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theereina · 28 days ago

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New Year, Same Bullshit

Pairing: Toxic Babydaddy!Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +3.8K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, use of pet names (Daddy, Mama, baby girl, lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, etc.), oral (male receiving), P in V, Toxic Dom!Terry *if you squint and turn your head*, cum play *sort of*, brattiness galore, facials *no spa*🤭

A/N¹: This is a single one-shot with no planned sequels.

A/N²: I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by ME (theereina). Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥

ding

Terry: I hope all is well. My mom told me she has TJ. Hope you enjoy yourself tonight.

Me: I hope I do, too.

Terry: I was thinking about something earlier.

Me: ???

Terry: New Year, new us?

I paused for a second in disbelief. I knew this man was not trying this bullshit tonight. I guess this year's motto was “new year, same bullshit”. I sat there for a second and stared at myself in my vanity's mirror.

I could feel the petty in me rising. I texted Terry back with nothing but ill intentions. “New year, new us”, huh?

Me: Nah. New year, and new dick. Cheers to 2025!🥂✨

I waited until I knew Terry saw the message and blocked his number. I knew I was pushing Terry's buttons but oh well.

2 hours later

“Lele, ain't that Terry?” asked one of the women who came out with me and my best friend.

“Aww, hell. Lele, it is him. He's coming this way, and he looks pissed!” my best friend, Tyler, said.

“I don't care. What he gonna do? Whoop me!” I laughed out loud, spinning to see Terry barreling through the crowd.

I stopped dancing when I saw his face. Maybe, I shouldn't have said that.

“Terry, wait? I didn't mean—,” I said as soon as he stood before me.

“Nah… You meant that shit. New dick, huh?” Terry said, eyeing me down.

As much as I was scared for my life, I was hoping that this night would end the way I wanted it to. Fuck! I needed this.

“You think that shit was funny? Ty, y'all here alone, or did she come with someone?” he asked, looking towards Tyler.

“Terry, I didn't come h—,” I started to speak.

Terry's eyes darted back to meet mine.

“Love, I wasn't talking to you. I asked Tyler. When I want you to speak, I'll let you know.”

“Oh, shit. He not playing with her ass,” said one of the women in the group.

“Yes, we came alone. No, she didn't come here with anyone. I promise,” Tyler said, looking at me.

“I can't believe you're doing this shit right now,” I mumbled under my breath.

“What did you say? I couldn't hear you,” Terry spat, glaring down at me.

“Nothing,” I whispered.

“Yeah, that's what the fuck I thought. Enjoy yourself, sweetheart. I'll be waiting for you when you get home,” he said, holding the back of my head and kissing my forehead.

“Huh? You don't live with me,” I uttered in confusion.

“I still have my key, and I pay the bills there. Don't I? Oh, okay then. Like I said, I'll see you when you get home,” he said, letting me go.

“Oh, and do me a favor, love. Don't drink too much. I need you alert and responsive tonight,” Terry said, walking away.

As I watched Terry leave, I felt my heart racing. There was no calming down from this.

“Fuck me!” I yelled quietly as soon as Terry was out of sight.

“Girl, what the fuck did you do this time?” Tyler asked me, handing me a drink.

I looked at the fruity concoction like it was poison. I knew this sugary ass shit wasn't going to do anything to call my nerves. I shrugged my shoulders and swallowed the drink in two full gulps.

“Damn! That man finna tear yo' ass up. Ain't he?” one of the women asked while laughing.

“You don't even know the half. Tyler, can you keep yo’ godson tomorrow? I got a funny feeling I'm not gonna be straight after tonight,” I asked Tyler, searching her eyes for sympathy.

“Yeah, I got my baby. Now, you just tell me what the fuck you did,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, Ty. I think I fucked up this time,” I said, shaking my head. I pulled her over to one of the couches in the section, hoping that I could talk to her privately.

As I proceeded to tell Tyler what happened, I could see her face shift from concern to amusement.

“Why do you look like you wanna laugh?” I asked when I finished.

“Uh, sis… How did he know where you were?” Tyler asked, looking at me with concern.

“I don't… I don't know. How the fuck did he know I was here?” I asked, questioning myself more than Tyler.

4 nerve-racking hours later

I had literally spent all night trying to come up with a reason not to come home. I knew that whatever was on the other side of that door was going to be— something memorable.

I made sure to stop drinking hours ago. His “alert and responsive” remark was a warning that only WE understood. My insides were screaming because I knew Terry had a way of breaking me down and putting me back together again in the most— sensual and pleasurable way. Yes, there may be pain involved, but I couldn't care less.

I was well aware of what came with provoking Terry. At this point, it was a game for me, and my prize was always the best dick a girl could ever ask for. That was definitely the one thing I missed about having Terry living at home— the in-house, on-demand dick. Always hard, and always ready.

It was a little after 4 in the morning. I was pushing my luck coming in this late, but I might as well fully enjoy what may be my last night out for a while. I was either about to get fucked up, be fucked, or both.

After realizing that Terry's truck was nowhere to be found, I scanned the streets to see if he parked there instead. Nothing.

I reluctantly began walking to the door. How was this possible? Even the walk up to my front door was causing me anxiety. Every goddamn step felt like I was approaching the gates of hell. Was I really letting this man make me feel like a child coming home when they know they're getting an ass whooping? Yes.

I slowed my steps and began putting my hair in a ponytail. If it's one thing I knew, this ponytail may save my life. Then again, it may do the opposite. Aww, fuck!

I tossed my heels and purse into one hand while adjusting my keys with the other. Placing the key into the keyhole, I quietly unlocked the door. I paused before opening the door, praying that Terry wasn't standing on the other side.

Sliding inside as quickly as I could, I tiptoed inside the house and locked the door. From what I could see, he wasn't in the living room or the kitchen. I took a deep breath and relaxed my shoulders. I stood quietly in an attempt to possibly hear if he was somewhere in the house. I flattened my back against the door since I was still unsure of my surroundings.

From somewhere to the right of me, I heard something dart towards me. I turned around in a panic. Right as I was about to make a run for it, I saw that the culprit had a tail. I WAS ABOUT TO RUN FROM MY DAMN CAT!!!

I took a deep breath and leaned down to pick up the cat. But… As soon as my knees hit the floor, I felt a hand on the back of my head. I screamed out in shock, startling the cat.

“Oh, nah. Shit that shit up! I told you I would be waiting for you. Didn't I?” Terry growled, pulling me by my ponytail.

Like I said. The ponytail was a gift and a curse.

“Just…” I yelled, grabbing his hands in my hair.

“Touch me again. I dare you. Imma do more than tie yo’ ass up!” Terry said, holding my face to look up at him.

“Terry, I'm sorry. I was just jo—!” I started, letting my hands fall beside me.

“That was supposed to be a joke. Ha! We gone see what's funny in a minute.” Terry said, letting go of my hair.

As much as my brain was telling me to run, my pussy was begging me to stay even more.

Terry's hand wrapped around my forearm. “Stand up!” he barked.

“Please, I said I’m—,” I said, standing to my feet.

“If I have to tell you to shut up again…” Terry said, pulling me to face him.

I used the back of my hand to wipe the tears that were now falling.

“I hope you don't think those tears are stopping shit. Ain't no sense in crying. You did this to yourself, Alicia. I was trying to be nice to you, but you just don't know when to leave me the fuck alone,” Terry said, stepping closer to me.

I gulped as he glared at me, blinking slowly. Every breath he released was hot and heavy— weighed down in anger. It's as if he was battling to control himself.

“You thought that shit was so cute. Didn't you? I bet you and your little friends had a good laugh at that, huh?” Terry said, leaning down and resting his forehead on mine.

“You can speak, now. Choose your words wisely,” he said. He straightened his posture and stood to his full height, holding his hands in front of him.

“I'm sorry. I didn't tell anyone but Tyler. I swear,” I spat out as quickly as I could.

Terry paused to look at me. His eyes darkened in lust and anger. I let my gaze drop to the floor.

“Nah, you know better. Eyes on me at all times, right?” Terry demanded.

“Yes,” I said, trailing my eyes up Terry's body. I let my gaze linger on the bulge that had grown in his jeans.

“Unh unh. You gone see that in a minute. Look at me, Alicia!” Terry said, forcing me to look at him.

I rubbed my forearm nervously. I waited for Terry to say something else. Instead, he turned on his heels and sat on the couch.

Leaning back on the couch, he placed his arm over the back. “Better yet. Come here and bring your phone with you,” he said, motioning for me to approach him.

I slowly picked up my phone from the floor and walked up to him. I stood between his legs. He dropped his gaze to the floor, letting me know to kneel. I kneeled in front of him while never breaking eye contact.

“Good girl. Thank you for finally listening. Give me your phone.”

Handing him my phone, my mind immediately started to race. I knew if this man went through that phone. My ass was grass!

“Terry, wait!” I yelled, stopping him.

“Oh, you must be hiding something. You are crazy as hell if you think I can't go through a phone that I pay for every month. However, that's the least of my concerns right now,” he scoffed, tossing the phone beside him on the couch.

“I just… I… I know that… if…,” I stuttered.

“Don't even worry about it, love. Because after tonight, it won't matter what nigga is in that phone. You'll know who you belong to. I can promise you that.”

Terry leaned forward, grabbing the side of my face firmly. I gasped in anticipation.

“I don't understand why you choose to play with me, baby girl. Here I am asking for my family back, and your ass wants to play these childish ass games.”

“Terry, baby. I—,” I said before he placed his hand around the front of my throat. I instantly shut my mouth.

“Look at that! How sweet. I didn't even have to do it, and you knew.” Terry said, biting his bottom lip. He moaned as he watched me. He was more than thrilled with my natural obedience.

Moving his hand to cup my chin, he let his thumb trace the silhouette of my bottom lip.

“Mmm… Daddy misses these lips. The way they look, the way they feel— everything!”

Terry's hand let go of my chin as he sank back into the couch. I watched fervently as he undid his belt. Making quick work of his pants, he freed himself from the confinement of his boxers.

I eyed his dick, waiting for his permission to even touch it.

“I told you you'd get to see it. Unfortunately, touching it ain't an option. At least not right now, especially with that foul mouth of yours.”

My face dropped in disbelief as I began to pout.

“What you will get to do is watch me. Watch me while I… uh… make you wish it was you handling this for me.” Terry laughed while lifting my head back up to watch him.

So, it begins. This is the part where he breaks me.

Terry wrapped his hand firmly around the base of his dick. “All you had to do was behave, but you just can't. I bet you'll be on your best fuckin’ behavior after tonight.”

Terry's hand stroked the length of his shaft. His contentment was already evident as small droplets of precum began to leak from his tip.

I rested my hands on my thighs, pressing my fingertips into the cushion of my thighs. I was fighting the urge to lick what I felt was mine; however, I knew that wouldn't end the way I wanted. Licking my tongue out, I let it slide across the flesh of my bottom lip.

Terry grunted in response. My eyes darted from his dick to his face. His eyes were low and wanton. He was just as needy as I was. Our gazes locked in fervor, passing a mutual message that intensified the salacious hunger between us.

Terry's hand sped up and tightened around his head. His grunts grew deeper and more primal. He was feigning to cum.

I tilted my head and lowered my gaze, pleading with my eyes. Sitting here with my hands in my lap wasn't enough for me. I whined while wiggling my hips, trying to feel something to help the ache between my legs.

“Fuck! You got 3 minutes to make me cum or else!” Terry said, leaning up and grabbing the back of my head.

He didn't even have to finish his movement. My mouth was on his dick before he could even grab me. I was horny, I was needy, and most importantly, I was hungry.

I took all of Terry in on a single inhale not giving a fuck about my throat. I needed this. I let saliva fall from my mouth and down the sides of his shaft. Pulling back, I hollowed out my cheeks and created a vacuum around the head of Terry's dick.

“Ahhh, fuck. You… you always know… ugh.. exactly what to do, baby girl. That's right. This dick is yours, mama. Ahhh, shit. Keep going, baby,” Terry said, stroking the side of my face.

I moaned around his dick. Swallowing his full length again with pride, I smiled around him. Opening my mouth slowly, I sunk down further until my nose hit the patch of hair he grew there. Relaxing every muscle in my throat I let him sit in the back of my throat while I hummed and moaned in pleasure. This… this was the ache I was seeking. This was what I wanted to feel— the burn and stretch of this very moment.

I pulled off of Terry with a pop, watching as a thin string of saliva and cum fell from my lips. Grabbing him mid-shaft, I began to jerk his dick. Fully consumed by my own pleasure, I failed to immediately take notice of Terry's silence.

I looked up to see Terry's eyes closed as he released a slew of low, rough moans. I instantly put my mouth back on him, focusing solely on his head. Using my tongue to massage his tip, I was hoping to push Terry over the edge.

Watching him closely, I marveled at the sight before me. His head had rolled back on his shoulders, and his bottom lip was tucked in between his teeth. As I felt Terry's dick begin to pulse, I took him into the back of my throat again. I wanted every drop of him, and I was going to make sure I got it.

Letting him paint the back of my throat was the only thing on my mind. I started sucking Terry like my life depended on it. His hand gripped the back of my head, but even that didn't stop me. I rested my hands on Terry's legs for support as I put my all into it.

As soon as I felt like the first drops of cum were about to make an appearance, Terry grunted and pulled me back. His dick fell from my mouth and into his own hands. Leaning my head back, Terry stroked himself twice before erupting— all over my face.

I closed my eyes, feeling the warm sticky substance coat my eyelashes along with my forehead, nose, and lips. I exhaled as I thanked God that I closed my eyes in time.

“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue!” Terry barked as I felt him moving around.

I opened my mouth and felt him push his dick inside again. Resting the full weight of his dick on my tongue, he told me to keep my mouth open.

“Smile!” he said as I heard a camera shutter.

Without a second thought, my eyes shot open.

“For memories. Adding it to the stash.”

Of course! That's what the fuck he wanted the phone for. I pulled back, letting his dick fall out. “I told you that you're mine. Didn't I?” he said, leaning up.

“Oh, don't think we're done either. Stand up!” he nodded.

I rose to my feet, wobbling. As I stood before Terry, I went to wipe my face. His hand reached out to grab my hand.

“Nah, baby girl. You gone wear that shit with pride. I plan on marking my territory in more ways than one. There will be no creampies tonight,” he warns, standing from the couch.

“But Terry I—,” I said.

His arms wrapped around my waist as he lifted me. Wrapping my legs around him, he turned to walk towards the hallway. My body practically melted into him as I clung to his back. I began to whine and moan while kissing his neck.

“Daddy missed this pussy— MY pussy,” Terry moaned as his hands pushed the strapless dress I wore up past my stomach. The thin fabric began bunching up.

“Ahhh, mmmm. Fuck!” I moaned, placing my hands around his neck.

As we approached the bedroom door, Terry didn't even reach to open it. Instead, he opted for kicking it open.

“Don't worry. I'll fix it!” he grinned.

Walking to the foot of the bed, he laid me directly in the middle. He stepped back and completely undressed himself. God Lord, I missed this body.

I leaned up and began kissing and touching his abdomen. Moving my hands out of the way, Terry's hands went to the neckline of the dress as he leaned over me. In one swift move, he tore the top of the dress in half, continuing to tear the fabric from my body until nothing was left.

While I was preoccupied with my own thoughts, he pushed me down onto the bed. Climbing onto the bed and settling between my thighs, he wrapped my legs around his waist.

Looking at me with the most sinful smirk, he entered me in one thrust. I gasped out in both pain and pleasure. We hadn't had sex in over four months. The feeling of him stretching my pussy out sent my eyes rolling into the back of my head.

“You gone feel me tonight, baby. All of me,” he said, leaning down to kiss my neck.

Pulling every inch of his dick out to the tip, he inserted himself again. He was clearly on a mission.

Thrust after thrust…

“So, you gone give my pussy away? Huh? Answer me when I'm talkin' to you!” he said, thrusting into me harder.

“No!” I yelled as my back arched off the bed.

Using nothing but his body weight, Terry flattened me out again. “No, ma'am.” He said, pulling out to thrust back in again. “The fuck you moving for? You gone take this dick. It's yours, ain't?” he asked, kissing my chin.

“Yes, this… this is… ahhh, fuckkk… This is my dick!” I screamed out as he pounded into me. Every thrust knocked the syllables from my lips.

“That's right. This your dick, baby. All of it! Every fuckin' inch, mama! Now, what you gone do with it, huh?” he growled in my ear, taunting me.

“I'm… gonna… fuckin'… take… it!” I whimpered. His thrusts began to pick up speed.

“Good girl, and you gone let me cum wherever I want to, right?” Terry coaxed, hitting my g-spot over and over again.

“Yes!” I yelled, clawing at Terry's back.

I was so close to cumming, and this shit felt so damn good. Hell, I'd even let him cum on my face again.

“I knew my baby would. Who pussy this is, mama?” he asked, smirking.

“Yours! For… ever! Terry, please! Can… ohhhh… can I cum?” I begged as I felt my climax quickly approaching.

