#like most businesses are its nothing new
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the only people with money around here to buy a freaking cybertruck are farmers which is embarrassing bc that is certainly not a farmer truck. the big spotless lifted white brand new Fords were bad enough. for my non Central California friends, you have to understand that the farmers around here are rich business men who exploit undocumented people to do all their work. they have massive (Republican) political power too. we hate farmers here LOL there's a difference between Farmers and farm workers
#i see pro-farmer posts on here about how its like the last true noble profession#and its like.....maybe in other states#its very much industrialized and full of exploitation here in California#like most businesses are its nothing new#but its extra nefarious bc they whine and cry about how theyre growing our food#meanwhile theyre really growing water intensive almonds#to sell overseas#while we're in a drought#I HATE FARMERS!!!!!!!#txt
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I have not posted any of my analysis to reddit yet and I think I might just post it and ghost it. I've already spent too much time looking at other people's threads on there to feel any way good about interacting with folks.
I already went in an added the "I know you're going to bring this up let me save you the time" section which is exclusively touching on the frequent topics of:
"well what about the fingerprint nostrum and finger mimics? He is clearly just a crackpot"
And
"it's definitely some weird elaborate sacrifice to Metyr thing"
#if he's drinking hallucinogenic tea in his free time genuinely good for him. whatever man. i just do not think either of those items are-#at all relevant to the quest especially the nostrum because it is a placebo medicine and aint nothing fake about this shit#also i think theres a distinction between becoming fingers vs wanting to replace metyr? idk like as ive said i think he thinks he's-#better than the fingerweavers and rightfully so#like please come to a new conclusion other than âman this guy is on drugsâ#also girl... metyr doesnt need sacrifices. like? where is that textually or in set design? metyr wants us to leave her the fuck alone#she's minding her own business EVERY TIME WE SPAWN INTO HER ZONE#like why are people so desperate for everything to have a dark undercurrent? not everything has to be some dark disney ass shit#âactually finding nemo is a hallucination & Marlin is insane & nemo is dead that movie is actually super fucked up & dory is a grim reaperâ#like im sorry but this is how this extra shit all feels to me#like it is already fucked up and miserable?#is he 100% a good person? like thats genuinely person to person. theres personal gain from the quest#and hes definitely very good at getting what he wants#manipulate manifest mother#tail fingers on the vision board#devon yaps#and yap I did#like I don't want to be a bitch because yeah we should genuinely celebrate other peoples theories and hcs in these games#but i dont think âlol this guy is just on drugsâ is one of those things#because i like spooky theories if theyre backed up.#but to say âits this weirdly horrible thing and youre all wrongâ especially in his context is not great to me#Sorry. like may my own arrogance strike me down like the scholar i think i am đ€ farewell#because again its coming down to meeting this narrative without preconceived bias and most of the reddit stuff feels like-#âhe is fucked up. won't say why. but i bet you know why i actually think this đ€«đ€«đ€«â like just you cant wrap your brain around guy mom#i do really want to reiterate this is about reddit shit. like i am so into people who love his character but interpret him more sinisterđđ#truly eating that shit up
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broke: Will hates being a healer because it makes him feel weak when compared to the fighters
woke: Will loves being a healer because his entire sense of self-worth depends on helping other people
bespoke: Will loves being a healer because it allows him to skip camp activities and just be a little shit in general.
Does he have to monitor Nyssa in the infirmary for two hours because of a minor burn? Not necessarily. But is it preferable to cleaning out the stables?? Absolutely.
Is there technically a less painful way to set a broken bone? His father is literally the deity of healing, so of course. Does the owner of said broken bone (who has been particularly annoying this week) know that?? Well, why would they need to when good old Will is here to heal all wounds?
Was Will an accomplice in the prank against the Ares cabin? Yeah. Is Clarisse aware of that? Probably. Will she do anything about it? To the head medic?? Will hopes for her sake that the answer is no (see point 2)
(also the self-worth things but like. whatever)
#will solace#he already skipped before being head medic btw this is not a new development he's been doing it since he arrived at camp#(chiron has just given up tbh he knows most excuses are bs but hes got an entire fucking camp of teens so like whatever)#will (doing nothing): im so bored :(#kayla: well thats convenient since its the apollo cabins turn to train in the arena#will (still doing literally absolutely nothing): oh nooo cant you see how busy i am what a tragedy#will: please offer my most sincerest condolences while you get hit by a bunch of twelve year olds with sticks#will: also. hypothetically. if you were bored in an empty infirmary with nothing to do-
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The next month will literally be the best shit ever if everything goes right because
my school will officially be over (though the results of the finals will be out in july, but at least the finals themselves will be over soon)
my dad is getting me a new laptop that may have like a touch screen so I could draw more comfortably and also finally play Sims and Subnautica and Road 96 with more than 1fps
we're moving out of my grandma's!!!!! my mom found a place that's literally in the next building from here so we'll still be close to her and I generally love the area we currently live in so it'd be perfect and the owner wants to rent it out on the 1st
and with that I'll maybe be able to!!!!! Have a kittye!!!!!!!! my mom's friend's cat had babies recently and my mom already agreed long ago that I could get a pet once we move out and unless something goes terribly bad with like our new place or money or smth well adopt one of the kibbies I've never had a pet bigger than a rabbit in my life and I need to have a cat as soon as possible they're god's most beautiful creatures
also I'll have to redo my commission sheet since I'll be Free and also No Longer in School so I'll Need Money and my mom's gonna help me find some small simple jobs and if that goes well I'll be able to get myself some new piercings (I'm thinking snake bites)
I don't remember if there's anything else happening but like I can't wait everything good happens this June I wish I could like timeskip to June 1st right now
#exploding and screaming#honestly im the most excited about the new laptop and a KITTY#im already thinking of names#my mom said its gonna be mostly my pet#since shes always busy with work so she wouldn't have time to care for it#and my brother is 1. a little irresponsible shit and 2. he already has two cats at his grandparents' place#like we dont have the same dad and his dad's parents take care of his cats when hes not there#so!!! ill be the one to name the kibbye#unless it'll have a name already but. its gonna be a babye kitty so i dont think itll matter that much if I'd change it?#currently im considering: lasagna or salem or cyberbibo or a name thats a reference to some media i like#i dont have any specific references in mind rn#also cyberbibo means literally nothing bibo is just a silly little sound me and my sister make at each other#and as many other vocal stims it became an inside joke between us#cyberbibo in biboland is one of those silly inside jokes. it means nothing there is no lorw#but its fun to say out loud#lasagna would be perfect for an orange cat but the babies that my mom's coworker got are like white-tabby#and salem is just cute#honestly ill probably go with it unless i can think of something better#cause like#it's both a cool silly name and a name thats normal enough for my mom to agree on it#and in some years when i move out and maybe have a second cat i could name it something silly because no one will have the power to stop me#im just. so excited#ive always wanted a cat and it felt like its not even possible like its always just gonna be a dream#at least until im much older and able to move out and afford a pet#but. i could have a cat in a month or two. after we move out and get used to the new house and get everything we need for a cat#and once we get it i will be sharing pictures of it with everyone always at all times. people need to see my child my wee little baby#bee buzz
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idk if people on tumblr know about this but a cybersecurity software called crowdstrike just did what is probably the single biggest fuck up in any sector in the past 10 years. it's monumentally bad. literally the most horror-inducing nightmare scenario for a tech company.
some info, crowdstrike is essentially an antivirus software for enterprises. which means normal laypeople cant really get it, they're for businesses and organisations and important stuff.
so, on a friday evening (it of course wasnt friday everywhere but it was friday evening in oceania which is where it first started causing damage due to europe and na being asleep), crowdstrike pushed out an update to their windows users that caused a bug.
before i get into what the bug is, know that friday evening is the worst possible time to do this because people are going home. the weekend is starting. offices dont have people in them. this is just one of many perfectly placed failures in the rube goldburg machine of crowdstrike. there's a reason friday is called 'dont push to live friday' or more to the point 'dont fuck it up friday'
so, at 3pm at friday, an update comes rolling into crowdstrike users which is automatically implemented. this update immediately causes the computer to blue screen of death. very very bad. but it's not simply a 'you need to restart' crash, because the computer then gets stuck into a boot loop.
this is the worst possible thing because, in a boot loop state, a computer is never really able to get to a point where it can do anything. like download a fix. so there is nothing crowdstrike can do to remedy this death update anymore. it is now left to the end users.
it was pretty quickly identified what the problem was. you had to boot it in safe mode, and a very small file needed to be deleted. or you could just rename crowdstrike to something else so windows never attempts to use it.
it's a fairly easy fix in the grand scheme of things, but the issue is that it is effecting enterprises. which can have a looooot of computers. in many different locations. so an IT person would need to manually fix hundreds of computers, sometimes in whole other cities and perhaps even other countries if theyre big enough.
another fuck up crowdstrike did was they did not stagger the update, so they could catch any mistakes before they wrecked havoc. (and also how how HOW do you not catch this before deploying it. this isn't a code oopsie this is a complete failure of quality ensurance that probably permeates the whole company to not realise their update was an instant kill). they rolled it out to everyone of their clients in the world at the same time.
and this seems pretty hilarious on the surface. i was havin a good chuckle as eftpos went down in the store i was working at, chaos was definitely ensuring lmao. im in aus, and banking was literally down nationwide.
but then you start hearing about the entire country's planes being grounded because the airport's computers are bricked. and hospitals having no computers anymore. emergency call centres crashing. and you realised that, wow. crowdstrike just killed people probably. this is literally the worst thing possible for a company like this to do.
crowdstrike was kinda on the come up too, they were starting to become a big name in the tech world as a new face. but that has definitely vanished now. to fuck up at this many places, is almost extremely impressive. its hard to even think of a comparable fuckup.
a friday evening simultaneous rollout boot loop is a phrase that haunts IT people in their darkest hours. it's the monster that drags people down into the swamp. it's the big bag in the horror movie. it's the end of the road. and for crowdstrike, that reaper of souls just knocked on their doorstep.
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Obsessed with the fact that the A plot of this episode is Jimmy and Kim trying to pin false cocaine charges on Howard while the B plot is Nacho fighting for his life at a motel in Mexico
#Also i have thoughts about gus as per usual but its nothing particularly new#just the fact that he isnt keeping it together super well and if you know what youre looking for its super obvious#like the fact that he knocks a glass on the floor while meeting with tyrus and mike#hes known for being put together and planning everything he isnt the sort of man to make a mistake like that without Something Else going on#obviously its because lalo is still alive because gus doesnt have control of the situation (he really likes to have control of situations)#even though nacho has done everything thats asked of him gus still wants to kill manuel#hes desperate and angry and hes slipping#but like cmon killing your employees father is Not a good way to cope with your feelings pls go to therapy#do you think on some level he wants someone to understand his pain? like obviously he wants people to suffer as he has#but do you think he also wants the connection that comes from understanding#and like i think thats why he was so nice to mike and so horrible to nacho after both of them tried to kill hector#because mike already lost the person he loved most (his son) but nacho hasnt. nacho hasnt suffered enough to Understand#he needs to suffer or he cant stay in the business (even though he doesnt wanna stay in the business)#god imagine being so bitter and hurting so much that you cant stand to be around people who dont hurt the way you do#and imagine not knowing how to deal with the anger and pain in any way other than plotting revenge and hurting/threatening to hurt others#but just imagine having all of that festering inside you for 15-19 years (depending on which show) god#imagine not being able to let go or move on or let yourself be anything other than angry and bitter and in pain after So Long#but i digress#đ§Șđ
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vent about my health in the tags
#i would really enjoy this 'new era' more if my body hasnt been falling apart since the end of may#has nothing to do with dnp but it sucks so much i literally cant do anything (or: i can but it will make it a LOT worse)#im scared that i cant even make myself food anymore and i live on my own with most of my uni friends away for the summer#im not totally alone tho i have some uni peeps that live in the area#but its still so scary like i need to take my bin out soon but i legit cant#and u know i have a bug problem (theyre hiding atm tho) and im so terrified of the bin amplifying that#idk what to do if it gets even worse and i cant leave the bed anymore#i lowkey really want my parents here just to take care of all that but theyre busy and also just got a puppy#the worst part is tho that no one takes my fear seriously#like yes bla bla it will get better but theyve been saying that for 4 weeks like atp it really shouldve gotten better already#i will be okay im manifesting that#i literally have to be when dnp start touring and i have tickets for copenhagen lol#i will wait a few days and if it keeps going as is next week im texting my psychiatrist to go off my adhd meds#because depression and nightmares for a few months are better than developing chronic fatigue for a lot longer#it is awful off meds but i do want to get back on them eventually#just on a low dose i think tho#anyway i wanted to put this on my dnp blog because not everyone here follows my main and might be confused with whats up#sage posting#personal
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Nanny Danny
âThat is a whole ass baby,â was the only thought running through Lex Luthorâs head when the scientist proudly showed him the tube containing Project KR. It was not remotely the sort of thing he would normally think and most definitely not what he had expected to be thinking the first time he saw the clone.
