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knockyasocksoff2022 · 18 hours ago

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Ideal No. 15

(7,119 words)

(A/N: Is this the longest chapter yet? LMAO, eat up! I had it mostly done before now, so IDK why it took me so long, if I didn't procrastinate, the total writing time was like three days, maybe. Plot bunnies are bitches, I guess. The moral of the story is: yell at me more in the comments! Only one or two more chapters to go!)

Thanks once again to @fyodorsushankaaa for all the encouragement!

He looks like a scared puppy, readying to bolt. I have to act fast.

It's impulsive, I know, but I'm not sure what else I can do, so I grab his bloodied hand. He flinches, hard, but I don't let go. I can't, too scared he'll slip away again.

"Dazai, you're hurt." Well, that much is obvious. I mentally scold myself. "What happened?"

He probably won't tell me if it's self-inflicted or not, but I need to know what sort of injury it is at least. The blood is spreading in a pattern that suggests a wound less controlled than razor lines. And Dazai doesn't cut himself, as far as I know. He kills himself with neglect.

He opens his mouth, then closes it, then again, then once more. Then he jolts up, trying to twist away. He makes a sound of pain so startling that surprise makes me let go when it should be my instinct to grip him tighter.

Without the support of my arms, he tumbles out of the booth. I rush to help him.

"I'm okay. I'm just a bit out of it because of the weather change, is all." His voice is raspy. He isn't even trying to fool me anymore. I won't complain. His admitting that something at all is wrong is a start.

I'll just do what I always do. Go along with it.

"If you were under the weather you should have let someone know."

"'M fine."

Suppressing a sigh, I try a different tactic. "It only causes everyone more trouble if you wait until you can't stand."

His wince makes me regret the words, but I have to say something to make him see sense.

"I-I'm sorry."

What does he have to be sorry for? I don't have time for that at the moment. He needs medical attention, but knowing him he won't let me bring him anywhere near a hospital. "I hardly care about that now. Come on, I'm going to take you back to the office. Yosano-sensei will treat you."

"No!"

He's hyperventilating, the first sign of a panic attack. Okay. I have to calm him down. What would calm him down?

Jokes!

"Dazai, your bandages are yellow. I will not allow you to let your writing hand rot off simply because you don't want to do paperwork. How am I to get you to do work, then?"

It doesn't work. Or, well, it does, but not the way I intended. He stops hyperventilating but then lapses into silence. "Sorry." He wilts.

We both sit awkwardly on the floor for a moment considering the situation. He has been eating more, lunch at least, but I can tell I'll still be able to lift him, easily. It scares me a bit, but I'm grateful for it now. It is easier to focus on his alarmingly skinny stature than the fact that he is, practically, in my lap.

His quiet voice comes from beside me, "T-the food . . ."

I don't want to ask him to speak up, but he's so quiet and his words are so slurred that I really am having trouble hearing him.

"I'm sorry?"

"The food, we shouldn't waste."

I want to shake him. That's what you care about? But I'm afraid he'll break.

"Of course, let me, uh, just."

He tries to leap away, I think, from my lap, but he just ends up rolling to the side a bit, his hand twisting further.

I hurry to the counter, give our order number, and inform her of the mess we made.

"Yes, it's almost done. Don't worry about the tea. It happens a lot. We'll be happy to pack your food in takeaway boxes for you, sir. But, may I ask why you're leaving so soon? Your order was marked as dine-in, was that incorrect? Was your experience not okay?"

The woman is so sweet, but what do I tell her? No, you're restaurant is lovely my colleague is just a bit suicidal. "Oh, it was fine, ma'am. . . . My partner is just feeling a bit under the weather."

She coos, glancing worriedly behind me, probably at Dazai, who must still be lying on the floor. "Oh my, I see. The noodles should help then. I hope he feels better soon. You two boys take care."

"Thank you, ma'am."

Dazai is indeed still on the floor. I look at him for a moment. There's no way he'll be able to stand long enough to get to the car. Given his state, what would be the most efficient and most dignified way (for both of us) to pick him up?

After looking at his tender hand hanging limply, I go with the cradle carry.

(A/N: The cradle carry is more commonly known as the Bridal or Princess carry, lmao)

"I'm going to pick you up, is that alright?"

He blinks, taking a moment to comprehend the words. He must be more ill than I thought. But, to my relief, he nods.

He's warm in my arms. Not like the warmth of a lover, but feverish warmth.

"Keep these steady, Dazai," I say just to break the silence.

He nods, not objecting to my using him as a shelf for the noodles. In fact, he crunches them as if they're far more important than tea-house takeaway.

The walk to the car feels long and short at the same time. Dazai isn't heavy, not at all, but I'm so worried I'll drop him.

As I lay him across the backseat, he grabs my arm. "No . . . Yosano."

"Dazai, you need a doctor."

He doesn't seem to get it.

"Please."

It's his eyes that get me. They're wide and round with innocence and fear, like a child's, like a stray cat's. He reminds me so much of Yozo that I can't possibly ignore his request. It would feel like abuse.

"Okay. I'll take you to my house, but you're getting first aid either way. I'm not going to watch whatever injury you have fester. Understand?"

The drive takes a bit longer because I'm so careful not to go too fast or hit the brakes too hard. I even avoid steep downhills, given that he wears no safety belt.

He sits up as soon as I park, indicating that he was not asleep as I'd hoped. I shouldn't let my disappointment show. I don't need him apologising for I don't know what, again. So while I fix my face, I carry the noodles in.

Of course, Yozoz makes her escape as I open the door. It made me a bit sad to see her go, but then I knew she'd have to leave eventually, and with the noodles in my hands I was in no position to stop her.

They fit nicely in my mostly empty fridge. I haven't had much time to shop due to my extended hours. This is not ideal at all.

I'm also lacking in bandages. I have plenty for Dazai's wound, but I have no doubt that the ones he wears like a bodysuit need changing and I don't have enough. I never thought he'd be here, at my residence. Oh . . . what am I doing? I'll need to order groceries.

Mourning Yozo's absence, but with new determination, I step outside.

To my surprise, the cat hasn't gone far. She paws at my car door, jumping up to the window. The relief I feel is more than should be warranted, considering she's a feral cat, but I feel it anyway.

"Move, Yozo. I need to open the door."

I don't expect her to, but she obeys. Trotting curiously to the left.

Dazai is even more out of it than before. He's like a child when they somehow make themselves heavier, only it's hardly his fault. Yozo watches me curiously as I carefully handle my colleague. She trails my steps, fascinated by the newcomer.

Once inside, I lay dazai on the counter and wash my hands at the sink. I have to swat soapy water at Yozo to prevent her from licking Dazai's wounded hand. She yowls in response. It's interesting how she acts with him as if he's a fellow cat in danger, not a human. Or maybe she thinks she's human too.

I want to start with the first aid right away, better while he's out of it, but his bandages are the one part of his body he keeps off-limits and I would never cross such a personal boundary.

I'll have to wake him, but I can wait a bit longer.

This is where preparedness comes in handy. I have an ear thermometer I bought but have never used. I take it out now, rubbing it with an alcohol swab and sticking it in Dazai's ear. He twitches but makes no move to stop me.

The device beeps, flashing a yellow 39 C. Not Ideal, but not life-threatening.

Hmm, another dilemma. Medication will help his fever and pain, but he hasn't eaten yet. There's no way anything is making it to his stomach right now, so medication will have to wait.

"Dazai, wake up."

" . . . 'nikida?"

"Yes. How do you feel."

He just shakes his head.

"You're running a mid-grade fever, so that's probably why you feel so poorly. Now, I need to take your bandages off to get to your hand-" He shakes his head before I finish, I can feel him trembling. I'm not sure how much of it is chills and how much is fear at the prospect of revealing what's underneath that he keeps so carefully hidden. "Please, Dazai, your wound is infected. It needs treatment. I won't go above the elbow, I promise. I swear on my Ideals."

He stops trembling, stilling completely, as stiff as a board.

"It's okay?"

An almost imperceptible nod.

There's disposable plastic on the counter, my sleeves are rolled, my hands are washed and protected by latex gloves, and I have everything I could possibly need save for surgical tools, and yet, I don't feel ready. But when am I ready for Dazai Osamu? Since when does it matter if I am or not? I just have to do it.

The bandages are wrapped so tight his hand must be purple underneath. I take the miniature scissors from the kit and begin cutting. The bandages come loose, but I have to peel them away from each other.

"Fuck me." I try not to swear, but the deeper I go, the tighter they're stuck with blood, plasma, and other bodily fluids that result from the inner layers of skin being exposed to the outside world. The bottom most bandages are closer to brown than white.

"M' trying."

"What?" What did he just say? He didn't mean- surely not . . .

"Said m' trying to fuck you, kun-i-ki-da~" His voice is strained with pain and slurred with fever.

Wh- Oh. He's delirious. Of course. As much as the returns of his clownery relive me, this is NOT what I had in mind.

"I'd do it so well, Kuni-kun."

Suddenly I feel as if I'm the one with the fever, the what creeping into my face, hands sweaty.

"Please, go to sleep, Dazai. You're not well."

"That's what the lady at the cafe said too."

"I'm sure."

I focus all my energy on tuning him out. Thankfully there's no smell, which means the infection isn't too bad. I sigh.

On the last layer, I hesitate. The bandages are still opaque enough that I can't see the skin underneath.

Dazai's other hand raises up in a sloppy thumbs up, then falls back down. He's exhausted, but I'm glad for his approval, and that he seems to be back to his silly persona.

I took a formal first aid course in High School, so the rest of the process will be easy, the most tedious part is cleaning until the water runs clear instead of red.

The skin is blistered, if he does have any self-harm scars, I can't see them. I'm not sure if that's a good thing. Some of the blisters have burst but the skin is still pink, not charred or brown. This looks to be a superficial 2nd-degree burn. Thankfully these can be treated at home.

Because this isn't exactly a fresh wound it isn't bleeding and I don't need to cool the burn, since it's at least a day old, which is good because it means I can treat it with less delay.

Given that the wound was covered, I suspect that the infection came mainly from not cooling the wound properly or allowing it to breathe, and the lack of antibiotic ointment, and choking his circulation did no favours. Scolding him would do nothing.

Once the wound is clean, I apply antibiotic cream and begin dressing it. Dazai doesn't flinch, he must be out.

I lean down, examining my work. I almost wish I hadn't done it. A cool bath would've helped his fever and the sweating, but now I don't want to wet the dressing, and he'd never allow anyone to see what's underneath his bandages. (Even if I thought I could handle him naked. As unprofessional as that sounds, I know my limitations.) With all the weeping, perhaps I should change it anyway. I have doubt that he'll do it himself even if he's capable.

I bin my gloves and the plastic sheet and wash my hands perhaps a little harder than necessary.

His fever isn't sustainable either, but I'll let him sleep for now, just to recover from the shock of it all.

Still, he can't sleep on my counter. I lift him as carefully as possible, he doesn't stir. I tell myself not to worry as I set him down on the sofa.

Yozoz climbs my leg, jumping onto Dazai's limp form.

"Off!" I whisper, but she doesn't move.

I have a spare bedroom, but I'm not putting him there until he's had a bath and some fresh clothes. I'll do that as soon as I can.

His face isn't relaxed as he sleeps, he frowns, his nose and eyebrows scrunched, still, I can't deny that he's handsome. And cute with Yozoz lying protectively on his chest, letting him use her to elevate his hand.

He twitches and shifts uncomfortably. He'll need pain medication soon, which means he'll need to eat.

Instead of staring at him, I need to order groceries . . . And I need to call in.

How do I even explain this? Better yet, how do I explain this without betraying Dazai's trust and alerting Yosano-sensei to the fact that he's injured?

I mean, do I even need to? He cuts work all the time . . . or he used to. Yeah, I'd better call.

I swear for the second time today and dial the president directly.

"Fukuzawa-sensei, this is Kunikida."

"Yes, Kunikida, what do you need?"

"Nothing. I was just calling to inform you that Dazai and I are on a private case and we won't be back for a couple of days. You can cut the time from my pay if you like. But I just wanted you to know that nothing is wrong, no one needs to come looking for us."

"Ah, I see. Did you pick up this case during lunch? Will you be reachable in the case of an emergency?"

I look at Dazai. I can't leave him, not like this. "Yes . . . and no."

"Are you out of the city?"

"No."

"Alright. Seeing as your paperwork is complete. I will bother you no longer. But please do call again if you two plan to be on the case for more than a week."

"Of course, sir."

He hangs up. I rest in relief for a moment. Now that that's cleared up there's the matter of my almost empty refrigerator.

Dazai wakes at the sound of the groceries being delivered.

"Huh? Kunikida?"

"I ordered groceries."

I don't think he understands me very well, but I'll only be going to the door, so I don't worry.

Yozoz hisses at the delivery man. I nudge her back, and she gives one final look of utter disapproval before retreating. I tip the man and take the bags inside.

When I come back Dazai has gotten into a halfway upright position, using his uninjured hand to pet Yozo.

"Be careful." The warning is a habit at this point.

"When did Kunikida-kun get a cat?"

I don't let his use of the third person worry me, it wasn't uncommon for him a few months ago."Recently. She was a stray."

"My, how charitable!"

I have to remind myself not to be relieved. He's only acting this way because of the fever.

"Helping the less fortunate when I can is in my Ideals. And right now, that includes you, Dazai."

He gasps theatrically, "Me?"

"Yes, you. You have a fever. You need to take medication. It'll help with the pain as well, but you need to eat first. Now come on."

"My, who knew the prime minister of meeting procedure land would make such a good doctor, and handsome too~"

I can't deal with this right now, him saying all these things. They say fevers make you honest, but he's clearly spouting, pardon me, utter bullshit. "Yes, first aid training is quite useful."

He frowns at my lack of reaction.

I set the groceries on the counter, and go to help him.

"Ahh, I'm so weak Kunikida-kun! I couldn't possibly move! Carry me!"

Ugh. Now that he's more alert, carrying him feels less like a medical necessity and more awkward, without the adrenaline from seeing him so hurt, but I'd take this over him sobbing on the floor any day.

I must admit I've had daydreams about having him in my arms before, but never like this.

He won't be able to handle chopsticks, so it'll have to be broth. I can make a simple one in under thirty minutes. As soon as I finish stocking the refrigerator and cupboards, I turn to find Dazai sitting at the counter. His newly dressed hand is splayed out on the countertop. He lifts it, flexing his finger. He makes no sound, but I've known him long enough to see that he's in pain.

He abhors pain. It doesn't make sense. This must not have been part of a suicide attempt. He'd never do something as painful as burning or boiling alive, so how did it happen?

I don't look at him, not wanting to invade at the moment. Instead, I focus on readying the ingredients for the broth, falling into the rhythm of chopping vegetables.

"How are you feeling? Does it hurt?" I ask, still not looking. If it were anyone else I wouldn't count on a coherent answer, and I don't with Dazai, not really. He would never admit the extent of his pain, but I know he's aware, at least. This man is a cockroach. He's come to work with temperatures like this and higher before and none of us noticed until he passed out dramatically on the sofa.

"It's fine."

"It is" not "I am". A clear lie.

He's as stubborn as an ox, more stubborn than I myself can be at times. I have no choice but to go along. I place the vegetables in the pan with the stock and set the temperature. "Good. You have to eat before you take medication. The broth should be done soon."

He goes silent for a moment, then, "Mmm, Kunikida is so kind, getting all worked up over nothing." His words are soft, a gentle smile, almost . . . reassuring. His voice sends a wave of warmth down my spine.

Still, the sudden return of his demureness is a bit surprising.

"This is not nothing."

"Well you could have simply taken me to hospital, it wasn't necessary to bring me all the way to your home. I'm sure I've caused quite a hassle. I'm not sure how I can repay you for all of this."

"You mentioned before that you dislike hospitals, so I thought-"

"It hardly matters. There was no need for you to trouble yourself, I feel guilty now."

"Don't, you're my partner, it was no trouble at all." The words feel forbidden. It's immature, but my feelings make calling him my partner feel more meaningful than it should. He's so observant, can he see my guilt? Hear my heartbeat?

"That's impossible. I wish I hadn't troubled you at all." He looks down as he says it, picking the his new bandages. He sounds genuine, bitter and upset. Like many of today's events, it doesn't make sense. After all he's done to pester me so far, how can he feel so guilty for this? Or is it something else? Is this for all he's done in the past? That would be ridiculous, but somehow I believe it. Nothing he ever did was that horrible, it's all forgiven now.

"Dazai . . ." I don't know what I should say, what I could say. He doesn't look up anyway.

"I won't trouble you anymore, Kunikida-san." It sounds so . . . final.

"Dazai, it wasn't-"

He's standing before I can stop him. I want to reach out to him, to stop him, but I know I shouldn't touch him much more, I doubt his aversion to contact has changed. Even with all his external polish and warmth, all those smiles, something frozen still resides within him, I know it. At times, I can feel its cold, like a gust of shivering wind, sudden, shocking . . . then gone.

And yet I find myself moving ever closer. Something deep in my gut knows I can't let him leave. I feel that if I do I may never see him again.

He sways, and sways and sways, and then . . . tips.

This time, though, I'm here to catch him. Again, he's too warm in my arms.

"Dazai, stop! You're in no condition to go anywhere. Please, sit, . . . stay. At least until you take medication. Then you can go as you please. But as your partner, it would be an abdication of my duties to allow anything to happen to you." There's that word again. Partner.

He whispers so softly, that I swear I mishear him, but it's quiet enough that I'm sure I don't. "Partner." Then he looks up. "Abdication, such a big word." The words are thoughtful, yet careless. He looks dazed. "Of course, you're just doing your job. Fine, but at least let me pay you."

Is he out of his damn mind? "P-pay me, what, you-?!" No. I can't lose my cool now. This isn't an office shenanigan. But then again . . . perhaps my scolding will be as grounding to him as his clownery is to me (am I the delirious one?)

"This is a favour, you will do no such thing. Now, stop talking nonsense!" I can't make myself call him an idiot, he still looks too fragile for that.

It seems to work, to my relief, he backs down. "Sorry." I don't like the bashful tone, but if it means he'll let me care for him without fighting, I'll take what I can get.

We sit, once again, in silence.

I'm relieved when the broth is done, busying myself with readying the bowl and placing it in front of him.

When I set it down, he looks at me for a long moment, then says a quiet "Thank you." and takes the spoon.

His hand shakes a little.

Right. I was so distracted by his attitude that I forgot a spoon might still be hard for him. What to do? For once, I don't know, there is nothing in my Ideals that tells me how to deal with an injured, delirious, Dazai Osamu in my kitchen.

"W-would you like some help?"

He looks up with wide eyes. Neither of us says anything.

A moment passes, and I can't bear to wait, so I take the spoon from his shaky hand.

He opens his mouth wordlessly and closes it the same.

We repeat the process, still silent, working like a machine, efficient. Both of us, I'm sure, are trying to distance ourselves from the reality of what we are doing. Before I know it the bowl is down to the dregs of vegetables.

Dazai nods once. "Your soup is very delicious, Kunikida-san."

"Thank you." The phrase is brief, almost curt, but I don't know how else to respond. My brain won't form words appropriate for this situation. I turn away, typing the last drops of broth into the plastic bowl the vet sent home for Yozo.

She laps eagerly, while I prepare the correct dosage of medication.

Dazai takes it without a hint of disgust, handing the cup back to me, then pushes himself up. It's too fast and he wobbles. I reach out but then retract my hands. He's not my charge, he's a grown man. He's fine. And he dislikes being touched.

I can't stand to see him go. Who knew I could be so selfish?

"Dazai, wait."

He halts but doesn't turn. His shoulders are tense. I shouldn't keep him longer.

"Just wait a bit. I will call you a taxi cab once the medication takes effect. Just for an hour, rest . . . please."

He turns so slowly I'm worried he's dizzy again, but he seems perfectly steady when he faces me. Then again, he seemed fine until he collapsed in the tea house.

"Alright. Where would you like me to sit?"

Anywhere.

"Wherever you feel most comfortable."

He nods, clearly uncomfortable again. Guilt makes my chest ache, I should let him go. He's made it this far. I'm sure he can handle himself.

"The sofa will be more than fine."

"Okay," I have to leave, I should. I have no business hovering like we're anything more than colleagues. "I'll be in the kitchen, cleaning, if you need anything at all."

"Don't worry. I won't."

I can't make myself stay away.

So here I sit, mere inches away from Dazai. He fell asleep almost as soon as he sat down, despite his insurance on feeling fine.

His breathing is even, but I can see him shivering against the fever. I leave him for a moment, just to get him a blanket.

When I put it over him he still for a moment, then rolls over, still fully asleep and pulls it tight around himself. The trembling stops, and I breathe a sigh of relief. He'll be alright.

But I won't.

Watching him like this feels wrong, a guilty pleasure. This was never meant for me to see. I feel like a pervert, even though watching him like this brings no sexual pleasure, only a warmth in my chest.

I can only stare as his chest rises and falls. His hair fans out over my pillows making them look like they don't belong here, no, not that. They, and he look like they belong, but under his head, they look like something novel even when I've had them for years.

