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howdoesagrapewrites · 1 year ago

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𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐰𝐬

Plot: Imagine being the legitimized bastard of Daemon Targaryen, and having a very devoted family.

Cw: fem!reader, cisgender female reader (I'm sorry mascs and nbs, I'll make something for you later) incest/targcest implied for later, platonic and romantic yanderes, yandere EVERYONE x reader, here's a list of every character that will be featured (not all of them are romantic):Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen, Rhea Royce, Alicent Hightower, Otto Hightower, Viserys I Targaryen, Aegon II Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen, Haelena Targaryen, Daeron Targaryen, Lucerys Velaryon, Jacaerys Velaryon, Laena Velaryon, Laenor Velaryon

Notes: I go by a very strange mix of the series and the books, I haven't seen the series in a while so the timeline will most likely be a mess. I'd like this to be a series but I've been incredibly busy. Extra: at first I thought about making reader Mysaria's daughter, but this is a self insert, so it's best that you look however you like, leaving the mother anonymous. The only physical reference I'll make will be reader's silver hair

>After Rhaenyra was declared the heir of the iron throne, Daemon, insulted, flew away with his mistress, the white worm, who he would conceive a child with, even asking for a dragon egg for the prince or princess to come

>However, Viserys demanded him to go back to his home and wife, he sent Mysaria off to lys, where the stress of a storm in the trip back made her lose the baby

>Daemon never fully forgave his brother, and this left him less than eager to have another child anytime soon

>So imagine his surprise, when 7 years later, there's a rumour spreading in flea bottom like wildfire, about a girl carrying Daemon's bastard

>Many women had claimed to carry a royal child before, thinking this could give them any sort of prize, so Daemon didn't think much of it at first, but when he heard her name, he recognized her as one of his previous "favorites" who disappeared without a trace months ago

>She was said to have taken residence in Essos, and Daemon went on dragonback to find her. She was from the free cities, five years older than Daemon, and a heart as cold as a northern winter, or so they said. She was not expecting Daemon, running away to have the child in peace

>"They said I was too far along when I found out, moon tea would've only harmed me. Besides, it was lucrative in its own way" said the woman. Daemon did little to suppress the disgust on his face when thinking about her being defiled by other men while carrying his dragonseed babe

>She wanted no part in the baby's life, and Daemon, in his particular fashion, informed her he'd take the youngling as soon as it's out of her, may even pay her a few coins to make sure she won't do much as think about keeping it

>A few months passed, and he returned to king's landing with a babe in arms. Demanding an egg in honor of the birth of princess Y/N Targaryen

>This egg would later hatch into the dragon Dagahrion, the princess' bound dragon

>The court was a hot mess, according to Otto, he wouldn't be surprised if the young creature lost its left ear because of all the gossip and ill-speaking of her, just like her father. This was a scandal, considering he was still married to Rhea Royce, who he gravely dishonored time and time again, Daemon was always shameless, but this was crossing a limit, even for him, to call his bastard a princess while refusing to lay with his own rightful wife, disgraceful

>Daemon tried to use you as yet another attempt to get his brother to annul his marriage to "the bronze bitch", but even when he failed, he did everything in his power to legitimize his daughter

>Despite everyone on the council telling Viserys how foolish it'd be to do it, making enemies out of the Royce house, further insulting Rhea, and putting a whoreborn on the line of succession (no matter how far from the throne), all it took was a little yawn and the bright twinkle of your eyes to make him melt, he is fully committed to his role of uncle, even as a doting grandfather, considering his father passed long before her birth

>Viserys sent Daemon back to the Vale, saying he should do his best to give lady Rhea an heir, to make up for the slip and avoid causing the Targaryen house any more trouble. Viserys, for totally not selfish reasons wanted to keep the princess in KL, saying Rhea should not be made to raise his bastard

>Daemon said he'd rather be exiled again than to leave his daughter in Hightower hands to go try to fuck his wife. Viserys was greatly offended by the implication that the Hightowers truly ruled and schemed while he reigned

>To his outmost displeasure, he finally had to let his niece go to the Vale with her father

>Rhea loved you as soon as she set eyes on you, completely separating you from your father's actions, and seeing you as a pure angel in this horrible situation

>But it was so difficult with Daemon around, she just wanted to whisk you away and love you, she'd pray to the mother to be able to breastfeed you, crying when she heard you wail in frustration of your hunger, since it took several wet nurses to get you to drink milk

>But Daemon was always around to remind her you were not hers, that he considered her lowly, not worthy of you. He'd correct you when you learning to speak, and dared to refer to her as "mama"

>It was said the ground of the vale would shake upon them yelling when fighting over you

>But this joy to Rhea was short lived, as Daemon sent you to KL when he had to fight in the war of the stepstones, saying the "nest of vipers" was more deserving of you than she was. When you were three, your step mother had an accident while hawking, many said Daemon orderded for her to be poisoned when she was bed bound, others said the distress of your parting made her lose skill

>It was Viserys greatest pleasure when you were left at his care, his adorable baby niece was now an infant, and somehow you were even more charming, being able to speak, sing and walk

>To no one's surprise, Viserys' reaction was not generalized, with many not being keen on having a bastard running around the castle playing with the princes, by that point, Aegon was 8, Haelena was 7, Aemond was 5, and Daeron was 1, and almost all of them could see people treated you differently

>Rhaenyra was welcoming, baby Lucerys had just been born, and she was delighted to have a girl to spoil, it only helped that Jacaerys loved you as well, and would often fight his uncles for the chance to be with you

>Alicent in particular was not pleased with your presence, thinking you were an uncomfortable conversation to have with her children, especially resentful of the fact her youngest son would be attached at the hip with you

>To Otto, you were an annoyance, a living proof of Daemon's pure disregard for the norms, however, he could rest at night knowing you were ninth in the line of succession, and a girl, who would someday marry a son of a minor house and be too busy bearing children to present a claim to the iron throne

>Even though the Hightowers were tougher than the king, they did eventually succumb to your spell, and became just as enamoured with you as everyone else, in their minds, you were almost a product of spontaneous generation, completely ignoring your shameful father and prostitute mother

>Your arrival also caused the birth of Lucerys (who was again, born with a striking resemblance of Harwin Strong, just like his older brother) to be less gossiped about, after all, your case was much more interesting

>Some people in court starting referring to you as "The princess of flea bottom", this title costed quite a few tongues around the castle, ordered by Viserys, happily approved by Otto

>The Hightower hand was careful not to show too much affection to you, as it was improper and he knew how zealous was Viserys when it came to you

>Aegon was "already too old to be playing" in his words, and kept his distance from you, you reminded him to much of his sticky handed little brothers

>But as if you knew, you chased him around and praised him for his knightly demeanor (in your eyes) and how he's just like the heroes in Viserys' stories. It was not a long time before Aegon now appointed himself as your guard, watching like a hawk over his brothers and nephews when he thought they were being too rough on you

>Haelena loves you from the start, sees you as a little doll, she loves showing you her bugs, you're the only one who listens to her attentively

>Jacaerys and Daeron are only a year old, but always search for you, you think they're cute, something that spikes jealousy on Aemond, he wants you to think of him as someone worthy of admiration, like you see his older brother, he'd even accept being cute in your eyes, but he has none of those traits to appeal to you. You love him and love playing with him nonetheless, but he thinks he needs something else to win your favor

>The Velaryons dote on you too, with Laenor married to Rhaenyra and once your father marries Laena that same year, they are maybe too eager to become part of your family, and regard you as theirs

>Especially Laena, who Daemon allows (unlike with Rhea) to pamper and care for you, but still corrects you when it comes to remembering your origins, Laena may love you, but she's not your mother

>Maybe Daemon does this as a way to imagine you're only his, he doesn't care for the woman who abandoned such a precious treasure, she has been wiped away from your life and memory, you're only familiar with your father, you only belong to him

>You have his silver hair, you have his name, no matter who your mother was, you are his true valyrian heir, his dragonseed

>Unfortunately, Daemon is not the only one whose eyes light up when thinking of owning you

#yandere hotd #yandere targaryens #yandere aemond targaryen #yandere daemon targaryen #yandere rhaenyra targaryen #yandere Jacaerys Velaryon #yandere aegon targaryen #Yandere Aegon II #aegon ii x reader #yandere Haelena Targaryen #jacaerys velaryon x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd x reader

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love-byers · 25 days ago

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sus music editing in s4 byler scenes (a saga)

since tiktok might die in the US soon, i wanted to convert some of my old tiktoks into tumblr posts so they can live on forever! i've been wanting to do this for a while but never got around to it. i'm starting with this one because ive been posting about music coding a lot lately. i recommend watching the video attachment (at the end of the post) after reading the whole post, just so you'll have context when watching.

ALRIGHT!

will and mike are interrupted in the majority of their solo scenes. the scene in jonathan's room, the scene in will's room, the scene on the car, & the scene in the cabin. i noticed a long time ago that the songs used in the first 3 scenes listed build up for the first half and then kind of explode for the second half. there's a point where the song changes/released after the buildup.

the songs are:

eight fifteen (jonathan's room)

on the bus (will's room)

letter to willy (talk on the car)

BUT, in will's room & the car scene, mike and will are interrupted almost right before the song is supposed to climax. i lined the songs up and listened and i'm right. interestingly, in the scene in will's room, on the bus is edited. in the scene, the song starts like normal at the start of the song. but they cut the middle out so it would skip right to the part RIGHT before the climax of on the bus. THEY DID THAT. so at the very end of the scene just before they get interrupted, the song is teetering on the edge of the big explosive part of the song, but it doesn't happen because they're interrupted and the song ends. in the car scene letter to willy is also edited. maybe im wrong, but there's a note i hear in the car scene that i cannot find anywhere in the song. so it seems like they're purposefully using songs that are building to something but cut off right before the pay off of the buildup. i wouldn't be capitalizing on this so much if 90% of the scenes this happens in werent mike and will staring into each other's souls and then having their gazes torn from each other, but they are. so take that as you will.

now we need to talk about eight fifteen. this is fucking wild.

eight fifteen is all build up for the first half. then there's a moment where it teeters on the edge for a second, and then BOOM! release & loud pretty synths. i lined it up, and the 'teetering' part of the song is in the scene in jonathan's room, but like the others, it's edited. but this one is WAY more crazy.

the song starts from the beginning when will sits on the bed next to mike. it builds while mike talks about his problems with el and not saying the thing she wants. then will says "look, mike, you're gonna see her again, and whatever it is you didn't say, you can say it to her then, okay?" the teetering part starts when will says

"look" and goes all the way until he says "then"

when he says "then", that is the moment when the buildup is supposed to release. but in this scene, it doesn't happen. instead, when he finishes talking, specifically when he says "then" the note kind of trails off. it sounds weird. it's unsatisfying. there was no payoff to all that buildup. i've seen plenty of other tv shows where this is used to emphasize the face that there was no payoff. something in the scene was anticlimactic. something that they wanted to happen or were expecting to happen didnt. the characters are disappointed or left hanging.

and when that note trials off, mike says

"yeah...yeah" and looks down, looking upset and conflicted and disappointed

he wanted will to say something else. will saying "you can say it to her then, okay?" disappointed mike. that's not what he wanted to hear. i think mike wanted will to reassure him and tell him he doesn't have to say something he doesn't mean or doesn't want to say, and that when they see el again mike can explain himself. mike desperately wants to be told he doesn't have to pretend to be in love with el if that's not how he really feels. he wants to be told that el won't be angry if he's honest with her about his true feelings for her, which are platonic. (hence why he later nods after will says 'what if they don't like the truth?')

but will doesn't understand that. will thinks they are in love, he thinks they're perfect. so in his mind, it's fine because mike can just say it when he sees el again. but he thinks that because he thinks mike actually means it, when in reality he doesn't. and by doing that, will only further pushed mike into giving his false confession. now mike thinks even more that he just has to spit it out and tell el what she wants to hear even if it's not how he really feels. this just breaks my heart because mike is so hated on but he's a GOOD BOY💔💔 he's just a 14 year old kid who's afraid of failing the people he cares about but also hates lying about his feelings and just wants to feel free from the expectations others have for him. he just wants someone, specifically will, to tell him it's okay, and that he doesn't owe anyone anything, especially not his own feelings. and it hurts extra bad because if will knew the truth about mike not loving el he would shower him in support because of course mike shouldn't have to lie just because it's what el wants to hear.

and just in case anyone tries to say otherwise, YES mike lied in the monologue. it doesn't need to be proven, it's simply canon.

like there's no denying this. believing it's just a mistake by the writers before believing mike lied is CRAZY heteronormative copium. like come on💀

anyways, the things mike says and does in the scene in jonathan's support this theory. he threw away el's note. "a fight you cant come back from" "maybe if i just said that thing then things would be different" his phrasing sticks out so much. "said that thing" and not "told her" or "told her how i feel". to mike it's just saying words he doesn't want to say. and "a fight you cant come back from" its almost like he's hinting to will that he and el need to break up and he's hoping will will catch on and support him. he trusts will and values his opinion and wants his support. usually he and will very easily communicate non verbally and are naturally in tune with what the other is thinking and feeling, but this time will doesn't catch on (because of his own heteronormativity and assumption that mike and el are in love), and mike is disappointed. he brings this up over and over, like he isn't satisfied with will's answer, and is a little more honest every time. the only thing that seemingly satisfied mike was hearing will's feelings. why did it even get that far?? why would what will said in jonathan's room not suffice if he is actually in love with el??? it just doesn't make sense.

(unless it actually makes perfect sense)

i'm very confident in this since this lies less with the continuity within stranger things itself and more with basic film/video/sound editing. i even got some comments from editors/musicians who agreed with me!

"It's a tactic I've actually used before in editing. It keeps the audience engrossed, and really makes it FEEL interrupted for the audience."

"Woah that's crazy! And it literally stops on the fifth so it's totally legitimately unstable/ unresolved."

stopping on the fifth refers to a technique used in music composition to make a chord progression sound completed. i actually know a bit about this because i took music theory in college, but if anyone knows more than me feel free to share! a completed progression is like a circle. you must begin and end with the same chord. you start with one chord and move down a fifth to the next chord, and do that until you end up back at the original chord. that way it sounds nice and satisfying and completed. in 'on the bus', which the commenter was referring to, this process is cut short, which would serve no purpose other than making the music sound and feel incomplete or interrupted or unsatisfying.

if i just butchered that whole explanation please let me know, but im pretty sure that's accurate.

here is the video with two of the scenes i talked about, using 'Eight Fifteen' and 'On The Bus'

and just as a reminder, on the bus has only played twice in the entire show. first in the lumax talk on top of the bus in season 2, and second in the byler talk in will's room in s4. 🙂

anyways i hope this was comprehensible😅 i remember my tiktok followers being very confused so feel free to re read and re watch as many times as necessary or reply with any questions! and anyone who has more input on editing/music pls share with the class if you'd like!!

anyways byler endgame, thanks for reading

#byler #stranger things #will byers #mike wheeler #byler endgame #mike wheeler i know what you are #byler analysis #milkvan is bones #stranger things 4 #anti milkvan #anti mileven #byler canon #byler music coding #stranger things music coding #byler music #byler coding #st4 music coding #byler s4 analysis

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endereies · 3 months ago

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BOOK CLUB - MS

No Nut November - Day 1

NNN Masterlist...

-➤ You and Matt waltz around a local book shop, but Matt isn't looking at the books

You dragged your fingers against the familiar grain of polished wood that encased the shelves of books before you. Quiet murmurs of the few people inside brought you a comfort that was hard to find anywhere else. Matt’s hand laid in yours, softly caressing your skin with his thumb. The speakers played harmless classics. A few of them made you smile as you acknowledged the tunes.

Going to book stores made you happy and finding one so close to your home was quick to top your list. The few staff that worked there grew familiar with your names. It was cute to say the least. Especially from Matt’s point of view. He adored the smile that grew on your lips when they addressed you both. One was rarely without the other. He wanted to be there, not because he had a particular interest in books, but because he knew you did. That’s all that mattered to him.

