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mononijikayu · 3 months ago

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delicate — geto suguru.

Suguru glared at Gojo. “I’m not concerned, I just—” “Uh–uhuh, keep talking.” “I’m just some friend—acquaintance. Worried.” Suguru narrowed his eyes. “Seriously, Satoru. I don’t know what you’re going on about. If I'm in love with them, shoot me.” Without missing a beat, Gojo grinned, “Bang.” He made a playful gun gesture with his hand and gave Suguru a wide grin. “Cupid’s bullets confirm!”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Modern AU!;

WARNING/s: Fluff, Romance,, Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Friendship, Confessions, Humor, Getting Together, Mutual Affection, Love, Pining, Kissing, Profanity, Mention of Fighting, Mention of Bruising, Outcast! Geto Suguru, Popular Cheerleader!Reader;

WORDS: 6.9k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: i made this while thinking about what dynamic i wanted to see between cute couples. and here we are. this was supposed to be shorter too, but it ended up way way longer than 4k words. but im satisfied with this. i hope you enjoy!!! i love you all <3

ADDENDUM: i just found out gege akutami said jjk ends in five chapters and i just want to say that this is going to be hard for me since ive been a fan since 2019.

but i will say ill continue to write as much as i can for this story, enjoy the anime with you for years to come. im sad of course, but im thankful. im grateful for gege akutami for letting me meet his lovely story and his bountiful characters.

and of course because of him, i met all of you. i am very grateful. from beginning to end. i am crying but i am happy too. i love jjk a lot you guys. hugs and kisses to manga fans everywhere. lets hope for a happy end to the story we have loved 🥹🫶

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if you want to, tip! <3

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🌌*ੈ𑁍༘⋆

YOU WEREN’T LIKE EVERYONE ELSE. You were the it-girl, so sought after. The shining star. You were the girl everyone wanted to be—effortlessly beautiful, charming, and the center of attention at Jujutsu College. As a cheerleader, you had it all: the admiration of your peers, the envy of others, and the kind of popularity that opened every door.

Everywhere you went, eyes followed. Whispers trailed in your wake, a symphony of awe and envy that only fueled your rise to the top. You were untouchable, your smile a weapon, your presence a force. Parties, events, and the campus buzzed with your name. Everyone wanted to be near you, to bask in the glow of your effortless charisma. But all of that came crashing down when you chose to stand up for what you believed was right.

The whispers got worse the moment they took to the locker room. One of the newer cheerleaders, a girl named Emi, was their target—shy, awkward, and an easy mark for their cruelty. You watched it unfold for days, biting your tongue, hoping it would stop. They were the same, the seniors who already graduated. You let them do it then, because you hoped they’d stop like the seniors did. But they did not. Instead, it went too far.

You looked at them for a moment, trying not to be obvious. This was going too far. The girl was about to cry, maybe she’d even get even more hurt. This is enough. You cannot stay and just stay silent anymore. Maybe it was the memory of your own first days on the squad, when you weren’t yet the queen bee, when you still had something to prove. Or maybe it was just a sense of fairness that you couldn’t ignore. But you knew that this had to stop. This has to end.

"God, Emi, you can’t even get a basic cheer right. Why are you even here?" one of the girls sneered, her voice dripping with disdain.

Emi stood frozen, her eyes welling up with tears. The other cheerleaders laughed, egging each other on, pushing her closer to the edge. You bit your lip, closing your locker with a loud bang, causing everyone to look at you. You could feel Emi’s eyes on you too, shaking with fear as tears fell from her cheeks.

“Leave her alone, you freaks!” you said, your voice sharp as you stepped forward. “That is enough. She doesn’t deserve this. You’ve gone too far, even more than our seniors!”

They turned to you, surprise flickering across their faces before it morphed into mockery. You moved forward to the captain, eyes narrowed as you glared at her. You shook your head at her. “Just leave her alone. She’s a freshman. She doesn’t need your shit.”

“What, are you her knight in shining armor now?” one of the lackeys taunted, crossing her arms. “You’re supposed to be on our side, aren’t you? This is a tradition for us seniors.”

“I’m on the side that’s not full of bullies.” you shot back, your anger boiling over. “Being bullied doesn’t mean you should be one!”

“What’s your problem?” another girl snapped, stepping closer, her tone threatening. “She’s dead weight, and you know it.”

You clenched your fists, trying to keep your temper in check. “My problem is that you’re all acting like a bunch of jerks. If you can’t see that, then maybe you’re the dead weight.”

The tension in the room exploded like a storm that had been brewing for too long. You could feel it in the way the air seemed to thicken, in the way eyes narrowed and lips curled into sneers. It started with a harsh word—one of those sly, cutting remarks that slid under the skin like a blade. But this time, you couldn’t let it slide. Not when it was aimed at Emi, the quiet girl who had been on the receiving end of too many of those slights.

You were on your feet before you even realized it, the words spilling out of you in a rush of anger and defiance. “What’s your problem? Why do you always have to pick on someone who’s done nothing to you?”

Your voice cut through the chatter, silencing the room. The others stared at you, shocked that you—of all people—would dare to break ranks. The lead cheerleader, the queen bee, glared at you, her eyes narrowed into slits. “What, are you her bodyguard now? Don’t act like you’re better than us.”

It was the spark that lit the fire. The room erupted into chaos as insults were hurled back and forth. You didn’t back down, not when they turned their barbs on you, not when they sneered at Emi. It all escalated so fast—too fast. Suddenly, hands were shoving, nails were scratching, and before you knew it, you were in the middle of a full-blown fight.

You could barely make sense of it all. The adrenaline surged through you, drowning out the pain as someone’s fist connected with your cheek, leaving a nasty bruise that would bloom later. All you could think about was protecting Emi, keeping her out of the fray, even as the world around you descended into chaos.

The chaos only ended when the coaches rushed in, their voices booming as they waded into the mess of tangled limbs and flaring tempers. They pulled you all apart, demanding to know what had happened, their faces a mix of shock and anger.

But it was too late—the damage was done. You could see it in their eyes, the way they looked at you now, like you were the problem. The principal was called in, and you found yourself standing in his office, staring at the floor as he lectured you about school spirit and the responsibilities that came with your position.

Your words fell on deaf ears. They didn’t want to hear about the bullying, about how you were just trying to protect Emi. All they saw was the fight, the disruption, and the girl who had gone from golden to tarnished in a matter of minutes.

When you returned to the locker room, it was like a slap in the face. Your things had been removed from your team locker, stuffed unceremoniously into a bag and left on the floor. You were no longer welcome. The cheerleaders, the same girls who had once been your closest friends, looked at you with cold eyes and turned their backs.

You had wanted to protect Emi, and now you were left with a throbbing bruise, a reprimand from the principal, and a cold emptiness where your friends used to be. But even as you walked out of that locker room, head held high despite everything, you knew you’d do it all over again. Because some things were worth fighting for, even if it meant losing everything else.

The next day, you found yourself officially kicked off the squad. Well, Emi was also kicked out too, but you were glad that she wasn’t at all hurt. That was what mattered. The news spread like wildfire, and the people who once idolized you now whispered behind your back. Your world felt like it was crumbling, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d made the biggest mistake of your life.

Later that afternoon, you found yourself sitting alone outside, trying to process everything that had happened. Emi had repeatedly apologized to you today, but you kept waving her off and told her to stay safe around school. It wasn’t really her fault. Maybe if you had acted much earlier, maybe Emi wouldn’t have had to go through the worst. Perhaps this was your punishment. This was what happened because of your inaction. And you feel like you deserve this. You deserve to be punished like this. You could only sigh.

That’s when you heard someone approaching.

“You know, I always thought cheerleaders were supposed to be a tight-knit group.” a voice drawled.

You looked up to see Gojo Satoru standing there, hands in his pockets, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “Guess I was wrong, huh?”

“Guess so.” you muttered, feeling the sting of his words even though they weren’t meant to hurt. “I’m sorry, have I met you before?”

“I don’t think so.” He says, removing his round sunglasses. “Have we met before too?”

“Don’t think so.” You admitted also, face scrunching in confusion. “I don’t meddle around with unpopular kids.”

“Hey, hey, I’m not unpopular.”

“Then why have I never heard of your name before?” You raised your brow.

“I don’t know, maybe you were too focused on being a cheerleader and me being a Digimon stan?”

“Oh, so you’re a nerd!” You clapped your hands together. “That makes sense why I haven’t heard about you.”

He sighed. “You cheerleaders are cut throats, aren’t you?”

“I’m an ex–cheerleader now. Not really much of a cheerleader anymore.” You snickered. “Those pom pom waving mean girls, goodbye them!”

He plopped down next to you, stretching out his long legs. “So, what’s the plan now? Are you gonna go all lone wolf, or are you open to a new company?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Why do you care?”

Gojo shrugged, his smile widening. “Because I’m curious about the girl who went from queen bee to outcast in one day. That takes guts.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, though it came out a little bitter. “Or stupidity.”

“Or both, you know?” he agreed easily. “But I like guts. So does Shoko. And Suguru. And Kento and Haibara. You’d fit right in with us.”

“Fit in?” you echoed, not sure if he was being serious. Your face reminded Satoru of how Kento reacted to him asking to be his friend.

“Yeah.” he said, leaning back on his hands, looking up at the sky. “We’re not exactly the most popular kids on campus, but we’re fun. And we don’t care about that petty stuff.”

Before you could respond, Shoko Ieiri appeared, hands stuffed in her lab coat pockets, a cigarette dangling from her lips. “You’re not bothering her, are you, Gojo?”

“Me? Bother someone? Never, Sho.” Gojo said, feigning innocence. “Just making a new friend.”

Shoko rolled her eyes and looked at you. “He’s right, though. You’re welcome to hang with us if you want.”

You hesitated, glancing between them. “I don’t know…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Shoko said with a lazy grin. “We don’t bite. Well, maybe Gojo does, but only if you ask nicely.”

You laughed again, this time more genuinely. “Okay… I guess I’ll give it a shot.”

As the days passed, you found yourself drifting away from the cheerleaders and into a new circle. It started subtly at first, with Gojo casually inviting you to sit with him and Shoko during lunch. Gojo’s easygoing nature made it hard to say no, and Shoko’s dry humor quickly drew you in.

They didn’t seem to care about the drama that had turned your life upside down. Gojo’s bright grin and carefree attitude were a stark contrast to the cold shoulders you’d been getting from your former friends. Shoko, with her sharp wit and laid-back demeanor, offered a kind of friendship that felt refreshing, real in a way that the cheerleading squad never had.

Soon, Geto Suguru and Nanami Kento joined in. Suguru had a quiet confidence about him, a steady presence that was both comforting and intriguing. He didn’t ask about the fight or why you weren’t with the cheerleaders anymore. Instead, he offered a warm smile and an understanding nod, as if he knew without needing to be told.

Nanami, on the other hand, was more reserved. He didn’t speak much at first, but his presence was reassuring. There was a steadiness to him, a sense of reliability that you hadn’t realized you craved. He welcomed you into their group with a subtle nod, a small but genuine gesture that told you he saw you for who you were now, not who you had been before.

Each of them, in their own way, made room for you. They didn’t treat you like the fallen star or the girl with the tarnished reputation. With them, you didn’t have to pretend. You could be yourself—no masks, no expectations.And slowly, you began to feel something you hadn’t felt in a long time: belonging.

That afternoon, all of you were sitting together under a tree on campus, watching the world go by. Geto Suguru was in the middle of explaining something, his voice calm and soothing, while Nanami listened quietly, offering his thoughts every now and then. Yu was more excited trying to make friends with you than before. You think it's interesting, how this ball of sunshine saw you as some sort of superhero for what you did, even if you didn’t.

Yu Haibara, ever the sunshine in human form, plopped down beside you with a grin. “Hey, I heard about what happened with the cheer squad. Pretty badass, if you ask me.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of genuine friendship for the first time in what felt like forever. “Thanks. I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing, but…”

“It was! You’re so cool, you know?” Haibara said firmly. “Standing up for someone who needed it? That’s always the right thing.”

“Besides, it’s just what it is, you know?” Geto added, looking over at you. He was smoking his cigarette roll, one he made himself. “You don’t have to be what you aren’t.”

“Yeah.” Nanami agreed, his voice steady and reassuring. “You don’t have to pretend to be something you’re not with us.”

You looked around at them—this group of people who had taken you in without hesitation, who saw you for who you really were, not just the image you had projected for so long. And for the first time in a while, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

As the weeks went by, you found a surprising sense of belonging with Gojo, Shoko, Suguru, Nanami, and Yu. They had become your new circle of friends, and their acceptance gave you a fresh start that you didn’t know you needed. They were a new sort of fun, a different kind of excitement that was worlds apart from the polished, high-pressure life you’d known as the it-girl.