After many hours of fitful tossing and turning, he really stirs. And I've done nothing but watch him this whole time. How much working time have I lost? And why does it not seem to matter at all?

I don't think he meant to sleep so long. It's dark out now, and he'll surely need more medication if he even wishes to attempt a full night's sleep.

I jump up when he twitches, hurrying away, lest he think my intentions are anything other than platonic.

"Kunikida?" He calls out.

"Yes, Dazai," I answer, strolling in like I didn't just bolt from the room. How many times have I lied in the past day?

"Thank you very much for letting me stay, and for the food, both here and at the tea house. You can keep my noodles. I'll catch a cab now."

He's up, standing on shaky legs before I can stop him.

"What?" The words fall out, clumsy and desperate. I hope he doesn't hear it.

He looks at me, appropriately confused. "Did I leave something, Kunikida-kun?"

My saving grace. The one thing I actually did besides watching him sleep."Your coat, it's in the dryer. There was some blood on the cuff, so I washed it." The perfectly reasonable explanation feels awkward.

"Oh, thank you again." He sounds so grateful it makes me uncomfortable.

"Please, don't thank me. You aren't troubling me. Your coat should be done in just a few minutes." I want him to stay longer, "Would you mind if I checked your bandages until then, I heard you tossing in your sleep." A small lie.

"I'm yours."

We both freeze.

"I-I'm sorry?" I sound like I'm choking.

His cheeks reddened, embarrassed that I made something out of that, no doubt. Especially when I've probably said similar things in reference to our partnership.

"I simply meant that you are the expert and are free to do what you want, er, need to."

"Ah, yes."

What do I do now?

Neither of us moves for a moment, like when you get stuck trying to pass someone in a door or corridor and do an awkward little dance. I don't want him to pass me. I don't want him to go.

Then he moves, walking to the counter, and placing his arm on it. I follow him, busying myself with readying the plastic sheeting.

He's in the same position when I come back, but lifts his arm and allows me to put the small section of sheeting under it.

I examine the bandages. I was right. As much as this is to keep him here, they do need changing. The wound is still weeping a lot.

"I'll need to clean and change it again," I tell him, but I think he may have guessed based on the way he eyes his arm.

The experience is completely different now that he's coherent. But he doesn't fight me on the removal of the bandages, I watch his face, his beautiful face, and on cue, he gives his silent permission.

He doesn't flinch as I unwrap it, eyes scanning the wound analytically.

He leans in, so close that I would barely have to lean down to kiss him. I'd never, of course, I could never. But the thought is very much there.

"I have seen far worse, usually I was the cause." He explains.

Right, the mafia.

Here, in this house, I could forget. But, I realise suddenly, that it doesn't matter at all, not when it comes to him.

The process goes so much more quickly this time. I hate that I wish it didn't, but before I know it, my hands are on autopilot, and he's in fresh bandages . . . and ready to go.

Where's he going to go? Surely not the agency dormitories? He doesn't want anyone to know he's injured. Or will he just hole up inside? Or does he have somewhere else? A street corner? I shiver at the thought.

He needs another dosage of medications since it's been so long. He must be in pain, but if he's driving, he should wait to take it until he gets back. I still don't trust him with a whole bottle. But I can send him with enough to get him through the night until tomorrow morning when I see him again. I'd best pick him up and take him here in the morning. Someone might see me and know I lied if I stay too long, and his dormitory isn't exactly sterile. (Maybe he's cleaned it? I've only seen it in glimpses.)

"You should take another dose of medication in about an hour. I'll send you home with a pill, you can pick up another one tomorrow when I change your bandages. It helps with the pain as well. Actually, I should take your temperature before you go. If you're still feverish, I'll drive you."

He nods, then cocks his head. "Come here? I appreciate it, but won't we be at the agency?"

Right, he doesn't know.

I told the President that we'd be out for a couple of days, just because I'd be in charge of caring for the wound since Dazai refused to go to a hospital or Yosano, but maybe that's changed now that he's not feverish.

"I was under the impression that you wanted the injury hidden. You told me you didn't want to go to the hospital or to Yosano, so I told the President that we were out on a case. He won't expect us back." It feels shameful and stupid as I say it now, but I press on. He needs to know. "I was actually wondering where you were going. You can't exactly go to the dorms, and I'd prefer to change your bandages here where I have my supplies . . . Or, of course, I could tell him we finish early if you would rather!"

He's just standing there, frozen. I can't read him.

After a while he says quietly, "You lied to the president?" The words are shocking. Of course, they are, I'm the last person one would expect to do that, I know.

"You seemed highly uncomfortable at the thought of anyone knowing so I . . . I just did."

He looks down. Even without a fever, I can see he still feels that way. "No, no, I won't make you lie further. I'll find a place to stay. An old mafia safe house should do just fine."

"Oh, Dazai, I didn't mean to-"

"You've done so much. I am fine now. I don't need luxury, just a quiet place to sleep." He looks pale.

He's not fine.

And I'm still not ready for him to leave, not ready to be alone with my thoughts.

He sits like a dutiful patient while I fetch his freshly dry coat. I'm not so deceitful as to wet it again.

He takes it, standing up once again.

"Let's do this again sometime, eh, Kunikida-kun?" The statement carries just a trace of his previous humour. His eyes are far away, the deep brown irises glassy.

Just as he reaches the door, I remember. I didn't take his temperature! Or give him the pills! I grab his wrist. He whirls around, startled, looking again like a caught animal. I wish he wouldn't, but I have to admit, what I'm doing is quite creepy.

"Wait. I need to make sure your temperature is down before you go. I don't want someone kidnapping you, eh?" The joke, like most of mine, falls flat.

Something sparks in his eyes . . . and then they go cold.

"Kunikida-san, I understand that you're just doing your job . . . but last I checked it's not your job to stop me from killing myself. Don't pretend to care so much, I am not your poor little charity case!"

Killing- who said anything about suicide? Is he planning to- Now? After he's done all this? Well, now there's no way I can let him go!

It looks like he's also realised his mistake. His eyes are stuck between wide open and narrowed to slits, it's odd. I take advantage of it.

"Dazai, please. I just wish to help."

He says nothing, to my relief, no sour words about my ideals, or my having a saviour complex. (I don't. I'm just ever so foolishly in love.)

I'm afraid that if I step away to get the thermometer, he'll run, so instead, I step forward, placing my hand under his fringe. The contact sends a spark through me, and it occurs to me that I've never really touched him before, a brush of the hand, maybe, and of course carrying him, but never this. He's still warm. Of course, he is. In my haste, I overlooked something important.

I learnt very quickly of Dazai Osamu's inhuman metabolism. It's how he processes all the junk food and alcohol so quickly. The medication must have worn off at least an hour ago. Has he been in pain all this time?

Oh, damn me!

"Dazai, I'm so sorry."

He doesn't look like he's heard me. He sways again . . . and then he's in my arms.

He weighs almost nothing against me, but I can't worry about that now.

"You know, Kunikida-kun?" he mumbles into my chest, "I think I'm still a bit tired from the medication. Maybe I will stay."

"Why did you not tell me?" But the question is more for myself. I know why.

I'm a task-oriented person. I need goals or I'll fall apart, I know this. So I make a list.

Check his temperature.

Make him eat something (somehow).

Give medication.

Attempt a cool bath.

Fresh clothes.

Sleep.

He's completely out. I can feel his breathing, slow and shallow.

Taking his temperature is easy, getting him medicated won't be. I ought to try a cool bath first before he can protest. It will help the most before the medication kicks in. I hate to cross his boundaries like that . . . then again, he seemed to give me permission when he agreed to stay.

Fortunately, I don't have to decide. He wakes when I move him, his breathing shifting into quick gasps. I want to tell him he's okay, but what use would that have?

"I'm going to give you a cool bath. You can keep your undershirt and pants on, but I need to get your temperature down, alright?"

He nods.

Thankfully, this bathroom was designed with two people in mind, so there's plenty of room for him on the counter. He mutters something that includes my name and the words "undress me". I think he's trying to be cheeky, but it falls flatter than any of my jokes ever have.

Getting into the bathtub is easy. He weighs much less than he should. I prop him up, but with the way he flops to the side, like a fish, I can't possibly leave him. He'll drown.

What to do, what to do? I can stay with him a bit, but I need to make more broth so he can take more pills. I'll think about it.

"Hey, you're just going to soak in here for a bit, so your body can cool down. May I wash your hair?" He's sweaty, so I may as well.

He nods, so I do.

The process is like nothing I've ever done. He "hmms" softly and I can feel him slipping into sleep under my touch. I thought that seeing him undressed (or in this case in just his pants) would be hard for me, but it isn't. All I can feel is concern, not pity, I don't see him as below me or anything, he remains my equal and as handsome as ever, but right now he just needs to be taken care of. He is not riddled with scars as I'd thought, but there is one, a large gash along his chest and other various small ones. It's hard to see them, though. In reality, the scars are perfectly visible, but when I look at him I don't see them, just those warm brown eyes.

The bath is working, and he feels much less hot than before. He's more alert as well. If he just stays in a bit longer he might return to a normal temperature, at least temporarily which would help until I can get medication in him, but I still have to cook . . .

"Okay. Here's a towel, you have to get out now."

He shakes his head, confused as if just having woken up. Did he really go to sleep just like that? He used to complain of insomnia. How ill is he?

"Don't wanna." His tone isn't clownish, but tired, so very tired.

"Dazai, I can't- you're not in a complete state of mind, you could hurt yourself."

"What if you could make sure I didn't?"

What's he got up his sleeves now? I make my scepticism clear on my face. "Perhaps, what do you have in mind?"

"I could sing to you . . . like in that movie with the little girl who's really an adult."

"What?" I'm not even going to ask.

"Like this" He hums a note, then another. I don't recognise the melody, but it's pretty.

"Fine. But If you stop, I will come right back in here, so don't try anything."

"Got it, Kunikida-san."

True to his word, he keeps humming as I start in the kitchen. The song is very nice. I'll have to ask him what it is when he feels better.

The broth, a slightly different recipe, to keep things interesting, finishes quickly. All that's left is for it to cool to an edible temperature, and to get Dazai into some clothes.

I'm only 8 centimetres taller than Dazai, so my clothes should fit him well enough. I pull out a pyjama set from the back of my drawer, it was a gag gift from Katai when I went to university, with a little nightcap and all. I leave the cap and take the folded set into the bathroom.

He looks so soft in the matching top and bottom that I can do nothing but stare. He sneezes, snapping me out of the trace. Right, his hair is still a bit wet. The last thing he needs is a cold.

He manages to stand, albeit with most of his weight on me, and follows me to the kitchen.

"Why are you doing this?" He asks as I set down the spoon. I helped him again. He didn't ask me to, even as a joke, and I wasn't sure he would if I didn't just- so I just did it . . . It would appear that, in some way, somehow I'm in this even deeper than I thought.

What can I say? Oh, I could say so much. What can I say that would be professionally acceptable?

"It's my job." AH, if there was an award for shit answers.

He sighs, "AH, right, duty-bound Kunikida-kun. Poor thing." The words are teasing, but I know him better than that.

He makes himself at home in the spare bedroom, out practically as soon as his head hits the pillow. When was the last time he slept in a real bed?

What do I do now? It's not that late, so I can't go to bed, but I can't go back to work, and there's now ay I'd let myself leave. I can't think of anything, so, as always, I stay.

He looks so peaceful, his breathing even, face relaxed. I gave him twice the normal dosage of medication.

Despite his apparent calm I can't help thinking that he should be in my bed. I want to hold him, to keep him warm and safe. I want him to know someone needs him, someone wants him. At first, I wasn't sure this new him even needed that anymore, but his behaviour today . . . I want to wake up and see his smile, a real one. I want to be the reason for it. I want to give him so, so many reasons to smile. And when he can't smile, I want to be there for him.

Looking at him like this, a sudden courage fills me. The courage to put pen to paper. I pull out my notebook and start writing, looking up every so often at Dazai's sleeping face, just to amke sure I phrase this thing I'm feeling right (if there's any way to physically capture it. I'd try even if I knew for sure there wasn't).

When I'm finally pleased, I close the book. It's dark out now. I must have been writing for much longer than I thought. Well, I guess I should get to sleep.

IDEALS [kunikidazai]

(A/N: I've been palying around with ship names for these two and came up with Ideal Human because together these two make one perfectly functioning person. Kind of like how Tachizaki is Midwinter Snow because if their abilities)

SUMMARY:

Dazai Osamu is the farthest possible thing from the ideal woman Kunikida Doppo has written so much about in his notebook.

And yet . . . Kunikida is hoplessly in love with him anyway. Kunikida doesn't belive he has a chance with his coworker, I mean, have you seen the way he flirts with women? Straight as the rulers Kunikida used to use in his maths class.

Dazai meanwhile is also inlove with uptight but still charming coworker. But how can Dazai ever come close to the woman Kunikida has in mind?

Will these two damn idiots figure their shit out or not? God, I hope they do, for all our sanity!

(Summary sponsered by Edogawa Ranpo)

Categories: angst, fluff, getting together

Warnings: N/A

Thank you to @wildroseroguefor inspiring me to write Kunikidazai for the first time. Rose has lots of Kunikida content on her blog, check it out.

#bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd #kunikidazai #kunidazai #Ideal Human #No Longer Ideal #knkdz #kunikidazai fic #kunikidazai fanfiction #kunikidazai fanfic #kunikidazai angst #kunidazai fanfic #kunikidazai fluff #kunidazai fic #kunidazai fanfiction #kunidazai fluff #kunidazai angst

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onlymexsarah · 19 days ago

Text

Burning Flames IV | Eris Vanserra

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Archeron!reader Summary: Since you became High Fae there were only two things that scared you: your deadly power and your attraction toward the male you should hate most after Tamlin, Eris Vanserra. Warnings: mention of smut, Eris Vanserra being Eris Vanserra, my english and probably spelling mistakes since I'm also sick A/n: I apologize for my lateness, but uni is kinda taking all my time away. I was dying with the need to write about this scene, and I hope you'll like it🫶🏻 if you want to be add at the taglist just ask! Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

"Eris is coming to the Winter Solstice celebration at the Hewn City." Rhys informed the Inner Circle while you were discussing alliances for the probable war against Briallyn. "He's shaken by Tamlin catching you two meeting with him," he nodded toward your twin and Cassian. "and wondering if we'll balk from the alliance now that there's the slim chance Tamlin might reveal it. Or decide to sell him out first. We need to remind Eris of our continued commitment, and that he is...important to us. That we have his back."

You heard Cassian snarling with disgust while your sister Feyre echoed the expression.

"So buy him a present," Feyre said, waving a hand. "and tell him we all send our love."

You snorted amused at that. "Don't you have some old, dusty jewels? Give him one of those." You said obvious while you rested your arm on the chair's back..

"He'll want more than that." Rhys said, mouth twiching, and his eyes fell upon Nesta.

Nesta. Rhys wanted to use Nesta to win Eris over. The thought alone made you sick. Why her? Why Rhys thought that Nesta alone could make Eris swung at her feet? He had saved your life, not hers. Actually, he would have let Nesta die if it hadn't been for you and Elain.

But of course, Rhysand couldn't know that. No one knew Eris had saved your life during the war, and strangely enough Eris had never bragged himself nor made any comment.

From what Cassian had said it had seemed that Eris had been interest in flirting with your twin, and you had to admit, he had never tried to flirt with you in any occasion. Actually, he had tried to break your patience. So it did make sense, you supposed. Nesta was the most logical choice.

"You want me to dance with Eris?" asked Nesta caution.

"I want you to seduce him." Rhys' words made your stomach twisting with an unease sensation. You didn't know why you were reacting like that, and you told yourself that it was because you didn't want Nesta close to someone like him. It wasn't because the thought of Eris giving his full attention to someone who wasn't you made you sick. No, you could never want something like that. Someone like him.

"You really think that Nesta's dancing with Eris will solidify his loyalty?" you hadn't meant to make the question sound so...disgusted, but thankfully no one seemed to notice. Actually, most of them echoed your tone.

"I think Eris is our ally, and will expect to dance with a lady of this court at the ball no matter what." Explained Rhys to you, probably mistaking your disgust for worryness. "I won't let Feyre within five feet of him, Mor might kill him, and Amren is more likely to scare him off than win him over, so you, Nesta and Elain are the only options, but from Cassian's report Eris hadn't seem too friendly with you."

Cassian should learn when to shut up, you thought annoyed. Of course Cassian would say that, because Eris had made sure to annoy you at the meeting with Lucien, Vassa and Jurian.

"Was Cassian wrong?" asked Rhys carefully, reading something in your eyes that you quickly hide.

"No." You said with a lazy smile. There was no point in telling them what had happened during the war, probably Eris had already forgotten it too. "He was completely right."

Rhys watched you for few more seconds with his violet eyes that sometime seemed like they could look right inside your soul and read it. You checked your mental shield and found it intact, the fire that you pushed down burned brightly around your mind, protecting it.

***

The black dress you had chosen for the night fell comfortably over your body as you walked down the hall of Hewn City's palace. You had opted for something elegant yet less reveling than Mor's and Feyre's. The straps fell lightly down your shoulders, the bodice had a sweetheart neckline with what looked like black flames over your collarbone. You still had to decide if it was a hint that Rhys knew about your power still lingering in your body, or it was for pure imagine. The flames seemed to fell down your body in a lovely silky gown that captured the lights with each step.

Unfortunately, you now had to wear gloves, because the burned scars had expanded all over your hands, and the gloves was the only way to hide them. Thankfully, since it was winter no one ever questioned them, and tonight you had put some long, black, silky gloves that matched your skirt.

You were currently behind Rhysand and Feyre, between Elain and Nesta as the two of them still were on no speaking term. Tonight was a show of power, with your sister's pregnancy annouce and your twin's beauty offered on a silver plate for the Heir of Autumn.

You had appreaciated how Elain had wanted to come, and it didn't go unnoticed to you that she had opted to wear a plain dress with just two pearls in her hair to not outshine Nesta. Elain had always been the prettiest of the four of you, but tonight it was Nesta's time to shine, and she had gladly disguided herself as plain and boring.

As you entered the throne room every eyes fell on you. Not on you, actually. On your sister's swollen belly. You heard gaspes and whispers all around you. Keir's looked torn between anger and shock, and you had to hide an amused grin.

As your eyes scanned the room with a bored expression, you took you ropportunity to look at the redhead beside Keir, knowing he would be too focus on your sister to notice your staring, but as your eyes fell on the him you found two green pounds already staring at you.

Eris was looking at you. Not at Feyre. Not at Nesta, the one supposed to catch his attention. He was looking only at you, and you hated how your heart skipped a beat.

He looked at you like he could admire you for the first time, and somehow it was true. You both knew that no one would notice your staring at each other, because everyone's attention was on Feyre.

You used every second to drank the sigth of him. Eris was dressed in Night Court black, and you could be damned for how handsomely he was. He looked like the darkest of the dark dreams that someone shouldn't have. That someone be you.

That game was dangerous, you realized. Those stolen glances, stolen moments would lead you only in a dangerous territory. But danger looked so appealing when he let his eyes slowly roam all over your body.

For a moment you felt more naked than Mor and Feyre.

Eris must have noticed the black flames on your dress because he slowly grinned. It wasn's a mocking grin, it wasn't even amused. It was one of Eris' grin that you still had to classify.

His eyes met yours again, and he did the last thing you had expected. He winked at you. He fucking winked.

You felt your cheeks getting warmer and you quickly looked in front of you again, dismissing him as if nothing had happened, and for a moment you wished it hadn't.

As Feyre and Rhysand sat on their thrones, you and your sisters went to stand at the foot of the dais, between Cassian and Azriel who looked like they could kill anyone watching at any of you in a wrong way.

Keir and Eris scuttled forward, and while the former bowed, you pointly avoided to look at the latter. "Allow me to exted my congratulations." said Keir and you knew that he didn't mean a word of it.

"And allow me to extened mine as well," said Eris with a voice that could warm even the coldest spot of the Winter Court. "on behalf of my father and the entire Autumn Court. He shall be thrilled by this news."

Rhysand mouth curled in a cruel half smile, the stars winking iut in his eyes. "I'm sure he will."

Sometime you forgot how powerful and cruel Rhysand could be. He was always gentle and kind with you, with all his family. But the moment that something threated Feyre's life? He become feral, and you were glad for it. You were glad Feyre had found Rhysand.

They gave the crowd some command to make it loose, and when Eris did to follow Keir Rhysand stopped him. "Before you join the merriment, Eris, I'd like to present you with your Solstice gift."

A long black box appeared in his hands, and you tried your best to hide your confusion. Rhysand had never spoken of other gifts beside Nesta, so what was all of this about?

As the box flew to Eris and he opened it you could see the dagger that Nesta had made. You hold your breath as Eris's face went pale. "There's flame in it." He said. "Why give this to me?"

"You're our ally, " Feyre said, a hand resting on her belly. "You face enemies that exist outside of the usual rules of magic. It seemed only fair to give you a weapon that operates outside those rules, too."

You cursed in your mind as Eris understood that the dagger was Made and started to question Rhysand. Eris culd be the monster of everyone's story, but he was no idiot. Actually, you had the suspicious that he might be smarter than he let the other see.

