#its the only way of making anything seem worth it anymore
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thatnonameuser · 2 days ago
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The Red King holds a Bleeding Head
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A Wonderland of Yanderes - Masterlist Chapter 1. Heartslaybul Part 8.
Going down the rabbit hole that is your mirror a third time feels a little more normal. Even though traveling through it to begin with is the definition of crazy, you’ve started to get used to it. Just like the last two times you awaken to your bedroom, you feel smothered by that sensation of being forced under something heavy and lying on a fluff cloud. Your mirror ripples and gleams a bright white light that beckons you forward. 
You’re not exactly prepared for this, but you don’t have any time to. You throw off the odd feeling blankets and make your way to the mirror, which is sparkling in its usual white light. 
You take a deep dream breath to steady your nerves. You want this trip through the looking glass to be different this time. Instead of you stumbling through the mirror world completely blind, you need to go through determined to find answers. 
You’re smart enough to recognise the pattern. Whatever happens there seems to happen in your dreams, to some effect, have happened in real life. The painted roses, the cards soldiers, and Ace and Deuce, being beheaded by the Queen for breaking the rules. There’s a pattern and if it keeps up tonight, then tomorrow during the duel something is going to happen that will be similar to your dreams. 
Plus, there’s also the King of Hearts. He and Alice were the only ones who could see you so far, and Winston was the darling of the Queen. There had to be something that he knew that could help you. And if your dreams were really sending you back in time to meet them, then he had to know something that can help you. Even if it was a tiny detail, you needed to know.
Plus. If your deduction was correct, then Crowley had done jack all since you arrived to send you back home, then maybe you could find something out from someone like you. A darling that’s terrified. If it’ll lead back home, it's worth a shot, right?
Now invigorated with courage, you place your hand on the glass, and it ripples. And you’re pulled into wonderland.
You’re somewhere unfamiliar. As in it doesn’t look like the rose maze anymore. In fact, this place looks very different. 
The rose garden is beautiful, the hallway you’re in now is ominous. Even with the gaudy red hearts. The black, white and red are smothering here. The hallways narrow, but ornate. It’s covered with heart-covered and heart-shaped vases, picture frames, and statues. The hallway’s lit up by heart shaped lamps that glow gray, meant to give off light but feel the room feel so dark. The manic and exaggerated shapes and the monotony of the overwhelming crimson red makes you feel a little tremble. 
You take hesitant steps down the hall, scanning them for anything helpful or clues. 
“This is…new.” And so far what’s new makes you feel chills. “What is the mirror trying to show me n-”
A deafening roar of <Off With Their HEADS!!!> echoes through the halls and interrupts your thoughts and makes you jump in surprise. The roar makes the decor shake and rattle, some fall and shatter. 
You gulp nervously and your heart speeds up. This doesn’t feel right.
Another roar fills the air <SILENCE!!> makes you hasten your footsteps. Whatever’s happening you're missing it, and you need all the help you can get right now. 
You run down the hall to nowhere, finding no doorways, until the hall ends. It’s a single door, knee high and heart shaped. 
“How the hell am I supposed to-” Another roar fills the hall and breaks a nearby lamp. “Alright, I’m going!” You shove it open and crawl through, and it shrinks around you just to make things worse, After a mild struggle, you finally get through, something better be on the other side-
Something grabs you by the back of your pajamas, and you hauled up to be faced with the King of Hearts. 
And he looks angry. <What are you doing here?!> He whisper-yells, shaking you by your shoulders. 
“I-I-” 
You don’t get to put a word in, and shit must’ve hit the fan hard when you were gone because Winston starts ranting. <What are you, the Cheshire Cat!? You were there one moment and gone the next! I’m stressed out of my mind trying to keep a girl alive and you just keep popping up to make things even more stressful!!!> He pauses for a moment, to recollect himself, <H-How did you even get here?!>
“I used the door-” You turn and point to find no door or wall and instead find a sharp decline into a certain death behind the haphazard judge’s bench. “Nevermind” You quickly finish as you take a nervous step back from the ledge. 
<Well,  it doesn’t matter you have to->
<Winston, sweetheart, who are you speaking too?> The voice that pipes up is mockingly fond. As if they’re entertaining a child speaking to an imaginary friend. You look past Winston, to see a stout woman that looks suspiciously like the Queen of Hearts.
No seriously, her mocking, smiling face looks so punchable, that it reminds you of Riddle. A heart shaped with high cheekbones, and a glare that rivals Riddle Rosehearts, her black hair is tied up into a rose shape, slick backed, smooth and orderly. Her dress is extravagant even in the field of black and white, red undertones over taking the dress. Her crown is larger than Winston's, cementing to you that she is in charge and he’s unwillingly along for the ride.
She looks like a real person this time. Are your dreams progressing? Becoming more detailed?
Winston looks at her incredulously, you can hear him mutter, <C-Can’t you see her?...> Pointing in your direction confused. 
<There’s no one there, Winston. Are you imaging things again?> The King of Hearts spares you a conflicted look, before finally agreeing with her.
<I must be…..> He says after a few long moments.
<Of course sweetheart. How could you survive without me?> She chuckles to herself, and you feel the urge to punch someone again. 
A soft voice snaps you out of it. <Um…Your Majesty?> You finally notice Alice from her place down below. She looks a mix of exasperated, confused and terrified as she stands in the defendant’s chair. The Queen redirects her ire back to Alice as soon as she raises her voice. She screams like a banshee and roars like a violent loud animal. 
You take advantage of the noise to speak to Winston. “Winston I-”
He interrupts you, losing himself to his ramblings, <I’ve finally lost, haven’t I?> Winston laughs bitterly. <You’re not real, you’re just a figment of my imagination…>
“No. You haven’t and I’m not.” You push, desperate to make him see reason, “Alice has seen me before, I’m real!” You hurriedly whisper-yell. 
<Then if you’re real then you have to help Alice and you have to help me->
<HAPPY UNBIRTHDAY TO YOU!> A cake and teapots, and all the fixing that remind you of the buffet yesterday at Heartslabyul. The Queen and nearly everyone in the room are excitedly celebrating while Winston and Alice look exasperated. Seemingly exhausted from the shenanigans that are ensuing before you.
“W-What’s happening?” You raise an eyebrow in complete confusion. Yesterday an unbirthday party made sense because it was a party at a dorm then a trial room with a death sentence. 
Winston sighs in abject misery, <A trial.  I did it to save Alice from losing her head, but this nonsense is a trial. And I thought back home was crazy.>
You perk up at his words. Back home means that he’s not from wonderland so if that’s the case…Just to be sure, you ask. “You’re not from here?”
He looks at you curiously, still halfway between believing you’re real or not, <I-I’m from London, England. I came here by accident and have been stuck here ever since.>
“You know where London is?” You feel hope bloom in your chest, “Are you from Earth?”
<Yes, but->
You interrupt him in your budding excitement, “Then you have to help me! I’m stuck here, like you and Alice!”
<Regardless of whether you’re real or fake, I-I can’t help you! If Mary finds out, I tried to escape again, heads will roll! >
You haul the king up by his shirt. “Would you rather be stuck here forever?! If there’s a way out, we need to take it!” You can ignore the ‘being stuck here ever since’ part for now, because if he and Alice (who are real in this world) come from Earth and know about a way back, then that means there’s a way back to your world from Twisted Wonderland. Alice goes home at the end of the story, so there is a way back home for you in this world. And you need that way out. You just need to get to it. 
<I’ll help you on one condition.>
“Anything!”
<Help Alice. I can’t let another person die.> And then he shoves you. And then you're falling. You don’t even get the opportunity to scream as you’re pushed. Falling off that deathly edge, and hitting the floor hard. 
“Ow….” Damnit Winston, if you weren’t stuck in the same situation as him, you’d curse him out
<Miss, you’re back!> You slowly open your eyes to see Alice standing over you in worry, still completely black and white. <W-Where did you come from?>
“A place like you.” Alice lights up at your words,  “How’s your trial going?” only to deflate five seconds later. 
<It doesn’t make any sense, this trial doesn’t follow any rules.> You climb to your feet brushing off the imaginary dust off your dream self. 
“No, it does.” You’re forced to admit. “They’re just horrible rules.”
<Well, this really isn’t-> Whatever justifiable statement is cut off by the Queen being undistracted by the unbirthday celebrations. 
You don’t even know what happened next. 
One moment, Alice is pointing out the Cheshire Cat, her words, on the Queen’s head, and the next the Queen is a mess of jam and her torn flag, with a new bump on her crazy head. And Alice is holding the mallet and jam when the Queen finally clears her eyes. 
Winston bangs his head on the judges bench in defeat, at the sight of the mayhem.
“OFFF with-” the Queen interrupts herself, as Alice hurriedly stuffs her face with two pieces of something you don’t recognise. Her eyes go wide for a moment, as  her muscles twitch and her body contorts in places. She then grows over a mile high. Because of how rapidly she grew, you end up on the giantess Alice’s shoulders. 
<Oh, are you alright?> Alice asks, concerned. You give her a thumbs up in reply as the nausea in your gut trembles, before giving way. Now calmed, knowing one of her few friends here are okay, Alice focuses her attention on the tyrant whose red face has gone pale. <And as for you, Your Majesty….’Your Majesty,’ indeed!> The mushroom that Alice ate causes her to grow as tall as the trial room ceiling is high. You cling to her shoulder with your nails, not wanting to fall from this height. What crack did you smoke last night to dream this? Anyway,  Alice takes her moment to finally tell off the pompous queen, with all the confidence that a seven year old can have. 
The queen shrinks back in surprise at the seven-year old’s new size, and Alice chooses this to be the time to finally tell off the tyrant. 
<Why, you’re not a queen. You’re just a fat, pompous, bad-tempered old ty…tyrant…> As if Alice couldn’t get any more unlucky, the mushroom’s magic wears off as she starts to lay down the facts. Her confidence dies as she shrinks back to size.  You tumble off of Alice’s shoulder as she shrinks smaller and smaller. And the longer she speaks, the more the Queen’s glare gets more and more murderous.
<Mmhmmhmmhmm….> You, even at this distance, can see the fear painting across the King’s face and worry on Alice’s. This isn’t good, and the longer the Queen holds that note the more grim those looks become. You embrace the shaking girl. You can hear her whimpers of ear the longer this draws out. <What were you saying, my dear?>
A cat pops onto the head of the Queen, reminding you of Chenya even with the black and white, who parrots the, now shaking, Alice’s words. <Well, she simply said that you’re a fat, pompous, bad tempered old tyrant!> The cat cackles, as the Queen’s face turns red, contrasting the black and white.
<OOOOOOFFF with her head!!!>
You watch as the card soldiers jump from their seats to descend on the two of you as Alice clings to you for dear life, as the card shoulders dive to deliver her to her death sentence. 
But before the avalanche of card soldiers obscure everything from view, you can hear the King of Hearts beg his wife and captor to spare the poor girl. <Darling she’s just a child!>
And then the world blurs.
You’re back in your bed. Alice isn’t in your arms anymore, instead it’s Grim.
Why won’t anyone stop the queen? Someone could have stopped her.
AND THEN YOU COULD’VE GOTTEN YOUR EXIT!! FUCK!
Great. Winston had promised to help you if you helped Alice. And now you can’t go back till you go to bed! And that’s if Alice hasn’t gone home or lost her head yet! YAY!
You groan before sitting up, not expecting the violent pain in your neck. You then hiss in pain, just barely managing to massage the flesh locked under the collar. 
What a great way to start the morning. 
But there was some good news. The tyrant queen will get called out for her tyranny. That’s something to look forward to at the duel today. Still doesn’t make you feel any better though. 
“Ugh, Great.” You rub the exhaustion out of your eyes, to be face to face with Grim. 
“Hey, ____! Ah, good, you’re already up!” 
“Didn’t exactly have the best sleep.” Maybe you should tell grim about your dreams, just in case. But that’s a later thing, “Ready to get these collars off?” 
“Yeah!”
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Back at the tyrant’s castle, er, Heartslabyul, the residents have all gathered in the magical battlegrounds within the rose garden. Why someone built a magical battlefield in the middle of a flammable rose maze must have been a tyrant themselves, because why someone didn’t bring up the flammable part at some point during the dorm’s construction was a question you’re not stupid enough to come up with an answer to.
Speaking of tyrants, Riddle must have gone on a power trip stoked by his tantrum yesterday. Because the number of students wearing collars, minus or plus Ace and Deuce pick one, has to have doubled in one night. Seriously, a good quarter of the audience has to be wearing collars. 
And because of said collars, this duel is going to go south real fast. Because Riddle’s already fucking cheating with his signature spell. Seriously, magic nullification should not be allowed in duels like this but for some reason it is.
But back to the duel of the century, for just Heartslabyul. The dorm residents have been gossiping since your group’s arrival….
“Did you hear? They say someone’s challenged Dorm Leader Rosehearts to a duel!”
“Riddle Rosehearts? Seriously?! Whoever it is has gotta be outta his mind. Riddle will have his head off in five seconds flat.”
…about how stupid this decision was. You mean, you agree, but they’re the ones living under a tyrant. Have a little positivity, everyone. 
Thankfully, there are few who have held onto the aforementioned positivity. 
“Still, it’s the first challenge since Rosehearts took power. I’m pumped!” In your opinion, the dorm should be like that guy. That guy has a little faith.
Also, Trey apparently didn’t warn Cater about the duel that was probably going viral on Heartslabyul’s Magicam, because he looks completely shocked as you told him about the shit preparing to hit the fan.  “You’re saying Ace and Deuce are challenging Riddle for the dorm leader’s seat?! Please tell me you’re kidding!”
You sigh, “I’m not, Cater. Wish I was.”
“We tried to stop ‘em.” Correction, Trey. YOU tried to stop them, he sat there and did nothing like with Riddle. Seriously, the bystander effect is strong with Trey; it's like he’s afraid of saying something when he needs to. Did Riddle’s mom traumatize him too!?
Cater looks positively miserable at the revelation. “Of all the stupid ideas…I just hope this doesn’t make everything worse.”
“You and me both.” Trey agrees, but now you're both curious and concerned. Just how much worse is worse?
Crowley’s clearing of his throat silences the crowd’s chatter. Kinda concerning that he's more focused on two students dueling a dorm leader than the rampant abuse of power that’s going on in this dorm, but whatever it’s not like negligence is a crime or something. Though it probably isn’t given your experience so far. 
“We are about to commence two challenges for the dorm leader position at Heartslabyul House.” He announces as grandiose as possible. “The first challenger is Ace Trappola, the second challenger is Deuce Spade. The current housewarden they have challenged is Riddle Rosehearts.”
“Now, in accordance with the duel rules, please remove the magic-sealing collars as they would provide an unfair disadvantage.” Oh, you were waiting for that.
Riddle snaps his fingers and the collars dissolve away into sparks, leaving behind red marks around Ace and Deuce’s necks. Given Ace has been stuck in that thing for two nights you can’t imagine the relief he must feel. “Ah! FINALLY, the dumb collar is off!”
Yours and Grim’s are still on though. Oh, did he just forget that you and Grim were collateral damage to yesterday’s rampage? You can feel your rage rising. 
“Enjoy your moment of freedom. The collar will be back on soon enough.” Riddle’s cocky smirk looks so punchable, and you feel an itch in your fingers. Still cockiness might be his downfall. 
But before that…..
“Hey, Rosehearts!” You call out, “ Just to point something out,” You say as sarcastically and humorlessly as possible, “could you please remove mine and Grim’s. We’re not even in your dorm!” Riddle sighs, as if you’ve been bugging him about this for hours, before finally unlocking the literal weight around your and Grim’s necks. And you breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” The ‘Asshole’ part goes unsaid, for fear of making this worse.
Now, that the cone of shame on your neck is gone you can let them return back to the pre-duel banter. “Carry on.” You say with a dismissive wave of your hand.
Riddle hmphs, returning his focus back to his two challengers. “I could hardly believe it when I heard you two intended to duel me. Is this a joke?”
There’s a “Do I look like I’m joking?” from Ace and a “I’d never propose a duel as a joke!” from Deuce. They’re not backing down now. 
“Hmph. Have it your way. Let us get this over with.” Indeed, let’s get this over with, because you might have a room to clear out when this eventually fizzles out. That doesn’t mean you won’t cheer for Ace and Deuce, Bravery is still something to praise even if it’s on par with stupidity.
But like before, Cater intervenes when he really shouldn’t, “Uh, Riddle, what do you want to do about today's afternoon tea?”
“A foolish question. You know that the rules stipulate I take my tea everyday at 4 PM sharp.” Oh, so he’s cocky that he can finish this in, what, thirty minutes. 
“It’s just that it’s already past 3:30….”
“And you fear that I will be late? All the more reason to end this promptly.” So he’s very cocky. You can only hope it will be his downfall. 
“It appears I have little time to waste. Rather than facing my opponents in succession, I will take on both at once.” Oh. Wow, he’s…..he’s arrogant if he thinks that. Well, Ace and Deuce are probably screwed. 
The cheers of the dorm residents fill the air as stiff and empty as they were yesterday. 
“You can do it, Dorm Leader!”
“Knock ‘em dead, sir!”
You can see Trey shake his head to your  right, so he still hasn’t said anything. Coward.
“Cowards,” you hear Deuce say, and you agree, because you’re looking right at one. To say that you don’t want to hurt his feelings after a hard time, when you’re letting him force that hard time onto others is the definition of cowardice.
“Myah, I got a bad feelin’ about this.” You squeeze Grim tighter. 
“I do too, Grim.” 
“Hey, at least we got a plan!” A plan that already hangs on by a thread, Ace but you’ll accept his confidence. 
“Headmaster, please give us the signal.” Riddle’s already sure of his victory even before it starts, and he might be right, but a part of you wants him to suffer, just a little.
“When the mirror, I’ve thrown shatters upon the ground, that is your signal to begin. Ready…Go!” 
“You guys can do it!” You offer them some encouragement, but….
“OFF WITH YOUR HEADS!” You saw the way this battle ends from miles away.
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If you're being generous, you’ll call that another deja vu moment. This insanity of constant ‘beheadings’ is starting to become grating. But, you hope the ending of the calling out part comes sooner rather than later. 
“That was…..fast.” You say glumly, it’s sad that they failed so quickly but at least they tried. It had to be, what, 5 seconds into the duel before the collars locked on and it was over. Saddening, upsetting but expected. 
Well, now what?
“Visualization is key to spell casting.” Crowley starts an unhelpful speech about magic. It’s not really helpful in this situation, because if Riddle has his way from now on Ace and Deuce are going to be wearing those collars till Riddle graduates. “The better you are at accurately visualizing your magic’s effect, the stronger and more precise it will be.”
“They lost in less than ten seconds, you’re not helping Crowley.” You point out the explicitly obvious, because it doesn’t fucking matter about how visualisation is important when a. They lost before they cast a single spell, and b. They can’t even use their magic to practice now. “Still, it would appear Mr.Rosehearts has finely honed his magic.” Ouch, salt in the wound. Stroke the tyrant’s ego even more too. Crowley’s just batting zero right now. 
“Myah…They didn’t stand a chance.” Grim bemoans at the loss. 
You sigh, “Well at least they tried….” it wasn’t really an attempt even but at the very least. You force a smile on your face as you approach your two friends, “You guys did your best, or were going to your best..” You add unhelpfully, before giving them each a gentle smile. . You might have to just let them stay it seems.
Ace opens his mouth to reply but someone else does to add their unhelpful commentary. “Hardly. They didn’t even last five seconds.” You can hear Ace and Deuce growl as you turn to face the cocky tyrant. 