“You better wet this dick up, too. Come on, baby.” Terry uttered softly, talking me through it. “Oouu… look at my baby,” he said, fucking me through my orgasm.

“Terry!” I moaned out, digging into his forearms.

“Look at that shit! Wet as fuck!” he said, watching himself slip in and out.

“Yes! Shit! Ohhh, fuck!” I gasped as he slowed his strokes.

“Yeah! Just like that. You ready? Tell Daddy that you're ready,” he groaned clearly at his peak.

“Please, Daddy! Cum for me!” I yelled.

Terry pulled out, aiming straight for my pussy and stomach. I watched intently as ropes of cum landed on my lower abdomen and the mound of my pussy. Using his dick, Terry began to mix the remainder of his cum into my own. He beamed as he created a disgusting and sloppy mess between my legs.

“I wish you could see it, baby. It's so pretty,” he said, looking up. His eyes roamed over the entirety of my body, lingering on the areas covered in his cum. “You look so pretty, mama,” Terry praised.

“I know I do, and it's all because of you,” I said, pulling Terry in for a kiss.

Taglist: @episodes-ff @babybratzmaraj @persethegawd @pocketsizedpanther @writingsbytee @kimuzostar @confessionsofadramaqueenn @luvrsluxe @blackmoonchilee @meannaim @nayaesworld @msdmc1 @megamindsecretlair @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @mymindisneverhere @brattyfics @avoidthings @honeytoffee @peachbuttetfly @melaninadorned @theglamclosetsl @simplyzeeka @dxddykenn @charismablu @blackerthings @slutsareteacherstoo @vivaalenaa @becauseimswagman1 @keehendrixx @teeresaresa @beenathembo @inthekeyofshe @notapradagurl7 @blowmymbackout

This taglist is random and sort of thrown together. Sorry.😔

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forwards-beckon-rebound · 2 months ago

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more jason todd hcs because i said so!!! pt 2

or more like what was he doing at wayne manor when he wasn't busy being robin pt 1

back in crime alley, he’d go to the one library because it opened late and had air conditioning and heating (a luxury his own home didn’t have)

he’d read basically anything he could get his hands on

mostly he reads stories about fantastical adventures in far off lands, fighting monsters and saving the day

sometimes he read stuff like the little princess and prays that really will be him one day

so when he meets batman for the first time and he doesn’t get beaten up for stealing the tires but instead adopted? he can’t help but want to see where this goes

he tries so hard to make bruce not regret his decision

he makes sure to stay at the top of his classes, even when that means late nights studying in his room even after all of his training

he finds any newspaper articles that he can on robin and marvels at all of his feats

he reads true crime cases, even if they make his stomach churn, so he can improve his investigation skills

he trains until he retches on the floor, and then he cleans it up so as not to bother anyone and goes back to training

sure he acts all confident and happy but really? he knows that his current life was given to him by the whims of some rich guy and he could very well lose it all the next day

he stashed nonperishable food in his room, trinkets he’s been gifted that he thinks he could sell

but as the days go by and it seems like bruce has no intention of making him leave, and in fact he’s being treated almost like a son? it makes jason gain hope

the first time bruce asks him to come to a gala, jason is so excited he can’t sleep

he's stressing out over his suit (it's the first time he's ever worn one, much less had one custom made to fit him)

he checks up on it multiple times a day and will lowkey freak out if he finds a wrinkle (he won't because obviously it's alfred)

he's practicing how to tie a tie in the mirror perfectly

once he gets to the gala, he's buzzing from the nerves and excitement

will he feel out of place amongst all of these rich people who probably see him as a charity case?

sure, but the fact that he’s making a public appearance…surely this means that his stay at the manor will not be short-lived

he gets introduced as bruce’s adopted son and with each greeting he can’t help but puff his chest out just a bit more

as he wanders towards the punch bowl, he hears a group of ladies gossip about whether jason is actually bruce’s illegitimate child

it makes sense. they both have black hair, blue eyes, the same square jaw and heavy set eyebrows

he could probably correct them if he wanted to. but this is one rumour he doesn’t mind floating around

and that night, he has never been more grateful for the colour of his eyes

he thinks somewhere along the way he gets caught up in all of it

he lets himself get comfortable at the manor

he didn't have much in his room growing up. mostly because there wasn't anything to display to begin with, but also because they'd be evicted from their previous place so often, more belongings just meant more things to move

fills his room with personal trinkets. a dagger here, a mask there. he has photos framed. him meeting the justice league, with the titans, his first christmas at the manor (bruce has the same one in his office too)

i personally hc that some entrepreneurial gothamites have made bootleg batman and robin merch (actually is it bootleg if there's no official merch? who knows)

kind of like those i heart new york shirts with the local tourist spots on it

but it's batman lmfao

butttttttt i'm just imagining them coming across a dude selling chibi batman and robin merch while they're on patrol

and bruce hates it because like why is his head so big? why are his eyes so disproportionately large? does he have some sort of illness

but he notices how long jason's staring at them so he breaks the batsona for a bit to buy it for him

and jason has it on display in his room

imagine if they have one of those height markers in the house from when dick was still home

and then they add jason's and he can't help but stare enviously at dick's marking and wonders when he'll get there

alfred assures him he will be as tall as master dick one day, and they'll make sure to add it so that he "wins," as he so put it

unfortunately that day won't come. not because he doesn't grow taller than dick but by that point, it's too late

he has his own personal corner in the library

it's a cozy armchair that's just close enough to a window to get natural light while he's reading, but also close to the fireplace so that on winter days he's not freezing to death

it wasn't like that when he first got there. actually, the chair was much closer to the fireplace, where the rest of the furniture is arranged

but as time went on, he thought it'd be okay if he moved the chair just a littleeee bit more to the right. surely bruce wouldn't mind. and nobody ever said anything, so he'd move it bit by bit until eventually it was where it still is

it looks kind of out of place at this point. i mean, imagine a singular armchair way off to the side. but it's his spot and nobody moves it, even after he's gone

honestly, everybody else never really went into the library before or after, but whenever jason had free time, that's where he would be

he's just always there, even though he's been told that he's allowed to take the books around the house or to school if he wants

he's so careful with keeping the books safe, thinks it best that he leaves them in the library

he doesn't want to give them a reason to think he's a bother

he will bring a few books to his room, the ones he likes to read before he goes to sleep to wind down

i'm just thinking about the little reminders of jason todd scattered throughout the manor

the dining chair that's a little wobbly from the time jason tried to show bruce a trick

a burn mark on a wooden pan handle from the first time alfred taught him how to cook

a window pane that's not quite like the rest of them after he tried to copy dick's iconic quad flip

a bronze dog statue in a hallway because of course the waynes would own one. its head is shinier than the rest of its body from the times he would pet it

and sure, you could call it damage if you wanted to

but it's hard to think about it that way when really, those are some of the last reminders that he really was there

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ma1dita · 9 months ago

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when the curtains close

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader prev -> love me dry | next -> asking for trouble words: 5.3k summary: (post-tlt) The one where you lose two people in the Labyrinth that day. All strings are cut. (Pollux, Annabeth, Percy, and Mr. D find out the biggest difference between you and Luke.) (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader) a/n: yeah to me this fic sounds and feels like that tiktok of the girl humming to her microwave. depictions of the titular battle of the labyrinth at CHB, some blood/gore, death & grief. the usual. you forced me to by lizzy mcalpine. references to cat on a hot tin roof by tennessee williams if you squint (posted 5/14/24)

—

The first time Pollux has a panic attack, time seems to stop and the world keeps moving on without him.

He’s reminded of a time when you rambled on about how anxiety takes possession of the senses like a moment frozen in a snapshot meant for you to identify. In the memory, you had your feet kicked up on the dash flipping through a DSM-5 while he and Castor took turns speeding up and down Farm Road (totally normal older sister behavior from you, and when a cop pulled you over, the three of you narrowly escaped a ticket by talking in riddles and godly smoke that smelled like grapes). Pollux still remembers the sound of laughter in the car blending like three different chords to an archaic melody (or squawking crows in the strawberry fields)— the bond between you three laid out before time knew limits and was always meant to be.

It’s still his favorite song. You’re their favorite (and only) sister, they love to joke. These are facts that will never change.

“You two have each other, and well, I’ve got this,” you had said, the Zippo flicking open and closed against your thumb in the blossoming darkness of the car. Pink and purple rays of waning light blanketed the old hatchback as it steadily made its way back towards Half-Blood Hill, comfortable silence shared in the way only siblings can stand to be quiet—when there are no words needed to get a point across. But you’ve always set yourself apart from the pack, not needing anyone like how they need each other.

Not since Luke left, at least. The growing distance between you three since your untimely resignation from camp was proof enough. Pollux’s eyes met Castor’s in the rearview mirror as they both noticed your sad smile. His brother’s voice broke through the silence then, having always been the one blunt enough to say what was on his mind, “You’ve got us too if you let us see you more often.” Your fidgeting stops.

“It’s not you two, it’s just hard to be back here sometimes. I see things for what they used to be instead of how they really are now. Now it’s just… it has to be all business.”

Pollux cracked a smile, “S’what you get for growing up. Soon we’ll just be annoying voices in your head like you are to us.” Shutting your textbook, you turned to look at them from the passenger seat, eyes that match theirs darting between their blond heads, “All of us have to grow up eventually. Except maybe you two— I prefer you in my nightmares like the kids from The Shining. Whenever you get sick of Dad, come see me. Gods know that camp deserves a break from the two of you too.” Your knuckles knocked against both of their heads affectionately as he put the car in park, “My built-in bodyguards, huh? Always looking out for me.”

All words and meaning escape Pollux now as he stands in the greenery of the North Woods with battle gear ill-fitted to his large frame. It’s the first siege he’s ever taken part in, the first time he’s had to use battle strategies outside of Capture the Flag and the first time he’s slashed his way through monsters and demigods with the intent to try and kill or be killed. Sword and Shield could have never prepared any of them for this—as his eyes meet Castor’s and then yours with all of you thinking the same thing, the three of you join the sea of iridescent orange through mind-numbing black moving like a sharp three-pronged sword.

This type of stuff isn’t typical for him, he thinks. He and Castor are used to being comedic relief— being the source of laughs and juice boxes for pesky little campers instead of facing the real world outside the boundaries of the Mist. Perhaps your father babied them to make up for the time he lost with you, but there’s a moment where he wonders how being kept soft will keep him alive in a world as harsh as this one.

Childlike innocence is ripped away from them in the bubble they’ve inhabited until this moment. Home is now a warzone and like lambs set up for slaughter, the twins both turn to look at you as a shuddering gasp leaves your mouth at the carnage in your surroundings, monster blood and fallen friends and enemies at your feet. Breaking away from formation to take a deep breath, he looks at the sky and wonders where your father is, but smoke and soot fill his lungs and he coughs desperately for a breath of fresh air.

Pollux thinks he must have stopped breathing before Castor took his last breath. It wasn’t supposed to be a competition, but sometimes life was just funny like that.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

Just like you told him.

Castor was always the more manic one while Pollux knew how to endure. Children of Dionysus are forced to befriend insanity before it makes an enemy out of them—twisting the ugly into what’s real and creating something beautiful out of the deranged. You’ve shown the boys how you detach from emotion by recognizing the details—separating fact and fiction, a methodical process only describable by the blood that runs through your veins. Pollux doesn’t know where to start—everything happens so fast but it plays out in front of him like someone put the pieces together to a stop-motion animation.

He sees Castor’s sword fall to the ground when he gets slashed on the forearm and sees him get clubbed over the head with a metal weapon he’s only seen bad renditions forged for theater practices and hanging on the walls of the armory. Castor falls first to his knees, and then into the dirt with a thud. He never knew there could be that much blood coming out of a person, much less a mirror image of himself. Pollux sees your face come into his line of vision, deep maroon splatters on your face glittering with hints of ichor and then you’re moving because he can’t. The enemy is coming back for him now, and for a moment he wonders if Castor will be mad if he lets him. He sees you turn in an instant, swinging your sword down on the neck of the aggressor, a teenager not much older than he and his brother are—were. It’s funny how his brain immediately makes the switch to past tense, and how he can’t stop thinking about how he’ll now and forever be older than his twin. Pollux then sees you catch the body of the boy you just killed as life seeps out of him slower than it did for Castor.

It doesn’t make him feel any better, though.

His knees hit the ground next to his twin, touching the sludge of dirt soft like quicksand and moist with what he hopes is not blood, but Pollux is not quite sure of what else there is to hope for. His fist is wrapped around Castor’s shirtsleeve, touching faded orange and sweat as he holds on for dear life. Maybe if he tries hard enough his soul will still be intertwined with his. Your hand touches his shoulder, five fingers reaching out to brush the back of his neck and the feeling of your skin helps him refocus a bit, even if you’re saying something he can’t make out. Then the metal of your Zippo lighter feels cool to the touch within his palm and he knows what he needs to do.

The battle isn’t over, but for the three of you, everything stops here. There is no going forward without your brother. You were never meant to be children of war.

Pollux hears the sound of his heartbeat thundering through his ears, blood rushing through his veins and can’t help but notice the silence amid the chaos. There are no words fit for this—and even if there were, Castor and you were always the more talkative ones. He hears the spark of the purple flame between his fingers, blowing the smoke over him and his brother’s body, and their father’s powers blanket them like how you used to tuck them into bed, warm and safe. This is what your family is—unconventional and unending even in different realms of existence. And then Grover’s scream of panic echoes through the air and everyone hears that. Hysteria ensues as monsters and demigods alike run amok, and Pollux realizes he’s stopped shaking.

In his father’s domain, he will always find comfort.

You stand above him now directing campers calmly with a free hand—a brewing storm crackling underneath your skin that he now understands. Hidden by the illusion of smoke, Pollux’s tired bones rest alongside his brother’s dead ones— together as they always were meant to be.

The three of you together, his little family—that is a fact he hoped would never change.

The smell of grapes envelops him as he leans his forehead against your muddy leg… when did the battle end? It almost masks the scent of death that rips through the air as your hand brushes through his sandy hair. Pollux stinks of sweat and you stifle a laugh as you see him smell his armpit. You three were always the same type of fucked up. He doesn’t look down at Castor laid across his lap but knows he would’ve found it funny too. Ignorance of reality even for a moment serves as a comfort. Purple meets purple as he looks up at you with a smile that doesn’t fit his face anymore and he croaks, “Wonder what dad would say about our first battle…”

Glory was never meant to be this bittersweet—it tastes like blood in his mouth until he wipes it away from his cheek and realizes it’s Castor’s. In a way, it’s his too, everything about him and within him is exactly the same down to the star stuff the fates wove them from.

“I’ll be the one to tell him. You take care of Castor,” you answer, as if there’s anything else he would want to do and then he realizes you’re crying— and he’s seeing all of the pieces put together in front of him in this photograph in his mind.

Pollux blinks slowly.

Suddenly the image he has of you is more defined— there is new meaning to the sadness you could never shake off all these years, and he is too young to lose his greatest love, which makes him realize then that so were you.

How long does this have to go on? he wonders, grabbing onto your hand with an eagerness only comparable to the feeling he got when you and Luke whisked him and Castor away from Florida all those years ago. This punishment of living while half of his soul does not—what is he supposed to do next? This was supposed to be the safe place. There is nowhere left to run. His thumb rubs circles into the back of your shaking blood-soaked hand, a secret within the smoke.

Pollux thinks there will always be a part of him frozen in time now, a memory of this day hung up in his mind like a portrait as he holds Castor’s cold hand in his warm one.

—

Annabeth finds you in the middle of the strawberry fields before the sun sets. She knows you won’t be sleeping tonight, not if you can fight it— not when there’s so much to do. You’ve long grown out of your ripped-up and tie-dyed camp shirts, and the one slung on your frame is newly pressed and starchy from the storage room of the Big House, still stiff against your freshly washed skin. When she’s close enough to touch you, you’ve been scrubbed clean of today.

She doesn’t have to be a daughter of Athena to know that you know that she’s there even if you can’t see her, but for once she feels like she has to hide. For once, Annabeth Chase doesn’t know what to say. How can she explain the feeling of guilt that coils around her brain like barbed wire—how can she even begin to apologize for the thing wearing her brother’s skin, knowing that it killed yours? For once, her hubris is crushed by the sinking feeling of humiliation.

“Was your first quest all you thought it would be, Annie?”

As she takes her navy cap off, silver braided strands around her face wave in the wind as a reminder of what Luke put her through. Though as she looks at you now with your berry-stained fingers plucking at stems one by one instead of using your powers, she thinks that your mind is elsewhere—anywhere but here, where everything is a painful reminder of your five years as a camper.

Five years with Luke.

Mourning him isn’t a new feeling for either of you, even though he comes in and out of your lives like a poltergeist you want to bash across the head, just always out of reach. But he’s a constant, even when he’s not here and he’s what binds you two together as you huddle hidden away from the rest of camp.

“He did this for you.”