His gaze broke as you slipped your hand away from his, rushing off to the new release section of books. Even if you were only here a week ago, you limited yourself. Only getting a certain number of books each time and spending a reasonable amount of money on them.

“Awh, this is the one I read the other week! Remember? It’s the one where he confesses in a letter that she didn’t read until after he left for his studies. Ugh, I cannot wait for the next one to be released.” Your lips moved rapidly as you spoke.

“Oh yeah, I do remember that one. Didn’t you read this too?” He mused, picking up a book with crisp, stiff pages.

“Hm? Oh, I’ve nearly finished that one. I’m so excited to see how it ends, these two are literally perfect.” The tips of your fingers laid upon the characters poised on the cover, staring at each other from behind their shoulders.

His hand came up to his face, pushing back a loose strand of hair covering his eyes. He watched the glimmer in your eyes, rambling ever so slightly about these two characters. He’d heard you talk about them before, when the book premiered. He just couldn’t get enough of the excited tones laced in your voice.

You flattened your palm against a new book, feeling the textured cover under your skin. “And this one. I actually fell in love with this one so much. The way the author writes, the plot line, it all just drags you in. I genuinely had to put it down a few times just so I could process it all. I was reeling after the first read of this.”

“First?” A curious glint in his eyes as he stared at the cover, reading over the blurb.

“You expect me to read them only once? I have a collection of comfort books, you know the ones on my bedside table.” He shook his head, a chuckle passing his lips.

Exploring the rest of the shop followed the same pattern. You’d talk about books you’ve read previously while gawking over the ones on your list to be read. As you both dawdled the store, Matt found himself holding a small stack of books you hadn’t even realised. You were too busy in your own world to acknowledge the fact he picked up any book you rambled cutely about.

After all, he just wanted his girl to be happy.

@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckerrss @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @colorthecosmos444 @anabethinking @zay-sturns @anyaa2s @emilyfaith2003 @zariyam @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut

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eringobragh420 · 3 months ago

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🖤 Pairing — Damian Priest ♥︎ f!Reader 🖤 Summary — Sequel to Hatefucking. Reader thinks she can bad-mouth Damian live on Raw and get away with it. She’s very wrong. 🖤 Word Count — 1.9k 🛑 Warnings — NSFW. Face-fucking, hatefuck (the characters do not like each other), degradation, cum 18+ 🖤 Taglist — In the comments. If you’d like to be added, please click here! 🖤 Requested By — @miss-kuki-nz. Hope you enjoy! 🖤 MASTERLIST, KINK LIST

“You know, Damian Priest and I used to be really … really close,” she purred into the microphone, glancing around the arena as the audience murmured. “But I had to end it not too long ago.” She shoved her bottom lip out, blinking, leaning on the top rope, feigning sadness. “Honestly, I just got so tired of saying just a second … I have to get the tweezers every time he took his pants off.” The crowd erupted, mostly in boos, and she simply giggled. “And then,” she continued dramatically, “after he finished—” Her eyes slid sideways to the camera in the corner of the ring. “—that is, if he finished …” More hatred from the crowd, and she shared a proud smile with Liv Morgan.

Damian’s music blasted through the arena and the titantron came to life, and she and Liv unknowingly reached for one another. Surely he wouldn’t come out and try to attack two small women, no matter how big their mouths were. He was probably coming out to try and save face, defend himself from the harsh words they both knew to be a huge lie. When Damian slowly appeared in the entranceway she and Liv had just come from, she thought for sure that’s what was about to happen.

Until he broke into an all-out sprint, and the women scrambled out of the ring, over the barrier and into the time keeper’s area. They turned briefly to see if Damian was following them, and with his long legs and speed, he was already nearly on them. The Judgment Day’s music hit, causing the big man to pause only briefly, but it was long enough for the girls to put a bit more distance between them and disappear into the backstage area. Liv suggested they split up, and the two of them headed down separate hallways in an effort to divide and conquer. The thorn in Damian’s side broke off to the left, into a darkened corridor, grinning wildly because even if he did catch her, what was he really going to do? Yell at her? Chokeslam her? She hadn’t forgotten about the hatefuck from a few weeks prior, certainly not—sometimes, even now, she could still feel the sensation of his thick cock painfully stretching her asshole—but this hallway was a very public place, more public than behind an unlocked door. If she just laid low here for a while, until most everyone had departed the arena for their flights or hotel rooms, Damian included, she should be able to sneak out unnoticed and, more importantly, unscathed.

That’s when she noticed it. The shift in the atmosphere, the rise in temperature only on the back half of her body, the unusual sensation of not only being watched, but that whomever was watching her was incredibly close. The sum of all these parts sent her sprinting for the hallway in front of her, but she didn’t get very far—a hand clamped over her mouth, an arm came around her midsection, and she was yanked back into the dark corridor. Her heart pounded and she kicked her legs, but she never once attempted to scream as Damian wrenched her back deeper into the darkness. Eventually he returned her to her feet, and she would proceed to ignore the disappointment she felt at the loss of his hard body against her as he spun her around to face him. She could hardly see anything with the lack of lighting down this particular hallway, but if she didn’t know it was Damian before, the familiar hand around her throat, forcing her into the nearest wall, made it crystal clear.

“I am so fuckin’ tired of your mouth,” he growled. One side of him was a shadow, but all of him was huge, imposing, formidable.

Her heart threatened to crack her ribcage, thighs twitching, pussy throbbing. He could throttle her at any moment if he wanted, and she just bet he wanted, which slowly formed a wicked smile on her wet lips. “Aww, did I hurt your feelings?” she pouted. A tiny trickle of fear slipped down her spine as she remembered what he’d done to her ass, realizing he could do it again if he wanted to. It would be risky and it would hurt and she would hate him, but wasn’t that just exactly who they were? A little toxic, a dash of disdain, and a whole lot of sexual chemistry? “What are you gonna do about it?” It was a question only half of her wanted the answer to—the half that Damian Priest happened to own.

Damian said nothing, which was a hell of a lot more unnerving than when he was degrading her or splitting her holes open, and the hand on her throat forced her body down until she collapsed to her bare knees on the concrete floor. He released her neck to fist her hair, forcing her head back, as his other hand worked stealthily to unbuckle his belt and open his jeans. He pulled his still-hardening cock out without the barrier of underwear, and she smirked—he’d either been planning or hoping.

“What else do you do with a filthy mouth?” he asked, stroking his length directly over her face, and she could smell him, that sexy man musk she always smelled whenever her mouth was about to get pummeled. She bit her lip, forcing silence on a desperate moan threatening from her throat, because yes, of course, she wanted this, but she didn’t want anyone to catch her wanting it. “Fuck it until it apologizes,” Damian snarled, still fisting his solid cock, so close to her face now she could feel his fingers grazing her cheek, and she salivated at the now constant craving she had for Damian Priest, especially his big dick—the very one she’d just told millions of people was tiny.

However, the mere thought of apologizing had her mouth falling open in what would have been raucous laughter if not for the cock that was instantly shoved inside where it didn’t stop until it poked the back of her throat. She gagged, hands coming up automatically, and Damian’s much larger hand smacked both of hers away, his other grip tightening on her hair. After a moment, he pulled almost completely out of her mouth, knowing better than to give her an opportunity to clench her teeth, and then he stuffed himself in the wet cavern again. A deep, vibrating moan came from above, but it was muffled by her coughing and gagging, and she worried she’d be the one to give them away. But fuck, she loved it. She hated the douchebag, egotistical little boy he acted like most of the time, but she’d be a dirty, rotten, filthy liar if she said she hated the way his body made her feel, how much she yearned for his cock in her mouth, even more so in her pussy, and it may have hurt for a week after, but she wanted him to take her ass again. Nobody could satisfy her the way Damian Priest did, and she would never, even upon threat of death, admit to this fact.

“These are the sounds you should be making,” Damian growled. He was pumping into her throat at a leisurely pace, but his length and girth quickly caused her jaw to ache, the corners of her mouth to burn, and the drool built up from the foreign intrusion began seeping down her chin. “Nobody wants to hear you talk,” Damian panted, “we all just wanna hear you gag on my cock.”

Sometimes it’s all she wanted to hear, too—again, a fact she would never share with anyone—but then he forced himself all the way down her throat, her nose bumping his crotch, and she lost the ability to breathe. It was hot until it seemed as though Damian wasn’t going to pull out, and he allowed her this time to slap at his thighs and claw at his jeans before he yanked his cock out of her mouth. She gulped and gasped for air, a dense bridge of spit and drool and precum stretching from the head of his dick to her tongue and lips.

“Fuck you, Priest,” she blubbered, trying to collect herself by steeling her knees to the concrete and wiping her chin with the sleeve of her shirt, and she could feel her own arousal dripping down her thighs

“Yeah, fuck me,” Damian mocked quietly, the wet sounds of him jerking his length echoing throughout the hallway. “Fuck you.”

She opened her mouth to retort, her words forced back down her throat by Damian’s cock, and he had both hands tangled in her hair now, and he wasn’t even thrusting anymore—he controlled her head, pushing and pulling, using her mouth like it was a fleshlight that felt no pain and had no gag reflex. Her fingers were vices on his jeans and she felt one of her nails crack, but she wouldn’t speak the safe word. Never in a million, trillion years would she allow Damian Priest to break her, to allow him to believe that he was just too much for her, that she wasn’t able to handle him. So she let him have his way, neither encouraging nor discouraging as he fucked her face, gagging, coughing, sputtering when she had to, and gulping down as much oxygen as she could when he allowed it. At some point, her own fingers had snuck within her slick folds, flicking gently against her clit before her middle finger slipped inside her aching cunt.

“Fuck yes,” Damian groaned, “this is what they should be paying you for.” She smiled around his dick, a breathy laugh coming from her nose—she couldn’t argue with the logic; her head game was fire, and the evidence was currently obstructing her windpipe. “You like that idea, don’t you?” Damian chuckled darkly. “Well, I don’t have any cash on me, and I guess you don’t take credit cards.” He was jerking her head back and forth at an uncomfortable pace, though her fingers kept a similar velocity in her pussy. “So I’ll just have to pay you in cum, huh?”

She really didn’t want it any other way, and she added another digit inside her pussy. Her jaw screamed, her throat would be raw for days to come, her knees would likely be bruised, maybe scraped, and she was a little pissed about her nail, but she loved every minute of it. And once she was alone in her hotel room later, she would pull out her toys and think of this very moment. Damian mumbled and repeated obscenities above her, pulling her hair and squeezing her skull, and she was so close to cumming herself that a roar tore through her chest and neck, consequently vibrating down Damian’s cock. He cried out through tightly closed lips, his length buried to the root in her throat, her nose crushed against him, and she could feel him twitching, but she never tasted his cum.

“Straight down your fuckin’ throat,” Damian mumbled. She could feel the warmth of his cum as it fell down her esophagus, and it was the strangest thing to swallow something that was never in your mouth to begin with, and she still couldn’t breathe, and Damian was blissfully riding out his orgasm on her face, and it was finally her turn to topple over the edge, coating her hand in her own juices, body quivering. He pulled out and took a few steps back, and she collapsed onto all fours, coughing, spitting, still drooling a little. A filthy mess. After tucking himself away, Damian squatted down in front of her. “No more talking about my dick on live television,” he advised.

She snickered, sitting up on her knees again. “Why? I only like you when you’re angry.”

#wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #wwe x reader #damian priest #damian priest x reader #smut #damian priest smut #damian priest kinklist #damian priest imagine #damian priest fanfic #damian priest fanfiction #wwe fandom #wwe smut #wwe fic

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ukiiseikou · 6 months ago

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don't mess up, my lucky charm, my last chance.

wanderer x gn! reader. figure skating au.

synopsis: your pairs partner just ghosted you, but no worries! your coach manages to replace him with the next worst thing - wanderer. a/n: hi! making this a series called complementary figures, a figure skating au universe. stay tuned for other characters ^^ thanks for reading

“hi, i’d like to report a missing person’s case.”

ayaka looks up from unlacing her skates, giving you a sympathetic smile, “any news?”

“he’s gone gone, like, poof! i’ve been calling him ever since he disappeared two weeks ago but it’s like he never existed. i even called the police, and all they could say was ‘he’s still alive’, like buddy, i hope so.”

ayaka stands up, offering you a quick hug, “i’m so sorry, it was an asshole move for him to ghost you like this in the middle of the season.”

“it’s fine. i guess it’s all over now. still kind of in shock, but whatever.”

you sigh, sitting down on the bench and kicking off your sneakers as you pull your skates out from your bag. you weren’t even sure why you were here, your partner had up and left you in the middle of the competition season and you can’t perform a pairs routine by yourself. you were content to just wallow in self pity and refreshing instagram to see if, miraculously, any available pairs guy would contact you and ask to try out. in fact, you had been doing exactly that for the past few week and a half, but yae asked you to come in today, saying that you ‘needed to reconnect with the ice’.

you wave bye to ayaka as she walks away, leaving you to your own devices as you start pulling on the strings of your laces.

“y/n.”

yae appears before you, and you strain to get a look at her, a familiar grin on her face.

“hi, coach, what’s up?” you finish tying up your skates and stand up. with your skate, you tower over yae just a little bit, but you always felt like a little kid before her - she’s been your coach since you were little anyway, alongside your former partner.

“no news?”

you shake your head, and she sighs.

“disappointing, but no matter, we move ahead.”

she beckons you to follow her, and you trail behind her as she steps onto the ice gracefully. you’ve been off ice for about a week now, and you really feel it. there’s a bundle of nerves as you slowly follow her in a lap around the rink, is this where yae tells me my pairs career is over?

“what do you think about getting a new partner?” she stops suddenly, and you nearly crash into her, lost in your thoughts.

“um, if there’s someone out there who wants me?” you offer awkwardly.

she laughs, “well, he better, you’re his last chance.”

“wait, you’re saying someone asked to partner up with me?”

she taps her chin, “it’s more like - i offered and no one else wanted him, so we’re his only choice.”

she finishes with a self satisfied grin, “don’t worry, y/n dear, he’s won a few medals.”

“yeah? like what?”

“world championships, world cup finals,” she lists off a bunch of titles, including national champion.

wait, national champion?

“are you talking about, uh, wanderer?” you interrupt her.

“is that the kid's name? ah, i forgot. he always hissed at me and ran away whenever i went over to ei’s house.”

while yae launches into reminiscing about her shared history with his coach, your mind goes a mile a minute.

wanderer, national champion, current world champion, former junior world record holder, and current world-renowned asshole.

no one can deny his talent and skills, but also that comes with a major attitude. you’ve heard changing room horror stories about him scaring off potential partners; people leaving in tears; a world record in the number of partners dropped; and if he drops you in the middle of a lift it’s not his fault - it’s yours.

“yae, why in the world did you offer to pair me up with some asshole?” you blurt out, “yae, i thought you liked me.”

“oh look, they’re here!”

yae pointedly ignores your comment and pushes past you, making her way to the edge of the rink. you can feel the drilling stare, even with your back facing him. you just prayed to whatever archon is listening that he didn’t hear you, and you would at least leave this temporary partnership with your ego and self-confidence intact.

“ei! long time no see,” yae stops at the boards, as you slowly turn on your blades and skate towards where the pair is waiting.

“this is y/n,” she beckons you, and you pick up the pace, gliding into place next to her.

“hi, uh, it’s nice to meet you!” you’ll try your best to leave a good impression on his coach, at least.

“likewise,” ei nods and holds out a hand to shake, which you take.

“kunikuzushi,” she angles her head towards you, “say it.”

“hey,” he says curtly, avoiding your gaze. awkward silence settles over the group before yae claps her hands.

“i see. kuni, then? i see your skates are on, good! get up here. y/n, sweetheart, can you get my phone please? i would like to film this, thank you.”

you sigh, moving to grab yae’s phone on the other side of the boards. you watch the boy pull off his skate guards and step onto the ice out of the corner of your eye. you can’t deny it - you can tell by the way he holds himself that he’s far more elegant and well-trained than half of the guys you’ve seen come in and out of the rink door. the two of you make eye contact and you quickly fumble with yae’s phone, placing it near her hand.

ei and yae are chatting, leaving you to awkwardly follow wanderer, or kuni, or kunikuzushi, you weren’t really sure what to call him anymore.

