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kierahn · 9 months ago

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DRIVEN. [ y ! assassin x m ! reader ]

[ nsfw, minors DNI ]

yandere! assassin x journalist! male reader

warnings :

nsfw

forced non-con [in bold letters]

dead dove

reader death

slight torture warning

semi-necrophilia ?

hi, i'm back after three months of dying🧍‍♂️ it might take me awhile before i post a fic again, but here's an update for you guys.

malachi was a man whose services could be availed with just the right amount of money. he isn't the type to settle for less, confident that he was beyond excellent at doing his job.

ask him to dispose of someone and it would be as if they never existed in the first place. most of his victims' bodies had never been found. that, or they would be beyond recognizable when found. traces of his victims' existence would be gone in a pull of a trigger, with only their names to be remembered by their loved ones.

you were a journalist, renowned for your boldness and endless pursuit for the truth. unlike malachi, your silence can't be bought by any amount of money. you never hesitated to shed light on several issues which made you a formidable force in the eyes of the elite. after all, a journalist who values transparency above anything is someone to be feared by their kind; shrouded with secrets that they dare not reveal to the media.

you were well aware of the risks that came with your job, but that never once detered your work. truly remarkable, but idiotic in a sense.

you knew that it would all come to bite you back someday. with all those companies that you had brought down and names that you have ruined; maybe this was your karma catching up to you.

even as you stood at the receiving end of malachi's gun, regret never once entered your mind. you will never regret challenging the elites. they were nothing but a bunch of cowards, hiding behind their status and disposing of anything that threatened to destroy it.

over the past few months he had been keeping a watchful eye on you, malachi hadn't expected you to barely flinch despite having a gun pressed against your forehead.

"what an interesting reaction," the male on the other end mused as his calculating gaze studied your unfazed expression.

you truly were a bold one, always so headstrong and indifferent. even when threatened with a bullet through your skull, you stood your ground, not even a yell for help or a plead for him to spare you.

"why am i not surprised," a sound of amusement escaped malachi's lips. "you've always been so fearless. perhaps, you were already expecting this to happen."

he wasn't entirely wrong, you've long envisioned this scenario inside your head.

you stood with an oddly placid expression before the barrel of his gun, but your hands told a completely different story. they trembled against your sides, a stark contrast to your calm demeanor.

you were scared.

you could only hope that he could do it quickly to save you from further embarrassment.

"there's no point in prolonging this, is there ?" you spat out in spite, opening the door for death who stood at your doorstep.

your eyes were always so full of challenge, malachi wanted to rip that away from you. he had always wanted to see you with a different expression; whether it was fear or something more.

"a shame," he slightly lowered the gun in his hand, now pointed right where your heart lies. "i've grown quite fond of you, journalist." malachi shamelessly confessed.

something you two had in common was being highly driven by your work. unfortunately for you, malachi still had a job he was committed to.

‘ bang! ‘

he didn't fret over the possibility of the gunshot being heard by a passerby. if anyone were to investigate the source of the sound, he would simply dispose of them too.

malachi watched intently as you dropped to the ground.

and there it was. your fearful expression.

your eyes were wide with tears as you clutched your side where the bullet lodged itself, your breathing laboured as your mind quickly worked to try and numb out the excruciating pain you felt. curses left your lips, the warmth of your own blood trickling down your wrist.

he wasn't quite contented in ending things there. normally, he would go for a swift kill and dispose of his victims afterwards. however, he had purposely shot you in a spot that didn't instantly put you to rest.

the sound of footsteps nearing your fallen form reached your ears before your hand was forcefully ripped away from your bleeding side and pinned beside your head, leaving you more vulnerable than you intially were as your killer straddles your bloodied waist.

malachi's eyes scanned your tearful expression with a hint of content. absentmindedly, his free hand moved to caress your open wound.

"!!" an excruciating scream left your lips when malachi suddenly dug his finger through your bullet wound.

his grip around your wrist tightened when you started to thrash around under him, your survival instincts kicking in. you tried to throw him off of you, but your frantic movements only caused your wound to open up more.

malachi clicked his tongue in disapproval, removing his finger from your wound. "now you're just making things harder for yourself."

“HN!– ha.. f.. uck you,” you curse him through gritted teeth. your expression hardened as you shut your teary eyes tightly, trying to minimize the pain.

he leans down to move his face close to yours, examining the tears that slid down your reddened cheeks and the saliva that trickled down your chin. malachi drew his hand that was stained with your blood, brushing it under your eye and leaving a streak of crimson red.

"you know," he starts softly, feeling you tremble underneath him. "this look suits you better than the stoic one that you always wore.”

"i bet i can make you show so much more than that," malachi chuckled darkly, his words holding anticipation. "consider this a parting gift for my dear journalist."

the male roughly grabbed your cheeks to prevent you from struggling when he leans in to capture your lips into a forced kiss. his other hand left your limp wrist to rest, slipping under your bloodied shirt and brushing over the bullet wound up to your chest.

his touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the tight grip on your cheeks. anyone could tell that malachi was, to some degree, fond of the man under him.

he soon broke the kiss to trail his lips down your neck. his lips land on your shoulder where he suddenly bit down to leave his mark, making you flinch and let out a pained groan.

malachi pulled his lips away and gently licked the bleeding bitemark to try and soothe you in a way. he straightened back up to examine his handiwork.

your eyes seemed to be in a daze, your breathing slowing down. it was a clear indication that your conciousness was beginning to slip. but before life could completely escape you, malachi lands a harsh slap to your cheek.

"don't be so ungrateful, y/n." he warns, grabbing your cheeks roughly once more, his hand that was under your shirt leaving to grasp onto your thigh. "leaving without accepting my gift. no, no. i won’t let you do that.”

malachi released his grasp on your cheeks by roughly tossing your head to the side, he worked to unbuckle your belt before slipping your trousers down to your knees. he was seething. you couldn't leave him just yet, not without him seeing your expressions as he's (literally) fucking the life out of you.

your vision swayed as the blood loss eventually made you cease your struggles. the light in your eyes was slowly fading and so was your warmth.

but that didn't stop malachi from getting his entertainment. after pulling down his own trousers, malachi rammed himself into you in one single thrust, leaving you with no preparation as you jolt at the sudden intrusion.

you weakly claw at the male's clothed chest. there was just so much pain, from the bullet wound on your side to the bitemark on your shoulder, and now the size that stretched you out dry. you could feel something warm trickling down your thighs, a a texture you could recognize.

you sobbed quietly as the pain doubled when malachi started to move without giving you the time adjust to his size. the tip of his cock worked its way on your insides, trying to find the spot that would make you melt under him.

his eyes watched as your pained expressions turn into one of hesitance. readjusting himself, malachi sets his pace. he knew that he finally found the right spot when he felt your thigh twitch in his grasp and your walls tighten around his dick. lo and behold, your look of hesitance contorted into a disturbed one as you quickly throw an arm over your face to cover yourself.

a shameful moan escaped your lips as soon as he finally hits the spot that broke it all for you. it wasn't long before you turned into a hot mess under him. your chest rose and fell in a rapid rate as you whimpered and moaned under him.

malachi's free hand roughly removed the arm that covered your slutty expressions. you looked so lewd with his cock inside you, drool spilling from your lips and your eyes rolled back in undeniable pleasure.

now this was the sight he had been longing to see.

the pain from your wound was long gone as intense pleasure eventually replaced it. malachi quickened his pace when he noticed how your cock twitched, indicating that you were near your climax. he wasn't that cruel to deny you of orgasm in your last moments.

or maybe he was.

before the knot in your lower abdomen could come undone, malachi grabbed a hold of his gun and shot you straight in between your eyes, lodging a bullet through your skull and finally putting you to rest.

your warm blood stained his lower abdomen, trickling down to his cock that continued to drive into you who had long went limp under him, your eyes deprived of life.

he gave a few more thrusts before finally spilling his warm seed inside of your ass. his breaths were heavy as he kept his cock buried inside your now freezing and stiff body.

malachi soon pulled out of your corpse, fixing his trousers and standing back up. he sheated his gun back on its holster as he gazed down at your limp body.

he knew he was fucked up, but this was on another level.

he smiled smugly.

maybe you should've picked another job in the first place.

#male reader #yandere x male reader #x male reader #yandere male x male reader #yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere male #yandere #kiahndere

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stxrvel · 5 months ago

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the exile (1)

series summary. y/n knew that her whole life was outside the Palace, but it was hard to resist when the Crown Prince had been chasing her for as long as she could remember. doomed to an end where everything she loves has to be abandoned, y/n is forced to restart her life far from her mother, her village that saw her grow up and the man she loves. who would've thought that loving would come at such a high price…

pairing. prince!jungkook x f!reader

content. english is not my first lenguage! violence. royal themes. be-heading is still spoken of in this kingdom, nothing that will materialize. use of swords. someone is almost dying. a lot of anxiety.

a/n. ummm hello. i just wanted to leave this here. >:) hope you like it!! see you next time <3

series masterlist | bts masterlist | next

The fear you felt didn't allow you to raise your head. You could only watch the Queen's shoes, standing in front of you, her eyes carving your neck as if she wanted to break your body in two. Her cold and condescending words were echoing in your head, spinning around like an old spinning top that has no end. You knew this day might come someday, a voice in the back of your head was always reminding you that you were abusing borrowed time and that at some point the universe would put you where you deserved to be. Where you belonged.

There was no light at the end of the road. The beacon that guided you had lost its glow and you were wandering lost in the deep, cold ocean. You knew he could do nothing to help you. He hadn't even been allowed to come to the square. His punishment was going to be not being able to say goodbye, you knew this from the Queen's dry words, full of a forced rationality that spat from her mouth as the absolute truth. You didn't understand how anyone could be so cruel. How anyone could unleash tremendous fury against an act of kindness and innocence.

“Wangbi.”

A sob echoed through the crowd. The voice behind you caused you to shiver, the air rushing through your body aggravating your sensations to the point where you felt like you could freeze in the bright sunlight. You closed your eyes tightly, your hands clasped behind your back. She couldn't do that, what was she thinking?

“Wangbi,” she spoke again and your body almost moved forward out of instinct. The pressure you felt in your throat from holding back tears of helplessness was cutting off your breath, and you didn't know that the feeling of not being able to speak out of respect could be so suffocating. “Please, have mercy.”

You heard a struggle and a wail left your lips.

“Eommoni,” you raised your voice, lucky to be able to speak harshly and firmly. “Enough is enough. The Queen's will is greater than your wailing.”

Subtly, you averted your gaze from the queen's shoes and turned to observe your mother behind you. You saw first her eyes, filled with uncontainable tears unlike yours, an agonized expression adorning her face and you promptly felt that anguish, anger, guilt and reproach for not having been more careful as she told you. Then you saw the knights holding each of her arms, holding her in place as if she were a threat, as if she were capable of hurting the Queen for whatever incomprehensible reason.

“Don't make it worse,” you almost whispered, but the silence that dominated the square allowed your mother to understand and her face contracted in pain.

More sobs echoed in the square as you returned your gaze to the ground.

“No,” your mother cried, "Please have mercy on my daughter. I can't lose her- she's my only daughter!"

Many things were going through your head at the same time. The possibility that your mother would end up kneeling before the Queen like you was one of them. The mere thought caused you such a wave of panic that you could only pray that the Queen would have mercy on her. She was a mother too. Couldn't she think how that would make her feel if it were the other way around, and the crown prince was right where you were at that moment, and she was in the back screaming for her life and cornered as if she were a criminal just for wanting to save her son's life?

“I will pay for her mistakes, wangbi, take me instead. Please.”

The Queen's feet disappeared from your sight. The fear that began to run through your body made you shake your head unconsciously, fearful that your mother would be pushed to the center where you were. You looked up to see the Queen's face staring behind you, right where you knew your mother was struggling with the knights. Her face was empty, unable to hint at any thought through her expression. You knew the stories, you had heard some and witnessed others for yourself, and you knew she was not an accommodating, patient or even kind person.

The Queen was the most feared woman in the kingdom.

In that same square where you found yourself kneeling in the stinging sunlight, the same central place where the citizens' stalls were located, in the same place where they gathered every year to celebrate the Festival of Lights, the executions of more than 200 people had taken place in the last twenty years. There, where people gathered to shop, eat and celebrate, where children ran their dogs and peasants sold their potatoes, the Queen used it as an example of purgatory on earth. Every time an execution took place, it was a reminder that their lives did not belong to them, that nothing was really theirs, ours, but that the Palace held all the strength and fortitude to take whatever they wanted and whenever they wanted.

No one ever stood in this square without thinking that a stranger, a friend, a relative had been killed there. No one passed through the square without fearing that someday it might be their turn.

It was the constant reminder that we lived, not because freedom existed, but because the monarchs wished it so.

You had done so. You had passed the square enough times avoiding the right side of the left side of the square that was just in front of the palace down the mountain. That piece of the square was untouchable. All citizens avoided it like the plague. Some children told that, if you stepped beyond the invisible line, that line that was marked on the square because of the platform on which the Queen would put her guillotine or gallows, and which over time had become a floor space with a much lighter color than the rest of the floor of the square, you would be condemned and the Queen would end your life the next day. It was a cursed space.

And, at that moment, your knees were millimeters away from crossing the line between the filth of the square and the neatness of death.

The platform had not yet been set up. Knowing the Queen and understanding the background of your case, you knew she sought to give you a public humiliation. At least something that wouldn't allow her to remember you with respect, not even with compassion.

You followed her movements with your gaze until she stopped, not far from where you were. She raised her hand as a symbol of silence, and you knew your mother was making a great effort not to rant in front of her.

Your gaze was wary. You tried to catch any movement trying to decipher what the Queen was thinking as she looked at your mother. You wanted to understand what was going through her head so you could prepare yourself and know if you were going to have to offer up your already doomed life again to keep your mother from suffering the same wretched future.

“Is she your only daughter?”

“Yes,” your mother replied instantly, her voice riddled with hope only because the Queen had addressed her. It pained you to think that by that she thought she had earned it, that she had managed to save you from misfortune.

“And being your only daughter, couldn't you have educated her better to keep her filthy hands off what doesn't belong to her?” The Queen spat, her voice rising after each angrily spat word.

You watched your mother hold her breath and give you a look. You saw a flash of fury pass in front of her eyes and you shuddered at the possibility that she dared to defy you. You frowned at her, your head subtly shaking in refusal.

“I raised her as best I could, your majesty. My daughter is not a thief and not a bad person either.”

“The evidence showed otherwise,” the Queen countered with a raised head, almost daring your mother to speak further. “You yourself saw what they found inside your house, and you still have the gall to look me in the eye and beg for mercy?”

You held your breath for a few seconds. You knew the tone of voice the Queen had used, as well as all the people in the square. The only way the citizens had learned to understand, halfway, the Queen, was through her voice. Normally she doesn't say much, when she speaks it is in the calmest and most neutral tone possible. But now she was enraged. Angry. The way she raised her voice wasn't something you heard very often, but when you heard it it seemed like everyone around her ran away or hid as best they could.

That voice… It was the call of death.

“Wangbi, please,” your mother implored again. You watched her lower her head. Her legs lost the stability of her body which bent downward until the knights had to release her, and finally she knelt before the Queen. “I will pay the punishment. I will take her place.”

You turned to look at the Queen. And you could barely notice a glimmer of her expression, a gleam of satisfaction at seeing your mother beg for your life's salvation. It was disgusting. Repulsive. The shadow of a smile vanished almost instantly, and the unwavering expression of neutrality returned. Still, you could glimpse the anger on her face, and you knew she wasn't trying to hide it.

The Queen had her reasons for being angry. You knew it. Your mother knew it. The Queen was not wrong. Surely the decision was disproportionate, but acting out of insurmountable fear did not allow her to give way to more logical and just thinking.