It’s not a question, more so a fact out of Annie’s mouth when you finally meet her eyes and sigh, “Luke’s always had a way going about things. The most stubborn man to ever live.” You toss another strawberry into the crate at your feet. No one’s working right now, trying to tend to the injured and the dead. Everyone’s doing their best to chase away the nightmares that are bound to come, and she knows you’ll be making rounds with her on the night shift to ease everyone’s anxieties. But there’s a thought so strong it makes her head hurt, bursting at the seams until she can’t stop with her last-ditch effort to fix her found family.

“Maybe if we find him, we can save—”

“He’s been out of time for a while now, Annabeth. We both knew that,” you say, voice firm and unwavering. You’ve never sounded so monotone before, and it hits her as her mouth falls agape, “You’re giving up on him? Why… why would you give up on him?” Anger courses through her veins like fire and she’s mad that she’s at the center of this prophecy, of Hermes’s anger for his doomed son who will love you until the ends of the earth.

And what of her?

What of the hope she has in happy endings, how is it that you’re so damn calm? Annabeth kicks at the crate, strawberries rolling out in different directions and your jaw tightens as you let her be petulant, let her scream and yell until her inner child can catch up with the reality of the world around you.

“How could you?”

Your name echoes as she repeats it, grabbing at your shoulders and she’s as desperate as the truth that shakes her when you cup her face in your hands and wipe her tears.

“You’ve carried the weight of the world Annabeth– you know what it feels like to let it go. It’s time to let him go. There’s nothing I can do or say to fix this.”

Then it hits her that you knew of his fate and yet this was still the outcome. There was nothing else to do but watch him be puppeteered by a Titan and have to fight evil while it wears his face.

“He came to you after he saw me, didn’t he? Why didn’t you tell me? Why don’t you love him anymore?”

Because it wouldn’t have changed a thing, your eyes say. Instead, you grimace as you say, “Wouldn’t that be funny if it were true?” You lean down and pick up the fallen berries, some bruised and covered in dirt, and then you look at her again with teary eyes.

“Some prophecy huh? To lose a love to worse than death. What could we have done besides love him until the end?”

“He’s still in there. I know you know that too. Don’t talk about him like he’s not,” Annabeth insists, and a sad smile settles upon your face. It’s as gentle as the kiss of the breeze on your cheeks.

“I lost a brother today, Annie.”

“Me too.”

—

The funny thing about planning funerals is that with all the fuss it takes to organize one, you still find extra time on your hands. Barely getting any sleep and dragging yourself out of your dad’s bed, Pollux snores loudly next to you after hours of working on Castor’s shroud. Sleep wasn’t expected for either of you, but being unconscious was the only way of giving your brains a reprieve. The both of you have been busy doubling down on the preparations, even if it means Mr. D won’t be back in time while he’s out rallying gods for war.

The faster Castor’s earthly body is reconnected with his soul, the easier his trip will be into the Underworld, Nico says, and it’s funny how comforting the little emo pipsqueak can be when it comes to matters of death.

Perhaps this is the solace you bring to others with things you’re able to control—keeping camp afloat is something you were always good at, and helping every traumatized child that comes up to you for a juice box or a lullaby eases the guilt that follows you. Walking around Camp Half-Blood for more than a weekend made you feel like a judge, jury, and executioner. Though most of the campers from almost five years ago have either aged out, defected, or died—the ones that remain still look at you like you’re trouble.

Perhaps you always will be.

You even found yourself with the time to pray to Hermes last night for your brother’s safe passage into the afterlife, though if he’s angry at Annabeth, he must hate you for letting Luke go. Dinner didn’t seem appetizing enough anyway, so your whole plate was tossed into the hearth. You hope he likes chicken and rice.

But if a god can’t fight fate, what did he expect you to do?

The Iris Message to your dad last night was difficult, to say the least. Pollux’s hands shook as he continued to paint grape vines onto the silk cloth and the both of you didn’t say anything when your father started to cry. He out of all of the gods knows what it’s like to be tested to the limits—to endure pain and it’s a gift you and your brother are grateful for in times like these. Watching the god display the human emotion that either of you couldn’t as freely made it more real though.

There was also the interesting predicament of Chris Rodriguez being locked up in the basement of the Big House. Replacing screaming fits with serenity was almost second nature, and your gentle hands were what got Clarisse to truly respect you again for the first time in years. You could hear her sneak downstairs and talk to him while he slept (and the look in her eyes when you’d greet her with a cup of coffee made it known to you that she finally understands what it means to love someone who’s lost—two demigod daughters filled with a lot of rage and hurt were more alike than they think).

So the morning of your little brother’s funeral, you found yourself on the shoreline of Canoe Lake, setting your Redbull against the post of the dock and looking out onto the water.

You needed to do something with your hands. In the past few days, if your fingers were not occupied by pen and paper, a guitar, supply crates, or anything else that was helpful to others and all the more distracting for you, it’s been so easy to pick at any little thing. Perhaps it was your subconscious trying to reflect the damage on the inside, but today, your nail polish was chipped beyond belief. A small price to pay to not lose it without a signature boyish smile to ease your worries and amber eyes that could help you escape from the routine.

Running camp was always easier back then with your runaway boy and his scarred cheek.

How pathetic.

Crouched over in the sand, you plucked stones and filled your pockets with them. They knocked against each other — weighing your pockets down as you walked closer to the dock. Swinging your feet off the side and chucking them into the water, you could barely achieve a ripple.

It’s so quiet that you end up wondering if the rocks in your pockets would weigh you down to the bottom of the lake. It must be nice down there, to exist away from everything.

Bubbles surface slowly in front of you, then Percy’s head bobs in the water as he squints at you through sunlight.

“You chucked a rock at my head!”

A smile tugs at your lips, almost indiscernible but definitely there, “I was trying to skip them. Didn’t know you were doing water tricks in there, kid.” His grin gleams like freshwater pearls, pulling himself up onto the dock as his hand clasps yours. Shaking his sopping hair, Percy’s gangly frame sits next to yours like a wet bag of sand—all wrinkly and misshapen and sprinkling you with lakewater.

“Maybe next time don’t pick rocks the size of your fist. How many have you got in there? Your aim is scarily accurate,” he laughs and you huff and shake your head when his hand sticks into your pocket and takes out a few smooth ones to roll around in his hand. You mirror him, watching him skip a few stones into the water that reach a good distance before sinking into the depths of the lake.

There’s something sad about feeling comfortable to trauma dump on the teenage son of Poseidon, but with the way he grabs your arm at your third unsuccessful toss of a rock, you can’t do anything else but sigh.

“Why didn’t any of you call me, Percy?”

He was waiting for this question—it’s been banging around in his head since the beginning of Annabeth’s quest, and perhaps her talk with you yesterday didn’t go as expected so once again he’s left with the difficult part.

Things happen to turn out pretty difficult for him a lot, he's noticed.

Many things could have been made easier in the past few weeks: Ariadne being your stepmother and her blessing to you would’ve made the Labyrinth easier to navigate, and having another demigod to fight alongside him instead of a mortal girl would’ve been a plus too. But he looks at you with ocean eyes and a smaller smile that reminds you of how he looked at you when you dropped him off in Montauk the summer you met him and quit your head counselor job.

“You’ve already made a lot of difficult decisions. We weren’t sure if…”

The rotten wood beneath you creaks under your shifting weight as you turn to him, tucking your legs underneath your bottom.

“Didn’t think I could handle it?”

He shakes his head, “The opposite, actually. Annabeth has this notion that you’re the only one that can save him. You know, back on my first quest I met Luke’s dad and he told me something…”

You swallow instead of answering. There’s no way Percy is giving you Hermes’s advice right now. Somehow this feels like karmic retribution after years of spiting that asshole, and what he tells you next is more of a sign that it must be true.

“He said, ‘Do you know what that feels like? To be so close to someone you love knowing neither of you has any choice but to keep hurting each other?’ I didn’t get it then, but I do now.”

“With Luke and his mom?” you ask, picking at the remaining slivers of varnish on your thumbnail.

“With you and Luke. I didn’t call you, because… why would I want to see you hurt after everything?” Percy says this like it’s something he would do for everyone.

Perhaps it is, but the knot that forms in your throat feels as heavy as the boulder you almost sunk into his skull. He’s tall enough to lean your head against now, and you don’t mind the water spots that will form along the side of your funeral outfit. The shape of him it leaves will remind you of the little brother you gained through so much loss.

“Plus he has a new girlfriend. Absolute horse of a girl,” he jokes. It slips over your head but you still giggle, “I could’ve taken her.”

“I know, that was Grover’s worry. You’re prettier anyway…” Percy pauses, and then clears his throat, “You’ve always taken care of this place, y’know? Even after….I just think someone ought to take care of you.”

Your shoulder bumps against his as you finally skip a rock. It only bounces across the water twice and you think Percy might have had something to do with it, but you’re not bothered by the help this time around.

—

You wake up in the dark of night to see your dad looming in the doorway to his office. With drool and a post-it stuck to your cheek, he comes over to ruffle your hair in amicable silence.

“Hard at work or hardly working?” he chuckles, leaning over your shoulder to scan over the paperwork sorted into piles for him to sign from his absence.

“Hm. You wish,” you scoff, leaning against your arm as you look at him. He’s not in his usual eyesore of attire, wearing a clean-pressed suit with his hair slightly slicked back.

“You look good. The meeting went okay?”

“Grover will be fine. The Council of Cloven Elders? Not so much. Neither are the gods ready to take sides. Putting out little fires everywhere as we speak.”

The wheels of the office chair roll as you swing your feet, and if you both listen closely enough you can hear Pollux snoring upstairs. Chiron loved the earplugs you gave him.

Your father’s face smooths out a bit at the sight of you and the sound of his son’s breathing upstairs and he asks, “Are you? Good?”

A shrug slides off your shoulders, “How does one be good in a world like this one?”

A startling scream echoes off the walls of the Big House, rattling the floorboards from below as your father grimaces.

The work is never done for you two.

“Don’t look at me like that. It was worse when he first came here.”

“Don’t doubt it,” he mumbles, brushing lint off your shirt before he notices you’re donning neon orange. “Didn’t do laundry, princess?”

“Pollux and I haven’t gone back to our cabin since... I can wake him up if you—”

Mr. D shakes his head and goes to toss his body onto the couch against the window, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Dad? Do you think Chris is a bad person?”

A beat passes and you think he may have fallen asleep, but then his voice sounds like gravel scraping up his throat.

“I don’t think anyone can be bad, kid. I think it is more often that people get lost. What Rodriguez needs is someone to take hold of him gently, and hand his life back to him—you…Clarisse… that’s what we’re giving him.”

Now you’re silent, staring at the dust on his name placard at the edge of the desk.

“Do you think otherwise?”

He calls your name again, and you look up like you’re about to lie to him but don’t have the energy to.

“Princess, do you think you’re a bad person?”

He stands up and walks around to your side of the desk, sitting on the edge so you have to look at him.

“I killed someone. During the battle. Didn’t even think twice about it, slashed his neck as soon as Castor went down and…” you sniff. “I kill monsters, Dad, not children. How does that make me any different?”

The last time blood was on your hands like this it was Luke’s in the Garden of Hesperides. All these years later you ended up being right— the only person you vowed to get bloody for is Luke Castellan, and now in a twisted turn of fate, you’ve bloodied your hands because of him.

“Because you did it for your brother. There are no other explanations needed.”

He sees the exhaustion in your eyes, the drop in your shoulders, but your dad also sees the strength in your bones that spans generations and he knows you and Pollux are strong because you are both his.

“Humans believe in life everlasting—glory, as some call it, but they’re too focused on achieving it on earth instead of enjoying what life has to offer,” he scoffs, “Everyone has the guts to die, but no one has the guts to truly live. How sad.”

“His name was Rowan. Son of Hecate. I taught him how to whistle the summer I left. This is all my fault, Dad,” you say shakily as he comes near and pulls you into his side. He shushes you but you relent.

“Luke’s killing all these people to fulfill a promise he made for me. I’m just fucking disgusted with myself for being the cause of it all. What good life can I deserve when wherever I go I leave a trail of blood?”

Love and addiction must be so alike; to know that to be sober you can’t indulge in the vice ever again—not only does it hurt you, but others around you. But through the years you’ve always kept the taste of his name in your mouth, the feeling of his skin under your fingertips, and the knowledge of why he’s destroying the world so he can make you a better one. Insanity stems from fighting for so long that you embrace the pain; feeling something so intensely that when it consumes you you’re able to walk out the other side and wear it as armor.

Not everyone is hardwired to persevere.

There are moments like a night like these where it would be easy to give up. Instead, you pour two glasses of whiskey you’ve conjured and hand one to your dad. You both sip on your drinks slowly, embracing the crawling feeling of the burn.

“Liquor is one way out and death is another,” your dad sighs blissfully. He almost looks rejuvenated by the alcohol he knows he’ll hear about from Zeus later, but perhaps the death of his son is a good enough pardon.

“For some of us, we don’t have to think about the answer.”

Mr. D grabs a pen off the desk and starts signing papers to do something with his hands, and then you speak again, “I think I’d rather die for people I love,” and your dad’s attention whips to your blank face staring at the moon outside the window. “Instead of killing for them. I’ve never been a good soldier, Dad.”

Mr. D looks at you thoughtfully and wonders where all the time has gone that you sit there in front of him with more knowledge than him at your mortal age before saying, “You’re my daughter. You’re a fighter. Death is for chumps anyway.”

He lifts you by the arm to try to usher you up the stairs but you stay in his office chair swatting his hands away.

“Got work to do, you and I. Not getting rid of me until it’s done.”

“When are you going home?” he asks, pulling up a chair next to yours.

“I am home.”

You don’t look up from the papers you were filing, stubbornness leaking through your voice.

“If there is a war coming, I want to be home as much as I can. I’m finishing my last semester and I’ll be here before and after classes. You can’t stop me, dad.”

And he knows that too.

There is no such thing as leaving Camp Half-Blood for you.

Never for too long. Your love for it is scattered everywhere campers can see.

—

In all these years, you never believed I loved you. And I did. I did so much. I did love you. I even loved your hate and your hardness. - Tennessee Williams

#luke castellan x reader #trouble!verse #made by ma1dita ♥︎#pjo x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan angst

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shiurkoma · 8 months ago

Text

Take: chaotic evil Yehonatan, in which he knew David is meant to replace him and his father from the very start.

TLDR: Yehonatan is as, if not more likely to be the abuser in their relationship because it is plain unfair to overlook how humongous their power gap is, and he is abused enough to be at least a little unhinged in his noggins.

Warning: dead dove do not eat. Im going to entertain an idea where Yehonatan is definitely not a good person. If you have a problem with that, or have issue reading fictional underage abuse and emotional manipulation, please stop reading. Finally, nothing about this is meant to be serious interpretation of the original text, it's all plain headcanoning for fanfiction.

(For the record, i seriously do not consider David (even close to being) a morally good individual in any possible sense of the word. It doesn't make any of this ok tho)

Some fanfics i've seen paint the davinatan ship as a manipulative one, with david being the seducter that manipulates Yehonatan into simping for him, only to discard him after David achieved his goals. Even outside of fanfictions, i know of people who view Yehonatan as a tragic victim. While i appreciate David's more malicious side being acknowledged, and agree with it more than depicting them simply and benignly loving eachother(tho i appreciate that too), I can't help but think how both protrayal down plays just how utterly creepy yehonatan's part in the relationship is.

Like, Yehonatan, a middle aged man with wives and kids, went ahead and basically stripped in front of a teen the first night they met then gave him some really personal and valuable gifts. If thats not a red flag i don't know what is.

Yehonatan is someone you do not want to cross, maybe even more so than Saul.

It is easy to forget that, holding the title of eldest son and legal heir to the throne comes with immense pressure, responsibility and danger, and dealing with all that takes more than just a thick backbone. With a deranged father as king, people around him are constantly plotting to take the throne for themselves. All bets are off in the war for the throne, even if Yehonatan doesn't actually want to be king, his competitors (which includes but not limited to his entire family) wouldn't rest until he is dead. He isn't in a position where he can just back off: it isn't unheard of that princes and kings renounce their positions, retire, and end up getting assassinated or executed anyway. Because king or not, they are still legitimate heirs to the throne and therefore a potential threat.

Basically, Yehonatan lives in a situation where he simply cannot afford to show weakness or hesitation, not to his subordinates, not to his brothers, not to his father, not to anyone. What doesn't kill you makes you dangerous, and Yehonatan is deadly in that sense.

(But its not to say all that didn't take a toll on his mental wellbeing. Yehonatan has no business being mentally ok. He watched his father ascend to the throne, watched as Saul sunk further towards insanity, and had to endure his often psychotic abuse for years. I don't believe one bit that he isn't depressed and at least a little messed up, especially in a time where mental illnesses aren't even acknowledged yet.)

To sum it up, as a weathered crown prince, Yehonatan would logically be a person who is reasonably paranoid, moderately ruthless, extremely strong willed and more than competently intuitive about the motives and intentions of people around him.