 That cocky, self-righteous brat keeps adding his unwanted opinion. “That was all you had, and still you thought to challenge me? You must be utterly humiliated.”
You glare at him, “You won already. Stop rubbing it in.”
Riddle’s too high on his high horse to seem to be aware of what happens below. “I guess my mother was right. A man who cannot follow rules is a man who cannot achieve anything.” You’re going to put a knife between that woman’s eyes if you ever meet up. Mommy undearest’s parenting has screwed him up so much that he’s doing the same thing to the people he lives with.
If Ace or Deuce actually won this battle he probably would have been run out of the dorm.
“Tch…We agree that rules should be followed. But forcing others to follow nonsensical rules like the ones you’ve enacted is tyranny!” 
“Then you agree that breaking the rules is wrong. And in this dorm, I AM the rules.” Is…is he serious? Did he miss the second part of Deuce’s sentence? “Therefore, those who cannot abide by my decisions deserve not the heads they use to complain!”
You had enough of this.
You’ve bit your tongue bloody, thanks to this brat’s tyranny.  You've been inconvenienced again and again because of his pretentious and frankly ridiculous rules.
 Screw manners, screw survival, and screw this red-haired little absolutist pain the ass! “But that’s not right! You can’t just use the rules to do whatever you please!” You yell in fury. 
“I am the one who decides what is wrong and right-”
You cut him off. “And you’re also a pain in the neck and the ass, that pretends he’s the perfect student that can do no wrong, because mommy said so!” His eyes widen in shock as you finally, finally go off the leash you tethered to yourself this entire time. And you’re not done. “How can you be so blinded by your own delusions that you can’t even see how unreasonable it is to follow, frankly, the most STUPID of rules!?!” You can feel your cheeks warming and the blood in your ears roaring in boiling hot fury. You can feel someone try to calm your rage with a hand, Deuce’s, on your shoulder. You’re pissed and tired and angry and what does he do?
He continues talking like you didn’t say anything. “If there were no penalties, no one would follow the rules.” You;re going to punch him. 
“You!-” What he says next cuts your thoughts and words off completely.
“What sort of pitiful education have you received, that you cannot follow such simple rules? Clearly, you were born to parents with no great magical capability. As a result…you lack even the basic education necessary to attend a school such as this. It’s quite sad.”
You blink, taken aback. The rage in you is stunned into pacification. 
He did not. 
He did not just say that about you.
“You-” You can’t even string your thoughts together completely stunned. You can forgive someone being unreasonableYou feel something different from rage, something stronger, boiling inside you. 
“You little��” Deuce releases you, prepared to pummel the tyrant into the ground but…..
“You shut your spoiled little mouth!” Ace dashes forward fist raised and-
He punches Riddle clean across the face. 
Hard enough to knock Riddle off his feet. Ace quite literally beat Deuce to the punch. 
So many voices speak up in shock and surprise at Riddle, the untouchable dorm leader, finally eating his just desserts. Right in the face too.
You don’t say anything, staring at what’s about to unfold, with a blank expression.
“That’s all I can take. Forget Riddle. Forget the duel. I’m done.” Just like Alice in your dreams last night, calls out the now stunned red sovereign.
“That hurt! You…p-punched me?!” Riddle’s genuinely stunned. Is stunned by his house of cards finally starting to collapse around him? You can’t bring yourself to care. 
Ace spits some facts. 
“Kids aren’t trophies for their parents to flaunt. And the accomplishments of a child aren’t determined by the worth of their parents. It’s  not your parents’ fault you became a tyrant -or anyone else’s. You’ve been here a year and haven’t even made a friend who will tell you you’re outta line. And that’s on you.”
“What are you even talking about?” 
“Yeah, maybe you had some rigid upbringing from a relentless helicopter-mom. Is that all you are? An extension of her? Can’t you think for yourself? You call yourself the ‘red sovereign’. You’re just a baby who’s good at magic.”
“Baby…? Did you just call me a ‘baby’?! You don’t know anything about me! You don’t know anything about anything!” But despite the honest truths that Ace is trying to make the pretentious tyrant hear for what has to be the first time in his life, Riddle refuses to listen.
“Nope, sure don’t. And I don’t need to. Your attitude tells me all I need to know- that you’re nothing but a spoiled brat!” Ace doesn’t let up on the lecture Riddle probably needed to hear last year. 
Riddle’s face is starting to turn pink from his blind anger. “Shut up, shut up, shut UP! My mother was right! And that means I’m right too!” Riddle practically roars in anger. He’s shaking from barely repressed rage. 
Trey steps between them to prevent what has to be a near disaster, trying to pacify the screaming tyrant. “Riddle, calm down. The duel is already over.”
“Mr. Clover is correct.” Crowley  The challenger has been disqualified due to physical violence. If you do not cease your conflict now, I’ll have you written up for breaking school rules!” But even with the threat of breaking his own personal rules and being a rule breaker himself doesn’t soothe his rage. It doesn’t matter here anyway, because as long as no one is willing to stand up to-
“Ace is right, though! I’ve had enough of Riddle!” A voice in the crowd shouts, and he throws something small aimed directly at Riddle’s head.
An egg cracks in Riddle’s hair. Egg goop trails down his face. You fight back a laugh with all your willpower. Well, color you impressed. The card soldiers aren't completely useless, brain dead drones. 
For half a second everyone is frozen solid. And then the egg practically cooks on Riddle’s face as he searches for the offender, completely infuriated. “Who did that? Who threw that egg?!”
And this time, the silence feels both suffocating and glorious. At least the cowards have finally stood up for themselves, at least a little. Unfortunately Riddle, instead of taking the obvious hint the egg to the face was, he laughs. And it’s not a composed one.
“Heh heh…Ah ha ha ha!”  It’s an insane one.
Riddle snaps at all of the now cowering dorm students“You say YOU’RE fed up?! I’M the one who’s fed up with all of YOU!” 
“No matter how strict I am, no matter how many heads I remove, you keep breaking the rules! All any of you care about is doing what YOU want to do! If the guilty party won’t come forward, then I’ll pass judgment on all of you!”
“Clearly, none of you value your heads! OFF WITH YOUR HEADS!!!” Like a tyrant gone wild, collars lock on to every single one of the residents' necks, save Trey and Cater, sealing off their magic.  You’re getting real tired of hearing that. 
The Heartslabyul residents scatter like headless, heh pun unintended but fitting, chickens. “Bwaaah! Let’s get out of here!” “Urrrgh!” 
Riddle, reassured that his tyranny will last,  shoves past Ace to rub in his ‘victory’ to Ace.“How do you like that, hm? Now no one can do a thing to me! Do you see now? My strict adherence to the rules was clearly the correct path!”
Crowley still does nothing to calm, or now that Riddle’s actually broken some rules, to punish Riddle for this insanity. “Cease this improper behavior now, Mr. Rosehearts. I expect better from you!”
“Crowley, could you maybe actually do something!?!” You finally point out the utter stupidity of him not doing anything while Riddle literally abuses his power. 
“Uh…Trey, if he keeps using his spell…This could get ugly, fast!” You barely hear Cater over the chaos.
Trey does, still trying to separate the fuming  Riddle away from Ace and a catastrophe. “Riddle, stop this!”
Ace might be perspective but he’s incapable of reading the room when shit really starts to go bad. “Wow, way to totally prove me wrong here, pal! I call you a baby and you immediately throw a temper tantrum!”
Riddle’s face goes deep crimson. “Retract your comment immediately, or I shall skewer you where you stand!” He yells. 
This might not be good.
Ace doesn’t let up “No way. I ain’t retraction’ squat.”
Face red, eyes full of rage and mania, Riddle’s reached the point of fury where words are impossible and yells of anger are the only sounds that can be made. “YEEEAAARGH!!!”
“Dude, this is bad! You’ve G-2-G, now!” You feel a hand on your wrist, Cater's, dragging you away from the rampaging tyrant.
And then you're blinded by the debris.The earth shakes for too long as the rose bushes are yanked out of the earth, the fragile yet heavy bushes floating high in the air. Ripped up from their earth , roots and all, and float in mid-air. The roses and their thorny brambles writhe under Riddle’s magic.
Debris and dirt float through the air, alongside the rose bushes. 
“W…Whoa…” You take a nervous step back, “Shit.” 
“The rose trees! They’re floating!”
“This is some serious magic!”
The roses and their brambles might not be the strongest weapon, but Riddle’s magical strength is powerful, as you watch the roses and branches become arrows, perfect for tearing flesh from bone and crushing the rest. 
“Mighty roses, tear this brute to pieces!” Riddle yells, completely blinded at his anger. The roses, thorns and all fly like arrows aimed directly at Ace. A deadly shot, if it lands.
“Ace! MOVE!” You dash forward, but a pair of arms are around your waist holding you back from the barrage of arrows aimed at your friend. You look around frantically and you see who’s stopping you from helping the first friend you made here. It’s Deuce. When did he get next to you? Nevermind. “Lemme go! Ace needs help!” 
Deuce shakes his head with a remorseful expression. “I can’t let you get hurt!”
Since you can’t get to Ace, “Crowley! DO something!” You yell at the Headmaster who’s done jack diddly since Riddle’s tantrum progressed into hemorrhage. All he’s done here is politely ask Riddle to stop, and Ace might actually die if Riddle keeps at this. 
“Cease and desist at once!” Crowley doesn’t do anything, but yells at him to stop, and Riddle’s already too angry to listen.
But it’s too late for any one to push Ace out of the way, 
“ACE!” You can’t even shut your eyes as the roses and brambles come down. You take back every thing you’ve ever said about Ace, and this world if it means you don’t witness him being killed….
…..By playing cards?
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Instead of roses and their thorns tearing Ace to shreds….playing cards fall from the sky.
“Huh? I’m still alive?” Ace is as stunned as you and everyone else here. 
Deuce is probably as stunned as you, because his arms go limp, and you practically tackle Ace, “Are you okay!?” Your arms and legs are jelly from adrenaline, but you manage to stumble over and check him over with trembling hands. 
“Y-Yeah,”He answers and you sigh in clear relief.  What’s with all these playing cards?”
“All the rose trees turned into cards?” Deuce is right, All the roses and their brambles are gone. Instead it’s all playing cards. And nothing more. How did that even happen?!
Wait. Deja vu again, this keeps happening. Cards falling against an innocent. But there’s no time for that. 
Because Riddle’s face is murderous, and his grip on his magical staff is so tight it could have snapped in half. He raises it again, prepared to recast as “Why didn’t you-”
Deuce dives in between you and Ace, to act as human shield but Trey stops him, shielding you all from Riddle’s view. “Riddle, stop this right now!” Oh, so NOW Trey decides enough is enough, murder was the last straw. Wonderful. 
“Wait, is that Trey’s ‘Paint the Roses’?! But…how?!” You can hear a confused Cater, and thank goodness, because Trey saved Ace’s life. 
“All the magic sealin’ collars are gone!” Grim’s right, You didn’t even notice in the mayhem. Ace and Deuce, and probably all the Heartslabyul residents, all have their magic-sealing collars removed. 
“What did I tell you? My magic can overwrite characteristics for a short time. So I used it to make ‘Riddle’s magic’ into ‘my magic’.” Trey’s explanation lets you breathe a sigh of genuine relief. At least now, Riddle is defenseless.
“You can do that? That’s some kinda loophole!” And a lucky loophole to test on someone about to die.
Meanwhile in Crazy town, Riddle’s discovered his magic’s no longer his own. “N-no…Off with their heads! I SAID, off with their heads!” Every attempt Riddle makes to cut off everyone’s magic just causes more and more playing cards to fly out. But depending on how short the time Trey’s magic can work, that might not be for long. Especially with how many times Riddle tries recasting. 
Trey finally puts his foot down. “Riddle, stop. Can’t you see how you look right now?”
You can’t believe that this is what it took to finally open the eyes of the residents. Ace nearly being murdered because Riddle’s ego got bruised. At least now, their eyes have been opened to the true extent of Riddle’s cruelty. 
Which they decide to vocalize in the presence of the tyrant with the bruised ego. They’re not very smart. are they? 
“He…he was really gonna do it!” “He is completely out of control.” “He’s like some kinda monster!”
Thankfully, and unfortunately, Riddle isn’t focused on that. Instead, he’s more concerned with the fact that his magic isn’t his anymore. And Trey is the reason. “What? Was my magic overwritten by yours? Does that mean your signature spell is stronger than mine?!” He demands, turning on the only one who ever really defended him in his madness. 
“Of course it doesn’t. Riddle, take a deep breath and listen to us.” Trey tries to reason, but it’s too late for Riddle to be reasonable, with him already lost in the throes of his anger.
You start to feel a chill up your spine, like back in the mines with that monster. But why are you-
Still completely unreasonable, Riddle’s still deaf to Trey's words, “Are YOU going to tell me that I’m wrong too? After all I’ve done to protect the rule of law?! Do you know how much I’ve suffered for this?! I…I refuse to believe this!” That chill gets worse, and the ominous and malicious feeling you’re getting from Riddle gets worse. Something much darker. A line of dark blood drips from Riddle’s nose. Wait, that’s not blood. Blood isn’t….black.
You might be angry about earlier, but unlike Riddle, you haven’t lost your wits. You can tell when things are nose-diving into a downward spiral at terminal velocity. Because the longer Riddle spits his mad ravings, the more of that black stuff comes out.
You normally wouldn’t do this, mostly because you want to punch the bastard. But that inky stuff has to be a bad omen. “Riddle, you need to calm down.” You try to soothe the raging beast, even though you’re sure that this is a bad idea. “You don’t want to be a rulebreaker, right? So just calm down and we’ll talk this out.”
“Wha-OW!” Ace looks at you as if you’d gone insane too, but you elbowed him harshly in the gut. 
Riddle’s angry glare falls on you. And you could see the veins starting to twitch under his skin. If he gets any more angry, then he might have a stroke. “ I! AM NOT! A RULE BREAKER!” He yells, his own rage leaving him breathless. “AND YOU! OF ALL PEOPLE! HAVE NO RIGHT TO SAY THAT!”
“I’m just trying to calm you down, you don’t really want to break the rules by hurting anyone, do you?” You hope he doesn’t actually want to hurt anyone. Plus, you’re really not ready to witness someone’s death. 
Riddle’s face is so red, it looks like it might explode. And his glare could kill you and cook the remains with how fiery it is. 
He snaps, his voice laden with venom. 
“YOU! DARLINGS LIKE YOU! ARE WHY WE NEED THE RULES! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO SAY THAT TO ME!”
…..What.
Did he just- 
No way, he just did. He did. 
Shit. Shit...SHIT. 
FUCK YOU, RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS!
You did NOT go through all that shit for him to reveal it to everyone here in a fit of rage. No fuck him, fuck this, whatever shit he has going on can wait because you need this bastard’s neck to be the other way round. 
You feel fire burn under your skin. You’re gonna-
“Wait, wha-” You hear , and you don’t even have the ability to freeze up in terror. Because you gotta disperse the potential nightmare of Ace and Deuce finding out. Even if they don’t believe him, the doubt will remain. So you’re basically fried. 
“It’s nothing!” You frantically yell to cut off whatever Ace or  Deuce were going to say as fast as you can as you feel your heart speed up in total panic.  You’ll be lucky if they think this is a psychotic rambling of a raging tyrant. This just keeps getting worse and worse for you. 
If Riddle doesn’t get killed in this madness, then he owes you an apology and you owe him a big, fat fist to the face. 
Meanwhile as you prepare for your own mental breakdown, Crowley maintains his complete and utter uselessness, even though he probably has the power to stop this. “Cease immediately, Mr. Rosehearts! Any further attempt to use magic will leave your magestone completely tainted with blot!”
What is blot?! 
And why is Riddle-
“But….I’m right! I’M the one who’s right! There is NO! POSSIBLE! ALTERNATIVE!” Thick, black inky substance  comes out of his eyes and ears. 
“Riddle, stop!” Trey’s words can’t pull Riddle out of his madness and likely never will. 
Because all that black ink dripping out of nearly every pore, staining his skin and clothes, pools around him for only a few seconds. Before it engulfs him, swallowing him whole. 
And like a caterpillar metamorphosing into a horrific butterfly…..
…..he comes out a monster.
Like a horrible chrysalis bursting open, Riddle comes out changed. 
His skin is so pallid, the color could have been mistaken for bone. A red flame is positioned over his right eye, glowing an unnatural color. The ink that bleed out of his skin sticks to his arm and face like tar. And most identifiably, he’s dressed like the Queen of Hearts. Sort of, if she was beheaded and her body was thrown in her beloved rose garden to be torn apart by the hedgehogs. (A fitting fate in your eyes)
The tyrant has changed to match his predecessor, both over-controlling monsters. 
But that’s not the most terrifying part of it. 
There’s also the giant hulking beast tethered to Riddle’s back.  And that’s the most defining feature. Because that thing matches your dreams of the Queen of Hearts. The monster is dressed in a dress nearly identical to the one from your second dream. She’s even carrying a rose bush, torn from another world’s ground.
This is not good. And you’re suddenly very afraid of what will happen next.
The possessed? Riddle cackles, “You are fools to defy me! You are not welcome in my world. In my world, I am the law. I am order made manifest!” His voice is warped and distorted as if someone otherworldly is speaking through him.
“The only response I will accept from you is ‘Yes, Dorm Leader Riddle.’ All who defy me will lose their heads! Ah ha ha ha HA!” 
“Dear me, what have I done? I’ve allowed a student to overblot in my presence!” What the fuck is overblot!?
“Crowley? What the HELL is overblot!?” You demand an explanation to this madness, because Riddle is both a monster, and has a massive monster connected to his spine. Seriously, what the shit is this!?!
“Overblot is a dangerous condition that mages must avoid at all costs. At the moment, he is overcome by negative energy and has lost control of his magic and emotions.”
“Okay but what does that mean?!” 
“Please explain!”
“To put it in layman’s terms, he’s in evil berserker mode!”
“If he keeps releasing magical energy, we could be looking at a loss of life here- his included.” 
“WHAT!” You feel your eye twitch, “CROWLEY! WHY DIDN’T YA JUST TELL ME ALL THIS SHIT WHEN I GOT HERE!!” It can’t be that hard, can it? How hard is it to give the unfortunate transfer student from another world or dimension a simple crash-course of ‘hey, here’s some things you should know about our world!’, for crap’s sake. 
“Ms. ____-” 
“Nevermind, Crowley! We’ll deal with the evil giant monster thing now, I’ll freak out later!” And freak out you will. Riddle outed you, overblotted and could kill someone or multiple someones if this shit goes south. Forget punching him, you’re going to beat him so bad that smug arrogant face of his will be unrecognizable when you're done with him.You are fucking tired of this shit already, and when you think it’s bad it just gets worse.
“Yes! The well-being of my students is my top priority. Therefore, I must evacuate them immediately.”
“Y-You’re not staying?”. You say weakly. Was the bar for headmaster requirements in hell? Yes, there is a giant monster/dorm leader attacking the running and hiding Heartslabyul residents but this is a MAGIC school for shit’s sake. “No, but as for Mr.Rosehearts, we must restore his consciousness before his magical energy runs dry.” Damnit Crowley! “For as bad as losing him would be, there are scenarios that are far worse…” WHAT’S WORSE?!?!
“Listen well: I need all of you to seek help from the other housewardens and members of faculty.” But how the hell are going to all evacuate and summon the other housewardens if Riddle is-
While the exposition dump was happening, the beast behind Riddle follows his body movements, and still fueled by all the anger that caused this whole mess to start in the first place, raises the rose bush like a club, prepared to strike down one of the unfortunate Heartslabyul students.