Death was your punishment for the sin of loving.

And there could be no argument about it.

The Queen's dry laughter drew all eyes.

“I gave you a chance to stay in your home, and yet here you are, pleading for an indelible doom.”

The angry sound of your mother's voice sent chills down your spine:

“What kind of a mother would I be if I tried to let my daughter at the feet of her own death?”

The Queen embodied an eyebrow, you saw her shake her head from your place. The fingers of her hands intertwined in front of her body subtly moved the rings she wore that day, never taking her intense gaze from your mother's figure.

“It's the least he could do knowing what your daughter had done. What kind of parent would come for their child like a proud one when her actions shame their family?”

“What kind of parent would abandon his child?”

Your mother's cry was followed by silence.

The Queen took a step back, her face contracting in indignation. You closed your eyes tightly for a moment and inhaled trying to calm your heart, beating indiscriminately fast at the fear invading your mind.

It scared you even more that there was really nothing you could do. If you tried to get up, the knight to your left wasn't going to hesitate to swing his sword and slit your throat. If your mother got any closer to the Queen, there was going to be nothing left of her. You couldn't move, she couldn't move. If you kept it up, neither of you would ever leave the square.

The only thing you could do was to pray for a…

“Eommoni!”

… miracle.

You opened your eyes with a start. Your head frantically moved from side to side trying to search for the source of that voice, of his voice. Suddenly you felt that you really couldn't hold back the tears, that you couldn't be that strong, that you just didn't have the strength to make up your mind that this day must be the last day of your life. No. You couldn't. Not when he was there. Not when, surely, he had done everything he could to get there. Not when he had fought to reach you.

But…

What could you do to stop him?

“Eommoni!”

The angry exclamation filled the silence of the square again, and the people who had crowded around to watch began to murmur. That clearly did not go unnoticed by the Queen, who was looking at all the people in the square with narrowed eyes. You knew she knew they were going to start talking, asking questions.

The citizens looked at the Queen, looked at you, and then looked at the path the Crown Prince was coming down. You knew that the Queen knew it was only a matter of time before they put two and two together and came to a conclusion that would not please the monarch and the reputation of the Palace. You knew that her plan had fallen apart and was slipping through her fingers like water. She tried to hide it, but her eyes glittered uneasily.

“Juwon,” the Queen exclaimed turning to look at the knight on your left.

The man did not hesitate for a second to set off in the direction in which the Crown Prince was coming, taking after him other knights who had arrived that morning with the Queen.

And then, the Queen's gaze focused on you.

She began to take long strides towards where you stood and you felt so helpless and uneasy thinking that you could only stay kneeling looking at her, even if she planned to take your life herself with her own hands.

“Wangbi!” your mother cried out again.

The Queen barely gave her a glance, but with almost no time to reach you her path ended as she heard several swords being drawn at the same time.

She paused, looking around, and you inhaled sharply before looking back. It was as if the world had begun to go in slow motion.

Your mother had escaped from the knights guarding her and had moved closer to the Queen, much closer than she should have, and the men behind her had moved in to swing their swords and hold her in place. She wasn't hurt. She looked frightened, her eyes moving between your body and the halted figure of the Queen.

You let the air out.

“Jungkook,” the Queen hissed.

Then you saw it.

Behind the Queen, a few feet away, with more than five swords wielded in his direction, stood the Crown Prince. His own sword glinted in the sunlight raised against the knights. His face was bathed in fury, his brow furrowed and you could barely notice his tense jaw. He watched the Queen as if she were the only person in this square, and the Queen watched him back as if he were a gnat in her soup.

“Go to the Palace,” the Queen verbalized, her words empty of any emotion without taking her eyes off her son.

“Let them go first,” the Prince tried to bargain, but at this the Queen let out a wry laugh.

“What position do you think you have to try to question my decisions?”

The Prince, contrary to being intimidated at the look and tone of voice in which his mother addressed those words to him, smiled cynically at her.

“At the moment I think I have a very good position.”

His words generated more hubbub among the people who were already murmuring, and the Queen did not lose sight of that.

Nor did she fail to notice how the Prince gave you a fleeting glance before raising his sword again without really caring about the others that were pointed at him. You knew he was a bit oblivious, but at that moment he was playing with fire.

Jeon Jungkook was the eldest son and only male of the four children the Queen had had, therefore he was the heir to the throne. He usually used that as a bribe to his parents when he wanted to do something, threatening that, if they didn't let him do something, he would give up the throne to his uncle, with whom his parents were not very familiar. Most of the time he got his way, but at the time you feared that his mother would rather he resign, or they would get rid of him, than let him get away with it.

That threat did not escape the Prince's eyes and the Queen was aware of it.

“Jeon Jungkook, I command you to return to the Palace this very instant,” the Queen bellowed, her arm moving to point back the way she came.

Her words sounded more uncontrolled, anger seeping from every pore of her body.

“I will, as long as you come back that way with me,” her son shot back.

You noticed the Queen's clasped hands on either side of his body.

“This is not the time to argue about this.”

“Ah, now is not a good time? I agree with that. The time to discuss this was last night, when you locked me in the dungeon without even addressing me or giving me an explanation.”

“You have no say in this, Jungkook, you're not above me.”

The Prince's gaze drifted slightly after hearing his mother's words. You barely noticed how the hubbub of voices quieted down.

“Maybe I'm not,” he agreed serenely and you frowned at that.

“That's enough.”

Silence settled over the square.

The King was here.

“Wangbi,” he turned his gaze to his wife, who watched him with a flash of anger in her eyes. She knew what was coming and she didn't like it, “Why don't you escort your son back to the Palace? I see you have things to talk about."”

“Wang-”

“Now,” the King cut off the Queen's attempt at reasoning. “I will finish this trial.”

Stupefied, you watched her move without looking back. Her body passed right by her son, not venturing a glance at you, but her son was more focused on anything other than that.

His eyes inspected your figure, still kneeling on the ground. You felt the wails make their way down your throat, and you had to muster all your power to keep from becoming an uncontrollable mass of weeping in front of all the people watching them.

You weren't afraid when he finally had to turn around to leave, because you knew that if it wasn't safe for you he would be at your side in a couple of seconds.

Then, you were intrigued to know what the King would say.

“Inhabitants of Sapphire,” the King began, moving until he was almost in front of you, “I'm afraid there won't be any executions to watch today.”

At this, surprised exclamations were not long in coming, including yours.

“Nevertheless, knowing the Queen's reasons for calling this trial, there must be punishment for the one responsible for the crimes committed.”

Amidst the hubbub, you could hear your mother crying, but you were unable to turn to see her. Knowing that there really was a possibility other than the one that summoned you to this place, you remained static in your place for fear of spoiling everything.

“Y/N L/N,” the King spoke, your head moving to stare at him at the harshness in his voice, your body anxious with your heart on the verge of bursting. “As King of these lands, sovereign of their goods and wealth, final executioner of every crime committed against the crown, I declare today before the people and the square that saw the birth of our nation, that you will be condemned to exile with no chance of appeal.”

Your body leaned forward as you let out the air you were holding back. The mixture of the voices of the people behind you with all the thoughts that were going through your head was overwhelming you so much that you couldn't even understand what was happening.

Had… had the King forgiven you?

The look in Jungkook's eyes before he left suddenly made more sense. If what he said was true, then you couldn't really get an idea of how he was able to escape from the Palace dungeons and convince his father to save you from certain death. You moved your eyes to watch the monarch. The King was the unpredictable one of all those who made up the royal family. In this case, in your case, you had previously been certain that the execution had been a two-party decision.

Apparently, you were wrong.

“Let this decree endure in force until the day of my death.”

The King's gaze met yours. His face empty of emotion, like his wife's.

But you couldn't help the confused expression that adorned your face at his words. It was not against the law what he had ruled, the crimes of which you were accused could've different penalties depending on the harm that had been caused against the crown; however, it had been decades, almost centuries, since a King had decreed the end of a punishment with his death.

With his gaze on yours, he continued, “You have until midnight to leave the city. There will be knights at your house, in the carriage and the exit of the city watching to see that all goes neatly.”

His gaze refocused on the crowd in front of him.

“This trial is over.”

And without further ado, he turns on his heels in the direction of the palace.

#bts x reader #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts angst

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leo-muscle · 1 year ago

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Kings of the World: Europe's Protector

Dominic, for the most part, was what the gay community would consider average. He had some mass to him, though not much, and his junk was fairly average. He had light body hair and a short beard, though not enough to be considered an otter. Almost no one swiped him on any dating app, which did leave him feeling dejected. He was a top, though all of his few matches pegged him as a submissive bottom. Though, someday, he hoped that he would gain the strength he desired.

Alone in his apartment, Dominic was doomscrolling through Instagram, crying over pictures of happy men in love. It had been so long since his last hookup, let alone his last boyfriend, that he had become incredibly touch-starved. London's pool of gay men had been incredibly unkind to him.

KLUNK.

A single notification rang from Dominic's phone. A match! Dominic dove to his phone, and couldn't believe his eyes. An absolute stud of a man had decided to give Dominic his approval. His pecs and ass were perky and voluptuous, his dark skin accented his enormous muscles perfectly, and judging by his bulge, he was more hung than every other man Dominic had seen, combined. The crystal crown on his head, while a little tacky, only added to his allure. According to his profile, he was "King Leon."

That sure is a King of a man, all right. Dominic thought.

Soon, they began to chat.

King_Leon: Hey. I think you might have exactly what I'm looking for. Meet me at my place?

DomDom74: Absolutely! I'm on my way!

Dominic dashed to his car, and drove as fast as he could over to where King Leon said his address was. It was a tall apartment building, with an impressive view over Buckingham Palace.

King_Leon: Head to the Penthouse. I'll be waiting ;)

Not only is he immeasureably hot, but he's also rich? Dominic thought. This could not be going better.

Dominic sauntered up to the elevator, and hit the button for the Penthouse suite.

"Dom?" King Leon's Nigerian accent entered Dominic's ears like butter from the intercom. It was smoky and rhythmic, with a deep, rich melody that caused Dominic's cock to instantly harden.

"Y-yes?" Dominic stammered. He was already flustered, and he hadn't even met the man yet.

"I'm glad to see you could make it. I'll let you on up now." King Leon said.

Soon, the elevator opened into a lavish Penthouse suite, each room the size of Dominic's entire apartment. Relics and statues from every corner of the globe accented the space, though most were from Africa, where King Leon's throne resided.

King Leon himself was standing in the middle of the room, wearing nothing but a small towel. He was even hotter in person. His muscles, divine, his skin, glistening, his ass, superb, his incredible height and his enormous cock visible even through the towel.

"Dominic, it is so good to have you here." King Leon rumbled, his voice flowing over Dominic like a river, wearing down his inhibitions.

"S-same." Dominic stuttered. "You have to be the most beautiful man I have ever seen."

King Leon laughed. "Soon, you will be just as beautiful as I."

"What do you mean?" Dominic said.

King Leon smiled, and let the towel drop as he turned around, revealing his luscious, bouncy muscle ass.

"Why don't you come find out?" King Leon teased.

Salivating, Dominic ripped off his pants, and stuck his throbbing member into King Leon's hole. The sensation was unlike anything he had ever felt: King Leon's perfect ass seemed to be vibrating and massaging every square millimeter of his dick, creating pleasure unlike anything he had ever felt. Dominic's eyes rolled back into his skull as he lost himself in the pleasure, firing orgasm after orgasm into King Leon's ass, each one longer than the last. A gold fluid began to leak from King Leon's hole as the most orgasmic experience of Dominic's life finally came to a close.

As he removed his pulsing member from the King's hole, Dominic almost screamed. His cock was... different.

It had swollen up like a balloon, until it matched King Leon's size, inch for inch, a full foot in length and as thick as a beer bottle. His balls had turned into massive grapefruits swinging between his legs, churning with his own kingly fluids. Most surprising of all, his cock was pale, with a red tip, surrounded by a fiery orange bush. No longer was it a brown twig, but a mighty birchwood weapon, capable of slaying any ass.

"Wha... what?" Dominic asked.

"A king needs a weapon, does he not?" King Leon said.

"How? Why? Why did you change me?"

"I saw greatness in you, Dominic. You could be the protector of this whole continent, if you wished. A king, a warrior, a protector... the most powerful Dom in this land."

Dominic considered this. Power, prestige, strength... The choice was obvious.

"I'll do it. Where do I start?" Dominic answered.

"Only a moment of submission, for a lifetime of lordship. Impale yourself upon my sword, and drink of my fluids." King Leon said, his voice having a playful air to it.

King Leon sat down upon a wide loveseat, his enormous Black horsecock reaching far past his abs. His pecs throbbed, and his nipples called to Dominic, just begging to be sucked.

Trancelike, Dominic walked over to King Leon, and lowered himself onto his cock.

It was like paradise: There was no blockage, no pain, just pure pleasure His cock filled up Dominic perfectly, despite its egregious size. Dominic's mouth latched onto King Leon's perfect dark nipple as the King began to slowly thrust.

Soon, the King's fluids took effect. As King Leon pumped load after load of kingly fluid into Dominic, his muscles expanded. His biceps, wrapped around one of King Leon's enormous arms, suddenly blew up to match the guns they worshipped. His hands, once small and insignificant, became enormous mitts, digging and massaging King Leon's equally huge arms. His back and lats wrenched themselves apart, creating a sea of perfect ridges. His abs repeatedly clenched and unclenched, growing stronger each time, until the eight blocks that made up his core were as solid as stone. His legs, once skinny, became almighty pillars of strength as they expanded to well over the size of tree trunks. His feet did the same, becoming bigger and wider, to support the royal mass they carried.

The more fluid Leon pumped, the lighter Dominic's skin became, until it settled on a lightly-tanned cream color. His hair became a fiery red, his beard changing to match. His brow narrowed, and his jaw became square. His voice deepened, and took on an Irish accent as he started gyrating his ass to properly milk King Leon's dick.

"Yeh, you like that, don't you?" Dom said, in between chugs from King Leon's chest.

"Oh, I do... Daddy." King Leon said with a smirk. While he normally preferred to be the dominant one, for his fellow King, he would make a rare exception.

"My arse is going to milk your cock like you wouldn't believe." Dom said. With each slam of his ass on King Leon's mammoth dick, it bounced and expanded just a little more, until it became an enormous Irish booty, leaking an emerald fluid, which mixed with King Leon's golden fluid perfectly.

"Now, I want you to suck my pecs like your life depends on it." Dom ordered.

"Anything for you, Daddy." King Leon placed his soft, supple lips on Dom's left nipple, as Dom moaned with pleasure. His chest began to puff up, going from muscular, to voluptouous, to absolutely obscene. His massive muscle tits were just as large as King Leon's!

Soon, Dom wrapped his arms around King Leon, and tried to wrestle him to the floor. King Leon obliged, and pulled Dom close, pressing their sensitive muscle tits together, releasing a moan from both behemoths. Dom continued to grow in height until he matched King Leon while they rolled on top of each other, each man fighting for dominance. Dom pressed his face firmly against King Leon's, locking him in a passionate kiss. They wrestled and fought and loved for hours, until the pleasure finally became too much for the both of them, and they came from all orifices at once. King Dom's transformation had completed.

