#this is absolutely not a complaint. i want more and i want them to get even SILLIER.

[fangdokja]

You’re made of 30 trillion cells, and every single one of them is obsessed with you.

♡ Yandere! Science Body x Fem. Reader. White Blood Cell, Red Blood Cell, Nerve Cell, Sperm Cell

♡ Word Count. 2,181

♡ Yandere! White Blood Cell who's got the combat skills of a seasoned assassin and the personality of a game show host. Loud, unpredictable, and fundamentally bored unless there’s something—someone—to break apart on a microscopic level. His bloodstained gloves are a permanent accessory, a testament to his absolute dominion over intruders.

♡ Yandere! White Blood Cell who is adored and feared in equal measure, a hero to his fellow cells and a nightmare to anything foreign. He kills with a smirk, dragging the battle out for the thrill, for the tension, for the aesthetic. He likes his victories long, drawn-out, and personal. But oh, don’t let that fool you—his protection? It’s suffocating. He watches everyone like a hawk, like a beast surveying his territory, and god help you if you try to step out of line.

♡ Yandere! White Blood Cell who is the strongest immune system soldier, yet spends more time playing with his food than eliminating threats. He drags out his kills, letting pathogens beg before dissolving them into nothingness. Every microbe, bacteria, and virus trembles at the mere mention of him. But his colleagues? They just find him annoying.

♡ Yandere! White Blood Cell who is so powerful that other immune cells rely on him to take care of major infections, yet he treats it all like a joke. "Oh? A life-threatening virus? Haha, cute. Maybe I'll get serious next time." He always wins, so he doesn’t see a point in trying.

♡ Yandere! White Blood Cell who gets a little too excited when things go wrong in the body. A minor infection? Great, he gets to exercise his dominance. An all-out immune response? Fantastic, he can go all out. He wants to be needed, and if there’s no danger, he gets…bored. Bored enough to start seeing ‘threats’ where there aren’t any.

♡ Yandere! White Blood Cell who is convinced that you’re the most radiant, most perfect, most utterly healthy cell in existence. You’re so hardworking, so polite, so diligent! Always chatting with the neighboring cells, always helping out, always thriving. How does he know? Well, he may or may not have followed you home a few times. Just a few. He’s a White Blood Cell! Surveillance is part of the job! That’s just proper immunity protocol!

♡ Yandere! White Blood Cell who insists on escorting you wherever you go, whether it’s the bloodstream, the alveoli, or just across the plasma membrane for a break. He hovers. He looms. He grins in that insufferably cocky, easygoing way that makes every other cell seethe with jealousy. Why you? Why is he spending time with you?

He doesn’t let them question it.

“You’re so soft, you know that? You’re, like, too soft. What if you get damaged? I mean, sure, the Platelets can patch you up, but—do you really want to go through that? They’re weird little goblins, no offense.”

(Platelets: offended)

———

♡ Yandere! Red Blood Cell who's battle-hardened, scarred, and fundamentally exhausted, but he keeps going because the body needs him. He doesn’t stop. He’s the lifeline of the system, the ceaseless current of existence, a grim soldier marching forward no matter how battered he gets.

♡ Yandere! Red Blood Cell who doesn’t take kindly to anyone messing with his routine. He delivers oxygen and picks up carbon dioxide with the precision of a war general, a hardened beast who’s learned not to waste time.

♡ Yandere! Red Blood Cell who is the silent, brooding type, dragging oxygen like it’s the weight of the world on his back. He works tirelessly, traveling endless miles through the circulatory system without complaint. He never stops. Never rests. Never questions why he does it—until now.

♡ Yandere! Red Blood Cell who doesn’t realize how dangerous he looks. Thick muscles, a permanently pissed-off expression, and a gait that makes other cells step aside. He’s just doing his job, yet somehow, he’s terrifying. There’s an aura around him—like he’s been through hell and barely crawled out. (Because he has.)

♡ Yandere! Red Blood Cell who is built for efficiency and nothing else. He’s seen the worst the body has to offer—starvation, hemorrhages, dehydration. He’s watched his comrades die, crushed in capillary collapses, shredded in splenic filtering. And yet, he keeps moving. He always keeps moving.

♡ Yandere! Red Blood Cell who doesn’t care about anything—until he does. And when he does, it's obsessive. Protective. Suffocating. He’s carried oxygen for the body his whole life, but he would gladly throw it all away for one thing: purpose.

♡ Yandere! Red Blood Cell who first meets you in the capillaries, a silent, dead-eyed cell standing by as he drops off his latest haul of oxygen. There’s something about the way you just stare at him, completely unimpressed by his Herculean efforts, that makes his interest spark. You’re weird. He likes that.

♡ Yandere! Red Blood Cell who doesn’t talk much, but when he does, it’s gruff and to the point. He doesn’t waste words. He doesn’t need to. Instead, he just… starts showing up wherever you are.

“I got extra oxygen. Take it.”

“That dumbass White Blood Cell keeps hovering around you. He’s annoying.”

“You need anything? Sugar? ATP?”

He has no idea why he’s doing this. You’re just a normal cell. So, what's wrong with him?

———

♡ Yandere! Nerve Cell who runs the system like a cruel emperor, his influence spanning from the highest synaptic courts to the darkest spinal backstreets. His word is law. His impulse is execution. His control is absolute. He thrives in chaos, orchestrating the electrical storms that dictate every heartbeat, every breath, every whisper of sensation that slithers through the body’s vast empire. His voice commands movement, pleasure, pain—and he enjoys the latter far more than he should. If you're feeling a little too comfortable, he'll fix that.

♡ Yandere! Nerve Cell who rules with both unshakable authority and insatiable amusement, a tyrant clad in synaptic fire. His enemies are erased in an instant, lost to the vast abyss of neurotransmitter slaughterhouses where rogue signals go to die. He touches everything, feels everything—a god within the body, both feared and worshiped, his name whispered like an unspeakable curse. No one defies him. No one dares to.

♡ Yandere! Nerve Cell who thinks of himself as the mastermind behind everything. He’s the reason the body moves, thinks, breathes. Every reaction, every thought—it all comes from him. He doesn’t just exist in the body. He is the body.

♡ Yandere! Nerve Cell who operates at lightning speed, sending signals faster than anyone can react. He is the architect of every twitch, every instinct, every pleasure and pain. He can shut down an organ on a whim. Make a limb useless. Flood the bloodstream with stress or dopamine. His power is absolute, and he knows it.

♡ Yandere! Nerve Cell who is a sadist in every sense of the word. He enjoys overstimulation. He enjoys pushing the body to its limits, making pain linger just a little longer than necessary. He could make agony last for days or disappear in an instant. It all depends on his mood.

♡ Yandere! Nerve Cell who is convinced he is the most powerful being in the entire body, and he’s right. The brain is just an over-glorified think tank. The limbs, mere puppets. The heart? Beating only because he permits it.

♡ Yandere! Nerve Cell who is instantly, completely obsessed with you the moment he registers your existence. He doesn’t know why. Something about you sets his receptors alight. You’re… intriguing. The way you process information, the way you interact with others. There’s something off about you, and that’s what makes it so delicious.

♡ Yandere! Nerve Cell who delights in messing with you. He doesn’t touch you—not physically—but his presence alone is suffocating. He sends electric signals just a little too close to you. He lingers at synapses, watching your reactions with an amused smirk.

“You’re different,” he murmurs, voice a low hum of neurotransmitters firing with amusement. “I can tell. I know things, you see.”

You stare back at him, utterly unimpressed.

And he likes it.

———

♡ Yandere! Sperm Cell who is the last surviving remnant of an apocalyptic battlefield. A soldier from a war waged with billions, a king among dead men. Unlike the others, he lived. He reached the final gate, clawed his way past the carnage of fallen brothers, and found himself alone in a kingdom meant for only one.

♡ Yandere! Sperm Cell who is obsessed with victory, purpose, and legacy. He was born to conquer, born to rule, and even in the silence of his domain, he remains restless. He was built for war, after all. His instincts demand another battlefield, another conquest, another war worth fighting. He doesn’t just want to win—he needs to.

♡ Yandere! Sperm Cell who is disturbingly patient. He waits. He watches. He knows when to strike, when to push forward, when to seize the opportunity. He has a single purpose, a single drive, a single goal. And nothing—nothing—will stop him from achieving it.

♡ Yandere! Sperm Cell who is a self-righteous, holier-than-thou elitist, parading around with the smug assurance that he is destined for greatness. Among billions, only one will reach the ovum—only one will achieve immortality. And if that isn’t a god complex waiting to happen, nothing is.

♡ Yandere! Sperm Cell who sees the world through a lens of inevitability. He is special. Chosen. Designed for something higher. His entire life is a race, a battle for dominance. Every interaction is another step toward the grand victory that is fertilization.

♡ Yandere! Sperm Cell who decides that you—you—are the most fascinating thing he’s ever encountered. You’re intelligent, calculating, eerily calm. You’re not like the other cells. You’re… superior. And he is the only one worthy of you.

♡ Yandere! Sperm Cell who goes on long, arrogant monologues about his greatness. He’s the elite. The progenitor of future generations. You should be honored to have his attention.

“Don’t look at the Red Blood Cell like that. He’s beneath you. Beneath us.”

“What do you mean I don’t ‘own’ you? We’re meant to be. Biologically speaking.”

“Stop talking to the White Blood Cell. I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

He doesn’t know what it is about you that makes him so unhinged. All he knows is that you’re the only thing in this body worth his time.

———

You were never supposed to exist. Not like this. Not in a body that functioned under strict regulations, ruled by laws of survival and duty. You were a mistake—a single deviation in the grand machine of biological order. And yet, you thrived.

You had always known what you were. It was funny, in a morbid way. How long had you been living among them? Playing the role of a good, obedient cell, masquerading as one of their own? The white blood cells had welcomed you, the red blood cells had carried you along in the river of their endless, tireless work. The nerve cells whispered secrets to you, never questioning why you could listen. Even the sperm cells, arrogant and self-righteous in his pursuit of singular purpose, had never doubted your existence.

They were fools. Every single one of them.

The body was an empire built on routine, blind loyalty, and unquestioned servitude. You had watched them, day after day, rushing through their little lives, following their preordained purposes like insects in a hive. White Blood Cells slaughtered invaders without hesitation. Red Blood Cells carried their burdens without complaint. Nerve Cells transmitted information without bias. Sperm Cells—well, they had one job, and they did it with single-minded determination.

And then there was you.

The anomaly.

The rogue element.

The cancer.

A cell that did not die when it was meant to. A cell that did not follow orders, did not bow to the greater good of the body. A cell that refused to perish, that replicated beyond necessity, multiplying, growing, consuming.

You had smiled at them. Laughed with them. Played along, a cog in their great system, their trusted neighbor.

And all the while, you had been spreading.

They didn’t know. Not yet. But soon, they would.

You had built an empire of your own. A hidden kingdom in the dark, beneath the surface of their perfect, controlled world. A tumor swelling in the shadows, waiting, watching. An army of yourself, thriving, multiplying, waiting for the moment to consume everything they held dear.

They loved you. They trusted you. Some of them even obsessed over you.

How tragic. How hilarious.

The truth was, the body had already lost. They just didn’t know it yet.

You tilt your head, observing the world you had infiltrated with a quiet, eerie amusement. The White Blood Cell who adored you, the Red Blood Cell who protected you, the Nerve Cell who worshipped you, the Sperm Cell who sought to claim you—they were all insignificant now.

Because soon, there would be nothing left but you.

After all, what is a body to a cancer?

♡ A/N. Yes, the cells have sexes here. This is fiction.

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on this post. Thank you.

General TAG LIST of “Whispers In The Dark”: @keisocool , @elvabeth , @elloredef , @mjsjshhd , @lem-hhn , @yuki-istired , @lilyalone , @starryperson , @yandreams-storageblog , @tiffyisme3760 , @songbirdgardensworld , @yune1337 , @mocalocha , @astreaaaaaa6 , @poopooindamouf , @yandereaficionado , @esther-kpopstan , @iris-arcadia , @hopingtocleaemedschool , @doncellaescarlata , @futuristicxie

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ For Reader-Inserts. I only write Male Yandere x Female (Fem.) Reader (heterosexual couple). No LGBTQ+:

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Book 2. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World.

♡ Book 4 [you are here]. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

♡ Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams.

♡ Library MASTERPOST 1. The Librarian’s Ledger: A Map to The Library of Forbidden Texts.

♡ Notice #1. Not all stories are included in the masterpost due to Tumblr’s link limitations. However, most long-form stories can be found here. If you're searching for a specific yandere or theme, this guide will help you navigate The Library of Forbidden Texts. Proceed with caution

♡ Book 6. The Red Ledger (TRL): Stained in Lust, Written in Blood.

♡ Notice #2. This masterlist is strictly for non-con smut and serves as an exercise in refining erotic horror writing. Comments that reduce my work to mere sexual gratification, thirst, or casual simping will not be tolerated. If your response is primarily thirst-driven, keep it to yourself—repeated violations may result in blocking. Read the RULES before engaging. The tag list is reserved for followers I trust to respect my boundaries; being included is a privilege, not a right. You may request to be added, but I will decide based on trust and adherence to my guidelines. I also reserve the right to remove anyone at any time if their engagement becomes inappropriate.

[greenflamedwriter]

The official Story for "I'm the Protagonist, Bitch!" is on A03 :D

If the critique is for the ao3 version I am sad to hear that, I am dsylexic or sometimes I run over my sentences and forgot my point as I'm writing as I lose my train of thought. I would ask someone to help but I kinda get territorial over my work or my inner perfectionist comes out.

But if it's the Tumblr version above, I have to apologise but the reason the typos/inarticulate writing is because tumblr is my soundboard.

I write in Tumblr drafts itself and it's all my ideas just vomited on a text post and the more people like it, I then re-write it up on my google docs and put it on a03- that is the final place and the cleaned up version.

it's unfair for people on tumblr but I don't see this platform as a place for my fanfic just the ideas for it, and I try to be loose and put all my ideas down (least I forget them I'm worse than airplane) or I want to keep adding to them that flexability is how I post so many works on this blog.

This isn't the first complaint, its a valid criticism of my writing - however I tend to leave the perfectionism on my a03 account if I had to make sure my 'draft 'pilot fic' was perfect I wouldn't be posting at all and every story I wrote or spitball would be gathering dust in y drafts never to see the light of day.

To fix this I will post the link to the official a03 so people can read the stuff on here as a prompt then find the official story online and make it easier if they want to see what happens next.

But if it's my a03 stories? Yeah I don't have time for that, if I was getting paid then I will absolutely make sure it's perfect, but I'm not winning best seller nobel prize for a fanfic people will read for free. And this isn't a response- this is for everyone who feels the same I'm happy people love my stories but it's my vent and escape and I'm not going to make it another reason for stress if I can help it.

(I wrote this here in case others were in the same boat but didn't want to be rude, it's okay to be disasified with how I write or theres some pet peeves believe me re-reading my own work I get it so it's all cool)

I'm the protagonist, bitch!

What if SY transmigrated as Luo Binghe and had to go through the main trials and abuse under the scum villain Shen Qingqiu?

And in typical SY fashion, ends up deluding himself and no longer cares what Sqq is doing? Since Luo Binghe knows he's going to go into literal hell everything sqq does seem tame in comparison? He starts thinking "If being whipped is making me cry...how will I be when I lose a limb in the abyss!?"

Then he starts seeing this as inpromptu training, he gives SQQ the peerless cucumber roast of a lifetime JUST to get more punishment! He has to get stronger!

And of course in true Scum villain fashion, SQQ backs off and starts treating LBH as a disciple and just ignores him.

This is grossley unfair!

Shen Yuan AS Luo Binghe.

 So SY transmigrates as Luo Binghe and already doesnt feel comfortable as a grown ass man taking wives who were mostly Binghes age with the occasional milf thrown in there. So he decides fuck it, he’ll get stronger deal with he abyss when he gets to it and at first wanted revenge on SQQ then decided it was too much hassle. He just wanted to be left alone. But the scum villain keeps bothering him, and actually seems to like him- why? What changed!? The hell!?

-SY transmigrates as Luo Binghe.

Has the horror that as the protagonist his lufe is a living hell, continous tortourous chores, being whipped and beaten for the tiniest offense how will a millenial survive!

[Welcome Host you can you up! As the protagonist you are the workds child and no lasting harm will befall you-]

“Yeah but I’ll still be harmed.”

[An over powered protagnosit at the start if his journey is too unrealistic.

 Tasks for hosts are;

Create a harem.

Fall into the endless abyss.

Take revenge on Shen Qingqiu.

Merge the realms!]

“I dont want to do any if that!”

[System has heard users complaints and sees that Host will only do one scenario!]

Oh thank god

[System has taken the liberty of choosing the task- endless abyss arc!]

You fuck!

-SY stole a manual. If he wanted to survive the abyss he had to be stronger. Having an unstable core will do him no favours…

So far he was able to keep his head down but realised something. When he first transmigrated the first thing that happened he was beaten. And it hurt.

Then he was whipped and it hurt but…

Luo Binghe was going into the abyss- even with his demon blood awakened he would face a ton of horrors and so much pain his own arm ripped of.

“A-lou? You look pale,” His shiejie spoke placing a hand over his head.

 If he wanted to survive he would have to build up his pain tolerence…

Steadying his rabid heartbeat Luo Binghe smiled.

“This one is fine.”

He purposfully acts out, and tried not to cry- it was just intimidating okay! That he was being whipped while his Shizun supervised-

Did Shen Qjngqiu really have to sit there and watch the sadistic fuck!

Even so, he built himself up stronger.

He accidently proposed to Ming fan that he had no intention of seeing Ning Yinying that way as she was like a sister.

But seeing a man bully someone they percoeved as their little brother how would you react? If Ming Fan acted kind to Binghe he could also hang oht with Ning Yingying.

 “You can have one on one time with Ning Yingying, she’ll be happy that we’re getting along.”

“You just want me to help with your chores-“

“Of course not. This one will do extra and Ning Yingying likes to talk or gets bored easily you can stop and play with her instead.”

And just like that he matchmaked the two, and had all the wood chopping to himself.

It was frustrating coming from a modern eorld you’d think he knew hie to get stronger.

But that was all er-ge. He knew the difference between working out and only looking like a model but was weak and unfit. Meanwhile people who gained weight and looked bigger were often stronger.

Even so, Luo Binghe used the kitchens to his advantage while eating he would study and in his own time would train even dyring the night.

 And if he felt tired he would purposfully sleep in during his Shizuns lessons.

Extra points for snowing loudly.

Of course he rejoiced in the day he no longer felt pain on his back. He even told Shen Qingqiu himself that what point was the punishment if he now felt nothing?

So now he had to sit on pins, hanging off the mountain and not fall to his death because his arms got tired.

 Even so it’d make him stronger.

“Ah binghe can you take this to Peak Lord Shen?”

He blinked then stared at the food. 

And he suddenly had a wicked idea.

He may not want revenge kn his scumbag shizun, even though he deserved it. Lucky for him he was so lazy!

 But this would be the most sweetest revenge.

He decided to take the food up for Shen Qingqiu passing it to Mong Fan.

 “What are you doing with Shizuns food?”

“I was already in the kitchen, while the cooks told me to bring it.”

Ming Fan looked suspicious and Luo Binghe held the urge to roll his eyes.

“You can taste test it if you eant although, Shizun wont be pleased by the delay.”

To be fair, Shizun never ate. He never slept either. The only time he oerked was when he went doen the mountain. He sure had an addiction.

Luo Binghe almost said nothing then remembered he needed to get in trouble and punished!

 “Visiting the brothel, again, Shizun?”

The other gaped at his audacity, to be fair, Shen Qingqiu could kick him of the mountain, but after reassuring with the system that would never happen.

 Shen Qingqiu paused and only glanced back, cold eyes sneering down at Luo Binghe.

 Luo Binghe shivered, he sure was the scum villain alright, so scary!

Such a waste of good looks too.

 “Luo Binghe to the wood shed.”

He bowed, “Yes, Shizun.”

Unknwowing that to others he was practically going whth a slring in his step.

“Why do you rebel against your master so? Are you a glutton for punishment?”

Luo Binghe was forced to kneel before Shen Qingqiu, his legs bloodied and skin torn.

 The original goods would’ve broken Shen Qingqius legs for that.

But kneoing he may lose a leg in the endless abyss he was fine with it.

 “This disciple has nothing but respect for Shen Qjngqiu.”

Hah as if! He wished for nothing but Shen Qingqius castration!

 “This disciple is aware how…behind he is compared to everybody else and only wishes to be stronger. After being whipped to the point of no linger feeling pain?”

He missed the wide eyes of Shen Qjngqiu as he kept speaking.

 “This disciple knows many more trails are to come and this one has to be stronger to face them. So far the punishments have given this Binghe so much thatvhe can’t hope to ever repay. But as the years passed noticed less punishments…”

It was strange usually this was when Qjngqiu got worse.

“This Binghe never wanted to lose all that progress and so…to continue this disciple had to…escalate such things to get what I wanted.”

When he glanced up he blanched, he’d never seen Shen Qingqiu look so enraged!

Luo Binghe realised what he said then bowed, face red in shame.

“This disciple apologises! He should have spoken with Shizun first! And never went about his own training in such a way! This disciple was wrong!”

“Oh, so now you understand?”

Easy for you! Binghe was focused on survivng the abyss! Not your ego! 

 “It seems this Shizun was rewarding such behaviour. Are you truly a masochist?”

Shen Qingqiu used his foot to raise Luo Binghes chin from the floor!

Luo Binghe kept hos face impassive the only thing giving him away was a small twitch.

 He did not want that type of attention from his scumbag Shizun! God damn it!

“N-no Shizun this lowly one only wanted-“

The foot moved, and before Binghe could even relax, Shen Qingqiu rose as he stepped on his head pushing him intk the floor, Luo Binghe turned his nose just in time befkre it made contact.

He grunted, unable to move. Only riding it out until his scum Shizun got it out of his system. But this sucked.

 “What a degenrate beast, thinking he can take advantage of his Shizun. You don’t care aboht getting stronger only using that as an axcuse to get away with being disrespectful.”

Luo Binghe opened his mouth then closed it, to be fair…Luo Binghe did enjoy being able to clap back and roast Shen Qingqiu and even being beaten bloody and blue he thought-

Worth it!

Shen Qingqiu noticed then pushed his foot down harder.

Luo Binghe scowled.

 “With this type of punishment sometimes wonder werher you get off on this, Shizun.”

Shen Qingqiu paused, “What did you say?”

“Visiting all those brothels, and favouring Ning Yingying so, what if sineone where to walk in right now and see this, wouldn’t they jump to conclusions?”

Shen Qingqiu gripped his fan- ha a reaction! Even the original goods had never made him break his fan!

Luo Binghe wanted a record, lips twitching.

 “Whose the degenerate now? Pervert Shizun.” 

 Shen Qingqiu grabbed his hair yanking it back then slammed him into the floor.

 It was too quick to hurt.

All Luo Binghe knew was the blood pouring down his nose all over Shizuns lamenated flooring.

 “Clean yourself up. Then come back and clean this mess and if this stains this master will,”

Luo Binghe looked up at him tiredly, raisng an eyebrow.

 He’ll what? Beat him, burn him?

Kill him?

Ha! he can try he’s the motherfucking protagonist!

 Shen Qingqiu paused, eyes narrowing and Luo Binghe had to inwardly cackle.

Ha he did it! He broke Shen Qingqiu!

 Who knew his tried and true method of pissing of trolls online was apathy and not caring! Peerless cucumber for the win!

 Luo Binghe bowed, “if that’ll be all Shizun, this Binghe will return to clean his mess.”

That you made, he left unsaid.

After that things went…wrong.

Shen Qingqiu ignored him.

No one bullied him, no one hit him. Even when Luo Binghe poured tea all over Shen Qingqius head, it was scalding hot too!

He wasn’t punished.

No. No. No. no-

 The endless abyss was only a year away! 

And are you freaking kidding me! What wanting to get punished made Shen Qingqiu finally act like a decent Shizun!?

That asshole.

Whenever he saw him Luo Binghe couldn’t help but glare his scowl darkening and saw the smug bastards smirk.

 It was awful, Luo Binghe was so used to being on the attack and on guard.

So now he jumped at the slighest sound, thank god no one was there to see him flinch away from a bunny!

And his workload was depleted! He barely had any chores and suddenly realised he had so much free time!

Damn that scumbag!

 Its funny, the lriginal goods would give his left leg to be treated this way…as an actual disciple of Qing Jing Peak and yet…

 It felt wrong. Luo Binghe was completely thrown off it almost affected his appetite!

…

Wait.

Luo Binghe paused, the endless abyss was a matter of survival.

He was going to have to get used to not drinking water or finding food as well as fighting.

 Luo Binghe, who was going through the motions as he sparred with the rest of the disciples, going through the qing jing peak forms-

He never did before, too busy doing chores to never realise his manual was fake.

…he could’ve went to Mu Qingfang but knew his meridians were healthy and could easily be called a liar.

So he instead left two manuals on Shen Qingqius desk and wrote in the best caligraphy to ever grace the earth;

“I know this is a fake asshole.”

Of course Luo Binghes writing was awful in lessons! But now that Shen Qingqiu was no longer punishing him. Luo Binghe didnt hold back or doodle anymore.

Instead writing as many pages as he could neatly and was done befkre the glass.

The only irritation when Shen Qingqiu realised was a slight eye twitch.

 As well as other lessons, easily able to create the object they were supposed to paint before Shen Qingqiu could even critisice him Luo Binghe beat him to it.

 “The perspective is off and the bounce light is coming from the wrong direction. This disciple apologises for wasting paint.” He spoke in a bored tone.

The other disciples whose work was way worse felt themselves drop in shame.

If Luo Binghes was bad how in the fuck where they going to compete!?

 With all this three time, he decided to spend every moment in the library and study demonic beasts.

His memory was good and he of course knew every single weakness how cluld he not? The monsters were the only redemable thing in PIDW.

Poor Binghe he deserved better!

 He could train with Liu Qingge? Maybe say hey my Shizun is better than you and I can prove it fight me!

 Huh thats a plan. 

But the fact that Liu Qingge was alive was weird, after asking around it turns out Shang Qinghua had something to do with that…

 It was strange- but he didnt have time for that he had to focus! And being hungry was really making it hard.

Even so better doing this now in an enviroment where the wkrst thing that can happen is him collapsing.

Other than the abyss where he might end up dying.

 His head was splitting, he could barely sleep because of the pain.

  There had to be good spots in the abyss for water but airplane skipped it!

Oh no the porn was more improtant than survival! Dumb fuck!

Even so, he had to be lerfect in class, as well as remain consistent in his spars and able to face off against disciples.

And he was doing great! He wasnt hungry as much he could still fight okay the headaches he had grown used to so its fine!

 If he couldn’t fight hand to hand with a freakin disciple then how the fuck was he going to last one day in the abyss!

What Luo Binghe didnt know was he was the world child and the abyss wouldn’t be so bad in the sense it was supposed to make him stronger.

In the original story, Luo Binghe only clawed his way out for his hatred for Shen Qingqiu.

The system was very aware that this Luo Binghe…had no ambition.

 With nothing to keep him motivated, Luo Binghe may give up and so the system had no choice but to make the abyss easier.

Although technically it wasn’t unlike the original goods who was tossed in unprepared, terrible base, and ignorant.

This Luo Binghe has been training so of course it was going to be easier.

 But seriously host was damaging himself!

Luo Binghe, was panting harshly, his hands weak.

 He had to pace himself.

He knew his stomach would shrink if he stopped eating, he couldnt over indulge or he might hurt hinself or his stkmach might explode.

He had to get used to smaller bites.

 And learn how to ration food.

It got to the point where even Shen Qingqius food which used to smell heavenly just smelled.

It was still good. But he didnt want to eat it.

He knew logically his food tasted good, he just didnt care for it.

 When he delivered placing it down before his Shizun.

 Remebering the time Shizun found out his meals were cooked by Binghe! Was pricless he looked like he could cough up blood! 

The truth cane out when Binghes hands were injured, and of course he couldn’t train so he bawled telling Shizun not his hands how will he cook for him!?

 Thats when Shen Qjngqiu found out, and he had the most darkest mood ever.

The disciples of course took it out on Binghe, then he remembered oh yeah, Luo Binghe lost a limb in the abyss! Ergo more training!

So he was able to dodge and fight his way out with just his legs!

The fact that he was in a tree when Shen Qingqiu found him, with a ton of disciples tormening him he almkst laughed at Shen Qingqius face!

 Oh if only he still had a cellphone.

Ah if only his hands could work and take one too!

Instead Luo Binghe decided to paint Shen Qingqiu and it had to be his best work yet!

He had to admit it was the only healthy way to get the aggresion out his system. 

Art was therapytic no matter what Qingqiu said!

 And his woodshed was…covered.

On one hand he wanted to hide them, on the other?

He wanted someone to see and get pissed and punish him for it.

Now, Luo Binghe thought bored, he never gets punished. He was starting to miss it.

 doodling another Shen Qingqiu, his fault for being so handsome!

He drew Ming fan occasionally as well as the other male disciples.

Ying shijie always pouted that he never drew her as his french girl.

But he couldn’t!

Knowing the relationship the two had, anything could trigger a romance he did t want to risk it!

Men were safer!

He just said drawing ugly people was better to learn, Ning Yingying is too lretty unfortunatly!