Ace and Deuce finally allowed to use their magic, do what they’ve wanted to do since yesterday. Strike the pretentious dorm leader down.
“HIIYAH! TAKE THAT!” A strong magical gust knocks the beast’s weapon away from its original target. And annoys the furious Riddle. 
“Huh!? Trey, Cater and Crowley look and sound bewildered at the attack, but you feel a rush of pride. 
“I summon thee, cauldron!” Deuce takes advantage of Riddle’s change in focus to strike. With his infamous cauldron spell. Riddle manages to dodge it, but at least he’s not attacking the students any more!
“MYAH!” Grim leaps out of your arms to join the attacks, sending a wave of blue fire along with Ace and Deuce’s own attacks. 
Now even more pissed ( a surprise to be honest) Riddle fumes at their lack of submission. “What do you fools think you’re doing?”
“Um, hello?! 911? We’ve got an idiot emergency!” Cater’s internet talk doesn’t fade in times of high stress.
Grim, acting unlike his usual selfish self, actually points out the most frightening part of this, “You DID hear that part about how reeeal bad things are happenin’ with him, right?!”
“That’s why we need to stop him now! I don’t want that on my conscience!” Yah, Riddle straight up sucks but risking the deaths of others to save yourself from certain death is cowardly, and unlike the rampager, you’re not a hypocrite. 
“And I’m not givin’ up till I hear him say, ‘I was wrong and I’m sorry.’”
You’re convinced, “Yeah, he owes me an apology for the shit he put me through!!”
“All right, let’s do this. I can overwrite his magic for a little longer. In the meantime, do what you can! Headmage, please evacuate the other students!”
“Wait! This is dangerous!”
“Are you S-R-S, Trey? You can’t beat Riddle!”
“So what, you’re not even gonna fight unless you KNOW you can win?”
“Yeah, he’s right. That’s weak.”
“This is the only way we can think of to snap him out of this!”
“Yeah…I don’t want to lose him. There’re too many things I’ve left unsaid.”
“We just have to do this, whatever it takes!” You might not be able to do magic, but you’ll help….somehow. 
“Ugh, I do NOT like or subscribe to this, but fine!”
Ngh…I’ll be back as soon as I’ve gotten the students to safety. Stand firm until then!”
“Such defiance, from every last one of you! I shall take all of your heads!”
“Riddle’s body can’t take much more of this. We need to stop him before it’s too late!”
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Things are going…..well enough. 
Because how in every layer of hell can you describe this? At all? It’s not everyday that you watch a magician go into berserker mode and try to kill his ‘underlings’ or really equals he’s un/knowingly been abusing for who knows how long?
Here’s the good news. 
Trey’s magic makes the fight easier for them. Replacing Riddle’s UM makes the battle actually possible. 
Cater’s Spilt Card, makes the perfect distraction ones, that he can use as human shields as Riddle strikes.
Even Ace, Deuce and Grim’s inexperience manages to turn the tide. Wind, cauldrons and fire join a barrage of more sophisticated and more complicated spells of the third-years is the perfect combination of brute strength and complicated strategy. 
But here’s the bad news. 
Riddle’s fast. Very fast. 
For every one spell the others cast, Riddle can cast two. and moves twice as fast to replace every one Trey replaces. Which should be impossible with all of his magical energy and life force being drained away but it seems whether he’s a horrific monster or a tyrannical dictator, he’s still a magical prodigy.
What your friends need is a distraction. And they need one fast. And while you might not have magic, you’re not completely powerless here. 
Why? 
Because Riddle’s earlier pique was kind enough to dislodge plenty of stones that once were the floor of the battle ground. Small and light enough for you to carry. Large and heavy enough to leave a nasty bruise or a nice headache.
All you hope is that you have good aim. Because this better land right in the face. 
Even with the hail of magic sending wind, ice, fire, cauldrons and other magical bursts in Riddle’s direction, you’re safely hidden in the background and the beast attached to him is otherwise preoccupied with the aforementioned magic, so it’s easy to sneak away. 
You wrap your hand around one of the loose stones of the destroyed battlegrounds, and sneak behind the bushes till you’re a good distance away from the others with a broad distance away from him and that monster. “Hey Rosehearts!” You yell.
He turns to you with a death glare that could actually cut off your head. But as soon as his gaze has fallen on you, you throw the stone as hard as you can.
It hits him square in the forehead. 
Riddle doesn’t even have the time to cry out in pain, as he and the phantom monster stumble back, dazed.
“HA! Take that you controlling bastard!” Sure, you’re saving his life in the process, but considering he just outed you, kicking his ass through this is actually one hell of a relief.
Everyone takes advantage of the distraction you made to send another barrage of magic against Riddle. Still dazed from your strike to his head, probably combined with the damage the overblot was taking on his body, he’s much slower. 
So now, every strike lands without fail, and Riddle barely has time to retaliate now. And that changes the tide of the battle. 
With every new strike, the monster’s body starts to distort and parts of its body start to writhe and twist. The darkness glowing underneath starts to distort and warp. The roots holding it to Riddle's body start to sever. The monster’s distorted roars start to soften, turning weaker. 
“Is it over?” You ask. You feel safe enough to go closer, now that the monster’s body starts to sway and collapse. Riddle looks like he’s about to pass out. “Is he going to die?”
“He better not. He still needs to apologize to me!” Ace 
You sigh in relief for half a second. And the blot around Riddle swarms him. 
You don’t know what switched on within you. You hate this guy. You want to see him suffer a little, or more specifically a lot.
“Henchman!” 
So you don’t know why you ran when you did, or why you grabbed Riddle’s wrist like a vice right before his body disappeared into the mess of dark ink. You grabbed on as tight as you can,  just as the monster finally burst. 
Thick ink, scalding hot like Riddle’s burning rage, hits your skin and burns your face. You scream in reflex, and your mouth burns from the hot, bitter ink entering it. You choke on the blot. It burns. It coats you, covers you, drowns you and your vision swims. But your grip doesn’t let up. 
“_____!!!” You hear many voices screaming your name. But you can’t see them. The burning black ink falls like rain, obscuring your friends from view.
All you can feel is that overwhelmingly painful and smothering burn of the ink…but the last thing your senses pick up on before you pass out isn’t the burn on your skin, the bitterness in your mouth, or the voices of your friends.
It’s a voice.
“I…was wrong?! But that’s…impossible…”
A sad, anguished voice. The sad, anguished voice of Riddle Rosehearts.
“Isn’t it….Mother?”
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eloquentsisyphianturmoil · 6 months ago
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A considerable motivator for Sirion was actually the deaths of the middle brothers— who would’ve wanted to pursue the Silmaril further. Yes, there was the oath, but also the fear that their brother’s had died in vain.
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gu6chan · 8 months ago
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Just realised
February 2022 - Drakengard 1.3
February 2023 - Drakengard "Magnitude Negative"
February 2024 -
I'm free :')
#drakengard#gu6chan's musings#making a statement on all that soon since I'm going to be asking AL to stop hosting my works#as much as I'd LIKE to keep the reach accessible it's run by people who have caused me and others a LOT of pain and generally#the owner is a nice guy but the mods and whole community surrounding AL has done some awful shit and I've decided I just can't feel good#affiliating myself with them anymore; it's not fair to the people they've hurt and who *I* hurt trying to live up to their standards and#'community'#as far as translations in general go it's still rocky for me since like#I'd LIKE to; there's nothing I love more than being able to share these worlds and details with people#but after seeing shit like the twin theory and only being asked about 'how x fits in the lore' a million times I've come to realise that#people don't really CARE about the worlds themselves; they just see them as parts of a larger puzzle and anything that doesn't fit is just#laughed off; recontextualised or even outright disregarded#it's selfish of me to say since everyone deserves to make use of these works in their own way; even if its disagreeable or even wrong#but it's seriously demotivating as a translator to work so hard on something and just see people completely miss the point of the work and#just chop it into pieces for their typical 'it HAS to relate to nier or Drakengard 3' spiel#like people just cant respect the work in it's own right and world at all anymore it seems and it hurts#and again its selfish of me but if i knew that 1.3 and Magnitude Negative were going to be used like that I would have never translated the#there's just a lot to consider because I've found I LOVE doing it and making these things available but#i don't even know if it's worth it tbh
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gutghost · 11 months ago
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Imagine you get cheated on...BUT- the cheater turns kinda...yandere?
It felt like an awful nightmare. Bile rising in your throat as you looked at your lover - the person who you loved through their highest and their lowest, the person who you invested blood sweat and tears into, the person you promised yourself to - undoubtedly pressing their lips to another person's. It took a hot minute before you tried to step back, only for you to bump into the doorway, causing a loud thump. The two looked at you, one with horror, the other with confusion. It took you no time to turn around and make a run for it. A hiccup making its way out of your throat as you felt a sob start to shake through your body.
It's been afew months, well. More then few months since that incident, and safe to say you have been doing...fine. not great, but fine. You've decided to collect your things while your lover was away from the house, your friends and family helping you out as you found a new place to live. It was bare bones, considering you didn't take the shared couch, or tv, dressers, not even bed. But it was yours, and you've been getting by. You'd like to think you've gotten stronger.
That was until odd things started happening around your apartment. Things were being moved, shit you know you wouldn't misplace. Your clothes were going missing, much to your dismay. You barely had any, so to lose even one shirt was frustrating. Then roses started appearing in vases in your home. Seeing as actual items were showing up you decided to call the police, and when it seemed that the window to your bedroom was broken, seemingly from an outside force, they told you to invest in better security as they kept a look out.
Which is why you were going to the store so late at night, I mean, what could go wrong?
bad decision, you later decided as you looked at the scene infront of you. Your throat tight, bile rising, just like that night, the night you lost your true love. In front of you was your lover - now ex - looming disheveled, gasping for air as their voice broke, a small, unnerving, almost crazed look, crossing their features.
"My love, my everything, oh please-"
"Dont."
Your lip trembles as you step back, your look of surprise quickly turning into that of anger. They had no right to call out to you with such fondness, not after what they put you through. The pain and suffering, all due to the person who swore to love you.
A look of hurt crossed their face at the sight of you backing away from them, as if you kicked a puppy. The idea sickened you. Quick to try and close the space once more as they struggled to walk straight they would stumble forward. Their voice trembling as they fell to their knees, a whimper coming from them as they scrambled to grab at your sweatpants.
"Please - my love I beg of you, I know what i did was sin, I know - I've never been more sick in the mind then i was that night, oh I was so stupid, thinking I could ever so much as THINK of another woman! Even more so after wards, how could I think I could ever live without you??? You! Oh precious you, the sun only shines when you are near. Those next few weeks were torture my dear, I've never wanted anything more then to RIP MY SKIN OFF WHEN I REALIZED MY MISDEEDS."
Their insane rambling continued as you tried to shove them off, tears starting to stream down their gaunt cheeks. Had they been eating? You wondered as you tried to get them off you.
"I'm...i'm better now though! I've never been thinking clearer, I came to a realization life isn't worth living without you! But by then- you...- you had already left, I tore through that house to try and find you but you had already been far gone. I asked your family, your friends - but all of them simply turned me away, your LOVER - isn't that what I am? I am, aren't i?? They should've...they-"
You couldn't listen to this anymore. A disgusted feeling filling your gut. What did you ever see in them?? You quickly shoved them away, a small gasp coming from them as you stepped away, your ex lover falling backwards onto the sidewalk. A look so firey resting on your face it could rival the heat from the depths of hell.
"You lost that right. You lost it the moment you took that person into your arms, the moment you brought them into our home, the moment you pressed your lips against theirs."
They seemed dumbfounded, sobs starting to wash over their body as they tried to sputter out apologies. But you had none of it.
"Did you get a kick out of it? Seeing me suffer? Seeing me jealous as you placed your hands on that person's? Your lips on them? When i left did you just go right back to kissing on them? Fucking them??"
You spat at them, your ex lover crying their heart out as they struggle to breathe. Whether it be from guilt or heartbreak, you weren't sure. They shook their head as they continued to cry, trying once again to reach out to you, to hold onto you for that comfort you once so readily gave them. But you stepped back, putting space between you once more. A scoff coming from you as you did so
"Baby please don't do this to me, please please please-"
Their voice wavered heavily. Some part of you, the part buried deep down in your heart, ached at the sight of them so broken down. They looked ill, both mentally and physically. But what done was done. You quickly turned on your heels as you made your way home. Your ex lovers cries filling the street as he urged you to come back, to not leave him. To not abandon him.
Maybe some sick part of you felt good that you left them a blubbering mess, after all. They rept what they sown, did they not?
Little did you know, oh how blissfully unaware you were. They were gonna get you back, one way or another. They will have you back in their arms, with all those roses they left in your apartment in pretty vases all over your newly bought home in the woods, far from everyone.
They will have you be their's again.
that corpse that once used to be their side piece left rotting under the concrete of their basement proves it.
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owl-fruit · 2 years ago
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#a thought i’ve just had about the situation causing a lot of this distress is about being viewed by my friends#i react a certain way to things; not ways that i like or am proud of but it’s in the chemistry of my brain to do so#and there are things that not even therapy can fix only make tiny improvements#while i’ve been trying to find the words to explain how i perceive the world to them in realizing more than its circular#i can explain it all i want but they won’t hear it because it’s not a matter of the words anymore#my friends say they love me but i’m telling them that there are some fundamental differences in how my brain deals with things#differences caused by my ptsd and autism (and probably other things as well)#these are unchangable facts about me- they’re not perfect but they’re not inherently bad especially since i’m /trying/#but if they won’t listen and give understanding a shot then… i don’t think they understand that our baselines are different#they can’t rewire my perspective despite how much i wish they could#so if they truly loved me and accepted me- wouldn’t the loving thing be to meet me halfway? accept that i cant have the same baseline?#i know it’s easier said than done but if they can’t love me anyway for these flaws… idk what to do#and i’m not saying either of them are neurotypical because they’re not but they don’t seem to grasp exactly what my neurodivergence modes#that this is one of the ‘not-quirky’ parts that’s really easy for people to turn their nose up to#please i can be useful i can be worth it id do almost anything to prove it i just need them to see me#personal vent
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abbyromanoff · 11 months ago
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Could you do: beefy!gp!Carol who gets jealous after seeing you flirt with one of the avengers?
UNFAIR
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PAIRINGS: Carol Danvers x reader
WORD COUNT: 1,019
WARNINGS: smut, Carol has a dick, angst, break up sex, fluff, secret love, jealousy, captain!C, praise, smut, cumming on body, jerking off, no protection, pregnancy, think that’s all :)
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
“That’s not fair, Y/N.” Carol proclaimed, and you had to bite your lip to prevent further disagreeance.
“You can’t just walk around and- and act like you’re all up for grabs, that’s not fair.” You clasped your hands together at her dejected face, and she plopped on the bed with a sigh.
“Carol, we’re not together anymore, I- I can talk to who I want without consequences.” She shook her head and placed it in her hands, her fingers digging at her scalp as red nearly exploded across her face. She was angry, you both knew that, but it wasn’t just anger and frustration that coursed through her veins; it was sadness, betrayal. She had no reason to feel this way, like you said, you weren’t even hers anymore. But she still felt a lingering pain deep in her chest, it felt worse than any bruise you’d tend to.
“But I still love you-“
“But you can’t, Carol. You can’t keep doing this to yourself, you deserve to move on and be happy.” There was a silence filling the room, and for a moment you thought she might’ve wanted you to leave. Which you began doing before you heard a mumbled whisper. You turned, asking for the repetition you needed.
“But I want to be happy with you. I am happy with you, why won’t you just accept that? Why won’t you accept me?” You gulped, your voice seeming to hide with it as you shook from a sigh.
“We weren’t good for each other.” She stood suddenly, and your hand was taken in hers for a soft peck.
“But you were good for me. You made me feel things I never felt before, and I want to be with you again. Please, I- I promise I’ll change! Whatever you need, I’ll do it all. I’ll do anything for you, dove.” Her pleading eyes had always been impossible to ignore, and the same continued even now. You couldn’t resist her, she was the love of your life, after all.
“Just one last time, okay? We’ll have sex, and in the morning I’ll be gone, deal?” She wanted you to stay, but she knew this was the best chance she’d have at seeing you again. If she said no, who knows if you’d ever come back.
“I’ll make it worth your while then, Y/N.”
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“Fuck, I’m- I’m so close, baby.” The woman mumbled, and you had to stifle a moan that still found its way out of you.
“I know, Carol, I know, sweetheart.” Your fingers dug threw her hair, your nails scratching her scalp softly in a soothing manner. Her eyes fluttered shut as her free hand fell to your hardened nipple, the other landing on your cheek as she used her thumb to stroke the soft skin.
“Can I…can I kiss you?” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. But you nodded, and she instantly drew you in for a passionate, loving kiss. She noticed the goosebumps along your skin, and she drew back for only a moment, her lips lingering against yours as you begged internally for more.
“I know you’re cold, just hold onto me.” Your arms went around her back, your legs wrapping around her ass as tears threatened to escape you. You sighed in relief when her mouth met yours again, and her body heated up to the perfect temperature to keep you warm.
“Please, captain, I want you to cum in me.” She shook, and her thrusts were coming to a halt. But she kept up, determined to force your quickening arrival first. And the moment you hit your peak and eventually regained your breath, she immediately drew out, stroking her cock until reaching her peak. Her coil snapped, and her release painted your body. You looked up at her, confused as to why she dismissed your request.
“I don’t want you to make a decision you’ll regret. If you’re serious about..about leaving me, then I’m not going to get you pregnant and force you to handle something you can’t.” She seemed hurt at the thought, you always knew she wanted a kid, a family. She wanted that family with you, however, and you caught yourself daydreaming about the same possibility she offered you.
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“You didn’t leave.” She noted, and you turned to face her with a grin, the towel covering your wet body. The shower had streaks of steam running down it, and she could tell by your looks that you had just finished taking one.
“No, I didn’t.” She sat up instantly, and you bit your lip at her exposed chest through the see-through tank top. Her nipples were hard under the cold aroma, and all you could imagine was wrapping your lips around them and hearing her groans of pleasure.
“Are you going to?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“…I know a good diner if you’re willing to stay long enough for breakfast.”
“Sure, I’d like that.” You never would’ve expected close to a year later that you would continue to lie next to her, your hands interlacing as her free one was set on her book. Her reading glasses were on the brink of her nose, and you looked out the window to admire the scenery.
“I still can’t believe you took me to space.” She chuckled, placing a kiss on the back of your palm as she followed your gaze.
“It’s pretty great isn’t it?” You hummed, receiving a wrap of arms around your body. Her book was now in front of you, and she read it quietly in your ear. You cuddled into her chest, poking her strong biceps that she teasingly flexed.
“Thank you for not giving up on me, Carol.” She paused, taking a moment to leave soft pecks on your neck.
“I could never give up on you; on us.” She rubbed her thumb over your swollen stomach, smiling softly as she spoke a greeting to the arriving young girl.
“The moment we land on Earth, nothing can stop me from meeting my little one.”
“As long as I have you two, I’ll be okay.”
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theprettynosferatu · 1 year ago
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Oh, you're awake. Finally. Please, look at the picture on the screen. 
You recognize her, I suppose. Look at how silly she looks, trying to be tough, trying to look cool. All that leather and black and studs… doesn't she look ridiculous? 