Both Kings laid there, exhausted. Soon, there would be more of them, and they could lead the world into a brighter age

#male tf #male transformation #race change #jock tf #irish tf #ass growth #butt growth #pec growth #Kings of the World

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mononijikayu · 10 months ago

Text

tears are getting sober – gojo satoru

With a heavy heart, Gojo Satoru began to speak, his words a balm for the wounds that still lingered within him. He told you about his life over the past decade, the trials and tribulations he had faced, and the moments of joy that had flickered amidst the darkness. He talks as though you were still here. As though you were still alive. He teases one moment and he laughs about a memory the next. You were never dead to him. Not for one second in these past ten years did he get used to talking about you in the past tense. He thinks his brain can’t ever process the thought. He could never understand it. And he has come to accept it, after all this time. Nothing about it would ever come to be the past. You will always be his present. You will always be his future. He did not doubt that one second.

GENRE: Hidden Inventory Arc - JJK 0, 2006/2007 - 2017;

WARNING/s: Angst, One Sided Romance, Pining, Grief, Mourning, Death, Depiction of Trauma, Depiction of Death, Depiction of Grief, Depiction of Blood, Depiction of Corpses, Depiction of Injury, Reminiscing;

masterlist

listen: tears are getting sober by victoria

note: i've been thinking about this for the past few days and i wrote this while on my online law class. this is the satoru pov of ghost of you!!! enjoy it!!! i hope you have a good day, i love you all!!!

HE THINKS LOVING SOMEONE IS A TOUGH JOB. As Satoru approached his twenty-eighth year, with the threshold of twenty-nine looming ever closer, he found himself grappling with the complexities of love and human connection. It wasn't that he didn't love others—of course he did. He was a human being, after all, with the same innate desires and needs as anyone else. Love was not just a luxury for him; it was a necessity, an essential part of his existence.

Yet, despite this fundamental longing for love and connection, Satoru couldn't shake the feeling of distance that seemed to separate him from those around him. Even in the company of close friends like Shoko and Yaga-sensei, he couldn't escape the sense of being an outsider, a solitary figure navigating a world that had grown increasingly unfamiliar.

He remembered a time when things had been different, when he had felt more human, more connected to those around him. There had been moments of genuine intimacy and camaraderie, moments when he had been able to express himself freely and without reservation. But as the years passed and the weight of responsibility bore down upon him, those moments grew fewer and farther between, slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.

Now, on the cusp of another year, Satoru couldn't help but wonder if he would ever find his way back to that sense of connection, that feeling of being truly human. It was a longing that gnawed at him, a yearning for something he feared he might never recapture. And yet, deep down, he held onto the hope that someday, somehow, he would once again find himself among those who understood him, who accepted him for who he truly was.

Because during that time, he had a choice.

Because at the time, he can see Suguru smile.

Because at the time, you were still smiling alive.

There was never a moment when Satoru didn't love you. It was an all-encompassing feeling that seemed to permeate every facet of his being, impossible to ignore or suppress. Even if he had tried, he knew deep down that his love for you would persist, unwavering and unyielding. It was the kind of love that consumed him entirely, the kind that defied reason and logic.

As he reflected on his feelings, Satoru couldn't help but marvel at the power of young love. It was a force unlike any other, capable of transforming even the most mundane moments into something extraordinary. Even now, as he stood on the precipice of adulthood, his thoughts inevitably drifted back to you, the center of his universe.

He vividly remembered the day he first laid eyes on you, a moment etched into his memory with startling clarity. It was a day like any other, until it wasn't. Everything changed the instant you walked into his life, your presence casting a vibrant spectrum of colors upon his once monochrome world.

The sight of you, adorned in your dark blue uniform with that bright yellow hoodie, was like a revelation to him. Suddenly, the world seemed to burst into bloom, vibrant and full of life. The delicate petals of chrysanthemums mirrored the rosy hue of your cheeks, while the golden rays of the sun felt warmer when filtered through your radiant smile.

In that moment, the confines of his existence melted away, replaced by a sense of boundless possibility and wonder. The four corners of the room no longer felt suffocating; instead, they expanded to accommodate the enormity of his newfound emotions.

From that day forward, you became his guiding light, his source of inspiration and joy. Every smile, every wave, every word exchanged between you was a testament to the profound connection you both shared. And as Satoru gazed upon you, he couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the color you had brought into his life, forever altering the course of his destiny.

The mission briefing room was abuzz with excitement as Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, and you gathered around the table, eagerly awaiting your first assignment as a team. Yaga-sensei had to work hard to stop the gossiping from all of you. The atmosphere crackled with anticipation, each of you eager to prove yourselves in the field. Much so, he and Suguru—who realized that they were polar opposites of the other, began to think of each other as the only rivals worth having. Satoru thinks he can one up the guy with the bangs. He could do it properly too.

As the mission details were laid out before you, Satoru couldn't help but steal glances in your direction, his heart racing with a mixture of nerves and excitement. You and Shoko were conversing about how best to provide support and defense while Suguru busied himself with asking Yaga–sensei about the best ways to conduct offense campaigns.

He had been looking forward to this moment ever since he had learned that you would be joining their team, and now that it was finally here, he found himself feeling more determined than ever to make a good impression.

With the mission parameters set, the four of you set out into the night, the cool breeze of autumn stirring the leaves as you made your way through the city streets. The mission itself went off without a hitch, each of you working together seamlessly to accomplish your objectives.

You and Suguru both gained new cursed creatures, which made you quite happy. You like having good friends in these creatures, you said. Somehow it reminded you of Pokemon. He didn’t say anything, he liked Digimon too. But he supposed, if you ask him one day—he’d watch Pokemon for you.

As you made your way back to Jujutsu High, all of you were too exhausted to come discuss any dinner plans. Shoko suggested you guys stop by a convenient store. This is the one of few times Satoru’s ever been to a convenient store.

Before, he had been far more confused than anything else, no one would expect the head of the Gojo Clan to know about the outer world beyond what he’s been told. But now that he has experienced it, he found his way around it. It felt like a comfort, he supposed, that he’s able to do this at all.

Satoru found himself beside you, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. Shoko was by the counter, pushing a fake ID with a grin on her face. Suguru was just behind her, his face unimpressed about her rule breaking in order to buy some cigarettes.

"Hey," Satoru said, his voice soft as he fell into step beside you. "Great job back there. You really held your own out there."

You returned his smile, feeling a sense of pride swell within you at his words. "Thanks, Gojo–kun," you replied, your voice warm with gratitude. "I couldn't have done it without your guidance."

Satoru's heart skipped a beat at your words, a rush of warmth flooding through him at the sight of your smile. “You know you don’t have to call me so formally. Aren’t we friends?”

You look up to him again, away from the sandwich section. You blink at him. “Hm?”

“You call Geto and Ieiri by their first names.”

“And?”

“Why not me?”

You blink again, and then you laugh at him. He could feel more warmth emit through his body. Your laughter was such a beautiful sound. Far more gorgeous than the temple bells he heard in all his life. You were so beautiful.

“You could just ask me, you know.” You replied to him, smiling at him. “If that’s what you like, Gojo–kun–”

“Satoru,”

“Satoru–kun,” You corrected yourself, eyeing his happy gaze. “Then you should call me by my name too, you know?”

His lips slowly quivered into a smile, his dark peering shades lowering to reveal his eyes. “You have yourself a deal!”

As you browse the aisles together, you both share your opinions about different types of food. You liked a lot of savory dishes, Satoru loved really sweet things — which you had in common, in a sense. But well, you preferred dark chocolate to his sweet milk choco. You liked matcha and coffee more than you liked choco and strawberry milk.

But you both expressed a good love for mochi ice cream. You told Satoru that you’ve had it since you were a kid and you’ve never looked back since. Satoru’s continually eaten it since he discovered it a couple of months ago.

You got everything you wanted by then, Satoru insisting he should pay for your basket even though you were arguing with him that you had enough money to cover your expenses. But that had become a bad idea because then Shoko had goaded him with ‘What about us, Satoru?’ followed by Suguru’s lips quivering in a Cheshire grin in the back. Satoru did not care. He thinks he could pay for all your meals for the rest of his life and he would be happy — because you pouted at him that way. And it was adorable.

Satoru couldn't help but feel a sense of nervous excitement building within him. As you all walked towards the train station, he started reaching for his own plastic bag as he kept up to your pace. He reached out to grab a box, offering it to you with a small smile. You looked at him as you both stopped for a moment, Shoko and Suguru lost in their conversation as they walked in front of you both.

"I thought you might like these," He said, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty. “I didn’t know which brand you liked best. But this is my favorite. Consider it a reward for a job well done."

Your orbs shone like stars. “You didn’t have to, Satoru–kun.”

“I bought this for you.” He tells her, tenderly. “You can enjoy it.”

You accepted the box slowly with a grateful smile, your eyes meeting him as you thanked him. In that moment, Satoru felt his heart swell with affection, the warmth of your smile sending a rush of happiness coursing through him. You opened the box and looked at him and grinned. You pull out one mochi container and give it to him. It was his turn to blink.

“It’s not fun to eat it alone.” You grinned wider, taking one and putting the box inside your plastic bag. You remove it from the container and start munching into the mochi. You looked at him encouragingly. “Go on, Satoru–kun!”

As the two of you made your way back to Jujutsu High, the taste of victory and the sweetness of mochi ice cream lingering on your lips, Satoru couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement for the future. And as he stole glances in your direction, he knew that this was only the beginning of something truly special.

Satoru sat alone in his room, a single mochi resting delicately between his fingers as he stared off into the distance. The room was quiet, save for the soft rustling of leaves outside his window and the rhythmic ticking of the clock on his desk. But in the silence, his thoughts were consumed by one thing and one thing only—you.

As he brought the mochi to his lips, his mind wandered to memories of you, your laughter echoing in his ears like a sweet melody. He remembered the way your eyes would light up with joy whenever you indulged in your favorite treat, the happiness radiating from you like a beacon of light in his life.

But now, as he savored the familiar taste of the mochi, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. The once sweet flavor seemed to have lost its luster, the simple pleasure of indulging in his favorite snack now tinged with a bitter aftertaste.

With a sigh, Satoru set the mochi aside, his appetite suddenly vanished as he found himself consumed by thoughts of you. He missed the warmth of your smile, the sound of your laughter, the way you would brighten up his darkest days with just a simple gesture or word.

Closing his eyes, Satoru allowed himself to bask in the memories of your time together, his heart heavy with longing. He missed you more than words could express, and in that moment, he realized just how much he craved your presence in his life.

As the minutes ticked by, Satoru remained lost in thought, his mind drifting back to the memories of you. And as he sat alone in his room, the taste of the mochi still lingering on his lips, he couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness gnawing at his heart—a longing for the sweetness of your presence that he feared he may never taste again.

As Satoru reflected on the passage of time, he couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia for the days gone by. It had been a decade since you left, yet in his heart, it felt as though it were just yesterday. Time may have marched on, but for him, it would always be 2007—a year etched into his memory like a precious gem.

In his mind's eye, he could still see you as clearly as if you were standing before him, your laughter echoing in his ears and your smile lighting up his world. Despite the years that had passed, he knew that a part of him would always be with you, forever frozen in that moment in time.

And he wasn't alone in his longing. Suguru, too, harbored a deep affection for you, his heartache mirroring Satoru's own. They had both loved you fiercely, with a passion that transcended time and distance. And even now, a decade later, the memories of you still lingered, a bittersweet reminder of what once was and what could have been.

As Satoru gazed out at the world beyond, he couldn't help but wonder if you ever thought of them, if you ever longed for the warmth of their embrace as much as they longed for yours. In his heart, he knew that some bonds were unbreakable, woven together by the threads of love and longing that refused to be severed by the passage of time.

And so, as the years stretched out before him, Satoru held onto the memories of you, cherishing them like precious treasures. For in his heart, he knew that no matter where life took him, a part of him would always belong to you, just as a part of you would always belong to him.

And just as Suguru cursed you back to life,

You left and cursed Satoru back to life too.

He would never love anyone like he loved you.

He lived, just as Suguru does, to remember you.

Because that’s all he could ever truly do.

HE WAS SURE YOU WERE THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE. As Satoru wrestled with his emotions, a tumultuous storm raged within him, tearing at the seams of his heart with every passing moment. He knew better than to say anything to you, for he believed that you deserved nothing but boundless happiness. Yet, a part of him couldn't help but wonder if you would ever find true happiness with him, knowing the burden of his past and the shadows that loomed over his future.

In his eyes, you were a free spirit, a radiant gem in a world filled with darkness and uncertainty. He couldn't bear the thought of seeing you trapped in the confines of his world, shackled by the political machinations of the clans and the dangers that lurked at every corner. Even if you were to reciprocate his feelings, he feared that you would be sacrificing too much of yourself in the process.

The specter of his father's untimely demise and his mother's constant struggles loomed large in Satoru's mind, a grim reminder of the dangers that surrounded him. He knew that he could protect you, that he was the strongest among them. But he couldn't shake the feeling that you deserved so much more—a life free from the shadows that haunted his own existence.

And so, Satoru resigned himself to loving you from afar, content to cherish you as a friend and companion. He found solace in the knowledge that he could still keep you in his life, even if it meant keeping his own feelings hidden deep within his heart. For him, your happiness was paramount, and if loving you from a distance was the price he had to pay, then so be it.

When you confided in him about your feelings for Suguru, Satoru felt no malice or jealousy in his heart. Instead, he embraced your words with a sense of understanding and acceptance, knowing that your happiness was all that truly mattered. And as he watched you walk away, his heart heavy with unspoken longing, he couldn't help but silently wish for your happiness, even if it meant sacrificing his own.

You four were sent on a mission again — not too much of a hassle, considering it was just a minor deity and no one was injured, which Shoko seemed pleased about. She and Suguru were getting the camp site’s benches ready, so you all could eat dinner together. It was rare to be in such places, so you all decided that this was an opportune moment to eat some of the extra packed meals you brought along.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the tranquil waters of the lake as you and Satoru sat together on the grassy bank, the gentle breeze ruffling your hair. It was a peaceful afternoon, the perfect setting for a heart-to-heart conversation.

As you gazed out at the shimmering water, a sense of nervousness fluttered in your chest, your thoughts consumed by the confession you had been holding onto for so long. Taking a deep breath, you turned to Satoru, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Satoru, there's something I need to tell you," you began, your voice hesitant as you searched for the right words. "I... I think I've fallen in love with Suguru."

Satoru's expression softened at your words, his eyes reflecting a mixture of surprise and understanding. He had suspected as much, yet hearing you say it out loud still came as a shock. But despite the pang of heartache that echoed in his chest, he knew that your happiness was paramount.

"Really?" Satoru replied, his voice gentle as he reached out to place a comforting hand on your shoulder. "That's wonderful news, you know? Suguru is a great guy, and I can see why you've fallen for him."

Your heart swelled with gratitude at Satoru's supportive words, a sense of relief washing over you as you realized that you had made the right decision in confiding in him. His encouragement gave you the strength you needed to finally take the next step in your journey.

"Yeah, he really is," you replied, a smile spreading across your face as you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. "I've been thinking about telling him how I feel, and I think today might be the day."

Satoru nodded in agreement, his eyes filled with genuine warmth as he squeezed your shoulder gently. "You should go for it," he encouraged, his voice filled with sincerity. "Life's too short to hold back your feelings. And who knows? Maybe Suguru feels the same way about you."

With Satoru's words of encouragement ringing in your ears, you felt a renewed sense of determination wash over you. Taking a deep breath, you stood up from the grassy bank, ready to seize the moment and finally confess your feelings to Suguru.

"Thanks, Satoru," you said, turning to face him with a grateful smile. "I couldn't have done this without you."

As you walked away, the weight of your confession lingered in the air, casting a shadow over Satoru's heart. He watched you go with a bittersweet smile, his own feelings swirling beneath the surface like a tempestuous sea. Every step you took towards Suguru felt like a dagger through his heart, each moment a painful reminder of what could have been.

