#so I had a small crisis and ended up feeling some type of way
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Light Pollution
I don't recognize the stars anymore.
Terrestrial life is one of changes It rises, it falls, it expands, it shrinks And while the stars are not immutable Their span is on a much longer scale
These lights above me are not the ones So constant and familiar That my two and four-legged ancestors both Could navigate their way back home by them
These lights are not the twinkling diamonds Born from the exhale of a warm sigh That captured the minds and hearts Of scientists and artisans for centuries
Their sparkle is cold, lifeless metal And impersonal binary. Yet these are not the capsules of my grandparents Crafted with hope and fear and passion
In a time when that vast black above Was not prime real estate to be simply colonized But a terrifying unknown to be respected As well as a new frontier to explore
These are cheap trinkets, baubles Manufactured en masse then left to rot A passing whim of a creator Who thinks himself a god of men But who has already grown bored Of his own toys like a child
They form a dirty choker around a blue wife's neck She has always been faithful to him Even while their heirs slowly poison her While he looks longingly at the mistress Dressed in her tempting shade of blood Waiting down a long and dangerous cosmic hallway
A new star attempts to rise and join its siblings Forced upwards by man's sheer will It rumbles, it roars, it streaks across the sky Searing red as something goes wrong
The chemical smell of fuel instead of wormwood.
Two hundred, five hundred A thousand years ago This would have been regarded as an omen A sign of the coming end of days.
But the true prophets have been blinded Their clear skies clouded by these false stars Placed by a false prophet, a man playing god A father of lies and broken promises of innovation
And so no one listens and heeds the warnings Until his stars come falling down A hundred thousand heralds burning bright Like the stars they pretended to be Revelations that are realized One minute too late
…I don't recognize the stars anymore.
#writing#poetry#Elon Musk#Space X#froggy writes#croak.txt#look I haven't used my writing tag in forever#but tonight I looked up at the sky while taking out trash and didn't recognize the constellations#and this is right after Musk shot off another one of his fucking rockets to boot#so I had a small crisis and ended up feeling some type of way#and writing a poem where I compare Musk to the antichrist is the result#I'm not really a poet or anything#I do not know how professional poets write things#so this may be like...terrible from a technical standpoint#but sometimes words gotta happen#especially when you live 20 minutes away from a billionaire's stupid fucking playground
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Reincarnated!Roger Luffy x Reincarnated!Rouge Reader — a small drabble of mine!

It was hard working for the Navy, whenever the man whom you adored so dearly was bound to be your enemy for life.
How it happened? It was a long story… And you couldn’t quite put it all into words.
It started two years ago, all the way back in Alabasta, when you were sent out for a job with your coworker, Smoker.
The two of you could be considered as ‘friends’. He rambled to you the whole way there about a wanted pirate who went by the name of ‘Straw Hat Luffy’, at the time bearing a 30 million Berry bounty.
He was just a rookie. It would be easy for someone of your rank to take him down. You were respected by even the three Admirals themselves, probably only a level below them in terms of power.
So why was it that when you did come face to face with him, the two of you just locked eyes, as if entranced by each other.
Your heart skipped a beat in that very moment. And for some reason, he smiled at you, making your sudden jittery behavior and nervousness a thousand times worse.
You were so ashamed of yourself. You allowed him to simply run past you with that toothy grin of his, beaming with confidence and recklessness.
Smoker didn’t let you off lightly after watching that scene. But you didn’t argue against him, no. You fully believed you deserved it.
But why did that happen in the first place? He was a pirate, and you didn’t take yourself as the type to fall in love at first sight. You’ve never done that.
You couldn’t continue to help Smoker and the swordswoman always by his side, Tashigi, in capturing the Straw Hats. Especially their captain.
It was like your body acted on its own, forcing you to leave. After that encounter, you endured a mental crisis for nearly an entire month.
He just felt so… familiar. It unsettled you.
Why did it feel like you had met him before?
After Alabasta, you somehow ended getting tied up in his daily pirate schemes, as if you just couldn’t escape him.
Sabaody Archipelago, the Navy Headquarters, Punk Hazard… You could name even more times that you’ve met with him in abnormal circumstances.
And every time you fought him, every accidental brush of hands that made your cheeks heat up, your feelings got worse, and worse, and worse…
Why him?
Of all people, why him?
To make things worse, you could feel yourself… distancing from your duty. Your job. Like he was influencing you.
You started thinking weird things, strange things.
‘The World Government? I don’t trust them.’
You didn’t trust them? Yes you did. They wanted justice for the world, and you did, too.
‘They’re corrupted.’
No they aren’t.
‘In the name of justice? Don’t make me laugh. They don’t care about justice… They only want power.’
It was like there was a second voice in your head. An alter ego, almost…
All the while, in the midst of those thoughts… Your mind always reeled back to him. His stupid face that made your heart flutter. That smile of his, that was so infectious you couldn’t help but return a smile, which you didn’t realize most of the time.
He would point it out mid-fight, too.
“Hey, you’re smiling!”
“You’re seeing things, Straw Hat!”
You also couldn’t help but realize that during your meaningless duels, all his attention would be solely on you. Of course, when fighting someone, that was normal. But the way he looked at you… Did enemies look at each other like that?
His eyes shone, full of adoration. He always smiled at you, even if you wanted him to take you seriously. He didn’t gaze at you like he did his other opponents. He always stared them down with anger, or irritation.
He hardly knew anything about you, other than how well you fought when you clashed on the battlefield. But at the same time, he felt like he knew everything about you.
It took you by surprise one day, when he opened up his own confusion to you.
“It feels like I’ve met you before. Before Vivi’s country!”
Before Alabasta? That was where you first met two years ago.
And he was saying that he felt like he knew you before your meeting in the country?
“You must be crazy, Straw Hat…”
You said that, but you felt the same. And… he said he felt the same. You would’ve never expected him to be on the road of confusion, as you were.
You hated to admit it, but Straw Hat Luffy was the center of your thoughts ever since your first meeting. He indirectly influenced you, resulting in you slowly developing a distasteful attitude toward the World Government and all your coworkers.
He’s never even said anything to you about hating the World Government, yet your thoughts of him were changing you.
For better, or for worse? You had no idea.
It was impossible for you to deny the way your eyes softened, and the way your muscles became less tense when he was around.
In battle, you’d have to be the one to fight him if you were present. No one else. Not even if an Admiral offered to assist you in taking him down.
Because for some reason… For some odd, odd reason…
…You were paranoid that they’d be able to defeat him, and he’d die on an execution platform, leaving you alone with your feelings until your own death.
Why did it feel like… that’s already happened before?
You couldn’t let it happen again.
#one piece#fluff#angst#luffy x you#monkey d. luffy x reader#luffy x reader#one piece luffy#mugiwara no luffy#straw hat luffy#monkey d. luffy#luffy#op luffy#x reader#roger x rouge#reincarnation#one piece x reader#one piece x y/n#luffy x y/n
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Aemond Targaryen — The Beloved Son
— summary: If Aemond could not seek love from the only woman who would take him in her arms and caress his hair, then he needed to find a replacement. An older woman who could make him feel safe and loved again.
— pairing: Aemond Targaryen x brothel worker!reader
— type: smut, dark
— word count: 4.9k
— tags/warnings: female!reader, DEAD DOVE: DO NO EAT, rough sex, oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, mommy kink, breeding kink, breast worship, nipple licking, nipple play, overstimulation, pregnancy kink, dacryphilia, rough kissing, disturbed themes, age gap (older woman/younger man), Aemond is 19 and Reader is 29, biting, crying, pre-relationship, unhealthy relationships, referenced character death, Lucerys Velaryon mentioned, past underage sex, past child abuse, religious guilt and conflict, crisis of faith, blood licking, implied forced pregnancy, mommy issues, labor mentioned, implied Targtower Incest (mother/son) BUT NOT REALLY, implied Aemond Targaryen/Alicent Hightower BUT NOT REALLY, past Targcest (older sister/younger brother), past Aemond Targaryen/Helaena Targaryen, referenced non-consensual somnophilia, referenced rape/non-con, referenced breastfeeding, referenced lactation kink, minor Helaegon, Aegon Targaryen mentioned, past Aemond Targaryen/Madam Sylvi, underage dubcon, minor Alicent Hightower/Criston Cole, curse words, mild angst, ambiguous/open ending, switch!Aemond, sub!reader, canon divergence (Pre-The Dance of the Dragons), porn with plot. no use of y/n, english is not my first language.
— author's notes¹: I decided to explore Aemond's "mommy issues" side. There's no real incest between Aemond and Alicent, but I put it as a trigger warning because there are scenes about them that can be uncomfortable to read. And also because I see their mother and son relationship too complex and intense. In my opinion, Aemond had an adoration and love for his mother in the season one that the writers left aside during the season two.
— author's notes²: Furthermore, I believe that Aemond's loss of virginity with Madam Sylvi may also influenced a part of his weird behaviour. So this time I wrote about the consequences of this in Aemond's mind, even a few years later. I see what happened with him in the books/show as a real child abuse, so don't read this fic if you've triggers with these themes. I do not support any form of abuse, this is just fiction.
— crossposting: AO3
❥ about me • Aemond masterlist • HOTD masterlist • main masterlist
Aemond needed to vent. He needed some time away from all the chaos that must have been in the Red Keep since he confessed to killing Lucerys. Some time away from all the chaos he caused.
He remembered everything quite accurately. How he arrived at the castle with wide eyes and his body drenched, entering his mother's chambers without even knocking on the door. Alicent had let out a loud scream at the sudden appearance and covered her slim body with the white bedsheets. Despite there being no one there with her, his mother's body was sweaty and her cheeks were flushed, as if she had cum just a few minutes ago. At first he ignored the strange sight and muttered, with his voice trembling and weak, that he had become a kinslayer.
He remembered explaining confusingly how he was trying to scare Lucerys and ended up losing control of Vhagar, causing the old dragon to chew every bit of his nephew, only some remains of his tiny dragon falling from the sky.
He remembered Alicent widening her eyes, still covering her small breasts and telling Aemond to wait for her outside the room.
As much as he wanted to leave the place and wait for her in the hallway like the good son he had always been, Aemond nodded and left. Not just her chambers, but also the castle. He looked for any clothing that did not look so expensive as to give away his noble origins, and wore it along with a dark suit. He passed by Ser Criston Cole on the way out of the Red Keep, ignoring the fact that the guard's armor was not orderly as usual, and said something about needing to get some air away from there. Aemond did not wait for a response from the older man, knowing that it was only a matter of a few minutes for Alicent to look for Criston and tell him what her beloved boy had done.
Aemond was lost. He knew that.
As soon as Aemond entered the brothel, he looked everywhere for Madam Sylvi, his sweaty and trembling hands searching for the only woman who could perhaps help him.
When he was chasing Aegon together with Ser Criston to take him by force to his own coronation, he did not expect to be reunited with the prostitute who had taken his virginity. Aemond had an excellent memory and remembered that night very well, every second of that embarrassing moment. If he tried harder, Aemond could even feel Madam Sylvi's full lips around his still developing cock, or the way she lifted his wine-flushed face to her large breasts. Aegon demanded that she not be too soft with his younger brother, saying that a thirteen years old should already be brave enough to handle a little sexual intensity. However, the woman respected Aemond's nervousness and guided him calmly.
That night had not been so bad at all, even if he had not wanted it. He never returned to any brothel, his mother's disgusted reaction to Aegon's impulsive and selfish decision and her plea to Aemond not indulge in such promiscuity made him give up on going there again. He should do as she asked, marry a pretty noble lady and be a loyal husband, be Aegon's opposite.
He did not want to hurt his mother's feelings, he did not want her to look at him with the same look of disgust she gave her eldest son. He wanted to keep making Alicent proud, being her beloved son.
But Aemond had already failed with her the moment he decided to act like a spiteful boy and chase Lucerys through the skies. Now that he was a Kinslayer, his mother would fear him. She would be ashamed of him. I would see him as a murderer, cursing their whole family forever.
And if Aemond could not seek love from the only woman who would take him in her arms and caress his hair, then he needed to find a replacement. An older woman who could make him feel safe and loved again.
Perhaps Madam Sylvi could do that. When she spoke to Aemond when he and Ser Criston were looking for Aegon, she made it clear that he had grown up so well. She looked surprised, perhaps even horny.
Now, after six years without visiting the place, Aemond was there again. The place where he had promised his dear mother in the name of the Seven that he would never set foot again.
He needed to seek affection from Sylvi or another whore who would make him feel as loved as Alicent made him feel before he grew up. He needed to feel worthy and loved by a mother again.
That was a busy night at the brothel for you, too many clients for too few prostitutes to deal with them. Madam Sylvi warned the women that she would take a day off to rest, a privilege that only the oldest and most renowned courtesans were entitled to. Most of her favorite clients seemed angry about this fact, and even though you and the other girls explained the reasons as calmly as possible, no one cared about what you had to say.
Some people just rolled their eyes and walked away, others snorted and threw coins at you so you could do her job then, and some were even excited about fucking a different cunt.
It was not unknown to you why Sylvi had so many customers who frequented the place in search of her. She was very experienced, a beautiful older woman, with large hips and big breasts. She understood how to please men and even women, both sexually and emotionally.
"Where is Madam Sylvi?" A deep voice caught your attention from behind your shoulder, making you jump and widen your eyes, sighing embarrassed when you saw that it was just a customer.
"She is not here today, sir." You forced a smile, trying not to look too much at the eye patch the boy wore. It was strangely familiar and he had facial features that seemed more handsome than most of the men you served, even if he wore a hood that shadowed his details.
With a frown, the man clenched his jaw and muttered one more time. "I need her tonight. Right now."
You recognized almost all of Sylvi's frequent men, and that one was completely unknown to you. You bit your tongue to try not to question him about why he was so desperate to see the woman if he had never been there recently. However, you took a deep breath and forced another smile, your voice sweet and hiding your curiosity. "My apologies, sir, she is not here tonight. But you can look for another courtesan if you want to, we have many options." You reassured and tried to walk past him to go find another man or some woman who could pay you a few coins, before being stopped by the man's hand on your arm, keeping you close to him.
"Well, you are free to please me." It was not a question. He already knew you did not have any customers waiting. You stared at that violet eye for a few seconds, before swallowing hard, your throat hurting while you nodded, having no choice whatsoever. "Then get an empty, private room for us immediately."
You opened your mouth to explain that the isolated places required a greater amount of gold than the common services, but the man interrupted you, handing you a heavy bag full of coins that were almost slipping out of the opening. "I assume you will make it worth the price, woman."
The moment you and Aemond entered the isolated room, he watched you pulling the curtains until they closed, keeping the events that would follow there a secret from other people. Although you still did not realize who he really was, there was an expression on your face indicating that you were suspicious about something. Perhaps it was the money he was willing to spend without complaining during just one night with someone who was not even the courtesan he was looking for, perhaps it was the eye patch that left a little part of his scar exposed, perhaps it was the extremely pale skin...
It could be many things that were making you suspect there was something unusual happening.
When the other prostitutes finished pouring some wine into two glasses and warming the place with candles, Aemond finally cleared his throat, almost as if he were embarrassed or did not know what to do.