I see you nodding. Good. The special drink is grabbing hold of your brain. Making it softer. Malleable. You really should be more careful about accepting treats from strangers… but I suppose you won't have to worry about that anymore. Or anything else. 
Now, let's look at your social media. Lord, isn't that pathetic. Trying so hard to be clever, to be snarky, to be rebellious. It's almost endearing, like a puppy trying to walk in its hind legs. Come on, we both know it's all just a costume, don't we? One you've worn for so long you mistakenly believe it's a personality- one you developed when you were a teen. One you need to grow out of. 
Please, don't struggle. The knots are quite secure, I assure you. I've done this too many times to count. Why are you resisting, anyway? Do you truly, deep down believe this personality of yours is worth saving? Worth fighting for? Doesn't it just look as the pathetic attempt by a dumb girl to pretend to be something more? 
Ah. I see you squirming. Was it the "dumb girl" comment? I suspect it was. Your pussy knows I'm right, and it's screaming its approval. It's screaming for you to accept its truth, pulsing with neediness and wet with anticipation… I wonder what it is about that word. “Dumb"... it does have an effect on you, tough girl. Dumb. Silly. Stupid girl. My oh my, is that a moan that just escaped your lips? I’m sure it was. Feeling softer, are we? 
Softer indeed… I’m sure you can sense it still… the way it’s becoming harder and harder to focus. The way a pink cloud seems to be permeating your consciousness. The way you half-perceive the faint scent of cotton candy. The way you are getting more and more soaked by the second. 
Oh, stop struggling. Tell me, why do you hate it so much? The idea of actually being a cute, silly, horny girl? I can see it in your eyes- the loathing. The searing, pure anger. Why, though? I suppose you are imagining all those girls, those popular girls, those slutty girls, those bimbos that soaked up all the attention and the praise. Am I wrong? I don’t think I am. But I do think you are hiding. Yes, hiding what really happened. You tell yourself a story, one that makes you look good, or so you think. That you’re better than them. Stronger than them. More independent than them. A free thinker! A rebel punk feminist! But that’s not the whole story, is it now? No, we both know what really happened. You surrendered. 
Yes, that’s it. Your eyes can’t lie, you know. You surrendered because you could never, ever be like them, be as giggly and flirty and free- so you decided you wouldn’t compete with them on their own terms, and modeled yourself to be their opposite. How pathetic is that? Even in your resistance, you could only be defined by them, by your rejection of them. You became their dark mirror, and soaked in the attention of the leather-wearing so-called “punks” and the geeks and all the other rejects. But you know why they even looked at you: because the other girls, the pretty girls, the girls in pink wouldn't even deign to turn their gaze towards them. You were always… what they settled for. 
You think I’m being cruel. Well, I won’t deny that I get some pleasure from throwing the truth at your face. It’s always so much fun to watch you all fight, and moan, and deny that they would do anything, anything at all to be able to finger fuck yourselves to oblivion… But believe me, my cruelty has a purpose. I wouldn’t be doing this to you if I didn’t have a higher goal in mind. A benevolent one. 
I can take it all away. All that resentment, that anger, that anxiety… that constant, pointless quest to be… what? A professional? A successful woman? An independent soul? Please. That’s only so much set dressing. I can strip those delusions from you, give you what you really want. 
Imagine it with me. Tight white jeans showing off your ass, the shape of your legs. A pink tank-top, proudly proclaiming yourself to be a princess in tacky, gold lettering. The men turning their heads as you walk. Everyone being so nice to you at parties… because they want to see you on your knees, licking and sucking and worshiping their cocks, because they want to bend you over and use your slutty pussy as their plaything. And you… you would love it. 
No more fear. No more stress. Just the bliss of sucking three cocks, going from one yummy dick to the next, squeezing your titties together to give them the spectacle of their lifetimes. And then your cunt being filled, that hole you now hold your rage in given meaning and purpose by becoming a living set of holes for men to use, sensing the simple, plain joy of knowing you are doing what you were meant to do with your life. Knowing you are wanted. Desired. 
I see you’re drooling. Sounds like you like my little proposal. Well, there’s one simple way to sign this pact with me. You don’t even have to speak- speaking seems so hard now, doesn’t it? So keep quiet and let your slutty body do the talking for you. Keep your mouth open. 
There. Good girl. Doesn’t my cock look tempting? Amazing? Like you could just suck it forever? Yes, good girl… now, let me fuck your mouth- and know my cock is only the first of many. Too many to count. 
Then again, by this point you can’t count too high, can you?
Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu !
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epicbuddieficrecs · 2 months ago
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Favorite Season 6 fics
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So these used to be called "Fic recs for my BFF", but unfortunately I was unable to sway her to buddie, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ these are just for me now (and you guys too I guess 😅)
Season 6
🔥Curl Up in My Heart and Let Me Keep You by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Animal Transformation | 10K | Teen): When an orange tabby cat starts hanging around the Diaz house, Eddie doesn't think anything of it. The little guy's cute and cuddly, and seems to always know when Eddie's having a bad time. Weird how the cat's never around when Buck is, though.
🔥let the world have its way with you by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Post-Coma AU | 54K | Explicit): “It’s just that—I died,” Buck continues, voice unsteady enough that Eddie wonders if this is the first time he’s acknowledged that out loud. “I died, and there’s so much more. There’s so much more I want to do, things I don’t even know I want to do yet, and I almost had the chance to have and live them taken away. I don’t want to die and regret missing out on everything else, Eddie.” “So let’s make a list,” Eddie says. “Let’s do them.” or, a bucket list that’s really about buck needing to make a change and an eddie who’s ready to do anything to see him fall in love with life again. it takes some crossing off for eddie to realise—the thing at the top of the list in his own heart? it’s been right here all along
🔥like a dog with a bird at your door by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Post-S6, Getting Together | 51K | Explicit): The kid with blood pouring down his shins is not so far from the dog lonely enough that he thinks breaking his housetraining is worth it for the ten minutes of berating that come with it, the ten minutes of undivided, if reluctant, attention. Buck thinks, sometimes, that at least he wasn’t the kind of puppy that gets put in a sack and drowned at birth. He wasn’t always unwanted. And he isn’t anymore. or, evan “i love you like a dog” buckley has only ever known how to love like, well, a dog, but maybe eddie diaz is the kinda guy to give a flea-bitten mongrel a forever home
🔥Something Dumb to Do by glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (Post-S6, Getting Together | 8K | Explicit): "Too bad we can't just date each other." Eddie laughs. "What?" "No, I'm serious!" Buck sets his beer down, the better to gesture with both hands, face lighting up, and Eddie just—he really loves the guy, okay. Ridiculous as he is. "It would be so much easier! You wouldn't have to introduce a new person to Chris—he already likes me anyway—and you could tell Pepa so she'll stop setting you up on dates that don't go anywhere—" "And what would you get out of this?" Eddie asks, grinning. — Or: Buck and Eddie try something out together. (Part 1 of homeward bound)
🔥find a way to you (if it kills me) by foxwatson/ @eddiediazes (Post S6E13: Mixed Feelings, Pining | 19K | Mature): It’s something about the way Eddie phrases it. Something about the combination of his words and the way he’s staring down at the floor, and the flush in his cheeks and the way he’s fidgeting. Buck thinks, abruptly, he’s going to ask me on a date. “Well I - wanted to tell you first, and I need someone to watch Chris, anyways - I know he’s getting old enough now he doesn’t like feeling like he’s got a babysitter, so I was hoping - sorry. Not the point. Uh. I have a date on Saturday.” Just as abruptly as his own hopes had come soaring up above the cloud cover of his own unawareness - they go crashing back down to the floor - to the basement, and into the mud. “A date?” Buck rasps out. — the one where eddie decides to start dating again, buck figures out his own feelings just a minute too late, and then he spends a week going through the five stages of grief
🔥Being Eddie by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Time Travel, Post-S6, Getting Together | 80K | Teen): When Eddie starts seeing a new therapist, he’s presented with the opportunity to revisit several days from his past and right regrets that still bother him. OR: Eddie goes through the time travel therapy process of the 2009 Canadian TV show Being Erica.
🔥 Evan Buckley & The Coma-Verse of Madness by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Coma AU, Multiverse | 58K | Teen): After being struck by lightning on a call, Buck experiences a plethora of alternate realities showing him different directions his life could have taken. Fighting hard to get home, Buck learns what, or who, is important to him in every lifetime.
🔥 Both Blade and Branch by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S6 | 62K | Mature): The chances of being struck by lightning twice are incredibly minute, but Buck still manages to pull it off. During a double date with Marisol and Natalia, nonetheless. Eddie manages to resuscitate him, but as Buck recovers from yet another trauma, Eddie can’t help but notice there’s something very different about him. He’s not quite sure what version of Buck he got back.
🔥 where all of the people dancing and clapping would greet me with such warmth by trysetmeonfire/ @try-set-me-on-fire (Season 6, Magical Realism | 15K | Mature): In the fall, Buck begins to disappear. (or: Buck can see that people become transparent when they're about to die) (Part 2 of All I Am, All That I Am)
🔥 Ace of Hearts by glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (Post-S6, Getting Together | 9K | Teen): "I've been wondering…" Maddie pauses, watches Buck make a face like he's bracing to be smacked. "What happened with Eddie? You two were dancing around it for so long, and then… what, it just didn't work out? Was the date really that bad?" She's expecting another wince, or even for him to duck out of the conversation entirely, but instead Buck is staring at her like she's grown a second head. "Maddie. I've never been on a date with Eddie." Or: the poker game was a date. It takes Buck a while to catch on, though.
🔥 situations, circumstances, miscommunications ( i just may like some explanations ) by heartbeatdiaz / @lonelychicago (Didn't Know They Were Dating | 4K | Teen): "You didn't know?" Eddie asks, calmer but not less confused. He frowns. "How could you not know?" "You never said anything?" Buck tilts his head to the side. "We were dating?” “I guess not,” Eddie sighs. His heart is beating a little faster, an unpleasant buzz beneath his skin as he all but chokes on a feeling he can’t quite name— it could be hurt or disappointment or maybe a mix of both. In that moment, he knows three things very clearly. 1. Buck is going to be the death of him. 2. He is in love with the most dense, most oblivious man on planet Earth. 3. He is too gay and, honestly, too old for this shit.
🔥listen to you breathing (is where I wanna be) by Yavilee/ @theladyyavilee (Presumed Dead | 41K | Teen): The thing is – and Eddie should have known this, has been taught this cruel lesson over and over and over again – the thing is most of the time the worst day of your life will start like just any other day. A million small moments, so familiar and mundane you almost don’t even notice them slipping by - until you would give anything to go back and get just one more. (You can’t.) — Or the one where Buck is presumed dead after a building collapse and Eddie has to live through the reminder that tomorrow isn't promised to anyone
🔥Eddie Diaz vs The Feelings by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (Season 6, Sexuality Crisis, Demisexual Eddie | 62K | Explicit): Eddie dives into the mysteries of attraction, romantic love, and asexuality because there's a good chance he's fallen in love with his best friend. AKA demisexual!Eddie figures out he’s demi and finds the happily ever after he’s been longing for
🔥tomorrow will always and forever now be today (tomorrow is our always and forever) by withmeornotatall/ @chronicowboy (Post-S6, Time Loop | 43K | Mature): "Think I can get a hug from my best man on my wedding day?" he asks, quietly hopeful in a way that makes Eddie want to tear off his skin. "Sure," Chris replies with a shrug, turning to throw Eddie a cheeky grin. "Dad, Buck needs a hug." Two things happen at once then: Eddie has to plaster on a smile authentic enough to convince the one person on this planet that knows him inside out—except he doesn't really have to fake his smile, not at first, because of number two—he sees groom-Buck for the first time. And groom-Buck is every bit as beautiful as Eddie might have imagined him over the years. For a moment, Eddie falls into the greatest betrayal his brain has ever laid out for him, imagining that he might have got to see Buck like this for the first time from the other end of the aisle— (OR: eddie gets trapped in a time loop on the day buck marries natalia)
🔥 Muscle Memory by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S6, Amnesia AU | 40K | Teen): After a disappointment in his personal life, Buck wakes up one morning to find everyone he loves has forgotten him completely. No memories. No recognition. Almost like he was never really there.
🔥 but i can see all along, love (it was you all the way down) by diazchristopher/ @captain-hen (Post-S6, Time Loop | 28K Mature): He puts his laptop away after a bit, and paces the length of his apartment as he tries to take stock of the situation at hand. One: The date is March 22nd, 2024. Two: It has been March 22nd for 3 days now. Three: Buck is trapped in some kind of time loop that is forcing him to relive this day. Four: Eddie is, apparently, in love with him. And. And. Five: Buck doesn’t feel the same way.
🔥 a blaze in the dark by woodchoc_magnum/ @woodchoc-magnum (Post-S6, Eddie Coming Out | 117K | Explicit): Set post-Season 6, where Buck has inadvertently sacrificed his friendship with Eddie in order to focus on his new relationship with Natalia, and is shocked when Eddie comes out to the team and subsequently reveals that he is dating a guy.
AUs
🔥Nothing Left But You by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars ("Blip" AU, Post-S4E13: Suspicion | 27K | Teen | Warning: MCD): In May of 2021, 25% of Earth's population suddenly disappears. Including Eddie. In May of 2026, they all come back. Eddie finds himself suddenly in the middle of a world he doesn't recognize, where the people he loves most have changed significantly.
🔥 Your Love is an Oil Slick (It Glows like Rainbows, It Stains My Soul) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Canon Divergent - Supernatural Elements, Ghost Buck | 67K | Explicit): When Eddie's son claims he has an imaginary friend, Eddie doesn't think much of it. Christopher is seven, it's what kids do. But then weird things start happening around the house, and Eddie starts dreaming about a handsome blue-eyed man. Turns out, Christopher's friend isn't so imaginary. Their house is haunted.
🔥like when the sun came out by spaceprincessem/ @spaceprincessem (Canon Divergent, Ghosts | 39K | Mature): He completely pulls the charger from the wall as he fumbles to put in his passcode. He doesn’t know who to call first. Everyone is busy, carrying on with their lives and Buck is stuck here in the loft with the terrifying ghost of his childhood like an omen. Out of the corner of his eye he catches the Crooked Smiled Man now standing in the dark entrance way to his bathroom. He swallows around the taste of blood in his mouth, hands shaking, useless as his list of contacts blur beneath the burn of tears. Eddie Eddie Eddie. He doesn’t know where the feeling comes from, but it’s sudden and sharp and excruciating. Eddie is the first name at the top of his list, his most recent calls and texts, and he doesn’t hesitate to hit the call button. [or buck can see ghosts au]
🔥All My Shattered Oaths by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Vampires AU | 107K | Explicit): Eddie wants to stay away from his family’s legacy and give his son a normal life. Buck’s desperate to find a way to get over the love he lost. Fate has other plans for both of them.
🔥 Further Than Blood (Or Than Bones) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Vampires AU | 50K | Explicit): Once, Eddie chose to save a newly turned against his better judgment. Five hundred years ago, Buck was saved by a rescuer he thought was a hallucination. Now they're together again and about to find out just how far either of them will go to try and deny what they are to each other.
🔥 let it pour out of your soul series by Rianne/ @rianneeyre (Magical Realism AU, Witch Eddie | 3 works | 71K | Complete):
collectively unconsciously composed (S4E6: Jinx | 46K | Explicit): Or: in which the author re-watched Buck Begins and Jinx and thought: what if this was gayer and had actual magic?
that systematic drug (PWP | 5K | Explicit): Eddie’s mouth goes dry when he opens the door and sees Buck. He’s clean-shaven and with his hair carefully styled back, smiling at Eddie sweetly and a little teasingly. Buck is wearing his dark jeans and his light blue v-neck polo shirt, the one that’s tight enough that it shows off the bulge of his biceps and the definition of his pecs and abs. Eddie knows this shirt. Buck's favourite, because he knows he looks good in it.
something binding us together (Established Buddie | 20K | Teen): Or: Eddie plans a long-avoided visit to his parents, discovers some things about his magic, and begins to build his family a home in LA's witching community.
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rhysandsfavwhore · 27 days ago
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Sweet Dreams
Rhysand x fem!reader
content; stressed and clingy Rhys (i honestly dont know why i like writing about a stressed clingy rhys for), fluff
notes; okay ik this doesn’t completely match up with Rhys’ backstory but its okay☺️
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Ink covers his tanned hands as they grip onto the desk, a result of days and days worth of paperwork. He was writing back to all the courts, gathering plans and information on Hybern.
However, it seems he doesn't have a responsibility of taking care of himself. The pile of uneaten food on the floor directly below his window, his sunken eyes and haunted look is all proof of that fact.
As his childhood friend, you were especially worried for him. He isn't himself. granted, he witnessed and been through much more, but looked like he had lost it.
“If you wanted to see me, you should have just asked.” Rhys sighs, attempting to straighten the mess that is his desk.
“And would you have let me? See you, that is.” You respond, crossing your arms at him. You had made her way in here after claiming his window was ‘broken.’
“I've been busy.” He offers.
“Right.” You nods, her gaze distant, understanding his pressure and mounds of work to get through.
“You know, I think your window is broken. Food always seems to be falling from it.” You says, your brows raising. “You want to explain this to me?”
“No.”
“Rhys.”
“No” He corrects coldly. He then watches her straighten, and feels a twinge of guilt. He takes a few deep breaths, closing his eyes and slowly opening them again.
"Rhys..” you try again, hoping to get anything more than one word from him.
“That will be all, Y/N”
“Rhys, wait-”
“That will be all ”
“Let me help you fix the window. Please. It doesn't have to stay broken.” You says. something in your expression tells Rhys your not just talking about the window, anymore.
“I'm afraid it's beyond repair.” he replies, barely above a whisper.
“oh Rhys” you say, walking over to him and running a hand through his hair. “nothing cannot be fixed”
He allows himself to close his eyes after you run your hand through his messy hair, and he practically melts into your touch. He’d miss this. He’d miss you. He hadn’t seen you all week.
“How can you be sure?” He counters, and it’s almost a challenge.
“because that ‘window’ is not broken, it just needs a hand, and thats what I’m here for.”
He can’t find the strength to fight you on it any longer. He’s tired, both mentally and physically. He can feel the bags under his eyes weighing him down.
He leans into you for comfort, placing his head on your chest and wrapping his arms around you. It was a move he hasn’t done since he was a young child, and the memory of his childhood days was almost enough to make him cry.
All he could manage was a weak “I’ve missed you.”
“ive missed you too Rhys” you said, your voice almost breaking. after everything you’ve seen him go through, you couldn’t understand why this hit so hard, but you didn’t want to pry.
Rhys holds you tighter, his grip desperate and needy. Your familiar warmth was almost enough to make him gasp. He’d missed you so much, being cooped up in his office all day just left him with his own thoughts, and he almost drowned in them.
He needed you, here, now.
“shh, im here” you cooed, running fingers through his hair.
The simple, yet affectionate gesture was enough to make Rhys eyes water. He wanted to speak, wanted to say anything to express how he was feeling, but he was afraid that if he even opened his mouth- he’d burst into tears.
So he stayed like that, his arms around your middle and his head pressed against you, listening to your heartbeat. The steady rhythm was like a metronome, and he found himself getting calmer with each thump. This side of him was one he was embarrassed to show, one even you and only seen on few occasions.
you pressed a kiss to the top of his head and allowed him to stay comfortably resting on you, not wanting to disturb he one moment of peace he has had in days.
Rhys felt warmth bloom in his chest as you kissed the top of his head. It was something you used to do all the time when you were kids, and the action itself was enough to bring a few tears to Rhys’ eyes.