“can you even skate?” he sounds irritated, and you bristle.

“of course i can, can you?” you retort.

“i’m the current world champion. of course i can. are you dumb?” he whirls around to face you.

“yeah? try doing that again without a partner,” you fume.

“i don’t need a partner to win.”

“it’s called fucking pairs.”

he snorts, “and you think your mediocre skills can keep up with me?”

“sorry, but i happen to hear you switch partners every season? you need me. admit it, i’m your last chance, because nobody else is stupid enough to partner up with someone like you.”

“someone like me? it’s okay! you can just call me an asshole again, just to my face. go on.”

you stop, skates slowing to a halt, you can feel your face heating up at the reminder of the less-than-kind comment you made only a few moments ago. ah, fuck, he heard me.

his eyes narrow at your silence, and he whirls around again and kicks off, throwing ice in your direction and he leaves you behind.

“y/n, honey, you’re supposed to skate with him! don’t tell me you forgot after a week already!”

you hear yae call from the boards, and you roll your eyes.

you race to catch up to him, but he ignores you.

“okay, fine! i’m sorry! but like - prove me wrong!”

he turns at you with a strange look in his eyes that you can’t really place. before you can get a closer look, yae yells at you to ‘do a spin or something!’

he grabs your hand, grumbling something under his breath as he slows to match your strokes.

“do you know how to do triple salchow?” he questions over the sound of blade scratching ice.

“side-by-side? i mean, i can try!”

he rolls his eyes at you, but he releases your hand, “you go first, i’ll follow.”

wait, shouldn’t we talk about this?

you nearly stop your momentum but you catch how he’s staring intently at you. your insides squeeze together, your partner could never do a salchow properly, so you haven’t done it in a long ass time.

okay, fine.

you adjust your position, and you can hear his skates against the ice as well, perfectly mirroring your position as you launch yourself into the air.

there’s a foreign feeling in your legs, and next you know it, you end up hitting the ground, legs giving out as you slip and land. wanderer snickers as he slows to a halt next to you, and you just know he landed that triple salchow perfectly.

"not only did you double it, but you also fell on your ass? some skating skills you have."

you fell a thousand times before, but this one stings. you wince as you hang your head, trying to figure out if the dull throb in your leg is anything serious.

"are you crying? archons, i can't believe i have a crybaby of a partner." he sighs, but twists to get a better look at your face. you turn away from him.

"i'm fine," you say, pulling yourself to your feet, there's a shit-eating grin on your face, "let's try that again, partner."

he scoffs, "should've known you were pretending. can't deal with crybabies. you're lucky i'm giving you a second chance."

"watch this one. their debut internationally, the new wonder pair from inazuma. their chemistry is electrifying, and their technical content is one of the best!"

you let out a dry laugh of amusement at the commentators as you splay out across the couch, taking up all the space. wanderer hisses at you to 'get off me' but makes no move to shove your legs off his lap, instead, he grabs the remote from the coffee table to fast forward through the gushing that takes place before you've even entered your beginning pose, eyebrows drawn in irritation.

the two of you watch intently, the bright lights of yae's TV cutting through the darkness of the night combined with tightly drawn curtains. wanderer lets out a snort when you nearly crash into the ground as you land from your throw lutz, only saving it with a ridiculously bent knee that keeps you upright.

"still not used to the height?" he smirks.

"shut up, you're lucky i saved that," you spit. it's true, despite his shorter stature, he's hiding some serious muscle, enough to throw you into the air with height that looks like 'he's trying to send you to the moon' - as the commentators put it. your former partner never threw you that high up, and when you first did it, you felt as if you were in the air for an eternity.

"hah! no. you're lucky i held back."

"let's just call it even," you sniffle, turning back to watch the replay. after months of skating together, you know his little quirks, and when you shake with mock tears he stiffens, and you know you've actually got him wrapped around your finger. when you first actually cried in front of him (after a particularly ugly fall that felt like a broken bone), he spent his time saying that you 'looked ugly when you cry' and holding up tissues to your nose, but you can tell by his eyes his worry when the tears won't stop coming despite his irritated sighs and non-stop shaking of his head.

"whatever," he pats your ankle with a sense of urgency, the sofa creaking as he throws off your legs to stand up, "keep those ankles of steel safe, lucks, you'll need it."

you watch as he moves to ransack yae's fridge, and he sticks his face into the cool air in a desperate bid to stop the red crawling across his face. you're left quiet on the couch, an indescribable feeling racing up your neck at the nickname.

you tune out yae's usual pep talk as you survey the crowd - the arena's more packed than usual, and you're feeling the pre-program jitters.

wanderer's hand finds your's, giving you a tight squeeze.

"you ready?"

you turn to smile at him, and he returns a rare one, "with you? always."

he snorts, but turns his head away as red tinges the tip of his ears, "don't mess up."

(and, by the way, thanks for giving me a chance back then.)

maybe i will write one where wanderer meets your ex-partner anyways, ♡ or ↻ if you enjoyed, support your writers, thank you!!

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer #scaramouche #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #gi x reader #actually kinda hate this but we will see #* mine #* complementary figures

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agilerose · 2 months ago

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everything that has changed in the extra shortened broadway version of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child:

i went for a friend's birthday last night and got to see the now newly shortened (again) cursed child play and there were a lot of differences. it was super fast paced and didn't leave the actors a lot of time to breathe or live in their characters as much. it was still so lovely but it's definitely more of a shell than it once was. that being said! my friend and i have compiled a list of all the things that have been altered (that we can remember)

i tried to put everything as in order as possible but my brain isn’t always very good at that!

ACT 1

The whole bit about Hermione thinking Ron confunded the driving examiner is cut

“People always look when you three are together” bit is cut

Albus and Rose happen upon Scorpius much quicker in his compartment

Rose doesn’t say anything when Albus is sorted into Slytherin

There’s been a rumor about Voldemort having a child every year Scorpius isn’t the first to be accused was cut from Draco and Harry’s interaction on the platform.

Albus doesn't ask "What's the counter-curse?" in the potions scene; significantly cut down

Wandlore dance is extended slightly (I think??)

When Albus casts “Incendio” on his Hogsmeade slip, he doesn’t follow it up with his “The ironic thing is I didn’t expect it to work. I’m terrible at that spell.” bit, just leaves after Harry speaks

Harry and Hermione walk into Harry’s office at the same time for the time turner reveal scene instead of Hermione walking in and Harry already being there

The time turner reveal scene is much quicker

When Albus meets Delphi at the stairs, his dialogue of "Who are you? Because this is my house…" is cut and she just skips into the "You must be Albus Potter." lines after popping in with her first few lines

Rose pulls Albus into the compartment this time to speak to him instead of just walking in front of him to speak with him

Dialogue between Albus and Rose is cut down a bit before he goes to get Scorpius off the train

I think the “You really are an enormous geek.” bit was taken out

When Albus asks Scorpius “Did Cedric need to be killed?, instead of saying “Easy question, easy answer: No.”, Scorpius quietly responds “No” before Albus continues on with his ramble

Draco doesn’t say “Voldemort is dead. Voldemort is gone”, his first line in this scene is after the Dark Mark mention

Amos doesn’t say “Of COURSE they do!” when Albus tells him that the ministry has a time turner

Albus, Scorpius, and Delphi (all transfigured into their counterparts at this point) don’t go into the telephone booth to go to the ministry; instead, Delphi/Hermione and Scorpius/Harry wander off one way while Albus/Ron goes the other way (the wrong way) and they have to call him back

No fishfinger sandwiches remark from Hermione to Albus/Ron :(

Bane is completely cut

They have Harry, Draco, Ginny and Ron all searching in the forest instead of just Harry then they split off only Harry being there.

Harry searches the forest instead of encountering Bane; Ginny has to come get him

Albus isn’t in his pajamas in the hospital ward when he wakes up, just his uniform

Harry comes to the realization somehow on his own that Scorpius is the issue “It isn’t a what that’s wounding him, it’s a who” (or something along those lines) and then bans Albus from seeing Scorpius

Ron and Hermione's encounter atop the stairs is MUCH shorter

The entire scene where Harry gives McGonagall the Marauders Map and instructs her to watch Albus and Scorpius is cut

No Bane mention in the Draco and Harry fight scene

If I recall, the lines “I don’t want to hurt you, Draco.” and “How interesting, because I do want to hurt you,” were said earlier in the scene because of cut dialogue

Ginny says “It’s been one minute. What did I miss?” instead of “I only left the room three minutes ago. What did I miss?”

When Harry, Ginny, and Draco go to McGonagall’s office, some dialogue is cut

ACT 2

The act starts with Scorpius on stage in this scene; he’s surrounded by the death eaters as they do the Voldemort Day dance around him instead of him being absent in this scene (only really good change in my opinion, it looked super neat and added to the story)

Scorpius is a lot more intimidating towards Craig when asking where Snape is (trying to take on this counterpart of Scorpion King)

Scorpius doesn’t hug Albus in the water when he reappears (very well could have just been a this showing thing)

Ron and Hermione’s “marriage renewal” scene is cut and changed to just them almost making out (big loss because that scene was amazing)

When Scorpius tells Albus he thought of him to fought off the dementors, Albus goes “Oh.” pauses and then goes , “I mean… Good,” softly

Dialogue is cut from the Owlery scene, including the “it’s time that time-turning became a thing of the past!“ silly bit

Ron doesn’t ramble too long at all about having drinks with Neville, it’s just one short sentence; added in that Delphi is an “older girl” (from the five hour cut originally) and Ron is all like “but go get ‘em I guess”

Ron says “specialis-draco-is-stupido” or something along the lines of that instead of directly repeating "specialis revelio" to mock him

Hermione unscrews the bulb instead of Ginny

No “Still, if I had to choose a companion to be at the return of eternal darkness with, I’d choose you.” bit, that whole scene is considerably shorter :(

Harry and Ginny have a bit of a longer chat in the church; Ginny goes “You're lucky to have me, aren't you?” and Harry responds with “Extremely.” (derived from the original 5-hour play but swapped with who says it)

Ginny and Albus don’t have their heart-to-heart in the church

Delphi's magic show (the fight at the end) is shorter and happens more rapidly than before

it's quite a lot looking at it all on paper. truthfully, i miss the old version. if anyone has seen this shortened version and can remember anything else and/or i'm misremembering anything, let me know! i know i was searching for this when the play was first shortened again so i hope this reaches others who might be curious!

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narizaki · 7 months ago

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remember summer days tsukishima kei x reader

― tags fluff, established relationship, pre-timeskip & timeskip kei, gn reader

― notes i thought of this randomly, forgive any grammar mistakes & ooc characters, wc is around 900, i am only capable of writing fluff, there's like one cuss word, ik remember summer days is from the 80s don't mind

it was on a warm summer day when you found out tsukishima kei — the love of your life, resident intimidating giant with a terrible resting bitch face — listened to 90’s japanese city pop.

out of anything that could be playing in those white sony headphones of his, you think anri and miki matsubara were probably at the bottom of the list. and, boy, did you have a field day when you found out.

“aww, kei! that’s so cute! i would’ve never thought you’d listened to this kind of music,” you cooed, scrolling through his extensive playlist. you recognized various artists, all well-known for their songs in the city pop genre, in addition to a plethora of other titles. beside you, kei was fuming. the tips of his ears were burning a red so bright that he couldn’t even blame it on the heat. he’d given up his attempts to retrieve his phone long ago, ultimately deciding to deal with the embarrassment and allow you to thumb through his music account.

had it not been for the sheer amount of boredom you were experiencing that day, you’d never would have found out about kei’s taste in music. having left his unlocked phone on his desk while he ventured downstairs to find something cold for the two of you to eat, you couldn’t deny your curiosity about his music taste. more often than not, kei would have his headphones plugged into his phone — even when you’d first met him, he had them on. when you asked why he always had them on, he bluntly responded that they drowned out any bothersome noises with something more tolerable.

however, whenever you asked what he was listening to, he’d brush you off. if you were to count on both hands and feet the number of times he’d simply scoffed at your questioning, telling you that it wasn’t any of your business, you think you’d run out before you even got halfway through. the curiosity was killing you, which is why you took the first opportunity you had to figure out what was so special about his music. there had to be something to it that made him inclined to practically gatekeep it from his own partner.

and to find out it was because he was embarrassed by it? you thought you were on cloud 9.

“shut up,” he grumbled, “it’s not that interesting.”

your only response was to giggle, clicking on one of the songs you knew — remember summer days by anri. the smooth introduction of the song reverberated throughout kei’s room, and you gently tossed his phone off to the side of his bed. you stood from your seated position on your boyfriend’s bed, nudging his knees apart with your own to stand between them. while quietly humming the song, you took kei’s face into your hands, thumbs running over the apples of his cheeks.

“i know,” you replied, smiling down at his flushed face. it was a rarity he ever got close to being embarrassed, so you made sure to savor his expression. “just thought it was funny that you were hiding this from me for so long.”

“i wasn’t hiding anything from you.” he mumbled. he wasn’t making eye contact with you, but his hands came to rest on your hips anyway. he gave them an unconscious squeeze, pulling you closer to him. you could only laugh as the song continued, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“sure.”

“hey, (name),” hinata calls out. you turn to the orange-haired opposite hitter, prompting him to continue. “did you ever figure out what stingy-shima over here listens to? he always had his headphones in during highschool, but never, ever, told us what was playing in them!”

the sudden question causes you to burst out laughing, and a glance around the room tells you that everyone else is as interested. who knew those mysterious headphones of his racked up this much attention? even kageyama was watching intently!

you feel kei tense up from beside you, a harsh squeeze to your hand serving as a silent warning. don’t say anything. he’s glaring daggers at you, and you don’t doubt that he’s planning out hinata’s demise in his mind.

you almost feel bad. you consider waving off hinata’s question, brushing it off with another laugh. maybe saying something along the lines of oh, just podcasts, or whatever’s on the radio.

but, you decide you don’t feel bad enough, so despite the burning sensation at the back of your head, a teasing grin breaks out on your face.

“well, hinata, if you really wanted to know, kei likes to listen to —”

“ah, would you look at that,” kei cuts you off mid-sentence. “it's getting pretty late, i think it’s time for us to go now. thank you all for tonight, we'll see you guys around.” he finishes, speaking uncharacteristically fast. there’s a nervous lilt to his voice that makes you cackle, shoulders shaking and tears threatening to pool in your eyes. he’s tossing a few yen onto the table to pay for your shares of food, before tugging on your arm and pulling you out of the restaurant.

once the two of you are walking back to his car, he’s grumbling about how much he hates that dumbass hinata and how he’ll definitely be paying for asking that. you take advantage of his distracted and irritated state to sneak the professional volleyball player a text while you enter kei's car.

to hinata: he likes listening to 90s city pop. think stay with me by miki matsubara.

from hinata: NO WAY

to hinata: yes way.

to hinata: btw, if he kills me, it’s ur fault.

from hinata: WHAT NO

you snicker from the passenger seat, prompting your fiancé to side-eye you. in response, you entwine your hands, the sound of anri’s remember summer days filling your ears.

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima kei x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #tsukishima kei fluff

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lightdancingwords · 1 month ago

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One Day - Part One of ?

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Y/N Female character Series Summary: You were rescued by Dean Winchester a long time ago. Over time, you kept bumping into each other.

Word Count: 4,556

Tags/Warnings: Violence, profanity, murder/death/kill, angst, arguments, slaps, mention of torture, monsters/supernatural

A/N: Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback are always highly appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! This story is AU as it does veer a bit from the history we see in Season 1 of Supernatural. There will be references to episodes and seasons, but it'll change as the chapters come. Enjoy the ride!

Dividers: credit to @talesmaniac89

Chapter One: The First Time

Dean was in a mood. Sam had just left for Stanford—and God, that was one Hell of a fight to break up between his brother and John—and his father…. Well, John had been trusting Dean to go on hunts by himself for a while now. Like a good little soldier, doing what daddy said.