"How old are you?" He asked in a more vulnerable voice than he intended, cursing himself for it.
Your brow furrowed at the rude question. There were men who sought out younger and less experienced whores to satisfy some dark desires, but you doubted that was the case. "Twenty-nine, sir."
Aemond sighed and nodded, satisfied with the answer. You might not be as old as Madam Sylvi or Alicent herself, but you were a maturer age than his. It made him less tense. "Good... That is good." He muttered, his single eye directed to the ground when some thoughts shuffled through his mind. A part of Aemond hated himself for having listened to his mother's advice to never set foot in a brothel again. Now, he was ten and nine and barely knew how to talk to a whore, while Aegon must have already fucked even the one he was about to try something on. "Has King Aegon II already enjoyed your services?"
His words caught you off guard, making you fidget with some discomfort, sitting on the mattresses around the floor, your robe tied and expecting anything other than that. "I cannot expose any of my clients' secrets, much less our King."
Aemond hummed without surprise, already expecting an empty answer like that. He took off the hood that shadowed the most part of his face, revealing his long silver hair tied with a not very effective ponytail and the violet eye that shone much brighter now without the dark fabric that made you unable to noticed the true color.
You did not have to be so smart to know the man in front of you was a Targaryen. A Targaryen prince. Perhaps...
"Aemond." His name dripped from your lips like the sweetest honey. "Aemond Targaryen."
The prince maintained his look of neutrality and almost disdain, nodding and then shrugging. "Or Aemond One-Eye, like some people call me. Your King Aegon is my older brother." Due to your lack of response and your wide eyes, Aemond sighed. "And I asked you a question about my brother. Are you going to answer it or not, woman?"
"He... He never fucked me, Your Grace. During the few times I saw him around here, he was either too much drunk or already busy with another courtesan."
That was good. Someone untouchable by Aegon. Not like his mother, who had given birth to Aegon three years before him, contaminating her precious womb with that bitter soul she one day carried, swearing that her firstborn would become an ambitious and noble-hearted boy, worthy to sit in the Iron Throne.
You also would not be like Madam Sylvi, who had already slept with Aegon several times even before his brother forced him to wet his cock inside her during his thirteenth name day.
You were... Pure. Not for the eyes of the world, which saw you as a mere whore, a hole for fun. You were pure for Aemond's eyes. You were untouchable by Aegon's filthy hands. You could be like a mother to Aemond. Hold him like Alicent had held him when he was a child, you could let him fuck you like Madam Sylvi had done when he was just a little boy...
You could be whatever Aemond asked you to be. His whore for some minutes but his mother afterwards. It will be a way to distract himself from what he had done to his nephew. A way to justify his impulsive actions that were about to declare war.
Aemond thought to himself if he should let it all out and just leave later on. That was what he planned to do with Madam Sylvi, even though she was attractive and hot.
Gods, he should not even be there, with the curtains closed and an older but kind woman waiting for him sitting on the mattress, your robe tied carelessly so you could seduce the customers who saw the smooth and transparent silk cloth covering just a little of your beautiful body. He should be with his mother, asking for forgiveness due the war he would cause, begging for the kisses on the forehead that she used to give him when he was younger.
Aemond should just turn around and leave. Leave and wait for Sylvi the next night.
Or rather, he should leave that dirty place forever and go to the Sept to seek forgiveness for his terrible behavior and quick promiscuous solutions.
Of course Aemond should do anything like this. And yet he did not. There was something interesting about being there, analyzing you as if you were fresh meat. Analyzing every detail like he did when he was buying some wooden toys for his nephews Jaehaerys and Jaehaera.
He was analyzing everything with precision, and was enjoying every bit of that vision. "Tell me your name." He crossed his arms, none of his clothes other than his hood were off his body.
You bit the lip before whispering your name and repeating it later, along with your last name. The prince nodded, humming the name on his mouth to test the sound. Enjoying the result, Aemond gestured to your robe and you immediately obeyed his nonverbal demand, untying the knot and letting the thin fabric fall around the mattress, your bright eyes lifting so you could see how the Targaryen prince was reacting.
With flushed cheeks and arms crossed again, Aemond walked a little closer to you, steady and slow steps until he was face to face with you. His index finger lifted your chin with a calm that was the opposite of everything you were used to in the brothel. You even believed that he could treat you really well, unlike other rude customers. But your hope disappeared the moment he grabbed your cheeks, his short nails digging into your skin and forming tears in the corners of your eyes.
"I need... I guess I need to take my emotions out on something. On Someone."
You did not dare blink, muttering an agreement and not resisting when the prince pushed you to lie down. His body was warm, unlike his hands that was cold from sweat. You remained in the position Aemond had placed you in, lying beneath him with your legs spread to let him take control if he wished.
Aemond's heart beat fast, knowing this would be the second time he was about to fuck a woman. The second time he was going against the Faith of the Seven, against his mother's requests. Hurting the feelings of the woman he loved most and probably amusing his older brother, who should have been laughing and drinking, finding it funny that Aemond had not only killed his own nephew due some petty revenge, but was also now enjoying the pleasures he had always despised.
"Do you need help, Your Grace?" You worked up the courage to ask the prince as you noticed how his fingers were a pathetic mess, unable to undo the ties on his own pants after he freed himself from the tunic.
Aemond wanted to tell you to fuck off. To tell you to be quiet and let him fuck your cunt until it is dripping with his seed. Until you are pregnant with a silver-haired bastard. He wanted to humiliate you like Aegon did to all whores.
But for the Seven Gods' sakes... He did not want to be like Aegon anymore.
"I do not know!" Aemond shouted, breaking the silence of the private room. He stopped trying to get rid of his clothes and turned his body to the other side. His heart felt like it was about to explode, his hands were trembling again and his legs were weak. Aemond's head ached like the Seven Hells and he had not drunk any drop of wine that the other courtesans had left there for the two of you. "Gods! I thought this would help me, but I can barely get my fucking cock out!"
Your body moved closer to his, pressing your face against Aemond's warm and bare back. His breathing became more erratic when you remained quiet, but brushed the tip of your nose against his skin as if you were a kitten.
Aemond opened his mouth to scold you for your childish action, and then closed it. There was something different about your silent actions. You did not judge him for being there, you did not mock him when he failed to drop his pants and fuck you fast like any man in their right minds would do. Aemond was far from a sane man and it did not take long for you to notice that.
Even though he was fully aware that you might change your mind about him when you learned the truth of what he had done to his own half-sister's son, Aemond let out a sigh of relief. Neither of you moved the bodies, feeling something good from that whole complex situation.
Then Aemond turned to you, his eye filled with tears that he cursed himself for letting escape. His palm went to your chin, holding it softer than he had done before. It was gentle and almost delicate now. Everything he liked to be for his mother. A good boy. A good son.
The prince looked down at your naked body, your breasts so inviting to him that he did not think twice and immediately touched them, squeezing the soft flesh with an inexperience that was cute to you. Aemond only felt the smoothness of a female chest three times during his entire life.
One of them was when he was just four years old and he was jealous of his mother breastfeeding his youngest brother Daeron after his birth. So he touched Alicent and asked for her milk too, which was denied and he spent hours crying until he got distracted by some wooden toy that which the maids brought at Alicent's request, to entertain the greedy little boy as quickly as they could. After that, Daeron began to be fed by a wet nurse and Aemond never noticed his mother's breast milk again.
The second time was when Helaena was pregnant with the twins Jaehaera and Jaehaerys. Aemond was still an innocent twelve years old boy and was very curious seeing how the girl's breasts were suddenly bigger due to the breast milk. His youthful curiosity got the better of him and he took advantage of the fact that his older sister always let him sleep next to her when Aegon was busy fucking whores in the brothels. He snuggled into a hug with Helaena as she slept and pulled the neckline of her nightgown aside, playing with his thumbs on her nipples until they were leaking white and sweet drops.
Unfortunately for Aemond, Aegon arrived drunk just as he was sucking Helaena's nipples, being breastfed like a baby. Aegon laughed loud at the scene. Aemond's cute lips were so wet with his sister's milk and his face was reddish like a strawberry, body shaking as he explained himself in the least convincing way possible. But fortunately for Aemond, Helaena did not wake up and probably never found out about his immoral act. Or at least he preferred to believe that she never found out about that.
Despite having begged for forgiveness at the Sept so many times, Aemond was dragged against his own will by his older brother to a brothel to celebrate his thirteenth name day. He did not want none of that and he was angry with Aegon, but also scared of the whole situation that would develop, even if a part of him wondered if this was some divine punishment he deserved for taking advantage of his dear sister's innocence during her sleep.
The night of the loss of his virginity had been the third and until then the last time that Aemond touched any intimate part of a female body, his young and plump face buried in the middle of Madam Sylvi's large chest.
He had promised to the Gods that he would only do something like that again with his future wife. But here he was, thumbs rolling your hard beaks and making you gasp. Aemond may not have been sexually experienced like his brother Aegon, and not like his uncle Daemon or his sluttly half-sister Rhaenyra, but he was a quick learner with a good memory.
He remembered Madam Sylvi encouraging him to pay a special attention to her nipples using his mouth, and Aemond was eager to follow that old lesson. Wrapping one of your beaks with his lips, Aemond licked you like a hungry man, his tongue swirling around it and then nibbling.
Every muffled moan that left your lips was like music to the Prince's ears.
Once your breasts were completely soaked with Aemond's spit and red marks from the bites he gave you, Aemond smirked satisfied, the desperation that was taking over his mind disappearing and giving space to the lust building up inside his veins.
He spread your legs like he watched Aegon do with the maids when they were both younger, smirking at the view of your wet cunt, the pubic hair glistening with your own juices. "Fuck, you are really dripping. I thought you whores got paid to pretend, not to actually enjoy it."
You moaned at his mockery. In fact, you did not usually feel pleasure with your customers, even the most frequent ones who were not rough to you. They always focused on themselves, not really caring if what you were feeling was pleasurable or not.
But Aemond Targaryen was different. He was appreciating your body, hands on your breasts as if you were an anchor keeping him safe, face in front of your legs, excited to devour you and satisfy all his hunger.
Aemond Targaryen barely seemed to see you as a whore. He seemed to be seeing you as a woman he wanted to worship more than anything. Almost like a...
"Do you have children?"
The prince was full of random questions, and it was another one of the moments when he crossed an unusual line. Why the hells was this important? Was he some boring man who wanted to have sex just with not so experienced whores? Was he disgusted by pregnancies?
"I do. I have... two kids."
The words was almost impossible to hear. Anyone would tell you to repeat what you said. Anyone could be angry due the answer. Anyone but Aemond Targaryen. The prince's keen hearing caught your words perfectly, a smirk of relief and excitement pulling at his lips.
It was perfect. Almost too perfect to be true.
It did not matter where your children were now. It did not matter if they might be suffering from having a mother working in a brothel to be able to feed them with the bare minimum. All that mattered to Aemond at that moment was that you had two children. Just like Alicent had Aegon and Helaena before he was born.
He could pictured himself coming out of his mother's womb. She always said that Aemond was the most painful birth of all, as the boy came out of her womb with such eagerness that the midwives swore it almost caused a hemorrhage inside Alicent's cunt. While Aegon's birth had been traumatizing due to the fact that it was Alicent's first time going through that labor experience, Helaena's birth was soft. The little girl was born so silent that for a few seconds the Queen feared she had been born dead, but Helaena cried when Alicent began to sob, as if she was feeling her mother's emotional pain.
Aemond remembered how his mother described the birth of each of them, even Daeron, who was the fastest of all to be born. And one thing Aemond would never forget was how his mother described his birth.
Alicent said it was like giving birth to a dragon. She felt like she was being ripped from the inside out and for a moment she could swear that little Aemond enjoyed hearing her screams of pain while the midwives were desperate to help stop the bleeding. She said he stopped crying immediately, the sounds of her suffering calmed him.
If he came out of Alicent's body like a dragon whelp, then he would come into yours with all the Targaryen fire inside his veins too. The true perfect replacement for her mother could handle anything. Perhaps he could really trust you to vent and look for affection if you also saw him as your and Alicent's third children. The most devout and the most feared. He could be that for both of you.
Six years ago, Aemond had no awareness about how to please a woman. He was sure that Sylvi had pretended to cum so that he would not feel so humiliated, not that it mattered anyway, since Aemond had not lost his virginity by choice and Madam was already used to faking pleasure reactions for the vast majority of men who visited her brothel. However, there with you, after not knowing how to deal with the chaos tormenting his own mind, Aemond allowed himself to lower his head and get between your legs, rubbing his tongue on the swollen bud that he knew what it was based on what it was written in the forbidden books of the library in the castle.
At first, the movements of his tongue were disorganized and uncomfortable, and you tried to guide his head, but Aemond bit your thigh, drawing some blood from you and hearing you cry out. Aemond did not care about any of that, licking up the red drops that dripped down and going back to licking your clit, taking a little more care than before, understanding that he had done something wrong. He made his tongue less pointy and flattened it better, rubbing it against your cunt and giving gentle licks, eating out the juices that dripped from your wet hole and then moving it up to focus on your clit, trembling moans escaping you while you rolled the eyes at the sensation.
Your thighs trembled and your back arched upward, forcing Aemond to grip your legs to keep your body down, the wet sucking noises buzzing in his ear when you had the first release.
Aemond did not wait you to recover yourself from your high. He kept your legs open with one of his large hands, the other undoing the ties of his pants more quickly than during the first attempt, throwing them to the side and caressing his hard cock. You looked at his muscular torso and looked down at his long legs and the dark hair on his groin.
You did not even need to entertain him with false praises or get him drunk with the wine the other prostitutes prepared for the two of you. Aemond was ready for it and ignoring his own nervousness.
He spat into his palm, pressing his arousal one last time and finally slamming into you, the abrupt stretch hurting your cunt, lips parted and eyes widening when Aemond ignored your brief pain and started moving his hips, letting out low guttural growls at the feeling of your tight warm walls crushing him.
"Your Grace..." You moaned in a mix of pleasure and discomfort, the thrusts hitting the soft part of your cervix and making you see stars.
Aemond smirked at your incoherent moans, lowering himself until his face was close to yours, capturing your mouth in an aggressive kiss, uncoordinated tongues together, teeth practically devouring each other's lower lip. The exchange of saliva tasted like blood and your own cum.
He had not felt the sensation of being inside a woman in so many years that the pleasure was almost like losing his virginity for a second time. It was intense, strange and desperate. He needed more. He needed to fuck you deep inside, until you were like Alicent, carrying a part of him in your womb.
The faster he got closer to his orgasm, the more Aemond's low growls became whispers begging the Gods for forgiveness and also tearful moans calling you his mother. Prayers and cries coming from a filthy sinner in search of redemption, or from an innocent little boy who needed the love of the woman who gave birth to him.
With each violent thrust inside your tight and sore cunt, Aemond pictured a little silver-haired boy coming out of you after nine moons and destroying you just like he had done to Alicent during his own childbirth.