David on the other hand (at the start of their relationship anyway) had no prior experience mingling with politics, no ties in the palace, was never regarded with importance by his father or brothers (meaning he had zero exposure and no one ever invested in him), young and inexperienced (meaning vulnerable to manipulation), stands no chance against Yehonatan if he were to play mind games on him.

David could pull an Esther on Yehonatan. But keep in mind Esther and a lot of other femme fatal spies in history had ties that helped pull strings from the outside, they are often not the master mind either. David had himself, and practically nothing else.

This is why Yehonatan helping him matters so much. Useing weak willed and easily manipulated individuals only works for you if you are already a powerful dictator. If you have absolutely nothing you need powerful allys.

The most straightforward option for dark Yehonatan is just to kick the creep element up ten notchs. David tries to seduce Yehonatan, then immediately realises he bit off more than he could chew: he is just too possessive to be controlled. Yehonatan in this scenario probably somewhat resembles that purple creep from Tokyo ghoul, entertaining while the shock value lasts, but after that it gets pretty shallow. I hate this approach tbh.

Or, him seeing David that day was Yehonatan's last straw(what i doodled basically). He stops giving a sh*t about everything, and thought since he is so "in love" he might as well groom and sodomize David. Its a petty way of getting back at God for making him fall for the boy, and for making his life miserable in general.

He uses his charms and presents himself as a saintly figure to appeal to David's more religious side, then proceeds to not only make sure that David is emotionally dependent on him(i won't elaborate how but its easier than you think), but also plans to make it so that if he dies it will f*ck David in the head. He enjoys this, because for once in his life he feels a "real" sense of control, albeit a twisted and perverted one.

(Maybe he will feel shame and regret eventually, but thats another talk for another day.)

I'll borrow my friend's comment to sum up the take: "a broken abused individual perpetuating a cycle of abuse to an ambitions sociopathic twink, each making the other worse just through being together." Another reason i prefer this version of dark Yehonatan is cuz it restores some agency Yehonatan desperate lacks.

Strayed quite far from his canon image with my shameless slandering but yeah that's about it. For now. Might explore David's pov in this later.

#id like to think that though Yehonatan believes god compelled him to fall for david #god actually didn't have any part in it #he just can't comprehend he would fall in love with that menace #Which makes it all the more messed up and tragic #yehonatan #jonathan #king david #the old testament #the book of samuel #book of samuel #yeah I'm cynical about people in power how can you tell #דוינתן #david and jonathan #abuse #chaotic evil #or maybe its neutral evil idk the difference anymore #hurt david #unrequited hate...?

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beecarmine · 3 months ago

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Findings from reading Gerald’s journal (spoilers!)

• The journal was supplied to Abraham via an “Archival and Requisition Department,” and was signed “-T”

• Gerald had two sons: one was interested in robotics, the other in archaeology

• Project ARK had other funding outside of the United Federation

• Experiments were being conducted on a chaos emerald on the ARK, which was simply “acquired” at some point

• There is a direct reference to Ifrit from Sonic Rivals 2

• Emerl was found “in a warehouse” by Gerald’s archeologist son.

• Emerl may very well have eradicated The Fourth Great Civilization

• Maria was diagnosed with her illness later in life and was, presumably, not born with it

• Maria was moved from Earth to the ARK with the begrudging/unsure consent of her parents

• Maria is officially referred to as being the “adoptive daughter” of everyone aboard the ARK

• Maria had to use mobility aids

• Abraham Tower was the result of an accidental pregnancy

• Gerald refers to the pursuit of immortality (as requested by the president) as being “as intangible as a shadow,” and that he can use that pursuit to “chase [the] shadow” of finding a cure for Maria’s illness

• The Chaos-inspired robots were Gerald’s first answer to GUN’s demand for weapons, though their original intention was for search and rescue

• Chaos Drives were invented as a way to infuse Chaos Emerald energy into living tissue safely, as direct contact with the Chaos Emerald proved too dangerous

• Lizards (salamanders) were chosen as the first test subjects of the newly invented Chaos Drives for their regenerative properties and “manageable size.”

• Early Chaos Drives were also given to GUN’s mechs to power them

• Gerald felt incredibly guilty about the biolizard, and tried to keep it as comfortable as possible knowing that it was in tremendous pain

• Gerald may or may not have lied to Maria about what happened to the salamander

• Gerald was fiercely protective of Maria and had no tolerance for anyone who doubted the validity of her illness

• Gerald equates his agreement with Doom as being a deal with the devil

• Somehow, the development of a “small, sturdy biped” (hedgehog) was born out of necessity, and not to imitate other bipedal hedgehogs

• “Project Shadow” was named by Gerald with “scorn and mockery,” but it took Maria to help him realize that “A shadow tells you which way to go to find the light.”

• Gerald wanted Shadow to be “A champion of life and hope”

• “Gizoid” means “everything”

• The Gizoid (Emerl) establishes an unbreakable, protective link with whoever can exhibit the most power

• Gerald established a “link” with Emerl by firing multiple model guns in front of him

• The stress Gerald was under is reflected in his journal entries becoming more rushed and erratic

• Emerl was handed over to the government when they threatened to shut down Project Shadow

• Gerald created the Eclipse Cannon in response to Emerl not being “flashy” enough, and deliberately made it so that it would be impossible to use on a single enemy without destroying the world

• The Eclipse Cannon was meant for Shadow to deal with the Black Arms; as in, “This is Shadow’s cannon. My gift to him in a battle he never asked for.

I’m so sorry.”

• Maria helped design Shadow’s accessories to help ease the strain of the chaos power in him (specifically his shoes and rings)

• Gerald’s sons started to drift apart, divided in their relationship with their father

• Shadow and Maria’s relationship rekindled some hope in Gerald and what he was working towards

• Maria’s parents had another daughter, and Gerald felt it was a sort of “replacement” for her. No indicator to how Maria may have felt

• Emerl rampaged the ARK after having a new link established and learning enough to become “A god of wrath,” as described in ancient stone tablets

• Emerl’s rampage turned the Artificial Chaos to behave erratically and dangerously

• Both Shadow and Emerl are “equipped with heart”

• Gerald became so distraught from Maria’s death that he completely lost all sense of self

• Gerald left “everything” to Shadow

• In the last paragraph, Gerald seems to refer to Shadow using “it” and “he” interchangeably, but it’s a bit unclear if he’s referring to Shadow exclusively

• The journal has an Eggman sticker on the back, marking it as “Property of the Eggman Empire”

#sonic x shadow generations #shadow generations #spoilers #sonic x shadow spoilers #shadow the hedeghog #maria robotnik #gerald robotnik #sxsh spoilers #sxsh generations

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afsalovescats · 10 months ago

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THIS TOOK SO LONGGG IM SORRY U GUYS BUT I KINDA LIKE THIS SHOULD I MAKE A PT 2??? <333 YOU GUYS PLS READ THIS I THINK THIS MIGHT BE MY BEST WORKSSS!! also thing is i had dazai in mind for this but then i thought that it might be ooc so the character can be anyone!!

warnings : murder, stalking, suggestive writing, two psychos in love <33 (i do not condone these actions outside of fanfiction)

word count : 3.291K

(credit to @tookio for the dividers throughout the story!! lace one!! )

In the dimly lit streets of the city, where shadows, secrets, whispers and crime had all intertwined. You would have never ever even thought about the fact that you would have met him. Handsome was an understandment, but beneath all that charisma lies a man that you had met that fateful night.

You had simply seen him...everywhere. he was quiet the talk. his name was well-known. but by each passing day the paranoia increased. you had seen his smile, it was so perfect. god even you had a slight crush on the man, who wouldn't?

just like everyone else you had fantasies too, i mean his skin was so smooth...it'd be a perfect addition to you're collection. Out of everyone you had seen he simply had this charm you've never even noticed in others. why not indulge yourself in these weird fantasies? i mean sure you wouldn't be acting them out, so what harm right!

As a detective it was normal for you to get off work late, helping others and solving crimes. The pay was quite good in honesty, that's the only reason you sticked around.

nothing really interested you when you think about it, from a young age everything was all, blank. You really couldn't give a shit about anyone. You were only doing your job.

So when you stumbled across him as you entered the alley and heard the sound of something gushing, was that the sound of... stabbing? You never had thought you would've found him. murdering the man who had asked for your hand, you wouldn't blame him. he was an nuisance.

in the dim lights the eye contact between you two was tense, until you had sighed and raised an eyebrow as the words stumbled out.

"you seem like a busy man tonight, sir." you say unbothered at the sight as you continue observing him, he was wet with blood, obviously, you note. the smell was unbearable, so was the sight...he really did a number on him.

his eyes twinkle with amusement, a devilish smirk playing upon his lips. "Indeed, I am. But fear not, dear detective, I hold no ill intentions toward you." His voice was smooth as he reassured you.

you simply stare at him confused as you decide to do what's best, "That's...fine by me, sir. Have a good night dear stranger." you brush off as you wave goodbye to him and continue your merry way back home.

you weren't bothered...? oh how happy he was! with a grin spread across his face reaching his ears he watched you turn the other way and walk away. thank god! He had his eyes on you for sososo long!! You never knew how much he had wanted to possess you, to claim her as his own, even if it meant succumbing to the darkest corners of his soul! You saw him murder...yet you didn't even react? you could have done anything! gone to the police- ran away- or even decide to do something since you yourself were a detective! but no! you didn't! this means something right? you kept his secret! he knows you will! who else would you tell? this is perfect...that means you agree to be his! i mean c'mon- you didn't even care! he confirms your the one- only one!!! such a Fateful night, gosh!!

your figure gets smaller and smaller as he watched you with a giddy attitude, forgetting all about the body just by his foot...he had wanted to court you...he couldn't have that could he? he did this for you! and you didn't even care much about him! your the perfect one!!!

he always had a yearning to understand his soulmate...who dares to walk the same path as him yet stands on opposite sides of the moral divider. now? he's gotten his answer

As the days passed, the memory of him lingered in your thoughts, a persistent thorn in his otherwise impenetrable psyche. Intrigued by his motives and everything, you had found yourself drawn to his presence, craving the thrill of her company...this was bad.

One night you had no idea how it had happened. some bitch had been getting on your nerves. next second you find yourself in the same alleyway you and that man had met, as you continue stabbing the woman, her face was disformed, her organs were showing as the blood spurted out, god...it felt so right. The greed taking over as you took advantage of her drunk-like state. If her face wasn't disformed from the amount of struggle she put in, maybe you would have used her skin to experiment.

you now see why killing was such a thrill, simply from hearing it from others at your work, to looking for clues, even going to crime scenes and asking witnesses, to reading such books at night before bed, and witnessing that man do a gruesome sin so casually?? you had given up. all the pent up amount of anger and frustration showing up as you showed no mercy to the woman under you and you continue making the same motion.

up, down, squelch, up. up, squelch, down, up. up, squelch, down, actions that were considered psychotic and you were against all going down the drain- you were a detective goddammit! why was this happening?? god you just-

you stop all actions as your moments falter at the sound of footsteps. turning your head to the direction you found him, standing there with a smirk.

you chuckle and soften your eyes as you say "dear stranger, we meet again." you say as you observe him, this time it was you who was covered in blood, him a witness to your deepest desires.

he had always questioned whether his feelings towards you were love or obsession....whether you'd get to live or die was depended on what he had thought of you. yet, seeing you in this light made him question his own motives.

"Once again, fate brings us together," he murmured, his voice cold yet amused. "I see our paths are destined to cross repeatedly." From the corner of his eye, he noticed your hand gripping the weapon tightly, a mask of determination etched onto her face. "What brings you here, my dear detective?" He asked, curiosity mingled with a slight bit of excitement.

"ah business, my dear stranger." you commented as you eye him up and down, you didn't really know if it was in attraction or disgust really, everything was too foggy in your brain.

rights confused with wrongs, left and rights, north and south, west and east, god it was such a ecstatic feeling!

a faint smirk graced his lips as he studied his dear, the veneer of his composure never faltering. "Business, you say?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow. "And what kind of 'business' requires the taking of a life?" His gaze shifted to the dead woman on the ground.

you were like him!!! he was so happy!! imagine the dates you could have since you and him were alike!! he wonders if you'll kill for him too as he has for you, his dear spouse!!!

"The usual, now we've both caught each other doing this act of....sin haven't we?" you say warning reminding him oh his own crimes as you cautiously look at him for any reactions as you clutch your knife suspicious at his motive.

The gleam in his eyes intensified, acknowledging the truth in your statement. He let out a soft chuckle, a sinister sound that echoed through the alleyway. "so it seems we share a common bond, after all. you and I, the hunter's. It is a curious coincidence, indeed." Pausing briefly, he continued, "But our roles do not define us, my dear detective. Shall we exchange confessions, or shall we continue our separate journeys?" he asked with a smirk.

god you don't get it!! he's so nervous! he's itching to hold you! please say yes! he'll actually die and drag you with him if you say no!!

after a few moments of silence you break it with a simple, "Shall we have dinner at mine?" you ask as you tilt my head in curiosity of his response.

he raised an eyebrow at the unexpected invitation, but there was no denying the allure of its audacity. There was something about you that piqued his interest, a challenge he couldn't resist. "An intriguing proposition, detective," he replied, his voice smooth as silk. "I accept, under one condition. We shall share our darkest secrets over dinner, and I believe that you have tales worth hearing." With slow steps he walked towards you.

you have no idea what you do to him, your so perfect...he cant believe he had forgotten the ring at home. he'll make it up though, perhaps a night together? Would you enjoy that?

he walks towards you not to startle you as you stay put and clutch the knife by your side, once he reaches you he gently takes the knife out of your hand and holds it by his side,a small gesture to make sure you wouldn't stab him or the woman anymore. Speaking of, he continues observes the woman below the two. he knows your not dumb enough to leave evidence due to your experience, so he leaves it at that.

you speak up continuing the eye contact as you admit, "I don't have much stories, i can assure you that. This is my other darkest secret. The art of killing is quite fascinating, no? The motives, blood, shrill, everything." you sigh out in relief.

Oh? Quite amusing, no?

as you spoke, he observed you closely, noting the dreamy quality in your voice. There was a certain thrill in her words, a shared understanding that surprised him. "The art of killing..." he mused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "It is indeed a fascinating dance, a deadly waltz between life and death. But it is not merely the violence that captivates me; it is the web of motivations that drive individuals to such extremes. Tell me, what fuels your passion for it?" He asked, genuinely interested in her answer. he himself personally knew that beneath the surface of any killer, layered a story untold.

"My story..? I apologize but i'm not that quite fascinating. i simply wanted to feel the thrill and joy, i suppose that's what makes us different. Now dear stranger, care to have dinner with me tonight?" you remind him of the pervious offer as you start to get slightly impatient at the questions.

he nodded, accepting the change in direction of the conversation. "Very well, detective. Your reasons for your actions may not be as elaborate as mine, but they are yours nonetheless." he paused for a moment, considering her proposal. "Yes, I accept your invitation. Tonight it is." A sly smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, the anticipation of their meeting building within him. "Perhaps over dinner, we will uncover more about each other's motivations and the shadows that shape us." he says that more as a promise as the gaze in his eyes are tender yet filled with a look that makes you shiver...surprisingly.

you offer a hand for him, taking the offered hand, he felt the cool body temperature compared to his warmth.

His eyes flickered with surprise, but he hid it well. "You leave no trace, do you?" he remarked, his tone neutral. "a wise precaution, one that I respect." Turning to face you, he wrapped his free arm around her shoulders, guiding her through the dimly lit alleyway. "Now, let us embark on this adventure you speak of. to uncover the shadows that shape us, we must first delve into the darkness that binds us."

his arm slides down her shoulder and instead their fingers entwined, the two walked side by side, an unlikely duo drawn together like magnets...

"your skin is so smooth, i'd gladly use it as a use for my future experiment, but for now i shall continue doing research." you note to him as you walk hand in hand to your apartment, a new unlikely bond forming.

he smiles as he stays quiet as he observes you take out your keys, unlock the said door to your apartment, and let him go in first, he does so as he steps in a couple of steps as he comments "Your home reflects your nature, detective. Cluttered yet organized, a testament to your duality."

you lock the door as you step in with him and guide him to the small table, oddly enough you had two chairs across from each other with a small round table in between.

he sits as you gesture for him to sit as his eyes simply watch you, never taking them off you or your figure...this is a dream come true for him, dear. you have no idea of all the nights he's thought about this, a fantasy now a reality.

you start by assuring him "I don't plan on having your head, rest assure my dear. I simply wish to enjoy the warmth of a dinner."

he gets even more ecstatic but doesn't let it show as his lips quirk into a small smile.