After Sam left, John just muttered about how he had a job to do and he had damned well go do it. So… Dean hopped into the Impala and started looking for newspapers to track down the next monster to hunt.

There was a hint of something—a missing person’s case—that didn’t sit right with Dean. He made some phone calls, impersonated an official or two, the usual—and off he went to a cozy little city in Indiana, home of Purdue University.

Go Boilers! Right?

Ugh.

Not that it hurt to see all the hot chicks. Man, college girls….

His missing person’s case was, unfortunately for his libido, not one of the Sororities. He wished it was. He knew pornos weren’t accurate, but wouldn’t it have been nice if they were?

God. He needed to get laid.

He yanked his attention back to the missing person’s case, and realized that while he was driving, investigating, and basically from the date of the first case, three more had gone missing. The monster, whatever it was, was being systematic.

Every single one of the missing persons came from the same floor as this one off-campus apartment complex. If you could call a whacked up house divided into four individual studios an apartment complex.

He tracked down the very last person from that complex, a pretty teenage girl, fresh to college named Y/N.

“So let me get this straight,” he said, trying very hard to stay focused on the hunt and not flirt with her. “You don’t know why the others have gone missing?”

“That’s right,” she said, regarding this ridiculously young looking man dubiously. He didn’t dress like an investigator nor did he act like one.

“Did you know them well?”

She shook her head, fidgeting on the sofa. In the course of two weeks, four people in the building had gone missing. She was the last one left and was, quite honestly, freaking out.

Four studio apartments, four people. Two of them had just moved in together. She was, literally, the last one standing.

“Any weird people hanging around? Repair folks? Maintenance guys? Anything?”

She shook her head again. “No. The only person that came around in the last month was the landlord.”

“Oh yeah? Why’d he come around?”

She let out a sigh. “I really wish I knew. Just something about annual inspection, but we just moved in like… two months ago, right when the semester started.”

“Really? Huh.” That was a potential clue for Dean. He wasn’t sure why the monster would wait almost two months, but maybe there was something related.

“All right, well, if you think of anything, please let me know, okay?”

“I,.. yeah, I will.”

Dean took one look at her and knew she wasn’t going to. He had the feeling she was suspicious about him, but that was nothing new. He just really, really wished he could ask her out for some drinks and then—

God. He really needed to get laid.

She escorted him to the door and shut it firmly behind him. He had a few options, none of them easy. He debated tracking down where the previous missing persons were last seen, but that meant leaving Y/N unguarded. If Sam hadn’t been an idiot, he could’ve done the investigating while Dean played bodyguard.

In the end, Dean parked the Impala out of sight of the apartment complex while giving him sufficient view to keep Y/N safe. And waited.

It took hours. Painfully long hours. Dean was going insane at the wait. But his patience—pfft, what patience?—was rewarded. He saw something, someone, lurking about the complex. He sat up, squinted in the dim lighting.

Oh yeah, there was definitely something there. He grabbed his gun with one hand and the flashlight in the other, and went running.

The drawback of having to park far was that by the time he reached the building, the thing broke into Y/N’s apartment. Broken glass and wood splinters was everywhere, and he cursed up a storm.

Just as he burst through the shattered doorway, he heard Y/N screaming. Without a thought, Dean jumped over the overturned coffee table and saw it—them.

She was actually pushing the monster back, punching and kicking, which won a glint of Dean’s respect, and he got a good view of it: vampire, from the looks of the fangs.

“Hey, ugly!”

The vampire—God, those fangs were nothing like those from movies—turned to see Dean and snarled. It grabbed the girl, shit, and all but flung her into Dean,

Unwilling to let her crash into the coffee table, Dean caught her and went limp as they went down. More wood shattered and he grunted while she cried out, more out of fear than actual injury, he’d wager.

Normally Dean would be all about having a girl on top—maybe even quip that joke—but he had the wind knocked out of him. Just as he tried to shove the girl out of his arms, he saw the vampire leave with a hiss, running out the door.

“Shit,” he cursed, scrambled to his feet and rushed out the door.

Too late.

It was gone.

“Dammit!” His back was aching, his lungs were sore, and he had nothing to pay for it. With more profanities under his breath, he came back inside the apartment.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, going over to the girl to help her get up.

“No, I’m not okay! What the hell was that?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he said.

“Try me,” she said, dusting off her rear. God, what a nice ass.

“All right. It’s a vampire.”

She froze, and stared at Dean. “Excuse me?”

He grinned lopsidedly. “Told ya you wouldn’t believe me.”

“You’re right. I don’t. Vampires aren’t real,” she insisted, ignoring the trembling of her hands. Vampires might not be real, but she also knew what she saw: some man with what looked to be monstrous teeth.

“Then explain what you just saw,” he challenged. He marveled at her composure. Not many would be this calm after having had their home broken into and being nearly fed on.

“I…” She stopped. She couldn’t. Not really.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” Dean raked his fingers through his hair and let out a breath. “Listen. It isn’t safe to stay here.”

She glanced at Dean, then deliberately looked over at her busted front door. “No shit, Sherlock.”

He grinned. She had fire. He liked that. “You got any place to stay?” he asked, wildly tempted to offer her a motel room and then share it with her.

“N-no…” She bit her lip. “Nothing local. I’m from California.”

He paused and arched a brow. “No kidding’? Why’d you come here?”

“Veterinary school. One of the best and I wanted to get out of the state for a bit.” She paused, then shook her head. “Real smart of me.”

Dean actually felt bad for her. No doubt she wanted to experience a bit of the country, get out of her hometown, and just do the usual college kid thing to do. Instead, her neighbors go missing and she was attacked in her apartment. What a life.

“Okay, well… can you stay at a motel?” he asked.

“I don’t have any money,” she said ruefully. “I can’t…” God, she doubted the landlord had a spare door even if she called him about the break-in. It’d take time, and it wouldn’t be safe.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean insisted. “It’s on me.”

“I am not having sex with you,” she said.

She was so blunt Dean actually did a double-take and laughed. “I wasn’t even going there,” he said with a wry grin. “Look. I’m a hunter, okay? I hunt the supernatural. I’m just helping out here, okay?”

She frowned, wary. He did save her, she had to admit. Could have left her there and chased it down. Even left her to deal with a broken door, the late night police call, everything, all on her own.

“I… o-okay. Can I grab some stuff first?”

“Yeah, go do that. I’ll call the police for you so you got it on file, okay?” That way the landlord’s insurance would cover damages, get her door replaced.

It took an hour, some manipulation of the truth, and then Dean and Y/N were heading to the nearest Motel 6. He ended up having to take her in his car as she didn’t have one. She walked to the college or took the bus, which was why she lived so close by the university.

It felt awkward and weird to ask for two rooms—she insisted, as she wasn’t comfortable sharing a room with a total stranger—but Dean was willing to roll with it. Just chalked it up to a weird case all around.

He was yanking off his boots when he heard a knock at the door. Puzzled, he peered through the peephole and saw her outside his door. He’d be damned lucky if she wanted sex after all. Celebration of life and all that crap.

He was crestfallen a moment later when he opened the door.

“What did you mean, you hunt monsters?”

Damn pornos and their fake stories. He stepped aside to let her in and shut the door. “Just what I said. I hunt monsters.”

“But… monsters aren’t real,” she insisted. For a moment she seemed small and vulnerable. Dean felt an inkling of compassion, wanted to comfort her. He held back, shoved his hands in his coat pockets.

“I know it’s easier to believe that, but they’re real. Vampires, werewolves, Wendigo, ghosts, all that crap.”

“I-if they were real, why isn’t it common knowledge? Why hasn’t the government done anything about them?”

She was trying hard to logic her way through it. Determined chick. “Well, regarding common knowledge… people like to believe that the world isn’t that bad. That there aren’t monsters that go bump in the night. It’s easier to believe they hallucinated and forget it ever happened.”

She regarded Dean dubiously. “And the government?”

“Now that I can’t tell ya. I don’t know. I never met a Man in Black so I’d have to guess they’re a little busy dealing with other shit.” He scratched at his chin.

He could tell by the look in her eyes that she was more than a little freaked out. She wasn’t sure how to reconcile what happened, what she saw.

“How do… what am I supposed to do?” She sank down at the edge of the motel bed, wrapped her arms around herself.

“What do you mean?” He joined her on the bed, maintained a polite distance between them. God she smelled good. Like white jasmine.

“I just can’t go back to class pretending I never saw a vampire,” she said, her brows drawn. “Or that my neighbors weren’t attacked and eaten by them.”

Dean cleared his throat, uncertain how to approach her situation. He rarely bothered talking to one of the potential victims this long before. Other hunts he just tracked down and killed, leaving the authorities to deal with the mess. It wasn’t as if John walked him through this shit.

“Well, uh, I guess it’s up to you,” he said honestly. “I’m gonna find this vamp and take it down. That should solve the problem.”

“For this one, sure,” she said, and glanced at Dean. “But what about next time? I mean, you said ghosts?”

“Yep. Unhappy spirits. Demons. You name it, we’ve dealt with them.”

“I don’t…” she trailed off. She looked so lost, Dean felt it in his heart. He had a rather good idea of how she felt, given his exposure to the supernatural at a tender young age.

Ever since Mary died, ever since he saw his mother burning on the ceiling and his father tasking him to keep Sam safe, Dean’s innocence had been lost. He became cynical at a very young age. To him, life was hunting monsters and keeping Sam safe.

Sam was gone now. All that was left was the hunt.

“Take some time to think on it, Y/N,” he said at last, knowing it was awful advice but he had nothing else to offer.

“But I have class tomorrow. How am I supposed to act?”

He bit his lower lip. “Maybe don’t go. We don’t know why this vampire was targeting you and your neighbors.”

“Miss class? Are you insane?”

“What? It’s just class,” he scoffed.

She stared at him. “You’ve never been to college, have you?”

“Nope.” His cocky grin spoke volumes. “Kinda wish I had though. College chicks are hot.”

She rolled her eyes. “College is expensive. Me getting a scholarship to pay for my tuition was a miracle. I can’t afford to fail.”

“Well, it’s not safe for you to go until I catch that vampire,” he argued. God, this chick was stubborn.

Her expression hardened. “I’m not missing class, Dean.”

She won the argument. Damn chick was stubborn as hell. Dean agreed to a compromise: she went to class, he followed her everywhere while doing as many phone calls as he could achieve. Then went absolutely stir crazy while he waited.

She had two classes, which were a good couple of hours long. Then she used the computer lab to do her homework. All in all, he spent about eight hours there.

On the way back, they stopped at her apartment to meet with the landlord. Dean whipped out his fake ID again.

“So you’re saying the annual inspection is unrelated to the disappearances,” Dean said, pressing on the landlord hard. He wasn’t the vampire, but he acted strangely. Didn’t seem to care that someone busted down a door or that four of his tenants went missing.

“That’s right,” the landlord said, his expression hard and shuttered. “I don’t like your implications. Who’s your supervisor?”

“Nunya,” Dean said, annoyed. “Look. Four people are missing and your last remaining tenant got attacked. You’re saying you don’t give a shit?”

“I’m saying I don’t care as long as bills are paid. I’ve already notified the next of kin to come get their belongings. I’m replacing the door. What else do you want me to do?” The landlord was of height to Dean, and glared at him.

Dean wished he could throw down with this jerk. Uncooperative bastard. There was something off about the guy, but Dean couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Fine! What about a security system then?” Dean challenged. “I’m not leaving Y/N to get attacked again!”

“That’s your problem, son!”

Right then and there, Dean very nearly clobbered the guy. Y/N grabbed his arm, hastily saying his name. “Dean… Dean! Stop!”

Dean threw her a furious look, his green eyes dark. He was absolutely disliking how this asshole was approaching the situation. He was not about to leave Y/N alone without something better than a door to keep her safe.

“Thank you, Mr. Smith,” Y/N said calmly. “I appreciate the door being replaced.”

The landlord scoffed, glared at Dean and muttered something about how it’d be replaced within the hour. And left. She waited a moment, then turned on Dean in a fury.

“What is wrong with you?!”

“Me? That jackass is a part of this, I’m damned sure of it! And he’s just leaving you to get killed!” Dean wanted to punch something. Or kick. Preferably the landlord.

“If that’s how you treat human beings, I hate to see how you handle harmless monsters,” she shot back.

“Sweetheart, there aren’t any harmless monsters,” he said, wrenching his arm free of her grip.

“That you know of,” she challenged. God, this chick was going to give him a headache. Wait. He was already getting one.

“Christ. What are you, some monster version of PETA?”

She took a deep breath, contemplated slapping him, and counted to ten. Then, mustering as much calm as she could, she fixed a look on Dean. “Look. He can’t do anything else, okay? So what… what can we do?”

In that moment it took everything he had to not joke about fucking. She’d probably hit him. He cleared his throat, calmed down his temper if not his libido. “God. Uh. Okay.” He rubbed his scalp, let out a huff. “Okay. Great. He’s fixing the door. That’s still not gonna keep you safe.”

“Then what? W-what about crucifixion? Holy water?”

“Unfortunately, sweetheart, that’s all Hollywood. Not gonna work.” He let out a breath. God, he deserved Sainthood for what he was about to do. “I can stay with you. Play bodyguard until I catch the vamp.”

“Excuse me?” She looked so offended, Dean wasn’t sure how to take that. He wasn’t ugly, come on. He also liked to think he wasn’t that bad in bed. His flings and one-night stands didn’t seem to complain. Yeesh.

“I can stay here,” he said slowly, enunciating carefully. “I’ll crash on your couch. Play bodyguard.”

“For how long?!”

“For however long it takes! Do you want to die?!” he shot back. He was so frustrated, he was absolutely about to lose it.

“Well, no! No one wants to die!” She threw her hands in the air. “This is a studio apartment, Dean! Ever heard of privacy?!”

Dean counted to ten. Then again. Nope, he wasn’t calm. Not this time. “Look,” he said, his anger heavily restrained. “This isn’t exactly what I was hopin’ to do, sweetheart. I was hoping to just come here, kill some monsters, and go on my merry way. Not play babysitter!”

“Well then, go ahead! Leave!” She flung a hand to the door, glaring at him. She stood there for long moments, waiting almost impatiently. “Well?!”

“Jesus Christ, you’re annoying! Look, I’m not leaving you here to get killed, Y/N!” He stormed up to her, almost nose to nose. God, he had problems all right if he found this ridiculously hot. “So suck it up, I’m crashing on your couch!”

Sparks were almost flying from her eyes, she was so damned pissed. She let out an angry grunt, spin on her heels and stalked into her bathroom. The door slammed behind her a moment later. He heard a yell of frustration after that and almost did the same himself.

“I’m grabbing stuff from my car! Don’t go anywhere!” he yelled out to the bathroom. He heard something that was undoubtedly profanities. He grinned. “Definitely my kind of girl,” he said with a chuckle, and headed out the doorway.

He popped the trunk, and then the hidden floor for what he’d need. Machete, his gun and— He never finished that thought as something hard smashed his head into the trunk and flung him to the ground. Dazed, he could barely focus as he saw something head into Y/N’s apartment. “No…” he groaned, unable to get up. His head was spinning too hard.

Barely seconds later, he heard something smash inside followed by a scream, this time full of fear. He heard his name. It was Y/N. She was screaming for him. “Come on… get up…” He struggled, rolled over, and nearly fell flat on his face. Just as he was pushing his way up, trying to control the sudden nausea that came from his head injury, a booted pair of feet came into his line of sight.

That was the last thing he saw before his face was kicked in.

Dean wasn’t proud of himself. He tracked down Mr. Smith, all but beat the shit out of him to find out his link to the vampire. Turned out it was some obscene, whacky slumlord scheme, all to get him money while the vampire feasts like a king. How it was never revealed before, Dean had no idea—and didn’t give a damn. He had to find Y/N.

John might object to how Dean handled it, but, well, his father wasn’t there. Sam would be too tender-hearted, maybe. Dean would do it again, if he had to. He failed Y/N, after all. Let the damned vampire get up behind him and knock him silly. It was damned embarrassing. John would probably lecture him on letting his guard down.