Heâd been pleased when heâd read the reports indicating the success of KR after years of failures. Lex had poured millions of dollars and literally his own blood into ensuring a clone of the alien could be made, one that would be under his total control instead of the unknown aspirations of Superman. Heâd wanted to see the fruits of his labors personally but thisâŠ
It. No, not an it. He scrunched his tiny face and smacked his lips andâŠdid he smirk? Was that HIS SMIRK on that babyâs face?! No. No. Babies this small didnât smile or smirk. They passed gas and their sleep deprived and addled parents mistook it for an intelligent response. Heâd heard enough inane conversations in the Lexcorp office about the various progeny of his employees to pick up on that but still. This child had Kryptonian DNA, not to mention his own contribution. Surely, he was far more advanced than the dribbling potato shaped lump of an infant whose pictures heâd been forced to smile and nod over when Mark from accounting had rudely shoved them in his face at the last quarterly budget meeting. Yes, that was definitely a smirk. His, that was his smirk.
âSo as you can see its growth is well within expected parameters and weâre planning to start phase one of accelerating the maturation process tomorrow once the testing is do-â
âTake him out.â
âSir? The testing can all be accomplished while it remains in the tube. Thereâs no need to-â
âI said, take him out. The project is cancelled.â
âWhat?! Mr. Luthor you canât!â
âI think youâll find I can. Now get me my son.â
*****
Two years later
âCall them againâ
âSir, Iâve called them seven times. They wonât answer.â
âThen call another agency!â
âThere isnât another agency, Sirâ
Lex glared at his assistant who stared back at him impassively. Mercy stood by the door staring off into the distance and pretending she didnât notice him being bested by his own secretary.
He stopped himself from shouting again and took a deep breath before asking, âThen what, exactly, do you propose I do Mrs. Anderson? Adjust my entire schedule around naptimes? Find a toddler size lab coat and safety goggles and bring my son with me to tour the new clean energy project on Thursday? Perhaps buy a tiny business suit while Iâm at it for the next board meeting?â
âIâm not suggesting anything of the sort, Mr. Luthor. Iâm telling you that no childcare agency in Metropolis will return my calls anymore. Most wonât even answer. Youâve gone through 27 nannies in the last 3 months. You need someone better suited to your sonâsâŠspecial needs.â
Lex snorted. âSpecial needs might be a bit of understatement. He can lift a car over his head and his favorite word right now is No.â
He sighed and rubbed his forehead. âThank you forâŠclarifying the situation, Marjorie. If thereâs nothing else, you can leave.â
His secretary didnât move. She looked at him like she was waiting for something and now that he was paying attention, he saw she was holding a file. Â âDid you have a suggestion?â
Looking pleased with herself she responded, âActually, yes, I did.â
âWell?â
She set the file on his desk and flipped it open. He looked down at the first page and raised an eyebrow, âWhat am I looking at here?â
âThis,â she responded pulling out the top set of papers and spreading them out, âis the employee file and background check for Daniel J. Fenton, an intern that started in our engineering department about 4 months ago. He has one sibling, two parents and several close friends he regularly meets with. His current supervisor has nothing but good things to say about him and reports he gets along well with all his coworkers.â
She set out the next set of papers, neatly arranging them on the desk to be easily seen. âThese are newspaper articles and screenshots of social media posts regarding a small town vigilante locally known as Phantom. The same small town, Mr. Fenton is from coincidentally. Also coincidentally, Phantom made his first appearance only a few weeks after Mr. Fenton was involved in a minor accident in his parentâs home laboratory when he was 14, the medical records for the incident are included.â
âHmm,â Lex said observing several photos of Phantom and a younger Fenton arranged in order of similar poses and facial expressions and printed out side by side.
âFinally,â she said handing him the last set of papers directly, âthis would be a report from the lab Mr. Fenton works in from an incident that happened yesterday. A test with a new protype went wrong and started a fire. Everyone evacuated per protocol when the alarms went off but one of the other interns was working on a programming issue off to the side of the lab while wearing headphones and didnât hear the alarm or notice the fire. Mr. Fenton noticed his absence and returned to the lab to get him out.â She stopped talking and let him look at the last several pages in the file, a series of photographs of the lab.
âIs this ice?â
âYes, it is. Itâs several inches thick and covers half of the lab. It completely put out the fire leaving minimal damage.â
âThis machine was moved?â
âIt was. It was very close to the flames and would have required replacement if exposed to extreme heat or cold. That particular piece of equipment also weighs several thousand pounds and was bolted to the floor.â
Lex read through everything in detail then clasped his hands under his chin and stared at the photo of Daniel Fenton for several moments before turning back to his waiting secretary.
âHave HR send Mr. Fenton up. Iâd like to offer him a promotion.â
#dc x dp#dp x dc#dcxdp#dpxdc#Lex Luthor saw baby Kon and said that's my baby#Good Dad Lex Luthor#He mostly stopped with the evil to be a good dad#He still does some villainous things sometimes#as a treat#it's enrichment in his enclosure#danny gets hired as a nanny#because Lex can't keep up with a super powered toddler#nanny danny au
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âïœĄïŸâïžïœĄâïœĄ ïŸâŸ ïŸïœĄâ
Alastor's antlers are embarrassingly, pathetically, unbearably sensitive.
He can't for the life of him figure out whyâit's not like any of the other transfigured creatures wandering around the underworld were made this way. Most other animal-like sinners don't seem to care about or even acknowledge their characteristics.
Yet here he is, purposefully hiding them away just so that no one will discover his terrible weakness. Oh, what he would give to be like the others if only to ignore their incessantly uncomfortable presence on his head.
Perhaps it was a curse from heaven that made him this way, or karma that he was repaying from his life. Either way, he can't stand being touched.
At least, that's what he thought.
There's no malicious intent behind your hands, no glint in your eye that makes the primal instincts in his head scream at him to melt into the shadows. You're as gentle as can be, fingers running delicately along the intricacies of his antlers and stopping just at the ends of them.
"They're beautiful," you whisper with your eyes blown wide. Your shoulders rise and fall with each rapid breath, probably from the adrenaline of standing so close to an Overlord like this. And Alastor, no less.
Your reliable hotelier. Your first real friend in the hotel. The one whose smile cannot be trusted.
But for some reason, you can't shake the feeling that he's looking at you with pure, genuine appreciation even if his smile is a little wonky.
"Why, thank you, darling!"
He jerks away from you quick as the wind, standing tall once again and towering over you. His expression has morphed into something more strainedâyou can tell by the way his face creases up as his eyes narrow.
He was the one who decided to invade your personal space while the two of you were arguing. He just didn't think that you would be so bold as to get distracted by his antlers and have the gall to reach out to touch them.
The worst part? The absolute worst part of it all is that no one in all the time he's been in Hell has been gentle with him like that.
Add that to the list of things he despises. Or likes. You're confusing him now.
âïœĄïŸâïžïœĄâïœĄ ïŸâŸ ïŸïœĄâ
You have some nerve, he thinks.
Your hands have found a new home resting atop his head, with your fingers combing through his hair and tracing up and down the curve of his antlers.
It becomes a nightly routineâhim on the barstool or sitting in front of the piano and you standing behind him with your fingers tangled in his hair and your chin on his head, perched right between the horns. Others in the hotel have started to raise a brow, but you don't seem to care.
So when you finally decide to break routine, sitting on the opposite end of the couch from him, his eye twitches.
There isn't even an audience tonight, everyone else already tucked into bed save for Husk behind the bar who's too busy with a bottle to care. The silence between you is heavy as lead.
"Is something the matter?" Alastor finally abruptly asks, eyes narrowed at you from the side. You shift uncomfortably.
"Why would something be the matter?"
He's not in the mood for games right now. "This is the first time you've sat away from me in months," he observes.
You look at him, surprised by his hostility over this. "Well, Lucifer told me that you don't likeâ"
"Lucifer," he interrupts, head now whipping to the side so he can fully glare at you. "Knows nothing."
You blink at him, stunned. With the way he's acting, he almost seems... annoyed that you've decided to stop being so handsy?
Silence overcomes you again as you just stare at each other, completely at a loss of words. Alastor finally realizes his snappiness and composes himself once more, exhaling through his teeth.
His smile softens at you, missing its usual edge. You know him like this the bestâhead in your lap and antlers exposed. It's familiar to you in a way that it could never be to anyone else. At least, you hope that's true.
"He knows nothing," the radio demon says one more time for good measure, eyes drifting shut under the weight of your hands.
Alastor has never liked to be touched before. But maybe there is a first time for everything, and maybe the safety of your touch brings him enough ease that you're the first he admits he can tolerate.
His smile says it all. He's content like this, even if he would deny it with his chest if you ever told anyone else.
"Okay," you breathe. "I believe you."
#alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fanfic#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin x reader#alastor fanfic#alastor fanfiction#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor x you#alastor headcanons#hazbin hotel headcanon#alastor fluff#alastor hazbin hotel#faye's thoughts â ïżœïżœ
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truth serum / system reveal au where shen qingqiu gets hit with an uncloaking spell that reveals the system in the reflection of his eyes every time it pops up.
during one of his missions, in the treasure hoard of some dragon-like creature, he finds a golden, oval shaped hand mirror, its gaudy style more victorian based than anything (airplane you hack!), that doesn't seem to do anything when he looks into it. but when he does, it reveals the system's screen in his eyes.
he doesn't notice this, of course, because he can't see it, and the system, surprisingly, stays quiet.
the peak lords think he's cursed.
maybe mu qingfang is the first to notice, during the mandatory post mission check-up, when shen qingqiu is scrolling through his most recently accumulated points and mu qingfang can see the strange vividly-blue lines reflected in his pupils. it's gone when shen qingqiu blinks, like it was nothing but a trick of the light.
it comes out when yue qingyuan is visiting and, just as he's done laying out the plans for a new mission, shen qingqiu's eyes glaze over and a bright blue box takes over the whole of his iris. shen qingqiu goes quiet; the thing in his eyes moves, shifts, pulses for a second, like static worms crawling all over his pupils. then he blinks, and it's gone, and shen qingqiu accepts the mission that yue qingyuan was almost sure he would decline.
maybe there is an intervention, when the peak lords corner shen qingqiu at qian cao peak and try to figure out what's wrong, subjecting him to all kinds of treatments and curse-finding spells that turn up empty, they can't find anything.
of course, the silencing threat is still very much up and running. at first shen qingqiu was kind of confused by the whole ordeal, but when the peak lords start describing a "strange blue box", he realizes, with sickening suddenty, that they're describing the system. and he can't say anything.
this only makes everything worse, because their fellow peak lord now keeps evading every question and acts like he doesn't understand. liu qingge points right at his face and asks, "that blue box, what is it?" and shen qingqiu laughs nervously and starts talking about how bright the weather is and surely it's the sky and nothing to worry about!
even worse, during the intervention the system thought it was a good idea to start talking to him, so now even the peak lords who hadn't seen it and who might have been persuaded by light tricks and reflections, get a first row view that no, that definitely isn't a trick of the light.
they try to do the whole thing of "are you in danger, blink twice" but shen qingqiu can't even do that because it's still a direct admittance!
maybe eventually he starts saying vague confirmations that don't actually confirm anything, like "this master hears what you're saying", or maybe he goes with a classic "this master can neither confirm nor deny that." but the system starts warning him for that too and eventually he stops saying anything, which worries the others more.
luckily mu qingfang catches on that every time they ask a direct question about the box or shen qingqiu says anything vaguely confirming, it appears. it doesn't appear when they ask about curses or demons, so it must not see that as a threat.
for a little extra angst: maybe the peak lords keep pressuring him for answers, and at some point shen qingqiu gets fed up and snaps out something like, "why don't you understand that i'm not allowed to answer that!" the system counts this as a direct admittance, threatening it's existence. so it punishes. shen qingqiu has a qi deviation so bad it lasts two weeks and takes two people every day to cleanse his meridians. the system doesn't appear in that time. it doesn't appear for a long while after that, either. the peak lords stop asking, mainly because shen qingqiu will instantly leave the room if they do. they don't stop searching for a cure, though.
shang qinghua returns from a business trip and catches on the second someone mentions a blue box and forced silencing.
