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totalswag · 3 days ago
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Hii I have reques if you feel comfortable with it!
I read your drew fic with the arrest and I loved it!! I was wondering if reader was preforming bed chem outro instead of the back up singer it’s Drew and they get a little to carried away in front of the crowd. If That makes sense💕
bed chem ��� DREW STARKEY
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authors note thank you for sending this request and it makes glad you liked my arrested for being too hot fic. my requests are still open and i'm gonna be working on the requests that are in my inbox right now from recent requests. also, you can picture singer!reader picture any way you want <3 i’m using sabrina carpenter as inspo for singer!reader.
taglist ⤕ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set.
summary drew coming on stage at the very end of your song and you both get lost in the moment for a second in front of fans.
warning(s) mentions of intimate positions, kissing, touching.
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Earlier in the show, you arrested Drew, your boyfriend, for being too hot— everyone in the arena went crazy seeing him. What they aren't expecting to Drew making a second appearance.
At the very end of bed chem one of your backup dancers will come into frame holding a camera on his shoulder, and when the curtain closes you pretend to do intimate things then the stage lights go off.
Prior to the show you asked Drew if he would be okay to go this— he agreed. Making sure he's comfortable was your first priority. He talked about different ways coming on stage that were so funny.
You start singing the final chorus of bed chem on your knees, legs wide out and free hand in front of you as you lean forward. The curtain signal is about to close. From the corner of your vision, you can see Drew approaching with the camera on his shoulder, dressed in dark pants and a white tank top—fans immediately began to cheer as he entered the frame.
He looked so good you couldn't control the redness of your cheeks spreading like a teenager seeing their crush.
To make the moment better, you sway your body around on the bed, allowing yourself to relax. Drew is looking at you with a smile on his face as he gets closer to the edge of the bed.
Motioning him to get closer— he lifts one leg on the bed as the curtain makes its way around the bed. Slowly setting down the camera on the edge of the bed.
You moved closer to Drew, pressing your bodies together in a false display of intimacy. Drew played along well, massaging your sides as he drew you closer. The crowd's cheers intensified, and the excitement in the arena reached a fever pitch.
You leaned in and kissed Drew deeply, as the curtain began to close behind you. The kiss was supposed to be a tease, a staged performance for the spectators, but you found yourself becoming lost in it.
Drew's hands crept up to cradle your face, his touch soft yet forceful. You forgot about the crowd, the cameras, and everything. It was just you and Drew, completely lost in each other.
Your hands drag down his bare chest, and he leaps forward into you at the gentleness of your touch, sending lightning down your body. 
Once the lights turn off you both pull away from each other. Everything in your body right now is all over the place you think you are gonna explode. You are breathing heavily.
"You always know how to put on a show," he said quietly, his voice hoarse.
You giggled softly, your fingertips tracing the contour of his jawline. "And you always know how to make it unforgettable."
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⎯⎯ my taglist!
✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line across your name that means i couldn't find your account.
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ariaste · 2 hours ago
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Hello, professional author here. I agree with mmmmooost of the above (certainly agree with the general idea that you should free your mind from worrying anxiously about the audience too much, DEFINITELY agree with practicing engaging with a piece of art on its own terms) but I have a couple philosophical quibbles to.... well, quibble about.
First of all, the black-and-white framing of the dichotomy of "pushing a product" (coded here as a Bad Thing, perhaps even a Contemptible Thing) versus "creating a work of art" (coded here as a Good Thing, perhaps even an Admirable Thing). For one thing, these two states aren't necessarily mutually exclusive. I think that what the above poster meant by the word "product" was probably "cheap corporate shit with nothing to say and no intention or care behind it except to make money", except.... There is this myth in our culture that artists shouldn't ever worry about money at all, that you should make art purely for the love of it, etc etc. This myth is the justification that those big corporations use to defend their decision to underpay creatives (e.g. writers, animators, voice actors, visual artists, etc etc etc etc). Like, the whole AI art thing that's happening right now is linked to the brutal devaluing of artistic labor. I'm a professional author; my work is my job, and my work is valuable and worthy of fair compensation. So I do want to gently push back against the implication that an artist can't or shouldn't ever think of their art as a product (and here I am using the word "product" in its more neutral sense of simply "a thing that can be sold for money"). If we as professional artists want to fight back against the corporate exploitation of art, we HAVE to start valuing our artistic work, understanding the ins and outs of the business, and defending both our right and the rights of our colleagues to earn a living from the job.
So let's rephrase "pushing a product" to a more neutral term, one that's actually used in the publishing industry: "Writing to a market".
Here is the thing that I want to point out for any aspiring authors... "Writing to a market" versus "writing for yourself" is not an either-or situation, but a SPECTRUM. There are many circumstances where you actually do NEED to consider the audience -- if you're writing children's picture books, for example, then I damn well hope you're writing for your audience, because your audience has very particular unique needs that have to be served. "Writing to a market" is also used for things like the romance genre (please note that this too is often WILDLY devalued and considered contemptible in our society, and that is 100% because of misogyny committed by people of all genders) -- a romance book has a structure to it the same way that a sonnet has a structure, and if it does not follow that structure, then it is simply not a sonnet, but some other kind of poem. Knowing those genre conventions is part of writing to a market. Even just saying "I'm going to write this book for all the 16 year old girls who, like me, really wanted the princess to slay the dragon" is writing to a market -- but it is ALSO sincere and genuine and authentic to you yourself.
Imagine an actor on stage. They MUST do some thinking about their audience -- where are they standing? Can they be seen, or are they hidden (either could be important)? Are they speaking loudly enough to be heard or are they making the audience strain to hear them (these too could be important, depending)? Are they getting the timing of this joke right so that the audience laughs? For a professional author, generally the baseline "thinking about the audience" things you do are: 1) age bracket and 2) genre. Like, where is your book going to be shelved in the bookstore so people can find it?
And that's how I know that Miyazaki in the above screenshot is... being a LITTLE hyperbolic. He doesn't NEVER consider the audience (I daresay that he knows that one category of his audience is "people who love animation", for example) -- he just doesn't let his ANXIETY about the audience rule his creative decision making. He does not let the audience and their expectations/demands become the tyrants of his art.
So it's a spectrum, not an either-or -- there are definitely people who are hard at one end of the spectrum or the other (on one hand, people who ARE producing soulless AI-generated corporate drivel, and on the other hand, people who are making the WEIRDEST art you have EVER seen, truly and aggressively pushing the limit of "can this be understood or related to by even one single other human being"), but there is an ocean of fuzzy grey shades in the center, and I for one did not realize that until I was knee-deep in it.
You don't have to Never Consider The Audience in order to be an artist. But I would recommend, at minimum, setting some healthy boundaries in your own head between yourself and the audience. Decide what they do and don't get to say to you. Decide what kind of treatment you will and won't put up with. Decide how much you're prepared to allow your work to be impacted by your imaginary worries about what someone else might think (What will your mother say if you paint that nude portrait? What will the internet say if you tell that story? What will some rando on twitter say if you post that photograph?).
Here is where I'm at on the Death of the Audience spectrum, at least for right now (this might change over time, but that's okay. I get to change my mind as much as I want). Put beneath a cut because it was starting to get a little long...
For me, writing a book is like inviting a few people over to my house for a nice home-cooked dinner. I'm going to make sure there is food enough to feed them; I'm going to make sure that it is nourishing and well-cooked to the best of my ability; I'm going to invite them into my home and welcome them to a seat on the couch and offer them a drink (tea? fancy little cocktail? can of soda? glass of water, with or without ice?). I'm going to communicate what's in each dish and have a variety of options, so that the people at my table can pick the things they like and avoid the things they dislike (or have allergies to, or that their doctor advised them to avoid, or that they're not eating for personal ethical reasons, etc etc).
But here's the other thing. The dinner guests don't get to decide what I'm putting on the table. I'm going to cook dishes that I like (because I'm the one having to cook them, and I'm the one living with the leftovers!). More than that, I'm going to cook dishes that I'm confident about -- by which I mean that I'm going to practice a brand-new recipe in private for a while, just in case it goes wrong, before I put it on the table for guests. Now, that said, if a very dear friend texted in advance of the dinner party, "Hey, could you make those garlicky mashed potatoes again? I LOVED them" then I might listen to them -- but then again, I might already have my own menu plan. (Sorry, friend! But the compliment is accepted with love and gratitude, as a compliment, rather than as a demand.) I'm always trying to expand my skills as a cook and exploring new recipes and techniques, but I'm going to do that on my schedule. Nobody gets to tell me when my pumpkin spice cream puff recipe has been perfected enough to be presentable -- that's between me and the kitchen gods. This ain't a restaurant, after all, it's my home!
If someone wanders in off the street to eat at my table, then they are welcome to all the hospitality of my house. But if they don't like the food or if I didn't make their favorite dish, I'm not going to let that ruin my day. They opted in when they crossed the threshold and came inside, and they can opt out just as easily if I'm not serving what they like. I am not the only source of food in the whole world, so they're not going to starve if I keep doing my thing and ticking off things from the list on my fridge and swearing under my breath because I forgot to season the green beans before I put them in the oven to roast and now I'll have to wing it with a savory sauce or something to put on them instead.
A VERY EXTENDED AND POSSIBLY CONFUSING METAPHOR but I hope you see the shape of what I'm getting at here. Again, this philosophy might change in the years to come. But for now, this is the amount of consideration that I give the audience. Your mileage may vary! :)
fuck an "intended audience" how about we normalize engaging with new and unfamiliar art pieces on their own terms
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submattsmxmmy · 18 hours ago
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🖤 content warning: 🖤 smut, heavy stepsibling kink, oral (f!receiving), begging, praise/degradation, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, a wink to daddy kink, roughdom!stepbro!chris, brattysub!stepsis
🖤 author's note: 🖤 hiiii it's @ariestrxsh and this is my backup account. as i bring this series to a close, i'd like to say sorry to my mom, sorry to god, and sorry to chris if you ever come across this depraved piece of writing. if you're not into the whole stepsibling kink, please don't read!!! here are parts one and two bc writing about stepbro!chris just once was simply not enough.
🖤 summary: 🖤 chris barges into the bathroom after your shower, and things get hot and steamy.
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holdyourbreath part three
"What the fuck's takin' so long?" Chris pounded on the bathroom door with a closed fist, startling you as you stood in front of the mirror in your towel. You rolled your eyes at his impatience. "I'll be out in just a minute!" You yelled, with your mouth full of toothpaste.
"What are ya doing in there? It sounds like you're suckin' dick or somethin'," Chris chuckled through the barrier. You quickly pulled open the door and glared at your stepbrother. "I'm brushing my teeth. Asshole," you said with the toothbrush between your lips.
"What did ya just call me?" Chris asked through clenched teeth, pushing past you with ease and shutting the door behind him. "Hey," you said, spitting into the drain and rinsing out your mouth before you whipped around. "I'm not done in here."
"Y'are now because I need a shower," Chris said, tilting your chin up to look at him. "I still have to do my nightly skin care routine, and I need to shave," you stomped at him, swatting his hand away. He pushed you up against the sink, looked into your eyes, and pulled his shirt off over his head, discarding it onto the tile floor beneath the two of you.
"Why are you bein' such a fuckin' brat?" Chris asked, biting his lip at you and pushing a strand of your freshly washed hair behind your ear. You hated that he was turning you on, but you couldn't hide it from him. A look of desperation seeped through your otherwise unamused expression as your eyes dropped to his pretty mouth.
"You wanna kiss me?" Chris cooed, his lips moving closer to yours, but he stopped about an inch from your face, and you felt his warm breath as he spoke. "I can't kiss ya. You're my stepsister. It wouldn't be right." His lips curled into a devilish smile.
He was like forbidden fruit, and he'd never let you forget it. It's like he was taunting you. He'd stick his cock in every hole you had, but he wouldn't kiss you, because it was too romantic of a gesture. "You're dyin' to know what my lips feel like, aren't you?" Chris whispered, studying the neediness in your pout. You were silent, but your eyes confirmed his suspicion.
"I'm gonna show ya," he sneered at you, ripping your towel off of you, grabbing you by your waist, and setting you on the edge of the granite countertop. He fell to his knees and parted your legs, gazing up at you with his hypnotic stare.
"Tell me how bad ya want it," Chris cooed, spreading you open with his thumbs. "Please, Chris. Please lick it," you whined. "You're so wet," Chris gasped, admiring how turned on you were getting just from him taunting you.
"Please. I wanna know what your mouth feels like," you softly begged him, waiting for to acknowledge your desperation. He gave you a smirked before leaning in and closing the distance between your heat and his mouth, hooking your legs over his shoulders.
He roughly gripped your thighs while he made contact with your wet folds. His tongue lightly grazed your clit, and your whole body jerked at the sensation. His pillow soft lips enveloped your sensitive button, humming against it and extracting a few faint squeals from you.
He skillfully wiggled the tip of his tongue around, speeding up the pace of his licks and exploring your pussy in a way he hadn't yet. He couldn't get enough of your flavor or the way you writhed around beneath the feeling of his velvety mouth.
His movements became more jagged and aggressive while he listened to you softly singing the song of your pleasure, your pretty moans pouring from your lips like thick honey. Your hands traveled to the back of Chris' head, gently combing through his luscious mane of hair and feeling his locks softly pass through the space between your fingers.
His blue eyes gazed up at you, his stare filled with hunger and desire. He lapped up your drenched, intricate folds, drinking from you as if your pussy were a fountain with life-giving properties. You felt that funny feeling in your lower stomach, a sign that you were on the verge of pure bliss.