He probably wouldn’t tell his father, nope. Not up to proving his father he was a disappointment… again.

Regardless, he found out where the vampire was taking Y/N. The vamp took her and his other victims to some abandoned farm silo west of West Lafayette in some middle of bum-fucking-nowhere Indiana. Some little dinky town called Oxford.

He navigated down the streets, mindful of the unlit streets. “God, did these people never hear of street lights?” he grumbled, not wanting to wreck Baby on some goddamned pothole he didn’t see. Eventually asphalt gave way to gravel to dirt. He just about had a nightmare over the sheer cleaning he’d have to do of the Impala after all this was done.

When he finally saw the silo, he cut the engine and coasted a few more feet. He didn’t want to risk the vampire knowing he was there. As it was, he was sincerely and truly hoping Y/N was still alive. She was tough, she had fire, but the vampire had paranormal strength.

God, he’d love to ask her out after this. Given his luck though, she’d probably ask him to go the hell away and never bother her again.

He crept up to the silo, machete in hand, his gun in the back of his jeans. As he got closer, he started to hear voices, screaming. One of them was definitely feminine, afraid, in pain. Y/N. His heartbeat picked up as he hurried, heedless of any noise he was making.

A faint mist clung to the ground, swirling around the boots of the lone, young hunter. His knuckles were white, his breathing measured but tense, as he entered the silo. It was so dark, the moonlight barely illuminating the intricate interior.

Across from him, the vampire emerged from the shadows, its pale skin gleaming in the moonlight. Blood-red eyes pierce through the gloom, and a cruel smile spreads across its face.

“You came all this way, just to die?” the vampire hissed, its voice a low, mocking growl.

“One of us is dyin’ tonight,” Dean replied, tightening his grip on the machete. “And it ain’t me."

The vampire darted forward, a blur of movement too fast for the human eye. The young man anticipated the attack, swinging the machete in a wide arc. The blade whistled through the air, narrowly missing the vampire’s neck as it twisted to the side with inhuman grace.

“You’ll need to be faster than that,” the vampire taunted, its voice now behind him.

Dean spun, slashing upward. The machete grazed the vampire’s arm, drawing a thin line of dark blood. The creature snarled, its fangs glinting like daggers.

The vampire lunged, its fingers aimed for Dean’s throat. He ducked just in time, rolling to the side.

“You're surprisingly quick,” the vampire admitted, circling its prey. “But you’re tiring. I can hear your heartbeat slowing. Smell the sweat of your fear.”

Dean didn’t reply, his chest heaving as he strategized. He knew he had only one chance—one clean strike.

The vampire leaped again, this time coming from above. Dean raised the machete, catching the monster mid-jump. The blade bit deep into its side, sending it crashing to the ground with an unearthly scream.

But it’s not enough.

The vampire rose, the wound knitting itself together before Dean’s eyes. It smirked. “That all you got?”

Desperation fueled Dean’s next move. He feinted left, then swung hard to the right, aiming for the neck. The vampire, too confident, didn’t anticipate the feint. The machete connected with sickening force, burying itself deep in the creature’s throat.

For a moment, silence reigns. The vampire stumbled, its hands clawing at the blade embedded in its neck. Dark blood poured from the wound.

Dean didn’t hesitate. With a roar, he yanked the machete free and swung again, severing the vampire’s head in a single, brutal stroke.

The headless body collapsed, twitching once before going still. The head rolled to a stop, its crimson eyes staring lifelessly at the ceiling.

Dean wiped the sweat and blood from his face, looking down at the vampire’s remains. “Told you,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

The fight was over, but the scars—both physical and mental—were just beginning to form.

He had no time to worry about that. He dropped the machete, ignoring it for now, and went in search of Y/N.

Dean found Y/N, freed her from the bindings. He also found the bodies of the missing people. He called 9-1-1 and reported the discovery before disappearing. He hated doing that to Y/N, but she needed the ambulance, the police, more than she needed him.

It would be hours later that he returned to her studio apartment. Her door was restored; good. He wouldn’t have to beat the landlord again, or try to do it himself. He saw her light on, so he knew she was home. Even so… he hesitated.

“Come on, man,” he whispered to himself. He knocked on her door and waited.

The outside light flickered on and he called up his best smile, unaware that it looked nervous and sickly more than confident. After a moment, Y/N cracked opened the door and peeked through the slit. “Dean…?”

“Hey. Uh. How’re you doing? Oh God,” he added in a whisper under his breath. He felt so fucking stupid. He saw her smile and he relaxed marginally. “Sorry for leavin’ you like that, but I had to. There’d be too many questions and—”

“Dean, shut up and come on in,” she said, stepping aside and opening the door. He hesitated, then stepped inside, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m glad you came back. I… wanted to thank you.”

“Uh, thank me? For what?”

She wrinkled her brow at him. “For saving my life,” she said, as though it should be obvious.

“I didn’t… but you got…” Great. Just great. His charm died with the vampire.

But she was smiling. “Thanks. I… really. Thank you.” Her smile fell, and out of the damned blue, she slapped him.

Dean’s head rocked to the side and he very nearly spun around. He caught himself, wiggled his jaw with his hand and stared at her. “What the hell?!”

“That was for abandoning me!” Then she grabbed the collar of his coat and pulled him into a searingly hot kiss. Dean’s brain froze. Just… froze. His libido popped out of the box and wondered if it was finally going to be freed. Then she let him go, breathing a bit heavily. “And that was for saving me.”

“Um…” Come on brain. Come on. Work! “You’re… welcome.”

She smiled, a bit shy, a bit amused at his reaction. “You can go now, Dean.”

“Yeah. Sure….” Damn. College girls can kiss!

Tag List: @spxideyver, @deadlymistletoe, @bitchykittenconnoisseur, @aarpfashionvictim, @stoneyggirl2

@foxyjwls007, @katastrophicmind, @globetrotter28

(If you do not want to be tagged for this Supernatural fic, please let me know and I'll remove you in future postings! If you want to be added, please let me know and I will!)

Edited: Fixed some paragraphs I accidentally copy-pasted twice from my Word doc!

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flowerandblood · 1 year ago

Text

Blame | Betray | Bliss

[ modern! • Aemond x stepsister! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, oral sex, angst, smut, kind of incest but not really, mention of marital infidelity, orgasm denial ]

[ description: After they both run away they have to face the consequences of their choice. Aemond, in a gesture of desperation, asks for help from the last person from whom he would expect any reaction, and Criston wants his daughter back, believing that it is all one big, cruel misunderstanding. The power of angst, ironic, protective, bitchy Aemond. Anon request. ]

Series & Characters Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

Driving through the dark night after what they had done, after what they had said, he felt both terror and excitement at the same time − he had the feeling that he had ended something, that he had freed himself from a situation and a place that was making him a worse and worse person.

From the very beginning they had talked about what they would do after this and he had formed a plan in his head, which although it had seemed very good to him at the time, now left him with a lot of doubts.

He no longer had any other choice.

He ran his hand over his face and, on the screen on his dashboard, went into his contact list and selected his father's number − they heard the loud sound of a call, which went on and on until, after a while, he answered with a hoarse voice, clearly sleepy.

"Aemond? Son, is something wrong?"

He pressed his lips together, trying not to cry, thinking that since he had lost his eye he had never been more vulnerable.

"Dad −" He started, but his voice trembled; he swallowed loudly feeling the tears under his eyelids, feeling the tightness in his throat, feeling the same as that day, lying in the hospital.

"Dad, I need your help. Can I come to you?"

He was horrified by how helpless and pathetic his voice sounded, her hand clasped tightly in his, he felt her looking at him, felt her crying too.

There was silence on the other side.

"Yes… yes, of course, are you okay?" He asked quickly, terrified, and he stopped at the side of the road, feeling he couldn't see anything anymore.

He covered his face with his hand, trying to calm himself, breathing deeply, thinking only of the warmth of her skin, her thumb stroking the back of his hand.

"No…I'll come to you with someone, okay?"

"When can I expect you?"

They showed up at his father's house after twenty minutes − he lived in a suburb on the complete other side of town.

They got out of the car shakily, taking their backpacks with the things they had managed to pack quickly, and Viserys came out to meet them − he seemed even older and even more dying to him, pale, his short hair completely white, limping on one leg and leaning on a cane.

He thought with pain that he didn't fit into this huge, modern house in which he was left completely alone.

He furrowed his brow noticing his red cheek, seeing that they both must have been crying a moment ago, that they were pale and terrified.

"Please, don't ask. Not today." He said quietly, strangely weak, sighing.

His father glanced at the girl standing next to him − he grasped her hand gently, stroking her soft skin with his thumb.

"That's my girlfriend, Dad."

He did not explain to him who she was or how they had met; he only revealed to him that he couldn't live with his mother for a while and that they needed a few days to work out what to do next.

By the time they entered the room where he lived as a child it was four in the morning, and they had to turn off their phones so they wouldn't see any missed calls from Criston and his mother.

He knew that even if she guessed where they had gone, his mother would be embarrassed to come to his father's house with her lover and that it gave them some time − they were both of age, so he hoped they wouldn't completely fuck off and get the police involved.

He didn't share his thoughts with his stepsister, instead pulling her to him as they lay on his bed; seeing her shivering he cuddled her into him, letting out a loud breath − all around them at last blissful silence, outside the window the first chirping of birds heralding a new day.

He thought that for once he would get his father to side with him, to let them stay with him until they finished their studies and found jobs, that their lives would be honest and without betrayal, without lies, without feigned innocence.

"I love you." He whispered stroking her hair, snuggled into her with his whole body, her face hidden in his neck, her hands on his chest, her figure seeking refuge in his arms.

He heard her swallow loudly at his words, tightening her fingers on his sweatshirt.

"I love you too." She mumbled out as if relieved, as if she understood in that moment that it wasn't all for nothing.

That they had done it not to get revenge on them.

That they just wanted to be together.

His mother did not call his father until the next day, apparently treating him as a last resort, not believing that he would find out anything − her surprise must have been great when Viserys told her that her child and his girlfriend had just had lunch with him.

They looked at him anxiously, horrified when the expression on his face changed − he furrowed his brow as if he had just analysed what he had heard.

His mother had obviously explained to him whose daughter his girlfriend was.

Viserys grunted after deep thought.

"Well, Alicent, they're of age and, from what I understand, you haven't managed to marry your still recent bodyguard in those few months. According to that, in the eyes of the law − and to my knowledge − they are complete strangers to each other, young people in love. My son wants to live with me and she wants to live with him, so it is not a kidnapping. I don't know what to tell you. As if to say − it's not our problem." He said and hung up, putting the phone down; he looked at him thoughtfully, but his words were not directed to him, but to his girlfriend.

"Will you leave us alone, my dear? I would like to talk alone with my son." He said calmly. She threw him a frightened look and he nodded, so she got up on trembling legs and went upstairs.

They were silent for a very long moment.

"I need to know, Aemond." He started at last, looking blankly at his plate. "I need to know why you're doing this."

He looked at him simultaneously surprised and bewildered, having never had a serious conversation with him before − he twisted in his seat and swallowed loudly, tapping his finger against the top of the wooden table in an involuntary, nervous gesture.

"What do you mean?" He asked him coolly, licking his lower lip with his tongue, looking down at his hands, feeling his heart pounding fast.

"You and Cole's daughter. Why?"

He shrugged his shoulders, feeling like a small child who had to explain to a parent why he had accidentally broken a vase.

He felt like he was shrinking, even though he had told himself all his life that his opinion didn't matter to him, he was suddenly afraid of what he would think of him.

"I don't know. I'm just…" He sighed heavily, running his hand over his face. "…I'm just happy with her, Dad. She's the only one who understands me. She's the only one who can comfort me or reassure me. Why should I give that up? Because they will be uncomfortable?" He asked angrily, feeling a burning wetness under his eyelids.

"They didn't care if I was going to be uncomfortable, if you were going to be uncomfortable, if she was going to be uncomfortable when they started fucking each other. They got a taste of true love and built their happiness on lying to their loved ones for years, fucking great. Maybe I'm fucked up and mentally ill, I don't know, but at least I'm not a fucking liar and hypocrite. I took what I wanted and I won't apologise for it. Her place is with me. I've already decided."

There was a heavy silence between them that seemed to last him an eternity, but for some reason he felt relieved when he got it all out. His father grunted loudly.

"So I understand that you are thinking seriously about her. Good. At least now I know what to tell your mother."

Criston and Alicent appeared outside his father's house after about twenty minutes, however no one came out to meet them − when they knocked on the door his father opened it for them.

They stood in the distance, his girlfriend snuggled into him, terrified − he kissed the top of her head, tense.

"Don't be afraid. I won't give you back. Hm?" He whispered tenderly, leaning over her to see the look on her face, and she nodded, fear and trust in her big, bright eyes, her body pressed tightly against his.

Criston standing in his house, pale and panicked at seeing his father for the first time when his affair with his mother came to light was a sight from which he felt wild satisfaction. He knew his father had no intention of making anything easy for them − he looked at him with a smile of superiority from which he bit his lip, furious, his mother staring at him pleadingly.

"I came for my daughter. What you did was kidnapping." He said coolly, and he chuckled under his breath, shaking his head with amusement, his gaze cold and full of disapproval.

"My girlfriend wants to live with me of her own free will." He murmured teasingly, feeling her fingers tighten tighter on his black T-shirt, his large hand stroking her back with a reassuring, affectionate gesture.

"Honey, please, let's end this madness." He directed his words to her, trying not to explode, but she shook her head quickly.

"I − I want a break Dad. From you and from Mum. I want to stay here. With Aemond and with his dad. To focus on my studies again, instead of being constantly reminded of what happened." She said in a trembling voice, Criston snorted, furious.

"He told you to say that, didn't he?"

He opened his mouth to reply something, but she let go of him and turned towards her father with despair in her eyes.

"He didn't tell me to say anything! Do you understand? Never! He asked me three times if I was sure I wanted it before we slept together. Yes, Dad, don't look at me like that!" She shouted in a trembling voice seeing the tears in his eyes, herself on the verge of crying.

"You made an angel out of me in your mind, an ignorant innocent child. Do you think I found out about what you were doing from my mother? That I didn't hear you talking to Alicent on the phone when my mother wasn't there, that I didn't hear you leaving home in the middle of the night when you thought I was asleep? I knew EVERYTHING and I had to pretend for so many years, Dad, God, please, just give me a break, I can't take it anymore."

She mumbled hiding her face in her hands and burst out sobbing − he grabbed her by her arm and pulled her close, embracing her in his arms.

Criston shook his head, distraught and pale, turned and walked out, closing the door behind him. Alicent looked at them in disbelief and swallowed hard.

"Bring their things here, Alicent." Viserys said, turning away from her and walking back into the living room as if nothing had happened, clearly tired of standing already.

That night they lay together in his single bed snuggled together, just stroking and looking at each other − it seemed more intimate to him than anything they had done before, so close, tender and full of affection.

They fell asleep cuddled into each other, feeling for the first time in years that they had decided their own fate, that they had freed themselves from what had poisoned their minds for so long.

That they were free.

The next few days were surprisingly peaceful for them and although they both felt they had to put their lives back together, they did not despair or cry any more. Alicent brought them most of their belongings the next day, which they needed immediately without the company of Criston, who could not accept what his daughter had told him.

She had suffered because of it, but when he asked her about it she told him that she had had enough of his expectations of her and of everyone around her, which, however, he clearly did not have to uphold towards himself.

It took longer to drive downtown from his father's house and they had to get up much earlier in the morning − they shared tasks, one of them made tea and coffee, the other made sandwiches and scrambled eggs. His father slept late so they were not disturbed, they could sit together on the sofa, embracing each other and watching the morning news.

No one bothered them, they didn't have to explain themselves to anyone.

However, he had no intention of losing contact with Daeron through all of this, and forced his father to fight for him as his parent, so that his little brother would come over to visit them at weekends.

When he finally succeeded and Alicent brought him, albeit reluctantly, on the Friday after his classes his brother threw himself into his arms crying and despairing, asking him how they could have left him there alone.