#i like the idea of sqq sort of disassociating every time he talks with the system#like his eyes go unfocused and he goes quiet and doesnt seem to hear what others are saying#and the others always thought that was odd but hey. whatever. until some strange *thing* started showing up#i do also like the idea of the system slowly allowing sqq more liberties#bc its decided it likes this storyline#liu qingge comes to cleanse sqqs meridians and gets red with anger when the system pops up in sqqs eyes#but then sqq reaches out to him and says ''no. it... likes you.''#the system doesnt (cant) really like anyone. but its gifting him friendship points when liu qingge visits him and that's positive?#liu qingge doesnt see it as positive and gets even more mad because what do you MEAN this monster enitity ''likes him''????#liu qingge is going to kill it the first chance he has!!#yue qingyuan talks about a mission looking for volunteers and you can *see* his face fall when the blue box appears#''it wants you to go. doesn't it?'' ''this shidi would like to join this mission.'' ''i understand.''#sometimes the blue box appears and sqq looks *stricken*. like he just saw something really awful#but he just cant talk about it#svsss#scum villain's self saving system#scum villain#shen qingqiu#yue qingyuan#mu qingfang#system svsss#svsss au#reveal au
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husband of the year â ( prohero!katsuki x reader ) â in your defense, who would've thought he would barge in while you're at work? clearly not you.
The TV was broadcasting and heatedly narrating Dynamight's current Villain-of-the-Week takedown when your co-worker, Yaeko whom you remember by her pin-straight waist-length hair and delight in a bunch of hearsay, taps on your shoulder for attention.
"Mm?" you murmur distractedly, incapable of tearing your eyes away from how the camera has easily captured the swift fluttering mid-air, even if just barely. No ordinary person could keep up with the force that is Bakugou Katsuki.
"Ayane-chan clocked out early."
"Did she?"
Yaeko settles on the plastic chair on your right, watching the #1 Pro Hero absolutely pulverize the villain with the most elegance, Bakugou style. She doesn't take it in with the same rapt. Doesn't hold her breath or tighten her grip on her knees, not like you.
"Her husband picked her up. They're having dinner," Yaeko sings, then sighs dreamily. "Oh, if only mine would pick me up with a nice, sleek car."
The villain finally registers he's clearly overestimated his plan for victory and starts begging for mercy. Dynamight appears too distracted to even feel victorious about it.
"That would be nice," you agree, though you're not really sure what she's saying anymore as Dynamight takes the last win. His expression looks off â far away.
'And once again, #1 Pro Hero Dynamight proves why he's at the top, breaking his last three-minute record! Looks like he'll be securing this year's ranking as well.' The reporter gushes like it's some Olympic Sport. Dynamight would grin like a fucking bastard, too, usually, but not today, it seems.
"How come I never see your husband?" Yaeko asks all of a sudden.
"That would be no good," you say, chuckling. "He's busy enough as he is."
Yaeko appraises your assured smile. "Hm. Is that what he says?"
The reporter continues gushing, "And he flees the scene in a signature Dynamight hit-and-run. He might be off to save another city; who knows!"
"That's what everyone says, really," you say cryptically, moments later. You wonder why Dynamight looked so distracted. It wasn't like him.
In the immediate silence that follows, you spare a glance at your co-worker. Yaeko looks thirsty for prying, but as soon as her shoulder comes in contact with yours, she rears back with a gasp.
"You're still sick!" she admonishes, not unlike in the tone a mother hen if they could speak and grip both your shoulders. "I was wondering why you even came today when you were all but dying last night."
You jerk away. "I was just feeling a little feverish. Nothing too bad.â
Yaeko clicks her tongue. The chair slides back as she pushes off to get water from the dispenser near the TV. The reporter drones on about how fortunate they were to witness the Pro Hero in broad daylight, followed by the dispenser's buzz.
"Your husband let you out like that?" she asks.
"He doesn't know," you murmur shamefully.
Yaeko appears unimpressed, holding the cup to your lips. You sigh and move to keep the glass yourself, feeling a little petulant about it.
Commotion begins to pick up in volume from outside, muted by the walls. Yaeko pays no mind to it, but your hair picks up on its ends. When there's a stifled sound of explosion, you understand why. The news moves to a different topic, though it seems that the headlines made its way to you himself.
"Shit. Hide me, Yaeko-san. Please."
Yaeko frowns. "What? Hey, don't move so much."
The door slides open and presents the #1 Hero himself, sweating and seething and still looking like a dream. He has to twist his upper body, the door for ordinarily built men unable to accommodate his solid, beefy arms.
"You," he growls, eyes blazing.
"Noo." You shield your face with the crook of your arm, but there isn't a single wall in the world that Dynamight can't break through.
Behind him, the security guard emerges and looks rightfully guilty. He makes a gesture of 'I tried, sorry. It's up to you now.'
He grips your elbow and pushes it out of view until your face is bare, and you're witness to his very, very angry face. "I told you not to punch in for work."
He did say that. "UhhâŠ"
"You went all," He pitches his voice somewhere obnoxiously high, "'Don't worry, baby, I won't!' â we lyin' to each other now?"
You did also say that.
"Baby?" Yaeko whispers to herself, stunned.
Dynamight scowls, ripping his glove out to press it on your forehead, his skin ice-cold. You wonder if this is how the villain from earlier felt, though maybe with a little less arousal at the sight of his eyes. "Fuckin' idiot," he mutters under his breath.
"D-Dynamight, sir," Yaeko pipes up, looking shell-shocked, "please unhand my co-worker."
"Ha? You the one who asked this idiot to clock in?"
"No." You shield Yaeko's terrified expression with your hand. "No, she didn't. I did it myself."
"Yeah, 'cause you're a dumbass on your own," he says, and now the familiarity of bickering feels more like your Katsuki in the walls of your home. Your husband, who seriously came all the way here after kicking some ass. Katsuki turns to Yaeko. "Tell your boss we're leaving. Don't call."
And he pulls you up and drags you off. You half-expected him to throw you over his shoulder, but his neck brace might dig into your side painfully, and Katsuki has already considered it despite his boiling anger at your disobedience.
"Katsuki," you whine, heating up at the stonished staring while you're tugged off into the exit. "Did you really fly all the way here just to kidnap me home?
"The hell's with that," he snaps. "I'm clocking out for the day 'cause I'm not stupid like your stupid ass."
"Katsuki!"
"'sides," Katsuki gives you a long look over his shoulder, and oh, is this what he was thinking about the entire time? Your heart does a bit of somersaulting. "Who else is gonna take care of you?"
Yaeko can keep her nice, sleek cars. Nothing beats this.
#this was kinda lazy lolll still hope u enjoyed:)#ᄫᥠdekuneho#&katsuki#bnha x reader#mha x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bnha
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I've seen a lot of posts about Batman using his Bruce Wayne alter ego for the good of Gotham: job programs for felons released from prison, orphanages, charities, high wages for his employees, ethical business practices...the legendary post where Bruce Wayne goes to Wal-Mart.
Thus far I've never personally seen anybody really dig into the persona of Bruce Wayne the Billionaire Playboy. A handsome, rich, powerful man who always is seen at fancy galas, art openings, charity dinners, and wild parties with at least one beautiful woman on his arm.
We know Bruce Wayne is the mask, and its Batman who has a...complex love life, depending on the iteration we're talking about. Talia, Catwoman, sometimes Wonder Woman.
Bruce Wayne's dates, on the other hand, are all "normal" people. Maybe they're an aspiring actress, a supermodel, a prima ballerina, the occasional reporter...and every time there's that bit of nervousness at the start.
Sure everyone knows Bruce Wayne. Everyone knows the story with him. Sometimes his wilder parties make the news, but there's never really been anything nasty reported about him. Never...allegations. But he's a billionaire. He's one of the most powerful people in the whole city, nevermind the country. If he did have some skeletons in his closet. Well. Men with power have a way of making those kinds of stories go away, don't they?
As time goes on the Date's fears dissipate pretty quickly. Bruce Wayne is nothing but polite, kind, and at times charmingly awkward in an 'raised by his butler in a mansion' kind of way with his dates. Some of them can tell he's holding back, of course. Maybe the more perceptive Dates notice he's smarter than he lets on - playing the himbo or hamming up the "know-nothing rich boy" act to the cameras or some of his wealthy peers.
He also listens, is the thing. He's always listening to what they're saying, is interested in hearing about their careers, their hobbies, their lives. Really listens, too. Might refer to something a Date said weeks later off-hand. Buy out the whole museum for a private dinner date with a famous painting from an obscure artist they like, or a private performance with another's favorite band.
He has anecdotes and funny stories for days that somehow says very little about his personal life. The Dates know he has kids (it's practically a running gag in the news that Bruce Wayne has adopted yet another orphan) and maybe she might spot one of them at the mansion, but Bruce seems very keen to shelter them from any intense spotlight and scrutiny, and they all seem happy if a bit weird like him.
Eventually, there's drifting. He's a very busy man, with a very busy schedule. On more than on occasion his nice old butler will call and extend apologies that Mr. Wayne will not be able to make it this evening. Sometimes it's virtually impossible to get a hold of him over the phone. After a while they stop trying. None of them feel quite surprised by that. In the end, it just doesn't work. Sure, he's a little distant and doesn't make himself emotionally available...but he's not a bad person.
Especially when the so-called "exes" of Bruce Wayne start networking. Gotham isn't a small city, but the social circles Bruce Wayne travels in aren't as big. They don't quite gossip or complain about him. More like...who else would get it?
(I touched his side once and he winced...like he'd been hurt real bad there. He laughed and said it was tackle polo. How does that even-?)
(Somehow, after two dates, he saw right through me and listened while I told him what that casting director tried to do. He nodded, gave me the contact details of a law firm, and said not to worry about the legal fees.)
(I don't know for sure it was him, but it can't be a coincidence that my building got bought out from under my shitty landlord and we were all able to buy our apartments under market value.)
(He got my brother in the best rehab program in the city after his relapse. It probably saved his life. We'd stopped dating months ago, I still don't know how he found out.)