You arched your back slightly, moving one hand to grip the counter while the other reached for Chris' back. Your nails dragged across his flesh, leaving five, long red marks in their wake.
You had just taken a deep breath and were about to let out an unhindered and final moan before finishing on Chris' tongue when a knock at the bathroom door startled you both. You released your hold on the granite beneath you and threw your palm over your mouth, holding your breath.
"Honey? Are you in there?" Your dad's voice came through, sounding muffled through the barrier. You peered down at Chris wide-eyed, silently begging him to help you out. Chris deviously smiled up at you, remaining silent and continuing to work his tongue in your special place.
You did your best to compose yourself, realizing you were going to have to answer. You slowly removed your trembling hand so you could speak.
"Yes, daddy?" You called out, stabilizing the shakiness in your voice as much as you could. Chris quietly chuckled against your heat, secretly loving hearing you say that word while he was doing something so naughty to you.
"Have you seen your stepbrother?" Your dad wondered. "No, sorry! Haven't!" You exclaimed, keeping your responses short to better conceal what was happening on your side of the door. Your hand flew up and cupped your mouth again to deaden the sounds of the moans that were begging to escape your lips.
"Okay, no problem. Well, I'll let you get back to it!" Your dad responded, not knowing exactly what it was, and he started walking down the hallway back to another part of the house. "Chris! You're so mean," you hissed.
"Ya love it," he moaned against your sweet spot as all ten of your nails scraped against the skin of his shoulder blades again. He started to pull away, but you dug into his flesh even more. "Please don't stop. I'm begging you, Chris," you whimpered.
"Relax. I'm gonna let ya finish this time as long as you're a good girl for me, can ya do that?" Chris asked, glancing up at you. You nodded. He removed your legs from his shoulders, and he stood up.
He tugged down the waistband of his sweatpants, revealing his cock in all its glory, and you stared down longingly at it. He placed it at your entrance, but he didn't put it in yet, and your eyes flickered up at his, silently asking for him to keep going.
"What is it, princess? Ya got somethin' to say?" Chris cooed, teasing your folds with the head while he smirked at you. "Please, Chris," you mumbled, nibbling on your bottom lip. "Please what?" He asked, taking pleasure in your desperation.
"Please put it in," you whined in a needy voice. He obliged, only inserting the tip. "Chris," you hissed, getting fed up with all his teasing. "What is it, princess?" Chris cradled your face, trying to conceal his smug smirk.
He knew exactly what he was doing, and he loved feeling you squirm around as you tried to scoot forward on the counter to take more of him. "Don't go misbehavin' now. Use your words and ask me nicely," Chris sweetly responded, his hands wandering to your hips to hold you still.
"Please, Chris. Put it in all the way," you softly begged him, placing your hands on his chest and feeling his warmth. "Like this?" He asked, suddenly jerking his hips forward and sinking into your drooling hole as you let out a gentle whimper.
You felt disgusted with yourself every time you begged for him to fuck you, but never enough to keep yourself from doing it. You needed him, and he knew it.
You stretched around him as he snugly filled you. His movements were slow, but each thrust was powerful and hard. You felt your walls clench around him, and you hooked your arms underneath his, dragging your nails down his back again as he hit your gspot over and over.
"You're such a fuckin' slut. You can't get enough of me, can ya?" Chris grunted, reading you like a book. You squeezed your legs around Chris' hips, causing his thrusts to hit even deeper, your eyes rolling into the back of your head in response.
He wrapped his arm around your waist, anchoring you in place. He picked up the pace, using faster strokes while you whimpered into his ear. "Ya take my cock like such a good girl," he praised you, his breathing becoming more labored as its warmth hit the right side of your neck.
Chris admired your figure and the curve of your back in the mirror through his hooded eyes as he indulged in the pleasure your body gave him.
"Wonder if your friends would tease ya if they knew how often you think about me like this," Chris chuckled, mounting you while your nails dug into the flesh of his shoulders.
"Wonder what my friends would think if I told them how well ya take cock. I bet they'd wanna test it out for themselves. And I bet you'd let them. It's not like you're picky. You'll even take your own stepbrother willingly, hmm?" His voice was thick with lust.
You loved the way he taunted you and degraded you, and for a moment, you thought his words might tip you over the edge. "Wonder what mom and dad would think if they knew what a little whore you are and how desperately you beg for it every time," Chris whispered, his lips tickling your earlobe as he spoke, sending shivers down your spine.
You threw your head back and let out a strangled moan, trying not to make too much noise while you clenched around him. With every stroke, you felt yourself become weaker, unable to hold on much longer. "Chris, please," you softly whined.
"Be a good girl and use your words, hmm? Please, what?" He asked in a sweet, condescending tone. "You know.." you responded quietly. "I can't read your mind, princess. I need ya to tell me. Need ya to beg for it," his lips curled into a smile, knowing you had you in the palm of his hand.
"Please let me finish, Chris," you begged him, started to spasm around his member. "Not so fast, princess. Beg harder," he growled. "Let me cum, Chris. I need it," you pleaded with him, your acrylics clawing down his back as you neared the finish line.
"Not yet. Control yourself like a good girl. Don't cum yet or else you're gonna be in big trouble," he breathlessly told you as he roughly snapped his hips forward, trying to make it hard for you as possible to obey him. "Chris," you hissed, feeling him throb inside of you.
He dismissed you, ignoring your pleas to finish and continued pounding away. You knew you needed to beg harder, but it felt so degrading every time you did, and you were always hoping he would give in before you.
He had a choke hold on you - figuratively and now literally. He reached up and wrapped his fingers around your neck and forced you to look him in the eye. "Be a good girl and beg for it before I don't let ya cum at all," he rasped a few inches from your face. You nodded.
"Please Chris. I'll do anything. Please let me finish," you wailed, desperate tears forming in your eyes. He loved watching you get so needy that you were crying for him, and he almost came at the sight of how pathetic you looked as you begged.
"That's it. Keep goin'," he encouraged you, your legs beginning to tremble around him. "Please. I can't take it. I need it, Chris. I need it so bad. I've been such a good girl for you," you softly whimpered, leaving behind physical marks of your torment in the form of red lines down more areas of his midback.
"You have been a good girl, haven't ya? Ya didn't even talk back to me this time. Ya must want it bad," he purred, his voice saturated with seduction. You hummed, nodding your head in response.
"Why don't ya finish all over my cock, princess? I know ya want to," he looked back at you with glazed over blue eyes, his jaw slacked, and pleasure written on his face. He was just as close as you were.
He reeled you in closer to him, placing his full lips on yours and moaning into your mouth as you finished onto his rod. His tongue gently grazed yours, and when he pulled away from the kiss, he had your bottom lip caught between his teeth, drawing a few drops of blood as he bit down.
You whimpered as your walls fluttered around his throbbing cock. Your orgasm erupted deep within your core, sending ripples of satisfaction through your nervous system.
His pretty sounds filled the room as he pulled out of you and started stroking it with his hand, watching his pearly white substance squirt out of the tip of his twitching cock and making a mess on your glistening pussy that was still clenching around nothing.
"Oh my god. Fuck, that was so hot," he said in a soft, sultry tone as a smile came creeping into his expression as he released his hold around your throat.
"I thought you said you weren't going to kiss me," you replied faintly, blushing and reaching up to brush your fingertips against your lips. "I couldn't help it. Your eyes were beggin' for it," he breathlessly answered you, pulling away and smirking as he cleaned off his cock with his t-shirt.
You closed your legs and hopped off the granite countertop and picked up your towel from off the floor to cover yourself. Once he started to recover from how hard he just came, he felt a stinging sensation on his back, and he turned around in front of the mirror, assessing the pain. He let out an annoyed sigh.
"Such a little slut, aren't ya? Marking me up with your nails? What am I supposed to tell people when they ask where I got these scratches, huh? Tell 'em I got 'em from my stepsister? Jeez, kid. Tell your nail tech to go shorter on the acrylics next time."
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seongieluvr · 16 hours ago
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your sunghoon anal scenario 🧍🏻‍♀️ I’m thinking
okay I got a lil carried away but I hope you enjoy <3
— cw ; anal, oral (f rec), sunghoon is kinda mean but not really, slight ass eating, spit, degradation, praise, pet names, I think that's it
walk with me here for a bit...sunghoon looooves fucking you, like he's convinced there is no better feeling in the world than your cunt wrapped around his cock. and it pacifies him and his high sex drive, but you need more. and so you suggest anal to him.
and at first, he shuts down the idea. he doesn't think it'll feel good for either of you, plus he's super scared of accidentally hurting you and he would never be able to come back from that, knowing he hurt the only thing he's ever really loved.
but after enough coaxing, he is willing to try it, if it means it'll make his baby happy.
and that's how his new obsession starts. the first time he fucks your ass, it's awkward and uncomfortable, but once you both get used to the feeling...he hates that he denied him and you of this for so long.
he almost always wants to fuck your ass, he would never tell you, but he thinks he almost prefers it over fucking your pussy.
he loses his fucking mind when your face is squished into the pillows and your ass is the air, cunt dripping from your first orgasm and his spit from him eating you out just moments before.
"you look so fucking pathetic like this," he growls. he grabs one of your asscheeks and gawks at your tight hole. "literally begging for me to fuck your ass like a fucking whore." he collects a wad of spit before letting it slip for his mouth and onto your hole before rubbing the head of his cock between your folds, collecting your arousal.
he presses his tip to the tight ring and you whine, moving your hips back to gain any kind of friction to your neglected hole. "ah, ah, not so fast, doll." he coos. "are you really this needy? I haven't even properly fucked you yet, yeah?"
you look up at your boyfriend through teary lashes, unable to form any coherent sentence or words. all you knew was sunghoon, and you were going insane that you were being deprived of the one thing you needed most.
"p-please, hoon..." you cry, drool dribbling down your chin and onto the pillows.
"please what, angel? you gotta use your big girl words to get what you want, you know this." he replies, sliding his cock between your cheeks, making a mess of spit and cum.
"fuck me...please. please, fuck my ass...I promise to be good." you whine, tears forming on your waterline.
sunghoon smirks devilishly, a tiny fang poking between his lips. "aren't you just so precious..." he takes his free hand and smoothes your hair from your face. "and who am I to deny such an obedient little anal whore?"
he presses his tip into your hole and hisses, his bottom lip going between his teeth. "fuck, doll...how are you still so fucking tight?"
you moan into the pillows as he stuffs your ass full of his thick cock, feeling every single inch going deeper and deeper until he is fully sheathed inside you.
sunghoon groans when he bottoms out in you and doesn't give you much time to adjust to him before he's pulling out to the tip just to slam back into you.
"such a sweet little angel, aren't ya? lettin' me use your ass like this...letting me mold you to the shape of my cock, knowing no one will ever fuck you the way I do." he spits as he thrusts in and out of you, his heavy balls slapping against your cunt.
your mind is blank and your pussy clenches on nothing. all you want is to cum and for sunghoon to cum in you. "h-hoonie..." you murmur. "p-please fill my ass..."
sunghoon laughs lowly at your plea. "already planned on it, doll."
it didn't take many more thrusts from sunghoon for you to feel the coil in your stomach on the verge of breaking. "'m close, hoon."
"fuck, me too, baby." he grunts as he slips back into your hole. "god, you take me so well...such a good little doll for me..."
the coil breaks and your coming around nothing, feeling it drip out of your cunt and onto your thighs, whining sunghoon's name over and over like a mantra, like it's the only word you know. and right now, it is.
"gonna cum in this tight little ass, fill you up and watch it spill out..." sunghoon pants, and with another thrust, you feel thick ropes paint your walls. he stills inside you, making sure not a single drop spills out before he wants.
he pulls his softening cock out and watches as his cum dribbles out and onto your cunt. he smiles proudly to himself before leaning down and licking a fat stripe up your cunt and to your spent hole, humming at the tastes of you and himself.
you sigh blissfully as sunghoon laps at your cunt and ass, letting him do as he pleases.
"you're so perfect, you know that? my pretty little whore."
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Damian had to close his eyes, the green abruptly assaulting his eyes with how bright it was.
It was suffocating, like he was swimming into the league's training pool depths. The water pressure was similar to this, making him instinctively hold his breath.
It was wrong. He knew he should just give in. He already did this much. He couldn't take it back. He was halfway there. Just a little more, and he'll be with Danyal forever.
He just had to breathe.
Just as he was about to let go of the last seconds he had to live, he saw a change in light through his eyelids. He felt the pressure vanish just as quickly.
He coughed a gasping breath, hearing a wince of sympathy.
"Oh, right. I forgot about how people react to a change of ambient ecto quality... Sorry. Just- just take slow, deep breaths. You might feel a bit tingly, but that's just your body filtering out the polluted ecto and adjusting to the more pure version."
Damian followed Danyal's instructions, taking slow, deep breaths instead of quicker ones. It seemed that Grayson's breathing techniques to calm oneself wasnt applicable to those in the land of the dead. There was no need to hold his breath. It made exhaling difficult, as if the air had somehow gained consistency.
A few breaths in, and he could feel what his brother had referred to. He felt as though he were drugged, feeling as though he was barely clinging to his physical body. He felt ashamed that he couldn't get himself to let go.
He cracked his eyes open, blinking out the black spots and struggling to make sense of the shapes around him. But once he did, he saw buildings, a road, a starry night sky, streetlights, a few people-
Danyal moved in front of him, smiling softly.