"Warmth, indeed. An appropriate word for the evening, don't you think?" he comments as he puts his cheek in his palm which is resting on the table as he tilts his head and continues smiling at you.

warmth, warmth?

in the small moments of chatting and such while you prepare dinner for two as he observes you continue talking about exchanged stories- tales of their past, their motivations, and the darkness that haunted them.

you set down the plates on his and your side as you sit in your chair and begin eating, silence overtakes the two as you continue enjoying the warmth of another person and the food which isn't as bad as the one's from the other days.

you start by saying "now when we first met, did you know the man you had killed my dear? He was planning on courting me the next day...but you had killed him" you say wiping your lips with a napkin to ensure you didn't look improper infront of your new guest.

his moments falter then he hides it with a smirk as his gaze locking onto you. "a twist of fate, then," he said quietly, setting down the fork for a moment to take a sip of the water. "Your intended suitor, replaced by an unexpected encounter with me. A interesting meeting that led us here, sharing a meal and confessions. Quite poetic, don't you think?" He resumed eating, his expression the same. "yet, I wonder, why did you not reciprocate his feelings towards you? Was there something about him that displeased you?"

he asked, curious about her feelings toward the man he had intentionally kiled yet he masks it up with curiosity wanting to know more about his dear,

"He simply...wouldn't approve of my ideals." you say as you shrug your shoulders as you put down your fork and admire the man across from you, the lighting right above the table highlighting his features, his eyes downwards as he focuses on eating, his face looking charming as ever, and him.

he meets your eyes as he then says "Ideals are a tricky thing, aren't they? They can either bring people together or tear them apart. And in this case, it seems like your ideals kept you from that fateful engagement." He pondered for a moment, then added, "Tell me more about these ideals, detective. What drives you to walk this dark path?" He wanted to understand you better, to unravel the threads that made you...you!!

As they continued their meal, the conversation flowed effortlessly, each revelation painting a clearer picture of his dear sitting across from him.

with questions unanswered from your side, you get up as you collect both your and his empty dishes as you walk to the sink and rinse the plates with water before putting soap on a sponge and getting to work.

he watched you move gracefully about the kitchen, a mix of admiration and amusement playing across his features. "You have a peculiar charm, detective. one cannot help but be drawn in by you." He mused, leaning back in his chair. "but I must ask, will you always be the hunter, or do you ever allow yourself to be hunted?" His question was gentle, yet persistent, encouraging you to reveal another factor about your life.

you decide to indulge in his charm as you answer "i can be anything you want, my dear," you say as you continue scrubbing the dishes not bothering to turn back and look at him as you continue your work.

his eyes never move off your figure as he starts by saying "perhaps...there is more to discover within each other than just our dark interests, dearest."

He stood up, crossing the room to stand behind her. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he whispered softly into her ear, "And what of your fantasies, detective? Do share them with me, and I promise to fulfill them." His breath tickled her neck, a gentle reminder of his presence. The tension in the air thickened, their connection growing stronger with each passing moment.

you simply cherish his warmth compared to your coldness as you hum a tone enjoying the temporary- no forever moments between you two.

after a short while you say "our night that day i suppose was a fateful night, no?" you say moving for a bit turning off the faucet and then setting the plates. Afterword's, drying your hands then meeting his body against yours as you put your arms around his neck with a playful smirk.

he returned her smile, his own smirk matching her playfulness. "Yes, indeed, a fateful night-" he agreed yet interrupting himself, leaning in instead to brush a soft kiss against her lips. the kiss was a small one, simply enjoying the softness against lips as you seal an invisible oath.

he continues on "-One that will echo through our dreams and shape our reality. Your hands are clean now, but I fear, my dear detective, I may never wash off the stains of our shared past." He pulled her close, as if that was even possible as he and you enjoy the tenderness as his hand cups your cheek.

"in what way my dear? we have such a bond...our fondness could increase more, it'd be a shame if it went to waste." you say as you nuzzle closer to his hand on your cheek.

" I am merely a shadow, a whisper in the wind that brings forth change," he then plants a soft kiss at the softness of your neck below you jaw as he continues, "but for you? my dear, call me whatever you wish for tonight, i am yours just as if you are mine."

Their embrace lingered, filled with unspoken promises and desires. The air between them crackled with anticipation, a silent agreement to explore the boundaries of themselves to the fullest for eternity.

"care to spend the night, dear?" you ask, a simple question yet very obvious intentions.

knowing the answer yet he considered your invitation, his eyes never leaving yours. "I accept, under one condition: You allow me to learn everything about you, and share with me your deepest secrets." He whispered, his tone low and seductive. "only then can we truly merge our shadows, becoming one in the dance of darkness." His fingers tightened subtly, pulling her closer still despite the closeness.

"Then afterwords...do we forget about everything we had tonight? Or maybe...are you thinking of something else dear?" You ask hopefully as you push a strand of his hair behind his ear.

"Such forgetfulness does have its merits, but it would be foolish to discard the memories we create. Instead, let's keep them locked away in our hearts, to be revisited only for us." He leaned in, brushing his lips with yours as he continues holding your cheek tenderly.

This was more than mere attraction; it was a bond born of shared darkness and mutual understanding. He knew that this encounter would leave an indelible mark on them both, and he welcomed it. Their passion grew, fueled by secrets and desires, until they succumbed to the pull of the night, surrendering to the whims of fate and their own twisted dreams.

OMG YOU GUYS THIS IS ACC NOT BAD??!!! WOW IM BACK U GUYSS <3333

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fr3sh-tragedies · 1 year ago

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Apologize

[Until Dawn] Samantha Giddings x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.04k

Proofread: Yes

Content Warnings: An argument, but nothing really specific

[A/N]: This one's really short compared to the others, but it's because that's what my intention was. I didn't want to stress out over this one, so I gave myself a really low goal of 2k words. It was fun to write this. Hope you'll enjoy. Not sure who I'll write for next. At the moment, I only have six more characters I want to write for.

Enjoy!

It was extremely hard for Sam to get angry at someone, let alone get into an actual argument. She tended to be the level-headed one in her friend group, never one to willingly indulge in drama. Very rarely did she raise her voice in a non-joking manner, so when she did, the people around her she was close to got very uncomfortable. Not necessarily because she was threatening, but because it was so unlike her. Fortunately, her girlfriend was the same way. The two of them hardly ever got into an argument that wasn’t playful.

So when one broke out one night, both of them grew uncomfortable. They got defensive, with Sam trying to steer the conversation in another direction, and [Y/N] trying to just agree to disagree. Neither one of them really remembered how the argument started, but they both knew it wasn’t going anywhere.

Another thing that was uncommon for the two women was for them to say something hateful toward anyone, even if they felt threatened. During the entirety of their relationship, which was running strong for over three years, no one in their shared friend group had ever witnessed them fight with each other. Out of all of them, she and [Y/N] were usually the ones who stayed calm and tried to compromise and keep the peace. And when anyone needed to talk something through with a trusted friend, she and [Y/N] were the go-tos.

Somewhere in the middle of the argument, one of them had slightly raised their voice, which in turn prompted the other to do the same. This continued until they were almost yelling at each other, something they had never done to one another. It was causing a great deal of stress on them both. They couldn’t seem to find a way to fix whatever had begun the whole ordeal.

As they grew louder, Sam shouted something of ill-intent toward [Y/N] in the heat of the moment, wanting to just be done with the argument. In response, [Y/N] threw back a similarly hateful retort, claiming she wished they had never started dating. She didn’t mean to say it–neither of them meant to say any of it–it all just spilled out before they could stop it.

Sam froze at her words, grimacing as she fought back the tears pricking her eyes. She sniffled and took a breath to prevent her voice from breaking.

“If that’s how you feel, then…”

She paused, trying to calm herself down and think things through. After a moment, she pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.

“I’ll give you some space. We both need to calm down before we even try to talk this through.”

[Y/N] huffed. Usually, she’d agree without hesitation. Because of her hurt feelings, however, she was hesitant to do so. Instead, she turned on her heel and stormed into the kitchen, then the pantry. There, she grabbed her car keys and left through the front door, passing Sam on her way out. She slammed the door behind her, and she instantly regretted doing so, but she couldn’t take it back. Not once in her relationship with Sam had an argument gotten this bad. The two of them had never said dating was a mistake, nor had they thrown nasty comments at each other out of frustration.

Sam didn’t know how to deal with the situation quite yet, and neither did [Y/N]. Silently, [Y/N] agreed with Sam about giving each other space before working things out.

She hopped into her car and switched the engine on, pulling out of the driveway and speeding down the road. Once she came to a red light, she popped a CD in and cranked the music up, wanting to drown out her hateful thoughts.

As she drove off to who knows where, Sam remained in the living room of their shared home. She plopped herself back down onto the sofa cushions and sighed, burying her face in her hands as she replayed the entire conversation over and over again in her mind. Each time she recalled the words she spoke, or rather hollered, she flinched, wanting nothing more than to take them back.

There was no excuse for what she said. She didn’t even really remember why things had gotten so aggressive.

As she sat there, counting the hours while she waited for [Y/N] to come home, her guilt began to grow even further. She promised herself she’d sit down and talk things out once they were together again.

Whenever that may be.

She should’ve stopped [Y/N] from leaving.

She should’ve asked her to sit down with her, or at least stay home.

She should’ve kept her cool and ended the argument before it began.

And all the while, as her guilt ate away at her conscience, [Y/N] was battling with her own mind nearly halfway across town.

How could she have said something so cruel? Sam didn’t deserve that at all. She had no right to be that crude towards her. She had been trying to change the subject, but [Y/N], for some reason she couldn’t figure out, refused to give in. Instead, she wanted to just “agree to disagree,” even though she knew that wouldn’t have ended very well. She and Sam were both very stubborn about their personal beliefs, meaning they’d struggle with that concept.

She knew that, and yet she continued to press on the matter.

She knew that, and yet she still blurted out that the relationship was a mistake.

She knew that, and yet she still stormed out of the house like a child.

With a heavy sigh of defeat, [Y/N] turned the car around and started her journey back to the house. One way or another, she’d find a way to work things out with Sam, even if it took all night.

By the time she made it back, it was well past midnight. Had she not known Sam well enough, she’d assume the blonde would be tucked away under the covers in their shared bed, sound asleep. However, she had known her all her life. She knew her thoughts, tendencies, insecurities, everything. And Sam was the same–they knew each other inside and out, which is what usually prevented these things from happening.

It was no surprise to [Y/N] when she unlocked the door and pushed it open to reveal Sam still sitting there on the couch. She glanced up from her spot on the cushions, a look of pure relief washing over her features. The blonde stood, stepping over to stand in front of [Y/N] once the door was shut and locked behind her. “Thank god you’re okay,” Sam whispered, lifting her hands to cup the smaller girl’s face and press their foreheads together. [Y/N] made no move to lean away from her touch, but rather leaned into her hands.

Her eyes shut softly when her head made contact with Sam’s, a small sigh of solace slipping past her lips. “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m sorry I worried you.” The blonde smiled and hummed, letting her hands slide down [Y/N]’s arms to gently take hold of her hands. “You don’t have to apologize. You’re okay, and that’s all that matters.”

They stayed there for a moment, standing together under the dim light above the entryway to the den. Finally, Sam led her over to the couch and sat her down, joining her immediately after.

“I’m just gonna get right to the point. I’m really sorry I said what I did. I had no right to talk about you like that. I’m sorry, I really am,” Sam started, squeezing her hands in her own.

“I forgive you. And I’m sorry too,” [Y/N] replied just as quietly. “The fact I said our relationship was a mistake was disgusting. I didn’t mean a word of what I said, I swear. I just…I was hurt, and panicking, and I just wanted to say something to defend myself in the moment. I shouldn’t have said that though.”

Sam grinned, her thumb caressing the back of [Y/N]’s hand soothingly before bringing it up to press a kiss to her knuckles. “I forgive you,” she mumbled against her skin. “Could we both promise not to do that again though? I think that’s the most stress I’ve ever felt in our entire relationship.” [Y/N] chuckled at her words, bringing another genuine smile to her lips. “Yeah, I’d love to make that promise. Nearly cried my whole way home because I felt so bad about what happened.”

With a featherlike touch, Sam pulled [Y/N] into a hug, tucking her face against the crook of her neck and relaxing at the familiar scent of the girl’s shampoo and perfume. Her eyes fluttered shut, a silent sigh slipping through her lips, still perked up in a smile.

“I love you so much,” she whispered.

“I love you too,” came [Y/N]’s reply.

A moment passed, one far more comfortable than the situation from a few hours prior, and the two held onto each other as they swayed side to side. Finally, much to her embarrassment, a low rumble sounded from [Y/N]’s stomach, drawing both of their attention away. Sam leaned back and laughed gently. “Should we order something?” She questioned, already reaching for her phone laying face down on the coffee table.

[Y/N] nodded, laughing along with her. “Yeah. I was too worried during the entire drive to worry about eating, so…I guess it’s better late than never, right?” Sam smirked and nodded. “Yeah, that’s true. I’m in the same boat anyway. What sounds good? Not sure what’s open, but I’m sure we can find something good.”

[Y/N] beamed up at her, already feeling the previously thick tension dissolving at a rapid pace.

Sam picked up her phone after [Y/N] mentioned a few possible choices, clicking onto Google and scrolling through the open restaurants to find something that would satisfy both of their appetites. Eventually, they settled on something fairly cheap nearby, ordering said meal and setting everything up while they waited.

While [Y/N] stayed downstairs to pick something to watch on the TV, as well as gathering nearby blankets, Sam headed upstairs to their spare closet and picked out a few of the fluffiest pillows and blankets she could find. She trailed back downstairs, and the two of them bundled up together underneath their small fort of comfort. They were able to watch a decent amount of what [Y/N] had chosen to play on the screen before their order arrived.

Reluctantly, Sam left the comfort of all of the plush covers and pillows, already missing the warmth of [Y/N] by the time she made it to the door to pay the driver and take the order. Once everything was settled with the deliverer, Sam sauntered back over to the couch. She handed [Y/N] her order, including her drink, then managed to wriggle her way back into her previous spot before diving into her own dish.

As the two downed their food and rinsed it down with their drinks, they leaned further and further against each other. By the time they finished their meal and put the plastic containers and cutlery aside, [Y/N] was resting on top of Sam, both of them still buried underneath layers of their collection of blankets. Her head ended up planting itself atop the blonde’s chest, allowing her to listen to her heartbeat with ease.

Soft, delicate fingers raked their way through [Y/N]’s locks before a small kiss was pressed to her head. She glanced up curiously, only to find Sam beaming back down at her with a look of pure admiration. Her smile was returned just as warmly.

A moment or so passed before [Y/N] turned her head back to face the screen again. Her eyes began to flutter shut as Sam continued to stroke her hair. She fought to keep herself awake, but finally gave in when Sam mumbled a soft, “I love you,” and pressed another kiss to her head, lulling her deeper into slumber with ease.

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geekgirles · 9 months ago

Text

Since all I ask for now is that Amalia gets to call the Osamodas out on their hypocrisy and betrayal, I think it's important to point out Armand never wanted Aurora to rule.

I say this in light of her father claiming she is the rightful heir to the throne when we all know she's actually not.

And I don't just mean her claim on the throne isn't legitimate because a) she's not even a Sadida, or b) she was Armand's Osamodas wife, not even his daughter, which would give her claim some credibility, but because it's clear to see she was never meant to truly be the Sadidas' queen, not even their regent.

I know this all sounds contradictory with the fact that, by virtue of marrying Armand, the Crown Prince, she eventually became his queen, but the thing is, it's plain to see not even Armand wanted her to rule the kingdom on her own, which is what her family is trying to accomplish—although there's also a very high chance they intend to rule through her, rather than let her make her own decisions.

As @vinillain and I have discussed through reblogs, it seems to be implied Aurora was never really meant to rule: not only wasn't she a candidate for becoming her own people's queen, but it is clear to see she was only meant to be given an important position in court but with none of the responsibilities expected from such duty.

This can be seen in her role in seasons 3 and 4; despite being Armand's wife and loving him, she never really acted like a true queen. In season 3 she acted conniving and pretended to have Amalia and the kingdom's best interests in mind when, deep down, all she cared about was strengthening her and her family's power over Sadida politics. And in season 4 she remained passive, aloof, and emotionless throughout. At no point was she shown to feel genuine concern for her husband's people even in the face of an imminent threat.

The most active role she's taken ever since she debuted was playing matchmaker for an unwilling Amalia and trying to find more about the Eliaculus.

From what we've seen so far it's easy to conclude she was always meant to be Armand's consort, but never his actual partner. She was essentially sent to the Sadidas to act as their king's arm candy. Whatever power gap was between them, she never made any efforts to breach it and show her worth.

For all she and her family look down on Amalia, Aurora herself never matured enough to become a suitable ruler, whereas Amalia eventually grew into her mother's mantle; even when his father was still alive, she had already become Queen of the Sadidas.

And I think despite his love for her, Armand knew this. He knew she could never rule the kingdom without him; knew she never should rule his kingdom without him.

Despite his many flaws and not-so-stellar moments, Armand was raised to be king. He was never stupid. He knew the inner workings of politics in and out and how to navigate them.

This is apparent in his interactions with the Osamodas King.

While he maintained a cool head throughout, it was clear to see Armand saw right through his father-in-law's ill-veiled condescension towards his people and his desire to control his kingdom. Which is why I wouldn't be surprised if he had never truly trusted Aurora despite coming to love her.