But despite the ache in his chest, Satoru knew that he had to push his own feelings aside for the sake of your happiness. He had always been there for you, offering unwavering support and encouragement whenever you needed it. And now, as you embarked on this new chapter of your life, he couldn't bear to let his own pain stand in the way.

So he plastered on a smile, masking the turmoil within as he watched you disappear from view. Deep down, he longed to hold you back, to tell you how he truly felt. But he knew that now wasn't the time—not when your heart was set on someone else.

Instead, Satoru forced himself to focus on the positives, finding solace in the knowledge that you were pursuing your own happiness. He reminded himself that he had played a part in helping you find the courage to confess your feelings to Suguru, and for that, he felt a sense of pride.

But as he turned away from the lake, the ache in his heart remained, a constant reminder of the love he had kept hidden for so long. And though he knew that he would always cherish the memories of your time together, he couldn't help but wonder what could have been if he had been brave enough to confess his own feelings to you.

‘No,’ He thought to himself as he took a deep breath. ‘It’s better this way. There’s no one I trust more than him. Suguru would be good. It’s better this way.’

As Satoru grappled with his inner turmoil, he often sought solace in the mantra that he had no regrets. Yet, as he reflected on the choices he had made, a nagging sense of remorse crept into his heart. He couldn't shake the feeling that he should have told you the truth, should have confessed his feelings before it was too late.

In hindsight, he couldn't help but wonder how things might have been different if he had been brave enough to lay bare his heart to you. Perhaps you would still be alive, by his side, sharing in the joys and sorrows of life together. But now, as he looked back on the past, he knew that dwelling on such thoughts was futile.

It was too late for "what ifs" and regrets now. The past was set in stone, immutable and unchangeable. All he could do was carry the weight of his unspoken feelings and forge ahead, determined to honor your memory in the best way he knew how.

And so, despite the ache in his heart and the burden of his silent regrets, Satoru resolved to live each day to the fullest, cherishing the memories of your time together and carrying your spirit with him wherever he went. For in the end, he knew that dwelling on the past would only serve to hold him back from embracing the future that lay ahead.

You were too far for him to reach and too far for him to love.

You were like that when you were alive and now even in death.

But he thinks he will never love anyone else as he had loved you.

In this life and in the next and the other one after that, it’s only you.

In that next life, he hopes that he could finally tell you everything.

HE MEMORIZED EVERY MOMENT HE HAD WITH YOU. As Satoru's mind replayed the harrowing scene of finding you that fateful day, the vivid imagery seared into his memory with agonizing clarity. Your blood, a stark contrast against the dark cavern walls, painted a gruesome picture of the tragedy that had unfolded. It coated the steep stairs, pooling around your lifeless form, a haunting testament to the violence that had taken place.

As Satoru stood frozen amidst the horror of the scene before him, the weight of the moment bore down upon him like a suffocating blanket, threatening to crush him beneath its unbearable heaviness. The sight and smell of your blood, mingled with Riko's, assaulted his senses, leaving him reeling with a nauseating mixture of shock and despair.

Your blood, brighter than any ruby stone he had ever seen, stained the ground beneath him, a vivid reminder of the tragedy that had unfolded in the depths of the cavern. It coated his shoes, a tangible testament to the violence that had torn through your lives with merciless force.

But amidst the horror, there was a poignant sense of sacrifice and bravery that lingered in the air. You clung to Riko with every last bit of strength and warmth you possessed, a selfless act of protection that spoke volumes of your innate goodness. Satoru had always known you to be a good person, perhaps too good for the cruel and unforgiving world of Jujutsu sorcery. He had feared for your safety, knowing that your tender heart could easily become a target in a world devoid of mercy.

The realization that you had died protecting another, that you had given your life to save someone else, sent a shiver down Satoru's spine. Died. Lived. The words echoed in his mind, their meaning lost in the unfathomable depths of grief and disbelief. They were both past tense, both irrevocably done, leaving him grappling with the unbearable finality of your loss.

In that moment, Satoru felt the overwhelming urge to scream, to lash out against the cruel injustice of it all. But as he stood frozen in place, his body trembling with suppressed emotion, he knew that there was nothing he could do to change what had happened. All he could do was bear witness to the devastating aftermath of your sacrifice, haunted by the knowledge that he had lost you forever.

For Satoru, who had always known himself to be the honored one, a god among men, the scene before him was a brutal awakening. Despite his divinity, he stood immobilized, his mind unable to process the enormity of the loss before him. You lay cold and lifeless, your once bright eyes now devoid of the light that had captivated him so.

As he knelt beside you, his heart heavy with grief, Satoru felt the weight of his own mortality pressing down upon him. In that moment, he shed the facade of godhood, allowing himself to embrace the raw humanity of his emotions. Tears flowed freely from his eyes as he mourned the loss of everything good in his life, stolen from him in the blink of an eye.

And as he grieved over your lifeless form, Satoru realized the bitter truth that even his godlike powers were powerless to bring you back from the brink of death. In that moment of profound sorrow, he was just a man, left to mourn the loss of the one he had loved so dearly, forever haunted by the knowledge that he could never bring you back to life.

As the days passed and the reality of your absence settled in, Satoru couldn't help but notice the profound impact your death had on Suguru. It was as if a darkness had descended upon his once bright and vibrant friend, twisting him into something unrecognizable. Satoru watched in horror as Suguru's grief morphed into madness, consuming him with a relentless fury that knew no bounds.

It was Suguru who had led the charge to burn the village to the ground, a devastating act of vengeance fueled by the pain of losing you. And as the flames engulfed the once peaceful streets, Satoru felt a sense of helplessness wash over him, knowing that there was nothing he could do to stop the chaos and destruction that Suguru had unleashed.

But perhaps the most haunting moment came when Suguru turned to him, eyes burning with a fierce intensity, and posed a question that would haunt Satoru for years to come. "Are you the strongest because you're Gojo Satoru?" Suguru's voice was like a whisper in the darkness, his words laden with a weight that Satoru could hardly bear. "Or are you Gojo Satoru because you're the strongest?"

It was a question that cut to the core of his identity, forcing Satoru to confront the very essence of who he was. And as he grappled with the weight of Suguru's words, a sense of panic began to claw its way up from the depths of his soul.

In the solitude of his bedroom, Satoru was overcome by a wave of overwhelming emotion, his chest tightening with each labored breath as tears streamed down his face. He cried out for you, his voice choked with anguish and longing, as he reached out for the comfort that could never be found.

In that moment of profound despair, Satoru realized just how deeply he had loved you, and how your absence had left a void in his heart that could never be filled. And as he lay there, trembling and broken, he knew that he would spend the rest of his days haunted by the memory of your loss, forever yearning for the one he could never have again.

The weight of his grief was like an anchor, dragging Satoru down into the depths of despair. With each passing day, the pain of your absence grew more unbearable, a constant reminder of all that he had lost. The thought of leaving to find you crossed his mind more than once, a desperate attempt to escape the suffocating grip of his sorrow. But every time he entertained the idea, he was met with the haunting memory of your eyes, filled with judgment, disapproval, and above all, hurt.

In those moments, Satoru realized that he could never bear to be the cause of your pain. The mere thought of seeing the disappointment in your gaze was enough to send a shiver down his spine, a stark reminder of the love and compassion that had always flowed between you. He couldn't bear to imagine you grieving for him, carrying the burden of his loss on your shoulders.

No, Satoru knew that he couldn't allow himself to wallow in self-pity and despair, not when your memory was still so fresh in his mind. He owed it to you to honor your legacy, to live his life in a way that would make you proud. Despite the overwhelming grief that threatened to consume him, he resolved to carry on, to strive for nothing less than your happiness.

For in the end, that was all that truly mattered to him—to see you smiling, to hear your laughter, to know that you were safe and content. And so, with renewed determination, Satoru vowed to carry your memory with him always, a guiding light in the darkness of his grief.

And so as those tears dried each and every day.

Your picture was tucked away in his inner pockets.

He thinks he had to live on, so that you could live on.

He thinks that he stays alive for you, no matter what.

SATORU THINKS HE REMEMBERS YOU LIKE THIS. On that rare day off, when the usual hustle and bustle of Jujutsu missions seemed to fade into the background, you and Satoru found yourselves with an unexpected opportunity to spend time together. With Suguru and Shoko occupied elsewhere and Haibara and Nanami tied up with their own commitments, it was just the two of you left to fend for yourselves.

As you pleaded with Satoru to accompany you on a day of exploration, he initially feigned reluctance, claiming he had other things to attend to. But your persistence wore down his defenses, and soon enough, he found himself agreeing to join you on your adventure.

Despite his protests, Satoru couldn't deny the excitement that bubbled within him at the prospect of spending the day with you. Your infectious enthusiasm and boundless energy were like magnets, drawing him irresistibly towards you.

Dressed in vibrant pastel hues that seemed to complement your radiant personality, you looked utterly captivating in Satoru's eyes. He couldn't help but feel his heart skip a beat at the sight of you, a rush of warmth flooding his chest as he marveled at your beauty.

As you set out together, exploring the nooks and crannies of the world outside the confines of the Jujutsu world, Satoru found himself unable to tear his gaze away from you. Every laugh, every smile, every twinkle in your eye seemed to etch itself into his memory, imprinting itself upon his heart in indelible ink.

Despite the uncertainty and chaos that often defined their lives as Jujutsu sorcerers, in that moment, everything seemed perfect. It was just the two of them, lost in the magic of the day, reveling in each other's company and the simple joy of being alive. And as Satoru watched you, he couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude for the precious moments they shared together, and the gift of your presence in his life.

As you and Satoru ventured deeper into the botanical garden, the serenity of the surroundings enveloped you like a comforting embrace. Each step you took seemed to lead you further away from the chaos of the world outside, immersing you in a tranquil oasis of greenery and blossoms.

The air was redolent with the delicate fragrance of flowers in full bloom, their perfumed scents mingling together to create a symphony of olfactory delight. Every inhalation fills your lungs with the sweet perfume of roses, lilies, and jasmine, transporting you to a realm of pure sensory bliss.

Sunlight filtered through the lush canopy overhead, casting dappled patterns of light and shadow upon the verdant foliage below. The gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze provided a soothing soundtrack to your leisurely stroll, accompanied by the occasional chirp of a distant bird or the soft hum of buzzing insects.

As you meandered along the winding paths, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and wonder at the beauty that surrounded you. Vibrant bursts of color greeted your eyes at every turn, as though nature itself were putting on a dazzling display just for you.

You reached out to touch the velvety petals of a blooming rose, marveling at the delicate intricacy of its design. Satoru watched you with a fond smile, his own eyes alight with appreciation for the natural splendor that surrounded you.

Together, you continued to explore the botanical garden, each moment filled with a sense of peace and tranquility that seemed to wash away the cares of the world. In this enchanted sanctuary, time seemed to stand still, allowing you to savor every precious moment spent in each other's company amidst the beauty of nature.

As you strolled hand in hand, Satoru couldn't help but notice the way your eyes lit up with wonder at the sight of each new flower you encountered. He found himself captivated by the joy reflected in your expression, a stark contrast to the darkness that often clouded his own thoughts.

At one point, you paused in front of a bed of sunflowers, your favorite flowers, and exclaimed in delight at their cheerful appearance. Satoru watched you with a fond smile, taking in the way the golden petals seemed to dance in the gentle breeze, illuminated by the warm rays of the sun.

"What is it about sunflowers that you love so much?" he asked, genuinely curious to hear your thoughts. He admired the way your face lit up as you spoke about the flowers, your passion and enthusiasm shining through with every word.

You turned to him, a soft smile playing on your lips as you explained, "Sunflowers always remind me of hope and resilience. No matter how dark things may seem, they always find a way to turn towards the sun, seeking out its warmth and light. I find that incredibly inspiring."

Satoru listened intently, his heart swelling with warmth at the sincerity of your words. In that moment, surrounded by the beauty of the botanical garden and the company of someone he cherished deeply, he couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over him.

As you continued your leisurely stroll through the garden, Satoru found himself feeling grateful for the simple moments of joy that you brought into his life. In your presence, he felt a glimmer of hope and optimism, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was still beauty to be found in the world. And for that, he was truly grateful.

In those ten years, not a day had gone by without Gojo Satoru thinking of you, longing for the warmth of your smile and the gentle touch of your hand. Your absence weighed heavily on his soul, a constant reminder of the void that had been left behind when you departed from this world.

As he stood before your grave, surrounded by a sea of sunflowers swaying in the breeze, Satoru felt a wave of bittersweet nostalgia wash over him. The vibrant blooms seemed to echo the radiant spirit you had embodied in life, their golden petals a testament to the joy and beauty you had brought into his world.

With trembling fingers, Satoru traced the letters of your name etched into the stone, each stroke a silent prayer for your peace and happiness in the afterlife. Though he couldn't bring himself to admit it, a part of him still clung to the hope that somehow, someway, you were still out there, watching over him from afar.

But deep down, Satoru knew the truth. You were gone, forever beyond his reach, and no amount of longing or regret could change that fact. And so, with a heavy heart, he bowed his head in silent reverence, offering up a silent vow to honor your memory for as long as he lived.

In that moment, amidst the sunflowers and the gentle rustle of leaves, Gojo Satoru found solace in the quiet beauty of your final resting place. And as he stood there, lost in his memories. Memories that were dried and gone, leaves that had seen autumn over and over. Memories that had gotten him through the coldest whispers of winter and frostbite.

As Satoru knelt before your grave, he couldn't shake the haunting realization that your soul was bound to this earth, tethered to Suguru by an unbreakable bond of love and guilt. He had messaged Suguru, informing him of your final resting place near Gojo Manor, but he knew deep down that Suguru wouldn't visit you. Not out of lack of care, but out of overwhelming guilt and remorse for the role he played in your tragic demise.

Suguru had loved you too much to let you go, and in his desperation to protect you, he had unwittingly sealed your fate. Your body lay here, beneath the soft earth and sunflower blooms, but your soul was intertwined with Suguru's, trapped in a perpetual cycle of longing and regret. He liked to believe that you split your soul, that somehow you gave him a part of you. To feel that he would not truly be alone. But he knew better than that. He was deluding himself. Still, he did not care. He promised to take care of you. And he would. He’d always take care of you, as he had these past ten years. As he would all his life.

As Satoru gazed upon your grave, a sense of profound sadness washed over him, mingling with the guilt and remorse that weighed heavily on his own heart. He had failed to protect you, failed to keep you safe from harm, and now he was left to mourn your loss in silence. No one truly could love you like he and Suguru had. No one knows this pain other than his best friend.

"Hey there," he began softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's been a while, hasn't it? Ten years... feels like a lifetime."

He thinks his brain can’t ever process the thought. He could never understand it. And he has come to accept it, after all this time. Nothing about it would ever come to be the past. You will always be his present. You will always be his future. He did not doubt that one second.

"I've been doing my best to honor your memory," he confessed, his voice tinged with regret. "But it's never easy, you know? Sometimes, it feels like I'm just going through the motions, pretending that everything's okay when it's not."

As he spoke, Satoru's hand reached up to his silk bandages, lifting it away to reveal the vibrant blue eyes that had long been hidden from the world. You have loved his eyes at one point. You told him how they remind you of the blue sky in summer. Yet now that you were gone, he couldn't find it in his heart to let the world witness them again.

For a moment, he allowed himself to be vulnerable, to let his guard down and show you the depths of his pain. You were the one person, besides Suguru, that saw every facet of him. Perhaps you will always the the person left in this world, even when you weren't here anymore, that will see such side of him. You were the person he could only ever be so truthful to.

"I miss you," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "Every day, in every way, I miss you. And I wish... I wish I could turn back time, change the course of fate, and bring you back to me. But I know that's not possible."