He felt a squeeze in his throat and tears in his eyes, not knowing what to answer him − he promised that he could come and see them every weekend, that he could always call them if he needed to.

He glanced at them amused from the side as Daeron and she watched funny videos together on the internet, which he said he had to show her because he thought she would definitely like them and had saved them especially for her.

It was their secret and he was excluded from looking at it as someone who would not understand this kind of content.

Daeron, to his slight jealousy focused all her attention and amused her late into the evening by telling her about his adventures at school and the friend she had apparently won his heart.

He picked him up and carried him to his old room when he fell asleep, then returned to her to finally have her all to himself.

They ordered a bigger, more comfortable double bed, where they could finally get a decent night's sleep and explored each other's bodies with more tenderness and peace, without the fear of having to hurry up and run away.

It made him spend long hours with his face sunk in the heat between her thighs, taking unspeakable, savage satisfaction in her reactions, in how sensitive she was to his slightest touch.

He sucked and caressed her pearl with his lips only to sink his tongue deep inside her again a moment later, licking her sweet spot from the inside, teasing her, stopping the moment he felt she was already on the verge of orgasm.

She quivered and wriggled beneath him, trembling all over, once again in just a few minutes being so close to fulfillment, on her legs those wonderful, long, slutty wool socks he loved, under whose material he slipped his fingers, clenching them on the soft skin of her thighs.

"− please −" She mewled pathetically in a way from which a smirk appeared on his face − he hummed under his breath, running his tongue gently over her hot, leaking folds, licking what had flowed out of her.

"− I know − you are doing so well − can you hold out for me a little longer? − hm? −" He asked tenderly, running the tip of his nose over her swollen, sore clit. She sobbed quietly, breathing loudly, her hands clasped in his hair.

"− I can't − too much − please, I need this −" She mumbled with her eyes closed, her gorgeous, full lips parted sweetly, her body before him trembling and vulnerable.

His.

He licked his lower lip looking at her intently and sighed heavily, rising to his knees, with a light movement of his fingers unbuttoning his trousers, shaking his head disapprovingly.

"− greedy little thing − need my cock inside you so fucking badly? −" He asked with a hint of accusation and displeasure, from which she looked at him with a pained expression, as if she was ashamed that she was so desperate − she nodded with a face so innocent and sad that he felt like bursting out laughing.

"− I'm sorry −" She babbled out with genuine regret from which he snorted under his breath as he leaned over her and ran the tip of his nose over her cheek.

"− there, there − spread your thighs wide − that's it, that's my good girl −" He cooed, guiding with his palm the head of his swollen, throbbing cock, so eager to take her to her heat. She swallowed loudly and moaned as she felt his length begin to push into her fleshy interior.

"− Aemond −" She mewled tightening her fingers on his back with an expression of delight on her face − he slid all the way into her and clamped his hand over her cheeks, forcing her to look up at him.

"− not like that − want to get your bottom smacked? −" He growled, and she shook her head quickly, her accelerated, warm breath enveloping his face, her gaze hazy and dreamy.

"− n-no, big brother − please, just fuck me already −" She choked out with difficulty, and he chuckled under his breath, pressing his lips against hers in a brutal, sticky kiss, driving his tongue deep into her throat, holding her jaw firmly in his fingers, letting her taste herself, not moving inside her even a little.

She moaned into his mouth writhing beneath him, sliding her hands down to his buttocks, trying to move her hips in pathetic desperation and rubbing herself with it where she needed it, but his large hand clenched on her thigh warningly − he pulled away from her with a loud click, looking at her with furrowed brows.

"− stop, or I won't let you come − haven't you learned fucking patience yet? −" He hissed; she looked at him in horror and stopped moving, twitching all over, looking at him with big eyes.

He hummed under his breath placing his hands on either side of her head and slid out of her almost all the way only to open her wide again on his cock, throbbing and aching with arousal.

He licked his lips as he heard her sweet, quiet moan of pleasure − she restrained herself with difficulty not to move her thighs while his hips imposed a painfully steady, slow pace on her.

"− that's it − we will take it slow − I had to share you for a whole fucking day − I want to enjoy my little girl − hm? −" He whispered and she nodded, blushing, her one hand from his buttocks rising to his cheek and stroking it tenderly, drawing a quiet sigh of contentment from him.

"− I'm only yours −" She mumbled and he groaned low with contentment at her words, their bodies involuntarily began to slam against each other, reaching out to meet again, each thrust of his hips followed by a loud smack and click of her juices.

They both began to pant, their lips clinging to each other, the tips of their tongues teasing each other in lewd, sticky kisses.

"− do you want me to touch you down there, kid? − my little sister wants to come? −" He cooed into her mouth between one greedy kiss and the next, and she nodded quickly, a puff of relief escaping her lips, as if she had only dreamt of it.

"− yes, brother − please − please −" She begged, and he was unable to deny her.

He gasped lowly as he felt her clench on him from all sides, he had to move faster and more violently inside her to allow him to penetrate her as deeply as he wanted.

His hand slid between her thighs, collecting her wetness, and with intense, sure movements began to press the space around her clit, her head tilted back in a helpless moan.

"− cum for me − be a good little sister and cum on your brother's cock −" He breathed out, his thighs slapping against her buttocks again and again until her walls clenched tightly against him, waves of fulfilment passed through her body, his lips pressed against hers to muffle her loud moans and whimpers, keeping her pressed firmly against his bed.

He shuddered all over and sighed deeply, closing his eyes as he let go at last and felt his hot semen spill inside her, with helpless, sloppy movements of his hips pushing it as deep into her as possible.

"− just like that − fuck, baby − ohhh God −" He babbled dulled by his own pleasure, by how wonderful it felt to be inside her.

He snuggled up to her and her hands immediately embraced him, their sweaty bodies sticking to each other, he could feel her hard nipples on his bare chest, pressing against his skin with every breath she took.

"− you did so well for me − my sweet little girl −" He praised her placing soft, butterfly kisses on her hot cheek, her fingers combing through his hair making a purr of delight escape his throat.

They looked at each other, tired and breathless, running their hands over each other's bodies, breathing heavily − they kissed loudly with some kind of relief and fulfilment from which he felt hot in his chest. He stroked her hair and smiled, her eyes shining in amusement.

"What?" She asked quietly, embarrassed, thinking that he was obviously laughing at her. He hummed under his breath, running his thumb over her cheek.

"Marry me."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

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moongoopy · 9 months ago

Text

no way out

cont: reader has lost about everything so why not lose themselves too?

c/w: reader has anxiety and depression, dubcon, reader getting kidnapped, yandere characters, reader is an artist, death (not reader or the duo), dark content, family problems, blood, reader constantly relapses from self harm, manipulation, harassment (not from duo)

a/n: damn thats crazy. funny how i end it almost the same like my other scenario lolololol, reqs open!

c: geto x reader x gojo

it was the last year of college and it was like you slaved away at your school work that it was numbing to even do your hobbies.

the light in you was dying that your heart should've stopped years ago.

no parties can save you.

you threw away the invitation for the college party, everything was blur to you. too much responsibility on your shoulders and no shoulder to cry on, your roommate no less too busy with his own life to go fuck himself over some girl he broke up with and you slip away everytime you were close to talking to him. he wouldn't listen anyways, head too busy in the clouds as he loses himself again.

the miscalls from your family didn't bother you anymore, it was aggravating to text them back everytime they remembered you so you pretend such a nuisance doesn't exist until it's too late.

"atleast pretend to care"

you told yourself in the mirror, eye twitching from your toothbrush that fall at your feet when your hand collided with the sink. you were worse for wear, eyebags getting darker as you thumbed through social media and letting a few minutes pass before picking up the brush.

instead of calling back, you left a long line of texts with another brand new line of excuses to shut them up with a bunch of emojis for some normalcy. you cleaned up the brush before applying another line of toothpaste onto it and slumped, remembering how money was also running low. thankfully, you didn't share money with your roommate or anything but inflation was upon us.

no way you wanted to ask from your family. they fared well but it was like a hit list on how much you'd ask them and that when you get back home, they'll use it against you and scream in your face while you're strung up limbly like a doll by not responding at all. a response is asking for a fight, no response is to defuse their thoughts by letting them pile ontop of you until they move onto another thing to complain about.

you nearly choke at the taste of blood and pulled away from your toothbrush, red coated your tongue and the gums of your teeth before they quickly get washed off including your grimy face.

another shower may do you good before you worry more about other things. should it be saving up more money or that you haven't come to work for two days now?

oh, this is killing you, why couldn't you just turn the cutter towards your neck? you'd sob so loudly when the blood on your thighs washes over and the cuts burn and twist your skin in and out that you desperately grabbed onto the shower walls. staring down at your scars that barely heal, you made sure to pick pants that wouldn't bother your battered skin. your mind lingers again, the pressure of the water against your head calmer than the caress of your mother's hand combing through your hair.

how did it went downhill in your life?

the folks here were seperated into systems of the typical tropes of college but you weren't treated that badly. there were stares and badmouthing but it never harmed you. so college wasn't the problem.

or maybe it was the relative that passed where you bawled so hard over? yet, you'd never really known them, having correlations towards your passion and attitude only. seemingly called a reflection of them by your other family members but the memory of said late relative lingers in your head sometimes like the wax that's left after the flames took it out but it can only be reshaped if you want to.

but you never pried into the past of that relative so it couldn't be.

you lost yourself way before the impending family problems and countless homeworks you had that the addicting press off the cutter felt more like home than home ever was.

no, dont go back there, it wont help.

drying yourself off, you decided you should atleast take the night shift. clothes tossed on, you couldn't slump around this time. you had something due in a week so maybe work was better to focus on at the moment. passing your roommate's room, you nearly stumbled out the door. night was fast aporoaching this time, it made you ill. the sun or the moon was something you could tell apart from the slow days that passed, without it was living like you're dying.

you took the shortcut, a creepy alleyway but if you were quick; you didn't have to deal with any drunkards and steadily walked. you clutched your earphones in your hand as you tried to listem for any noise that can ruin the night and jumped back to somebody that reached out for you.

"hey there..!"

the man drawled, oh god.

he was drunk or rather high with how hard he was clutching something in his hands but nonetheless it creeped you out, you walked hurriedly away from him.

it was amazing on how stupidly quick he was. his eyes were rolling to the back of his head and drool smearing his lips as he pursues you. your sling bag slipped from your arm which was held tight incase you needed to hit him.

the road down was getting slippery just a bit near to the cornerstore where you worked at, you could dissappear through the backdoor incase he gave chase. or was that a bad choice? he'd know where you work at if he remembered a part of you. thats why you didnt want to yell back incase he recognizes it if he scuttles into your work place and do god knows what there. not a lot of people were around at the hours you work at too.

tears spilled from your eyes, you always were the fearful type. thats why you havent died, just the thought of dying was perfect for you but never the action. you could die in this situation, what if he had a knife. you didnt want that. such an unflattering way to die by some weirdo whose name will be forgotteen after a few days of town talk.

you wanted to die but not this, no!

you swerved the corner and you heard the man gasp.. or choke?

you turned back immediately and another man was holding him by the throat, slamming him back on the graffitied wall with a dangerous glare towards the creep.

"get the fuck out of here!" was enough for the man to whimper and cry, running away back to the alleyway and his footsteps faded away slowly but if you just listen a little closer, he was really running for his life in his drunken stupor.

the stranger's fist was a bit bloody, you didnt know where he had hit himself, hell was that even his blood?

"shit, thank you.."

you exhaled sharply, you had held your breath so long eversince you had turned around. your heart beating so fast to what you thought was gonna happen if the creep caught up with you. this white haired stranger smiled widely, a bit too wide for almost beating up a man and walked towards you.

"you okay? theres been a lot more creeps lately. that must've shaken you up, do you need..?"

he opens his arms up to which you shifted akwardly, hand on your arm. should you? he saved your life and you haven't hugged anybody for a while. hell, you needed something to stop your panic and nearly fell right into his arms. he chuckled, rubbing your back in comfort as he fumbles with something in his bag in the other hand.

"where were you headed? i'll take you there. who know what other weirdos are out here."

you nodded slowly, feeling more at ease when both of his arms wrap around you. you wanted to stay in his chest for a while, scent so nice to inhale but you pulled away swiftly. wow, nearly caught yourself being the creep, this was revolting. you haven't felt affection in the longest time that some stranger's arms were what stabilize you, it was almost embarassing. you might as well ask him to bed you with how you nearly nuzzled into him.

you turned around and he slipped his fingers between yours which was a bit peculiar.

he laughed boyishly, putting his hands up defensively.

"sorry, its just instict. im worried about you!"

looking at him again, he was very pretty. such nice lashes fluttering at you as he utters his words and you shook your head almost mechanically. you dont get a lot of nice strangers like this often, it nearly made you feel too relaxed. it was fine, he probably goes through this with other people that walk alone at night and get disturbed by whatever.

"i'm kinda late now to my work.. but its fine, can you back me up?" he did a thumbs up before walking with you, finally turning the corner and seeing the signboard of the convenient shop lit up. you looked up at him, wanting to thank him again before one of his arms slip behind your waist and your vision becomes blurry.

a car drove past, stopping beside the two.

your limbs felt heavy and you started seeing black and he held you close.

"don't worry, i'll do more than back you up."

------------

this was warm. it felt too warm like a mother's womb. or was that a strange way to describe this feeling? maybe it was more thicker than the blankets you had back at your home or maybe it wasn't your blankets at all?

you woke up in a sweat, head aching with great pain as you let your eyes adjust to the dark.

what was going on?

why was the stranger that helped you was here? legs held to his chest as he watches a movie while another stranger combs through your hair and he was so close, you'd nearly scream. chains rattle and your feet feels so cold. you were so disoriented that whatever noise you managed out of you made the stranger from earlier made him whip his head back.

"it's okay, y/n. we'll explain."

he moved so quick that he was right next to you, gripping your chin so suddenly which made you back up. he held onto you by your clothes and it made the fabric stretch, these weren't your clothes either. just what the fuck was going on?! you screeched, tearing away from him and it made the other stranger hold onto the other's wrist.

"satoru, don't act like a hooligan. you're scaring them"

the one named 'satoru' backed off, chuckling and putting his hands up defensively like how he did before except the look in his eyes were so much more carnal than ever before.

"cmon, its natural to get excited to have your plan work out. on such a random night and way more early than your intended timing, suguru?"

it was like a challenge for 'suguru' to bite back but he couldn't care less and looked back at you. it was eerie. his eyes a swirl of purple and such an illusion had you staring back into them which gave him a chance to touch you even more where he adjusted your clothes and patting them back to how it originally look.

"how'd you feel, darling? i'll explain, we three go to same college, remember us?"

you only had to a bunch of people remembered in your head that anymore than that, you dont bother to remember but their names were farmiliar. people do talk about them all the time so would you shake your head or nod? nonetheless, satoru butts in and thumbs your lips.

"so? speak up, your voice's too pretty to just nod as a response~"

you pulled away, a rush of tears rolling down your face at the realisation of how messed up this situation was. two men in this cold room. you were kidnapped. you didn't know whether to scream or bite back when they started cooing and wiping at your tears. it felt so insulting when they talked like you weren't there, you wanted to quale with anger but your eyes snap back to the shackles on your feet. they notice that you knew, suguru shoves his finger onto satoru's lips before he said something else that could trigger you.

"well, sweetheart. i know all of this can be scary but none of this is to hurt you-"

"how the hell, what the hell do you mean by that? you kidnap me to just look at me, is that what you're telling me!?"

that came out in one breath that you paused, your sobbing stop a bit. this was bad. oh no, you weren't rational. well, you were never rational but in this situation with two strangers from college, they could easily chuck you in a body bag and call it a day. your sniffling gets louder when suguru pressed his thumb into your cheek and turned your head towards him.

his expression was almost indescribable. was he angry? was he amused? was he planning things? this was making you dizzy. they might talk about killing your right here right now too as they had no shame to cover up their plans of kidnapping you. but a small huff was let out from his lips as he held your face so tenderly.

