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chrollogy · 15 hours ago

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EPISODE 2: CHOCOLATE GONE WRONG

neuvillette x f!reader

NNN ‘24 masterlist | Next Episode

DETAILS: Neuvillette finds himself itching to break the sacred rule of No Nut November after naïvely indulging in aphrodisiac-laced chocolates gifted by Sigewinne—a popular craze among young Fontanian adults.

DURATION: 5.3k

CONTENT ADVISORY: explicit smut, mdni, porn without plot, p in v, creampie, neuvi has two cocks + emphasis on his draconic features, use of aphrodisiacs (neuvillette), neuvi uses his cane as a makeshift leg spreader bar, pet names (ma/mon chérie, ma belle, (my) love), not beta read

DIRECTOR’S NOTES: divider: cafekitsune. round 2! also i’m not quite sure i will get the next two fics out in time (or if i’m getting them out at all) but i will try my best T_T. your lil moon is having a rough patch rn so yeah but nonetheless enjoy!

For Neuvillette, the month of November was nothing significant to say the least—his job continued, overseeing trials, sorting out documents, meeting with important people, and more workload now that Lady Furina had stepped down from archon hood; so, when you had come into his office one day, talking about how a certain trend spread like fire across Teyvat, Neuvillette was rather intrigued.

It had a weird name—No Nut November—and couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the idea based on the name alone. He remembered how you explained to him Fontanians, and people of other nations were to engage in No Nut November which was to participate in sexual abstinence.

Naturally, the idea was all bizarre to him—not because he thought he couldn’t do it but more so the fact that it was natural for humans to engage in intercourse, same goes for his kind as well. Neuvillette couldn’t see the significance of such a trend, and why humans were participating but who was he to deny your proposal of a challenge? After all, there was no harm involved, he figured it would help him understand human customs a little better despite the it’s strangeness in nature.

Situated behind his desk, Neuvillette let out a deep sigh, letting the papers in his hand fall onto the wooden desk beneath before rubbing his temples.

“Stressed, Monsieur?” A familiar, teasing voice sliced through the suffocating silence of the Iudex’s office. Neuvillette looked up from his desk, greeted by a friendly figure. The former was too focused on the case materials before him that he hadn’t realised the presence of another, “Wriothesley. I’m rather surprised to see you.”

The raven-haired male was clad in his usual attire, heavy obsidian boots sounding with each step taken against the carpeted floors.

“Ah, you’re not the only one.” Wriothesley chuckled, recalling his encounter with Sedene just mere seconds ago, who looked like she had just seen a ghost. Before Neuvillette could inquire about the sudden visit, the former beat him to it,

“Don’t worry, I won’t take up much of your time. I’m here because Sigewinne had given me an errand to run. She got these for you.” Taking a couple steps closer to Neuvillette’s desk, Wriothesley placed a small box atop the case papers. Carefully wrapped in an ivory satin ribbon, the azure container was adorned with intricate designs in gold that shone beneath the afternoon sun, neatly decorated chocolates peeked from the plastic window of the lid.

The Chief Justice subtly raised his brows in amusement, he wasn’t one to indulge in chocolate nor was he a sweet tooth but nonetheless, he appreciated Sigewinne’s thoughtful gesture.

“That is very kind, please thank her for me.”

Watching the way Neuvillette’s expression morphed into a naïve smile, Wriothesley crossed his arms over his chest, “Say, Monsieur, have you heard of the craze among young Fontanian adults right now?” He most likely already knew the Iudex’s answer to the question but what was life without a little teasing?

With how the popular sweet has been making rounds across Fontaine, it would be near impossible for anyone to be clueless about it but at the end of the day, Neuvillette was Neuvillette, probably the busiest man in all of Fontaine which is why Sigewinne had to intervene with the chocolates. The head nurse didn’t have to physically see the Iudex to tell how much he’s been overworking himself nor was a simple order from her was going to stop him.

So, what better way to disguise a remedy with something simple? Basically akin to administering medication to a pet concealed as a tasty treat

Sexual intercourse was the fastest—and best—way to relieve him of his stress. Sigewinne hoped for the Iudex to pardon her complete brazenness but he was as stubborn as a rock, and took her orders about resting rather lightly.

Naturally, Neuvillette shook his head with a light chuckle, a tinge of interest seeping its way into his skin, “I believe I’ve heard her talk about it but the details must have slipped my mind.” A subtle blush blanketed the Chief Justice’s pale cheeks at the mention of his lover, you. Wriothesley’s lips stretched into a teasing smile—one which the former paid no attention to.

“Well, would you ever try an aphrodisiac?” At Neuvillette’s baffled expression, the younger male bit the inside of his cheeks, biting back a hearty laugh.

“An aphrodisiac, you say? Substances that—” “That increases one’s libido, yes.” Wriothesley cut him off, tease practically dripping from his tone. Neuvillette was a man capable of many things, an esteemed individual once he’s in court but when it came to much simpler matters, the Chief Justice was nothing but clueless, especially regarding human customs that are a bit harder to wrap one’s head around.

“I’m afraid I have no such time for trivial things.”

The Iudex shook his head once more, this time dismissively waving a gloved hand at his friend. He cleared his throat, the blush on his cheeks deepening into a crimson hue—Neuvillette wasn’t going to say it out loud, especially not in front of Wriothesley but he deemed himself more than capable of maintaining his sexual desires and performances, you were enough proof.

Wriothesley left it at that, his friend may just end up as red as a tomato if he prodded around the topic any further. Needless to say, amusement filled him to the brim, “Alright. It was nice chatting with you Monsieur. I believe Sigewinne also left a small note there—”

The latter looked down at the box. Indeed, there was a small piece of paper neatly folded and tucked beneath the ivory ribbon.

“—do heed her letter.” With that, Wriothesley dipped his chin, sauntering over to the double doors.

Reaching for the handle, the Duke stopped in his tracks, he looked over his shoulder, icy cerulean gaze full of mischief, “Oh, and I hope you two enjoy—the chocolates, I mean.” With that, he left the office, leaving Neuvillette to his thoughts.

The day went by rather quickly, the azure skies turning into golden hues of oranges and yellows as the sun bid farewell to its people, disappearing below the horizon. The chocolates from Sigewinne remained untouched on the corner of Neuvillette’s desk, it watched as stars decorated the night sky; though, as the Chief Justice retired for the evening, he grabbed the box of sweets before heading out.

Neuvillette figured he’d share them with you at home.

Greeted with silent darkness, he was suddenly reminded of your words this morning at breakfast: ‘Oh, I have work dinner later, my love; so, I won’t be eating here. We’re celebrating a company milestone.’ Conveniently enough, Neuvillette had already eaten at his office before leaving so he won’t have the pleasure of sitting across an empty seat at the dining table.

Getting ready for the chilly night ahead, Neuvillette changed into his evening attire after taking a warm bath, he donned silken azure pyjamas paired with a fluffy ivory robe. His silver strands cascaded down the length of his spine, the cerulean bow, and golden hair clips he usually wore were neatly tucked away inside his jewellery box.

Situated on the love seat, Neuvillette casually flipped through case documents inside a brown paper folder. The fireplace across him was ablazed with hues of oranges and reds, casting a citrine glow upon the dimly lit living room. As flames danced atop dry wood, the dulcet sound of classical music poured from the record player, filling the space with its tunes.

After minutes of skimming and scanning the documents, he reached for the box of sweets next to his lap, taking time to read Sigewinne’s carefully written note:

Monsieur Neuvillette, I’ve acquired these sweets for you, and her! I figured these would help you loosen up a little so please do not shy away from consuming as much as you want. Make sure to share them with her as well. Enjoy!

Love, Sigewinne

A warm smile spread across Neuvillette’s face, and despite his better judgement of waiting for you to come home and indulge in the taste of chocolate together, he figured one piece wouldn’t hurt to try alone, right?

With the moon high up in the obsidian night sky, you walked down the cobblestone footpath that led closer to yours and Neuvillette’s shared space, the evening breeze gently caressing the apple of your cheeks. Work dinner had just concluded at Hotel Debord which housed a lovely singer who put on a dazzling performance.

By now, the streets of the Court of Fontaine were more deserted as people retired to their homes for the night, shop owners here and there packed away their respective signage, their stores devoid of any customers.

With each step leading closer to home, you soon found yourself in front of your home, keys jingling between your fingers as you unlocked the front door. From the entrance hallway, warm hues greeted you like an embrace, hinting at the ablazed fireplace in the living room.

“My love? I’m home.” You called out to Neuvillette while skilfully removing your shoes, and neatly placed them beside his own.

Met with silence, you figured he either must be occupied with something or must have fallen asleep while waiting for your return. You sauntered over to the end of the entrance hallway, making your way to the living room, and as you got closer, melodic sounds engulfed your senses—you recognized it, Neuvillette’s favourite classical music.

Turning the corner, you were greeted with a rather interesting sight, a wave of concern washing over you, “Neuvi—Are you okay?”

Seated on the love seat was Neuvillette, his left elbow propped on its arm rest, face hiding behind his hand. A deep crimson blush painted his handsome face, intensified by the reds and oranges that the fireplace emitted. He sat there looking flustered, chest heaving up and down as he took heavy breaths. Drinking in the view, you noticed documents sprawled across the empty space next to him but what really caught your eye was the intricately designed box resting on his right thigh.

The box had its lid intact yet the loose ivory ribbon draped over his thigh hinted he had previously opened it. Upon closer inspection, you realised it's familiar packaging, a co-worker had shown it to you the other day, telling you how her and her boyfriend have been dying to try the popular chocolates—chocolates laced with a potent aphrodisiac.

Your gaze made its way back to Neuvillette—who was still breathing heavily on the love seat—now noticing the prominent tent beneath his silken pants, the azure fabric was flimsy and delicate which left little to your imagination. Pushing away the impure thoughts that snaked its way into your mind, you kneeled before your lover with a concerned expression,

“My love, who gave these to you?”

Knowing Neuvillette, he most likely consumed the chocolates without knowing its true contents simply because he wasn’t aware of the trivial things that humans indulged themselves in.

He let out a pained groan, shaky and vulnerable as he shifted in his seat, “Forgive me, ma chérie. This is improper of me.” With trembling hands, Neuvillette covered his throbbing groin, completely embarrassed that you had to see him in such a state. Truth be told, he didn’t know what came over him—a chocolate or two was all he had, and the next thing he knew, his skin burned like a thousand suns as blood rushed down, down, down to his cock.

The very core of Neuvillette’s body churned with desire—carnal desire—and as each second passed, each tick of the ivory wall clock, the uncomfortable yearn between his legs grew. A light sheen of sweat coated his feverish forehead, as though he was experiencing a fever, and whatever this was, it heightened all five of his senses.

From your voice sounding like it dripped with pure honey, all the way to the saccharine scent of your body, Neuvillette was driven mad with lust. It didn’t help how you kneeled before him, and gently caressed his thigh, a poor attempt of comfort because it brought nothing but waves of icy shudders down the length of his spine. Sensitive. His body was completely sensitive to any external stimuli, and if you rubbed his leg any further, he might just come undone.

An embarrassing thought.

Neuvillette was pathetically needy. How preposterous, the high esteemed Iudex of Fontaine reduced to nothing but a lust-driven man eager to shove his aching cock deep in your velvety walls. The subtle buck of his hips against the thick air; the way he swallowed breathless whimpers at your touch; the violent throbbing between his legs, he was beyond irredeemable.

With another grunt, Neuvillette panted out, “Sigewinne gifted them. Wriothesley had delivered it to my office this afternoon.”

Truth be told, you weren’t surprised. At all.

Standing up from your spot, you walked over to the wall phone. You tried your best to ignore the dainty whimper that fell from Neuvillette’s lips as your warm touch left his thigh, you also tried to ignore how his body involuntarily sought you out—trembling hands reaching to chase your gentle hold.

With glassy eyes, Neuvillette watched as you deftly dialled on the phone, he couldn’t help but trace your breathtaking figure, from the square of your shoulders all the way to the curves and dips of your legs. Oh, the things he’d do to spread them open, and inhale your sweet essence like a mad man. Neuvillette could practically taste your honey on his tongue, its velvety texture sliding down his throat.

Another groan escaped your lover at the thought of eating you out, his cock rubbed against the fabric of his underwear as it shamelessly twitched beneath his pants.

“Ah, I didn’t think you’d be calling given the . . . circumstances.” Of course Wriothesley knew. Pure tease dripped from his honeyed voice, most likely paired with a smug smile, and an icy, taunting gaze.

“Why would you give him that?!”

A chuckle from the other end of the line, “First of all, I just delivered the present. Our head nurse here bought it. She’s helping Monsieur Neuvillette out.”

You huffed, trying to make sense of Sigewinne’s motives, “By what? Feeding him chocolates with a potent substance?” You’ve always adored how Sigewinne cared for her loved ones, especially Neuvillette—whatever one’s deal was, she was always willing to help out in her own unique way. But this . . giving him such a substance without any warning felt like foul play, and not only was Neuvillette receiving the short end of the stick, you were as well.

You weren’t naïve, aphrodisiacs only wore off after one has reached their satisfaction through sexual means, like quenching one’s thirst.

“You’re making it sound like we gave him drugs.” “It is drugs, Wriothesley!”

Before you could say anything else, gentle, yearning arms wrapped around your front, caressing your stomach which ultimately caught you off guard. Neuvillette. Nuzzling into the junction of your neck just beneath the telephone against your ear, he placed hot, open-mouthed kisses along your sensitive spot, soft smacks of his lips loud enough for Wriothesley to pick up.

You bit back a moan, free hand coming up to rest on the wall to support your weight. Neuvillette’s kisses had your legs trembling, it left prominent goosebumps in its wake as he trailed further down to your shoulder blades.

“Hm. Looks like it's time for me to go. Pass on my best wishes to Monsieur Neuvillette.” And with that, he hung up the phone.

“My apologies, ma chérie. I just—I need you.” Neuvillette sighed, hot breath ghosting over your bare skin, akin to a gentle caress coaxing you into the borders of lust, like a lone finger protruding from the darkness, beckoning you to its endless, sinful void.

“Love—mhm!” You let out a yelp, his hands finding comfort on the curve of your hips, keeping them still as he slotted his clothed cock between your ass. Neuvillette grinded into you, unshameful and devoid of any decorum. Placing the telephone back on the wall, your nails dug into the hearts of your palms, just the feel of his hard cock had you embarrassingly wet already.

Neuvillette was different from this, despite his sexual urges, he was never forward with you, he took his time—sensual and sincere, treating you like the finest piece of gold to ever exist. But saying you weren’t enjoying his brazenness would be a complete lie. Seeing a different side to your lover put you in a rather sensitive state, almost like a virgin bedded for the first time.

Something primal had awoken deep inside his core, and the only way to handle it was to satiate his carnal thirst.

Nonetheless, you tried to get your point across, “Neuvi . . What you’re experiencing is the effect of an aphrodisiac from those chocolates Sigewinne gave you.”

Your words fell deaf on his pointed ears, instead, Neuvillette mumbled some of his own, “I’m sorry . . Ma belle, I promised you about that challenge but it seems I cannot fight my urges any longer.” Another shaky sigh left his rosy lips.

Challenge? Oh.

Oh.

Even in his lust-driven state, Neuvillette was still thinking about the No Nut November challenge you had proposed earlier this month.

“I’m a man of my word but I need you, my love. Let me break the rules just this once, please?” Pure desperation coated every word that came out of his mouth. It was thick like honey, and melted on your skin like snow. God, at this point the stupid challenge wasn’t even on your mind anymore, not when he desperately humped your ass like an animal in heat—quick, little ruts of his hips that soothed the ache a bit better.

Who were you to deny your lover?

The transition from the living room to the shared bedroom was a blur—everything was hasty; desperate hands exploring each other’s bodies; lips sealed together in a rough, passionate kiss; a trail of clothes messily discarded on the floor leading up to the room. Everything Neuvillette did had you on your toes, completely breathless while trying to mirror his hurried actions.

Normally, Neuvillette would bask in your serene glory, peeling clothes off from your body layer by layer, and decorating your exposed skin with butterfly kisses. He’d gently stroke your hair, slender fingers weaving through the strands as he takes in your bare beauty.

Now, his tongue swiftly explored your mouth—lengthy and thick—something he has never done before. It dizzied you.

You landed on the foot of the plush mattress with a soft gasp as Neuvillette pulled away. Breathless and flustered, you stared up at him through your lashes, soft pants escaping your kissed lips. The sight before him made his cock twitch. How your hair was splayed around your head, mimicking a soft halo, a divine being greater than he.

Neuvillette discarded the last two pieces of clothing—pants and underwear—in one fell swoop, and what came into view undoubtedly had you clenching around nothing. Standing proud and heavy at the base of his abdomen were his cocks, both painted in a deep vermillion hue, and generously leaking pre-cum. The sticky pearlescent substance coated his bulbous tips, it glistened beneath the moonlight, beckoning you to wrap your lips around them, and have a feast.

This wasn’t the first time you saw Neuvillette naked nor were you not aware of his kind but it always brought you shock every time, not to mention the faint cerulean scales the underside of his cocks boasted, it was also his sensitive spot.

Stepping out from the puddle of fabric around his ankles, Neuvillette did the same to your undergarments, mindlessly tossing them elsewhere in the room. A low growl sounded from his chest as he pried your legs apart, his deft hands guided them to bend at the knees while resting the soles of your feet on the edge of the mattress, putting your glistening cunt on full display.

In less than a heartbeat, Neuvillette was on his knees, his eager tongue lapping along the length of your slit, your arousal pooled at the tip of his tongue like sinful honey, the divine taste of your cunt prompting another shameless growl from your lover. He repeated the movement a couple of times, each lick reaching closer and closer to your sensitive clit, and when he finally reached it with his hardened tongue, you let out a surprised gasp.

“Neuvillette!”

Shocks of electrifying pleasure kissed its way up your spine as Neuvillette tongued at your swollen bud—tight, fast circles, up and down, side to side, he toyed with you like it was the only thing he knew how to do. Your hands immediately flew to his ivory tresses due to his ministrations, it was almost like playing a game of tug of war, indecisively pushing and pulling his, unsure if you wanted more or if you wanted him to stop and slow down.

Lewd, wet smacks of Neuvillette’s tongue mixed with his low growls filled the room, allowing you to bask in the sounds of pleasure your lover unabashedly made. Almost akin to a vicious beast swallowing down its prey.

As your back arched off the mattress, and the grip on Neuvillette’s hair tightening, he pulled away, earning a rather disappointed whine to fall from your lips. Sweet arousal abundantly coated his lips and chin, bringing warmth to your cheeks. No one in the room dared to say it but this was the first time your cunt got embarrassingly wet, not that Neuvillette was inadequate in bed per se but you were wetter than usual, and you were confident that he had also noticed.

The glow of his lilac eyes and cerulean feelers were proof enough.

Standing up to his feet, Neuvillette languidly stroked the cock that sat beneath the other one, an immodest gaze raking over your sopping cunt, and how it shamelessly dripped with sticky arousal enough to soil the ivory sheets beneath.

“Are you ready, ma chérie?” Neuvillette’s lilac stare captured you in a haze, absentmindedly nodding at his words as though you were rendered speechless.