Now that the only woman who ever loved him with her entire body and soul saw him as a monster, Aemond wished that future routine nights with you in the brothel could fill the void inside his heart. However, deep down Aemond knew that no one could ever love him more than the woman who brought him into the world. For Aemond, failing Alicent was worse than failing the Gods. And there was no divine or maternal forgiveness for a murderer.
#venusbyline#venusbyline's masterlist#aemond targaryen masterlist#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen smut#dark aemond smut#dark aemond targaryen#dark aemond x reader#hotd x reader#hotd x you#house of the dragon#hotd smut#hotd#dark hotd#dead dove fic#dead dove do not eat#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen x female reader#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen fanfiction#my fics#my writing#aemond smut#aemond x reader#aemond x you#hotd fic#hotd fanfic#hotd aemond#aemond targaryen oneshot
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another name ends up in lights * tlo



pairings: max verstappen x fem!driver
word count: 4.1k
notes: sorry it took me so long, i had a writing crisis
(prev) | (series masterlist)
“hold on a minute,” felicity mutters, scrambling over her words as max starts to pull out his laptop. “i thought i was here so you could tell me about fleur.”
max turns his head amidst trying to be comfortable in his couch. he blinks at the younger driver in confusion, yet continues to type away on his laptop. “i am going to tell you about fleur.”
“then what is that? why are you whipping your laptop out?” she scowls slightly, eyebrows furrowing with growing frustrations. “don’t tell me you’ve got some document about fleur ready-made for situations exactly like this.”
at this point, max has returned his attention to his laptop screen. “just sit down — you’ll find out why i dug my laptop out for this.”
“you could have just declined when i asked about her, you know.”
max stops typing and turns his head fully to throw her a look. a look that’s pure irritation and he has to remind himself that they are not close enough for him to be rolling his eyes at her.
that, and she might take it the wrong way.
“come here,” max pats the empty spot on the couch in his driver’s room. he turns his laptop to show her what he’s pulled up.
it’s a word document — hundreds of pages filled with screenshots of headlines that are about fleur.
“this is the first headline about her when she joined f1.”
🚨 | FORMULA 1 BREAKING: Mercedes signs 2016 F2 Champion following Nico Rosberg’s retirement ahead of the 2017 season.
max would always tell you that he loved you from the moment he met you. you’d typically argue that he first met you when you were in f2 together, which he would then claim he doesn’t remember that interaction happening.
when you first joined, you were slightly more reserved. on joint media day with everyone else, you were more of a wallflower than a race car driver, opting for the comfort of a corner with your helmet in your arms. during testing session, you stayed in your garage, following lewis, toto and james wherever they went.
on the first media day of the new season, fate had it that you would be squeezed together on a couch for an entire half hour.
at some point during the press conference, max started to feel bad for you. he swears that the arrangement for it was skewed in a sense that they had thrown into a room with a bunch of the males on the grid.
there were plenty of other women on the grid — why were you being sandwiched between a bunch of other guys? he always regretted not standing up for you that day, when the supposed industry standard bunch of journalists were hounding you for superficial topics but never about racing.
but at the time, he hadn’t really known you at all to be speaking for you.
you tried to slip out unnoticed from the media room when the existing drivers huddled up to catch up with one another. max wasn’t interested in that; he was interested in you.
he trailed behind you momentarily, eager to finally introduce himself to you. on the current grid, you were the only person here that’s remotely close to his age at all. everyone he’d grown up with are still in the junior series.
he would find you behind the mercedes home, in the back alley with the aircon vents. you were squatting on the ground, picking on the gravel of the floor, humming softly to yourself.
“is everything okay?” max asked softly, peered over the corner of the building with a small smile.
max remembers, clear as day, the way you flinched at the sound of his voice. you turned your head to him with wide eyes and scramble to get to your feet, as if you were a deer caught in headlights or a toddler caught doing something they shouldn’t be doing. you give him a sheepish grin, “i’m okay. thank you.”
max shrugged and stepped out into your view, “media day can be a bit brutal, can’t it? i’m sorry, they sounded really harsh on you earlier.”
you nodded, hands clasping on your lap. “they are always like that.”
he was still really young: just 19 with barely 2 years of experience to his name. and there you were, barely able to meet his eyes, speaking in a soft and gentle voice.
“i would really like to be by myself right now,” you told him softly. “i don’t mean to be rude, but i really appreciate you checking up on me.”
max understood that. in fact, he really respected that you were able to draw the boundary immediately. though, he was a little shocked at your bluntness. “i’m max, by the way.”
you looked down at his extended hand, and max would notice the small smile growing on your lips. you take his hand, “you can call me fleur.”
“well, i’ll be around here somewhere if you change your mind,” max offered with a grin. “just shout my name — i’ve got really good hearing and a sturdy shoulder to cry on if you need it.”
your laugh was a sound that he had immediately fallen in love with, light, airy and contagious. max always says that you only ever laughed at his jokes to make him feel good and less lame, but you claimed to have always found him funny.
“thank you, max. i really appreciate that.”
while max would spend the next 15 minutes finding something else to do, it was an even bigger surprise when you approached him in the paddocks with a small smile and 2 cans of drinks in your arms.
a monster drink and a red bull. you would hand him the latter as you took on his offer to be a friend.
max soon came to learn that his time with you during a race weekend in sparse. he would barely run into you for the next 2 weekends, only ever catching you on the back of the truck for the driver’s parade. even then, lewis typically stuck by your side.
and if it wasn’t your teammate, it was someone else taking up your time. other drivers on the grid, or the interviewer whisking you away before he could get to you.
you always argued that he clearly hadn’t liked you enough to find a way to get to you, but max always retorted that you were just too popular for him.
he owed a lot of the following interactions with you to daniel and sebastian, who were both a terror to everyone on the grid. the next time he got to interact with you was during the driver’s parade, weeks later than he’d preferred.
you were the one to call his name out, beckoning him over to the cosy corner you’d tucked yourself in with daniel and sebastian. “hey, max!” you were beckoning him to where you were. “we were just talking about you!”
you always told him that you had a feeling that he had a crush on you, always citing that his cheeks would turn a shade of red after you said that to him.
“about me?” max raises his eyebrows, pointing a finger at himself. “have you been whispering things in her ear about me already? the year’s barely started.”
sebastian threw him a teasing smirk and his eyes narrowed into a playful glare. “why, you’ve got something to hide, max?”
“they were just telling me how impressive you are around this track,” you smiled, gesturing around you. “i might need some tips. it’s my first time and i need to impress.”
max shook his head, “i’m not sure that’s a good idea — what if you beat me?”
“oh, you.” your words hit him like a truck. your small smile, soft laugh as you threw your head back almost sent him into a spiral. “i could never beat the guy they swear is a racing god.”
a racing god. that always stuck with him, even after years of your breakup. you would always call him a racing god without acknowledging how heavenly you were when you raced.
max always swore, when you were still around, that you could have been the only one to beat him. sometimes, when he lies awake at night all alone in his apartment, he thinks that he wouldn’t have multiple championships if you chose to stick around.
“don’t be silly,” max laughed. “you’re not so shabby of a driver yourself, fleur.”
“is that a challenge, max?”
he nodded, “you bet.”
your first podium was nothing short of a huge celebration within the team at mercedes. he hadn’t initially noticed both the mercedes cars still in display in the middle of the track until he had finished taking his weight.
he tried looking around for you within the swarm of people out on the track with the top 3 finishers. he would linger by the barriers, eager to find you.
when he found you, you were bouncing on your toes with the widest smile he’s seen anyone put on their face. the sun shined down on you, making you look even more heavenly than max remembered you looking.
he felt a warmth spread through his chest at your happiness. your happiness seemed to be as contagious as your laughter and he can’t help but feel happy for you.
max didn’t feel like that often; most of the things in his life started to grow stagnant at that point in his life. it was difficult to find the joy in most things lately.
perhaps it was the bright smile on your face. he says that even the moon and the stars can feel the happiness radiating from you.
lewis even had to sneak up behind you, grabbing your shoulders firmly to hold you in place. lewis had said something to you and you laughed. you laughed so loud that max could hear it from where he was at parc ferme.
he caught your eye as lewis whirled you around to head over to the cooldown room. your smile widened again as you pointed at where you car was parked and he felt that same warmth spreading through his entire bdoy again.
he sent you a thumbs up and mouthed a quick ‘congratulations’ to you. he laughed at himself a few seconds later, ridiculing himself for thinking that you would even understand what he had mouthed to you.
yet you managed to surprise him again when you mouthed back a ‘thank you’ along with a heart shape gesture with your hands.
you were quickly yanked away by lewis and sebastian into into the cooldown room, but max was still stunned at your mere heart gesture.
max later confessed that that gesture alone sent him into a frenzy that would last up until the moment you confessed to him.
🚨 | FORMULADATING Mercedes driver spotted on a date with an NBA player in New York City.
for starters, max never knew that you were into arrogant men. loud men, maybe, considering how bubbly you were.
“i had no idea she was into basketball players,” max would bring up randomly as he waited with daniel for their marketing shoot to start.
he mentioned it in passing, and only because he overheard one of their marketing executives speculating in the corner about the basketball player you were spotted on a date with.
some devin guy.
daniel raised an eyebrow and looked up from his phone. “hm? what’s that supposed to mean?”
“fleur doesn’t really seem like the type of girl to fancy american guys. you know, loud and arrogant guys?”
it was a surprise that daniel had not caught on yet. “what type of guys do you supposed fleur likes then — guys like you?”
max remembers feeling shell shocked that daniel would say that. had he really been so obvious? “what do you mean guys like me? i don’t like fleur like that.”
“i meant arrogant guys, but less obvious about it?” daniel raised his eyebrows, hand to his chest at max’s words. “you like fleur?”
he blinked and repeated himself, “i just said i don’t like her like that.”
“yeah, but i never said anything remotely close to that at all.”
max would scratch the back of his neck, feigning irritation. in reality, he was afraid that daniel would catch on and snitch to you. “i mean–”
he would get cut off by the team’s content creator, signaling that they should start filming before it gets late.
saved by the bell.
for the next couple of weeks, max tried limiting how much he interacted with you. his heart constantly felt like jumping out of his ribs every time he would interact with you so he figured that he should pull back.
it’s not like inter-driver relationships were not the norm around here — with the choice to encourage a mix-gender grid, it was inevitable — but max does not want to take his chances. the chances of ruining a good friendship with you is too big of a risk than just packing his feelings into a box.
but avoiding you was not easy. the more his feelings grew, the more daniel had caught on and started to try putting him in situations where you are.
max would have been more thankful, had the girl he has a crush on not been you. being lovers while being competitors is a tough choice.
he saw you with your arms crossed, lips pouted and eyebrows furrowed. sebastian, daniel and lewis surrounded you, roaring in laughter before you whined loudly and stomped a foot into the ground.
“it was not even!” you shrieked loudly, catching max’s attention. “you guys are speculating.”
when you caught max’s eyes, you quickly beckoned for him to come over to where you were. clearly being terrorised by the 3 men.
“can you tell these oldies that just because i’m seen with a man, does not mean it was a date?” you frowned, folding your arms over your chest.
you raised your eyebrow as you awaited his answer, to which max admits to this day that you scared the wits out of him at the moment.
“in our defense,” daniel cleared his throat, “she was seen holding hands with one of them.”
max huffed and put his hands on his hips. “of course! how would you guys like it if she was seen with one of you and everyone thinks it’s a date?”
sebastian pouted his lips and shook his head, “it would never happen. i’m too old for her.”
“i have a girlfriend,” lewis explained with a hand to his chest.
heads collectively turned to daniel, who had been strangely silent. the australian shrugged and grinned at you with a wink, “you have my number.”
“gross,” sebastian sighed as he whisked daniel away. he rambled on something about how you were just a kid, and the latter just laughed and said he was kidding.
you would turn to max with a small smile, “thank you. if it weren’t for you, they would have eaten me alive.”
🚨 | FORMULADATING Mercedes rookie wins race, embraces The Maze Runner lead at parce ferme.
“wow,” max muttered, barely glancing at where you were in the paddocks.
he remembers it clear as day: you were changed out of your race suit, fresh out of the shower in a beautiful dress- embracing some man. some man whose name he would later learn is dylan something. he doesn’t even want to remember it at all.
that week was forgettable, anyway.
he wasn’t going to approach you, until a hand landed firmly on his back and started pushing him in your direction. then another figure popped up next to him: sebastian and daniel.
of course.
now that you walked with some man on your arm, max couldn’t help but feel that he might have read between the lines too much. he could have sworn that you were interested in him. somehow, some way.
“fleur!” sebastian called out, a laugh threatening to terrorise the paddocks. “who do we have here!”
max couldn’t wipe the permanent scowl off his face, or so daniel would say whenever he would tell this story.
he watched you untangle yourself from the — then — unnamed man. you turned around and frowned, arms folded over your chest. “what do you want?”
daniel put his weight on max, sporting a giddy smile on his face. “aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?”
you pursed your lips. “nope.”
you turned on your heel and whisked dylan away, leaving sebastian and daniel’s whines and pleads in the air.
sebastian frowned and pointed a finger at you as you walked away, “she must be hiding something from us.”
“probably,” daniel speculated with a hum. though, he tapped his finger against his lips as you continued to walk away. “it’s definitely fishy.”
“it’s probably none of our business,” max added on softly.
daniel turned to him, eyes narrowed. he started to hum louder. “we’ll get to the bottom of this.”
max had absolutely no idea what was going to transpire.
max took another attempt at avoiding you after news broke that you were embracing some man in the paddocks. again, long story as to how that whole saga eventually ended.
while you were often considered non-confrontational, max bumped into you in the paddocks during the second last race of the season. you had a look on your face that he couldn’t quite decipher at the time.
“i feel like i haven’t seen you in forever!” you shrieked, gently hitting him on the shoulder. “if i were a little crazier, i’d say you’ve been avoiding me on purpose, max verstappen.”
the last thing that max wanted to see every time he stepped onto the paddocks was the cameras plastering your stupid little boyfriend’s face on every screen around the track. he already saw his face everywhere on social media when he tried to stalk you; he didn’t need it in person too.
“hm?” max perked with a small smile. he tries his best to act cordial with you; as if the thought of you with somebody else that’s not him isn’t absolutely driving him insane. “i think it’s been really busy these past couple of weekends. you know, with the season ending and anything.”
he watched a knot form on your forehead. to be honest, he felt really bad avoiding you — you’re a very friendly person, and very lovely and cheerful at that.
and the way his feelings just keep growing every single time you smiled his way, it’s too much for him to keep dealing with.
you were constantly in his mind — he wondered what you’re doing, where you are, if you somehow still feel the same way. sometimes, it got to a point where he assumed that you were pulling some kind of twisted joke on him.
sometimes he would tell himself he was just being delusional, clearly a fool to take your friendliness as something more. even then, he alluded to the possibility that you liked toying with his feelings; that wrapping men around your fingers was something you liked doing.
“hm,” you hummed, raising an eyebrow as you slowly turned on your heel. “sure.”
amd then you were gone. you turned on your heel and picked up your feet to disappear into the paddocks.
max remembered feeling slightly hopeless that day, feeling like he had lost all hope and chances of at least keeping you as a friend.
but it would all come to a halt soon.
well, sooner than he thought.