With a heavy sigh, Satoru replaced his blindfold, shielding his eyes once more from the world. But as he rose to his feet and prepared to leave, a sense of peace settled over him. Though you were gone, your memory would live on in his heart forever, a beacon of light in the darkness that threatened to consume him.

"Rest well, my dear," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your headstone. "I'll always be here, watching over you. And I promise... I'll never forget you."

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yynumaki · 1 year ago

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Happy Ever After

Sum: After you got horribly injured on a mission with a loose special grade curse, Geto reaches his breaking point

Tw: Fluff¿ idk (part 1 would be angst)

Part 1 Part 2

Nanako and Mimiko are now standing on both sides of him.

"Is that Y/n, Geto-sama?" Mimiko asked timidly, "The one you keep on telling us about?"

"Why yes my dear" he answered with a smile, "Beautiful isn't she?"

The three of them were watching you from the edge of your wall like windows from your newly opened cafe. The place was extremely packed since it was only recently opened, and people claimed that your cafe had a 'home-like-vibe' to it.

Ever since Suguru's departure, you couldn't bare it in jujutsu high.

You tried, really really tried to keep fighting, for your friends and for yourself, but you failed.

Unlike Satoru, you couldn't keep on that track without Suguru, and even though you wanted to be there for Gojo, you couldn't be in that place any longer. Not when everything reminded you of him.

You decided to leave.

With the savings you had, you decided to live a normal life, a life in which you once planned with Suguru; but instead of living on a peaceful and quiet province, you knew that you still needed to save some more to be able to live comfortably there someday, still holding on to some hope that he'd come back to you.

You decided to, instead, build a small business and build a cafe in the streets of Japan, as well as renting out an apartment above it.

There, you've slowly built a life for yourself, not forgetting about your friends of course.

You gave Satoru a spare key for your apartment, telling him that hes welcomed anytime, and that your home is also his.

You knew Satoru took a bigger hit than you at Sugurus departure, he is his best friend after all; though maybe 'brother' is a better fit.

You might not know Satoru as much as Geto does, but you do come fairly close, knowing how much pressure hes in with having the title of the 'strongest', and no one really checking up on him thinking that he must always be ok.

Now you took it upon yourself to be there for him, to know that even with his brother leaving, as well as Nanami, his lover, that you were still there, and Satoru took that greatfuly, claiming that you were his sister in-law, and the both of you were family.

"One day" Suguru spoke, "One day the four of us would leave this wreched place, live a life as a family, happy and peaceful, once we finish our plan, and I make this world safer for my three girls"

He held the girls hands tighter, eyes never leaving your form as you smiled at the monkeys you were serving.

"The four of us?" Nanako asked, "Does that mean she'd be our mom one day?" Eyes shining brightly, matching the smile growing on her lips.

"Do you think she'd even accept us?" Asked Mimiko

"Of course she'll accept you" Geto answered, "Shes the most kind hearted person I know, and on top of that, I know she'll love you both"

Geto knelt infront of the two girls reaching their height as he patted their heads. He handed them some money telling them to buy what ever they wish on your cafe for them to be able to talk to you, making them promise to not mention that they know him.

Since the lunch rush was finally dying down, you were able to accommodate them soon enough.

Two little girls came up to you requesting the most sugary pastry you sold as well as two mugs of hot chocolate.

Amused by the two, you three fell into easy conversation.

You couldn't stop smiling at the girls as they spoke to you with such adoration and passion, asking you so many things about yourself and them telling you stories and things about them aswell.

You didn't know why, but after a long day, the two girls sitting on the counter infront of you telling you how they lost their first tooth as you wiped down the counter, lifted a bit of weight off your shoulders.

The sight itself melted Getos heart, seeing how you've already connected with Nanako and Mimiko after meeting them for the first time.

He couldn't wait to be able to give the three of you in his arms, happy and complete.

So sorry abt this, this was EXTREMELY rushed, (wrote it in lile 10 mins maybe)

#getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #jjk geto #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru #geto x reader x gojo #jujutsu geto #suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #jjk suguru

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wuxian-vs-wangji · 3 months ago

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Love Sky Excerpt: Sky and Prapai's First Time Together as a Couple

** Just be aware: Sky is occasionally referred to by his Thai name, Naphon.

Love Sky Excerpt: Sky and Prapai's First Time Together as a Couple

“I’m not worth doing all this for. You can give up now.”

“No, and you are worth more than you think. Just letting you know, I’m highly expensive; that means you are even more expensive.”

This is another time that the kid bites his lower lip like he’s lost for words, and then he asks straightforwardly, “When will you get bored of me?”

Prapai turns to look at his face, then he sees the usually cold kid staring back with confusion in his eyes. He walks over and touches the other one’s cheek gently, feeling the softness that makes him want to rub his own cheek against it. He likes that Sky doesn’t turn away this time; the kid is probably used to his touch by now.

Then he answers just as straightforwardly, “Do you want the truth, or sweet talk?”

“Have I ever asked for sweet talk from you?”

The man cracks a laugh. He is also attracted to Sky’s honesty.

“Okay, the truth then. I don’t know, Sky. Unless the time comes, I wouldn’t know.” He’s fair enough to be honest too. “But right now, at this moment, I am not bored. I especially have fun spending time with you. Even when my brother was sick, I never took care of him at all. That’s how highly I prioritize you.”

“But you will get bored someday,” Sky lets out. The listener’s smile fades away as if he catches something in the words.

“What are you afraid of?”

“...”

The kid shuts himself up, then looks the other way, but Prapai pulls his cheek back gently.

He guessed it right, this kid must have run into something major that caused big trust issues. Cases like this are hard, but he’s prepared to take that hardship, unlike his behavior before. Especially when he sees the confusion in those eyes- he wants to get rid of it. When he sees Sky’s fear, he wants to hold him tight and comfort him.

“It’s alright, kiddo.”

I’ll never leave you.

Suddenly, one sentence pops up in his head. The man frowns and almost falls because of it.

Pai, how much do you like this kid?

But the big giant doesn’t have time to consider the flashing feeling, because the kid on the bed pulls his hand off, and does something that shocks even Prapai.

The kid quickly takes his tank top off.

“Okay, I give in.”

Not only that, he even tries to pull his shorts off, but Prapai grabs both his hands.

“Hey! Wait, wait. What does that mean?!” when he focuses, he asks in a deeper voice, holding a tight grip to the wrists. Sky looks up to exchange stares, and he cannot read through those doe eyes, he can only hear the boy’s serious voice.

“‘I give in’ means I give in. I’m not stopping you now.”

“Wait, Sky. I’m not doing all this just because I want to have sex with you. Okay, okay, don’t give me those eyes. It’s true that it was my initial thought, but not anymore. I came here because I’ve missed you. If you want to return the favor, then small kisses would do. No, I’ll taste your whole body. Ah! I’m making it worse. But I don’t just want your body, I just…”

Grab!

“Humm!” Prapai rants unlike his usual self, because the more he tries to correct himself, the worse it looks, so he keeps on going. But the kid doesn’t want to hear more. Sky pushes himself up and presses his lips to Prapai’s the way he wanted, and not just one single kiss, but he crushes the lips so hard that even the confident man is losing his way.

Suddenly, Prapai wraps his arms around the soft waist, or else someone might doubt that he’s experienced. The warm lips also respond to the soft tongue that’s playing with his lips in the most adorable way. He sucks it hard and tastes those beautiful lips, and then he goes back inside the mouth. The touch of intertwining tongues almost makes two become one-the kind of touch that makes Sky moan in his throat and grab the back of Prapai’s shirt tight.

Prapai backs away when he is satisfied, looking the other one in the eye, and then he hears something that sets him on fire.

“Can you shut up and just fuck me already?”

Thud!

Who can stay cool in a situation like this?!

So, the tall man pushes Sky onto the newly changed sheets and straddles over him masterfully. The eyes that mostly look like those of a playboy are now filled with wildfire; they’re hot, intimidating, and full of desire. Especially after seeing the consensual face and challenging tone from someone he’s been wanting for four months, there’s nothing holding him back.

“You sure?” The one who’s supposed to be going in like a hungry tiger still asks in a deep voice. The one on the bed reaches over to touch his face.

“Do you not want to?”

At that moment, Prapai smiles viciously. He brushes his fingers from the kid’s shoulder to the chest, watching him get goosebumps. The kid tries to keep a straight face while staring back. Then Prapai bends over to kiss those lips.

“Yes, I do.” Prapai presses his lips on the other one’s cheek, and then he moves to the back of his ear and sucks it a little, making the one under him flinch. Then he says,

“But I will take your body and your heart.”

“I’m not…”

“Shhh.” Before the kid can disagree, Prapai puts his finger onto the lips. He stares at those lips, gently rubs them, then he pulls the lower lip down and sees a little smirk. His eyes shine as he licks his lips and kisses Sky once more.

It’s a soft kiss, but the heat increases every second. The sound of saliva echoes throughout the whole room.

“Ah… ah… um…”

Prapai lets Sky catch some breath while he takes advantage of the corner of his neck as much as he wants. He presses a huge kiss and sucks that skin until he feels the one under move and tremble, confirming his thought that Sky’s body is incredibly sensitive.

“Ummm!” Sky turns his face the other way when he drags his tongue to the bridge of the shoulder, while both hands are touching all over the warm body- the side, the waist, and his butt that feels good in Pai’s hands. His mouth also does an excellent job at one of the nipples, just a slight touch but…

Gasp!

The kid shudders, making the big one smile.

“Do you like it when I do this? Phew!” he blows the warm breath at a nipple, making it harden. He sucks it more until Sky’s back arches as he grips his hair tight. Prapai uses another hand to rub the other nipple softly, while Sky loses it even more.

“Are you just… going to play… with my nipples?” Sky asks while breathing hard, making the other one laugh.

“I’ll play with this too.”

Grab!

“Hmm!”

“Ah, it’s wet already.” Prapai touches the lower part of Sky, looking down to see his shorts with a wet spot. The sharp eyes are even brighter when he sees the cute boy covering up his face with one hand.

“Can you not talk so much?”

“Have you not been jerking off at all?” Instead of staying silent like Sky suggested, Prapai hears his raspy voice whispering back. He pulls the intimate part out of Sky’s shorts and holds onto it, then he starts rubbing against it. That’s all it takes for the other one to grab Prapai’s hair even harder. His face that is partly hidden under one hand flickers in a spasm.

“What do you say? Have you not missed me and relieved yourself sometimes?”

Other than the nipples, he senses Sky’s ears are also sensitive.

“D-don’t play with my ears.” The more Sky tries to stop him, the more fuel he adds to the fire. Then Prapai sucks the kid’s soft ear harder, not allowing him to turn away. At the same time, he strokes the sensitive part in his hand faster as he listens to the restless breathing of the kid who’s trying not to moan.

“Come on, moan for me.”

“Hmmm. Psy… cho…”

“Yeah, I’m a psycho.”

“Ahhh!!!”

Prapai takes the insult happily. The sweat covers his whole back. The heat rushes to his lower part, but he still puts pressure onto the intimate part in his hand. He stares at the kid who’s widening his eyes, moaning uncontrollably, and moving his hips closer without shame. Showing a pleasant face, Sky now uses both hands to cover his face as his body shivers many times like he’s at his limit.

Grab!

“Ah! Pai, le… let go.”

Suddenly, the tall man grabs both of Sky’s hands and puts them above the kid’s head, pressing them down on the pillow. He sees the red face and blurry eyes full of pleasure. The swollen red lips shudder. He can’t help but lick the side of the boy’s neck and his Adam’s apple, and that makes Sky moan hoarsely, while another hand is still rubbing hard.

Sky is almost there, and he wants to see the happy face that results from his hand.

“...more…”

“What?” Prapai pulls back from his neck to see the shaking lips, and he almost explodes into pieces when the other one replies.

“Hard… do me harder.”

God damn! Where did you learn to seduce?

Thrust! Thrust! Thrust!

“Ah! Ah! Hmmm… No… No… Hmm!”

Prapai intended to tease a little more, but he instead gives it harder and more frequent strokes while his sharp eyes stare into the face that normally looks cold but is now filled with emotion- with the teary eyes, the face covered with sweat, and even a moan when Sky lets out the white fluid all over his hand.

The one under him lies breathing heavily, while the one on top is fighting with his thoughts.

Go ahead, Pai. Ditch the pants, dive in, show possession over this body… But I want more than just this body.

Two voices are fighting, and he mutters in a groaning tone.

“The bathroom!”

Grab!

Before the tall man leaves as he wishes, Sky grabs his shirt and asks a question through his eyes.

“Why?”

“Because I want you to trust me that I don’t just want your body,” Prapai replies calmly, while his lower part is about to explode. Especially when there’s someone lying in sweat in his own fluid, it turns him on even more. But instead of thanking him, the kid holds his shirt even tighter and uses the other hand to take his pants off.

Grab!

“Hmm.” This time, even though he’s already made a choice not to do it today, he has to swallow it down when the boy turns to the headboard and places his hands on the sheets. And apologies to you, the way the kid arches his butt up allows him to see what he wants to see- the beautiful bum and a soft, tight hole.

“Sky,” Prapai calls him as a warning, but the kid who anyone would have thought was innocent reaches over to open a drawer, and that position lets him see even more!

Calm down, little Pai. It’s not helping when you are the size of a giant right now!

Not long after, a box of condoms is thrown on the bed, followed by lube, Sky doesn’t hesitate to pour the liquid into his hand and reaches behind, inserting his fingers slowly but masterfully into the hole.

Everything happens in a few seconds, but it tortures the watcher for eternity!

“Fuck!”

Prapai suddenly swears. He grabs the lube and pours it into his hand. His initial plan is out the window as he removes Sky’s fingers and inserts his instead, feeling the touch that tightens over his fingers so much that he wants to put something else in instead.

“Hmmmm.”

The lean body grabs the headboard, arching his body to prepare and moaning in willingness.

It’s wet, hot, and tight inside. Prapai moves his fingers faster and listens to the moan that echoes louder as much as he wants the other one.

“Pai, put it in.”

God damn it!

Squish!

“Ugh, ah. Ahahhh. Ahh!!!”

There’s no need to repeat it, Prapai puts a condom on his son which has enlarged quickly, and then he dives right into the softness inside the kid who’s screaming while taking it in. Though he used all his patience to hold it inside and let the other one adjust- let Sky get used to it- the one under starts moving his hips and pushes him deeper seductively.

“It doesn’t hurt… put it in…”

“Don’t blame me if you can’t walk tomorrow!!”

The listener gives a hard kiss on the kid’s neck and bites down. He roars over the warm skin, then he dives inside the heat. It doesn’t take long for the lean body to jerk every time he reaches the spot.

Grab!

“Hmmmm. Deep. Pai, it’s so deep!”

Prapai puts one arm on Sky’s shoulders and brings the kid into his hug. Now the kid has only two knees against the sheets. He grabs Prapai’s arms to hold his body, then turns his red face to kiss the man.

See? How can Prapai tolerate this?

The tall man thrusts even more violently, harder. He kisses the bruises on the kid’s neck and touches the nipples while rubbing Sky’s intimate part with another hand.

“Pai… Hard. Harder.”

Last time, he almost went crazy to death. This time, when he hears his name, he feels like he’s in paradise.

The tall man pushes Sky to make him lay the front part of his body against the bed, but he doesn’t do it right away. He grabs Sky’s ankles and flips the boy to face him while pulling his hips closer with another hand. He can hear a moan that sounds like a cry. Sky looks up at the tall man who slicks his wet hair, showing the madness in his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I can’t hold back now.”