He slowly rubbed the tip of his bottom cock before pushing it past your soaked folds, it eagerly swallowed him in—a loud, shameless squelch filling your ears as he stretched you open further. Your toes curled at the sensation, hips immediately bucking into him as you moaned his name. The stretch was a pleasurable burn, one that had you rolling your eyes back, and digging your nails onto the sheets a little harder. Neuvillette was able to easily slip into you, courtesy of the plentiful slick that coated your velvety walls.

Neuvillette stilled as he bottomed out, quick, short pants falling from his rosy lips. God, you always took him so, so well, he could never get enough of the feeling of warmth wrapped around his cock. You took this time to get used to the stretch, your muscles relaxing to lessen the resistance he felt. Neuvillette filled you up so well you could almost feel him in your stomach—a thought that had you clenching around him.

One, two, three seconds later, Neuvillette slowly pulled back, letting out a shaky breath at the pleasurable sensation. And with only his cock head inside you, he took no time to slam all the way inside. You moaned, hands flying to his bare shoulders, immediately marking his pale skin with crimson stripes. Neuvillette unabashedly keened at the clench of your cunt around him, knees buckling as you gripped his cock like a vice, making it harder for him to move in and out.

“Haah! Mhm! Neuvi—right there, my love!” Colourful moans and whimpers urged Neuvillette on, dragging him further and further to the state of insanity. “You feel divine, ma belle . .” The words came out as a choked sob—pathetic and dainty. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead paired with a deep crimson blush that painted his cheeks, if anything, Neuvillette looked absolutely ethereal in this state despite how out of it the aphrodisiacs made him.

Not only were his cocks extra sensitive to touch but he could also perfectly smell the scent of your sex that lingered in the air. That sweet, sinful aroma he knew oh so well.

It made his head spin.

He tried holding back, he really did but your dulcet moans stroked his growing ego, and the feel of your sopping cunt deliciously sliding against him, the last thread of sanity that held him snapped.

Violently.

As if he saw nothing but bright hues of ruby, Neuvillette picked up his pace, long thrusts quickly turning into short ones as he mercilessly pistoned his hips over and over again, allowing his cock head to reach your sweet spot. Your fingers raked down the length of his spine—leaving violent ribbons of red in its wake—stopping right at the dimples of his back, leaving crescent-shaped marks as you dug onto the pale skin there. Neuvillette wasn’t the only one on the brink of insanity with how the underside of his other cock furiously rubbed at your swollen clit with each thrust, it rested at the hood of your cunt, thick and heavy.

“S-so good! It feels so good—ngh!” The thrust of his hips felt amazing, too amazing to the point where your body started to reject them. Your body entered fight or flight mode, parted knees instinctively closing together which only allowed an inconvenient amount of room for Neuvillette to move with.

Upon noticing the change, he slowed down, sweaty palms resting on either knee, “My love—haah . . Open up for me, would you?” Winded and weak, Neuvillette attempted to pry your knees apart to no avail considering his mushy state.

“Too much, mon chérie . . I—I can’t.” Neuvillette shook his head at your words before pulling out, leaving you confused and empty. From the mattress, you watched as he sauntered over to his side of the bed, grabbing a lengthy, obsidian object that rested against his nightstand. Before a question could even formulate in your mind, he returned to his spot in the blink of an eye; though, this time, with something in his hand.

A cane—his cane. The same one he used during court proceedings, in that context, it was deemed a sacred symbolism of his authority as the Iudex of Fontaine.

To use it in such a setting would be borderline blasphemy.

Hovering over your trembling body, Neuvillette placed chaste kisses on each knee, “Do you trust me, my dear?” Was that even a question? Of course you did. He wouldn’t harm you and you believed that completely.

With a soft touch, Neuvillette was able to easily pry your knees apart, the scent of your cunt once again filling his senses. He wordlessly slotted the obsidian cane beneath your knees, its surface cool against your feverish skin, you shuddered at the contrast in temperature. Neuvillette pushed down on the shaft of the cane, bringing your knees closer to your chest—you also noticed how it kept your legs still, meaning you had no option to close them.

You whimpered at the slight burn the position invited, especially with the cane pressing down on your soft skin. And once again, Neuvillette sheathed his cock inside your cunt before setting the same merciless pace. Only this time, you wouldn’t be able to deny him.

“Neuvi! Neuvi! Neuvi—aah! Fuck—mhm!” You held on to the ivory sheets above your head for your dear life as Neuvillette roughly pistoned his hips. With each relentless thrust given, your body jolted further up the mattress, breasts bouncing in full display for your lover to drink in. Oh, how he adored the way your naked body moved and reacted to him, so plush and pliant.

Sharp hisses from the bed frame interlaced with the pornographic sounds of your moans, creating a lewd melody for the moon to witness, a sinful song only for the darkness of the night to hear—full of heat and passion.

“Does—ngh! Does it feel good, my love? Will you give in to the—haah! To the pleasure I’m giving you?” Neuvillette curled over himself, tresses of ivory cascading down to cage your face as he leaned closer to you. Despite the blur of your vision, you noticed the faint azure scales that decorated the side of his neck along with his pupils becoming more animalistic.

Neuvillette’s draconic features only ever made itself known during his heat; so, this came as a genuine surprise to you. Not that you were really complaining.

His hand remained on his cane while the other found comfort on your hip, subtly guiding your body onto him to meet each thrust. Neuvillette met your gaze through a glossy stare, you watched as beads of crystalline-like tears formed on the corners of his eyes, eventually rolling down his reddened cheeks. The sight before you was beyond divine, it wasn’t every day one would see the Chief Justice in such a poor state, his usual expressionless face painted with a colourful expression.

One that unmistakably screamed how lost he was in pleasure: rosy lips parted to let out soft whimpers, brows tightly knitted together, creating a deep crease between his brows.

“Are you close ma chérie? Mhm—aah! Come with me?” Neuvillette breathed out. It took all of his will power to hold himself up, and keep his hips moving due to immense pleasure weighing on his body like a great burden. The feeling had him trembling to his very bones, like a yellow autumn leaf braving the evening winds, and no matter how much his brain screamed at him to stop, he didn’t.

The pleasure would be too great of a loss if Neuvillette stopped now; so, he kept going—pounding, rutting, and grinding into you as he chased both your impending orgasms.

You nodded vigorously, throat too dry from all that panting to choke out any coherent words. The burn of the position you maintained mixed with Neuvillette’s cocks stimulating your cunt sent you into a painful yet pleasurable overdrive.

Without a second thought, you hastily placed your hands between your bodies, blindly seeking out Neuvillette’s other cock, and wrapping your fingers around it. To the best of your ability, you vigorously pumped his shaft, matching your strokes with his thrusts.

Neuvillette shuddered, releasing a loud moan into the damp air. After a few more quick thrusts, he stilled deep inside you, sealing his lips with yours as you both reached your climax, eagerly swallowing one another’s lewd moans. Your back arched off the mattress, toes curling, and fingers digging into Neuvillette’s skin as you violently came, the feel of his thick, hot cum painting your plush walls white had your hips bucking into him, begging for more.

Embarrassingly enough, Neuvillette came a lot. Not only inside you—to the point where it spilled out of your cunt and onto the sheets below—but also on you. The cock you’ve been stroking spurted thick ribbons of cum on your abdomen, abundantly covering your skin in his essence. He looked at the filthy art that decorated your skin, colourful curses enough to make Fontainians gasp in shock filled his mind.

How beautiful you were marked by him.

“Did I hurt you in any way?” He asked, slowly peeling himself away from you. Neuvillette made sure to quickly remove his cane from under your knees, placing it flat on the floor before tending to you. He kissed your sweaty forehead, and pulled your bodies up the mattress with your head atop the fluffy pillows.

“Not at all but I have to say, I was reaaally looking forward to completing the challenge, mon chérie.” You joked, letting out a breathless laugh.

Neuvillette blushed, suddenly remembering how he readily accepted the proposal of your challenge . . What was it again? No Nut November?

“Another year is to be expected, I am determined we will overcome the challenge.” And you were looking forward to that. Very much so. You just hoped he wouldn’t consume another aphrodisiac-laced sweet in the coming year so the both of you could actually complete the challenge.

Well, at least you concluded that Neuvillette and aphrodisiacs weren’t such a bad match, right?

Looks like you had a certain head nurse to thank. —

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curtins · 2 days ago

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BORN TO DIE — Geto Suguru minors dni!

prologue. → it's been three years since suguru left all you had ever known, crumbling it into the fine dust of the earth. a suspiciously timed mission from gojo leads you right into the arms of the man you swore to kill. well, fuck him right?

pairing. geto suguru x afab!reader

warnings+. implied/mild gojo x reader, lovers to enemies, or enemies to lovers, past relationship, injuries, mentions of blood, reader is lowkey violent, some establishing plot idk, geto is kind a jerk (well he's a cult leader so) but hes also down bad, making out, doing it raw and desparate (wrap it before yall tap it!), creámpie etc, minor mentions of infidelity, ríde him until he sees stars trope, minor implied stsg, suguru lowkey a messy slút for this <3 🩵

word count. 4.5k song inspiration. born to die — lana del rey

a/n. heehee

mp3.. my heart it breaks every step that i take, but i'm hoping that the gates, they'll tell me that you're mine

ask to be added to a taglist! likes and reblogs appreciated <3

fuck suguru geto.

literally.

it had been days of you tracking down a mere rumour of curses that haunted this side of the mountain, and you know you're close — close enough to feel the cold prickling along your skin, ripe with cursed energy with that taste of something unnatural and spectral in the air.

gojo had delegated this mission to you, claiming that you had a natural born talent for hunting curses, but you knew the truth was that he had laid on the flattery thick, so that he could kiss you chastely on the cheek, go take a day off, and let you handle this one on your own.

but just as you raise your hand to cast a light, a flash of movement catches your, a fleeting gleam, drawing you off the trail before you even realise where you're going.

you round the grove, and the sight ahead steals the breath from you. through the night's shadows, a pale blue light pulses, illuminating a tall figure whose outstretched hand has already grasped the curse, right into a neat orb.

it would take only a heartbeat to recognise the sorcerer, but you feel as though your heart has leapt into your throat, your blood pulsing under the thin skin, with such dizzying shock. your chest has tightened, and each breath is laced with something sharp and electric — not sadness, nor grief.

anger.

suguru geto.

you swallow against the burning in your throat, his features are half-lit by the eerie glow of his cursed technique, and yet they are sharper than you remembered, refined and all the more hauntingly familiar.

but he's turned, with his raven hair spilling over his shoulders, and violet eyes meet your own, and you scowl as his lips curl up, voice smooth as he speaks.

"hey. it's been a while."

"you...you — fuck you!"

ugh, now it's just embarrassing. you had spent three years, pondering and wondering what cutting words you'd deliver upon suguru geto when you saw him again. and now you can barely get a sputter out without your eyes wandering over him.

geto raises a singularly arched brow, "don't you think we should catch up first?"

"i should kill you," you wonder if your fractured voice betrays how quite literally unravelled you feel right now, like the earth has fallen out beneath you, and you're not sure if you're moving towards him, or taking a step back, "oh my god, i should actually just kill you."

you wonder how you should do it. draw a blade and let it kiss his skin, to see red split out from his throat. or if you just forgo a weapon and push the air from him until his creamy skin is red and bruised.

but he's beautiful, he's so beautiful and it leaves you wondering if this is how orpheus felt when he turned around in that tunnel, and saw eurydice again. if he was also planted in the ground, unable to move at the sight of what his heart most wanted.

the boy who once broke your heart is now a man, draped in robes of deep purple and green, and gold. a man with ghostly eyes that leave you unsure on whether you're furious, or wanting.

still wanting to wrap your hands around his throat, perhaps. you tamp down any other traitorous thought.

"what's your business here?" you manage, and you wonder if he can hear a tremor, and a crack where all that hurt was buried when you were seventeen years old.

but geto just smiles, "you don't think i'd notice the presence of a curse on my own estate? or a jujutsu sorcerer? you've come a long way, haven't you?"

"huh - your estate?"

ah, it hits you, as you follow your line of sight behind geto's head, past the thick trees that you've been wandering in, to where silver rods strike up, out into the dark sky — the roof of what's clearly an important building, the time vessel association.

you cross your arms, "you mean your bullshit cult?" you wonder how quick you can pull out a knife, one of several that you must have taken with you on your missions.

now it's his turn to scowl at you, and a petulant expression dances across his face, but geto doesn't address your barb, "you've come a long way, did satoru send you here?"

you bark out a laugh, "that's gojo to you now."

now he’s right in front of you, and you force yourself not to swallow or betray even a flicker of nerves.

you hold his gaze, determined and unwavering but geto has always been tall, his frame deceptively broad beneath the layers of his robes, but standing this close, you catch the heady scent of allspice and sandalwood, maybe even some ceremonial incense.

"oh, i'm sorry. only you get to call him satoru now, is that right?"

you're not stupid, you know that there's an undertone of a question in his snarky tone, well fuck him. you don't owe him an answer of what your life has been like in the past three years (nor what gojo's has been like, for that matter).

he watches you for an answer, with a face as elegent as an idol in an ancient shrine, pale and luminous against the moon-lit sky. you briefly wonder how a tall, beautiful boy who floated around campus with headphones around his neck, and an obscure band-tee, had managed to peel off his skin and carve himself into something more holy, like a heian-era deity.

"suguru," you finally breathe, and your head feels jumbled and aching. he tilts his head, lips parted, as if he's been waiting for his name to fall from your lips, and he's savouring it.

"come with me," he says simply, gesturing to the shadowed building behind him, and his hand lingers in the air, as his pale, slender fingers reach towards your own, "just this once, you don't have to tell him, y'know."

yes, you know. you should refuse, fuck, you should have been grinding his blood into the earth, for the night has no time for traitors. and if you were to take his hand, it would make you one as well.

oh, how easily suguru geto has always been able to unravel you, and all you've ever known or believed in.

suguru's fingers are like ice as they close around your wrist, with a firm but unhurried grip, pulling you along that makes resistance feel almost laughable.

you try to twist free, but he only glances back, with a teasing smile over his face, "still as defiant as ever," he murmurs, and you're not sure whether your cheeks are flushed from how he's drinking the sight of you in.

"i wouldn't be if you weren't dragging me through this place like some prisoner."

suguru laughs, "is that what you are?" and a dangerous, dormant merriment glints in his violet eyes, "i thought you'd come with me willingly."

his voice is maddeningly calm, as if this was some routine rendezvous, as if he hadn’t walked out of your life three years ago and left nothing but emptiness behind. suguru leads you down a long hallway lined with tall, flickering candles, their dim glow casting eerie shadows across the stone walls. it's so quiet you can hear your own breathing, each inhale tinged with the scent of incense that lingers on his robes.

you give another half-hearted tug against his grip, but his hold only tightens, but he stops, looking down at you, his gaze softening, almost pitying. "save your strength. we’re nearly there. and i need you to behave, and be quiet."

you hate the way your heart races at his touch, at his command, at the intimacy of this shadowed corridor that seems to belong to no one but the two of you.

"and where exactly are you taking me, suguru?" you ask, voice brittle.

"patience. you'll see soon enough."

he leads you forward again, each step echoing through the silence until he finally stops at a large, dark-stained wooden door. his fingers slide away from your wrist, leaving your skin tingling in their absence, and your own fingers curl outwards wanting to reach for his again before you tuck your hand away shamefully.

you can see his smile out of the corner of his eye. he knows this, and more.

but now suguru glances back, his eyes gleaming in the low light. "you came all this way," he says, voice low. "i thought you wanted to catch up."

yeah. catch up.

that's exactly what you'd call it when you barrel through the doors alongside him, and push your mouth against his, hearing the satisfying breath that he draws before he's moving against you too.

you lean into suguru, feeling the heat radiate from his broad body as every nerve in your skin awakens as his lips crash against yours with a fervour that leaves you breathless. it's been three long years since you last felt this, anything, like this and you fight back whatever demon lurches within you — an ode to bittersweet rage, longing and want.

you can taste him in your mouth, a mix of mint and even something sweeter, and it stings you, pricks at every cut he must be leaving over you. but suguru's hands grip your waist, and you wonder if he feels just as you do. but he must, for his arms have pulled you in, anchoring you onto his chest, as if he's afraid you might slip away (just as he had, from you).

you don't know where the tears came from, but salt runs down your cheeks, mingling in with your kisses, and you take a moment to pull away from him, and trace his face with shaking fingers.

"i should hate you," you breathe out, but how can you when he stares down at you as if you've reached into his chest and clawed his heart out. a killer, a traitor, a murderer. but it's still him all the same.

but his lips are now on your face, as his tongue runs over the streaked sorrow, licking it right up, "don't," and now his tone is pleading, suguru geto is pleading above you, "i can't live with you hating me. just let me do this."

he leans into your more deeply and your hands move instinctively, slipping beneath the soft fabric of his robes, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. you explore the contours of his muscles, tracing the lines of his body, every touch igniting a spark that sends shivers through you, makes your own core feel heavy.

it's delicious how his breath hitches as you slide your hand even lower, past the waistband of his pants, right where the hard evidence of his desire is plain, and there's a satisfying rush of power that courses through you at his response, at the breath of air suguru rushes through his teeth in a low keen as he separates yourself from your panting mouth, to trail his soft lips on the sensitive skin lower.

his teeth briefly sink into the juncture of your neck, and you jolt at the brief pain before he runs his tongue over the fresh marks, soothing, hot.

his large hands are both under your top now, moving over the expanse of your stomach and up, up until they cup both your breasts, pinching, and twirling and leaving you slick with the arousal that has gathered at the apex of your thighs.

"so pretty, ah! so - pretty," suguru breathes, and you quirk your lips up as he lowers you slowly to the mat. he'd let you to quite a bare room, with nought in it save for the floor and the walls, but you're honestly content with him having his way with you like this.

you should feel guilty, you should be seeing blue eyes peering up at you from between your thighs, white hair plastered with the sweat of exertion.

but instead, all you see is the twilight sky, brushstrokes of black and dusky violet as suguru takes his place on his chiselled stomach, as you feel the mat press into your shoulder blades while you lay flat on your back.

"stay with me, gorgeous," he murmurs, his breath warm against the skin of your thighs. his plush lips brush against your mound, and you squirm and shake from the need, the need to feel his mouth lower and you cannot help but just arch into him, mewling as he starts drifting his fingers down.

"oh my god, oh!," you're almost embarrassed to be put in this position, moaning like a wanton whore, but you can't just bring yourself to stop, "fuck, suguru. can you please -"

and you're bucking your hips up towards his mouth, begging him to get a hint, and give you a hit of the pleasure that you're so craving.

but suguru stares at you flatly, and then in between your legs almost methodically, like he's waiting for something, and the flat of his palm rests heavy over your clothed cunt.

"i don't think so," he mutters, "tell me something first," and he's playing with the elastic band of your underwear, pulling it to the side before snapping it back, thwack!

"tell me you don't hate me. i need to hear you say it, that you never hated me," and you can feel a new bruise bloom on the inner corner of your thigh from his teeth's ministrations.

"i don't hate you! please, suguru, i could never, ah! -" and you don't get the chance to even finish your sentence before the man is pressing his tongue straight to the damp, translucent patch of fabric that's been soaked with your slick.

his teeth have caught on the fabric deliberately, and he's pulling the fabric, up and up, and the sight makes you so incredibly delirious that you wonder how on earth you're going to recover after this.

and to your credit, his eyes have gone wide, and hazy even — and you enjoy watching him swallow, adam's apple bobbing as suguru seems so entirely pussydrunk, just from you alone.

oh, now you have an idea, and so you pull yourself up and onto him, and he lets you push him down so your positions are reversed. he looks so beautiful like this, dark hair splayed out and falling over his flushed face, as you straddle his thighs, lewdly dripping over his robes as you try to gain some friction from the fabric.