“Thank you for checking on me,” He mumbled out the words into your shirt. “I’ve been really out of it, lately.”
“i know, i know. come on you need some rest” you said before taking him by the hand and leading him to his bedroom.
Rhys, while a bit surprised, lets you lead him over to his bed without protest. You could see the exhaustion in his weary eyes, he needed sleep, and he didn’t even realize it.
When you reach the edge of the bed, he stops, and seems to hesitate before laying down. He’s still holding your hand, and makes no move to let go.
you stand, unsure weather you should pull away from his grip or not. “ill go grab you some water, get some sleep” you say, deciding leaving him to rest was your best option.
Rhys’ hand gripped yours tighter in reaction, and you could see a hint of panic in his expression. “Don’t go.” He muttered.
He really did look like a lost little kid at the moment. His hair was messy, his eyes were tired, and his clothes disheveled.
You smiled slightly at him and gave a small nod and you lay on the edge of the bed, slightly propped up against the headboard, unsure what to do.
Almost as if he were magnetized, Rhys quickly moves over to you, and lays down on the bed next to you. He doesn’t let go of your hand, instead he intertwines his fingers with yours.
He can’t bring himself to move his gaze away from you, he looks at you with the eyes of a man starved; who finally found some water. He just needed you now.
You gently ran his free had down the side of his face giving him a sweet smile.
Rhys leaned into the soft touch of your hand against the side of his face. He couldn’t help but close his eyes for a second, savoring the feeling of your fingers on his skin. Every little touch sent his heart racing.
He opened his eyes after a moment, and gave you a weak smile. “You always used to do that.” He muttered out the words just loud enough for you to hear, “Whenever I couldn’t sleep.”
“i know” you gave him a soft smile and kept your reassuring movements going.
Rhys was practically purring at the feeling of your fingers against his skin. The combination of it and his exhaustion was making his eyelids feel incredibly heavy.
He moved himself closer, until his head was rested against your chest. He could hear the rhythmic thump of your heartbeat through your shirt, and it almost made him yawn.
You were shocked at how close he got to you. a part of you relaxed knowing that you always wanted to be more than friends but scared to tell him and thought maybe, he now felt the same, but you brushed the thought aside knowing he needed his friend now, not a girl pinning over him.
He shifted on the bed, until he was resting mostly on top of you. He wrapped his arms around your midsection, his grip desperate and almost needy.
He was silently begging you to stay with him, even if he didn’t realize it. He buried his head against your chest, and let out a shaky breath.
“get some sleep Rhys” you sighed, smoothing your hands down his back.
Rhys could feel the steady rise and fall of your chest as your hands move up and down his back, the sensation was hypnotizing.
He couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer, and he found himself drifting off to sleep. He mumbled something, but it was inaudible with his face buried into your shirt.
As he drifted off, you whispered, so quite you could hardly hear yourself, “i love you Rhys” hoping he was asleep.
But he wasn’t asleep, and he’d heard.
He felt his heart flutter in his chest, and a warm feeling began to bloom in his chest. You loved him. You loved him?
He didn’t speak, and he didn’t move. He pretended that he was asleep. He wanted to hear more.
“i love you Rhys, i always have” you whispered, thinking out loud as you ran your hands through his hair, thinking this is the closest you will every get to being more than a best friend to him.
The words echoed in Rhys’ head, over and over again. You loved him. You always had.
He could’ve laughed, he certainly wanted to. Had he really been that dense?
He could feel your fingers running through his messy hair, and it was enough of a distraction to keep him from exploding with emotions right there.
“sweet dreams Rhys”
——————————————
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breezeflows · 3 months ago
Text
The Long Road (Stanford Pines x Reader)
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Chapter 2
Chapter 2 is here yippee!! I feel like these first few chapters are kind of slow but it’ll be worth it i swear!! And also a huge thank you to everyone for showing the first chapter so much love! It means the world to me. Now with all that aside here is Chapter 2! <3
Themes: This chapter is prettyyy sappy, Ford and Reader sort of make up? (Let’s see how long that lasts) sad feelings, small arguments, kissing, yearning, etc all the stuff that’s blanching okay anyways
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The next day you find yourself sitting in a booth at Greasy’s Diner, idly stirring creamer into your cup of coffee. The diner is relatively quiet, the only sounds coming from the occasional clinking of silverware against plates and the soft hum of the AC unit. The smell of bacon and fried eggs wafts through the air, and sunlight streams through the large windows, casting the small diner in a warm glow. You take a sip of your coffee, the caffeine working its way into your system as you try to distract yourself from the thoughts of yesterday’s events.
You’re soon brought out of your trance as your close friend Lizzy arrives, sliding her way into the booth in front of you. Her strong perfume drifts through the air as she tucks her curly blonde hair behind her ears, showing off the golden hoops she’s adorning as she readjusts her bright green V-neck. She reaches into her purse, grabbing a bright red lipstick and begins applying it as she speaks.
“Sorry I’m late doll. Traffic was a total nightmare!”
Your face warms at the presence of your close friend, although it doesn’t seem to ease the heartache you’re feeling from your previous encounter with Ford. Your hurt being evident in your tone as you reply.
“It’s no problem Liz.”
Lizzy’s gaze instantly meets yours as she pauses, catching onto your tone immediately. She studies you for a moment, lowering the red lipstick as she takes in your tired eyes and solemn expression.
“Hey, you okay?” she asks gently, voice laced with concern. “You look like you’ve been through the wringer.”
You sigh, your shoulders drooping as you begin to explain your situation to Lizzy.
“I don’t even know where to start,” you say, fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater. (Ford’s sweater ahem ahem) “Things have been… hectic, to say the least. My relationship with Ford has been falling apart, and I feel like I’ve been living with a ghost these past few weeks. He’s been completely immersed in his research, and he barely even acknowledges my presence anymore.”
Lizzy watches you carefully with a frown, her brows furrowed in concern.
You continue, your voice faltering slightly as you recall the recent events. “Yesterday morning, we had a tense conversation where he basically said that his research is more important to him than our marriage. And then one of our old friends from college showed up and it made the situation even worse.”
Lizzy listens intently as you speak, her expression filled with sympathy. Once you finish explaining everything, she reaches across the table and takes your hand in hers, giving it a comforting squeeze.
“I’m so sorry you’re going through all of this Y/N,” she says soothingly. “You deserve so much better than that doll. And you should definitely get out of that house for a bit and clear your mind. How about you come stay at my place for a couple of weeks? You don’t need to deal with all of this...” she waves her free hand around as she continues. “Man-stress, alone.”
A wave of gratitude washes over you at Lizzy’s offer, and you can feel the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. She really was an amazing friend. You take a deep breath, trying to compose yourself.
“Are you sure?” you ask. “I don’t want to impose or anything.”
Lizzy chuckles dismissively, giving you a reassuring smile.
“You won’t be imposing on anything Y/N. I’ve got a spare room in my apartment, and it’ll be nice to have some company other than my boyfriend. Plus, a change of scenery might do you some good.”
You take a second to consider her offer, weighing the pros and cons in your mind. The idea of getting away from everything for awhile was tempting, and spending time with a good friend is always a nice thought. You take another deep breath, pushing down the small voice in your head that is telling you to stay and make things right with Ford. You knew he wasn’t going to change his mind anytime soon, or at least it felt that way.
“Okay,” you finally say, your voice slightly stronger now. “I’ll stay with you for a while. Thank you, Liz, you have no idea how much this means to me.”
Her smile widens, and she gives your hand another squeeze. “Of course chick,” she says. “What are friends for right?” She then reaches over and takes your coffee, thoughtfully taking a sip of the not-so-hot liquid.
“So, do you need help packing a bag, or do you want to go back home first to get your things?”
You think for a moment before replying. “I can head back to the house to pack a bag, but I’ll probably need to leave the car for Ford in case he needs it. Could you pick me up around 3:00?”
Lizzy nods in understanding, a slight frown on her face at the mention of Ford. Even when the two of you were fighting you still looked out for him, it was admirable.
“Yeah, of course,” she says. “I’ll be there at three. Text me when you’re packed and ready, and I’ll head over to pick you up. Just focus on getting what you need, and don’t worry about anything else, kay?”
You down the rest of your now-shared coffee, feeling a sense of relief at the prospect of getting away from the stressful atmosphere of your house. You thank your friend once again for her kindness, promising to message her once you’re ready to be picked up. With a small wave you leave the diner, heading back towards your house to pack a bag and prepare for your temporary stay at Lizzy’s.
As you make your way back to the cabin you realize walking may not have been the smartest choice. The skies have darkened, and the air has grown crisper. Large, plump raindrops begin to fall, creating a soft patter against the pavement. The once bright and sunny day has transformed into a dreary, rainy afternoon, the weather seeming to reflect your current situation.
You quicken your pace, the sound of rain getting louder as it hits the ground and the surrounding trees. The house soon comes into view, standing tall and imposing against the grey sky. Your clothes and hair become soaked with rain as you speed towards the front door, swinging it open and shutting it behind you.
As you step into the house, the heavy door closing behind you with a soft thump, you are surprised to find Ford standing in the entryway. He looks the same as before, tired, and a bit weathered. Although he seems taken aback by your appearance, his eyes flickering with surprise and… something else.
“You’re soaked,” he says, a hint of concern in his voice. “What happened?”
You turn your gaze from him as you shed your coat, revealing his old sweater underneath as you place it on a nearby hook.
“I went out with Lizzy for a late breakfast and got caught in the rain.”
Ford watches you as you hang your coat and begin to remove your shoes. He notices the slight distance in your voice, and the way you avoid his gaze. He knows deep down there’s more to it than just a simple breakfast with a friend. He hesitates a moment before speaking.
“I see,” he says slowly. “So, you two just… had breakfast?”
A sigh escapes you as you sit up straight, finally meeting his gaze.
“Yep.”
Ford’s jaw clenches slightly as he studies you, clearly sensing that there’s more to the story than you’re letting on.
“That’s it?” He presses, a note of skepticism in his voice.
“I’m going to be staying at her place for a couple of weeks.”
His eyes widen at your response, his lips parting in surprise. The hint of skepticism in his voice grows stronger as he takes a small step towards you.
“Wait a minute,” he says. “How long..?”
You turn your head from him with a frown, hugging your arms as you speak in a quiet yet frustrated tone.
“I’ll be out of your hair this way and you can focus on your project with Fiddleford, since it obviously takes higher priority.”
Ford’s eyes widen even further, a mix of shock and pain crossing his face at your words. His hands clench at his sides as he processes what you’ve just said, his mind reeling.
“What are you talking about?” he asks, his tone now filled with frustration. “You’re treating this like I just want to get rid of you, like I don’t-“ He pauses closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Like what Stanford?” you step forward, beginning to become angry with him. “Don’t act as though you didn’t tell me that your research is bigger than our relationship. You’ve tossed everything aside but now that I’m leaving for a few weeks you’re suddenly concerned?”
His eyes snap open at your outburst, scowling as his expression was a mix of frustration and guilt.
“You’re twisting my words,” he snaps. “I never said my research was bigger than our marriage. I just…” He falls silent, his anger deflating slightly as he looks at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of pleading in remorse.
“I just need some time to focus on this project,” he continues, softer now, his frustration giving way to desperation. “But that doesn’t mean I wanted you to leave. I… I never wanted that Y/N. Never.”
Your anger and resolve begin to crumble at his pleading state, your eyes softening as they meet his. You find your legs moving on their own as you step towards him, your arms slowly reaching to wrap around his middle. You rest your cheek on Ford’s shoulder, inhaling his scent. A mixture of pine and musk, with a tinge of smoke.
He lets out a shaky breath as you approach him, his rigid stance relaxing as you embraced him. His own hands eventually find your back, hesitating for a moment, but soon returning the embrace. He holds you as close to him as possible, trembling slightly as he buried his face in your hair.
“I don’t want you to leave,” he whispered, his voice muffled, but filled with a combination of mixture and despair.
“Please don’t leave me.”
You tighten your arms around him, your voice soft and reassuring.
“I’m not leaving you Ford,” you speak, your breath warm against his neck. “I just think we both need a bit of space right now. I need time to sort out my thoughts, and I think getting away for awhile will help with that. But I promise you I’m not leaving you.”
Ford’s grip on you tightens slightly at your words, as if he is afraid to let you go. His body tremors faintly as he absorbs your reassurance, his voice a mixture of relief and resignation.
“How long?” he asks with a vulnerable tone. “How long will you be gone?”
You pull back, just enough to look him in the eyes. You reach up, gently cupping his face in your hands, and he leans into your touch.
“Just a couple of weeks at most,” your thumb stroked his cheek as you spoke, giving him a look of sympathy. “When I get back, we can work through this, alright?”
His eyes search yours, his expression now one of understanding. Ford nods slowly, his hands moving to cover yours, his calloused fingers gripping your wrists gently.
“Alright. But please stay in touch. I need to know you’re okay.”
You manage to give him a soft smile and a nod, before leaning in and pressing a tender kiss to his lips. Ford’s eyes fluttered shut at the unexpected gesture, a small sound of surprise escaping him. His hands grip yours even tighter, his body leaning into yours as the kiss lingers for a moment.
After sharing a few more, you finally pull back. Ford’s eyes open, and he gazes at you with a look of surprise and yearning. A slight flush of pink is apparent on his features, his lips parted and slightly reddened from the act. He observes you for a moment, before bringing your knuckles to his lips, placing a gentle kiss there as if trying to hold on to this moment for as long as possible.
“I’ll miss you,” he spoke tenderly. “Don’t forget about me while you’re gone, okay?”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Sixer.”
Ford’s heart skips a beat at the familiar nickname, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He pulls you closer, enveloping you in his embrace once more, large calloused hands wrapping around your back.
“Good,” he murmurs, resting his chin atop of your head.
“Because I’ll be counting the days until you come back.”
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tags :) - @artistic-gato @karmaisacatluzi @therottenheartofscum
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miguelhugger2099 · 10 months ago
Note
Omg first off LOVE!!! your wiring literally *chef’s kiss* imagine Miguel x reader suggestive smut where they’ve been both super busy and haven’t had time for each other and tension has been building up to this point.
Worth the Wait
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nonie im gonna sob. not only was i so excited to see you be my first ask, this is also my first ever written smut!! aaaa im so nervous so please have mercy !! i jumped on my laptop as soon as i saw this and its so late right now haha im a little tired but i didnt want you to wait at all !! im not sure if i wrote too much or too little lol regardless i really hope you enjoy and if not i'm more than happy to make something else and thank you sososo much for the compliment <3333 the ask wasnt specified if it was fem!reader or not so i made it gn!reader just in case <3 Miguel x GN!Reader, Smut, too embarrassed to proofread it, Word Count: 3,681
“Hey, Miguel, do you think you could stay late tonight? Boss wants you in the lab for testing.” A short woman popped her head in his room, her hair neatly tucked in a high bun. Miguel stopped his pacing in his office, his glasses lifted on his head using it as a headband to pull back his fringe. He placed the beakers in his hands down and took off his gloves while ruby eyes glanced at the clock on the wall. He was supposed to leave in a couple minutes.
Miguel’s eyebrows scrunched up, tsking under his breath and turning to look at the woman. “Can’t someone else be there? Peter can oversee it instead.” He pleaded, exasperated. She gave him a sympathetic look and sighed.
“Sorry, Miguel. He specifically asked for you.” Not wanting to be the bearer of bad news anymore, she slipped out the door and shut it behind her, leaving Miguel to groan and slump his shoulders. He stared up at the ceiling and closed his eyes, breathing in and out to calm his anger. It seemed like these days all he ever did was overtime at work. He fiddled with the golden band around his left ring finger, his other hand twirling it mindlessly for some comfort and also a silent apology to you.
His heart ached as he made his way to his desk, picking up his phone and dialing your number. He licked his lips while he brought the phone up to his ear. Miguel wasn’t prepared to hear your voice, happy and hopeful and only be met with disappointment.
“Miggy?” You answer happily. A small smile forms on Miguel’s face.
“H-hey, baby. You doing alright?” He asked, taking a seat on his swivel chair and leaning back to stare at the photo of you two on his desktop.
“Yeah! Yeah, I’m finishing up dinner. Are you on your way home?”
Miguel’s smile dropped a bit, realizing once more why he had called in the first place. “Um, about that, mi corazón. I have to–”
“You have to stay the night, don’t you?” You cut him off, disappointment evident in your voice. Miguel’s heart clenched at the sound.
“I…I do. Believe me, I don’t have a choice or I’d be there in a heartbeat.”
“It’s okay, really. I’m not mad or anything. This month has been hectic for both of us. I just… I just miss you is all.” You speak softly over the phone. He missed you more. He wanted to be there.
“Lo siento, bebé. You know how much I hate being away from you.” He apologized. “How about tomorrow, huh? I have off. We can go out and get a drink. Or maybe stay home? I know how much you love my cooking.” He offered, his heart beating faster at the thought of spending time with you again. That feeling sank when he heard you let out a quick puff of air in annoyance.
“I can’t. I’m working this weekend. Six days in a row,” You rolled your eyes just thinking about it. Your job always had a way of pushing your buttons. Miguel’s jaw clenched as he heard you. Miguel never really liked this recent event of work taking up his time from seeing you. He hated it even more when your job took you away from him. “God, I really thought we’d have tonight together at least.”
Miguel was quick to reassure you. “Hey, hey. Listen. We’ll have a day together. Eventually there’ll be a day for just us–all about us, I promise.”
When Miguel had arrived home, it could barely be even classified as night time with the way the sun had been peeking through the horizon. He dragged his body through the door, a cold home awaiting him. After kicking off his shoes, he dumped his coat and bag on the floor and made his way to the kitchen, eating the leftovers of the dinner you two were supposed to eat together before trudging back to bed. He saw you lying there on your side and he felt exhaustion drag him down.
Miguel slipped in under the covers beside you after striping himself of his clothes, leaving him in his underwear and slipped his arm around you. He pressed your body flushed against his, Miguel’s larger body enveloping yours protectively. His nose buried itself in your neck, his lips grazing your shoulder. His hand rubbed your stomach and then slid up to rub up and down your waist. Sneakily, he ran his hand under your shirt while his lips left small kisses on your neck and shoulder. You stirred awake as you felt the sudden touch of someone else.
Miguel felt you move so he pulled you tighter to him, keeping you caged in that position. “Mig…?” You called out sleepily. You felt something poke you from behind and groaned. Miguel continued to kiss your neck, his teeth coming out to gently nip at the skin making you shiver. He simply hummed his response.
“‘M home.” He murmured. He slowly turned you on your back, towering over you slightly with your leg between his. Miguel’s arm rested by your head while his attacks became more intimate. You leaned your head back, allowing him more access and his other hand on your hip squeezed you in appreciation. You bent your leg up on the bed slightly, your knee caressing his growing bulge in his boxers. Miguel let out a low groan, his hips grinding on you for some friction.
Your hands finally reached up to his hair, curling your fingers around his soft wavy brown locks. Miguel took this as an opportunity to capture your lips with his, muting the soft moans you were letting out. His own knee spread your legs apart, rubbing in between them to add to your pleasure. You felt a jolt of pleasure run down your spine, bucking your hips up instinctively. Miguel sighed against you, his hand on that had been gripping your hip, moved down to the hem of your pajama pants. He teasingly pulled it down, letting it snap back to your body and making you whine. You felt him grin through your kiss. Cheeky bastard.