As soon as he says it, Naphon could almost scream with the overwhelming sense of pleasure when the tall man shoves in again- this time so roughly that he can hear the bed move in sync with the rhythm of their bodies clapping against each other in the most indecent way- the wettest and craziest friction. All Sky can do now is to hold onto the other one’s neck, wrap his legs around the waist, and move along.

Sky can no longer take it.

“Pai. Please… Please!” he whispers in a heated voice, turning his face side-to-side when the pleasure rises to the top. The fluid splashes over their stomachs while his body twitches from the warmth inside.

Amidst the sound of their breathing, Sky still mutters the same word.

“Please.”

“Please what?” the big one asks.

The kid wraps his arms around Prapai’s neck harder, saying it like he’s about to cry.

“Please, get bored of me soon.”

The man doesn’t look away, he just replies, “Oh?”

“Hmm.”

But the tall man says nothing and just kisses the kid. HE doesn’t tell the other one that he won’t get bored soon. Instead, he’s falling head over heels… for the kid who keeps telling him to get bored. But those eyes have already caught Prapai’s heart.

What the kid really wants to say through those eyes is, ‘Please don’t get bored of me.’

Those begging eyes that make Prapai hold him even tighter.

#sky #prapai #prapaisky #love in the air #lita #love sky #novel #excerpt

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robo-milky · 7 months ago

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[MORE INFO]

[Loosely references Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde]

Nicknames:

Crema/クッレマ (Cloche) | Big Henchman (Grim) | Vet/Medic (Ace) | Tiger Prawn (Floyd) | Monsieur Fumé (Rook)

Bio:

A proud and confident man, loves nothing more than himself. He’ll act diplomatic when needed, but that exterior will crack fit if something doesn’t go his way. Mors is bad at compromising, and can be very stubborn. May act passive aggressive in retaliation. Ever the megalomaniac, he will stop at nothing to reach the top. He is a man above pretensions, like morality and ethics. Though he can be boisterous, Mors is well spoken, hurling obscure insults at those who earn his ire. No matter what, he is always in the right.

Core Values -> Accomplishment + Knowledge

Elm is the opposite of Mors, a humble and kind man. He’ll do good for the sake of it, not asking for anything in return. Can be a bit of a pushover.

Core values -> Inspiring + Empathy

Background:

From the hit series, “Loyalty Lock”, Mors is an antagonist. Was an aspiring doctor of noble birth, that got drafted by mistake. His military career consisted of being a foot soldier, medic, to army officer (through bribery and corruption). Along with him being a controversial political figure in Vostege, Mors has many enemies. This resulted in him buying hiring a special vessel from “Goldbelle’s Facility of Maids”.

Mors had no one else but himself to blame, having taken the life of his one and only ally. If he was still under her protection, would he be a free man? Arms bound by rope, wood digging into his neck, he might as well think of his last words instead of what-ifs.

Elm stepped into the dark carriage and Mors came out the of coffin.

Notable Thoughts: Mors’

“I can’t possibly imagine being buttered up so easily, like the Headmaster of this school. Hm? Why are you staring at me like that for?”

“Eugh… Not only does Miss Jin have to resemble Cloche, but they share the same name. It leaves a foul taste in my mouth.”

“Grim is a curious specimen, indeed! I’m no veterinarian, by any means, but I would love to take a closer look at him when he is still.”

“Mr. Trappola? The boy’s clever, alright. He always knows just the right things to say.”

“I suppose Mr. Spade is quite cute, is he not? Always so eager to please.”

“Mr. Howl is alright for a beastman… He is at least well disciplined. ”

“Mr. Pergameno is surprisingly knowledgeable of protective eyewear. I may ask him for recommendations, sometime.”

“Lucius seems to hiss at me whenever I stop by and chat with Professor Trein. I wonder why, hohoh…”

“Professor Crewel would make a fine drill sergeant. The crack of his whip brings me back to my days of youth.”

“Coach Vargas’ physique is extraordinary. I’d like to someday study his veins, if given the opportunity to.”

“The Mystery Shop always somehow has everything I need. I wouldn’t ask Mr. Sam any questions he wouldn’t ask me.”

Notable Thoughts: Others’

“Mr. Clematis? Such a nice and helpful man! Taking on the task of monitoring the library by himself, on top of his studies.” - Crowley

“It could have been anyone else from ‘Loyalty Lock’ to get isekai’d here, but it just had to be him.” - Cloche

“Eek! Hide me! Do not make that freak come near me, please!” - Grim

“Can you patch me up instead? I don’t wanna get another scolding from the Vet!” - Ace

“Yeah, of course I respect Mors! He’s been taking the time to help me with studying and some reading.” - Deuce

“Mors’ insistence of live specimens, for dissections, stresses me out a little, but that’s how he did it back in his time… haha…” - Trey

“If I had to choose between dealing with Rook and dealing with Mors, I’m taking Mors all the way. At least he can leave me alone.” - Ruggie

“That geezer has some magic within him, but it’s unlike any I’ve seen before. It smells off.” - Leona

“I’ve got to return the handkerchief Mors gave me someday!” - Leikata

“Ah, Mors! Talking with him gives me nostalgia. It’s not bad looking back into the past.” - Lilia

Extras/Trivia:

- Harbours a strong dislike of all beastmen, and a preference for humans

- Pops in and out of any classes if it interests him

- His glasses are pinched on the bridge of his nose

- May go off on a tangent about all the “incompetent people” of his world when drunk

- Always faintly smells of smoke. Cigar? Gun powder? …Something else?

- Addresses most of the cast as adults, since they would have “reached maturity” where he is

- Oddly flattered that there is a “series based on his life events and greatness”

- Greys early because of stress in his youth

Gallery:

#welcome to NRC old man (not actually that old)#questions welcome- will try to get around them once I finish my last event ask #expands on both cloche’ lore!#cat scribblez 🌸#oc: mors clematis #twisted wonderland #twst #twst oc #twst ocs #twst yuu #twisted wonderland oc #twst yuu oc #twst fanart #twisted wonderland fanart #twst art #twisted wonderland art #tw military

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luchibelle-throughthecosmere · 22 days ago

Text

W&T

REVIEW WITH SPOILERS

Kal.- Such a beatiful journey for my boy. Ever since leaving his hometown he unwittingly became a legend. Only a few actually got to see the mortal (Kaladin) behind that inmortal mask of determination (Stormblessed). His journey resounds in so many of us because beyond his inhuman abbilities he is a human just like us. The ultimate protector. The last remnant of Honor. Kaladin. Herald. Herald of Kings. Herald of the Wind. Herald of Second Chances.

Shallan.- Always wanted her to be a worldhopper but couldn't really see how that might happen once she married Adolin. Now she is trapped in Shadesmar among other worldhoppers. Yay. Also, she got on well with Thaidakar (whose motivations and needs don't disturbe Shallan's unlike Mraize and Iyatil's did). And- CHARANACH IS HER MOM.

Taln did NOT break. Ever. It was Shallan who triggered it all (poor thing has no fault really). Love the fact that Taln never broke, it always felt wrong. Reminds me of Dabbid a little -although his lack of words is trully caused by trauma not pretended-. Gotta make him tells us why he tried to kill Cultivation.

Jasnah.- Never liked her morality. It always felt wrong. Never liked her character because of it. That night at Karbranth, the assassins she hired, considering the extermination of the singers, stabbing a highprince... And then Brandon used the reverse card and actually confronted her about her actions and intentions. That is exactly what she needed. She will grow so much in the coming books! We still don't know why exactly she was confined as a kid but she kind of hinted that her mother was not okay with it, rescued her as soon as she got back from her travels. Hopefully, she will be the one to take Navani out of her self-induced coma.

Lift will finally let herself grow up and Vasher will help her about it! Will Cultivation's absence affect her powers? Since she never used Stormlight (or Towerlight) creating Lifelight out of food instead, will anything change for her now that Cultivation flee? Maybe Lift's presence lures her back to Roshar someday.

Sezth.- Never liked the idea of him becoming an Herald, even if it thematically worked since he won Jezrien's Shardblade. Glad how it turned out, he deserves a quiet life with the sheeps. Also, him being a Skybreaker finally clicked for me, it was about gainning agency and deciding for yourself. And we got to learn Aux's backstory as well!

Adolin not becoming a surgebinder was perfect. After how disappointing Wayne holding up a gun was, it was refreshing how Adolin stood by his decision not to become a Radiant. Really beautiful to see how despite the unoathed not being broken they can form an attachment to the spren. Now he is learning how to read which is fulfilling in itself, just like he was okay with women holding weapons he needs to be okay with men reading. Times are changing and they have to change as well, otherwise they will be left behind. Change can be good, both Lift and Adolin got to learn that finally.

Dalinar.- He understood Honor but didn't fit in. There was always something about him becoming the vessel of Honor that didn't work out for me. Now we have another vessel having trouble with the two Shards and their conflicting interests. Wished we could have seen a little bit more of what it meant to be the Stormfather's Bondsmith, now we will never get a chance unless we get new flashbacks. Syl, as the Ancient Daughter, is currently the oldest honorspren we have. Will she eventually take his place? The storm in her eyes... Also, really liked how Dalinar didn't have to fight Gav and found the answers where he always did, in Nohadon's pressence.

Rlain and Renarin paralleling Windrunner Garith and the Regal femalen singer was genius. Proof that both races can coexist and any conflict between them is each individual's fault, not the race they belong to. Both of them grow up a lot in this book and grow away from what their people want them to be, they become who THEY want to be. Agency. Individuality. Self-worth.

#wind and truth #wind and truth spoilers #spoilers #stormlight archive spoilers #cosmere spoilers #cfsbf #cosmere #brandon sanderson #stormlight archive #stormlight spoilers

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ithinkabouttzu · 5 months ago

Note

hello!

can i request a bob headcannon about the gn!reader having a cat that doesn't like the boys :)? feel free to skip this if you don't feel like writing it!

Easy co. reacting to their s/o having a cat that doesn’t like them!

a/n: Thank you for request love! i hope you enjoy!! 💗

genre: fluff!

warnings: swearing, a little jealousy?

description: Some of men from Easy reacting to their gn s/o having a cat that doesn’t like them!

taglist: @executethyself35 @linhkhanhcps @1waveshortofashipwreck @grumpy-liebgott @barbeygirl @samwinchesterslostshoe @ronsenthal @sweetxvanixlla @mstiemountainhop (If you want to be on this list, let me know!! :))

BoB masterlist

Dick Winters: Every time he’s at your place, he would just simply try to avoid your cat as much as possible. Like knowing that your cat doesn’t like him one bit, he’s not going to try and make friends with the little guy/girl. Maybe every once and while he’d buy your pet toys or treats for special occasions.

Lewis Nixon: It’s kinda pathetic how desperate he is to make your cat like him. Not because he likes cats a whole lot or anything but mostly because he wants to impress you. I could def see him whispering to your cat while you’re out of the room like, “hey you little fucker, why don’t you like me, huh?” He makes sure to get them a custom-made vat 69 chew toy.

Carwood Lipton: “Hey, you don’t have to be scared.” Unlike Winters he IS going to try and make friends with the little critter even after it’s been made clear that they don’t like him one bit lol. Everytime that he is over at your place he always greets your cat and immediately gets rejected by a hiss lol. He would sweetly talk to them when you’re sleeping like, “Your parent is the best person I know, you be good to them alright?”

Joe Toye: The feeling is surely mutual. You would probably think the feud between them two is hilarious. Like if your cat gives Joe that side eye look (that one all cats give) you better believe Joe is giving one right back to them. “Something is wrong with your cat, I think he/she’s plotting something evil.”

Joe Liebgott: He tries a good bit to be friends with your cat at first, but after a while he just learns to keep his distance after a good scratch on his arm. Even after that though you will always see Joe coming back to your place with treats, food, or toys. “I know you like me. You’re just trying to put up a front cuz’ i’m with your parent.”

Bill Guarnere: He has SERIOUS beef with your cat. Like the moment your cat even GLANCES at him he’s gonna say some dumb shit like, “Babe get your cat before he catches these hands” Lmaoo he’d never actually hurt your cat but he talks a big game to them alllll the time. Bill and your cat “act” like they don't like each other but then you’d see them secretly cuddling while you’re not paying attention.

George Luz: He’s kinda like Lip, willingly trying to play with your cat when they are just OVER it. Whenever the cat and him are alone it literally looks like the cat is babysitting Luz lmao. He would buy your cat a bunch of little fake rats and feather toys in hopes they would play with him. “Oh c’monn! You can’t act like you hate me forever!”

Bull Randleman: He’s gonna stay as far from the cat as possible. In all honesty, and he probably wouldn’t say this to you because he wouldn’t want you to get mad, but he HATES cats. 1. Because he’s allergic, 2. Because they’re always grumpy (In his words not mine.) He might pet cat a few times but that's about it.

Eugene Roe: “Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you I promise.” He’s so patient with your cat, it’s so freaking sweet. He doesn’t want to make your cat nervous or uncomfortable so he wouldn’t try pushing to play with him/her especially knowing that they don’t like him.

Floyd Talbert: He’s definitely gonna sit there and bribe your cat with treats for sure. Also saying shit like “You gotta start liking me someday, i’m gonna be your new dad soon” LMFAO. I have a feeling he would get oddly jealous over your cat if you were cuddling them and not him. “If you kiss them, you gotta kiss me too, yk?”

Skip muck: When you warn him that your cat isn’t very friendly and might get territorial his exact words are, “No way! I’m amazing with animals, practically a cat whisperer.” Pan to him a couple hours later keeping a three feet distance from your cat because it bit the shit out of his ankle and now he’s genuinely afraid of your cat. Let’s just say he’d keep his distance after that.

Don Malarkey: He would try being as friendly as possible with your cat (despite him being a very big dog person) at first, but once he realizes how much your cat actually hates him he gets kind of offended not gonna lie. “Honey, I’ve done almost everything to socialize with them, am I doing something wrong?”

Babe Heffron: He sneezes every time he’s around your cat soo much and he swears to you that he isn’t allergic. The beef all starts when he starts sneezing super hard around your place and it scares the fuck out of your cat. He doesn’t mean to antagonize them, but it just comes off that way with the loud ass sneezes, will buy a couple toys for them tho.

Shifty Powers: This man is the actual male version of snow white, so when you tell him your cat is a bit reactive and probably won’t like him he understands, but at the same time when he meets your cat he’s going to spend the rest of his night trying to get them to like him. (And it obviously works somehow because he’s an animal whisperer.)

Frank Perconte: “If that cat bites me or claws me, I'm swingin’.” Right from the moment he meets your cat he’s giving them the dirtiest looks EVER. Sometimes he feels like he’s definitely fighting for your attention whenever the cat is around. He might act like he’s your cat's biggest hater but in all honesty he loves them to death.

Ronald Speirs: He is ODDLY quiet around the cat. The only way I can describe the relationship is Brennan and Dale from Stepbrothers. They love each other, can't stand each other, but are also seen being together all the time? Both him and the cat will act like they don’t like eachother but they do.

Johnny Martin: He’s very willing to push for a relationship with your cat, even if they absolutely hate him. Mostly to make you happy and comfortable with them two being around each other. Whenever the cat hisses at him he loves to say that “they’re just warming up to me.” And it’s literally been 5 months LMAO.

Skinny Sisk: “Aw, aren’t you a little cutie?” The hate is so one-sided it’s horrible. He will desperately try to hangout with your cat while they actually want to bite his eyes out. “Here, let me feed them, maybe they’ll like me more if I do it.” Sweet baby is COMMITTED to making your cat like him.

Chuck Grant: Whenever he is at your place and sees your cat, he acts simply invisible. His reasoning is, if he acts like he isn't there then he practically is. He won’t go as far as to even look your cat in the eye. He might pet them once or twice but other than that he likes to keep his distance.