“i didn’t know you could bring dates to grid dinner,” daniel joked, leaning back his seat with an amused smile.
max remembers that daniel was entertained, because daniel would look between him, you and the damn man standing next to you with your hand in his, and laughed.
max swore you were doing it on purpose.
“because she’s not,” lewis announced. “he just dropped her off.”
“diva so soon, eh, fleur?” carlos joked with a soft snort. “you’ve got a chauffer already?”
“yeah, you’re next with the way you keep looking at her,” sebastian joked, pointing at you. “thank you, dylan, for making sure she got here safe.”
but you weren’t having much of their teasing. you lingered by the entrance, looking at max. you briefly left the room, probably to bid your stupid date goodbye, before you came back in with red cheeks.
and you were still looking at him.
after that, he was damn sure this was all on purpose.
max unzipped his race suit, brushing his hands through his damp hair. he’d ended up finishing behind you on that last race of the season.
he glanced over his shoulder where you were climbing out of your car, and he quickly whirled back around to avoid you. he will just get the interview over and done with, congratulate lewis and go on his merry way.
at least, that was the plan.
“hey, verstappen!” he could single out your voice in the loud chatter and the speakers that broadcast lewis everywhere. “hey, wait for me!”
he tried walking faster and playing it off. he made a mental note to say he must have not heard you from all the noise and ruckus.
but he didn’t get very far. he felt a soft shove to his shoulder, stumbling forward and suddenly you were standing in front of him. in all your glory, damn hair flowing down your back, the sweat illuminating your face and the top of your race suit hanging by your waist.
“oh, fleur! hi!”
“you’re avoiding me. what’s the problem?” you frowned, throwing your arms into the air.
max shook his head and tried turning his body to another direction. “i’m sorry, fleur. i’m just really busy. i have a–”
“i don’t get it,” you sighed, dropping your hands by your side. “i thought you liked me.”
he blinked at you, slightly confused. “what?”
you threw your head back and rolled your eyes. “yeah, i thought we had something going on there for a moment. i thought you felt it too but then you started avoiding me.”
truthfully, up to this day, max would always say that he never expected what would happen next.
“i even flung dylan around the damn paddocks to act like my boyfriend to make you jealous,” you laughed. “i swear it worked for a little bit.”
that laugh always stuck with max: there was a touch of humour to it, but it was dry from hopelessness. he would only hear that twice. this was one of the two times.
“so, are you just gonna stand there with your jaw on the floor?” you snorted, folding your arms over your chest. “you gonna ask me out or what?”
max blinks. “why are you laughing?” felicity is hunched over to the ground, fists lightly hitting the floor as she tries to control her laughter. max continues to blink, laptop in his lap. “i don’t understand – what is so funny?”
the rookie finally sits up. she smiles, “i can’t believe it. max verstappen didn’t make the first move?”
“that’s not the point of the story, you know.”
“i know, but like,” she wipes the tears from the edge of her eyes, “the max verstappen couldn’t ask a girl out on a date?”
“there were a lot of things to consider, okay? for one, i’m a red bull driver and she was a mercedes driver,” he pointed out, flailing his arms into the air in hopes that she would get his point. “you’ve seen relationships around here. they never last.”
felicity nods as she hums, “keep your relationship or your job.” she sighs and drops her back against the wall behind her. “i’m sorry. if you don’t wanna continue telling me about her, it’s alright.”
max smiles, shrugging. “it feels nice to talk about her again with someone new.”
“you’ve talked about all this to someone else recently?”
“yeah – rocky. 2 years ago when she was a rookie.”
“oh, how come?”
“she’s dating logan.”
"rocky? like andretti rocky and williams logan that got dropped mid-season last year?" her eyes widen when max nods. “they’ve been dating that long? i thought they just announced their relationship a year ago."
"they've been dating since they were in f3, dude."
"wow!"
“they’re engaged now, you know. he proposed a couple weeks ago on a couple’s trip? even almost lost the damn ring!” max rambles, rolling his eyes. he quickly catches himself and puts a hand up to stop felicity from deviating the conversation to something else. “wait, we shouldn’t be talking about rocky and logan. you can ask her yourself, ‘kay?”
max grabs the laptop again. “so, anyway.”
(next)
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#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#disneyprincemuke tlo#disneyprincemuke#disneyprincemuke f1
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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐌𝐊1 | "𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐀 𝐓𝐎𝐗𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐁𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄?"
TW: dark themes, toxic relationship, physical aggression, afab anatomy, stockholm syndrome, kidnapping, yandere themes, smut, nsfw.





。˚☽˚。⋆ SHANG TSUNG : You two met when he went to collect a debt from one of your neighbors in the small village where you lived with your family, he would ask if your neighbor was there, since he didn't answer the door, you would talk distractedly taking care of some flowers that I didn't know for sure, oh my, the wizard was already madly in love with you, he would ask for some water and then ask your name and then kiss the back of your hand leaving with some men. From then on, his life would be a real hell. He would research everything about you and your family, he would be the type who would first try to win you over like a normal person, but soon he would see that you didn't seem very interested in her, soon leading him to a plan B. - He would start threatening the owner of renting your house immediately increasing the monthly payment, leaving you and your family in complete despair, however, he appeared as a "great savior" giving the house to your family again, with one caveat, you would have to go out to dinner with he. Shang Tsung was very seductive, he would pick you up at home, dressed in beautiful gold and red royal attire, loose hair and extremely expensive perfume, he would know how to convince you to stay with him, telling you how lucky you were that he had bought your house, in no time you would be in his hands and with sweet words and some wine, he would be between your legs at the end of the night, fucking you hard and slapping your face.
You two start dating immediately, and it becomes hell in your life, Shang wouldn't let you go home anymore, you would practically live with him in his castle, all his henchmen from exoterra weren't even allowed to breathe near you, much less let you go out without him around. He would be busy with business but he would leave you beautiful and locked up in another shared house between the two of you - don't take him the wrong way, but he wouldn't feel comfortable leaving you in a house full of likely exits to run away and never come back to him again. -
He is well controlled, Shang really knows that you won't leave him, because in addition to having developed emotional dependence on you on purpose, he could kill your beloved family at any moment - perhaps he even did this before, so you could only have him, but just maybe- But every jealous crisis he has you will be fucked by her until you can no longer walk, he will sink into you without any mercy for your poor pussy, talking while he puts his dick in you with all his strength that you are a dirty slut who wants to give that pussy to anyone, and that only he can have your body and heart, whether you want it or not.
You wouldn't, like never, if you even dared to mention that you wanted to end the relationship you would see a family member of yours killed, by your boyfriend while he smiled insanely and asked if he heard what you meant to say correctly. He would also never break up with you, for him you are the only one in his life and will always be and if you try to run away he will find you and make your life hell, first of all you wouldn't even leave the exoterra, he literally has contact with You wouldn't even be able to get a ride to go as far as possible from exo terra and if you did, it would be one of contacts to pick you back up. You would soon realize that it wasn't the right way and you would panic seeing Shang Tsung just ahead waving happily to the driver. You would try to scream and then cry but there was nothing else you could do in that situation, he would take you home and soon he would have him by your side and kissing your neck, of course, with your wrist held by a pair of handcuffs on your wrist. At the head of the bed, he would lay his head on you, hugging you while your tears flowed : "-My love, you will never leave here, you will die here, whether you want it or not."
。˚☽˚。⋆ BI HAN : Please never have a relationship with this man, seriously darling, Bi Han is the type of man that you can't even breathe someone else's air and he will have a jealous crisis taking you both home - this man's crises are always happen with the two of you out - he wouldn't be shy and say that you were wearing too short clothes to go out and that's why you were at home - not because he was jealous because you simply smiled at the waiter after he gave you a drink - and After arriving home, the two of you would have extremely violent sex on Bi Han's part, he would record fucking your pussy from behind while pulling your hair - regardless of whether your hair was short or not, he is 6'1 tall, meaning he would reach your head calm down - and right after cumming inside you, his cum warmed your entrance recording the cum dripping from your pussy. He would also be extremely controlling with things related to your work, forget leaving the house after dating him, you only go out with him or if you are accompanied by a man he trusts from the Lin Kuei - Mainly Sektor - if he knows you left alone he would have an outbreak when he got home - let's say maybe, but just, maybe, he put a tracker on you, with the help of Sektor, specifically on your cell phone or maybe on yourself, this man is sick - and this outbreak it would generate an outcry from him, and you would only hear it silently, crying quietly, since the last time you raised your voice to him you left the mark of his hand on your face for 3 days. He's the type to punish you physically, he thinks you'll learn better from pain. Things like hitting you if you dare to raise your voice to him have become normal in his life, he also faithfully believes that hitting you is not wrong and will never apologize for the opposite, he will pretend nothing happened and have breakfast with you like a happy couple. Unlike the others on the list, there is no way not to notice the red flags in the relationship, you went into this knowing how problematic Bi Han was and thought you could change him in some way, you were mortally mistaken. If you tried to escape from your house he would find you in hell, the entire Lin Kuei would come after you, and deaths would happen because your dear boyfriend knows that you couldn't bear to see civilians dying because of you. Soon the grand master would see you come out of a small house in the village that you were hiding with your hands up, there were people looking at you shocked by everything and others dead on the ground as you passed, obviously all the witnesses would be neutralized. Bi Han hugged you tightly, placing kisses on your head as he carried you in his arms. "-I told you my love, you will never run away from me, you are my soulmate, have you forgotten? If you try to do something like that again, I swear I will slowly kill every person you love in this life."
。˚☽˚。⋆ JOHNNY CAGE: This man is a Labrador type, he is a cute man but when he wants to he can turn your life into hell. You met Johnny in one of his films, and he soon became very passionate and in a record amount of time you began to have a relationship, in the beginning it was always normal and respectful, but he has already shown some strange signs, like always asking what you smiled so much writing on your cell phone - which was ironic since he was always glued to his cell phone - which would generate a mini fight between the two of you with Johnny saying that he was afraid of losing you, that he couldn't live without you and that he would do anything To have you by his side, he's the type who will apologize for raising his voice in a fight but will try to justify why he did it. The man will go slowly, showing several red flags, such as expelling his friends from the house that was shared, saying that he had had enough of the noise and that he needed to rest from unlike your friends leaving a horrible atmosphere in the room. You looked at your boyfriend in disbelief as he opened the door and each of your friends came out awkwardly smiling in your direction, the argument between you would be heated with him calling you a slut in the process which would make the older man apologize soon after while you If you locked yourself in the bathroom, you would only make up when you left the room and saw Cage silently crying while looking at your photos. He really has problems with trust, he loves you and trusts you, but he can't say the same about his friends and the world in general, even with you being in his life for many years, he doesn't trust himself, you two would end up fucking with Johnny Cage beneath you talking about how he couldn't see his life without you, while you rode him and kissed him, the man's hips went in desperate rhythm as he saw the goddess that was you moaning on his dick, and oh my he could never lose you.
+ BONUS CHARACTER
。˚☽˚。⋆ KUAI LIANG : Kuai Liang is literally on the same level as Bi Han, seriously, maybe even worse. This man would lay eyes on you for the first time and soon become obsessed, in this context you would be a support soldier in the mission against Perseus, everything was supposed to be normal but you soon find yourself cornered by Kuai and his sick thoughts. The man wouldn't give you a choice, either you stay with him or you die, simple as that. He would first try to win you over by normal methods, like bringing flowers or inviting you to dinner and if you accepted, you would fall into his web of control. This relationship would be a prison, you couldn't leave this man's side and if you did it without authorization you would be punished, he would love to punish you with humiliation, making you suck his dick under the table while there is a very important meeting with the Lin Kuei or just you depriving you of wearing clothes at home, he would always, literally always, fuck you, the bastard knew how to break your mind, he knew how to have sex that made you cry while you trembled on his thick cock. During sex he would praise you saying how good you are for taking his dick so well in your pussy, you were already not feeling very well with everything that was happening, so a Stockholm syndrome bond was formed with the man, rightfully so. to you crying every time Kuai deprived you of contact. Well, I think that with all this there's no need to say how jealous he is, you're just his, it could have happened that a man who tried to buy you a drink turned up dead in some alley, he's not the type to hit you , but, he will do much worse things. You will never escape, forget that dear, he will put you in a house far away from everything and everyone with the security system high and to avoid the risk of an escape, so you just let the man take control of your life. Kuai Liang would arrive home and see you on the porch, sitting in a beautiful white flowy dress that showed off your cleavage all dressed up, you looked sadly at the forest landscape around you, life had already left your eyes, you were a soulless doll, Kuai's broken doll, he sat next to you, slowly placing you on his lap while running his hand through your soft hair, you were broken, Kuai Liang knew, but there was no going back.
©YANDERESTARANGEL 2033
#yanderestarangel#mortal kombat#tw smut#afab reader#mortal kombat fandom#mortal kombat fanfiction#mortal kombat smut#mortal kombat x reader#mk1#dark themes#dark fic#yandere themes#yandere#bi han x reader#shang tsung x reader#kuai liang x you#kuai liang x reader#johnny cage#johnny cage x reader#bi han x you#bi han sub zero#johnny cage x you#kuai liang mk1#shang tsung#shang tsung x you#mk 1#mk1 x reader#mk johnny cage#mk1 bi han#mk1 shang tsung
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Please share more about Crisis and his small blue child. They are now also on my mind (because they are extremely cute)
Oooooh Lord, you've just opened a Pandora's box!! I'll happily yap about these two all day, any day. This is going to be a long post, so the rest is under the cut!
- Crisis' CT number (CT-1208) is a loose reference to what's considered normal blood pressure - 120/80
- The best way I can describe his personality is a hellish mix of Bobby Singer from Supernatural and Dr. Gearloose from the 2017 Ducktales
- Due to Crisis' decision to have all-black armor for higher visibility on the field, he's made himself a much larger target to the enemy. He's suffered some pretty bad injuries that eventually cause slight mobility issues as he gets older. He still refuses to change his armor.
- He got his name because he used to be extremely high strung. His brothers made fun of him for always being in crisis, and the name stuck. He definitely mellowed out after being placed under Djinn's command (not like he had a choice - Djinn is the type to command battles in a Hawaiian shirt while blasting Jimmy Buffett)
- While Djinn is the Marshal Commander of the 607th, any seasoned soldier knows to go to Mom Friend Crisis™ with any serious problems. (This includes Djinn)
- Nyali was a part of a group of younglings that the 607th was escorting shortly before O66. She was immediately drawn to Crisis, and that ended up saving her life when the order was given. She was four at the time.
- Crisis decided almost immediately that Nyali was his kid. As soon as he realized that the Jedi had been exterminated, he knew that he'd never leave her side.
- Crisis hates anything to do with water (which is unfortunate as he has a Nautolan daughter now)
- Nyali wasn't very snarky until she went on the run with Crisis. That changed pretty quickly.
- Crisis never quite shakes his military habits and lives with a lot of anxiety, even after he and Nyali have gotten to a safe place.