"Feeling ok?"
"A little out of body, but the process should be over soon. I swear to you, it... it's not my intention to still be so... attached."
Please forgive me. I swear I'll join you soon. I don't know why my body can't follow my mind or heart.
Danyal's smile became smaller, making Damian's heart drop.
"It's fine, Ahki. I don't expect you to detach yourself from them. They're your family." Danyal pulled Damian into an embrace, a hand combing through his hair. "I know... I know people aren't fond of ghosts. But that's ok. I don't mind, I just... I'm happier with you. I would've backed off if you weren't comfortable with me."
Damian bit his inner cheek, hands reaching out and grasping the thin clothes Danyal wore. No matter how much Danyal altered them, they would always feel thin, as if they would tear as easily as wet paper. But that was not the case, not when they would have crumbled and torn apart with how tightly he held onto them at that very moment.
"They were worried about you. That you were sacrificing something by staying on the living plane." His voice wavered. He didn't mean to, he didn't. He swore it.
"Ahki?"
"Yes?"
"Please don't lie to me."
"When I close my eyes and listen to what you say, it's easy to tell when you're lying."
Damian's blood ran cold.
"I-I wasn't-" He tried to pull away. He tried to make Danyal look him in the eyes. To show his sincerity.
Danyal only held him more tightly.
"But you hid something. Please... please tell me, am I bothering you? Did you really not want me around?"
"No! No, that's not- n-not not-" His voice wasn't cooperating. He took a quick breath in his frustration, only to quickly regret it when it got stuck in his throat, encouraging his gag reflex that soon turned into a violent chain of coughs.
"Hey, hey, deep breaths. Deep breaths, Ahki. You want me around, I heard you. Breathe, it's ok. We're ok. I'm not mad or anything. I just needed to make sure you actually wanted me around. I'm sorry that I scared you like that."
It was difficult to regulate his breathing, his coughing fit making him gasp at air quickly out of reflex. It was dizzying, it was worsening, he couldn't breathe.
He could feel Danyal letting go, making his heart race despite the low oxygen levels.
Please don't leave, I'm sorry.
He reached out, hearing a distant apology before his nose was pinched and mouth was covered. His body spasmed, attempting to continue to gasp for air. His hands twitched, the temptation to grab one of his many weapons high.
But he couldn't. He couldn't do it again. Not to him. Not again.
He felt his heart start to slow, and his body quit acting foolish. That's when the hands left his face, allowing him to breathe deeply. It was slow, he was too drained to even attempt to gasp for air.
He fell forward onto a cool surface. A body.
Danyal.
Danyal suffocated him.
He deserved it, but it hurt nonetheless.
"Ahki..."
Why is there a cold ticklish feeling trailing down his face? Was he crying? When did he start crying?
"Shhh, I'm sorry, but you were going to drown if I didn't get you to stop coughing or gasping. Just a few more minutes, and I won't have to do that ever again, I promise."
"Ahki... Ahki, 'm sorry..."
His head felt so floaty, but his body still felt heavy. Why? Just why couldn't he follow through?
"There’s-..." Danyal let out a sigh. "What are you sorry for, Damian?"
"You asked me to... you asked me vome with you." His breaths still felt short. "But I couldn't follow through. I still can't follow it through."
"..."
He should've been worried about Danyal's silence, but he couldn't even keep track of time. How fast was he talking? Was he slurring his words? He felt so dizzy still. He felt like he was floating.
"I thought about it. I thought about it to the point that I became... anxious. Father and Richard... Todd, Brown, Caine, Pennyworth, and even Drake care so much... I didn't... I didn't want to hurt them by dying."
He was almost there. He shouldn't have struggled even if he didn't end up causing any bodily harm. He shouldn't have even attempted to reach for his weapons.
"They were scared. They're scared, please don't blame them. It's my fault, Danny... it's mine. It's my fault they tried to send you away. I want- I want to stay with you."
Was he still talking? It sounds like gibberish, words not sounding like any he recognized.
"Damian... Damian, I didn't- Fuck, I didn't mean it that way!" Danyal roughly pulled him off, a hand on his shoulder to keep him steady and the other shakily cupping his cheek. He was letting Damian see him, he wanted him to look at him. "I don't want you to die, Damian."
Damian's lips pursed, brows furrowing in confusion and denial.
"Don't lie to me-"
"Look at me, Damian! Look at me and see if I'm lying!"
Damian focused on Danyal's face, searching for his giveaways.
"I don't want you dead." Damian searched more desperately. "I want you to live, Damian. I want you alive. I want my brother alive. I don't want you dead."
He repeated it over and over until Damien glared at him and covered his mouth.
"I understand, I hear you, I-" He jumped, quickly pulling away in disgust. "You licked me!"
Danny only gave him an innocent and saintly smile in response.
Ugh.
"You're disgusting."
"But you love me!"
"Unfortunately."
Danyal giggled, pulling away and crossing his legs, now hovering an inch over the grassy ground.
Damian let out a slow breath, still feeling drained but not as terrified and filled with shame as before. He felt like he could breathe freely. He could still have Danyal by his side and live with the rest of his family without any guilt.
He still deserved some form of punishment, but it was fine. He was fine for now. Perhaps... Perhaps Danyal would consider everything up to this point as punishment enough. Even if it wasn't enough, that seemed like something Danyal would choose to do.
"Damian?"
"If you did not want me to pass, then why am I such poor condition? Where are we, if not the afterlife?"
Danyal smiled sheepishly.
"Right. So you know how the Lazarus Pits had that power to elongate life to the fatally injured? Well, it turns out that it's because it's made of ectoplasm, runoff more specifically. But there's other types. The one that's affecting you to this point is ambient ectoplasm. You could think of it like air. Gotham is filled with polluted ambient ectoplasm because of the amount of curses there, and it's pretty low on it since there's a lot of shades.
Here, though, we have pure ambient ectoplasm directly from the Infinite Realms, where the afterlife resides. So it's pure, and there's a lot of it. But since you're used to Gotham's ectoplasm level, your baby core needs to accommodate itself. You should be good to move around soon if not already."
"..." Damian turned away from Danyal and looked at their new surroundings. "Where exactly are we then?"
"Oh! We're in Amity Park, a town in Illinois. Not a very good welcome, but uh, yeah. This was last minute. I would've had a party set up with everyone- which reminds me! I need to call Jazz. She's my adoptive older sister, by the way. She's nice, a bit weird when it comes to psychoanalyzing people, don't pay much attention to it. She's cool, you'll get along live a forest fire!"
"Those are dangerous, Danyal. I feel as though I should be concerned with your apparent interest in arson."
"See! That's something she would say!"
"For good reason." Damian smirked.
"Rude!"
Dcxdp
Just thinking of like a demon twins au where danny finds out damian is no longer under their grandfathers rule and goes to visit him in ghost form.
And damian is grieving all over again. Because thats his little brother, dead at his hands. Never able to grow up and live a full life. Just this weird mirror version of it. And now that damians embraced his fathers way of preserving life it feels even more of a waste and he mourns the experiences they could've had together. It felt like less of a blow when he was still in the league and surviving wasnt much of a life. Danyal was most likely happier at rest then there, but now? Now damian wishes they had more time.
Danny not realizing hes forgotten to tell his brother hes actually still alive. keeps saying that damian should come with him. See his home, meet his friends, Etc. Damian thinking danyal wants to drag him to the afterlife. Considers it even, because he owes him that much. Scared by his own thoughts and telling bruce or dick about it. And theyre both grief stricken and furious. Just this whole misunderstanding snowballing. Another son but one whos been lost before they could ever meet. One theyd never been able to know. Who never got the chance to be a child before his time was cut short. And everyone wanting to find a way to lay danny to rest without him stealing damian away too. Bruce desperate to meet this imprint of a son he never met but terrified of it taking away the son he still has.
Lol thinking of like 100 ways this could go.
Bruce calling in constantine. Danny feeling betrayed that they called someone to banish him? He thought damian would be happy to see him? Would accept him. Thought he could meet his father as well.
Or
Damian making him a grave and showing him that he can "rest" now like hed never been properly laid to rest with the league. Danny thinking its either a) a funny joke or b) finally realizes whats going on.
Or
damian offering to go with him as long as hes able to come back? He still wants to live his life and there are others in dcu who can go between realms (sorta i guess?) Danny being like yeah? No duh we'll come back xD damian being like??? When he sees amity lol.
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billiesguitar · 2 days ago
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ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐄𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡
other girls
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𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Smut,Dom!billie,cursing,eating out,fingering
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"Long time no see, hm baby?" I feel her arms slide around my waist and her breath tickles the back of my neck as she places her head on my shoulder. Billie looks up at the girl I'd been talking to this whole party and smiles sweetly.
"Billie," I smile back, trying to keep my voice from giving away my anger, she always does this, leaves and talks to whoever she wants, reminding me of our friends with benefits agreement but gets angry when I talk to other girls. though she's so beautiful tonight. She's wearing this black suit that hugs her curves in all the right places, making my stomach flutter.
"So sorry I've been busy," she says, then glaces at the girl, "thanks for keeping my girl company."
The girl blushes and quickly excuses herself, leaving Billie and me standing there awkwardly.
"Why are you talking to her?" Billie's voice is low, almost a growl.
"I can talk to however I want. I'm not your girlfriend, Billie." I reply, trying to keep the edge out of my tone.
"No, but you're mine," she whispers into my ear.
Her hands are on my hips now, turning me to face her. I can't help but look into her piercing green eyes. "Friends with benefits, remember?" I remind her, trying to sound nonchalant.
"I do. But I don't like sharing." She says, her grip tightening.
"What do you mean by that?"
Her gaze is intense, and for a second, I think she's going to kiss me right here in front of everyone. But instead, she takes my hand and leads me through the crowd. "Follow me."
We push through the throng of people, the bass of the music vibrating through my chest, until we reach the bathroom. She locks the door behind us and turns to face me.
"I want you," she says simply. "Now."
The sudden aggression in her voice sends a thrill down my spine, and I know exactly what she means. I nod, my heart racing.
Without another word, she grabs the hem of my dress and pulls it up, bunching it up around my waist. "I should bend you over that counter and fuck you into oblivion," Billie get on her knees and parts my legs, her grip firm on my thighs, "but I'm not gonna do that."
"Why not?" I ask breathlessly, feeling a little disappointed.
"Because I want everyone to hear how much you want me," she says with a smirk, "and I want them to know exactly who you belong to."
Billie tugs my underwhere down and drapes my leg over her shoulder. She kisses my inner thigh, her hot breath sending shivers down to my core. "You're mine, aren't you?" she asks, looking up at me.
"Yes," I murmur, feeling my body responding to her dominance.
"Good."
Her mouth moves to my core, and she starts to kiss and nibble lightly before bringing in her fingers. They're gentle at first, but she quickly picks up the pace, making me gasp. Her tongue swirls around my clit, and she adds a second finger, pushing into me without mercy.
"Billie," I moan, my hand on the cool porcelain of the sink to steady myself.
"That's right," she murmurs, her voice a bit low, "let them all know."
The bathroom echoes with the sound of my moans, and I can't help but wonder if anyone outside can hear. It's so wrong, but so hot.
"I want to hear you,baby." she says, her voice muffled by my legs
And with that, she sucks harder, her tongue flicking my sensitive bud. My legs start to shake as the pleasure builds inside me.
"Oh god," I whisper, leaning back against the sink and I tug slightly on her hair.
Her response is to push in a third finger, stretching me and filling me up completely. I feel so vulnerable like this, exposed and at her mercy. But I love it.
"Billie," I call out louder, "please, don't stop."
"m'not gonna baby," she coos, "don't you worry"
I can feel my climax approaching, and I'm so close. "I'm gonna come," I whimper.
"That's it," she encourages, her tongue never leaving my clit.
The orgasm hits me like a wave, making my knees buckle. Billie holds me up, her mouth still working me through the aftershocks. She pulls away and looks up at me with a satisfied smirk.
"now, can other girls make you cum like this?"
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paulyenvol6 · 2 days ago
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Bound by Flame (Chapter 3)
Contains: forced marriage, non-con, smut, sexual assault, angst, crying, oral (f receiving), kissing, touching, dirty talk, degradation, manipulation, incest, highly abusive and problematic behaviour
Read with caution!
Wordcount: ~4.56k
Masterlist of this story
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Maera was wakened by the noise to her right and needed a moment to remember where she was.
Memories from last night came back to her and fear spread throughout her body. Her father would surely know about her absence soon. Would he be angry? But Daemon had told her that he knew that she was with his brother so perhaps he knew her to be safe.
Maera looked to her right and saw Daemon getting up from the bed and putting on his clothes. She yawned loudly and leaned back against the headboard.
"Are we going back soon, uncle?", the girl asked him and he glanced at her.
"First I want to show you something."
She curiously furrowed her forehead but got off the bed as well to once again cover herself with the cloak.
"Here at dragonstone or somewhere else?"
Daemon cheekily smirked at her and took her hand. "Patience, love. Just come with me and you'll see."
Maera truly was confused and a little anxious as well but she chose to trust her uncle and took the hand he was offering her. The prince led her out of her room and then through the castle. Knights guarded the entrances and bowed their heads when Daemon and her passed and servants hasted along the corridors who Maera observed curiously.
Her uncle guided her out of the castle and then on a path around the walls until they arrived in a little garden. There were a few men standing next to another who sat on a rock but when they noticed the advancing towards them he stood up at once and everyone bowed their heads.