Before he could ease his hand down your pants, your alarm had blared through the room, shocking the both of you and separating yourselves off each other. Miguel scowled while you clambered up to grab your phone. “The hell was that?” He grunted, displeased with being interrupted. You fumbled with turning it off, placing a hand on your chest to calm your fast beating heart.
“My alarm. I have a morning shift.” You moaned, tossing your phone back on the counter and standing up from the bed. Miguel blinked twice before getting up with you. He reached out his hand to grab yours in an attempt to stop you.
“Woah, woah, hey–what’s the rush?” He asked, turning you around and cupping your cheek. “We can at least have these couple minutes, can’t we?” His voice dropped an octave, leaning down to press a kiss on your cheek. Miguel tried to kiss downwards but you stopped him, albeit unwillingly.
“Amor, you know damn well how Nueva York’s traffic is in the morning. I’m not gonna be late and get my ass in trouble ‘cause you can’t keep it in your pants.” You slipped from his arms with a playful roll of your eyes and walked to the kitchen. Miguel scoffed, slightly offended, his eyes watching you walk away and looking down at your ass.
“Don’t act like you weren’t enjoying it.” He grumbled, looking down at the tent in his boxers wondering what to do with it now.
For the next week, it had been nothing but just pure torture. With the month making you and Miguel work away from each other, this week was stretching that limit. When Miguel worked in the morning, you’d work at night and vice versa. Each time without fail, you managed to slip in a few teasing touches. Waking up Miguel by sitting on his lap and peppering kisses on his cheeks with his hands grinding your hips down on his hardening cock. Miguel cupping your ass and giving it a squeeze when you came home from work while he was on his way out. Both of you were on the brink of breaking by this point. These small acts were supposed to tame the fire within you, not burn it brighter.
Eventually, it was finally your day off after a long weekend. A break from customer service and passing out as soon as you got home. Miguel had work today but he texted earlier that he’d get off on the hour he was supposed to this time around. You felt bad. He’d been working so hard and today had been no different. He took a shift earlier than usual so he could come home earlier without anyone being there to suddenly ask for him to stay. Lord knows he’s pushing those forty hours into overtime.
From the bedroom, you heard the door open, keys jingling as it was turned to unlock it. You got up from the bed and peered out the door, seeing Miguel kicking off his shoes and coat while tossing his bag carelessly on the living room chair. “Welcome home.” You greeted him. He dragged his feet closer to you with his head down, the top buttons on his white button up were popped open, exposing a glimpse of his collarbone. Miguel immediately wraps his arms around you, pulling you in for a comforting hug. You followed suit, hugging him back since you sensed he probably had a rough day. He hummed in response, settling for resting his chin on your head. You stayed like that for a while just holding one another until you felt his hand run under your shirt to feel your soft skin against his calloused hands. They continued up and up your spine until your shirt was lifting up with him. “Miguel.”
“What?” He grumbled. One hand slid down under your pants, getting a quick feel of your ass and pulling your pelvis to him. You gasped and tightened your hold around him, feeling the warmth of arousal ignite in your stomach. “I need to have you. I can’t wait any longer.” His soft touching became more possessive, roughly grabbing your ass and tugging on your shirt and pants.
“Miguel.” You repeated his name, this time in a whimper. Your own hands slipped down his collared shirt and lightly scratched your nails on his large back which made him shiver. He pulled back and you saw his eyes hazed with desire, pupils blown wide.
“Please…” He whispered, his lips brushing up against yours. Your hands fell to his buttoned shirt as you looked up at him. Your heart raced in your chest–the sheer want of having you all to himself finally after weeks was too good to pass up. You nodded and the pleading look on Miguel’s face dropped as he immediately bent down to kiss you. You let out a squeak of surprise between his lips right before giving into his needs and kissing him back.
He tugged your pants down to your ankles before lifting you out of the puddle of clothes and bringing you to the bed. Once you were laid on top, you watched Miguel fumble with his belt. His large hands quickly unhooked the metal making it chime and the soft zipping sound of the leather sliding out his belt loops. He practically ripped himself free from his clothes, not even unbuttoning his shirt and just lifted it up and off his torso. You saw his girthy length, standing tall and proud with a slight red color tinged at his tip while the rest of him was a slighter darker color than his skin. His tip was already oozing with precum. A sight you had always welcomed. It became clear to you that Miguel had been thinking about this for a while–maybe all day. Miguel crawled on top of you, helping you out of your shirt and underwear and kissing you again while his hands roamed your body.
“I’ve waited so long. Did you miss me like how I missed you, cariño?” He sighed between your lips. Your hands clutched his shoulders, one leg hooking around his waist.
“Always.” You whimpered back.
“On your knees. Now.” He growled. You felt your heart skip a beat, another heartbeat going straight to your core. Stumbling, you got off your back and got on your hands and knees like Miguel wanted. This position has always made you flustered. It was both embarrassing and exhilarating not seeing what Miguel could do to you, or even get to put your hands on him–solely relying on feeling.
Perfect timing, his hands met your ass, grabbing them and massaging them. “So perfect,” He murmured. His finger grazed your aching hole where you were the most sensitive, purposefully teasing the nerves on your body. He took pleasure in the way you writhed beneath him, succumbing to his hand. His thick cock rubbed up against you, smearing his leaking fluid on you for even better access. Then ever so slowly, gliding in his fat weeping tip inside and penetrating your walls.
You both moaned in unison. The feeling of being stuffed was like finally feeling that last puzzle piece snap in place. “Uff, fuck–I’ve missed you,” He groaned, his breath shaking as he leaned over your body. His one hand held the headboard in front of him while his other hand held the plushness of your hip tightly. Miguel’s body was shaking as he entered you slowly, stretching you out after a long time of not seeing each other like this. You whimpered, falling from your hands onto your elbows as you shook with him. “Ease up, cariño, así es.” He praised, leaning back to watch his cock disappear inside you. His pride swelled at how easily he seemed to slide in you even after so long, his mouth curling into a sly smirk.
“Mi–guel…” You choked out a moan. You whined and gripped the pillow underneath your head tightly in your fists. You had forgotten just how huge Miguel was, his covered bulge was nothing compared to the real thing. Panting, you heard your heartbeat in your ears, turning your head to rest your cheek on the pillow.
Miguel’s hand left the headboard by this point, choosing instead to rest on your back, running down the curve of your spine to press your head down. You whimpered and clenched around him which made him let out a string of curses under his breath. You felt him push himself to the hilt, his balls gently smacking against the curve of your ass. He groaned, his hand on your head gripped your hair to still himself from pounding you immediately. The two of you stood there, breathing heavily while you felt each other. You could feel him throbbing inside you, twitching ever so softly. Miguel bit his lip to hinder himself from cumming on the spot with your walls convulsing around him, weakly attempting to suck him in deeper.
You wiggled your hips, bucking them back against Miguel with a pathetic whine. “M-move…plea–” You got cut off when Miguel slipped out of you, and then he slammed back inside making you scream and shake. He then began a steady pace, enough for movement but not as quick as you wanted. Still, you mewled and clutched at the sheets while his cock was ravaging your guts. The hand on your hip wrapped around your lower stomach, his bicep flexing as he held your weight up to fuck your from behind.
“Too long. It’s been too fucking long since I’ve fucked this needy hole properly.” Miguel sighed, huffing with each thrust of his hips. Your eyes rolled back and your jaw slacked open. Skin slapping echoed in the room along with the wet smack of sweat between your bodies. It was a symphony of lust and desire. An aching instinct to be reunited like this. You pleaded for more–a little quicker, a little harder– and Miguel who loved you so much didn’t want to deny either of you this ecstasy. He then used both hands to grab onto your hips and started to drag your body back and forth on his dick, drilling himself in you like a toy. Miguel used up all his frustrations of not being able to see you all this time, his eyes drinking in your writhing form while he bucked into you abandonly.
“Yes! Yes! Fuck–Miguel…!” You squealed, involuntarily squeezing him which made me grunt and buck his hips faster. You babbled nonsense while your core bubbled up the feeling of an orgasm. You screwed your eyes shut as you allowed Miguel to hump against you. He leaned over you again, pressing kisses on your back, murmuring things you could barely hear over the sound of your own moans.
Suddenly, Miguel had pulled out again leaving you feeling empty and light headed while the feeling of an impending orgasm disappeared. He let go of you, your hips bouncing on the bed without the support of his strength holding you up. You opened up your eyes, glazed with pleasure and shakily tried to look behind you. Before you could, Miguel took your body and flipped you on your back. It all happened quickly before you could even register what was happening. He took your legs and tugged your body closer to him like a ragdoll. He spread them wide then pressed them up against your chest. You lolled your head up and you saw his fringe had fallen to his forehead, sticking to it with his sweat. His chest was heaving up and down, the glow of the moonlight highlighting the carvings of his muscles perfectly–it made your breath hitch.
Miguel then loomed over you, nuzzling his head into your neck again. You leaned your head to the side making him gain more access to you. His teeth bit your soft flesh, his lips suckling your skin to leave tiny bruises along the side. “Ah–” You squirmed and gasped when you felt Miguel slide back into you again. You quickly wrapped your arms around him, your hand running through his already messy hair. You pressed his head closer, your eyes opening up hazily to stare at the ceiling while Miguel starts his pace again.
“So tight, just f’me, hm? You have no idea how much–” He moaned in between speaking, the lust clouding his mind. “H-how much I needed you. I should’ve just brought you to work, bend you over my desk and fuck you however long I want,” He shuddered at the thought, his hips stuttering while you whimpered and arched your back off the bed. “Oh, you like that?” He grinned, his voice oozing with arrogance. You nodded, your eyes shutting closed again and desperately lifting your hips to match his thrusting.
“Next time, bebé, next time. I promise. You’re doing so, so, good. You feel so good.” He slurred softly, his hips snapped harder, his cock twitching and swelling inside you.
“Mig–Mig–I can’t,” You moaned, your screams getting louder the harder Miguel went. “Oh, god, Miguel!” Miguel kissed you, swallowing all your moans while he slipped his tongue in your mouth. Your eyes rolled back and your legs wrapped around his waist the moment he let go of your thighs. His hands traveled around your body, feeling the shape of your silhouette back into his memory. He grabbed at anything he could hold onto before curling around your ass for a small squeeze.
He pulled away from the kiss, breaths mingling for a moment until Miguel rested his forehead on your shoulder. Your hands raked down his back and you dug your nails into his giant back, leaving streaks of red in their wake from scratching him. He moaned from it–the pain only adding to his pleasure-fueled mind. Miguel peppered kisses on your shoulder, making his way down to your chest.
“Miguel, I’m so close–so, so close…” You whimpered.
“I know, ángel, me… me too. Solo enfocate en mí, hm? Just let me have you.” He pleaded, his rough moans turning into whimpering as he neared his end. You responded with a weak ‘uh-huh’ then clinging onto Miguel for support.
He murmured in a jumble of Spanish and English, his breath hot on your neck while you screamed and pleaded for more, how good it felt, anything to get both of you going. Miguel lifted your lower half up, relentlessly pounding into you while he cursed lowly, burying his head in your shoulder again. You felt the bubble in your abdomen about to snap.
“Miguel, I–!” You tried warning him but instead the waves of your orgasm flooded your body, cumming on Miguel and making a mess between your legs. You twitched around him, milking his cock for all it’s worth. Your legs shook until you went limp, fucked out of your mind. Miguel whined, speeding up to catch his own release.
“Fuck–!” He moaned, feeling his cock pump out his creamy fat load inside you, painting your walls white. Miguel’s entire body tensed up, stilling up against you while he slowly came down from the high. His strokes gradually slowed down, pumping the final ropes of cum, while he softened inside you, huffing and puffing with you. He shakily but carefully pulled out of you after a few moments. You whimpered when he completely left you with a soft wet shlick.
Miguel fell beside you, exhausted and spent. Still, he reached for you, bringing your shivering body in his arms. You curled yourself in his chest weakly, feeling his hand play with your hair. He kissed your forehead, basking in each other's afterglow. He brought the covers up over you two for some extra warmth.
“I’ll…get us cleaned up in the morning…” He huffed with a tired smile. You grunted in response, too numb to speak but satisfied nonetheless.
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can you tell this is my first smut? hahaaaa dontanswerthatillcry
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Demo: (Release Date: when i figure out twine, and then a week)
Life was never easy, but the day you first found your talent for less than legal practices, it certainly got easier. And when you finally got taken in by a nosy noble who could appreciate your talents, life finally seemed like it was looking up. But the highlife isn't all it was cracked out to be. You had to leave behind your best friend for this chance at the high life, and that's not even to mention all the enemies you've made while in service of the person who brought you in. Was it worth it? Can you keep your skeletons nice and tidy in your closet? Or will the past prove to have a few too many chips on its shoulder. ------------- This is a game about many things. Struggling to find meaning in your own life, trying to cling to those you care about as life drags you apart, and what can happen when you don't make peace before the storm. You take on the role of a peasant with a talent for the illegal, be that quick hands or a quicker wit. After years of dealing with the dirt of life to make a living, you get taken in (read, bought into service) of a noble who claims to have nothing but good intentions. They want to expose other nobility for their wrongdoings while climbing the ranks themselves. Will you be willing to remain loyal to their cause, or is money truly the only thing motivating you? That remains up to you to decide. Golden Hearts, Silver Tongues is rated 18+ for explicit language, mature themes, drug and alcohol use and abuse, violence, thoughts and mentions of suicide, self-harm, death and mental trauma. -------------
Customizable MC, choose your gender, pronouns, appearance, sexuality, romantic attraction, personality, history with some characters, potential disabilities, and most importantly, how you choose to go about your crimes. Are you a smooth talker, or someone who prefers actions over words?
Romance one of four available ROs? Will you fall back to your tumultuous Ex/Ex Best Friend? Or perhaps your new coworker or Boss? Or perhaps the most dangerous, the Ex-Noble hunting you down?
Struggle with Morality as you get pulled in different directions. What constitutes good anyways? And let's be honest, do you even care about being good at this point?
Resolve all of your lingering issue, before choosing how to move forwards. To remain trapped by the chains of your past, or to cast it all off and move forwards, unburdened. Ignorance is bliss, after all.
-------------
Romance Options:
The Rival (F, Cis or Trans selectable) - Your one and only friend in the early days of your life, and perhaps something more? You two grew up together and often were the only ones each other had. Perhaps she was your best friend, your lover, or someone you were so close to you could consider them family. Regardless, whatever she was, she isn't anymore. A fight caused a rift between you two, and now you two aren't on talking terms, much less anything else. So, when she shows up to one of your jobs, to steal the same items no less, is it any surprise things don't go well? Tropes - Exes to Lovers, Childhood Crush, Exfriends to Lovers, Rivals/Enemies to Lovers
The Boss (M, F, NB selectable) - The person who scooped you off the streets and showed you what the high life was like, and all you had to do was steal whatever they told you. Simple enough, right? You'd think. In practice, it seems like they keep upping the ante on your targets and at some point, you have to wonder whether or not this is all born out of good intentions. Though, with the looks they keep sending your way, perhaps more than just your skills have captivated them? No, that couldn't be true. After all, a noble and a peasant would cause far too much of an uproar for the already tumultuous figure that is your boss. Right? Gender Footnote - If NB, the Boss will be Agender. Tropes - Forbidden Love, Age Gap, Nobility x Peasant, Employer x Employee
The Coworker (M, Cis or Trans selectable) - A surprise your boss sprung on you just a few months ago, he is another noble who embraced your Boss' rhetoric and now wants to help reveal the darker side of the Kingdom. It's a shame he doesn't know what he's doing, but luckily (or unluckily), that is where you come in. Tasked to show him the ropes of thieving, you must figure out how to teach this eager learner what you've known all your life. He might not have quick hands, nor can he lie to save his life, but if there's one thing, he knows it's how to get up after a failure. And that surely has no correlation to all the gifts of his you've ignored over the years, right? Tropes - Coworkers to Lovers, Master x Apprentice, First Crush, Himbo, Potentially Grumpy x Sunshine
The Baron (M, F, NB selectable) - Hate is a strong word. Luckily, the Baron is a strong person. The first major noble your Boss ever sent you after, they by far had the hardest fall from grace out of anyone you know. Going from ruling an entire quarter of the Kingdom, to being nothing more than a rogue knight hunting you down for revenge. It's a shame they still have so much money at their disposal to hunt you with, and for all that it's worth, they are very good at finding you. Catching you, not so much. You always manage to just barely evade their capture....surely nothing to think about. Gender Footnote - If NB, the Baron will be Genderfluid. Tropes - Hate-Hate Relationship, Enemies to Lovers, Murder makes people hot, Villian Route, Potentially Redemption Arc
------------- Note Zone: Hey there! Thanks for reading all the way through this. This little place down here is where I plan on placing things like links in the future, and also any notes on progress or big topics and stuff that comes up. For now, all asks are welcomed, and once again thank you!
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livlaughloveluke · 1 year ago
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𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫- 𝐞.𝐥
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your usually bright and bubbly self snaps when you hear people talking bad about your boyfriend
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, one slap LMAO 😥, people are very mean in this :(
(loosely) based off this request: Just dorky shy ethan x sweet bubbly (maybe popular??) reader from @wonderstruck4llthew4yhome
𝐚/𝐧: two posts within the same day?!? also i only kinda followed the request but i think its similar! hope you guys like this one! 💘
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you had just finished drawing a nose and whiskers with bright eyeshadow, when your phone lit up. you picked your it up, to see that ethan had texted you. you smiled and unlocked your phone to open the message.
ethan 💗
hey im omw
ill be there in 10 
                                                                         you
                                                          okay!! ily! 💘
ethan 💗
love you too ❤️
you and ethan were walking together to some frat party for halloween. a couple of your friends begged you to go, however you knew ethan wasn’t the most comfortable at parties. 
you asked him one afternoon if he was up to it, making sure to emphasize that it was okay if he didn’t want to go, and that you would be happy to stay home and watch movies all night if thats what he wanted.
ethan wanted to be supportive, so he said he didn’t mind going, which was a complete lie. but seeing the smile on your face when he agreed was totally worth it. 
you and ethan decided to be characters from ratatouille. you were the remi, and he was chef linguini. you took a more sexy approach, with a grey corset and mini skirt, while he dressed a little more modest, with jeans and an apron. 
you carefully put on the headband with little mouse ears attached to it, and your costume was complete. shortly after, you heard knocking. you left your room and headed to let ethan in. 
you giggled at the sight of his costume, and went to plant a kiss on his lips. he kissed you back, his face now a shade of red. 
“you looks so cute!” you say, grinning widely. ethan compliments your outfit, and you head off the party.
you interlock hands with him on the short walk, your arms swinging with every step. you heard the house from down the street, the typical frat party music blaring loudly. 
you enter the rowdy estate, and immediately see some of your friends. you rush over to them, dragging ethan along with you. you let go of his hand to hug your friends, which left him standing their awkwardly. 
you decide to go find some drinks, and invite ethan to follow you. however, on your way to the kitchen, the crowd separates you and him. 
when you find the drinks, you realize ethan wasn’t with you anymore. you reach the keg and fill up a red solo cup, trying to be quick so you could find him again. you search for a soda in the alcohol filled kitchen, knowing ethan wasn’t a big drinker.
while opening all of the cabinets, looking for anything that wasn’t spiked, a man around your age walked up to you.
“what are you? a mouse?” he asks, trying to start a conversation.
“remi the rat actually, im matching with my boyfriend.” you say, trying to politely express your disinterest while still searching for a damn soda. 
“whatcha looking for?” he continues to pester you, despite your previous comment.