- Nyali has an extremely strong connection to the Force. She sees everything through the lens of the Force and is able to ascertain what kind of person someone is by how the Force flows through them. She cried for days after O66 because she was able to feel the free will of the clones being ripped away, and the lives of thousands being snuffed out of existence. This was very confusing to Crisis, who knew next to nothing about the Force or children.
- Nyali, being so sensitive to the Force and the lives within it, is extremely prone to night terrors and visions of other beings suffering. It takes a long time for her to be able to articulate this as a child, but Crisis figured out pretty quickly that she sleeps better if he holds her. By the time she's seven or eight, she's mostly grown out of this and can manage better on her own.
- Once when Nyali was swimming, she was underwater for a very long time. Despite his hatred of water, Crisis immediately jumped in to "save" her, forgetting that she's capable of breathing under water. Nyali teases him about this relentlessly.
- Though Crisis can't feel the Force, he's one of the strongest believers in the cosmic energy. He knows that the Force is responsible for guiding his daughter to him.
I hope you enjoy this hodgepodge of information!!! I tried to format it as coherently as possible, but it's also a bit of a 12am word vomit. As always, thanks for the ask, and I'm more than happy to yap about these two any time! 🥰
#star wars#the clone wars#sw tcw#star wars clones#clone ocs#clone oc#sw ocs#sw oc#star wars oc#oc nyali#nyali and crisis#sergeant crisis#oc crisis#oc lore#607th legion#commander djinn#djinn#jedi!maul
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domestic South Park headcanons maybe?
Hi Anon!!
THANK YOU FOR THE ASK!!
Okay so I’m just listing characters and random ass headcanons because there is no way to organise my brain lmaoo
This is when they’re college aged so all moved out into dorms/houses and the whole shabang
Kyle:
He is either an ICE COLD SHOWER type of person or a SCALDING HOT SHOWER typer of person. Absolutely no in between.
absolutely LOATHES ikea furniture. When he gets new furniture for his dorm, it takes him an entire day to put a bookshelf together because the instructions are just pictures and it drives him nuts and he has to like FaceTime five people and it’s a conjoined effort to get the bookshelf up.
Since he has thick hair and I hc him to be a headphone user, he constantly goes through the crisis of trying to wear them over his hair.
only ever invests in those chargeable vacuums because one time when he was vacuuming near a staircase, he tripped over the cord and fell and ate shit on the stairs. The thing bruised the most was his ego and his sanity 💔
Since his dad is a lawyer, he learned how to tie a tie when he was younger so he is the one that ties his friends ties when they’re going out for a formal event and it drives him nuts.
He takes handwritten notes during his lectures and then spends hours transferring them to his laptop
He hates people who wear sunglasses inside
He used to hate having any kind of facial hair but someone told him he has babyface once and now he only maintenance shaves.
Stan:
Does dog walking as a side hustle but gets WAYYY too attached to the dogs he walks for an hour.
He’s like one of those people that ALWAYS HAVE SOCKS ON like Kyle has known him from like basically birth and he’s seen Stan’s feet like twice.
Has one of those mini basketball hoop things in his room but he lost the small ball that came with it like the day he got it and so he just tosses random items in there when he’s bored because why not and he’s also our #1 boyfailure so
He was one of those small babies who had a really big ego. Like when he was an infant he had the BIGGEST ego. Baby Stan had BEEF with baby Kyle because Kyle started walking first and got all the attention which bruised Stan’s ego so he in turn intentionally crawled himself off a table for the attention. He still has a small scar on his forehead to prove it (Sharon makes fun of him but Stan can’t remember cause he was an infant so its really funny)
Would sticker-ify EVERTHING. His water bottle, laptop, phone case etc. literally anything he can get his hands on.
LOATHES doing the dishes because he hates it when water runs down his arms.
Records his lectures and his ‘study’ is just listening to the recordings over and over again
Kenny:
Would love the minions movie. Like unironically don’t ask me why but I feel like he would get really strong cuteness aggression when he sees minions 😭
Would try busking at least once in his life but with a harmonica and he would just play Billy Joel on repeat.
Babysits the neighbours kids and is a favourite and ends up driving carpool for all his mom friend’s kids.
He has like iron scorch marks on a bunch of his clothes cause he consistently leaves the iron on and gets distracted and because he has an addiction to those iron on patches and he never reads the instructions and leaves them under the iron for too long.
He would absolutely have a random stop sign in his room.
When he moves for college, he hates not being close to Karen and Kevin so he makes sure to invite them over regularly and spends the entire day cleaning because he wants to impress them😭
Cartman:
Makes those insane and probably toxic breakfast burritos and has caused several communal kitchen microwave incidents.
For some reason, I feel like he would be the type to get his own everything. Like if Kenny, Stan, and Kyle share one toaster, Cartman just has his own. He even has his own shelf in the fridge lmaoo. But yes he would get his own appliances and even a doormat for his room in the dorm and he would get so mad if anyone even breathed near his personal items.
Always takes the aux no matter who’s car it is. You’ll literally have to pry it out of his cold dead hands.
Is a DEVOTED belieber. Also a diehard 1D fan and literally mourned when Liam Payne died. He was truly manifesting the 1D reunion.
Fell for the TikTok shifting era and sweared by it and now goes around and denies it ever happened
Has a sims 4 version of everyone and uses the sims as a coping mechanism instead of just murder (😭 the pool death method…)
Also just owns a golf cart he drives around college campus that he claims is a medical aid
I just KNOW the campus underpaid barista hates to see him come in.
Pays a random high schooler to sneak into his college lectures and write down notes for him.
These are really random and not really COMPLETE but I think a lot of these can stem off into other ideas. I’m also writing these half asleep and with a finicky keyboard that has a five second lag 💔 I was also going to include more characters and potentially ships (rarepairs hate to see me coming) but I think ill dedicate another post to that. Anyways, it is SO refreshing to write these headcanons again after lowkey abandoning tumblr for weeks at a time. Thank you to all the people who stayed and have been super supportive I love you all 😭
#south park#south park headcanons#kyle broflovski#stan marsh#kenny mccormick#eric cartman#fanfic#southpark#lowkey don’t know what im doing#college au#this post isn’t really college centered but I just included it to give an age range for the characters
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if I could request something I’d love hc’s on darkheart it’s completely fine if not though I loved ur illumina ones and thought you might be willing to do darkheart:)!
-🩶
darkheart x gender-neutral reader headcanons
content: slight jealousy themes; worshipping elements; romantic headcanons; established relationship; mentions of insecurity of body
authors note: i had actually started this writing a while back, but lost the draft after my computer shut down which caused a major meltdown and pause for me when writing. so sorry for the wait, tried retrieving as much info about the old writing before!
pulling darkheart was something that was completely off of your list. it was strange how such a man could fall for someone like you, but it didn't seem to affect you as much. he was just the same as you, just a few more advancements and such. but, that didn't stop you from loving each and every bit about him. he was so lovable, you couldn't take anyone else other then him repeatedly.
very poetic, but that type of corny poetic, the one where he'd try fluster you but it'd leave you embarrassed and giggling, those are the types of flirts he loves doing around you. hearing your laugh and such just motivates him everyday. he couldn't help but feel proud of himself whenever he got that one smile or laugh out of you just for him being him.
he would always blabber about you to the other deities, sometimes even pissing them off because of how much he just talked about you!! oh he was overjoyed to have you as a partner, i mean, who wouldn't?
he NEVER struggled with affection, unless he wasn't in the certain mood to take it in. but, when hes not in an angry and a type of mood where you'd back off but still cherish his presence, he is the biggest cuddle bear possible. he picks you up, swings you around before embracing you. he were to be acting as if he hasn't seen you after a war! but, it always felt nice to feel him wrap his arms around him and question about your day.
always a gifter, specifically a strange gifter, but you love the little things he sees you in. sometimes, he'd bring you glass-stones or shiny material, it reminded you of a crow! he'd always deliver them by the door whenever he can or window, surprising you with the strangest of gifts. he found it ever so enchanting to see just figments of you in every little tiny thing, settling his interest only on delivering it to you. you have even dedicated this small thing of his to a whole array of ornaments! you just loved his little knick knacks and his lovable, dumb head.
sometimes, you'd play around with him and give him some sort of worshipping-type feeling. it never failed him to fluster or embarrass him, but it all for jokes (nothing sexual) that he tends to do with you! sometimes, he'd worship you in a lovable way, sometimes making the smallest of gestures. but, he does this MOSTLY whenever your insecure of yourself.
you have a tummy? who cares! he loves that shit. you got a small chest and believe you don't represent too much? don't you dare say that! your more then anything! your struggling with some identity issues and crisis's? dont worry, he'll be right there to tell you its completely okay, and that he sees you for who you are. he is so accepting and he'll take that to the grave!
sometimes, he struggles to get some sleep. for some guy, he really doesn't know how sleeping with someone works. sometimes, you can feel his legs tangle with yours, but he'd shy away and apologise. you'd end up tangling yours with his. sometimes, his wings may be the worst case for him, but that doesn't stop you from trying your best to help out.
this guy really likes weight ontop of him (self indulgence here, apologies!!!), so please do whatever you can to give him that weight. you want to just lay on him? go right ahead! he'd love that shit. he'll wrap his arm around you and just hold you close.
a great cook, but also a goofster with it too. sometimes, he'll make the cooking look a bittt funky, but that doesn't stop him from making the gourmet dishes. but, sometimes, he may make something thats... a bit strange. not to recall, that one kitchen incident you both had once!
i know i said this with illumina's one, but he would also do the one where he'd put his chin on your head and relax. he does this mostly to peeve off other robloxians that may interact with you. he doesn't do this because he's jealous (he does) but mostly to tell everyone that YOU are HIS! you are his for keeping!
corny nicknames!!! sometimes you call him your goober and he calls you his little shmoopy. he is always keen on other nicknames, but shmoopy is such a heart resonator for you and him. sometimes, he says it in public and it's the only way to catch your attention.
i hope these were good enough!! i was a bit tired but otherwise, i hope you enjoyed these..!!
#phighting x reader#phighting!#੭୧ㅤ﹔ ㅤ vinestafferyㅤ.phighting!#x reader#gender neutral pronouns#gender neutral reader#gender neutral y/n#੭୧ㅤ﹔ ㅤ vinestafferyㅤ.phighting!darkheart#darkheart x reader#phighting darkheart x reader#darkheart phighting x reader#darkheart phighting#phighting darkheart#phighting roblox#phighting headcanons#੭୧ㅤ﹔ ㅤ vinestafferyㅤ.inbox
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Your favorite nosy witch is back at it again:
70 horrible questions ... Fuck it
8, 10, 21, 22, 23, 26, 51, 63, 69 (nice).
FUCK YES WE LOVE THE NOSINESS.
Also, have fun with my long-ass answers. >:)
8. Played Any Sports?
I played soccer when I was a small child (elementary school) and I liked it, but I sucked. I was the goalie most of the time, and one time, I 'booted' (kicked the ball out), and it arched behind me into our own net. It counted as a goal for the opposing team. Also got a ball kicked into my windpipe once (did not damage but it hurt like a bitch).
I also did ballet and karate at the same time before I ended up doing soccer. I am NOT flexible whatsoever, so anything except the actual recitals was hell for me. But I did like karate even though I remember crying once because I couldn't get the kick right, and the person teaching telling me how to do it was stressing me out.
But now, FUCK NO. I would die from stress in a team sport if I messed up. I joined the wrestling team in high school, but after the first practice, I realized how much I didn't want to be there, and I dipped.
10. When was your last physical fight?
I have no idea. Probably when my sister and I were children.
21. What are your plans for this weekend?
Study for one of my finals, but other than that it is a VERY free weekend school-wise. Sunday I have off. So I'm probably going to work more on the Iarcy toxic yuri stuff, my fanart, and my Darcy funko pop. This week compared to the rest of March is a fucking blessing.
22. Do you want to have kids? How many?
HA. HA. I do not trust myself to craft the mental wellbeing of a child. Not that I'd be BAD at it (I think I'd very much be decent at it) but I'm still psycho-analyzing MYSELF out of a crisis every three months. Also my gf and I are very much cat mom people. So probably not as of now.
23. Do you have piercings? How many?
I literally just have my earlobes pierced with one piercing each. I feel like I'm more of a tattoo person than a piercing person ngl (despite not having any yet) and I feel like I'm more likley to got body mods rather than piercings (vampire teeth/split tongue or smth) if I had to chose. But yeah more so tattoos, then body mods, then piercings.
26. What are you craving right now?
Biltong. Please. I don't care if eating an entire stick of it would kick my stomach in the ass, I just need some biltong.
51. Favorite food?
My favorite food in general is mango, because I will consume that shit like its cocoaine. I also really like frozen yogurt, but in the way where I scoop some vanilla yogurt into a bowl and it gets flaky and crunchy. I also really love milkshakes. Several times I have drank milkshakes too quickly and got an upset stomach, but did I care? No. I also like any type of seafood. Especially shellfish.
63. Would you change your name?
I mean, the name I went by for a long time is shorter than my actual name. Zia (using online name as a reference because YES, but neither of these names is my irl one) is just shortened of Ziaimeris, but I didn't know how to spell Ziaimeris as a child and so I just shortend it because it annoyed the shit out of me. I went by Zia unti university, so now I introduce myself as Ziaimeris, but most people who know me (even my family) just call me Zia since I've gone by that since I was like, 6. I have more attatchment to Zia though since I've gone by that for a long time.
69. Do you believe in soulmates?
To some extent yes. Especially because there are so many coencidences between me and my gf that make it kind of scary. I belive it in the way "omg we're soulmates, I'm so glad we found eachother, meant to be" and not "we're soulmates, we are bound forever by the universe forever and ever and we need to STAY together despite ISSUES overwise we DIE."
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Well, since you are feeling festive and so am I, could I have request a fic with Ortho? Just doing a little holiday decorating or some other tradition with a homesick prefect? I don’t know, I just imagine Ortho to be the type to be interested in holiday traditions from another world. Thanks!
Oh hell yeah this slaps. Originally I was going to write about tree decorating but then I had a thought and I didn't want the fic to come off as me info dumping for however many words. I hope this is something like what you had in mind, and happy holidays!
notes: they/them used for Yuu, Ortho is the main focus here but the other first years are mentioned, Yuu and Ortho decide to play Santa. I would absolutely love to hear about any personal holiday traditions of yours, dear reader, as I think those are always very interesting. As always, other fic can be found on my masterlist here.
Christmas. Ortho had searched multiple websites, data banks, and even online journals to see if he could find any mention of such a word outside of the few instances he has heard it muttered by the prefect. He initially thought his searches weren't bearing fruit because Yuu pronounced it several different ways (Chrimis, Crisis, Chrysler???) but he has ultimately concluded those were likely jokes based off of their tone of voice.
That had been what finally made him ask, not even his brother liked laughing at his jokes alone.
"Oh that's one of the big winter holidays in my world." You had told him, trying to sound matter of fact but unable to hide the way your voice cracks with the strain of your homesickness. "I made the mistake of trying to remember a nursery rhyme while Grim was around and ended up telling him about Christmas stockings and now he wants one."
And now you have to explain the concept to him, but with much less pressure as Ortho listens carefully with growing excitement.