Because of everything his people had gone through, Armand was perfectly aware his kingdom was practically of no importance to the other races, for they never sent their support when they needed it most. So it wouldn't be far-fetched to assume Armand knew all along the Osamodas' intentions behind marrying him to Aurora went beyond simply providing him with a queen.

Which is why I believe he never intended to let Aurora become regent if he was no longer around.

But my greatest evidence are his last words to Amalia as he was about to sacrifice himself and he put her to safety. I don't have the screenshots for it (so I'd appreciate if anyone could provide them), but he essentially told Amalia she would be their next queen.

That's it. That's all he said. He never said, "Please, help Aurora out", or "You two are co-rulers now", or even "You have my permission to fuck Yugo senseless". He told his sister it was up to her to rule their people, not his wife.

Meaning, between her being the last remaining Sheran Sharm, the second in line when her brother was still alive, and Armand's words, Amalia is the kingdom's rightful ruler, not Aurora. It was never Aurora.

#wakfu #wakfu season 4 #wakfu webtoon #wakfu spoilers #wakfu analysis #wakfu the great wave #wakfu la grande vague #armand sheran sharm #amalia sheran sharm #yugo the eliatrope #aurora

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nightghoul381 · 2 months ago

Text

Ellis Twilight ~ Main Route Chapter 17

Disclaimer for route warnings | Masterlist

Additional Content Warnings: None

This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Villains. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories!

Part 1

Ellis’ father—Matthew, accepted our intrusive question.

He encouraged us to take a seat in the pews.

Calm and intelligence could be felt in his gaze and every move.

At the same time, the deep wrinkles on his sad face were particularly striking.

Matthew: “…It’s been a while since anyone’s come to me to talk about those kids.”

Matthew: “At the time, the police and people around town would ask me about this and that.”

His voice was quiet, as if the rising emotion had already caused it to disappear.

Matthew: “So, could you tell me why you’re here?”

Roger: “…We know your son. The one who is alive.”

Matthew: “…I see, that’s how it is.”

Matthew: “The boy… Is he doing well?”

For the first time, Matthew’s voice had something that be called emotion, and the moment I heard it, my heart was also filled with emotion.

Just by saying that it became clear, Ellis and Matthew,

Neither even knew if the other was alive or dead.

Kate: “Ellis is doing well. He’s in London now.”

Matthew: “I see…Haha, that’s a bit ironic.”

Matthew: “I couldn’t even search for him, but I’m relieved to find out he’s safe.”

His smiling face was filled with love for Ellis.

(I came here to ask about Ellis.)

(I’m glad I was able to tell Matthew about Ellis…)

As Matthew took a deep breath to calm himself down,

Roger leaned forward.

Roger: “We came here to find out about the incident.”

Roger: “He’s suffering from something like a disease that I’ve been researching for years.”

Matthew: “He’s…sick?”

Roger: “I also suffer from the same disease. And there are other who suffer from the disease.”

Roger: “We commit sins as if it were predetermined.”

(…can he really share that much?)

Part 2

Roger: “I also suffer from the same disease. And there are other who suffer from the disease.”

Roger: “We commit sins as if it were predetermined.”

(…can he really share that much?)

I was shocked when Roger got right to the heart of the matter.

But his profile was so serious… he stopped speaking.

(Roger isn’t here as a member of “Crown”)

I could see his determination to get the information, even if it meant pushing the very edge of leaking confidential information.

(Roger’s motivation is researching ‘cursed’ people.)

(Not Crown, or loyalty to Her Majesty the Queen.)

(Maybe it comes from a more fundamental part of Roger.)

Thinking like that, I let my eyes slide toward Matthew.

Matthew: “…sin…”

Was this Roger’s intention?—His expression changed when he heard the word ‘sin’.

Roger: “I read in the newspaper… The boy who disappeared from this village 12 years ago, that was Ellis wasn’t it?”

Matthew: “…Yeah.”

Roger: “When he left here… was it because he committed some crime?”

After a long silence, like he was diving into the depths of a memory and prying open a rusty lock…

Matthew slowly opened his mouth.

Matthew: “What are you going to do about him if you know that?”

Roger: “I have no intention of doing any to Ellis himself. I’m just going to use it for the research of his illness.”

Matthew: “…And what about you, miss?”

Kate: “I…”

(I came here--)

Kate: “I hope to help Ellis find his own happiness.”

I didn’t say that to reassure Matthew.

No matter what, I couldn’t lie anymore—I wanted someone to hear my feelings.

Matthew: “…You like the boy, don’t you?”

There was no hesitation in the quiet question.

Kate: “—Yes.”

As I nodded, Matthew’s eyes relaxed for a moment as if he was dazzled.

Matthew: “…I’ve never told anyone the truth about that day.”

Matthew: “Not the police, not anyone.”

Matthew’s expression remained calm, but his hands were trembling as he prayed.

Matthew: “It’s my fault. That he left here.”

Roger: “…What do you mean?”

Matthew: “It was a sunny day.”

Matthew: “The boy came home with his brother’s body in a wheelchair—”

From a wound from 12 years ago, vivid red blood oozed.

--Pus and poison together.

Part 3

Ellis’ brother was apparently suffering from a mental illness due to his injury.

Ever day, Ellis tried to make his brother laugh from morning to night.

However--,

One day, Ellis took his brother out in the wheelchair that he had painstakingly made.

When the sun had completely set and Ellis’ brother returned home…

He was passed away in the wheelchair with his hands folded over his chest, as if he were to be placed in a coffin.

--The cause of death was a single stab to the chest with a fruit knife.

Matthew: “When I asked him if he’d killed him… Ellis laughed and nodded.”

Kate: “…”

(Laughed--)

Matthew: “I… I was so upset—I said that he who kills people and laughs is the devil.”

Matthew: “I demanded that the boy confess his crime without even listening to him.”

Matthew: “I dragged him out of the house and brought him to this church.”

Matthew: “…He shook off my hand… and left us.”

Roger: “So, why did he kill him?”

Matthew shook his head helplessly.

Matthew: “…The boy disappeared before I could ask him anything, and that was it.”

The depths of my ears were ringing.

(His brother… He killed him.)

--Flashback—

Jude: “Well, he’s only killed one person in the past at the peak of happiness.”

--End Flashback—

(Maybe that one person—Was Ellis’ twin brother…)

Matthew: “As for what happened that evening…only he knows.”

Matthew covered his face with his hands.

Matthew: “That’s all I know.”

His strained voice brought my consciousness back to reality.

Kate: “…Thank you for speaking with us.”

We were truly grateful that, even though he’d only just met us, he shared his heart-wrenching memories with us.

Part 4

Kate: “…Thank you for speaking with us.”

We were truly grateful that, even though he’d only just met us, he shared his heart-wrenching memories with us.

Roger: “I have no intention of leaking this information to the police or newspapers. Don’t worry.”

Matthew: “…If I was worried about that, I wouldn’t be talking.”

A fleeting smile flickered on Matthew’s face, marked with deep sadness.

(I guess… His eyes really are like Ellis’)

The smile he gave as we parted ways brought an indescribable emotion to my heart—

When I stepped outside the church, the last of the sun’s light was being swallowed up by the horizon.

Fumes from the tip of a red cigarette floated in the darkened scenery.

Roger: “Are you sure you don’t want to know?”

Jude: “I don’t care ‘bout his past or his curse.”

Jude: “I can’t do anythin’ about that guy’s messed up brain.”

Jude: “So, didja get the information ya wanted princess, since ya wanted to know what’s goin’ on in his crazy head?”

***CHOICES***

Chapter 17:

1. I’ve got a clue

*2. I got a little closer +4 +4*

3. It's still to be determined.

****

Kate: “I think I’ve gotten a little closer.”

Jude: “Ya still couldn’t figure it out? Yer shockingly positive for somethin’ like that.”

Kate: “The most important thing is how Ellis feels… I’ll have to ask him directly.”

(I have to ask Ellis himself what he was thinking and feeling.)

(I don’t know if he’ll answer me.)

Jude: “What the hell? Was there any point in comin’ here?”

Roger: “I think there was.”

Part 5

Jude: “What the hell? Was there any point in comin’ here?”

Roger: “I think there was.”

Roger: “If she asks without knowing anything, she’ll probably be evaded like I was.”

Roger: “If you know the circumstances, it might be a different story, right?”

Ellis’ feelings and desires were secret.

I hoped that Ellis’ past that I’d just found out would be the key to opening the lid of that secret box…

I returned to London with the two men.

One night was not enough to travel there and back, so after several days of travel, we arrived back at Crown Castle.

(I’m getting nervous when I think about meeting him face to face…)

When I remembered the last time I’d said goodbye to Ellis, my chest tightened.

(Back then, didn’t he say ‘give me some time’?)

(It’s been a few days since then…)

(Will he say he’s not ready to meet with me yet?)

Liam: “Oh, Kate, welcome back!”

When I finally gathered the courage to open the dining room door, Liam and Harrison were having breakfast inside.

Looking at me sandwiched between Roger and Jude, Harrison frowned with pity.

Harrison: “Wow, you really went with that group…”

Roger: “Just so you know, I didn’t touch her.”

Roger: “I don’t want to be stabbed from behind later, so I’ll just say that now.”

As he said this, Roger’s hand was lightly stroking my head without any thought.

Liam: “Who’s going to stab you?”

Roger: “Well, either Ellis or Jude.”

Jude: “Why am I included there?”

Roger: “You’re an excellent body guard who missed company work time to be with us.”

Harrison: ‘Ah, that’s a surprise to me too.”

Roger: “With such capable subordinates, what if the cute little bird was in trouble?”

Roger: “Even a cold-hearted man like you would want to do something about it, right?”

Jude: “That’s disgusting. No way.”

Jude’s face contorted in disgust.

As for me… I was so busy looking for someone who wasn’t in the dining room that I couldn’t concentrate on what everyone was saying.

Kate: “Ellis… has he been down for breakfast already?”

Liam: “No, not yet.”

Liam: “Actually, Ellis has been going to work early in the morning and coming home late at night.”

Liam: “He hasn’t eaten much in the castle lately. I wonder if he’s eating properly outside?”

(Huh…)

Next Chapter

#ikemen villains #ikevil #ikemen villains translation #ikevil translation #ellis twilight #ikevil ellis #ikevil ellis twilight #ikemen villains ellis #ikemen villains ellis twilight #ellis twilight main route

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fayecreates · 23 days ago

Text

Out of Control

Premise: Vastaya! Fem Reader x Sevika (as per the people’s vote) heat. Yeah, thats about it. Also the readers a dog humanlike Vastaya.

A/N: there are not enough words in the dictionary to save my dignity, but thats okay, im cringe and free.

I refuse to have anyone beta read this, and i wrote this over the course of like a week. I dont proofread either so good luck.

Warnings: smut (obviously), humiliation, degradation, only frottage (if you can even call it that(i dont care)), puppygirl kink? (I hope y’all would get that from the premise) established relationship but its recent, uhhh yeah

Words: 2,218

Sevika was a nice girlfriend. She was protective, generous, and just overall nice even if she wasn’t open about it. What you two had was nice to say the least. Her giving acts of service to you with a grumble and her always upset resting face grew more and more endearing. It wasn’t like you needed her for everything, you were far from a helpless damsel needing a shining armor. Being a Vastaya in Zaun meant you had to help yourself because no one else would. You had grown up here, and made your way to a nice (nice for Zaun at least) paying job with a girlfriend who loved you dearly. What could be so bad about the life you pulled together?

Heat. Thats what would ruin it all.

The day of reckoning, as you’d call it, was similar to an actual dog’s heat. It was one of few things that distinguished you from a human. It only happened once a year, but because of the intense effects of it you questioned if you should rip out your uterus. The overwhelming arousal would consume every waking thought. You would barely sleep, eat, or do anything besides try to relive it. Leaving the house was dangerous, you were too susceptible to the ill intentions of creepy men.

Fortunately, you had the privilege of being able to just stay home for a week and tear stuff up from utter frustration. Unfortunately, you told your lovely girlfriend that you’d play cards with her at the Last Drop tonight. You felt horrible, not only just from the heat but also from the fact you had broken a promise. You felt a weighing feeling of guilt as you laid on your couch, sharp nails digging into the cushions. You had only worn a loose robe, just enough to cover yourself but not too much as to overheat.

You laid on that couch, hands covering your eyes as one leg escaped the fabric of your robe. You tried distracting yourself from all of the borderline disrespectful thought, but it was all for nothing. You thought of Sevika, her eyes and how they stared into your soul, her face, her lips, her arms, both flesh and metal, her chest, how muscular she was. Imagining how she’d kiss you, her tongue would brush against yours for what felt like hours, though it never went to any more. Your fluffy tail brushed against the fabric of the cushions, you wanted it all to be over. You thought of her fingers, how would they feel when they pressed against—

A loud knock came from the front door

Your ears perk up at the noise, it was only a few feet away from your head, impossible to ignore. You quickly sat up, a mixture of sweat and… other liquids dripped down your inner thigh. You attempted to compose yourself to the best of your ability, maybe if your acting was good enough you could act like you werent home, depending on who it was. With light footsteps towards the door, you looked out the peephole, seeing the tall woman you broke a promise with. Ideas raced through your head, how could you avoid her for up to 10 days? Act sick? Pretend you went on a trip? As your thoughts continued, another loud knock cause you to jump a small bit.

“Open up, i know you’re there.” Sevika’s voice boomed, she sounded mostly pissed but it was hinted with a softer tone that was reserved for you. Now torn again, you thought about more options. I mean how bad would it be if you did open up?

Hesitantly, you unlocked the door, opening it only a smidge. “…hi..” is all you managed to mumble out as you peaked through the crack. She glared down at you, honestly it just made your condition worse. You could see her, not just in your crude dreams now, all 100% of her. You could smell her, a mix of whiskey, burnt wood, and the faintest smell of sweat filled your nose. It was utterly intoxicating. “You really think you can just leave me for shits and giggles? If you didnt want to show up, say it.” She says with a look of disapproval, and as hard it is to admit, it sent a shock through your body. You thought a range of thoughts, ones that were born of pure degeneracy, to simply how you should respond. “Well?” She says, putting her hand on the side of the door, pushing it open a bit.

A moment passed as you attempted to compose yourself more. You decided to just come clean… mostly…

“Uh… i-i didnt mean to leave you… i have a little problem, and i couldnt talk until now…” you mutter, your ears pressed flat against your head showing your guilt. However, your fluffy wagging tail contrasted that. She pressed the door open just a bit further, the low warm lighting from your home illuminating her. You couldn’t help but stare, your eyes drifted towards her muscular arm. You always loved that part of her, thinking of all the things she could do just with one arm. “And that ‘little problem’ is…?” Sevika says with an almost disrespectful look down at you, she fully assumed you were just lying. “Uh… heat…” you mumbled reluctantly. It was deathly embarrassing, you wouldn’t ever be caught dead admitting that to anyone, let alone your girlfriend. Being a desperate little whore was far from easy to say. “You better come up with a better excuse than that.” She says with a sharp laugh, although you just looked up at her nervous and almost a bit scared. “Are you serious? You’re too hot to even tell me a simple sentence?” You vigorously shake your head. It was simple misunderstanding, but it would be twice as humiliating to explain that. “…like Vastaya heat,.. not temperature…” you mutter, your voice just a bit louder than the previous muttering. She looked down at you, her expression shifting slightly to be less upset, you could’ve sworn she even smirked a bit. Her hand pushed the door open even more, your eyes trailed down her body once more. Looking at her broad shoulder, her chest, her thigh, all of her was so perfect in your eyes.

“You could’ve just started with that. Now, let me in already, it’s cold out.” Sevika says, her tone more calm. You quickly stepped away from the door, allowing her to waltz right in. She towered over you, not just physically but also just in your demeanor. Your hands gripped at the hems of your robe, as an attempt to control yourself better. She looked around the living room, it wasn’t the first time she’d been in your house but you’d at least tidy up before she came there. Your old clothes were thrown around, various parts from your hobbies were barely started or just opened from when you tried to distract yourself, and the couch… the couch you recently just laid on as you had various carnal imagery flash through your head. Your slick dripped onto the cushions, just ruining them. You were embarrassed, you tried being proper and put together for Sevika. You tried to be good for her.

“So this is where you’d rather be.” She teased, her eyes lingering for a bit too long at the couch before they locked back on with yours. You didn’t know how to continue this, you didnt even know what she wanted from this encounter. You thought, just for a minute, that you could… maybe… ask her for a little help with your heat. It wouldn’t quench it, but it would relieve you for at least a few hours. Well that depending more on what you both did. “Um… Sevika, can i ask you a favor…?” You say quietly, looking up at her with a shy look. Your heart raced, you shifted your weight onto one of your legs. She nodded, crossing her arms over her chest, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow. “Can… uh… we have sex… or something…?” You ask, awkward as hell. It’s not like you’ve ever asked anyone else for sex, especially not when you are mid heat. Her eyes widen just slightly as she stared down as you.