"i know, this situation cam be scary but we've seen you around college. your artwork is just astounding and we wanted to go look for you, such an artist should hear our praise from us and yet you were nowhere to be found." satoru's brows quirked up when your eyes started gleaming a bit but blinking fast to try to hide some care into his words.

"when we found out how you've been so down in your mental issues, it saddens us. your teachers told us how you looked deeply affected by them. that you've been so lonely.." your chest starts heaving when he got so close to your face and your feet kicked the floor to slip away from him only for satoru to hold you from behind.

"we decided to keep you here as our little darling."

you blinked up, eyes twitching.

so they only saw you as entertainment that you were about to push them away from you and spit at them until satoru held your hand and kissed it, taking in your scent.

"sure, its the most foul thing to ever be called by us but we promise you're gonna enjoy it here!"

his arm slips from behind your neck and pulled you close to your chest, snickering when you tried to get away from him. his lips inch close to your ear and he whispers.

"we want to make you feel much better, away from everything you're experiencing and we want to talk about your passion too. wouldn't you like that? we'll provide it all for you. just say the word~"

your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head from the tears you squeezed out painfully. this had to be a joke. what was even going on anymore? your life had to be an absolute joke, you should've joined that one relative in death too.

but a life with them where your problems are almost nonexistent was just peaceful, did you died to get into this position. your crying had calmed down again. you looked up at them in worry, were they really telling the truth? a kiss was pressed softly on the forehead by suguru and his smile reached his eyes with such tenderness.

"you need time to process this, you can go back to sleep and think about it when you wake up.."

"orrrr enjoy your favourite!"

satoru popped open a bag from the restaurant you liked to go to but haven't in a while and the smell was just strong enough to taste it. your eyes linger to a pillow suguru held out for you and you'd nearly keel over. it was your pillow from your dorm and it made your head swirl in confusion.

just who are these two? why do they know so much when they heard you through passing? there was so much questions that they shut down with a kiss and slot their bodies right next to you.

but one thing was certain, you're not getting out of this soon.

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dumplingsjinson · 2 years ago

Text

List of “we just happen to love hate fucking each other” prompts (pt. 2)

“I don’t know, maybe you should hop off my dick for a second. Just a thought.” “That’s not what you said last night.”

“I told you not to leave marks on my neck! How the fuck am I supposed to explain this?” “…You were just so sensitive there, I couldn’t help myself.”

“Why’s your heart beating so fast? It shouldn’t— this isn’t normal.” “…Well, sex is physically exerting so…”

“Let me just make this clear: I like you for what you do to me, not for you.” “Mm, okay. Keep convincing yourself with that bullshit; maybe it’ll work one day.”

Character A confesses how they’ve fallen for Character B, and Character B’s like, “You’re not in love with me; you’re in love with the version of me you get to fuck. It’s not love, it’s lust.” Character A, offended that their affections are being dismissed so easily, tells them, “That’s not true. I know what I feel, and it’s not just lust. It hasn’t been just lust for a while now.”

“Do—” Character A inhales sharply, pupils dilated in absolute pleasure and arousal; voice dropping lower, almost a whisper as they continue, “Do that again and I might just fall in love with you.” (Bonus: Character B smirks. “Then fall. But just a word of warning, I won’t be there to catch you.”)

“I thought you said you hated them?” “I do!” “Then why the hell did I see you guys walking out of the bathroom together?” “Ever heard of cubicles?” “This is my house, [name], not a public fucking toilet. There are no cubicles in there. It’s a one room kind of deal you’ve got here.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you, it’s driving me up the walls; do you realise what exactly you’re doing to me?” “Oh, I know. I know what I’m doing to you and I’ll gladly have you fall to your knees for me.”

“…Why are you staying the night?” “Because it’s late and I’m feeling too tired to drive/walk home. Now scoot the fuck over, someone needs to get their sleep.” “Okay, but how about sleep on the floor instead? I don’t want you near me.” “That’s not what your body language was telling me just moments ago, love.”

“What are we doing right now?” “Fucking. What else?” “…It feels more than just fucking.”

Character B getting hella jealous when they see Character A out and about with their date and end up following them around. Character A catches them and is like, “Why are you following me?” And Character B’s like, “To tell your date how much of a dick you are so they can avoid dating someone like you.” (or, alternatively: Character B cornering Character A about it, and Character A being like, “But why do you care?” and Character B saying, “I don’t.” And then they somehow end up fucking them in a random alleyway or at a back of a bar or something. You can fill in the details on how they get to that point.)

“Careful — if you stare for longer than that then you’re going to fall in love with me and I won’t be there to catch you.” “Fuck you, like I’d fall for someone like you.”

The first time being purely on accident — the other times being on accident on purpose (because they just can’t get enough of each other but won’t admit it, and would make excuses about how they’re just doing this because there’re no other options when it’s becoming increasingly clear that that’s not the case).

“This is a mistake.” “You keep saying that but you keep coming back so is it really a mistake at this point?”

“You’re going to fucking break me one day.” “That’s my goal, sweetheart.”

“…Why’d you just kiss me?” “Huh?” “We promised everything intimate stays behind closed doors.” “…Okay, but why’d you kiss back?”

“You left your [insert clothing item] at my house.” “Why would you give it back to me out in the fucking open?!”

“Just because I like making out with you doesn’t mean I have to like you.”

“…Do you know exactly just how gorgeous you are?” “I know. Why else would you want to fuck me if it wasn’t for that?”

“So, like… Do you want to fuck me up or do you want to fuck me?” “Can’t it be both?”

(pt. 1)

#long post #enemies with benefits prompts #enemies to lovers prompts #smut prompts #otp prompts #dialogue prompts #writing prompts #writing scenarios #prompts

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python333 · 1 year ago

Note

HAI! i rlly like your platonic 141 fics and I'm wondering if we could get some more dad price and/or brother gaz sleepy cuddles? :3

stretched too thin — python333

— — — —

synopsis gaz notices you overworking yourself one night and decides to step in before you end up pulling an all-nighter.

relationships platonic!gaz & gn!reader.

characters gaz.

word count 2.05k

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of pet names [love, darling], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note oh my god im so sorry i disappeared for like. a month. ill try my best to not be gone for more than a week at a time, but with all of my schoolwork and just over all stress ive been experiencing lately, i dont know if ill be able to get fics out every week :< ill try my best though! please accept this fic as an apology—its another big bro gaz one!! special shoutout to everyone else who has an older sibling thats very distant with them, you and me are in the same boat fr!! also, last thing—im thinking about making a discord server where i announce when fics are being written and published and stuff, but i dunno if yall would join or anything, so if u would pls lmk!!

You haven’t left your office in five hours.

Recently—just about two days ago—you finished up an assignment fairly quickly and, as a result, had to write a detailed report of said assignment. It went over the mission you’d gone on, and listed off every major detail you could think of, though because you just can’t give yourself a break you were constantly thinking of other details you might’ve missed even though there was little chance you’d missed anything.

The mission wasn’t anything too important, honestly. It was originally going to be a week-long camp-out reconnaissance by an enemy task force’s base, obtaining information on their schedule and what they did throughout the day and whatnot. However, only a day into the mission, the small squad of soldiers that had accompanied you saw another small military group observing the same group you’d been observing.

So, naturally, you observed them as well. Aren’t you just the best multi-tasker?

The task force eventually found out about the other group, just a day later, while your squad was still in the clear to continue your observations. So, your mission had quickly come to a close—but, because of the circumstances under which the mission had come to a close, you were required to write an extremely detailed report on the other group and the group you’d been observing.

It would be an understatement to say you were tired. You’re exhausted.

Between the non-stop writing, the coffee sitting on your desk that’s been microwaved five times and has been refilled thrice, and the uncomfortable chair you’ve sat in that you have yet to replace, you’re extremely exhausted. Your movements are sluggish, your fingers aren’t as swift on the keyboard of your computer as they usually are, and worst of all—you still have more to write.

Your eyes stung and felt dry, your hands felt like they were going to stop working completely at any moment, and you were overall just exhausted.

You look over at the clock on your desk, and it reads 02:28 AM, indicating that you would only have about four hours to sleep if you went to bed now. I’m too far into this report to stop now, You tell yourself, sighing as you blink slowly at your computer screen, If only my vision didn’t keep getting blurry…

Suddenly, you hear a knock at the door. Your eyebrows furrow together in confusion, and for a second you think you’re hallucinating until the knock sounds once more.

Reluctantly, with a voice raspy from not using it almost all day, you call out, “Come in!”

Your voice is softer and quieter than you’d like it to be, but it doesn’t matter too much to you at this moment—at least, not in your foggy mind that still begs you for sleep, even when you have far more of your report to finish.

The door opens with a creak, and in walks Gaz.

“Sarg,” He greets you, not bothering to close the door behind him as he walks up to your desk, “Pleasure to see you for the first time in, what… three days?”

“Two days and eighteen hours,” You correct him, taking a moment to crack your stiff knuckles, not taking your eyes off of your monitor, “And you know you don’t have to call me ‘sarg’ or ‘sergeant’ or anything. We’re the same rank.”

Gaz promptly ignores you, “Right, well, anything over a day is way too long for me to go without seeing you. Why’re you all cooped up in here on your computer?”

“‘Cause I need to write a report on my assignment,” You briefly explain, before lightly goading Gaz, “Not all of us need a shit ton of attention every day like you do.”

“Ehh,” Gaz theatrically makes a thinking face, before shrugging, “Not sure what you mean by ‘us’, but alright.”

“By ‘us’, I mean everyone but you.”

“Surely that doesn’t include you, right?”

“It does.”

Gaz gasps quietly at your reply, before dramatically responding, “Oh, you can’t be serious.”

“I absolutely can,” You hum, finally taking your eyes off of your computer screen to look up at Gaz, “Is it so hard for you to believe that I don’t need to talk to you every waking hour?”

“It is, actually,” Gaz scoffs, “Because I know that you do need to talk to me every waking hour.”

“Uh, no I don’t,” You childishly argue, raising an eyebrow at Gaz.

“Uh, yes you do,” Gaz immaturely argues back, crossing his arms, “Look me in the eyes and tell me that the past two days and eighteen hours haven’t been shit because I haven’t given you any attention.”

You open your mouth to form a response but quickly close it, realizing that yeah, actually, I kind of do crave his attention.

Fuck.

“You’re not the only person that gives me attention,” You point out, hoping to find some way to change the subject.

“Sure, but you like the attention I give you the most,” Gaz hums, leaning forward to rest his crossed arms on your desk opposite of where you sit.

“You don’t know that.”

“Then tell me that I’m wrong,” Gaz challenges you.

You narrow your eyes at him, glaring at him for a moment before sighing, “You suck.”

“Maybe I suck, but you look like you haven’t slept for the past week,” Gaz points out, “You look exhausted, by the way. And dehydrated. Actually, you just look like the human embodiment of a headache.”

“What the fuck?”

“I mean that in the most loving, non-offensive way possible.”

“You come into my office, accuse me of needing attention from you, then you insult me by calling me the human version of a headache?”

“It wasn’t an insult!” Gaz raises his hands in surrender, before sighing, “I’m being serious. You look dead, [c/n]. You need sleep.”

“What I need is to finish this report,” You huff out, beginning to turn your attention back to your computer, before Gaz’s hand is quickly placed on your chin and forces you to look back at him.

“No, what you need is some rest,” Gaz argues, more serious this time, taking his hand off of your chin—something you shouldn’t miss nearly as much as you do, the warmth of his hand fading far too quickly from your face—and bringing it back to rest on the desk.

“Maybe you need rest, Gaz.”

“Sure I do,” He shrugs, “But I’m only going to sleep if you do.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, “Really? You’re pulling that card?”

“I am.”

You stare at him for a moment, mentally weighing your options, before sighing and bringing your elbows up to the table so that you can place your forehead in your hands.

On one hand, if you stay in your office you can finish up your report before four and then go to sleep, and hope that you magically feel active even with just an hour or two of sleep in the morning. On the other hand, if you go to sleep now, so does Gaz, and then you both get more than just two hours of sleep.

After another moment of consideration, you huff out a frustrated breath and mutter, “Fine.”

Gaz smiles down at you and walks around your desk to your side of it, holding out a hand for you to grab to help yourself up from your chair and using his free hand to save your report and power off your monitor.

You take his hand and stand up, your legs a little weak and balance iffy from sitting down for so long, but within the next few minutes you’re sure you’ll be able to properly walk. You let go of his hand once you’re positive you won’t fall over, and once he sees that you’re able to walk, Gaz silently walks towards the door of your office. Just as quietly, you follow him.

He turns off the lights for you and lets you walk out of the office first, locking the door from the inside and closing it once you’re out. Once he’s done, he takes the lead again and you follow him down to his sleeping quarters. It’s not too long of a walk there, only two minutes at most.

Once you’re there, Gaz opens the door and lets you walk in first. Once you’re inside and Gaz has closed the door, you shrug off your camouflage patterned jacket and toe off your already loosened tan boots, leaving you in just your camouflage cargo pants and army green undershirt.

You look down at your pants with a frown, knowing from experience that sleeping in them was incredibly uncomfortable and left you regretting your whole existence the morning after, but before you could even look over at Gaz to tell him of your situation, you felt something being thrown at you.

You immediately turn your attention to the item that had been hurled at you—the item in question being a pair of gray sweatpants, some that would probably be a little bit looser than you’d prefer on your figure—and then look over at Gaz with a questioning look.

“Figured you wouldn’t wanna sleep in that,” Gaz shrugs, nodding to your cargo pants in response to your nonverbal confusion.

You hum in appreciation, not wanting to talk too much at the moment, instead waiting for Gaz to look away before slipping off your pants and replacing them with the sweatpants Gaz had thrown at you. The fit isn’t as uncomfortable as you thought they’d be—they’re loose and hang low on your hips, just like you thought they would, of course, but they don’t feel nearly as weird as you thought they would.

Once you’ve tightened the strings on the waist of the pants, you get into Gaz’s bed, pulling the covers up and over yourself. Gaz quickly settles into the bed next to you, quickly getting himself comfortable under the sheets, and pulling the covers up and over his shoulders in one swift movement.

He gets closer to you, so close that his chest presses against your back and you can feel the tip of his nose ghosting over the top of your head. He wraps one arm over your body to pull you impossibly closer to him, and his other arm snakes underneath the side of your body so that both of his arms are wrapped around you.

He hums contently and his thumb rubs small circles into your clothed stomach, the action—despite being small—causing your stomach to warm up almost immediately.

“Comfortable, darling?” Gaz asks quietly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Very,” You mumble back, trying to subtly lean your head back against Gaz in hopes of getting at least one more kiss. Noticing your efforts, he huffs out a small laugh and presses another gentle kiss right at the edge of your hairline before pressing one last one to your forehead.

Even with the comforting atmosphere, you can’t find it within yourself to fully relax, your body still tense and stiff underneath the blanket. Gaz, just like he did with your “subtle” movements, notices and frowns.

“Just sleep,” Gaz tiredly mumbles into the top of your head, “You have to get up in three hours. The sooner you sleep, the more sleep you get.”

You don’t respond, instead simply sighing and forcing your eyes closed. You do have to admit, it’s nice being able to actually close your eyes for something other than blinking, and closing your eyes for longer than half a second has made you realize that they were even drier than you thought they were.

Exhausted and ready to finally sleep, you eventually get to a point where you no longer need to force your eyes shut, and as a result, your whole body relaxes for the first time in almost six hours.

“G’night, love,” Gaz murmurs, feeling your body relax next to his. You hum in acknowledgment of his words, not finding the energy within yourself to properly respond, instead finding yourself drifting off into a deep sleep.

And if four hours later, Gaz wakes up and simply lies there, not waking you and instead letting you get some more sleep despite you having to be up soon, nobody has to know.

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spookypete-94 · 6 months ago

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Nightmare's Wasteland

Chapter 1- Devil's Playground

Been on a Handmaid's Tale kick as of late. Made me wonder how Simon would be in this situation. I have always loved this series and the power behind it. The books are amazing (Margaret Atwood, wonderful, wonderful, author) and so is the tv series on Hulu. It is just the concept being used, will not involve places, names and/or characters of The Handmaid's Tale.