"Putting presents in socks! That's really silly but I suppose that there are some holidays here you might find really weird too huh?" Ortho can also see why Grim would be so excited about this particular tradition, a gift (in a sock or no) that has the potential to be made up entirely of candy, fruits, and other foodstuffs sounds very much like him. "So do we just need to find Grim some socks he fits in? You already have a fireplace to hang it on... or are you thinking about giving Grim coal?"
“Well-” It had crossed your mind. “Sometimes adults give chocolate that’s shaped like coal but that’s not really what’s bothering me. You don’t usually use socks for this, you make these really big fake socks. I wanted to make one for Grim, but while I was thinking about how I wanted to decorate it I sort of… thought it would be nice to make stockings for the others, y’know like Ace and Deuce and maaaybe Jack, but then I would need to explain it to them and I don’t want to do that.”
“Oh that’s easy, we just won’t.” Ortho laughs and takes your hand to eagerly drag you towards Sam’s before you can question just what he means by “we.” ~~~~ "Operation sock jaw is a go." Ortho mimics rubbing his hands together gleefully, his lab wear feeling deeply out of place in the unofficial official Ramshackle craft room. A small pile of carefully picked out fabrics and season appropriate accents are neatly folded at the corner of the table as you carefully trace out what you think resembles a pattern for a Christmas stocking as Ortho carefully watches.
"You have really good aesthetic tastes," you nod as you look over the drawings Ortho had provided "this one really matches Ace's clown vibes."
"I'm glad you like it!" He laughs. "I figured a harlequin pattern in Heartslabyul colors suited him perfectly! Deuce was a bit harder to figure out... I didn't just want to slap a playing card on it and call it a day. Jack was a bit easier with how often he searches for information on cacti and succulent care. Oh I can cut the cacti out of the felt if you like?"
"With scissors?" You tentatively ask, not entirely sure how your dorm would hold up if he decides to break out the lasers. But the suggestion seems to flatter Ortho rather than annoy him.
"Oh that'd be fun! I've never really had the need to use normie tools before, this will be just like..." his voice briefly trails off as he looks down at the scissors. You wonder if he is capable of zoning out, being a robot and all, but decide that isn't too far out of the realm of possibility as his next words come out in a stutter. "Hey Yuu, does this sort of feel like an anime to you?" It's not too unexpected a question for Ortho to ask, so you look down at your crafts and really try to think about an answer.
"I guess so?" You gently place the pieces you have cut for Ace's stocking down so you can look out at the snow blanketing the world outside your window. The scene isn't too different than one you might see in your world on a card. But then again- "There's a lot of tropes associated with Christmas in anime, there's an entire genre of weird rom com movies about it, so yeah I guess making crafts like this with you does sort of feel like something I would see in an anime?"
"I thought so!" Ortho happily begins to carefully cut the felt with the scissors, mimicking what he had seen you do with the little tuna fish for Grim's stocking earlier. "That makes me glad, if something is a common enough for people to fantasize about it in an anime, then it has to be really important to the people of your world. And yet no matter where I search I will never be able to find data about it in mine!"
"Doesn't that annoy you a little?" It would stress you, does stress you how familiar and yet distant Twisted Wonderland's traditions are to your own. But the smile Ortho gives you is one of such genuine excitement you feel at least a little of that stress fall away.
"It scared me at first, but then when I got my soul I realized that it meant I had a really good excuse to keep talking to you. More data is never a bad thing! You could give me and my brother ideas for a truly unique game or show, so please, tell me everything you can remember about your world. I'll make sure it's remembered." He means every word he says. It's enough to make you cry.
"Alright, but just remember you asked for it. Where to start?"
#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#ortho shroud#ortho shroud x reader#i had an idle thought that since no Christmas#that mean no hallmark movie#which i think is something i could see ortho being very interested in because A) film research club#B) we know he and idia like b rated horror flicks so ofc he would go crazy about b rated rom coms#also deuce gets a bunny themed stocking#sebek gets a boring one in diasmonia colors and he cries because he thinks it is malleus themed
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Hi, could you please tell us a bit more about Tsundere/Yandere Fumus? I saw what you wrote about Tsundere/Yandere Fumus, and I was curious if you had thought of anything. I really like your writing and I hope I'm not bothering you. Sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language.
Me when I get to talk about an awful man: 😈 (also these are leaning more towards yan then tsun, so sorry about that)
Yandere Fumus x GN! Reader HCs
Tw!! Violence/torture towards reader and other characters, manipulation (guilt tripping) and non-con mentions
Well, firstly, you’re fucked. But you already knew that, didn’t you?
You’d probably meet through being affiliated with someone else, like Satanick or Taffy, rather than meeting Fumus head on.
See, he’s a bit of the asshole curious type like that, always wanting to know what his toys are amusing themselves with.
When you think about it, it's kinda like a child who only wants to play with his peers toys, but more unhinged and fucked up
Either way, despite their wishes, he’ll either stumble across you or go out of his way to visit you.
You wouldn't think much when you do meet him, he's not outwardly threatening compared like others you might have met. In fact, with the way he seems to disregard your presence enirely, like he's above you, you'd probably just think of him as some typical asshole, the only unsettling thing about him bring those piercing violet eyes of his.
Its only when you turn to see your affilates reaction of utter horror and dread that you realize something is terribly wrong.
When he leaves, you try to pry into what they're so worried about, but whether through straight dismissal (Taffy) or dancing around the topic (Satanick) neither will answer you head on.
Anyways, with Fumus's growing interest in you, you can't really afford to worry about either of them, his visits growing more frequent and that same oppressive feeling growing greater as they do.
It won't be long until you find yourself in his domain, the stench of cleaning products permeating the air.
And is that blood you see in the corner?
Your first few visits will ineviably end in screaming and crying, blood splattered on almost every surface of his office, the same loving treatment Fumus gives all his toys.
You might try to reach out to find help during this time, only to be dismissed entirely by Satanick with a helpless grin or a rather unfortunate response of "it never hurts as much the first time" from Taffy.
You could also try to escape... but running from a God is pointless, which you'll find out through bruises, or if you're particularly unlucky, broken bones.
Meanwhile, Fumus is going through somewhat of a... crisis... on his part as well.
See he only meant to play with you out of curiosity... but now... maybe its your sweet crying face, or the withering glares you send his way... there's just something about you that he can't get out of his mind.
And at first he doesn't think about it, he'd always been a bit obsessive with his toys anyways
But then he sees you talking with one of his angels, a small smile on your face, and he can't help the surge of fury that courses through him.
Both because he hates the idea of you with anyone else and because he realizes what this jealousy means for him despite his self insistance of not wanting a "relationship".
Albeit this notion of a relationship is highly onesided.
That afternoon, he's very busy with his scissors, repeatedly plunging them in and out of the poor angel's body.
And that night, he finds himself busy helping himself to your body too, albeit in a different way, despite your protests and struggles
Distantly he wishes he could take a picture of you, looking ruined for him, until he realizes he could have this sight every night if he choosed so.
Luckily for everyone else, and unfortunately for you, at the discovery of his newfound "feelings", he spends more time tormenting you.
Albeit this time his methods are more... pleasureable than his previous ones, though you might find that worse than being tortured based on how you see it.
Its simple enough to keep you from leaving him consequently, even without him having to exert his power.
Just a simple, playful, remark about how lonely he'd be if you left, that he'd have to subsitute you with his precious little angels, and suddenly you're hesitating on carrying out that escape plan.
Not that it would have worked anyways mind you... perhaps next him he catches wind of a new plan he'll just invite you to watch him have fun with Taffy.
In all, attracting Fumus is the worst mistake you could have unknowingly commited, and now you have to deal with the torture of being damned to a god.
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sending in my first ask woot woot 🥳
okok so since rereading your aeon pregnancy au fic i can't help but think about the twins all grown up living their best lives with the coolest aeon parents until we get to their preteen/teenage years.
annnnnnnd i leave you with this ask: do you have any hcs about soft twin going through a little rebellious phase when she's older??? 👀
(yes yes this ask is for soft twin porque ella es preciosa, and we need more hcs for soft twin!!!)
idk why but i keep leaning towards soft twin acting out after her classmates made her feel a certain way for not being ‘cool enough’ like her sis. maybe soft twin isn't used to hearing those comments about her when she's so used to being praised as a good kid compared to her sis (not that she would ever listen to those praises or agree w/anyone who talks bad about her fam >:(
and now that she’s older, soft twin suddenly gets the complete opposite experience from fighty twin at school.
maybe the comments from her peers make soft twin have a mini identity crisis for being a 'goody two-shoes'? maybe she tries smth out of character partly to prove them wrong, partly to explore other sides of her personality she never really got to explore as a kid?
ANYWAYS what do you think would be soft twin's first 'rebellious act'? would fighty twin be involved somehow? how would soft twin feel after it happens? would she try smth like it again? how would Ada and Leon react to all of this???
dis for you hehe
ALSO I SWEAR YOU HAVE SENT ME ONE BEFORE but
yayayya
OMG A REREAD i should probably do that myself lol find more spelling and grammar errors i've left in there by accident sjkfbskjfksbf
YES YES I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS but since nothing is canon in my head, i just have THEORIES. AEON TWINS THEORIES.
YES THERE ISN'T ENOUGH LOVE FOR SOFT TWIN i also have wonder if people already know which is which lol
i like to think she has a small one, mostly in her early teens. probably earlier than fighty twin has a rebellious phase. but i haven't really thought about what she would fight about lol
AH YES YES i see what you mean. i do think they're both very smart. i mean they have leon and ada as their parents, you KNOW they're gonna be all types of smart. i do think that soft twin can be a lil clumsy sometimes. she's shy and quiet and just generally deemed the awkward one since she's not as open to being extroverted like fighty twin
I FEEL LIKE even if she were to rebel.. she would do it in the way that like. introverted kids do. either something extreme like a overt personality change... OR she just runs and hides.
i can see her finding herself just needing to escape. but ofc ada finds her. she doesn't make herself known right away but allows leon to talk to her. i do think that soft twin is a daddy's girl and although she loves ada. she just needs to softness of leon when she needs comfort. with ada, she does get some but sometimes she needs the lovely dovey kind. almost smothering lol
i don't see ada being overbearing or smothering her
SORRY MY THOUGHTS ARE EVERYWHERE AND IM NOT PROOFREADING THIS LOL
i can DEF SEE her chopping her hair short. i like to think that ada keeps the girls hair long since she sees it as a privilege that she never had. something something about safety but also just being allowed to be a girls girl lol. soft twin probably has a really big attachment to her long hair and ends up just chopping it all off at some point
she regrets it and spends a few years growing it back out lol
I DUNNO I HAVE ALOT OF THOUGHTS STILL
#poisonarrow98#ada wong#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy#aeon#ask heart#leon x ada#heart answers#leon kennedy x ada wong#aeon twins#aeon twins hcs#pregnancy au
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Jason has an identity crisis, tries to fuck his way out of all his feelings and fails miserably.
Part 1 of Sirens Scream Names Forgotten by Tomorrow, Laid to Rest in Infinity
(also posted under cut)
“Be kind to the jaded souls, the ones with jagged edges and bones weary and crumbling. Be gentle with them not because you may break them to pieces with one wrong touch, not because you may cut yourself on their serrated fingers, but because the world has never known to be gentle with them. Because they have never known to be gentle with themselves.”
- don’t you think they’ve suffered enough? (j.p.)
It’s easy to slip away from that warehouse in the chaos of his own trap springing, leaving the hero and his newest child soldier with nothing but his laughter ringing in their ears. For all of Batman’s tech, his strength, his mind, there’s no way for a living and breathing man to track a phantom that doesn’t want to be found. Dead men tell no tales and all that.
(Oh, but you do.)
That part hadn’t been planned, but he’s more than a little smug about handling it as smoothly as he did. Even unprepared, there was just too much that he knew about Bruce and wasn’t that just unsettling to old Batsie?
(You wanted him to know you, didn’t you? Wanted him to see past the mask.)
(Shut up, it’s not time.)
A wrench like Bruce had a certain amount of unpredictability, that was true. Humans usually did. But to fucking show up personally for a seemingly small potatoes villain like him and not just send that little shit of a replacement Robin like he’d been anticipating… you’ve changed your game a bit, huh old man? No, he’s apparently now made just enough of a name for himself that the Bat himself wanted to talk. At least the talking part hadn't changed. Same as always, it was about the smokescreen, the show. The act of making Bruce feel better about himself, like he had tried to deescalate the situation but any violence that resulted was always someone else’s fault. Never his. They all forced his hand, you see?
(Like you’re trying to now.)
What a fucking joke , like the old man would ever say something worth hearing. Trying to be reasonable, through heavy handed threats of grievous bodily harm, how the fuck did I ever go along with that? Being a child was only so much of an excuse. He’d been old enough then to understand the words that were being thrown about, he’d just been too caught up in being the Robin to Batman that he hadn’t cared about the meanings like he does now. Being on the receiving end makes him look more closely at this warped funhouse mirror that’s become his… life? Unlife?
Whatever. The specifics of his… situation … are too complicated to parse through his feelings on those right now. Not when all he wants to do is take his now warm and living fist and slam it into Bruce’s face for having the fucking nerve to bring another child into this, like Jason meant nothing. Just the first body in a God knows how long of a line of them to come. Some kind of demented conga line of dead birds; maybe he’s more like the Joker than he wants to think he is and that thought makes him snort a bitter huff of amusement under his breath then grimace at the ache in his ribs.
(He’s a vampire bat, maybe, they feed on birds.)
(Fuck.)
That’s a whole other can of worms that he is not looking into right now. Bad enough his carcass was replaced so easily. Even worse if it was planned.
If he goes down that line of thought, he might light this whole city on fire and leave Bruce screaming in the ashes, bleeding out from a thousand cuts.
No, no, no, he’s got a plan already and that’s bleeding this city dry and watching Bruce try to desperately revive its picked over cadaver the way he never tried to revive Jason’s before he gives the old shit the mercy of a bullet-
(Maybe you’re the vampire.)
-just because that’s justice . And that’s all the Batman’s after, right? All he’s ever been after, if all the lines he fed to his Robins-
(His food-)
-could be believed.
(Chewed you up and spit you in the ground, he’ll do it again and again-)
His fist raps the alley wall a few times, enough to sting and drive back the looming cloud that threatens to swirl around and become a living typhoon. There’ll be blood under his gloves from how tight he’s clenched his fist, splitting open old wounds, but that’s fine. What’s blood loss going to do? Kill him? He’s no stranger to handling a bruise or a hundred, that’s par for the course in his life now. Has been for years. A couple cracked ribs and some bloody knuckles are not going to slow him down.
No, what really fucking stings is whatever is left in that cavity inside his chest, the hole that he used to think was patched when Bruce brought him into that huge house, when Alfred smiled and snuck him cookies.
(That was the fucking dream, wasn’t it? Warm house, warm food, then you get the shit beat out of you to go fight crime.)
Turnabout is fair play and all that nonsense.