“Ordinarily I would ask you to dance," said Feyre kindly. "but my condition has left me unwell enough that I worry about what so much spinning would do to my stomach.” It was the truth. Feyre had bolted from dinner three nights ago to find the nearest toilet. Now she looked at you and your sisters, as if deciding who would dance with him.

You looked away, not really wanting to see Eris admiring your sister Nesta. You focused your attention on the couples dancing, and you couldn't wait to be among them. You didn't have the same passion as Nesta, but you had always enjoyed it if you had a good partner.

You had asked Morrigan to give you lessons too, just to be able to dance freely with whoever might ask you. It had been fun when you had found Cassian too at Mor's lessons, silently agreeing that you would say nothing about the other.

"One of my oldest sisters shall take my place." you barely heard Feyre's words, knowing she would be gesturing to Nesta, so there would be no point to look away from the musicians.

It was when you heard Nesta stiffining beside you and Elain elbowing you that you looked away and gave the latter a confused look. Elain only inclined her head, pointing to something in front of you.

You furrowed your eyebrow, still confused, and looked where Elain was pointing. Your breath caught in your throat as you found Eris standing in front of you with his hand strechted out.

"If I require right, you are the oldest." He said with that lover's voice that tricked your mind.

You gulped and tried to not let your eyes widining too much as you gave him a nod. "Only by few days."

Why was he not looking at your sister? It was quiet obvious that she was the one planned to be offered to him, the one who looked like a queen. Hadn't Cassian said that Eris had been flirtatious with Nesta? Hadn't Cassian said that Eris seemed to loath you? Then why was he looking like that?

You slowly brought your hand on his, as you had done the day he had saved you, and something about his wicked, sparkling eyes told you he remembered it too.

He brought your hand around his arm, and accompanied you at the center of the dancing floor with a royaly grace. Even throught your gloves you could feel the warmness that his body radiated. A warmness that somehow made your body relax. Hadn't you had asked this to the cauldron? Warm, nice fire? Not the destructive flames that burned inside you.

Eris stopped at the very center of the floor, and you could already feel everyone's gaze on the two of you. What a gossip this would be; one of the High Lady's sisters with the heir of the Autumn Court, dancong at the Winter Solstice.

"Saying that you look gorgeous would be minimalizing." Said Eris as he gently put his free arm around your waist bringing your bodies much closer than they had ever been. "But flames are supposed to be red, not black."

You would have smashed his grin if the violin's hadn't started playing. You put your free hand on his shoulder and rose your chin to meet his eyes, with the fakest, sweetest smile you could master.

You had indeed wanted the dress to be red, because it had always been your favourite colour, but the Night Court's colour was black, and you needed to appear as a unit front.

"I wouldn't want to be mistaken for a member of your beautiful, appealing court." Your tone was soft, not wanting to gain any more stares than what you already had on you, but the sarcasm was there. "I find black perfect for this dress."

You were soo the wrong person to complete the job. Nesta was supposed to seduce him, because Eris didn't rail her up like he did with you. It was impossibile in your mind to even think of being nice with him, let alone flirt.

"What is not perfect is this dance, I'm afraid." he said still with his smirk on his lips. You looked at him confused, and he leaned close to your ear making you hold your breath. "Your High Lord and High Lady look like I have just spilled icy water on them. Aren't you supposed to be the oldest? They seem to think I might eat you in any moment."

His hot breath on your neck made it ashamedly hard to concentrate on what he was saying, and you would never admit to yourself that it was only when he leaned away that you found the capacity to speak again.

"We were all convinced you enjoyed my sister's company more than mine." You managed to say, offering him that truth.

The sound of his dark chuckle was like silk on your skin. His grip on your hadn and waist tightned a little, and you would have ripped his hands away if it would have been any other moment, or any other male.

"And why would I lose time playing with her when I have my perfect match right here?"

Cauldron boils you.

It was a bad, bad, bad, bad thing that you knees almost went weak at his words. It was even worst that your stomach seemed to be dancing its own waltz inside you. It had been so long since someone had touched you like that and hell, no one had ever looked at you like that. Ever.

You told yourself that that was the reason why he was having that effect in you. You had been used to the human's beauty, then you had been too busy to save the world to even notice High Fae's beauty. Eris had just happened to be in the right place at the right time and boom, you were weak on your knees for him.

"Someone might stirr if they heard you calling me your perfect match." You said finding a surprising calm, steady voice. "The future High Lord of the Autumn Court should have no equals."

Something flickered in his eyes as he looked at you with the typical gaze full of secrets. "I have no worries of any equal since you seem so determinated to conceal yourself as a rabbit rather than the dragon that you are."

His words managed to make you shut down every...confusing feeling you had inside and rose your chin a bit higher, watching him with a bored expression. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Is that so?" he slightly tilted his head with the same eyes that a predator used to study its opponent. "Then I take the gloves as the newest fashion in the Night Court? Curious, I don't see many other females wearing them."

He made you do a double spin on your feet before bringing you back against his chest. "I would have thought that a princeling had more important things to think about than the fashion in other Courts." You said coldly.

You hadn't realized that the music had ended until a new dance began and Eris easily led you throught that. It was slower, lighter, but you didn't need to think about the steps; Eris was annoyingly good at leading you.

His eyes darkened a little, as if you had just insulted him. The grip on your hand tightened and you hissed in pain as his fingers pushed into the burned flesh of your palm. "Tell me, it's still about fashion?" He tightened his fingers again and you stepped on his foot angrily.

"Do it again and your father will have to name another heir." you hissed still blinded with pain. Fuck off the whole court him thing; you would have never been good at it nevertless. If Eris wanted to play with you, you would play back.

***

Cauldron boils him.

He was so down bad for you. Never in five hundred years he had met someone who could turn him on just with a glare. And the glare you were giving him was of pure challenge and threat.

He laughed at you. He laughed because it was the only thing he could do. He laughed because the alternative was to see if you would still talk to him like that if he pushed you against a dark corner of the palace, knelt and buried his face under the gown of your dress.

That fucking dress.

You looked like a night Goddess of fire, and the Mother knew how happily he would worship you if given the chance.

But he couldn't. Not until his father was alive. Not until he would be free to let you know the true Eris and let you decide what to do about the bond. Not until you desired him as much as he desired you.

"I would like to see you try without any training." he lightly mocked you, needing to see how far he could push you until you finally gave in and unleashed what you had inside. "But I could make your odds better if you just admit what we both know, Little Flame."

He grinned as he sensed the effect that the name had on you. You face stayed neutral, it was your heartbeat that betrayed you. Eris had to admit it, even if you had just entered the game of scheming, courts and alliances you were doing a great job at it.

"I'm afraid I'm not following you." You said giving the room around you a bored look. He knew you were actually seeing if any of your court was listening to the two of you.

Eris had a vague idea of what would happen if you find out about the bond in the near future. You would be caution about it at first, then after few words with Mor and the Inner Circle you would decide to break it, and why wouldn't you? He was the villain in everyone's story, and he was fine with that. He didn't really plan to change that narrative in your head, yet. But he refused to sit still while you burned yourself in your own power and the Inner Circle did nothing to stop it.

"I could train you." He said suddenly serious. "If you are too ashamed to show your precious family what monstrous power you have, you should have no problem showing it to someone who is already considered a monster."

You arched an eyebrow. "Considered?" you asked ironically. "I recall hearing quiet thrutful stories about you for just considerating what you are."

He didn't pretend to be hurt by your words. He knew exactly what you had heard, what he had done, but obviously you couldn't know the whole true. No one did execpt for one. "Careful to let your new ears believe everything they say about me."

"Because you seem so much more trustfully." You said with a ironic smile that he immediately matched.

"Train with me a day every week, and I'll answer honestly to one question of your choice." He proposed before spunning you on your feet. "Maybe you'll make your own idea of me."

Those beautiful, careful eyes studied him, and he almost knelt right there. "Why would I accept? What do you gain from this?"

His grin widened. "I'm pleased to see that those brutes taught you something useful." He mused. "Let just say I think your power will play a key part to my...succesion on the throne, and I rather have you as my ally than my enemy."

You narrowed your eyes, surely pondering every single word he had said. "I won't do the dirty job for you."

Eris knew you meant killing his father, but of course you couldn't say it out loud since Keir was still around. He admired your quick thinking, and he was extremely glad that you were smart enought to guard yourself around people like himself.

He chuckled lowly. "That is a matter I'll deal with alone." He stated firmly and the fingers on your back lightly caressed you, assuringly. "I just ask for your help when my court will need it."

Eris would never admit out loud that he already know what kind of favour he would need from you. The idea had come up as the two of your were talking, but he knew that if he had proposed it right away you would have left him on the dancing floor without a second thought.

"One day of training everyweek with one question of my choice in exchange of my help, once, when you'll need it with your court?" You carefully stated looking cautionsly in his eyes.

He gave you a grin as he leaned his face closer to yours. "Do we have a bargain, Little Flame?"

He had to call all his hundreds years of training to not close his eyes as your scent hit his nose. It was sweet, like cinnamon and caramel. It was everything he recalled to like, to bring him joy.

He smelled the shift in your scent as your faces were dangerously close, and for the first time he was glad that you were new to this world because otherwise your would have smelled the shift in his scent too. And that, would have bring the two of you in a dangerous situation.

"Yes." you said after a while. He could see that you had thought of every outcome of that bargain, you probably had thought about how to tell the others, what reactions they would have and in how many ways it could end badly. "But you have to stop calling me that."

He laughed. "You should have put it into the conditions of the bargain before you accepted it."

As he said those words he felt something stung on his back. It felt like someone was writing something on his skin with fire. It didn't hurt, it was more like a tickle, and when he saw your hand flying from his shoulder to your back, scracthing the same part on your body that tickled on his, he knew that the bargain had been sealed.

The music ended and he gave you a bow, bringing your gloved hand to his lips. He could smell the burned flash, and a part of him wanted to kill Rhysand to have let you do it to yourself. But he only placed a gently kiss on it, sensing how you, elegantly, shivered and gave you a charming smile.

He studied you for a monent. Your eyes were looking at him with what was not surely kindness, but at the same time was not hatred too. You were trying to find your place in this new, cahotic world, he understood. His eyes traveled on your dress, and his jaw clenched. You would have been a beautiful living flame if it hadn't been concealed with black, somehow a represantion of how you wanted to conceal yourself to fit in that Court.

"Let me begin the training now with a little advise." Eris said still with your hand in his. Your eyes flashed with curious. "Do not follow blindly those who walk in front of you. You might find out that black is not the colout that suits you best."

He didn't wait for you to process his words as he gave you a last, parting smile and turned on his heels, already putting his mask back on. "See you next week, Little Flame." he mocked over his shoulder as he walked away.

He heard you curse him under your breath, and it only made him grin amused. He found it surprisingly fun to rile you up, it was a kind of amusement that he didn't feel with anyone else. He needed it as a reminder that his equal was indeed like him: fierce, smart, witty and always ready to fight when needed.

He walked toward Rhysand and Feyre, still seated on their thrones, already watching him with their calculated eyes. He was sure that they were probably having a mental conversation about what they had seen, and Eris fought the urge to smirk.

"Did you enjoy the company of my sister?" asked Feyre politely with a lazy smile. He had to admit that both her and Rhysand did a great job at acting like the rulers of the Court of Nightmares.

"Your sister's company had been delightful." He said matching her smile. Before asking them what he wanted he was curious to test the waters. "But I'm curious; you showed me what I can have, Rhysand. I'm intrigued enough to ask what you'd want in return."

He saw Feyre's jaw clenching. She would never sold her sister, and surely not to someone like him, but it was still fun to imply just that.

"What do you mean by that?" asked Rhysand not betraying a single thought that was in his mind.

"I mean that whatever you want, I'll give it to you if you promise to keep her safe and away from my father." Eris said suddenly serious.

He saw the confusion flashing on both rulers' face as they surely spoke to each other mind to mind. Eris knew he was letting them see too much, but it was the only way he could be sure that you would be safe as long as his father was alive. They needed to know in what danger you were if his father ever find out what you and Eris were.

"Explain yourself better." Feyre commanded with a cold voice.

He gave her a mocking grin. "You keep your oldest sister away from my father, and train her. and I'll give you whatever you want. You wanted to reassure our alliance? This is the prize."

"I cannot force her in doing anything she doesn't want to, but I can come up with the right arrangment for that." Rhysand said calmly. "But it seems foolish for you to offer me anything I want in exchange for...her safety. Why would you care so much about that?"

He could see that both Rhysand and Feyre were trying to understand what kind of game he was playing, what kind of tricks he had in mind, so he let his mind shield opening a little, inviting them in his head to speak the words that he could not say out loud.

"Because it seems that the Cauldron gave two Archeron sisters to the Night Court, and two to the Autumn Court." Eris said in his mind, knowing that they both were listening.

Feyre's face drained of colours as Rhysand's eyes hardned and his deep, dangerous voice sounded in his mind. "Why should we believe you?"

Eris smirked and let the memory of the day he had saved you fill his mind, letting them see it. He replied the moment the bond stirred inside him, urging him to run toward you. He made them see the exact moment your eyes met and his whole existence screamed the word Mate all over again. He made them see how he had foolishly followed you to the King of Hybern, keeping you safe until you had run to Nesta. He let them see how hard it had been to return to his father and hide eveything, how scared he had been when after the war he had been sat beside his father while you were right in front of him, terrified that any gaze might give him away. The last memory was of when he had found you outside the Autumn Court's camp, and he had been so close to grab you and winnow on the other side of Prythian, not wanting you close to his father in any way.

He stopped the memories just as the one of when you had cured him started to pop in his mind, and watched careful the reaction of the two rulers in front of him. "I cannot risk for the bond to snap for her when my father or any of his allies are close. He would hurt her to hurt me, and despide what you think of me, I won't let it happen."

Rhysand studied him with a heavy, dangerous attention. "I could keep her away from you and have you do anything I want just for the chance to see her, do you realize that?"

A test. Eris knew it was a test, because Rhysand would never do something like that, but still Eris couldn't help but laugh ironically. "It would be the first time you'd do something smart, Rhysand." he tilted his head in a mocking grin.

"You should speak of this matter with Feyre then." Rhysand stated, making a good job at sounding bored. "It's her sister you are mated with."

"I could have your head in any moment if I suspect you to be a danger for her." said Feyre in his head viciously.

"I would like to think that the bond would make your sister miss me a little if you do that." he answered ironically placing a hand on his heart. "But I'll give you everything else you need. After all you are my sister-in-the-cauldron, you might find out you'll have more advantages from this situation than your boring mate."

"Go away before I test that bond theory." threatened him Feyre making his grin grew wider.

taglist: @adventure-awaits13 @blueeclipsepaperstudent @huffleruffplant @azysmate @bia-wayne-west @babypeapoddd @lady-targaryens-world @sourapplex @ghostwritermia @asteria33 @pinklemonade34 @tell-me-a-poem @sourapplex @speedypersonawhispers @historygeekqueen @marly500 @webvics

#eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra fic #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris vanserra x you #autumn court #acotar imagine #acoatr #rhysand #feyre archeron #elain archeron #nesta archeron #azriel #cassian #morrigan

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themoonking · 2 years ago

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the entire robert langdon series is just like “dan brown cannot write. but i’m intrigued and i must know more.” so every time i end up forcing myself to finish his stupid little books.

#like to be clear the prose is mediocre at its best #but the plots like the mysteries are so compelling like you want to know what happens next #they're the perfect fun trash #i do think the character of robert langdon is hilarious #you'd think that he'd stop agreeing to go look at dead bodies arranged with cryptic symbols #you'd think he would never agree to go look at dead bodies in the first place #but disregarding that youd think that after the first time it gets him embroiled in an elaborate hunt #where a secret society is dogging his every step #and his life is in immediate danger #he'd stop going #like babygirl just don't agree??#anyway you read through nearly 600 pages of angels and demons for the dumbest twist known to man #the first twist should have been the only twist we didn't need to twist back around again #anyway the pope's secret child vs jesus christ's secret child - fight #i've only read the first three and so far the da vinci code is the best one? imo #it might be the only one i keep when i eventually do another bookshelf purge #i speak #like before i start reading im dreading it and then while im reading im so invested and then i finish and im back to square one #anyway the lost symbol was so :-/ but ive heard that its the worst one? so hopefully inferno is back to fun trash and not insufferable

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rafeandonlyrafe · 9 months ago

Text

tee time

words: 1.5k

warnings: really really overly fluffy, lots of golf talk that idk if its correct yall im not a golfer, rafe squeezes her butt but its not a sexual fic :), lots of kisses omfgggggg these bitches in LOVE (this is a really boring fic im sorry)

“does this look golf-y enough?” you ask rafe as you pout in the mirror, adjusting your skirt again, feeling like your tennis shoes are out of place when you'd usually be wearing heels or sandals.

“baby, we are just playing for fun. you look cute.” rafe says, glancing at his watch.

“should i do my hair differently? pigtails maybe?” you question, twisting your ponytail around your hand.

“baby…” rafe sighs.

“okay, okay.” you raise your hands up. “im done. sorry.” you giggle as you turn to him, pressing a kiss to his lips, having to bend down to where he's sat on the edge of the bed.

“it's okay, you're excited.” rafe says softly, reaching around you to grab the back of your thighs, fingers moving up to your skirt, squeezing your ass.

“i am excited.” you gleam at him. “me and bianca went to putt putt the other day to practice.”

“you're gonna do great, baby.” rafe gives your ass another squeeze before standing, taking your hand in his and leading you towards the door.

you've been wanting rafe to take you golfing ever since you started your relationship, but usually he'd already have plans with topper or his other country club friends, and you didn't want to intrude.

when rafe offered the other day to let you putt for him, you jumped at the chance.

“im not gonna like, ruin your average right?” you ask as rafe pulls into a parking spot.

“no, baby.” rafe laughs softly. “don't worry.”

“okay.” you smile as he gets out of the truck, rounding it to open the door for you. nobody would ever guess that rafe would be a sweet and caring boyfriend, but he looks at you like you put the stars in the sky, and treats you better than you could have ever imagined.

he takes your hand in his as he leads you towards the golf cart, frowning when he realizes you're squinting in the sunlight.

“stay here.” rafe says, allowing you to sit down on his family cart, his clubs already loaded onto the back.

“okay.” you watch as he goes to the truck, jogging to get back to you as he hands you a pair of sunglasses.

“whose are these?” you ask. they look like your style, but you're certain this isn't a pair you own.

“i saw them one day at the mall and thought you'd like them so i bought them.” rafe shrugs. “figured i could keep them in the truck in case you ever forgot yours.”

“raaaafe.” you coo out, pulling him in for a kiss, which he happily accepts.

“ill let you drive once we get further out on the course.” rafe says, sliding into the driver's seat and turning the cart on before wrapping his arm around your shoulder, willing to drive with just one hand even though it was harder, needing you close to him as you press your side against his.

rafe pulls up to the first tee, waiting for a moment to feel the wind on his face before he turns to look at you, noting the way your ponytail is being blown slightly eastward.

“give me a good luck kiss for this drive, baby.” rafe says.

you pucker your lips and press a smack against his lips before he grabs a club.

you let out a cheer when rafe hits the ball, but honestly you lost sight of it in the air and even if you watched the whole way, you wouldn't have known if it was good or bad.

“yes.” rafe pumps his fist. “need you out here more often, my good luck charm.” rafe climbs back into the golf cart, taking off towards where his ball landed.

“gonna land this on the green for you, baby.” rafe says with a confident smile, and he does indeed get the ball pretty close to the hole.

you're not sure if cheering is generally accepted on the golf course, but you can't help but hype your man up.

“alright.” rafe pulls the cart to a stop near the ball. “it's on you, princess.”

you step out of the cart, looking at your options before grabbing what you assume is the putter, only because it looks similar to clubs used for mini golf.

“if you don't make it the first time, that's okay.” rafe says, removing the flag from the hole. “i won't be mad.”

“mkay.” you look at the distance to the hole, no silly obstacles in the way like there was in your practice.

you give it the ball a tap, frowning with disappointment when it stops rolling only a foot away from the hole.

“that was actually so good!” rafe says, a smile on his face. “just a little more power and it would have been in for sure.”

you nod, taking a breath before lining up your next shot, letting out a scream and jump in the air as the ball falls into the hole.

“that's par, baby!” rafe wraps his arms around your waist, twirling you around.

“oh my god, we crushed that!” you cheer.

rafe sets you down carefully, but not before pressing a kiss against your lips.

“wanna drive us to the next tee?” he asks, laughing when you enthusiastically nod. rafe drives you literally everywhere, so you haven't been behind the wheel of anything in months.

rafe retrieves the ball and places the flag back in the hole before getting into the passenger side, a smile on his face as you stick your tongue barely out between your lips in concentration.

rafe loves the look on your face so much that he insists you drive for the rest of the holes. you're tired by the time you reach the last hole, but don't wanna disappoint rafe by not putting.

“you okay, princess?” rafe asks, running his hand over your ponytail, smoothing it down comfortingly.

“mhm.” you nod, but rafe can see that you're getting sleepy, no doubt ready to go home and take a nap.

“how about we do this putt together, yeah?” he asks.