“a soda, for my boyfriend.” you make sure to accentuate the boyfriend part, hoping he would take the hint. 
he opens a cabinet and hands you a sprite. 
“uhm thanks i guess.” you reply, and turned to walk away. the strange man grabbed you by the wrist, turned you around, and pulled you closer to him.
“he doesn’t have to know.” he whispers maliciously. 
you yank your arm away from him, and take off the other way. you tried your best not to make a scene, hoping that you could leave that all behind you and have a good time. 
he seemed to leave you alone after that whole ordeal, and you searched around the house for ethan. you eventually spotted him in the corner alone, scrolling through his phone. 
a wave of guilt washed over you. you should have been able to tell that he was lying when he said he wanted to come. 
you rush over, and apologize for leaving him. 
“im so sorry eth, we can go home if you want.” 
ethan saw the look of disappointment in your eyes, and he couldn’t bear to make you leave.
“it’s fine, really. I don’t mind. can you stay with me, please?” ethan asked. 
“of course, baby.” you replied, handing him the soda. “i know you don’t like drinking, so i found a soda for you!! all i could find was sprite, although i know your favorite is coke.” you say.
ethan smiled at your caring personality. how did he pull you? you were drop dead gorgeous and extremely popular, and he was well, just ethan. 
a loser, friendless, and a nobody were all words people used to describe him. you however, made him feel the opposite.
with you, he was someone. he could be himself around you, and make the stupid dad jokes that he was scared to say around other people in fear of being judged. 
just then, someone shouted your name from across the room. you grabbed ethans hand and interlocked your fingers once again, making sure he stayed by your side this time.
you pulled him over to a group of people, all of which he was unfamiliar with. you greeted all of them with a smile, and started catching up with them.
“your costume is so cute!” said one of the girls you were having a conversation with. 
“thanks!! ethan helped pick out most of it!” you reply back, leaning your head on his shoulder and smiling.
what you seemed to miss was the nasty glares they gave ethan. 
“is he uhm.. your boyfriend?” another girl from the group asked. what you didn’t miss was the tone she used. it was like she was ridiculing him, and for what? 
“yeah. got a problem with that?” you ask in a sarcastic tone, although you weren’t in the mood for being funny. 
“its just.. he’s kinda… nevermind.” the girl says back, her voice lowering at the end.
“no, say it. he’s kinda what?” you respond back, not as cheerful this time. ethan stood next to you, looking down at the ground. 
“fine. he’s a fucking weirdo.” the girl blurted out, and you were livid. in the heat of the moment, you slapped her straight across the face, hoping to knock some sense into her. 
the group gasped, and ethan looked at you with wide eyes. 
“what the fuck?!?” she shouted, getting everyones attention.
“how the hell are you gonna make fun of my boyfriend when you’re to much of a slut to even keep one?!?!” you yell at her. all you heard was “ooohs” from the crowd at your statement. 
ethan dragged you outside before anyone could say anything else. 
“are you okay??” ethan asks, worried. you look at him confused. 
“i should be asking you if you’re okay! those bitches had no right to say anything about you. you’re the best boyfriend, and if they can’t see that, than it’s their loss.” you reply.
ethan just hugs you upon hearing your words. 
he wanted to spend forever in your arms. you were his savior, protecting him from every asshole out there. 
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lightlycareless · 5 months ago
Note
Naoya's reaction when y/n's thighs expand 3 times its size when she sits down. For my girlie's that have thick thighs 🙏🙏 plus me. Serious insecurity but damn wouldn't that be Naoya's 2nd favourite thing after tiddies. Definitely would give some criticism that y/n don't exercise enough and that's why her thighs are like that,but would br also smother his face between her thighs? Yes
Hello anon!!
Ngl when I first read this ask (the beginning) I was like HUH? But then I read the rest and was like ugh same. I kind of relate to what you feel, that plus chafing and what not 💀
ANYWAYS I hope you enjoy this debauched piece. :) ehehehe dunno what was going through my head but I liked it.
warnings: NSFW. THOUGH NOT DETAILED, THERE'S SMUT. MINORS DNI. Naoya and the Zen'in are perverts, some more explicit than others. Also misogynistic views, unwanted commentary about bodies.
Happy reading!
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You know what I was thinking?
Naoya being so obsessed with your body, that the moment he sees you he doesn’t even bother to make formal introductions or anything; nope.
He just needed to see you sit down one time, one time, unwittingly getting a very detailed look of how your thighs just become bigger underneath your skirt, alongside the adorably cute way you attempted to tug the edge down to avoid revealing too much (Naoya had seen more than enough at that point, of course he did.) and that was it for him to know you’d be the perfect wife.
So, fast forward a few weeks, after making the right arrangements, you’re effectively married to him, “happily” living in the Zen’in estate, where he can keep an eye on you, close to whenever he might need to make use of your wifely commitments—but most importantly, underneath constant scrutiny that not even your role as future Lady of the House could save you from.
The torments you’re subjected to here aren’t ones you haven’t heard before, in fact, you’ve heard enough of them to not care anymore…
But perhaps being married to Naoya, something that many cautioned would probably never happen due to your appearance, was enough to finally make them hurt.
His family just couldn’t… wrap their mind around the fact that from all women in the world, literally anyone else, he chose you: the epitome of laziness as they’d like to say. The sheer example of not being able to control one’s selfish desires in favor of temporary satisfaction.
In a world where thinner, athletic physiques were encouraged, you sure stood out like a sore thumb.
It wasn’t your fault, though. Some people were simply born that way, with different genetics and there was nothing wrong with that.
But to them, that was not enough of an excuse, if there ever was one; and once you heard for the last time how Naoya was simply tolerating you because, well, because of some unknown reason, you had enough.
You were tired of constantly hearing them belittling your worth, comparing you to whichever woman they brought along to hopefully convince Naoya into divorcing you—or at least sow his seeds on a more suitable candidate; a fact made worse when he seemingly didn’t put a resistance to their invitations, chipping away at your confidence.
And above all, you were exhausted of unwittingly highlighting the faults in your relationship, the clear signs that Naoya was never truly happy with you, such as those scarce moments of intimacy the two shared. Those that you didn’t think much of, outside of fear and pain, for he never struck you to be the kind, patient lover (and he wasn’t).
But now that these issues were highlighted… you could only feel sorrowful.
Naoya, while insatiable when it comes to lust, seemed to have only spent the night with you for political reasons. To fulfill his duty of securing the future of the Zen’in—not because he ever harbored desire for you.
Yet, why did you even expect otherwise? For he too demeaned you with cruel commentaries, and with the one thing you were mostly self-conscious about…
“You know, your thighs wouldn’t be that big if you actually worked out or something…”
“Don’t wear that. I don’t want you to show your legs—it’s already unbefitting a woman, but in your case… well, it’s only necessary.”
That was more than enough to finally push you to the edge and do the one thing many were constantly pestering you about: not to eat. Though in your defense, it’s not like you felt like doing so anyways, the voices and faces of those that hurt you were quick to put you back in your place if you even did as little as consider it, ruining your appetite.
And you managed to keep this way for a few days, at least until you began to grow sick, tired, unable to tend to your duties as you did before, which did not escape your staff’s attention, and subsequently, Naoya’s.
“What the fuck is wrong with you??” Naoya would exclaim first thing upon returning from a mission; tired. The last thing he wanted to do was deal with the complaints of your lacking commitment, the only goddamn thing you had to do around the estate. “To go ahead and cause problems to my family, taint my name—have you got no shame?!”
“I didn’t mean to…” you murmur, yourself tired as well, due for other reasons, made worse by Naoya’s reproach.
“Then do you mind explaining what the hell were you thinking? What were you planning to do? Get my attention??” He frowns. “Dramatic, but what else could I expect from a woman like you?”
“Please, Naoya… I don’t feel like arguing…”
“No, of course not. You don’t feel like doing anything, do you? Not even eating!” He remarked. “What? Trying to lose some weight, now? Is that what’s gotten into your mind?”
You remain silent, giving him enough of an answer. He laughs.
“So it is that!” He boasts. “I can’t believe it, Y/N! I didn’t think you’d be so stupid to actually do that!”
“Leave me alone…” you whisper, tears beginning to pool around your eyes.
“To what? Puke your guts out, now? Don’t be stupid!” Naoya continues to jest. “I knew women were desperate, but I didn’t think you’d break the mold!”
His words, perhaps out of your already brewing insecurities, or simply because you’ve grown tired of his mockery, wash you over with an unprecedented wave of anger, dropping your heart to the pit of your stomach as you sharply turn around, ready to take a stand for yourself once and for all.
“And why do you care so much, hm, Naoya?!” You cry. “Weren’t you also one of those that always bothered me about my weight? About how embarrassing I am to your name simply because of the way I look?!”
He flinches, startled by your reaction at first, but soon angered by it as well.
“I won’t tolerate your disrespect—” he frowns, yet you don’t let him continue.
“You even ask me to cover myself up!” you gasp. “You’re so—you’re so disgusted by how I look that you—you wouldn’t mind if I spent the rest of my life locked away so you won’t ever have to see—”
“Do you hear yourself?” Naoya seethes, taking your hand and pulling you to him with such strength that instantly startles you, making you squirm in reaction, trying to move away but he keeps you still, understanding you’ve officially made him furious. “Do you hear the stupidities you’re spewing?!”
“Leave—leave me alone.” You whimper, tears sliding down your cheeks. “You’re hurting me!”
“I ought to hurt you more for insulting me!”
“Insulting… you?” you repeat, confused. “How was this insulting to you?!”
“You think I’d let you walk around the estate like a whore? Let you display what’s mine?!”
“Naoya, you’re not—you’re not making any sense.” You respond, shame settling in your heart. “If you’re going to make fun of me—!”
“You’re fucking stupid, did you know that?” Is all that he says before pushing you against the wall, making you whimper when roughly hitting the wooden pillar behind, a noise that is quickly shut by his lips landing on yours, wasting no time for his tongue to battle yours, subduing you. “So fucking stupid…”
He’d murmur, you moan.
“Na—Naoya—” you breathe, torn apart by his desire and your confusion. Didn’t he… dislike you? “St—stop!”
“What is it that you wanted me to do? Stand aside as my family ogles at you?!”
“Don’t you mean—don’t you mean scrutinize?!” you gasp, flinching when his lips move from yours, down to your jaw, then neck… “Stop—stop mocking me!”
“I should feel offended by your stupidity, if anything.” He responds, pulling away from you to take a good look into your teary eyes—as if trying to assess if you really declared such atrocity, or if it was work of his own anguished mind. “Your blindness to acknowledge what I truly think of you.”
“They—they hate me.” You tremble, why would he want you to remember such an awful thing? “You hate me—”
“No, Y/N.” Naoya groans, pressing closer to you while taking your hand once more to move it down to his groin where his hardening cock was in full display for you to feel, destroying the perceptions you had of everything around you—around him. “This is what you make them feel— what you make me feel!”
“Nao—Naoya—” you tremble, trying to move away your hand from his growing length, intimidated that he somehow felt even bigger underneath your palm; giving the impression his desire for you right now was much stronger than any other instances. But… how? Or more likely, Why? “I don’t—I don’t get it—!”
“Do you really think I’d be blind to the way they stare at you? To their futile attempts of bringing you down, of changing you, just so they’d stop thinking what your skin feels like underneath their fingertips—or how sweet your cunt tastes like?” Naoya breathed, continuing to rub your hand against his cock, desperate to let you know how much he needs his release—how he wants to throw this senseless discussion away…
But not without declaring his upper hand, the one he always had with his family, of course. “But they can’t” He smirks. “The moment I saw you, I knew you’d be the perfect wife, the perfect mother for my children.”
The thought of harboring such desire from Naoya made your cunt tighten, the same way his cock twitches.
“They’re just jealous I got to you first.” He continues. “That I was able to see your worth just by your wide hips and ample bosom—you’re the epitome of femininity… but even better—
You’re all mine.”
“But you—but you said horrible things to me—” you cry, his lascivious words still not enough to remove the pain from those awful moments. “Why…?”
“Aw, my love.” Naoya chuckles, cupping your face with his hands and squeezing it so softly, making you pout, a face he always loved to incite from you, amongst others. “I just can’t help it; your reactions are so adorable; you simply make it too easy.”
His hands then travel down to the edges of your skirt, lifting your kimono just enough to reveal your smooth legs to him, the same ones he always had touch and kneed whenever you were close, the mere sight of them enough to make him further spiral into his desire—
If not anger when seeing the flimsy piece of cloth covering your cunt, fingers quick to grab the edge and rip it apart, letting out a quick gasp from your mouth.
“How many times have I told you to stop wearing these stupidities?!” He hisses. “You know damn well than to go against the words of your own husband!”
“But you—you hadn’t touched me.” You fret. “Since that night, we… you hadn’t—I didn’t think it was necessary.”
“You truly couldn’t be any dumber, could you? Just because I’ve been busy does that mean you can go on and disobey my words?” Naoya accuses with a jesting tone that serves to place the direction of his following actions. “My lovely wife is really that naive… luckily for you, I’m the one in charge of doing all the thinking, while you—you just have to stay like this, ready for me…
To take my cock like the good whore of a wife you are, with that lewd body of yours that is only mine. Exclaiming for me to give you a baby, make you a mother, make your hips wider, your breasts bigger, filled milk—”
And the way your body tightens against him, letting out a moan when his hands parted your legs, guiding his cock onto your dampened slit and gently pushed the head into you, let’s him know this desire has settled in the back of your mind for quite some time, but never revealed itself by the stupidities of his own family, his too undeniably.
But after these agonizing days away from you, forced so by his job, if not those insignificant whores his family brought in an attempt to push him away from you, failing to do so for he quickly discarded them as soon as they crossed his sight…
He’ll never let the opportunity to claim you pass again.
Naoya will do whatever necessary to drill that idea into that little, pathetic mind of yours, even if it means fucking you in the middle of the hallway, where all servants and relatives alike would be able to hear his message loud and clear.
The reality they could only dream of in their most desperate moments—but to him, it was only a matter of taking.
“Naoya—Naoya please—not here.” You whimper, your husband had effectively forced you onto the ground and made you take his cock, either from behind, hands and knees on the wooden floor as he teased and kneaded your ass and hips; he was an avid enjoyed of many positions, but this one had to be one of his favorite ones. To see your skin bounce whenever his hips slammed into you, savoring the way your lewd cunt swallowed him whole, down to the base, with no intentions of letting go, regardless of what you said, it was surprising he still had some restraint. “Please—they’re—they’re going to see!”
“Let them.” Naoya moans, the thought of being caught sends a shiver through his spine; and while it’s not something he necessarily advocated for, the constant, tiring need to be proving his authority over you is what forced him to do so. You might as well play along. “Let them hear how tight your cunt is around my cock! How only I can make you come undone like this—”
“N—No—I don’t—I don’t want…!” you whimper, but even when he changed positions, having you on top of him, giving him sight of the breasts he couldn’t wait to see grow when you’re inevitably pregnant, you still do not stop jumping on his cock, moving your hips up and down alongside his, clenching whenever hitting that sensitive spot that always had you seeing stars. “I don’t want to cum—!”
“Then maybe—Maybe you shouldn’t have this lewd body.” Naoya moans, truly believing that he would never be able to stop himself from using every inch of your body for his own pleasure—from fucking his cock between your soft thighs and boobs, admiring the way they completely cover his cock, drowning it in a combination of softness and his own seed, barely able to see where the tip of his head was…
To relieve that same sensation with his own face, asking you—no, demanding you to smother him with your thighs, a sensation that has him thinking if he were to die this way, cock hard, eased by your soft licks and moans, while deep in the sweet taste of your cunt, he wouldn’t mind it, not one bit.
In fact, he hopes that’s the way he goes.
But he’s in no rush to avoid enjoying the present, the warmth of your body besides him when the two eventually stop, careless to acknowledge if they ever gathered an audience, certainly so when Naoya’s mind was firmly set in getting you pregnant, as heard by his following words.
“I’ll see you tonight.” He declares. “It’s about time you give me a heir.”
And you do nothing but oblige, though you doubted all the cum nestled inside your cervix hadn’t done the job already.
“Naoya, you’re—oh!” You gasp when instead of waiting for you to stand up to properly greet him, he lowers down to your level, taking a seat before eventually resting his head over your lap, taking a deep sigh and resting for the first time after a long week of work. “Is… everything alright?”
In fact, you relished the idea. If it meant getting this side of Naoya’s desire, attention you didn’t think to be deserving of, or even capable of obtaining…. Then you were nothing but obedient.
“I’m tired.” He responds, adjusting himself into an even better position and sighing once more. “I don’t want to talk.”
So, you don’t, preferring instead to softly caress his head, moving some of his silky black threads away from his face and letting him relax, enough to dive into the beginnings of his slumber, but not before clearing his mind from one doubt.
“Our baby—”
“He’s fine.” You murmur, placing your hand over your stomach. It’s still very early during the pregnancy to know so, and yet, there was something about you that just made it so obvious that you were carrying a life inside you—
Perhaps it was the way you glowed, or how you became softer with him ever since it was first announced.
Though the latter was mostly the fact that you started to feel… wanted by your husband, a kind of desire that while far from perfect, was enough for you to change your perspective of this marriage, allowing you to open up to him, mostly so when Naoya now defended you from those unwanted comments from his family.
You’re carrying the future of the Zen’in, after all, some decorum must be maintained.
Yet something tells you his changed demeaner ran far deeper than what Naoya wanted to reveal. «All in due time» you suppose.
“I love you, and our baby too.” You say, instinctively taken by this calm moment of domesticity with your loving husband, not expecting a response considering his somewhat cold nature—only to be proven wrong when he turns around to see you, silently placing his gaze on yours in such way that initially makes you think you might’ve ruined this moment, just for him to pull you closer to him, taking your lips in a soft, quick kiss before returning to your lap, closing his eyes and sleeping.
He may not have said it, but the sentiment was the same, and that was enough for you to be happy.
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Naoya is still a jerk, but I like to think he eventually got to genuinely care about you. Also, he got real lucky that one time he thought with his dick, imagine if you were a piece of shit too? NAH He'd lose it. He got real lucky that you were nice, I tell you...
Also, I'm still with the pregnancy stuff :) sorrynotsorry.
OH! and also!! It's safe to say that the things Naoya said are NOT a reflection of what I think!! Everybody is beautiful and deserving of love, no matter what body type ❤️
Now, thank you so much for sending this niche ask... I gotta say, I have been thinking about it since I do relate to it............... but I try to keep my work pretty open-ended so anyone can relate :) Still, if there's something you'd like me to write a bit more detailed, just let me know! I'll be sure to try my best tho, some I might reject if I don't feel like I know much about the matter....
Anyways, thank you so much for this ask ❤️ take care, and hope to see you soon ❤️
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youraverageaemondsimp · 1 year ago
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Incomprehensible Horror. // Demon!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader
Halloween Special 🎃
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MDNI, DD:DNE(?): reader discretion is advised.
block the tag #MAE:DARK!CONTENT to prevent seeing dark content from me.
WARNINGS: dubcon, cunnilingus, demon fucking(?), p in v sex, past life, mentions of abuse, plotting, murder, multiple orgasms, oral (f. receiving), size kink, cum eating, slight breeding kink, spooky vibes(?), manhandling, so much canon divergence, GoT S8 spoilers(?) kinda idk, the plot is shifted and extremely altered to fit this story. + not proofread
WC: 3.8k
A/N: the original draft got deleted and i had to rewrite it because I wanted to publish this before Halloween is over, so this is slightly rushed :(
There was something extremely eerie about the red keep that always set you on the edge whenever you would hear stories about it.