With them, your days became filled with spontaneous adventures. Gojo was always dragging everyone to the arcade, where his competitive streak made every game feel like a high-stakes challenge. Shoko would roll her eyes at his antics but still join in, her laughter adding to the cacophony of beeping machines and cheerful music. Suguru, ever the cool-headed one, had a knack for choosing the perfect music stores to visit, introducing you to tracks that soon became the soundtrack to this new chapter of your life.

Nanami and Suguru were more reserved, especially at first. You could tell they were still feeling you out, trying to figure out if you really fit into their group. But even in their uncertainty, they made an effort. Nanami, despite his serious demeanor, would show up at the burger joints Gojo loved, quietly indulging in the greasy food and ridiculous banter. Suguru, with his calm presence, would often give you a slight smile or a nod, a small but significant sign that you were being welcomed, even if it was cautiously.

Yu was the glue that held it all together, his infectious energy and boundless enthusiasm pulling everyone along. Satoru was as enthusiastic as he was, but unlike him — Yu was someone that tried to keep everyone in good peace together. And he was good. He had a way of making you feel included, whether it was by handing you a spare controller at the arcade or making sure you got the best seat at the burger joint.

That’s just how it was with them. You didn’t have to worry about the petty dramas or the constant pressure to be perfect. With this group, it was all about the moment—the thrill of a high score, the taste of a greasy burger, the discovery of a new song. And you liked it. You liked who you were becoming with them.

Gojo leaned back in his chair, tossing a sugar packet from one hand to the other. “You know, you fit in with us better than you did with that cheer squad.”

You shot him a playful glare. “Are you saying I was too good for them?”

Shoko rolled her eyes. “Stop teasing, Gojo. You’re ruining the vibe.”

“Hey, I’m not!” Gojo argues as his grin spreads, “Just that our new friend here is way cooler than they ever gave them credit for.”

You looked at Shoko, who was sipping her coffee with a look of amused tolerance, added, “He’s right. They were just too busy with their drama to see how awesome you are.”

Suguru, sitting across from you, offered a more thoughtful observation. He bit into his fries. “Sometimes, it takes getting knocked down to realize where you truly belong. You were always meant to be with people who appreciate you for who you are.”

Nanami, who had been quietly observing, nodded in agreement. “You’re a good blend with us, I think. We’ve had a lot of fun since you joined us.”

Yu Haibara, always the optimist, leaned in with a grin. “Yeah, and you’ve made things a lot more interesting around here. It’s not every day we get someone with your… spirit.”

You smiled, feeling a warm flush of gratitude. “Thanks, guys. I wasn’t sure where I’d fit in after everything that happened, but I really appreciate how welcoming you’ve all been.”

The conversation shifted to lighter topics, and you found yourself laughing more than you had in a long time. It was a refreshing change from the pressure and pretense of your previous life.

As the night wore on, Gojo suddenly stood up and stretched. “Hey, who’s up for a late-night walk? I heard there’s a new food truck downtown.”

Shoko raised an eyebrow. “You just want an excuse to get more snacks.”

“Guilty as charged.” Gojo admitted with a wink. “But you’re all welcome to join if you’re up for it.”

“Sounds good to me.” Suguru said, standing up and grabbing his coat.

You looked around at your friends, feeling a genuine sense of contentment. “I’m in.”

“You feeling cold?” Suguru asked as he saw you stand from the booth.

“A little—” He threw you his jacket, which you were barely able to catch.

“Put it on.”

“O–oh, okay.”

As you all walked together through the city streets, the cool night air filled with laughter and conversation, you realized how different this life felt from the one you had left behind. There were no superficial judgments, no hidden agendas—just a group of people who valued each other’s company and had each other’s backs.

Later, as you shared food and stories under the streetlights, you found yourself in a moment of quiet reflection. You had come so far from the popular girl who had been kicked out of the cheer squad. You were no longer defined by your past status or the mistakes you’d made. Instead, you were part of a new chapter, one where you were valued for who you truly were.

Gojo’s laughter broke through your thoughts as he tossed a piece of popcorn into the air, catching it with a grin. “See? This is what life’s about—good friends, good food, and not taking things too seriously.”

You laughed, feeling the weight of the past lift off your shoulders. “I couldn’t agree more.”

In that moment, you knew that despite everything you had been through, you had found something real and genuine. And as you walked beside your new friends, you felt a renewed sense of hope for the future, knowing that wherever life took you next, you would face it with people who truly cared about you.

But in that moment, Geto Suguru looked at you and thought to himself for a moment, just for that moment — how good happiness looks on you.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🌌*ੈ𑁍༘⋆

IF HE WAS BEING HONEST, HE’S NOT ONE TO TRUST PEOPLE EASILY. But coming from a rough place in life, it was something that can’t be helped. So, in the beginning, Geto Suguru had his reservations about you. He’d heard the rumors about the cheerleader who had once been the queen of Jujutsu College, and he wasn’t impressed. To him, you seemed like just another snob who was used to getting their way and couldn’t be bothered with anyone outside her circle.

When Gojo tried to blend you into the group, Suguru’s attitude was guarded, and for a good reason. So, he kept his distance and even interacted with you, he tried to be casual, trying to not get too deep into it.

He remembers what he said then — “I’m not really into the whole ‘cheerleader’ thing,” he’d said with a shrug. “Not my style. So they're still not my style either.”

You had sensed his cold demeanor but tried not to let it bother you. Instead, you focused on being yourself—friendly, outgoing, and always ready to lend a hand. You wanted to prove that you weren’t just the image people had of you. Even though you could still be rough in the edges with your personality, it didn’t stop people from enjoying your company.

And over time, Geto Suguru began to see a different side of you. You didn’t just laugh at his jokes or offer superficial compliments, nor were you as stuck up as people make you out to be; you were genuinely kind and considerate. You had a really good way of making others feel comfortable, and it wasn’t long before he found himself intrigued by the real you, the one who went out of their way to help others despite their own struggles.

One evening, as the group hung out at a quiet park, you were sitting on the grass, talking animatedly about a new project you were excited about. If he was being honest, excitement was a beautiful color on you. And he thinks that he wants to see more of that in you. He could only sigh as he thought about how much you’ve occupied his mind. He shakes his head. Suguru looks above the sky, trying to distract himself while Satoru spoke to everyone about his new date.

“You know, Suguru.” you said, glancing over at him, snapping him back to reality. “I really appreciate how you’ve been around lately. And how not awkward it is between us now. It means a lot to me.”

Suguru raised an eyebrow. “I’m just here because Gojo dragged me along. Don’t get any ideas.”

You laughed, unfazed. “Yeah, yeah. But seriously, you’re not as bad as I thought you’d be. I guess we’re not so different after all.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe. But don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not here to make friends. I’m here because I have to be.”

Despite his words, you noticed subtle changes in his behavior. He was more engaged in conversations around you, his smiles more frequent, and he’d even started teasing you back. You found yourself drawn to him more and more, your feelings shifting from admiration to something deeper. The way he would look at you, even with his usual aloofness, made your heart race.

After a particularly lively conversation about your favorite books, Suguru caught you off guard with a rare moment of vulnerability. He looked at you with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

“You’re really persistent, you know that?” he said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “I didn’t think I’d be saying this, but you’ve managed to get under my skin.”

You grinned, feeling a rush of hope. “Is that a good thing?”

Suguru looked away, his expression turning more serious. “I’m not sure. I told myself I’d just tolerate you, but… the more I hang around, the harder it is to keep my distance.”

He was fighting it, trying to convince himself that his growing feelings for you were nothing more than an annoyance. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do.” he continued, frustration evident in his voice. “But I’m not someone who easily changes his mind. So don’t expect too much.”

Despite his words, there was a softness in his eyes when he looked at you, a clear sign that he was fighting a losing battle. The more you interacted, the more he found himself charmed by your genuine warmth and infectious enthusiasm. And he didn’t know what to feel about that. He doesn’t know how to react to you.

You were infatuated with him, and it became clear that you wanted his attention—more than just casual conversation, more than friendly banter. You wanted to be the one who made him smile, the one he thought about when he was alone.

And though Suguru tried to keep his distance, you could see the cracks in his resolve. His stoic exterior was melting away, little by little, with every shared laugh, every meaningful conversation. He couldn’t deny the way he felt any longer, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise.

In moments of quiet, when it was just the two of you, Geto Suguru’s demeanor softened. He would catch himself gazing at you with an expression that betrayed his irritation with his own feelings. He was torn between his desire to remain aloof and the undeniable pull he felt towards you. As you continued to be your bubbly, charming self, Suguru found himself drawn to you more and more, fighting a battle he wasn’t sure he wanted to win.

The house party was in full swing by the time you and your friends arrived. The sorority house was buzzing with energy, and the crowd was a mix of familiar faces and new ones. You were excited to be there, especially because you had a date with you—Mark, a guy you had been seeing for a few weeks.

Suguru Geto, always the reserved observer, was there too, though he seemed more detached from the festivities. He had taken a spot near the snack table, his gaze scanning the room. When he noticed you with Mark, he gave a curt nod but didn’t say much.

As the night progressed, Suguru found himself cornered by Mark, who was chatting animatedly with a group of people. You had gone off to mingle with others, leaving Mark to his own devices. Suguru, being the stand-up guy he was, decided to introduce himself.

“Hey, I’m Suguru.” he said, offering a polite smile. “So, what’s your story, bro?”

Mark took a swig of his drink and grinned. “Oh, I’m just here to have a good time, mess around, party hard. You know how it is.”

Suguru nodded, trying to make conversation. “Yeah, I get it. So, how long have you and my friend been seeing each other?”

Mark’s smile faltered slightly. “A few weeks. But, honestly, they're kind of a handful.”

Suguru’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he kept his tone neutral. “Oh? How so?”

Mark shrugged, looking around to make sure no one else was listening. “They’re always so cheerful and in-your-face. It gets old pretty fast. And don’t get me started on their mood swings. Sometimes they’re all sunshine and other times, they’re just… exhausting.”

Suguru’s smile faltered, and he could feel a simmering anger rising. “I wouldn’t say that. They’re actually really kind and caring. Maybe they’re just passionate around you.”

Mark snorted. “Passionate? More like over–dramatic. You must be used to it, though, considering you hang out with them.”

Suguru’s jaw tightened. “I think you should stop talking about them like that.”

Mark raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the reaction he was getting. “Why? It’s the truth. You know, they could be a lot better if they just… toned it down a bit.”

Suguru’s eyes darkened as he took a deep breath. “Seriously, stop it.”

Mark continued, oblivious to Suguru’s mounting frustration. “They’re always making everything about themselves, always trying to be the center of attention. I don’t get why you’d even bother with them. They’re literally like….a bitch..”

Without warning, Suguru’s hand tightened around his beer bottle. He took a step forward, his voice low and dangerous. “I said, stop.”

The tension in the room was thick, a simmering undercurrent that everyone felt but no one acknowledged—until Mark pushed too far. He had been needling Suguru all night, his criticisms growing more pointed, more personal with each passing minute. The rest of you tried to steer the conversation away, but Mark wouldn’t let it go, his words becoming sharper, crueler.

Suguru had been holding back, his calm facade cracking only slightly as he tried to keep his temper in check. But when Mark ignored him and continued with his relentless criticisms, something inside Suguru snapped.

In an instant, he moved. With a swift, fluid motion, Suguru swung his beer bottle, the action so smooth it was almost graceful. The bottle connected with Mark’s face with a sharp crack. The impact was immediate and satisfying, sending Mark stumbling backward as beer splashed across the floor, the bottle shattering in Suguru’s hand.

The room fell into stunned silence.

“Goddamn it, Suguru!” Shoko’s voice was the first to break the quiet, a mix of shock and exasperation. She stepped forward, ready to pull Suguru back if needed, though there was a slight smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. “Couldn’t you have at least waited until he finished his drink?”

Nanami, who had been lounging in the corner, raised an eyebrow but didn’t move from his spot. “Well, that escalated quickly.”

Shoko sighed deeply, looking around. “I’ll call someone to clean this up. And maybe get some ice for Mark.”

Mark, clutching his face where Suguru had punched him, looked up in stunned disbelief. “What the hell, man? You’re crazy!”

Suguru’s eyes were cold as he glared down at him. “No. I’m done listening to your crap. You should’ve known when to shut up.”

“You all are a bunch of crazy freaks! Especially that bitch!”

“You don’t get to talk about them like that!” Suguru said, his voice steady but filled with a cold edge. “Not on my watch.”

Mark looked up at him, a mix of pain and surprise in his eyes. He didn’t say anything, just backed away slowly, still holding his nose. Yu came between them. “Hey, hey. Let’s all calm down, okay?”