(He gave me a card with a phone number and told me that if I was ever in trouble to call it. Said one of his cars would come to pick me up, any time, any place, no questions asked. The one time I did have to use it after a bad party, it was Alfred.)
I think any tabloid reporter digging around for salacious stories or dirt about Bruce Wayne's love life would be completely and politely stonewalled when they try asking his former Dates. Even when money is offered. Every single one of them.
#I like to think Alfred is like...a mythological creature#to all of Bruce Wayne's exes#though lets be honest the kids too#Damien just feels like an intimidatingly intense kid who would ignore if outright avoid them#but would immediately talk to any of Bruce's dates if he spotted cat hair on their clothes#''I would like to see pictures of your American shorthair''#''Uh...hi. How did you know-?"#Bruce Wayne#Batman#Secret Identities#Headcanons
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An AU where Tintin is a crime lord, inspired by @jerseyhobby 's post here!
Detective Rastapopoulus is one of the most brilliant minds in his department. His talent has been long overlooked due to his status as an immigrant, but when a new teenage menace starts to stir up the streets, Rastapopoulus's knack for digging into the murky depths of the criminal underworld is called upon.
His target is only known by his alias, Tintin. At just seventeen he already has a few bank heists, smuggling operations and a chain of illegal clubs under his belt. He operates like a phantom, making himself hardly known. Those who have had business with him never recall him raising his voice, as he simply does not need to. Manners go a long way, and manners are an effective mask for the brutality required to maintain such an operation.
Few are confirmed to know him personally. He has his beloved dog, Snowy, who has a taste for expensive jewelry, and his right hand man, a pickpocket-turned jewel thief he met in Shanghai. Together they are unstoppable, nothing is outside their reach - and when the Karaboudjan, a large shipping vessel goes missing, along with its crew and captain, Rastapopoulus just knows they are involved. If only he can keep his temper and ego in check, he might just be able to finally put an end to Tintin's reign of chaos, and perhaps earn the recognition he so desperately craves.
I think an AU where Tintin uses his abilities for crime would be an interesting way to see how he's impacted people he's met, so for this take I have only inverted Tintin and Rastapopoulos - Haddock is still an honest man, but his vulnerability leaves him open to being manipulated. He becomes Tintin's equivalent to Allan Thompson, only this time motivated by fear for his life rather than money. Alcohol, threats and his rock-bottom self esteem keep him in line.
Calculus is scammed by Tintin for his inventions, leaving him feeling deeply betrayed as he is someone with strong morals. He vows revenge, his tunnel vision leading him down incredibly destructive paths. He was initially targeted by Tintin because he just seemed naive and easy to exploit, but Tintin severly underestimates him, despite Chang's warnings. Not only does Tintin have the law on his tail, but a mad scientist with nothing left to lose, who has access to devastating explosives.
Chang simply wants somewhere he belongs. Canonically he's stolen from cops before, so there's no doubt that if Tintin dragged him into crime he would follow along - but he may start to doubt if their bond is built more on what he can do for him rather than his value as a person.
Rastapopoulos this time gets to use his cunning to catch a slippery crime lord, but he still has the same shortcomings as his canon counterpart. He sorely craves attention and praise. He has a terrible short temper. He craves power and influence. He starts to use increasingly questionable methods for his investigation, as his higher ups breathe down his neck for being incapable of catching a couple of queer teenage hoodlums.
Tintin himself isn't motivated by money or power, he's looking for thrills and control over his life. Canonically he's rather emotionally shut off, and he's no different here. He doesn't let himself get too attached to anyone else. Unlike canon Rastapopoulos, I can imagine a crime lord Tintin pouring money and resources into communities in need, and opening up spaces for marginalised groups like bars for queer people. He still wants to do good deep down, but just doesn't quite believe he is a good person.
#tintin#fanart#adventures of tintin#captain haddock#archibald haddock#rastapopoulos#chang#snowy#professor calculus#cuthbert calculus#animation#opposites au#opposite universe#gifset#detective rastapopoulos#tinchang#ive been really low on energy recently#so i probably wont be able to post much from now but i'll try#but yeah the animation in this post is kinda bad sorry lol
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Protector | Feyd-Rautha x reader
ANON REQUEST: your marriage to Feyd-Rautha is an arranged one, and your only task is to provide an heir. When you finally become pregnant, your new husband suddenly grows obsessed with youâbut does he care about you, or is he simply protective of his progeny?
Warnings: pregnancy, labor, and related talk; canon typical violence
MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN!
Your marriage was one born out of duty, not love. You couldnât even call it a marriage of convenience; there was nothing convenient about leaving your homeworld and traveling across an entire galaxy to marry someone you had never even met before. Yes, the Houses had agreed beforehand that you were to marry Feyd-Rautha, the Na-Baron of House Harkonnen, and immediately after the deal had been struck you had seen his face and read his writing, but you hadnât met him until your wedding day.
You had chastised yourself for thinking it could be like the fairytales of Ancient Earth. You, a princess, your betrothed a handsome princeâŠin the stories of your childhood, he would have whisked you away, off to a great, shining palace full of magical wonders, and you would have lived happily ever after. Instead, your prince had proved to be disinterested in you, busying himself with his arena and his concubines, ignoring you most of the day. The Harkonnen fortress did not shine, nor did it hold any great wonders, and Giedi Prime felt far from magical, with its harsh black sun and polluted landscape.
After your vows, you had naively thought your wedding night would be full of romance. Perhaps you had been holding onto hope as a means to protect yourself, clinging to optimism to distract yourself from your harsh, sad reality. You had been all too eager to shed your dress and veil in Feyd-Rauthaâs living quarters, though had not expected them to be ruined by his blade, and you had not expected him to greedily conquer you as if it were yet another battle in the arena. He had slept next to you that night, but had made it painfully obvious that he had no interest in holding you or even touching you, keeping far to his side of the bed while you remained far to yours. In the morning, you had awoken alone, and had realized that it was the beginning of a long and lonely road on your new planet.
Everyone expected an heir. That was the entire point of this marriage, a legitimate heir for the Harkonnen line. Anyone else could have done itâyou were of fine breeding, yes, but any of the other Houses could have offered up a daughter to suffer at Feyd-Rauthaâs side. Why it had to be you surely came down to the only things powerful men seemed to care aboutâmoney and spice. An allegiance with House Harkonnen protected your family, and your small share of spice harvesters on Arrakis added yet another drop into their vast bucket and one less smuggling operation to worry about. Your parents were happy. Baron Vladimir Harkonnen was happy.
And you were miserable.
Two months after your wedding, your monthly cycle continued as normal, and you were forced to shamefully inform the na-Baron. After an annoyed sound and a grimace, he bent you over the nearest table and took you for a second time, leaving you to clean yourself up and cry at your husbandâs callousness. You didnât know why he couldnât bring himself to care. You supposed he already had everything he could possibly want; wealth, concubines, a throne to inheritâŠyou brought nothing of real value to him, save for the ability to produce an heir.
Time passed, and it became clear that Feyd-Rautha would have to touch you more than once a month if he was to have any hope of fathering a child. You cursed yourself for your apparent inability to conceiveâfertility had been one of your parentsâ selling points when negotiating with the Baron, and now, you couldnât even do the one thing that was expected of you. It brought you to tears every night, the stress of being reduced to this and yet still being unable to perform your task. It was maddening, though you knew you were hardly the first woman to find yourself in such a situation. You did worry, however, that you may have been the weakest.
One evening, as Feyd performed his husbandly duties, he noticed a tear slipping down your cheek and paused. You felt a rough hand cup the side of your face and opened your eyes to find your husband staring at you with dark eyes, his head tilted to suggest he was curious.
âTears?â He asked in his raspy voice that was still so alien to you.
âMy apologies, na-Baron,â you looked away from him.
âYou are crying.â
You stifled an annoyed sigh. âYes.â
âWhy?â
âDo not worry yourself with me, husband.â You said.
âTell me.â
This was perhaps the longest conversation you had had since marrying him, and part of you didnât want it to end. You looked at him once more, finding him still watching you with that unwavering, predatory gaze, and another tear rolled down your cheek and onto his hand.
âI am sorry I have not given you a child.â You whispered.
âThen let me put one into you.â
His tone sent a chill down your spine, frightening and exciting you all at once. That night, Feyd-Rautha did not let you sleep, shocking you with his determination. It was simply because the sooner you conceived, the sooner he could return to his own concerns, you reasoned.
Sure enough, your period did not arrive when expected, nor did the next. A medical test confirmed what you already knewâyou were pregnant, with Feyd-Rauthaâs child. A Harkonnen child, who would grow up to be just as ruthless and savage as its father, you thought.
Upon receiving the positive result, you immediately set off to tell the na-Baron. He should not be made to wait; you wanted him to know that the entire point of your union was finally achieved, and that you could both go back to ignoring each other as usual. As you walked, you had the worrying thought that he may not even keep you alive after the delivery.
âNa-Baron,â you addressed him upon finding him in his armory.
He looked up from the blade he was sharpening. âWife.â
âI bring news,â you said, folding your hands in front of yourself.
âThen tell me, before I grow bored of waiting.â He returned to the hunting knife, looking away from you once more.
âI am with child.â
You watched as Feyd-Rautha paused, tilting his head to look at you. âMy child?â
âYes. Who else could it possibly belong to?â You asked, exasperated. âThe physicians confirmed it just now. I wanted you to be the first to know.â
He nodded slowly, looking back at the knife in his hand as he thought. âI see.â
Whatever hopes you had once had for him to suddenly flip his entire personality at the news were quickly dashed by his lack of emotion. You left him there, a hand over your mouth as you tried not to cry, returning to your bed to be alone once more.
-0-
In those earlier days of pregnancy, you were often ill, sprinting from bed to the wash basin nearly every day to be sick. Usually, you were alone; Feyd-Rautha rose early, spending his mornings training and sometimes killing his instructors. Whenever that happened, he would come back, wearing blood and a grin on his face as if he had just won some great contest.
Today, however, he was enjoying a rare occasion of sleeping in. He had begun spending his nights in the center of the bed, crowding you as you attempted to stay away from him. One morning you had even woken up to find his arm throne over you, his body closer than ever. Now, he was sleeping, and you would have been content to let him remain there were you not busy launching yourself over him as you ran to the adjoining wash room.
You missed the way your husband sat up, eyes wide and frenzied as he pulled a dagger from beneath the pillows. When he found the room to be empty and free of danger, he grew confusedâŠuntil he heard your retching in the next room, and slipped out of bed.
âWife?â He asked from the doorway.
âWhat?â You groaned, leaning your cheek on the cool basin.
ââŠare you alright?â
You sighed. âNo, na-Baron, I am not. I meanâŠI am, I justâŠâ
âYou are sick,â he pointed out.
It took every bit of willpower you possessed to swallow down the part of you that desperately wanted to throttle him. âYes. I am. Itâs the pregnancy, the pills from the doctors havenât been workingââ
âThis has happened before?â He interrupted.
âMost days, yes,â you felt another wave of nausea coming over you and hunched your shoulders, preparing for the worst.
You never expected to feel a cool hand brushing your hair away from your forehead, nor the feeling of your husbandâs chest against your back as he held you.
âHarkonnen women donât have this problem,â he commented as he held your hair.
It was the least helpful statement he possibly could have made as you vomited once more, and yet it was also quite possibly the best.
âIf Harkonnen women have no hair, then what do you pull?â You asked wryly, too ill and too exhausted to hold yourself back.
Feyd-Rautha stared you, unblinking, before a smirk found its way onto his lips. âIf you are feeling brave, perhaps I will show you one day.â
You let out a laugh as the nausea ebbed, leaning back against him. âPerhaps one day I will finally stop seeing my lunch so many times, and then you can regale me.â
-0-
Your sickness faded as your pregnancy progressed, thankfully, but Feyd-Rauthaâs company did not. By the time you were beginning to truly show, he was refusing to leave you alone, demanding your presence wherever he went. As a result, you sat in on many a sparring session, and he made up his mind to abandon the arena until after the baby was born. His sudden change in attitude was shocking; he had never paid so much attention to anything before, and now, his hands were constantly on you.