“Say please.” Is all she said, furthering your embarrassment.

“…please…” you mumble, she was getting a kick out of just making your more and more embarrassed for something she saw as an everyday (or so) thing. Her smirk grew as she looked down at you. “Good girl.” She says, her voice low, almost a growl. She ruffled your hair just a bit. Your face flushed a deeper shade at the praise, it was all you ever wanted. Her hand fell down the top of your head to your cheek, tilting your head up as she looked down in your eyes. Those grey eyes stood out so beautifully from her deep dark circles beneath her eyes, burning into your soul. She leaning down just a bit, kissing you softly. Your ears perk up excitedly at the soft touch. Her fingers grip the base of your ear, pulling you towards the couch. She let go, sitting down with you in front of her, and you just followed like lost puppy. You move to sit beside her, a gentle yet firm hand on your hip stopping you. “Hold on.” She says, every second without any sort of stimulation felt like hell but you’d follow any order for a chance at it. “Kneel.” She says, her voice so loud in your ears from the utter silence you previously laid in for hours. You sat on your knees in between her spread legs, as she smiled down at you, a hand briefly cradling your cheek once more. Squeezing your thighs together, you waited as patiently as your body allowed. “Now, be a good girl and take that off for me.” She says using her boot to signal to your robe, not even lifting a finger. Your fingers fumbled but after a moment you slide off the robe, barely ashamed of your state at this point. Cold air hit your bare skin but all you did was lean forward more. “Since when have you been so obedient?” She asked rhetorically, either way you would’ve stared up at her a little dumbfounded and excited. She took her hand and gently held your cheek, caressing it with her thumb. It felt so gentle and sweet but underlying was just pure condescension.

“Puppy, tell me, what do you wanna do?” Sevika asked, her dark grey eyes felt like they could burn through you. The pet name alone made you throb just a bit harder, you couldn’t admit that though. Words felt like they were stuck in your throat, your hands rested on the cushion, just between her spread legs. “Can… i wanna cum,.. please…?” You beg, rolling your hips on nothing besides the air around you. Her hand migrated from your cheek to your chin, holding it firmly upwards.

“Then go on and fuck my leg if you’re so desperate.” She says, giving a firm pat the top of your head before leaning back on the couch. You looked up, mostly in disbelief. How could she be so cruel? But, in the same vein, you were desperate as she said. You hesitated, her judging eyes saw every small movement. She ever so slightly raised her eyebrows and nodded her head, as to signal to do something. You, reluctantly, sat so her leg was just inbetween yours. She moved her leg forward, pressing so her calf was flush with your core. It was like electric was sent through your body. The small touch made you whimper. You, after a second, put your hands around her leg, she had still kept her clothes on but that wouldn’t prevent your horniess. Slowly pushing your hips up and rolling them back down, you bit your lip as to not be too loud. Her gaze lingered on you, she seemed a little disinterested almost, not lifting a finger for you. Your fingers gripped her thigh, like she would leave if it were any lighter, your rutting was sloppy and born of just lust. You looked downwards as an attempt to avoid the shame, you could feel her eyes burning through your skull either way. Moans fell from your lips like it were as simple as breathing. It felt bad, physically it was amazing. Her hand reached up to your ears, gently scratching behind them. Feeling her touch only amplified everything. The pure arousal, her scent, her touch, the small hums that escaped her lips. It was euphoric. With each little thrust of your hips, you grew closer and closer, panting heavier and heavier.

“I-i… im gonna— im close…” you manage to sputter out despite your head being clouded by lust. “I know, puppy.” She says, still rubbing your head. With only a few more sloppy rolls of your hips, the tension you held washed away. Riding out your orgasm with rough, loud moans and pants. After a small minute, in which you had mostly just attempted to catch your breath, the same arousal flashed over you once more.

“…’Vika… i-i want more…” you said between heavy breaths.

#sevika x reader #arcane #league of lesbians #sevika #sevika arcane #sevika x you #sevika i love you #puppygirl #i am cringe and i am free

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huenation · 2 years ago

Text

first love never die / kkh

word count: 1,776

genre: angst, idol!txt, non-idol!mc

synopsis: it’s hard to navigate kai’s kindness and affection after he was the one who broke up with you for no reason

hyuka as your heartbreakingly sweet ex boyfriend who while he did end things still cares for you and loves you and is always there. he doesn’t have a mean bone in his body but you can’t help but feel like his kindness, his unchanging love wounds you. beyond the hemorrhaging of your heartbreak, there’s streams of guilt that run deeper with the way you put up a fight and a wall to kai. he keeps trying to be there for you — as a friend, but nothing of his actions since the break up speaks lesser of how he treated you before. you’re angry. you’re coldhearted. you’re on defense. you’re hurt.

and how could anyone be that way to someone who rivals the sun? these are the reasons you find yourself holed away in your room every night. turning down hangouts with the guys, leaving the group chat that you were in with everyone, practically ignoring kai, and in the few cases you speak it’s indifferently, moving away from him every time he even tries to be near you, leaving you to push yourself away in the dark. like how you are now, packing your things unceremoniously to leave, despite just arriving, now that you know kai is home. it’s humiliating, but you can’t turn back time, not when your silent disaster of a breakup now has involved the rest of them.

they do try and get you to stay as always. running away is cowardly. making a big deal out of nothing, or of what can’t be changed, is worse. however, they know you know this well enough.

“it hurts, you know?” the question startles kai, turning on his heel to see soobin at the kitchen table on his ipad, sporting his glasses, and tossing back a can of beer. kai turns back and huffs. he makes a show of how he feels with his crossed arms, pout, and deep sigh that extends to his shoulders. “what?” soobin confirms what he said with a nod. “it hurts for y/n. i mean, i know you mean well, hyuka. you always do, you always have. it just hurts that you still want to be the boyfriend and you aren’t.”

“tell me about it,” kai mutters under his breath, feeling the silence in response and drops another sigh at the weight of soobin’s gaze.

“no, tell y/n about it.” a badger of eyebrows towards the eldest emerges in response.

“well, i can’t.”

“then? it’s unfair for you to not give them space, and i know it’s virtually impossible for us to hang out with them without you since… this is our dorm and y/n’s our friend, but, i’m just saying, you broke up with them, they still don’t know why, and you’re still all over them. feels like you’re dangling a carrot in front of a bunny.”

kai drops his gaze to the floor at that. it takes a minute to settle, pondering now on his leader’s words. he likes to think he’s pretty sympathetic since he has no ill intentions, especially when it comes to you. he hadn’t thought of it that way. he just wanted to help.

but he knows things would only get worse if he did. if he did tell you why he ended things. if he explained why his agency emphasized that he can’t be dating anyone. when he had argued with the higher ups for the sake of keeping you in his life, stating that you and he were meant to be, they warned him that the only person who’d really get hurt is you, unfamiliar with the stark limelight that even he finds harmful as an idol. and he understood. he couldn’t. you always worked above and beyond to make time for him, even rearranging your schedule to align with the brief moments he had free time. he still wanted to be there for you.

but he knew it wasn’t right. so he backed off.

at least he tried to.

you had expected one of the guys to come over to just sit around and do nothing with at your house, opening the door without any hesitation at the knock. of course, your smile drops once you see who it is, eyes shimmering with hurt and anger, and you’re ready to shut the door but he slips his foot between it. you both just stare at his shoe sticking out, his little “ow” causing you to sigh and let him in. he’s so stubborn.

you walk back to your couch, arms crossed, as kai takes in your place. it’s been a month since the breakup. he hasn’t been here since then. nothing much has changed. the little plants at your sliding doors to your balcony lie by the bases of their pots, wilted and dead. a little mess here and there, but it’s still you. just having endured the brunt of getting dumped.

with an aloof and annoyed expression, you pick at your nails, lips pursed in a sour line.

“y/n?” he breathes out and you glance up at him, scowl forming.

“what?”

“have you eaten?”

the question makes you pause just for a second. he’s always cared about your eating and sleeping habits, checking in with you to remind you, taking care of you, and since you never let him a word in edgewise, it caught you off guard. you swallow a lump, rising to step away from him and rummage through your messes of trash and piles of clothes.

you’re not doing well.

“why does it matter to you?”

“because i care.”

you scoff, ruffling a garbage bag angrily, and you can feel him hovering over you from behind.

“here we go.” an eye roll.

“i do. i swear i do!” he presses and even if you hadn’t at all wanted to even talk to him or even look at him, you do all at once.

“then why did we break up?”

the question is finally in the air. your body language is tense, fists balled, expression tough even if he knows lunar eclipses in your eyes are more than soft by the brimming tears ready to take a leap. kai reads all of you, heart breaking, and after a moment, he sucks in a breath and slumps.

“that’s what i thought…” you scoff coldly through your teeth, sniffling and rubbing your wet cheek with your wrist. kai’s own vision blurs. his chest tightens and his throat burns. he hates this so much. instead of protecting you, all he’s done is break your heart and make you hate him.

“i wish i could tell you…” he lets out, voice breaking, and you lift your head at that. he never cries. a palm is stretched over his face, shoulders dropped in and lips trembling past the view of his limb.

“i think the more i talk to you, the more i try to ease the pain, all it does is hurt you and i’m sorry,” he sniffles hard, body scrunching up in an effort to hold in his cry. your eyes are waterfalls by now, even if there’s a mess of anger and sadness in you. kai drops his hand and with much hesitation looks up at you, blood shot eyes and shiny cheeks. you gasp.

“the truth is… my agency forbids us from dating and i know it’s stupid, b-believe me, i know, since you’re allowed to be friends with all of us still, it’s just that… you’re going to get hurt, like… it’s inevitable, y/n, and that’s not even the only thing i tried to fight — ” the breaths he draws in are so shaky and all you want to do is hold him, let him fold in your arms and let him cry, but with everything he’s saying, it only digs your feet further into the ground. your eyes are glazed over at the realization of it all. it didn’t matter how much work you’d put in, you’d always have to be a secret. and if the world discovered you, things would end horrifically not just for you two but for the boys, too.

“i already am the least popular member and you know how bad things can get and i can’t let you take the blow when things come crashing down. i just can’t. even if we try our case, let’s be honest, you’re going to be the one to suffer more and i wish i could do more, i wish i could have explained this to you, but that would have… it would have made me endings a lot harder than they would have to be. so i’m sorry, y/n…”

your grip on your shirt’s hem tightens, while the ones in your eyes loosens with the remnants of your tears. pain feels like gravity now, it’s weighing you down, and your chest feels so full, like you can’t breathe.

“i guess you’re right,” your voice is so broken and hoarse, kai looking up. the two of you stand far apart like strangers, lost looks in your eyes but they are reflections of your navigation of this heartbreak. he had to swallow such a large pill and keep it together for the two of you. how could anyone shoulder this and take the brunt for two?

it didn’t surprise you. your hyuka has not one bad cell in his body.

“i’m sorry, hyuka,” you palm your mouth, trying to shut the wails that are building in your throat down. “i’m sorry i was so cruel to you, i’m sorry i was so angry i didn’t care if it meant you got hurt, i’m sorry i didn’t know the truth…”

apologies flood from your tongue until it’s a jumble of consonants and vowels. kai takes another leap, walking from his spot and moving to you, coming to embrace you. that warmth, that sweet scent of his, the little nose whistles, all of him enveloped you in a hug you didn’t realize you were dying for for so long.

so as you broke down in his arms, knowing words coming from you and him, you felt your world coming down as you knew it. kai had been on this path by himself for about a month while you were taking your first turbulent steps. this isn’t a normal breakup, that much was clear, but one thing that was for certain, when the two of you eventually pulled away, eyes red and swollen, wet nose and cheeks rosy with grief, pupils so dark and broken, voices so tinny and hoarse, hand in hand so tightly, agreement to remain friends forever…

you and kai would always love each other.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　　　　　　 ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ ✦　　

ending note: pardon this silly little idea i had and the way i RUSHED the ending but i just wanted this out of my sight before it turned into a 10k serious thing hope u enjoyed hehehe

#i don’t even know what this is lol #txt angst #hyuka angst #hueningkai angst #hyuka x reader #hyuka imagines #hueningkai x reader #hueningkai imagines #txt imagines #txt x reader

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horizon-verizon · 5 months ago

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I think George dont realised what happen to season 2 was a butterfly effects from season 1 yet George still praising season 1, he actually did similar with his complain about Targ sigil, isnt he too late for that? That four legs was already there since season one (Harry Llyod costume), if George still enjoying season 1 and can separate them with his book why can't he do that with the following season they never intent to follow his story btw.

What GRRM was trying to say in the dragons post was what he continues and expounds on in his Maelor/Sophie's Choice post: if you mess with the most critical, moving parts of the plot, you're going to strip the story of its meaning AND empty yourself of logical lines towards future events. that's what anon's referring to.

Well, anon, in that dragons post, GRRM didn't give examples [that had the, in my opinion, very necessary and well warned spoiler] and didn't explain what he meant by "Fantasy needs to be grounded. It is not simply a license to do anything you like. Smaug and Toothless may both be dragons, but they should never be confused. Ignore canon, and the world you’ve created comes apart like tissue paper."

What's different now, anon, is exactly what he said in his post, anon: they are messing with VERY CRITICAL MOMENTS that have to do with the end of the war itself; they crossed a particular line in the telling of the story itself, something that should, at all costs, be retained in the show for the ending (Maelor). This isn't about costumes or anything that could be easily reshaped into a "close-enough" storyline, esp bc Jaehaera NEEDS to make it to the end of the Dance and no she cannot replace Maelor. No, she cannot become Aegon's heir; bc the greens were steadfast abt it having to be a boy, having the succession go through males, thus stick to their own guns/reason for going into the war in the first place and going towards their fall. And this part abt Jaehaera, again, is not even the thing GRRM was talking abt out the post.

It's like asking someone to be happy with someone making Nymeria have mostly men instead of women in her group of Rhoynar-rescued; like having the Mountain not kill Elia Martell and her kids, which leads to Oberyn going after the Mountain, which goes into the acceleration of the Dornish plot against the Lannisters going on right now. At least, this is the thing he notes. And he's entitled to expressing what he sees and observes are not-great changes to his story when he see/observes them. As we all are when we're looking at something created for us to watch/read; with him, the actual writer, he has even more "right" to.

In season 1, he also wasn't promised (seemingly) something would happen and then that thing then not happening, as what was the deal with Maelor and Ryan promising Maelor would exist.

the following season they never intent to follow his story btw.

This is conversation of the definition and parameters of "adaptation", but first, GRRM was basically giving us an extended....not metaphor but an extended parallel of what he [the guy who wrote this story for anyone to adapt or not] thinks are the most important elements of the story; and he chose dragon legs likely bc it was one of the most incentivizing amongst many fandoms, he takes great pride in his reasoning for those legs; he wishes to express to his/the show's fans an arm of care and relation towards changes eh doesn't think production or execs should or had to cut or distort BEFORE he he heard of HBO's plans to produce it and when he met with the producers/Condal about it.

Because--before that ill-fated post--from how GRRM writes abt HotD, even when he's positive, it gives off the impression that he's never in the actual writer's room despite how many fans argued that he was and had to have been as an exec producer (that must have been awkward for those fans upon seeing GRRM demonstrate how wrong that notion was). If he's not in the writer's room or has proper authority, all he can really do is sit back and watch the product...maybe a little earlier tha most, but still, he's not involved and he's reacting and thinking about the show.

Anyway, what, anon, do you think entails an adaptation "following" a story? How closely or far from the original plot would you say is "too far", when it finally becomes something that is not the actual story anymore but an invention by those who want to make a completely different story? And does this actually sound like an adaptation? Or a fanfic?

Definitions:

adaptation: a composition rewritten into a new form, or to fit a different medium; a screen adaptation of a novel fanfic: stories written about TV, film, or book characters by their fans (= people who admire them); stories formed from existing, usually published material with a plethora/array of possible interpretations of the source materials present themes, characterizations, etc./the purpose of creating fan material for the sake of personal enjoyment

HotD was always going to be more fanficy sorta thing bc it is a hotly debated section of a history book IN YERMS OF THR MIST INTIMATE OF RVENTS AND DETAILS BETWEEN CHARACTERS; however, like what historians and history books have always tried to do and continue to do so, F&B is container if actual firsthand records as eell as secind hand. There ARE more probable and likely options of situations the history book creates for us to....not "solve" but piece out when it comes to possible biases, and some claims by some narrators are very easy to mark as false.

And what you piece out will be very much a reflection of how you view certain behaviors, characters, ideas, AS WELL AS you actual knowledge of what inspires GRRM, why it does, why we care abt those things (I'm talking real history) what the lore of the world Rhaenyra and the rest are in. I'm talking laws, how some people view some of them and how they will twist them to their own emds. And most of all, as I already said, somethings without a doubt...precisely bc it i IS a history book, happened. And some of those need NEED to be on screen for the end to make any sort of sense the way it was intended to.

But I also think he's hopeful abt Ryan making some script changes from his very rare assertiveness.