“yes, please.” you pout out your lower lip, rafe leaning forward to capture it between his teeth, tugging it gently before releasing and kissing you.

rafe stands, moving slowly as you get yourself in position before coming behind you, wrapping his arms around your body to grip onto the stick over your hands. he controls the swing and you watch, your back pressed up against his chest, as it falls into the hole.

“perfect job, baby.” rafe says, snuggling into your shoulder, giving your neck a quick kiss before allowing you to go back to sitting on the cart. you slide over to the passenger seat as rafe returns.

he chuckles gently before driving you back towards the clubhouse, thumb gently stroking against your upper arm as you lean against him, tucked into his side.

“someone is sleepy.” rafe says.

you let out a yawn. “it's not my fault you like to golf early in the day. why can't tee time be after like noon or something?”

“i usually golf at this time because you're still asleep and i don't like to be away from you.” rafe says, parking the cart and leaving it to be put properly away by the workers, needing to get you back home and in bed.

the sun has been covered by clouds, so when you climb back into rafes truck, you take your sunglasses off and place them in the center console for next time you forget yours.

you struggle to keep your eyes open for the short drive back to tanneyhill, not wanting to fall asleep in the truck. you know rafe will drive around aimlessly to not disturb your nap, even if he's tired himself. one time he drove around for an entire night just because he said you looked so peaceful sleeping he couldn't bare to move you.

“home, darling.” rafe says, yours eyes fluttering open, not having gone fully asleep yet but the soothing driving by rafe and hum of the engine had your eyelids drooping.

rafe carries you inside and up the stairs, getting out a pair of pajamas for you to change into despite it being midday.

“how long do you expect me to nap for?” you giggle, changing quickly with the last bit of energy you have left.

you sit down on the bed, knowing you should take your ponytail out and brush through your hair, but your arms don't feel like lifting.

you don't even need to ask rafe before he's moving, carefully taking out your elastic before grabbing the brush off your vanity that he set up in his room not long after you started dating.

he brushes gently through your hair, getting out any tangles that accumulated throughout the golf trip.

you crawl up the bed as rafe changes into a pair of sweatpants, going without a shirt as he sees your eyes closing, struggling to stay awake until he's in next to you.

you snuggle instantly into his chest the second hes underneath the covers, sighing happily when you feel his warmth.

“goodnight, princess.” rafe kisses the top of your head. “i love you.”

with your last waking moment, you manage to mutter those three words back to him.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @sourkittie @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @auryyz @raysmayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut @drewsephrry @1aarii1 @bejeweledreverie @winterrrnight

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keferon · 2 months ago

Note

I should be asleep but this is consuming me.

So have this poorly thought out fic drabble idea of mine:

Prowl is in pain, hurt and agony, physically and emotionally. He shouldn't have let Jazz convince him, he should have listened to that tingly uncertain feeling on his spark about this

But dammit was Jazz so...so convincing. It pained him to realise how much he wanted to trust the organic.

What didn't help was that bastard in front of him giving him mock grief. Prowl knew he did not care at all about how he feels, he knew there was some sort of sick enjoyment to all of this.

"Sorry, he couldn't come visit again. He actually had to help out with the newest mech, in fact, this prototype had one of your own parts in it!" Prowl wanted to sob, twisted asshole.

Suddenly, something seemed to have caught the organic's attention. Prowl didn't hear it at first, but once the man in front of him turned around in confusion, he heard it, there was some sort of commotion on the other side of the door.

Suddenly, before any of them could question what was going on, the doors burst out open with an explosion, causing many tools to clatter to the ground as the ground shook.

"GET AWAY FROM MY PARTNER!" Prowl, in a weak yet desperate attempt, turned his head to look at the direction of the voice. He recognised it-

"Jazz?" He spoke weakly. That seemed to have crushed the organic's soul, his face crumbling from his previous rage, before, in a blink of an eye, it turned back to fury. Fury so strong it could kill whoever dared look.

"Jazz?!" The twisted man standing in front of Prowl's face looked offended if not straight out annoyed at the other's presence. "What are you-?" He couldn't even finish his sentence before the other dropped whatever it was he had been holding and jumped on top of him. The two fought for a while, Jazz punching the guy a few times on the face before grabbing him by the neck of his shirt and throwing him to the other side of the room.

Jazz huffed, making sure to keep his eyes on his target for a second to see if that was enough to have knocked him out. It was. And once he was sure the guy wouldn't come back at him, he turned to look at Prowl, who so far, has only made move to watch the whole thing go down.

It took a while for the mech to properly process how Jazz looked, how he looked at him. Guilt, pain, sadness, exasperation even. It almost seemed like he was...crying?

"Prowl!" His partner? Ex-partner? (He wasn't sure anymore), ran to grasp his face, and he let him, to weak to fight back like he wanted to. Then he felt it, small droplets of water fall down his faceplates, 'Oh, so he was crying'. "I'm so sorry, i shouldn't have brought you here- we, we need to get you out-" as he moved, Prowl took notice of how dishevelled the other looked, the sudden smell of iron making him realise that he seemed to be covered in blood, if it was his own or not, Prowl wasn't sure, perhaps it was both. Taking a closer look, he started to notice all the small bruises and scratches on Jazz's face, in fact he took notice of a limp on his left leg too.

The other just seemed to be mumbling to himself as he tried to free Prowl, who so far has not spoken all that much, he felt too weak and tired, and he really had nothing to say other than a simple reply to what Jazz said before but he didn’t process it till now

"You really shouldn't have..."

---

Ok that's all i have rn, bc I'm not much of a writer and idk how to write these characters so they might be a bit OOC sorry ^^;;

But feel free to like add and/or fix anything to this.

Just wanna add the note that maybe, the reason Jazz found out is bc he recognised Prowl's plating on the new mech thing they built ;)

OH MY GOD I CANT EVEN

RAAAAHHHHHHHHHH THIS IS. OH FUCK. THI s. SO GOOD AND PAINFUL IM ASCENDING TO SOME NEW UNDISCOVERED DIMENSIONS

ALSO. oh my fucking god you have galaxy brain for this. imagine the horror Jazz feels when he sees this random new robot his boss wants to test. And it’s plating is so freaking familiar. He runs his hands along the panels. And he recognises them, even repainted. Because he spent so much time sitting on them, repairing them, crawling on them with his magnets. Sleeping on them even. He sees the “scar” from the time he helped Prowl to fix his armor and welded some cracks in it.

And now the fucking plates are here but Prowl isn’t.

#mecha pilot jazz au

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frantic-fiction · 10 months ago

Text

Tension 18+

Pic: littlelovelore

Astarion x f!reader

Summary: During a solo mission, Astarion takes the opportunity to indulge in some "depraved carnal lust".

Warnings: 18+ MDNI Slight enemies to lovers, sex bent over a desk, sex with clothes on, mild choking, rough sex, reader handles her crush like a fifth grader (by being mean) Astarion is his smug self

Word Count: 3.2k

Masterlist

Back-to-back posts brought to you by Bree's insomnia...Enjoy!

"Do you want me to do it?" Astarion smugly asks, flicking his wrist sharply, sending a dagger into the wood beam before him. He's leaning against the cracked wall of the tunnel. A condescending smile stretches across his pale lips.

"Shut the fuck up!" You snap, twisting the lockpick violently, it's stuck on something, and it is pissing you off.

"My my, someone's testy today." The Vampire pushes off the wall to retrieve his dagger, only for you to hear the same thud of the knife hitting the abused beam once again.

You clench your jaw, wanting nothing more than to drown the bastard in the small stream of gray water. See him try to be a smartass when he's choking on sewage.

No! Just breathe.

As soon as you get this damn door open, all you need is to grab the stolen lease for the damn butcher, and the party will have a nice payout. Then Astarion's snarky comments and teasing jabs can be ignored behind a glass of ale and a nice meal.

Well, if you don't kill him first.

The relationship between you and the Vampire is a complex one, to say the least. Astarion is an arrogant, pompous dick. You're a temperamental stubborn asshole. It made for a messy mix of harsh insults and constant attempts to belittle the other.

It would have been so easy to hate him completely, but Astarion can be sweet under the cloak of night, and you could almost pretend he's a tolerable person when he speaks those honey-coated words. And when you let him feed from you, everything became so much more complicated.

The pick snaps, and you drop your head, groaning in frustration. You stand up and kick hard against a crate; the decayed wood breaks against your boot. Sighing in defeat, you motion to the rogue.

Astarion laughs smoothly, tucking the knife away, and exchanges it for his thieves' tools. Giving you a wink, he bends down to examine the lock. You pretend not to admire the swell of his ass, but who are you kidding Astarion is extremely attractive.

With little to no fanfare, the lock turns over, and Astarion opens the door. "After you."

"I fucking hate you." You grumble, pushing past, making a point to shove your shoulder hard into the rouge.

"Keep telling yourself that Darling,"

You flip him off.

The sewer system is a winding path of tunnels leading to various places. The two of you walk in silence for a few minutes.

"Are you sure we are going the right way?" Astarion asks, breaking the peace.

"Of course, this is the right way." You hiss, glaring over your shoulder. "I can read a map."

"Just like you could pick a lock, yes?"

You don't think you've ever seen a more punchable face. You're almost tempted to smack him just to see his reaction. Instead, you practice a semblance of self-control and ignore him.

After a few more turns, you hit a dead end. It's nothing but a damp brick wall. Scanning the map, you're sure you followed all the proper steps; there should be an entrance. Stowing the stupid paper away, you begin feeling the brick for any invisible button, unwilling to admit defeat in front of Astarion. All hideouts have secret levers. Right?

"Well, sweetheart, I think you've gotten us lost."

"No, I didn't, jackass, now be useful for once and help me." You bend down and begin trailing your fingertips against the rough bricks near the floor.

"I don't think I will. I'm quite enjoying the view from here."

You look back towards the rogue, "What are you talking about–" you choke on your words.

Astarion is shamelessly eyeing your form. A fang tugs at his bottom lip, hunger darkening his eyes. You swallow hard, and a flame ignites low in your stomach. You have a sudden urge to press him against the wall. That thought startles you. This is Astarion. The obnoxious, arrogant, attractive–no, stop that. You stand up and shake your head, willing your thoughts to clear.

"You're ridiculous," you sigh and dig through your bag.

Retrieving the knock scroll, Gale scribed for you. Repeating the steps he told you to do, you mumbled the incantation, and soon enough, what was once a solid brick wall cracked open to reveal a hidden path.

"Told you I knew where I was going," you boast, sticking your tongue out childishly.

Astarion smirks, "Yes, a broken clock is right twice a day."

Scoffing, you shove him hard, causing him to take a few steps to correct his footing. The entrance leads to a broken-down ladder and a worn wooden hatch. Astarion steps up to pick the lock and lifts the hatch barely to survey the room. He pushes the trapdoor open and enters.

Following suit, you find yourself in a dusty broom closet. Astarion is already at the door to the hallway, a sliver of light pouring through the crack. Closing the trapdoor, you cross your arms and wait for Astarion to turn back to you.

"It's abandoned."

"Are you sure?"

Scoffing, Astarion doesn't answer. He pushes the door open and begins down the hall. You follow after him.

The small hideout is plainly decorated, the common room has a dingy sofa and a coffee table. The fireplace is dead; not even embers remain. Good. In the corner, there looks to be an unfinished game of cards. The faded carpet runner leads down the hall to a large ornate door.

Astarion is already opening the door by the time you reach him. By the looks of it, this is the boss's office. A large oak desk sat in the middle room. A plush chair pulled slightly away as if someone hadn't bothered to move it back. Bookshelves line the back wall.

"Secure the door," you say as you move to the window to the left of the door. You hear Astarion mumble something but don't quite catch his words.

The window is a short drop good for a quick escape if needed.

You move to the desk and begin rifling through the papers on the desk. Tax documents, random notes, crappy doodles, and a cringey love letter, but not what you're looking for. You rip open the first drawer. Nothing. Second drawer. Nothing. Third, nothing.

"Astarion, did you find anything?"

"Nothing important." His sultry voice is deep and so very close to your ear.

Your heart drops, but you suppress any other signs of distress, knowing that is exactly what he's looking for. Sighing In annoyance, you turn around to face Astarion and cross your arms over your chest.

"Are you even trying to look for the damn paper? We need to get what we're here for and get the fuck out!"

Astarion's mouth cracks into a cheeky grin, and he closes in on you. You back against the desk instinctually, reaching a hand up that lands on his firm chest. Astarion has you caged against the desk, each hand on either side of your hips. You know Astarion can hear the thrumming of your heart and the shaky inhalation of your breath, and you curse your body for betraying you.

He bends his head down to press his mouth against your ear. "What if I'm looking for something else?"

You freeze. What did he mea–

The thought is forgotten because he's slamming his lips onto yours. You gasp in surprise, and Astarion wastes no time, delving his tongue into your mouth and claiming it as his.

The slight metallic taste of blood that lingers on his tongue should repulse you but has you moaning desperately for more. You grip your fist tightly into the fabric of Astarion's armor. His body is flush against yours, but you need more. You scratch your nails up his neck and tangle your fingers into his hair. Astarion groans into your mouth, biting at your bottom lip.

Everything is hazy, and you're lost in the kiss. Your thoughts are slow to catch up with the situation, too consumed by the taste of his lips. Astarion's lips. Astarion.

You push him away, chest heaving in rapid breaths. "What are you doing?"

"I'd hope my intentions would be obvious by now." He grins and dives back to kiss down your neck, dragging his teeth against your skin. "I could be more obvious if that would clear things up."

A sharp bite of his mouth at your throat drags a choked gargle from your swollen lips. You feel dizzy from the scent of rosemary and bergamot invading your nose. Lightheaded from the sudden turn of events. Astarion presses a knee between your legs, applying firm pressure against your burning arousal.

Gods, what was he doing to you?

Needing to gain any form of control, you tug sharply at the roots of his silver curls, drawing a hiss from the man.

You finally manage to gasp out, "We hate each other." As if that would somehow clear up your raging thoughts.

Except, could you hate someone who is making you feel so good?

Cold fingers trail against the skin between your leather armor and trousers. Astarion's deft hands start pulling at the lace of your pants. Another wave of arousal warms your body, and you feel drunk on the pale elf.

"You say that, yet I don't think you want me to stop." He purrs, halting his movements, and meets your eyes. "Do you want me to stop?"

You shake your head, desperate for more. Your dignity couldn't live with letting Astarion reduce you to a begging mess. However, if you were honest with yourself, you're already halfway there. Reaching out, you grab for his belt.

Astarion was having none of that. He's quick to twirl you around and press your torso flush against the top of the desk. A stack of paper flies off and scatters to the ground, but neither of you put much care into it. Astarion grinds his front roughly against your ass, and you moan at the feeling of his hardening cock against you.

"No, no, no, my dear, use your words."

"Gods, are you always so fucking annoying?" You whine pressing back and rolling your ass against him. Astarion grunts, gripping your hips tightly. "Are you going to fuck me, or should I just take care of myself?"

Astarion groans, rocking against each roll of your hips. "There's my spitfire."

"I'm not yours."

Astarion tugs at your pants and underwear, pulling them over your rear and letting them pool around your ankles. You kick off your boots and free yourself, leaving your lower half bare to the open air. A shiver rushes up your spine as the cold air hits your dripping heat.

Astarion's slim fingers trail down your folds, and you bite your lips to stifle a cry. Tilting your head back, you see the rogue admiring the slick coating his fingers.

"You might not be mine, darling." Astarion slips his drenched fingers into his mouth, and you watch, mouth agape, as he swirls his tongue to clean each digit. "But who else has seen you bent over a desk looking as desperate and delicious as you do now?"

"I could name a few," you say cheekily, earning you a smack on the flesh of your backside.

Astarion gropes the reddened skin and bends down, blanketing you with his body. You feel the soft pants of his breath cascade over your neck as Astarion brings his lips to your ear.

"Then it seems I'm just going to have to ruin you for anyone else." Astarion practically growls and licks along the shell of your ear before taking the lobe in between his mouth and teasing it with his teeth. You don't recall hearing Astarion unclasp his belt, but when you feel his bare cock rub against your back, all you can do is arch your back and moan.

"Astarion," you part your legs more in silent invitation.

"Yes, my dear," His voice is smug as he rocks against you. He knows what you want but wants to hear you say it.

The head of his cock parts your folds and moves to tease your desperate clit; a collective moan fills the room, but it is not enough for either of you. And knowing that the two of you are currently in the middle of dangerous territory means there is no time to play.

"Stop being a prick and fuck me."

"Have I ever told you, you always have such a way with words." Astarion chuckles before plunging deep into your cunt.

A shaky cry leaves your lips, all air seemingly ripped from your lungs. Astarion is bigger than most men you've slept with prior - though you wouldn't dare voice that out loud in case it inflates his already-inflated ego. The stretch holds a delicious sting, and you feel the beginning of the burn of tears at the corner of your eyes.

Astarion's still his hips for a moment, letting you collect yourself. His thumbs are rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back and peppering kisses across your neck. Once the sting of his initial entrance simmers to a stirring heat, you tell him to move.

"Hells you're so tight." Astarion groans as he sets a teasing pace, dragging the rugged ridges of his cock out before plunging back in at the same agonizing pace.

A pace you could imagine sharing intimately with Astarion all night somewhere secluded. Perhaps your tent or an isolated clearing, not a random gang's currently empty hideout. And since you're not one to play nice, you decide to play with fire instead.

Pushing up on your elbows, you move your head to look back at Astarion, a playful smirk on your lips. "You say you're going to ruin me, but I think Gale could be doing a better job of it right now."

Astarion's body freezes just as you hoped he would react. He shoots you a look full of daggers and bares his teeth in annoyance. Without comprehending entirely what's happening, Astarion pulls out of you and, with a strength you have not seen from the Vampire (the same Vampire who asks others on multiple occasions to carry his pack because it's too heavy), flips you over and has you seated firmly back on the desk leaving you dizzy but feeling giddy as a schoolgirl.

"Oh darling, you're going to regret that."

Astarion rams back into your pussy and begins to thrust quick and brutally deep into your body. His cold hand is wrapped around your throat, holding it firmly enough to keep your eyes locked onto him.

Your legs link around his lean hips, pulling him deeper into you. Moaning desperately, you run one of your hands up under his leather armor, splaying it across his stomach. You grab his face and pull him into a kiss, all tongue and teeth and perfection.

The desk is groaning under the movement of your bodies. Random knick-knacks are clanging to the floor. A bottle of whiskey shatters, and the pungent aroma wafts into the air, mingling with the scent of sweat and slick.

"You and that mouth of yours." He breathes deep into your ear. "Always so confident, so snarky, so bratty."

"M-more…" you choke, clenching around his length, desperate for anything and everything he will give you.

"Do you think the wizard could handle you?" The hand not firmly holding your neck snakes between your legs and begins to play with your clit.

"Gods A-star.." You gasp, eyes rolling back.

"Could he or anyone else make you feel this good?" Astarion's hand tightens slightly against your neck, and the lack of oxygen leaves you feeling dizzy and euphoric.

"N-no…please."

"After me, no one will ever be able to satisfy you." His thumb is now rubbing fast, tight circles against your clit. "Fuck, that's it, squeeze me just like that."

Gripping onto the desk, you shift your hips, and Astarion is now hitting deeper into your abused cunt. You tighten your legs around his waist, urging him to go faster. That delicious coil is beginning to burn deep in your stomach, and you know you won't last much longer.

"Tell me, who's making you feel this good," Astarion demands, voice husky.

"Y-you,"

"And when you come on my cock, I want you to scream my name." He grunts, and the thrust of his hips is beginning to become sloppier. "I want to hear just how good I make you feel."

Everything is too much. Astarion's sinful words, the harsh thrust of his hips combined with the tight circles of his thumb on your clit, the musky smell of Astarion's sweat mingling with yours, and the intense fragrance of the spilled whiskey.

You don't remember the details, just the wave of euphoria as the coil snaps and your orgasm washes over you. The words that spill from your lips hold no meaning in your clouded mind. The only thing that holds context is the feeling of Astarion stuttering thrusts of his hips as he chases his release from your spent body.

And when he stills, and the world falls silent apart for your combined pants of breath, all you do is brush the curls off his forehead and kiss his cheek. Why? You're not sure, but that's something you'll ask yourself later.

Once you return to relatively normal breathing, Astarion moves from his slumped position against your body. He stares at you in astonishment.

"Well, that happened." You offer because what else were you supposed to say?

Astarion breaks out into a genuine laugh, full belly and joyful as he tucks himself away. You couldn't help but join in as you move to put your clothes on.

"Yes, my sweet, I suppose that did happen."

"So where-"

The two of you jump at a commotion coming from the hall. Someone is jingling the doorknob, trying to open it; when it doesn't budge, there is a loud bang followed by an even louder shout of anger.

"Fuck!" You quickly finish tying your boots and collect your gear.

"Seems like our friends are back from their trip. I believe it's time to go." Astarion says as he moves to the window and opens it. Without waiting for you to respond, he gives you a devilish smirk and jumps out.

"Shit, the paper." You sigh, knowing you'll never hear the end of it.