She flushed then decided to say nothing else.

 Even so, Ming Fan was growing into his looks, he wasnt as gokd looking as Binghe but he no longer looked like an awful mini Scum.

 Luo Binghe was so tired he found his limbs shaking.

 His clothes were too big and he kept tripping on them.

And his head was pounding.

 One foot then-

He blinked his eyes open to see a ceiling, what?

 He tried to get up until a hand grabbed his head and lushed him back down.

Luo Binghe yelped, looking up to see Shen Qingqius dark face.

What? Was he upset Binghe was still alive? Well sorry oh great and bountiful Shizun this Binghe will try harder next time!

Shen Qingqius lips twitched into a sneer.

“Luo Shizi. Please don’t try to kill yourself no matter how much you want praise from someone.”

 Luo Binghe blanched, did he say that outloud?

“Now, might want me to explain why Luo Shizi is neglecting hinself?”

Mu Qingfang asked sktging before Luo Binghe.

It was…weird seeing two peaklords staring him down…

“Um, This Binghe wanted to be prepared in case…at any point found himself somewhere with no food or water and had to survive.”

He spoke, it was a very valid fear! Anything can happen to a cultivator!

“Why would you think that would happen to you- to take such an extreme risk such as this, to prevent it?”

 Luo Binghe’s eyes flickered to Shen Qingqiu for a split second but it was enough to make Shen Qingqiu snap.

“You really believe this Lord will do that to you?”

Luo Binghe stared at him and Shen Qingqiu looked more annoyed.

“Stop looking at me like that!”

Like what? Was he pulling a face?

(He was, he always gave Shen Qingqiu that look when he thought the kfher was being fumb)

“Luo Shizu has Shen Qingqiu done something to make you act this way, has he hurt you?”

“No.”

Both spoke at the same time, Shen Qingqiu looked surprised at Luo Binghe who stared straight ahead at Mu Qingfang.

 “This Binghe, has never been harmed by Shizun. In fact this one has been spoiled! This Binghe only wants to get stronger and prove that Shizun didnt make a mistake in making me his disciple!”

Mu Qingfang melted “Oh Shizi, you don't have to prove yourself. Afterall most of the peak knows that you are a gifted young student!”

Now Luo Binghe paused, sorry what? Since when!?

 “So theres no need to push yourself. You are a growing boy! And developing an eating disorder in this stage could damage your cultivation!”

Luo Binghe blinked, well…no it won't matter to a heavenly demon.

To a human sure, maybe but he was the protagonist he would be fine!

“Shen Qingqiu, you’ll have to watch him.”

Oh sweet! Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t give a shit! As long as Luo Binghe was careful and ate a little bit he wouldn’t collapse and be more careful he should be fine!

Both noticed Luo Binghe perk, Mu Qingfang felt something ease to know how much the disciples loved their Shizun.

Meanwhile Shen Qingqiu gave the other a narrowed eyed stare on why the thought of Shen Qingqiu watching him would being him delight?

As soon as they walked back to Qing Jing Peak, Luo Binghe turned in the direction of the wood shed to continue reading his books until he choked as the back of his collar was tugged yanking him back.

 “Where do you think you’re going?”

Shen Qingqiu asked, lightly fanning his face while holding Binghe by the scruff like a misbehaving dog.

 “My…room?”

Shen Qingqiu’s eyes twitched.

“You really believe this lord is going to leave you unsupervised?”

Luo Binghe gave him that look again.

 And Shen Qingqiu’s first impulse was to slap him.

 He held back, knowing his wayward disciple probably enjoyed that!

“Since this Shizun has been so neglectful of his poor student,” 

Luo Binghe twitched, tensing up waiting for the guillotine.

What was his Shizun up to?

 “This Lord will have to personally take care of you hinself.”

Luo Binghe blinked then froze.

Shit.

Shit!

He had no idea this could happen- but to be fair he thought his Shizun would bite off his own tongue rather than pretend to be caring for someone like Binghe!

 “From now on you will be living with me in the side room at the bamboo house.”

If Shen Qingqiu wasn’t holding him Luo Binghe would’ve fell on his ass.

 What?

“Come on, what meagee things did you need at your room that you were in a hurry to get?”

Luo Bknghe grit his teeth and had to turn stiffly as he walked towards the wood shed and entered.

Shen Qingqiu stayed at the doorway not entering, and instead watching Luo Binghe gather his books and manual.

 He checked the contents making sure it wasn't another fake one the shoved it in a quirken pouch.

 He wasn't stupid or had an eating disorder for christ's sake!

 He just could be reliant on constant fokd only to die of something silly like starvation or hunger day 3 in the abyss!

 And Shen Qingqiu did not even comment on the wood shed being his room other than the dorms.

The bastard.

 “I’m ready, Shizun.”

Instead Shen Qingqiu didn't move, baring his exit while he stood on the doorway.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

 His eyes flickered to the back wall.

…that was full of his paintings and charcoal sketches of Shen Qingqiu and…others.

Okay sure after fighting Liu Qingge he had to draw him too!

 Luo Binghe didn't move.

“The disciples can use it as tinder for the fire if needed. So why move them?”

 Luo Binghe tilted his head, “And Shizun does not expect this disciple to live in the side room for the next foreseeable future this Binghe will return back to the woodshed in no time so why move them?” He asked, tilting his head to the side.

Shen Qingqku snapped his fan shut and turned with a flourish of his robes.

How unfair, Binghe was still in his disciple era and can't do that yet.

 With each step he followed Shen Qingqiu to his new home, mulish expression on his face.

  The other disciples scowled darkly at him in envy.

Afterall its the first time any one other than the head disciple had been so close to the peak lord.

 Luo Binghe went straight to the side room and started tidying.

 He’ll have to sort out the linen sheets and wash them, dust, then wipe the floor, open the window for ventilation-

 He ended up washing the sheets outside and once they were dry with a tailsman he brought then back then paused to see his room was done.

Somebody had already cleaned and wiped down the floor.

The window was open allowing a nice cool breeze in the warn room.

“Ming Fan had finished your room. All you have to do is put your things away. You are under direct orders from Mu Qingfang not to over exert yourself.”

Luo Binghe scowled “Yes, Shizun.” 

It was a nightmare.

His Shizun would demand lunch and watch Luo Binghe eat then would make sure he didn't go to the bathroom to throw it up-

Like he would!

 Shen Qjngqiu even told him to stop eating when he seemed to realise it was too much for Binghes recovering stomach before even he knew.

 Even so he was monitored, made sure he slept and didn't read well into the night.

When Shen Qingqiu learned this he ended up tying Binghe in immortal binding cables and laying him in bed.

 Shen Qjngqiu was more aggrieved to learn that's why he was sleeping through his lessons.

 He couldn’t train as much, and usually Luo Binghe would act cool and aloof.

 But this was killing him.

Ming Fan was taking some sick delight out of this he knew it.

 And Luo Binghe’s temper was growing short, the immortal alliance was coming up soon and with the way this was going he was not going to survive.

 [Host! In order to complete the endless abyss arc- user has to prove he can enter the immortal alliance conference or he may be dropped from the list!]

…what?

“I- I can skil the abyss?”

[Luo Binghe must enter the abyss. Failure to do so Hkst will be ejected from his body and restored to the original one]

Luo Binghe blinked, placing a hand over his chest at the thought.

 He had to get better or he wont jump to his possible death?

What was the point?

 Luo Binghe clutched his arms, and made himself smaller in the room.

Okay. Okay he can deal with this.

The next morning, Luo Binghe felt as if he was run over by a truck.

 His emotions were all over the place… probably from his fucked up diet. 

 He glanced up at Shen Qingqiu who ate with poise.

Mu Qingfang told him it was better if Binghe ate with someone. And that someone had to be his scumbag shizun.

He really didn't understand him…you'd think he’d encourage this type of behaviour? 

 “Stop staring and eat your food, mongrel.”

What a dick.

Luo Binghe was pushing his food around and forced himself to take a bite.

“Shizun?”

“What.”

Luo Binghe stared down at his food.

“If this disciple regulated his eating habits only to then fall back into the same habits later down in the future- what would happen?”

“You would die.”

Shit-fuck!

“So this disciple should stop eating now instead-“

He was hot with a fan.

It was less painful that anything Shen Qingqiu has done to him before. It just surprised him.

 “Why prepare for something that may never happen? Why not just build your own grave then lie in it and be done with it? Theres no point wasting this masters time by making you a disciple just to watch you throw it away. You can’t be trusted, that is no longer your body. It’s mine, not one scratch, not one bruise and not one bone protruding without my say so.”

Luo Binghe scowled down at his food.

So now he cares? 

 “This one can still function as a disciple discreetly if you're worried about what others think. Contrary to popular belief I don't want to die.”

Shen Qingqiu looked unimpressed,

“Then what do you call this? Do you miss those punishments so much you would reduce yourself to self harm?”

Luo Binghe blinked, “Self harm? This is only to get stronger, now this Binghe can function without headaches after skipping meals compared to before-“

“Stop.” Shen Qingqiu really looked irritated.

“You are a cultivator, if you don't want to eat work on your core instead, so you have inedia.”

He would but Meng Mo told him if he pushes his core anymore his demonic cultivation will throw it out of balance. So far he’s been working on building that up. 

 By the systems calculations he wouldn’t be able to unlock that ability for the abyss.

To make it more angsty for the readers.

For fucks sake.

So now he was back at square one. Couldn’t train like before and had to go back to the same amount of chores as the others. Finishing quicker but befkre he could even help Shen Qingqiu would aopear like his fucking shadow and punish the ones Luo Binghe helped.

Shen Qingqiu realised he was fine with punishments but when others got hurt on his account Luo Binghe would back off!

Why!?

The original Luo Binghe would be ecstatjc to have such a kind and caring Shizun! But he had to wonder what the fuck changed!?

 Luo Binghe in PIDW did everything to get Shizuns approval but was kicked into the abyss for it! He was punished for breathing!

Now Luo Binghe would give anything to chop wood till his fingers bled or feel the burn of the whip on his back!

And it wasn’t weird he was just under stimulated! 

 He needed to do something!

So he ended up in the kitchen aggressively cooking deserts.

 And it smelled nice.

He already over cooked a ton to feed the entire peak!

He sighed after pulling out his last batch.

 May as well give them out, wouldn’t want to waste food.

“Strange how you can cook such delicious foods yet treat them so callously.”

Luo Binghe flinched, fuck me!

He didn't even hear the devil come in!

Luo Binghe glared, another thing he would’ve been punished for, and yet Shen Qingqiu only seemed amused by it.

…was his Shizun bipolar or what!?

 Luo Binghe glanced away.

“This disciple was only stress baking, I bought the ingredients myself so it's not wasting Qing Jing Peaks resources.”

 Shen Qingqiu picked up one of the steam pead flour cakes he just baked and tasted it.

 Luo Binghe waited for the verdict.

 He hoped Shen Qingqiu wasn’t going to make him eat all this food he may actually develop an ED if he did.

“Eat this.”

Luo Binghe fucking called it.

Before he could even reach for one, Shen Qingqiu pushed the food towards his mouth, Luo Binghe had to eat otherwise it would make a mess.

 Suddenly flavour exploded on his tongue.

It tasted so good, of course it was the protagonist cooking!

 He slowly chewed  then swallowed it.

 “How did it taste?”

“Good.”

What was Shen Qingqiu getting at?

“So what is the problem,”

Luo Binghe tilted his head. Was it bothering him that much that Binghe refused food?

 “Its not the taste of the food. Its the fear that I’ll grow so dependent on it and find that I suddenly cant have it.”

“But getting stronger and studying beasts, what's the point in that if you run your body into the ground.”

Luo Binghe had enough, throwing the tray of food to the side.

“Why do you suddenly care!? You whipped me because I talked back but you dont do that now- I starved in that wood shed you never cared, my back was bloody my hands mangled you did not care. So why start now? You may be fine with acting like the kind Shizun. The great Xiu ya Peak Lord Shen, but excuse me for not buying it. For waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

 So what will it be next? After this would it be sleeping? Is that going to be our new thing once this is done? How many mkre ways do you need to torture me.”

“You torture yourself. I did nothing.”

Yet.

But he will throw Luo Binghe of a cliff into the abyss to kill him.

 “You hurt yourself then blame me. You enjoyed those punishments as training, so I stopped realising it was teaching you the wrong lesson. You’re different from other disciples, stupid. To think this is how any respectable cultivator would train-“

“I’m not a cultivator.” Luo Binghe spoke tiredly, looking at Shen Qingqiu with a bored expression on his face.

 It riled Shen Qingqiu up.

“This one was an unwanted disciple, a waste. All because Ning Shiejie wanted a shidi and you wanted to win one over Liu Qingge. Because he wanted me first.”

 Shen Qingqius eyes widened and Luo Binghe looked down.

“You never wanted this disciple, and this Binghe is fine with that. But after giving me a fake cultivation manual, making me fight elder hammer with posion that could kill me. How can you blame this one for flinching waiting for a third blow?”

Shen Qingqiu looked shocked that Luo Binghe even knew that much.

He walked past, ignoring the food plans of distributing it around the peak forgotten.

 Luo Binghe sat before Shen Qingqiu. Forgetting that he had to eat with the devil.

The only thing that gets Luo Binghe through the day is karma.

Everytime something unfortunate happens to Shen Qingqiu (who had such unfortunate luck) 

 He would bare witness to it.

Being bested in a duel by Qi Qingqi. He ended up cheering her on the loudest.

 Seeing Shen Qingqiu try to practise sword fighting and making a huge hole in qing jing peak.

He acted like he did it on purpose but Luk Bknghe was fascinated by his tells and knew the man was embarrassed.

Dropping a tea kettle on his foot he even hopped up and down with a yelp.

That was the best one!

Thoughts like that got him through.

He ate mindlessly not tasting anything. And had to stop when his stomach ached. 

“Keep eating.”

Luo Binghe paused, “What?”

“Keep eating. After all this Shizun is cruel and would force poor Binghe to starve so keep eating.”

What a petty bitch.

 Luo Binghe did staring right at Shen Qingqiu and kept eating. Until his bowl was finished.

His stomach was killing him.

But he ignored it.

 Then he began to swallow more, saliva pooling in his mouth, and-

Luo Binghes eyes widened, he dropped his bowl into the floor and lunged for the bathroom, even Shen Qingqiu flinched at the breakneck speed then grimaced when he heard Luo Binghe throw up.

 Luo Binghe didnt eat the next day.

And Shen Qingqiu was begging to lose his temper.

“If you don’t eat properlly you’re not going to the immortal alliance conference!”

God dammit!

 Luo Binghe had to admit defeat.

He had half a year left, it would make it more difficult but he had no choice.

 He started slow, eating fruits out in the open after training where everyone would see.

Starting off small.

 Sharing snacks and eating them himself, and when it came to big meals, would still leave food left but not as much as before.

Its fine, when he’s in the abyss he knows what to expect.

 He faces monsters in the beginning, has to keep moving into the centre where he finally finds some springs for water, but no food. Maybe he can prepare a quirken pouch to take supplies.

After all what if water is stored in things, like plants, or trees or even rocks!

It can happen!

 If he has tools to store water, and food and make it last then thats eight out of ten problems.

 Then theres madam meiyans adventures with the succubus clan…hmm, he really wants to skip it.

Losing his first time in an abyss is not the best place, but he would need new clothes…

He had no idea while he was recovering eating, passing Mu Qingfangs bill of health.

 Everyone even peaklords praised Shen Qingqiu for being there for his disciple and helping him through somethimg so trying.

It pissed him off.

No one gave a shut ablut his eating habits, he sweats mu Qingfangs care for his own disciple than his fellow maritial sibling.

 And Shen Qingqiu knew Luo Binghe.

That look in his face when he was alone, the anxiety, and panic before settling down.

 It was refreshing. Before Luo Binghe would always show that fake smile and act friendly but underneath Shen Qjngqku knew something was wrong with the kid.

The relief when he finally showed his true colours and stopped pretending.

If its one thing, Shen Qingqiu hates its liars.

 But no, Luo Binghe may be showing signs he was okay maybe he really is over this bad habit.

 But now its when a new habit appears.

He mentioned sleeping so now Shen Qingqiu is more vigilant making sure he goes to bed on time and stops studying those demon books.

Why is Binghe even writing notes on how to defeat a monty python rhino? 

 He’s too young to be fighting that- he was given a list on what to fight in the alliance why was he studying something else!?

“Maybe he’s trying to copy you?”

Shen Qingqiu paused, lowering the tea cup from his lips.

“Excuse me?”

Mu Qingfang only looked at him cooly.

 “Its not a secret that Shen Qingqiu doesnt sleep, is a bright young man but is weak in his cultivation, and is too skinny.”

Shen Qingqiu scowled. “Thats ludicrous and untrue. He’s never went to a brothel.”

So there!

“Not yet, maybe it’ll happen in time.”

“Why would Binghe copy me?”

“Most do, to someone they respect, or idolise. Maybe wanted to understand you better.”

No. Mu Qingfang is definitely wrong at this.

“Binghe is making his own mistakes. He’s not following mine.”

Mu Qingfang hummed, “Its only a theory, unless he starts showing…signs. Maybe you might have to have the talk.”

Shen Qingqku stared then his eyes narrowed “Certainly not. That's the hallmasters job!” 

“Maybe there's a lot of things he doesn't know-“

“He had a mother. She would’ve told him.”

…

“What?”

As Luo Binghe came back ho- the bamboo house he wanted to collapse onto his bed.

 He wanted to skip dinner so bad but he had to eat now.

Like a respectful adult ugh! 

 “Binghe!”

“I have moon cakes! I’m eating moon cakes from Ning Yingying!”

He snapped back, he just got into bed! Now he had to stomp because Shizun would want him face to face.

The typical parent yelling for their kid then not answering when they respond.

 “Not that, impertinent brat. Sit.”

Luo Binghe sat. What? What could his bipolar Shizun want now?

 “If you visit brothels or make nong yingying pregnant I will castrate you,”

Whoa- what!?

Luo Binghe blinked “Shizun, this disciple must have hit his head at sparring today and didnt hear you right. Can you please repeat that?”

What the fuck?

Shen QingQiu sneered down at him.

 “Someone brought to my attention that you like to copy me.”

Luo Binghe started looking around and Shen Qingqiu scowled.

“What are you doing.”

“Looking for my fan. But I can’t seem to find it.”

As well as tge stick up my ass but thats not there either so clearly he’s not copying!

“Being a recluse, hiding away from others and assuming the worst of others and your strange relationship with food then you mentioned sleeping habits….”

Luo Binghe glanced back up, surprised.

 Even Shen Qingqiu…?

Luo Binghe glanced back down then realised where Shen Qingqiu was going with this-

“I don't need the talk!” He yelped face red. He did not-

He stood up walking away.

 “I’m not copying you- I’m not going to end up in a brothel with tons of women-!”

Although original Binghe would’ve-

That wasnt him!

He wasnt interested in a harem! Maybe find some girl settle down study beasts get a bet one.

Oh how cool would that be?

The protagonist with a giant fucking wolf as his companion?

Yeah a big heckin chihuahua. 

 Luo Binghe had to start cooking something or he was going to go nuts.

 …Shen Qingqiubeas seriously starting ti scare him.

When his diet was back to normal, his workout began again. And now he was studying arrays.

 Fucking stupid, he was.

Why didn't he think of this before? Keeping food hot or frozen to last longer.

And even have inside pockets so he wint lose his shit willy nilly!

He soent all his tike studying, and sewing and-

Bang!

Most of it exploded in his face.

“Shizun!”

“Don’t tell Shizun!”

It was an accident! It wasn’t on purpose!

But Nong Yingying snitched and now he had to go over sewing techniques and arrary work with the hallmaster again.

 And when they saw what he was trying to make they laughed. Claiming it was impossible.

Luo Binghe gree mullish, fuck you he’s the protagonist he can fucking do it!

 After hiding away from prying eyed and working on smaller fabrics was able to make a heating AND freezing charm.

He experimented with cold foods first to see if they stayed frozen in the pouch then crowed with delight that it worked!

Now to make it bigger!

 And just like that he was able to store large amounts of food in his pouch oldest at the friend newest at the back sk nothing got too spoiled.

 He was so giddy.

After making tons of pouches and even showing them off and how they worked and why they existed.

Shen Qingqiu cleared his throat.

 “Write your progress into a report. We’ll place your findings in the library with the rest.”

Huh…huh!?

“And Binghe.”

Luo Binghe stood at attention as Shen Qingqiu gazed down at him.

“You are approved to go to the immortal alliance. Do not disappoint me.”

 What oh- oh fuck YES!

-he wanted to ditch these disciples why join kf they’re going to struggle!?

Then the demons arrive! About time! Ah these were mich better to fight than the easy ones!

Even the spiders were easy!

 “Everyone! There is a snow flower that is a deterent to demons! Up this way!”

Once they were safe did Luo Binghe sigh with relief.

 At least now, its all on him.

“I’ll go find help!”

He left the disciples before they could utter a word.

Now alone all he had to do was wander aimlessly until the abyss opened.

 He was nervous, like exams, dentist, and blood tests all into one.

 He just wanted it over with. As soon as he was in the abyss the better.

 “Binghe.”

“Fu- Shizun!?” He nearly died- what the hell? 

Oh yeah, Shizun was supposed to toss him in.

 “What is Shizun doing here?”

Shen Qingqiu scowled, “Rescuing disciples such as yourself. Come on.”

Mobei-jun comes in, and Luo Binghe feels his hands shaking as he watched as Shang Qinghua was hit into a tree.

 This was wrong.

Shen Qingqiu was actually fighting a demon and telling Binghe to run?

“Hmm, what a weak cultivator.”

Shen Qingqiu growled, “You demonic spawn- this Peak Lord is the Xiu ya sword! And you will fall by my blade!”

Shizun was hurt.

Shen Qingqiu evaded the most of the ice crystals, but was pinned to a tree by a viscious one.

Shen Qingqiu may die.

Luo Binghe moved, not even aware just lunging for the ice demon with a yell, swiping his sword down.

 He’d forgotten all of his training, only using his bare hands as Mobei-jun looked at him with interest.

“Binghe- run stupid boy!”

Luo Binghe wasn’t paying attention, instead he evaded even getting slammed into the ground, almost breaking his arm he ignored it, until Mobei-jun grabbed his head.

“Hmm, human but not.”

Wait- the monty python…

Luo Binghes eyes widened as a clawed hand reached towards his face, he screamed at the pure agony in his forehead as he was dropped to the floor. 

 He clutched his skull feeling the mark of sin burn into his forehead his whole body becoming liquid fire when his demonic core burned through his meridians along side his spirtual veins.

 Luo Binghe panted, fuck he felt awful.

Mobei-jun replaced the rhino… why was it different?

“Beast.”

Luo Binghe looked up, eyes drooped and out of it. Until a sword touched his neck.

Luo Binghe stiffened, remembering where he was and what he was supposed to do.

“Shizun? Want to tell me what your doing?”

“Who are you calling Shizun, demon mutt?”

Ah back to pet names huh? Luo Binghe hummed, “This disciple is just as surprised as you.”

He glanced to the side and saw Zheng Lang destroyed.

 “Shizun, can you do this one a favour?”

“No.”

Luo Binghe shifted back, and stood up, Shen Qingqiu held his sword high, green eyes almost black with the dark scowl on his face.

 Luo Binghe took another step back, then another.

  His eyes remained on his sword, he really…wanted to take the sword with him…having a sword would be easier in the abyss now he can’t.

He missed the wide eyes look of his Shizun, missed the panic as Binghe took another step back.

 “Shizun, can you fix my sword? Say…Luo Binghe died…a human.”

Shen Qingqkus eyes widened, his sword faltering, as Luo Binghe took another step back.

 Then felt the ledge under his foot and paused.

 “This one has always trained for this…You were never a good Shizun, but this past year…” Luo Binghe turned to look down at the abyss, his chest suddenly tightening, it was terrifying, he was scared. Who wouldn’t be?

 He was procrastinating at this point, the timer ticking down.

 “I think I might miss you. Shen Qingqiu.” Luo Binghe smiled, showing all his teeth no different to how he looked before he did something to piss Shen Qingqiu off.

Then he fell, falling back into the abyss, eyes squeezed tight breathing heavily to hold in his scream.

 The rift shut with a snap.

Leaving Shen Qingqiu with his hand held out, eyes wide in shock.

 He fell to his knees, wounded, in pain…and numb.

All this time he wanted to do away with that brat, he dreamed off it-

Now?

“Shen Qingqiu!”

“Shen-Shidi!”

His eyes slid over to the broken sword…he moved and began to pick up the pieces.

 He may as well honour that brat. And do this one thing for him.

____________

Luo Binghe almost collapsed against the broken stairway, almost there.

 He lost track of time of how long he was in the abyss. He barely had time to think or feel, just respond to each attack and survive.

The only reprieve was when he found a little oasis when the system would pipe up.

 And tell him hints with b-points that he earned in the development arc Disciple days.

Luo Binghe almost slumped with relief, food and water was scarce, it was worse than Qing Jing Peak, he knew if he woke up he would be halfway down a beasts mouth.

 -gets a dog

-loses a dog

System makes him go to madam meiyan.

“You upled the difficulty on purpose!?”

[stop doing side quests and go to madam meiyan! You need new clothes and then you can get Xin Mo!]

Luo Binghe paused, Xin Mo?

“Why didn’t you say so?”

Like an autistic stuck in a closet and forgotten about, Luo Binghe was actually getting used to the abyss.

 But after the loss of Pear…

Yeah, he wanted to call him mini peerless cucumber but that was a mouthful in the abyss. But he wanted it affiliated wkth fruit and thought Pear was a good name.

 When Pear was ripped to shreds in front of him, Binghe drove off any cute baby animal that got too close.

He thought that as the protagonist- he really wanted to go home with lear, watch him get bigger and be an intimadating badass!

 The system knew he was dodging basic Luo Binghe plots and waa dojng his own thing so to give him angst it decided to make him break down.

Losing his pet, his one stability, his confirt in this wasteland. Shen Qingqiu never betrayed him, so he had to accept loss in one way or another.

It just sucked!

And so after finally trudging up to Madam Meiyan, reluctently, then felt bad because she was nice.

He told her he didnt want anything to happen in the abyss, not until he was safe.

 She patged his hand yet still helped him get new clothes.

She didnt act like the femme fatale side fling of Luo Binghe. She acted like a caring older sister.

He slumped in gratitude, and finally adorned the black and red robes.

He checked himsekf oht in the mirror lerking up. 

Now that is a protagonist!

 Complete lady killer! But not in this world!

Luo Binghe, as a reader, always thought if at any point he would have to marry?

It’d be Liu mingyan.

She was smart, strong and cool. Best girl.

 Even so Madam Meiyan was so kind, it almost made Luo Binghe cry.

 Even so, he couldn’t stay in the den long, thats just inviting disaster.

 He began his journey again, rationing his food and thankful that other than the beggining, at least food was no loner scarce and he could eat and not have to worry.

 [That could also be inedia]

Or that too!

Even so, the monsters had to get stronger thats how you level up!

And Luo Binghe wasted no time grinding he wasnt a newb!

He was going to keep fighti bf every single demon he could lay his on to get stronger.

 [Host is procastinating to avoid Xin Mo]

He was not!

…maybe- even so he needed duel cultivation to deal with it.

And he didnt want to deal with it.

So when he finally made it up the stairwell, leaning heavily on the wall and leaving blood and ichor on the pale stone,

He saw Xin Mo in tge centre of the room.

 Before he was scared, now he had to get over it.

 He beat his training, he was literally having a vacation in the abyss, after Xin Mo magbe that will no linger be a problem.

He approached extending his hand and grasped the handle.

Quiet.

Then a sudden flood of screams, intense rage and anger swarmed into him.

He grimaced falling to his knees, breathing his throat aching when he realised he was screaming too.

[Host! Soend b-points to temper Xin Mo?]

Yes yes a hundred times yes!

The screams didnt stop, but dulled down to a feint baackgfound noise.

God how did Luo Binghe deal with this.

He raised his arm and sliced downwards into an arc and a portal opened up.

Luo Binghe gazed at it like the first sunset honest delight on his face.

He didnt think it would work the first time!

 As he stepped through the portal still open he glanced at the sword and three it back into the portal.

“Yeet.”

Instead it slung back missing his neck to slam into the tree behind him.

The portal closed.

[Host and Xin Mo are bonded for life. Only destrkying Xin Mo can release its hold.]

Luo Binghe brushed a hand over his face, really?

At least that was his new goal. Destroy Xin Mo.

The system even had the nerve to make that as a bullet point on his list lf tasks.

[What else will host do now that he’s free?]

Well other than the abyss, he didnt have to do the other plot points.

 He didnt have to return to cang Qiong. Or even go to Huan Hua.

 He coukd just wander PIDW to his hearts content and fight monsters, rescue damsels, without marrying them.

It sounds like a dream-

[Warning! Character arrival! Task: defeat important character!]

Mobei-jun appeared even seeming surprised to see Luo Binghe.

What? Why? Why!?

[To fix plot holes ;)]

You tricked me!

Luo Binghe leaped back, evading Mobei-Jun attack- it was weird.

How weaker Mobei-Jun was.

He could kill him, just use Xin Mo and sate it for now…but Mobei-Jun was a loyal fighter…

And he wont be able to spar with Liu-Shishu again. As Luo Binghe kept dodging, considering expression on his face, he was unaware it kept pissing off Mobei-Jun.