"you're so desparate, baby. didn't think you'd be so — mmph! fuck!" it seems that all it takes to shut suguru geto up is a well-intentioned roll of your hips against his groin, and his hands shoot up to find their place on your waist, rubbing small circles over your hipbones.

you let out a shaky laugh, leaning down to press your lips to his again, "yeah, that's what i thought," and you kiss him, quick and almost outstandingly chaste, and you grin in satisfaction as he leans up again to chase your lips as soon as you separate.

as moonlight spills into the room, you decide to make short work of his robes, reaching underneath the silk to part the fastening, revealing the smooth ripple of muscle underneath, illuminated like godly marble in the silver light. suguru's gaze is fixed on you, his breath shaky and quickening, as he lets you trace your nails lightly over his abdomen.

taking a quick breath, your fingers slide beneath the waistband of his pants once more, and you relish at how suguru's entire body tenses at your touch, his breath hitching, "oh, fuck! right there," as your hands make contact with his cock, feeling the soft skin and the steel underneath. it's large, and heavy in your hands and you gulp, and realise now he's enjoying your reactions.

"there you go, you've had your fun," he breathes out, before shifting your hips back till you're situated right over his cock, "now, let me handle this."

you're barely given a few seconds to catch your breath before he sheathes himself, gliding straight into you thanks to the obscene amount of arousal practically weeping from your cunt, and you keen up at the sky, writhing from the delicious stretch of his wide cock that's made its home in your gummy walls.

"oh, ahh - suguru! wait, let me -," and you shift yourself, groaning as you feel his cock right in the sweetest spots, so you're in his embrace and he gladly envelops his arms around you, bringing you closer and planting desparate, hot kisses on your skin as your nails create crescents in his smooth skin.

suguru seems just as whipped as you are, gone from this mortal plane of the earth and onto a higher level of existence, just from your pretty, tight pussy that's holding him together, "keep doing that, pretty, look how. good. you. take. me."

and each word is punctuated by suguru's hips bullying into yours, pushing his cock deeper and further than you thought you could ever handle, as his mouth pants under yours, "taking it like a fuckin' champ. missed this, missed this so much."

you missed it too, chasing after the feeling of threading your fingers through his soft black locks, feeling him shudder as you scraped your nails down the back of his head,

"yeah, that's it," oh, suguru's always been mouthier like this, when you're sucking up him so deliciously, ramming his hips and angling them in a way that has your abdomen tingling, and has your eyes (and his) seeing stars and the heavens.

he taps his shoulders, where his dark robes have slipped off, revealing the smooth expanse of toned muscle and hot skin, "hands here, baby. keep you steady, yeah?"

and you plant your hands on his chest, determined to swivel your hips in a way that has you gasping for air, and glancing down right where - fuck, where you can quite literally see his bulge through your skin.

"oh, suguru! ah, keep doing that!" you desperately hope that these premises were vacated, for your unrestrained moans must have been rippling through the thin walls, strained and throaty as they bounced off wood.

and you just couldn't pull your eyes away from the sight of him, intoxicating as he was. suguru under you, broad chest heaving as he caught his breath with every rock of your hips — with a flush painting his creamy skin, framed by dark strands of hair that fanned messily around his face, falling in careless waves over his forehead and brushing against his cheekbones.

you couldn't help yourself, curling your fingers in the unruly halo and drawing him up, closer to your face as his crimson-bitten lips parted slightly, clacking around a deep groan.

his mauve eyes lifted away from the swell of your chest once more, hazy with exhaustion, but they softened as they met your own gaze with an almost reverent, quiet awe. even lying there, while you quite literally rode him to hell and back, cunt pulsing against his cock in a way that left you both breathless, he looked at you as if you were some vision, and his rosy-bruised mouth curled again.

"always thought you - hah - looked like a dream," he murmured, his gaze tracing your face as if he were committing every detail to memory, "i used to think that i had forgotten, or tried to forget how beautiful you were, are."

"but now," and he bucks his hips into a steady tempo, a constant allegro, "seeing you here, like this as if you were made for fuckin' me, how could i ever forget?"

his fingers are still under your top, brushing against your spine and you mewl, pressed close enough to him so your breasts press against the hard planes of his chest.

"stay a little longer, yeah?" he whispers, "just let me look at you, fuck! don't think i'd ever be able to stop lookin' at you anyway. can't get enough of you," and he reaches a hand in between your thighs, finding your swollen clit and beginning to run soft circles around it with the pads of his fingers, "don't think i'll ever get enough."

it's becoming too much, the harsh smack of his skin against yours, the feeling of your throbbing clit being showered with white-hot attention from his quick hands, the counter of his dense shaft gliding down your pliable walls, spanning them out until you can feel him so deep within you, "fuck, it's too good - mmph, way too good, i can't -"

you're practically tangled in his arms, in the arms of a man who should have been an enemy, a traitor, one who crumbled all that you held once dear. but his chest rises and falls erratically against yours, and you can feel him heartbeat jump, grounding you in the most unbearable way,

his fingers are now bruising your hips, leaving marks that you're sure (in the back of your mind, somewhere that's still rational) satoru would easily be able to recognise but you can't bring yourself to care.

you can't tell whose tears are staining the fabric of his robes between you, his or yours. the line between the two of you blurs as much as the fog in your mind from the way his cock has driven into you, made its imprint in a way that you'll never forget.

"suguru -" you're wondering if your poor, torn heart will just simply give out now, why is it so hard to breathe? each press of his fingers against your clit has you moaning over the shell of his ear, "i'm close, hah, i'm so close, suguru."

he chuckles weakly, bubbling from him and mingled in with a grunt, "yeah, i fuckin' know. i know." and his soaked fingers are still drawing circles in your sticky arousal that's leaking from you, over his cock, over his robes, dampening the dark trail of hair that coats his groin.

"always been mine." and as he bites your neck, teeth sinking into you, you feel the coil in your abdomen snap! and god, you don't think you could ever go back. not like this.

you can't even imagine the picture you must paint now, lips parted and open as you feel yourself being rocked through your orgasm in a way that leaves you untethered from the earth. how the spasm of your walls must finally trigger his own release, and suddenly he's stiffened too as thick, creamy ropes of his seed find their home in you, "see, mine. always mine, don't go soft on me now, pretty. oh my god, fuck!"

all you can truly do is let him handle you now, let his arms tighten and pull you in as close as possible, so his teeth are tugging on your lips, kissing right into your mouth as you ride out the stars of your own release, tears springing to your eyes once more from the overstimulation, hands digging into the woven mat under him.

later, you lie in suguru's arms, wrapped up entirely in the exhausation (and guilt, oh fuck, the guilt of what you've done) of the world, and everything else feels hazy and irrelevant. the steady rhythm of his breath in small puffs is the only thing grounding you, the warmth of his chest rising and falling against yours. he's tracing soft lines across your back, like he's trying to memorise the feel of you.

"suguru," you whisper, your voice breaking once more on his name, lips close to the damp skin of his neck. you're not sure if you're still crying, or if this is the quietest, most intimate form of surrender that has replaced the weathered storm.

he doesn't speak for a long moment, but his grip has tightened on you, as though he's trying to draw you even closer, like your soul will meld into his, "don't," and his voice is ragged raw, "you don't have to leave just yet."

the quiet desperation in his words cracks your heart, and for the first time in three years, the distance between the man who had become a shadow, and the boy you once knew feels almost unrecognisable.

his face turns toward yours, his eyes searching yours, as if he’s looking for something to anchor him, something to give him the assurance that all the destruction he’s caused, all the distance between you, can still be undone.

but you’re not sure if it’s possible.

you want to say something, anything, but the words lodge in your throat, too heavy and too tangled to escape. you let your hand rest on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart, matching the pace of your own.

"i don’t know if i can stay, suguru," you say, "how can we go back to what we were?"

"then let me make it up to you," he says softly, his voice shaking with a quiet urgency, as though this is the last chance he’ll ever have. "let me show you what i've built here. that you don’t have to leave."

if you stay, you risk losing yourself. you risk losing the anger that you had cherished, and treasured, nurtured and held onto. the anger that had guided you through the world. still, as you meet his gaze, something inside of you shifts. maybe it’s the way his hands slide gently up your back, steady and sure.

"please," he breathes again, his forehead resting gently against yours. "don’t leave. do not do to me, what i should never have done to you."

the moonlight spills through the cracks of the window, and it brings to mind the flicker of bright blue eyes, six eyes, alongside their warmth and steady presence, and you wonder if the earth will swallow you whole for what you've done.

you should never have come here. you shouldn’t have allowed yourself to get caught up in suguru's gravity again, shouldn’t have let him pull you back into this mess of old feelings and broken promises.

suguru's low, tired laugh pulls you from your thoughts, his breath warm against your skin. he pulls back slightly, his dusky eyes gleaming with something you can’t quite place — a spark of surprise, maybe amusement, even a little mockery, but there is no lie in his eyes.

"satoru?" he says, the name slipping from his lips with a touch of disbelief. "you really think he hasn’t visited me in the past three years either?"

#jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #geto #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto #suguru geto x reader #geto smut #geto suguru smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #works #getou suguru

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ennn · 1 day ago

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Unpacking the Deals of Ep 8: Why and What They Mean

So episode 8 is... let's say a bit of a mess. I know there's some confusion around why Agatha proposes her terms for the first deal, why Rio flipped into cackling villain mode, why Rio makes another deal, etc.

Here's my read that hopefully helps draw a line from point A to B to C.

Let's consider the context of the first deal: Agatha's not having a good day. Two coven members who Agatha never expected to care about have died trying to protect her – a thing that has never happened before. And Death happens to be a person she can blame.

Death, who is pressing on that bruise ("Your coven is shrinking") and making her shitty day worse because she wants the kid Agatha is hardcore projecting on (and also didn't plan to care about) to die. Just like Nicky.

But Agatha then realises she has leverage on Rio. For the first time in forever, she has an advantage she can exploit. She can be in control.

And it's almost instinctive for Agatha at this point: finding the best buttons to push, the best terms for her given the opportunity.

Agatha: If I deliver Billy, you let me go. Rio: You will eventually die, Agatha. Agatha: But I want you to stop pursuing me. I want you to stop making my life hell. And when I die, a long, long, long, long, long time from now, I don't want to see your face. Rio: ... Okay.

The terms that Agatha sets out seem cruel because they are. She says what she does because she wants it to hurt. Agatha's not only rejecting Rio's continued presence in her life, she's denying all the love that Rio's given her, building on what she's said before ("You gave me nothing.")

From Rio's POV, Agatha's cutting words aside, this entire deal sucks. Because the options are:

(a) Agatha doesn't hold up her end, which Rio knows might happen: Rio knows Agatha cares about Billy ("I know how you feel about him"). Rio's constantly reminding her he's not Nicky. She was already doubting Agatha would deliver her usual number of corpses. She saw how affected Agatha was after Alice's death.

If Agatha doesn't help, she'd be choosing a boy over everything Rio's done again – and this time another woman's.

And if Rio somehow manages to take Billy anyway, Agatha will end up hating her twice forever.

(b) Agatha does hold up her end, which might also happen: Rio knows Agatha's manipulative and smart and capable. More than that, she's well aware Agatha hates her. That Agatha still doesn't see what she's done for her ("No one in history has had special treatment like you").

That she knows Agatha does care about Billy but maybe hates her so much that she's willing to go through with this to cut her out from her life. Billy would be a dear price but one Agatha's maybe willing to pay.

Even if it was a 50:50 chance for these options, I think Rio realises her relationship with Agatha is doomed either way.

Either way she does her job, with or without Agatha's help, she's going to be rejected and lose. One's just a slower path than the other.

I think that's why Rio gives in to her rage and bitterness and spite. Agatha thinks Rio's been making her life hell? She'll show her hell.

And Agatha, well I think there's some merit to the thinking that she didn't expect Rio to fold that quickly and completely.

Now for the context of the second deal, it's not clear whether Rio knows what happened with Tommy. I assume Rio doesn't – not yet anyway – as she doesn't mention it at all and seems focused on squaring that one life Billy stole.

Now here's where it gets a little squirrely, to borrow Schaeffer's language. Because if you don't look too closely, it seems to make sense: Billy stole a life so to maintain the natural balance, Rio needs to take a life, the one Billy has now.

But how does Agatha's life work as a substitute for this imbalance (“This means you’re coming with me”)? Would any other person’s life work? Could Rio have swapped someone else's life to save Nicky then? Agatha would have been all too happy to arrange for that murder.

I doubt the show is ever going to explain this so I offer few possible theories to deal with this weirdness:

Billy Maximoff is a product of chaos magic, so his existence and everything he affects already throws off the natural order, just to different orders of magnitude. Agatha’s life works as a substitute because his life is now intertwined with hers e.g. his hex probably saved her life from the Salem Seven and has the potential for greater imbalance

Rio is aware of Agatha’s tendency towards chaos and defiance of the natural order. Rio bent the rules of the universe only for Agatha. Taking her life would protect the balance in the larger scheme of things – if only so Rio won’t be further tempted to give her special treatment.

When Rio’s torturing Agatha it’s before she presents the second deal. So she’s still intending to go after Billy, she’s just removing Agatha as an obstacle while lashing out in rage and heartbreak.

In this moment Rio probably thinks Billy's in the wind. She saw how upset Billy was with Agatha at the end of episode 5. And Rio knows the reputation Agatha keeps ("Why do you let them believe those things about you?"), Rio probably thinks Agatha deliberately drove him off to keep him safe.

Then Billy pops up and Rio sees that Billy and Agatha care about each other and they're both aware they care about each other.

Fuckin’ great. Rio's not bitter at all.

Looks like you two are finally on the same page. So I'll let you decide. One of you stays with me. The other walks free.

Agatha proposed a deal designed to hurt her? Now it’s her turn.

From Rio's POV, I think here are the possible outcomes:

(a) Agatha sacrifices herself for Billy: Not impossible I think. Rio knows Agatha cares about the boy but she also knows Agatha will do anything to survive. She thinks she's above death. But again, I think Rio also knows Agatha would have sacrificed herself for Nicky if she had that choice.

What did Lorna want from the Road? To save her daughter.

This isn't an ideal outcome for Rio but she’s already resigned herself to losing Agatha I think, one way or another. This way if Agatha wants Billy to live so badly, this is the price she has to pay. The high cost of living.

(b) Billy steps up and sacrifices himself: Very possible given that Billy’s a young heroic sort and already showed up, risking his life to power up Agatha. Rio gets to do her job. Agatha will probably hate her more given the Nicky trauma but Rio’s already resigned to this on some level already, which is why she's raging.

Either way Agatha's going to hurt, and Rio's going to hurt.

It's interesting that when Billy does volunteer himself and Agatha seizes the opportunity to remind Rio of their earlier deal, Rio just shakes her head and looks amused.

You can also see for a brief moment Agatha looking almost remorseful about doing this before slipping her theatrical villainous mask on, overcompensating for her true feelings.

Do you remember pain? It kinda tickles doesn't it?

By the letter (not the spirit or intent) of the first deal, Agatha did ultimately fulfil her part:

I can arrange that. I can get him to the finish line and deliver him to you.

This is an opportunity that's almost impossible to resist for someone as calculating and ruthless and selfish like Agatha. She has power (chaos magic no less), she can have Rio leave her alone forever (she knows Rio honours her word), she knows Billy cares about her but can she really trust him?

But Agatha ultimately decides to take a risk. A calculated one sure, but still a risk.

I think the beauty in the kiss and her sacrifice is how – despite her calculating the odds – Agatha is choosing to give in to what she feels and wants in that moment.

Because she does want to protect the boy in a way no one did for her when she was young. She wants to save Billy like she couldn't with Nicky. And she does want Rio so much despite everything that's happened.

#agatha all along #agathario #agatha x rio #rio vidal #agatha harkness #tv: agatha all along #ship: vidarkness #aaa meta #i did it #boy this sure was some work

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senseandaccountability · 7 hours ago

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the narrative that could have been

Having mulled over the game for a couple of days I have realised that the main problem for me is that Veilguard is good based on the premises they ultimately choose, but not based on the set up and promise of what was there before. I know this isn’t a unique take by any means and yes it’s all about the Evanuris and the Veil and Solas.

Replaying really emphasises how incredibly little the game convinces me of its original main quest - to prevent Solas from doing his ritual. This is a problem as a long-term player because for three games we’ve had build up for a great crescendo tackling the overarching themes of the (restrictions and oppression of) magic, of tears in the Veil, of religious tyranny and oppression based on myths about the Black City and the temptations of flawed humans, we’ve seen and deconstructed the elves quite a bit, we got started on the dwarves and in DAI your Inquisitor can openly ask Solas if it wouldn’t be better if the Veil came down because then spirits wouldn’t be separated from the living and risk becoming demons. Cole, whose function is to reflect the plot, talks endlessly about the old songs wanting to be sung again, about how it hurts to be cut off from part of yourself, how the templars feel it, how the mages feel it, how the elves and the dwarves feel it. The Veil as a prerequisite for life has been deconstructed, the Fade demystified, the gods have mostly fallen. The Veil as an actual wound inflicted on this earth has been presented as a theory and not been convincingly rejected by the narrative.

The game actually gives no explanation whatsoever as to why the Veil coming down would be worse than what Rook causes in the beginning and what the escaped gods then do to the entire Thedas. The entire south falls to the Blight because Elgar’nan and Ghilan'nain are let loose. The Wardens are more or less wiped out. There’s enormous political turmoil. The game gives us Solas saying “thousands” would die when he brought the Veil down, but that he had a host of spirits there to help. (Yes, I know, his sole function in this game is to Trick and Deceive so who is to say if he’s lying, HUH, but even so, THE ENTIRE SOUTH FALLS TO THE BLIGHT IN ROOK’S VERSION OF THINGS.)

The game puts emphasis on Solas's questionable methods and past horrors but it doesn't ever explain why his goals are despicable here and now. It doesn't convince us that tearing down the Veil with lots of safety measures in place and after considerations is a bad result, all things considered - save for Varric’s initial yelling about demons. (We even learned in DAI that the Veil itself creates demons because it restricts the passage of spirits, come on.) Because three games have suggested it's not, not ultimately. Trespasser especially nuances this, just as it nuances Solas’s view of this current world state. Right after his long nap he would have nuked it all, I’m sure, but the whole point of character arcs is that things happen in them and what happened to him is that he was shown layers and angles he had not considered and adjusted his mindset and ultimately his plan accordingly. That is where DAV should have picked it up. That's where the build up was headed. But, now he must serve the narrative solely as the God of Treachery and Lies which means that previous build up is washed away for the most part. (In no way do I think he is OOC in DAV, I just want to point that out so nobody thinks I’m a sappy fangirl or whatever. I think he is perfectly in tune with his inner Dread Wolf, but that is also all he gets to be, because of the narrative, and I’m always much more interested in when roles and personas clash.) Again. The main problem is that the narrative cannot explain why bringing down the Veil would be the worse option than the shit we see unfold on screen. Instead it gets a bit lost in the past. And I have Issues with that, as well. Like, the dumbing down of the war against the Evanuris. The war that started because the leaders of the rebellion - who previously had to carry out terrible orders so the Evanuris, the upper crust of the Elvhenan, could play gods - decided that the Evanuris was a threat to them all. And the game gives us what, a depiction of how the rebellion ended up crossing lines, too? No shit.