By the time you make it to the window, the door is being busted in, and a very angry-looking dwarf is storming into the room. You smile at him and give him a salute before diving out the window, knowing Astarion will be there to catch you.

***Later at camp***

"What do you mean you didn't get the document?" Gale yells, the others equally baffled by you and Astarion's failure. "That was the only thing you needed to get!"

You shrink in on yourself looking to Astarion for help. "I...I don"

Astarion rolls his eyes. "Stealing objects from heavily populated hideouts is harder than you might think, wizard."

"That's why we sent you two!"

"Then perhaps next time-"

"HOLY SHIT!" Karlach interrupts, drawing everyone's attention. She's pointing straight at you with a look of bafflement. "Soldier's got a fucking hickey."

You clamp a hand over the spot Astarion was biting at earlier, wishing for the ground to swallow you whole.

Shadowheart's face scrunches up in disgust. "Please don't tell me, we're not getting paid because you two idiots decided to fuck?"

"Darling, it would seem the cat's out of the bag." The bastard has the audacity to look proud.

"I hate you all." You groan and storm off to your tent, contemplating just how bad it would be to join the Absolute.

Feedback always makes my day so let me know what you guys thought. And if you're looking for something sweet to balance out the spice check out my last post right here.

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flowerandblood · 4 months ago

Text

The Lost Haven (16/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece •female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, sex content, dirty talk, smut, the angst, murder, character death, miscarriage and the trauma associated with it, panic attack, mafia stuff, brutal violence, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn’t let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father’s mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra’s husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin’s brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She was pregnant.

Although, according to all moral and social norms, she should have been crying in despair, she was happy: touching her belly with her hand, she felt nothing but love for this little being that was slowly growing inside her.

The fruit of their warm, deep, sincere affection.

The knowledge that she was not alone helped her when it was time for her to meet the staff for whom she was to be responsible from now on. Aemond insisted on being with her, fearing for some reason for her and the baby, she, however, knew that this was something she had to do alone.

Their stares when she walked into the VIP room in which she had ordered the meeting told her everything – grown men and women who looked as if they had seen far too much in their lives watched her in disbelief.

She knew they thought with disapproval that she was just a little girl, a whore who had been given this place as a gift by their boss that she wouldn't know what to do with, pestering them with her stupid bullshit.

She sat down in one of the empty armchairs, a few people lit cigarettes and grunted, other than that, complete silence all around her.

"I know what you're thinking and you're right. The fact that I have taken over these premises is a form of security for me. In true, not only for me, but also for you. Aemond will stop the flow of drugs through these and two other places that used to belong to my father. I have no intention of changing managers or leadership, quite the contrary – I want to talk to you about what you need. I want this to be a clean, legitimate business that is profitable. No drastic changes." She said, looking at them expectantly, feeling her heart pounding like crazy.

A few people twisted in their seats, others looked at each other.

Silence.

Obviously they didn't trust her.

"Think whatever you want about me. It doesn't matter. Know, however, that my stepfather no longer threatens you, and Aemond will still protect this place. All I ask for is loyalty. If there is a problem with something, come to me with it, not to my uncle, or he will be furious. Now get back to work, I want to stay with the manager." She said calmly.

All but one man who could easily be her father got up from their seats and walked out, leaving them alone.

"This is not a toy you can just pick up and have." He said finally, firing up the lighter, leaning over the flame with his cigarette.

"I don't see it as a toy. We can all gain something if we accept each other. Would you rather keep wallowing in this shit and selling ecstasy to young kids? Don't you have children of your own?" She asked coolly, and the man snorted under his breath, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smirk.

"I do. Three. Two sons and a daughter. Each of them works here. The sons as security guards and the daughter behind the bar." He said dryly and she swallowed hard, feeling the cold sweat on her back.

Fuck.

Had she just insulted him?

"You let your own kids do drugs? Do you want them to be arrested with you if the police come by here, as part of family integration?" She asked, and he sighed heavily, taking a loud drag on his cigarette.

"I didn't say that." He replied, letting the smoke out through his mouth.

"And I don't want that either. Help me protect you." She insisted, and he looked at her finally, as if he had made up his mind.

"You're just like your father."

She exhaled loudly, in an involuntary reflex she'd been holding back for the last few hours touching her lower abdomen as soon as the car door closed behind her.

"And how was it? Everything okay?" Her uncle asked, immediately grasping her hand in his, looking at her expectantly, tense.

"They are difficult people. Difficult, but tired. They don't want problems. They get used to it." She said quietly, exhausted and sleepy.

She looked at him, a worry in his eyes but also a tenderness from which she felt warm in her heart.

"Take me home."

The road to the sea was getting terribly long, perhaps because once in a while she felt an unpleasant twinge in her stomach, indicative of what was about to happen.

"– no – no, stop the car, stop the car –" She muttered, and he immediately pulled over to the side of the road – she only managed to open the door before she vomited on the grass, panting heavily.

"– oh, baby – why don't you lie down in the back seat? – you'll be more comfortable –" She heard his voice, his broad hand stroking her back.

Ever since they'd found out they were going to be parents he'd been so tender, so good, so sweet.

Exactly like he had been back then.

"– okay –" She mumbled and swallowed hard, wiping her mouth with her handkerchief. She unbuckled her seatbelt, climbed out and opened the door in the back, laying down on both passenger seats, closing her eyes.

"– sleep, little one – I'll drive slowly – we're not in any hurry –" He said, looking at her in the rear view mirror, and she nodded.

She flinched when she felt the car finally stop – she heard someone open the door, the fresh air and his familiar hands enveloped her, lifting her up, and she clung to him like a small child. He carried her into the house, to a room that belonged to him, where they had set up their makeshift bedroom for the time of renovation.

She felt him lay her gently on the bed, taking his place beside her a moment later, embracing her from behind.

"– you're tiring your mummy terribly –" He whispered, stroking her belly with lazy, calm motions of his hand. "– you need to let her rest –"

She smiled, allowing herself to fall asleep again, this time in his embrace. Her uncle often addressed their child as if the baby could already understand him – he was making a connection this way, realising that he was really going to become a father.

He was involved in everything about preparing for the arrival of their child into the world – they decided to dedicate the room she slept in that summer holiday to their future offspring and repainted it together, sticking cute glow-in-the-dark stickers on the walls in the shape of various planets and stars.

With some things, they had to wait because they didn't know if the baby was going to be a boy or a girl.

"It cost me a lot of money, but I made it. I have written permission from the Archbishop. Rhaenys, we can marry." He said to her one morning, holding a piece of paper in front of him that was to change their lives.

A dispensation for a church wedding.

"We need witnesses." She muttered, gripping his hand in hers. Her uncle nodded, as if he knew she'd said it.

"I know, Helaena agreed. I didn't want to decide about another person for you." He said, and she smiled, feeling grateful.

He became more open, more affectionate, always thinking of her and her needs too.

She knew who she wanted by her side.

"I know I'm asking a lot and that I'm not entitled to it. I know your father will be furious if you say yes, but… you have always been close to my heart. You didn't judge me. I wish I had you with me on this day." She mouthed in a breaking voice, standing alone in the bathroom with her phone pressed to her ear, wiping her face wet with tears.

She heard Baela swallow hard, shocked by her words.

For a long moment, they were both silent.

"– I – God – I've always felt you were in pain – only now I know why and I'm sorry you've been alone with this for so long – I don't want you to not have your bridesmaid on your wedding day – just tell me when and where –" She muttered and she burst out into a quiet sob, feeling relieved.

"– forgive me – forgive me for being such a disgusting person –" She choked out, whooping, feeling that she had finally described herself truly.

She had fucked her own uncle and was going to have a baby with him.

She was sick.

Baela drew in a loud breath.

"– stop – if he was your own birth brother, it would be much, much worse – on the positive side, he's actually only half your uncle –" She said, and for some reason she burst out laughing.

God.

"– right – it's a good thing I didn't choose Jace –" She mumbled, and Baela snorted.

"– exactly – let's stick to that –" She said.

"– it would be funny if the police burst into the church and arrested us –" She sneered, fiddling with the soft towel hanging on the rack, imagining commandos with guns ordering them to fall to the ground.

"– for what? – for drug dealing or for incest? –" Baela scoffed, and she giggled under her breath.

"– for everything – the list of crimes is long –" She said with a smile, for some reason feeling lighter.

It was the first time she had ever talked to someone about it completely honestly.

She shuddered when she heard a loud knock on the door.

"Rhaenys? Are you all right?" She heard his concerned voice.

Ever since he had found her in the bath then, he had been afraid if she stayed in the bathroom too long.

"Yes. I'm talking to Baela. She agreed." She called out to him.

"That's great." He said with sincere relief, as if he was afraid she would suffer another disappointment and rejection from her family.

They hadn't planned to invite any guests to the event, have a dinner together or anything of the sort – they knew that most of their family felt there was nothing to celebrate, and for them, as it wasn't a state wedding, it only had symbolic significance.

Helaena helped her choose the right dress – she wanted to look special that day, because even though their nuptials were going to be bittersweet, she was, in the eyes of God, going to be his wife.

"– oh – look – this one is lovely –" Helaena hummed, taking from the rack a long, white gown with a cut-out back and lace at the neckline and the ends of the delicate, long sleeves.

"– you're right – it would match the flowers in my hair –" She said, in her perfect image of herself that day wishing she had daisies woven into her curls.

Helaena dropped her off in the car at a shop near their house and they said their goodbyes – she needed nothing so much as a walk and some fresh air, however, she wanted to cook them dinner too, knowing that her fiancé would be back late.

Since he had started telling her about his affairs, what he needed to do and where he needed to go, she felt calmer and his absence no longer frightened her so much.

Besides, he wasn't leaving her alone anymore, she thought, touching her stomach happily, looking curiously at the shelves full of different kinds of pasta, searching for the perfect one for spaghetti.

She shuddered, having the feeling that someone had rubbed against her by accident, but then she felt that person holding something against her back.

"Be quiet and leave the shop slowly." She heard a cold, unfamiliar voice behind her and froze, feeling her heart leap up into her throat, a cold sweat on her back.

She looked to the side, wondering if she should scream, if anyone would help her, not knowing if this man held a gun or a knife against her body.

"Don't try anything or I'll butcher you like a pig." He said, as if he was reading her mind, and she swallowed hard, feeling burning tears of terror under her eyelids, her body involuntarily began to tremble.

She simply moved towards the exit, and the man she was afraid to look at put his arm around her like he was her boyfriend, clamping his hand firmly on her waist to make sure she didn't try to escape.

As soon as they left she sprang up to throw herself into a run, but the man grabbed her waist and clamped his hand over her mouth – she bit him with a loud squeal, but he only hissed, not letting her go, hiding behind the wall of the shop, two other men got out of the car.

One of them, a blond man with a beard and blue eyes had a scars on his left cheek.

"– come on, what the fuck are you waiting for – faster –" Tyland Lannister growled, and the man who was clearly his bodyguard forced her to bow her head and forcibly shoved her into the back seat, closing the door behind her.

She burst out crying, curling up as Tyland sat down next to her and the two men took their seats in front, driving away with a squeal of tyres.

"– shut the fuck up – be a good girl and no harm will come to you – I need to clear up a few things with your uncle –" He said lightly – only when she looked at him did she notice that he held in his hand a gun pointed towards her.

She pressed her body against the car door, looking at him with big eyes and shook her head.

"– please – please let me out, I'm pregnant – I –" She mumbled out and squealed, leaning forward, feeling a sudden, penetrating pain in her lower abdomen, and then another and another.

She began to pant loudly in terror, and wailed as Tyland slapped the back of her head with an open palm.

"– stop pretending – I told you to fucking calm down, I won't do anything to you – I won't –" He muttered and fell silent, looking with her at the drop of blood that ran down her thigh from under her dress.

She covered her mouth with her hands and screamed loudly, falling into sheer hysteria, the man in front cursed, telling her to shut up, and Tyland just stared at her, his mouth wide open.

"– stop –" He muttered. "– fuck, God, stop, stop, stop –"

"– here? – boss, we're in the middle of a country road –"

"– STOP, I SAID –"

The car stopped at the side of the road with a screech of tyres in a way that made her hit her head on the seat in front of her – Tyland opened the door, grabbed her ankle and dragged her out of the car like an animal, leaving her on the grass, then got back inside.

The car drove off.

She just breathed, whooping with tears, looking at the grass around her and the tree trunks, feeling a horrible warm stickiness between her thighs, twitching all over, not having the strength or the will to get up.

After a while some other car stopped beside her, the people inside screamed in terror and got out, a woman who could have been her mother ran up to her and covered her mouth with her hand.

"Good God, I think they raped her."

No, she thought.

They took something much more precious from me.

She heard his loud, frightened breath as she lay in the hospital bed, the policemen standing beside her grunted at the sight of him.

"Are you her family?" Asked one of them.

"Y-yes, I'm her uncle. Good God, what happened?" He mumbled in a breaking voice.

"Your niece was found by a woman on a country road, thrown out of some car. She immediately informed us, suspecting that a rape had taken place, however, the cause of the bleeding was a sudden stress-induced miscarriage. The victim does not speak and does not want to say who did this to her. Could you please…"

The man did not finish as she heard him burst into a loud, mournful sob, felt the touch of his hands on her body, his face pressed into her hair, his broken, heavy breath.

Her eyebrows arched in pain, a single, lonely tear ran down her face.

Daemon had warned her.

The hours, the voices, the smells merged into one for her – she heard her uncle's voice, her mother's voice, she smelled their scent and touch, she heard their weeping and despair, but she herself felt like she was dreaming awake, feeling and experiencing nothing.

She felt herself awake when she heard another familiar voice.

"Did she say something?"

"No. She's silent. There's no contact with her. She's in shock." Her mother muttered, and Daemon embraced her, looking her straight in the eyes.

She felt something – she felt her heart hit harder in her chest, her eyebrows arched in misery, her breath caught in her throat.

"– baby – baby, please, say something to me –" She heard her uncle's whisper and only after a moment did she realise that he had been lying next to her on the bed all this time, that he had been stroking her head, that he had been looking at her, that he had been crying like a little baby.

"– get out for a while – leave us alone –" Daemon said – her uncle opened his mouth, furious, but she spoke up before he could say anything.

"– I want to talk to my dad –"

Everyone around her fell silent – Rhaenyra walked over to her brother and took his hand, explaining to him in a whisper that they would be back soon, that she was no longer in danger, that everything would be all right.

She felt herself quivering all over when Daemon took the chair and sat down beside her bed exactly as he had done then, after she had tried to take her own life.

She looked at him, into his bright, piercing eyes, and thought that this was what he was trying to protect her from.

"I wanted this child, dad. Very, very much." She muttered and closed her eyes, feeling the blissful emptiness she had surrounded herself with begin to crack, the pain that pierced her body, her heart so strong that she sobbed.

"I know." He replied.

"Is the baby…is the baby still inside me?" She choked out with difficulty, whooping with her own tears, feeling like she couldn't catch her breath.

"No. I'm very sorry, but no. It was too early, the baby was not yet formed. Nothing could be done." He said and she clamped her hands on her lower abdomen, thinking she felt like ripping out her uterus and other entrails because they were useless.

She was full and suddenly empty again.

She felt her father's hand on her arm, his fingers strong, his embrace giving her a sense of security.

"I have abandoned you. I chose my own pride. I knew he would want to take revenge on him. If I had given you my protection, it would never have happened. Forgive me." He said, and she closed her eyes, thinking that she wanted to become nothingness and disappear.

Despite Daemon continuing to speak to her, she fell into a state of half-sleep again, unable to think about it – her mind was repressing everything that had happened and waiting, although she didn't know what for.

What was she actually waiting for?

For her baby, she thought.

Little girl or little boy will be born in a few months.

No, she realised.

Not any more.

Tears ran down her face, but no sound came out of her mouth.

She saw him – her uncle stood in the doorway of her hospital room drenched in tears, trembling like a small child, just like she had been when she came into his room then, terrified of the darkness.

Darkness surrounded him, and he was frightened.

She didn't want him to be afraid.

He cried out loudly when she reached out her hand to him – she realised it was already dark around him when his body snuggled against hers, when he embraced her and kissed her cheek, when his face snuggled into her skin.

They lay, just breathing, holding hands – there was something comforting about that – in his silence. The fact that he knew there were no words of comfort, of justification, of absolution for them.

What did exist, however, were their bodies, warm and familiar, clinging to each other to find shelter.

She fell asleep, wrapped in his scent.

"I know you think this is my fault. That you will never forgive me." She heard his voice as if from a distance – she blinked, surprised to see that it was already daylight all around her, that her uncle was sitting beside her in a chair, looking at his hands.

Days flew by between her fingers.

How long had it been since that incident?

Since when had she been empty?

She pressed her lips together, feeling nothing but rage.

"I want Tyland Lannister." She hissed in a cold, shaking voice, and he looked at her in shock.

They stared at each other for a moment – his lower lip twitched when he suddenly realised what had happened, something in his gaze that had always frightened her, but now pleased her.

Aemond

Emptiness.

It seemed to him that he had simply gone through all the phases of grief – from despair, through denial, to a state of complete indifference.

His child, whom he had so desperately wanted, was no longer there.

He thought it would help to give the baby a funeral, even though they had nothing to bury – that's why they put the glowing stickers they had stuck on the walls of the room that was to belong to their child in a small box and buried it under a tree in the garden of their house.

She wanted the thing that would remind her of their loss to be close by, so that she could look at it every morning from her window.

It was an ordeal they lived through together, and although they suffered, they found relief in each other's arms.

She let him take her for the first time two weeks after it happened.

Lying in front of him in his embrace, she took his hand in hers and slowly guided it down under the material of her panties – she surprised him with this, because he was convinced that the vision of him touching her like this would be something disgusting to her – she, however, was wet.

He couldn't hide how much he missed her, and after a moment they were both naked from the waist down, fucking each other like animals with loud smacks of their hips, wanting nothing more than to feel fulfilled and relieved – the release he felt when he finally came inside her was like a revelation, her body hot and sweaty in his embrace, her little cunt pulsing on his erection, sucking his seed.

I'll give you another baby, he thought tenderly, kissing her long neck, not saying it out loud though, not wanting her to think he had already reconciled himself to their loss.

I will give you another baby, and then another and another.

We will be a big, happy family.

If he could say that anything good had come out of this awfully sad situation, it was that their families had begun to talk to each other again – Otto and Daemon couldn't forgive the murder of their grandchild, and Alicent, Rhaenyra, Jace and Baela had watched over his niece in his absence, looking after her.

Even Aegon asked him for a meeting, which was strange and downright comical. His brother put a hand on his shoulder and looked at him in a way from which he felt a squeeze in his throat.

"We're going to catch that son of a bitch."

The only person who was afraid to meet them was Helaena, blaming herself for what had happened despite the fact that neither he nor his Rhaenys resented her.

"She said she wanted to go shopping. Your house and the beach was across the street. I-I had the security guards go and take her dress to your house. She wanted to take a walk, she insisted. I…"

"Stop. You are not the one who did this to her. No one is blaming you." He said calmly, staring dully ahead, sitting in his car, feeling that his heart, his skin, his body, his breath were cold.

I want Tyland Lannister.

He licked his lower lip when he spotted his silhouette in the distance, coming out of one of the clubs surrounded by a few of his thugs, surely for protection.

Jason helped his brother move to another city, hoping they would never find him.

But he was wrong.

"I have to go." He said and hung up, starting the engine, dialing another number.

He never thought that he'd talk to him of his own free will.

And yet.

"He just left."

He followed him for a few streets, driving a few cars behind him, feeling strangely calm and patient – he had the impression that there were no more tears he could cry or screams he could shout.

His persona had come full circle, becoming again exactly who he had been before she had called him that evening for the first time in eight years.

He smiled, seeing that they had realised that someone was following them, trying to change direction suddenly – as he had predicted, they had fallen straight into their trap, and hundreds of loud gunshots rang out around the corner.

He pulled over to the side of the road and stepped out of the car, watching as Daemon's men slaughtered Tyland's men one by one, surprised by the manhunt from both sides, unprepared for such a sudden, merciless attack.

"– please –" Tyland mumbled, crawling on the ground at Daemon's feet – his sister's husband held a baseball bat in his hand, all dirty from his blood.

He thought with amusement that Lannister's face looked like a squashed tomato.

Together with Daemon, he dragged him, moaning and crying, to the boot of his car, locking him in there, and together they set off without exchanging a word.

By the time they reached the house by the sea there was only an hour left until dawn – Tyland had passed out in the boot from a lack of oxygen, and a strong kick to the liver revived him, making him draw in air loudly and cough, spitting up blood.

"– no – no, no, no, no, please, no –" He whined as they began dragging him along the ground towards the door, leaving a trail of his blood on the ground behind them.

When they walked into the house they threw him to his knees in front of her – his Rhaenys looked at his hunched, pathetic figure sitting in front of him on the couch in a white dress he was seeing for the first time, a knife in her hand.

Was this supposed to be her wedding gown?

I have taken away your purity and innocence, he thought with pain, looking at her with adoration.

Kora was no longer there.

Only Persephone was left.

His Queen of the Hades.

He longed to lie down at her feet and simply abide.