Suguru turned on his heel and walked away, heading outside to cool down. He needed some fresh air and space to collect his thoughts. You, having witnessed the altercation from a distance, rushed over to Suguru, concern etched on your face.

You spotted Suguru standing alone in the hallway, his gaze distant as he tried to calm down from the confrontation. Determined to get some answers, you made a beeline for him, your concern and curiosity palpable.

“Suguru, what happened back there?” you asked, trying to piece together the events of the night. “Why did you hit Mark?”

Suguru glanced at you, his expression a mix of embarrassment and frustration. “It was nothing. He just… he crossed a line.”

“No,” you said, putting the pieces together with a sudden burst of realization. “He called me a bitch, didn’t he? That’s why you hit him. You hit him for me!”

Suguru looked away, his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. “No, that’s not—”

“Yes, it is!” you interrupted, your excitement and relief bubbling over. “I know I can be a lot sometimes, and I am a bitch! But you actually care about me. You love me, don’t you?”

Suguru’s face turned a deeper shade of red, and he mumbled, “No…I didn’t…”

Suguru’s thoughts were still a whirlwind, his mind racing to process the events of the night and the emotions that came with them. He needed to clear his head, and talking to Gojo seemed like the quickest way to do that. He excused himself and quickly went back inside. As he entered the kitchen, the room was a stark contrast to the chaos outside—bright, warm, and filled with the comforting aroma of Gojo Satoru’s sandwich-making.

Gojo stood by the counter, casually assembling a towering sandwich with practiced ease. His movements were relaxed and carefree, a stark contrast to the tension that Suguru was radiating. He glanced up, taking in the scene with a curious, slightly amused expression.

“What’s going on, man?” Gojo asked, his tone light as he continued to layer on the ingredients. “I heard there was a bit of a commotion.”

Suguru tried to compose himself, but the frustration was evident in his voice. “Mark was being a complete jerk. He was bad-mouthing them, and I… I lost my temper.”

Gojo raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “He was talking about them? What did he say?”

Suguru’s jaw clenched as he recounted the encounter. “He kept going on about how they are a handful and how they’re exhausting. He was just being really disrespectful. Even called them a bitch, mind you!”

Gojo’s eyebrows knitted together in surprise. “And you punched him for it?”

Suguru nodded, his gaze intense. “Yeah, I did. He wouldn’t stop, and I just couldn’t let him keep talking like that.”

Gojo’s expression shifted from amusement to genuine concern. “Are they okay?”

Suguru’s frustration softened a bit as he considered your well-being. “They’re fine. I mean, they did seem surprised, maybe in some way upset, I don’t know. But they’re okay. It’s just… I don’t like seeing them being talked about like that.”

Gojo’s eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and understanding. “So, you’re defending them, huh?”

Suguru’s face flushed slightly, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not just about defending them. It’s just—”

Gojo looked up from his sandwich-making with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, but is your lover okay?”

Suguru froze, caught off guard. “They are not my lover, Gojo.” he snapped, defensively. “They are just—”

Gojo’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Oh? Then why’d you hit him? Seems like you’re more concerned than you’re letting on.”

Suguru glared at Gojo. “I’m not concerned, I just—”

“Uh–uhuh, keep talking.”

“I’m just some friend—acquaintance. Worried.” Suguru narrowed his eyes. “Seriously, Satoru. I don’t know what you’re going on about. If I'm in love with them, shoot me.”

Without missing a beat, Gojo grinned, “Bang.” He made a playful gun gesture with his hand and gave Suguru a wide grin. “Cupid’s bullets confirm!”

Suguru stared at him, dumbfounded. “Are you serious? This is not—”

Gojo laughed, clearly enjoying the confusion. “Just kidding, Suguru. You know I’m just messing with you.”

Suguru sighed heavily, his frustration giving way to a reluctant chuckle. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Gojo shrugged, still grinning. “Just having a bit of fun. But seriously, if you need to talk or if something’s going on, I’m here. Just don’t let things like this get you too worked up.”

Suguru nodded, a mix of relief and embarrassment on his face. “Thanks, Gojo. I guess I needed that.”

With a final, reassuring pat on Suguru’s shoulder, Gojo returned to his sandwich-making. He took a deep breath and went back outside. You were talking with Shoko when you noticed Suguru come back outside towards your way. You were about to speak when Suguru turned back to you. There was a softer, more earnest look in his eyes as he met your gaze.

He looked at you with a determination, his voice steady but kind. “Take your coat, doll.” he said, offering it to you. “We’re getting out of here.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his sudden decision but relieved by the prospect of escaping the party. Without protest, you slipped on your coat and followed him out into the cool night air. The contrast between the cold outside and the warmth of the party was a welcome change, the crisp air a refreshing balm against your senses.

As you walked to the parking lot, Suguru’s silence was a comforting presence. His demeanor was calm and purposeful, a stark contrast to the turbulence of the evening. He led you to his car, and you both got in, the engine’s hum a soothing sound against the backdrop of the night.

Soon enough, you found yourselves parked in the lot of a nearby fast-food chain. The neon lights of the restaurant flickered against the dark sky, casting an almost surreal glow over the scene. It felt like a world away from the party, a simple, unpretentious refuge.

Suguru ordered a handful of burgers and fries, his movements deliberate and focused. You followed suit, choosing your favorites with a sense of familiarity. As you both settled on the hood of the car, the comfort of the fast food and the tranquility of the night began to ease the tension.

You took a bite of your burger, the flavors surprisingly comforting. Despite the simplicity of the setting, there was something deeply satisfying about the moment. “This is the best date ever.” you said with a grin, the warmth of the food and Suguru’s presence making the night feel a little brighter.

Suguru looked at you, a bemused expression on his face. “We haven’t talked in half an hour.”

“That doesn’t matter,” you said, shaking your head. “It’s nice just being with you, even if this doesn’t seem like much.”

Suguru looked away, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “It’s not as bad as going bowling.”

You blinked, puzzled. “Bowling? I didn’t know you liked bowling.”

He shrugged, leaning back against the car. “I do. It’s something I enjoy, and being with you is kind of like that—enjoyable and relaxing, even if it’s not always fancy.”

You tilted your head, contemplating his words. Then, feeling bold, you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. Suguru’s eyes widened slightly, but he responded, kissing you back with a tenderness that melted away any remaining tension.

When you finally parted, you looked up at him, a soft smile on your lips. “Not too bad?”

Suguru’s gaze softened as he met your eyes, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “Not too bad.” he agreed, his voice warm.

You both shared a comfortable silence, the world outside the fast-food restaurant feeling a million miles away. As you finished your burgers and settled back into a peaceful quiet, you knew that despite everything, moments like these were what mattered most.

You and Suguru remained on the car hood, finishing off the last of your burgers. The night was crisp and clear, the occasional hum of passing cars providing a steady backdrop to your conversation.

“So, what’s your favorite part about bowling?” you asked, genuinely curious and trying to keep the mood light.

Suguru chuckled, a soft sound that warmed the chilly air. “It’s the combination of skill and luck, I guess. Plus, it’s fun to just throw the ball and watch it knock down the pins. It’s simple, but satisfying.”

You smiled, enjoying his enthusiasm. “Maybe we should go bowling sometime. It sounds like it could be a lot of fun.”

Suguru’s eyes twinkled as he looked at you. “I’d like that. I think you’d be pretty good at it. You’ve got a good arm from throwing those frisbees around at the park.”

You laughed, leaning into him. “You think so? I’ll hold you to that.”

Suguru wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. “It’s a promise.”

The warmth of his embrace was comforting, and you snuggled closer, resting your head on his shoulder. The night was quiet, and for a while, you just enjoyed the peacefulness of the moment.

Suguru glanced at you, his expression softening even further. “You know, despite everything that happened tonight, I’m really glad we ended up here. I like these moments with you. They remind me of why I care so much.”

You tilted your head up to look at him, your eyes reflecting the soft glow of the streetlights. “Me too, Suguru. It’s the simple things, like eating burgers and talking about bowling, that make me realize how much I enjoy being with you.”

Suguru gave a small, affectionate smile, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek. “Sometimes, it’s the simple things that mean the most.”

You sighed contentedly, feeling a deep sense of connection. “I guess that’s true. And, even though tonight didn’t go as planned, it ended up being pretty perfect in its own way.”

Suguru chuckled softly, his gaze fixed on you. “Yeah, it did.”

You both sat there for a while longer, sharing soft kisses and quiet laughter, savoring the simplicity of the moment. The night air was cool, but the warmth between you made it feel like the coziest place in the world.

Eventually, Suguru shifted slightly, pulling you closer as he gave you a tender kiss on the forehead. “Let’s head back. I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

You nodded, standing up and stretching as Suguru helped you off the car hood. “Sounds good. But we definitely need to plan that bowling trip soon.”

Suguru laughed, offering you his hand. “It’s a date.”

As you walked back to the car, hand in hand, the night seemed a little brighter, and the world a little warmer. The small, spontaneous moments were what made your time together truly special, and you both knew that, no matter what, you’d always find a way to cherish them.

427 notes · View notes

slut4evanpeters · 19 days ago

Text

WitchBitch

james patrick march x fem!witch!reader

song i recommend listening to: spellbound by siouxise and the banshees

warnings: slow burn smut, master kink, overstimulation, fingering, obsession, mind tricks, smut at the very end and im sorry it ends abruptly🙁

summary: you are a rival witch of cordelia and her coven. To play mind games with her, you deicide to hold queenie in the hotel under a spell.

word count: 7.2k

notes: i came up with this in the shower.... i kind of rushed the smut im so bad at writing smut im sorry guys.. AND im so sorry for all the build up💀 when i write i cannot stop.

MDNI 18+

At the center of this forgotten palace of despair stood James Patrick March, poised in his fine three-piece suit. His sharp jawline and slicked-back hair framed a face that had not known the passage of time in decades. His dark eyes flickered with excitement, a glint of amusement dancing within them as he surveyed his kingdom. He leaned against the desk stood in the lobby, inspecting the tarnished silver of his pocket watch. Time, after all, had little meaning here, and yet, for James, the ticking of the clock always held a promise of something. Usually chaos.

“Darling,” came a voice from the grand staircase behind him, silky and soft, yet edged with a power that made the air hum.

He turned, a wide grin spreading across his face as he beheld his wife descending the staircase with all the grace and presence of a queen. You moved with an ethereal elegance, your long black dress trailing behind you like a shadow. Lock of hair cascaded over your shoulders, framing a face that was both beautiful and formidable, eyes like obsidian and sharp as a blade. You were every bit the rival to the Supreme of the coven that now sought you out, yet you moved as though nothing and no one could ever challenge your dominance.

“My love,” James purred, straightening from the desk and walking toward you with a swagger that was both dangerous and playful. He reached for your hand, lifting it to his lips and kissing it reverently. His eyes never left yours, and the fire that burned in their depths was matched only by the one that coursed through your veins. “You grow more enchanting with each passing moment.”

You smiled, a slow, dangerous curve of your lips that sent a shiver of anticipation down his spine. “And you, my dearest James, ever the flatterer. But we both know you’re simply excited for the evening’s new guests.”

“Ah, yes,” James sighed dramatically, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “The witches. It’s been far too long since we’ve had such promising prey wander through our doors.” His eyes gleamed, and you could practically hear the wheels of his mind turning, already plotting the wicked games he would play with them.

You glanced toward the large, iron-bound doors of the hotel, sensing the approach of powerful magic. The coven was close now. Their magic thrummed in the air, sharp and clean, an affront to the ancient, dark energy that permeated the Cortez. They were intruding, bringing their light into a place where it had no business being.

“You do realize, my darling, that these witches are not mere mortals,” you said, your voice low and sultry, a warning laced within. “They’re Cordelia’s, and she is not one to be trifled with.”

James’s smile widened. “Oh, I do hope so.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head at his eagerness. Despite his boundless enthusiasm for torment and chaos, you found his charm irresistible. It was that very dark charisma that had drawn you to him so many years ago, when your paths had first crossed in the shadows of death and magic. While most saw him as a madman, a murderer, you saw the brilliance in his madness, the artistry in his destruction. He was your perfect match, and together, you had created a life within the Cortez. An empire of secrets, blood, and eternal devotion.

“Don’t let your games get out of hand,” you murmured, resting your hand lightly on his chest. “Not yet, at least. There’s much to be gained from this encounter, and I’d rather not have it end too quickly.”

His expression softened, his hand coming up to gently cup your face. “Of course, my love. For you, I shall practice…restraint.”

You arched a brow, knowing full well how long such promises lasted with him, but you trusted that his loyalty to you would hold. It always had. His devotion to you was absolute, just as yours was to him.