Small series. Reader is a female character in a dystopian world where the ability to conceive is limited to a small percentage of people. Reader is of that percentage and is assigned to Simon to provide a child to a declining population. She learns how live with him and survive, while he learns about her life prior before being delivered to hell. Def a darker read, MDNI.

CW and heads up- Reader is female in this, also has tattoos. Leave it to the imagination, only one described for now. Also language (we know how i love language)

If Simon Riley could be described as anything from a word in history, Warlord would be listed at the very top. Warrior. Solider. In reality, it’s all the same. Pick whatever word in that branch of that tree, and he fits it.

To be able to be such a thing, he had to turn off all things that made him human. No love, no happiness, no peace. It left him in a world without a wife, no children, family gone- left him a long time ago at the cost of his area of expertise.

When the world started to end, and he was too damaged to try to defend and protect it anymore, he was assigned a life. A home. He was given a civilian life… followed by excuses of this was his “reward”. Laughable to him really, this was far from what he wanted. Instead, he was given a different duty and told to provide children for the next generation. Children of strong genetics. Hope to be provided of his strength and wit…Honestly, he’d rather be out on the frontlines again. His duty would be better served there, being a ghost, THE Ghost, was what he did best. Specter in the line of work, no one ever saw him coming. Start to unravel and show how broken you are though, and they send you back to try to be part of the what’s “normal” life now.

Here he sat, in large empty house. A staff provided for all things to run it. Only exception it was barren of all the things that made it a home. Photographs, knickknacks, but more importantly a wife and children. It had been pressed on him to find a wife, but as he explained to his overhead he just wasn’t interested. Apparently, they could turn a blind eye to that, but he still was required to add to the population. He was a fertile, and it was his duty after all. The answer to a wife, was a temporary live in. One he was only expected to lay with during ovulation.

The idea filled him with dread, but not a soul got to have a say in this world of what was going to happen. The government was too strong for its own good now and he was too deep in it. All from being its war dog, and now given his bone and told to go home.

Simon’s inner turmoil was rudely interrupted as one of the house staff knocked on his office door. “Mr. Riley? They are all here, waiting downstairs in the foyer.”

A heavy sigh left him before he called back out, “Will be down in a few.”

Swallowing the rest of his bourbon, he set the glass down on his desk twirling it a few times by the rim with his large finger.

Now or never.

Encroaching downstairs, he saw a gathering of about four people. All dressed in black, one with a hood pulled all the way up hiding their face.

That would be you.

If you could be described as anything, it would be: Not made for this world. Your heart was soft, but the desire to live your own life once again thrived inside. A weed that couldn't quite be pulled out. The ache hurt that soft heart of yours. Children had always been a thought on your mind but deemed not good enough to be a wife from past choices of your old life, you were pushed into the service of bearing them for others. “Good enough to be bred, not good enough to be wed.” As you had been told. To be in the service, it was required of you to learn what was lady like. Quiet, barely there. Don’t fight back and don’t speak your mind. Make yourself small, don’t get in the way. Don’t agree? Great. Here is your issued beating and punishment. Take it on the cheek and turn it for the next one.

Those who could not bear children, were put into hard labor. Running a house, in home cook, cleaning maid, you name it. If you wouldn’t comply to meet the new standards, you were shipped off to work in the mines or sent to death. Funny a world so eagerly wanting to make life was so quick to snuff it out.

Never once you would think your life would be like this. All those freedoms taken and stripped from you. What you would give to have your old life back. Be able to sleep in. Go outside and to the stores when you wished. A fucking latte? What you would give for any of that now. All of that taken for granted...

Passing through the requirements made you fit for duty. Issued your new place of residency, to meet your new Master and Lady. Only this place didn’t have a Lady. The Master so much of a brute of a man to never take one, was rumor you had heard. It scared you. A man that clearly couldn't even be gentle enough to have a wife. Maybe that was why they picked this place for you first, to make you fearful of the new world. More submission.

Standing in the entryway, heavy boots could be heard on the bare wood. You wanted to look up at your new Master but deemed it best to keep your head down and eyes on the floor. Make yourself small. Lady Like. Pressing your hands tightly together in your front, fingers laced together in a way to try to compose yourself. In the old world you might have twiddled your thumbs together, but in this new one not even that would be acceptable.

“Mr. Riley,” your Governess spoke with fake pleasantry, “We apologize for rising you from your office. We are early after all.”

On time. He was late. This was her way of trying to stroke his ego, all while of pointing out the time to him. Only made her look dumb.

Not even a reply, just a grunt. His boots finally appearing at the bottom of the steps. The place you had been looking but now diverting your eyes further down. You noticed his boots were perfect and polished, the black shining from the light in the room. It looked like military attire.

“Today is a happy day, this is your new Chamber Maid.”

The term made your face hot, red. Your life you had before… and now reduced to a “Chamber Maid”?

What the fuck.

Your black hood being wrenched down so your new Master could look down upon you startled you.

Carefully, you glanced up. Your heart had hit the bottom of your stomach seeing a man with dirty blonde colored hair shaved down in military fashion. Matched the idea of his boots. His nose crooked from being broken by at least once… or a few times. A scar that ran across his mouth to the bottom of his nose on his cheek. Brown eyes burned down into your wide orbs while he all but sneered down at you. Here, you were certain the devil was standing before you. Handsome and scary all at once.

“Introduce yourself, don’t be rude,” Your Governess nudged into you roughly with her elbow.

New manners that had just been taught, returned to you. A small curtsey before him, careful with your legs as your head ducked down and standing back up fully. It was executed beautifully. Quietly, you gave your name. Instead of him giving you his, he grunted once more. You knew his name already, why waste his time with all this fake bullshit was his thought.

“Your room is upstairs; the staff will show you around.” His voice a deep threatening rumble.

This was all you got? Your living quarters? Your heart fractured. Not even worth being shown around by the man that was supposed to impregnate you. You could drop to your knees and cry right here if able. Lady like. You must not show any emotion, any thought behind your beautiful eyes. Just a breedable doll is all you were now.

A hand wrapping around your arm and tugging you along made your attention divert. The staff. An older woman, “My name’s Kate. Come with me.” Mr. Riley had already started his way upstairs, your Governess and other hierarchy leaving. This felt so strange to you enough as it is, but to have an abrupt goodbye made you feel like an adopted animal.

“Is there really no wife?” you whispered to her. Is he really a brute? Was the question you wanted to ask.

“No, no wife, but Mr. Riley is really not hard to live with,” she whispered back.

He might not be, but you felt your circumstances would be different.

A quick show around the large house ended with your room. It wasn’t bad in size. A full-sized bed shoved up against the wall with a window and rocking chair provided. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was there for an eventual baby, one that you would rock to sleep.

Starting with trying to settle in, you unpacked your clothes. Or rather uniforms. Because you had “sinned” in your past life, your uniform is a long black dress with long sleeves. Because you had tattoos scattered across places, you were to cover them. The only time your uniform was to be off was when you were alone. Even when you were to lay with your Master, the dress would remain on, both of you to be fully clothed. Still with your clothes, you felt naked at the idea. Stripped of any dignity.

Settled in, you had found Kate once more and helped her with her house duties and making supper. Idle hands were the devil’s workshop or some shit like that.

“You’re to sit at the table with him.” Kate whispered, nodding to the direction of the dining room. "Requested you himself."

Nervous, you smoothed out your dress, pressing away any crumbs from making supper. Looking back up at her, she nodded in a silent reply of asking her If you looked appropriate.

Quietly, you made our way into the dining room a large table that could have sat an army before you, Mr. Riley already sitting at the end of it. Even though the table was so large, a chair was all the way at the other end. Unsure of what exactly to do, you stood in front of the door with your hands interlocked together again.

“Well go on, sit,” Mr. Riley said gesturing to the end of the table.

“Yes, Mr. Riley,” you said meekly quickly walking to the end of the table to sit down.

One by one, the house staff filed in carrying the food and placing it on the table, making you both a plate as they did. The plate placed before you was steaming, filled across the circumference. Been a long time since you had a home cooked meal.

“Heard you had a helping hand with the meal tonight.” He said cutting into his piece of fried chicken.

“Just trying to be helpful.”

“Not expected of you.”

Your tongue wanted to fire back, wanted to cut him from the knees down. Would rather that then what is expected of me. But instead, you were quiet, choosing to eat instead.

It stayed silent like that through the rest of dinner besides clanking of dishes and silverware. Mr. Riley getting up and going to his office after he had cleared his plate, leaving you alone to finish yours. Made you wonder if he lived in that room.

Deciding to get up you helped Kate with clearing the rest of the kitchen and cleaning up from dinner. Most of it taken care of you told Kate to step out and take a break willing to finish the dishes. Having a task at hand to focus on now was helpful. The feeling of walking into the twilight zone curbed with getting food off dishes.

The calm you had felt left seeing a large man move into the kitchen. The only large man here. Looking over your shoulder you watched him get into the fridge pouring himself a glass of water from the pitcher.

“Told you we have help for that.”

“I told her to go take a break.”

“ Y’ sure you should give orders like that? Do you have the authority to do so?”

Shit. You had insulted him in his own home on the first fucking day. What a good start.

“I didn’t mean it like that-" but you were abruptly pushed forward further against the sink by him. Your breath was caught. You wanted to turn around but couldn’t. Expecting a strike, you flinched inward, but instead three large fingers grab carefully at your collar tugging it down, his thumb sweeping against the back of your neck.

“Skull and cross bones, huh?” He asked.

He was referring to the tattoo on the back of your neck. Some how he had caught it, even with the ugly collar on your dress.

“Was my very first one.”

“And that’s what you picked?” Was he bantering with you?

“I picked it out at a rock concert.”

“That the type of girl you are then? The one that gives breaks and gets skull tattoos?”

You were unable to find an answer. It seemed rhetorical anyway.

“Asked you question.”

Fuck.

“Appears to be that way, yeah.”

Cheeky.

He chuckled, swiping his thumb across it once more before giving you a light shove against the sink from his hand that held your hip. No longer where you terrified. It all almost seemed playful in nature.

“Tomorrow, Kate does the dishes. I can’t have her slacking.”

“Yes, Mr. Riley.”

Standing there feeling dumb, you closed your eyes at feeling his rough hand on your neck over and over again. Mind eye picturing what he looked while he was behind you. Perhaps he wouldn’t be too hard to get along with after all.

Simon "Ghost" Riley Masterlist

Nightmare's Wasteland Masterlist

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apollo-likes-writing · 5 months ago

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LAPIS LAZULI (PROLOGUE)

Character(s): Kakavasha/Aventurine, Veritas Ratio/Lapis Lazuli

Tags: Angst, long fic, role swap!au

Word Count: 933 words

Summary: A role swap!AU where Ratio takes his rejection by Nous a lot harder than he did in canon and loses himself as a result, becoming one of the Ten Stonehearts, while Aventurine is not recruited by the IPC and is instead a scholar in the Intelligentsia Guild.

Author’s Note: This was inspired by the amazing @havanillas with their role swap! AU! Check it out! Their mind is brilliant (and I am obsessed with the way they have drawn their differences). Also, I’m a nerd about crystals, not about space, so forgive me if there are any inaccuracies. I was also vaguely tipsy when I was writing the ending, so please excuse that. This will be multiple chapters, so let me know if you’d like to be on the tag list.

Main Masterlist | Fic Masterlist

A science lesson in the metaphysical properties of crystals and gems, if you’ll allow me.

I know, I know. You did not click this fanfiction for a science lesson. It’ll be quick, I promise. It would be perfectly understandable for you to click off this, or even send a hate comment stating “I DID NOT ASK FOR THIS!!1!1!!”

Still here? Great. I’ll continue.

Everything has a vibrational frequency: from the rocks in the ground to the leaves in the trees. You have a vibration. Your best friend has a vibration. Your pet gecko has a vibration. Hell, even the device you’re reading this on and the bed your sitting in has a vibration. You get the picture, yes? These frequencies are like a marker that interact with other markers to create different influences.

Things like crystals and rock - objects that have existed for thousands of years - are bound to have stronger frequencies (let me know if I lose you. There is a point to this, I promise) that interact with you differently. Amethyst, for example, helps with sleep and meditation; Rose Quartz is great for self love; Carnelian and Tiger’s Eye can give you a confidence boost, and Aventurine is good at manifesting luck.

So, what is Lapis Lazuli good for? What magical powers does Lapis Lazuli have? What funky frequencies does it fuck around with?

Intellect.

Intellect, wisdom, and the ability to communicate, to be specific. It was used by the Egyptians a few thousand years ago as makeup and medicine, and is the stone of many gods of wisdom in various mythos’. Interesting, right? Veritas Ratio was a man of intellect. A man of prestige and great wisdom who wished to communicate his genius to those more mundane in hopes of curing ignorance. An honourable cause, if any.

See how far he has fallen.

Lapis Lazuli is no longer a man of intellect. He drinks and gambles and throws his life away all for the purpose of forgetting. Forgetting THEIR rejection. Forgetting his own ignorances.

Forgetting his own genius.

The IPC ate him up. They picked him up by the scruff of his collar and swallowed him whole. They boiled him in their stomach acid and digested him into something functional. Something utilisable. Something mouldable.

He let them.

I told you this science lesson had a point to it.

The fall of a star is always so explosive, so why did he burn out so quietly? Perhaps the rejection from a star as mighty as Nous made the rejection of himself quite infinitesimal in comparison. When a red giant explodes into a supernova, it is much more noticeable than a white dwarf imploding in on itself to create a black hole.

That doesn’t mean that a black hole doesn’t have a presence. It is a presence of darkness, yes - practically invisible if it weren’t for the event horizon that drew the eye of the nosey - but a presence nonetheless. No matter how difficult it is to see, it is still ever-present, sucking in the warmth of stars and the things it kept dear until there is nothing left. It is a shell of what it once was. Just as Lapis Lazuli is a shell of what Veritas once was. Veritas Ratio has been sucked up by the black hole, warped and spaghettified until there is practically nothing left, leaving behind only the blinding horizon disk that is Lapis Lazuli. Anyone who dares to find him - the real him - only risks being sucked up and warped themselves.

It is not wise to try and find Veritas Ratio.

Veritas Ratio: the legend of the Intelligentsia Guild. A young prodigy with three pHds under his belt at the ripe old age of sixteen, only to achieve five more before twenty-five. He is the example set for all scholar’s who wish to make names for themselves. His name is whispered in hushed voices by students for support before their exams as if he were an Aeon they worship. In the eyes of the average mundanite, he basically was.

The duality of the esteemed Doctor Ratio is a fascinating one and the topic for debate for many of his former colleagues. These debates have never been made private (for who would care? He isn’t around to hear them anymore), so even the esteemed Doctor Kakavasha has heard of his story.

The scholars of the Intelligentsia Guild have always been creatures of gossip, spreading rumours and half-truths wherever they go in order to foster attention. Kakavasha knows of these tricks and refuses to fall for them. To judge a book by its cover is as criminal to a scholar as blasphemy is to a priest. Honestly, these Guild members have such massive sticks up their backside that Kakavasha is surprised they’re not coughing up leaves. He, like many of his calibre, has looked up to the legend that is Veritas Ratio ever since he started his first degree at university. The man is only a few years his senior, but his reported work ethic and candid attitude has followed the Avgin throughout his own education and beyond. It’s safe to say that he idolises the man despite his unknowable reasons for his disappearance and recruitment into the IPC. Time changes everything. Perhaps time changed Veritas Ratio’s outlook in life and he found better prospects in an institution as massive as the IPC.

Despite this, Kakavasha wishes to find him, to hold an educated conversation with him, in hopes of receiving his perspective on his independent research project:

How to get rid of his divine luck.

—

Hope you enjoyed! Super proud of this. Reblogs appreciated!

Next Chapter

#hsr #honkai: star rail #honkai sr #honkai star rail #hsr fanfic #hsr role swap #fanfic #role swap au #ratiorine roleswap au #hsr veritas #veritas ratio #aventurine #hsr aventurine #aventio #ratiorine #kakavasha

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