âI must keep you safe,â he had said when you first asked about it, and had acted as if it were the most obvious thing in the universe.
You assumed he was protective due to the baby, the precious new heir to the Harkonnen throne. As its vessel, you were afforded some luxuries, but you fully expected that to change after the birth. For now, though, you were content to receive any and all attention your husband saw fit to pay you.
âThat went well,â you said one day after the doctor examined you.
âHe should not have touched you like that.â Feyd-Rautha growled.
âWhat do you mean? Heâs a doctor,â you laughed, somewhat nervously.
âI did not like it.â His voice was tense.
âI could tell.â You grumbled, dropping your happy façade. He had nearly chased the doctor out of the room, hunting knife in hand. âExaminations are unavoidable, Iâm afraid.â
âNo more.â
âButââ
âNo more strangers touching you.â
"Doctors help," you protested. "Don't you want your child to be healthy?"
At that, Feyd paused in thought. "...You may have a Harkonnen midwife."
"Because a Harkonnen doctor is too much?" You asked dryly.
He glared at you briefly before looking away towards the door. "Come."
You audibly groaned, one hand on your lower back. "Na-Baron, I am tired. I wish to retire to bed."
He looked back at you, and you caught an expression of distress on his face. "I need to train."
"You train every day."
"Yes." he said it as if it were obvious, but something in his tone suggested more; he made it sound urgent, as if it were something he had to do daily, and missing a single session would be disastrous. "Come."
You heaved a sigh and followed him.
-0-
In the months that followed, your unborn child grew, as did your body. You found yourself becoming large and bloated, your gait slowing as your flexibility waned. New maternity gowns were brought to you, an interesting mix of styles--the flowing, heavy garments of your homeworld meeting the simple, stark aesthetics of Giedi Prime. You found them strange, but at that point, you really didn't care; you would have walked around naked if no one would have stopped you. You spent your days feeling uncomfortable and awkward, with swollen feet and a sore lumbar region. Harkonnen servants brought whatever you needed, and your husband ensured--no, demanded--that all of your food be tasted by someone else while you watched so that there could be no chance of poison passing between your lips.
You wondered if this was simply some aspect of Harkonnen culture that the other Houses weren't aware of or never cared to talk about. Perhaps on a planet as harsh and toxic as Giedi Prime, infertility and infant mortality were more commonplace than the rest of the known universe. Perhaps this possessiveness was common among Harkonnen men, if conception was more difficult for their people.
Whether your theory was correct or not, Feyd-Rautha had certainly become even more attached to you. Not a morning went by when he wasnât there next to you in bed, and as of late, he had begun waking you up by reminding you exactly how you had ended up like this in the first place. Before your pregnancy, he had acted as though bedding you were a boorish duty he had no choice but to perform; now that you were heavy with child, however, he was more than interested in you physically, constantly touching you with those rough, murderous hands.
You enjoyed the attention, and you enjoyed the way he squeezed and massaged you with surprising gentleness. He didnât want to break you, you supposed, not right now; after the child arrived, perhaps, but not now. That was a grim thought, and one you had oftenâwhat was to come of your after the birth? Would Feyd-Rautha want more children, in case this one died some horrible, brutal, Harkonnen death? Or would you be disposed of, no longer needed after his legacy was secured?
You tried not to dwell on it.
One morning, you roused on your own, without Feydâs interference. Wondering if he was even still there, you reached out to the side, feeling for himâand you nearly jumped when you felt bare flesh beneath your hand. When you rolled onto your back with considerable effort and turned your head to the side, you saw that your husband was there, still sleeping, and that what you had felt was his exposed chest.
You took the moment to look at him, really look at him. He seemed so peaceful like this, when he wasnât fighting and killing. You had seen him take lives so quickly that his victims hadnât even known they had died, and you had wondered how someone could be so dismissive of those around them. The first time you had watched your husband slit a throat, you had nearly vomited, and he had found your revulsion amusing; the most recent, however, you had simply sighed and looked away. You were desensitized, it seemed, just like he was, and now, you slept just as easily after watching him commit horrendous acts of violence as he did now.
Feyd-Rautha was handsome as far as Harkonnens went. His skin was smooth like marble, free of the scars and bruises one might expect to see on a warrior. His face, usually so harsh during the waking hours, was relaxed now, and you realized he was beautiful. You couldnât keep yourself from brushing your fingers over his lips and feeling how surprisingly soft they were, though in a way, this felt wrong. Feyd-Rautha didnât strike you as the kind of person who would allow this sort of touch, but when would you have this opportunity again? He always rose first in the morning and slept last at night. You never caught him with his guard down, and you kept your hands to yourself during the day. This was the only time you could marvel at him like this.
As your fingers ghosted across his cheek, he twitched, and you froze. Then, to your horror, an eye cracked open, and you knew that he had been awake all along.
When you moved to pull away, he caught your wrist, then covered your hand in his. He held your gaze for several long, strange moments, and you realized that he hadnât simply been awakeâhe had been allowing you to touch his face, to explore him in a way you had never been brave enough to before. It felt like a gift, in a way. In his way.
âI apologize,â you breathed, unable to look away from him.
âWhy?â He asked, voice deep and rough with sleep.
âI should not have touched you without permission.â
âI am your husband,â he said. âAnd you are carrying my child. You do not need permission to touch me.â
Somehow, you knew his words carried a deeper meaning. You knew you were one of, if not the only, one on all of Giedi Prime whom he had said those words to. And for the first time since marrying him, you felt that Feyd-Rautha was truly your husband.
-0-
He was with you when the labor began.
You had been lounging in your shared chambers, enduring the final week of your pregnancy. It felt bittersweet, in a way; you had no way of knowing then if you would ever be experiencing this again, and a part of you desperately wanted to hold onto it while the rest was fed up with feeling massive and uncomfortable every day.
Feyd-Rautha had been agitated all morning. It was as if he had known something was about to happen, and he had spent his time barely containing himself as he paced and sharpened knives, attempting to keep to himself and leave you alone and doing a piss poor job of it. You had been ready to chase him out of the roomâor at least attempt toâwhen you felt your waters go and the panic set in.
That had been three hours ago.
Now, you were in your bed, and a shockingly-diligent Harkonnen na-Baron had yet to leave your side. He had briefly stepped into the corridor to bellow at the nearest passerby and your midwife had arrived very quickly as a result, but after that, he had sat down next to you and refused to go anywhere else.
âIs it agony?â He asked as you stood.
You shot him a glare. âI would not wish this sensation on even you.â
He was taken aback by your tone, impressed, even, by the venom in it.
âA short walk about the room may help,â the midwife suggested. âI will assistââ
âNo.â Feyd-Rautha was up and at your side in an instant, taking your elbow. âI will.â
You didnât care who did what, you just wanted it to be over and done with. The labor was progressing quickly, the midwife assured after another check once you were back in bed, and soon, you were wailing and grunting, your face was sweaty, and the na-Baron was staring in awe. You were focused on the task set before you, one hand on Feydâs arm as you pushed with all your might, and so you could not see the way your husband was looking at you.
When your son was born and crying at the top of his tiny lungs, Feyd-Rautha cut the umbilical cord with a hunting knife and then he stared. It seemed that the entire time, he was incapable of looking away, his eyes glued to either you or the new Harkonnen heir. You supposed he had been too enthralled to order the midwife out of the room, and the woman was smart enough not to push her luckâshe did the necessary examinations as quickly as she could, then handed the baby off to you, busying herself with cleaning what looked like a murder scene and gathering the afterbirth when it came. Then, satisfied with her work and the health of the child, she left, and you were alone with your husband and son.
You cradled the infant, tucking him against your breast and pulling the edge of your robe over him in an attempt to keep him warm. He was born pale, like his father, but with a soft layer of hair that made you wonder how much he might grow to look like you. The midwife had said it before she slipped out, and you had to agreeâhe was beautiful, and you smiled down at him.
A thud startled you and you turned to see that Feyd-Rautha had fallen to his knees at your bedside, looking at you with a reverence you had never seen in anyone before.
âFeyd?â You asked.
He looked between you and your son, and you saw then that something had changed within him over those many months. Gone was the dismissive, uncaring husband you had wed; this Feyd-Rautha had grown to become a protector, one who would fight until his muscles tore from his bones, who would bleed himself dry for you.
âYou are stronger than I knew,â he murmured, brushing a thumb over your cheek much the way you had with him all those nights ago.
You felt a lump in your throat. âCome here. Join us.â
He did.
Feyd-Rautha sat with you there, in your bed, the very bed your first child was born in. He watched as your son woke from his peaceful, short nap, and he was privy to the private, intimate moment of his first feeding. He held the baby, staring at him in wonder and what may have been a touch of fear, supporting the both of you as he helped you to the bathing room when you were well enough to stand.
âA son,â he said, watching the baby sleep that night.
âYes.â You mumbled, exhausted and nearly asleep as well. âAre you pleased, husband?â
âI would have been just as pleased with a daughter.â
That surprised you, and you glanced over your shoulder to see him propped up on an elbow, watching your son as he slept in his simple Harkonnen manger. âReally?â
âYes,â he said, never once taking his eyes off the child. âI can teach a daughter to fight just as well.â Finally, he looked down at you. âAre you well?â
âAs well as can be expected.â You sighed.
âAre you happy?â
âYes, I am,â you answered him, sleep already dragging you down.
You barely felt his lips as he pressed a kiss to your temple, and you barely heard his voice as he said,
âI am as well.â
-0-
You had expected Feyd-Rautha to grow cold in the weeks following your sonâs birth, but he never had. He was attentive, caring for you in a way that suggested he felt some primal urge to drag back great beasts for dinner every night but modern living prohibited that.
Now, you watched as he stood before one of the massive windows within the Harkonnen palace. It was evening on Giedi Prime, but the black sun casted no shadows over the landscape. Feyd-Rautha held your son, whispering to him, and as you watched, you wished the moment could stretch on forever.
âHusband,â you said, approaching him.
âWife,â he greeted you, turning.
âOn your evening walk together, I see.â
He chuckled. âI am showing him everything he will one day rule over.â
âI am surprised you havenât taken him into battle with you yet,â you said sarcastically.
âI will strap him to my chest so that he might taste the blood of House Atreides,â he said with a grin.
âThe youngest Harkonnen warrior the world has ever seen.â You smiled, leaning in to check on what appeared to be a perfectly happy, albeit possibile bloodthirsty, baby.
âWhat are you doing walking alone?â Feyd-Rautha asked.
âLooking for you.â
âAnd now that you have found me, what do you intend to do?â
You leaned into your husband, resting your head on his shoulder. âDrop the baby off with the wet nurse, seduce you, take you to bed and then have my way with you.â
âYou have my attention.â
âI thought you might be interested in trying for a girl this timeâŠâ
In a blink, he had spun you around and was dragging you down the corridor, and once the baby was safely tucked in with a nursemaid watching over him, you did indeed have your way with your husband. And again. And again. And you realized, as you retired to bed that night, that you were truly glad to have been arranged to marry Feyd-Rautha, heir to the Harkonnen throne and father of your children.
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â„ Chauffeur .
â„ old!manlogan x fem!reader
summary: mean old logan canât help but to push the best thing away in his life. and you canât help but to let go of your worst.