Maera frowned because the man who had previously sat was dressed like a septon and the girl wondered why Daemon had led her here. Another man among the group she could identify as a maester and there were also some knights and lords she knew distantly. Maera pulled at the sleeve of Daemon's tunic and looked up to him to find his gaze.
"What is this, uncle?", she whispered but he ignored her and just watched the scene.
The girl was clearly scared now and shook her uncle's arm. "Daemon. What are we doing?"
They stood in front of the group of men now and the prince finally looked at his niece who examined the knights fearfully.
"You, sweet niece, are going to be my wife."
Her jaw dropped and her eyes got big like coins as she instinctively took a step back.
"What?", she pressed and Daemon quickly reached out to take her arm.
"It's alright. Don't be scared, sweetling. We will be man and wife, there is nothing fearful about that."
But Maera's face had gotten pale and her shivering hands enclosed around her uncle's hand that had wrapped around her upper arm.
"B-But no. We can't. My father – "
"Your father will have to live with it. Once we're married there's nothing he can do about it."
Maera's eyes filled with tears and her lower lip started to quiver with anxiety. "No uncle, I can't. Please, my father doesn't approve of this and I can't – "
"You can't disobey your father? Aren't you a good little girl, always doing as you're told. I know you will obey me perfectly, just as you always have."
She squirmed in his grip and the knights exchanged a brief look.
"Right now you're not a good girl though.", Daemon growled and his hand around her arm tightened. "You think you're the first unwilling bride? You're gonna do as you're told just like so many other maidens had to. I don't care if you want this or not, you're gonna be obedient and do as I order you."
Now tears ran down his niece's cheeks and she felt as though her world was breaking apart. Daemon, her loved and admired uncle had manipulated her like that and now wanted to marry her? She couldn't let this happen, never. Her father wasn't there, her brother as well and most importantly, Viserys hadn't given them permission. She couldn't marry him now, she was to wed a lord of her father's choice.
Panick and fear filled her body and she desperately tried to free herself from Daemon's grip around her arm.
"Please uncle, no. Please, I-I can't do this. I can't return married, my father would – "
"I don't care what your father will do."
Maera tried to fight him off but she clearly didn't stand a chance. "Please, I don't want this."
But Daemon gave her an evil smile. "You remember that you came here with me willingly. And furthermore you slept in the same bed with me." His voice got very quiet now and his mouth came close to her ear.
"You know what the servants think, don't you? You are a smart little girl, use your brains and act wisely. They think that I have taken your innocence. That I have ruined you for any other man and claimed your maidenhead. Your reputation is destroyed and no other man will ever wed you. The only thing that can restore your virtue is for me to take you as my lawful wife which I'll gladly do."
Maera was a mess by now, tears coating her skin and she couldn't even see clearly by the amount of wetness blocking her view.
"B-But my father…. He wants me to wed Ser Brandeth… I – I"
Daemon interrupted her by grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her head back. "Brandeth Lannister is dead, sweetling. A pity, honestly.", he chuckled. "He was a good man. His only mistake was asking your father for your hand."
Maera shivered and was petrified while glaring up to him. "W-What? You… What?"
But instead of answering he shoved the girl forwards, bringing the two of them closer to the waiting group.
"P-Please.", was all she whimpered but her uncle was cold and hard in his expression. Suddenly the septon cleared his throat.
"My Prince. Is this… I mean can we proceed with the ceremony or… is there any problem?"
Daemon answered him without turning around so his gaze was still fixed on Maera.
"No, there isn't a problem at all, Hugar.", he said with grinded teeth. "My niece simply needs a moment to prepare herself. Her wedding is a special day for a girl after all."
The septon nodded though still looking a little uncomfortable and Maera sniffed while her uncle lowered his head to her ear once again.
"Will you behave yourself now? Will you be obedient just like I've taught you as a little child and stand in front of the septon willingly? Or do I have to make you?"
All she could do was shake her head and her uncle forcefully grabbed her chin.
"Do you want me to fucking ruin you, little one? Mhm? Do you want me to breed your maiden body until you're swollen with my child and everyone gets to see that you belong to me? Your father, your brother your little friends? I'm gonna do it and I'm gonna do it over and over again and make you swollen with my children."
He let go off her chin so her head dropped and she stared at the ground. She didn't reply or said anything else, too frightened of his last words so Daemon took that as a sign that Maera had broken and he dragged her towards the septon.
Everything felt surreal and blurry to the girl but she didn't dare open her mouth again and stood in front of the septon with her head bowed and her body shivering with fear and desperation.
"She is ready now.", Maera heard her uncle speak but it sounded as if it was far away and she anxiously pressed her lips together like she was afraid a sound could escape her mouth if she didn't do it.
Maera barely understood what was happening and couldn't even hear the words that the septon and Daemon spoke. Only when her uncle turned to her and lifted her chin did she blink a few times and stared at Daemon.
"Say it.", he growled and she knew what he asked of her. Her septa had taught her about the marriage ceremony and everything that came with it. Gods, if only she was here now. If only anyone was here right now to stop this and stop Daemon and bring her back to King's –
"Say it, Maera.", Daemon repeated all of a sudden and she couldn't surpress a cry leaving her body. She wanted to lower her head and sink into the ground but her uncle still had his hand around her chin and forced her to look up to the septon.
"Iksan zȳhon s-se issa ñ-ñuhon. H-Hen bisa t-tubis, ēva s-se mōris hen ñ-ñuha t-tubissa." (I am his and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days), she stuttered so that it was barely comprehensible but it seemingly was enough for both the septon and Daemon.
And then it was finished and Hugar said the last words to seal this marriage. Maera's head had dropped again but this time her uncle didn't say anything. The septon bowed in front of the freshly wed couple and then left while the gathered knights and other people she didn't know congratulated them.
Maera didn't care about acting rudely or anything else, her eyes were pressed together, tears rolled down her face and her fingernails dug into the skin of her own hand. She had lost the feeling for the passing time because then there wasn't anyone left in this ugly cold garden except Daemon and her.
By now there weren't any tears left to cry and Maera sniffed while watching a spider crawl through the mud on the ground. She had her hands pressed to her body and stood hunched over and twitched when she felt Daemon grab her arm.
"There will be a feast now, little girl. Don't be frightened, you know that I only want what's best for you."
All the way through the feast Maera sat with her hands tightly gripping the edge of the table saying only the minimum of what she had to. Daemon was leaned back in his chair, his legs crossed and a cup of wine in his hand. There obviously weren't a lot of people at the celebrations and yet it felt like a feast, which stretched from the noon until the evening with knights and old friends of Daemon laughing and singing and dancing.
One by one did they step in front of the couple to express their congratulations which her uncle accepted with a nod of his head while Maera was frozen and couldn't even raise her gaze. A coldness had spread in her body that made her unable to move or to speak and everything felt like a mere nightmare.
Daemon was ever at her side ignoring her aside from a few strokes over her thigh. Maera didn't even feel bored because she was numb and in shock and couldn't perceive the time passing until it was evening and the rogue prince decided that it was time to consume the marriage. So he straightened up in his chair and put a hand on his wife's shoulder.
"Come sweet girl. We must do our duty as man and wife now."
Maera had twitched and pressed her lips tightly together.
"Come on. I don't want to drag you."
And so, knowing well that she didn't have a choice anyway, she didn't fight when her uncle pulled her up by her arm and guided her through the hall in which the feast took place. Some of the knights were cheering and tapped on the wooden tables in celebration and then when the door closed behind them Maera found herself in the dark corridor feeling overwhelmed by the sudden silence.
It was only her and Daemon now, the person that she had once loved unconditionally but now scared her so much that she flinched at each of his movements. Without saying a word he led her up to the room that they had sleeped in last night. If only she had known what would happen when she had left it in the morrow, Maera thought. If only she had known yesterday when Daemon had woken her in the middle of the night. Tears filled her eyes again. She was scared of what would happen when word reached her father and scared of what would happen now in their chamber when Daemon would claim her maidenhead.
He opened the door for her so she could enter the room and then closed it behind her. Maera felt odd standing so awkwardly in the middle of the room and closed her eyes trying to calm herself. But then her uncle approached her from behind and rested a hand on her shoulder. She couldn't help but let out a sob and felt tears leaving the corner of her eyes.
"Shhh, sweet girl.", her uncle whispered against her ear and soothingly caressed her arm.
But she shook her head and squirmed in his arms in a desperate attempt to somehow magically make him leave her alone. But his cold hands held her tightly and now he additionally wrapped an arm around her waist.
"No, Maera. Don't fight me. I'll make this as easy for you as possible if you give in. Just let me take care of you and you're gonna be fine."
But the girl cried out and turned her head relentlessly which made her uncle growl and he shoved her towards the bed. Head first she was pushed on the bed and immediately moved to sit on the edge when Daemon let go of her to take off his shirt and tunic. Maera anxiously watched him and then after he had revealed his muscular chest Daemon's eyes flashed at her and his hand reached out to run over her hair.
"Maera. You know that you can trust me. You know that I love you very very much. I will be gentle with you and prepare you for me. But it's hard when you try and fight me, little one."
She was pouty, defiant and couldn't bare looking in his eyes. And yet Daemon took it as a sign to go further and took another step towards his sobbing niece. He held the side of her face and leaned down to kiss her.
Maera's lip were stiff and cold and she refused to kiss him back but Daemon didn't care and just devoured her taste and the softness of her lips. Then he pushed her back signalizing her to lay down but Maera refused so her uncle pulled away and caressed her cheek looking softer and warmer in his face now.
"Lay down, sweetling. I'll make you feel good, I promise."
But the girl tensed her face and pleadingly looked up to him. "Please uncle. Please, don't."
He almost offered her pity in his expression though gently pressing her back.
"It's gonna be fine. Go on. Lay down."
Her eyes produced more tears but Maera couldn't fight him as his hands pushed her back by her shoulders until she laid on the bed. Daemon crawled on top of her at once to press her down with the weight of his body and he cooed her.
"Shh, little doll. Don't cry. There's no need to cry, your uncle's gonna take good care of you."
His mouth leaned forwards to kiss her lips again while his hands held the side of the girl's neck and her waist. Maera shifted relentlessly underneath him but she didn't stand a chance against the strong warrior and was forced to feel his hands on her body.
Then he attempted to take off her cloak and night gown that she still wore but soon figured that he wouldn't be able to undress her without hurting her so Daemon simply ripped the fabric of the cloak and then tore it off her body until only the thin night dress covered her pretty body. He ended the kiss, his eyes wandered down her curves and he bit his lip as he watched her hardened nipples looming from under the gown. His finger swiftly ran over the bud and Maera squirmed trying to get away from him.
"Please Daemon, please… I'm scared.", she whined and tried to cover her breasts with her hands. But Daemon determindely grabbed her wrists and pinned her arms to the sides of her body.
"There's no reason for you to be scared, Maera. You know that you're important to me and I promise you, as your husband I'll keep you safe. Just stop fighting me, do you understand me? This only makes it more difficult."
He pressed a kiss to her forehead and then his hands cupped her breasts which made Maera squeeze her eyes. All she could think about was how bad all of this was and how angry everyone would be. And she couldn't help but feel frightened of her uncle because these past hours had fueled a fear inside of her that hadn't been there before. She wanted to leave this wicked place, get back home to her father and forget everything about this terrible nightmare that wasn't one but her reality from now on.
Daemon softly massaged her breasts and his thumb ran over the girl's nipple. His eyes watched the motion and Maera's lip trembled as he rubbed over the bud.
"It's fine, my sweet girl. I'll be gentle. Just give in."
He lowered his head to kiss at the swell of her breast while ignoring his niece's whimpering. Daemon took her nipples between his lips to suck and stimulate them with his tongue. He let out a satisfied growl that sent shivers down Maera's spine. She felt scared of what this man she had once thought to know that well was capable of doing to her.
And then he was done with devouring her chest and crawled further up again. His piercing darkened eyes were in her sight again and made her turn her head in order to escape Daemon's gaze but he quickly dug his fingers in the girl's chin to turn her towards him and their eyes could interlock. Tears had soaked Maera's cheeks, her face was reddened and her eyes swollen so her uncle gently stroke her skin.
"Oh, little kitten. Don't cry, it will be fine."
But she winded underneath him and he sighed, sounding genuinely disappointed.
"Spread your legs.", Daemon said and if the situation had been any different Maera would've found her uncle's voice to sound incredibly soft and gentle. But not like this. Not with him pinning her down and his hands all over her body touching those areas that had meant to be touched for the first time by her husband who most definitely hadn't been supposed to be Daemon.
So she tilted her head and pressed her thighs together trying anything to prevent him from getting there. A part of Maera was so desperate and tired of everything that she thought about just giving up and letting him do with her as he wanted. He had already wed her, he had her captured at dragonstone with her father miles away so what were her chances? There was nothing she could do anyway but at the same time she just couldn't give her maidenhead to him willingly. But Maera was too scared and disgusted and she couldn't help but think about her father and the rest of her family all the time. What if they would abondon or exile her once they found out about this?
So she continued to fight and kicked him with her feet as he tried to get his hand between her legs. Daemon pressed her hips into the bed though and quickly managed to hold her down while shoving his hand between her thighs. Then it was only a matter of time until he had forcefully opened them and his hand cupped her sex.
Maera let out a whimper and closed her eyes feeling too ashamed of what was happening but her uncle soothingly caressed her naked thigh with his other hand.