“I’ll handle Cordelia,” you continued. “She knows I’m here, she’ll come for me first. The others are less important. Let them wander, let them think they have the upper hand.”

James’s grin turned predatory. “And then, we shall give them a proper welcome.”

The two of you stood in the dim light of the lobby, a portrait of dark elegance and dangerous power, ready to face whatever came next. Together, you were unstoppable.

Cordelia Goode had always been cautious, but there was a grim determination in her eyes as she stood outside the Hotel Cortez, flanked by several members of her coven. The hotel loomed before them, an imposing structure of iron and stone, its windows like hollow eyes staring back at them. The air around the hotel felt wrong, thick with malevolent energy.

“I can feel Queenie,” Cordelia said, her voice quiet but resolute. “She’s trapped in there. But there’s something else. Something darker.”

“Is it her?” asked Zoe, glancing nervously at the building. The younger witch had heard the stories about the infamous rival of their coven, the witch who had once stood toe to toe with the previous Supreme, Fiona Goode, and lived to tell the tale. A witch whose power was said to rival even Cordelia’s.

“Yes,” Cordelia confirmed, her lips pressed into a thin line. “She’s here. And she’s the one who holds Queenie’s soul.”

The coven exchanged uneasy glances. They knew what this meant. This wasn’t just a rescue mission, this was a confrontation with a force as old and powerful as any they had faced.

“We go in together,” Cordelia said firmly, “and we do not engage unless absolutely necessary. Our goal is to find Queenie and get out. Understood?”

The witches nodded in agreement, though there was an undercurrent of fear beneath their bravado. None of them knew exactly what they would face inside the Cortez, but they trusted in their Supreme’s leadership.

As they pushed open the heavy doors of the hotel, they were immediately engulfed by its oppressive atmosphere. The air inside was thick, suffocating, and the very walls seemed to pulse with a dark energy. The witches instinctively huddled closer together, their magical senses heightened, every nerve on edge.

“Stay close,” Cordelia whispered, her eyes scanning the room for any sign of life or death.

They moved cautiously through the lobby, their footsteps echoing in the silence. There was no sign of anyone, no indication of the horrors that lurked within. Yet the magic here was unmistakable, a heavy blanket of darkness that threatened to smother them with every step.

And then, a voice rang out, smooth and elegant, laced with a dark amusement.

“Cordelia Goode, the Supreme herself. To what do we owe this unexpected pleasure?”

You stepped out from the shadows, your presence commanding the room in an instant. The witches stopped in their tracks, their eyes widening as they took in the sight of you dressed in black, your eyes glittering with power and amusement.

Cordelia’s expression hardened. “You know why we’re here.”

You smiled, a slow, predatory smile. “Yes, of course. The poor little witch, trapped in my hotel. You’ve come to retrieve her.”

Cordelia stepped forward, her voice unwavering. “Let Queenie go.”

You tilted your head slightly, considering her. “And why would I do that? She came here of her own accord, after all. It’s not my fault she couldn’t handle the…atmosphere.”

Behind you, James appeared, his expression one of gleeful anticipation. He was clearly enjoying the tension in the room, his eyes flitting between you and the witches like a predator sizing up its prey.

“Now, now, my love,” he said, his voice a dark purr. “Let’s not be too hasty. I think our guests have only just arrived.”

You remained still, your gaze never leaving Cordelia’s. The Supreme witch’s determination was palpable, but so was the unease rippling through her coven. You could feel the raw tension in the room, the fear of the unknown, of a place that fed on souls.

James stepped forward, his stride confident and languid, almost like a panther stalking its prey. He cast an amused glance toward the witches, his hands clasped behind his back as if he were about to address guests at a grand party.

“My dear ladies,” he said, his voice smooth as velvet, “you’ve wandered into my humble abode, and yet, you haven’t even introduced yourselves. Quite rude, wouldn’t you agree?”

You raised an eyebrow at Cordelia, your amusement matching James’s. “James does so love proper introductions.”

Cordelia’s lips pressed into a thin line, her patience clearly wearing thin. “Enough games,” she snapped. “We’re here for Queenie. We’re not leaving without her.”

“Ah, yes,” James said, his smile widening as he looked up toward the ceiling, as if recalling a fond memory. “The one who thought she could wield power here. A futile endeavor, really.”

“She belongs to my coven,” Cordelia said, her voice steady, though you could see the flicker of frustration in her eyes. “And I will not leave her here to suffer in this wretched place.”

James tilted his head, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Suffer? I don’t know if she’s suffering, dear, but she certainly isn’t going anywhere.”

You watched Cordelia closely. You could feel her power, her strength radiating from her in controlled waves. She was no fool. She knew what she was up against, and yet she had come. That kind of courage, or perhaps it was desperation, made her dangerous. But you had been waiting for this confrontation, this inevitable meeting between you and Cordelia, two witches on opposite sides of magic, each vying for control in their own way.

“You’re a fool if you think you can walk in here and demand anything,” you said, your voice calm but lethal. “This hotel is not a place for your kind. Magic here is twisted, corrupted. Your light will do nothing but feed the shadows.”

“I’m well aware of the darkness that lurks here,” Cordelia said, her eyes flicking from you to James, and then back to you. “But I won’t leave without her.”

A tense silence followed her words, and you felt the coven shift behind her, preparing themselves for whatever might come next. James’s smile was almost gleeful now, his eyes lighting up with the promise of chaos. He took a step closer to Cordelia, but before he could speak, you laid a hand on his arm, stopping him.

“Patience, my love,” you said softly, though your voice carried a warning. “There’s no need to rush.”

He looked down at you, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes, something only you ever saw. Devotion. In all his madness, his bloodlust, there was one constant: you. He would burn the world for you, but he would also restrain his hand at your command.

He nodded slightly, and you turned back to Cordelia. “I’ll make you a deal, Supreme.”

Cordelia’s eyes narrowed. “I’m listening.”

“Find Queenie, if you can,” you said, your voice smooth as silk. “If she truly wants to leave, I’ll allow it. But if she’s chosen to remain…well, that’s another matter entirely.”

Cordelia’s jaw clenched, but she nodded. “Agreed.”

You smiled faintly, knowing that she had no idea what she was truly agreeing to. “Good. I’ll even give you a head start. This hotel has many secrets, after all. You may find that time slips away from you faster than you realize.”

With a wave of your hand, the air in the lobby shifted, the dark energy of the hotel pulsing with newfound intensity. The witches tensed as the walls around them seemed to ripple, and the very atmosphere became heavier, more oppressive.

“Good luck,” you said, your voice low and laced with amusement. “You’ll need it.”

Cordelia gave you one last hard look before turning to her coven. “Stay together,” she ordered, her voice firm. “And don’t trust anything you see.”

The witches moved cautiously, their eyes darting around the room as they made their way deeper into the hotel. You watched them go, feeling the pulse of the hotel’s malevolent energy feeding off their fear, twisting the corridors ahead of them into a labyrinth of confusion and dread.

As the last witch disappeared from sight, James let out a soft chuckle. “Ah, they have no idea, do they?”

You turned to him, a wicked smile playing on your lips. “Not in the slightest.”

He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “Shall we watch them squirm, darling?”

You tilted your head, your eyes gleaming with dark delight. “Oh, yes. You know me so well.”

Cordelia led her coven through the dimly lit hallways of the Cortez, her senses on high alert. The walls seemed to close in around them, shifting and warping as they moved, but she kept her focus on the faint magical trace that lingered in the air. She could still feel Queenie’s presence, but it was faint, as though something—or someone—was deliberately obscuring her.

“This place is a nightmare,” Zoe muttered, glancing nervously at the flickering lights overhead.

“Stay close,” Cordelia said again, her voice steady. “This hotel plays tricks. It’s feeding off the darkness within it.”

“Do you really think she’ll let Queenie go?” Madison asked, her voice dripping with skepticism. “She didn’t exactly seem eager to bargain.”

Cordelia didn’t respond immediately. She knew the witch who ruled this hotel—knew her power, her cunning. The woman was dangerous, and whatever hold she had over the hotel made her nearly invincible here. But Cordelia couldn’t afford to show doubt. She had to believe that she could bring Queenie back, no matter the cost.

“She’s stalling,” Cordelia said finally. “But that doesn’t mean we won’t find her.”

The witches moved in silence for a while, the oppressive air of the hotel making it hard to think clearly. The corridors stretched endlessly before them, each one seeming to lead deeper into the maze-like structure. Cordelia could feel the hotel’s magic pushing against her, trying to disorient her, but she held firm. She had to.

After what felt like hours, they turned a corner and came face to face with a tall, dark door at the end of the hall. Cordelia felt the pull of magic behind it—strong, twisted magic that made her stomach turn.

“She’s in there,” Cordelia said, her heart pounding.

The witches exchanged uneasy glances, but they followed Cordelia as she approached the door. With a deep breath, she pushed it open.

Inside, the room was vast and dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of old wood and decay. And there, in the center of the room, sat Queenie.

She looked different, her eyes hollow, her skin clammy. She stared straight ahead, unmoving, as though she hadn’t noticed them enter.

“Queenie,” Cordelia whispered, stepping forward.

But as she approached, she felt the familiar pull of magic around her, a trap.

The door slammed shut behind them, and the lights flickered out.

In the darkness, you and James watched from the shadows, your smiles hidden but unmistakable.

Let the game begin.

The room plunged into darkness, and the oppressive weight of magic bore down on Cordelia and her coven. The air felt thick, suffocating, as if the very walls of the Hotel Cortez were alive, breathing and shifting around them. Cordelia’s heart pounded in her chest, but her voice remained steady.

“Stay calm,” she commanded, though she could sense the rising panic in the witches behind her.

“Queenie,” Cordelia called again, her voice carrying through the heavy shadows. She could still see Queenie, seated in the center of the room, her figure faintly illuminated by the dying embers of the flickering lights. Yet, the silence from her was unnerving—no movement, no response. Something was terribly wrong.

Madison, always quick to lash out when threatened, raised her hand, a burst of energy erupting from her fingertips to light up the space. The dim glow revealed the eerie stillness of the room, but as the energy crackled toward Queenie, it dissipated against an invisible barrier, fizzling out before it could even reach her.

“Damn it!” Madison hissed, frustration evident in her voice. “What the hell is going on?”

“It’s not her,” Zoe whispered, her voice shaking as her eyes darted around the room. “It’s a trap.”

Cordelia took a step closer, her hand outstretched toward Queenie. Her instincts screamed for her to pull back, but she had come too far to hesitate now. The closer she got, the more she could feel the distortion in the air, the unnatural magic wrapping around her friend. Something was holding Queenie in place, something ancient and powerful.

Just as her fingers brushed the edge of the barrier surrounding Queenie, the room shuddered violently. The lights flickered back to life, casting the room in a sickly, yellow glow. And then, with a low, menacing chuckle, the shadows shifted.

James Patrick March stepped out of the gloom, his eyes gleaming with predatory delight. He was the picture of calm elegance, his three-piece suit immaculate as always, but there was a madness in his grin that sent a shiver down Cordelia’s spine.

“My, my,” James said, his voice dripping with amusement. “You’ve made it so far, Supreme. I must say, I’m impressed.”

Cordelia didn’t flinch. Her eyes remained locked on James, her expression hardening. “Where is she?”

James raised an eyebrow, feigning confusion. “Who, darling? The witch trapped in her own mind? Or the one you call Queenie?”

“You know damn well what I mean,” Cordelia snapped. “Let her go.”

James’s smile widened, his gaze flicking between the witches. “But why would I do that? You see, Queenie has made herself quite…comfortable here. In fact, I daresay she rather enjoys her time in my humble hotel.”

From the shadows behind James, you emerged, your figure as graceful and commanding as ever. Dressed in your flowing black gown, you looked like a dark queen reigning over a twisted court. Your eyes glittered with dangerous amusement as you took your place beside your husband, your hand lightly resting on his arm.

“She’s ours now,” you said, your voice smooth as silk. “This hotel has a way of holding onto those who don’t belong. Your precious Queenie is no exception.”

Cordelia’s fingers twitched at her sides, but she held her ground, her gaze never leaving you. “Queenie doesn’t belong to anyone,” she said, her voice cold and firm. “I’ll bring her back, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

You smiled, a slow, knowing smile. “You still don’t understand, do you, Cordelia? This hotel… it has its own will. Once you step inside, it doesn’t matter how powerful you are. The Cortez decides who stays, and who leaves.”

“And Queenie,” James added, his eyes alight with dark pleasure, “has already made her choice.”

Cordelia took a step forward, her magic pulsing in the air around her. “You’re wrong. I can feel her. She’s trapped, but she’s fighting. I will free her.”

You and James exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between you. Then, with a slight nod from you, James stepped back, giving you the floor.