“Take this seriously!”

Oh? Ah he was being rude. Compared to when he was a child, he was easily slammed into the ground.

Luo Binghes claws extended as he grabbed Mobei-Jun by the throat and slammed him into the ground.

Mobei-Jun grunted eyes wide to see Luo Binghe straddling on top of him heavenly sigil glowing with red demonic eyes looking down at Mobei-Jun like he was an interesting bug he decided to play with knstead of squish into the dirt beneith his biot.

“Do you lield and swear your loyalty to me, or should this one kill you know and save myself ghe trouble?”

Mobei-Jun swallowed eyes bright.

“This one will follow you, Junshang.”

[Congragulations! Luo Binghe is now a lord! Next task- defeat the saintess Sha Hualing to claim title as demon emporoer!]

Luo Binghe stood up leaving Mobei-Jun on the ground, onlivious to the ice kings new sexual awakening-  

And stared at the system.

“Are you telling me that I HAVE to do those plots?”

[Yes! Become a demon emporer! And also be adopted into Huan Hua! Investigate plot points! Revenge on Shen Qingqiu is optional!]

Oh?

[Merging the realms is also optional!]

Hmm.

Even so, the reason Luo Binghe merged the realms was because of paper work.

 He’ll need people, unlike the og Binghe who couldn’t trust anyone and had to hold his empire himself but also going on adventures and picking up flowers every five minutes? Garunteed his rule wouldn’t be great especially since Mobei-Jun kills his spy who also HAPPENED to be tge advisor.

 “Mobei-Jun.” He glanced over, time to start planning.

 “Not to be a pain, but this Binghe is tired. Can you be accomidating and give me a room? Prefferbly in your northern palace of course.”

Mobei-Jun looked stiff then nodded with a small bow.

“Of course Junshang.”

He opened up a portal and and was soon making his way to his new home.

Luo Binghe never liked the cold, in his former life or this one.

 But he’ll have to deal.

____

First order of buisness after dealing wkth Mobei-Juns unruly court.

 Linguang-Jun had to go.

Any infatuation Mobei-Jun had fizzled. Luo Binghe only sneered down at the blood smear of what was left of his uncle and said.

“Just some cannon fodder who didnt add to the plot, bound to backstab for further gain when given the chance.”

He had a point but still.

Then he demaded to see Shang Qinghua.

“Relax, Mobei. This lord only wants to reunite with his precious Shang-Shishu.”

Mobei-Jun kelt giving excuses, making Shamg Qinghua overworked on purpose so he would never meet their ecentric demon Lord.

Luo Binghe must have grown tired breaking Mobei-Juns hand and warning him that he was being polite but now enough was enough.

The three kf them sat at a table together, Luo Binghe spread like king, relaxed. A contrast to both Qinghua and Mobei-Jun who sat stiffly.

“So your the spy who ruined the immortal alliance and backstabbed Cang Qiong to align with demons! Never knew you had it in you Shishu!”

Shang Qinghua looked like he was going to vomit.

 Hmm, the man was always…different.

More cold. And evil.

This guy was a gerbil.

“Hmm, first order of buisness. Mobei-Jun.” Luo Binghe looked up glaring at him.

“No killing Shang Qinghua. No matter what, even if he betrays yourself or this Lord being him to me to punish, understood?”

That seemed to surprise both.

“J-Junshang? Thank you for the order on my behalf, but ks there any reaoson…to…”

Shang Qinghua lost his vouce the more Luo Binghe stared at him.

What? Whys he so scared for- he doesnt know me yet or how string I am-

[Host has a resting scary face]

That was just cruel.

“This lord…likes paperwork.” Luo Binghe spoke aving his sleeves and moving forward to pour tea.

 “Its calming, helps keep my thoughts organised. Excessive paper work, redundent paper work, incompetant paperwork is something I’d rather not do. If this lord plans on conquering the south or even plans on dessimating Huan Hua-“

Here Shang Qinghua twitched.

Other times he would’ve missed it.

But in the abyss any movement reflects so much.

“Havkng a base in the human realm and demon realm garuntess my hands will be full. Shang Qinghua is managing the northern realm as well as Cang qiong. Someone that competant will lighten the load.”

After making the tea he sliced his hand calmly watching the blood pour into the cup.

 He saw from the corner of his eye, Shang Qinghua breath hitched, his face pale.

“Here Shishu, drink. Swear your loyalty to this demon lord.”

He wondered why Luo Binghe never did this to his close subordinates in the first place.

Make sure he’d never get betrayed and reward people under his emply with healing beneifts.

Join Luo Binghe we have health care!

“Hmm, why so hesitent Shang-Shishu. You wont bettay this lord so what worry is there?”

Shang Qimghua gulped then grabbed the cup chugging it down.

Luo Binghe laced his fingers together as he gazed at Qinghua.

“Hmm? Does Shang Qinghua know something?”

Shang Qinghua was back to his pale trembling self.

 “N-no Junshang. This Qinghua knows nothing.”

…he’s lying.

Luo Binghe dropped the playful act and tilted his head.

Shang Qinghua immedietly started sweating buckets.

“Do you like reading Shang Qinghua?”

The other nodded “Y-yeah?”

Hmm.

“Theres a book this lord can’t stand, the worst literay piece ever known to man. I regret laying my eyes on such drivel. Its called Proud Immortal Demon way, has Shang Qinghua heard of it?”

It was instant, Shamg Qinghua almlst stopped breathing.

“Yes.”

Luo Binghe felt himself relax, and in turn Shang Qinghua looked like his strings were snapped.

Luo Binghe almost felt nad for him.

“Yes I didnt like that story, so I decided to change a few things in it.”

Shang Qinghua began to oerk.

And in turn Mobei-Jun began to glower-

Itvwas strange woth how a fee words he had Qinghua relaxing and leaning in closer.

 Mobei-Jun would’ve guessed it was the blood but he felt no different.

…or maybe…

No. He felt no different.

Of course when Shang Qinghua came running to him screaming he of course hid him out the way until it was junshang trucking towards them.

“Airplane!”

“Ah dont kill me!”

Mobei-Jun stood stiff “Mobei-Jun get out kf my way.”

“No killing Qinghua. Your order.”

Luo Binghe blinked then scowled at Qinghua who stuck his tongue out at him.

The killing intent was string even Mobei-Jun almlst buckled from it.

Luo Binghe scowled “Fine!”

“If I wanted to kill you, I would’ve used my blood parasites dipshkt.”

“Oh yeah.”

“Hmm hmm.”

“Your inside me-“

“What? Ew why are you like this!?”

A/n:

Shen Yuan: Luo Binghe was influenced by Xin Mo it wasnt his fault.

Shen Yuan as Luo Binghe with Xin Mo: does nothing inappropriote and is a distinguished gentlemen.

-Shen Qingqiu trial

Luo Binghe wanted nothing to do with the scumbag and just let the consequences of his actions continue their course.

 As Luo Binghe was investigating the origins if his parents (since the system was adament ablut it for some reason) he didnt think his inlut mattered.

 But then  it was his reputation that came into it.

 He realised he should have….maybe…thought this through.

 “Is it true that Shen Qingqiu abused his disciples?”

 If it was one thing, Luo Binghe wanted to be fair. Shen Qingqiu never abused him, but he may have murdered Qui Haitangs brother.

But if Luo Binghe expressed nothing was wrong then the whole cultivation world will see him as a backstabbing disciple!

 Luo Binghe was also…curious, why the original goods never invaded both dreams to see what really happened. Verify the evidence so to say.

 “This Binghe has his own personal reasons to remain here at Huan Hua.”

Not to mention, Shen Qingqiu could blackmail him as being a heavenly demon.

 Luo Binghe already felt like he could t relax and retire not with this threat looming at him.

“And Shen Qingqiu has never abused me.”

Here he saw Shen Qingqius twitch, and ignored it.

 “But his past with Qui Haitang is something I am unfamiliar with.” He could tell the tide was changing against him.

 To stand aside while his Shizun was being condemned? How unfilial.

“And so this Binghe has decided to personally investigate this case as a neutral party.”

Qui Haitang looked his way-

“What!? So you can hide evidence and help your scumbag Shizun!?” She yelled and Luo Binghe spoke.

“On the contrary, a rogue cultivator claiming a Peak Lord had murdered her entire family with only servants to survive? Where are such servants why is there not more witnessed to confirm this case? This could just as easily paint you Miss Haitang in a poor light with just the right defense.”

Luo Binghe gave her his best charming look, hoping to give off friendly big brother vibes to aplease her.

“Dont worry Miss Haitang. This Binghe will only uncover the truth on what happened that night and help you find peace.”

[Congragulations! +50 Charisma points for Miss Haitang! Possible love arc begin-]

No no no- it wasnt- no! Cancel love arc CANCEL!

-uses his dreams and finds out the truth from both.

Speaks to Shen Qingqiu in the water prison.

Hunts down servants. Who are scarred and reveal the abuse of Qui Jianlou and his crimes. How they speak kindly lf Shen Qingqiu who got them out.

 How Luo Binghe accidently saved Shen Qinqqiu-

“Why help this Master? It can’t be because you want to play the part pf a loving disciple? After all,”

Shen Qinqgiu leaned close, speaking softly so others wouldn’t hear.

“This master tried to kill you three times after all.”

Luo Binghe smiled, “This Binghe knew he had bigger threats to face, after knowing the trials I had to overcome…you didn’t seem that scary all of a sudden. And this Binghe knows of worse things to come that taking revenge on my scum Shizun seems like a waste of time to me.”

After Luo Binghe removed the red immortal binding cables, tenderly holding Shen Qingqius hand and unwrapping each rope, his eyes furrowed at how thin Shen Qingqius wrists had become. Shen Qinqqiu had lost weight-

“Luo-Shizi.” Luo Binghe straightened, “ah Sect Leader Yue!” He bowed hastily.

“Apologies, this unfilial disciple never meant to disrespect Cang Qiong mountain-“

Instead the sect leader took his hands and made Luo Binghe look up, the look on his face was stra ge and made Luo Binghe uncomfortable.

And the worst thing happened.

The sect leader bowed to him!

“It was Cang Qiong who has done a great disservice to Luo Binghe.” Everyone in the room heard such a thing, Huan Hua bristled but all the lthers practically hungered for the drama.

 “That we had failed in such a way that you felt that you couldn’t return and felt undeserving. Cang Qiong doors will always be open to Luo Binghe, he doesnt have to prove his worth or fear rejection to come home.”

Oh- oh!

 He had to admit, Yue Qingyuan was similar to him, killing them with kindness. Making it seem as if they were the perfect sect family outside, and creating this humble narrative that Luo Binghe didnt deviate and spit on Cang Qiong but it was in fact a simple miscommunication!

 Then Shen Qingqiu spoke as well, “Yes. Qing Jing Peak is your home, unless Luo Binghe doesn’t want to return to the mountain that took him in?”

Oh, now everyone was watching Luo Binghe.

 But…they both could accuse him of being a demon, so why not use that instead?

Even so, both of them were looking at him expectantly, they all were.

“This Luo Binghe is grateful, and relieved to know that his worries were unnescary and that Cang Qiong still accepts me.”

Shen Qingqiu smirked, looking like he was about to win- until…

“But this Binghe is ungrateful. Huan Hua took me in after I was injured and this one wanted to repay that debt, maybe even foster good relations to both sects. And further more…This Binghe wanted to learn more about his past, the Luo River is closer to Huan Hua where I was born and wanted to learn about my past.”

 Luo Binghe gave them both beseaching looks.

“Can this one still stay at Huan Hua until I find the answers I am looking for?”

Shen Qingqiu looked annoyed, the Palace Master even inturupted.

“Yes! Why Luo Binghe was forced to find sanctuary here and never returned to Cang Qiong is a mystery! And Shen Qinqgiu! You claimed he had died at the immortal alliance!”

Shen Qinqqiu gritted his teeth, and the others became more rowdy.

 “Luo Binghe will remain here, until he feels comfortable speaking the truth and has no fear of the power and influence both of you have.”

Luo Binghe was touched this father figure was coming to his aid, but he couldn’t be more wrong, he was a demon emporer. He had a lot of power and influence.

________

“Afterall I’m the scum Shizun! And you are the victim! Always blaming me when in reality you hurt yourself,” luo Binghe paused huh?

 “What? No- never ind that.” Why was Shen Qingqiu upset anyway? “Look I’m at Huan Hua now, far away from you. And we can both pretend the other doesn't exist!” Then Luo Binghe paused.

“What are you doing taking missions so close to Huan Hua in the first place?”

Shen Qinqgiu ignored him.

 “What this master does with his own time is his own buisness.”

Okay.

Even so, Luo Binghe figured Madam Meiyan may help with Xin Mo, he can only spend so many b-points on suppressing it, but if it acted up in Huan Hua he may accidently trigger a papapa scene with one of the women and he didnt need that!

Why was it that no matter what mission and what he wanted to do, Shen Qingqiu was there!?

Always in trouble, always causing trouble, really playing the petty scum villain and being an overall pain in the neck!

Xin Mo kept telling Luo Binghe to just kill him and one of these days he may just listen to it!

 -wife plot with SQQ

 He had no idea why, Luo Binghe was on his way to another peak to investigate his mothers origins Meng Mo found a lead of a familair disciple who knew Binghes ‘mother’

Also the imposter syndrome he figured Origianal goods would lose face but this Luo Binghe was only looking into the plot, if his parents were alive he doubted they would be close, 

_____________________

And this is where I lost steam and had no idea what to write next, that LBH/sy is ignoring sqq and focusing on himself but when the others in trouble he goes "Ah well its the scum villain who cares...but I have to ask questions I'm the protagonist, and I want to ask questions about this plothole and such-" accidently uncovers Sqq past and reveals it was self-defense.

Whoops?

Now SQQ wants Luo Binghe back at Cang Qiong NOT because he cares about the little beast- it looks bad on HIM as a Peak Lord that he has some unruly disciple avoiding his peak like he's some abused little maiden running away from her husband.

Shen Qingqiu would break his fan at the thought, that little brat loved it! Shen Qingqiu has never raised a hand to the beast in years!

Luo Binghe even claims he hates him, that he's a scum Shizun and never cared so why does Binghe go out of his way to save Shen Qingqiu? instead of washing his hands of him, it doesn't make sense....

_______________________

Yeah I do want SQQ and Binghe to be end game, like SY is fascinated by SQQ as a character and has more interest in him than the women of the harem.

[egophiliac]

so have you heard about the ride kamens app game? seems like it's gonna be a twisted wonderland like game with all the riders being hot anime guys now, and it's also gonna be written by yuya takahashi and produced by naomi takebe (apparently it was in development before geats), with designs by the person who did sk8 the infinity, so take that for what you will

have you ever gotten the feeling that a piece of media came into existence just to appeal to you specifically, or

(brb preregistering immediately)

(as far as I can tell you play as an agent who maintains a secret superhero base for riders in the basement of the rider-themed cafe that you run with your butler, and there's some other plot stuff going on but honestly I'm way past sold at this point, this sounds amazing)

[sasakisniko]

Romantic love and friendship love are not mutually exclusive and feeling one does not inherently cheapen or negate the other. There's a reason friends-to-lovers is such a popular ship type.

[kastukj]

Gosh the yuri potential in Devil Venerable is so good it’s actually gonna make me insane

[a-hermit-pining]

LADS Men When You Move in with Them

AN: Sorry for anyone who followed for jjk but that phase is over for now people. I am playing LADS and kinda obsessed so I just have to write about it. I'm still finishing main story so let me know if I'm off but this is just fluff for fun. I might just extend my househusband series for LADS bois.

Pairing: Lads boys x fem reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: How do LADS men react to reader moving in with them.

Xavier:

The second you’re out of sight, Xavier is on a mission. Your skincare collection? Compromised. Tiny vials of serums and creams vanish into his hands as he experiments, utterly fascinated by how good you always smell.

Did he scream when he mistook your fake lashes for worms? Yes. Would he ever admit to it? Absolutely not.

So don’t be surprised when your shampoo, conditioner, serums, and lotions start running out at an alarming rate. This other worldly prince will not hesitate.

Zayne:

Zayne, dressed in his eternal black-on-black, will take an unreasonably long time staring at his closet once you move in. Because next to his monochrome fits? Your colorful, glittery clothes. He’s fascinated. Maybe even a little in awe and jealous.

You might even catch him pulling out his secret stash of cardigans from the depths of the void, trying to match your vibe just a little.

Also? He loves watching you do your hair. The man is mesmerized by air wrap, loves running his fingers through freshly curled hair.

And his watch collection? Now proudly displayed next to your jewelry. (He's so cute istg ><)

Sylus:

Does the sudden invasion of cutesy decor completely wreck Sylus’ carefully curated aesthetic? Yes.

Does he resist it? Hell no.

Be it Hello Kitty blankets on his sleek black leather couch or tiny fairy garden decor in his study, Sylus lets your presence take over his space without a fight. A cute blanket is a cute blanket, perfectly good for cuddling.

Also, Mephisto? Number one fan of pecking at your shiny trinkets.

Rafayel:

Your foster kitten loves him.

Rafayel, the man who wants 'nothing to do with cats', suddenly finds himself the chosen one. The second you move in, the tiny gremlin attaches itself to him. Following him from room to room, napping in his studio, demanding attention with its judgmental little eyes.

And despite his dramatic sighs and endless complaints about your “vicious monster,” you know the truth.

Because one day, you catch Rafayel casually working while the kitten sleeps in his lap. And before he can argue, you adopt the little guy permanently.

(Oh, and you get another cat for yourself, because fair is fair.)

Caleb:

Caleb owns a ridiculous amount of tactical gear. More than you, even.

But never in his life did he think he’d see a penguin-themed holster.

Yes, he was aware of your growing plushie empire. No, he did not expect the theme to continue onto scabbards and grips.

And yet, here you are. And here he is. In awe.

Does he judge? Not at all. Does he join in? Absolutely.

He now owns matching sock complementary to your gear aesthetics.

Colonel in the streets, pookie in the sheets.

[mako-island-moon-pool]

Why am I flipping tf out over my roommate going into my room when I wasn't home and leaving a package on my bed it's literally not a big deal and they were trying to be helpful but I am shaking right now I should be happy I got my new favorite shirt but I'm so angry

[carebearbussy]

ᥫ᭡ thinking about heian era! sukuna having a heavy breeding kink, seemingly out of nowhere.

you bring up a mere idea at dinner, the conversation quickly turning normal, to you bringing up an idea he had never given a second thought to.

"do you ever want kids with me, 'kuna?"

you would ask him, innocently enough, a sickeningly sweet tone hidden beneath your words. but you would already know the answer to this question. he would look up at you, then back down at his food, annoyance pondering his mind. eating a slab of salmon sashimi, he took a bite, chewing slow enough to hint at his potential answer. placing down his chopsticks, he would look back up at you, scoffing to himself at your foolish inquiry.

"those small, annoying humans that require too much attention for their own good? no thank you, i have better things to attend to."

he says, focusing on the meal before him. but his thoughts soon get the best of him. and now that he thinks about it, he will need an heir eventually. and not only that, but what would you be like? as a mother specifically. you would require more attention than most of the time. which was something he secretly enjoyed indulging in, despite his negative reasoning towards infants. how would you look?

you would be more swollen than usual, you stomach would grow larger by day, your breasts will most definitely become more full by the day. the bigger picture, which was you, enticed him in a way. something about seeing you round with his child really had his head going.

and so thats how you ended up here, you knees tightly locked against your stomach, as sukuna absolutely plows into your already stuffed cunt.

this was the seventh time? eighth time? at this point, you couldn't keep track. but he had came wayyyy too many times more than an average man should be able to. it was excruciating, really, the whimpers leaving your mouth, his hands bringing your knees closer to your chest with every move of his hips.

his seed was leaking out of you, glop by glop, dripping down your bottom even more, as he kept going harder and rougher. splashes of your juices paired with his cum stained the bed, the squelching of your pussy becoming deafening with every smack of his heavy balls against the rim of your ass. and the tight grip he had on your locks wasn't helping his case.

"hah, you're gonna give your king his offspring? yeah? r' you gonna be a good little mother f'me? make me an heir?"

he asks, your head barely able to focus on anything other than trying to stay sane. you felt sooo full, but this apparently wasn't enough for sukuna, or his heavy urges to breed your sloppy cunt. you nod eagerly, not wanting him to go any harder than he already has. but with the way he kept abusing your womb, it seemed like you were enjoying it, as sukuna relishes in your facial expression, your eyes rolling back, your mouth hung open wide enough to stuff two of his free fingers in.

"you'd be such a good mother, so obedient too. you wanted to rile me up, didn't you? i'll give you what you want, woman."

moaning into his fingers, you swirl your tongue around his digits, making him hum contently. you try to focus your vision onto his eyes, but the way he pushed his chest further into yours, had you practically cross eyed. hitting a new angle, you felt yourself completely let go, officially adding onto your list of orgasms you had previously had that night.

he released his fingers from your mouth, a coat of your saliva stringing upon release. he ceases to pull out of you, instead letting himself nuzzle nicely into your warmth, releasing yet again inside of you, earning a whine of complaint on your behalf. he playfully slaps your cheek with his wet hand, trailing it down to your pussy, playing in the ring of his semen around his cock. you squirm slightly, as you watch him then bring his cum coated fingers up to your mouth, pushing them back inside your mouth, making you taste his seed, some of his cum pooling around your lips.

"does that taste good? i bet it does, since you seem to love my seed so much. i cant wait to see you so full, besides from right now, of course."

[gooobraghhh]

Somno as a way to brat tame is so underrated

Imagine a brat, tired from a long day of acting up, never truly giving in the whole time but they’re completely exhausted after putting up a fight for so long. They innocently fall asleep, proud of their defiance and you just let It happen because you know their training is about to start.

After a while, long enough to where they’re deeper in sleep, it’s all to easy to pull their clothes aside and start gently teasing wherever they’re most sensative. For some that might be their chest, but more commonly clit/ tdick/frenulum will do the trick. Carefully start circling it and tracing it up and down at a painfully slow pace. Normally this would be torturous but their sleeping body is gonna take whatever you want to give it, no complaints. Then just take your time and have patience. You get to enjoy the show of hearing their little soft breathy moans and seeing their face wince between whines. An honest expression of how good they feel, a refreshing change from the normal defiance and snarky comments.

The goal from here on out is just to tease them for as long as possible. Enjoy feeling as they get miserably hard or messy. You want to toy with them an amount they absolutely could not withstand if they were awake. Just be careful not to push them over the edge and actually let them cum, they need to ride that line for as long as possible. Once they’re sufficiently primed and you’ve gotten a good eye and earful of their embarrassing involuntary reactions just fix their clothes a bit and pretend to roll, or nudge into them in your sleep. Not so much that it’s obvious you’re doing it on purpose but just enough to wake them up inconspicuously.

If all goes well they’ll groggily get up and get hit by a wave of crippling arousal. Almost as if they’d been getting denied for hours. It’s hard to even rationally with how deliriously needy they feel but your brat will quickly realize they have a decision to make. Do they wake you up so you can help relieve them, or do they try to get themselves off without you knowing. Going back to bed is nearly impossible at this point so it’s going to be one or the other.

If they wake you up make sure to really rub their face in how embarrassing this is. Have them communicate in detail how desperate they are and make them beg, apologize and humiliate themselves for your help. They should be essentially broken by the beginning thanks to your hard work. You can either not mention that you toyed with them in their sleep and just start letting them believe they’re so much of a slut waking up desperately horny is a new trait they have or around the time you get them close to finishing you can tell them all the details of what you did, and how cutely they reacted, let them realize how easily they were trained to obediently come to you for relief.

If they try to get off themselves that works too. Just pretend to sleep while you listen carefully to their moans and whines. When they start getting more frequent and hectic, letting you know they’re close, simply wake up and catch them red handed. Then you get to tease and make fun of them for being so much of a pervert they tried to get off next to you while you weren’t awake. You’ll watch their face get all red and shy, a lot more pleasant than the usual defiance. Then they are faced with another decision, do they keep going and jerk off in-front of you like a depraved whore, or do they now start begging you for your help. I think that’s definitely the most humiliating combination of outcomes. But after all that teasing and almost getting close themselves, they’re just gonna be desperate for bodily relief, dignity at the wayside. You can really make them beg after that level of humiliation. Then you can hold how desperate they were over their head. After all, that was all of their own volition, as far as they know you didn’t do anything, only have themselves to blame. You can keep up consistent night training if you really want to ensure their obedience. generally just consider adding somno to your routine brat training, it really messes with their head more than most other methods and has them convinced they’re a total needy pervert.

[rae-writes]

angelic alteration

om brothers x reader

wc : 1.k

warnings: nsfw, corruption kink based

synopsis : when Solomon and Diavolo can't fix the problem, it's up to Mc

a/n : thought the angel event (og) could use some more spice so I poured my entire spice rack on it

“Mc…I’m afraid we have bad news.”

You sighed into the receiver, “Yeah? You guys can’t reverse the magic, can you?”

“Nope!” Solomon chirped cheerfully, “Diavolo and Michael’s magic mixed together too strongly for us to reverse ourselves. You’ll just have to wait for them to go back to normal, or…”

“Or…what?”

“Well, this is just a theory, but what if you just corrupted the angelic magic and forced their demonic sides back out?”

“Corrupted, huh..? I like the sound of that.”

†

“I can feel the magic trying to stop me…how. stupidly. annoying.” Lucifer accentuated each word of his complaint with a sharp thrust, face pinched in concentration as sweat beaded at his temple. 

He’d be damned if something as trivial as a hexed bracelet from the celestial realm kept him from indulging in you, the one temptation he would never dare ignore. 

Your nails dug crescent moons into his shoulders, thighs squeezing at his hips tightly as you moaned and panted beneath him. “Lu-ci-fer! S-slow d-own!” 

He growled and sped up in response, snapping his hips into you harshly, “How dare they try to turn me back? I am the Avatar. Of. Pride!” Once again, each word was accentuated with a thrust, making his cock hit deeper and deeper each time. 

And he was so fucking proud each time he had you a moaning mess underneath him, crying out his name, begging him not to stop— you made his sin flood his entire body every time. 

An electric charge cracked through the air for a brief second before the bangle broke in half, magic forcibly shattering under Lucifer’s sheer prowess. 

He grinned sharply, capturing your legs against your chest in a mating press as he went even harder. His wings shedded to black, spanning out proudly behind him as the halo melted down into his horns. 

“I’m going to ruin you, do you hear me? You’re not leaving this bed- not tonight, or in the morning, or maybe even until tomorrow afternoon…I’m keeping you until I’ve had my fill.”

†

The sight of Mammon’s blue eyes peering up while his mouth was busy pleasuring you had always been a pretty sight— the shimmering halo was only a little bonus this time. 

But you wanted his horns to hold onto. “Just like that, Mams…doing so well, pretty boy.” Your hips rocked over his mouth, grinning down at him with gold flickering in your eyes. 

He was all about giving now that the bangle had taken hold, which even before, Mammon always keened when you sat on his face and just used him. 

The second born was moaning and whining and whimpering against your skin as his tongue lapped up everything he could, “Mmph- like this? ‘M I doing good, Mc?” 

“Y-yeah, baby, fuck— so good…” you carded your fingers through Mammon’s hair, feeling him get more and more excited before you lifted up off his face. 

And he was absolutely distraught with the lack of your taste, desperate cry leaving him as he tried to chase after you. “No, no, no! Mc, please, come back— wasn’t done, wanna taste you still, wanna make you feel good, please!” 

The laugh you let out made him whine even louder, fingers gripping frantically at your thighs. It was like a switch flipped, magic being overtaken by his greed. 

His eyes flickered gold like yours, a whiny growl escaping him. He forced you on your back within a second, mouth working at you even more desperately now as he held you down and took what he wanted— and he wanted to make you cum. 

“Jus’ let me, please let me make you cum— you taste so good, Mc, I don’t wanna stop. Want you to scream my name and yank my hair, grip my horns, just give me more- more, more, more!” 

†

A small shriek left Levi when you rammed against his prostate, hiccuped cries of your name following. His back arched, wings flaring out behind him, making you hit even deeper spots inside of him. 

With his new attitude, he’d been letting everyone else spend time with you and he was finally feeling the built up envy creep along his spine, right beside the spikes of pleasure. 

“Aww…look at you. So sweet for me, huh? Why so shy, Levi? Wasn’t this what you meant about strengthening connections?” 

Garbled sounds left him, courtesy of your fingers stuffed in his mouth. His eyes rolled back, hands gripping at your hips desperately, though it wasn’t clear if he was pushing you away or pulling you closer.

“How am I gonna know I’m doing good if you don’t tell me, ‘vi? C’mon, sweet thing, tell me. Or do you not want me?” 

It was like you asked the unthinkable. A loud whine left him and his tail returned, knocking the halo right off his head before it coiled around your abdomen. 

“No! I want you, I want you so badly, please keep fucking me— don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop!” Diamond shaped scales scattered across his body as the magic wore out. 

You cooed, thrusting into him sharply, making his body lurch, “Good boy, Leviathan..” 

†

“Fuck!” Satan cries out, fingers digging into his white wings to try and keep them from fluttering. His back arched almost painfully, loudly begging you to keep going. 