Like, I am fully on board with the individual theme of regret on Solas’s part and he ought to be wrecked with guilt but I wish the game could be less all over the place with what sort of things he ought to be wrecked with guilt over. Saying fuck you to the Evanuris is the best and brightest of his character, I suppose I just don't want it dragged down to the same level as him breaking the Titans. I suppose I would have wished for a narrative that also worked on a systemic level when depicting things like, you know, war and revolutions and subjugation. But we don't have that, because DAV is only about personal choices. The Lighthouse crew flippantly writing the hierarchical and violent power struggle off as being about love and betrayal is on my shitlist forever.

No, Taash et al, it was not about pussy, it was about feeling compelled by superiors to commit heinous war crimes and being lied to about the actual purposes of your damn war in the first place. The elves shouting at Elgar’nan and Mythal in this painting aren’t driven by love and sex they have been lied to by their ruling class. It was never about freedom or ending the wars, it was always about Elgar’nan jerking off to ultimate godhood. The writing even suggests betrayal here is to be understood as Netflix drama betrayal, maybe some juicy porny plot but it’s ABOUT THE BETRAYAL OF THE ELVES BY THEIR OWN KIN. ((ETA: I would have wanted my Dalish mage to be allowed to be furious, NOT WITH SOLAS, but with the fucking Evanuris for betraying her people and being so fucking vile that the only option that remained was to create a world where she's a second-class citizen. I would have wanted the game to recognize that not all causes are equal and that Elgar'nan's cause for godhood was objectively more vile than Solas's cause for freedom because as it stands now, there are some really iffy vibes of "both sides are equally bad" and other things authorities tend to say when comparing destructive regimes with uprisings.)) I’m sorry, this shit hits me on a personal and political rage level.

I also can’t help but mourn a game where the Trickster God fulfilled his trope’s duty and shook the stagnation apart with his actions - for good or ill, the way trickster gods are wont to do - and where Rook was tricked into helping and then, a more complex game about its consequences could have unfolded. The Evanuris could still have been the bad guys, if they wanted big villains frothing at the mouth. There could still have been numerous unplanned consequences, like all of Solas's plans have. Maybe other ancients awake as well. Maybe ancient evils who aren’t elves, who knows. Point is - the Veil should have come down, at least in some form, at least in some outcome. THAT is what they've been building up to. In this game that never was, Rook could be an actual interesting character where we could mold her as either accepting of this trickster role (which fits perfectly for a blank slate with no ties) or set to overturn it and enforce status quo, with some vanilla option in the middle. Maybe the Veil doesn’t come down until the very end of the game, ancient magic takes time after all, maybe a lot has happened by then. But ultimately, Rook’s choice in the end should not have been about siding against Solas because he’s lying to you or because he did horrible things in the past or siding with him because you want him redeemed. The narrative should have provided those options either way. The narrative should have been brave enough to suggest that hey, maybe Solas isn't wrong at all - his methods maybe, but his goal, no. If they truly wanted mirrors between Rook and Solas, Rook should have tackled the issue of actively bringing down the Veil herself, not because it's a roses and sunshine-outcome but because it might very well be the lesser of two evils. Gods, that would have been interesting. It should have been a choice about what sort of world Rook and the Veilguard wants to see in the future. It should have been about the people, the world, not how angry Rook is that an ancient elf has tricked her.

That would have been the game I wanted to play. This story doesn't really give anything new to the world of Thedas, which a world without the Veil would have. It accomplishes closure for our favourite trickster god and bless them for that, but as for the plot and the world-building it ends on a meh because the narrative isn't about the people unless they're brought up as being endangered. This is why I can feel satisfaction regarding the thematic conclusion to certain character arcs, the trickster becomes the healer with the bloodiest hands, the wolf submits willingly to his trap and so on and so forth, and I can have fun with the characters and their arcs but also really mourn the game that was there, in subtext and build up over three previous games and in several tie-ins.

#salty on main #datv #datv spoilers #solas dragon age #datv critical

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rosenclaws · 3 days ago

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Oh boy! First of all-congratulations!! You're doing such wonderfull job! And I love your work ❤️ I have 2 promts if you don't mind. Just pick the one you like better and feel more comfy to write (boths are fluff couse im sucker for fluff)

1. Leopold Mountbatten “If only you could see yourself the way I see you, because, holy shit, you’d realise how much I’ve fallen for you.” + countryside/fairytale?

2. Wolverine with simply comforting him after really nasty nightmare when he's calling his...mama in his dreams to comfort him? (Idk i always wanna hug this poor baby)

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ love youuu

Chance || Leopold Mountbatten x Reader (Fairytale AU)

“If only you could see yourself the way I see you, because, holy shit, you’d realize how much I’ve fallen for you.” + Fairytale AU

wc: 1.9k (OOPS)

a/n: Hello!! I love both of these prompts so much I'm gonna write both! This is prompt one! I also got carried away and it turned more into a oneshot oops!

As a child you dreamed of being a princess. Looking up at the big castle from your small bedroom in the attic. Your head was full of silly things. Dreaming that one day you'd be there in a pretty dress with a handsome prince. Growing up you the day dreams would follow you. People found you strange, always catching you humming and singing. You were far too kind, too generous.

Eventually reality had caught up with you. You were a peasant and the cruel children of the nobles made sure you knew it. They treated you like dirt. Like you were nothing, not even worth a second glance. Your dreams were slowly crushed. It was a harsh truth to swallow but then your mother died and you were left to take over the seamstress business as only a 16 year old.

Soon the only remnants of your childhood hopes only existed when you dreamed. They were silly anyways, you told yourself that as you went to work day in and day out. Thankfully work was flourishing.

The announcement of ball in the palace spread like fire. This prince was to be there and he was meant to be married soon. The ball was clearly a chance to meet the prince and impress him. The excitement was clear. Though they treated you poorly even the noblest of people couldn't deny that you were the best seamstress in all of the kingdom.

Orders upon orders flooded your small shop. Beautiful ballgowns that you could never afford in your wildest dreams. You couldn't help but feel the expensive fabric as you worked. Sometimes your mind would drift back to your old fantasies but you snapped yourself out of them. With only weeks away before you were panicking thinking of all the work you had to do.

When the bell of your shop rang one day you were ready to decline whoever had entered. Except when you looked up you were met with a very handsome man. He had a massive tear in his expensive looking coat and a nasty bruise under his eye.

"Sir! Are you alright?" You rushed to his aid. A sweet but pained smile on his face.

"My apologies, My name is Leo." He bowed his head and put his hand to his chest.

"I do not wish to inconvenience you but I am afraid I had no where else to go."

Leopold didn't meant to cause you any trouble. In fact he meant to lay as low as he could. The castle was boring him to death and the pressure of the royal ball was becoming too much for him. He just needed some fresh air. So he snuck out and spent the day in the town. Though he was to be king he was sheltered all his life and he made the mistake of wandering into the wrong part of town.

His clothes made him stick out amongst the crowds. When he saw two men threatening a young shopkeeper he jumped into action. He's skilled with a sword but with his fists he is not as trained. Leaving him with a bruise he wouldn't know how to explain to his father.

Still they left the shopkeeper alone but now he didn't know what to do. Stumbling into your shop by chance. You were, gorgeous. He watched you as you fixed his jacket and took care of his eye. Your hands were gentle and your smile was so sweet. But most shocking was that you had no clue who he was. No special treatment or fake words. He longed for this.

"Please, let me pay you for your services." He offers, though he has no money on him now he will pay you back.

"Nonsense, I'm happy to help." He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles.

"Thank you darling, I promise I will repay your kindness." The bell tower chimes and he knows he's running out of time. He must return home.

"Goodbye." He hurries out of your shop and you watch him go. A small frown on your face as you hope to see him again one day.

To your shock he returned the very next day. With more money than necessary in a fancy pouch. You refused to take any of it. Despite his protests he eventually relented. Instead he asked to help. Leopold wasn't the best with sewing but he would watch his mother do so all the time. The orders were looming over your head and you did need the help.

You grew closer, learning things about Leo as you worked. He was kind, a true gentleman and he loved to draw. While you worked you told him about your life. Smiling through the stories of your mother, through the childhood hardships. When Leo would prick his fingers you would always patch him back up.

The weeks flew by until it was the day before the ball. As you handed our your orders you couldn’t help but be overcome with sadness. Not for the ball but for the worry that Leo would stop coming once your orders were finished. The door chimes and you perk up as you see Leo.

“Hello, I’m afraid I have nothing left to work on.” You tell him sadly.

“That is alright. I did not come for the work.” There's a hint of nervousness in his eyes as he sits on a stool.

“Are you going to the ball?” He asks and you laugh sadly.

“No, The ball is not a place for someone like me.” Leo’s eyes sadden and he moves closer to you.

His hand cupping your face gently. His piercing hazel eyes are enchanting. Like a spell you never want to wake up from. You were falling in love with him.

"You could accompany me." He offers. Biting his lip as he prays you say yes.

This is what he wants, not someone who only wants him for his title or because he's the prince. He wants something real, something meaningful and that's what he has with you. At least he prays you feel the same way.

“Leo I-“

“My prince! What on earth are you doing here?” A royal guard barges through the doors and you take a step back. Eyes wide in shock as you process what you’ve just heard.

“Prince?” Leopold looks guilty as he tries to stammer out an explanation. They must have followed him. He hadn't been subtle with his adventures and it looks like they finally found him.

“Darling I apologize I-“ The guard grabs him by the shoulder, forcing him out of the shop despite Leo’s protests. He's calling your name, trying to fight the guards but to no avail.

You’re stunned to silence as you watch him leave. The prince? This whole time he was the prince. You closed your shop and spent the rest of the night upstairs. It’s not fair.

You thought you had something special. That you didn’t need the fairytale life when you had Leo but it turns out it was all a lie. Was this simply a game to him? Bored of the castle so he decided to toy with the life of a peasant? You were utterly heartbroken.

The ball passes and you choose to ignore any talk of. Leo doesn’t return and it’s for the best as you reopen your small shop. Business was slow and people went back to treating you like dirt.

It was a rude wakeup call from the last few weeks with Leo but those were in the past now. There’s a loud knock at your door and you choose to ignore it. The shop is closed today.

Still the knocking persists and you become fed up. Such rude behavior! You walk downstairs only to find Leo at the door. You open it and usher him inside before anyone else can see him.

“What are you doing here?” You ask harshly. He seems taken back for a moment.

“I came to see you.”

“Well what can I do for you my prince.” Your voice is void of any emotion as you address him. Even looking at him is painful now and as upset with him as you are he is still your soon to be king.

“Don’t. Don’t call me that please.” He hates it. He is your Leo.

“I am so deeply sorry for not telling you my true identity but I was afraid. You saw me as someone normal and I wanted more.” He tries to explain.

“So what? Was I just a plaything to you? A mirage of normalcy that you were going to drop the second you got bored?” You ask with tears in your eyes, anger flooding your senses.

“No! Never. Please you have to understand it started as an escape but the more I time I spent with you the more I longed to be by your side. You're what I want darling.”

You are the moon and the stars that light his path, the breath of fresh air. Leopold met you by chance but now that he knows you he cannot let you pass him by.

“Do you even know what you’re saying? You are the crowned prince. You will be King. I am nothing compared to your status, your position and to tease me with such a life is cruel!" Leopold can feel his heart breaking at the sight of your tears.

"My love," He cups your face and wipes away the tears.

"Please, do not cry." He presses a gentle kiss to your lips. You close your eyes as you try and commit this moment to memory. What its like to be held by him, to have his lips on yours.

“If only you could see yourself the way I see you, because, you’d realize how much I’ve fallen for you.” He confesses. Your heart leaps, his eyes shine with sincerity as he ghosts his lips over yours again. Silently begging for another kiss.

"Leo..." You want him, you want to give in but there's so much in your path.

"Don't think about it, just focus on me. I love you. Status means nothing to me when all I want is your love. So please, make me the happiest man in the kingdom." He lets go of your face and kneels down. Revealing a box with the prettiest ring you had ever seen. He was serious about this. He wants no one else by his side for the rest of his life.

"Oh Leo, Yes yes yes!" You grab his face and smash your lips to his, Leo groans as the kiss deepens. You're desperate and apart of you is afraid to open your eyes, wondering if he'd disappear when you do. He wraps his arms around you and dips you down. Lips moving in sync as you get lost in each other.

"I love you, I love you, I love you." He whispers as he peppers kisses along your jaw. He's your prince, your childhood dream coming to take you away. He slips the ring onto your finger and you bask in its beauty.

"I love you too Leo." He grins so wide it makes you forget all your worries.

His eyes so full of love and hope that you decide you'd follow him anywhere. Hand in hand he whisks you away, promising to love you forever and you believe him. Your dreams were coming true and you couldn't be happier it's with him.

Your prince, your hope, your love.

#leopold mountbatten #hugh jackman x reader #leopold mountbatten x reader #kate and leopold #600 followers

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callivich · 2 days ago

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33 and 62

Hi Anon!

Social Media (AU) + Gardening/Hobbies

———

Ian runs an instagram account called the gingergardener where he posts gardening selfies and plant related videos. He’s got a good following but he’s not stupid, he knows that some of his pictures get more likes than others. Particularly any of the ones during the summer where he gardens in a tank top and shorts.

Mickey sure as shit isn’t into gardening but somehow (searching for hot redheads) he’s been recommended the gingergardener and he’s becoming a little bit obsessed. And even worse, he thinks he recognises the allotment Ian gardens in. It’s definitely on the South Side. But Mickey’s not a creep. He’s not a stalker. He’s just….interested. So he regularly checks Ian’s instagram.

And it’s fine. Until Ian stops posting. Which is weird because he’s always posting. A few days go by. And a few more. And Mickey’s starting to get….worried. As are other people in the comments of Ian’s posts. How can this guy just disappear?

Mickey does something he probably shouldn’t….he goes by the allotment. Just to see. After all, what if Ian was lying murdered in his tomato plants or some shit? Mickey is just a concerned citizen.

It’s clear Ian hasn’t been by in a while. His plants aren’t looking good. The fucked up thing is, Mickey now knows what to do to save them. All of Ian’s videos, some of which he’s watched over and over again, have taught him something. So he does what he can. It’s not great but hopefully they’ll be something still left alive when Ian returns. If he ever does.

It’s weeks later when Ian posts again. He apologises for disappearing and gives a vague explanation of being unwell. He’s teary eyed as he thanks the mysterious person who has kept his plants alive all this time. He asks them to get in touch so he can thank them personally.

Mickey is stunned. He thought Ian would be freaked out by someone gardening for him. As he watches the post again, numerous people in the comments are taking credit and asking Ian to meet in person. Everyone starts arguing amongst themselves and Ian eventually turns off the comments.

Mickey thinks about messaging Ian but realises it’ll probably look like one of the other people who are lying. So he goes one last time to the allotments and leaves a note saying that he’s a fan of Ian’s instagram and that he accidentally realised where the allotment was and that he doesn’t know why he did it but he’s glad Ian and his plants are ok.

Ian secretly sees Mickey leave the note. When Mickey leaves and he reads it, Ian is touched….and curious about the handsome stranger……He decides he’s going to try and find him…..

———

Ask me -> Fanfic Trope Mashup

#gallavich #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #ian x mickey #calli talks #prompt

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vinjinssunglasses · 2 days ago

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♯┆summary; With the mention of a rebellion against your lover and a third party mysteriously arising in the midst of a war, Haruto’s home life.. All piling upon themselves, worry after worry. The last thing you want is bloodshed.

♯┆ tags; established relationship, implied child abuse/neglect, canon divergence,

♯┆ w/c; 3.8k

♯┆ a/n; plot-heavy, somi park training arc 😭 help im so tired

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That night you rested in his loving arms, his hair draping over your body. No matter how gentle he were, singing you sweet lullabies when he realised you were still awake, your body simply refused all efforts to relax.

Stress has taken over your mind, and it’s as if your not the one in charge if your body. Has anything even changed? Everything you did seemed futile. Whats the point of even trying anymore?

Your turned your body more into his warm chest, and tried to forget everything. Clear all these useless thoughts, push them to the back of your head and finally let your mind relax. They crawled from the pit you banished them to and caused trouble as if to taunt you.

What did Shintaro mean that day? Rebellion. Shingen, pronounced dead? There’s a reason why he’s the leader, have they all forgotten? Deep down you know he will remain undefeated, yet the thought of him paralysed on the floor, crimson blood pouring out of his body gnaws at you. What would his last words be? Why, what, when, who — is it just impossible for you to rest easy?

Shouldn’t you tell Shingen? Sitting up, his hand draped from your waist to your thighs, and he wearily blinked awake.

“What’s the matter? Can’t sleep again?” Shingen muttered, half-asleep.

“Yeah. I’m going to go get some fresh air and a drink. You go back to sleep, alright baby?” You placed a kiss upon his forehead, and he rested against the pillow once more, taking your word.

The cold breeze of the night calmed you only a little as you walked towards the kitchen. Stars and moon alike, you watched as they formed detailed constellations upon the sky — one of a knife and a moon. That reminded you: Shingen would always call you his star, and you’d call him your moon. His favourite inanimate thing was the moon, shining brightly at night and disappearing by day. He’d say it’s represent him as youth, however not going to deeply into it. Shingen’s expression whenever it came up in conversation were.. unusually troubled. As if it haunted him and had to shut it out for years, just for it to reappear when he least expects it.

It made you wonder what happened, who made him this way? If anything, you wanted to seek revenge, and yet you couldn’t.

Rules must’ve stopped him from falling in love with you in the first place, just like how rules are stopping you now. If it wasn’t so frowned upon, you would’ve taken uo marital arts and higher education. Being born into this life stopped you from being you, stripping you from your talents to being in a uniform, dystopian society called impossible expectations that we name as the ideal life for women and those alike. Same with Gun, your only son, becoming a slave to this system.

Letting out a sigh you didn’t realise you were holding in, you carefully slided open the door, revealing the room you were so used to seeing. Leaning against the counter, taking steady small sips while sneakily opening a tablet of sleeping pills, you could only hold your head in your hand. You’d be damned if anyone realised you snuck in pills like these, yet you needed them. You hated the fact you needed them. Each time you swallowed it down your throat, it only reminded you how you were so dependent on this clan. Having your families reputation boosted this way was the only way to recover it in the first place, realising how much they’ve messed up everything.

You cursed under your breath, and a headache came upon you. It must be from all these unwanted thoughts reappearing.

“I see you’re up late.“ A familiar voice echoed in your ears and you turned to look at the tall figure, Shintaro. Worst timing. You were only wearing a small nightgown, you were dressed too informally to be met with someone of upmost authority. Undeserved authority. Rules were the only thing he cared about. Setting aside his own emotions and others morals, he made sure everyone fit into this idolised society. Its was as if it were our fault we were born and raised into this life. The way he re-enforced these problematic beliefs were like it were law, despite not abiding to the real law in the first place, resorting to violence when and whenever he pleased. His manipulative tactics made it seem as if he were a befitting leader for the clan, drawing everyone in with the whip of his fan and his smooth tone of voice. Shintaro’s undeniably astounding looks have him the upper hand, even the other ladies from other clans chattered amongst themselves when they found out weren’t married yet, flirting with him whenever the opportunity arises. As they say, ‘you should marry into power and wealth.’