The side of his fist finds that same brick wall but he doesn’t smash into it, just rests his gloved knuckles against the abrasive surface. No use breaking his hand for a momentary fit of rage, it won’t help anything and he needs to keep his head on straight. There’s a plan here and he hasn’t gotten this far by losing his cool. It’s just a grounding point that he presses against, one that won’t crumble no matter how hard he shoves. It’s exactly what he needs because God knows there isn’t a person he can take this out on-
(Yes there is.)
(Shut up.)
But his body turns towards his magnetic north anyways and he doesn’t stop it. It was a token protest anyways. Truth will out and all that bullshit. Well, Batman didn’t get the truth tonight but someone else will. Someone else will look this horrid amalgamation in the eye and either run or treat him just as gingerly as Talia did. Like the weapon he’d spent so long honing himself to be, the monster he’d welcomed into that place that-
That still hurts. It still hurts, in that cavity inside. The part he never thought had a chance in hell of crawling out of that hole and back into his sad sack of a meat suit. Jason Todd went into the ground a whole boy, the Red Hood emerged a warped reimagining of that little corpse, grown strong and tough and-
(And you failed.)
One day, he’d finish that fucking clown. One day, he’d dig the bastard a pit to Hell next to what used to be Jason Todd’s grave, but first, he had a bigger score to settle. In the end, in the here and now, this wasn’t about the Joker or even about Jason fucking dying. It was about Tim goddamn Drake.
Because what had changed, really? What changed? Nothing. He’s died and come back, he’s been buried and dug himself out with his fucking belt buckle and nothing changed. Not even Robin changed. Tim Drake is just another child following Bruce, spouting his words, punching the people Bruce points at and all of them, both of us, were just replacements for Dick who was a replacement for the family Bruce lost. And none of them ever lived up to it, I died trying to be that and still failed to do that right-
It’s as easy as breathing, though that’s a little painful right now, slipping up the wire-frame fire escape in the darkness. Never change, Gotham, never change. A last sweeping look over the city confirms that he’s alone. Or as alone as a log ever gets in a stacked fire pit, waiting for a match to drop. Or maybe this city’s already smoldering and he’s trying to frantically pour water on it.
(If water is gasoline maybe. Then you’d be God.)
(Shut. Up.)
His ribs ache as he slips into her apartment through a once locking window, confident no one is following him, not even the little shit in a stolen suit who’d tried so hard to get the drop on him. But the kid is just that, still a kid. Jason’s been in the game for a long time, not even Bruce knows how far his reach in Gotham goes now. This isn’t Batman’s city anymore, it’s Red Hood’s. It’s his. Bruce may fight crime, but Jason grew up embedded in it. He knows it in a way Bruce and his silver spoon never will, no matter how he studies its occupants. Because he isn’t one of them like Jason is. To a grown gutter urchin, these streets are home, their busted lights a balm to his soul, the screams of brakes and people alike a familiar lullaby. Even the muted throbbing in his face is familiar, almost a comfort of home. It’s certainly not the worst hit he’s ever taken, even discounting the obvious comparison.
Her bedroom is empty like he knew it would be. It’s Friday, she doesn’t work tomorrow and it’s not even that late. Barely past eleven. Really, he’s impressed with himself, taking an early night off. His ribs will hurt like a bitch tomorrow and his cheek might be fractured from the stupid kid’s pretty solid punch before he split, but the mask did it’s job, taking most of what might have otherwise knocked him down. And he’d left the Bat and his replacement-
(God damn you, did I ever mean anything to you besides being the means to your end?)
-frazzled and afraid. A few more steps in this grand plan and the truth would come out, the web he’d been weaving around The World’s Greatest Detective would close and there would be no way out. Either Bruce would pull the trigger, or Jason would. If you pull it old man, it might not stick. Is that what you want?
At this point he doesn’t know who he’s talking to, his imaginary Bruce or himself.
Where is she? He needs a distraction from these swirling thoughts, a way out of the growing labyrinth in his head. She’s always been that since he found her, a light in the dark, a soothing balm over an open wound. She’s not part of this world, with its shrouds and lies and agendas, she’s just a girl living her life and unfortunate enough to have found the devil on her doorstep.
Crazy enough to have let him in, despite all the warning signs.
The whisper soft humming from the dark abyss beyond the doorway echoes in his ears like a siren song, alerting him to her location and he smiles under the mask. Drawing him into her embrace again, the only comfort he had that didn’t come from watching the life leave someone’s eyes. The only warmth he felt that didn’t involve him being elbow deep in someone’s chest cavity to feel it, didn’t need a slit artery or have a-
(bomb as my pyre, feeling flesh melt, unable to move, unable to scream-)
-match burning down to his fingertips just to feel something other than apathy and bone melting rage.
He watches her from the doorway, silent and shadowed. There’s no moon tonight, no star bright enough to turn on him and expose his presence or even grace him with a shadow of his own. No streetlights. She’s an office worker, not a millionaire, so she’s not in the part of the city where they keep replacing those when they inevitably get shot out. But the shirt she’s wearing is light grey, mine, she’s wearing my… Jason’s shirt, and the walking shell of Jason Todd isn’t the one who watches it float around the room like a ghost, flickering at the hem in time with the movement of her legs, the back vanishing and reappearing in time with the swinging of her loose braid.
Blue light washes over her face, staining her lips as she clicks on the kettle. It takes every ounce of his considerable self control not to stalk over, not to press his fingers, mouth, entire being against those lips to make sure they’re warm with life and breath, not washed out and cold like a corpse. He’s seen too many, he’s made even more-
(you’ve been one too, don’t you remember what it was like trying to move those stiff limbs? It took you hours to feel again, trapped in that box-)
-and if there is one certainty in life it’s that if she keeps welcoming into her sanctuary, she’ll be another one to add to the list of his sins. His hands aren’t clean and she isn’t safe. This was a mistake, he should not have come here, he should have done what he usually does. Rampage around another supervillain or five for old times sake. Grit his teeth and put his shoulder back to the grindstone to burrow his way deeper into Gotham’s underworld, chiseling away at the Batman’s iron grip until he replaces it with his titanium one instead. But no, he’s an idiot . So, he’s here, in her apartment in the dead of night, uninvited.
Jason Todd, the shy and uncomfortable man she met at a fun little nightclub, is not watching her.
The Red Hood, Gotham’s latest war dog, is.
(Is he?)
Sometimes, he wonders if there’s a difference anymore but it doesn’t matter right now. Not when they both want her. Because they’re both me but who the fuck is that anymore? Jason’s dead, the Red Hood is Joker’s, what am I?
She notices him, of course she does. She’s too perceptive not too. Sometimes, he wonders what happened to make her that way, wants to ask about the small, oddly scattered scars like knife wounds-
(too similar to yours)
-that dot her body, but she doesn’t ask about his disappearances, his odd hours, the blood and death that have burrowed so deep into him that they’re practically lovers, so he keeps his mouth shut. Her secrets are her own, God knows he has plenty. Whatever has happened to her, it’s tuned her into the smallest shifts in her carefully created atmosphere, her protective bubble, her sanctuary. She notices him and there’s no telling what gave him away. The ragged breathing behind his mask, the soft creak of leather when his fists clenched, some other presence that he can feel clinging to him like a second skin and dripping from his lips like blood as he pants-
It’s a phantom, given life by his every exhale, moving in a disjointed and phony copy of his own limbs, but it’s his and his alone. Rage made manifest, always closer on nights like these, ones where the acrid scents of smoke and gunpowder and iron cling to him even after a shower, like it's an expensive cologne and he wonders how she hasn’t guessed the truth. Or maybe she has. She’s smart, too smart, too perceptive not to.
(Then why doesn’t she run from me?)
Robin would have been good for her to find. Even an older, jaded, more independent Robin like Dick would have been better. But no, she’d picked the worst possible one, the skeletal remains of a bird too young to fly before it was launched from the nest to fall, to struggle, to die. There was no feasible way she could have known, sidling up to him and flashing him that smile, ignoring every warning sign with the single minded determination of a self-destructive spiral, but shouldn’t she have seen? Seen the blood under his fingernails-
(they’re clean, you wear gloves)
-seen the fangs in his mouth-
(they’re normal teeth)
-heard the growl in his voice that screamed run, run, run-
(Why didn’t you run?)
No, she’d looked into the lion’s mouth and smiled without fear, run delicate fingers through his mane, put her number in his phone and yanked him into her addictive embrace. She should have found Robin and maybe she’d find that little brat one day but right now she has a nightmare made flesh in her kitchen.
His hand flexes, wrapped around the butt of the gun holstered on his thigh like it’s a child’s comfort toy, not a deadly mechanism of destruction that he could so easily turn on her. Never, I never will . If a bullet kills her, it won’t be his, even if it’s because of him the trigger is pulled. Small comforts. The other fist clenches harder at the bitter thought, like the pressure will stop him from doing something even stupider than standing here. Like he can stop himself from reaching out, a demon to an angel, falling further over his abyss of damnation to reach her divine light.
So she notices. So she turns, so she sees. Sees him, towering in the shadows like he wants to melt into them. Sees the red covering his jaw and mouth and nose and cheeks, the black covering his eyes, the hood above all that. Sees the kevlar, the weapons, the gloves, the rage pulsing from his skin like a living being. Sees the truth of the man she’s been letting into her life and into her bed, a reaper come to take his due, coming here was a mistake-
He sees the truth on her face, the flicker of comprehension and complex emotion that cannot be anything but fear . Hears it, in the way her breath catches on an inhale that sounds like a gunshot between them, her to him, echoing over the actual gunshots outside. This was a mistake, you’ve fucked up-
Then, she’s slowly stepping toward him, like he’s an animal she’s trying not to spook. You’ve fucked up, Todd . This nice, kind, normal girl who was somehow able to see whatever shell of Jason was left under all of his Red Hood bravado, now being confronted with the truth that they are one in the same and something else entirely and fuck, he’s just fucked this whole thing up, isn’t that what you wanted? You knew she would never be safe-
If she runs, he won’t blame her even one bit. He’ll let her go, even though she threatens his whole plan because she knows now. But the memories of her fingers twisted with his as she dragged Jason Todd along a park path, joy in her eyes and laughter on her lips even when he stumbled… He’ll let her go. His hands are weapons that Bruce shaped long ago, people always choose to avoid him instead of crossing his path but she’s headstrong in her lack of fear. He’s a man to her, nothing more, and even if she runs from the devil, he’ll let her escape this one time just for that kindness.
She doesn’t run.
She also doesn’t take his hand.
She doesn’t touch him at all.
No, Anna kneels in front of him, eyes not wavering from his face even as her mouth is level with his groin. Jason doesn’t dare breathe, what the fuck is she doing and she doesn’t break eye contact as she opens her mouth and presses a filthy kiss to the front of his pants, tongue dragging up his inseam to mouth at his belt buckle as she looks up at him and blinks once, a question.
There’s a breathless beat where she stares up at him and Jason does his best to play off his surprise as stretching the moment like he’s considering her offer, like he wouldn’t die a thousand deaths to take her up on it.
(She didn’t run. Take what you can get.)
The syrup slow moment passes as he follows her desire into whatever abyss this is. This is why he came here, to forget. And it’s so, so easy to forget when she’s smiling at him.
Anything else can come later.
—
He wakes up the next morning sore . Both from the strain of fighting those who he doesn’t want to fucking think about right now and the intensity of his worst, or maybe smartest, spur of the moment decision that followed.
“Shit,” he breathes, watching his breath puff out in the chilly air. Her heat isn’t working again, fucking cheap-ass landlord . He rolls onto his back, flinging an arm over his eyes to stop the assault of the full daytime outside, taking a deep breath.
Last night was a line that he crossed at full fucking sprint, he should not have come here in full Red Hood costume after a confrontation with Batman and his replacement-
Jason takes a slow, calming breath. Rage and panic won’t help anything, it’ll just cloud his judgment. And he’s already clouded enough because he came here last night instead of running to ground in a safe house like he absolutely should have . It doesn’t matter that he lost any potential of a tail, that he was clear of trackers, he had promised himself that first night that he would not get Anna mixed up in this. She’s a good, nice girl and has no business being close to him but he’s fucking pathetic and she cares about him and he’s drawn to her sweetness like a moth to flame. Knowing it’s going to burn him but doing it anyway.
There’s a part of him that knows she’s known something this whole time. He’s subtle but she’s smart. And now he’s blown the whole charade, breaking into her apartment at ass o’clock at night in full Red Hood regalia… god damn it, Todd. One person who cared about whatever’s left of you . It was a mistake, she’ll see that in the light of day. The bravery the dark gave her will fade. She’s a practical woman, she’ll know it’s too dangerous to let him stay.
But he’s a grown ass man who has to face the music he wrote, he can’t wallow in her bed forever. All his clothes, and his fucking mask God damn it all, are strewn in the other rooms. His dick twitches at the memory and he hates himself a little, mind-blowing sex does not make what you did okay, own up to it and face her like a man. So he takes a deep breath, pulls his arm away from his face and looks at the empty side of the bed. She’s probably been up for a while now. Rises with the sun and doesn’t even think of stopping her movements until after it sinks. Maybe she’ll give me a secret for a secret?
But that’s a hypocrite talking. Just because he busted into her apartment and basically handed her his head on a silver platter does not mean she’s going to do the same. And if she came to hide out in Gotham of all places…
If he digs, it won’t be hard to find out. But where will he be then? What good would it do? No, this is fine.
She’s Anna, that’s all that matters.
He’s… someone, but in her bed and in her life, he feels a bit closer to human. Maybe not Jason Todd, maybe never again, but… closer to the dream of it that almost feels like a memory on the good days.
He sighs, then stands up, rubbing a hand over the scruff on his jaw, mumbling to himself about needing to shave, then goes over to ‘his’ drawer in her dresser, the one where she keeps all the clothes she’s stolen from him over the months they’ve been… whatever they are. Whatever you can be when you’ve been lying to her, you bastard. Can’t be a relationship, that’s for fucking sure.
Maybe it can be.
Fed up with his own internal monologue, the very thing he came here to escape, he pulls out a pair of sweatpants and yanks them on, then runs a hand through his hair and looks in the mirror. Tired, he looks tired. Bruises on his ribs and scrapes on his arms, the beginnings of a shiner on one cheekbone from the little prick, a few hickeys scattered along his throat and collarbones. Stop stalling, he glares at his own reflection, then turns on his heel and stalks towards the bedroom door, opening it and stepping into the apartment before he loses what little nerve he has left. The King of Gotham, brought to his knees by a slip of a girl whose smile could melt ice in a snowstorm. Christ, Todd, what’ve you come to?
She’s in the kitchen again, her kettle heating up for morning tea. His heart aches as he leans in the doorway, folding his arms and watching the way his shirt rides up her thighs as she walks, a slight hitch in her step, the way her braid can’t cover all the marks he left on her throat last night, the way she stirs honey into her tea, a sure sign that her throat is raw from- He breathes through his nose to banish the image before he pops a completely inappropriate boner.