“Very well, Supreme,” you said, your tone mocking but laced with undeniable power. “If you believe you can free her, then try. But know this—once you start, there’s no turning back. The Cortez doesn’t like to be challenged, and neither do I.”

Cordelia squared her shoulders, her determination unwavering. She knew this was a battle not just against you and James, but against the very fabric of the hotel itself. But she wasn’t going to back down, not with Queenie’s life on the line.

She raised her hands, and a soft glow began to emanate from her fingertips. The air around her shimmered as she channeled her magic, directing it toward Queenie. The witches behind her tensed, readying themselves for whatever might come next.

But as soon as Cordelia’s magic made contact with the barrier surrounding Queenie, the room erupted into chaos.

The walls seemed to bend and twist, the floor beneath them rippling like water. The lights flickered violently, casting long, distorted shadows that seemed to move on their own. And then, the laughter started—low, menacing, echoing from every corner of the room.

James’s laughter.

Cordelia’s magic surged against the barrier, but it held strong, feeding off the dark energy of the hotel. Queenie remained frozen, her eyes wide and glassy, as if trapped in a nightmare she couldn’t escape.

“You can’t win,” you said, your voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. “This hotel is alive, and it’s hungry. It won’t let her go.”

Cordelia’s jaw clenched, but she didn’t stop. Her magic intensified, the glow around her hands brightening as she pushed harder against the barrier. Sweat beaded on her forehead, but she refused to relent.

“Zoe, Madison,” Cordelia barked, her voice strained. “Help me!”

The two witches immediately stepped forward, joining their magic with Cordelia’s. The air crackled with energy as the combined power of the three witches surged toward Queenie, pushing against the dark barrier that held her captive.

But for every inch they gained, the hotel fought back, its malevolent energy twisting and warping around them. The shadows writhed, the walls groaned, and the very air seemed to close in, choking them.

James watched, his grin never faltering. “Oh, how delightful,” he mused. “Such

determination, such power. But it’s all for nothing.”

You stood by his side, your arms crossed, watching with cool detachment. Part of you admired Cordelia’s strength, her refusal to give up even in the face of overwhelming odds. But you knew how this would end. The Cortez had claimed Queenie, just as it had claimed so many others before her.

Still, there was something intriguing about watching Cordelia fight, watching her defy the will of the hotel and push herself beyond her limits. You wondered, briefly, if perhaps there was more to her than you had given her credit for.

And then, with a deafening crack, the barrier around Queenie shattered.

The room fell silent.

Queenie slumped forward, gasping for breath, her body shaking as the dark magic released its hold on her. Cordelia rushed forward, catching her before she could collapse to the floor.

“You’re okay,” Cordelia whispered, her voice hoarse. “I’ve got you.”

For a moment, it seemed as though they had won.

But then, the floor beneath them began to tremble.

James’s laughter returned, louder, more manic than before. He clapped his hands together, delighted by the unfolding drama. “Oh, how marvelous! You broke the barrier! But I’m afraid it’s far from over.”

You stepped forward, your eyes locked on Cordelia. “You may have freed her from the trap,” you said, your voice soft but deadly, “but the Cortez is not so easily defied.”

The room around them began to warp once again, the walls bending and twisting as the hotel itself reacted to the break in its hold. The shadows grew darker, more oppressive, as the malevolent energy of the hotel surged to reclaim what it had lost.

“You’ve only made it angrier,” you continued, your gaze never leaving Cordelia’s. “And now, it will take everything from you.”

Cordelia’s heart raced, her grip on Queenie tightening as the room around them seemed to collapse in on itself. She had freed her friend, but at what cost?

The hotel was alive, and it was hungry.

And it wasn’t done with them yet.

The floor trembled violently beneath them, the Cortez reacting like a beast enraged. Cordelia’s breath caught in her throat as she held Queenie close, feeling the suffocating darkness around them. The hotel wasn’t merely a structure anymore—it was a force, something ancient, malevolent, and entirely beyond her control. It roared with fury as if the very act of defying its will had triggered a primal hunger that could not be quenched.

Queenie gasped for air, her eyes wide and terrified as she clung to Cordelia’s arm. “We… we have to get out of here,” she rasped, her voice hoarse from the ordeal.

Cordelia’s eyes darted around the room. The shadows were thickening, growing darker and denser, creeping along the walls like living tendrils. The witches could feel it too, the oppressive force pressing down on them, threatening to engulf them.

“We will,” Cordelia promised, though she wasn’t sure how. “Madison, Zoe, stay close.”

Madison’s usual bravado had vanished, her face pale as she looked at the twisting, warping shadows. “This place is alive,” she muttered, her voice barely audible. “And it wants us dead.”

“Queenie’s free,” Zoe added, but her voice was shaky. “We did it. We can get out.”

“You think this is over?” you said softly, your voice cutting through the rising tension like a blade. There was an eerie calmness in your tone, but the power behind it was unmistakable. You took a few steps forward, the dark fabric of your gown trailing across the floor like a wave of shadows. “The Cortez doesn’t just let go, Cordelia. You should know that by now.”

Cordelia met your gaze, her determination still burning, but she knew you were right. She could feel it—the hotel wasn’t done with them. It wouldn’t stop until it had claimed something. The darkness was closing in fast, and even the combined magic of the coven felt like a flickering candle in a storm.

James stepped forward as well, his smile never faltering. He relished the chaos, the fear, and the power that swirled around him. “You’ve broken one little spell, Supreme,” he said, tilting his head. “But now, the hotel is awake. And it’s hungry. You’ve only made things… more interesting.”

His voice dripped with excitement, as if he couldn’t wait to see how this would unfold. His dark eyes glittered with madness as he stepped closer to you, his arm casually slipping around your waist. There was something so grotesque yet elegant in the way he moved, like a spider closing in on a fly caught in its web.

You allowed him to pull you closer, your eyes still on Cordelia. “This hotel is more than just brick and mortar,” you continued, your voice low but commanding. “It’s a living entity, sustained by the souls it consumes. It’s bound to us now. James and I are its caretakers… and its rulers. You can’t fight that.”

Cordelia clenched her fists, her magic crackling in the air around her. “I’ll fight for her, for all of them,” she said, her voice unwavering despite the rising panic. “I’ve faced worse than you.”

But deep down, Cordelia knew you were right. The Cortez was a labyrinth, designed to disorient and ensnare those who wandered its halls. Every inch of it was saturated with dark magic, and even with all her power, she wasn’t sure if she could get them out. Not without losing someone.

“Zoe, Madison,” Cordelia said, her tone sharp, urgent. “We need to find a way out. Now.”

Madison glanced at the walls, which seemed to pulse and ripple like the surface of a black sea. “And how exactly do we do that?” she snapped, her usual snark barely concealing the fear in her voice. “The hotel’s turned into a nightmare.”

“It was always a nightmare,” you said, your lips curving into a knowing smile. “You just didn’t know it yet.”

Zoe tried to focus, reaching out with her magic to feel for a way out, a path that wasn’t sealed off by the hotel’s will. But every hallway, every exit, felt wrong, twisted. The hotel’s presence was everywhere, smothering and relentless. It was like trying to navigate through quicksand.

Cordelia’s mind raced. There had to be a way. She wasn’t about to let this place trap them forever. She glanced toward the faint light at the far end of the room, where the corridor led deeper into the hotel. It was risky, but it was the only option she could see. They had to move, and fast.

“Follow me,” she ordered, pulling Queenie to her feet.

But before they could take a step, the ground beneath them shifted violently, sending cracks spider-webbing across the floor. The walls groaned as if the hotel itself was coming to life, ready to swallow them whole.

James clapped his hands together, laughing with wild abandon. “Ah, darling, it’s glorious! The Cortez is truly showing its teeth tonight.”

You watched with a detached sort of amusement, but beneath it, there was a deeper understanding. The hotel’s power had always been great, but this was different. Cordelia’s defiance had stirred something ancient within the walls, something that even you and James could not fully control.

“I’d move quickly if I were you,” you said, your voice calm but edged with danger. “The Cortez has no patience for witches who think they can bend it to their will.”

Cordelia didn’t need to be told twice. She darted toward the hallway, her coven right behind her. The hotel groaned and shifted around them, the walls elongating and warping, but Cordelia kept her focus ahead, refusing to let the disorienting magic of the place deter her.

You and James watched as they fled, knowing full well the Cortez would not let them escape so easily. The hotel had a way of twisting time and space, trapping its victims in an endless loop of horror and madness.

“Do you think they’ll make it out?” James asked, his tone light, as if discussing the outcome of a dinner party.

You tilted your head, your eyes narrowing as you watched the witches disappear down the corridor. “Perhaps. But even if they do… they won’t leave unscathed.”

James chuckled, pulling you closer as he gazed into your eyes with that adoring madness only he could embody. “I do love when you’re right, my darling.”

You smiled, the dark energy of the hotel swirling around you. “And if they manage to survive, well, they’ll know that the Cortez leaves its mark on everyone who dares to challenge it.”

Cordelia and her coven ran, the hallway stretching impossibly long before them. The hotel was fighting them, twisting reality to keep them trapped. Every door they passed seemed to lead to another version of the same corridor, looping endlessly.

“We’re running in circles!” Madison shouted, her frustration spilling over.

“Keep moving,” Cordelia commanded, though she could feel the walls closing in, the magic warping around them.

Queenie stumbled, still weak from the spell that had held her, but Zoe caught her before she could fall. “We’re not leaving without you,” Zoe said firmly.

Cordelia tried to focus, tried to find a break in the hotel’s magic, a weak point they could use to escape. But the energy of the Cortez was overwhelming, seeping into her bones, clouding her mind. It was as if the hotel itself was alive, hunting them, savoring their fear.

But then, just when all seemed lost, Cordelia felt it—a faint flicker of light, a thread of energy that didn’t belong to the hotel. It was a small opening, a chance.

“There!” she shouted, pointing ahead.

The witches rushed forward, following Cordelia as she led them toward the faint glimmer of hope. The hotel groaned around them, resisting, but Cordelia pushed through, her magic flaring as she reached for the thread of energy. With a final burst of power, she tore open a rift in the fabric of the hotel’s magic.

A door appeared before them, glowing faintly with the light of the outside world.

“Go!” Cordelia ordered.

The witches didn’t hesitate. One by one, they stumbled through the door, back into the cold night air beyond the hotel’s cursed walls.

Cordelia was the last to pass through, her heart pounding in her chest as she cast one final glance back at the Cortez. The darkness inside seemed to ripple, as if the hotel was watching her, waiting.

As the heavy door of the Cortez sealed shut behind the fleeing witches, the hotel's energy hummed with satisfaction, like a predator content after a brief but thrilling hunt. The dark magic of the place settled back into its familiar rhythm-watchful, patient, knowing that no one ever really left the Cortez. Its halls would call them back, just as it had done countless times before.

You stood beside James, your gaze lingering on the door for a moment longer.

The witches had escaped for now, but their connection to the hotel remained, and that was enough. The thrill of the chase had rekindled something in you-a reminder of the power and control you wielded in this place, alongside James. It was intoxicating.

James, ever observant, noticed the shift in your demeanor. He turned toward you, his dark eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and admiration. "Ah, my darling," he purred, stepping closer to you.

"You were magnificent, as always. Watching you wield the hotel's magic like that, there's nothing quite as exquisite."

You arched an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "I could say the same for you, James. You do have a flair for theatrics." Your voice was laced with affection, though beneath it, there was something more, a simmering intensity that had been stirred by the night's events.

He chuckled softly, his hand finding the small of your back, pulling you into his embrace. His touch was familiar yet electric, a spark that always seemed to ignite whenever the two of you were close.

The twisted elegance of his presence, the madness in his eyes—it matched the darkness within you, and together, you were an unstoppable force. A perfect pair.

James leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke, his voice low and velvety. "The way you command this hotel, the way you ensnare those who dare challenge us... it makes me fall in love with you all over again."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you tilted your head slightly, allowing your lips to graze his neck. "Oh, James,' you whispered, your voice a soft purr. "You know as well as I do that this place, this power-it belongs to the both of us. We rule together, and thats what makes it so powerful. It belongs to both of us. We rule together, and that's what makes it so... intoxicating."

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. His gaze was dark, intense, filled with the same hunger you felt coursing through you. "Indeed, my love. We are bound, not just by this hotel, but by something far deeper." His hand moved to cup your face, his thumb tracing your cheek as if memorizing every detail.

"You're mine, and I am yours. Forever."

There was something possessive, almost primal, in the way he said it-like a vow that transcended time and death. And in that moment, you felt the full weight of your bond, the dark and beautiful connection that tied you and James together in ways that few could understand. It was a love forged in blood, in madness, in power. It was both your strength and your obsession.