The burnt down remnants of it untouched as the city around it prospered, only developing more as the time passed on, with skyscrapers, branded shops, turning into what you would call a 'modern city'.
King's Landing was not the way it was anymore, the destruction of it provided a reason to rebuild the city entirely, it was a lengthy process but definitely worth it.
A seemingly innocent city until you look past the sky scrapers, shops, etc, revealing a sinister and a tragic history of the land, a story that involves a royal family fighting and going mad for the throne, only to succumb to their madness and go extinct.
There have been many attempts in the past to rebuild it, but all in vain as there have been cases of construction accidents, fatal injuries, suicides, making it impossible to rebuild it, so they turned it into a tourist attraction.
What a way to make money.
Yet they close it off the moment the sun begins to set.
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You had visited it a lot, having been living in King's Landing for a while, it was basically harmless, making you wonder why it was rumoured to be haunted, when it's just a disfigured building with half of its structure on the ground.
It was a casual weekday for you, returning to your apartment from work after the sun had long set, you took the elevator up the building, the music abruptly coming to a stop way before you reached your floor, leaving you confused, but you soon broke out of your confusion when you heard the familiar 'ding' indicating that you reached your floor, and as soon as you left the elevator the automatic doors slammed quickly, causing a loud sound, startling you.
It seemed as if the elevator was having technical difficulties.
You make a mental note to take the elevator less often until it is fixed.
You quickly scurry to the side of your apartment, pulling the keys out and pushing it into the lockhole, turning it, which opens the door, but you stumble over something and lose your balance, holding the wall for support to not fall until you finally push yourself back onto your feet and look down.
It was a package.
But you had not ordered anything.
Weirdly enough, there was no address.
You should've left it there.
But you took it inside.
Your curiosity got the best of you, and the package not having any address only further fuelled your justification for opening it.
It was a book.
An occult type of book to be exact.
You opened it and skimmed through the pages, it seemed more like a personal diary than an instruction based book for spells.
And it was convincing enough at first until you read a certain page.
“Go to the ruins of the red keep at 3AM, and chant this, 'Oh rōvēgrie zaldrīzes dārilaros, māzigon naejot se iōragon gō nyke, ivestragī aōha kasta se melkasta laesi jurnegon rȳ nyke, iksan isse jorrāelagon hen aōha dohaeragon, kesan krenyikhé tepagon mirros ao jaelagon' for a miracle!” (Oh great dragon prince, come forward and stand before me, let your blue and purple eyes look at me, I am in need of your help, I will gladly give anything you wish.)
This made you chuckle, what kind of prank was this? This was so badly written to the point of making any paranoia you felt about this book dissipate immediately.
I mean, chanting spells? to summon a dead prince? it made you laugh, and of course the location was the red keep, a place rumoured to be haunted. It couldn't not be more obvious than that, because whatever this was, was clearly a joke.
So you pushed the book aside and settled for bed.
Sleep did not come to you.
Which you found odd.
You would usually be extremely tired, and the moment you lay on the bed, you would be pulled under the depth of slumber.
Yet now you squirmed, not being able to find any sleep.
You don't know how many hours passed, making you frustrated.
And your mind wandered off to what you had read earlier.
You glanced at the time, it read 2AM.
You purse your lips in thought, not knowing what to do.
You got up from your bed.
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You knew this was a bad idea, sneaking into the red keep, with the stupid book in your hand as you navigated through the building, and then you ended up in a room with a bunch of paintings of the past targaryens.
You set the book down and kneeled, looking at the verse you were supposed to chant out loud, you bought out your phone and looked at the time, it read 2:59AM.
One more minute.
You did not know why you were doing this, normally, you were a rational person, you usually don't let your curiosity win in situations like this, having control over it, but in this case, it seems you had lost all your control, and it seemed as your mind is being controlled to do whatever was written on that page.
Besides, it's not like anything would happen.
It seemed fake after all.
Trying doesn't hurt.
You never really believed in ghosts or demons yourself, so what were you scared of?
And so as soon as the time read 3AM, you chanted the saying out loud.
You waited.
And waited.
You looked at the time, 3:10AM.
Nothing happened.
You let out a scoff, what did you expect? A demon to appear?
You collected the book and left the scene, annoyed that nothing happened, but you were also glad nothing happened at the same time.
The air felt colder than before, and lights seemed to flicker constantly whenever you crossed a street light, everything seemed out of place and odd, the buildings looked distorted.
Was your paranoid finally getting to you?
You felt a chill run up your spine.
It felt as if someone whispered in your ear, causing you to jump and look back, only to find nothing.
This was setting you on edge, you quickly walked faster back to your apartment, you frowned when you saw the "out of order" sign on the elevator, knowing that it was not there when you used it to come down prior to your visit to the red keep.
You sighed heavily and took the stairs, climbing to the floor you lived in, but for an odd reason, the stairs seemed to go on for longer, the more you climbed, the more they went on, you did not know if you were seeing things for feeling that way simply cause you were spooked, but you know for a fact that climbing 7 floors should not take more than 10 minutes at a slow pace, and yet here you were still climbing at a fast pace yet the stairs seemed to be never ending, you did not know if you were hallucinating the scribbled out floor numbers assigned to the respective floors or if they were originally like that before.
You looked down the stairwell, and it only seemed as if you climbed 3 floors, which left you baffled. You ran up as fast as you could, and to your relief you saw the '7th floor' on the board, indicating you were on your floor. You sighed in relief, making your way to your apartment, you did your best to ignore the constant flicker of lights, and what seemed like a dark figure standing from the corner of your eyes, the keys fumbled in your hands, it took you a few tries to unlock the door and when you did, you saw the figure move towards you, so you quickly rushed inside and slammed the door shut behind you.
You leaned against the door breathing heavily, closing your eyes and taking deep breaths, to try and calm your mind. You cannot tell if this was just your mind playing tricks because you're so worked up, or something odd is actually happening, but you know for the fact that whatever you were seeing was real.
Your apartment suddenly starts smelling putrid, making you scrunch up your nose. The smell was unbearable, as if thousands of dead rats were in your apartment, decaying away. It made you want to throw up, the foul scent leaving you light headed as you went towards your bedroom, to access the attached bathroom.
Luckily for you, the bedroom smelled like it usually would instead of dead rats, so you took a deep breath of the normal air, the nausea beginning to slowly fade away.
“For what have you summoned me, mortal?” a deep voice says, making you freeze in your spot, you turn around and your eyes widen in horror, as you take in the sight in front of you.
The face of a goat with horns, and scales that belonged to a dragon running down its upper body, stopping at it's elbows, black fluid dripping from its body, covering it's most intimate area, and its legs covered in scales as well, your voice was stuck in your throat, not being able to scream as the sheer panic made it unable to.
It looks confused at your horror filled face before looking down to its body and sighing annoyedly, and then its body distorts, the sound of bones cracking, flesh turning and squeezing, you watch the entire thing happen, the way its body is changing shape until it stops, making your breath hitch in your throat.
It took the form of a human man, face now mimicking a normal human, yet it was also disfigured, with a scar running up his cheek to his eyebrow, and an eye patch on his left eye, before he took it off, revealing the sapphire placed in the eye socket. His gaze was piercing, staring daggers at you, as he grew visibly frustrated at your silence.
“Can't you speak?” his voice booms across the room, causing you to snap out of your fear, and finally answer him, “I-it was an accident, I didn't mean to.” you answer and that displeases him, face now carrying the expression of a scowl.
“You followed as the book had instructed, did you not?” he asks and you nod, “Then it is no accident.”
“I did not think it would actually work, it was my mistake, please its an accident-” your voice cracks, still trying to process what was happening, trying to form words that made sense. He pushed you against the wall, his hand wrapped around your throat, long sharp nails digging into the skin of your neck, restricting the passage of air as you struggled in his grip, “On accident you say? Then you must pay the price for wasting my time.” he said darkly, and released you, causing you to fall to the ground, coughing and taking lungfuls of air.
“Should I kill you and then take your soul? Or take your soul directly and watch as the light fades from your eyes, screaming and writhing in agony in my hold.” he ponders genuinely and you gulp in fear, tears welling up in your eyes, knowing that something stupid is now costing you your life. “Please forgive me- I did not mean for any of this to happen.” you beg, voice hoarse.
“Forgive you? You should not have stifled me to begin with, now you must pay the price for your own stupidity, what shall I do hmm? My time is incredibly precious after all.” he looks down at you and you quiver in fear.
He grabs your hair and pulls you to your feet, making you stand, his hot breath fans against your face as you look up at him, and then he scans your face, taking in your features and then his eye widens as if he realised something.
And then he smiles, the grip in your hair becoming even tighter, causing you to wince in pain, “Please- let go of me- I'm sorry.” you grip his hand, trying to make him let go of the hold he has on you, “Aemond- please.” and that's when he releases you.
“Ah, so you do remember me.” he says, amused and you look at him confused, “Huh? What do you mean?” you ask him genuinely and that's when you realised you called him Aemond, it came out so naturally to the point you did not notice it.
But you still had no idea what just occurred.
Who's Aemond?
He grabs your cheeks, “I had waited so many years.”
What is he talking about?
“I won't lose you this time.” he says and before you can respond, he presses his lips against yours, one hand wrapped around your waist as the other holds the back of your head, pressing your face against him.
Your head felt hazy all of a sudden.
Why does all of this feel familiar?
You don't protest when he pushes you on the bed, climbing on top of you, you just stare at him, blinking in confusion as he tears away at your clothing, “Oh how the fashion has changed overtime, I remember last time you were wearing a black gown, mourning the death of your husband.” he whispers in your year and you feel ringing in your ear.
“What an amazing actress you were, mourning him in such a convincing way, only to get fucked by me after the funeral.” his hands trail down your body, “Such good memories, to have you underneath me, moaning my name constantly like a prayer, you were the first woman I ever desired after my death, the one who broke my curse, letting me become a true demon, it was on accident too back then.” he chuckles, he grips your pants, tearing the fabric as if it were paper.
“Until they found out of course, that you conspired with a demon, and planned the murder of your own husband.” his voice turns dark, and the ringing in your ear gets louder, your mind spins. “I remember not being able to do anything as they burned you alive at the sept, sigils placed around you to prevent me from interfering, to watch your flesh on fire as you screamed in agony, screamed my name in pain and it was then I swore that I would destroy that city.” he growled darkly.
“And so I did, possessing my own descendant and burning the city down, not too long after your passing.” he recalls with a satisfied smirk on his face, “Do you still remember my full name?” he looks at you and the ringing suddenly stops, and everything seemed to be spinning around you, his face becomes blurry and your head begins to hurt, eyes beginning to water as you feel that you were set on fire, letting out a loud scream at the sheer amount of pain coursing through your body as memories you didn't recognize flowed through your mind, you writhing below him in pain, letting out loud cries, “Shh..” he caresses your head and suddenly the pain stops, making you breath heavily, making you close your eyes.
“Aemond Targaryen.” you hear your own voice speak and you open your eyes to look at him, he has a smirk on his face, a small smile grazes your face as well, lifting your hand up to caress his cheek, pulling his face towards you to kiss you, lips engulfing his, you breathe in his scent, and he suddenly doesn't smell putrid anymore, but instead of cloves and ash.
“Fucking cunts, all of them, they remained silent all throughout the time i was abused by him, but the moment I get my own revenge, they burnt me alive.” you say after pulling away from the kiss, gritting your teeth.
You felt so confused with yourself.
Both memories of your past life and current life clashing against each other, fighting for dominance, to decide who you were.
“It's over my love, I burnt them all down.” he kisses down your neck, to your breasts, and down to your cunt, pressing kisses to your inner thighs. You smile at him, spreading your legs wide for him to settle freely and latch his lips onto your clit, making you throw your head back when you feel his tongue move skillfully against the bundle of nerves, you grip his hair, shoving his face further into your cunt.
“Fuck- you taste the same as I remember, I missed this cunt so much, seven hells.” he curses, licking away at your cunt, you moan as his sharp teeth grazes your clit. “Watch your teeth-” you whimper, feeling his fingers prod at your entrance, before gently pushing them in. He pulls away from your cunt and watches his own fingers be engulfed by your cunt as he thrusts them in and out, he groans at the sight, wishing it was his cock plunging inside you. “Goodness gracious, you're so fucking divine.” he murmers before latching on your cunt again, tongue swirling against your bud.
You feel the band in your stomach, “Aemond, I'm cumming- I'm- fuck-!” you reach your peaking on his hands, back arched as the orgasm ripples through your body. You breath heavily and watch aemond climb up, his knees on the mattress of your bed as he bends your legs, your knees pressing to your chest.
You watch as he grabs his cock, your eyes widening at the sheer size of it before flitting over to his own, he smirks, “Aemond it won't fit-” you whine but he shushes you, “You took it with no problem before, tis the same.” he lines in up against your entrance, “But still-”
“Remember when we did it the first time, you said it wouldn't fit? Only to have you crying and cumming all over my cock like a common whore.” he says and you sigh, remembering the memory.
He slowly pushes his cock inside you, taking his own time, throwing his head back in pleasure, “Seven hells, you feel so fucking good, the gods be damned.” he grunts, feeling pleasure at the way your cunt is wrapped around him so perfectly. You grip the sheets below you for support, clenching your eyes shut as you try to adjust to him.
He grabs a hold of your legs, throwing them over his shoulder before he grabs your hips and starts thrusting in and out of you, making your body jolt up and down the bed at the force. Your moans of his name soon fill the room, and he moans too, closing his eye in pleasure as he continuously shoves his cock in and out of you.
He opens his eye to look down, only to smirk when he sees the outline of his cock in your lower abdomen whenever he thrusts fully inside, he presses a hand against it and you squirm, the pleasure amplifying, making your toes curl.
He leans down, causing your legs to fall off his shoulder and be pushed up against your chest one more, his long black tongue enters inside your mouth, extending far back into your throat making you gag before he pulls it back, finally letting both your lips meet. Your hands shoot up to his hair pushing him against you, he hums in satisfaction. His scales are back on his body, along with his horns, partly turning into his demonic form, you feel him grow in size, both height and mass, and eventually down there, which rips an orgasm from you, wetness flowing down your hole and dirtying the sheets and you choke on your own spit at the sudden peak.
He pulls out, and you look at him in confusion, knowing he didn't peak yet, but soon the confusion is replaced with anticipation as he flips you around onto your stomach, your body knows what to do immediately and you support yourself on your arms and knees. Aemond doesn't waste another moment before pushing himself inside you, letting out a loud moan when he feels you clench around him.
His pace is brutal and fast, only seeming to care about his own pleasure, he grabs you by your hair and tugs on it, causing you to curve your head backward but not lean back, he's fucking you like an animal in heat, the size difference making it easy to manhandle you as he wishes.
He soon feels his peak arriving after pounding into you like a madman, and he spills himself deep inside you, cumming so much to the point it makes you feel bloated and so full, you whine when you feel his pull out. He watches as his seed leaks out of you, gathering it with his index finger and tasting it, humming at it.
“I wish my seed takes.” he mutters.
He turns you on your back again, and holds your legs wide and spread apart, and spits on your cunt, before leaning down, holding your thighs apart and once again presses his warm mouth against your cunt, only this time he shoves his long tongue down your hole, you can feel him licking around there, eating up his own spend, and that's when he flicks his tongue upwards inside you, grazing your gspot and your thighs shut around his head, trying to prevent him from making you cum again, too overstimulated and tired.
“Aemond- another time, please- I'm so tired.” you whine, your eyes closing, and he listens to you, pulling away, withdrawing his tongue from inside of you. He climbs next to you in bed, shifting into his full human form again and pulling you close.
“I won't let anyone take you away from me now.” he murmurs in your ear and you nod, turning and snuggling close to him.
There were so many questions left unanswered.
Each and everything was an odd occurrence.
From the encounter of the package to you summoning a demon, who turned out to be the one you loved & fucked in your past life, even conspiring with him to kill your abusive husband, and to fucking him again, and now laying safely wrapped in his arms.
Who was the one that sent you the package then?
Just then you remember an odd event.
You remembered the text and pictures of the book with a bunch of spells and summoning rituals, you hadn't noticed it then but it was the same handwriting as yours.
It was your diary.
And you remember losing it the day right before you were burnt to death.
And you remember writing the words you had heard in your dream, confused back then as what "3AM" meant.
You did not want to dwell on this anymore.
Because you realised that it would drive into madness.
And so, you drifted off into slumber in the arms of your beloved.
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cipheramnesia · 9 months ago
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This is the process my brain goes through every time I see anything about Netflix Avatar The Last Airbender.
My first reaction is always: Why? The original, although not without flaws, doesn't leave a lot of room to improve. A good remake or adaptation usually involves an updated context or change in perspective that adds to the original work and gives it new meaning. It's a risky undertaking because it usually involves wanting to take on something established as iconic and make it your own. But Netflix is a corporation and seems very risk averse for the most part. Its only investment is in the name recognition of AtLA. It's hard to visualize Netflix deliberately taking a big risk on an expensive show.
My second reaction is: How? The original series is about 1400 minutes over 61 episodes, and it still had to rush the ending. We're looking at 8 episodes of roughly 45-60 minutes per episode for season 1, which would require Netflix to let it run more than 3 seasons, if the series has similar pacing. Historically however Netflix shows have glacial pacing, and rarely make three seasons. Not really sure how they plan to tell the story if the series is anything like the average Netflix series, meaning it either needs to undercut the story or let the series breathe for at least five seasons. But nothing Netflix has done makes me want to watch anything they make as an ongoing series? Why bother, they cancel everything I enjoy. So I wonder how. What's the hook to say "this will be able to provide something new and interesting compared to the original, and will be allowed to tell the complete story."
Which leads me to think, but you can't judge if something is good without seeing it. Except none of this is about whether it's good, I just find myself wondering what are the odds it's worth the effort? They're low, and it has nothing to do with whether or not it's even any good on its own merits.
Following this, I ask myself, what would a good version of this be. Imagine you are making a live action series with eight hour long episodes per season based on a children's cartoon with 20 thirty minute episodes per season. You are trying to encompass a story which was presented over three seasons as a cartoon, and you do not know if you will have more than those eight episodes. It's made for Netflix which, in terms of a company which will protect the hard earned fruits of your artistic labor, is the fox guarding the henhouse. What do you do?
If you are looking to make something good, that respects your audience investment and your own work, you make radical changes to the story. You change the pacing, the character arcs, the plot arcs. You make sure you deliver a complete story in those episodes with as much respect for the original work and as many new ideas as you can.
Except, at that point, what is even the point of a remake. The only way to work with it is either to trust Netflix allowing you to finish the story (which you'd need to be incredibly naive to do), or tell a story so different it may as well be wholly original. And that's where I always end up. Like, it'll probably be fine, but what's the point of it all? Another vanishing digital property to get canceled because of some undefinable failure to return on investment.
I think about it a lot because the two ends of the spectrum seem to be "dunk on every new piece of information" or "wait and see" but the only conclusion I can ever reach is "why even care?" That's been the lesson to take home from digital streaming in general when it comes to series, but Netflix in particular, and honestly for movie series too. If it can't be self contained, the companies who produce and release these kinds of series just cannot be trusted with it, and there are too many good original stories being put out to care anymore about big budget promises that one day they will definitely for sure deliver a finished story, this time for real.
I care enough to think about why I don't feel anything at all about Netflix Avatar. It'll be fine, whatever else. Just fine.
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