“Oh, look at you…” the coos that left you made him flush red, giving you a great sense of satisfaction. This was the most he’d been riled up since putting that ridiculous bangle on.

Your thighs were burning at the unforgiving pace you were riding him at, beads of sweat splashing onto his skin, so you decided to change the game a little. 

“Come on, Tannie, if you want it, work for it.” You settled your weight on top of him, ceasing your movements as you cockwarmed him instead. 

A displeased growl comes from the back of his throat, eyes snapping open with a glowing green. “Mc, move! Please!” 

Slowly, the halo above his head began to flicker and dim before it shattered, dissipating in the air. Another growl escaped him as his wings followed suit, tail lashing out like a whip. 

“That’s it— c’mon-!” You gasped when he yanked you forwards, chest pressing against his as his tail locked you in place. The only sounds that could leave you now were broken moans as he fucked you almost viciously. 

“You know how I feel about you fucking. teasing. me. Feels good doesn’t it? Yeah? Cause I’m not stopping. ‘M not stopping until I physically can’t fuck you anymore— fuck, I needed you.” 

†

Unabashed moans echo off the walls of Asmo’s bathroom as the fifth born writhes under your touch. The sound of water sloshing makes his cheeks burn fiery red and the sound of you moaning back at him makes it even worse. 

“W-wait! You d-don’t have to— oh!” 

“Shh, Azzy…’m just taking care of you. You were so hard and aching…could see it even though you tried to hide under the water.” 

The white feathers ruffled with pleasure (slowly shedded away and turning back), hips jerking frantically to chase the pleasure. The bangle’s magic was completely buried under how hot you made him feel and the feeling of you licking along the edges of his leathery wings increased it ten fold. 

“Yes, Mc, like that— don’t stop, just like that, just like that!” Amso curled over on you, horns knocking against your shoulder as he cried out even louder. 

You fisted his cock harder and swiped your thumb over the tip relentlessly, “Yeah? Made you feel so good, you corrupted yourself, huh? Pretty little Azzy…come on, cum.” 

The squeal he let out cracked halfway through, broken cries of your name following like a mantra. His hand encased yours, making sure you didn’t stop jerking him off. 

“K-keep going, don’t stop! Wanna cum for you again ‘n again, gotta make up for when I was giving you away to the others, please, please, let me cum again for you!”

†

“H-haaah…ah! M-Mc…what’re you..o-oh..doing?” 

“You said it made you happier seeing others get to eat, so…” you hummed, licking your lips before digging your tongue back into the slit of his cock, “I’m just..enjoying my meal…” 

Beel had always lost his cool when you went down on him, finding your mouth to be too good at pleasuring him. The growl he let out was something only a demon could make. 

The glowing of the bangle did nothing to deter you— in fact, you only laughed and peered up at him with the red sin of gluttony swirling through your irises. With another hum, you enveloped his cock in your mouth and forced your head as far down as you could, swallowing around him. 

He tried so hard to not buck into your mouth or grip at your head as the magic worked to keep his ravenous nature at bay, but…that’s just not who he was anymore. 

“C’mon, Beelie…want you to cum in my mouth, I wanna taste you..pretty please? Let me have it…” 

A low groan fell past his lips, hips finally jerking up and accidentally making you choke. A rushed apology was given as his fingers tangled in your hair and gently guided your head at a faster pace. 

The beating of his insectual wings was rapid as he got closer, magic completely dissipating when he let out a sound akin to a small roar, grabbing at his own horns when he came. 

Watching you pull away with visibly stuffed cheeks, slowly working on swallowing it all (though drops still ran down your chin) made a sharp pang shoot through him. 

“Thank you…you always make me feel so good, Mc…but..now ‘m hungry. Let me return the favor..wanna taste you too.” 

†

“A-are you sure…this is o-okay?” Belphie chokes out quietly, hands pressing down on your hips to keep you pinned to the bed with your knees bent to your sides. 

Your fingers curl in the sheets, body lurching forward at each thrust, “yeah, ‘s okay— feels good, doesn’t it? You’re doing so good, Bel…” 

The clipped whines and gasps that Belphie was making made his cheeks flair with an embarrassed flush; but you were right. It felt so. fucking. good. And he didn’t think he ever wanted to stop. 

Through the pleasure, it was easy to ignore the glowing bangle on his wrist and the voice in the back of his head telling him that he should have more reservations- that he shouldn’t be doing this— that voice wasn’t even his. Belphie wanted this, he did! 

As your hands stretched back to claw at his lower stomach, you moaned out his name and wiggled your hips, begging him to go faster. 

“Please, Bel…know you can go f-faster than this, want you to fuck me— please, please, please! Don’t wan’ you to be an angel, want you to be my demon again-!” 

Magic cracked in the air, sending the hair on the back of your neck rising before a familiar tail curled around your stomach and yanked your lower half higher up, forcing your chest further into the mattress. 

The attic bed creaked with the force he slammed into you at, whines mixing with growls now; his horns pressed against your skin as he rested his forehead against your back, making it arch even more. 

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you senseless again? Couldn’t even go a couple days without having me play with you, fuck, you’re such a slut for me.”

[violetrainbow412-blog]

From hate to love… or something like that

Aegon II Targaryen x fem!reader

word count: 15.7k (sorrrryyyy)

warnings: arranged marriage, hate-to-love, mentions of rape, mentions of incest, mentions of suicidal thoughts, drinking alcohol, mommy issues, daddy issues, mentions of sex without love, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), porn with plot (but something cheap, tbh) and I probably forgot something but I think that makes it clear that this shit is not for minors, so MINORS DNI :)

A/N: I started this since the second season premiere started so if you find any canon-like scenes I completely promise it wasn't intentional. I also want to make it clear that you are responsible for what you read and if you don't like something please just let it go, that would be very kind of you!

And this doesn't make me team green at all, I'm a defender of the rightful queen to the death… it's just that her brother is too sexy to ignore 🫦

Enjoy!

taglist (who I thought might be interested): @barcelonaloverf1life @ilovequeen978

FIRST ACT: HATE

Finding a wife for Prince Aegon II was probably one of the most difficult tasks Alicent Hightower had to face.

The engagement with his sister Helaena had been broken after a more tempting offer for the princess, which would get them a permanent alliance with the Lannister house that they couldn’t refuse. Viserys himself had agreed to accept and the queen consort had no choice but to give her little daughter in marriage to a blonde lord. The problem was that her son was left without a fiancée.

Aemond didn't worry her, after all he was growing up quite quickly and she knew that he was more inclined to become a warrior than to fulfill his marital responsibilities. But Aegon, however, was a lost cause.

It was no secret that Alicent had always felt disappointed in her eldest son. He was careless, lazy, and a hopeless alcoholic, qualities that couldn’t be celebrated at all. Now that her beloved father had returned, the queen didn’t hesitate to consult him on the matter, hoping that the man had a solution for the problem that afflicted her, and together they analyzed what was the best option to unite the king's first-born son. Especially after, years ago, Rhaenyra and Daemon got married and moved to Dragonstone indefinitely.

“It must be someone we completely trust, someone who cannot dare to hurt us because they know that their blood is linked to ours.”

The Arryns were loyal to the future queen Rhaenyra and some of the houses south of Vale were too. The Westerlands was the richest section of the Seven Kingdoms and was already secured, so it seemed prudent to the king's hand to go for the next widest section: The Reach. The most formidable options within this area were the Hightower and the Tyrell. Obviously taking the first option would be a waste since the members of that house would support Aegon without complaint due to their kinship, so the decision was made with the direct heir of Highgarden.

King Viserys agreed to the idea without putting up many obstacles, since poppy milk clouded his judgment most of the time and also the affairs of his first son had never interested him much.

The union was sealed as soon as the deal was offered to Lyonel Tyrell, who was extremely happy to be able to assure his family a future with said marriage. It was thus that he gave you, his only daughter, to Prince Aegon II Targaryen.

And the second the boy saw you, he absolutely hated you.

He had come to the idea (very unpleasant, by the way) of marrying his younger sister and now that his mother was forcing him to marry a complete stranger, he couldn't be angrier. In a short time he would turn twenty and it seemed pathetic to him that at that point he would have to offer shows like those before the kingdom. Because the wedding wasn’t simple, of course, but thousands and thousands of guests were present at the banquet that Alicent forced the king to prepare, claiming by saying that he had done the same for Princess Rhaenyra's wedding.

“It is a pleasure to finally see each other, your grace. They have told me a lot about you”

You had said those precise words the first time you had met, when his mother organized a walk so that you could 'get to know each other better', although supervised by her own eyes that were behind you, making sure that her son didn’t commit any indecency. But no matter how sweetly you smiled and spoke them, Aegon could sense that you were lying.

There was hatred in your eyes and a clear resentment towards the life from which you were torn, as if it weren’t an honor to have the opportunity to marry the prince of the seven kingdoms. Your hypocritical words represented an insult to the boy and that is why he decided from the first moment that he would hate you deeply.

With your mere existence you would have deprived him of his freedom, his entertainment, his youth. He would be tied to you for future occasions, he would have to take you to all the events, secure your food, your clothes. share the same roof and pretend to be nice to you in the eyes of others. And, besides, he could have thought of a lot of candidates better than you, physically speaking. Your beauty was quite ordinary for his taste, as if he were looking at any painting; cheap and repetitive.

“I regret to admit that I am not so fortunate, Lady Tyrell. But I am happy for the union of our houses” he lied, in the same way that you had done.

And it was obvious that this didn’t go unnoticed by you, that you had the same critical eye as your recent fiancé but that you sought to maintain composure in the presence of your future mother-in-law.

On the wedding day Aegon had a good time only because he was able to drown himself in monumental quantities of liquor and because he was able to eat as much as he wanted of the exquisite banquet. He didn't even pay a bit of attention to how you looked in the wedding dress that the royal seamstresses had been in charge of making in record time, because when the time came he flattered you superficially and then ignored the matter. The ceremony kiss was the first you shared, and it was so fleeting and awkward that the prince felt disappointed. On the wedding night he was so drunk that he didn't even look at you.

You knew that the unfortunate day would come when you would have to carnally please the young man and the simple thought of being defiled in this way caused you terror and nausea in equal parts.

It was a stranger whom you had married, of whom the only thing you knew was his noble title and name.

In the days following your marriage, unfortunately or fortunately, Aegon didn’t even speak to you. You didn't have to share a room, so it was easier for him to completely ignore you while he went about his ways.

You had to admit that the only good thing about having taken this trip was the beautiful landscapes that King's Landing offered you. Your room had a direct view of Blackwater Bay and you spent several days looking out the window at the beautiful sea. Sometimes you could watch Prince Aemond ride his dragon, and honestly, the size of the beast scared you a little. You hadn't had the chance to observe Aegon in Sunfyre yet but if he was as impressive as Vhagar, then he would be quite a sight.

A week passed, then another and another where you were nothing more than a guest in the palace. You didn't talk to anyone, you ate dinner alone, you barely saw the outside of the castle. Sometimes you went to the Sept, pretending to pray, but really just killing the endless boring hours of the day. You were somewhat lucky if you found Helaena, the most sensible and calm within the royal family, because you had pleasant conversations with her. When you met the queen it was a little more difficult, because she asked you endless questions in which you had to fake the answers. How could you be fulfilling your parenting responsibilities if the capricious prince wouldn't deign to lay a finger on you?

After a month, Alicent seemed to take matters into her own hands and forced her eldest son to take you to sleep in the same room as him. However, Aegon seemed to want to blame you for something you hadn't chosen. He never spoke to you and every time you went to bed, he would stand with his back to you as far away as possible. And as if that weren’t enough, he had explicitly ordered his guards not to allow you to leave the room unless it was in his company. It was his way of punishing you, of getting even for the complaints of his mother and grandfather regarding his lack of interest in marriage.

“My mother wants us to attend a dinner tonight” you were so unaccustomed to hearing his voice addressing you that it took you a second to process what he was telling you “I will talk to the maids to bring you a suitable dress.”

You didn't know what to say. You didn't want to go to that dinner, nor did you want to be with him, or wear one of those tight, annoying dresses. Aegon, noticing your silence, deigned to look at you and in your eyes he could see the aversion you felt for him. It was something difficult to mask and he had seen it on so many faces that it was nothing new.

“As you wish, prince.”

A bitter laugh came from your husband's throat.

“Don't be a hypocrite, for God's sake. I know you hate me as much as I hate you. Save appearances for guests, not in the chambers."

You wouldn’t have had the courage to admit out loud what his majesty had said, but you didn’t dare to contradict him either. You had to play the role of a self-sacrificing and suitable wife for the man if you wanted to keep your honor, but above all your head.

You tried, with all your might, to see some quality in Aegon that you liked so that you could treat him in a better way, which always resulted in something useless. Perhaps if he had been nicer to you, you could have known how to forgive his faults, but even that wasn’t granted to you.

The dinner was mostly family-oriented, with the guest of honor being from House Baratheon whose purpose was to discuss some political matters with the king and queen. Due to his health, Viserys didn’t usually leave his room more than necessary, however, that night the occasion warranted it.

“Lady Tyrell, how is your stay in King's Landing?”

The king had a reputation for being gentle with his guests and was the first person to ask you a personal question, so the smile you showed him was genuine.

“Very pleasant, your grace. The servants treat me as well as possible and I must admit that the views from my room are beautiful. Your dragon is impressive, Prince Aemond, by the way.”

The boy, who wasn't all that expressive, just looked at you for a moment and tilted his head down slightly.

“I'm glad you like it, princess.”

"And my son? How is our Aegon treating you?”

That question was more complicated to answer, since it required expressing a lie. Everyone present focused their attention on you, except your husband who had been staring into nothingness for a long time.

“Very well, my king. He’s a good husband and I am happy to have been able to unite our houses.”

The aforementioned snorted, incredulous at what you were saying at the table, and took a long drink from his glass of wine.

“And I hope very soon you can give us strong and beautiful heirs.”

Although that was intended as a compliment, you felt the weight of that responsibility pressing down on you again.

“I wish the same. It will be an honor to serve the crown and bear the progeny of a house as formidable as yours."

The queen was pleased with your answer and for a moment felt sorry for you. She knew her son well, so deep down she knew that it wasn’t a gift from the gods to be married to him. The rest of the table looked at you curiously, wondering if you were serious, trying to be ironic, or just trying to play the good girl role.

Aegon, as expected, became intoxicated during dinner and when Queen Alicent announced that she was going to retire to sleep you thought it prudent to do the same. Your husband, however, had other wishes.

“Stay here,” he asked, his voice serious.

When he was drunk he looked you up and down, probably evaluating how worth it would be to decide to strip you naked and fuck you once and for all. Your body in the dress you were wearing looked better with a few drinks on him.

“I think it would be best to retire, my husband. This way you can stay with the men to chat and… drink”

“But I want you to stay here to keep me company,” he insisted, holding your wrist tightly “Or don't you want to please your prince?”

It wasn’t a loving request, but one for control. He wanted to have you there only to demonstrate his power over you, without paying attention to you or talking; only as an ornament.

“Aegon, enough,” Alicent interrupted, observing the scene that had begun to unfold. “Daughter, let's go to sleep. “I will accompany you”

“Fine, do whatever you want,” he spat contemptuously, abruptly releasing the wrist that was holding you. There was hatred in his eyes, but also pride.

The queen said goodbye to everyone present and then offered you her hand to take you away from there. You spent most of the way in silence, walking through the long, wide corridors of the fortress followed only by the faithful footsteps of Ser Criston Cole.

“You must be patient with him” he began to say “He is a particular man and sometimes… difficult, but I know that with your docile character you will be able to deal with his temperament.”

What did she know about your character? She didn't know you at all.

“So it shall be, Queen Alicent.”

“I understand what you are going through, dear. We both come from the same lands to endure the difficult task of accompanying a monarch. But it is our duty to carry it out with all the honor and temper worthy of our homes. Of course, I can trust that as a woman you will be able to help him fulfill another of the most important marital commitments, such as having children, to maintain the lineage and blood. For a virgin like you, Aegon may be rough, but... patience and resilience are among the best virtues. A woman in royalty must endure these things to give the best to the people.”

You had never wanted to be a princess. And just when you thought the queen was showing you compassion, you realized that she was only looking out for her interests and those of her family.

"Thanks for the advice. I'll keep it in mind"

She smiled and immediately left a kiss on your forehead, which could have been taken as a maternal kiss but which you didn't like at all. The longer you can postpone suffering, the better. If Aegon didn't even want to look at you, it was perfect.

That night, as soon as you touched the mattress and the silk sheets that decorated it, you began to cry until you fell asleep.

SECOND ACT: CONTROL

Time passed again and although the punishment of not leaving your room was not revoked, you found multiple activities with which to entertain yourself in the prince's absence. You filled your mornings and afternoons with reading, writing, knitting and embroidering. The nights were even more boring because most of the time your husband wasn't there either.

Rumors that you hadn’t yet consummated the marriage had spread through the halls of the palace and soon the smallfolk would murmur too. After all, the people couldn’t entertain themselves with anything more than the gossip and the plays that were going on in the poor neighborhoods, making fun of royal affairs.

You no longer even had the energy to deny those accusations and Aegon had given you the perfect opportunity by throwing you out of his room and refusing to leave the four walls of yours: if you didn't leave there, there was no way anyone would question you. And since you didn't have family inside the Keep, you didn't have any visitors either.

One night, however, your husband surprised you by entering your room. It had been days since you two had seen each other and his staggering around the room warned you that he was drunk again. You often wondered how he resisted drinking so much and the long-term effects it would have on his health, but right now your mind could only focus on the fear of what he might want in that state.

“Good night, dear,” he drawled, sounding as sarcastic as possible.

You were in your nightgown and you were carrying in your hand an old book that you had been reading and that you threw on the nightstand as soon as you saw him approaching you. You didn't have time to say or do anything else when he had already approached you in giant steps to grab you by the back of your neck and start kissing you. He was abrupt, careless, with his mouth smelling of wine and tasting even worse. You wanted to cry from helplessness.

“It's what everyone wants, isn't it?” he murmured, separating himself from you, but still holding you by the hair at the back of your neck. “A marriage arranged in a couple of days to form alliances. And that's it, my life was ruined thanks to my father wanting your stupid castle to expand his domain."

The truth is that couldn't be further from the truth. Viserys’s ambition had never been that, as he had been so little involved in the process that he simply didn’t care who his children were or were not married to. Except for Rhaenyra, of course.

Aegon continued:

"I didn’t want this. I didn't want to marry you, or anyone..."

“And you think I do?” you confronted him.

You were tired of the insult, the humiliation and him ignoring you as if you were worthless; even if that was what a husband did. And the most likely thing was that your words would be forgotten due to alcohol or that they would put an end to the wait for your suffering to begin and Aegon decided to take you once and for all.

“You have nothing to lose, prince,” you continued. “You get drunk as much as you want, you run away from your responsibilities and walk everywhere when I have to stay locked up here all day just because you want me to. I have to endure the suspicious looks of everyone because I still don't have an heir in the womb while you go and fuck your whores."

“I'm the prince and I fuck whoever I want, did you hear me?” he hissed. The grip on your hair had already begun to become painful and a few tears slipped down your cheeks “And I stop fucking whoever I want too. I'm not going to please anyone by getting you pregnant. There they will see if they come and force me to put my cock in you”

“Do you doubt that, your grace?” you exclaimed bitterly “Doubts that will force us to conceive?”

“So that's what you want? Do you want me to do it?”

“I want to go home. That is what I want. But my father used me as a bargaining chip and that's why I can't do anything."

“I'm sorry it was like that. If I had chosen my wife, I would surely have chosen someone prettier and more educated than you, but I can't do much either."

Once again, the man pushed you until your lips joined his and the same discomfort settled in you. He didn't kiss you with love, but with fury and violence to the point that you had to push him away when he bit you so hard that a trickle of blood began to come out of your lower lip. Aegon was also stained by it and with an acidic smile he ran the tip of his tongue all over his mouth to remove any traces.

Looking at you he didn't look happy, but he didn't look angry either. He just seemed fed up.

Everyone knew, or suspected, that the prince was very capable of taking sexual advantage of any woman. He had done it before with maids and prostitutes and had slept peacefully throughout that time. However, there was something about you that encouraged him not to. He didn't even think it was something about you specifically but about the situation, because he wanted to do the opposite of what he was ordered: if everyone ordered him to take you to have an heir, it automatically became an unpleasant act and at the same time that he refused.

He was hurt, not because of you but because of years and years of abuse and neglect. He didn't really know you at all, he only knew what you represented.

You were just the unlucky one who had married him.

"I hate you. I hate that you are my wife and you are not worthy of me even touching you” he snapped with disdain. You were still fighting to keep the tears inside your eyes and his vision had also blurred slightly “I wish I had never met you.”

“The feeling is mutual, your grace,” you expressed, your voice breaking. If it was an offense to the crown, you wouldn't even care anymore and if he killed you right there you wouldn't regret it too much either.

Aegon looked at you one last time before staggering back out the door without another word, closing it behind him with a loud gesture and leaving you alone in the room. The reality that you had escaped, once again, from being raped by the man fell on you like a bucket of cold water and your knees weakened until you fell to the floor.

You were hurt, tired, and defeated by the stress of the situation and the fear that had washed over you the entire time. Luckily he was gone, otherwise you didn't know if you would have endured what he had to do to you. It was better to have him busy in a brothel than to have to endure him in your bed.

You wished you could talk to someone and cry on a loved one’s shoulder, only to realize a second later that that was impossible. Aegon was your new family, now you belonged to the Targaryens and you would have to do as they wished.

Anger completely overwhelmed you to the point where you stood up from your seat and began throwing pieces of glassware all over the room, in a violent outburst at what had just happened and the way you felt. None of the guards outside your door dared to come in to check on you and soon enough you fell back to the ground, exhausted from the effort.

As you cried, perhaps for the umpteenth time since you had been married, you thought about how you would never be able to love Prince Aegon. Not even if you tried.

THIRD ACT: PAIN

After months, the inevitable arrived. The truth was that the first time you felt sorrow and anger, but the following times it became more tolerable. Not because it was better, but because you began to get used to it. Aegon didn't change his attitude towards you one bit. You indeed spent more time together, although that didn’t mean that you got along better or that you had begun to have more sympathy for each other.

The only advantage was that you had started to be friends with some people in the palace. Your sister-in-law, to begin with, as well as some of the maids who were in charge of looking after you, as they turned out to be your only company during those days. Those distractions were more than enough for you, considering the situation you were in, and they kept you sane as time went by.

Almost like a punishment from heaven, it seemed that you weren’t pregnant yet, since your biological processes seemed to continue working to the letter. That meant that, unfortunately, you would have to keep trying; when Aegon was lost enough to forget who you were and you had to stand still as a statue to let him loom over you.

You often liked to imagine what your life would have been like if you had stayed in Highgarden. Nobody knew it yet, but there you had found your first love and although it never went beyond a few kisses, you treasured the memory with particular affection. You had always wanted to marry a sweet man who loved and respected you, who would give you your place as a wife and adore you day and night; someone with whom you could feel protected, cared for, but above all happy. You thought, naively, that that boy you had met and who was nothing more than a commoner could have given you that life, but all those possibilities were nothing more than fantasies in which you tried to lock yourself in to feel less miserable with your unpleasant reality.

One night Helaena had invited you to a modest dinner in her company that you couldn't refuse, since none of your husbands were present and some time with friends could clear your mind. You didn't even know where the prince was, although it was expected that he was spending some time in the town with his friends.

“Sometimes I feel sad about our situation,” said the blonde. You were in the privacy of her chambers, not even with the maids present, so confessions like that were allowed “But I am happy that you are my friend, something that wouldn’t have been possible otherwise.”

“I'm glad to talk to you too,” you smiled sincerely. “You're the best thing I've found around here.”

“My brothers aren't that bad, they're just… well, we've had a hard life. And that's why they behave like that."

“I think there is no justification for being a…” idiot, you wanted to say, but you had to remember that you were in the presence of the princess, “a person who is rude to others. But I guess that happens with royalty, right? They do what they want without consequences”

"I guess so. Kings, princes, the heirs, lords, dukes…”

“Okay, I get it,” you laughed bitterly “It's probably a masculine quality.”

You never thought your sister-in-law would have that kind of humor and to be honest, most of the time she was a comic relief for the situations you two were going through. Sometimes her prophecies scared you, especially the way she phrased them, but you wanted to think that her premonitions would never affect you directly.

When you finally got tired of chatting and the food was finished, you decided to return to your room, so you could have a peaceful night's rest. It was raining outside and thunder echoed in the distance, making the atmosphere slightly gloomy, but at the same time cooling every corner of King's landing.

The novelty of your position was no longer important enough to require you to be escorted by guards twenty-four hours a day, so you were able to slowly walk through all the corridors that led to your sanctuary. It was modest but cute, although not on the level of Aegon’s.

A man was guarding the door and you bowed your head to him to let you pass, which he did without any opposition. Once inside you got rid of your shoes and unbuttoned your corset, not caring that the room was almost in darkness; only the moonlight illuminated from the window. You took a few steps forward and squealed when you discovered that there was another person in the room, sitting at the small table with a drink in his hand. You would have started screaming for help if you hadn't noticed that said intruder had silver hair falling like a curtain over his face.

"Your grace?" you asked cautiously.

It isn’t usual for Aegon to drink in your room, as he preferred other places with more interesting company, and when you didn’t receive an answer you approached slowly. You thought that at best he had simply fallen asleep and at worst he would be dead.

At first his long, wavy hair covered your view of his face, but when he noticed your presence he raised his head and then you could see him. His features became clearer as lightning illuminated him from the outside and for a second you were horrified.

His cheek was red and a trickle of blood was dripping from his nose, however, what surprised you the most was seeing his eyes completely swollen.

“For the seven, I… I'll go call a maester”

“Don't even think about it,” he exclaimed hoarsely, seeing that you were already rushing towards the door.

Your husband didn't sound like his usual angry tone, but rather he seemed... hurt.

You thought for a second about what the appropriate reaction to the situation was. You couldn't leave the room because, in addition to the guards murmuring, it would be impolite to leave him in that state; also, where would you go? If you ignored him, he would probably take it as an insult and he had already made it clear that he didn't want to see someone who could take care of those injuries.

You hated him, it was true, but you weren't an insensitive monster either.

"Who did this to you?"

Aegon was surprised by how soft, even kind, your question sounded and the intoxication gave him some courage to answer.

“My mother and my grandfather. Mostly my mother, my grandfather rather dedicated his efforts to reminding me how useless I am”

You didn't know what to say. You never believed that the queen would be capable of hitting one of her sons like that. You didn't believe it from any mother, actually.

With some trepidation you took one of the chairs and placed it in front of him, expecting him to immediately push you away or ask you to get out of his sight. However, the prince didn't seem to have enough energy to do any of those things.

He had a lost look on his face and tears began to run down his face.

“Nothing… nothing I do pleases her. Neither to her, nor to my grandfather. All the time they are pressuring me, demanding me, yelling at me. Apparently Otto still hopes that my father will name me king, but I've never wanted that. They blame me for drinking all the time and how do they expect them not to? My father cares so little about me and my mother hates me. All his life he has hated me. She does it, my brothers… and so do you. My own wife hates me. Everyone… everyone who knows me does it”

You were silent for a moment.

There were mixed feelings inside you, because you couldn't forget the mistreatment that the man had given you during those months, nor the way he used you for his pleasure. He was right when he said you hated him. However, there was a compassionate part of you, deep down, that felt sorry for the man's state.

“And sometimes I just want to be dead. I just wish all the shit would go away and drowning in alcohol and dying would take away Alicent's problem and allow her to focus her attention on something better”

His gaze lifted and he looked at you with crystallized eyes.

“Maybe you should poison me one day. So your suffering would also end”

“Your highness, I cannot do that”

“But would you like it? Do you hate me enough to wish me dead?”

“Of course not,” you said quickly.

"Liar. You lie like everyone else. You want me dead”

You knew that saying something negative at that moment, in the state he was in, could result in him making some incoherence that you would be blamed for the next morning. So it was best to act cautiously.

“I don't think anyone wants that”

“My mother does. My father, Rhaenyra does it, and so does her stupid new husband…”

“Your grace…” you interrupted him harshly. Listening to him sink into his self-indulgence was too much to bear “You better go to sleep, don't you think? Now you're not thinking clearly, you'll feel better in the morning."

But Aegon seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, oblivious to anything you had to say to him.

“I guess I just wish someone wouldn't completely detest my existence, you know?”

Aegon had done terrible things to you, of course, but seeing him at that moment made you wonder if all of this was the product of poor parenting and psychological abuse that had been perpetuated for twenty long years. You couldn't say your father loved you, not after what he had done, but at least he hadn't constantly hurt you as the man in front of you had. You knew better than anyone that hate had to be healed with empathy and for a brief moment you felt soft for him.

Once Aegon was a small child, without sins, without accumulated hatred, without evil... and apparently that frightened child hadn’t been completely buried, because it was him who cried inconsolably and saw death as a viable alternative to end that suffering. However, there is no redemption without guilt, right? You don't get to heaven without first repenting.

You stayed silent for a long time, listening to him sob, and when you gathered the courage you spoke:

“Prince, can I be honest with you?”

You had spoken in a low and benevolent voice, while you slid from your chair until you were kneeling in front of him. The boy didn't even want to take advantage of that position for a sexual act, he was simply too tired and drained to think. You placed your hands on his knees and seeing that he nodded, you continued:

“You say you wish someone wouldn't hate you, but have you ever made an effort to do so? Or have you even wondered why people feel that way about you?”