â„ tags: stubbornness, age gap (readers in her late 20s), reader is a mutant, old man logan having a wet dream, car sex, riding, creampies, possibly pregnancy, reader is very rich and established, brat taming, readerâs boyfriend is an ASSHOLE, logan is an asshole but thatâs nothing new, etcâŠ
note: we all wanna ride, old man logan. also, stepping away from jjk for a bit. wc: 4.9k
Everyday was the same when you got into the car. There was a smile on your face and you greeted him, even if you didnât get a response most of the timeâyou still treated him with kindness. He was your driver after all and you were trusting him with your life.
â45th and Madison, please.â You placed your purse into your lap and buckled up as he pulled off from your house, keeping his eyes on the road.
âHow was your night Logan? Get any rest?â You stared at the side of his face, taking in his rugged features. âGood.â Was all he grunted, hands gripping the steering wheel as he navigated the busy streets of New York. You didnât bother to question him anymore, not wanting to piss him off on this beautiful morning.
The car ride was silent on the way to your company, the only thing that couldnât be heard was the soft hum of the car and the sound of the air conditioner blowing its cool air. And when he pulled up to your job, you opened your mouth to speak, âthanks, and hereâ.â you leaned over and handled him an envelope full of money, the scent of cigars and cologne invading your nostrils; making you swoon.
He muttered a thanks and you quickly got out of the car, âIâll text you what time to pick me up! Later Logan~â You waved and smiled, watching the old man pull off into the nearby trafficâbefore you entered the double doors to your million dollar company.
You were one of the top businesswomen in the world, employing the most mutants and paying them fairly. You started this company when you were just a teen, not seeing any jobs for mutants when you were growing upâso you decided to make that change. You wanted a safe place for mutants to be able to work in, something like your mentor; Charles Xavier wanted.
You had to do it for your people, especially when the whole world was against you all.
Even though you were a multimillionaire and you owned a license, you didnât have time to drive yourself around. You hired Logan after a friend recommended him. They praised him for everything that he did for them, he was more than a driver, and when got the chance to meet him in personâyou were sold.
You grew very fond of the older man as time passed. He plagued your mind as you worked, his face clouding your thoughts while you were in important meetingsâdriving you insane. It was clear as day that you had a crush on him, however despite how you felt; you knew he would never think of you like the way you thought of him.
âWill you have dinner with me tonight? Wear that red dress that makes you look like a fucking supermodel?â The voice of your business partner and boyfriend broke you out of your daze, while the two of you ate lunch in the high-end lounge your company acquired.
Eric, was a guy you met at a press conference that supported you when you wanted to have more mutants employed and treated as normal in the world, when the public was against your kind. He was intelligent and an all around amazing person, and when he asked you out one dayâthe two of you immediately hit it off. You were happy to have himâŠ..but there was something you didnât like. He would put himself first before you.
He did this a couple of times, putting him and his buddies before you; and you called him out on itâbut he always apologized and told you it wouldnât happen again. Liar.
âWill it just be us this time? Last time it was me and your frat brothers. And I hate that night, you left me all alone.â You pouted and he chuckled before leaning over to kiss your lips. âItâll just be us this time, I promiâhold that thought,â his phone started to ring and he quickly pulled it out; talking to whoever was on the other end. You sighed and continued munching on your food, before you headed back to your office; alone.
Logan was already outside of your office when you finally exited your companyâs building. You hopped into the truck and he pulled off once you buckled up, heading into the direction of your house. âHow was your day Logan?â You looked at him through the mirror, studying those hazel eyes of his, which connected onto yours as he answered you.
âGood.â You smiled and relaxed into your seat, enjoying the ride back home. âOh, Ericâs and I are going out to eat. You can come inside while I get ready, it shouldnât take long.â You beamed and he tensed up in his seat. You couldnât see it, but Logan rolled his eyes and gripped the steering wheel at the mention of your boyfriend. He wasnât fond of him, thought the guy was an asshole from the moment he met him. He felt like you deserved better, he knew you did.
But, who was he to judge? He was no saint himself.
After he pulled up to your house and the two of you entered, you were immediately greeted by your calicoâPersia. She purred and rubbed against your leg before she spotted the tall man a few steps behind you. The cat inched over to him and sniffed his pants leg, before she rubbed herself against him; purring once more. Logan grunted and you smiled, reaching down to rub the soft furred animal, âsheâs never donât that before, she usually hisses at strangers. she must really like you.â
As you stepped deeper into your house, putting down your things and slowly stripping out of your work clothes, before turning to the grumpy old man standing at your front door, âHe wants me to meet him there. Iâm going to get ready, in the meantime are you hungry? Foodâs in the fridge.â
âIâm good.â His voice was gruff and his face was blank, when he connected eyes with you, moving away from your cat. You unbuttoned the last black button to your matching button up, leaving you in your deep green matching underwear setâcausing him to look away. âI have a huge liquor cabinet, help yourself.â
He watched as you ascended up the stairs before shaking his head and entering your kitchen. He admired your boldness, comfortable enough to undress in front of him, but he felt like he didnât deserve to see you like that. No one did. Especially that fucked face motherfucka, Eric.
Logan took a look at your cabinet, impressed with your collection of wines, cognacs and other strong liquids; but he was more impressed to see this thirty year aged whiskey you had. Hibiki Whiskey, his favorite. He smiled to himself and grabbed it along with a glass, pouring a nice bit into it; before downing itâthe smoothness flowing down his throat beautifully.
He sat on your couch, sipping on the dark liquor, while taking a look around your house. He found comfort in the decor, your home feltâŠ.safe. Something he hadnât felt in ages. It was so safe that he couldnât help but drift off into sleep, something he hardly did lately.
He mustâve been sleeping for a while, deep into his dream; this one a little different from the oneâs he usually had about you.. You had frequented his dream world on occasion when he did sleep. Your warm smile was something he saw on a daily basis; when you were cooking for him or sometimes the two of you appeared in a field of flowersâyour smile overshadowed the sun. But, this one was a lot different. You were on top, riding him.
Everything felt and looked so realistic. The same emerald green set you wore was glued to your body. The panties were pulled to the side, your essence sticking to them and his cock; while you bounced. Your body looked so beautiful and he knew he shouldnât be dreaming about you like this, but he couldnât help himselfâespecially when you turned around; face contorted in sheer arousal. And then he lost it, when you opened up your mouth and moaned his name.
âLogan~â fuck, he could feel you clench down on him, as you brought your ass down on him againâmoaning his name once more. But this time you were louder, repeating his name over and over again; his tired hazel eyes shooting open, staring at your own. You were standing in front of him, wearing a beautiful ruby red dress; which clung to your body and accentuated your curves, smiling at him.
âSorry, I didnât mean to startle you. But, I need your help zipping up my dressâplease~.â He nodded, shifting in his spot to hide the boner that was poking through his black corduroy pantsâreaching over to help zip you up. His rough fingers melted into your soft skin, as he held his hand on your upper back for support; his mind going right back to his dream. Fuck, he was going to hell for dreaming about you like that.
You looked beautiful, standing a little taller than usualâthanks to your gold heels that matched your jewelry. You decided to curl your natural hair, which framed your soft made-up face. He could stare at you all day.
âThanks. Iâm ready to go!â And there you go with that smile, that slowly melted his cold heart.
You waited outside of the restaurant in the car, waiting for Eric to show up. It had been ten minutes since you arrived and he still wasnât there, wasnât answering his phone either. Your gut told you to leave, but you couldnât bring yourself to itâyou were hoping he would show up. So, to get your mind off of him, you sparked a conversation up with Logan.
âHey Logan, tell me about yourself. What do you do besides driving?â He clenched his teeth and kept a grip on the carâs steering wheel.
âNothing.â
âReally? I heard you were a bodyguard and a hitman. What was thatââ He turned around and glared at you, cutting you off as he spoke. âListen. Iâm not one of your fucking girlfriends you sit and gossip with. Got it?â His voice was deep and scary, while his eyes told a different story. However, you nodded and looked away, blinking back the tears that wanted to leave your own.
Then, your phone rang and you immediately answered. On the other end of the line was Eric, apologizing about not showing up and begging for the two of you to reschedule. You swallowed the lump in your throat and told him that it was alright, saying you were tired anyways; before hanging up and slumping into your seat. âTake me home.â Was all that you could muster up to say, before a stream of tears cascaded down your faceâruining your makeup.
The car ride was silent, besides the sounds of your sobsâwhich slowly broke the old man. He kept glancing at you through the mirror, feeling like a dick because he played a part in your sadness too. But, an apart of him felt angry, he wanted to kick Ericâs ass for standing you up. How could he not see what was right in front of him?
As the car halted in front of your house, you immediately got out, slamming the door behind you before you sped walked to the front doorânot looking backâtoo embarrassed to speak to him. And one he saw that you were safely inside, he drove off and headed into the direction of the nearby barâready to drink the night away.
This was one of the worst nights ever and neither of you would forget it.
The following days were like a blur for you. You hadnât been to work for a week, taking some time off to try and understand your mental.
That day played in your mind over and over, you were hurt twice that night. But, the look on Loganâs face haunted you. You could tell there was more behind those eyes, besides all that anger, something else laid behind themâand you wanted to know more. No matter how much he tried to push you away.
Currently, you were sitting on your couch with Persia by your side, eating ice cream and watching whatever was on tvâignoring the spam calls from Eric; when you were startled by a loud pound on your front door. You looked at the door then at Persia, fists clenched as your powers started to surge; before you started to creep towards the door. You swung it open, ready to pummel whoever was on the other side, until you saw who was standing on your porch.
Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped, looking at the older man who was covered in blood and holding onto his arm. âLogan! What the hell happened?â You asked, helping him into your home and shutting the door afterwardsâto hide him from any nosey neighbors; before you ushered him into your downstairs bathroom. He sat down on the toilet with a clang, before he started to remove his clothes; with your help.
âWhose blood is this?â You asked, putting his bloody beater into the hammer behind you before inspecting his scarred face. âMost of it was someone elseâs. Donât worry, Iâll heal.â He moved away from your touch, but you immediately pulled him back; your eyes piercing him.
âI know, but until your healing factor kicks in, im gonna help. And i'm not asking.â He chuckled and nodded his head, before you used your powers on himâstopping the blood from leaking out until his own powerâs kicked in. One of his thick eyebrows raised in confusion, before you answered him.
âBlood manipulation. Now letâs put that shoulder back in place. Here, bite down on this.â You handed him a washcloth, but he declined.
âJust do it, princess. I can take it.â He reassured and you stared at him for a moment, before whispering an âokayâ. Without warning, you gripped his arm and pushed it back into his socket, making him yell out in painâhis claws unsheathing in the process.
âIâm sorry! Iâm sorry!â You apologized, making him shake his head in response. His claws retracted and he pulled you in by your waistâhis body heat warming you as you stood next to him. His hazel eyes searched all over your face, lingering on your plump lips before backing up to your soft irises, âneed a drink, right now.â
The two of you sat in your kitchen, sharing a bottle of ten year old cognac, while Logan shared stories about what he didâanswering your question from last week. âI also take care of CharlesâŠ.Charles Xavier.â You swallowed the smooth liquor, before responding.
âOh, I knew that already.â He raised an eyebrow and you giggled, continuing. âHe accidentally called on your phone, thinking I was Taco Bell, until I spoke with him. Heâs a funny guy, Iâve always imagined he wasâŠâŠI was a big fan of his when I was younger.â There was some silence, as he thought about the Professor and his current state.
You got up from your spot and put your glass in the sink, done drinking for night, before going into the fridge for a snackâuntil his deep voice made you stop moving. âLook, princessâŠ.about the other nightââ
âItâs fine. No need to apologize.â
âNo, but I need to. I was a jerk and you just wanted to get to know me. So, I'm sorry.â He was now standing in front of you, towering over you, still shirtless from earlier. Your eyes trailed over his hairy, toned abs, before you looked up at his beautiful rugged faceâpressing your thighs together as you felt that familiar pulsing between your legs. You nodded and turned on your heels to leave, but his rough hands pulled you back; making you stumble, before he caught you.