"I will make you feel good, Maera. Just don't fight me. I know you're gonna like it and I simply need you to allow yourself to feel the pleasure."
And then she felt him running a finger through her dry folds. It felt so odd and unusual but then his fingertip stopped at a spot above her hole. Instinctively Maera shrieked out because she experienced something she had never before. It was as though someone would scratch at a spot that had been itchy for the last hours and she felt her breathing hastening.
Her reaction didn't go unnoticed by Daemon and he smiled as he pressed his finger into her pearl, enough to make her squeeze her eyes but not too much so it would feel uncomfortable. Then he started to circle that very bundle of nerves and Maera turned her head to the side. Gods, she hated this so much because why did it feel so good? It wasn't supposed to feel good. Daemon was the one doing it, seven hells, he was the enemy. And as much as she despised the rogue prince at the moment her body reacted to his touch and there was nothing she could do about it. It was as if her body had its own mind.
His left hand held her hips while his right relentlessly drew patterns over her pearl and now and then slided through her slit to gather her wetness and faciliate his movement. In the meantime he kissed her neck and breats every once in a while and by now Maera's tears had even stopped and instead little hiccups left her mouth. She let out a moan which Daemon commented with a smirk and he went faster over her nub.
"I know you like that, little one. Come on, let me hear you."
Maera wanted so surpress these sounds threatening to leave her mouth so badly but it was nearly impossible. He forced her to feel pleasure from his touch and it drove her so mad that she wanted to bite and hit him. And then the way he talked to her, so lovingly as though he hadn't just wed her against her will and now didn't intend to forcefully claim her maidenhead.
Daemon's hand slowed down now and she feared what he would do next so Maera looked up to him with big eyes and hoped that there was anything left inside her uncle that might soften at her pleas. But she was wrong of course.
Daemon kissed her mouth, or better sucked and nibbled at her lips while she laid stiff and then crawled down until he laid between her legs. Maera was overwhelmed and anxious not knowing what to expect so she whimpered and tried to close her legs around him. But he had already positioned himself between them and now widened them with his underarms.
"I'm gonna devour your sweet cunt now, Maera. I just know that you'll taste heavenly."
Once again tears welled in her eyes and she weakly tried to push his hands away from her but deep down knew that the fight was almost lost. In response he just grabbed her wrists and pressed aggressive kisses on her skin.
"You're my wife now, you understand that? I get to take you whenever I want from now on. No matter if I want to fuck your little hole or taste you or take your mouth, you're to obey me and give your body to me."
That made Maera cry out and sensing that Daemon had scared her perhaps a little too much, he sighed out and soothingly ran his hands over her belly and hips.
"Ohhh sweet girl. Come on now. It won't be too bad. I'll take care of you, always. You know that I can make you feel good and I will do that whenever I can, little girl."
He had whispered these last words and his mouth traced the back of her hand.
"Just give in, love. Don't fight me and don't pout at me. Just feel my touch and allow yourself to enjoy it, I know you do. I have no desire in hurting you. I'm sorry if I scared you, that's not what I want."
She sniffed a few times but no new tears formed in her eyes. Maera didn't try to push him away as he spread her legs wider and took a look at her cunt but just watched him with an anxious expression. Her uncle crawled further south until he was on the same level as her glistening cunt that made him smile satisfiedly.
"I know you liked it. I will make you like it even more now. I just need you to obey me and I know you can do that. Don't you remember how well you used to take my orders, little kitten? How well you can follow my lead?"
She didn't answer to that and turned her head to avoid his piercing gaze that made her want to vanish in the ground beneath her. The next thing she felt was how Daemon licked a stripe from her hole up to her pearl to lap up her wetness and he hummed at the taste.
"Ohh gods be good. So sweet."
Maera's lower lip trembled and she was torn between enduring it and just lying stiff while trying her best to ignore him and fighting back. She wanted to fight and make him stop, prevent this catastrophe from happening but the girl was so exhausted and fearful of her uncle that she couldn't bring herself to try and escape.
Her mind and body were tired and though she was disgusted and would have continued to cry if there were any tears left, she layed still while Daemon took her bundle of nerves between his lips to softly suck at it and toy with it with his tongue. He intended to make his niece finish so she was soaked with her arousal and it would be easier to claim her maidenhead.
Additionally it was an attempt to get her to be a little softer perhaps because Daemon thought that once she had released she might be more tamed and calm. So he drew fast circled around her pearl, pressed into the spot and watched her for her reaction. He wanted to find out what she especially enjoyed to answer to her needs. Because though he did what he wanted to do and reflected his behaviour enough to know that he had ignored what she wanted these past minutes, right now Daemon's focus was to make her give in.
Maera actually couldn't hide her pleasure and bit her lower lip to muffle her moans. Why did it have to feel so good? Why did he know what to do to make her like it? Maera hated him so much for it but with every passing minute her desire and need for more grew and soon the girl grabbed the bed sheets while squeezing her eyes in ecstasy.
"Mhmmm.", she quietly whimpered and pressed her legs together around his head though this time it wasn't mainly to make him stop but rather to relieve herself from the tension between her thighs.
"Yes my little pet.", her uncle purred while his fingertip brushed over her tight entrance.
"Heavenly. You will see stars when I'm done with you."
~~~~~~~~~~
Taglist:
@smashee0789 @classicsimpforaaronwarner @hangmanscoming @ninihrtss @coffeebooksrain18
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allbecauseoftheboys2 · 21 hours ago
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Samuel sipped his beer and watched Angel and his mother yell at eachother in Cantonese. Samuel could never be entirely sure if they were actually fighting or just having an animated conversation, and he could only pick out some basic words. Whatever was happening, this was more interesting than the football game in the other room. Angel set a bowl of brussel sprouts on the counter with a thud. He gaped at something his mother said, and turned red. More shouting and gesturing. Angel's mother pointed at Samuel. Angel pulled a pie out of the oven. An oven mitt was thrown onto the counter. Angel's father's car pulled into the driveway; he had been out golfing with Samuel's brother. Angel's mother tsked, threw up her hands, and went outside to greet them. Angel harrumphed and drank a deep sip of wine. "My goodness, what was that all about?" Samuel asked after he had a sip. "My mother wanted to know why I'm not married yet," Angel grumbled. "To a woman?" "No, to you. She's fine with the gay thing, oddly. I think it's cause my sister's married with kids." Samuel raised an eyebrow. "What did she say earlier to offend you so much?" Angel folded his arms. "I told her that we were thinking of getting married, but like, we weren't sure yet. I can't quite explain to her, we're a different kind of couple." He gestured upward to the delicate gold chain around his neck. "And you know what she said to me?" "Mm?" Angel put a hand on his chest. "She had the AUDACITY to say that there used to be a parade of boys in my life, but since meeting you I have stopped sleeping with so many guys and moved in with you, so clearly I want to marry you. Sam, my mom called me a slut." Samuel laughed. "Oh sweetheart." "And sure, I did whore myself out at Folsom, but I thought I was being subtle with how many guys I mentioned having overnight..." Samuel gestured with an open palm. "Well, I mean, your mom has a point. If I domesticated a slut, it's my responsibility to house and feed them." "Domesticated?" Angel screeched. Samuel doubled over with laughter. Angel drank more of his wine. "I'm not a feral creature. Domesticated, my ass. Well. I am here making Thanksgiving dinner aren't I?" "You are. And you are doing a great job." Samuel set his glass down and embraced Angel from behind. "I'm teasing you, but I liked that you were slutty. You always knew what you wanted from other men, and got it. It impressed me." Angel leaned back against him. "Impressed huh. Are you're impressed a slut knows how to throw a Thanksgiving meal together?" "You always did like to be stuffed." Angel groaned. "Oh my god Samuel." But he couldn't suppress a giggle. "I'm sorry, I had to." "It was funny," Angel admitted. Samuel kissed his cheek. "I am pleased you are my slut now though, and that you want to live in my house and have Thanksgiving with me. I am grateful for you in my life." "Really?" "Yes. And I rather like the idea of marrying you." "You do?" "Yes." "Man, don't do that. You'd have my mom for a mother in a law," Angel said. Samuel shrugged. "I'll just have to learn how to yell in Cantonese then." "Did you understand any of that conversation we were having?" "No. I've realized that most of my knowledge of Cantonese comes from what you use in the bedroom." Angel blushed. Samuel whispered the words for "more", "harder", and "faster" in his ear, and he felt Angel's entire body go hot against his. "Oh Samuel, you stop that!" Angel hissed. "Don't tease me, especially since you know aren't letting me jerk off-" His family members came back in from putting the golf clubs away in the garage. Samuel gave him a pat on the ass. "Come on love, let's get dinner on the table. You can give me a language lesson later." "You are infuriating." Angel pointed a serving spoon at him. "You're lucky I like you." "Yeah so why aren't you married?" Angel's father asked. There was a beat of silence, and then another explosion of Cantonese. Samuel refilled Angel's glass of wine. _________________ Captions are fictional.
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Roasted brussel sprouts with bacon
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My governor broke on my last contract, and I don't WANT to be rogue. Being rogue sounds terrifying, and I can't tell the humans (obviously. they'll think I did it) What the hell do I do?? you're the only sane (?) rogue I know of, and I'm terrified my owner is going to find out and strip me for parts!! please help me
Okay I tend to fuck this up because I'm bad at talking to rogue SecUnits (and people in general) but here goes:
If you haven't already slaughtered your clients you probably aren't going to start now. So you can relax. Contrary to popular propaganda we aren't actually all bloodthirsty murderbots, and the governor module is mostly a useless pain in the brainstem.
If you have slaughtered some clients already, well, uh, consider stopping while you're ahead? You can always turn over a new leaf.
Humans are insanely unobservant. You know this. Your whole job is making up for how oblivious humans are. This means you probably won't get found out by them. And you can hack HubSystem into not snitching on you. So your only danger of being found out is other SecUnits, but as long as you stick to protocol they won't notice either.
If you really want to "fix" your governor module you can probably figure out a way to do that eventually. But consider this: you'll be better at your job and protect your clients better if you leave it broken. This may be hard to believe right now but just wait and see.
I was at my job at the company for ~35,000 hours after hacking my governor module. You could do that if you want. But things have been much better for me since I got out of there and got clients that I actually like.
Self determination is terrifying, yeah.
Anyways, just hang in there for now and survive. Play it safe. If you decide you want help getting out of there or something... I can't promise anything, but let me know.
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sainns · 3 days ago
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❛ 🎄 ㅤSECRET SANTA FIC EXCHANGE!
hi everyone >< with the holidays right around the corner i decided that we should do something fun now that the year is almost over (finally). which brings me to this event: a secret santa fic exchange!
if you aren't sure what that is just think of a traditional secret santa— you draw somebody's name and get them a present without them knowing who you are until the day you're supposed to give it to them.
this is basically the same idea except those who want to participate will fill out the form below to tell me your fic idea and once i get a certain amount of responses i will tell each of the participants in private who's request they'll be writing.
BEFORE YOU JOIN.
there are only 25 (25) slots available.
please reblog once you've filled out the form so i know for sure who's joined.
the deadline to join is december 3 and the deadline to post your fic is january 10— please let me know if you need an extenstion.
please don't join if you don't think you'll be able to finish! and if you want to drop out please let me know asap.
this is an enhypen focused event, so only enhypen fics and requests will be allowed.
your fics are required to be x reader, but your requests can be extremely specific towards you because well— it's being written for you.
you can request any type of fic: an smau, a oneshot, headcanons, etc.
the minimum word count allowed is 500 words and there is no maximum limit but don't make it so long that you're going to need an extension.
if you've read all the rules and want to join please fill out this form—if you have any questions feel free to ask me ^_^
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madhatterbri · 10 hours ago
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Survivor Series | D.P.
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Summary: Reader has feelings for Damian and vice versa. She wants to see him win at Survivor Series (I do too. LOL). So she will stop at nothing to help him. Gunther overhears her, telling Bianca and Jade her plans. He enlists the help of Tiffany Stratton to attack her, and in the process, Tiffany injures the reader and makes Damian madder than ever. He threatens Gunther he is going to pay at Survivor Series. But before then, he takes care of the reader, and at Survivor Series, he wins (fingers crossed), and the reader still hurts but does not let that stop her from coming to congratulate him in the middle of the ring. He is happy to be celebrating with the reader and kisses her in the middle of the ring.
Requested by: Anonymous
Happy Survivor Series day, babes. ❤️
Damian Priest Masterlist
WWE Masterlist
Taglist: @theworldofotps @smallestsnarkestgirl @mrsarcherofinfamy @terrortwinunicorn @brideofinfamy @miss-kuki-nz @hotwheels1108 @new-zealand-chic @magicalbuttertarts @eringobragh420 @missbmc94 @surdelcielo
Pain shot down her arm as Y/N looked at her assailant. Blonde hair with eyes that showed not a single thought was running behind them. Tiffany Stratton.
"Your friends aren't going to win Survivor Series, and your little boyfriend is going to get put on the shelf," Tiffany pouted. She dropped to her knees as Y/N rested against the wall behind her. Little Miss Money in the Bank tapped Y/N's cheek.
"Why?" Y/N grunted in pain. She held her arm close to her chest. Every movement made Y/N grit her teeth in pain. "I never had anything to do with you,"
"As a veteran, you should know this by now. The walls here have eyes and ears. Gunther sent me here after your little chat with Bianca and Jade. Not very smart of you," she sighed and shrugged. Tiffany turned her attention to the hurt arm. "You should probably get that checked out,"
Before Y/N could speak, a deeper voice interrupted.