“It's something natural for them”

“I didn't feel it,” you said, honestly. You hated the idea of getting married out of obligation, but if he had been different from the beginning maybe your feelings for him would be too “And you made me feel it. With your contempt, your humiliations, your punishments…”

“If everyone thinks you're a monster, what's the point of contradicting them?”

“And then you prefer to agree with them?”

You were probably taking too many liberties with the prince, but you would never have a chance to talk to him like that again. He was vulnerable and therefore less defensive than normal.

“Every person is responsible for their actions,” you continued. “You can't change how the queen or king feels about you, but you can choose to offer something better to others. If it’s your desire that people not hate you, that won’t happen overnight just because you tell it to. It takes time, effort and above all it requires kindness. If you live regretting the concept that people have of you, without doing anything to change it, then you will live a lifetime of dissatisfaction. If you seriously want someone to feel happy about your existence then pursue that goal, don’t expect it to be granted to you as a divine work.”

A deeper cry began to well up from the man and you almost thought he would lean down for your hug. Still, he didn't.

“I don't know how to be someone else. I have always been this”

“Not always, that's for sure. Water that stagnates rots and becomes a swamp. The one that runs, on the other hand, becomes a river and flows into the ocean.”

You raised the handkerchief you always carried and, in an act of kindness that was also intended to be an offering of peace, you gently wiped the tears and dried blood from his face. Aegon squirmed as he had never experienced that kind of care.

“You just have to ask yourself: what do you choose to be?”

For an endless moment he watched you. His judgment was clouded by drunkenness, but he wondered if he wasn't hallucinating and you were simply the voice of his conscience telling him something he had never wanted to accept.

It was easier to blame others for his mistakes, to justify himself by saying that everything about him was his mother's fault and that if he behaved the way he did it was only a defense mechanism. Aegon had never thought about how his treatment of women was a direct consequence of Alicent's upbringing: if his own mother had hurt him, why wouldn't other women do the same to him? And since he was convinced that they were all going to do it, he preferred to turn them into objects that he could use for his benefit.

He was so drunk and so exhausted from all the crying he had shed that he simply pushed your hand away from his face and stood up from the chair, without saying a word. You, now standing, saw him begin to undress and the first thing you thought was that he would seek to heal his sorrows by having sex with you. However, he only got rid of the essentials and then lay on his stomach on the bed. Without any choice, you took off your clothes for the day, put on a nightgown and also lay down on the mattress to sleep.

You were sure that the next day Aegon wouldn’t remember anything and you weighed the possibility of the whole story repeating itself, in an endless and painful loop for the two of you. And if you were right, it would be a shame if you had to live like this for the rest of your days.

FOURTH ACT: REDEMPTION

“Do you know where Meryna is?” you asked one of the maids who had come in to change your bedding.

“No, your grace”

“I'm starting to get hungry and she still hasn't brought my breakfast,” you exclaimed sadly.

You had woken up a while ago and had gotten dressed to go for a walk after eating, to see if this would cheer you up a little. It had been a few days since Aegon had opened up in the privacy of your room and after that you had barely seen him, much less spoken to him. You believed that everything was due to a matter of pride or even shame for what you had witnessed and you simply didn’t give it importance, because you knew that eventually he would approach you again. You just had to wait for him to want to do it.

Almost as if by summons, the black-haired girl appeared through the door, looking agitated and embarrassed by the delay. Furthermore, she came empty-handed.

"Princess…"

“Didn't you bring breakfast?” you asked, still sounding cordial but slightly surprised.

“I'm very sorry, it's just that Prince Aegon asked me to bring the food to the royal dining room. He is waiting for you there, he told me to come and get you.”

He hadn’t mentioned requiring your presence for any breakfast and, according to you, there were no guests in the palace to accompany. The two women noticed your dismay and Meryna stood waiting for a response.

“Did he tell you why?”

“No, your grace”

"Good. Then tell him I'll be there in a moment."

You only took a few minutes to change your dress, one more suitable for being in the presence of the prince and in case there was a guest you didn't know about. There were no guards at your door so you were able to walk to the dining room by yourself and were surprised to see that only your husband was at the table. He had an expression that you interpreted as a mix of impatience and nerves.

“Oh, you finally arrived. Sit down. You, bring the princess something to drink,” he ordered a maid. He used to call you that in the presence of guests, but it was rare for him to have that courtesy when alone.

“Are we waiting for someone?”

"No. I just thought you might want to have breakfast together.”

You were already sitting next to him, and for a second you watched him with a frown. Had he hit his head somewhere or why was he acting so strange?

“Do you prefer juice or wine, your highness?

"Juice"

“And bring her some strawberries,” Aegon exclaimed.

There was something about the situation that scared you, because you imagined that he wouldn't be treating you so kindly without wanting something in return. But you were already his wife and he did whatever he wanted with you, what more could he want from you?

You looked him up and down, as if searching for some sign, but he looked completely normal. He was wearing one of those full black robes he was used to, with a golden chain with emeralds decorating the hem of his neck and a belt accentuating his figure. The dark circles in his eyes were pronounced, as always, but the look was not that of someone angry; you would even say that he looked somewhat passive, even sleepy.

While you were thinking about all that, you remembered the last conversation you had had with him. You feared that madness had finally exploded in your husband and the food you were about to eat was poisoned, as he had suggested at the time. Perhaps out of courtesy he was waiting for you to take the first bite and, trying to control the trembling in your hands, you took a portion of the cold cuts on your plate to put it in your mouth. Luckily the food didn't taste different and after seeing that the man ate it with the utmost calmness, you assumed that it didn't contain any poison either.

There was freshly baked bread, jam, some cheeses, the aforementioned cold cuts, a variety of fruits, scrambled eggs with fresh herbs and chives, as well as some stuffed buns for dessert. It was a mini banquet and as you ate it you couldn't help but wonder why this show of kindness was due.

Aegon didn't seem to have any intention of talking and you didn't try to force him, not wanting to either. The atmosphere was one of peace and tranquility, one you had not experienced since your wedding day until now, and it was a very different but strangely pleasant feeling.

It was just a couple sharing breakfast time, but for two people who come from such a broken home it felt like a totally new experience.

You continued in silence until most of the things served were finished, leaving only what wasn’t to your palate's liking or that your body was simply no longer able to ingest.

“Do you need anything else, your majesty?”

“Clear this table, we won't eat anymore,” he said to the maid, nonchalantly pointing to the leftovers you had left. Then he looked at you “Satisfied?”

"I am. Everything was delicious”

“I want us to do the same tomorrow. I will send a maid for you, so get ready soon,” he said decisively.

Then he got up from his chair, stretched a little, and left the room without saying anything else to you.

You didn't see your husband the rest of the day, but the next morning he kept his promise without fail. Although the breakfast menu was different the routine was the same and again it made you wonder what the reason for it was.

The next day he also requested your presence for breakfast and you concluded that he intended to make it a habit. For the rest of the morning you were supposed to dedicate yourself to your activities, but after a week of following that routine Aegon informed you that he had other plans for you.

“I want you to come with me for a walk.”

"To the exterior?"

"Yeah. I have training with Ser Criston but I don't wish to attend, so you will be my excuse. I'll tell him that the princess wanted to go for a walk and that I couldn't let her go alone."

He was telling you that lie almost like a childish prank and you would swear he was about to smile.

“Huh, okay. If you want it, we will”

You were still confused by his actions, because in all the time you had been there it was the first time he treated you decently. You didn't know if he was still drinking in large quantities, but at least when he went to sleep he no longer reeked of liquor in the same way. And all that week he hadn't forced you to have sex with him.

What had motivated the prince to change his way of behaving towards you?

"Do you want to go to the beach? I will order a couple of horses to be saddled for us” he exclaimed when you had already left the dining room.

You couldn't refuse to go to the bay, because in your entire life you had never seen the ocean and your curiosity was greater than any other feeling. Besides, you loved horses, and being with them might even make you feel better.

Aegon did as he told you and soon enough you were in the stable. He had ordered a beautiful white mare for you, with a silver mane the color of your husband's hair and a formidable build.

You approached to pet the animal, carefully, and tensed completely when you felt another body behind yours. Until that moment you hadn't realized how warm your husband was.

“She's pretty, right?”

His voice sounded at your ear level, as he had also reached out to touch Frostfire’s hair.

"She is"

“I guess you know how to ride,” he muttered under his breath and you let out an offended sigh.

“Of course I do. Highgarden is the heart of the chivalry of the seven kingdoms”

After saying that you turned your head just a little and met his gaze, indigo eyes with hints of lilac looking at you carefully. You could feel his breath against yours and at that closeness your cheeks had already turned red involuntarily.

He separated from you and then went to choose his horse, a black thoroughbred with beautiful braids, to get on it and ask the guards to open the door for you. You almost managed to sneak away, but Ser Criston stopped the two of you just before you could do so, claiming that he had a scheduled practice with the prince.

“I'm taking my wife to Blackwater, she hasn't had a chance to visit since her arrival.”

“But your grace, your father…”

“We will continue with training later, Ser Criston,” he said firmly.

“Will you go to Blackwater without an escort?”

“I will”

"That's impossible"

“Don't worry, I don't want to be accompanied. Just rest for now.”

“But you are the prince.”

"Exactly. I am the prince and I want my orders to be respected."

The boy was a smug son of a bitch when he put his mind to it, just like now. The man had no choice but to obey the words and then the two of you were able to leave. You could get there on foot, but Aegon had felt like riding and had wanted an alternative to quickly escape if something went wrong.

You walked along a path that still belonged to the Red Keep grounds, so there was no great danger of being attacked along the way, and you soon reached the bay. It was even more beautiful up close and as soon as you got off the mare you forgot any courtesy towards your husband, as you rushed towards the shore to watch the waves crash. Your pumps and dress were soaked when the water reached your calves, but it didn't bother you too much because you were happy for the reason.

“Have you never been to the ocean?”

“I'm afraid not, your grace. There was never any business that required me to be on the coast of The Reach and I have always lived surrounded by hills and forests. I had seen some rivers, but…”

Before you could continue your story you staggered because of a wave and to avoid falling you tried to hold on to whatever was within reach, which turned out to be the man next to you. He supported you from the elbows with his strong arms.

“Oh, I'm so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he laughed. For the first time in your presence, he had laughed “But we should get away from the shore. I wouldn't want to take you back to the castle all soaked”

You heeded the boy's advice and, still leaning on him, walked towards the sand. The sky was slightly cloudy, so the weather was perfect for walking around without any discomfort.

“I've never visited Highgarden, is it as impressive as rumored?” he asked, as he began to walk in the opposite direction of the Red Keep.

Although you never believed that the prince would be interested in such things, you began to talk to him about your hometown with particular emotion. You told him about his surroundings, about the castle and you also told in greater detail the gardens that once belonged to you and were full of golden roses, as was the emblem of your house.

You were surprised by how attentive the boy was to everything you had to say to him and for the first time since your arrival, you didn't feel like a stranger in your own skin. Talking about your home was like remembering a part of yourself, as if you were showing him your insides through stories of the beautiful hills where you had ridden so many times.

“Everything sounds wonderful,” he concluded. The sea breeze had already ruffled both of your hair and he took advantage of this to brush a strand out of your face “Someday I should go visit it”

“Yes, maybe you would like that” you exclaimed smiling. You had come too far and it was time to walk back, towards where you had left Frostfire and Moonshadow tied up “Your grace, may I ask you a question?”

"Yeah"

You opened your mouth to ask him why he was doing all that and why he had suddenly started showing so much interest in you. You wanted to know the reason for his unexpected kindness and his abstinence from activities that weren’t very pleasant for you. But before you could speak, you took a moment to observe him. His skin looked paler in the light outside and his silver hair waved in the wind, however, what caught your attention the most was the serene expression on his face.

Although you couldn't say that you knew Aegon, the time you had lived together had shown you that his personality was extremely challenging. If you pointed out that he was being nicer to you and questioned him about it, he would most likely revert to his old behavior towards you simply on a whim. So no, you couldn't ask him about anything or you'd ruin the minuscule part of a good relationship you had managed to build.

“I was thinking... Do you think we can one day bring golden roses to the royal gardens? Green and gold are part of your emblem too and that would beautify the place. I could take care of them, if you want.”

“That's a good idea,” he exclaimed happily. You had already turned around to return and you calculated that it must be after noon “I will order them to be brought in as soon as possible, in the hope that the hot weather at King's landing will not ruin them”

“I hope not,” you said, although a little less enthusiastic than before.

You had been lost in thought after the appearance of that question that you did not verbalize and suddenly Aegon feared that he had made some mistake. You walked a few meters in silence, until this state was unbearable for his majesty and he stopped you by holding your shoulders. You were about to ask what had happened when he pulled you against his lips, stealing your breath. It was still a rough kiss, but this time less desperate than before. His hands went down to your waist and held you to his body until there wasn’t even a centimeter of distance left, with your belly touching the heat of his stomach.

“Still no signs that you are pregnant?”

You thought that, perhaps, your answer was in that question and that the only thing the man wanted was to convince you to hurry up the matter of producing an heir.

“I'm sorry to say no. It's very unfortunate."

“We'll have to keep trying,” he said, shrugging his shoulders as if he wanted to downplay the matter “Mother insists on it.”

“Has your mother always been like this to you?”

"What are you talking about?"

“It's just… she seems to have everything under control all the time.”

You couldn't be further from the truth and rather than describing it that way Aegon would have said that she was controlling. She wanted to have things under control, but she couldn't and as an example was the eldest prince himself, whom she had never been able to persuade to behave the way he did.

“Well, she is the queen. I guess that's how she must be” he exclaimed without much encouragement. He was still holding you by the waist and was surprised by how intimate that position was. “But we better get back, they must be wondering where we are”

“Maybe they even think I ran away, taking advantage of the fact that you weren't there to watch me,” you joked.

"Would you do it?"

"Do what?"

“Run away”

You looked at the man, incredulous, because it was stupid to think that if you were planning to run away you would just tell him like that. That was the characteristic of it, that it was surprising and hidden.

“Why would I do, your grace?”

“Maybe because I'm a bad husband,” he said quietly. You weren't understanding the game Aegon was playing and it was driving you crazy.

“I wouldn't dare do it. I have nowhere to go and I know I couldn't even get through the doors without your majesty noticing,” you replied.

The prince didn’t want pragmatic reasons like that, but rather his question was more aimed at whether it was your will to abandon him.

Against all odds a couple of raindrops began to fall and very soon a storm had already brewed over your head. It was useless to run, but you did it anyway and Aegon held your hand to prevent either of you from falling due to a trip. Somewhere along the way you lost one of your pumps and at this you began to laugh and he, infected by your joy, did the same. It amused you greatly to think of the face the queen would make when she saw you enter the castle, with her eldest son soaked from head to toe and your clothing incomplete. But you also laughed from the joy of feeling so alive in that moment. You felt like a girl playing in the rain and despite the coldness of the falling water, you felt a certain warmth traveling from the tips of your fingers to your chest.

Although he was sure that you were an excellent rider, your husband insisted on taking you on his own horse to avoid any accidents and you agreed without complaint. His body sheltered you all the way to the Red Keep and once there, under the roof, he helped you down from the chair with extreme care. You didn't think he was that strong until you felt him grab your waist and place you on the floor effortlessly.

“Ask the maids to prepare a bath for you, or you will catch a cold,” he said, putting on your back a cloak he had found hanging on one of the walls.

There was the hint of a smile on his face and seeing him behave like this towards you made you feel weird. You almost felt like he was trying to be affectionate with you, even though he wasn't quite succeeding.

“You should do the same,” you exclaimed softly.

Motivated by the kind moment you had shared, you reached out to brush away the wet hair that had stuck to his face and he shivered at your touch. It was the first time you touched him that way, out of conviction and with care.

“Your majesty, Lord Hand is looking for you. He says he needs to talk to you urgently."

“My grandfather,” he sighed at you, as if wanting to apologize for the words the guard behind you had just said.

He gave the man Moonshadow's reins and then explained that someone had to go get the horse you had left in the bay, so you assumed your presence there was no longer necessary. You were about to leave when he stopped you, grabbing your arm somewhat roughly and looking at you with a feeling that you couldn't decipher.

“I'll go to your room tonight,” he informed.

You felt a little disappointed by the reality of having to share a bed with him, after so long without having done so, but you were grateful that he was at least warning you.

You nodded your goodbyes and he did the same, forming an unspoken agreement. You thought maybe that was why he had been polite to you, so he could get back under your bed sheets. But there was no point in doing it, he wasn't courting you to win your hand, but you were already his wife and he had made it very clear that he could do with you whatever he wanted.

Still a little confused, you were escorted to your bedroom, where you hoped that a tub with hot water and essences would be enough to appease all those doubts that were growing in you.

FIFTH ACT: LOVE

At some point Aegon would get tired of all this, you were sure. But while that moment arrived, you were thoroughly enjoying all kinds of attention you received from your husband. He kept his promise to bring golden roses for the gardens and although the queen wasn’t very happy, in the end they adorned some of the busiest sections of the place. You took that as an act of good faith, so you thought that maybe the thought of repaying him for some of the decency he was showing you wouldn't kill you.

There wasn’t a single breakfast that you skipped, except when the prince was required for political matters or had to travel. You were too proud to admit that you had begun to genuinely enjoy his company, as you still had some distrust due to how temperamental the man was. It wasn't all sunshine and flowers, as the young man still had some outbursts that made you fear him and reminded you that this was who you were really talking to.

His drinking habits hadn’t changed much, since although he was able to handle it during the first week after that period, it was inevitable that he would go back to his old ways and drink an entire jug of wine in a couple of minutes. With sex it was the same, because he continued to fuck you without signs of care and regularly when he was lost in drink. It amused you to think that perhaps that was the reason why you still didn't carry a child in your womb; that he was too drunk when you tried to be of any use.

However, as your relationship strengthened you could notice slight (you almost swore they were imaginary) changes when having sex. He was no longer as rough towards your body as before and tried to thrust into you a little slower, as if he wanted to lengthen the moment and not just unload into you and sleep like a baby after that. Maybe it was just that the drink made him lethargic, but he had even started seeking your lips in the middle of the act or kissing everything within reach of the skin on your neck. You didn't intend to spend much time analyzing his behavior because for you it already represented a victory that he had stopped hurting you after every time you had sex and, honestly, you didn't want to inquire about it. Once again you thought it was more prudent not to question the prince and simply let him continue behaving that way.

Until one night, things looked different for you.

When you heard your husband open the door, quite late at night, and saw him approach your bed, you knew that the same dynamic of nighttime visits would take place. Aegon, already hard as a rock, would kiss you a few times, undress, order you to undress, and then position on top of you to satisfy himself. Needless to say, under the confidence that being in the dark gave you and your husband's lack of interest, you looked away or concentrated on something else while your martyrdom was carried out. He would finish, lie naked next to you, and then sleep soundly with no memory the next morning of what had happened.

Aegon called your name, just to check that you were awake or otherwise wake you up, and you were surprised to hear that his voice sounded quite normal. He wasn't slurring his words like usual.

"Your grace?" you called back, propping yourself up on your elbows so you could look at him.

He did what was expected and as soon as he was far enough away, he started kissing you. You must have known something was wrong from that first moment, when he grabbed your cheek with his wide hand and offered you the most passionate kiss you had ever had. It is reiterated that Aegon was always somewhat careless in intimacy, but this first contact hadn’t felt as impatient as others, but rather was something more careful and planned.

Only one other man had kissed you like that in your life and although the feeling brewing in your chest must have been pleasant, the truth was that it wasn't. You had endured too much abuse from the white-haired man so your body didn't know how to react otherwise. That's why when he continued kissing you for longer than usual and then laid you down meekly, you couldn't do anything but tense uncomfortably.

You were only in your nightgown so there wasn't much difficulty in sliding the straps to the side, almost exposing your tits. Suddenly Aegon lowered his kisses to your neck, where his stubble scratched your skin. Knowing that he would be busy in that area, you turned your head away to focus your gaze on a tapestry on the wall. However, you got a surprise when you felt the prince move away from you and then a bigger one when he took your face between his fingers, placing his index finger and thumb on each of your cheeks to force you to look at him. At first you thought there was anger in his eyes, but after looking at them for a second more you concluded that the feeling was more like that of someone insulted. And why? you asked yourself. What had you done that had offended the prince?

“Why are you looking away?”

His question had a certain aggressive tone, but, at the same time, he sounded hurt. With that you confirmed that he wasn’t drunk or that, if he was, he had drunk just enough to make him feel slightly dizzy. You couldn't tell the way your eyes looked at him, but Aegon interpreted your expression as one of disdain.

Unbeknownst to you, he had his own whirlwind of feelings inside him, one that was driving him crazy and causing him to look you up and down while still holding you. He’d never been like this on another night, so you were at the mercy of knowing how good or bad that would turn out.

Suddenly he seemed upset, you would even say disgusted, and surprisingly stood up from his position. The cold air hit you where he had been before and you sat on the bed to watch him, completely confused by the way he was behaving.

"What's going on…?"

“You don't want this,” he spoke firmly. It was obvious that you didn't want to and you wondered how he had barely realized it. “Not like that… I… no. Not this way"

His babbling confused you even more and when you saw him walk away with exaggerated steps until he left through the door, you couldn't help but feel totally amazed.

What was the reason for what your husband had just done?

The feeling of being abandoned was more hopeless than having him fuck you would have been, and for a moment you even felt ashamed. Maybe he didn't like you anymore or he would just go and cure his frustration in the bed of a woman you didn't know.

He had watched you very strangely and the whole scene wasn't like him. You even pinched yourself just to check that it wasn't some strange dream, getting a moan of pain in response to your question. You thought that perhaps you were acting impulsively, but barely a minute later you put on a green robe over your nightgown and headed towards the door, still not knowing exactly what you were going to do.

“Where are you going, your grace?” the guard on duty asked, putting his voluptuous body in your way.

“Prince Aegon, do you know where he went?”

“In that direction, your majesty. But I'm afraid I must recommend that you return to your room, it is dangerous to walk around the palace at this time."

“But I wish to see my husband,” you said firmly.

The man let out a sigh and then slid to the side of the hallway, leaving you a clear path. Even so, when you started walking you felt his footsteps following you because he probably wanted to make sure that something didn't happen to you. You walked for a while, but you knew it was useless when all you found were locked doors that you couldn't knock on and that you couldn't open either. If Aegon was in any of those rooms, you wouldn't know it. Defeated, you returned to your room and, as expected, found it empty again.

The next morning there wasn’t a single word about that event, but it was present in your mind throughout the day. You had already lived with him enough to realize that something was bothering him, however, upon noticing that he was less talkative during your usual breakfast, you decided to give him time.

You were about to leave the table when he stopped you, asking you to take your seat again and looking at you seriously.

“I have to travel for a couple of weeks,” he informed you. You were surprised to hear that he almost sounded sad “The king is required on some business and since my father can no longer travel, I will have to do it.”

“I hope the entire journey is favorable and the visit profitable, your grace,” you exclaimed cordially. However, your husband didn’t seem pleased with it.

One of his hands slid to hold yours, with a strength that surprised you. There was urgency in his grip, like he needed to hold on to something.

“Is that all you have to say?”

A couple of wrinkles appeared on your brow, as you clearly weren't understanding what he expected of you. Accompanying him would be reckless and you didn't know if he wanted you to keep him there at King's landing.

During those last months something had changed in the man's face, because those eyes surrounded by purple marks no longer saw you with the same aversion as the first time. And it disheartened Aegon that his attempts to please you were yielding no apparent fruit. He was giving you time, effort, and being kind to you like you had said was necessary, but he still couldn't help but feel that you still considered him a stranger.

He had been patient because he thought that, as time went by, you would begin to seek him out or not shy away from his touch. Aegon cared a lot about the physical, so every time he sneaked into your room he did so with the hope that you would welcome him with open arms and give yourself to him willingly. Countless nights he waited in his own room for you to show up to keep him warm and love him throughout the night. But it never happened and a part of him couldn't blame you either.

However, he was already tired of it. He wanted to make it clear to you that he not only wanted to give, but also receive. But forcing you to do anything would ruin everything; you had to want it.

“Have I said something that offended you, prince?”

“I just thought you would say you were going to miss me”

A laugh echoed in your throat at those words and for a second Aegon felt hurt, like you were mocking you. He was going to let go of your hand and walk away, insulted, but you squeezed his hand harder as a sign that you didn't want him to do that.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh at you. I just didn't think that if I harbored feelings of that kind they would be of interest to your majesty."

“Do you miss me when you don't see me?” he asked now, allowing himself to be vulnerable in front of you “Or are you glad to have me away?”

You didn't know what those direct questions were about, because you didn't expect that a man like him would be plagued by uncertainty about knowing the answers.

“Not at all. I will always be willing to be with you whenever you want.”

“And you want to be with me?” he insisted.

“I think that what I want is not important”

“But I'm trying to make it so. I thought I was making it clear enough,”

He was angry, but not for the reasons you might think. It frustrated him that he was trying hard to improve and that your eyes continued to see him like that first time. Too many people were already observing him like that and he thought that, perhaps, since you were the most recent to do it, you could also be the first in whom he could manage to modify it.

You, however, were still too confused by his signs. Sometimes his attitude didn’t coincide with the intentions he had, since antipathy was often the only emotion with which he allowed himself to express and feel, accustomed to what he received during all his years of life.

All those months of effort were a direct product of the talk you had had with him, of that moment of weakness in which, instead of ignoring him like everyone else did, you had stayed with him. Aegon was aware that the treatment towards you was sometimes inhumane and he couldn’t explain how despite this you had wiped away his tears with such care, expressing nothing more than an act of integrity. Sometimes he even just imposed things on you to see if he could push you to the limit and he was surprised to see that you endured everything with honor and decency. You were good, something he could never be.

He didn't want to hear anything more and then let go of your hand, feeling rejected again.

"Majesty…"

"It's getting late. I have to go feed Sunfyre so he can endure the trip.”

“Will you travel by dragon?”

“How else would a Targaryen do it?” expressed obviously.

You were silent for a moment and then he stood up, ready to fulfill his obligations. In the afternoon he had already left, without emotional goodbyes or anything like that.

You had those weeks alone to reflect on everything that had been happening. You firmly believed that a cruel and evil person would always be that way, even if they hid it, because humans can’t change from one day to the next. Still, you had to allow Aegon the courtesy of admitting that he wasn't being a complete jerk lately.

You tried to think of any unpleasant moments with him during that week and although you found a couple, you realized that they had all been because of minor arguments or simply that one of the two of you had woken up in a bad mood. The hatred for the boy had been so ingrained in you that now it was difficult to decipher how much of it was due to things that were really happening and how much of it was a resentment carried from the past, at the beginning of that harmful relationship that existed between you.

He was no longer a mean man to you, he just sometimes had those logical slips for anyone who has never been taught to love. He didn't know how to care for you, how to talk to you, or even how to touch you properly. He had always existed alone and could still be seen reflected in his incessant desire for you to be the one to look for him, in his longing to know that you would miss him during his absence and in wanting you to look forward to his return. He wanted you to pay attention to him. He needed it.

One fine afternoon the vision of Sunfyre finally appeared in the bright blue of the sky, with you watching from the huge window of your room. He looked majestic, flying deftly and confidently with the rider above him grinning from ear to ear. Aegon had once confessed to you that he loved to fly on his dragon and he spoke about it with a devotion that completely touched you.

You thought about going to look for him, grateful that he had returned, but you were afraid that your presence would bother him or, in that case, that there would be murmurs about you. You didn't want to seem like a desperate wife so you thought it would be best to look for him at dinner time and in case he wanted to see you before, you stayed in your room all afternoon.

Once night fell, you put on one of your prettiest dresses and went to the royal dining room hoping to find him there, but it was in vain. Luckily one of the cooks had seen him and he told you that he was in his room, since he had ordered that something to eat and drink be brought there.

Determined, you made your way there and took a moment before entering. You hoped that the time away from King's landing had not hardened your lover's character, because it would be a shame to waste what you had built for some time and have to start over, or not do it at all, which would be even worse. Since there were no guards at the door, you were able to push the wood without any hindrance and then you saw it.

Aegon was sitting near the fireplace, his back to the entrance and leaning against a table that had a jug that you assumed was full (or not so full anymore) of wine. When he heard your footsteps he turned slightly and when he saw you, he kept a serene expression on his face.

“Hey,” he exclaimed quietly.

“The maids informed me that you were here” you explained and he nodded.

You noticed that he no longer wore his black doublet with the Targaryen emblem, he only kept the breeches of the same color and a mint-colored linen shirt that left part of his chest exposed. His white hair had some natural curls that fell delicately over her shoulders.

“Yeah. I don't feel like seeing my parents.”

“I understand” you assumed that if he hadn't wanted to see you he wouldn't have hesitated to tell you, so you approached him. Undecided whether you should greet him with a kiss or just stay to the side, you placed your hands on his shoulders and leaned a little to look at him “How was the trip?”

“It was good,” he responded with reluctance. “But my body feels completely crushed”

“Hm. It shows” you whispered, amused. The tension in his body was palpable and that's why you began to massage him, pressing hard just where he needed it. Aegon, feeling your skilled hands doing this, let out a satisfied grunt and leaned his head back with his eyes closed.