"– I lost someting because of you –" She said and raised herself up, touching her lower abdomen. "– my baby didn't even manage to take their first breath –"

He closed his eyes, feeling the squeeze in his throat, the pain he felt in his heart unbearable.

"– I didn't know – I didn't know, I'm sorry, I didn't know –" Tyland mumbled, because of how swollen his face was his words were indistinct and difficult to understand.

Standing over him, in her white dress, with a knife in her hand and with her beautiful hair loose, she looked like a ghost.

Like Death.

"– you threw me out of the car like an animal – you left me to die and drove away –" She whispered, tears one after another rolling down her beautiful, tired, pale face.

She had waited so long for this.

For relief.

For justice.

But no more.

"– please – please –" He begged, and she took a step towards him and knelt before him, looking straight into his eyes.

"– let me, Rhaenys –" He muttered, not wanting her to burden herself with this, to dream nightmares like him, to suffer like him because of what she had done.

"– no – I want to feel the life drain out of him – as it did out of me, then –" She said, and the knife she held in her hand stabbed into his side like butter.

Tyland wailed, grabbing the hilt, but Daemon held him down, preventing him from moving – he saw her slide the blade out, a huge bloodstain spilling down his shirt, dripping down his leg straight onto the foil-lined floor.

"That's enough. I'll take care of the rest. Take a bath and burn everything." Daemon instructed, laying Tyland's barely alive body on the ground, his breathing shallow until his eyes went blank.

His soul had left his body.

"Come." He said to her, taking the knife from her palm, placing it on the floor. He nodded at Daemon and grabbed her hand, leading her upstairs to the bathroom where the bathtub was.

Her entire dress and hands were in blood.

"Come here, little one. Come, let's wash it all off. It's okay, honey." He whispered, hugging her close, sinking his hands into her soft, smooth curls, and she reciprocated the embrace, sighing, closing her eyes as if relieved.

"Thank you."

Again she lay in the bath red with blood, again she was pale, however this time he felt that the life was not escaping from her, but returning to her – with each passing minute her cheeks flushed, her eyes wide as if her mind had returned to reality.

"Is he dead?" She muttered, and he swallowed hard, washing away with his hands any trace of what they had done from her beautiful, innocent body.

"He's no longer here. He's disappeared. He was just a monster from the wardrobe, nothing more, my love." He said quietly and she sighed, her hand touching his face.

"Do you still love me?" She asked in a trembling voice, and he looked at her, shocked.

"You are the love of my life. You need to rest. You are very tired. You haven't slept well in a long time. You're daydreaming." He replied, taking an unruly strand of hair from her face, her gaze warm and tender, meant only for him.

"Are you not disgusted with me? I've done something monstrous. I think I killed someone." She whispered, her eyes full of tears.

"– shhh –" He hushed her, pressing his forehead against hers, stroking her hair as if she were a small child. "– I forbid you to say such things – it will be our secret – mine, yours and your dad's – only we will know about it –"

"– about the monster from the wardrobe? –" She mumbled, and he nodded.

"– yes –"

Rhaenys

"– I'm scared, mummy – can I have my little lamp lit today too? –" Aemma muttered, but before she could answer her anything, she heard a voice from the bed above them, belonging to Visenya.

"– no, I can't sleep then –" Her older sister hissed, looking down at them, the bright curls she had inherited from her father in disarray.

"– I'm afraid of the monster from the television – the one from the horror movie that Aegon was watching –" Her daugther said in a breaking voice, and she furrowed her brow, shaking her head.

"– I told you this is not a film for small children –" She said sternly, and Aemma lowered her gaze on the verge of crying.

Vinseya groaned in frustration and climbed down the ladder, lying down under the duvet next to her little sister.

"– move along, coward – I'll kill any monster that disturbs my sleep –" Her daughter muttered, and she smiled and stood up, turning off the lamp.

"– good night –" She hummed and left, closing the door behind her.

She sighed, seeing the light on in his office, and moved lazily in that direction, finding him bent over documents. He glanced at her, then at the silhouette of her naked body hidden only beneath a soft silk bathrobe, and licked his lower lip with his tongue.

"– I'll come soon – give me a moment longer –"

"– talk to Aegon tomorrow – he mustn't let Aemma watch horror movies with himself because she is afraid afterwards – she's too little –" She said.

He shook his head, signing a few things.

"– I'll try, but you know him – he'll find a thousand excuses and explanations –" He grunted, and she laughed under her breath.

"– he resembles your brother –" She said amused, leaning her hip against the doorframe, and he snorted under his breath, the corner of his mouth lifted upwards.

"– indeed –" He said and looked up at her, his gaze again escaping down to her breasts and then even lower.

"Come here. Sit on the desk." He said, leaning back in his chair, and she obeyed his command with a smile, walking closer with a lazy step.

He stood up as soon as her buttocks touched the tabletop, spreading her thighs apart, making her have to reach back with her hand to catch her balance.

"– ah –" She gasped as his fingertips sank into her fleshy, warm womanhood, collecting her sticky wetness.

"– since when are you in this state? – hm? –" He hummed, pushing her closer to him with an impatient tug of his hand on her ass, the other digging warningly into her delicate skin, trailing it around her swollen clit.

"– since this morning – since I saw you come out wet and naked from the bathroom in our bedroom – I've needed you, and you haven't touched me –" She mewled regretfully, feeling her walls clench greedily around nothing, craving him inside her.

What he heard was enough for all his foreplay, and with her help he quickly undid the belt of his trousers, his breath heavy and hitched.

"– after all, I fucked you last night – I had to drive Aegon and Visenya to training – you could have joined me in the shower –" He exhaled, impatiently releasing his long, hard erection from his boxers.

She sighed and tilted her head back as, without even waiting for her response, he directed the head of his cock against her slit, opening her wide on his fat length, filling her with himself with one, lazy thrust.

"– uncle – o-oh, fuck, uncle, yes, yes, yes –" She cried out, resting her hands behind her back, letting the material of her bathrobe slide off her shoulders, revealing her breasts full of milk, bouncing each time his hips pounded against her buttocks.

"– God, be quiet – shhh, be good or I won't let you come – is that what you want? –" He breathed out and she bit her bottom lip with her teeth, looking up at him pleadingly, something in her gaze from which he began to slam into her like mad, himself struggling to restrain himself not to moan.

"– that's what I thought – you come to me – ah – begging with those big eyes for my cock – and then you can't even fucking behave –" He growled and sighed, feeling her struggling to stifle a sob of pleasure when another thrust against that same sweet spot made her fall apart in front of him, panting heavily along with him, the next few loud, sticky slaps of their bodies were enough for him to cum with a sigh of relief.

They knew each other's bodies all too well by now and, with amusement, found more and more that they had trouble holding back from coming too early.

It was just too pleasant.

"– I'm pregnant –" She whispered, and he blinked and looked at her, as if he needed a moment to start thinking soberly after such intense fulfilment.

"– what? – but –" He exhaled.

"– I'm sure – I went to the doctor today –"

"– you lied to me –" He said with irritation in his voice.

"– Criston drove me there – I told you I would go shopping with him and we did after the appointment – no lies –" She said with a smile, touching her belly affectionately.

Her husband sighed, placing his hand on hers, the expression on his face calm and gentle again.

"– it's the sixth – what a big family indeed –" He hummed, and she laughed, nodding her head.

"– yes, my love – another child to drive to training –" She said amused, and he kissed her forehead with tenderness, from which a pleasant warmth spread over her heart.

"– don't sit here too long –" She sighed, jumping off his desk as soon as he slid out of her.

"– I won't –"

On her way to their bedroom, she walked into their youngest child's room and smiled, covering her little son more tightly with the duvet. Aemon's leg immediately pushed the bedclothes off him with his mutter of displeasure, so she gave up and left him alone.

She froze, spotting a silhouette in the corner of the room, thinking it was a man, with bright eyes, blonde hair and a beard, but was relieved when, after a moment, she noticed that it was the only shadow cast by the wardrobe standing nearby.

When she walked into their bedroom, she immediately turned on the lamp by their bed and waited patiently for him to return.

She knew she wouldn't fall asleep anyway.

When she was alone in bed, she saw his face and her hands sticky with blood.

When she heard her uncle's footsteps, when his warm body finally lay down beside her and his lips placed a soft, sticky kiss on her neck, she turned off the light, his whisper next to her ear like the calm hum of the wind.

"– now I will let you moan as much as you wish –"

"– Aegon – don't let her swim out into the deep water – Daeron, Visenya keep an eye on her, after all you can see she can't swim well yet –" He shouted to their children the next day, lying in front of her on a towel on the beach, little Aemon, sitting next to them, was building a sandcastle, the hot sun burning their skin.

"– okay, Dad! –" She heard Daeron voice behind her, lying on her stomach in her black one-piece bathing suit with her back cut out, reading a book, her husband's doctoral thesis on an excavation he had run with her in one of the cities the year before.

"– what do you think? – it's the last time for corrections – I've read it hundreds of times and it already makes me want to vomit when I look at it –" He said disapprovingly, turning his gaze towards the sea again.

"– it's the best doctoral thesis I've ever read – really –" She said softly, turning the page, amazed at how effortlessly her husband wrote.

"– look, mummy – it's a fortress, and here's the moat – and there's a dragon on top –" Mumbled Aemon, forcing the Mighty Vhagar figurine that had once belonged to his father onto the top of the tower.

"– beautiful, darling – it looks like the real thing –" She said with warm approval, and Aemon smiled broadly, satisfied, busying himself with creating a bridge over the moat from sticks.

"– Aemma, don't swim so far away – how many times do I have to tell you? –" Her uncle called out, raising himself angrily on his elbow, and she sighed heavily, throwing him a look full of pity.

"– she has swimming sleeves that are full of air that will float her even if she stops moving her arms and legs – she won't drown –" She said, and her husband sighed heavily, looking anxiously towards their children playing in the water.

"– I prefer to be sure –" He muttered.

She looked at him tenderly for a moment, feeling nothing but warmth in her heart.

He was such a good father.

Such a good husband.

She knew that one day they would have to explain to their children why they only had a church wedding and were not married before the state.

But not yet.

"So let's make sure. We should swim with them." She said, extending her hand to him, and he looked at her, apparently recalling their conversation in his car then, many years ago, when he had described his fantasy to her.

He licked his lips with his tongue and grinned in a way she loved.

"Come."

______

Author's note: The child that Rhaenys lost was Viserys: I decided that this story, because it is so dark, could not end differently, and the decisions of the characters had to lead to tragedy sooner or later. Something dies in Rhaenys, but thanks to this she can finally fully join her husband in their Hades, crossing the border of innocence and naivety, maturing in a kind of cruel way. However, the rest of their children, who appeared in the original series, are born. After losing Viserys (in this version they did not know that it would be a boy), they decided that they wanted to have as many children as God would give them, since he took one away from them (in their eyes one too many). Visenya and Aegon will definitely become mafia bosses in the future, just like their father, lol. Their children have the same characters and looks like in the original series, which you can see here.

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manmadejoyswithinmycomprehension · 1 month ago

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Mr. Gap x Fem. Reader (NSFW, descriptions of female genitalia; sadly idk how this dude works; also NOT PROOFREAD we die like the doll)

You had been wandering around for a while, torn between going back to where that crawling, creepy figure lurked or going forward, where the road ahead was completely new. You had only managed to learn a few (very basic) words from someone who you liked to call "Mr. Hood" in an attempt to tone down his ghostly aura. With a defeated sigh, you left his room and headed towards the unknown hallway. Curiosity overtook you as you decided to explore. To the right was a seemingly giant, dark room, its floor covered in blood. The rumbling echoing throughout it was unsettling. Maybe not. You turned back, now weighing your options. Perhaps you didn't need to unblock the path?

Yeah, no, you definitely did. You were greeted with the creepy smile of a man peeking from behind the first door to the right. The language was still foreign to you, but he seemed to want something. Without thinking twice, you slammed the door in his face, muffling a scream. You'd much rather force your tired body to move a huge chunk of metal rather than interact with any ghost or monster or whatever roamed this world.

And so began your journey. With a lot of help from Mr. Silvair and the one who spooked you out the most when you arrived, Mr. Crawling, you got the hang of the language quite fast. But as you were exploring the old, dusty hallways after being separated from your companion and almost got killed by a huge creature, you notice a pair of twinkling eyes observing you from a crack in the wall. An idea pops up into your mind, and you rush to it in hopes of getting some help.

"Mr. Gap!"

"Hello. Me want hair. Give hair?"

"Hair give, help me!"

A strong hand dragged you into the opening, allowing the void to engulf you. Trusting this thing was risky, but at least you had a chance of surviving. The entire place was pitch black, and no matter how much you squinted, nothing more would reveal itself. You felt Mr. Gap's hand brush through your hair gently, before cutting it and nicking your neck. You try to reach for him and make him apologize, but he disappears again with a giggle.

Well, he kept his word, so we should give him that, right? He pushed you out of his "home" rather quickly after that, shoving you into a new room. But just because you agreed once it doesn't mean you're friends or anything. Far from it.

"Me want your heart. Give heart?"

"Cannot!"

"Shame... Give finger?"

"Cannot!"

Over and over. What does he even need them for? Sometimes it seemed as if he picked the worst moments to torment you. After a tiring walk and almost getting killed by the Cloth Monster, just when you laid down, he appeared between the blanket and the mattress. You couldn't hold in the scream that left you, slamming down the blanket. It left you feeling a bit guilty, though, so you gently lifted it back up, allowing him to return with a scowl on his face.

"You scared? Me friendly."

Groaning, you hold the blanket up, trying to find your words.

"Not scared, surprised."

His complexion twists into an eerie grin, his hand sliding up your thigh.

"Surprised? Feel good?"

His head dips back under the blanket, very clearly getting closer to your core. You couldn't deny the frustration which had been building up ever since you arrived there. It felt oddly... nice, having someone care enough to visit you.

His cold fingers gliding against your clit snapped you back into reality, your thighs clamping around his head. Did it deter him? Obviously not. He only took it as a sign to continue, slipping a finger inside and licking a long stripe across your clit. It was weirdly gentle and loving, his fingers stretching you out and hitting your sweetest spots, his tongue teasing your clit as you got closer and closer to-

#homicipher x reader #homicipher #mr gap #mr gap x reader #mr gap x you #mr gap smut #homicipher smut

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woso-dreamzzz · 6 months ago

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Sick III

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Magda gets sick

"Momma," You say, hopping down the last step," Morsa's throwing up in the bathroom again."

Pernille looks up from the stove and sighs. "I thought I told you that you weren't meant to go looking for Morsa?"

You shrug. "I didn't go looking for her."

Pernille doesn't believe you in the slightest.

Magda had come down with some sickness, likely the flu, a few days ago. It had started off as just an inconvenience, a stuffy nose and a few headaches. Then came the throwing up and Magda being forced to lean over the toilet bowl for a few hours in the night when she was meant to be sleeping.

Pernille knew it was wishful thinking to hope that the sickness remained with Magda only but you were a bit of a nightmare when it came to getting sick so she wanted to limit the chance of you catching it as much as possible.

If only you understood that because since Magda's sudden illness, you seem to have gotten incredibly clingy towards her like you don't want to stray out of her sight for whatever reason.

Pernille purses her lips as she looks at you, stirring the soup in the pot as she ponders what to do next.

"Why don't you have tv time?" She asks, finally settling on something to keep you occupied.

You don't get a lot of tv time, at least not where you're in control of the tv. You've never really craved it when you could play with girl-swan and girl-moose or kick a football around the garden.

But still, you're a little kid and kids love tv.

"I think Scooby Doo is on."

You think for a moment before your face twists into something akin to annoyance. "I don't like German Scooby Doo," You say," Can I watch Ben 10 instead?"

"Yeah, we can do that."

Pernille sets you up with an episode of Ben 10 in German and you settle on the sofa to watch it. With you now occupied, she sneaks up with a bowl of chicken soup just as Magda makes her way back to bed.

"You look...better."

"Don't lie." It's nice to see that Magda's humour is still there. "Is this for me?"

"Chicken soup." Pernille hands the bowl over. "You should probably wait for it to start cooling down."

"I'll be fine," Magda says," It's not like I can taste it so the heat might be the only enjoyable thing about it."

"How are you feeling? Do you need more medicine?"

"Can't take any yet. Hasn't been four hours but I'll be fine. I spoke to Linda. She said the throwing up only lasts a day. I'll be alright by tomorrow."

"Still," Pernille says," Eat your soup and drink lots of water. We're meant to be setting a good example to Princesse."

The corners of Magda's mouth quirks up a little. "Where is she? You know, I'd feel a lot better if she's here?"

Pernille rolls her eyes, scoffing. "Oh, I see. When I'm sick, I can't see her so she doesn't get infected but when you're sick, you can see her all you want? How is that fair?"

Her tone is teasing and Magda flashes a wolfish grin.

"Swedes don't infect Swedes. It's a rule."

"Well, it's great that she's Danish too, huh? No Princesse time for you until-"

"Hey, Princesse. What have you got there?"

Pernille whips her head around to see you standing by the door, clutching the little first aid kit that's usually hidden in the bathroom cabinet.

"I thought you were watching Ben 10?" She says as you come in, clambering up onto the bed and sitting on Magda's outstretched legs.

"Got bored," You reply, forcing the zip open and rummaging through it," I'm gonna make Morsa better though."

"She's sick, Princesse," Pernille says," Are you sure? You can get sick too."

You give Pernille the biggest judgemental look you can manage. "I know, Momma. I'm not silly. But I'm still going to make Morsa better."

In all honesty, Pernille is a little intrigued about how you're going to make Magda feel better with the first aid kit so she doesn't push anymore for you to leave the room.

"Does your head hurt?"

"Yes."

You bring out one of the bandages, winding it around Magda's head and tucking the end into itself.

"There you go!" You say," Now your head won't hurt. Does your throat hurt too?"

Magda nods.

You whip out one of the big plasters that's meant for big cuts and grazes on the knee and place it over Magda's mouth, making sure it's completely secure.

"You need to stop talking," You tell her sternly," Because that makes your throat hurt." You turn to Pernille. "Momma, I fixed her!"

Pernille has to force down her laughter at the bewildered expression on Magda's face.

"I can see that," Pernille says," We should leave Morsa alone now so she can recover. You did a good job."

You nod. "I know." You blow Magda a kiss. "I can't kiss you because then I'll get sick," You tell her," So have air kisses!"

You blow more kisses at Magda and shuffle off the bed, taking Pernille's hand.

"Can we finish watching Ben 10, Momma? It's a really good episode!"

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #the big adventures universe

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sleepy-grav3 · 6 months ago

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The Moon Child Part 2

Part 1

A/n: Wow. I posted the first part to this and you guys like- rushed to it like starving animals holy SHIT... Should I be scared???? anyway- here ya go

Summary: Danny meets the Aqua Family and gets the love he deserves, plus a little comfort.

Tw: hurt/comfort, bad parents, mentioned discrimination, angst, ghost animal cruelty, swears, objectification, fluff

I forgot to mention Danny goes by he/they pronouns, Atlanteans know a lot of animals, and gender is weird sometimes so they aren't assuming anything and that's fair since Danny could shapeshift if he wants

The Moon Child Part 2 - The Moon Loves the Sea

Warm. He felt warm while in his core. And he could feel the soft cushion he was placed on. He heard the stories that Aquaman Arthur would tell him about all of his adventures and the rambles about his family. He was even told the secret about his stepbrother, Orm, who's death was faked and now lived on land.

It was... nice. Safe. He hadn't felt so loved in a long time. Or, at least, he thinks he hasn't. He had lost track of time while in the labs. It was painful to think about. Visibly so. Apparently, when he drifted into those dreadful terrors, his core's soft light would flicker into a dimmer one which resonated with his sobs. Arthur or his wife, who would keep him beside them at all times, would pick him up each time and hold him close to their heart.

"It's alright" They would say. "You're safe now."

Their heartbeat would always calm him down. It pulsed out reassuring feelings with each beat of their hearts. It was soothing and he never felt so safe. Not even when he was alive. To think he needed to die to feel this way.

It took a while for the pain to finally go away, but he soon felt ready to come out of his core. He couldn't recuperate as much as he wanted to. Not to use his full abilities of his ghost powers. No, there wasn't a massive supply of ambient ectoplasm like in Amity. He learned that what he was absorbing the most was the magic, which acted as a saline solution to blood (which he was pretty sure his blood was fully ectoplasm now).

It was interesting how magic tied in with ectoplasm. He wondered if that's why summoning worked best for those in the realms for that reason. Maybe the specific rituals to summon them even tied closely with their ecto-signatures? It's an interesting thought really.

That isn't the point though. What is, is that he was healthy enough to come out of his core.

"Ok, Danny. Deep breath. Here we go-"

Arthur was doing his usual thing: struggling to wake up in the morning and only really doing it because he didn't want to worry the literal spirit of a god. And it's not even because they're a god, but because they're a child. Should he have kept them in the same room. He feels like that might've been a better choice than just leaving them in a room next to his.

Arthur shook his head, rubbing his eyes as he swung his legs over the edge only to jump at the cold feeling of the floor.

"All kinds of water magic and they still can't stop the floor from being cold."