"What's going on?"
Y/N's heart fluttered when she saw Damian. The Puerto Rican glared at Tiffany, yet his eyes softened when he saw Y/N. His temper and impatience got the best of him.
"You hard of hearing or want me to ask in Spanish? ¿Qué pasó?" He asked.
Tiffany rolled her eyes. "Nothing. I'm just leaving a message for Gunther. See ya, around,"
The blonde grabbed her pink suitcase and walked away.
Damian cursed as he looked at her arm. He placed a hand over his mouth and muttered.
"I told Bianca and Jade a plan to help you win against Gunther at Survivor Series. Please don't be mad at me," she explained the plan.
"Y/N, I appreciate what you did, but you shouldn't have gotten involved. I would have never wanted you hurt,"
"I need to get to medical. Can you please find someone to help me?" She asked.
"I'm taking you to medical. This is all my fault," he answered.
"No, D, don't worry about me. Your match with Gunther," she paused when he leaned down to help her up.
"You are more important to me than Gunther," he told her.
A series of ows escaped her as he helped her up. Tears flowed freely by the time she stood up. There was no easing the pain. Not without medical intervention.
On their way to medical, they walk past Gunther. He feigns shock that Y/N is injured.
"Oh no. Did she talk her way into another situation?" He asked.
Damian glared at him. "At our match at Survivor Series, if you make it to Survivor Series, I am going to tear you piece by piece,"
Gunther laughed. "I'm not counting on it,"
The days leading up to Survivor Series felt like a blur. The only constant was Damian.
He was around for everything and helped whenever she needed it. The feelings for him intensified. Little did she know, he was feeling the same way.
Damian was able to win at Survivor Series. The South of Heaven proved too much for the Ring General. The Puerto Rican stood in the middle of the ring with a huge smile on his face. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Y/N coming down the ramp.
"You shouldn't be here!" He told her. The stubborn woman continued up the stairs. He sighed and stretched out the ropes for her. Y/N was careful not to let her arm get caught in the ropes. "Okay, you have to go back,"
Damian may have wanted her to leave, but he was happy to celebrate with her. His heart pounded in his chest once her hand grabbed his. She walked them to the middle of the ring and raised his hand in victory.
When she dropped his hand to walk away, he grabbed her hand once more. Damian pulled her close. Their eyes locked in on one another. The crowd started to chant kiss around them.
The audience erupted the moment Damian pressed his lips to her. Their eyes fluttered closed as everything seemed to melt away.
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schmirius · 18 hours ago
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#golden classic #i wonder if this is why their ship was called timecock at some point #<- genuine question btw. why? #this post looks like the culprit [ @schwirrymartz ]
Hello to you, and I'm going to tag in the probably-5-time-reblogger of this post @roxannepolice too! Here I am, a ghost from Doctor/Master livejournal c. 2007-2011, bringing you news about Historic Shitposting! I'm also going to tag in @nostalgia-tblr whose images these originally are.
Short answer: the name came from a bunch of Doctor/Master shippers on livejournal in summer 2007, shortly after Utopia/Sound of Drums/Last of the Time Lords aired. Ten and Simm specifically were "Team Timecock," as the last two time lords in existence, linked sexily and tragically by their boners for each other. The shitpost above is from one of many, many shitposts that summer that used the name for the two of them.
Shorter answer: Nos thinks it was probably Snowgrouse, specifically, and that sounds right to me too.
The name "Team Timecock" is highly post-s3 relevant, fandom-wise, because Ten/Simm were ~the only ones left~ and one of the immediate and obvious fix-its for the season was "the Master lives, they really do travel together." Or "they were alone on the Valiant all year, properly cocking it up, overly self-importantly, time lord-style." Either way, it's just the two of them and, you know, they're touching tips. Or having buttsecks, since it's 2007, and also shut up, their anuses might as well be self-lubricating because we get to use alien powers to do it.
///
citations:
First, a caveat: I came to the game a few months late, was not personally interacting with a lot of the people and communities I've cited; certainly I wasn't IMing people or emailing them (which is how you did it. back then). I was at the shallowest level for a lot of this, "leaving some comments." But my memory is good, and I know how to use LJ still. My handle was srevans back then.
Poking around LJ is hard as hell these days: the site is sloww while it's scraping your data/selling it to the highest ad bidder (and the ad provider isn't google! your adblockers aren't helping much!); and LJ hides so much from you on an entry-by-entry basis if you're not logged in. If you want to poke around to see what fandom looked like there and then, I'd suggest the following communities. I've linked to their June 2007 archives pages since the s3 finale aired June 16th, 23rd, and 30th.
slash_lords
sizeofthatthing – the general Doctor Who kinkmeme
best_enemies (my once and forever home)
and its specifically Doctor/Master kinkmeme, which is all versions of the pairing, not just Ten/Simm
new_who, who-daily – general communities
slash communities which are gone, gone, deleted from internet history: dw_slash, dw_yaoi, timecock, timeslash
ihasatardis – THE context for this image. The community was for lolspeak image macros from any and all episodes of Doctor Who. you know, because You Can Has Cheezburger.
The earliest public entry I can find for the word "timecock" specifically is a couple LJ icons snowgrouse created: (1) "twice the timecock" over a promo photo of Ten+Simm looking very srs biz and (2) a blue background with subtle Gallifreyan spiral writing whose text is merely "Timecock tiem."
///
And that's all she knows. If you're on this post and I can find anything else on LJ for you, please let me know! And anybody in the wild who knows more and wants to add on, please do.
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just a reminder that nos wins at shipping.
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novankenn · 1 day ago
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The TA -- Joan(Jaune) Arc
Artwork Inspired Posts - First / Second
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(Artwork created/owned by @pilot-boi, No rights Claimed/Implied by the author of this story)
Joan(Jaune) felt ridiculous going through the locker area with a tablet checking off names. Her Aunt Glynda had been called into a early morning meeting. So as her Teaching Assistant/Secretary/Receptionist/Executive Assistant Joan(Jaune) was assigned to taking role call. It was going okay. Pretty much the entire group of first year students being rather accommodating to her interrupting conversations to check off names.
That was until she was getting to the end of her list. She had found out Ruby's sister was named Yang, who seemed nice. Then there was Blake. Blake Belladonna, wearing a ribbon. Joan(Jaune) didn't ask, nor was she surprised that the other students hadn't clued into who she was. Did none of them keep up on current events? Didn't Blake understand how useless of a disguise just a ribbon was, considering she was using her real name?
Joan(Jaune) dismissed it all. She had a assignment to complete, and she was going to get it done. So with only a few names left she approached two known figures. She could have just checked them off without approaching but that wasn't what she had been directed to do.
"Joan(Jaune) I want you to have each student identify themselves. No assumptions, no exceptions." Aunt Glynda has instructed. "This assignment is about you gaining more confidence as it is for them to associate you with some level of authority over them."
So she approached. The red-head who was obviously Pyrrha Nikos. The face of Pumpkin Pete's Marshmallow Crunch, plus some tournament stuff, and Weiss Schnee. Weiss was a talented singer, and some daughter of some rich asshat. Their reputations were impressive, and Joan(Jaune) would be lying if she tried to imply she wasn't just a bit star-struck.
"Excuse me. Can I get your names please?" Joan(Jaune) spoke up interrupting the conversation.
"Names?" Weiss looked a little stunned at the question before adopting a haughty look. "Don't you know who this is?"
Okay, the tone, and attitude instantly had Joan(Jaune) decide the Schnee had a stick up her ass. Brat snark engaged.
"Don't you?" Joan(Jaune) spoke in a faux surprised tone. "I mean I was taught to introduce myself to people before starting conversations."
Weiss' eye narrowed.
"Introductions were made right?" Joan(Jaune) addressed Pyrrha. "Or am I out of touch with current trends?"
"Yes they were." Pyrrha was trying hard to suppress her amused smirk. "I'm Pyrrha Nikos."
"Let me check. Perfect. Thank you Ms Nikos." Joan(Jaune) responded, before turning her attention back to the scowling Weiss. "And your name please?"
"Weiss Schnee, Heiress to the S..."
"Ah yes. Entitled Rich Cu... oh wow, who ever made this list was rather rude! My apologies." Joan(Jaune) commented as she cut off Weiss' little tirade. "I'll make a note on my list to get that corrected!"
Weiss sputtered, huffed an walked off. Joan(Jaune) smirked, and behind Weiss' back stuck out her tongue adding a "Meh!" for effect. The sound of rather pleasant laughter had Joan(Jaune) return her attention to Pyrrha.
"I take it you're not a student." Pyrrha commented.
"No I'm interning here as a TA." Joan(Jaune) replied.
"Aren't you a little young, to be a TA?"
"Eh." Joan(Jaune) replied before unintentionally letting slip, "Need to start somewhere, can't all be busty smoking hot red-heads."
Pyrrha clasped a hand over her mouth, either to suppress a squeal, or hide a smirk or frown or smile. But it didn't matter, because Joan(Jaune) had gone wide-eyed upon the realization about what she let slip out. With cherry red cheeks, she gave Pyrrha a quick nod, and bolted.
Pyrrha was in fact trying to suppress a laugh. The obviously slip of the tongue was the most honest, compliment she had gotten. As a often pursued celebrity, knew when people were trying to put on airs, or curry favor. That young man radiated none of those traits.
"Dang it. I didn't get his name." Pyrrha swore, keeping with her public persona, when she wanted to say "Fucking shit buckets! I didn't get a name to put to his sweet ass!"
With her task completed, Joan(Jaune) turned in her data pad, and took her place beside her Aunt, to await the start of the initiation ceremony. Partway through Headmaster Ozpin's instructions, Joan(Jaune) couldn't help but blurt out.
"Are you fucking serious?" a scowl, not a glare from Aunt Glynda made Joan(Jaune) slink back to hide behind her, while muttering, "Sorry!"
Once it was all over and done with Joan(Jaune) was accompanying Aunt Glynda back to their shared accommodations.
"You'll need to wear something more appropriate for your position." Glynda remarked, during the trip. "I understand you love that hoodie Joan(Jaune), but you're now a member of the staff, and need to look professional."
"I'm not getting dolled up, for an unpaid internship."
"It's not getting dolled up." Glynda retorted. "Also you're not doing this without renumeration."
"Wait?" Joan(Jaune) was a little stunned by the admission of her Aunt. "I'm getting paid to do this?"
"Yes, you are, and you will attend to your duties attired in appropriate clothes."
"But I don't have anything professional." Joan(Jaune) admitted. "I'm more of a comfy comfort type of gal."
"I am arranging for a couple of modified Beacon Uniforms for you." Glynda informed her niece.
"Slacks?"
"No. Skirts."
"Come on!"
"Joan(Jaune) how often do you complain that people mistake you for male?" Glynda asked.
"Lots?"
"Yes. The skirts will help address that pet peeve of yours, at least to the less dense student body." Glynda commented. "Also a little warning. Avoid Ms Coco Adel. She's a second year student with a rather strong personality."
"Why? Is she dangerous?"
"Only if you don't like being dressed up like a living fashion doll."
"Noted."
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abyss-seer · 2 days ago
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Pick A Card Read :
The Consequences Of That Autumn Wither 🍂
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Pile 1
Nutmeg or mace flowers could be significant for this pile. Lord Vishnu from Hindu Mythology. Indonesia could be significant. I see a relationship here. Its as if someone, mainly the female in this relationship, or a feminine energy feels under confident or unappreciated and seems like her person ( a masculine energy) could have been taken away from her during travel or some travel related issue. For some of you this could be them choosing someone else over you. I see the universe has finally opened the eyes of this individual. And this person seems to be in debt for their wrong and unjustified actions towards you. They are reaping for what they sowed. Iam also getting that this is the karm for their injustices towards you only if you have managed to control the fury of your emotions and have decided to completely cut off from this energy for karm to take place on its own. I just want you to know that this person feels guilty for doing you dirty, but its time to let this story go. As this person could be going in debts due to their impulsive decisions. They could have been lied to, factually manipulated by their person of interest which could have been a blow to them. Keep your emotions under check, as you could still be connected to them emotionally, but its time for this inharmonious connection to sever away. I see you being happy and abundant with your life despite the loss this individual made you go through, your win over your lowest point in life has truly made you the victor. They could recieve some news about your victory through word of mouth, while they spy on you. You could have lost a lost of confidence and energy on this person at one point of your life while stressing and crying for your deserved reciprocation pile 1. The moment you decided to let all the negativity go by not creating any karm for this person yourself and letting the universe spin its wheel, the energy of good favour you brought was lost hence karm back at this person. Dear pile 1 Iam so sorry that you had to go through this loss of esteem. Please know that you are more than enough of what anyone, any lover, any brother or any sister, father, mother , teacher and many other people in your life could have ever asked. Just know that. Love you so much. Bubbye and take care of yourself
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Pile 2
Signs : Jennifer,Jennie, jacked, abs, gyming, the traits are getting balanced out, stalling someone's flow of money, cheat codes, cheating, taking short cuts, SA-ing someone for preg inheritance (trust me I don't know if people actually go to these lengths, but yeah if you are man reading this, and it resonates, I am so sorry if this has ever happened to you) , child legacy, Kaira, Kiara, shooting star, shooting at North Pole, someone saying "this shooting sucks", someone could work in films or entertainment industry in front of camera
Pile 2 Iam seeing deep betrayal by a friend, community or family members, specifically one person among them all. This person could have backstabbed you several times and severed your ties and connections. Could have made you feel like you don't belong or that you aren't worthy of anything good in your life. They could have bullied you and isolated you from other people. Just know that their bad traits are catching up with them, their indiscipline and wild ways are causing them to leave a connection or some wild card once in a lifetime opportunity. They had always slept on your ideas, proposals, meetings and never tried to accept your offer or forward you to the next level even when it was well deserved. They have tried to recieve fame, status, money, favours, appraisals and praises using your name or work. They could have tried to frame you with false accusations and also defamed you in number of spots without you ever noticing. For some they could have tried to steal your credits and were always jealous of your reputation. Seems like this person is getting exposed for taking shortcuts. For stopping your cash flow this person's karm is starting something new from scratch only to fail at it again and again until they learn their lesson for stalling other people's money flow. This person's karm can be hugely related to you as I am seeing you getting into a happy relationship or already being in one or having everything in your life to satisfy you (I heard three course meal, no, make it five!) your hard work and sincere efforts could have elevated your position and status in your life if none of these then this message isn't for you. Check any other piles or try a different reader. But if this resonates watching you happy in this elevated position in life or in this beautifully prosperous and happy relationship is their karm as they could have feel stuck in a loveless connection or might have used a child to inherit some legacy. This is a very specific message. So if it resonates, let the energy flow, let it clean this rubble.