Doing that wasn’t something you had planned when you went there, it had only happened out of the heat of the moment and the reality that your husband's body was taking its toll on him for the hours he had spent riding his dragon.

With each passing second Aegon's burden felt lighter and lighter, wondering where you had learned those movements and how your hands were strong enough to exert the right pressure.

"Feel better?" you asked kindly and he nodded immediately, eyes still closed.

Suddenly one of your hands slid lower, towards his chest, to caress him. This time your fingers were light as feathers, sending an electrical current up and down the man's spine under your touch. No whore had ever touched him like that, with that force and at the same time so delicately.

But it was clear that you were not a whore. You were his wife.

“Come here,” he said firmly, reaching out to wrap his hand around your wrist and pulling you directly into his lap.

It was extremely painful to admit that he had missed you. He was physically frustrated because he hadn't dared to take any other woman in your absence. It had been a long time since he had frequented pleasure houses, since his appetite was awakened only by being with you.

What the hell had you done to him?

“The cook told me that you ordered some food, but I only see wine around here. Have you already eaten anything?”

“Mhmm,” he said absently. Your legs dangled to the side and one of his hands came up to your face, brushing your loose hair away from it. The other one surrounded you until it planted itself firmly on your belly. “Still no signs of anything?”

“Honestly, I don't know. The maesters can’t say with certainty… I am sorry”

“What if you are sterile?” the mere possibility of it made you nervous and you wondered what your fate would be if that was the case. Aegon didn't look so worried “What a disappointment for Alicent.”

You didn't know how to take that, because on the one hand it could be that your husband was amused by the irony of the matter and on the other hand it was that he would never have wanted to have children with you. For a moment you thought that the tranquility of the environment had been fragmented by this, but it turned out that the man couldn't care less. He was completely focused on your lips, almost as if hypnotized.

“I trust that is not the case, your grace. Just… it was a streak of bad luck.”

“I guess so,” he murmured nonchalantly. He was still watching your mouth when you spoke “But now I don’t care much about that.”

He carefully grabbed you by the back of your neck and brought you closer to shorten the distance, giving you an eager kiss that took your breath away. The hand that was on your waist pulled you closer to his body, leaving practically no separation between you and him. You could feel the desperation on his lips and in his touch, like he was eager to make you his. And at the same time, he was kissing you like he had never done before: it was sweet, yearning, passionate. You felt like he really wanted you.

He separated from you so you could breathe and, as best he could, he maneuvered to lift your body until he placed you on the table, where it was easier for him to place himself in the space between your legs. You instinctively placed your hands around his neck and wrapped one of your legs around his body.

“I longed for you. These weeks” you finally confessed. You heard him, and felt him, breathe more erratically at this because your words had fallen on him with the force of an axe.

From there, Aegon acted solely driven by the feeling of knowing that you had wanted to see him as much as he had wanted to see you.

His entire body leaned over you to kiss you, with the same urgency as at the beginning. While he did that he grabbed you by the lower back, pulling you until your body collided with his crotch which, if it wasn't already hard, wouldn't take long.

His kisses were clumsy due to urgency and after a while he moved away from your mouth to descend to your neck. Sometimes he left a kiss or two, at most, but this time he seemed to want to take his time. His tongue ran all over your skin, freshly washed, and he spread caresses without restraint. Every place the dragon's lips touched lit up with fire and his hips grinding against you weren't doing much for the blush on your cheeks. Inevitably you began to sigh from so many stimuli, right at the level of his ear, which only motivated him to continue.

As best he could he pulled the laces on the back of your dress and it didn't take long to get rid of the restraints. He slid one of your sleeves over your shoulder to begin kissing that section, the same way he had done with your neck. An indiscreet moan escaped you as your husband bit into your soft flesh and you could feel him smile against your skin.

“You're mine, right?” he sighed brokenly. You had tilted your head back to give him more space and he took the opportunity to lower the entire torso of your dress. “Only mine…”

With the same devotion he took care of your breasts and you couldn't do anything but continue alternating between sighs and some muffled moans. You could feel how he longed for you, eager to be able to kiss every inch of your skin even if it took him the entire night. Suddenly your body had become a temple, an object worthy of worship. The prince continued to distribute kisses that each time descended towards your belly, until with one hand he violently threw everything that was on the table and you ended up lying completely on it. Then he walked away.

You were about to ask what had happened when he took care of taking off your ballerina flats and throwing them somewhere far away in the room, only to stretch your leg up to the height of his torso to start kissing it. No one, not even him, had ever done that to you, so it was natural for you to be dismayed. His kisses moved quickly up your thigh and once he did that, he dropped to his knees in front of you. The skirt of your dress blocked your view and when you tried to get up something made you scream. Aegon had bitten into the tender flesh of your thighs, quite close to your crotch and with more force than he had hit your shoulder. You could only imagine his face when he carefully licked the mark he had surely left on you, once again making your chest exhale a moan.

What he did next and the sensation it caused, you could never have even imagined. That mouth, which most of the time was used for ironic puns and sloppy kisses, was now taking expert care of all of your pussy. Aegon was devouring you completely, touching just where it was necessary to make you squirm on the table. He wasn't careful at all; it was a touch hungry and extremely dirty.

You wanted to hold on as much as you could to keep yourself attached to reality, but it was difficult with your husband eating you like that. One of his arms wrapped around your leg and placed it over his shoulder, probably to give him better access. You had never moaned like that in his presence and it only made him harder and harder beneath the tight fabric of his breeches.

The pleasure was barely getting to your head when he stopped and a dissatisfied grunt escaped you shamelessly. Aegon laughed unabashedly at this, pleased at the control he had gained over you, and then went up again to kiss you hungrily. You couldn't do anything but welcome his salty lips and you moaned against him as he leaned against your body and you could feel his crotch, not knowing if it was your own wetness or his that was present.

He held you from behind and, without stopping kissing you, carried you until he placed you on the bed. You considered it somewhat unfair that your husband already had you trembling beneath him and still hadn't taken off a single piece of clothing, but your complaints were silenced when he hurriedly pulled his shirt over his head and took off his breeches in record time. In the same way, he pulled your dress towards your legs so that a second later it ended up on the floor, along with everything else.

He knelt down on the mattress and spread your legs roughly, lining himself up with your entrance. He began to rub the tip of his member up and down your already wet center and that did nothing but drive you crazy again.

When a delicate, pleading, «please» escaped your swollen lips, Aegon knew it was more stimulating to have you begging for him than to worry about only satisfying himself.

He played with you for a while longer, smiling from ear to ear at the sight of his delicate, pretty wife vibrating from having him close, until he finally plunged into you. For the first time there was enough wetness in you that the stroke felt satisfying rather than painful and both of you let out a delicious moan.

He set the pace, slow at first, but after a while his movements became more desperate. He wanted to get to the core of you, he wanted to fill you completely so you knew that only he could make you feel that way. When his body began to ache he leaned towards you, resting each of his arms on the side of your head and looking directly at you. You had stopped looking away from him, now you were looking at him with your mouth open with pleasure, your eyes watery and your pupils dilated on your completely flushed cheeks.

“Aegon,” you sobbed pathetically, clouded by everything you were experiencing and proving that it wasn't long before you reached your orgasm.

You had never called him by his name. You always referred to him as «your grace», «prince» or «husband», at best. So hearing his name come out of your lips like that, under those circumstances, was too much for him to bear.

Knowing that he couldn't last much longer, one of his hands moved down to rest his thumb on your clit and once there he began to make erratic circles. You closed your eyes, completely seized by pleasure and a couple more thrusts were enough to make you lose the battle. Hearing your whimpers, combined with the way your walls squeezed him, was enough to make him cum too. With trembling legs you felt the warm liquid filling you and, for the first time, it was comforting.

When Aegon plopped down next to you, you immediately missed his body warmth. Both of you were breathing heavily, trying to catch the breath that the orgasm had taken from you. You could clearly feel your heartbeat bouncing off your bare chest and the stinging sensation coming from your crotch and running through your entire body was something you could get used to. Your hair had stuck to your face from the sweat and not to mention your lips, which you felt were burning from your husband's attention.

Aegon had already had many orgasms in his life so this time he decided to turn his gaze a little to see you enjoying yours. The mere idea that he was responsible for your condition made him completely shake.

“You look beautiful,” he blurted out suddenly. You thought he had heard wrong because of the rush, but from the way he was smiling at you, you highly doubted it. “Just like that”

“Like what?”

“Freshly fucked. Well fucked” he corrected himself.

A laugh bubbled up from within you and you blushed even more, if that was possible, perhaps from the nerves and elation of what had just happened. The man stood up a little from his seat and leaned down to kiss you, although this time he did it with a calm and affection that you never thought you would see in him. It was just that he couldn't deny it anymore; from that moment on he would become an open book for you, where you could see all his feelings, desires and fears.

“I don't know why you're doing this,” you suddenly murmured and Aegon pulled away enough to look at you “And I don't know why you've been acting like this these past few months. But I like it. I think it's a good time for you to know."

“You said I could choose who I am,” he said meekly. One of his hands grabbed your chin and stole another fleeting kiss from you. “I haven't forgotten, every word is present in my head. It's just... sometimes it's hard. And I thought I would have a better chance with you, even with the things I did to you when we got married”

You smiled at him and were happy to know that the change in his behavior was because of the talk you once had with him. If he continued like this, ignoring the demons inside him and trying to be better, then your marriage had a chance to become more than just a condemnation.

Driven by the pleasant feeling growing in your chest you reached out towards him to reward him with a kiss. The man's breath hitched when you pushed him to the side and reversed roles, now you being the one pampering him while he was lying down. There was a playful glint in your husband's eyes as you looked at him.

“Do you know this is the first time you kissed me?” he exhaled softly.

You couldn't believe that was possible and for a few seconds you tried to remember so you could contradict him. But every time you remembered you realized that it was always him who initiated the contact to which you only responded, so, effectively, it was the first kiss you gave him out of conviction.

Maybe it was an omen that something good was coming.

Still happy with how everything had turned out, you snuggled into his side, your head resting on his chest while he hugged you and threw a sheet over your bodies. You planted a hand on his bare skin and began drumming your fingers, alternating with small circles made with the greatest delicacy.

You were silent for a long time, you even thought that your husband had fallen asleep until you heard him speak again:

“It's also the first time I'm doing this.”

“Are you talking about sex, your grace?”

“No, I'm talking about cuddling,” he confessed softly, his hand caressing your back the same way you did with him, “And don't call me your majesty anymore. I am Aegon. Or my prince, at any rate. But my is important”

With the affection worthy of a wife, you raised your head to place a kiss on his cheek and assured him that from now on you would call him that in the privacy of your chambers.

Suddenly, after another moment of silence, Aegon pulled you close to him as if afraid you were going to suddenly evaporate. Intending to calm his fears, you climbed until you were on top of his body, hiding your head in his neck so that the distance became minimal.

There was silence for another couple of minutes.

“Do you think I can ever be forgiven?”

Apparently the atmosphere of the moment had managed to soften the boy's heart.

“We can all be absolved, Aegon.”

"And you?"

"Me what?"

“Do you think you can ever love me?” you were quiet for a second, thinking about your response. Then, he added “Or could you at least try? It would be a nice detail for me. No one has ever done it before.”

Not wanting to ruin the mood with a false word you decided to kiss his neck gently and that was enough of an answer for him. He would have to trust in your goodwill and that he could continue to restrain his impulses to keep this newly discovered gem that was his wife. With some luck you could even be that person he prayed for so much all his life, one with whom he could feel safe.

The slowing of the man's breathing revealed to you that he had already fallen asleep and you discovered that it seemed not so bad to find yourself in that position, sheltered by your lover's arms.

Under that scenario, the idea of eventually loving Prince Aegon Targaryen no longer sounded so far-fetched.

[beloveds-embrace]

More roomate!au thoughts because, again, my brain never stops. When you move in with them, dont expect to be able to do anything by yourself ever again (unless its housework and their away), your car needs fuel? Dont worry Simon will go with you and fill it up for you and dont even think about trying to pay for it yourself, you tried once and Simon just glared at you so you tucked your card back into your purse. You need to go get a few supplies for college, Price and Gaz are joining you and giving their opinions about the best laptop to get or the best stationary (they fill out enough paperwork that they know the best ones). You're cooking them dinner, Johnnys right by your side following your every order and helping to wash up while you go relax on the sofa waiting for whatevers in the oven. And you will want for nothing, you see a pair of shoes you want while out shopping but their outside of your price range, they arrive at your door a week later just after the boys deploy, you see a pretty necklace on TV and comment on it, Johnnys there behind you fastening it just before your next night out. You lament that your mattess and bed are uncomfortable, a new one arrives the next and it just so happens to be big enough to fit all 5 of you on it.

Yeah, the boys would 1000% give you princess treatment

My mind is still on that drabble so i absolutely love this so so so very much god yes….

Original post

It doesn’t end there, of course. God, they do so, so much for you.

It’s Simon who stands right outside the bathroom door when you get sick late at night, trying to be quiet and not bother anyone yet when you tell him he should go to sleep, you’ll be fine, he doesn’t even let you finish your sentence.

“Don’t need sleep,” he grunts, pulling you against his body. Despite your protests, his warmth alone makes you melt. “Jus’ tell me what you need.”

It’s Gaz who gifts you with a surprise spa day kit after he notices how exhausted you look during your exams, gently pushing aside your laptop. “You look knackered, lovie,” he murmurs. “Let me take care of you, alright? You always spoil us when we return anyways, this the least we can do.”

It’s Johnny who immediately knows your day has been shit just from listening the way you shuffle in, shoulders slumped and head downcast.

“Someone steal yer sunshine, hen?”

“Don’t wanna talk about it, Johnny,” you mumble tiredly, yet you have no energy to refuse when he leads you to the couch. “Bad day. I’ll just go to my room-“

“Nah, none o’ that,” he shakes his head, taking your bag. “Sit down, aye? I’ll fix you up something warm.” Though he makes sure to drap a blanket over yours shoulders before he goes into the kitchen, muttering about food.

It’s Price who goes hand in hand with your safety. All of them do make you feel safe but John is just- a bit different.

Once, you were being followed after you finished shopping and like an idiot, you’d forgotten your usual pepper spray you carried. You knew you were being followed because you could feel the eyes constantly on you and you circled the same area several times. Your hands are shaking when you text him, praying to every god-

- john

- Yes, love?

You are too afraid to even crack a smile at his serious punctuation.

- someones following me idk what to d

You don’t wait for him to reply. Just nervously, with too many typos, you tell him where you are and if please can he come or any of the men-

When John appears by your side in no less than five minutes, he just pulls you close to his side.

“Come on, sweetheart.” He ushers you along. “Bloke’s been dealt with. Give me your backs, yeah? Next time tell me or any of the muppets to join you.”

Too late you notice the blood splatters on his knuckles.

Also, remember when I said the original ad had been because they wanted someone to keep the place tidy when they are away? That doesn’t apply when they are home. If they see you cleaning or cooking, they are helping- nu uh, no complaints allowed, they are not about to let you slave away when you have four very capable men at your beck and call.

Hell, once it was Johnny who saw you scrubbing the kitchen floors and he just picked you up and placed you on the counter, tsking at you.

In a few hours, John returned to find all of them cleaning the kitchen; Soap was now dusting, Gaz vaccuming, and Simon wiping the counters.

And you were bundled in the couch corner, cozy and cute.

“What’s all this?” He asked, an eyebrow raised, and you shrug.

“She was tryin’ to clean.” Johnny grumbled from the corner.

“And you didn’t stop her sooner?”

“Bloody stubborn bird,” Ghost was the one who replied this time, not even looking up.

You opened your mouth to argue, but the look John fixed you with made you shut your mouth with a click.

“Good girl.”

The warmth on your cheeks was definitely not from overworking, at least.

You mention needing new clothes? You wake up to Simon’s credit card on your nightstand with a note ordering you to use it. “Strangely”, you can’t find neither your own card nor your wallet.

You also can’t find him, but Kyle’s there and oh wow! He has nothing to do so he will in fact be joining you (and making you model the dresses and outfits and send pictures to the others so you can be drowned in compliments)!

Also i like to hc that john(s) are both huge coffee lovers and they do in fact have those huge, fancy coffee machines yk? They are insulted when they see you drink the cheap, shitty, tasteless instant coffee you are surviving on and from then on, you will wake up every day to warm, fresh coffee made for you <33

Anyways gods i love them sm can you tell 😩😩

[dollfacefantasy]

SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL ♡

pairing: homelander x fem!reader

summary: homelander has taken an interest in you, vought's new intern. no matter how you look at it, as a good or bad thing, it ends the same way: him getting what he wants.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, dubcon, p in v, oral (m receiving), body worship, sir kink, obsessive behavior, manipulation/coercion, age gap (reader in early 20s)

wc: 7.7k (oops lol)

a/n: hehe. never thought i would write for this man but it was pretty fun :) comm for my sweet beloved @gor3-hound love you so very much mwah mwah <33

At the junction of the V-shaped table, Homelander sat. With his back to the skyline and his gloved hands folded in front of him, he held the posture of a statue. Ashley had been rambling on and on and fucking on for the past five minutes about shit he couldn't care less about. Her nasally voice bounced off the tile floors and painted ceiling, ricocheting around him like a rogue bullet. Only his impregnable skin didn't protect him from the discomfort of this situation.

It was moments like these that really made him regret killing Stillwell.

That woman knew how to handle things. As manipulative as she could be, at least she wasn't absolutely insufferable. How could Stan let Ashley replace her? She was a poor excuse of just about everything. Absolutely spineless, unintelligent, reactionary, and opportunistic. He really couldn't picture any person on this Earth genuinely liking her.

However in the midst of his mental complaints, he realized that the annoying sound of her speaking was directed at him. All the other stares in the room were zeroed in on him too. A-Train observed in cautious silence. Noir's goggles reflected Homelander's own image right back at him. Maeve judged with a sideways glance. And Starlight prepared for the worst.

He tore his own bright blue eyes from the door opposite the table and refocused them on Ashley. They scanned over her thinning ginger locks down to her gaudy outfit - a piss poor attempt at imitating power.

"What?" he asked, his voice cutting through the air with a force similar to one of Maeve's swords.

Ashley blinked in return. Fear swirled in her wide eyes. She tried to maintain that empowered appearance she so desperately wished was real, but he could see the innate urge to cower bubbling within her.

"Was that lineup for the funeral ok with you, Homelander? A-Train and Noir open, Starlight sings, and then you close?" she repeated.

Now it was his turn to blink. Like he could actually give a shit about the order of segments for Translucent's funeral. He swallowed hard. While she projected a mirage of power, he had to do the same with level-headedness.

"That's fine, Ashley. Have those two go first, and Starlight can follow up with Amazing Grace or whatever shitty hymns they teach in that hick town she's from, and then I can finish us out," he responded.

He could see how her knuckles were going white around the edge of her clipboard. She gripped it for comfort, as if that could save her from his potential wrath. It only irritated him more. If he wanted her dead, he would turn her to ashes where she stood. How hard she braced herself in advance wouldn't matter in the slightest. But people could be so foolish in moments of terror.

"Well speaking of that," she said before clearing her throat, an attempt at a natural transition, "We were trying to decide what song she would sing. Maybe one of our originals? Or do you think it would be more tasteful to go with something from an outside source?"

Gritting his teeth, he buried the urge to unleash the bright beams of red from his sockets. His hands slid off one another and pressed down onto the cool table.

"Do you really need me to decide what song is going to send Translucent to the grave?" he replied, "I don't care what you play, and no one else attending will either. They'll be focused on working up some tears for the useless dipshit they never had the displeasure of knowing. Instead of trying to gain their approval, we should be working on finding the next member of the Seven who can replace him. There's no use dwelling on the past. We need to be preparing for the future."

He paused to let his words permeate the room, giving everyone a chance to absorb the sentiment and adapt accordingly. With his pupils still trained on Ashley, he planned on continuing his tirade, but his train of thought came to an abrupt halt.

Soft pitter-patters of footsteps clacked down the hall outside this room. They sounded in a delicate rhythm, only audible to him. As they grew louder, he caught the scent of the source too. Airy and light. A stark contrast to the brash perfume Ashley doused herself in.

The doors at the front of the room slid apart to reveal you.

You stood there for a moment. The realization that you'd interrupted something was visible in your eyes. The small spheres cast down as you wobbled in like a fawn that sensed wolves watching from nearby.

Ashley turned to face you, a glower already set on her features. The resentment she held for everyone else in this building awoke from its usual dormant slumber because there was finally someone weaker she could take it out on.

Once you reached her, your hand rose and gave her a thin stack of papers. 

"I'm sorry for interrupting. It's a memo from 82. They made it sound urgent," you explained, everything about your temperament meek and timid.

After a brief pause to let you marinate in the few moments before your inevitable humiliation, she snatched the papers from you. Her eyes roamed over the page with disinterest. Even if the information conveyed by the small black letters was important, he doubted she would give it any reaction. She wanted to lash out, and she was going to, whether it was justified or not.

"They couldn't have emailed me this?" she snapped, as if that was something you could control.

"I don't know. I'm sorry. I'll check next time," you offered.

"You better or you'll run out of next times," she threatened, "Incompetence like this won't fly here. You're in the big leagues now, so act like it. Think before you do something instead of taking commands like a lap dog."

"I'm sorry," you replied, ducking your head again.

"Don't be sorry, just do better," she commanded.

"I will," you agreed.

"Good. Just get out of here now. Go pick up my lunch," she told you.

His lips curled into a scowl as he watched the scene play out. It was pathetic - not you, but Ashley. He hated seeing the fucking smirk on her face as you walked away. She had nothing to be smug about. She was nothing more than a feral coyote going after the scraps the other predators didn't take.

To make matters worse, when she returned her attention to the group at the table, she saw the look on his face. She saw the disdain, but instead of striking regret into her, it only deepened her sense of self-satisfaction.

She thought the look was for you. That he was disgusted with your mistake. Annoyed with your intrusion.

He couldn't have that. Not when that assumption was the farthest thing from the truth. Honestly, he didn't know if he was even capable of feeling such ire towards you. Not his precious little fawn.

Rising from his seat, his glare remained on Ashley. She did show a little fear then.

"You know, I don't have all day, Ashley. I'll open Translucent's funeral, Starlight will follow up with a song, and that will be it. A-Train and Noir can have the day off, because let's be honest, nobody will give shit either way," he mocked.

"But, sir-" she said, clearly confused by his sudden impending departure.

"I have more important things to deal with. If you need anything else, I'm sure one of the others can help you," he dismissed.

With that, he stepped back from the table and began heading to the doors. He hoped if he was fast enough he could still catch you. Even in a building as sleek and modern as this one, the elevators could be quite slow.

Walking out into the hall, his head swiveled in the direction you would have gone. For once, his own portrait didn't catch his eye. He didn't even think about stopping by Stillwell's office to reminisce. Instead, he just headed down towards the elevator. His red boots thudded across smooth tile in rapid succession, covering the path you'd just taken.

Finally, after a few feet, he spotted you. Bottom lip pulled between your teeth. Eyes glossy with embarrassment. Tip of your polished shoe tapping against the ground. You startled when his voice boomed across the space, calling out your name. So cute.

You looked at him with fear in your eyes, but disgust didn't fester in the pit of his stomach like it did when others gave him that anxious stare. Another feeling bloomed inside him, one he couldn't really place. It was just that the nervous gleam over your pupils didn't make him hate himself and all the circumstances of his life that put him in his position.

Instead, your wide eyes and pouty lips made him feel strong. You made him feel like a hero. A real one, not the artificial caricature that Vought projected to the world. With you nearby, he felt like the kind of guy who deserved the American flag blowing off his back with a pretty girl cradled in his arms and a dead enemy at his feet. When you gazed up at him, he could only imagine that the pride rushing through his chest and confidence pooling between his hips was the feeling his creators intended for him.

"Did you need something from me, sir?" you asked, reminding him that he actually had to provide a reason to talk to you. Just wanting to stare at you like a psychopath would not suffice unfortunately.

"Oh no," he waved off, "The meeting just finished up. I was heading out too. I saw you, and I realized I haven't really taken the time to get to know you yet, which is unfortunate because I usually like to be familiar with the newer people we have working with us."

A complete lie. Before you, he didn't remember ever giving any of the interns a second glance. They were true nuisances. They were Ashleys.

"Oh... well I'm around whenever you wanna talk. Ashley keeps me busy, but I'm sure I could make an exception for you," you replied.

"You absolutely can make an exception for me," he chuckled, "If Ashley gives you any trouble, just let me know, and I'll make sure she remembers who's really in charge around here."

It wasn't until he heard your heart rate increase that he realized those words probably came off as threatening. Well, they were threatening, but you weren't supposed to see him that way.

"I'm kidding," he forced out with a laugh, "Just joking around like I do... I just don't want you to worry about getting in some kind of trouble for me sniffing around you."

You huffed out an awkward laugh of your own and nodded.  "I'll be sure to make some time for you in the future then and let Ashley know it was at your direction."

"Great," he said with probably too much enthusiasm. 

His jaw clenched into one of his usual tight smiles. He averted his eyes from you and looked towards the numbers on the elevator. Fuck, it was reaching the bottom. He didn't want to let you go, but it wasn't like he could just stroll down the street with you to go get Ashley's lunch. His mind scrambled to come up with a solution.

But like your earlier intrusion into the meeting, your gentle voice cuts through the hurricane forming in his head.

"Are you alright, sir?" you ask, anxious concern written all over your features.

He refocused on you and nodded. His arm extended out behind you, his palm landing against the elevator wall. As he leaned in, he could smell your adrenaline spiking. He could hear the shift of your shoe against the ground. If only he possessed a sixth sense for the mind, so he could know what little thoughts about him were flitting through your head.

"I'm fine. You don't need to worry about me," he answered. He smiled down at you, observing the slight nod you gave him in return.

"Of course not. It probably seems silly coming from me," you said.

His brows raised in amusement. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

He saw the flash of regret in your eyes. The one people always gave him when he asked a question in that tone. The one that came from the panic of realizing they may have said something that offended Homelander.

You suppressed it pretty well though and brought out a smile that gave the impression that you hoped he was messing with you instead.

"Well you know... because you're you," you said and tilted your head in an innocent way that made his chest ache.

He chuckled that charming, prepackaged laugh that had been trained into him. "Even I can appreciate someone taking an interest in checking on me," he replied.

It was maddening, how bad he wanted you. He wasn't even sure when this craving had sprouted inside him. He had been so preoccupied with his affinity for Stillwell that his fixation with you struck him like a glass window in front of a flying bird. But no matter the timeframe in which it blossomed, it had taken root by now and wasn't going to go away on its own.

When he looked at you like this - staring up at him with earnest fascination - his mind drifted to darker places all on its own. He couldn't stop it if he wanted to (and really, he didn't want to). It's just how was he not supposed to be aware of the fact that it would be all too easy to take you back to his room? How could he not think about what it would feel like to have your fragile body beneath his own in private? How could he not wonder what you'd sound like crying out in a sinful mix of pleasure and pain?

Hell, how was he supposed to pretend like he couldn't just bend you over and fuck you dumb right here in the middle of this elevator if he wanted to? No one would be able to stop him. There wouldn't be a thing they could do other than watch. They could stare in horror as he used you like he deserved, as he pounded into your warm, soft, dripping hole like he needed...

Unfortunately, painting that picture in his head had his blood rushing South. He felt the subtle simmer of desire in his pelvis, and he knew in no time his length would be filling out. This suit gave him no way of hiding it either. Clearly, whoever made it hadn't anticipated the Homelander popping a boner on the job.

But luckily for him, the elevator chimed with its arrival at the bottom floor. He straightened out as you looked ahead in preparation of your departure. But before you could go, he grabbed your arm. His touch was tender, holding the same force he'd use when cradling a baby at a photo-op.

"Maybe later tonight you'd like to take me up on one of those talks? After you're done for the day, you could stop by my place. The sooner the better, right?" he asked.

Your eyes widened ever so slightly, but you still nodded. "Um... sure thing. I'll head up once I've finished all my work. It should be around six if that's ok?" you offered.

"Yeah, that works for me. I'll be waiting," he said in an attempt to be playful.

You smiled once more and then headed out of the elevator. His fingertips dragged down your arm to your wrist as you walked away before you finally slipped from his grasp. He could hear your heart pounding faster than your footsteps as you headed towards the exit of the building.

At six o'clock sharp, a knock sounded through his penthouse. And it only took him a few seconds to swing the door open and greet you.

"There she is," he beamed with exaggerated politeness.

You smiled modestly in return, shrugging and smoothing out a crease in your blouse. "I couldn't let the leader of the seven down," you joked.

He scoffed but opened the door wider, beckoning you into his place. You took the invitation and crossed the threshold. Your eyes glanced around the place, taking note of all the things in the apartment that housed the most powerful man on Earth.

The American flag taking up an entire wall almost stopped you in your tracks. It would've been funny if it was someone else, but because it belonged to him, it stood there like a warning. You tried not to show how daunting you found it. Average people could be touchy about that famous piece of cloth. You didn't want to find out if the strongest supe felt the same through means of offending him. 

In place of letting that bother you, you shifted your attention over to all the historical pictures hanging on the walls and the sleek surfaces and drawers filled with things you couldn't begin to imagine. Your eyes casted over the statues accenting the space as well. It was all so very polished. It looked like what you'd expect the Homelander entry in an Ikea catalog to be.