Your breath hitched as his words hung in the air between you, thick with meaning. You could feel the pulse of the hotel around you, as if it, too, recognized the depth of what you shared. Slowly, you leaned in, closing the space between you, your lips brushing his in a kiss that was soft at first, but quickly deepened into something far more intense.

James responded eagerly, his hands tightening around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His lips were fervent, his kiss filled with the passion and madness that always simmered just beneath his polished surface.

The world around you seemed to blur, the only reality that mattered was the feel of his lips on yours, the way his hands roamed over your body with the same possessiveness that echoed in his words.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging gently as the kiss grew more fervent, more desperate. It was as though the two of you were trying to consume each other, to merge completely into one.

The intensity of your connection, your love, had always bordered on obsession, and tonight it felt even more heightened, charged by the dark energy of the hotel and the thrill of the night's events.

James broke the kiss just long enough to whisper against your lips, his voice ragged with desire. "You drive me mad, my love.

Every time I look at you, every time I touch you... I burn for you."

You smiled against his mouth, your own desire mirroring his. "Then burn, James. Burn with me."

With a low growl of pleasure, he captured your lips again, the kiss deeper, more demanding. His hands roamed over your body, his touch igniting every nerve. You could feel the heat between you building, the air around you crackling with the raw intensity of your shared desire.

James lifted you effortlessly, and with a graceful spin, pressed you back against the nearest wall, his body pinning yours as he kissed you with a fervor that bordered on desperation. His lips left yours only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, down your neck, his breath hot against your skin as

he whispered your name like a prayer.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, pulling him closer, urging him on as your own need consumed you.

The world outside-the witches, the Cortez, everything-faded away, leaving only two of you, bound together in this intoxicating dance of passion and power.

James's mouth found yours again, and this time, the kiss was slow, deliberate, a contrast to the frenzied energy of moments before. It was a kiss filled with promise, with the dark love that had sustained you both for so long. The Cortez was your kingdom, but this. This was your sanctuary.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, both of you were breathless, your bodies humming with the shared intensity of the moment. His hand gently cradled your face, his thumb brushing across your lips.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "For now, for always. You are my queen, my everything."

You looked into his eyes, seeing the depths of his devotion, the madness and love that mirrored your own. "And I love you, James," you murmured, your voice soft but filled with the same intensity.

"We are eternal, you and I. Bound by blood, by power, by love. Forever."

His lips curved into that familiar, wicked smile, the one that always sent a thrill through you. "Forever, my love," he echoed, before capturing your lips once more in a kiss that sealed the vow between you-two souls bound together in darkness, for all eternity.

And as the Cortez hummed softly around you, it, too, seemed to recognize the power of the bond you shared. You and James were the heart of this place, the rulers of its twisted halls.

Later that night.

The sound of skin connecting with moans and loud huffs of breath is lost in the air, leaving nothing but the feeling of your pleasure in its absence as James fucks himself into your cunt.

Each time his cock pressed into you, slick dribbled out of your chubby cunt, staining the once clean sheets. He failed to put a towel under you like he usually does, too desperate to get inside you to care about something as silly as dirtied bed sheets.

Your legs were spread wide on the bed, each ankle hanging over the side of the bed. You rested your head on the pillow underneath you, arms resting under the cool side of the fabric.

He has no mercy, almost ruthless in the way he fucks you. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s made you cum at this point, and what’s funny is he hasn’t even came once, leaving you in a puddle of pleasure that seems to never end even when you start crying.

James's back was arched harshly downwards, legs over yours, keeping them flush to the bed. His hips started to move faster, the once quiet sounds becoming loud and sloppy. Heavy balls slapped into your folds, making you moan out in needy pleasure.

A soft hand went down to your cunt, thumbing your lips apart to rub at your throbbing clit. His forefinger moved in quick, small circles, pressing against it hard.

"Oh, darling, yeah, just like that, clench your pussy just like that, clench that little cunt nice and tight around your masters cock." James groaned in your ear darkly, sucking a deep purple hickey into your hairline. "Always so fucking good for your master hm? Just Ravishing, aren't you, Dear?"

Your hips bucked hard into his hand, making his cock slip further inside of your sloppy pussy. "James-Ma-Master! B-Big, s-s-so so big! Fuck, fuck, it's so good James please!" Your cunt throbbed around him like it had its own heartbeat, slick sliding down from your hole onto the exposed part of James's cock. "Need-Need you to fuck me-!" Your voice broke off into a high-pitched whine when James started thrusting again, each thrust hitting that sweet spot deep inside of you.

James doesn't stop thrusting, even when you beg and moan to tell warn him that you're close. He wasn't going to stop until he had you shaking and crying out for mercy underneath him. His hands move from your shoulder blades to your waist, pulling them up to meet his hips. James started using you like a glorified fleshlight, hips meeting yours halfway every time he pushed back inside you harshly. Quiet grunts came from him, matching up with the slapping of his hips.

"Master, Master, Master, Master-! C-Can-Can't!"

"Aww, that's it, that's it, sweetheart. Cum all over your Master's cock. That's it, my good fucking girl." You clenched around him tightly, throbbing and pulsing as you gushed all over him. "That's it, there you go, cumming for your Master like a good little princess." James moaned in your ear, biting and tugging on it as you quivered. "What'ta slutty little girl, so needy for me."

The consistent clenching around his cock drove him to the edge, his face scrunching up when his orgasm finally hit him. Thick ropes of cum shot inside of you, forcing a sultry, drawn-out moan from your lips. He pushed his cock deep inside you, ensuring that all of his spunk stayed inside of you. "That's it, good girl, what'ta good girl. Keepin' all my cum nice'n warm for me." James pressed on your abdomen gently, smirking when a small amount of cum leaked out of your cunt.

"Aww, it's leaking out of you, Darling. Guess we're gonna have to go again to keep you filled."

#evan peters #evan peters x reader #evan peters x y/n #evan peters smut #james patrick march #james patrick march x reader #james patrick march x y/n #james patrick march smut #jpm x reader #jpm smut #ahs hotel #american horror story

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zeephyre · 6 months ago

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CRITICAL ROLE CAMPAIGN 3 EP 95 SPOILERS

jesus christ these nerds are going to kill me.

before i get into my think piece abt... everything that transpired at the end of this episode, i would like to say this is one of the best c3 episodes.... one of my favourite episodes of all time. idk idk.

essek? smut? astrid? poly bells hells allegations?? i was already fucking sold dawg. i cannot goddamn believe that this four hour episode was... mostly... a shopping episode. i cant wait for the new art, regardless of the batshitery that happened that kinda throws my vibes off. i digress.

oh ashton greymoore i love you so much. i have been so worried abt them but honestly they're probably the lat person im concerned for currently. the grief was so compelling to watch and taliesin is a master of roleplaying as minus charisma but genuinely charismatic in his dorky awkward gruff and fumbling way. his rizz is actually just blindsiding us with earnest acts of service and comfort for his friends and i think thats so neat. im happy that they're all going to aeor with fcg intertwined throughout their outfits. its poetic and also maddeningly sweet.

(love the little callowmoore moments sprinkled through this episode... they're so real to me)

pumat was fun and i am so damn glad they got all the items matt offered cause they were all so fucking cool.

also??? sugar daddy dorian storm??? yeah i see you gay boy. dorym is so real guys we need to prepare for a confession and soon. idk i get the vibe liam is gonna drop it in the most heartbreaking way. or robbie. they're both sick in the head tbh.

loved the little queer inn that essek dragged them to and the calm before the storm was genuinely the cutest shit ever and im glad they were having fun despite everything. we got the essek and ashton dunamancy scene that i have been begging for but i cant even talk abt that right now.

before i address orym and laudna...

delilah briarwood. im gonna fucking kill you. best believe that.

theres been so much discourse on twitter abt who was right or wrong or this or that, but ultimately the point is: neither of them is RIGHT. they're both stricken with trauma and grief, and motivated by the love they have for a) the ones orym has lost and b) the one laudna is fighting not to lose. laudna WAS worried abt orym before delilah twisted that into paranoia, and orym didnt wield that fuckass blade bc he DOESNT feel sick touching it.

he says its not abt revenge but... god. orym. you want revenge. call it whatever you like but you've been angry for a while.

laudna says she KNEW the sword was cursed, but she was lying or in denial abt the fact that delilah is the one who coerced her to hold the blade in her hand.

if either of them had decided to talk to each other or the group as a whole then this could have -- most likely -- been avoided. orym decided to take the blade and shoulder the burden of what it meant and what it represented so they didnt have. laudna felt betrayed and hurt but instead of trusting orym she was manipulated back into that cunt's clutches.

i dont prescribe to trauma olympics, especially when laudna and orym never actually denied each others' trauma with otohan and that blade so i think its slightly irrelevant when discussing them both.

(i will say this... otohans blade is what killed laudna but delilah is the one who had her in a cage when she was dead. otohan murdered oryms family and there was absolutely nothing that could save them. i firmly believe THAT is what chetney meant, not that laudna hasnt suffered so we can all just... unclench a little idk)

in all the discourse, lets not forget who the real villains are -- evil milfs (delilah and otohan). delilah chose this moment to sew distrust in laudna towards orym for a reason. its like the spider queen and opal. she NEEDS laudna isolated and dependent, and she cant sink her teeth in completely if laudna has someone to fall back on.

imodna... jesus imodna breaks me every time. that entire scene on the roof while laudna looks so much like her abuser -- the woman who MURDERED her -- and having that visage fade as laudna proclaims her love for imogen. peak romance and tragedy.

it was still so upsetting hearing the echoes of delilah as laudna spoke tho. knowing her hold on laudna is getting stronger and laudna has no real faith that she will be able to fight against her. hearing her ask imogen if shes still fun scary and knowing that imogen cant tell the truth. this isnt fun anymore. laudna is in danger and imogen doesnt know how to fix it.

"I'll always love you, Laudna. I just don't know what to do with it."

its uh its not looking good for our sapphics fellas.

anyway, i do think that ashton was the emotional mvp of this episode, especially while shit was escalating. putting themself between orym and laudna, PROTECTING laudna despite knowing she attacked him, TRUSTING that she was actually telling the truth and guiding her to see the forest for the trees and apologize for an irrational choice made through a mixture of trauma, delusion and paranoia.

im... excited? for the next episode? not sure why we keep having really horrible inter-party conflict the day before going on a suicide mission but the hells are my problem babies and i have to accept that they're just little fucked up guys.

god. is it thursday yet??

(AND WHERE THE HELL IS SAM)

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quitealotofsodapop · 11 days ago

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What could have been

@soniclozdplove

Yessss

Theres an ask im working on this variant of the Stone Matriarch au.

Basically after S5 messing with the dimensions; the Monkie Gang fall through a door to a world where... the Stone Monkeys were never wiped out by the Great Flood.

Instead, their allies; the lunar-born Lotus Eared Macaques (gee I wonder who they resemble? ;3) managed to use their powers to influence the tides enough to spare the island.

Sun Wukong is witnessing a life he could have had.

One where Flower Fruit Mountain is the captial of the thriving island nation of Alolai. One where the Stone Palace rivals imperial estates. One where monkey demons of all kinds live and play along each island of the archipelago.

One where a Queen sits upon the throne. At her side her mate and advisor. At either side of them is their sons.

One where there is no Sun Wukong. For he never needed to be named anything other than; Shihou, First Prince of Alolai.

A prince who is currently working off community service in the celestial realm stables due to an act of immature rebellion gone-wrong.

"First" Prince due to being the elder of two rowdy brothers. Second Prince Luzhen is a party animal who's bombastic charisma gives his elder brother space to breathe and take things slow.

Wukong is seeing a world where he never suffered alone. Never burned in the Furnace. Never had to become King.

And his heart aches for what could have been.

(Btw i love this art more than anything. And it gives a perfect intro to this au idea we discussed. I love the little details that the monkey parents share with their boys <3)

#submission #others art #stone matriarch au #sun wukong #lmk sun luzhen #lmk ocs #lmk aus #lmk #lego monkie kid

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overwatch · 1 year ago

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I played D&D yesterday at a board game store and I am still a bit shook from it. This isn't a D&D horror story but there's a few things I need to vent about.

- the DM who we did not know handed us character sheets. Apparently this had been agreed with the guy from my group who was arranging everything but he forgot to tell everyone?

- I never related more to a drag queen who gets the role on a ruchallenge they hate. I was forced to play a low charisma wizard whose whole thing was being religious. I did rly good and moved the plot along despite this horrible character, I killed it.

- Anyway straight men are animals they immediately go "IM ROGUE" "IM BARBARIAN". They don't even read the character description or backstory. Or ask me and the other girl in the group if we wanted to read the roles first??

- nobody was doing character voice 🫠 "he says x" "he asks why"-- I interrupted the other players to speak like the characters and they were just stuborn. Especially the straight men they barely used dialogue they only wanted to fight?