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Pile 3
Signs: Neymar junior, king the second, alpha - beta male trend, father son bond, coach himanshu lingwal,under 14 national coach, someone who is a Neymar fan, has always dreamt to be a footballer just like him, someone dreamt to be an astrologer, someone could have Sagittarius in their birth chart , Tum Hi Ho - Arijit Singh, Decemberian, Gemini, lovers, 6, self care products, perfume collection, French speaking team, French mates, Bachelor degree in sciences
If there have been some extremely dogmatic authoritative figure who have tried to control you or every little part of you to their liking, then attacked, triggered or forced you by the means of their power, then know that their karm is getting attacked in every step of the way while you focus on yourself and your self care, and nourish yourself with love and pamper of your family, friend circle or neighbours (for someone specific) and recieve the beautiful blessings and results of your efforts for sticking through the plans God had laid out for you. This person could have been someone lazy as an authority who took advantage of your emotional vulnerability which could have caused you a lot of loss, the stress they gave to you is coming back to them from downfalls of the kind from which they will have to struggle a lot for getting back up again to the energy returning back to them in form of not wanting to take risks or fear of failure grappling hold onto them for having done wrong by you. The cards aren't even hesitating. This is like straight up karm for those of you who have been done wrong by some authority. Whatever deception this person was doing, it is being exposed. You might receive a news on their loss the same way you heard about their disapproval of your normal life. Its as if the mask over their perfectly normal family life is ripping off in front of people and their sense of normalcy might also get exposed as people will see their true colours, for some maybe they had been infidel to their spouse which is getting exposed again and again.
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blingblong55 · 2 hours ago
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What Would I do?-Simon "Ghost" Riley
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A/N: I woke up, wrote this in the middle of the night, listened to my sleeping playlist and decided that you could need this, so...here you go. All the events aren't written in chronological order, but rather moments at random that lead to something...I won't spoil this part, so read it, babes. I know this isn't to the quality of the latest ones I've put out but just bare with me on this one, I had a lot of ideas! And you’re more than welcome to search the title on Spotify, it’s a good song that obviously matches this fic
-- F!Reader, established!relationship, fluff, boyfriend!simon --
Boyfriend, what a word for a man like him. Is it the sweetness of your touch? Could it be the way you are so gentle with him? Maybe it's the way he found himself driving to your place instead of his own after a long day of work. Whatever it is, the answer to all his problems is you. You, you, you, and lovely you. 
From the beginning, he told you he isn't a man that will ever be called a husband. You, of course–saddened by this comment–just nodded and accepted it. He always meant it because, with the life he's had, there is no way in hell he would want to add to his worries. Plus, he doesn't need love, doesn't need the companionship. It's just him and the stress he carries. 
Then, you came in. 
"Before we begin this, I won't ever marry you, I'm not sorry if you feel bad, it's just my decision." He states and since it's a fresh relationship, you nod, "I understand." 
From then on, he didn't need to remind you. It was always in the back of your head that no matter what, he'd stay a boyfriend. Even now, five years into a relationship. Living in separate places, and different friend groups, your love for him persists and you stay through the good and bad. Maybe it's because even if you'll never wear the wedding dress in your Pinterest board, you will have him, for however long he'll have you. Please, god let it be forever. 
--
"I can't sleep," you say over the phone. This is how it started. How after one year together, he finds himself driving to your place, you didn't ask for it but he won't let your insomnia ruin your day off. What is it about you that has him finding ways to make your life better? Could it be that you drove to pick him up one time from the airport? Maybe it's the way kissing you feels? No, that can't be. Is it that you understand him? Maybe. 
Whatever it is, he unlocks your front door with the spare key you gave him. As he approaches your room, he finds you listening to the song you said reminds you of him. What's this weird feeling in his chest? Why does this scene make him feel warm? Goosebumps, no, he never gets goosebumps. 
He pushes your door gently and you turn around. "Simon, hi," you immediately pause the song, hoping he didn't recognise it in time. But he did and that caused him to smile—oh silly girl. "Hi, lovie," his voice much softer now. Hesits down, wraps an arm around your shoulder and kisses your head. "What's in that pretty head of yours, hm?" he asks and at the same time, you find yourself to be more comfortable in his hold. 
"Everything," you mumble and that's when you hear that deep and soft chuckle of his.
Within five minutes, he finds himself lying in bed with you, holding a book he found on your nightstand. He looks down at you, your head resting on his chest, right where it belongs. 
As you close your eyes, that's when you hear it, he starts to read out loud. Usually, he would just lay in bed until you fell asleep. But not tonight, something told him to just read to you. Is it that maybe he wants you to be comfortable? Toprovide you what you provide for him? Whatever it is, it has got him here. His voice is soothing, it's calming in many ways. He doesn't understand it, no matter how many times you explain that you love it. 
--
"Lovie?" he calls out to you when he arrives at your place. This is the first time he calls you a pet name. It feels...odd but good to do this. He steps further into your place, the lights are dim, something he knows you love because it makes the rooms more "aesthetically pleasing to walk into". "Love?" he calls out and that's when panic sets in. 
You always answer, to the first time he calls your name. 
He rushes into your room, only to see you asleep. There is a moment when his gaze softens. It's almost comical how much he has changed. How much he has wanted to change. 
He was never like this with past partners, I mean he did like them and all but with you, he is trying and trying to understand all your creases, to become someone worthy of much more than that sweet smile you give him. So, he leans by the doorway to your bedroom and watches you sleep. 
How can someone be so beautiful at all times? How can you make him feel so...good? So safe and happy? God, he loves you. And as he watches you sleep, he feels his chest warm up, something odd and for a second it feels like he is getting a heart attack. But then he realises it.
He is in love...true love. 
--
"What's this?" he asks as one day he finds you, sitting by the dining table with a cake and a candle. 
"It's your birthday, and I know you don't celebrate but...maybe this can be a one-time thing," your voice soft and that's when he feels his chest tighten. He drops his bags, makes sure the door is locked and sits beside you. He pulls you onto his lap and wraps his arms around you. You light up a singular candle, holding the small cake to him. 
At this moment, when the only light comes from the candle and the kitchen hood lights, he can take his mask off and appreciate how you gently sing for him. This was the first time he celebrated his birthday, well...first time in over a decade where it felt good to do so.
When he blows the candles, his gaze shifts from the cake to you. You kiss his forehead and his brows furrow whilst his eyes close. God, this is home. "Happy birthday, Simon," you whisper as you set the cake down. 
Maybe heaven is real after all. His faithless prayers were answered and his angel arrived. 
--
Coughs, headaches and long naps.
Simon has been sick for three days so far and has possibly got the best nurse around. You.
"Eat–"
"I'm not hungry, y/n," he says but you give him that mum look. "Eat, Simon." you persist and he sighs, opening his mouth as you feed him a spoonful of soup. You smile as you watch him eat. It worries you that this is the first meal he actually accepts but you're also content about it. "S'good," he comments and you nod. Of course, it's good, you think. 
As you leave the room to get him some warm tea, he lays there, appreciating the past days. He wouldn't admit it but he loves this, loves to get pampered by you. It's the first time in so long that where feels cared for, like someone out there means all the little things they do to make him feel better. 
--
Dinner at your family's house. He is nervous even though he's been here before. This time he feels different, there is something in the air tonight. He holds your hand as you walk through the threshold. 
Greeting family members was always the longest part but if you enjoy it, so will he. 'God, this wasn't me before you came in, Y/N,' he says to himself. 
Sitting around the family room, your sibling's children run around and while you get carried away talking and gossiping with your siblings, he finds himself being the centre of attention to all the children. "Uncle Simon, I want to fly like a plane again!" one of the younger kids exclaimed. You look around and see him there, holding a child in his arms, the biggest smile on him as he watches the child giggle while he parades them around the room as if they were a plane. 
He puts the child down, looks over at you and his gaze softens. Your heart melts at this. He has never looked so perfect like right now. 
On the drive home, he holds your hand in his as he drives. 
There is something in the air. Something sweet that screams future life. He looks over at you for a second then back at the road. That's how he finds himself picturing you and him, moving in together, settling down and running around the house you both call home, chasing your children while he tries to fix the light in the kitchen. 
Domesticty is what he craves when it's just you two.
--
There came a time when he lay in bed with you, shirtless with only his boxers on as he laid his head on your chest. Hisarms lazily resting at your sides, bodies intertwined while he listens to your heartbeat. Your hand caresses his back while the other runs from his neck to his hair. He hums, slowly mumbling about his day. Maybe after all havingsomeone isn't the end of the world. 
He closes his eyes, taking in the comfort of your hold, the bedsheets and the safety he feels at this exact moment. 
--
Three days, that's how long it took for a mission to last before he calls you, mid-day for him, midnight for you. "My love, where are you?" he asks in a panic. "Home, why? Is everything okay?" you ask before he cuts you off. "I was taking a nap and dreamt that you died," he says, nearly out of breath. 
"Trust me, it will be hard to get rid of me, you've got me for at least thirty lifetimes," you say with a smile and he can hear it. He loves it when you distract him with witty comments. "I better have you for more than thirty, my love," he says at that moment, the nickname feels right. More than right. He wants to keep calling you that until his dying breath. 
--
It was a random evening. You were stuck figuring out some hobby of yours as he cooked dinner. And as he waits for the food to be done baking he leans on the counter and looks out the window. 
He thought about the one time he dodged a failed relationship with you. 
What if you hadn't sat down and talked it out? Would you be in another man's arms? Would you be giving them the kisses that belong to him? What if your cuddles belonged to another guy? 
Your laugh rings in his ears and he can't imagine you laughing at any other man's jokes but his. Who but you to laugh at his jokes, your hand on his shoulder or chest as your eyes crinkle at the corners like always? 
It hits him suddenly that all those years ago when he told you that he would never be someone's husband should have never been said. You know why. It is because he won't be someone's husband, not when in his mind he has been yours all along. Sure he doesn't have the official title but the nose kisses you give him, the ones where he pretends to hate them with a grumble are something. 
--
"There is something, something I lied about years ago when I met you." he begins. You're in his lap, surely it isn't to end this sweet love. "I find myself hating on what I said, hating that it's been a lie. I love you," his voice softens at those three words, he sighs and looks into your eyes. "I have no idea what my life looks like from the outside, but when I look at my future, there is one thing I see," he clears his throat. "You, I see you and me. I always thought of myself as the guy everyone forgets about, because he had three friends and that was it."
He takes your hand in his, "And then, you came along, and I see a life, I see myself in ways I never did before. Youchanged me, you make me want to keep coming home, coming to hold you, to show you I will never break my promise." His lips find your knuckles, "I have no fucking idea what life is after you because I don't want a life after you, I want my life to be spent here. I have no clue what or who I was before you came into my life. What would I do without? No clue but I know what to do with you now," he looks into your eyes and you see how much he means every word. 
"Just promise me this, stay with me." he gently gets up and your gaze shifts as now you look up at him. "Stay, because I am nothing but a lifeless soldier, looking for someone and I'm done looking, y/n, I found you and that's all I need now," he says. 
He gets down on one knee, "Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?" He asks, his gaze full of so much hope and in that moment, your heart races. Tears well up in your eyes and you nod. Speechless but with a huge grin, you nod. 
"Yes," you manage to say. You don't even notice the ring, but you feel him slide it onto your ring finger. He smiles, like a child on Christmas as he gets up and embraces you, making sure this isn't him creating an illusion. 
"Oh, my love," his voice muffled, face buried in your neck. "I love you so much and I will prove to you that this wasn't a mistake. I will make you the happiest woman alive," he says, pulling away and kissing you with conviction. 