David Webster: He probably wants to read you an article on reactive cats and the proper way to fix the aggression coming from them of course. He wants to make sure your cat doesn't hate him for long. He would try playing a lot of calming music for animals and stuff like that when they are hanging out.

Buck Compton: He’s probably going to go out of his way to buy your cat all kinds of stuff like toys and treats but as far as interacting goes he doesn’t like to be around them for too long (especially when you aren’t there with him too lmao) he’s scared of your cat but definitely won’t admit that to you haha.

Again, thank you for requesting! If you enjoyed, make sure to like or reblog!! 💗

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radioisntdead · 8 months ago

Text

Bittersweet

Alastor x reader

I was going to post this Saturday mornin' but I'm in a SUPER good mood today so y'all get this early!

The drabble sequel to too sweet that no one asked for

Song used!

Warnings:

Death, song lyrics don't really go together with the story but it's too late for me to change it, implied rebellion and skimming through the whole hazbin hotel redemption thing getting approved by heaven and that's about it!

You didn't like bitter things, having parents who came from old money they could afford such luxuries like surger even if it was hard to come by with the sugar shortages.

You were spoiled with sweet desserts after dinner, rewarded with a surgery treat after you did well in school, you liked the sweet stuff.

Someday, we'll have our last conversation

So it was a little bit of a shock when you began falling for Alastor of all people, he could be described as charming, creepy, murdery, dangerous, energetic but never sweet, and not to mention he had a strong preference for bitter things.

And drink our last cup of coffee

It was just supposed to be a small crush, you've had them before, you had a track record of romancing people and leaving them once they wanted to take the next step, usually involving a bed.

You weren't completely afraid of commitment,

You just wanted the pure, sweet parts of romance not the rest, but the pure sweet parts only lasted so long, once they ended you would leave your darlings alone, heartbroken and confused because things were going great, and while courting Alastor wasn't super sweet or 'pure' like your past relationships it was comfortable, and a little tart, a perfect balance like coffee cake.

Someday, we might be dead

You decided if Alastor was a type of sweet he'd be a rich bitter dark chocolate or maybe some type of licorice? Maybe that cinnamon hard candy that burned your throat.

And think about the different things we used to say

Unlike your past relationships with Alastor you didn't have to worry about "the next step" that made you abandon your former darlings, that step was skipped over completely much to your relief, in replacement a certain three words would be that step, unfortunately neither you or Alastor were prepared to say it outright but you'd make it evident with acts of service, bringing snacks, reading over radio scripts or seeing something the other would like and purchasing it.

And with that you silently vowed that your relationship with Alastor would be the one that lasts for the rest of eternity.

All the memories of you will just become a ghost

You truly did love Alastor, more then You've loved anyone in a romantic sense before, and that's why you didn't regret taking Adam's hit for him,

Sure bleeding out in Alastor's Radio tower as the man's permanent smile attempted to twist itself into a frown, grimace or something, anything other then a smile, it hurt like a thousand knives were thrown into you but you'd do it again if you had too, a million times if you had too, if you weren't already in hell you would've said you'd go to hell and back for him.

Of a smile caught in the wind

You said those three little words that held so much and then proceeded to close your eyes forever, the last thing you felt was Alastor's arms pull you in as he returned those words.

What a tragic ending, it wasn't sweet at all, just bitter.

Someday, It'll be the last day

You and Alastor made plans for after extermination, talked about the future, What were you supposed to now?

One day, it could be over

You and Sir Pentious were greeted by an ecstatic seraphim who quickly introduced herself as Emily and another more shocked one who was introduced as Sera,

Tears swelled up in your eyes as you asked if you could go back because your dearest Alastor must think you were gone, double dead!

The moon could seem so far away

You couldn't go back, you tried, you really did, you fought remaining exorcists in an attempt to leave, and you tried to fling yourself off the clouds but you were stopped by Sir Pentious who had taken it upon himself to keep you safe, after all you were his friend.

You were glad you had a friend with you at least.

Despite all the adventures

Heaven was changing as the possibility of sinners being redeemed started petitions, polite riots, and more.

People had loved ones down there, and if they were still kicking then maybe, just maybe they could see them again! But on the other side, there were sinners that could, and should not ever be redeemed, maybe they could be targets for extermination!

That we promise we'd go on

You missed Alastor more then words could express, it was like a part of your heart was missing and it hurt.

You didn't know if you'd ever get to see your beloved ever again.

Again and again

You missed how Alastor balanced out your overly sweet nature, how when you'd take that overly sugary drink of yours he'd take something more bitter,

While your cup of coffee was filled with milk, whipped cream, surger and more, his was just plain ol' black coffee,

You missed when Alastor would take your hand and you'd dance the night away, you missed when he'd, on occasion, let you braid his hair because it calmed your nerves, you missed when he'd make something from his mother's cookbook for you.

You missed the unnatural beef he had with the little cat thing that uncannily resembled him.

The two of you were a good combo, a good match, you liked sweet things, he liked bitter,

Bittersweet things are a nice combination, aren't they?

All the memories of you and all the stories

Eventually it was decided that redemption was a viable option, that it was proven, You and Sir Pentious were living, walking, talking proof.

We were part of, lost in the wind

So after a few long drawn out months, they decided to finally contact Charlie about it and a plan was set to bring some of the hotel residents, just to get an idea of what was to come.

Someday (someday)

And to visit Sir Pentious and you!

It'll be the last day

You wore your best, you preened your newfound wings, making sure the heart motifs that donned them looked nice, they were a stark reminder of what or rather who you died for, you died for love, you died for Alastor.

You regretted nothing at all but you must wonder, would he have done the same?

I won't forget how it feels to be loved

No matter that it was time to reunite with your friends and see the one you died for once again.

To be remembered by someone as special as you

You and Sir Pentious waited for your signal to enter the room where Charlie and others were discussing things related to the hotel.

Someday, I will drink the last cup of coffee with a smile

You heard Emily call for you and Pentious to come in, you hesitated for just a moment, hand hovering just over the door knob,

What if Alastor didn't hold you in the same regards as before? After all you did die in his arms, that's pretty traumatizing and you highly doubted that the overlord would go to therapy and even if he did the poor therapist would probably end up being his lunch.

I won't forget how it feels to be loved

You took a deep breath and opened the door, you could see the shocked looks on your friends faces that soon turned into tears, smiles and words of "you're alive! You've been redeemed! Swear words!"

To be remembered by someone as special as you

Your eyes glance around your friends, looking for a certain red-40 themed deer.

You smile, you smile that sugary sweet smile that causes Alastor to let out a loud screech of radio static that makes your friends flinch but you didn't mind that as you proceeded to shout his name and practically tackle the deer in a hug.

Completely ignoring the other people in the room.

Someday, I will drink the last cup of coffee with a smile

Just for a moment it was like you didn't die in his arms, like it wasn't almost a year since the two of you were separated because of said death, like you hadn't been haunting Alastor's mind, you didn't know how this would work but it wouldn't hurt for this moment to pretend that this wouldn't end and he'd have to go back with the sinners below while you got to stay with the winners above.

You didn't like bitter things but you'd wholeheartedly indulge in bitterness if it'd keep you with Alastor.

Good evening folks, thank you for tuning on in, I hope you enjoyed this little drabble! I ended the first part with angst so figured I might as well give this a 'happy' ending!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin hotel Alastor x reader #hazbin hotel Alastor x you

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timberwind · 2 years ago

Photo

Yarragardee Basin, Mangala, 7995 A.D. [this image is no longer canon due to changing of the timescale on which Mangala was terraformed]

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Accompanying music: You’re On Fire by They Might Be Giants. Summer road trip music of all time, in my opinion.

Here’s a little expository write-up on the history and geography of the worlds shown here. Someday I’ll have more to show of the personal story of these two critters and their travels; until then, a more macro-level description.

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

(most of this info has become outdated as modeling invalidated some original assumptions and I changed my mind on what I wanted here; future art of Mangala will reflect this)

Mangala and its sister world Kahira (visible in the background) are binary planets, orbiting one another in a manner not entirely unlike that of Pluto and Charon in the Solar System. Mangala is a relatively small world - just about twenty percent the mass of the Earth, something like if you took two copies of Mars and smushed them together; without the internal heat to drive a carbonate cycle long term, it had long been a frozen, dusty, and arid place when transhumanity first established a permanent presence in the Tahoka system almost a thousand years ago. Since those early days, terraforming using a Birchian soletta system (a huge but foil-thin Fresnel lens of mirrors, with a secondary focal lens for burning atmospheric gasses out of the regolith) has rendered it shirtsleeve habitable to baseline humans across much of the surface, although the global water inventory remains low* and the air in the “continental” uplands is stratospheric, with only the hardiest lichens establishing a foothold. Most of Mangala’s major metropolitan areas are located in the deep rift valleys and basins, where air pressure is highest.

Kahira on the other hand, a rock almost a fifth the mass of its sister world (a little under the mass of old Mercury), remains only slightly terraformed - surface conditions are persistently cold, with a thin barely-Martian atmosphere. Some of its larger rift valleys and craters have been tented over, aerated, and planted with tall low-gravity forest and grassland, a style of habitat construction dating back to the first Mars colonists almost six thousand years ago. Industrial complexes and buried cities sprawl out across the bare surface of the moon, with huge low-gravity lava tubes seeing extensive urban development.

The Yarragardee Basin, pictured above, is a graben basin in Mangala’s northern hemisphere, notable for the historic industrial city of Tirupati - here we see two road-trippers between cities on the basin’s great plain, taking a break in the long late afternoon of a sunset-day***. Having stopped for a night at a motel near Tirupati’s aerospace complex, they’re now continuing their journey to the city of Redmond-Tonasket, located in the Woronora Valles trench system about two thousand kilometers to the southwest.

* While plenty of water could have been imported from Tahoka’s cometary halo, it was decided not to do so in order to avoid inundating pre-existing cities in the valleys and deep basins. The extremely humid hothouse conditions that come after slamming dismantled ice moons through the stratosphere at over six kilometers a second were also broadly considered unacceptable.

** Smaller worlds have been terraformed in transhuman space, both by worldhouse and more open-air methods, but it’s largely the kind of thing that much more energy-rich systems do as a vanity project. Kahira may someday see blue skies, but likely not for a thousand years at least. (edit, one year later: I actually changed up some of this while simulating this system for stability. I’ll be posting more about this soon.)

*** Mangala and Kahira, being tidally locked to each other such that they always show one another the same face as they orbit their common center of mass, both have days exactly as long as their orbital periods - 403 kiloseconds, or roughly 112 hours. This is for convenience divided into month-weeks comprising four “circadian days” of 100 kiloseconds (~26 hours), with the remaining three kiloseconds added on to the last day of a month-week to keep synchronization.

#cazart

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esther-dot · 1 year ago

Note

But why do you think jonsa wasn’t more foreshadowed if they’re the main romantic pairing?

Well, I think we have comparable foreshadowing, often as a positive contrast to Jonerys foreshadowing which the entire fandom believes is the big romance of the series, so I’m gonna challenge your premise and argue that it isn't the lack of foreshadowing for Jonsa that you're noticing, but the fandom's refusal to accept it. I believe that's because Jonsa is a threat to their priors (Jon and Dany are the heroes, they will meet, fall in love, and defeat the Others together, something that is impossible to believe when Martin says things like this) rather than it being a fair evaluation of the existence or merit of our foreshadowing.

Below I'll point out a few kinds of foreshadowing/examples and present the similar Jonsa version so you can see what I mean.

The premise for Jonerys seems to be that every similarity in their arcs is a parallel, but they are actually contrasts if you read closely (fedonciadale's post about that), and Sansa too has parallels with Jon as you can see in @thewindsofwolves's beautiful parallel series. Their similar journeys are also captured in this gifset and this gorgeous art, and it is certainly intentional, as Sansa seems to pattern Alayne in part on Jon ie we're being told she's getting to experience parts of his life. And, unlike Dany whose plan to conquer Westeros puts her at odds with the Starks, Sansa and Jon are written as having the same, very simple, compatible dream,

If I give him sons, he may come to love me. She would name them Eddard and Brandon and Rickon, and raise them all to be as valiant as Ser Loras. And to hate Lannisters, too. In Sansa's dreams, her children looked just like the brothers she had lost. Sometimes there was even a girl who looked like Arya. (ASOS, Sansa II) I would need to steal her if I wanted her love, but she might give me children. I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall. I could name him Robb. (ASOS, Jon XII)

If we're looking for a romance, foreshadowing that is about a personal relationship, this seems pertinent? And then there's Jon's desire to rebuild Winterfell, and the scene of Sansa literally building it out of snow:

Winterfell, he thought. Theon left it burned and broken, but I could restore it. Surely his father would have wanted that, and Robb as well. They would never have wanted the castle left in ruins. (ASOS, Jon XII) The snow fell and the castle rose. Two walls ankle-high, the inner taller than the outer. Towers and turrets, keeps and stairs, a round kitchen, a square armory, the stables along the inside of the west wall. It was only a castle when she began, but before very long Sansa knew it was Winterfell. (ASOS, Sansa VII)

Those two, back-to-back chapters, are absolutely full of parallels. They share a dream, and upon their reunion, will have a common purpose. I'll also link my post about how Sansa's forced marriage to Tyrion has connections to Jon's relationship with Ygritte, and @stormcloudrising's post about the similarities between the interactions of Sansa and the Hound & Jon and Ygritte. There are tons of these, but you get the idea. If we're looking for parallels between experiences, we have them.

Now, a popular method of finding foreshadowing is chapter order, but Jonsa has that too. Here's a 2018 post by @julibf that talks a bit about it, and @istumpysk's ASOS recap talks about that here and here.

There are two moments I've seen Jonerys shippers point to quite often as foreshadowing. Jon and the moon, Dany and the wolf. But the thing is, Sansa is the sun, and one of the "Jonerys" (Jon and the moon) passages has Jon running away from the moon to the cave with the sun (fedonciadale's post about that). The wolf moment also has a Jonsa contrast:

Off in the distance, a wolf howled. The sound made her feel sad and lonely, but no less hungry. As the moon rose above the grasslands, Dany slipped at last into a restless sleep. (ADWD, Daenerys X) All around was empty air and sky, the ground falling away sharply to either side. There was ice underfoot, and broken stones just waiting to turn an ankle, and the wind was howling fiercely. It sounds like a wolf, thought Sansa. A ghost wolf, big as mountains. (AFFC, Alayne II)

Far be it from me to say that Dany hearing a wolf but being lost to her desires and Sansa hearing a wolf, a ghost wolf, and finding it an overwhelming presence (mountain) means something, but if one does, the other does too. And if we're reading them both as foreshadowing, I think there are some reasonable, and unreasonable conclusions to draw from them. So, you can see why imo the fandom employs a double standard in how they weigh the merits of foreshadowing and interpret one as nonexistent and the other as real and positive.

Another oft referenced bit is Dany's vision of the blue flower and the dream of the shadowy lover, so I'll link some analysis of those that I think is far more...uh, shall I say, contextualized. There are @agentrouka-blog's posts on Winter Roses here and here, and her tag for it if you're interested in really exploring it thoroughly. There’s fedoncidale's post about it, her post about the shadowy lover, and @ladyofasoiaf's spec about how the shadow lover foreshadowing is actually Euron.

Oh, and I almost forgot Val who I've seen brought into the picture as foreshadowing for Dany, but there's a funny thing with her hair which again, if we're gonna look at her hair color and say she's a stand-in for Dany, we should be able to look at it and say, ok, but that means over here she's a stand-in for Sansa, and besides, the connotations for Jonerys there are very bad as discovered by @wintersnow39.