It wouldn’t be wrong to say they gained and admired Shintaro more than Shingen’s leadership. Shingen may be blinded at times, yet he had the brain capacity to understand complex situations and arise new rules and regulations when change were necessary. He weighed the benefits for the people, always upholding them as first in his mind, as they were to live peacefully under his guidance. On the other hand, Shintaro twisted the rules to fit his own narrative, manipulating them as to seem Shingen made it this way, to seem as it were his fault the Yamazaki were so divided. You didn’t trust him and avoided all communication and conflict, as he’ll make them turn from you too. It was no use anyway — they already wanted your head on a pitchfork.

“Yes. My apologies for any disturbance I’ve caused, I’ll go back to my room—“

“Wait.” Shintaro started, taking slow steps towards, gazing down upon your avoidant one. The moonlight cast shadows over the room, completely still, and you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. Every ounce of your being anticipates his next move, and your breathing stopped.

“Why won’t you rebel? Can’t you see we’re all unhappy under his rule?” His hand lifted to rest upon your shoulder, the force crushing your collarbone just enough not to break it. The knife was sitting there in its rack, and it felt as if it were staring at you, begging to picked up. If this were to go on, he may as well break your shoulder.

In one swift motion, you ripped the knife out of its rack, its sharp end reaching his lips, glistening in the moons radiance.

“Didn’t you hear me the first time? Unless you want your head splattered on this floor for me to clean up, I don’t want to hear another word.” Stern, serious and strict. Underneath this facade, you were shaking. Knife trembling in your fingers, you upheld your scrutinising gaze, watching as his hand fell to his sides. Shintaro didn’t want to admit that he saw Shingen in your eyes, the same look he gave him that day. The same strength that beat him once before was in you. It dawned upon him that you may have the ability to become as strong as Shingen one day, however that was only a meaningless hunch. Someone like you is simply just a joke.

“I could make you my wife, and give you everything you’ve ever wanted. Unlike him, who only disappoints this clan. Why would you want a leader like him? Talk to the people of this clan, wouldn’t you?” Grasping onto the knife, Shintaro pointed it towards the ground gently.

“Didn’t I say I didn’t want to hear another word from you?”

“One last chance. I’ll give you one, last chance.” He swerved in closer, breathe cold against your ear. Gripping onto his collar, you shivered, pulling him away.

“Get out of my sight, you hear me? Next time, I’ll delve this knife into your throat.” You growled, the thought of it all making your blood boil.

Shintaro sighed, accepting that boneless threat as an answer. “Fine, as you wish.” Yet you knew this wouldn’t be the last time he would do this. Having you in his side would make one less corpse to clean up, and an easier way to excuse the bloody murder he were scheming.

The two of you exchanged one last glance, and the tension eased as you were left alone to your own thoughts. All this time you avoided troublesome matters like this, and it finds you when you least want it. The knife rested in its holder once more, and you took a deep breath. Ignoring this won’t do you any good, yet telling your lover he may perish in cold blood doesn’t seem exactly appealing. In fact the opposite. It pains you to even think about it.

Again, you’re up until morning once more, resting in the sun’s golden rays. Taking a deep breath, you entangle your fingers in your lovers hair, eyes lingering over his facial features. He slowly winked awake and rested his hands over yours, mumbling a ‘good morning’ under his breath.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, I just woke up early, that’s all.” You sighed, pressing a kiss on his cheek. Of course, you didn’t want him to worry, he must be too busy himself anyway. For years you’ve been independent, so it won’t be any different now.

“There’s no need to lie. If there’s something the matter, I promise I’ll make it right.” The gentleness in his eyes soothed you, yet not enough to let those damned words spill out of your mouth.

….,

Word has spread that Gun has taken up Aikido. That day you prepared his lunch, and decided to watch him train. The smile on his face when he saw you sitting in the side warmed you, as you enveloped him in an embrace.

“Mum, youre here.” He cheered, doing small punches in the air to show off what he’s learnt.

“Of course. I’ve just been a little busy lately. Look, I made you tteokbeokki.” You smiled. It was your favourite thing to watch him being happy, knowing it might not last long.

“My favourite!” Gun licked his lips, clasping onto your hands. “I’ll train extra hard today, okay? Watch me, watch me!” He hadn’t seen you in ages. As a young boy, he wouldn’t understand, and doesn’t need to even take notice of your situation.

“It’s time for training.” The Kojima brothers, also one of the many supporting Shintaro’s leadership. As if they’re his personal bodyguards, they spread his propaganda like major gossip. Perhaps the news about the rebellion is being tossed around as the second passes. Shigeaki passes a distasteful glare at you before diverting Gun’s attention to the task at hand.

Since Gun was only young, they decided to teach one of his nephews how to do Aikido as well. They couldn’t personally spar with him because of the height, age and experience difference, and an intelligent opponent like Haruto would be well-suited.

Similar in age, the only difference was their upbringing. Haruto was a secluded boy who was subjected to the cruel opinions that he were useless because of Gun’s existence. Instead, his mother offered reading. In her view, if he couldn’t be the best at fighting, why not intelligence?

It almost reminded you of Shingen’s and Shintaro’s situation. He was born to succeed, while the other was made to cover up after his mess. Since Shingen were the oldest, he were given privileges like fighting and only sometimes playing around. Shintaro, on the other hand, were interested in martial arts yet never got the opportunity to persue it like he did. The notion that he were to protect his brother — no, dedicate his life to him — eventually seeped through the cracks, and jealousy took over. Nobody cared what Shintaro did, whether he ran away or not, he was always in the shadows. Shintaro always presumed he never struggled, having everyone by his side supervising him, yet little did he know he did.

He didn’t know that Shingen didn’t like training for so long, knowing his only purpose being only to prosper and become the heir to the Yamazaki clan. They only praised him for his fighting abilities, nothing else. This clan only critizied his interest in artistry’s and such, To leave a peaceful life and play games with his brother were his goals, yet Shintaro only treated him with coldness. The awkward, suffocating air between them never subsided, and still persists until today.

For centuries it was like this, and old tradition that you plan to cease from existence.

Haruto used strategic methods to trick his opponent, Gun, to the floor. What the Kojima brothers didn’t know was that intelligence and usage of technique was also important in a battle. Jonggun was trained to use brute force, which was in fact also crucial, yet he didnt have the ability to predict his next moment, therefore his next attack was based off of quick thinking. The way he grabbed his arm and flipped him into the floor resonated with you, something inside made you want to learn that too.

Then again, it would be against the rules.

“Auntie, did you see that?” Haurto smiled, pulling you in to a hug. He’s just a young boy too, why can’t he also train to be the best? Why are we, as humans, so dependent on a genetic abnormality?

“I’ll beat you next round!” Gun pouted, sticking his tongue out, teasing the other. Haruto made a snarky remark back, and they quickly started getting ready to spar for another round of Aikido.

Haruto’s mother doesn’t deserve him. No, not at all. You’ve noticed how he always comes to you for his troubles, advice and support. On the outside, she seems like the perfect mother — sparing only kind words to her only son, caring for him — yet in private, what does she do? Those bruises speak for themselves; just what has he gone through? At the occasion his long sleeves that he always wears slips up, a new one appears, and he shakes it off like it’s normal, changing conversation or distracting you while he pulls it down. Guilt washes over you as you couldn’t bear to admit that his experiences would haunt him for the rest of his life. Nobody deserves that.

“Mum! Are you watching?” Gun’s voice, steady with his hands in starting position, bring you back to reality. You clap and cheer with a smile, and watch each and every step. Haruto wins once more, and Gun slumps over towards you, disappointed.

“How about you two teach me how to fight in Aikido style, and I’ll give you the tteokbokki I made. Fair trade, huh?”.

…..,

In Korea, Gapryong’s Fist Gang rests in the comfort of their calm surroundings, under the warm light of a chandelier in the midst of a cafe. Warm light crests a warm atmosphere, the coffees fumes diffusing into the warm breeze the windows let in. Idle chatter

Jinyoung’s mysteriously studying human anatomy, sneering while holding his pencil ever-so intimately. Gapryong peers over his shoulder, taking a quick peek of the monstrosities he’s been hiding recently. Strangely scientifically accurate art pieces of the human skeleton, limbs, organs and veins. His obsession with skulls were disturbing, graphically capturing every hollow, rounded and crisp surface of the cranium. Teeth. After beating his victims, he’d pull out their teeth, collecting them in jars to preserve them. Not just any tooth, the wisdom tooth were his favourite. If he could, he’d slice each finger — in fact the whole hand — and inspect each and every crevice. Teeth were easier to steal and nearly as satisfiying.

No matter how close these four men were, fighting all their battles together, none of them knew the twisted layer under his skin that were slowly taking over.

Jinyoung has suspiciously became quieter recently. Before he’d wear a smile on his face and kick up conversation like it was nothing, offering hand wrestling or the sort. Now? He’s preferably keep to himself, not saying much and focusing on that sketchbook. The scratching across the page, eyes peeled, breath becoming more dragged by the second. Insanity? He’d be the last one you’d suspect. Someone as outgoing as him would never, or so the other three members thought.

Do they even know eachother?

“So, about the Yamazaki Clan,” Gapryong starts, finger tapping against the table. “The police showed up last time, and we had to flee. What a bore.”

“That’s right. I’m sure they’re dwelling in Korea still.” Elite yawned, breaking eye contact with a grin that didn’t seem so frustrated.

“I’m sure we’ll get em next time, y’know?” Gapryong bites his bottom lip, leaning back in his chair.

Silence dawned over the atmosphere, as if someone was wanting to say something, yet left it to the next person. Elite took a sip of his tea, not lifting his eyes off of his cup while tapping his foot on the wooden floor. You could never tell what thoughts were running through his mind. Its was only obvious by his course of actions, what steps he took and what blood he shed. Actions and foreshadowed speech were the way to figuring out his intentions, it were no use to just ask him, being such the perfect liar he is. Precisely, this is the reason they didn’t predict his newest project, designed to leave thousands of corpses, particularly the three bodies he wanted. And he won’t stop until he gets what he wants. Call him greedy as you may, but a guy like him has no bounds to getting what he pleased.

Maybe it’s the trust between them all, why they didn’t suspect him. All these years must’ve meant something to all of them. To Gapryong, it was true friendship — who didn’t like someone to trust and keep company? To Tom, it meant loyalty, a group you could share anything to. Nowadays it felt like that idea has went astray. To Jinyoung, — well, the Jinyoung they used to know — it was exploring the world with the people you value most, laughing all night with a couple of drinks. To Elite… What was it to Elite?

He pulled up his glasses, scanning their troubled faces that avoided the other’s eyes.

Tom sighs, taking it upon himself. “You’ve all heard about that clan recently taking over…” Elite’s breath stopped, batting his eyes in disbelief. Jinyoung paused, letting out a sigh before continuing scribbling. Gapryong frowned, running his hands through his hair, swigging his chapstick out of his pocket.

“That’s right. It’s becoming worrying. I beat down some of the lapdog’s of the organisation, yet none of them will speak, no matter how much you torture them.” Jinyoung spoke softly, voice remaining neutral, yet his heart felt like it was the end of the Fist Gang. No, it can’t be over yet. Not before his plan takes place.

“Then we’ll have to talk their boss.” Gapryong spoke, stern, completely set on the idea. Whether it meant a simple polite introduction or a brutal brawl rid of mannerisms, his determination remained intact. Gapryong wasn’t the type to give up.

“Y’know what? Let’s drink tonight, I want to meet some lovely ladies before I do.” He smirks and passes a seductive wink over to the barista standing behind the till, watching her blush and rush to cover her reddened face. “Who’s with me?”

Tom agrees and Elite pauses for a second, eventually nodding. Jinyoung sits still, despite the wait for his reply. They all expected him to cheer and boost the atmosphere.. Yet nothing passed his lips.

“You’re not coming again, eh?” Tom breaks the silence once more, trying to look in his eyes for answers but to no avail, as his overgrown hair drapes over his face. Jinyoung shakes his head.

“Hey, you’ve been slouching all this time, shouldn’t you stretch? C’mon, it must be tiring. Loosen up a litle.” Tom tried to use the enthusiasm Jinyoung always used to and reach his hand over his shoulder. However before he knew it, his hand was squeezed with a strength he had never felt before. It felt as if his grip has restricted blood flowing into his hands, making them begin to numb.

Jinyoung’s gaze finally lifted over his sketchbook, and they finally got a glimpse of his face. His twitching eyes were an unusual shade of crimson red, each vein eeringly connecting from his sclera to the inside of his lower eyelid. Jinyoung always loved applying chapstick, loving the soft and glossy feeling upon his lips, except this time, they were chapped, with open, bleeding wounds and drool edging at the corner of his lips.

“I’m fine.” Jinyoung muttered, rubbing his tired, bloodshot eyes. No one muttered a word, staring with shock. What could they even say? Their friend — their once friend, as they could barely recognise the man he’s become — is now.. insane? Insane was the first word that came to mind to all of them. And all of them knew they weren’t far off.

….,

“Shingen. Haven’t you heard about that new clan has risen recently?” You ask, while raising your fork to your lips.

“Mmm. It seems so.” Shingen’s voice trails off, taking a sip of the transparent wine provided. “Perhaps it could be a problem. Especially since the Fist Gang and our clan are still under conflict… It is a relief we wasn’t arrested last time.”

“We’ve recovered well. Although a third party seems suspicious. Someone must be backing them, not every odd gang that shows up can be that strong and popular that quick.” You mention, and now that you think about it properly, hidden forces must at play here.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, huh? It won’t be a big deal. Like any other gang, they’ll fall to the hierarchy around here.” Shingen tries to reassure, using his authoritative tone to try and distract you from the concern written all over his face. He already knows they’re wiping out other small gangs and clan, then heading for the big prize. Nobody can be certain that they’re next, therefore it’s no prediction that they’re preparing their forces.

A third force making things complicated at a time like this cannot be a coincidence. At first, Shingen figured it must’ve been that cursed man’s Fist Gang, yet it’s unlikely they would. Someone’s pulling the strings behind the scenes, however there are no leads to show so. Only mere baseless intuition.

It makes you wonder — who? Each are loyal to their own side, especially during a tense time like this. They must’ve known a huge scale war between two major clans were going own, taking this into their advantage. Your eyes look down upon the food in front of you, then to your lover sitting opposite you.

Him, as a corpse? Dead, in front of you, his body cold. His pulse not throbbing anymore, breathe not passing his lips. Blood spilling under his body gallon by gallon, at an alarming rate. You could only cry as his eyes didn’t flutter open no more.

You’re overthinking again. Just another one of your tainted daydreams.

#lookism #shingen yamazaki #lookism x reader #lookism manhwa #yamazaki shingen x reader #lookism hcs #I hate series but I tried #lookism webtoon

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hockeyboistrash · 18 hours ago

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not a couples costume | n.h

summary: a mistaken couples costume turns into something more

a/n: so I may have gotten a bit carried away with this 🫣 I didn't mean for it to get this far. sorry it's late coming out I've had technical difficulties and work. can we also appreciate how hot nico looks in this gif

“Oh, we’re not a couple.” You said for what felt like the thousandth time tonight. It was truly a coincidence that you and Nico came to this bar dressed up for Halloween in a couples costume. You didn’t even know he would be here tonight let alone wear something that paired well with your costume. The two of you worked in the Devil’s organisation and have only spoken in passing. Whenever you did though, any train of thought would be gone. You wouldn’t be able to focus on your work for the rest of the day, his smile imprinted in your head. God you love his smile. Nico was the same. He always hoped to see you when he was walking into the arena, feeling a little deflated when he didn’t.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” You playfully glared at him. To be honest, you could’ve walked away from him by now and gone back to your friends, you probably should’ve, but you didn’t. You let your eyes roam his body from head to toe, from the tight shirt that hugged his muscles in the right places to his hand holding the neck of his beer bottle firmly as he took a swig of his drink. You were unabashedly checking him out. Nico wasn’t complaining though because he was doing the same thing. He loved the way your ass curved perfectly in your costume.

“I don’t know what you’re on about.” Nico shrugged, smirking as he took a sip of his drink.

“No one is going to want to hook up with me tonight if the entire bar thinks we’re a couple.” You pointed out. Nico’s grip tightened and his smirk fell. He hated thinking about a pair of hands roaming your body that weren’t his.

“Is that such a bad thing?” He asked. You hadn't realised how close the two of you were sitting until you felt his warm breath against your ear. “I did save you from some sleazy guy earlier.” How could you forget? That’s how you ended up in this position in the first place. Some guy wouldn’t take no for an answer and Nico swooped in, saving you from the interaction. You still remembered how his fingers felt against the bare skin of your hip, the cold making you shiver slightly. You didn’t mind though. In fact you wish it was still there.

You were brought out of this bubble you and Nico were in by a waitress sliding a jug of some colourful cocktail onto your table. “Oh we didn’t order this.” You told her and she just smiled at you.

“It’s the prize for winning the best couple’s costume.” Was all she said before walking away, picking up empty glasses from tables.

“I should really get going.” You groaned, thinking about how bad of a combination the cocktail jug is with work tomorrow.

“We can’t let this go to waste.” Nico said, pushing the drink between you, a straw facing you both. “Besides, are you going to tell coach that you left me to drink this all by myself and that's why I'm severely hungover.”

Nico pouted slightly, his warm chocolate brown eyes giving you puppy dog eyes. He didn’t want tonight to end. Not yet anyway, afraid that this will be the last time you speak. You weren’t particularly close before tonight. “Fine.” You agreed, feigning annoyance. You weren’t annoyed that much. Sure you wanted to go home so you didn’t feel rough the next day at work but Nico wanting you to stay with him made your stomach do flips. “But this is the last drink.” You said and his pout quickly turned into a grin. It was infectious making your lips twist into a grin.

Nico’s tongue caught the stray straw, having a sip of the colourful concoction in front of you, the image giving you impure thoughts making you clench your thighs. You wondered what else his tongue could do.

The conversation flowed between you as the jug slowly emptied. Nico talked about his summer in Switzerland, coming second in the world championships. You listened intently as he spoke about things he loves, his lips tugged into a smile the whole time. You could sit here all night and just listen to him talk. It felt like you were making up for lost time from all those missed conversations you had before tonight.

“Come on.” Nico said, holding his hand out for you once he stood up. You gave him a questioning look as you put your hand into his, wondering where he was taking you. It wasn’t until you stopped at the dancefloor that it clicked in your head making you giggle.

“If you wanted to dance you could’ve just asked.” You shouted into his ear, the halloween playlist filling the bar making it difficult to be heard.

“Didn’t know if you would have said yes.” Nico admitted, blush creeping onto his cheeks not that you could tell in the dim light.

The two of you danced, getting lost in the music. Your bodies were pressed against each other, your ass flush against Nico’s crotch, his hands gripping your hips not wanting to lose you in the crowd or to keep you against him. You welcomed it though. It felt like it was just the two of you in here. Nico pressed soft kisses along your collarbone up to your neck and along your jaw before reaching your lips. You turned around, your hands moving to caress the stubble on his jaw as you deepened the kiss. You could feel Nico’s grip loosen, his fingers lightly sliding down to the curve of your ass. It was then that the fog lifted bringing you back to the reality that you were currently in the middle of the bar making out with Nico. Nico who you work with.