He huffed, getting up and picking out some casual wear that didn't have a bunch of jewelry with protection runes. Some normal clothes to hang out with family.

Kaldur came back yesterday, so they're having breakfast together. He hoped that he'd believe the whole moon deity thing. Kaldur was pretty good and believing new things, but this was their main religion they're talking about. Religion is iffy, or at least it was for those on land. The ocean folk are... extremely loyal.

Should he worry about them trying to destroy the new moon...?

He shook his head. No, they probably couldn't get past the layers of the atmosphere. Hopefully.

He walked out of the door, now thinking about how sea creatures would even pull that off before knocking on the door of the room next to his.

"It is uh, me. Again." It never sounds less awkward. Maybe I should try adding the dramatics?

And with a twist and push, he opened the door only to freeze with widening eyes. The stone wasn't there.

"Oh my god- I lost-"

Only to hear a chirp. he flinched, attention darting over to the full body mirror on the other side of the door that pushed into the room. A door he was going to have fixed to avoid heart attacks like these.

He let out a huge sigh of relief, walking over and bending down with a crooked grin.

"Well, good morning. I didn't expect you to appear for a while. But hey! Perfect timing! Kaldur's going to be joining us during breakfast today, so we could introduce you guys! We could meet Orm soon too! I bet he'll be absolutely surprised!"

The child only looked at him with their big wide doe eyes. Hope sparked in them, but anxiety kept their body tense.

"You... You were serious about it? About me meeting your family?"

Arthur placed a hand on their shoulder, he could barely notice the cool temperature of their body before he saw them jump. He was going to pull away his hand, but then the child relaxed a bit more. It was as if they hadn't had affectionate physical contact in a long time.

"Have they ever been anything but a moon? Are all moons like this? What about other planets? Earth... we have so much pollution. If it were alive..., would it only just barely be clinging?"

"Yes, I was and still am. You're a part of it now for as long as we live. And even when we pass, you will continue to have a place in the ocean. You might not have realized this, but the ocean worships you like a god. In fact, I think I'm going to have to talk with the Justice League about offering an apology gift of some sort."

The child blinked, eyes wide and glistening as a layer of moisture sparkled more yet made the eye look foggy. Looking closer, Arthur could see how moonstones came to be when they cried. It would hurt if it was a literal stone the kid cried. Like- like kidney stones! He was thankful that it wasn't like that.

"You... You aren't scared of me being dangerous to them? You don't think I'm evil or non-sentient?"

Arthur blinked. What?

"No... Nobody- Why would anybody think that?"

The child pursed his lips into a thin line, averting his eyes. With each blink, a silvery white liquid would start to drip and condense to the moonstones he found.

"I... don't know how things work around here... But on land... I've... They don't respect the dead or those associated to the concept. I've tried to keep both sides from trying to destroy the other- but... but..."

Arthur took a breath, pulling the spirit into his arms into a tight embrace. They clung to their veil that was wrapped around their arms like a shawl.

It seems that he had some lore to read up upon and some things to investigate.

(This bit's about Danny's POV. It'll be continuing with his while he meets everyone)

Danny didn't know what to think when he looked at himself in the mirror earlier. He didn't have a shirt, but the scarf thing was comfy. He could make it into some kind of make-shift shirt if he wanted to too. His memory on how to do it was... foggy and fractured. Some parts of speech were muffled and what he saw from that time would blur or seemed made up.

He knew the person teaching him.

Why can't he remember them clearly? He could hear whispers of something in his head telling him who that was.

And when he pushed that thought aside, he'd look back at other memories and realize who that was.

Tucker. How could he ever forget about Tucker? Why was he forgetting him?

What made it worse was how much he had to stare at the damn mirror to get the knots right. His chest... it wasn't ever that clean. No Lichtenberg scars. No burns, no cuts, no incision scars. Nothing. It was clean of any of his failures. His struggles. His learning experiences.

And yet... he still imagined them being there. Each time his fingers would brush up against places where he knew scars should've been, a shot of pain would spike as if he'd been electrocuted.

It hurt.

He hated how he remembered.

He hated that he didn't.

He used to remember all of it. He did when he was sobbing for days on end.

Now, it was foggy. Now, it was hidden away. He couldn't reach it.

"Oh my god- I lost-"

He chirped in surprise, turning with widened eyes. Oh. It's just Arthur. I really need to get out of my head.

Arthur walked over, looking slightly drained, as if he was relieved of a sudden weight placed on his shoulders. And by the vibes, Danny's guess seemed right.

Relieved Happy Happy Excited Nervous Happy

He was always so cheery in the... well, what seemed to be the day. Sucks to be out now that he thought about it. It would be rude to just fall asleep at random now that they could physically see if he's awake or not.

Arthur greeted him warmly, cheerily saying how he didn't expect him to come out of his core as if the event was a surprise gift. That... was confusing to say the least. It's easier to have a pet rock than a guest. Now he has to feed him to be polite, or at least offer. He has the room covered since the beginning. It was a really big room. A waste for something someone like him.

He felt his body freeze and start muffling sounds when Arthur started mentioning Kaldur and Orm. His family. Close ones, from the stories he would tell.

M4Dd13 and J4Ck would never allow strangers near him, much less Jazz.

"You... You aren't scared of me being dangerous to them?" He couldn't stop the questions from slipping out even when his expression shifted. "You don't think I'm evil or non-sentient?"

He doesn't even know how he could even think of himself as otherwise. He could remember the custom-made, high voltage tasers that targets his ecto-signature itself until he acted how they expected him to. How they wanted him to.

His eyesight became extremely cloudy. It was similar to the green he'd see before he would start crying after he couldn't cry water anymore.

Ghosts... Ghosts cry ectoplasm. What... What was he crying? What is he now? He was- Why wasn't he gone? He was Ended, wasn't he? They got rid of his heart and crushed his core to determine the durability- there wasn't a way to come back from that.

So why was he alive?

Why can't he-

"-think that?"

Shit- he wasn't paying attention.

Danny couldn't bare to look at the man, guilt eating away at him.

"I... don't know how things work around here..."

He could barely register that it was his voice.

"But on land... I've..."

Why was he still touching his shoulder?

Why isn't he disgusted?

Why isn't he scared?

Why isn't he angry?

"They don't respect the dead or those associated to the concept. I've tried to keep both sides from trying to destroy the other- but... but..."

But they destroyed me instead.

It was all for nothing.

Why didn't he listen to the Ancients?

Why did he just kill people?

They already expected him to do so anyway.

So why didn't he?

He couldn't feel the hug he was pulled into until he stopped crying.

What was he even crying about?

Ok so- Maybe Danny should start scheduling his breakdowns. So far, he's had ones at random or ones that goes on for multiple days without any stopping. Or- if he did stop, he really doesn't remember them.

But this is getting embarrassing. He was lucky Kaldur came home late or else they might've either came late or completely missed the breakfast reunion.

Ugh- and don't get him started with anxiety.

His eyes must be puffy or something. Great first impression, Danny! All ya gotta do now is cry again in front of everyone to make it one of the worst introductions in life.

Well, it wasn't really a good start even without him. Arthur had just dropped him onto a very cushiony chair and exclaimed: "Thank the seas! I'm starving!" And just went to devour a whole plate before calming down a bit with Mera scolding him.

He was just awkwardly watching until a plate was placed in front of him. He slightly tensed, attention going from his plate to the hand pulling away from the plate now that it was down. That's when his eyes made contact with Kaldur's. He seemed a bit startled to, as he blinked owlishly before smiling politely.

"Hello, I'm Kaldur'Ahm. You may call me Kaldur."

"U-um.. I'm..." What should he be called now? Phantom didn't feel as right anymore. Ah, what the heck. It's not like they know little ol' Danny Fenton. "I'm Danny." For some reason, that name didn't feel too right either.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard that you've been in a stone, so I was surprised to see you carried in by fa- Arthur."

Curious Happy Happy Nervous

Danny relaxed a bit, turning to his plate once eye contact became too difficult. He picked at his food

"I didn't have much strength when I first formed. I wasn't meant to even have a body but I... didn't want to be discovered and have my core cut up and carved into for some jewelry or something, so I forced myself. you could say it's like... an energy conservation form."

Danny started to actually eat his food, though a bit quicker than he usually would. Stress eating, how lovely.

"Is it a lot of work to stay as you are now? You don't have to stay like this if you're too drained." Kaldur started to fret for him, looking for any sign of strain.

Danny, feeling the worry from him, smiled. It's been a while since someone was worried for him.

"I recovered enough energy that I have a bit extra. I can't do a lot of the things I could before, but I don't feel any pain anymore. So, I'll be fine."

Kaldur relaxed a bit, though still held a slight frown.

"Tell me if you ever feel anything. I'm more than able to hold onto your core and protect you."

Danny hummed, continuing to eat. That's about the time Kaldur remembered that it was breakfast time and started- no, continued to eat from his plate. He must've served himself when Arthur started to or even before that.

"Hey hey hey! Now that the kid's awake, why don't we take a family trip toooooooooo" He dragged out the word as Mera glared at him. "-my brother's grave! I bet he'd love to meet you! And on the way, we can go to the burger place and shop for some clothes, meet my dad-"

Danny looked over at Kaldur, who shook his head fondly at his obvious father-figure. Really, that slip up wasn't getting past him, no way, not possible.

"Don't mind him." Mera sighed. "He's an idiot."

"Hey!"

"Danny, you could always say no. We could go a different day." Kaldur mentioned.

"Danny?" Arthur questioned. Mera rolled her eyes.

"Pay attention, will you?"

"No, it's fine." Danny shook his head with a nervous smile. "I'd like to see him too."

"GREAT!" Arthur exclaimed, making Danny jump and Kaldur wince at the volume. "Hurry and finish your meals! I'll call over the pups!" and then he ran off.

"Pups?" Danny asked.

"Sharks." Mera clarified with a fond sigh. "Ever since he heard someone call them sea puppies, he's been calling them pups and puppies ever since."

"That's... really cute actually." Danny snickered.

"He sneaks away to play with them all the time." Kaldur groaned, remembering the number of meetings he had to take over for the man.

Danny reached over and patted Kaldur's forearm.

"You poor child."

"At least you understand."

Kaldur... well, Danny didn't really know how to put it. He was really nice and all, but he was a bit...

"These earrings would look great on you." Kaldur hummed as he held up dangling pearls to his ears.

Kaldur's already bought 3 bags of stuff for him in the last 20 minutes since coming to Reef Town (completely made-up place, just go with it). He even had to adjust his ghost clothes so he could wear the pants and shirt, and other stuff that were bought for him. He still kept the veil since it was really soft and soothed him when he rubbed it between his fingers.

"Ah, but this goes with your clothing... Perhaps we should order one to be made in Atlantis?" Kaldur trailed off, mumbling about different shops and what materials they had along with design names Danny had no clue about. He was almost sure that some of those words were made-up with how they sounded.

"Oookaaayyy- how about we think this over later?" Arthur insisted, a hand on Kaldur's shoulder and the other taking away the earrings in his hands. "We have someone to meet in... about 5 minutes."

"Right, sorry! I got distracted-"

"You're fine, you little urchin." Arthur chuckled, pushing Kaldur towards the door. "Now let's go meet Orm!"

Danny felt a hand on his head. It was a gentle, motherly touch. It nearly made his core let out a purr. Only Jazz could do that with touch alone. Though he nearly started to do the same when they'd mark where they'd cut next. They didn't do that as often with how much they liked to see his organs and bones regenerate.

"Tell Kaldur if it's too much. He's just really excited to have you around and is used to having to give something to keep sea creature friends around."

Ah, he knew that voice.

"Ex..cited? Why?" Danny looked up at Mera, leaning into her touch.

Mera smiled down sweetly at him; her eyes were filled with love that would be pointed to her own child.

She didn't have that drunken lust M4Dd13 had in her eyes each time she came back.

It made his core flutter.

"He sees you as a younger sibling. He's wanted one for a little while now. I... I can't get myself to try again, so he didn't expect to have a sibling. He was really excited to meet you after he heard that you agreed to stay with Arthur. You didn't reject my touch either. I hope it was fine that I held your... core, was it?"

Danny felt her finger card through his hair. He melted at the soothing touch.

"Yeah. It's... it's everything to a ghost. Heart and soul. And... I heard about you from Arthur while I was in my core. And you were the reason Arthur knew to comfort me. So, I knew I could trust you."

Mera smiled a bit more brightly and knelt down, hands holding his face with all the love in the world before she placed a kiss on his forehead.

"I'm glad. Now, let's go catch up with the boys. I'm sure Kaldur and Arthur must be panicking."

Danny could barely follow after her, having to make himself float as she grabbed his hand to lead him outside. Everything was too fuzzy and happy; it was hard to focus.

"Did you kidnap a child spirit?!"

That was the first thing Orm said when he saw Danny, immediately looking at Arthur incredulously as he slammed the table with his hands.

He immediately walked over and knelt down in front of Danny.

"I am so sorry about him-"

"Hey! I didn't-"

"-he's an idiot and really doesn't know any better."

"I didn't kidnap him!"

Orm arched a brow at his brother before looking over at Mera.

"No contracts were made."

Orm looked back at Danny.

"You went with him willingly?"

Danny snickered. "He looked like an idiot."

"You too?!"

"You really can't blame him." Kaldur agreed, smiling over at Danny.

Danny giggled and looked back at Orm.

"I'm Danny."

"Orm, that idiot's older brother. Stepbrother. Now, why did a saintly spirit decide to tag along with this family?"

Mera walked over, placing a hand on Danny's head again. He leaned into it, barely able to keep in a purr.

"You remember the incident with the moon?" Orm nodded. "Well, they're the spirit of the moon."

Orm's eyes widened, head snapping right back to Danny.

"You- you're-"

Danny blinked. He's a what? Wait, not the time to dissociate-

"Is... Is that bad?" Danny hesitantly asked.

"No! Not at all- I just- I've always believed in you, it's just that- Seeing an idol is a bit of an experience-"

"An idol?" Danny questioned, looking up at Orm. He was still kneeling, doesn't that hurt?

"Well, I've heard stories about how you'd battle against the sun gods and sent blessed rain to heal those under incurable plagues. That you split your own soul to assist physically on this world to help those that roamed on it! I've traveled to different places on the land just to see your descendants. And what beautiful white features they have. Did you know that humans call them albinos?"

"Really?"

"Yes! They deserve a better name that fits the position of blessed descendants! The fools!"

"I-it's fine, really! I'm glad they're doing ok and- and that my blessing still lives on."

Orm sighed and stood up.

"You're much too kind. Even after they replaced you, you don't hold it against anyone."

Oddly enough, he felt his chest tighten. It was as if...

"Someone has to do my job in controlling the currents, right?" Danny smiled sadly.

The others seemed to feel sympathy for the spirit, Kaldur going over and pulling him into a hug.

"It's alright. The ocean will stand by your side. Forever. They still worship you even now. So don't think you were only a tool, ok?"

Danny nodded. "Ok.."

He fought back against the tears.

-----

A/n: well, that was a bit longer than the last one. I was planning to write more for this chapter, but I'll just add it to the next one. Sorry if it seems a bit stiff, it'll be better eventually... hopefully.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed.

#dc x dp #danny phantom #de aged danny #moon spirit! danny #aquaman #kaldur'ahm #justice league

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hopesangelsprite · 1 year ago

Text

Your Touch

Summary: A thought that turned into me writing at nearly 1:00 am 💀

Warnings: language, fingering, biting (sexually and not sexually at the same time-), groping, grinding if you squint, manipulation (this is Illumi we're talking about... bffr)

There are many, many things we don't know about Illumi Zoldyck. For example his birthday, the full extent of his power, his total body count, etc. But we can safely say that Illumi Zoldyck is one touch starved mf 💀.

We know that he didn't have the best upbringing or most affectionate parents, so we can safely assume that the only reason he doesn't have to Google what a hug is is because of his expensive ass education and the things he's seen on television. So, imagine his shock when his wife is one of the most affectionate people on the planet.

At first he's appalled and thoroughly considers getting an immediate divorce. Then, ever so slowly, that insanely thick layer of ice on his heart begins to thaw. Those hugs he used to blatantly reject? He welcomes them albeit stiffly. If you ask him how he's feeling now, he's less likely to release bloodlust with the intent to kill you. He even finds himself seeking situations that naturally warrant your love and affection being directed solely toward him.

And just like he usually does, Illumi becomes obsessed. Forget about sleeping on your own ever again. Night after night, his cold body is either completely on top of yours or pressed firmly against your backside. When he's on top of you, settle in for the night and kiss bathroom trips goodbye because he's not moving until sunrise. When he's spooning you, both his hands station themselves in two spots: one on your chest, the other between your thighs on your crotch.

The amount of times you've fallen asleep breathless because his hands have a mind of their own is insane. The amount of times you've tried to fall asleep but couldn't because Illumi wanted to see you cum on his fingers is even crazier. And he swears he wasn't even thinking about it. You could be overstimulated and crying before he pauses in the middle of you coming. "My bad, kinda spaced out a little there.", he whispers in a voice so even it's almost believable, "I suppose I should reward you for being so patient with me, right?". Then he's back to abusing your holes. Even though you might be missing sleep, Illumi's never slept better.

When he's not terrorizing you're sensitive spots in the night, he makes sure that no matter where you are that he's got his hands somewhere on you. In a car heading somewhere? His hand's on your thigh, kneading it "absentmindedly". At a party for reconnaissance or a hit? His hands only leave your hips when absolutely necessary. Relaxing while he's in the room? Be prepared to be moved from your spot onto his lap with a quickness. If you're already in comfy spot, he won't hesitate to climb into your lap instead.

Either way his teeth will find your skin shortly afterward. This is another thing he discovered that brought him comfort. There's nothing like coming home from a long day of murder and espionage to mark you're pretty little wife up out of pure, twisted love. Bonus points if you squirm a bit while he's marking a path across your throat. Bonus bonus points if you bite him back, now you've got him started. Say you don't encourage his not so innocent behavior, he'll relax and tell you all that's been on his mind recently. It's a perfect time to bond in more ways than one.

All of those things are good and all, but his absolute favorite way of showing his affection is practically glueing his hips to your ass whenever your bent over. Say you drop a utensil while you're in the kitchen or need to grab something from under a cabinet. No matter how far away in the house he is, within seconds his big hand is on the small of your back and his crotch is nestled perfectly against your ass.

Then, to make things even eerier, he'll say shit like "My my, that was a hard fall... you should be more careful next time." or "What have I told you about putting your ass in the air without me around, someone could take advantage of you. Now bend a little lower for me.". He's such a loving husband that he makes sure to punctuate each sentence with a warning thrust or a hearty slap.

Illumi Zoldyck may be touch starved, but he's slowly making up for lost time every step of the way.

#illumi zoldyck #anime #hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter fanart #hxh #hxh illumi #illumi headcanons #illumi x reader #smut #headcanon #husband material #touchstarved #hxh au #anime au #hxh headcanons #anime headcanons #random thougts

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lacydollette · 4 days ago

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Lol, this is from my own current personal angst in my life but I was thinking it can be used for an angsty Rafe x Reader. I have very low self esteem, I don't think I look pretty so I have a hard time accepting that a guy could be interest in me or find me appealing, especially cuz guys have called ''mid''. Right now I'm talking to THE sweetest guy. THE most greenest flag of all. Super respectful, mature and kind. I had a freakout and pushed him away, wanted to stop talking. He got super upset, send me a drunk text basically being like ''I'm so attracted to u and your everything I've ever dreamt of. I just wanna make you happy and make you smile. Your so special to me. I keep saying that your beautiful, amazing and gorgeous but you won't hear it. Please don't let your insecurites get in the way of us. I fkn miss you'' I mean...hey feel free to take whatever inspiration you want from that, change it, build on it, whatever you want! We just want a sappy head over heels Rafe who is heartbroken being pushed away (but with a happy ending)

a/n tysm for sharing this with me! and please don’t let your doubts get in the way of your happiness. you are BEAUTIFUL and you MATTER ❤️‍🩹 i hope u like this little piece.

warnings rafe cameron x fem!reader, reader with low self esteem, situationship, angst, fluff, rafe being a sweetheart

Rafe couldn’t really tell when it started, but he could feel it in your forced smiles and short responses. He tried to convince himself it was nothing, but the ache in his chest told him otherwise. Every attempt to figure out what he had done wrong was met with your dismissive shrug and a short, “I’m fine.”

But what Rafe didn’t know about was the chaos in your mind. You liked him—really liked him—but your insecurities were keeping you from letting yourself fall completely. You couldn’t ignore the way girls seemed to flirt with Rafe at parties, the way people whispered that you weren’t pretty or cool enough, to be with someone like him. It didn’t matter how many times he told you that you were beautiful—the doubt in your mind drowned out his words. So, you began to pull away, convinced it was only a matter of time before he realized you weren’t what he wanted.

And that’s why Rafe ended up going to this party alone, although it should have been a night that you two spend together. You had promised to go, only to back out at the last minute with a stupid excuse about not feeling well. Rafe knew you were lying. Obviously he didn’t want to go without you, but after Topper wouldn’t stop begging him, he gave in.