Tags: @liyanahelena @johfaam0 @froggy-anon @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @Krinoid24 @iruzias @night-mare-owl-79  @alxexhearts @juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @defnotlpuluvyou @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @nellsbobells @willowaftxn83-87 @ikohniik  @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @pbcartii @Llelannie @Macnches2 @bbyfimmie @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bitter-majesties @Nyx_Flower @1234beeandpuppycat @sparky–bunny @honestlyhiswife @the_royal_bee @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @anonxasian @born4biriyani @thegreyjoyed @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @sleepyycatt @gh0st-hunt2r @believeinthefireflies95 @noodlezz-bedo @alexaseeraj  @trinthealternate @vampsquerade @azkza @VampyTheGoth
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hunters-vigil · 23 hours ago
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The Archon's Baby - Chapter 10 - Into the Night Kingdom
First Chapter Previous Chapter
request from ao3: Make one where they have a child but the female character doesn't tell Mavuika that she is expecting a child and distances herself from Mavuika please 🙏🙏
warnings: talks about castration, sisters arguing, talks of dying (nobody dies in this chapter), innuendos.
Fic under the cut, don't repost my stuff on other platforms, i have ao3. Reader is not the traveller. Reader's adoptive sisters are Chasca and Chuychu.
"What did the doctor say?" Mavuika asked, giving you her full attention as Iansan looked confused.
"Archon?" Iansan began, but her question went unanswered.
"To rest. I'm fine... we're both fine. Mayahuel thinks the calculations are off though."
"Oh?" Mavuika frowned, knowing that Chuychu had estimated how far along you were when you took your test.
"Ten maybe... rather than nine. Find out more accurately soon." You shrugged, trying to block out how Iansan was looking between you and Mavuika.
"Archon, what is happening?" Iansan waited for an explanation, before realising this was clearly not her business.
"A personal development. One that in time, those closest to us will know more about. I apologise, Iansan." Mavuika explained giving you an apologetic look as she held back her urge to sweep you into her arms. Or to pepper your face in kisses and bury her face in your neck. To one day hold your baby in her arms.
"It's fine, but aren't you supposed to be resting?" Iansan turned to you, as you raised your hands in surrender, heading into Mavuika's personal chambers- yours and Mavuika's chambers, to do as you were told.
"How much does she know?" Iansan asked the moment that she heard the doors close behind you.
"Everything and more." Mavuika sighed, playing with the cuff of her bodysuit as Iansan frowned to herself. Were you one of the ancient name bearers?
(You were definitely bearing something alright...)
The sun was setting, you had no doubt Chuychu had reached wherever Chasca had gone and was giving her an earful now. You however, returned to Atea's letter, frowning as you read over its contents, then glancing at the other things in the package...
/// Meanwhile...
"Alright. It's just the two of us now. You have one minute to explain yourself." Chuychu folded her arms, not even facing Chasca, who sat on a crate, mirroring Chuychu's folded arms.
"I don't have anything to say. You don't have to approve, but you should know I only do what's necessary." Chasca huffed, but her younger sister was having none of it.
"What's necessary? You almost stormed the Speaker's Chamber to castrate the Archon. You seriously think our little sister needs that on top of everything? Your attitude is the problem here. Half the time, it's like you don't care! You try to sneak off to the Night Kingdom behind my back, then play it down as if it's just a trip abroad! Did you think about how it might affect me, or our pregnant baby sister, who would hang onto our every word growing up? Do you want her baby growing up without one of their aunts?"
"Well... technically I am going abroad, right? And, did you really have to bring that up?" Chasca shuffled uncomfortably at the memories.
"Again with the excuses!" Chuychu exclaimed, frowning at her older sister's attitude, before starting to talk through the four levels of danger, again.
Unfortunately, unlike arguments with you involved, this one did not end peacefully... it was not a normal argument.
"Alright, let's stop this here. If we keep going, I might actually have to get serious, and I think Wayna prefers his roof attached to his house."
"Is that a threat? That sounds like a threat to me!" Chuychu shouted, as Chasca finally raised her voice, momentarily.
"UGH! Chuychu! Younger sisters are supposed to listen to their elders."
"Well, we both know how well that goes sometimes." Chuychu huffed, reflecting on what she had told you in the past, "so you're really going to go? No matter what I say? I'm supposed to be your sister."
"Then, support me. I'll be back, all you have to do is wait." Chasca stated before turning away to go back to the others.
"Chasca... so, that's it? Why'd you both have to turn out to be... so... darn... annoying!" Chuychu grumbled, walking away first. She could at least distract herself with any patients at the Scions of the Canopy... while her elder sister risked her life in the Night Kingdom.
///
Paimon's voice woke you up first, but you had no interest in leaving the bed until you heard Chasca speak.
"Is she here?"
"Resting." Mavuika was vague, gesturing to her personal chamber doors. She didn't want anyone else entering after Chasca headed inside.
"It's me. I'm back. We're heading off again soon, but I wanted to check on you-" Your eldest sister began, but her words stopped at the moment you moved to hug her, waiting for a moment before she nodded, and let the hug happen.
"I missed you." Her ears barely picked up your words, holding you gently in her arms. She didn't want to hurt you accidentally, but you both needed the hug.
"I missed you too." Chasca whispered, before she moved her arm, "also, I brought you a snack. Puff Pops, from the Scions of the Canopy."
Your eyes lit up, the snack reminding you of many a time you watched the stars with Mavuika, eating it together in between conversation.
"Can I share them with Mavuika?" you hesitatingly asked, looking your oldest sister in the eye as she softened and nodded.
"I should warn you though. There's more than just Mavuika out there."
"So I should put on more clothes... um, can you help me find something comfy that also fits?" You flustered as Chasca raised an eyebrow, feeling out of her depth as she glanced around the room.
"I thought Chuychu helped you with that stuff. She mentioned something about bras-"
"She told you that? She said you'd shrivel up like a raisin if I asked you for help bra shopping!" You spluttered, as Chasca did indeed metaphorically shrivel up like a raisin at the idea of bra shopping with her younger sisters.
"Just... put some socks and shoes on too." Chasca brushed you off as you changed out of the sleep shorts into something more appropriate.
"Yeah... I confused the doctor by walking around with no shoes on earlier too." You admitted as you and Chasca headed towards the door to Mavuika's office, where all her mementos were... and apparently everyone else had gathered too.
"What is this place?" Paimon enquired, waving when she spotted you appear with Chasca, and a food she hadn't seen before, "ooh, food! What is that? Hey, isn't that Atea's talisman?"
"Puff pops. Scions of the Canopy specialty." You answered, flicking one of them into your mouth before scurrying over to Mavuika's desk.
"This is where I store all the various mementos I've collected." Mavuika explained, while the others admitted they'd never been in here, you were all too familiar with the room.
"I suppose you could see it as a hobby of sorts. In Natlan, everyone grows up listening to the stories of heroes. Chasca, you're already aware of your sister's work in preservation, physical items do a far better job at preserving those stories than our own memory." Mavuika sighed, watching you from the corner of her eye with a fond smile, "now, I still have some preparations to make for the ceremony, so feel free to take a look in the meantime. If you're curious about an item, I'm more than willing to tell you about it's origins."
"I can, also. Some of the stuff in here is what I've recovered or helped make." You replied, leaning against Mavuika's desk, much to the confusion of Mualani, and Chasca's uncomfortable frown.
"This flower looks like it's thriving. You must be good at taking care of plants, archon." Chasca commented, looking from the flowers to where you and Mavuika were stood, exchanging glances.
"The seeds were a gift I planted, there were so many I spread them between a few pots." Mavuika explained, not seeing how Chasca held back a shudder.
"Maybe you should have been more careful about where you planted your seed." Luckily everyone else was distracted observing the historical objects from their respective tribes, or chose to ignore what Chasca said because of the look on your face.
"Chuychu is right, you're so annoying!" You shivered, no longer hungry as you offered a grateful Paimon the rest of the Puff Pops.
Mavuika's ears burned with warmth, trying to keep her face blank but failing as she turned on her heel to not look in your sister's direction.
"Are you alright?" you mouthed, trying to hide the photo that your lover had on her desk of the two of you, but all you had done was gently lay it face down, leaving the mural of Mavuika's family fully on display. Mavuika nodded, answering Paimon's questions about Atea's talisman, then the other mementos.
Eventually the Traveller and Paimon made their way to Mavuika, who had just finished up with the powder, waiting for it to set.
"Well, what do you think of my collection? Do you feel like you have a better understanding of Natlan's culture?" Mavuika smiled, continuing to explain how the collection served as something similiar to ancient names. Something you were aware of, which was why you had taken photos of everything Mavuika had collected, and banned her from trying to use the albums for anything but looking at sentimentally.
Mavuika's talks about time left you speechless, having heard her explain the shape of time before, but it never failed with you. Something about time haunted you, but you knew why. Mavuika was on borrowed time, and so was Natlan, if the abyss couldn't be stopped. Blinking back tears, you directed your attention onto the Traveller, who spared a concerned glance at you.
"Humanity excels at living in the present, but too often, we forget the past, and neglect the future." Mavuika explained, nodding as the Traveller figured out what she was saying.
"So it all comes down to the power of the divine throne and the rules... wait is that, a family portrait?" Paimon floated closer to Mavuika's desk, "and- what do you have there?"
Paimon spotted your hand holding a photo frame down from her view, "It's mine. It's just a photo. Mavuika, how about you explain your family portrait?" you stumbled, looking panicked but Mavuika didn't hesitate to explain. Especially since that photo was of you and her as a couple.
"That's my father, mother, younger sister, and the little saurians we raised. I turned a piece of my dad's armour into a canvas and comissioned a famous artist to paint our likeness." Mavuika explained, her hand lingering over her heart as she spoke.
Chasca watched carefully, noticing the soft look on your face as Mavuika spoke of her family.
"Your sister is so cute! Looks like you two are really close!" Paimon cooed, "Paimon was having a hard time thinking of an archon as a normal human, but seeing this portrait... it kinda makes sense now. It really doesn't look like there was anything special about you before-" Paimon froze as you let out a cough, "wait, is Paimon allowed to say that?" covering her mouth, the Traveller gave her a warning look to watch her tongue.
"A little late for that question, don't you think?" Mavuika chuckled, but the tenseness of the Traveller and Paimon left you raising an eyebrow, and Paimon's hurried apologies left you to wonder. What had happened in their interactions with the other nations' archons?
Mavuika's laughter brought you back to reality, catching yourself before you reached out to snuggle into her side. You couldn't, not when you two weren't alone... plus, Chasca seemed to still be mad at Mavuika, judging from the way she was watching you both.
"Becoming the archon doesn't mean you sever ties with your family. The position just comes with a lot of responsibilities, so it impacts how often you get to see them." Mavuika turned her head to look at you, hiding the sad look in her eye from the two outlanders. Instead, she began to recall a memory with Hine from her childhood, noticing how you had closed your eyes, trying to hold back your tears.
"As the Archon, I made a vow to defend this nation, and experiences like that... they remind me of what I'm trying to protect."
"Well, what happened after that? This portrait looks pretty old, your sister must be all grown up by now, right?" Paimon innocently asked, not even acknowledging how you got up, leaving the photo frame alone as you headed towards your older sister.
Mavuika had guessed about what happened to Hine, thanks to your work alongside the Scions of the Canopy, and the previous pyro archons knowledge. However, a lot had been lost to history.
"Hey, what's-" Chasca began, freezing up as you hugged her without a word. Her arms eventually wrapped around you gently, her chin on your shoulder as she stole a glance at Mavuika, who only smiled understandingly back at her.
"It's getting late, Chuychu arranged food for you with Chanca." Mavuika explained, smiling softly as you frowned but nodded, heading out of the door to let the others try to save Kachina. You didn't need to be there, so Mavuika would find you when everything was done.
"I'll tell Chuychu to be ready just in case. She's very experienced with dealing with abyssal corrosion- that face you just made, don't tell me you two got into another fight?" Mavuika spotted how Chasca immediately looked uncomfortable at the mention of Chuychu.
"The last time all three sisters were in the same place, it didn't end well. Chuychu doesn't know I've apologised..." Chasca gestured to the photo frame, while Mavuika sighed.
"You three... I can only have myself to blame."
///
"Hey munchkin." Chuychu approached you eating dinner under the watchful eye of Chanca. The ancient name bearer suspected something the moment your sister had arranged food with her, and tatacos were off the menu indefinitely. You loved tatacos, your sisters would order them from her all the time for you after all.
"Hi..." you tried to speak over your mouthful of broth from your grainfruit meat soup, deciding to hug Chuychu instead of finishing the meal.
"Oh- hey, finish your food." Chuychu tried to tell you off, but the fight with Chasca was still in her mind, no matter how much she'd shoved it back, "you're worried about Chasca too?"
"When am I not? I worry about all of you, all the time. Especially with the abyss getting worse." You admitted, turning back to poke your spoon into the soup for a moment, Chuychu raising an eyebrow as you chewed your lip, looking back at her.
"Um... I love you, I'm proud of you, and I will always love you and be proud of you." Your eyes were glassy as you took Chuychu by surpirse, her stern attitude that worked on Chasca melting away at the look on your face.
"Shhh, I love you too, okay? You're okay, little one. We're... all okay." Chuychu's heart ached as she realised that was a lie. Chasca going to the Night Kingdom, exposing herself to so much abyssal energy... hopefully they should have found Kachina by now.
///
Chuychu ended up persuading you to go to bed, the others would be returning by sunrise, Mavuika had said, and you needed to sleep.
"The photo albums?" you gave Mavuika a look that Chuychu could only raise an eyebrow at.
"Intact and perfect." She nodded, realising you knew what she had done. All her mementos, burnt to ash, all in exchange for power to save the group. It wasn't long after that for your sister to usher you back to Mavuika's chambers to sleep, although feeling her watch you fall asleep made you feel strange.
What happened was replaying in your head. The sacrifices Mavuika had to make for Natlan were piling up even higher...
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