You moved your head to the side, breaking out of the spell that was cast on you. “We can’t do this.” You sighed, gently pushing Nico away making him frown slightly. “We work together.”

“Technically we work for the same organisation, not together. Besides, no one has to find out. This could be our little secret.” He said, his fingers gently tilting your chin so you were looking back at him. “If you can honestly say you don’t want this we can stop now but I think you want this as much as me.”

You bit your lip, looking at him through your eyelashes. You wish you could say that but you couldn’t because you did want this. You wanted Nico’s big hands caressing your thighs as his lips found your sweet spot. “I want this.” You told him. “I want you.”

That was enough for Nico to grab your hand and drag you out of the bar into the cold New Jersey night. The worries from earlier slipping to the back of your mind as you climbed into the Uber, Nico’s hand resting dangerously high on your thigh.

#nico hischier imagine #nico hischer x reader #nico hischier #new jersey devils imagine #new jersey devils #nhl imagine #nhl

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vianbarnes · 17 hours ago

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my buddie going canon ideal scenario and why it could happen before eddie fully realises he’s gay

i’ve been cooking up this scenario for a while now but before going into it i wanna clarify that i don’t think eddie’s homosexuality is tied to buck and just that. i could write a full essay about eddie’s queerness without even mentioning buck. HOWEVER i do think buck could be the key to eddie’s discovery, the last puzzle piece that makes it all make sense.

narratively speaking, i think it could be interesting to see buck and eddie get to the same conclusion (that they’re in love with each other) but in the complete opposite way. while for buck it’s oh shit i’m bi > oh shit i’m in love with eddie, for eddie it would be oh shit i’m in love with buck > oh shit i’m gay. and obviously eddie is starting his own journey just now, so he might realise he’s gay and then it could click for him that all he’s been looking for was there all along, but i do think that - since this is a tv show - it would be interesting to offer a different side of the story to the audience. and yes i know that buck’s queerness and eddie’s queerness are very different already, but i’m specifically referring to their storylines leading up to buddie. (also this is just a personal side note but i think i would be lowkey crazy to have both of them realise they’re queer and still not understand their feelings for each other, like i know they’re dumb and dumber but c’mon!!!)

ok so now let’s put on the tinfoil hat

we literally know nothing about what’s gonna happen in the next episodes so i don’t have any solid theory on how we could get to this scenario. some of the interviews were teasing some potential tension (or angst even) between buck and eddie so my brain took this information and ran with it. a lot of us were also theorising a nde for buck, for eddie or for both of them at the same time and that could also be the setup for what i’m thinking.

but first let’s analyse where buck and eddie are right now (and in the upcoming episodes)

buck was just broken up with so now he’s trying to explore his sexuality and understand it more. it feels like the search for “his last” has just started and he’s excited to look at relationships and love through a new lens, but he also might feel a little discouraged that he has to do it all over again. he might be thinking “now that i have all these new possibilities, why is it still so hard to find my person?” (average bisexual experience i will tell you that much).

eddie on the other hand is slowly trying to forgive himself and love himself, accepting joy and not pushing away his desires and needs. allowing himself to feel certain feelings and just let go. he’s taking small steps to show up for himself just like he does for his loved ones every day (we still don’t know how far they’re gonna go with his story so the next episodes are definitely gonna be interesting)

so, with all that being said, here’s how buddie could go canon:

it’s late and buck shows up at eddie’s house. they’re in the kitchen drinking a beer, both leaning on the counter and not looking at each other at first. something has happened between them that they need to clear up (could be an argument, a fight or some very important words exchanged when they thought they were about to lose the other).

as much as i love a “because i love you!!” screamed during an argument, i don’t see that happening in this scenario. i imagine them having the softest, most honest and open conversation where they lay it all out - without even realising what they’re doing. at some point, buck is gonna say something that will make it finally click for eddie. if it’s an argument he could say something like “i need you in my life”/“i want you in my life forever”, or if this happens after a nde he could say “i can’t imagine my life without you”/“i don’t know how i could live without you” (i’m not a writer but you get the gist lol)

and that’s when eddie finally allows himself to feel what deep down he’s been feeling for years, and so he leans over and kisses buck. the kiss is pretty short: eddie pulls away almost immediately, as if his body was possessed by something and he just snapped out of it. buck can’t believe what just happened, but it takes him just a few seconds to realise and to grab eddie’s face and kiss him back. they start making out, they go out of frame, the screen turns black, the episode is over.

now let’s talk about the aftermath of the kiss. because if we know 911 we know that this goddamn show can’t let people just be happy so of course there’s gonna be some angst and miscommunication.

after the kiss, they don’t really talk about it. they might even get interrupted by something else (maybe eddie has to go to texas to get chris back?) so they have to postpone the what the fuck just happened conversation. and that’s when both of them start to spiral, but for different reasons. buck of course thinks that eddie’s distance means that he regretted the kiss, that they got caught up in the moment but that he doesn’t feel that way about him and he basically ruined their friendship. eddie is also freaking the fuck out: he’s panicking about how they could make their relationship work, how they could tell christopher, he’s questioning literally his whole life and past relationships like oh my god have i been gay this whole fucking time??, he’s worried about their jobs, how they’re gonna tell bobby and the others. basically questioning everything but buck.

being the idiots that they are, they’re gonna convince themselves that the other regretted everything and they’re gonna avoid each other and never have that much needed conversation. the 118 obviously notices that something is off, but no one knows what it is. until hen and eddie finally talk and he tells her everything: what happened, what made him panic and doubt everything and what’s stopping him from talking to buck. hen is shocked but not necessarily surprised. her and karen look at eachother (yes karen is there too because of eddiekaren bestfriendism that is very real to me) and then hen says something like “i don’t have the answers to all of these questions, but i’m sure of one thing: you love him and he loves you. you can figure out the rest together. go talk to him” (i think it would be nice for eddie to have this conversation with henren as a couple, since his biggest fears and concerns are about how they could make the relationship work)

eddie feels like he just woke up from a 20+ year long sleep. he runs out of hen’s place, hurrying to his car, and from now i’m picturing a full romcom montage with him just fighting for his life to get to buck’s apartment: traffic, construction work so he has to take a detour, his shirt is drenched in sweat so he has to go back home to change because surely he can’t show up at buck’s looking like that. once he gets home, he sprints to his room to find a new shirt (maybe he puts on too much cologne - the one buck likes - and he has to change again. just because it would be fun to see him in distress). he fixes his hair for the 100th time, grabs his keys, finally opens the front door and stops in disbelief. buck is on his doorstep, hand mid-air about to knock. they look at each other and in that moment they just know. they both lean in and go for the kiss aaand BUDDIE CANON !!!! (+ the buck at eddie’s door parallel finally having the romcom resolution it always meant to have)

of course i have no clue how we could get there, but i do feel like it would be true to the show if they didn’t immediately get together and if there was some angst between them. i hope that once they get together they won’t try to break them up (even just temporarily) so they might have to go through some shit at the very beginning of their relationship for that to happen.

alright tinfoil hat OFF folks. i always try to stay consistent to the show and only come up with theories that i could truly see being developed and i don’t think any of this is unrealistic. buuut i’m still a clown so who knows. quite frankly i’m fine with buddie canon either way (as long as their first kiss is initiated by eddie and it happens in his kitchen <3)

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sansaorgana · 2 days ago

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— DECEPTION (VIII)

DECEPTION MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Elf!Reader // Adar x fem!Elf!Reader

SUMMARY — Your conversation with Lady Galadriel makes you realise a very difficult truth about the nature of your relationship with Sauron. You wish to keep your dark secret from your husband but you are trying to make him realise that perhaps attacking Eregion might not be the best idea after all.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I could not wait to write this chapter from the very beginning the idea for this fic showed up in my head. Even though the Reader is not really talking much during the scene with Galadriel (it was never my intention for her to talk there much), the conversation she is witnessing makes her realise all the things that make her deeply uncomfortable and cause her whole life's purpose to shatter. 👌🏽👌🏻 This fic is slowly coming to an end, by the way.

WARNINGS — forced/arranged marriage, Reader is NOT a good person – she is proud, greedy, fake and corrupted by Sauron, "love" triangle situationship

WORD COUNT — 6,900

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

DECEPTION (VIII)

Everyone knew who Lady Galadriel was. Not just the Elves but nearly every being in Middle-earth, including the Orcs because she had slayed so many of them. In fact, you were sure that some Uruk mothers were telling their children scary stories about Lady Galadriel. Known for carrying so much light and beauty and yet so fiercely determined to purge Middle-earth from all filth. In a way, she reminded you of Sauron in this.

Lady Galadriel was everything you had wished to be back in the day – known, respected, beautiful beyond comparison. Back in the day when you had remained incorrupt by your lover, before you had begun to dream about becoming his terrific Queen and rule alongside him. Now you could not care less about her qualities because you had your own – very often contradicting hers.

You walked together with your husband amongst the Orcs as the night was slowly turning into a foggy day and you could already see Eregion from afar.

The sight alone was gut-twisting to you because you knew that your beloved was there – so close to you. Soon, you would be in his arms as his Queen. No more secrets, no more hiding, no more lies.

But when you imagined that, your heart ached for the man walking by your side. What would happen to him then? You were certain Sauron wanted Adar dead but you… You did not.

You could never admit it to your lover, though. He was jealous and possessive. It would only make him want Adar’s death even more. And he had other reasons than you – his own revenge. The revenge you craved as well after all. Adar had been the one to take Sauron away from you by killing and humiliating him. He had his own reasons to do it, too, though. The situation between them was very delicate and difficult on many levels.

Your plan had been so easy at first – to play pretend and hand Adar out to Sauron on a silver plate. But your heart – not as rotten as you’d like it to be – kept complicating things.

“How well do you know Galadriel?” Your husband asked you and you turned your head around to raise an eyebrow.

“Not much personally. I have seen her a few times, talked to her twice maybe, except for the official affairs since I was a daughter of the Lord Guardian of The Southlands. But she mostly resided in the North, therefore there were never many occasions,” you explained. “Why?”

“I was only wondering if you might be useful when we negotiate with her,” Adar told you and you tilted your head.

“I have a feeling you hide something from me. Why did you even take her as a prisoner?” You furrowed your brows. “You promised me… You promised me that we would be equals and that you would tell me everything,” you reminded him.

Adar stopped walking for a moment and you stopped, too, staring at him and trying to show off your best hurt expression. The Orcs kept passing you by and glancing from the corners of their eyes when your husband extended his hand to hold yours.

“I have no secrets from you,” he assured you. “But I am so used to loneliness, I forget to share my thoughts often,” he admitted. “Galadriel might be our ally. She is after Sauron, is she not?” He asked and you nodded, squeezing his hand back.

“She devoted her life to fight him and other forces of darkness,” you replied. “But we are the very forces of darkness. What makes you think she is going to treat with us?”

“If she does not, we might use her. It is her who is our prisoner, not the other way around,” Adar smirked and pointed his chin in the direction where he wanted you to follow him – where some of the Orcs were already toying with Lady Galadriel, recently released out of her cage and the others were busy building a war camp for your army to reside.

When you approached them, you spotted Glûg holding his dagger close to Galadriel’s face. It suddenly made you realise how you truly became one of them – how it was nearly impossible to imagine any of the Orcs to ever turn against you the same way. From being scared of falling asleep around them, you walked confidently amongst them and you even dared to scold them sometimes as they would look down shyly.

In their eyes, you surely were no Elf anymore – not in the same way Galadriel was.

Adar stopped Glûg by putting his hand on the Orc’s arm and shaking his head as Glûg walked away, a little frustrated. Lady Galadriel’s beautiful, bright eyes found yours and she seemed to be pretty fascinated. Therefore, you straightened your back.

And after a very short while of holding each other’s gazes, she suddenly took out a dagger that had been hidden discreetly in her sleeve and pointed it at your husband. The Orcs around you groaned at that as they became alarmed and so did you – you let out a small yelp as your heart skipped a beat and your hand already grabbed the hilt of your sword. Even though you knew that you would never be an opponent worthy enough of her when it came to sword duels.

Galadriel turned around, moving Adar alongside her. And now her blade was pressed to his neck as Glûg jumped in front of you to cover you with his own body just in case.

Yes, you were definitely one of them now. Your light was all gone, your blood turned black and your skin turned cold. Valinor was awaiting you no more.

“I brought you here not as a prisoner…” Adar turned his face around to look at Galadriel as he spoke in the Sindarin language, “but as a potential ally for we share a common enemy.”

After a while of hesitation, Galadriel’s surprised eyes found yours behind Glûg. You nodded at her as if you were more trustworthy than your husband – in fact, you were less. But she did not know that and she still must have considered you to be sort of a friend. A friend enough to let go of Adar as the Orcs calmed down and you ran up to your husband to put your hands on his chest and cling to him, grateful that he was still in one piece. You knew how fierce Galadriel could be.

Adar caressed your back soothingly and you could feel her eyes on you, probably wondering about the nature of your relationship.

“Lady Galadriel, please, feel yourself invited…” Adar pointed at the biggest tent that had already been there, waiting for you two to sleep in. “Let us talk,” he added and you watched her hesitantly go inside.

Your husband followed and you began walking right after when you felt a strong pull towards Eregion. You turned around rapidly and kept staring at the forest, knowing very well that behind them the city stood and inside the city there he was – Sauron. Looking out and sensing your presence, looking out for you. You smiled to yourself and focused all your will and might to let him know that you were close and you would be reunited soon.

And with a heart so full of love for him and a brand new inspiration to carry on with your plan, you finally joined Adar and Galadriel inside the tent.

They were sitting on the opposite sides of the table as some female Orcs were bringing you food. It was a small feast in a way and you knew it was Adar’s way to make Galadriel feel like your guest indeed. You took a seat next to him and put a small portion on your plate before beginning to eat it. Adar’s portion was much bigger than yours but Galadriel’s was none. Her plate remained empty and she just kept sitting there and staring at the two of you, which was awkward in a way but you tried to ignore her.

You wondered if Sauron knew about her. Was she also a part of his plan or was she an obstacle he had no idea of? You could not decide for yourself, therefore, for now, you decided to just sit there and observe how the situation would evolve.

Eventually, she just could not hold herself back no more as she addressed you.

“Lady (Y/N) of The Southlands… Your mother arrived in Lindon some time ago,” Galadriel spoke and you looked up at her, immediately. The mention of your mother made your heart clench.

“Then you must be surprised to see me,” you smirked, “for I have instructed her to speak of me as dead.”

“On the contrary,” Galadriel raised an eyebrow at you in a challenging manner and you furrowed your brows. “She has told the High King everything.”

You clenched your jaw and gritted your teeth, nervously looking at Adar but he only nodded at you to calm you down and soothe you.

“Then you know what treachery my father was capable of,” you answered, avoiding her gaze. You did not want her to see the betrayal you felt after your mother’s broken promise.

“And what treachery you were capable of as well,” Galadriel nodded.

“My mother blames me for the fall of Ostirith, but I had no idea of it. It was no scheme of mine,” you finally met her gaze again. This time you didn’t care if she could see the pain on your face or not because it was too big to hide it anyway. “Why can she not trust her own daughter?”

“She loves you but she does not believe you,” Galadriel informed you. “She revealed to the High King that there had been something rotten about you for a while now. Ever since you had returned from Eregion–”

“Stop it!” You banged your fist on the table, angrily.

“Be at ease, she is provoking you,” Adar’s voice was calm as he put his hand on your arm to give you comfort. Then he shot Galadriel a glance.

You nodded at your husband and relaxed, which made her roll her eyes a bit.

“You seem to quite fit in. Even the sword you carry is Morgoth’s,” Galadriel pointed out.

“I had to fit in to survive. Something a grand lady like you has never known and will never know,” you remarked.

Adar seemed to be a little frustrated with your girly chit-chat as he leaned back on his chair and sighed. He raised a hand to shush you both since he wanted to finally speak of the matters that were the most important to him.

“We must not argue now,” he reminded you two and then, after a short while of silence, he looked at Galadriel. “During my brief time in your capture, you seemed intent on finding Sauron. One might even say, consumed by it,” he told her and Galadriel looked down.

You leaned back on your chair as well, with your hands clasped on your abdomen as you observed her reactions.

“The way one always is, once he has wormed his way inside your mind,” Adar kept talking and his eyes were on Galadriel. Her own eyes were rather glancing down, avoiding his gaze. Therefore, your own eyes were allowed to wander and for that you were grateful. His words about your beloved were making you feel deeply uncomfortable.

“You know nothing of my mind,” Galadriel replied to that and a smug expression lit up her face. “You yielded to him. I resisted.”

Resisted?

You swallowed a lump in your throat. What was she talking about? Since when was she ever so close to Sauron to be offered anything from him? Back in the First Age, the only time Galadriel had been mentioned by your lover was when he had been complaining about the Elven armies to you. She had never been any part of his plans – except for the one to get rid of her for once and for all.

And yes, you were aware that Galadriel had been the one to spend time with Halbrand in Númenor but you had never seen her as anything else but his tool. Was it possible that there had been more depth to their relationship? That he had shown her his soul and offered her a piece of it?

Did his soul not belong to you wholly?

“For a while, perhaps,” Adar remarked in a whisper. “But sooner or later, he sees you. Not just who you are, but who you wish to be,” he added and you clenched your jaw as you looked down to stare at your fingers.

You began to fidget with them nervously while you remembered your first meeting with Sauron. How luring and tempting he had been, how he had seemed to know perfectly well what had been your desires. And he had promised you to fulfil them all.

“His eyes bore a hole and the rest of him slithers in,” Adar kept talking and at that moment, his voice was starting to make you sick. It was becoming too much to hear all these things.

He had known Sauron – he had known him better than you in lots of ways. You were no young Elf but your husband was much older and he had known Sauron for a time much longer than you. They had fought together for Morgoth and then for themselves. The only thing you had been doing was warming your lover’s bed and listening to his sweet nothings.

And that… That was enough to make you become obsessed with him. To make you yearn for him each day and each night of your separation. To make you abandon all else – because only Sauron mattered.

“For a while, he even makes you believe that his power has become yours,” Adar kept his monologue and you took a deep breath. As you raised your chin, you spotted the look on Galadriel’s face…

The look that made you realise what the nature of her relationship with Sauron had to be…

You felt dizzy but you managed to keep an emotionless face on even though your mind began to drift away and get foggy.

“Irresistible power… that makes every desire’s fulfilment seem inevitable,” Adar smirked as he had noticed Galadriel’s facial expression as well. “An ocean of colour against which everything else feels forever thereafter–”

“A dull grey,” Galadriel admitted and you regretted eating your meal in an instant when the anxiety squeezed your stomach and you felt even more sick now.

It was her confession and the both of you knew it. You watched Adar’s face change its expression in an instant as he realised he had found an ally in her indeed – that they had both been deceived by Sauron in the past.

And you were sitting there, too. Like a fool.

“What did he promise you?” Adar asked Galadriel.

“An army,” she lied. Her eyes glistened and she shook her head and you knew – you just knew – that she lied.

You knew because you knew what it meant to love and trust Sauron. You knew what he was doing to a woman he had such a strong effect on and what it was like to share a bond with him. And all these things, you could see in her now, too.