He spent the first hour trying to lose himself in the crowd, nursing a beer and pretending to laugh at Topper’s jokes, but it was useless. Every girl who tried to flirt with him only reminded him of you, and every drink made the knot in his chest tighten. Eventually, he escaped out into the yard, needing space to think—or maybe just to breathe.

The cool night air sobered him slightly, but not enough to stop him from pulling out his phone. His fingers hovered over your contact before he finally hit call. It rang three times before you picked up.

“Rafe?” You said softly, voice trembling slightly. You winced at how vulnerable you sounded.

“hi, baby.” he said, his voice breaking slightly before going right in. “What’s going on with you? Please, just tell me. Did I do something? Did I hurt you somehow? Because if I did, fuck I swear to God, I didn’t mean to.”

Your throat tightened, guilt twisting in your stomach. He sounded so desperate, so unlike the confident, self-assured Rafe you knew. You didn't know what to say, how to explain something you couldn't even fully understand yourself.

“Talk to me, y/n,” he pleaded. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep guessing what’s wrong. I care about you too much to lose you like this.” His voice cracked, and he raked a hand through his hair, his frustration spilling over. “I’m completely crazy about you. I don’t care about anyone else. You’re it for me. You’re the only one I want.”

Your heart shattered at his words. He cared about you, really cared about you. But how could he? How could someone like Rafe Cameron, with his perfect smile and effortless charm, care about someone like you?

"Rafe..." you whispered, unsure of what to say. “No,” he interrupted. “You have no idea how much you mean to me. I think about you all the time—when I wake up, when I go to sleep. You’re all I want, y/n. And if there’s even a part of you that feels the same way—then please, stop pushing me away.”

The silence that followed was unbearable. Rafe leaned against a tree, his heart pounding so loudly it drowned out everything else. Then he heard you breathe out, followed by muffled sobs, which you tried so hard to suppress by pressing your palm over your mouth. You wanted to believe him, wanted to let his words sink in and erase all your doubts. But the fear was still there.

“I didn’t think I was enough for you,” you finally whispered, voice trembling. “You could have anyone, Rafe. And people keep saying I don’t deserve you, and maybe they’re right.”

“Are you kidding me?” he said, his voice rising as he couldn’t believe that you’d actually think that. “Baby, you’re more than enough. You’re everything. Don’t let what other people say get in your head. They don’t know you. They don’t know us.”

Your sniffle came through the line, and he could picture you wiping your tears, head bowed like it always was when you were upset. “I just… I didn’t want to hold you back.”

“You’re not holding me back,” he replied softly. “You’re the only thing keeping me sane.” He paused. “Please, just let me in. Let me prove to you how much you mean to me.”

The sincerity in his voice was undeniable, and you believed him. Believed that he was serious about you two. “Okay.” You said. Relief washed over him, and he exhaled shakily. “Okay,” he repeated, his lips curving into a smile. “I’m coming to you right now.”

Your eyes widened, “No, Rafe, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he said firmly. “Stay where you are. I’m coming to you. We’ll figure this out together.” And with that, he ended the call, his heart pounding with determination. He didn’t care what anyone else thought. You were his, and he wasn’t going to let you go.

#blurbs ₊˚⊹♡#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader

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shanastoryteller · 4 months ago

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Shana, your tags on this post ...I need to know more! What exactly was the plan for Supernatural season 3 if it hasn't been for the writer's strike??? And how haven't I heard about this already?? I need the deets!

i'm so glad you asked :)

the original plan for season 3 was for sam to descend into using his demon powers to get dean out of the deal, and for dean to never go to hell. then the writers strike happened, the season got cut from 22 eps to 16, with only 4 after the strike, and that wasn't enough time to establish sam's spiral and powers, so changed the ending. it's on the wiki and there are some articles around about it

this was, in my opinion, the worst fucking decision they could make

it ruined the characters in a lot of ways and really unbalanced everything in a way the show never recovered from

the thing is that this arc is so well set up!

literally at the end of season 2 we get

"You're my big brother, there's nothing I wouldn't do for you. And I don't care, I'm going to get you out of this. I'm going to save your ass for a change."

sam has evaded azazel's every attempt to corrupt him. his shitty home life, all the demons he's exposed sam to, killing jessica, taking away his father, putting him in a literal life or death hunger games scenario. each time sam refuses to play ball

(sam's incorruptibility is what makes him qualified to be king of hell, but that's a different post)

he's the moral compass between him and dean. always has been. there is nothing in sam's messed up, twisted life that has pushed him pass mercy

but dean could do it. there's nothing sam wouldn't do for his big brother

john told dean that he had to either save sam or kill him. except he's never needed to save sam, because it's literally always sam making the measured, compassionate, merciful call. he's the one holding dean back, not the other way around

and sam straining towards darkness for the first time, for dean, would kill him. we'll come back to this

mystery spot, as an episode, is actually pointless if the plan was for dean to go to hell. because sam's sneak peek into what his life is like after dean doesn't do anything. i love this ep, but it's narratively pointless now

however

with the og plan, mystery spot is the turning point. it not only tells sam how miserable he'll be after dean is gone, but it also establishes what he's willing to do to get him back - pretty much anything. it's not theoretical pain, it's not theoretical grief. mystery spot is the thing that pushes sam towards being hard, away from the moral sweetness he's embodied for the past two and half seasons.

the next ep, jus in bello, shows this. sam is considering doing the terrible thing. he's now capable of considering the terrible thing in a way he wasn't before mystery spot. this is when his descent starts, when sam decides he's willing to trade his humanity for his brother's life

and then the writer's strike happened

right when it's getting good, right when sam's arc is ramping up, we lose it. and instead of picking it back up, pushing dean's deal to next season and giving it the weight it deserves, they say fuck it, and send dean to hell

but this fucks it all up. we have sam's "descent" with ruby and demon blood. except not really because he's not even hurting anyone. and dean's back, but not because of sam. sam didn't save him

this fucks it all up

because deans anger and fear and desire to save sam should have been tempered with the knowledge that he did that to save dean's life. that once more someone dean loves has made a terrible sacrifice for him, which he can't stand, which he hates. he has the self esteem of a gnat and the best people he knows keep destroying themselves for his benefit

i think the og build up was sam strengthening his powers to kill lilith, doing it, and then releasing lucifer at the end of s3. sam unwittingly starting the apocolypse to save his brother (does he regret it, dean wonders. it would be easier if he did)

and now everything is shit and dean's drowning but here and his brother has turned himself into something that's not unlike the kid dean loves so much it almost killed him, but not exactly the same. and now he understands john, because this is the sam that dean has to either save or kill, except he could never kill him. he loves him (and how can he kill sam for doing this when it's dean's fault, when dean made the deal that doomed his brother when all he wanted was to save him)

this is the flip that the show has been building towards. dean having to be the moral center for his brother for once. dean being the one saved. dean finally having to face his father's words and deciding once and for all if he's john's son or sam's brother

but instead dean goes to hell. and he's no one moral's center. because he broke in hell, he tortured people and he enjoyed it. they ruined dean with this. because instead of fighting and growing from his violence, they push him into it, and then they call him a righteous man. dean was the one harming people, he's the one that descended into darkness, not sam. sam and his demon blood had still only been trying to good, and in the end did do good, far more than anything dean did in hell, or has done since. his moral outrage, his anger, his disgust towards sam isn't only wildly out of character, it's hypocritical as hell. sam remains the moral, compassionate one, even through this. it never slides to dean. neither of them are really forced to grow or change, only to become twisted into each other in ways that hurt them both

this should have been the story of what sam would do to save his brother (anything) and what dean would do to save his brother (anything)

they should have saved each other

#instead we get dean as an abusive asshole and sam the perpetual victim from him from lucifer from everyone #in magicians julia has a line after her sa about how shes not a delicate flower or a fragile piece of glass that she's a person and ppl hea #they never let my boy heal #either of them #something something everyone is sam's family making deals that he has to pay for #supernatural #asks #flamingwell

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cheapshrimpysheep · 1 year ago

Text

Meanwhile with Malleus

SUMMARY: You spent a lot of time with Malleus while the others fought ghosts. What could have happened in all that time? You needed to sleep before the party. And maybe he taught you how to play the organ.

CHARACTERS: Malleus Draconia x Reader 🐉🦐

TAGS: Fluff, GN Reader, Cuddles, Flirting, Kissing

WARNING: Spoilers from Twisted Halloween: Spectral Soiree

WORD COUNT: 2.830 words

COMMENTS: The truth is that I started writing this a few weeks (maybe months) ago and it has been on hold for a long time. As this event returned to the Eng Server I decided to finish it and post it in October.

I hope you enjoy 💚

After all that Halloween week, the Magicam Monsters and that parade, you were dead tired. You just wanted to rest after all that. But someone knocks on the door of Ramshackle Dorm.

“Tsunotarou?!” You didn't know whether to show that you were happy to see him or to ask if anything was wrong.

“Child of Man,” Malleus speaks with a smile “I'm here to invite you and the rest of the Ramshackle Dorm residents to an Halloween party at the Spectral Realm.”

You don't seem as happy about the idea as he thought you would be. And you were confused too. “A Halloween party? At the... what's the Spectral Realm?”

He briefly tells you about the ghosts and the party he plans to throw with the other NRC students at the Spectral Realm.

“I don't know if I can handle another party, Tsunotarou.” you say sadly “I'm really so tired.”

“Yeah...” Grim says “I mean, even if there's a feast, I still need to rest to have the energy to eat more.”

“Besides.” you look at the clock “Halloween is almost over.”

“Oh, don't worry about that little detail.” Malleus smiles and snaps his fingers. You stop listening to the clock ticking and when you look at the clock again it's eleven fifty-nine.

“Can you stop time?” you say almost in a whisper.

“You should know by now that I am capable of doing many things.” he smirk “But this spell is only affecting the Sage's Island. And about your tiredness, I'll let everyone else sleep until the party preparations are done, I can arrange a quiet place for you to rest in the Spectral Realm if you like.”

“We already sleep with ghosts so it shouldn't make much difference, right (Y/N)?” Grim says.

You sigh and end up accepting it. Malleus smile gladly and then looks at your tired posture.

“If you are also very tired from walking all day, I don't mind helping you.”

“Would you carry me in your arms?” you ask partly jokingly, partly hoping he would say yes.

He laughs, loving your boldness. “Are you sure you want to make such request?”

“Is that a no?”

“No, it is not a No. Fu fu. Honestly answering your question, yes, I would carry you if you needed. And yes, I would carry you to the Spectral Realm.” he smiles amusedly at you.

“Oh come on, just jump to his arms already or something!” Grim complains. “And do everyone a favour and get that room.”

You blush, Malleus laughs. “In fact, we should go. I don't want to keep Lilia waiting any longer. May I?” He asks you.

You nod and he picks you up, bridal style. One hand behind your knees and the other on your back. As easily as if you weighed nothing. Inevitably, you need to support yourself by putting your arms around his neck and your faces get very close. He’s smiling and his eyes looking at you affectionately.

“OI!” Grim complains again “My paws are hurting too. I also want to be carried.”

Malleus laughs again. “That can be arranged.” He turns his back to Grim and wraps his draconic tail around the little beast's waist. “MRAH!” And picks his up. “You are able to come by yourselves, correct?” he asks the three ghosts who have been watching in secret from you.

When you arrive at the Mirror chamber, Lilia was there waiting for you all. He just didn't expect Malleus to bring Grim with his tail and you in his arms. First Lilia worries.

“Oh! Did something happened? Did (Y/N) get hurt on your way here?”

You get even more embarrassed. Mainly because you knew that Malleus would tell Lilia the truth.

“Fu fu fu. Don't fret, Lilia.” Malleus smiles, like he's glad Lilia saw the two of you like this. “Child of Man is just really tired of walking all day and asked me if I could carry them.”

Lilia looks at you and gives you his sly smile. “Oh, truly? Fu fu fu. How daring for a human.”

“Can we go to that ghost world already?!” you hear Grim's voice complaining. “This is not that comfortable you know.” Malleus flicks his tail to the side, revealing to Lilia a Grim caught in a black dragon's tail. And Lilia starts to laugh heartily, almost bringing tears to his eyes.

Malleus only put you back on the ground when you arrived at the Sparkling Chamber. You took a moment to admire the place. But it didn't take long for you and Grim to start yawning.

“Ah, yes. I promised you that I would find you a place to rest.” Malleus remembers.

“Indeed, (Y/N) must rest.” Lilia says “I sure know how harmful lack of sleep can be to a human. If I'm not mistaken, I think there are some rooms beyond this Chamber that you can use.”

Malleus would go with you to find a room while Lilia started getting the chamber ready for the party.

You found a good one, but it had no furniture or what little it had was broken. You comment on trying to find another one, but Malleus says that won't be necessary. With a snap of his fingers the room is cleaned and the furniture repaired.

In one corner of the small room was an antique carved pine single bed. The sheets were white and the cover a pale purple. Similar to Malleus' own bed in Diasomnia. Grim jumped to the foot of the bed and was asleep in seconds. You, on the other hand, look a little unease.

“I can change your clothes to pajamas with magic if it makes you more comfortable.” Malleus suggests.

You say that would help a lot, so he gestures and your Halloween costume changes to pale green pajamas. It was comfortable, like the bed you sit on. But even so, there was still something that didn't leave you completely at ease.

“I know I sleep in a dorm with ghosts now.” You explain. “But I only sleep well today because I've gotten used to them and the dorm has had some improvements. But I almost couldn't sleep the first few nights. I don't know if I'll be able to fall asleep here.”

“I see. Would you feel more rested if I stayed by your side until you fell asleep?” He was smiling, like he was sure you were going to say no.

When you say yes, he is taken aback for a moment. His bright green eyes looking at you wide open in astonishment. But then he remembered who he was talking to and laughed with the greatest of joys. He smiled warmly at you. “You know, I believe some children want company to fall asleep so that person can protect them from me. This is... an interesting... no, delightful turn of events. I dare say”

You open the sheets and lie down. After placing them on top of you and settling down on the bed, Malleus sits down beside you. He could use magic to put you to sleep, but he didn't want to. He wanted to see if you genuinely felt comfortable around him to the point where you could fall asleep.

“Briar Valley has many lullabies.” He tells you, with the softest of voices. “Sleep and dreams are deeply embedded in our culture. Would you like me to sing you one of our lullabies? Allowed me to guess, your answer is yes.”

“You can't make a proposal like that and expect me to say no.” You say with a soft smile and already with your eyes closed.

Malleus chuckles and happily fulfills your request. He sings to you in a sweet tone, that becomes even more affectionate when he looks at your sleepy smile.

When he finishes, you are already fast asleep. He is smiling looking at you and take one of his hands to your head. But stop before touching you, hesitating. As if he's afraid that the moment he touches you, you'll startle awake. But even so, he took the risk.

He puts his hand on your head, stroking your hair. And you don't wake up. Actually, your smile comes back slightly. He is so happy about it. And he decides to risk it just one more time.

He leans over you and kisses your forehead. And you were still sleeping. “Dream of me. As I dream of you.”

He stayed with you for a while longer. Before he finally left to assist with the party preparations, he did two things. First, he cast another spell so that outside noises wouldn't disturb your sleep. And second, he put a paper on your bedside table in case you wake up earlier than necessary. It said that since you had no way of knowing if you slept too much or too little, because time was still, you didn't have to worry that he would wake you up when the time came.

And that is what happened. You feel a kiss on your cheek and a familiar voice in a sweet tone saying your name. You open your eyes to find Malleus's bright green ones looking at you, over a sweet smile.

“We hear that the other students have already woken up and are on their way here.” Malleus explains, sitting on your bed watching you stretch. “So we figured you should have gotten enough rest too. Did you sleep well?”

“I did. Thank you so much.” you sit on the bed.

“For asking?” He seems confused that you would thank him so much for something so trivial.

“No. For what you've done. For fixing the room, giving me a comfortable bed and mostly staying with me until I fall asleep. I probably wouldn't have been able to sleep here without you.” You hear snoring at the foot of your bed, behind Malleus who was facing you. “Unlike Grim.”

Malleus seems very happy about what you said. And there was something he really wanted to ask you. “Do you happen to remember what you dreamed? People dream every night, but sometimes they forget about them and that's why they think they didn't dream that night.”

A dream? You think. And yes, you remember! But you say it was a silly dream. When the truth is, you're slightly embarrassed.

“I've heard that the silly dreams can be the most meaningful.” Malleus says. “I would love to hear about yours. But if it's something you don't want to tell me, I understand. Dreams can be extremely personal.”

You think about it. It was no dream that I couldn't tell anyone. It was even...cute. So you decide to tell him.

You remember you were in a forest, for some reason. You lived there? You had lots of animal friends and you remember singing and dancing with them. What you were singing... you recognize... it was the lullaby Malleus sang to you. There was an owl wearing the cape of the Houseworden of Diasomnia, a rabbit in each black boot with green heels, and a squirrel with a small pillbox hat, balancing on top of the owl's head.

When you finish describing this part, both you and Malleus are laughing. “I wouldn't be surprised if I ever witness the same scenario with Silver's clothes.” Malleus comments between laughs. But you hadn't finished telling the dream yet.

As you danced with the animals, someone appeared behind you and continued singing and dancing with you, making that song a duet. When you turn around, you find Malleus.

“Did I scared you?” He asks about the Malleus in the dream. He was smiling, but you knew that wasn't his real smile. It was a smile that hid some apprehension.

“No, of course not. I was very happy to meet you there.” He looked like you had lifted a weight off his shoulders with just those words of yours. The next thing you remember is dancing with Malleus in a ballroom. and what you were wearing was constantly changing color because... Two Lilias? Were arguing about whether you should be wearing green or purple.

And with that the two of you started laughing again. Malleus said you should tell that last part to Lilia, he'll love it.

“I dreamed of flying tuna cans.” Grim said, to prove that he too was already awake. "But I couldn't catch any. It was a nightmare.”

“Fret not, Grim. There will be plenty of food for you when everyone arrives and the party begins.” Malleus assured him. “And now that you two are awake, I should change your clothes back.” He wave his hand and Grim's hat and cap come back, but this time they're green instead of purple.

He gets up from your bed and holds out his hand to you, like one of those gentleman helping you out of the carriage. You give him your hand and get out of the bed. Then he surprises you by spinning you, like the dance move.

When the spin ends your clothes have changed. But not like Grim's that stayed the same, just changing the colour. Your clothes were also green now, where once were purple, but they weren't the same as the ones the ghosts gave you. It looks like an improved version, with more details and accessories. Malleus looked at you as if admiring you and proud of his work.

“How do I look?” you ask.

“Wonderful.” He simply says with a smile, as if it were an obvious truth.

He offers you his arm for you to walk arm in arm into the Sparkling Hall. He tells you about the plans for the party as you walk down the hall and explains about the mirror ball. And when he tells you that he plans to play the organ during the party you are so excited and curious that you ask him if he could play something for you.

He smiles. “I think there will be no problem. I may even take this opportunity to practice.” He takes you to the organ and asks you to sit next to him while he plays.

It's no surprise that he plays beautifully. You look at him playing which practically hypnotizes you. Your ears appreciate music while your eyes appreciate him.

He looks at you smiling, as if he knew you were looking at him the whole time. He lets you get flattered, he loves seeing you like that, before asking you: “You can play?”

“Organ? Oh no, I don't.”

“Would you like to try? We have plenty of time until the guests arrive. I can teach you a simple melody.”

You accept his offer. He smiles happily.

“I'm glad. I'm eager to hear you play. Even if it is a basic song. However, forgive me if this is an impolite question, but would you mind sitting on my lap while I teach you? it will be easier for me to show you the keys and the correct way to move your fingers from a similar perspective as yours.”

You try to say you don't mind without showing how happy you really are. However, it's not that easy, and he laughs with delight that you not only don't mind but are happy with the suggestion.

You sit on his lap and hear a soft sound on the floor behind you. You glance back and Malleus tries to hide his draconic tail whose tip was happily wagging. You don't hide your giggle. Your back finds his chest, his hands cover yours to indicate the keys you should play and he begins to teach you a simple but beautiful song.

After a few minutes, you forget the world. It's just you, Malleus and the organ. You fail a few notes and he corrects you with a laugh. When you get it right you hear him congratulating you and saying you're doing well. And all the while you can feel the affection he has for you, the gentle way he holds your hands, the sweet way he talks to you even when you miss the notes. Until you end up reaching the end of the song.

“Wonderful.” Malleus says with a sweet and dreamy voice “That was the most beautiful play I ever heard.”

“But I failed so many notes.” You remember him, smiling.

“I'm very aware of that. But it was the first thing I heard you play. So it will always be special to me from now on.” he takes his hands out of yours and hugs you around the waist. And lay his head on your shoulder. “You will always be special to me.” he whispers in your ear, and kiss your cheek.

You hear that sound of his tail wagging happily on the ground behind you again.

If you decide to tip your head back, tell him how you feel about him and allow him to kiss your lips, you will receive the most loving kiss and he will hug you tighter.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

#Twisted Wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst wonderland #twst fluf #Twisted Wonderland Fluf #twst fluff #Twisted Wonderland Fluff #Twisted Halloween #Malleus Draconia #Malleus Draconia x Reader #Malleus x Reader

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