- one of the things I HATED the most was that I got a crystal (important plot device) and one of the straights says a) he wants to break it. I start *discussing* with the group that I don't think that's a good choice. B) suddenly the guy says "I take the crystal from her and save it on my things."

????

- me and the group and still discussing what to do with the crystal but the guy decides he takes it and doesn't need to roll or interact/ask me. He then triggers a boss to appear who wants the crystal.

- Before we can discuss as a group why we should give him the crystal the same guy throws the crustal at the guy??

- The DM who had obviously put some effort into describing the boss and voice for the boss just goes ok. I guess he leaves with the crystal then.

- the same guy says he wants to fight the boss. Not for the crystal. Just because he wants ti fight.

- I see the horror flash on the DMs eyes. This is obviously a very high level boss to fight later in the campaign. He even goes "are you sure..?" I save it by saying no obviously not. We already lost the crystal let's not get killed too. Dm says "good choice".

- playing in a boardgame store is horrible. There's so much noise. I have adhd and oh my god. Also dm said something rly serious to my character and I couldn't understand him and didn't wanna ask him to repeat himself bc he did character voice and it was a tense moment.

- straight men's characters kept trying to "go investigate on their own". Boy we just started the campaign??? Maybe idk we should stick together. One of them kept "I go way ahead of them" or "I go way in the back". Which triggered events without us being there yet. At some point the DM ignored the guy and just spoke like he was there with us too.

- I was the only one (aside from dm) actually roleplaying and doing voices.

- one of the guys was mad the dm didn't let him use his own figure on the map even though it was three times the size of the figures the dm had for us.

- I am 100% sure the men were angry I was the hero of the battle we had. (It was bush like creatures and I used burning hands... They were all upset at the dm when the attacks they used barely did anything. And I mean actually arguing.

Anyway I just to take this out of my chest. They also kept asking for feedback/compliments on WhatsApp and I was nice and said I rly liked meeting with them and the dm was way better than I had imaged. And the guy that stole my crystal without asking and almost ruined the game an off comment about me being "uncomfortable" because I didn't join them for dinner after (worded like an accusation)? 🫠 And didn't even say anything about me carrying the game and helping him with his fuck ups. But ok.

#txt #DnD #had to get it out.#i want to play with queer people sigh

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starl1tsky · 5 months ago

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ok so. boston gatsby musical. overall? i enjoyed it, had a great time watching it, etc.... HOWEVER. cons first then pros. and then stuff i had mixed feelings on.

a) they took gatsby's teeth out. he was wayyy too nice. also not charismatic enough. like i feel like a gatsby should suck the air out of a room bc you're too busy staring at him. like those gayass vampires from the vampire show. anyway he was dorky and like sweet and shit and im like that is NOT jay gatsby!!!! that is a musical theater mfa.

b) daisy was also a yass queen white feminist instead of like. the ideal that gatsby obsesses over which like ok, fleshing out female characters, wtver, but daisy SUCKS SO HARD like she killed that girl. did daisy buchanan successfully utilize girl power when she vehicular manslaughtered her husband's mistress. also they were leaning so hard into the class thing that it might've been better to like uh idk TALK ABOUT CLASS??? BC DAISY IS ALL ABOUT CLASS SHE IS LITERALLY THE REPRESENTATION OF THE UPPER CLASS?????

b part 2) they also changed it so that daisy actually totally did want to marry gatsby and her mom forced her to marry tom which imo removes a lot of nuance from the story like??? its not a fucking love story????!!! daisy was NOT about to marry gatsby when he was poor like. let's not try to make daisy something she isn't.

c) ok so they basically made it so gatsby was Native American and like pretending to be white and that in and of itself is NOT a con, i think that's an interesting way to deal with the whole new money/reinvention thing. HOWEVER it felt very shoehorned in bc it was literally only mentioned in the last song when gatsby's dad came to bury him. and then the finale was like #landback which is all well and good but again let's maybe try and have one cohesive theme (class tensions) before we try to add things into the final two songs. because that is not the place to add themes.

d) this isn't so much a con as a ???? but jordan??? what the fuck was she doing there. she like was an exposition drop for nick like twice and then she just stood there and had a verse in like two songs and made out with people. the actress was very hot so it was okay but like. what was she doingggggg.

e) i LOVE florence + the machine however. the music was GOOD, objectively speaking but i would have appreciated a little more variety. the tap number was great tho, 10/10. also loved the damage that you do, that was a good one. "what of love and what of god" felt like, a good florence + the machine song but a heavy handed musical theater song like. giving dust and ashes. great song, but jesus christ josh groban calm the fuck down.

PROS:

a) ok i know i said gatsby wasn't charismatic enough BUT. in the meyer wolfsheim number, he was tap dancing and it was INCREDIBLE. so what i think is that they just should have had him dance more, bc the actor was an INCREDIBLE dancer and that would've given him the gatsby charisma and magnetism. so that's a directing/staging issue not an actor issue. like as far as i remember he only properly danced in that one song.

b) i did appreciate how they fleshed out myrtle and her husband, it was very well done and added significantly to the class tension themes of the original novel

b part 2) HOLY SHIT SOLEA PFEIFFER THE WOMAN THAT YOU ARE. also the husband ATE. the two of them were really extraordinary, standout performances.

c) nick was very charming, they did fourth wall break/monologue type things and it worked quite well i thought. he had a great voice, would've loved it if they gave him more to do but...

d) i mentioned this before but GOOD LORD the meyer wolfsheim tap number was fantastic. best part of the whole show imo

e) honestly the tom was very good. like detestable and i wanted to punch him in his face the whole time but. he was quite good. and i said it before but the damage that you do ATE.

f) very sexy. lots of hot people dancing and making out with each other.

ok now things im unsure about.

a) look. nick carraway is a homosexual. you know this; i know this, however, i don't think he's aware enough to be like "yeah i'm fucking gay and in love with gatsby" like he is gay, he is in love with gatsby but like i do not think he knows that. he idolizes gatsby because he doesn't have the vocabulary or the self knowledge to know that he's in love with him. also babe if you know you're gay and you know you'r ein love with gatsby and gatsby is trying to get with you for his first song and a half, WHY ARE YOU HELPING HIM GET WITH THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE WHO HAPPENS TO BE YOUR COUSIN???? make it make sense. but yea i think making nick gay is the right choice and even having him make out with dudes is the right choice and yea maybe he even knows he's gay but i really don't think he knows he's in love with gatsby. and also nick didn't narrate quite enough and when he did he wasn't quite unreliable enough.

basically i just LOVe the great gatsby and while i did enjoy this musical i just didn't like it as much as the book. so i guess my expectations were too high. also i found it ironic and depressing that in a musical where the adapters added so much about modern politics and tried so hard to modernize the politics of the original novel, the ushers STILL managed to be racist to my mother. yay a.r.t!!!!!

#the great gatsby #great gatsby musical #gatsby: an american myth

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vitalphenomena · 3 months ago

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TIMELINE: CROWNS AND SHIT.

think the great meets house of the dragon. maybe it also blends other shows with dragons and the like, but as i historically have been opposed to dragons and corsets, this is majorly uncharted territory for me

adaptable to asoiaf muses, other high fantasy muses, as well as other more realistic period muses. like, 13-19th century im thinking.

HOUSE HAYES.

King Richard Hayes leads an extremely powerful kingdom, Coeus with advanced weaponry, military tactics, and there are rumors of magic and alchemy. revered almost as highly as richard are the mystics/scientists/doctors (erik, max, etc.) who are in charge of research, development, and medicine.

Princess Juniper Hayes is to inherit. gasp!

Lady Spirit and Lord Burns are twins born of nobility who've either received or inherited dangerous abilities through bullshit means i havent figured out yet.

Harris is a knight incredibly protective of the princess.

Lila is (get ready for this) the daughter of the husband of the brother of the Queen. she's just a girl

HOUSE GLASS.

kieran is out in the backwoods (to be formally named - i dont think im just gonna call it glass) somewhere doing weird shit with a small selection of followers. mostly women who've fled their natural communities and bloodlines for whatever reason. some of them were lured by kieran for their looks, abilities, and status. has his own religion. extremely untrustworthy, but also extremely powerful due to his charisma and resources.

his son, cullen, is set to inherit his father's title. cullen wants nothing to do with it and can rarely be found in the backwoods.

cain is his Right Hand.

maddie and fernanda are here.

HOUSE KNIGHT.

Idris Knight is another powerful king devoted to a subset of the dominant religion of the universe.

Princess Mackenzie, Princes Elijah and Shipley ( @plebcourt owns shipley) are doing Succession-type antics to see who will inherit the kingdom, for its betterment, consistency, or detriment.

JM is a servant and Cass is a royal advisor; they are secretly involved in the small council planning Mackenzie's insurrection

Rose is a peasant girl extremely into Idris's religion.

OTHERS.

i want Amelia to be a princess somewhere but idk what her deal is

pyotr and petra are here somewhere

fuckfest is also here somewhere

#OOC.#TIMELINE: CROWNS AND SHIT.#more details and names as i come up with them

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angstics · 1 year ago

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this post about lesbian divas rlly delighted me. it's fun to see this niche topic talked about and expanded on with lots of examples. soooo i compiled all the responses as of 21/09/23 10:30pm EST and put them in a spreadsheet. then ranked them by how much of a diva i consider them lol

first off, the general list. i found 152 unique responses in the replies, tags, and comments. some were only first names so i didnt bother researching into who the poster was talking about. images for ease of viewing:

second... what is a diva?? clarifying where im coming from is important to understand my upcoming opinions. i should make clear that im talking about DIVAS as in DIVA WORSHIP as in LIZA MINNELLI-BARBRA STREISAND-BETTE DAVIS-LADY GAGA etcetera. dykes can see these female celebs as divas as well, but what the original post touches on is the male diva.

this rthko ask explains the diva well. you should also take a look at scholarly articles and books -- divas have been a part of recorded gay culture and esp gay male culture and drag queen culture forever -- the term isnt concrete. rthko says that "there's no real formula" but lists these typical features of a diva:

larger than life -- glam, humor, charisma? would a drag queen impersonate them?

theatrical / proximity to theatre

sexy / horny -- rthko notes here that these arent requirements, citing liza's lack of sexual overtness

strength

niche -- can be popular but not a general crowd-pleaser

gay rights supporter -- before it was cool

now rthko is talking about female divas, even noting the blind spot for bi/lesbian fans and artists. i say you can apply the same features to male celebrities to identify the male divas dykes idolize. i should note that some of the ppl on the list are women or genderqueer. so the list is not entirely male.

another note: im putting so much emphasis on DIVAHOOD because it's SUCH a specific term. not all icons, "weird little guys", "blorbos" are divas. one thing rthko doesn't touch on is how a diva often has a strong sense of self that the devotee can identify and want to emulate -- at the xtreme, leads to drag art. if they dont inspire and amaze, then are they a diva?

lets get into part 3: which of these 152 people / concepts / groups are honest to god divas? you can argue they're all Icons to some extent (the bare minimum being having a lesbian fanbase) but do they have what rthko and i (and gay culture researchers) consider to be the features of a diva?

first thing i did identify those i both recognized and "saw divahood within". ended up with 44:

then i shrunk down the list even further to 18 (again, pure opinion):

then i ranked the 44 more methodically by mapping out the 7 features of the diva:

several important notes:

this ranking is not definite -- though i tried to be fair, considering the limits to what i know, it is subjective

i dont know the histories of some of these people, so i may be missing some things. an inverse example: i know far too much about gerard way, so i had a good idea of how he fit into each feature

some of these i couldnt decide whether i should check or not. al pacino i was esp worried about... couldnt justify checking those boxes the way i can for other people

either way, my findings yielded interesting results! 3 of the most commonly talked about singer-songwriters (bruce, bob, johnny) ranked low. this may indicate that there's other features to the male diva that arent specified or dont apply to females divas / gay male devotees. perhaps defined gender expression, or “voice for lesbians”, or something else.

all of the people with a score of 4 or more can be emulated. "sex" (meaning overt sexuality) is the least common feature, after "theatrical".

though anyone can be a diva to anyone, there's a certain "canon" of who is a diva in gay circles. liza barbra bette gaga. this messy qualitative approach is an attempt to figure that out for dyke divas. i would love to talk about it more.