It felt like a punch right into your gut, piercing you through and through, leaving you behind to bleed out slowly, drop by drop.

Was it possible that your lover… Your one and only, your whole purpose in life, your dream, your master, your King… That he was merely using you?

That you were nothing but one of many other women he had been finding a use for? And if Lady Galadriel was one of them – the Lady of Light – what chances did you stand? What was giving you any guarantee that it was her he had been deceiving and you that he had been genuine with?

The chances were zero.

Your whole world crumbled down in an instant and you could not let it show. You closed your eyes for a longer while and tried to focus on your fastened heartbeat instead.

“Do you want to know what he offered me?” Adar inquired.

“I care not,” Galadriel admitted.

“Children,” your husband answered anyway.

And how pure his wishes and desires seemed to be compared to you. You had been greedy, you had made Sauron promise you to make you his Queen. You had wanted to be worshipped and admired.

But now you were not so sure. Having a taste of it by being the Dark Lady of Mordor was truly making you realise what a burden and responsibility it was to lead others. Sometimes being Adar’s wife and watching over the Orcs seemed to be more than enough.

And then Sauron would slip back into your mind again… And you would be reminded once more what a great power you could have if you only dared to unleash it.

“Then it would seem he gave us both what we desired,” Galadriel pointed out.

“You see, it is not his lies which must be extinguished. It is him and I can help you do it,” Adar admitted and you felt a shiver go down your spine.

Despite everything you had just found out, you still felt awful whenever the possibility of Sauron’s death was being mentioned.

“I can help you destroy Sauron,” your husband leaned in over the table to reach Galadriel more effectively.

“What help could you possibly provide, Orc?” She snapped at him and it finally gave you an opportunity to glance at her with all your anger and jealousy that you had been feeling for a while now.

You had never cared much about that slur until now – because in her lips it sounded just so awful.

“Uruk,” you finally spoke, interrupting them as they both looked at you surprised. Whether they were shocked by the fact that you cared or they simply forgot you were there with them – you did not care.

You did not care about anything anymore. Your whole life, your whole love and devotion, your whole sacrifice – they might have been a lie. How could you care about anything or anyone?

Adar stood up and briefly caressed your cheek with his finger as he walked away from the table to approach the wooden chest with Morgoth’s crown. He took it out to show it off to Galadriel and as he walked towards her with the item, she seemed to be startled by its darkness.

“Morgoth’s crown… I was told–”

“There are many stories of what happened, after the Silmarils were pried from its settings. But I was there when Sauron re-fired it to fit himself,” Adar confessed and you kept listening as your lips nervously twitched and formed a sad smile as silent and dry tears streamed down your cheeks – they were invisible but you could feel that you were on the verge of crying. “I was there when he kneeled to be crowned and I was the one who used its power to slay him,” Adar continued his story.

Each time you were told it or you thought of it, you relieved it in your mind. You had not been there but you had enough imagination to see it with your eyes. And each time your heart weeped for your betrayed lover but it seemed to weep no more… Because you were a betrayed lover now.

Adar put the crown on the table in front of Galadriel and you looked down, hoping they would forget about your existence once more.

“If what you say is true, why did he return?” Galadriel asked.

Exactly. Why?

Until now, you had foolishly been thinking that perhaps you were one of the reasons. That the very thought of you had been keeping him strong. He had even mentioned such things when you had reunited with him in Mordor for a brief moment.

But now you could see it even more clearly – how cold and distant he had been to you while you had been the one to devour him after centuries of separation. Oh, what a fool you had been and how you had humiliated yourself…

“Because I had not yet found you,” Adar addressed Galadriel and you looked up angrily. You did not like his choice of words.

“What part am I to play in this?” Galadriel asked.

“It is said that the Three Elven Rings saved your kind from fading,” Adar told her. “Is it true?”

You wondered that, too. You had been with him when you both had received such “news” or rather “gossip” as you had thought of it back then. Lady Galadriel refused to answer, though, as she looked away.

“If it is, then perhaps together, this crown and your Rings would be powerful enough to truly destroy Sauron forever,” Adar informed her.

And once again you were torn – because even if it was true that Sauron had been using you and only that… If he was to be defeated, your whole life would lose its purpose. You had abandoned the Valar for him – your new and only god. If he truly stopped existing, a part of you would die with him surely. The part you had given away to him freely – nearly all of you.

“The Deceiver believes he is still beyond my grasp,” Adar continued, “but I know he hides in Eregion and I suspect you know for certain…” He hesitated with a smirk. “Halbrand is Sauron, isn't he?” He asked and you felt your blood turn even colder when you realised that your husband had seen through your lover’s disguise.

You had a feeling in your gut that he did but he had never told you anything about it, so you were hopeful it was only you being paranoid. But now, you were anxious again that he had seen through you as well.

Galadriel did not answer but what you saw on her face only proved to you once more that she loved the human king – one of your lover’s forms.

“The fate of that city now rests on your ability to put aside your pride,” Adar crouched down to look more intensely at Galadriel’s face. “I suggest you find the will to do so… If you can,” he added with contempt before standing up to take away Morgoth’s crown.

He returned to her to put her wrist in a shackle because she could not be trusted after her stunt with the dagger before but also – despite his sweet assurances – she was your prisoner.

“We will speak again,” your husband told her and offered you his hand to help you stand and leave with him but you shook your head. Adar nodded and left you two alone.

Long while of silence occurred between you two, in which you were debating with yourself on how much to reveal.

“An army,” you mocked her and she furrowed her brows at you. “He promised you to be his Queen,” you added and finally stood up to leave the table even though your legs were weak and trembling, which you managed to hide. You approached Galadriel slowly and leaned in to be face-to-face with the most beautiful of the Elven women.

“You reek of an Orc,” she pointed out and you laughed at that. It was nearly adorable how she was trying to change the subject.

And, you had to admit, the only good thing coming out of this whole situation was to have her at your mercy. To toy with her was your greatest pleasure – to feel in control and to feel even more powerful. There was a time you had wanted to impress her but now you were disgusting her and it brought you nothing but satisfaction.

“How can you know anyway?” She asked as she met your gaze eventually, after a while of feeling your intense eyes on her and realising you were not willing to change the subject at all.

“I am gifted with an extraordinary intuition,” you teased. “Oh, how pathetic you must feel now… To know that Sauron himself offered you to be his Queen and you considered it for a while. What does that make you? Do you think you are worthy of all your titles now, Lady of Light?” You asked with contempt.

“And were you not offered the same?” Galadriel asked and your heart skipped a beat as your smirk froze. Did she…? Did she know…?

“What are you talking about?!” You barked at her, angrily, as you straightened your back.

“Adar,” she explained and you breathed out of relief. “Did he not promise you the crown? You accepted it. How does that make you feel? What does it make you?”

“He does not wish to be a King and I do not aspire to be a Queen by his side,” you informed Galadriel, which was no lie. “What we wish for is a home. You can pretend to be so righteous and strong amongst your kin, Lady Galadriel, but you and I know how weak you truly are,” you smirked and left the tent.

It was suffocating you at this point. The air inside of it, her intense gaze, the words spoken. You wanted to breathe in the forest and gather your thoughts because there were so many as your heart was broken into a million pieces.

You stared once more at the trees, in the direction of Eregion, and you wanted to reach out to Sauron but he was not answering, probably too busy with his schemes. The fact was – he never answered your calls. If there were any glimpses of the connection between your minds, it was always him initiating it.

“What are you thinking of?” You heard Adar’s voice behind you as he put his arm on your shoulder. “You seem to be upset.”

“I… I think we should go back home,” you turned around to face him now instead of the trees, Eregion and Sauron inside of it. And at the sight of Adar’s scarred face, your heart suddenly filled in with warmth.

“What do you mean?” Your husband furrowed his brows. “Were you not the one convincing me eagerly about marching to Eregion with our army?”

“Yes, but I am not so sure anymore. Please, trust my gut. Something has changed, I am not sure… I have a bad feeling,” you grabbed him by his sleeves as you clenched your fists around the fabric, desperately. Your eyes were looking up to meet his blue ones in a pleading manner and he was staring at you with so much devotion that you were sure he still had no idea of who you truly were despite finding out the truth about Halbrand.

Perhaps it was better this way. Perhaps it should stay this way. You wanted to go back to Mordor – to that godforsaken place you had turned into your new home recently. You wanted to live in peace and safety there alongside Adar. And you were not even sure if Sauron would ever come looking for you. He would eventually show up to get his revenge and his army but perhaps you would be able to prepare for it in time. But you doubted he would come there for you.

“I know the vision of this battle is unsettling to you,” Adar cupped your face gently, “and that you wish to be back home – so do I. We shall,” he nodded. “We shall go home but not until Sauron is defeated,” he reminded you and you smiled sadly.

It was a trap and you could not make him see it… You would have to reveal your part in it for him to realise it and that was something you were not ready for. So, instead, you went for something else.

“Can you hold me?” You asked and Adar was a little surprised but he did not say anything. “I want to feel safe.”

“Of course,” he nodded and wrapped his arms around you. You clinged to him like a little girl, wishing that you could freeze time.

To beg and plead for Adar to turn his army back after all the weeks of convincing him that it had been a good idea to march towards Eregion would be highly suspicious now. But you knew that the game was over anyway – it was too late to make him realise it was a trap without telling him the truth. And perhaps even after finding out about your purpose by his side, he would still decide to attack the Elven city.

You spent a whole day wandering around the forest nearby the camp. You found a tree that had fallen over and you sat under it, feeling the grass under your hands. In a way, you wished you had not found out the truth about being Sauron’s puppet – most likely.

Most likely, because you wanted to believe – you truly did – that his devotion and love towards you were true. However, if you started to believe that, wouldn’t that make you an even bigger fool?

You had ruined your maidenhood, your family and your home for him. And now you would ruin your new family, too. You would hand him out Adar to be killed and his children to become Sauron’s slaves. And what would you get in return? A dagger in your back since you would not be useful anymore? Or a crown? Would he truly give you any real power?

You were not even so sure if you wanted it, after all.

Tears streamed down your cheeks. Real, genuine tears. Because, for the first time in a long while, you did not know what to do – until now you had been waiting for Sauron, living for Sauron, worshipping Sauron. And now you were stripped of your faith and of your god but you still remained his servant. How could you stop it? You couldn’t even pray to the Valar anymore to help you – they would not listen to a fallen Elf.

When you heard a noise behind you, you suspected it would be Adar. But no, it was Glûg. You quickly sniffled your tears back and wiped your cheeks before cracking a smile at him.

“My Lady?” He asked, unsurely as he tilted his head at the sight of your tears.

“Yes, Uruk?” You asked him, trying to hide the deep amount of your sadness.

“Lord Father is looking for you,” he told you and you nodded before getting up and approaching him to go back to the camp.

“It is a pretty area of the forest, is it not?” You tried to ask him while pretending to be cheerful.

“I guess,” he shrugged his arms. He kept staring at you intensely with his small eyes. “Why are you sad, Dark Lady?”

“I already mourn all the Uruks that will die in the upcoming battle,” you smiled sadly at him.

How easy it was to spit out such soothing lies. It was not like you didn’t care what would happen to them – you had grown used to being around them. But it was also not like you truly mourned for them. However, such a lie rolled off of your tongue without much thought put into it.

Sauron had taught you well. But this time you felt bad about it instead of being proud about it.

Glûg nodded his head at you, sadly. That was when you entered the camp again and you spotted Adar amongst his children, explaining something to them. You ran up to him and wrapped your hands around his arm. He smiled adoringly at you.

“Come with me, let me show you,” you tried to convince him and you could see him hesitate. There was not much time to waste but he eventually agreed with a sigh and allowed you to walk him out of the camp.

You were starting to become his weakness.

You took him back to where Glûg had found you. It was truly a very beautiful place in the forest; so green and calm. The light was creeping in through the trees and you smiled at your husband as you caressed his cheeks and brushed his hair strands behind his pointy ears.

“Something about you in this light makes me believe I could truly be good once again,” Adar whispered to you in the Quenya language and you felt your heart clench inside your chest.

How could you betray him…?

“Damn the good. And damn the evil. Let us just be ourselves,” you answered. “Let us go home…”

“You know that we cannot. Not until he is no more,” your husband carefully and gently held your wrists to lower them away from his face. He placed soft kisses upon the palms of your hands and caressed them.

“Why do we have to come for him? Why can he not come for us? We could fight him in our own land, on our own terms,” you tried to convince him. “You know that this feeling in my gut… It is never wrong.”

“Yet it often changes its mind,” Adar smirked at that and you sighed.

You even opened your mouth, gathering courage to confess the truth in this beautiful place but the moment you were about to admit your sins, the very same courage abandoned you.

“It is beautiful here and I know you yearn for peace but we must go back,” Adar let go of one of your hands to caress your cheek with his rough fingertips. “You are the most beautiful lady in all Middle-earth,” he added in the Quenya language and you furrowed your brows at that when you began walking back to the camp.

“Where did it come from?” You asked with a nervous chuckle.

“I could sense your jealousy when I spoke with Lady Galadriel,” he answered. “As if her beauty could ever match yours.”

“You must be blind then, my poor Adar. She is known for being the fairest of the Elven ladies,” you shook your head but a playful sparkle lit up your eyes.

“That is an easy kind of beauty and I do not seek easiness in anything,” your husband answered with all seriousness.

And the thing with Adar was that you just knew that his words were genuine and they were not prepared beforehand with some hidden agenda.

It was dark already when Adar and you were informed that Lady Galadriel was ready to speak again. You went back inside your tent where she had been kept for a whole day and you stood in front of her, still sitting on the chair.

“Yes. Halbrand is Sauron,” Galadriel started as the silence was growing heavy between you all. Your jaw twitched slightly as it clenched at her words. “He’s in Eregion to craft Rings that will allow him to dominate my kind. And yours.”

“Every kind in Middle-earth,” Adar added.

“But he will not attempt escape until his task is complete,” Galadriel laid her eyes upon you now. “And that gives us a momentary advantage.”

“Us?” You raised an eyebrow at her

Galadriel moved her hand in shackles and looked back at your husband, angrily.

“Unlock me,” she ordered.

Adar looked at you and you nodded at him even though you were not sure if it was a good idea to do so. He approached her to unchain her and she kept glancing at him with a mix of anger but also curiosity.

“As we speak, Elrond hastens from Lindon with an army of Elves,” she revealed. “And Nenya – my Ring.”

“I see,” Adar turned around to join your side again.

“Once he arrives, he will seal off the city,” Galadriel stood up as she spoke, “loose Celebrimbor from Sauron’s grasp, and then together, Uruks, you and I will eradicate all trace of Sauron from this world. Never to return,” she finished.

Uruks. You had been told by her or by your lover that you reeked of them. But you had never been called one.

“And what then?”Adar asked.

“Any Rings that have known his touch must be destroyed,” Galadriel stated.

“I meant, what then for the Uruk?” Adar furrowed his brow. “Will your High King permit us to return home in peace? Or will he proceed with his plans to invade Mordor?” He asked and Galadriel did not answer because what could she possibly tell? She was known to be an Orc-slayer. “The shadow has not only overcome you, it has overcome all Elvendom. In the end, your drive to prove your virtue will work right into Sauron’s designs.”

“You speak lies,” Galadriel shook her head as she spoke through gritted teeth. “Hoping I will reveal something.”

“You have already revealed everything I hoped you would and more,” Adar answered calmly and walked out of the tent.

He did not even look at you because he was so focused on the battle that was to come – he had his confirmation about Halrand being Sauron. About him being in Eregion. Now he was an unstoppable force.

“Adar…” You called out for him but he was out of the tent already.

You looked at Galadriel with a sigh before gathering your skirts and rushing out after him. So did she.

“It is time!” Your husband announced in Black Speech to his children. You were pretty fluent in this language by now.

“All of Eregion may well be under Sauron’s control by now,” Galadriel was trying to make him realise the truth. “It will take far more than a legion of your children to lay siege to it!”

But Adar was leading her to the edge of the hill from where the real power of your army could be seen. The truth be told – most of the Orcs had left Mordor to march towards Eregion. You had been the one insisting on that back in the day.

“Did you really think I would attempt to challenge the might of Sauron with a single legion?” Adar asked and stopped as he looked down at your soldiers below the hill. You stood behind him and you had to admit – the view was admirable and was filling you with pride. However, you knew very well that those poor and filthy creatures were being led into a trap.

“Now that you have confirmed beyond any doubt who he is and told me who carries your Ring, Eregion will fall,” Adar turned his head around to look at Galadriel with a smirk. “And Sauron with it.”

“No…” Galadriel looked down, visibly overthinking something. “This must be what he wants. Sauron has no army of his own, so he’s lured yours here instead,” she laid her eyes upon Adar as your heart skipped a beat.

She even found your eyes, too, as if she was trying to make you see the truth your husband could not. She was able to see the treachery but she still could not see the deceiver. You suddenly realised Halbrand’s task had not been very difficult.

“He wants you to attack Eregion,” she added but you remained still. It would be suspicious to agree with her words eagerly but you hoped she would make Adar change his mind. After all, he wanted to protect his children the most.

“Bind her. She will be useful later,” he ordered instead and three Orcs hurried to your side to grab Galadriel.

Of course. The love he had for his children would always be overshadowed by his hatred towards Sauron. His personal revenge, his own retribution.

“I beg you…” Galadriel addressed Adar but he ignored her so she laid her eyes upon you. “Do not let your husband be a fool! Do not do this! Do not take his lure!”

Her desperate words and her behaviour as she was being dragged away by the Orcs were sending a shiver down your spine because you could see yourself in her – you could see yourself doing the same to protect him but you could not.

You were terrified of Adar’s reaction after finding out the truth about you. He would never trust you again.

And, after all, Sauron’s grasp around your heart was still tight and painful. Perhaps you were only a tool in his scheme but you still did not wish for his downfall or his death.

“I will make him choke on it,” Adar remarked.

“No!” Galadriel shouted. “You mustn’t. This is all his design! This is what Sauron wants! Whatever forces were encouraging you to come here were his!”

You looked away, nervously.

Thankfully, your husband was too occupied with his thirst for the battle to truly think about Galadriel’s words. She had no idea, of course, that it had been you encouraging Adar to march with his armies towards Eregion. But she had said one sentence too much.

Glûg handed Adar a war horn but he did it hesitantly, causing his Lord Father’s impatience. The Orc was visibly worried and startled by Galadriel’s screams and warnings.

Adar was not, however. He blew the horn and a malicious feeling filled your heart – there was no way back.

Your betrayal was definite as you had just brought Sauron his army.

MASTERLIST

#adar x reader #sauron x reader #annatar x reader #halbrand x reader #lilysfiction

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i-do-not-even-know-why · 1 day ago

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Some people were talking about Vi's "hypocrisy"...

(Spoilers below. Read at your own risk.)

And nope. Those are lies. Slander. And here are receipts proving the same...

Saw a few folks calling Vi a hypocrite because she prevented Caitlyn from taking the shot at Jinx. Since there was a kid in the way. Even though, APPARENTLY, Vi was all for it during season one when Jayce was concerned.

Jayce didn't want to kill the boy. He was aiming for someone else. The shot hit the little man because Jayce didn't even notice him there. He thought there was no one in the way.