âWhat happened to you and whatâs his face?â He spoke and you snorted, rolling your eyes at the thought of Eric. âHeâs an asshole, who likes to waste my time.â
Logan clenched his teeth, feeling himself get upset at the mere thought of him mistreating you. âDick canât see what the hell he has right in front of him?â You blushed, and bit your bottom lip, your smaller hands reaching up to toy with his platinum dog tags. âNeither can you.â
He froze and you stopped moving, eyes slowly looking up at his, until he leaned down and pulled you in a wet, sloppy kiss. His hands immediately went down to your ass, squeezing the soft fat through your tiny black shorts; something he thought doing for a while now. You squealed when he picked you up and placed you onto the countertop behind you, never breaking his lips from yours. Despite being an old man, he still had the same strength he did when he was younger.
He kissed down from your lips to your chest that was hidden behind your hot pink beater, nipples standing at attention. He circled the imprint of them with his tongue, making you moan out, before he made his way down to your clothed cunt; your arousal plaguing his nose.
âKnew you wanted this since earlier, could smell her calling out for me~â He swiped his tongue over your clothed slit, slick already staining the dark fabric. He pulled the shorts down with ease, hazel eyes growing darker as he was met face to face with your bare cunt; your essence making your puffy lips glisten.
âShit.â He cursed, loving the sight of your pretty pussy dripping just for him, he couldnât help but to dive in and enjoy the meal you had set right in front of him. The sensation of his beard and his tongue rubbing against you, made you moan out; back arching off of the counter and your hands tugging on his salt n pepper colored hairâgrinding against his face.
He worked wonders on your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud, forcing more and more of your sweet translucent arousal from your aching hole; building up your orgasm. Logan spat against your soaked cunt, using his fingers to rub it all over soft lips; before pushing a thick finger into your holeâmaking you yell out a series of curse words.
âGonna cumâf-fuck! Just like that Logan!â He continued to lap up your juice and pump his fingers in and out of you, curling themâmaking them punch your spot over and over; making you gush all over him. The grip you had on his hair was tight as you came, but he ignored it and continued to draw out your orgasm; before pulling away and pressing his wet lips against yours.
The kiss was sloppy, filled with nothing but hunger as you licked every inch of his wet face, tasting yourself; a low hum leaving his lips. And as your hand reached down to feel the bulge in his pants, he pulled awayâmaking you whimper. But, when he backed further away and wouldnât look at you, you noticed something was wrong.
âLogan?â You started, slipping off the counter, legs wobbling as you stood and walked over to him; only for him to back away once more.
âGotta go. This was a mistake.â And before you could protest, he made a beeline to your front door, opening it and shutting it behind him; not bothering to grab his shirt or turning to look at you.
What the actual fuck?
You returned back to work the following day. Logan dropped you off of course, but he barely acknowledged youâevident he didnât want to talk about what happened yesterday. But, you needed to talk about it, wondering what made him stop. Surely he didnât think you would just be alright with him eating your pussy and making you cum, and not feel something about him?
However, you would deal with the grumpy old man later. Today, you had to face the asshole of the year, Eric. You left the car with a simple âbyeâ to Logan, before taking the elevator ride up to your officeâs floor, trying to push yesterdayâs events out of your mind.
Your baby blue heels clicked on the wooden floor as you sashayed down the walk way, making heads turn and people cheer; excited for your return. However as you approached your office, you were stopped by your assistant, who had a look of worry on their face.
âWhatâs the matter?â You questioned, looking at your office before going back to your assistant. They gulped and prepared themselves to tell you what lies in your office.
âMr. Ericâs in there...and heâs not alone. Heâs with anotherââ you cut them off and storm past them, opening the wooden door, eyes glued to the horrific sight in front of you. Your boyfriend was balls deep into your new intern, having her bent over your crisp white desk.
The sound of the door slamming shut startled them and the girl screamed, scrambling to pull her skirt down, while apologizing to you frantically. You held up your finger and shushed her, motioning to the door so she could leave. And once she did, you immediately sauntered over to the guilty maleâbody temperature increasing by the second.
âHow long?â You questioned, your tone flat and emotionless. He stuttered, but then he looked down and looked back upâa devious smirk on his face.
âA good couple of months now. Whyâd you think i pushed for you to hire her? What, did you think Iâd actually love someone like you?â He chuckled, circling around you, while you raised an eyebrow. âAnd what does that mean? Someone like me?â
âYour kind! A fucking mutant! Iâve been using you from the beginning, I just wanted to get my hands on this companyâhave you mutants under my control. Starting with youââ You set him flying back with a punch to his cheek, making him fly through the door; knocking it down.
All you saw was red as you marched over to him, your employees shocked at what was going down, but none of them dared to step in. âThisâŠ.this is what I expected from you people! Pure chaos and violence.â He smirked, blood pooling from his mouth as he spewed his hate.
Using your powers, you were able to make more blood flow out of him; making a wound in his lungâwhich caused him to cough up some more blood. And as you raised your fist to punch him once more, your wrist was caughtâstopping your movements. You turned to see Logan, his hazel eyes begging for you to stop.
He smelled danger when he was on his way up to your office, since you had forgotten your phone in the car he wanted to bring it to you. Only to be met with you about to kill a man.
âHeâs had enough. Let him go.â You knew better than to protest, so you used your powers to close the internal wound on Eric; calming yourself down as Logan pulled you back into his arms. âGet him out of here, heâs fired!â
You were fuming in the car. Angry was an understatement, you were pissed. You were humiliated. You were hurt. Logan couldnât stop checking on you through the rear view mirror, until he decided to pull over to the side of the roadâputting the car in park. He hopped out of the car and opened up your side door, nodding for you to get out.
âLoganâwhat are youââ
âLet it out. It helps to let everything out.â You squinted and chuckled. How ironic of him to try and help you not keep things bottled inside.
âYou canât be fucking serious! You of all people, trying to give advice on their feelings? Youâre the fucking king of keeping things in!â You stepped closer to him, but he didnât budge, letting you get it all out of your system.
âYou pushed me away from the beginning! Then you come in my fucking house like a wounded dog and then on top of it allâyou made me have the best orgasm of my life and let me fall in love with you! Who does that!â Hot tears rolled down your pretty face, while you poked into his broad chest with each word.
You were right. He did push you away. He couldnât open his heart, his stubbornness would allow him. But, he couldnât let his past haunt his future, not anymore. So, he decided right then and there to finally open up and let you in.
Logan pulled you in close, the smell of his cologne and the cigar he smoked earlier was soothing; it warmed youâwhich made it easier for you to accept his kiss. All of that anger washed over you while your tongues danced with one another. You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck; while gripping your hips and picking you upâmaking his way over to the car and placing you in the seats, laying you on your back.
He wasted no time and tugged off your clothes, your grey dress falling to the floor; along with your panties and bra. He stepped back, taking a moment to bask in your glory. You were beautiful and he was going to cherish this moment forever.
His slacks dropped to his ankles and you watched with lidded eyes as he pulled his cock out, making them widen. âKnew you were huge~â you said, your slick pooled and dribbled down your crack, making the black leather seats glisten underneath you.
Logan grabbed his girth, rubbing against your swollen clit; eliciting moans from your sweet lipsâcoating himself in your fluids. Angling himself at your entrance, he pushed himself in; stretching you as he eased himself in.
âGoodââŠ..girl. Thatâs it, princessâtake all of itâ He grunted, praising you as you were able to take all of him in one go. You winced, his tip pressing into your cervix, making you inch away from himâonly to be pulled back in. He wanted you to sit there and take it. He was going to give you exactly what you wanted. Some dick.
He held your hips, your legs wrapped around his waist, as he began to move inside of youâhis strokes were deep and powerful; making your eyes roll back and your lids flutter. The more he moved, the more you grew arousedâmaking you a moaning mess while he fucked the shit out of you.
You clung to him with each stroke, making the older male grunt. Your tits bounced and clashed against each other as the two of you moved, hypnotizing Logan. He leaned down and plopped one of them into his mouth, sucking on your nipples like it was a peppermint. You moaned out, hands clawing at the back of the seat right next to youâpleasure too intense for you.
He was fucking you so good, splitting your pussy open with each movement; orgasm rising inside of you. âPlease! Logan, I'm gonna cum! Waitâslow downâfuck!â He ignored your pleas, his pace increasing by the second. Who knew that this old man could have that much stamina?
Continuing to make a mess out of your pussy, he continued to rub against your g-spotâmaking your orgasm course through you. You clung to him and clenched around him sporadically, creaming all over him. He growled, feeling his own orgasm creeping up on himâbut you pulled out, causing him to groan.
âSit. Wanna ride you.â
His hands clung to your waist, helping you bounce on his dickâfilling you up completely. You gripped his shoulder for support, as the car rocked with your movements. The sound of your pussy and the clapping of your ass against him, made him feral and he couldnât help but to grip your assâhard, pushing you further down on him.
âFuck, princess. Where do you want it?â
âInside! Deep inside of me.â You didnât care what would come afterwards. You just didnât want him to stop fucking you. Logan pressed another kiss to your lips, rough hands smacking your ass as you moved wildlyâwalls getting ready to milk him dry. And with a few more hard bounces, he spurted deep inside of you, inner walls being painted a nice shade of white.
Rocking your hips against him, another orgasm made your body shake; cheeks jiggling against him as you cameâmoaning his name repeatedly.
The two of you stayed like that, his cock softening inside of you, while he continued to bottom outâbefore he pulled out, tip hitting your ass. You kissed him once more, content with how the night ended; finally with the man you deserved to be with.
âI love youâŠ.promise to not push me away?â
He smiled, the first time you saw it on his face, and nodded.
âI love you too.â
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Tender Loving Care
pairing: Aemond x Reader
summary: after a training accident, Aemond's wife takes care of him. In more ways than one.
tags: heterosexual sex, cowgirl, massage, hand job, cum eating, cranky Aemond is a good boy for his wife, mentions of the other members of the Green but not present.
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Training accidents were as common as breathing if one wanted to master the sword.
If one wanted to hold a blade, then one must also be prepared to suffer its bite. Aemond was well aware of this. Even though it was just training, play fighting for the knights & instructors brought in from all over Westeros to teach the prince, he had been cut before. Nothing serious. Nothing like his eye. He wishes it had been. It would make this latest injury less wounding than the others.
A simple misstep, that was all. His own clumsiness was what put him in this bed. His leg wasnât broken or maimed, but twisted in his fall, to the point that he could put no weight on it. Or at least that was what the maesters said.
2 weeks. That was the punishment for his own mistake. He was not to leave this bed save to relieve himself and the few moments a day he was granted to stand & test his legs progress. Each day was a new torment. Not for the pain, Aemond could handle that, but the failure of trying his leg and only have it betray him again & again. He wondered how his father did it all those years trapped in his bed. Aemond would have begged for death sooner.
âHusband,â the prince looked up from his window and thoughts of limping over to throw himself out of it, when his wifeâs voice came into the room.
One of his few constant visitors during his confinement. Helaena came to visit him but was busy with her children. Aegon only came once, to taunt him about his trip more than anything before he left and a back handed âget better Aemond the Fierce!â. His mother came as well but flapped between concern and scolding for his ârecklessnessâ. She was the only one who seemed genuinely concerned for him, though her concern was not needed. Aemond did not wish to feel more like an invalid than he already did. âWhat is it?â
âIt is time to change the bandage on her leg.â To keep it straight. To keep him bound, he thought with a spat, although Aemond arched a brow at the comment.
âWhere is the maester?â His wife was many things, but she was no practitioner of medicine nor magic.
She sighed. âDid you really expect them to come back willingly after last time?â Aemond pursed his lips.