Basically, I don't think there's a lack of foreshadowing, I think there's simply a bias in the fandom that rejects Jonsa foreshadowing while happily accepting incredibly similar foreshadowing for other couples.

#jonsa #anti jonerys #dot chat

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icycoldninja · 7 months ago

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Hi hi, may I request Female!Reader being Nero’s biological mother during dmc4? She’s upset that Vergil is not with them but she doesn’t fall into despair because she has to be strong for Nero

Absolutely.

Vergil x Nero's Mother!Reader headcannons

-When you met Vergil, it was like a light had just been turned on in a dark room, allowing you to see for the first time. You were so in love with him, and everything he did.

-It seemed he felt the same because after a few months of getting to know one another and generally enjoying each other's company, somehow, under circumstances you can't quite recall, you ended up sleeping together.

-After that, Vergil disappeared. Why he left was a mystery to you, as he didn't even leave a note. He just up and vanished, like a ghost. You suspected it was because he felt guilty for growing so intimate with a human, but these were just speculations--lonely ones, at that.

-Your monumental shock when you discovered you were pregnant was understandable, given everything that had already happened. Who you thought was your greatest love had ditched you; a month afterward you found out he'd impregnated you. Did Vergil know this would happen? Was that why he left?

-You didn't have time to worry about that, though, you had to prepare for the arrival of your baby.

-When little Nero did get here, (you decided on the name beforehand) you were overjoye. Your lover might have left, but he gave you a gift that you would treasure forever: a beautiful baby boy.

-You tried your best not to let Vergil's abandonment get to you and focused on being a good mother for your newborn baby, whom you loved more than life itself.

-It was highly unlikely that Vergil knew of your child, but you hoped that someday, he'd come back, and you'd get to introduce the two.

-You could try and get him to pay child support, but it's highly unlikely he'll pay.

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farity · 2 years ago

Text

To tread lightly

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader

Summary: Aemond learns that his betrothed is a gentle soul

Warning: Smut

“The Mowbrays may not be a large house, but their lands are in the perfect strategic spot in Westeros and they are far richer than just about any other family, including the Lannisters.”

Aemond looked at his grandsire, his expression showing the same disinterest he had felt throughout the entire meeting.

“It is an advantageous match, and she is said to be lovely.”

“Loveliness is wasted on me, grandfather, as long as she is malleable, quiet, and fertile, she will do.”

Otto studied his grandson. There was a fire in him, a fire that did not exist in Aegon and had not yet bloomed in Daeron. He often thought it might render Aemond into a pile of ashes if unleashed, but tempered with intelligence, it might make this grandson a great Hand of the King for his brother someday.

“Very well, I shall proceed with the negotiations.”

* * * * *

You were sure you could guide a ship into harbor with all the jewels on your gown. If you turned back and forth, a ship’s captain would see the rays of light firing from every single stone and go safely home.

“It also meant the floor length dress was incredibly heavy, and that did not include the elaborate headdress or the train that had yet to be attached. “Is this really necessary?” you asked your mother. “They’ve already agreed to the betrothal.”

"Stand up straight, darling,” Your mother walked around you. “Remember you are well educated, highly accomplished, and come from two old families that can trace their lineage for centuries. Just because we are a small House does not take away from our family history. You are a Mowbray, be proud of it.”

She added a jewel encrusted bracelet to one of your wrists. “And, unlike many of these so called noble daughters, you have remained pure.”

Oh yes, that had been stipulated in the negotiations. A Septa sent by the Targaryens had personally confirmed it. Your mother had held you the whole time, two servants holding a large cloth of gold to cover you from the hips up to the roof of your canopied bed as you laid, legs spread, on the bed. The Septa had inserted two slim fingers inside you and then removed them and that had been that.

What about your bridegroom? He might have bedded half the land and it wouldn’t have mattered, but you, of course, had to be untouched and intact. One of your cousins had been repudiated even though she insisted she had not lain with anyone, and all she could come up with was that she was a devoted horse rider, but all the same, she was banished to a small village so her shame would not be spread to her family.

“Try not to look so disdainful, darling,” your mother said, “whatever else they are, the Targaryens are in power.”

* * * * *

“Your Highness, I am so glad to finally meet you.”

Aemond watched the girl drop into a curtsy, her gown sparkling with every movement. She was pretty, he supposed, and looked agreeable enough. He extended his hand and she placed one small hand upon it before rising, a sweet smile on her face.

“You are most welcome here, my lady.”

If she expected him to kiss her hand or her cheek, or for him to say he was happy to meet her, she did not seem disappointed when he did none of those things. Maybe she had been well trained and would not be an annoyingly clingy wife. At least he hoped so. He led her to her chair at the banquet table, watched her charm everyone throughout dinner, and after the meal, stood when his mother suggested he take his betrothed for a walk around the gardens.

She looked up at him, that sweet smile back on her face, and followed him down the many corridors.

“Are the gardens this way?” she asked, as they went into darker and darker hallways.

Aemond, walking in front of her, said nothing.

* * * * *

By the Maiden, could he be more disinterested in you?

You followed him as best you could, the heavy gown and new slippers making you a little clumsy. He continued in front of you, his longer legs covering more distance than yours, and you really, really wanted to tell him to stop and let you catch up.

You turned a corner and found yourself pressed against the wall, but instead of a stolen kiss or some attempt at groping you, he planted his hands on either side of your head and looked at you.

“I am told you are learned, so I hope you will not have to be told more than once,” he began. “You are my betrothed, and as of this moment you belong to me.”

You opened your mouth to speak but he continued.

“Your loyalty is to me, your every effort will be in my favor and dictated by me,” he leaned in until his nose was almost touching yours. “I will not tolerate any treachery, lies, or betrayals by you, and should you attempt to defy me, I will-”

“Stop!”

You covered your face, unable to take any more.

“Please,” you added, letting your hands slide down. His eye bore fiercely into you. “Why are you speaking to me like this?”

“I merely want you to know how things will be in our marriage.”

“Oh, is it a marriage now,” you felt anger rising inside you, “it sounds like I am to be your prisoner, unable to say a word or form a thought unless approved by you.”

“That would be ideal,” he snapped.

You moved to slip under his arm but he was quicker, keeping you against the wall.

“Why me, then?”

“Your family is the richest in the land.”

You turned away, anger and resentment coursing through you.

“I was not finished.”

You did not move, still looking away.

“Other than your moon blood, I will accept no excuse for you to not be in my bed. Once with child, you will follow every instruction you are given and take no risks, and after the birth, the maester will decide when you can take me again.”

You felt his lips brush across your temple. “During formal events, I expect you to behave in a way that honors the throne and the family, otherwise you will be confined to your rooms.”

There were hot tears beginning to sting at your eyes and you did everything in your power to keep them from spilling.

“Compose yourself,” he said, “we are heading back now.”

* * * * *

Aemond saw the effort it took for her to keep smiling through the rest of the evening. She did not glance at him again, instead chatting with both his mother and her own. Soon enough, she pleaded being tired and headed to her rooms along with her mother. He stood as she passed, and took her hand to kiss it. Her eyes looked somewhere past his shoulder and her smile was strained.

It was better this way. She should know what was expected of her. He had been betrayed and ignored by enough people in his life and would not allow his wife to do the same. Her life with him would be peaceful enough, he was not a cruel man. He would look out for her, make sure she had everything she needed, and protect her as best he could. In exchange he expected her loyalty and a behavior that honored the crown and the family. If she was expecting flowery declarations and a husband so besotted he praised her at every turn, it was better that she was set right.

He would have a marriage that brought no further insult to his life, a wife that behaved with decorum, and a family that might, finally, fill the void that lurked inside him. He caught his mother’s questioning gaze and a pang of guilt hit him.

* * * * *

“Darling, many things are said in the beginning of a marriage that have no bearing on the coming years.”

You were sobbing uncontrollably, wanting nothing more than to go home, away from the horrible man you’d been betrothed to.

“Mother please,” you managed between sniffles. “I do not want this. I will suffocate with all these rules and the way he talks to me.”

“Child,” your mother said soothingly. “Let’s look at what he actually said. We all know he has this stern façade because of what happened to him, but let’s take that away for a moment.”

“I don’t want to.”

You heard an exasperated sigh from your mother. “Dearest one, he has warned you not to betray him, which is understandable, and has told you he wants children and to behave properly. It is truly not all that awful.”

“He did not have to say it that way, mother.” You wiped your nose with the handkerchief she had given you. “So coldly, so brusquely.”

“He does not know you, my dove.”

“So what? One does not speak to one’s future spouse in such a manner.”

"We are marrying you to a man close to the throne, you will be part of the most powerful family in the realm, you must be stronger and not let petty disputes slip under your skin.”

She placed a quick kiss on your forehead before leaving and you decided you would not let your earlier interaction sour your disposition. You had been well informed on what would take place during the consummation, you were prepared and would be pleasant and dutiful. Maybe he would grow to like you, you thought.

* * * * *

He watched her walk toward him on her mother’s arm. It was unusual but Lady Mowbray had said she was merely substituting for her late husband and would brook no opposition.

His betrothed was pale but composed, her smile sweet, and when he kissed her after saying the words, he felt her fingers tighten on his shoulders.

“Are you very tired?”

She turned to look at him, now in the candlelight of their bedchamber, and shook her head. “Not really.” She studied him for a moment, then asked, “would you like for me to brush your hair?”

Aemond had not expected this, and was silent for a moment. Had she not realized that in order to brush his hair he would need to remove his eye patch? He began walking toward her, deciding that he might as well show her what she had been wed to. Maybe she would never again offer to brush his hair.

Better to find out now.

He pulled off the eye patch in one smooth motion. “If you like, wife, I should very much enjoy having you brush my hair.”

To her credit, she did not wince or recoil upon seeing the sapphire in his eye socket. He sat by the fire and waited for her, wondering if she would suddenly say she was too tired.

“Does your, uh, eye stone need to be removed?”

He turned, noticing how the fire backlit her form, making the nightgown she wore all but invisible. Her hips were shapely and her waist slim and suddenly he didn’t care about his damn hair or his damn anything, but he turned back to let her begin her work. “Every few days, and the maester deals with it.”

She gently pulled off the hair tie he also wore, holding the hair close to his scalp so she wouldn’t tug on it. Her touch was delicate but sure, and then he wanted her hands on his skin. When she ran the brush down the length of his hair, he could have moaned, it felt so good. Ridiculously good.

She continued brushing, her bare feet making no sound on the floor as she went around him. He wanted to pull her onto his lap, make her put her hands on him, kiss her mouth without an audience this time and take his time making her his.

“I am sorry.”

The brushing stopped and he felt her nervousness as if it had weight. He turned and saw her standing with the brush in her hands.

“I spoke to you much too harshly yesterday. I pray you can look past my transgression.”

The sweet smile reappeared. “There is no need for this, husband. We have all been overwrought from all this wedding business.”

He felt his own mouth curve in response. She thought he had been nervous? Him, the most feared man at court. She was walking back to him to continue and he couldn’t wait any longer, he simply reached out and pulled her to him. He felt her sharp inhale of breath and she tossed the brush onto the other chair before linking her arms around his neck.

Her lips were a new delicacy, and he took his time tasting her, delighting in the way she shivered in his arms. She was making eager little noises, wriggling against him and he knew he had to get her on the bed before he took her on the floor in front of the fire.

Slipping one arm under her knees and the other around her shoulders, he rose and walked to his bed. He sat on the edge, still kissing her as he undid the laces on the front of her nightgown. Once undone the garment fell open, revealing the inner curves of her breasts. Mesmerized, Aemond moved her to the bed, slipping the gown off of her. He saw the instinct to cover herself, the way her arms twitched to cross in front of her breasts and then she looked up at him.

“The Mother has given me a beautiful wife.”

She swallowed as he began to remove his own clothes, her eyes never leaving his.

* * * * *

Your new husband was very fine, indeed.

He was tall and slim but all the training he did had given power to his lean, muscled frame. You saw the way his hair moved across his shoulder as he discarded his trousers, and wondered how his skin would feel under your fingertips.

He kneed your legs apart, settling his weight between them. You knew what was to happen, but it was one thing to be told about it and another to be experiencing it.

“Are you alright?”

His voice was soft, kind, and it soothed your nerves. “Yes, I didn’t know I would enjoy the kissing so much.”

He smiled down at you and bent down to kiss you again. This time you remembered what he had done a minute ago and touched the tip of your tongue to his lips. He tasted like the spices used to mull the wine, even though you hadn’t seen him drink more than a sip or two. He let you explore his mouth, his hand gentle on your hair.

You felt his hand stroking your thigh, his touch leaving a path of warmth on your skin. “Do you enjoy me touching you?”

Your cheeks warmed at his words, and you nodded. Maybe if you touched him you would feel less nervous. You ran your hands across his broad shoulders and down his arms, then tucked one lock of hair behind his ear and caressed his scarred cheek.

“Are you repulsed?”

“By a scar?” you asked, incredulously.

“And a missing eye. I will put the eyepatch back on if it offends you.”

You shook your head, and pulled him down to kiss the ruined skin. “It does not offend me. Or repulse me,” you murmured softly, hoping he believed you. Your hands continued exploring, now running up the planes of his back. It was a strange thing, to discover another human being like this, something as mundane as skin revealing so much by the responses to your touch.

He was clearly indulging you, giving you time before he took you, and for that you reached up again, pressing your mouth against his. Soon you felt his hand between your legs and were reminded of the Septa. But whereas that was simply a process taken to confirm your status, this was completely different. His fingers moved lightly over a spot the Septa had not touched, and you shivered, the sensation making you want more.

He kept rubbing the same spot over and over, and you felt a whimper escape you. It was becoming too much, and at the same time you did not want him to stop. “Give yourself to me, sweet wife,” he said. When you began rocking your hips, he murmured his approval, and you felt something happening, something that was taking over your every sense, and still he did not stop. You buried your face in his neck and cried out as pleasure and fire unfurled inside of you.

* * * * *

He felt her go completely still at that moment, her body frozen as she came. She was clinging to him, one leg curled over his hip, arms wound tight around him, and he began driving inside her. She gasped, pleasure and pain mixing as he tore through her maidenhead, but he felt the rhythmic grasp of her inner muscles as pain quickly faded.

She let her head fall back on the bed, her skin flushed, and he kissed her as he claimed her, his need for her barely tempered by the knowledge that he was her first, her only, and he needed to go slowly. He felt her hand on his cheek, the gentle caress of her fingertips and turned to kiss her palm.

Mine, he thought, my own sweet wife.

The feel of her beneath him was intoxicating. That she was his, that out of all the possibilities he had ended up with her as his wife, and that she had seen past his despicable behavior . . . Aemond knew he did not deserve her. He did not deserve a woman who went willingly to his bed and placed her trust in him. He lost himself in her arms, the touch of her lips on his face, and accepted whatever mistake the gods had made in giving her to him as a blessing.

* * * * *

Alicent knew the moment her new daughter-in-law had returned from the market. Not because she saw the young woman herself, but because she saw Aemond look up and then his shoulders relaxed, his face lost its usual stern expression, and books and maps were abandoned as he went to meet his wife.

She saw her younger son place a chaste kiss on his wife’s lips, then he took the basket from her hands while she showed him whatever she had purchased. He looked back at one moment, thanking the two guards who had accompanied her and then let her maid take the basket.

She watched the two young people walk away, the young woman at one point leaning her head against his shoulder, and his instinctive move to kiss the top of her head. And she smiled to herself when they were late for dinner.

* * * * *

@arryn-nyx @greenowlfactif @hydrationqueensworld @megzdoodle@melsunshine @queenofshinigamis @throughgoeshamilton @travelingmypassion

@hb8301 @kaemond-zafiro

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #Aemond x Reader #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #hotd fanfiction #hotd aemond

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