That's why it hurts so much. That's why it stings and breaks Jayce's resolve. That's why he is disillusioned. He just wanted to do magic. Make the world a little better than before. And instead, he is now playing politician and soldier. And claiming lives.

This is Jayce's reaction when he sees the boy who died because of him...

And this is Vi, realising how much it's affecting him...

It's the intent that matters here.

Jayce didn't mean for the blow to land on the boy. If he knew the kid was there, Jayce wouldn't have taken the shot.

Caitlyn on the other hand wanted to shoot at Jinx while knowing Isha was in the way. She wanted to do it despite a kid literally acting as a human shield for Jinx.

I don't care how great of a shot Caitlyn is. When you risk a child's life, even if it is for the greater good, that's already taking it too far. And considering the fact that Vi clocked Caitlyn going in for the kill, you really think Isha wouldn't have?!

Once the bullet is out, no one can control it. Not even Caitlyn. And that very well could have led to Isha's death.

That kid wants Jinx around. And she is willing to die in the process.

Another point to note is the context.

Vi and Jayce were trying to dismantle the distribution of Shimmer. And when Jayce saw what it took, he pulled away. Vi didn't want to.

Silco's death was important to her. But it was now even more imperative because a kid died in the process. His demise would have been in vain if they didn't finish what they set out to do.

Vi and Jayce almost come to blows over it. And once Jayce lets her keep the gauntlets and walks away, there is Vi mourning the needless loss of a life...

I don't really understand what part of all this is hypocritical on Vi's end.

In the first instance, the kid had already died. In the second, Vi was making sure that didn't happen again.

And you know what? Even if it was hypocrisy, people are allowed to alter their motivations and decisions in the face of such fucked up and traumatic experiences.

Or in general, even! That's essentially the whole point. It's the push and pull of everyday occurences which help us evolve. Either for the better, or the worse.

Here's Jayce. Broken over the life he took...

Vi sees it. And of course she wouldn't want for it to happen to someone else. Especially Caitlyn.

Vi knows Cait is not the kind of person who would go through with it in her right mind. And that's the thing. She isn't in her right mind. Grief has overtaken her and now she will make sure it becomes everyone else's problem.

Also, if not being hypocritical is so important to you... How can you still stand with Caitlyn? What she is doing goes against not only who she is as a person, but also what she set out to do.

And that's the kicker, isn't it? Change is the whole point. They are undergoing tremendous amounts of irrevocable damage that will leave lasting impressions.

Caitlyn is so blinded by her desire for revenge that she doesn't even register any remorse. She is adamant on going after Jinx, no matter the cost. Even when it's at her own expense.

And for the people limiting Caitlyn's arc to nothing more than a sexy lady telling the world to go to hell...

Please open your eyes, or at least allow the others, to understand the layers of oppression she represents now. Not only to Zaun and the people of the Undercity, whose only fault was being born in the wrong place at the wrong time, but also for Vi.

That blorbo has gone through so much already. And obviously she has made mistakes. The whole premise of the show revolves around this facet. 'Cause that's what people do.

However, it's how you deal with it that counts more. And maybe it's just me, but holding your favourite characters and people accountable does not really lessen your love for them. Being blind in your devotion will definitely. 'Cause the disillusionment which follows is not pretty.

Know that I don't mean to offend anyone. Nor do I wish to criticize your perspective. If you feel attacked by my points because you made a joke or something over the issues I talked about here, that's not my fault. Nor my intent. Don't take it personally.

At the end of the day, it's just a show. You do you. I just cannot sit back when people spread misinformation or make baseless ignorant comments that are NOWHERE close to the truth.

It just takes a few minutes to fact check yourself. Seconds even, if you know how to do it. Maybe it's my fault for expecting better.

Anywho, that's it on this from me. Enjoy the show! And live and let live!!!

#Arcane Spoilers #CaitVi #Caitlyn Kiramman #Vi #Jayce Talis #Jinx #Isha #Fandom Discourse #Sometimes I do wonder if we watch the same show...#Etc #Take care!!!

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sakurasnowfall · 1 day ago

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@starlightshadowsworld posted :

Atsushi gets de-aged, immediately kicks the nearest person in the shins and runs off to hide ontop of the nearest cabinet. He makes himself as small as possible, hugging his knees close.

But before he did, he grabbed a nearby glass cup. Atsushi breaks it cleanly into pieces, not even flinching as he picks up a large glass shard.

Atsushi’s terrified, doesn’t know where he is or who these people are. But immediately goes on the offensive. Because before the Agency no one has ever shown Atsushi kindness and meant it.

His hands tremble but his grip on the shard is tight. He’ll surely be punished anyway, for his little stunt and simply for existing.

But Atsushi won’t go down without a fight. He wont make it easy for them even if he’s scared. They’ll have to drag him kicking and screaming.

He doesn’t notice that everyone in the room looks surprised and concerned, before horrifying realisation hits them all.

They tell him they won’t hurt him but Atsushi’s heard that before. He won’t fall for that, not again.

Now, continued by me :

Their words serve only as a repellent as he backs even further into the away, a cornered animal, clutching his piece of glass. He is hardly aware of the blood dripping down his hand as it cuts into him. After all, what was the sting of a little cut compared to what these people might do to him?

One girl - wearing a red kimono - steps closer, garnering a hiss from him.

Atsushi eyes the girl, brandishing his glass as soon as he sees her reach for the thing around her neck . A phone? Odd choice, but sometimes the oddest choices hurt the most. His bravery washes away with the new tears he curses for falling, and he huddles up smaller, shaking as the girl approaches.

*Atushi* She says his name? How does she know his name?

*You helped me once. You don’t know me right now, but you did.......* Her voice sounds nice. Soft. Calming. But he would not fall for it. Not again. Not again....when they had tricked him so so many times. He was no longer one to believe in fairy tales such as a tender touch...or family...or love. He throws his glass, hard and fast, right at her face, almost before he could think.

And she CAUGHT it? What would she do now? That one mistake might have cost him his life. He curled up even smaller, heart pounding, desperately trying to prevent the new tears from falling. After a moment of nothing, he cracked open an eye, and dared a precarious peek downwards. The girl looks at the sharp for a brief moment, before bending down to set it gently on the floor, and kicking it away. The boy’s eyes widen. What was she doing? Oh...oh, she was going to use only her hands. Or perhaps she had a blade. He turned out to be right when she reached behind her and extracted a long knife in a sheath. So he was right. A blade. He flinched, but that to, this strange girl places on the floor and kicks away. She locks eyes with him. Bluebell eyes clashing with his own violet-green ones. The hiss he had at the ready froze when he saw her eyes, for they were a glassy, tear-soaked mirror of his own. Very slowly, he untightens the tight ball he has been holding himself in. He creeps forward to the edge of the cabinet top, peering over. The girl is still standing there. Slowly, as if afraid to disturb the air itself, she raises her hand, palm outstretched to him. He hesitates. She lowers it, backing up a couple steps.

*It’s okay.* Her voice sounds so kind. And again, he smells a strange scent and feels the strange feeling that she too is afraid. Maybe, after so long of being the one who was scared, seeing fear in someone else was enough to take the leap, as he leaps off the top of the cabinet, and down to the floor, standing to look up at her with crious eyes. She kneels down to his level. She kneels DOWN to HIM. Imagine that! So he comes closer, and this time, when she reaches out her hand, he takes it. He is not sure why he begins to cry, but here is now, holding on to this mysterious, kind, afraid girl. He tinks he has heard this kind of contact described as a *hug.* He feels another hand on his shoulder, looking up to see an arm covered in white bandage, and a gentle smile on the face of a brunette.

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

Atsushi hugs his family. Kunnikida, Ranpo, Kenji, Fukuzawa, Naiomi, Junichiro. He bends down to better match Kyoka’s height before hugging her again as well.

*Thank you, Kyoka-Chan.*

#@starlightshadowsworld #@starlightshadowsworld I tried to match the style you wrote it in #BSD #Bungou Stray Dogs #Nakajima Atsushi #Izumi Kyoka #Platonic #Beast Beneath the Moonlight

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bowsnstrings · 2 days ago

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🎀♡Love In The Studio♡🎀

Masterlist

Warning!: Nothing much, just fluff!😭💖

It took four months just to book this studio session, four long months of waiting and waiting, now Ony finally has the chance to shoot his shot, and he damn sure isn’t about to screw up this opportunity to work with his dream artist. Princess, the girl he couldn’t get his mind off of, especially after he heard her voice for the first time and began streaming her music every opportunity he had, even her underrated songs that she had released before she got a deal.

He got her number from Sasha, Mikasa's mutual friend. He sees Mikasa all the time, producing with her sometimes, and last year, one of their collabs went viral and got her over a million more monthly listeners on all her streaming platforms. She owed him a favor, so she pulled a few things and got her agent to connect them.

Sasha was tough, wanting to make sure he had the best intentions before she let her number-one client and best friend go to a studio with someone she didn’t know, but Ony was fine playing the long game. He asked to reach out to Princess personally so they could get familiar with each other, and they had been texting back and forth for two weeks.

It started casually, simply sending a text saying, “Hey, this is Ony, how are you?” After typing and re-typing the message about a hundred times. He stood over his phone for ten minutes as he waited, nearly jumping out of his skin when she finally replied, saying, “Hi Ony, I’m good. How are you?” Their texts only got more comfortable from there, which led to him inviting her to his studio.

He was already geeking out a bit, showing up an hour early just to make sure the place was clean and the track was ready for her to hop on and get to work. They had negotiated a nice payout for her; Ony didn’t even want to charge her a flat fee, only taking ten percent of the share once it’s released. He thought that was fair given the fact that he asked who he considered one of the best singers ever to make a song with him.

Two soft knocks sounded on the door, causing Ony to quickly scramble to clean himself up to look presentable. He shouted out, “Come in!” Once he felt like he looked appropriate, shoving his hands in his pockets to appear nonchalant. She arrived four o’clock, on the dot. Punctual and perfect as she stepped through the door. Her hair was the first thing he saw, swaying gently in thick long strands, her nails raking through one side as she looked up to greet him. Her smile would’ve had him melting to the floor if he were standing, so cute with her full blush tinted cheeks.

She wore a pink dress, fitting but casual, tight at the top around her breasts, and rounding out down her hips. It made her look so effortlessly beautiful in nothing but thin cotton as she naturally swayed in with her white and gold Coach purse.

“Hi Ony,” Princess began as he pushed himself away from the table, getting onto his feet to properly greet her after staring dumbfounded for a moment. He’d almost forgotten how beautiful she was in person, having to rely on photos for the past four months to make up for the absence.

”Hey Ma,” He greeted her with a smile, his teeth absent of his usual grills, out of his amped up rapper persona and more calm, which she noticed immediately. The last time they saw each other he had been drinking and partying, but now she saw a much bigger effort on his part to be nice to her. The studio was absent of the clouds of smoke and alcohol she expected, though that’s what it would usually be like, Ony knew she would like a relaxing space to work.

He had the lights turned down some, and sprayed the room with some lavender spray that Connie said she might like. He’d have to remember to thank him after Princess looked around the room, smiling until she looked up at him and realised how he was towering over her. His arms were the size of her head, and even in the hoodie she could tell by the way he restrained himself in their hug that he was huge everywhere. Her face suddenly became very warm, s

“Come take a seat.” Ony nodded towards the chair next to his, moving to the other side of the room, opening the door before turning to her. “You want something to drink, eat? We got soda, waters, chips.” He listed off, trying to gauge her as she spun to face him. She still had that warm smile, like he was doing a good job so far, trying his hardest to be a gentleman.

“If you have bottled water that would be nice.” Princess asked politely, shrinking in on herself under his gaze. He was looking at her like she was everything, and she couldn’t understand why he was treating her like some guest of honor.

“Lemme get that for you.” He said as he stepped out into the adjacent kitchen. His studio was fitted out, custom made and obviously tailored to his style. Retro posters of iconic rappers all over the walls, leather chairs and couches, even the engineer console had matching knobs. Ony obviously took the time out for the upkeep of this place, the floors even looked like they’d been mopped.

As he stepped back into the room carrying a bottle of water for her, she turned to him beaming. “This place is so nice Ony.” Princess gushed as he walked up to her, dropping her drink onto the table and taking a seat.

“Thanks, I just finished it up a couple weeks ago.” He said, leaving out the part about rushing to finish it before their studio session. Connie and Eren were pissy for weeks when Ony had them come in and help clean and decorate the place.

“Well, you did a good job. I heard from Mikasa that you’ve been doing your thing as well, you had two songs chart in the top ten.” Princess congratulated him as she opened her purse, pulling out a pink notebook with a matching pom pom pen.

“Yeah, still haven’t gotten a number one yet though. That’s why I had to hit you up.” It made her feel good to know that he was thinking of her. Especially after she spent so much time today just to look nice for their session. She’d never admit it, but she spent four hours trying to get dressed and look casual at the same time.

“Listen,” She began, nervously biting at her bottom lip, her gloss shiny under the studio lights. “I know last time we saw each other-”

“Don’t sweat it, Ma.” Ony shrugged it off, leaning back to look at her. She looked confused, but let him finish, tapping her nails against her thighs. “You gave me the idea for this song. Wrote the lyrics same night, swear.” He excitedly explained, turning to the messy composition book he had overflowing with random papers and scribbles.

Princess watched him flip through his own messy handwriting until he found the right page. Big bold letters titling the song, “Cinderella”.

“Ony what’s up with the name?” She giggled out, glancing at him to catch the way he lit up at the sound of her voice. A grin finding its way to his face, letting out a chuckle, he felt so different around her. Like being himself was more than accepted, and her laugh, he could bottle her laugh up and hear it for days.

“Told you, you’re my inspiration. My Cinderella.” Their eyes locked for a moment, fleeting but sincere. Princess felt like she was a kid again, falling head first into her first crush, butterflies fluttering in her belly. Ony never really felt what it was he was feeling, he didn’t even know what to name it, but it felt so good. “Whatever you don’t like we’ll change. Even the name, but I hope you keep it.”

Painstakingly, they went over each lyric and note of the song, Princess listening to the beat and Ony showing her the parts of the song he’d really like her input on. He was nervously glancing at her every two seconds as he watched her silently think over everything until she finally said, “I like it,” Ony finally letting out a breath of relief, watching her look over his notebook a bit.

“I just want to change up the last part a little.” She shyly mumbled, tapping her nails against the side of the table. Her stomach bubbled with anxiousness, usually agreeing to whatever another artist wanted to do without complaining, but Ony seemed genuine enough to be open to some criticism. Besides, he asked her to change things as she saw fit.

“Yeah?” He turned to her, curiosity painted on his face, excited to see her get out of her shell a bit and give her input. “What were you thinking?”

“Well, I think the lyrics should be, You’re on my mind all the time, like every day, every night. I don't want to fuss or fight; just want to make you mine.” Her voice carried out in the room, high and light in her perfect soft tone. She scribbled on her journal for a second to take down the lyrics before looking up at him and seeing his star-struck face.

“Yeah, that’s-that’s perfect.” He mumbled, nervously smiling and scratching the back of his head. “Let’s roll with that.” She smiled at him, nodding her head and making sure to finish writing down her bridge. He admired her as she did, feeling like he was acting down bad for her already, but he couldn’t really care much about it at the moment.

“And the chorus?” She asked, her hair falling close to her face, and Ony wanted nothing more than to reach out and move it for her, especially to lay a kiss onto those pretty lips of hers. Her pink pen tapping against the notepad as she concentrated, her face in a scrunch with a pretty pout that had him looking away to keep from growing in his sweats.

“Yeah, play around with it. Make it your own, y’know?” He suggested, happy with how comfortable she seemed in her element working with music. In a way, her passion reminded him of when he was still coming up, just hoping for his big break. It was nice to see she hadn’t lost that. “Why don’t we order some food? Seems like we’ll be here a while.”

They agreed on the sushi place nearby, mostly because Princess recommended it, and even though Ony doesn’t eat sushi he wasn’t going to turn down a spot she wanted to eat at. While the food was being delivered they worked through all of the lyrics, finally finished and ready to step in the booth. Ony asked to go first, wanting to knock out all of his parts as quickly as he could to get most of the legwork done faster.

As Ony was rapping he couldn’t help but feel like all of his hard work so far led him here, to impress one person with all he had to offer. His sacrifice led him to be in the studio with someone he not only respected, but was feeling a type of way about. He locked eyes with her multiple times as he spoke into the microphone, his lyrics leaping from within like he was speaking directly to her. It gave Princess something to try and focus on, especially since he was distracting her by looking so good in the booth.

Princess nearly hopped out of her chair to do her part, Ony sitting down and watching the way her hips swayed as she walked away from him, nearly pulling the knobs off of his mixer. The shit was too expensive for him to be tearing it up like he was, but he really couldn’t help it with the way she pulled him in a trance every time they were near. “Do I sound alright?” Princess speaking up, her voice floating through the speakers like her voice was made for it.

“Yeah, sounds good, Ma.” He spoke back to her, shaking his head to get back into the mindset he needed in order to work. “Don’t be nervous. I know it’s your first time doing R and B, but you got the talent and the lyrics for it.”

It sure boosted your confidence to hear from a hot man how talented you are, maybe that’s why the first few takes were giggly and full of little mistakes. While it took her a minute to get started, Princess was a natural as soon as she put her mind to it, singing her heart out while following the melody. Ony watching her with a smile, knowing deep down that this was going to be his best record of all time as he saw her really get into it. Nothing could throw her off from the zone she was in, not even when it was time to add her ad-libs in, zooming through the last leg of the song with ease.

When she finally stepped out of the booth it was nearing seven-o’clock. Her sushi and Ony’s chicken and rice half eaten, both pouring all of their attention into the final product. Ony was finishing up synthesizing their voices as Princess sat back next to him. “What are you going to do when you leave?” Ony asked, glancing from the side to see her flush and turn to him.

“Oh, I have to meet the girls for rehearsals. I got a big performance coming up.” She spilled excitedly.

“Alright, you singing gospel?”

“No, I only sing gospel in church now. I’m about to drop my first R and B single in a week.” Ony tried to ignore those same feelings that he felt in his stomach every time Princess would smile or ramble with excitement. She was just so sweet, so different from what he was used to. Everyone he knew was jaded, hardened by life, but she still had that magic. It made him want to be around her just to have a bit of that too.

“Well, let me know when the performance is. I wanna support, ya’ know?”

“Sure, I’d love it if you could come. It’d be nice to see you again.” Princess admitted softly, twirling the ends of her hair as she tried to look everywhere but at him. That only gave Ony a glimpse at the earrings she was wearing, gold diamond hoops, classy and expensive. He thought she wore them well, but could use some more like them.

“I’ll be sure to be there then.” Ony smiled, genuine, without thinking. Finally pressing play on the finished project, he and Princess sat together and listened to how they sounded. It was perfection, so good both of them sat up and looked at each other in awe, giddy at the sound of their new number one hit they were going to drop. Their minds were racing with all of the things they had to do next, photoshoots, performances, a music video. The ideas were endless, but one thing was for sure, when they work together, they make magic happen.

Thanks For Reading! (xoxo) - Bow 🎀

#bowsthoughts #Spotify #anime #aot #aot onyankopon #ony x black reader #ony x y/n #onyankapon #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankopon x reader #rapper onyankopon #rapper ony #ony x chubby reader #ony x reader #Ony #blacklivesmatter #black beauty #black women #black tumblr

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