Under the best of circumstances, Aemond was aware that he was not the most agreeable person in the realm. Could anyone really blame him? His existence had taught him over & over that it was better to lash out and cut first, lest you be the one who is sliced. Metaphorically, of course. He wasnât a mad man like some of his ancestors. And attached to this bed the only weapon at his disposal was his words. He had cursed, jeered, and ranted, honestly uncharacteristic of himself, at the maester who had attended to his leg the day before and had the nerve to tell him his progress was splendid. If it was so splendid then why was he still in this bed? If he was such a great man of knowledge and skill, why hadnât he healed him yet?! He should go back to whatever dung heap he crawled out of and beg alms for to the gods for wasting a fine Citadel education on an incompetent!!
The prince said a few more unkind things before he forbade any of them from touching him again. He did not think they would take him seriously.
âSo, they sent you to do the work of a common barrio healer since they do not wish to do their jobs?â
âI think it was more that they thought you wouldnât scratch at me. More fool they then, hn?â
Aemond sunk further into his pillows, sulking. He doesnât mean to scratch at her. He doesnât mean to scratch at any of them, honestly. He just wanted to get out of his bed and go on with his life. To have the world move on around him, to grow weak and irrelevant in this bed, was the real punishment. âIâm sorry.â He apologized. ââŠthank youâŠfor helping meâŠâ
âYouâre welcome Aemond.â
How quick she was to accept his apology. How quick she was to help him, already coming to his side despite his scratching, when he needed her. No wonder he was always aloneâŠ.
The prince did what he could for her as he raised his leg from the pillow propping it up and held it there while she unwrapped the old dressing. âAre you sure you know what you are doing?â It was not meant as a slight. Just a genuine curiosity on if she knew the proper way to wrap his injury.
His wife just chuckled. âYes, Aemond. Despite not wanting to come in here on their own, the maesters did instruct me on how to do it properly.â Cowards, he thought. âThere! All done.â
Aemond looked at his leg with his good eye and tried to flex at his foot. His nostrils flared at the persistent pain, but it was wrapped correctly. He was impressed. âThank you.â
âOf course. I want you healed as soon as possible as well.â Her hand reached for his on the bed and clasped it. âIn factâŠI was told of another treatmentâŠ.one that might help with theâŠcirculation in your leg.â
âOh?â Aemond was curious about that. Trapped in this bed, his legs were not getting the work out that they normally would. Training aside, the walk around the castle was enough exercise for most lords. He hadnât been able to go more than a few steps for days. His legs teetered between weightlessness and the sharp pricks of falling asleep all the time. âWill it improve my condition?â
âItâŠ.couldâŠâ She seemed unconvinced. Avoiding, even. But perhaps that was because the last person who made remarks about the improvement of his condition was threatened to be fed to Vhagar. âWill you let me try it?â
What was there to lose, he thought, and Aemond nodded before he helped her take off his lower bed linens so both his legs were bare. A small vial appeared out from her pocket, and she poured some of its contents onto her hands before rubbing them together and placing them on his leg. âJustâŠtry to relax for me.â
A hefty ask, but he does try. All he could do recently was âtry to relaxâ. âRest, my princeâ, âyou need time to healâ. It was all he had heard for the past days, to the point that any word close to ârelaxâ had almost the opposite effect on him. But for her, he does try. For her it worked a little. His shoulders finally untensing. Looking at her in the candlelight. Soft feelings swelling at the touch of her soft hands. âDoes it feel good?â
âYes.â He answered, almost without thinking. It did feel good. He didnât realize how stiff his leg was until this moment.
Aemond let out a deep exhale. Not really a sigh, just the release of all the air in his lungs and tension built in his body. His eye closed as he laid back and let his wife work. They arenât strong, but persistent. He continued to enjoy until he felt her hands shift up higher. Up his calf where his injury was to above his knee. âWhat are you doing?â
âWhat??â Her shocked face was particularly adorable in the soft light. Wide, wild eyes. Body frozen save for a soft tremble in her shoulders. âI..Iâm rubbing your leg. I told you.â
âMy injury is not there though.â He told her logically. Gaze still fixed on her for any kind of reveal.
âIâŠI knowâŠâ Her hands shift to seem to want to move away from him, but she willed them to stay still. âI just thoughtâŠmaybe there was some other tension I could help you withâŠ.â
It was Aemondâs turn to be shocked, but he doesnât show it on his face like she does. His wife was a lady. A demure, kind, noble one at that. Though she wasnât nearly as boring & cow eyed as the other noble ladies on offer to him at the time of his betrothal, or so Aemond assumed as he didnât pay much attention to any of them, boldness like this was not heard of in their marriage. She never denied him. Seemed fond of when they were together; or at least made all the right noises like she did. But it was always he who initiated such acts in their bedroom. To see her offer, and on offer, as he finally took in her appearance and the thin robe she had come to him in, Aemond would not deny that it was quite arousing.
Without another word, Aemond parted his legs further to give her room. If this was her intention, he would not deny her. There was a flush on her cheeks that bleed down her neck towards the V of her robe when he did this. Her resolve seeming to waiver, and disappointment started to drip into his chest at the prospect he may have ruined this too with his terrible attitude, but she continued.
The prince sighed. Gladdened to feel her hands on him again and closed his eye with a newfound desire for his treatment, now that he knew what was going on. âHigher.â
âHere?â
Her coquettish tone was a tonic to his ears. She was enjoying this. She was enjoying touching him and playing with him. His cock jumped as it filled fuller. More aroused by the fact that his wife truly did want him than her hands close, but not close enough, to his member. âHigher.â
âHere?â
Aemond opened his eye and genuinely growled at his wife. Though this game was amusing, enticing, it had been days since heâd found release. Being stuck in this bed did not really spur a person on towards desire. And though she laid with him at night like a good wife she had been spared from her âwifely dutiesâ for some time as Aemond was either still in too much pain from his leg, or unable to move it to perform the act, or in too bad of a mood to make the effort. Having her close. Feeling her touch. It was like the flood gates opened on a dam he had long since locked up and threw away the key on. âPleaseâŠ.â
His kind, noble, demure wife took pity on him, and also took his cock in her hand. Aemondâs head tilted back as he moaned. Her soft hands stroking his member from under his night shirt slowly, deliberately. She had touched him before, so she knew how he liked it, but honestly she could have touched him anyway she liked. Like a clumsy novice that first night they were together, and he still would have melted in her hands.
âDoes it feel good?â
âYes.â Again, without thought. But headier this time. More needy. He opened his eye to look upon his wife and found her staring at him. Those bright eyes darkened with desire. Heâd never seen it before; mostly because when they were together her face was either buried in his chest, or shoulder, or in the pillows. Aemond bit his bottom lip hard. Trying not to cum at just the sight of her.
âItâs ok.â She told him in a whisper. Like it was a secret between the two of them. âYou can let go husband. Will you let go for me?â
It was the softest command that Aemond had ever heard, and yet it forced him to obey more than any other. His back pressed further back into the pillows as his head tilted back again. His cock spasming in her hand as his seed leapt out from the tip. Covering her hand and perhaps getting some on her pretty robe by her knee. He would have to get her another one.
He opened his eye again after coming down from his high. Just in time to see her lick his seed off the palm of her hand. âWhat are you doing?â
âWell, the royal seed is sacred, is it not?â Her grin was soft, but mischievous. âWe should not waste it.â
Aemondâs hand darted out to grab hold of her arm and drag her down to him in a deep, needy kiss. Apparently the flood gates he thought were released earlier were in truth just a leak in the levees. This was when the dam broke now. The need he had for her burning so hot that he could almost taste blood at the back of his tongue, his blood was boiling so hot.
He tried to spread his legs wider to make more room for his wife, but when he moved, he was reminded (painfully) of his injury. âDamnit!â The prince hissed against his wifeâs lips. The throbbing in his leg almost in tandem with his cock.
âSsshâŠitâs ok Aemond.â He wanted to bite at her soft words.
It was not ok! None of this was ok! He was injured, in pain, stuck in this bed, and now he couldnât even fuck his wife! He felt useless. He felt angry. He felt humiliated not being able to do things as a man should, and he just wanted to get back to normal!
Before he could tell her any of this, however, his wife pulled back and removed her robe from her body. Mesmerizing in the fire light. No Valyrian alabaster, but still just as dazzling to Aemond. Shift discarded, his wife raised her hips and inched closer to hover them over his own. âThe maester said not to move unless absolutely necessarily.â He wanted to argue that laying with his wife was absolutely necessarily, particularly in this moment, but all his words left him on a moan as she lowered herself onto him. âSo you just stay there. L-Let me take care of you.â The little stammer in her voice as she started rolling her hips almost sent Aemond into a frenzy, but he endured.
He genuinely couldnât move with her on top of him like this and his position on the bed. Though why would be want to? For the first time since his accident, Aemond was actually ecstatic to be stuck here in this bed. His wife lovingly impaling herself on his member. Riding him with skill just short of a dragon rider. If he had the wits still about him, he would have chuckled at his own joke. âDragon riderâ. As it was though he was stupid with lust. Dumb, witless, helpless at her mercy as she took from him everything and gave him back so much. He still had brains at least to return the favor.
His wife cried out when he reached up to cup her breast. The weight of them in his hands something he missed. Aemond does not get a lot of time to enjoy them, however, as his wife suddenly fell forward. Covering his body with her own. Hips still moving but at a much snappier pace with the depleted gap between them. He didnât care though. His hands just repositioned themselves on her other mounds at her backside and pressed her to move faster.
âA-Aemond!â Her cries were his music. The tempo in which he set a new rhythm.
The wet sound of their sexes kissing along with their actual kissing fill the room, until it all stopped in one bright, shining moment of his wife shaking on top of him while her fists tried to fight his pillows and he spilled inside her this time.
He wished he could hold her like this for longer. Her weight a comfort, like a blanket, in his arms. But she rolled over onto his non-injured side to lay beside him. It was good enough. âDo you feel better now?â
Aemond looked down at her, having to turn his head completely as to not just look at her with the sapphire in his eye, realizing at last what this was about. Her idea of a good will effort. To lift his spirits and relieve his tension. Maybe keep him from trying to execute more of the maesters in the castle. âYes. Iâm feeling better.â
She smiled, then placed a soft kiss on his shoulder. âGood.â
The fingers from the hand around her own shoulders played with her hair as he stared at the ceiling. âWas this all just for me though?â
His wife looked at him with a perplexed look, but then realized what he was asking and blushed. She was smart enough to figure it out. âNotâŠall of it. I did want you to be in better spirits butâŠI have missed you.â
The corner of Aemondâs lips ticked up. Pleased, and pleased with himself. He did not think his sexual prowess was worth much compared to his prowess with a sword or strategy. But to hear that his wife wanted him, truly wanted him, was all the praise he would ever need. âSo, you came up with this idea to satisfy both of us, Äbrazyrys.â
âIt wasnâtâŠ.all my ideaâŠâ Aemond arched a brow at his wifeâs words. Curious now where she had got the idea from, as it had clearly come from somewhere. âAegon commented on your bad mood and how someone should âcheer you upâ. He gave me the idea, but the rest of it was all my doing.â
Aemond wasnât sure which comment he was more shocked about. The fact that his brother knew how he was faring in his recovery, or the fact that he made lewd comments to his wife. He was battering between feelings of an odd sense of touched and white hot furry, but he decided to just let it go for now and enjoy his wife. âWell, thank you, regardless. In future I will try not to scratch at you while I am still confined to this bed. Lest you ask.â
She giggled when he kissed the top of her forehead. âAnd the maesters?â
âThey are on their own.â Idiots. âI make no promises on their safety, but I willâŠendeavor to be of better character in the future.â At least not threaten to feed them to Vhagar. That seemed a reasonable adjustment.
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