"So what do you think?" he asked. He knew his words came off as stiff. Probably a little stilted sounding. He just couldn't help it. For the first time, he couldn't get a read on how you felt through physical signs alone. And right now, he really really wanted you to like him.

"It's... impressive," you answered.

But he could hear the hesitation in your voice. In each word, there was the same wavering quality to it that you get when Ashley grilled you in front of an audience. It wasn't the precious reverence that he saw in the elevator. The nervous kind of admiration you held for someone above your standing. This was just plain anxiety, and that served no purpose to him. 

Despite your trepidation however, you walked forward to the window at the back of the place. You looked out over the city in awe.

"I would love to live somewhere high up like this," you said.

He came up from behind to stand next to you in front of the glass panes. His eyes landed on your face. You stared out the window, wonder twinkling in your eyes. Your voice sounded almost breathless. It was adorable.

"No fear of heights?" he asked.

"Not when it comes to being inside. Maybe I'd be nervous if we were on a balcony or something," you replied.

"Oh come on. You'd have nothing to worry about if you were with me. I'd never let you fall," he said, dropping his voice a few octaves.

You made that cute little face again when those words hit your ears. Your eyes widened before they fell to look at your shoes. So modest, the way you shied away. He wondered if you were always so timid or if it was only when a god amongst men like himself flirted with you.

He chuckled and reached out, tilting your chin back up to look at him. "You don't need to be nervous," he soothed, "There's no safer place to be than with the Homelander, right?"

You nodded right along. His words left no room for objection.

"Good girl," he smirked and dragged a gloved thumb over your cheek. He pulled his hand back and stepped in the direction of the brown leather sectional that sat in the middle of the room.

"Come over here and sit down. We can talk," he directed.

Following him to the large couch, you took your seat near the corner. You assumed he'd sit at the other end or at least towards the middle of the perpendicular cushions, but no. He sat down in the corner with you. His body was at most a foot away.

He continued to smile at you though he didn't speak. It felt odd, sitting there in silence across from him. He wasn't doing anything overtly threatening, yet you still felt at his mercy.

"So, do you like it here so far? Do you feel like you're fitting into the Vought family?" he asked with a bit of an edge to that second word.

You nodded again. A relieved breath seeped from your lungs as the tense void in conversation came to an end. "Yeah, it's nice here. I feel like I'm learning a lot."

He chuckled and leaned back against the stiff backing of the sofa. His muscular arm draped along the top. Though it wasn't his intention to draw your focus there, he caught the way your eyes dragged over his bicep.

"That's good," he said, "It can be a lot when you're new. I wouldn't want you feeling overwhelmed."

"That's nice of you. I appreciate it, but I'm used to a busy schedule," you replied.

"You're freshly graduated, aren't you?" he checked.

"Yeah," you said, your lips quirking upwards at his guess.

"I thought so. You have that cute, wide-eyed, optimistic thing going for you."

A small laugh leaves your lips. "I know. Ashley said I'll grow out of it by the end of this quarter."

His face dropped, and he almost abandoned the prince charming act he was attempting to pull off for you. The mere mention of Ashley was enough to irk him, but the thought that she was trying to change you? Not only change you but jade you. To strip away the soft and sweet qualities that hooked him on you in the first place. It was criminal. He couldn't hide his disdain.

"You shouldn't listen to her," he said. He wasn't angry, but his cadence held intensity. "Ashley's problem is Ashley. To be honest, I don't even know why they gave her an intern. It's not like she'd be good at teaching anything when she still doesn't understand most things about our business herself."

Your fingers dug into the edge of your seat. It wouldn't have been significant in a normal conversation, but when speaking with a man who could hear a pin drop forty stories down, he noticed.

"You're still nervous," he observed.

In an instant, your hands flew to your lap, like you knew what gave your anxiety away. You fidgeted with the hem of your skirt and shrugged.

"A little," you admitted.

"Are you scared of me?" he asked.

You shook your head without even thinking about the question.

"No, it's not that. I swear," you reassured, "It's just that this is a big deal for me. I'm really honored you want to get to know me, and I just want to make a good impression."

"You don't need to worry about that. I wouldn't have invited you here if I didn't have a good impression of you," he said.

You sighed slightly, letting out a bit of tension, but he could still smell that boosted cortisol running through your blood.

"Come here," he ordered, his voice soft but undeniably firm.

"What?" you asked.

A puff of amused air blew from his nostrils. "Come here," he repeated, "Sit closer."

As if you needed the guidance, he patted the space directly beside his hip. He could see the uncertainty in your eyes even after the gesture. The lack of understanding toward his reasoning persisted. Regardless of your skepticism however, you scooted in his direction and ended up where he wanted you.

"That's better," he said.

With careful fingers, he slipped the glove off his right hand. Your eyes locked on it in subtle awe. You'd seen this man on billboards and commercials for years. His face dominated newscasts. His voice broadcast over the radio on a weekly basis. Still, you had never seen such a human part of him. Five fingers and a palm reaching for your own.

They clasped around your hand. His skin was smooth. The gloves preserved them from any marks of experience.

"Did Ashley warn you about me?" he asked, drawing your eyes back to his own.

Your heart thundered, but you couldn't lie. Never had Vought bragged about Homelander being a human lie detector, but in this moment, you felt like that was the case.

"Yes," you responded.

He clicked his tongue in disapproval. "You didn't believe her, did you?" he asked.

You could tell he already knew the answer. He just wanted to hear it.

"Yes," you whispered again.

"What did she tell you?"

It was hard to remember that conversation you'd had a few weeks ago with Ashley. Feeling like you were two seconds away from having lasers beamed through your skull made minute details fuzzy and distant, but you manage to choke a few out anyways.

"She said that you have a very specific vision for the Seven, and that you'll do anything to make your dreams reality. She was just saying you're ambitious. That you care about the greater good," you summarized.

"I have a feeling you're saying it a lot nicer than she did," he teased. He could feel the fear rolling off of you in waves, and in a moment, he would rectify that. But for right now, he didn't mind letting his precious little fawn tremble in terror for a few moments more.

"Yeah, she can be kind of blunt," you said with a shaky laugh.

"That's one word for it," he said.

"She's not gonna get in trouble because of what I said, is she?" you asked.

He couldn't help laughing at that. The sound came out low and throaty. You were just so fucking pure. Worried about protecting someone who wouldn't hesitate for a second to sell you out if it meant she could climb up another rung on the corporate ladder.

His exposed thumb rubbed back and forth over your knuckles. "No. Of course not. We're just talking," he said.

He leaned in closer to you, positioning his mouth in close proximity to your ear. His free hand came up to cup your jaw.

"I appreciate your honesty though. Ashley probably couldn't tell you this, but I appreciate a loyal girl like you," he murmured.

On both your hand and through his glove in contact with your chin, he could feel your skin heat up.

"Oh... thank you, sir," you said.

He chuckled. His fingers squished into the flesh of your cheeks, making your lips puff out as though they were seeking a kiss.

"So polite, but I like that. We need more people here who understand their place," he said.

At this point, the gravity of your circumstances began to settle on you. Your fear had worn off a bit, and you realized what a compromising position he had you in. With one tight squeeze, he could crush every bone in your face.

Out of instinct, you tried pulling back a little. You didn't make it obvious, only attempting to gain a few inches of space.

That was a few inches too many though. He tightened his grip and kept you where he wanted you.

"Ah ah," he tutted, "How many times do I have to tell you that you don't need to be scared? I'm not going to hurt you."

You dropped the resistance right then and there. It wasn't worth pursuing. If he didn't want you getting away, you weren't getting away.

He took a few more seconds to study your face, taking in every minutiae of your expressions. Then, his hands dropped to your waist, and he pulled you into his lap. His thighs were firm against your ass, both rigid in how he carried himself and defined from the pure muscle that made them up.

His hands smoothed up and down your sides, coasting over each crease in your blouse. He massaged your soft tissue with gentle squeezes from the beginning of your bra down to the swell of your hips.

"God, you're beautiful," he muttered, "You fit here like you were made for me."

You vibrated in his grasp. He could feel the way you quivered with the urge to pull away.

"Thank you, s-sir," you stammered, "I really appreciate it but-"

"But nothing," he cut you off.

"But I don't think we should be... doing this," you tried to continue anyway.

"Why not?" he asked. Though his tone made it obvious that no matter what reason you provided, it wouldn't change his mind.

"Because you're like my boss, y'know? And I worked really hard to get my spot here, and I don't want people thinking I slept my way to where I am," you explained, "You're really nice, and I admire you a lot, but it wouldn't be right."

He didn't respond immediately. He paused and let your words hang in the air for a few moments.

"You know," he finally spoke, "I don't think you understand how things work around here. It doesn't matter what anyone else in this building thinks. Only me."

You blinked at him, unsure of how to respond to such an assertion. It didn't matter though. He continued without your input.

"What I do with you, how I feel about you - no one else will know about it unless you tell them. But even if you do and even if they care, there isn't a thing they'll do about it. There's not a thing they can do about it," he continued.

"I still don't think it's a good idea," you maintained.

"Good thing this isn't for you to think about then," he mocked, "You're a fast learner. You'll figure it out soon enough. I am God in this tower. And a god doesn't listen to his subjects. He guides them. He knows best."

One of his hands slid up your tummy and over your chest onto your throat. He cupped your jaw and swiped his thumb back and forth across your bottom lip.

"What did Ashley tell you about me?" he asked.

"That no one gets in your way."

"Good. And she was right. No one gets in my way. Nothing stops me from getting what I want. And I've wanted you for too fucking long not to try you out."

That set of fingers on your chin pulled your face towards his and brought you into a kiss. You froze against his lips. It felt as though all of time stopped. This high up, you couldn't hear the sounds of the city outside the penthouse. No one existed in this moment but you and him.

Unlike you, he melted into the exchange. He sighed against your skin and pulled you flush against his toned body. After a second to let you come to terms with what was happening, he kissed you again. His lips sucked on yours gently, attempting to coax you into returning the affection.

The most he got is you puckering them up ever so slightly.

He pulled away with frustration in his eyes and grabbed your face, jerking you a little to look at him.

"Don't act like you don't want this. I know you do," he said, "You're scared, but you don't need to be. Relax and let yourself enjoy this. It's not everyday that the most powerful man on earth wants to fuck you."

Your eyes blew up like little saucers, but before you could really process the directness of what he'd said, he was kissing you again. This time it wasn't as nerve wracking. You softened up a little and kissed back.

You didn't put much effort into it. Your lips responded like this was a juvenile first date. But he didn't let up. He didn't let you give him anything less than your best. His hands roamed across your body. They groped and fondled your breasts and then migrated South to feel up your ass through your pencil skirt.

Your muscles started to loosen up after a minute or so. You told yourself this wasn't so bad. He was being gentle so far, and for someone with his abilities, you wanted it to stay that way. You brought your hand up to his face and cupped his cheek. With that as leverage, you deepened the kiss.

He groaned as soon as you started to give in. His hands fell to your hips and tugged you so that you were straddling him. He smacked your ass, the sound echoing around his apartment. You could tell he held back. A real spank from Homelander could shatter your hip, but this one barely even stung. Maybe he did like you.

His fingers came up and with a sharp tug, he popped the front of your top loose. The column of buttons sprung free. The strips of cloth fell away to each of your sides, exposing a sliver of your skin. He furthered it by pulling off the garment entirely. His eyes trailed along your bare shoulders to your collar bone before finally landing on your breasts. He gave them a firm squeeze, kneading them through the barrier of your bra.

Meanwhile you rolled your hips down on his lap. Immediately, you felt his bulge that had risen to attention between your thighs. You did it again and then again. Each time you ground yourself against him with more pressure.

He grunted, and his eyes fluttered. His hands returned to your waist and gripped you hard, guiding your movements. He seemed transfixed for a few moments, as if he couldn't decide his next move.

After a few seconds though, he got his momentum back. He yanked you off his lap and flipped over so that you were seated on the couch again.

He rose to his feet before you. There your eyes scanned over his body from his tousled blond hair and his kiss-swollen red lips to his sculpted abdomen and his swelling erection. You reached out to touch him, but he stopped your hand mid-air.

Once your arm was limp on the couch again, he removed his other glove. He dropped it to the floor before bringing his right boot to the spot on the sofa next to you. He unzipped the red shoe and then discarded it like he had with the other item. The other boot followed the same routine.

"I don't let just anyone see me like this," he told you as his fingers began to undo his collar, "You should feel lucky."

Lucky wasn't the word you would use to describe your feelings in this situation. Maybe special. Or distinct. Individual. Either way, you continued to watch. Your eyes glided over his figure as he pulled away the tight blue costume that seemed like a second-skin for how much he wore it.

His defined chest came into view. Your reluctance hadn't vanished all together just yet, but at this point, it was fading fast. Pale hair dusted the muscular expanse and trailed down his stomach to the waistband of the bottoms. The waistband he soon hooked his fingers over and peeled down.

He dropped the scaled navy fabric to the ground before kicking it away, leaving himself in just a small pair of boxers. His hand came down and rubbed the swollen tent at the front while his eyes lingered on you.

"Do you want to touch?" he asked.

You nodded. It wasn't a hard decision. This was still a bad idea. You hadn't changed your mind on that. But at this point, what else was there to do? Defying Homelander wasn't an option for anyone on this planet ever. You were no different.

"Ask," he commanded.

"Please can I touch you?" you said.

"Please what?"

"Please, sir. Can I touch you?"

"Good girl," he praised before nodding, "Go for it."

You reached out, this time successfully. Your palm landed flat on his stomach. You held it there for a moment, just feeling his skin. In a way, it was unreal. To feel that someone propped up on the world's pedestal was flesh and blood like you.

Rubbing up and down, you continued getting a feel for his body. He smirked at your wonder before guiding you up by the elbow.

"Stand up and do it right," he said.

"Sorry."

The word came from your mouth automatically. You brought your other hand up to his chest and felt the muscles in his chest. Everything was so built. You expected that, but it was still odd to feel beneath your fingertips. He felt like a living ken doll. You almost didn't believe if he dropped his boxers there would be a real cock there.

Your hands traced up to his shoulders with precision. They explored down his biceps and forearms. And then finally, you brought your lips into his chest. He sighed and tilted his head back, relishing the feeling.

You kissed all over, swirling your tongue and tracing shapes onto his skin. It was almost entrancing, to be so focused on someone like this. You barely noticed as he turned the two of you and sat himself down on the couch, lowering you to your knees.

You worked your mouth down his abs, licking and kissing the twitching muscles. Your fingernails scraped up his sides and then down onto his thighs. When your lips reached the waistband of his boxers, your eyes glanced up at him.

"Can I take them off, sir?" you asked.

He smirked at the title. Only one word of correction and he'd trained that phrase into you.

"Yes," he answered. It was a simple answer. All that was required for someone so naturally obedient.

You took it in stride, tucking your fingers over the elastic and tearing them down. His hard cock popped up and slapped against his pelvis. You couldn't have been happier about your earlier ken doll theory being proven wrong. The sight of his dick was enough to make you drool. It was better than any work of art out there.

It rested against his body at the perfect length, the perfect girth. The tip flushed beautiful red and pearly white beads of precum smeared at the top. Your fingers wrapped around it and gave it a few strokes, testing the waters.

His hand came down and petted your head. He watched as you studied the appendage, as you experimented with your own touch. It was so fucking cute he thought he might cum right then and there. Fuck, he thought you were sweet every moment he had eyes on you, but right now, you were darling. You were doing as he said. Accepting your place at the feet of a superior being.

"Put it in your mouth," he said from above, "I want you to taste it."

There was no hesitation on your end this time around.

"Yes sir," you responded before leaning forward and wrapping your lips around his cock.

He groaned and let his chest hollow out with a harsh exhale. Your mouth was so warm and wet, nice and snug around his length. He rocked his hips up, pushing it further into your throat. He expected a small gag or sputter, but instead you moaned. You shut your eyes and flattened your tongue against his shaft before beginning to bob your head.

"Fuck," he hissed. His legs tensed up, and he pressed down on your head. That did get a tiny gag out of you. You gripped his hips to stabilize yourself though and stayed in place. Your nose nestled against the darker curls of hair that sat at the base of his cock.

Spit leaked from your mouth and dribbled onto his skin below. He took a few moments to just enjoy the feeling of his dick down your throat. The sight of his sweet, innocent girl choking on his cock. Then he let you pull off and catch your breath. 

You took a few deep puffs, letting the spots clear from your vision before you dove back in for more. Your hand stroked the lower part of him your mouth didn't cover in its shallow sucks while your other set of fingers caressed his balls tenderly.

He'd never experienced devotion. As much as it pained him to ever acknowledge, his sexual experiences had been lackluster up until now. There were the times with Maeve, but they always left something to be desired for him. Then there was the time with Stillwell that ended before it really started. In either case, no one had ever put all of themselves into pleasuring him like you were doing right now. It drove him wild. He could feel his sac tightening up, and he knew he had to get you off.

Planting one hand on each side of your head, he tugged you back. You looked up at him with glossy, cock-drunk eyes and saliva-coated lips. He swiped some of the mess away before addressing you.

"You're doing so good for me, but I think you're ready for more, don't you?"

"Yes, sir," you agreed.

"My perfect pet," he crooned and pulled you up onto the couch.

He laid you flat on your back and ripped your skirt and panties off in one go. His eyes drank in the sight of your nude lower half, but he didn't spend much time savoring it. He spread you out, slotting himself against your center.

With a few rocks of his hips, he dragged his length through your wetness. He let the sticky fluid coat his shaft, and then he sunk in. His tip bullied its way into your entrance and the rest of him followed. You whined at the stretch. Your walls clamped around him, eager to accept the intrusion.

"Atta girl," he grunted as he worked himself all the way in.

His hips connected with your ass, but he still bucked them, trying to get more. You yelped at the force. He was already buried inside you. Anymore and his tip would be nudging the entrance to your womb.

Fortunately for you, he pulled his hips back, giving you a short break from feeling so full. It was short lived though. Seconds later he snapped back in. That began the quick rhythm he set into. It was desperate and needy, emotions he'd tried to hide until this point.

You whimpered as your body bobbed with the momentum. His thrusts bounced you back and forth. The sounds of his body smacking against yours filled the room. His fingers dug into your waist hard enough to bruise. You didn't complain about the minor pain though because you could tell he was holding back in every other regard. If a few marks on your side kept you from being pulverized by a super cock, then that was a burden you were willing to carry.

Above you, he starts to pant. His breaths leave him raggedly huffing, sucking down what oxygen he can get in the midst of rutting into you. He tilts his head down at you and gazes at your blissed out face with lidded eyes.

"I could have anyone. Any person on this Earth would be mine if I wanted them to be. But the only one I want is you. Doesn't that feel good?" he breathed.

"Yes!" you cried out. Your back arched up off the couch. "Feels so fucking good, sir."

He leaned into you more, squishing your body into the surface below. Your thighs pressed against your tummy as he bent you.

"Yeah, it does," he grunted, "It's all there is. It's all you need to think about. How you're all mine."

"Mhm," you whined with a lazy nod. You were getting closer to cumming and responding to his words was taking a lower priority in your mind.

"And to think you tried to deny yourself of it," he mocked. He clenched his jaw and slammed into you harder.

You shrieked and clutched his shoulders. In the back of your mind, you hoped his penthouse was sound proofed or at least enough distance from the nearest one. Otherwise you wouldn't have to tell anyone about this incident for it to spread throughout the tower.

"I knew better, didn't I? I knew this is what you needed," he said.

Again, you nodded. You felt the heat in your belly reaching the boiling point.

"Say it," he huffed.

You tried to force it out, but your own hiccuped sob of pleasure cut you off. He didn't give you a break though. He stared down at you with expectation, so you continued.

"You know best- uh, fuck- you know best, sir," you whined.

"Good fucking girl," he growled on top of you.

He was already close from the blowjob you'd given him. Only a few strokes more, and he was ready to explode. He swiveled his hips, angling them upwards to pound into that special spot that would make you see stars and stripes.

You mewled when you came. Your body trembled harder than it did when you were scared. Arousal gushed out of you and coated his skin. He huffed and buried his face in your neck before letting go.

Everything faded into the background as you laid underneath him in the haze that came after the absolute high of pleasure. Now you could feel his heartbeat too. The organ thundered against his chest over and over as he came down.

Minutes later he pulled back. His knuckles caressed down your jawline before he climbed off of you entirely. He sat back on the couch and let out a deep breath. You weren't sure whether you were supposed to pick up your stuff and leave or follow along with him and stay close to his side. There was no real indication of what he wanted in this moment, but he turned to smile at you and huffed out a laugh.

"I think I'll keep you with me more often now. Really show you the ropes of fitting in around here."

You sat up and nodded awkwardly. He leaned toward you, cupping your cheek.

"I'll be a much better teacher than Ashley ever was," he said. His arm snaked around you and pulled you to his chest again. "No more errands or coffee runs. I'll show you things you need. Things that you'll enjoy."

He ran his fingers over your face and kissed your temple. The touches were tender against your skin. They would have been romantic if your mind wasn't racing with what this all meant in terms of your job and the grand scheme of your future.

Looking at him though, he wasn't worried at all. He smiled down at you before whispering once more.

"My sweet little pet. All mine now."

[churipu]

OUTFIT CHECK 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, nanami kento, iatdori yuuji x reader

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. jjk men being in love with you.

note. i'm back! i managed to fit in writing this in the middle of my midterms, i just finished my qualitative research paper for the midterms and i have 3 more take home exams to do. i hope you like this piece <33

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

you stood in front of the mirror, shifting your body from side to side, eying your reflection from different angles. raising a brow, you heaved out a soft sigh — before eventually twirling to face gojo who had been sitting on the edge of the bed. his icy blue eyes had been gazing at you for as long as you've been standing in front of the mirror against your reflection.

"'toru, do you think i look—"

gojo hushes you, putting a finger onto your lips, shutting you up immediately, "no, you don't look bad, and no your outfit doesn't look weird. you look beautiful," he rattles with a small smile.

"but i just feel like something's wrong with my combination," you said, stepping back to disperse from his finger, "like something's out of place. i just don't know what . . ."

gojo slipped an arm across your shoulder, turning your body to face your reflection, "i don't see anything wrong with your outfit or you, baby — you're really pretty . . . and i look pretty amazing too," he winked cheekily at the mirror, kissing the side of your face.

the male had been sitting on the edge of the bed, paying attention to you analyzing your own outfit for the past fifteen minutes. twirling here and there, stepping backwards and forwards cluelessly. the male didn't see anything wrong with your outfit or you, in fact, you looked absolutely stunning in his point of view.

his comment made you break a small smile.

"is this top too revealing?" you turn your back to the mirror, revealing a slight peek at your fragrant s/c skin.

"baby, baby," he scoffs, "i'm the strongest, i can fight, you know? and you look beautiful in that top, you should wear it often, yeah?" his slender fingers grazes over your exposed skin gently, sending shivers down your spine.

a string of laughter escaped your throat, "i love you, you know that?"

the male leaned in and pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, "i love you more. no complaints."

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

"do you think the top suits the bottom?" you asked nanami after changing into your third pants of the day — brows furrowed in frustration as nothing seemed to be clicking.

nanami raised his eyes from the book he had in his grasp, "you look beautiful," he complimented yet again for the third time.

"kento, how am i supposed to pick an outfit when you keep complimenting them all? help me pick one, will you?" nanami didn't understand why you were insistent on the 'mismatched' outfit (at least you think it is).

but in his eyes, everything seemed well-matched. he'd say it's a 11/10 for your ability to match these outfits of yours, "how? you look beautiful in them all."

groaning out, you raise two bags. a black and sage green bag, "pick one."

nanami inspected the two bags and then looked back at your outfit briefly, "the sage green one would fit perfectly with your outfit now," he pointed.

"okay. how about a jacket, do you think i'll need one?" you questioned, rummaging through the closet, "you always have a hunch of what i'd feel, it's your judgement."

he pondered your words for a bit, "take a jacket. forecast said it's going to be cold tonight, i don't want you getting sick."

you chuckled and bobbed your head, "right. anything else i should bring?"

"pepper spray."

"check."

"be careful, yes? call me if anything happens," nanami whispers, standing up from the bed — initially he wanted to come along with you to meet your friends. but he thought that he'd be a bother to you so he stopped himself from asking, "i love you so much."

"i love you more," you kissed his lips, to which he returned.

"let's drop you there, hm?" nanami grabs your hips, giving your flesh a slight squeeze, leading you out of the house.

𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈

"y/n, do you — oh, wow."

yuuji stood, a hand on the handle of the door he just opened and another on the doorway. his jaw dropped at the sight of you, his partner.

you stood in front of a mirror, blinking cluelessly at his reaction. not knowing whether it was his surprise because of how good you looked or the other way around, "yuuji? do i what?"

yuuji blinked himself back into reality, entering the room mutely, his back leaned onto the shut door, "where are you off to?"

shaking your head you gazed back at your reflection, "i'm just mix and matching for a hang out with nobara tomorrow, does this look funny?"

he shook his head harshly, "no, no, you look really nice! really pretty," yuuji honestly said before inhaling, you quite literally took his breath away.

"really? the color suits?" you asked, pinching the shirt you're wearing, "is the pants a bit too short?"

yuuji stood still, "no . . . you — wow, you just look so pretty y/n. i don't know what else to tell you . . ." he whispers, entranced by your figure as he detached his back from the door to approach you.

mustering out a smile, you gave him a hug, "thanks yuuji, you're the best."

he nuzzled his nose into your hair, "you're so beautiful," yuuji mumbled before kissing the crown of your head.

all of a sudden, yuuji pulls back, his face stern and a frown on his face, "how come you're going out with kugisaki and i'm not invited?" he asks you, narrowing his eyes.

"baby, i promise it's just me and her. i'll get you something special on the way back and then we can watch movies? your pick." you pinched his cheeks gently.

"any movies?"

you nod, "any movies."

"okay! deal." yuuji beams out, kissing your cheek.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[crescenthistory]

hi angel!!!! absolutely adore your blog and especially the way you write for regulus 🥹🥹 makes my heart so happy, like that’s baby boy!!!! thank you so much for sharing with us!!! i have a prompt request but only if you feel so inclined!!! number d8 “where is she?" with regulus, pretty please, like maybe something happens to reader and he is the last to find out (busy w quidditch or prefer things) so when someone finally tracks him down being like your girl needs you, his composure is for once non existent and he is panicking!!!! ughhh hurt/comfort with reg is everything!!! anyway only if you feel my up to my love no pressure ever - love your blog regardless 💗💗💗

hi my love<33 this is hands down the sweetest request i have received, thank you so much for being so kind 🤍🤍 i genuinely appreciate your words so much! as for the request, i adore some hurt/comfort with reg, and this is an idea i've had for a while, so it was so fun to write

Prompt: D.8 "Where is she?"

Words: 6k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, severe injury (happens off screen, explained and treated on screen), lacerations, typical regulus anxiety (overworked), best friends to lovers, pomfrey being a badass, snape is a villain, animal abuse (technically), background marlene, rosekiller, etc.

It was common knowledge that Slytherin quidditch practice was never to be disturbed, especially this close to the final match of the season against Gryffindor.

This was Regulus’ first year as captain and he was determined for it to be written in the history books as a victorious one, to make himself deserving of the title. Playing opposite his brother and his best friends didn’t lessen the pressure much, either. 

He knew he had been pushing the team quite hard, but he also knew that if anyone could handle it, it was them. Evan and Barty funnelled all their chaotic energy into quidditch once they realised just how much it mattered for their mate, and Dorcas had just as much to gain from winning against Marlene as Regulus had against Sirius. Fenwick had had his skull bashed in by enough bludgers in his career to not be able to formulate any complaints, even if he had them. The rest of the team were relatively young players, a risk most others had chastised Regulus for taking, but one that was playing off beautifully – and with those rumours, they wanted to prove themselves, too. 

There really was little problem with this arrangement, he told himself, other than the fact that he was perhaps wearing himself a bit thin when balancing it all with his prefect duties and exams.

And, more importantly, missing you.

You had been the best friend he could have asked for during this hectic year of his, always standing by his side, just as much of a loyal team-player as those on his actual sports team. That unwavering dedication you had shown him over the years that taught him that maybe, just maybe, he was capable of being loved – and most definitely of loving, because Regulus would be damned if he didn’t admit that that was the only appropriate word for how he felt about you.

Not that he had told you that yet, though, and neither had you. It was never the right time, and you both knew, at least to some degree. For now, it was enough. You had each other, always, and it was enough. He told himself as much, at least.

Regulus was trying to zero his thoughts back on his team running through their plays off-broom on the ground, looking for any weakness in their formation, when the cardinal rule of not disturbing practice was broken.

“Black!” A voice shouted as it ran across the pitch from the school. 

Regulus squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will the pestering fourth year away, one of those who just seemed to always be there, nameless and bothersome. It was to little avail, though, judging by the sounds of his heavy steps hitting the still somewhat moist dirt on the field.

“Black, I have to–”

“We are in the middle of a practice!” Regulus cut the kid off, letting his nerves get the better of him as he saw most of his players stop in the midst of what had been their best run-through so far. “Unless someone has died, it can wait.”

“But–”

“Has someone died?” Regulus had his hands on his hips, half aware that he looked way too much like his older brother as he regarded the student-shaped owl in front of him with derision. 