#there are some misspellings. like 'patterson' 😭#to be negative for a second #some of yer choices arent even LESBIAN ICONS much less DIVAS.#qessay #diva tag

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simpingland · 2 years ago

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Taste of Wine and Smell of Lavender // Aemond Targaryen x OC!fem!Dayne

At that very intense dinner with the "Velaryon" boys, Ashara Dayne, betrothed with Prince Aemond wants to know why is he so stuck in the past. Meanwhile, Aemond is surprised by her true character and charisma.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

She ran around the halls with a fast pace, she knew that she was being excessively late tonight. And Alicent was going to be pissed at her. And she was right, when the doors opened again just for her to enter, the first eyes she caught were the Queen's. Even the poor King was already there. Nobody stood to greet her, and the "Velaryon" boys looked at her with a hidden grin. The Targaryen girls looked at her with a raised eyebrows. The princess Rhaenyra side eyed her, as she was previously talking with her husband. Aegon did laugh, and Helaena gave her a sweet smile, happy to see her there. She couldn't look at Aemond, too ashamed of herself.

"Sorry im late, your majesties..." she apologised. "I'd lost track of time, and I didn't know the room the dinner was being held."

"It's alright, dear, take a seat." Spoke the King with a kind tone.

It was not alright, she knew that. This was a special occasion and she just acted like a stupid child, when she was a grown woman, about to get married and a part of the royal house in Westeros. Anyway, she better take her seat, besides his future husband, Aemond.

He didn't look at her, but she did, trying to smile at him. He looked colder that usual, and she understood the reason when she looked at the person in front of her. Lucerys Velaryon was enjoying his dinner at the other side of the table. The boy was handsome, and at the soft lights of the candles and surrounded by his family, remembering that he was the one cutting out Aemond's eye with a knife was hard to believe. She wasn't there when it happened, but Helaena told her all about that night.

Aemond had fault in those events, in her opinion. Not only he took Vaghar, but he was very close to killing Jace, his own nephew. Helaena told her as well about the bullying. But for the gods...every kid carries a pain, that is not excuse for being cruel. She fears for her future marriage, but it was an important political move, her mother and Alicent reminded her about it every day.

"Lady Ashara" called Rhaena, the sweeter twin, apparently. "Have you been to Skyfall lately?"

"Yes, I have, princess. My brother just fathered his first kid...a boy" she told her. How much she missed her hometown. His brother, now the Lord of Skyfall, was the head of the house of Dayne. It was extremely hard to say goodbye this second time she left to come back to King's Landing. She told him about Aemond's ignorance towards her. But her mother, a Lannister woman, told her to stop her weeping and get on the carriage again.

"How sweet, to be an aunt." Said Rhaena. And started a conversation with Rhaenyra.

Ashara swallowed a bit of her wine, and she almost choke at the terrible taste of it. It was not of her likening, thank the Seven, no one noticed. She left the cup on the table and pushed it away from her, not realising that Aemond caught her, and smoothly, he took the cup, giving her his. When she looked at him confused he was already drinking from it. Aemond's cup had another drink, another smell. When she tried, she identified the drink. White whine, uncommon in the Red Keep, very common in Skyfall. She smiled down at her cup and thanked Aemond, pulling her hand in his hand, but he pulled away.

She was not aware of Aegon's insults towards Jace, so when he stood up, she jumped on her sit. And she was scared again when Aemond stood up as well. The boy gave a sweet toast wishing his uncles for the best, but he was clearly annoyed. Ashara couldn't hid it, it made her smirk, and she left out a little snort when Aegon said a soft and humilliating "to you as well". Aemond did look at her then, and she started to look at her own cup as if the wine just started talking. When Aemond sat again, she was saved by Helaena, who stood up to toast too.

"I would like to toast to Baena, Rhaena and Ashara. They'll be married soon..." oh, gods, this was becoming depressing. The smirk fade completely in Ashara's face. "It isn't so bad.. mostly he just ignores you" well, she already knew that feeling. "Except sometimes when he's drunk."

Daemon laughed, and Otto gave her an approval word. But Ashara found that part absolutely devastating. Poor sweet Helaena, married to that prince. Everybody knew about yesterday's rape of that young servant girl. The only hope left for Ashara was Aemond's dignity, something that always separated him from his brother. The Dayne girl's face dropped again and Aemond saw it. Many nights he had seen her leave her food on the plate. She grew quiet on his presence, but with Helaena or the ladies at court he could see her giggleling and talking none stop. But he didn't know how to comfort her, he was not a romantic man, he was a protective one. If only that could be enough. He also got stressed at her, she was always late at everything, spoke way too laud for his likening, was a gossip of great talent, and a terrible horse rider.

Something stroke both brothers when Jace took Helaena for a dance. Ashara found it sweet, but she understood that for them it was some type of dare. She looked at Aemond, who looked at her back for a while and she gave him a smile. Like the ones she had given him for the past three months, the months she had been there.. He didn't return it, because he could sense in her a feeling of disconfort. But he did have trouble looking away from her. That night she looked prettier that usual and he understood why she was late. She also smelled incredibly well, the instant in which she sat beside him, the feeling of hipocrasy in the room left for a bit. He watched her enjoy the wine, she was for sure missing Helaena by her side, and Aemond thought of her as the sweetest sight of the room. The King was carried away from the room, and only Rhaenyra and Daemon stood up. When a pig was brought to the table, Aemond and Ashara heard a little giggle. And they found Luke smirking. She couldn't remember the joke of it, but she knew Aemond was getting tense, and that Luke was a bit of a deadass for such a dumb movement.

Aemond punched the table and Ashara had her second heart attack that night. He brought the cup up, the music stopping at the second.

She was puzzled by his speech, but she did caught the fact the he had insinuated that the boys were bastards of the deceased Harwin Strong. Helaena told her about that as well. Jace got it at the instant and the fighting started. Ashara watched as Aemond received a punch, and he smiled while she panicked. She stared at the fight getting as far away from the table as possible. Helaena was the one pushing her aside until Daemon broke the fight. Aemond walked out of the room, leaving everyone behind, and Ashara left soon after.

She wanted to reach him, to ask him why he had chose violence over a silly boy laughing at him. The House Targaryen was falling a part and he decided to ruin the chance of fixing things. She decided to follow him. It was late and the halls were in complete silence, so she tracked his footsteps without problem. He was heading to the yard, the gods knew why.

"Prince Aemond" she called once she got closer, he walked still.

"It's late, my lady. You should go back to your quarters" he commanded.

"I'm not tired." She refused. Ashara had to run a bit to finally put herself beside him. "I really wish to know what happened there."

"Well, didn't you see? I toasted for my ungrateful nephews and they didn't enjoy it"

"That I saw and that you know. I'm not stupid."

"I didn't say you were, I just thought you were late to the events, as you are well used to."

"Please, stop it."

"What do you want" he finally stopped on his track, pulling himself over her, towering her to make her regret her insolence. She did not, but she did blushed.

"The truth..." she tried to raise her voice but it was harder than she thought. "Something there has triggered you to the point of ruining the last chance of this family to make amends."

"You speak as if you were part of this family, as if you had been here all this time." He gave her his back, walking slowly towards the training section of the yard. Only a few torches left to illuminate the place.

"I do know things...I haven't waste my time here all this months." She kept following him, but a bit further than before. "I will be part of it soon, as well..."

"Well then, you go and found out, my lady. There's no need for me to be the one informing you. So...fuck off, my lady."

"The fuck I'm going!" She screamed. She left Aemond turning around, surprised by the sudden outburst of the lady. "I'm tired of rumors about you...My body, my loyalty, my entire life has been handed to you. The least you could do is tell me why did you make such a comment. It's fucking treason, Aemond."

He wished to be alone in the yard and do a bit of fencing before going to bed, leaving his anger out of the bed. But with this little bitch throwing facts at his face it was impossible to do that. He could threaten her, but there where already two miserable woman in his family, and he hated the men that hurt them, Aemond's biggest honor was to find himself different to them.

"The pink thread..." he spoke softly. "Aegon, Jace and Luke gave me a pig when I was a dragonless kid"

"I heard Luke laugh, but I still don't understand why" she felt brave enough to get closer to him.

"They put a fucking pig in front of us. And that fucking little bastard started laughing" he explained. She was starting to understand where he was going. "He ripped my eye, with no consequence at all and up until this day he has the nerve to laugh at me."

"My prince, Prince Lucerys is a stupid teenage boy. Everybody knows he's a bastard, you can not take offense of such a... moron." Aemond smiled at such a mean insult.

"But that moron is the fucking heir of Driftmark. He's going to be married to a true Velaryon girl, and two fucking eyes"

Ashara didn't know what to say. The stories she was told made her disagree with Aemond. He did wrongs and this was immature. If only she could make him reason...but sadly, Aemond did not had her as a priority, so her opinion was nothing to him but a bother.

He watched her struggle. "What are you plotting now?" He asked. He had seen that face, the one she put every time she couldn't speak her mind during dinners. It was the face she put when Aegon said the most disgusting story of the day. Or when Helaena was out of her reach for gossiping at feasts.

"Can I speak my mind? Truthfully?" He nodded. "You are wasting to much time and spirit at pitying yourself, my prince."

"Pitiying?" His tone was an angry one and she became nervous but kept on talking.

"You are older, bigger, smarter and way more powerful that those boys. He took your eye because you were about to fucking kill his brother. If Helaena is right, that night at Driftmark you claimed a dragon with no protection and you made Jace, Luke, Baela and Rhaena bite the dust of the floor unarmed. You are the rider of Vhagar, a dragon of the fucking Conquest. The dragon rode by Visenya, the best Targaryen fighter in it's history. It must be a tragedy to lose an eye of the face being a boy. I was burying my dear father on the ground when I was a girl, and I would give both eyes just to speak with him again. If you think you are missing something for the eye you lost just open the other one fucking left."

She pulled away from him, fearing his reaction, but he did nothing but nod. She decided to continue, feeling as if she just scolded too much. "You think of me whatever you wish, but what you do concerns me, my prince. If I have to give you a family I have to protect it as well. And tl9ur family is in the future, not in the past. Is not in Driftmark, nor in the other side of the table giggleling. Your family is what is important and your family is me and I'm in front of you. I know you see me. Stop looking away. Please."

She swallowed. Worrying about his reaction she looked at the floor. Silence invaded the yard.

"I ignored the Daynes were so bold..." he finally said.

"They are when they have a sword in their hands."

"But you have no sword."

"It might be the half Lannister in me, my prince."

"Right, I forgot..." he got closer to her. "I have payed way too little attention to you. I knew you speak way too much, but I never thought I would enjoy that."

"I'll take that as a courtesy" she blurted.

"But you don't know, not really. You don't know how it feels the need to cover half of your face to hide the disgusting wound made by a little bastard. What you know is that you are going to spend the rest of your life with such a dishonour beside you."

"What dishonor, my prince? I will never be ashamed of something which I'm not guilty" she corrected him, again, she put her hand over his arm, this time he didn't pushed her away.

"If I showed you my eye you would walk away in fear."

"Do it, I might go fuck off, just like you wanted."

He took of the patch, showing her the stone buried in his eye, or the hole where his real eye was missing. She smiled at him, and he frowned.

"It's a very pretty stone, my prince... it shines beautifully with this little light."

"Are you pitying me, Ashara?"

"No...in fact I'm kind of scared of you." She admitted, making Aemond smirk.

"Don't be. I didn't know you were such a sharp tongue girl...kept laughing at Aegon at dinners and I might end up loving you." This made her laugh, and she promised to do that. She did look pretty at the light of the torches as well, but he preferred her with the sun above her, her features illuminated and her smile fully displayed. "Do you know something about fencing, my lady?"

"I forgot the little I had practice as a kid."

"Want to learn?"

"I don't really like Ser Criston much, I'm afraid." This made Aemond laugh because she spoke in a tone of complete honesty.

"Then I'll have to teach you."

"Alright...don't know if Queen Alicent will approve." She half joked.

"I won't tell her. We will met here late at night, so no one see it."

"That's a very nice offer after everything I have said to you... I feel like there's a trick."

"You think that because you are half Lannister. But there is a condition."

"I was right then." She smiled. Aemond put both of her hands around his shoulders, and he put his hands around her hips.

"In exchange..." He whispered in her ear. "I want a taste of your lips."

She moved one of her hands to touch his face, softly, feeling the beard growing a bit in his chin, invisible to the eyes, and she caressed the eyebrow from his missing eye. She kissed the temple from the missing eye's side and when Aemond felt her breath reaching his lips he moved to caught her our of eagerness, but she smoothly moved away and smiled at him. Finally, she connected her lips to his. It was slow, wet and warm, with a mix of red and white wine.

His family was right there, under the moonlight, kissing his brushed cheek, the patch on the floor and her hands on his neck. She smelled of sweet lavender.

#game of thrones fanfiction #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon x oc #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x oc #house of the dragon imagines #aemond targaryen x reader #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell #aemond one eye #aemond fic #aemond targaryen reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #prince aemond #aemond fanfiction #house of the dragon aemond #aemond the kinslayer

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