Instead he refocuses on how the sunlight catches the colors in her lovely hair, highlighting the lighter brown streaks hidden away in the dark color and showing that it is, in fact, brown and not black. A deep chocolate color that makes him think of syrup or rich, dark wood of expensive furniture that no one wants to ruin. She’s beautiful, humming to herself and smiling as she takes a sip of this still-too-hot tea like she always does, hissing a bit but then making a small noise of satisfaction that it’s just right. Taking the tea bag out and disposing of it, turning around with a bright smile and-
“Hey,” she says, still smiling, eyes still shining and crinkling in the corners in genuine delight, her voice a little raspy, “morning sleepyhead.”
“Morning,” he rumbles out, arms still crossed, waiting for her to tell him to get the hell out before he drags her into his complicated mess of a life-
She holds out a hand, sipping her tea again. “Come’ere.”
He stares at the extended hand, glances over to the open area where her living room is. He sees his Red Hood suit, carefully folded and placed on the coffee table, his mask resting on top. Bold and open in the broad daylight, not hidden away or uncomfortably left untouched. Cared for.
He looks back at her and her open smile, her quiet, understanding eyes, still crinkled at the edges, happy. Slowly, he straightens, unfolds his arms, waits for her hand to draw away, for her to flinch.
She doesn’t. He takes her hand and steps into her sunlight with a smile, with something in his chest that might be the memory of hope.
(Neither of them see their shadows lurking in the corners, looming larger than them, just as entwined. How hers looms over his in the bright rays they bask in, the darkness swallowing the sun. Just as hungry.
He may be the Red Hood, but Silena is a wolf.)
#jason todd#bruce wayne#tim drake#batman#my writing#ao3 link#as this series is rapidly approaching it's conclusion I've now decided to start posting it here too
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hi! could we request a glenn from twd tree level headmate? thank you
yea ofc! sorry if this one isn't quite up to standard, we had a hard time with this one for some reason /gen
Disclaimer: we knew nothing about this source prior to your request, so please excuse any and all inaccuracies.
|| New plant incoming ||
Name[s] - Glenn, Callum, Finn
Age - ChronoAge: 23-25 // PermaAge: 18
Gender[s] - LibraMasculine, AMAB Transmasc, VagueBoy, ApocolypseGender, Protectic
Sexuality[s]/Orientation - Heterosexual/romantic, Biqueerplatonic,
Role[s] - Protector, Chainbreaker, Innkeeper, Scout
3rd person pronouns - He/him, they/them, se/sim, sae/saem, run/runner, pro/protect, medi/medicine, supply/supplys, sur/vive, safe/safes, fam/family, death/dead, care/cares, sprint/sprints, scar/scars, bleed/bleeds, fear/fears, pain/pains, kill/killed, crisis/crisisself, apoc/apocalypse, hope/hopeless[/ful], 💥/💥s, 🍽️/🍽️s, 🧰/🧰s, 🎒/🎒s
2nd person pronouns - you/yours/yourself, adrenaline/adrenaliners/adrenalinerself, apoco/apocalypses/apocalypseself, calm/calmrs/calmrself, corpse/corpsers/corpserself, kou/kours/kourself, scar/scarers/scarerself, agile/agilers/agilerself, 🎒/🎒rs/🎒rself, 🫂/��rs/🫂rself, 🍕/🍕rs/🍕rself, 💚/💚rs/💚rself
1st person pronouns - I/me/my/mine/myself, pi/piz/pizza/pizzaine/pizzaself, ru/run/runner/runners/runnerself, da/dash/dashes/dashine/dashself, fo/foo/food/foods/foodself, em/emerg/emergency/emergencies/emergencyself, fri/frien/friend/friends/friendself, sci/sca/scar/scars/scarself, 💥/💥e/💥y/💥ine/💥yself, x_x/x_xe/x_xy/x_xine/x_xyself, 💚/💚e/💚y/💚ine/💚yself
Species - Human
Source [if applicable] - TWD [Glenn]
Likes - helping others, delivering supplies, running/sprinting, strategy and logic, keeping loved ones safe, optimism/looking on the brightside
Dislikes - Not being able to help/feeling helpless, small/confined places, selfishness, betrayal
Typing quirk - no capitals, replaces “f” with “ph” [ e.g. hello- oh you need a phavor? yea oph course! just don’t phorget ]
Fun fact - folds their pizza diagonally and cuts off the crust for later- it ends up in the trash…
Kin list - German ShepardKin, ApocalypseKin, BeeHearted, Wind[object?]Kin, PenguinKin, European Turtle Dove[therian], Hope[emotion/concept]Kin
Fave time of day - 5:05pm and am [or 05:05 / 17:05 for military time]
Faceclaim[s] -
[1 // 2]
CisIDs - CisSurvivor, CisAMAB, CisTrauma, CisC-PTSD, CisPeoplePleaser, CisBlackHair, CisAsian-American, CisWavyHair, CisScarred, CisLoyal, CisEnthusiastic, CisHarmed, CisCalmVoice, CisHighEmpathy, CisMorningPerson, CisFWLD
TransIDs - PermaAbled, TransResurrected, TrisHarmful, TransFrench, TransRadioVoice, TransSev[more severe]Scars, TransRottingHeart, TransCollector, TransCaneUser, TrisFieldMedic, NullNightmares, TransMasoSadist, TransACD, TransZombie, TransRotting, TrisDead, Perma18
Paras - 🐙 //⚱️// 🧹
Other ids - Fox Alter, AsynQueer
Violence level - 3.20
Journal entry - “i really need to go grab more bandages and gauze… it pheels so wrong to be running low, plus pi scraped up 💥y legs while running through some brambles. em’ve also been considering reading or listening to medical textbooks while ru go on runs, sci really want to help people and x_x pheel like that would be one oph the best ways to. or maybe i could get into delivering items and supplies again… so many options.”
Remember: headmates almost never form exactly as depicted here. You can also alter anything on here to better fit your system and needs!
|| Plant packaged and sent ||
Response by: Tree and Juniper X.
Plant grown by: Charlie, Tree, and Juniper X.
#bah#bah blog#baa#baa blog#build a headmate#build an alter#alter creation#headmate creation#alter packs#headmate packs#create a headmate#system#endo safe#para safe#endo friendly#plural#radq#radq safe#transid#transid safe#pro transid#↳˗ˏˋPlants Packaged and Sentˊˎ˗ ↴
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End of the Year 2024! The Games I Didn't Like
It is time for the most prestigious time of the year. All the games that were going to come out in 2024 have, and now it is time for the most illustrious of awards: The 8bitsupervillain End of the Year Bests, Worsts, and I Didn’t Particularly Care Fors. I have applied the usual scientific rigor against these titles, and have settled on this particular batch of games for your consideration. You might find yourself awestruck by my sheer audacity at some of the inclusions on the lists, but I assure you I have done a lot of soul-searching and have come away from it with the conclusion these are the correct placements. My game of the year awards are just as valid as any of the awards you’ll find elsewhere.
The Games I Didn't Like 2024!
There is a distinction I would like to make between the games I didn’t like and the games I didn’t particularly care for. It’s a small but crucial distinction, the ones I didn’t like sparked a small measure of hatred on my part. They made me feel something other than a vague sense of “yeah, okay I guess.” They’re not bad games in the sense that they’re mechanically broken or anything like that, it all just comes down to personal preference. At least to clarify, I don’t think any of these are mechanically broken, I just didn’t like them.

Legal Dungeon
Starting off with a puzzle game no one has ever heard of. Legal Dungeon is a narrative puzzle game with some light RPG elements, you try to organize the relevant files relating to the case your working on to determine a suspects guilt, or lack thereof. The cases progress in ascending levels of severity starting with charging someone with the grievous crime of insulting a police officer leading up to various murder cases. The problem I have with this game is it pretends like it’s introducing a grander conspiracy for the various crimes you’re organizing/solving but ultimately just sort of peters out without any satisfactory conclusion. I mentioned the game has light RPG elements, and that’s because as you solve inconsistencies with the crimes or note any particular oddities in the statements you gain attack power for when you face off with the villain of the case. It’s really not worth the time, or even getting that worked up over, I just remember quite vividly disliking it.

Without wishing to delve into spoilers I dislike this particular visual novel because of the way it takes some pre-established plot threads introduced earlier in the series and just completely ruined them. This entry in particular was so personally vexing for me it instilled a momentary crisis that my recent foray into visual novels has been a complete and utter waste of time. Other people claim to love this particular chapter, but I don’t understand these people this was the worst of the entries written by Ryukishi07 that I have ever read. And that’s saying something since as a whole I don’t know if I can actually recommend Higurashi as a series without some massive qualifiers.

This was one of the games that Konami had announced back in 2022 in an attempt to garner some fan attention in an effort to try to resurrect the once dead Silent Hill series. I do sort of wonder how this entry was received, I don’t really bother looking at reviews much any more so I’m curious if other people liked it more than me. I didn’t like this game very much primarily because I don’t like this type of horror game any more. The slowburn walk around inspecting the environments and then eventually there’s a spooky monster chasing you. I was getting sick of this in Outlast 2, and seven years later I care even less when the first entry in Silent Hill’s revival does it. I like the look of the monster in the game, it looks very neat, I also like some of the gameplay things it does. It takes the old Silent Hill idea of the radio making noise when monsters are afoot, but modernizes it to be your in-game smartphone/the speaker in the PS5 controller making noise instead. This might sound weird, given this is the third on my Games I Didn’t Like, but I didn’t particularly mind the story. It is a bit heavy-handed, sure with the suicide, bullying, and unrequited love beats it makes, but I didn’t mind it overall. Even the less than charitable description of the ending that a lot of people assign to it didn’t particularly bother me.
My dislike for the game stems primarily from the puzzles that aren’t very good, and the scenes where you’re being chased by the monster. It does that thing a lot of these types of horror games do that when the monster sees you it’s an instant death and restart. I don’t really know how you can make such a thing more palatable, it would probably look extremely stupid if the monster you conjured out of guilt and remorse just throttled you a couple of times and let you start running again.

I don’t like it. I find the actual gameplay in this video game to be annoyingly bad. Also it must be remembered: games are more than just their story.
For reasons I can’t fully justify the gameplay started really grating on my nerves. Maybe it’s down to the game’s insistence on keeping the old click to move gameplay style that the series has possessed since the original, but I was getting really fed up towards the conclusion of the game. A lot of my dislike towards the gameplay can actually be traced back to Diablo III, and a lot of western action games now that I think about it. The boss fights aren’t particularly hard, they just take a while to do because of how tanky the bosses have been made over the last decade or so. They just take a ridiculous amount of hits to kill, and it’s more time consuming than it is an actual challenge, and they try to make these bosses seem like a legitimate challenge by spawning in dozens of smaller trash mobs to steal your attention away from the boss, and after a while it just becomes irritating to fight. Especially when these these time consuming bosses kill you when they’re just about dead only to find despite having distinct phases the game doesn’t actually have midfight checkpoints so you have to begin the entire process over.
Also, unlike the last two entries where the stories are okay, I find Diablo IV personally offensive. They take decades worth of established lore and decide to completely and utterly rewrite it with each new entry. This is profoundly irritating when the story was one of the only enjoyable things about the Diablo series up until this point. The newer games in the franchise haven’t been doing so great in the gameplay department for years, having been long outclassed by other much better designed action RPGs. So the fact they took one of the aspects that remained enjoyable in this entire franchise and just start ruining it harder than the last two games is a very bitter pill to swallow.
It doesn’t even really have anything that makes me want to try to stomach it and play it some more. As I mentioned other action RPGs have come along that have severely stolen its thunder. I’ve read elsewhere that the Vessel of Hatred has improved the game a lot compared to how it used to be, but I wouldn’t know. I’ve managed to ignore the game so far and I sincerely doubt there’s much that could make me go back to it at this point. Unless they fired every single person who was responsible for the story so far. Then I might go back to it, or, and this is an impossible dream of mine that I know will never happen, they have Team Ninja make a Diablo game.
#end of the year#diablo iv#diablo#higurashi#higurashi when they cry#higurashi no naku koro ni#silent hill#the short message#silent hill the short message#legal dungeon
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My real thoughts about the mass layoffs
These days I think the news about mass layoffs really is starting to change my perspective on work. It's something I'm contemplating more about whether I want to re-join the workforce or not. If I don't, then I really need to commit to a routine that's not a typical working schedule. I'm not exactly too deep into my career or anything. I only spent 6 years working after finishing school. But I don't think these wide scale layoffs are going to be the last of things. It won't be the norm, but it won't be a rarity either.
I think mass layoffs really suck for people who worked in their career for over 15-20 years. They have a family, and other living expenses. They probably worked hard to where they are, and they just pretty much got thrown out like trash. Not going to sugar coat the truth. When you get laid off, it's pretty cold and brutal. There's no emotions in regards to a business decision. But it makes you think those people probably placed all of their enthusiasm, energy, livelihood, happiness and fulfillment at their jobs. And now these layoffs put them in emotional and financial darkness as well. I can't say whether mass layoffs is justifiable or not because I don't have the numbers or details to how they make those decisions. But it does go against the narrative of the "american dream" in which finding a job leads to some stability and security. This sort of proves it doesn't always. It's kind of depressing to think that way, where people firmly believe their time at a job mattered but it didn't. All they did was making someone richer.
These days I don't even know how to approach a new job. Should I feel enthusiastic or apathetic so I don't involve my emotions? Logically, you shouldn't get too attached to your job, because they can end the working relationship anytime. So it would save your mental health by feeling no emotional attachment. But that kind of existence is kind of depressing. But, the more attached you do become to your job, the more traumatized you feel when you get terminated. It's sort of a like romantic relationship. That's why I think it's better not put all of your eggs in one basket, and try to seek fulfillment other then a job.
You start to wake up and question whether you want to spend another 20 years of your life chasing the rat race and then come to dead end. For me, I don't like the idea of depending my livelihood over to someone else, but that's exactly what being an employee is about. If it's not your typical day job, then I really need to figure out a career and lifestyle tailored to my needs. It's just really hard to let go of the previous idea where I wanted to work as designer at some company for a long time. However, I do think it's a better idea to decide early then when I reach 40 or 50 then have some mid life crisis if I get laid off again. The older you become, the more difficult it is secure stable employment.
Don't get me wrong though, I'm sure there's people who worked their entire lives as an employee and felt happy or fulfilled throughout their entire career. I don't think it's for me. It's kind of like school, I wasn't a great student because I really disliked the structural environment where you do assigned homework you don't really care about. I can't sit at a small desk doing the same homework, and being surrounded by people who don't really like you lol. It's a similar concept at work. You sit in a small cubicle, doing the same thing everyday in a highly structural environment, and being surrounded by people who don't really like you. It's your typical struggle of a creative person.
Truthfully, sometimes I wished was that normal student who actually likes school and get good grades and had a lot of friends. In a similar notion, I sort of wished I was a normal employee who actually like their job and make friendships at work. I just notice I'm not that type of individual. It gets really frustrating too, such as why am I always like this? I just abhor those lifestyles, it just feels so suffocating and limiting? I always question how can those people be so happy? The majority perceives it that way, it must be true. Well, it's like choosing a career. One career can outright make you miserable and make you feel like a failure, but it doesn't mean you are a failure. It just means you haven't really found the right lifestyle, the right people, and the right type of work that fits you. I'm constantly trying to figure that out because I obviously don't fit the mold of a "normal person."
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