“No, but–”

“Are someone in the midst of dying? Like within the hour?”

“N– no.”

“Then you may leave.” The student looked thoroughly confused, clearly not having been properly warned by whoever sent him as a make-shift owl that this was the only response he would be getting from Regulus. He could vaguely hear you whispering poor boy in his mind, always advocating for Regulus’ softer side, but right now he pushed it away as he turned back to his teammates. “Whatever it is will still be there when we are finished up here.”

Regulus didn’t wait for him to go before he began to pretend he was air, attention fully on his team once more.

Barty snickered as he tried to lean his chin on Evan’s shoulder, only to have the taller boy fully shove him off. Regulus shook his head, ignoring the crestfallen student beside him as he tried to increase his energy levels back to where they needed to be.

“Okay, that last round was getting closer to where we want to be. Ready to take to the sky for the last few minutes?”

When he finally stepped foot inside the quidditch locker rooms, Regulus sped through his shower routine. He was eager to get out of there and back to the dorms quick enough to have sufficient time to spend with you before going to sleep. He had half a mind to ask you to sleep in his bed tonight, but he wondered if that might be pushing it since you just did that a few nights ago. Nothing ever happened, of course, you were just the best of friends – and even if you had been something more, it was hard for anything to happen with Evan and Barty in the same room.

You just brought him a sense of peace he found himself craving more day by day. He wished to squeeze out every ounce of it he possibly could.

His hair was still wet, bag thrown about as haphazardly over his shoulder as he could allow himself to without spiralling – which is to say, he still looked perfectly polished to anyone but him. He turned to give the team lingering behind an attempt at an emphatic great work today that ended up falling a bit short from his hoarse voice. Thankfully, everyone else seemed tired enough to accept it without reservation, and Regulus could exit the changing room before all but running towards the Slytherin dorms. 

On his way there, he passed through the Great Hall, attempting to slow his stride to look a bit more composed, but quite ready to throw all of it away for the night just to curl up with you.

“Re- Regulus?!”

Sirius’ incredulous voice sounded behind him, and though Regulus loved his brother dearly, he took a deep sigh at the disturbance, knowing that, with him, it would likely not be a short one.

“That would be me.” Regulus turned around with a sarcastic half-smile, only for it to waver when he saw the expression on Sirius’ face. 

There was an evident tension in his face when he looked Regulus up and down, as if trying to figure him out while a thousand thoughts ran through his mind. Sirius’ lips were pressed tight, as if holding back a severe frown and his eyes were decidedly clouded with worry.

“Reg, what are you doing here?” His voice conveyed more confusion than upset, but both were woven into his tone.

“I’m… on my way to Slytherin? We just finished practice.” 

It was as if Sirius found an answer to his confusion as his face settled into a form of defeat. “You don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?” Regulus stared his brother down, heart speeding up in his chest, but he could feel it in his whole body. “What is it, Siri?”

“James sent someone to tell you,” Sirius says, speaking more to himself.

“Tell me what?” Regulus’ patience was worn thin by his pulse straining his skin.

“Uh, it’s Y/N.” Pangs shot through his body, pulling every vein taut. “She– she will be fine, don’t worry, but–”

“Where is she?”

Regulus struggled to make out where Sirius stood in front of him as the world seemed to tunnel around him and his mind was immediately elsewhere, immediately with his best girl, imagining any possible horror that might have overcome you. Had it not been for Sirius’ delivery of the news and the way he looked at Regulus, he might have felt more calm. But he had always known his big brother to be more composed than this.

“The infirmary–”

He didn’t need to hear more before he was running at full speed down the hallway.

Little to nothing registered with Regulus on the way to the infirmary, that he for the first time in his life realised was located painfully far away from the Great Hall. Illogical, given how many students go through there throughout their days. 

He felt lighter than ever as he was entirely certain he had never run this quickly in his life, simultaneously as every limb felt heavy with worry. 

She will be fine is only reassuring if he was concerned you had died – in every other scenario it is the worst thing to hear, because it confidently means you are not fine right now.

Regulus is half aware that he has run through two ghosts, into one student and past a professor – he thinks maybe Flitwick? – but he paid none of them any mind, willing to take the point deductions or even detentions, if only they don’t slow him down. He can deal with everything and anything else later. 

When he finally reached the door to the infirmary, it took everything in him to come to a halt. 

He all but crashed into the door, catching himself with one hand on the doorframe as he breathed heavy, giving himself but two seconds to collect himself, lest he be banned from the infirmary by life by Madam Pomfrey. That was not something he could afford right now.

Still heaving, he opened the door and took two steps inside – before his vision became entirely swamped by that very same woman, standing with her hands on her hips.

“Is she here?” He tried to get out before she could say anything.

“No visitors at the moment,” Madam Pomfrey said sternly.

“Please, is she here?” Regulus couldn’t even think to say your name, but the look on the matron’s face told him she knew.

“She is, and she is alright, but there will be no visitors at the moment.” Her voice was a bit softer now, but she was not relenting and she was not moving.

Regulus’ breath picked back up, and he didn’t register the tears that were forming in his eyes. A choked please was forming on his tongue when–

“Please.”

You beat him to it. Your meek voice sounded from a few curtains down behind Madam Pomfrey. Regulus didn’t hear the noise that escaped him when he heard the soft pain in your usually chipper voice, but the matron did. Still, it seemed to be on your account and not the lovestruck, fear-sickened boy in front of her, that she took a step to the side.

“Only you, and it must be brief.”

Her words were mostly caught by the air that Regulus left in his wake the moment she moved to the side, because as soon as he could he was by the curtain he had heard you speak from behind, ever so gently pulling it to the side.

“Oh, mon amour.”

The sight he was faced with both mended and broke his heart – because you were there, awake and already looking at him, but your forehead and right arms were bandaged and your face bore telltale signs of pain. He could see tear tracks down your delicate cheeks, mascara smudging just barely beneath your eyes. You looked happy to see him, he could see your chest heave a breath of relief, but that was about the only positive thing he could decipher in you at the moment.

At last, his movements were measured and careful again, but for once not for the sake of how he was perceived, but rather to not disturb the space around you, as if that could lessen your pain. He barely managed to close the curtain behind him with trembling hands, giving you a semblance of privacy, even in this infirmary that he had no idea hosted how many others.

There was enough space on the left side of the bed beside you for Regulus to take his rightful place by your side, as close as he dared. His eyes kept jumping all over your body and face, breath hitched.

Your name escaped his lips in a small breath as his eyes widely roamed your form.

He didn’t realise his hand was hovering between you before you reached up to him with your left hand and took it in yours. Your grip was weak and the tips of your fingers cold, but it was still the smooth skin he was used to feeling on his.

Upon your touch, he seemed to be brought back down to earth and the welling tears spilled down his cheeks.

“Oh, Reggie,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. “It’s okay, I’m alright.”

“My poor love,” he whispered back, letting his free hand move up to lightly caress your cheek, brushing some damp hair away. It must have gotten wet when Pomfrey tended to whatever wound was bandaged on your upper forehead. “What happened to you, amour?”

Regulus often referred to you with terms of endearment, you knew you were each other’s person, but the absolute softness of them now broke your heart a little.

“It was…” you trailed off, wincing as you scrunched your brows in confusion and consequently pulled on your bandage. “It was an accident.” The sound that escaped you was almost a laugh, but it was too wet and strangled to truly be classified as such.

“What happened?” Regulus’ voice urged, more desperate than before. He held your hand tighter, bringing it closer to his chest, as if to protect it.

“We were helping Kettleburn – unwillingly mind you –”

“Who are we?” Regulus cuts you off, still seeming rather feverish in his desperation to know what was wrong. You squeezed his hand and smiled at him to calm him down. 

“An unfortunate bunch of us who happened to be enjoying the fresh air by the benches. Me, Lily, Marlene, Snape, Avery and some others we don’t really know too well, mostly fourth years.”

Regulus scowled at the mention of Snape and Avery, but nodded, as if encouraging you to continue.

“Kettleburn needed some help preparing bait. He believed there was a hippogriff in the Forbidden Forest that he wanted to draw out. It worked a bit too well, a bit too well.”

His brows scrunched at that. “But hippogriffs are mainly peaceful unless you disturb them?” Unease was growing in his stomach.

“Yes, that’s what I said as well,” you feel a bout of dizziness come over you, but try and speak through it. “We were down, probably a bit too close to the forest when it came out. I tried to push the bait towards it carefully, keeping my distance. It just wanted food, you know.”

“But?”

“But Snape and Avery freaked. When it took a step closer, just to eat – they let curses fly, kneejerk self defence reaction they said.”

Regulus had to be mindful to not hurt your hand as his fists clenched on reflex. He settled for holding the sheets beside him disturbingly hard instead – he had already pieced together what happened. “You were still in the line of fire,” he concluded, eyes darkening.

“Yes,” you whispered weakly. “It would have been fine, if it had only been a stupefy or something, but Snape shouted something else, some freak hex. It was like being slashed with a knife all over.”

Regulus’ breath hitched as he let his eyes travel from gauze to gauze. His fingers came up to linger near a particularly large bandage that travelled from your shoulder in under your hospital gown. “All over?” His voice was a mere whisper before he finally looked in your eyes again. He found them teary, and his heart clenched painfully.

“Yeah, I– The biggest one is across my stomach. Pomfrey has patched me up nicely, but it was, uh, it wasn’t good.”

He can’t fight the new tears that spill as he whispers my girl before carefully shuffling closer to you to give you a hug, or at least as close to one you could get right now. His cheek is pressed into yours, his hand on the back of your head, and you can hear him cry directly into your ear, drawing tears from you as well. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered into you. “So sorry, amour.”

“Reggie, there was nothing you could do,” you try to look at him, but his grip on your head remains steadfast.

“No, I should have been there. I’m so sorry.” He presses a kiss to your upper cheek, and his lips are wet. “I should’ve been there.”

“Reg, there was no way anyone could have known.”

He pulls back slightly, looking you over to see if he was hurting you before settling in with his forehead against yours – making sure to avoid the wound in the top left. When his eyes look into yours, you feel a sense of calm finally wash over your body that had been riddled by the shock of being torn open. A grey safe haven.

“I’m sorry, amour.” He keeps saying it like a prayer.

You try to shake your head, but wince at the action. His hand immediately shoots up to your jaw, to still your head. Protecting you, even from yourself. “You’re not allowed to be sorry, Reg, you didn’t do anything. You can only feel sorry for me, which isn’t quite that hard. I look pathetic right now.”

Your half-hearted attempt at humour doesn’t seem to drag him from his despair as his eyes keep searching your face, flitting from the tears to the deviating makeup. His thumb, ever so carefully, drags under your eye to wipe away some of the mascara there. You lean into his touch.

“They tried to tell me, but I– I didn’t know, so I didn’t listen and–”

“You were at quidditch practice,” you cut him off. “Everyone knows you can’t be disturbed then.”

Regulus looked at you incredulously. “This is disturb-worthy, you – anything with you is always the biggest priority. I’m sorry.”

“One girl versus preparing for the match of your life? Hm, I think it’s good you weren’t distracted.” You are determined to lighten his mood, the sinch of his eyebrows and worry in his eyes were beginning to make you feel sick for him.

“But you’re my girl,” he says in a low voice, stressing the words as if to pour additional meaning. “You’re my best friend, my everything. Y/N, you are everything.”

You struggle to come up with a response to that. Any mask Regulus switches between is completely discarded in this small infirmary section with you. When he holds your face and looks at you, you know what it is.

Unable to speak over the lump in your throat, you just drag his face closer to press a sweet kiss to his cheek, as always.

Except this time, while your lips linger on his cheek, Regulus uses his hand still on your jaw to angle your face towards his. With your lips millimetres apart, he looks from them to your eyes, searching for something, and then back down. He whispers another soft everything before pressing his lips to yours.

For all the times you had thought of kissing Regulus, nothing compared. You never expected there to be salty from tears, you never imagined his scent in your nose to be swirled with the disinfectant covering everything around you – but he was right, it was everything. His lips were unbelievably soft against yours, even as he pushed himself even closer to you, as if he needed you underneath his skin, not just on top of it. The pinky underneath your jaw digs into your skin, and you can feel your pulse beat against his finger.

When Regulus pulls away, your mouths are still essentially connected, slightly parted, just breathing into each other. You open your eyes and find him looking at you with nothing short of love.

“I–”

“I love you.” You cut him off, smiling a bit as he half feigns indignance before it turns soft once more.

“I love you, belle fille.”

“I know.”

Finally, finally he gives you a genuine smile. It eases your nerves more than even his eyes could, and you feel yourself melting back into your pillow. Unfortunately, comfort makes you even more aware of the pain and soreness in your body, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“I���m sorry,” he whispers again, mostly to himself it seems.

“I won’t allow that.” You tug your intertwined hands closer to you, wanting to share the comfort with him. “I’m alright, Reggie.”

“You’re wounded and bandaged.”

“And I’m perfectly okay.”

He gives you an as if look, but it’s good enough for you, for now. Then his face twisted into something darker and you saw the same desperation from earlier bubbling to the surface.

“What happened to Snape? And Avery?” His hold on you is still soft and caring, but the rest of his body has grown stiff, mind racing with imagined visions of what went down and of what he would do with them in return.

“Nothing yet,” you said with a careful, measured voice. “Kettleburn wanted to ease the situation first, but since it was technically his fault for bringing us along unprompted, I’m not sure what would be done. Detention maybe?”

“Yeah, Kettleburn’s an idiot for that, but Snape was the one who used an unorthodox and probably dark hex. He has to be dealt with.”

Though you don’t condone how fast some of your friends resorted to revenge and violence, even you had to admit that the idea of Snape knowing magic like that didn’t sit right with you either. There was no situation you could imagine where a slasher spell like that would be moral in combat. 

“I’m sure they will deal with him tomorrow,” you settle on. “Tonight the main priority seemed to be making sure I don’t bleed out on the grounds.”

Regulus’ look was pained as he pressed his lips together. “How did you get in after that anyway?”

“I don’t remember too well.” You truly didn’t, and the flashes that went through your mind were not ones Regulus would be better off knowing about. “Kettleburn shushed the Hippogriff back into the forest – it thankfully didn’t get severely injured it seemed – while everyone else panicked. Lily and Marlene were the first ones by my side.”

You both smile absentmindedly at that. When you first befriended Lily through your study sessions at the library, Regulus had been unsure of how to approach your joint integration into his brother’s friend group, but the girls had turned out to be some of the best friends you could have asked for. 

“Oh!” you exclaim, almost straddling Regulus. “Almost forgot, but you’ll be happy to know that Marlene suckerpunched Snape before they brought me inside with a levitation spell. Pretty gnarly punch, too.”

Regulus’ smiled seemed to be less from gratification and more from endearment from you. “I think I’d like to see Snape get a little more than a punch for what he did to you. But that’s a great start, darling.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at him. “It’s a start. And again, we can deal with all of that tomorrow. I don’t have the energy today.”

“No, no, you are the only priority right now, amour.” Any mirth slipped from his face as he studied you concernedly once more.

“I know you’re “alright”, but you’re not alright” he started. “Could you tell me where it hurt the most?” He looks over you again, as if he can map you out and fight your pain off, spot by spot.

“My stomach and chest got it worst,” you admit. “It’s growing more sore, but Madam said I could get more pain relief in just a little while.”

“Well, she also said I could only stay here for a short while,” he whispers conspiratorially, looking towards the curtain as if he expected it to be ripped back any minute. “Pretty sure we’re way past that.”

“Maybe she heard us crying like babies over a non-fatal injury and figured it was less of a hassle to leave us to it.” You squeeze Regulus’ thigh with a grin and he bites back a yelp.

“She would be wise to do so. Especially because there’s no bloody way I’m leaving.”

You don’t say much to that because you really, really don’t want him to either. You know you are fine, and for his sake you try and seem even more assured of it, but the white panic that soared through your veins those first few minutes is hard to shake. Even though you don’t want him to hold his absence against himself, you don’t like the thought of him leaving now that he was there.

“Has she said anything about a treatment plan? How long you’ll be here? She said you’re fine, so it shouldn’t be too long right?” Though Regulus looks at you as he asks his questions, you know he is already trying to piece together probable answers in his head.

“Most of our first conversation was her narrating what she was doing while I was moaning and not listening.” Your comment was off-handed, but Regulus seemed to wince at the image it painted in his head. “Sorry,” you mumbled bashfully, but he just gave you a smile.”

“Good thing I have the memory of an elephant, then.” Madam Pomfrey’s voice sounded just seconds before she ripped the curtain back and stepped into your little bubble. 

Regulus went straight into autopilot, rightening his posture and schooling his expression. You squeezed his hand tighter, so that he couldn’t pull away, but that had not even been any option in his mind. Pomfrey went through the station beside you at the speed of light, way too familiar and comfortable with these procedures.

“Miss L/N had 5 deep lacerations and several shallow ones,” she begins to recite and Regulus hangs onto every word. “The shallow wounds are almost entirely gone from the treatment already, but the more severe ones will need time to recover. She will have to stay in the infirmary overnight today and tomorrow for observation and continue to receive some medication. Among those are pain potions and salves for the wounds. Rebandage every 10 hours and apply new salves.”

“How will that affect her?” Regulus asked, probably pushing his luck with the matron.

“The pain potions will make her a bit slow and groggy, but she will still be awake. Though she should sleep.” At that she gives you a curt look over her shoulder. “The healing process for the wounds will likely be itchy and uncomfortable and she may develop a fever. We will pay particularly close attention to the stomach wounds in case she develops any infections there.”

“What are the symptoms of infections like that?”

You try and pat Regulus’ leg to say down, boy, but he doesn’t give you the time of day, instead focusing fully on any and all information the matron is willing to share with him. You had half a mind to joke that this was private medical information, but let it be.

Madam Pomfrey turns to Regulus at his fourth question, putting her hands on her hips as she measured him closely. It seemed like she decided on something and the next second she exited through the curtains again. You and Regulus barely had time to exchange a glance before she came back and threw a white coat at Regulus who catched it bewilderedly.

“Seems like I’ve got myself an assistant for the remainder of her stay, haven’t I, Mr. Black?”

A slow smile spreads across Regulus’ face before he hurries on the coat. “Yes, Madam.”

Pomfrey talks you – and now, Regulus – through the new pain potion she is about to give you, giving brief background on the ingredients, application and effect when the door to the infirmary slams open, decidedly louder than when Regulus entered earlier. Her eyes squeeze shut, as if pained by the disrespect and incredulity of students, but finished giving you the potion.

“That is no way to enter an infirmary, Mr. Crouch,” she says through half-gritted teeth as she works. She waves at Regulus to open the curtain to your bed, revealing Barty, Evan and Dorcas, all heaving as if they have been running too. “You seem to be particularly loved, Miss L/N. Please never get injured again, it disturbs my workspace.”

Your friends’ eyes are wide as they take in your form where you lay, still rather pathetically, in your bed. 

“Merlin’s tits, what happened?” Dorcas asks.

At the same time Barty’s gaze flits between you and Regulus. “Who?” he asks, while looking at you.

“I–” you start, but that was clearly the wrong answer because he then immediately turns to Regulus instead.

“Who?”

There is no hesitation in Regulus’ voice. “Snape.”

Barty’s face morphs from shock and concern into pure determination. He stalks over to you in three wide steps, pressing a quick kiss to the safe side of your forehead, whispering a quiet take care, Treasure, before turning around and dragging Evan out of the infirmary. The other boy’s jaw was ticked shut and went more than willingly.

Even you felt a bit bad for Snape in that moment.

Madam Pomfrey, however, only breathed a sigh of relief that they left so quickly.

Dorcas comes up between you and Regulus, sitting on the very edge of your bed. Pomfrey, with Regulus’ assistance return to the work on your bedside station, though his eyes are on you almost the whole time. He has that furrow between his brows that shows up whenever he focuses intently, and you are torn between wanting to kiss it and draw it.

“We met Marls and Lily in the hallway,” Dorcas explains. “They got halfway through their story before Junior took off with us on leash behind us.”

“Sounds like him,” you laugh, trying to hide how the rumble hurts you. “But really, I’m totally fine. Or, I’m relatively good, and will soon be alright.”

“Yeah, especially when you’ve got two nurses to tend to you,” Dorcas teases, casting Regulus a knowing sideways glance.

“Pardon you, Miss Meadows; I am a Healer.” 

You can’t help the snort that escapes you. Despite never wanting to return to this infirmary, you had grown quite fond of the Madam.

“My deepest apologies, Madam,” Dorcas offered with a gleam in her eyes. You could have sworn you saw Pomfrey smile ever so slightly.

“But yeah, Dorc, I’m well taken care of. I’ll be fine.”

“Firstly, just because you’re wounded does not mean you can get away with calling me that.” You laugh once more, happy to not be treated like a dying animal even in such a grave hour. “Secondly, I’m glad. You deserve it, and it was about damn time.”

You pretend to not understand what the last part referred to, but you knew she got you all figured out. You squeeze her leg in a sign of admiration and, perhaps, defeat.

“Thirdly,” Regulus interjects. “You need to either not make her laugh or leave.”

Pomfrey nodded emphatically. 

“Not my fault your girl just finds me absolutely hilarious, Black.” Dorcas winks at you.

“Speaking of someone’s girl,” you drawl, trying to even the playing field, which worked, if Dorcas’ light blush was anything to go off of. “Please tell Marlene I say thank you. I don’t think I got to in the whirl of everything and then everyone was thrown out.”

Dorcas’ smile softens. “I will, babe, but you don’t have to thank her. She’s still a bit worried though, so I’ll tell everyone you’re doing fine.”

“Thanks,” you whisper through a smile, accepting Dorcas’ half-hug before she slips out of the infirmary, which finally returns to its prior quietude.

“That’s enough visitors for today!” Pomfrey explains, clapping her hands together as she is done. “Only staff and patients for the rest of the night.” She shoots Regulus and his white coat a knowing glance.

“Does that mean I can sleep?” You don’t mean for your voice to sound so meek, but the pain potion is starting to work, and the more your body relaxes, the more exhausted you realise you are.

Regulus makes a soft cooing sign, coming back to sit on the side of your bed, taking your hand in his and drawing comforting circles on its back. “Yes, amour. We have prepared the station for when we have to wake you in a few hours for reapplication.”

You groan a bit at the thought of being woken, and both your matron and her assistant laugh a bit at you. 

“Better that than affection, Miss L/N.”

“Yes, of course,” you relent, letting out a heavy sigh. “Thank you. For all of it.”

Pomfrey merely nods before gathering her things and exiting into the rest of the infirmary, pulling your curtain shut behind you. You expect that is the closest she usually gets to a you’re welcome and you accept it heartily.

Regulus shifts into a more comfortable position beside you, back against your headboard, ensuring you are as comfortable and pain-free as possible. He brings your intertwined fingers up to his lips to press delicate butterfly kisses to them. The softness of it all makes you almost want to cry again, but you bite it back, purely because you can’t stand seeing Regulus cry again tonight, and you knew he would.

“Congratulations on your promotion.” Your tire does not hide the coyness of your tone and he smiles fondly at you.

“Thank you. Think she figured it was easier that way – and I have always been a top student.”

“Yeah, yeah, you and your OWLs.” You turn your head more towards him, smiling. “Such a nerd.”

“I reckon you like that about me.”

“I reckon the same.”

You lean forward and he meets you halfway for a slow kiss. The casualness of it makes it feel all the more important, especially when the past few hours of your life has been anything but.

He leans his head onto yours, drawing you as close as he can with your current circumstances.

“I’m sorry,” Regulus whispers again and you shake your head beneath his. Before you can tell him no, he continues. “Not just for what happened to you or not being there. Just, I don’t know. Being slow.”

“Didn’t we just agree you were bright?” you tease, but when you turn to see the sincerity in his eyes, you soften. “It’s okay, Regulus. We were both slow.”

Neither of you feel compelled to delve into the details of it, and it makes you feel more at ease. Even with everything, this was just how it was supposed to be.

“I’m glad I have you.” It is the best way to summarise it; it was enough. He smiles warmly at you.

“And I you.” 

You ignore the strain of some of your bandages as you lean closer to kiss him again, where he meets you enthusiastically – it was worth it.

“Go to sleep now, amour. I’ll be here to ease you awake when the time comes. I’ll always be here.”

And he was.

[grison-in-space]

from the number of asinine complaints about how "voting is NOT a form of harm reduction" because harm reduction is for ADDICTS! ONLY! I'm seeing around... all coming from OP blogs I don't recognize and which otherwise don't have much presence... well, that coordination alongside the timing of US politics sure feels like the Russian troll bots agitating again. (Yes, they absolutely infested Tumblr; I think @ms-demeanor had a great post about what the bots looked and felt like somewhere that I will have to try and track down tomorrow.)

The thing is, if you actually do know harm reduction well, the complaint makes no sense. It's not as if the origin of harm reduction is a secret or especially hard to find out more about. I am not exactly an expert in the field: I have a educated layperson's interest in public health and infectious disease, I'm a queer feminist of a certain age and therefore have a certain degree of familiarity with AIDS-driven safer sex campaigns, and I'm interested in disability history and self advocacy (and I would in fact clarify harm reduction as a philosophy under this umbrella). So I have about twenty years of experience with harm reduction as a philosophy basically by existing in communities whose history is intertwined with harm reduction, which means I know it well from many different angles, and I know how the story of the philosophy is generally taught.

See, this is a story that starts, as so many stories do, in the 1980s with something monstrous President Reagan was doing. In this case, it was the AIDS epidemic, and Reagan refusing to devote any money or time to what eventually became called AIDS (rather than the original GRIDS, which came with its own baked in homophobia). Knowing themselves abandoned by society in this as in all things, and watching as friends and loved ones died in droves, queers and addicts are two communities who see that they are the only resources that they collectively have to save each other's lives. Queers know that sex, even casual sex, is an important part of people's lives and culture... and people aren't going to stop doing it even if there's a disease, so how can it happen safely? Condoms. Condoms every time, freely available, easy and shameless, shower them on people in the street if you have to. (And other things: this is the origin of the concept of "fluid bonding", for example... both of which were concepts that were immediately adopted in response to COVID, like outdoor socially distsnced greetings and masks and "bubbles." That wasn't an accident. Normalizing sexual health tests and seeing hard results on paper before sex was a thing, too.)

Addicts, too, knew that using was going to happen no matter how earnestly people tried to stop. If it was that easy, addiction wouldn't exist. So: how do you make using safer for longer? If you could stop someone getting HIV before they could bring themselves to get clean, that's a whole life right there. If you could stop someone overdosing once, twice, a dozen times, that's more time you're buying them to claw themselves out of addiction and into a better place. Addicts see, right, needle sharing is getting the diseases spread, so cut down on needle sharing. Well, needles aren't easy to get hold of. Their supply is controlled because people who aren't prescribed needles are theoretically junkies, so taking the needles away makes it harder to use, right— and no one is complicit, and also you see fewer discarded needles lying around where they're unsanitary and unsafe, right? Except that people want to do a buddy a good turn, so they share if there's no other option, and they'll keep a needle going until it's literally too blunt to keep using if need be. So fighting needle sharing means making it easier to get needles to shoot up with: finding a place to discard used ones and get as many fresh ones as you need to use safely!

Making free needles available to junkies and free condoms for the bathhouses was not a popular solution with politicians, for perhaps obvious reasons. Nor was routine testing of the blood supply, because that cost money too. But these things work to stop the spread of disease. Thus the principle of harm reduction: policy interventions in response to communities that frequently engage in risky behavior should focus on whatever reduces aggregate harm by reducing the risk rather than by trying to reduce the behavior. The homos and junkies say look, all your societal judgement in the world hasn't stopped us being homos and junkies yet. You ain't going to look after us? We'll look after our own. And this is the form that takes. Not increasing the pressure to act like people who aren't is, but making it safer to be the people we are while we try to be the happiest versions of ourselves. Even if that means being morally complicit in a whole lot of casual sex and drug abuse.

The thing is, harm reduction is a philosophy rooted in the defiance of people who knew that their society thought they deserved to die painfully, young, invisible and alone. This is not the kind of thing that people come up with and get mad if you adapt it and share it, especially if you tell the story of where it came from. And importantly, harm reduction is not purely the child of addiction: that philosophy, from the get go, was cooked up to apply both to substance abuse and casual sex. It didn't just spread from addiction care; it was born straddling addiction care and queer & feminist health care.

So it doesn't make sense to see actual activists who know harm reduction well complaining that this is a term exhibiting semantic drift when we talk about voting as harm reduction. It's actually a good metaphor: you're reducing the overall risk of the worst case scenario metaphors by voting Democrat, at least until future votes can install a system where multiple parties can flourish on the political scheme. (Democrats and Republicans are essentially coalitions of a pack of arguing factions anyway, and those factions are essentially what would be classed elsewhere as a party in its own right; the US essentially just lumps political granularity rather than splitting it in our political system.) And anyone who understands harm reduction itself knows that.

So it's this wildly inorganic complaint being voiced repeatedly by different sources. Sounds like a pretty good flag for a potential psyop to me.

If you want to learn more about harm reduction and its history, especially from an addiction perspective, I cannot recommend Maia Szalavitz's Undoing Drugs: How Harm Reduction is Changing the Future of Drugs and Addiction (2022) highly enough. Szalavitz has a history of addiction of her own as well as being a clear and accessible writer with an excellent grasp of neuroscience and history. I have a lot of respect for her work.