I also think that this is all part of a reckoning with the different degrees people are willing to tolerate the "inventive" adaption that really changes the source material that many have not actually read or understood; some want the adaptation to match as close as possible to the orig (a lot of book readers), other don't care how far away the story gets from the org, others are in an undefined but just as variant "middle".

#asoiaf asks to me #grrm #hotd critical #hotd comment #definitions #hotd writing #asoiaf #hotd

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hellfireconfessions · 1 year ago

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Hey there, is Guri here. You may know me from years or unfortunately for all the drama before HF shutdown. All this situation is getting a lot put of hand for me, and I wanted to reach out here in order to explain what happened on my side ( if anything is worder incorrectly, please let me know, English is not my first language.)

Ok, so... About the doc. Some people may have read it already, and may not know what it means because the wording wasn't the better but I'll give some context. It was a story from a villain character POV on their abussive relationship with other character, both of the characters are from my creation. "Did the doc contained grooming?" No, both characters are adults. The villain character met the other character once when it was small and then didn't met each other after the other one was adult. "Did the doc had sexual content?" No, the "love bites" were a trait I gave to my characters subspecies, but since the character in question was a villain, the bites used to happen a lot more than usual. "Did the doc had zoophilia?" no, both characters are animals. "Did the doc had non-con/rape?" No, all the doc is basically the villain saying that they love biting the second character and that they love the taste of the blood. "What does the [ But she had a body I can't recall her to have] then?" the original concept of the character was a normal bipedal Utahraptor with some feathers, later was revamped to a quadrupedal more "cat-like" creature. That line meant that the character used to remember the other as s feathered normal Utahraptor, and now that they are adults, seeing her as a completely new creature with different features is weird. "What does [ swollen womb] means?" pregnancy, thought it would be another way to say it. The doc had a trigger warning on the very top and was censored entirely, to ensure the safety of sensitive readers. But many people ignored it.

I haven't groomed anyone, I'm not a pedophile, I'm not a zoophile. My characters does not define me, I'm sorry if anyone has felt uncomfortable with the doc. I truly thought that putting a warning and censoring it would be fine. The server in which was posted was a +17 server, which a few 16 years old members. No one has reached to me about the docs until noodles did on a report ticket, I got a final warning and got my pack rep removed and accepted the punishment. But aside from that, I haven't done anything. I would like to ask for the harassment and lies about me to stop, saying that im a pedophile, zoophile, that i promote incest, rape and other horrible things is not true, even I heard that some people were saying that they had proof of me grooming people and that there was a supposed victim. Of course, when you asked for the evidence, none was provided aside from the doc.

I been banned from server which I haven't played on, all for a doc that staff decided it was not banneable. Getting into my personal space and insulting my family is also not ok, while I won't blame the entire dentem et pluma pack even if the comments they made about me were horrible and I had never talked about them that way, one thing is insulting me as a player, other different is including my husband as Snail did. I make this announcement as an attempt for people to also see my side of things, that I am sorry for how everything took place and that even if horrible things were said towards me, I mean no ill intentions towards my aggressors that as long you didn't insulted my family. Guys, this is a dinosaur game, it's totally ok to not be friends with everyone but what is not ok is harassing, insulting and getting in the personal life of someone over a dino game. Stop the doxxing too, stop judging the private lives of members. If anyone would like to talk about what happened and have a fresh start/make amends. My DMs are always open.

normally i wouldnt approve but i dont know the exact details of what happened so ill let yall go at it

#guri

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witchersmistress · 2 years ago

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Stolen by the monster part 4

hello my darling creatures!!! i have brought part 4 to you, it is under construction much like my rainstorm and hate sex series so if it is mismatching, im on my way to mend it. but in the mean time enjoy this portion.

Warning: my usual for this style!

word count: 2K

as a reminder, i do not give permission to use my stories or work without asking. if you do ill haunt you for the rest of your days...

Walking back to my office, it wasn't my intention to go that far with you but I was on a timeline, one that I wasn't eager to miss. My plans to ruin Ethan Hunt were still the same but you being pregnant would just be icing on the cake. Imagine the look on his face when he learns that the daughter, he never met, was defined by the very monster he was meant to stop and you, being the sweet loving girl you are, would never get rid of that baby no matter what anyone told you.

My balls ached with the thought of you swollen with my child. There was a small voice in the back of my head that was telling me that it was wrong to use you this way but I didn't care about that when you said that I could use you anyway to get back at your father. I lost control which is something I normally don't do. Placing the sedative back into the safe I made my way to my bedroom, nothing out of its place, I walked into my ensuite bathroom, turning the shower on as the steam filled the room. I went about my nightly routine, as I crawled into bed with my little black book. Trying to read and i couldnt focus on anything, my thoughts drifted back to you, knocked out in your bed, your thighs slick with my cum, fuck, your moans bouncing around in my head. My cock was at half mast and I could barely stand it. With a frustrated sigh I closed the book. Giving up on trying. Yanking the blankets off my legs, I swung them and stood.

Moving through the hallowed hall towards your room. Pushing the door open, I found you in the center of the bed. That cat of yours on a pillow, its yellow eyes glaring at me, that stupid creature. I moved closer to your dresser, opening drawers to find some kind of sleepwear for you. I'd be far too tempted if I left you naked. I may be a monster but that's a line I will not cross. Finding a plain spaghetti strapped black nightgown, I pulled it over your head, pulled each arm into each strap and pulled it down your lush body, stopping at your hips. I saw the dry cum on your thighs, walking to your ensuite bathroom. I grabbed a washcloth and ran it under the warm water, adding a small amount of soap.

Walking back to your bed, I spread your thighs and cleaned up the mess I had left. I never regretted my actions of taking you from your home, and keeping you captive, even trying to force you to carry my child. I regret that I lost control. wiping the soft flesh of your lush thighs, you let out a soft moan.

Drying your thighs and grabbing you a pair of underwear and shimmied them up your hips, giving your ass a gentle squeeze, as i went to pull the night gown down i say the tell tale signs of bruises forming, fuck you bruise easily. You could see the outline of my hands forming on your hips. Pulling the duvet backup and

laying on the other side of you and pulling you closer to me. Pressing your back to my front, your warmth spreading across me, I feathered kisses across your shoulder blades as you snuggled close. “Your going to be the death of me little one” i made eye contact with that cat on your pillow, it was purring and was watching me. That damn creature. Ignoring it as we settled in. Tucking a long strand of your hair behind your ear, you rolled over and pressed your face into my chest and gave me a few kisses before settling back into a deep sleep. Suppressing a groan deep in my chest, laying on my back and pulling you with me. Goddamn you really will be my downfall.

Your POV

I felt unusually warm, and a heavy weight on my mid section. Cracking open an eye, I looked up to see Jess looking at me, “Hi sweet baby” reaching out a hand to pet her. She rolled over and showed me her belly. Someone shifted behind me, I rolled over carefully to come face to face with August. I jumped back a little. What in the actual fuck was that man doing in my bed. He still had an arm wrapped around me. I lazily drew a finger across his exposed pecks, tracing the scars he had, this particular one, I think was from the fuel burn from my father, in his attempt to stop August. he was built like that dude from the witcher. A grumble vibrated deep in his chest, “What are you looking at, little one?” while i fumbled with my words, he quickly shifted, and pulled me underneath him as he settled between my thighs. “Curiosity killed the cat you know.” he stated as he nipped at the soft flesh of my tender breasts. I gave him a small smile and tried to wiggle my way out from underneath him.

Hissing as he settled more of his weight on my lower half. My abdomen coils and throbs from the pain settling and his weight on me. Showing the displeasure and discomfort in my face, August cocked an eyebrow as he moved off me. I slid off the bed and tried to make my way to the ensuite bathroom. “Sweet girl what's wrong” his big hand encircled my wrist stopping me from going “August, i don't feel well” he looked me up and down before settling on my legs and his eyes grew wide. I looked down and saw the blood running down my leg. “Verdammt” I hissed, my body sometimes can just be a wicked bitch. He was up and out of bed before I could speak, he grabbed a dark towel from the bathroom and folded it before placing it back on the bed. “Sit” he said, it wasn't a suggestion.

Still at the door, he says, “A bath is waiting for you. Take your clothes off and I’ll be in shortly.” When he closes the door, I do as I’m told, skating my fingers along the wood as I make my way into the bathroom. In the center is a free-standing bath with shiny claw feet. Breathing in deep, I strip and step into the warm pool of water as steam drifts from the rippling surface and hangs in the surrounding air. Sinking down into its depths, the water rising to just over my breasts, I lean my head back on the lip and close my eyes. The warmth and buoyancy lessen the pain in my abdomen. I hum my enjoyment. Hazing through my mind are sparring emotions, wanting to both be in awe and love but also curl up in silence until I don’t feel so raw about everything that has transpired. “You’re a survivor,” I mutter to myself. It is not long before I hear the wooden door rattle on the hinges as it opens, and footsteps move in that graceful, measured way that only August Walker can pull off with a six-foot-one physique. “You do not have to do this,” I say, opening my eyes and sitting up to find him pulling a chair over to the bathtub. He is still in his dark pj bottoms, still shirtless revealing cords of veins, curves of muscles.

“I know, sweet girl.” He picks up a loofa and lathers it with soap scented like coconut before brushing it gently down my shoulders and chest. I shake my head in amusement, I can't quite figure this man out.. As he washes me, I can’t stop noticing how I used him as a scratching post and how he has more evidence of our steamy night than even me. I reach out and grab his forearm, inspecting the gashes that would have wept with blood. He holds still, letting me look. “You look like a feral cat attacked you.” “A sweet little wolf, actually,” he says, his voice deeper, more gravely, while afflicted with fatigue. I presume he hadn't slept long before i woke him

It’s an incredibly sexy sound; sleepy August Walker. Gruff. Husky. Yummy. “A stray wolf,” I mutter, releasing his forearm. His hand dips, breaching the warm surface, sinking to cup my abdomen.

Even as tiredness moves in waves through his irises, they are no less controlled, no less attentive. “Is that self-deprecating behavior going to return?” he says. “I thought we were making progress. Do you need a repeat of what happened a few days past” His hoarse tone, wrapped in sleepy huskiness, reaches deep inside me. I still think about the sting as he spanked me.I shook my body, sending waves of sensation to my already beating clit. Then I remember the way I felt in the wake of that moment. The subtle burn. A feeling of safety. Accountability. The way I trusted him that little bit more... “Do you think I need it, Sir?” He strokes my empty abdomen as though his tenderness can fix the hollowing of my womb. “Perhaps. Are you cramping?” “It feels better in the water.” He lowers his hands and massages my thighs, deep tissue pressure that loosens and comforts. He’s strong, dominant in the way he touches me, but in no way rough or overstimulating. My eyes bat close, and I melt beneath the meticulous hands of the most intense, dangerous, and beautiful man I have ever met.

While his hands slowly work around my entire body, he talks to me. “When I say you belong to me and that I will take care of you, this is what I mean. You are not a stray. You are owned. I warned you once to tell me to stop. I warned you what it meant to belong to me... True, I didn’t plan on keeping you then. I do now. There will be times when you hate me. For what I have to do. I am sure of it. That will change nothing between us. I want you to know that if you try to leave, I will hunt you down. I want you to find comfort in the fact that you have no choice. You are mine. Because ever since I laid eyes on you, sweet girl, that is the only place they have wanted to be.”

I look at him. Moaning as he palms my breasts gently, I feel my nipples pebbling against his palm. “You will hunt me down, Sir? Why would I want to leave?”

“I am a sinful man.”

“A dangerous man,”

I agree, pridefully, without a hint of care for the rest of the world. I swallow hard. “I wish I was a dangerous person.” A grin coasts across his lips. “My affections for you make you the most dangerous girl in the country,” he states seriously, and I exhale, a flitter of contentment moving into my chest, finding comfort in his darkness. It is potent, that flitter, spreading out like stems, curling into each cell. I remember my mother talking about reincarnation. About how we turn into a vibrant, uninhibited butterfly after this harsh existence as a weak, humble caterpillar. But I don’t want to wait until I am dead to experience my own reincarnation. I want it right now. In a cocoon of August Walker. I hope that in my second life, I am a monarch butterfly.

They are graceful.

Beautiful.

And poisonous.

#henry cavill #august walker imagines #august walker #august walker fanfic #august walker fanfiction #henry cavill characters #henry cavill x you #henrycavill smut #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill thirst

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peach-the-owl · 11 months ago

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First post of NPC month! Woooooo!!! Let’s hope I can keep the ball rolling 😅

Hunger

Avantica & Child!Reader

For anyone familiar with the Little Nightmares games, reader is somewhat similar to Six from the first game

Ability gained: +1 to Strength

Fire spread fast across the village, you paid little mind to the distant screams while you stare down the parasite that thought it a good idea to cross you… well more like former parasite, as the man’s corpse still stares at you with terror in its dulled eyes while you wiped the blood off your mouth. You weren’t the cause of the fire, as much as you would’ve liked to, no, someone else decided to cause havoc to the village and you were sure you’d take advantage of the opportunity. A shadow looms behind you, slowly you turn to face its owner, not a shred of fear present on your face.

“My my, well aren’t you just the savage little monster.” The woman smirks at you.

“I’m not a monster,” you state blankly, “I’m a kid.”

“No child I’ve ever seen can rip a mans throat out with their teeth so easily.” She points out before adding. “Nor has anyone ever been so calm in my presents. Do I not scare you?” You raise an eyebrow at this.

“Should I be?” You answer her question with your own. Her smirk only grows at this.

“I think you and I are going to get along real nicely…”

~~~~~~~~~~

You did what you do best below deck, pest control, chasing down any pests and reaching into the smaller nooks and crannies to get at them. It was easy work for you by now, having been stuck with Avantica for about a year and half now, going along with her delusions of power. You didn’t care much for the patron she worshiped, this Uk’otoa creature not really striking your interest despite her obsessive ramblings over it, sure you’ve been play along, but that doesn’t mean you had to like it. The cellar door opens and several sets of footsteps are heard making their way down, you hear Avantica’s voice amongst them and you knew what this meant, she wanted to make an example to whoever these, possibly newcomers were. You’re theory that they were newcomers was proven correct, you’ve never seen a group so colourful and odd before, but curious of them as you were you sat back and waited for your cue, perfect timing too as that familiar gnawing in your gut makes itself known.

“If I may be so kind to ask, why bring us down here?” The half-orc questions

“Some have come to me with… ill intent. I wish to show that I myself, as well as my crew are not people to be trifled with.” Avantica explains, giving you the small signal to make yourself known. You step forward, close enough so this group could see you but keep enough distance away from them to stay out of their reach. You stare them all down, taking in the shocked expressions, sizing each of them up. The blue one steps towards you, her first mistake.

“Oh my gosh, hi! Are you okay? Are you hurt?” She asks, looking at you concerned, she misjudges and underestimates you, her second mistake.

“I’m hungry…” You say blankly, noticing the goblin stepping closer as well.

“Here! It’s a bit crumbly, but I have this pastry you can eat.” She says cheerily reaching towards you, her third and biggest mistake.

“That won’t be good enough.” You say, tone never shifting away from being emotionless. “You’ll do just fine.” She barely processes what you said before you bite into her shoulder, she screams in shock and pain the others with her prying you off of her, but not before you rip off a decent piece of her flesh. The tiefling stumbles back, clutching at where you bit her, a look of horror on her face as you stare back at her while swallowing the fresh meat, wiping some blood away with your wrist. There’s a surge of energy that courses through you then out of you, you look yourself over for a second before looking beside you at the darkened and slightly unstable silhouette of yourself, guess with a lack of a deity this new ability couldn’t reach its fullest potential, not that you cared so long as it still does it’s job.

“What did I tell you,” Avantica laughs, “not to be trifled with.”

Ability gained: Invoke Duplicity

~~~~~~~~~~

Evening approached which meant you were free to roam the ship without the crew getting in the way, though with the gnawing coming back, this being the fastest it’s ever re-emerged, you wished at least one forgetful soul stuck around. But then again you had some new treats, and a new skill, to play with…

The ship creaked as it swayed with the waves, the eerie silence otherwise didn’t sit well with Beau as she sits up from her sleeping area and surveys the room. Something about the atmosphere felt off as she gets up, the floor boards creaking under her as she shifts and moves around. She carefully steps as quietly as possible to the door, poking her head out into the hall, where upon sensing no immediate danger she fully steps out of the room. The boat sways subtly against the waves almost like it’s trying to lull her back to sleep, the harsh creak of the floorboards pulling out of such a mindset. To her left the hall was dark and empty, to her right what little moonlight shone down the hall was partially blocked by a figure standing as still as a statue.

“Damn kid…” Beau mutters under her breath, wanting nothing to do with whatever they were doing. She stares at the silhouette feeling them stare back at her. “What do you want, you little freak.” She hisses through clenched teeth, that’s when you let your little illusion drop, the duplicate’s silhouette shattering into pieces as you approach.

“I’m not a freak,” you say, as monotonous as ever, “I’m worse.” You manage to step back and avoid the strike Beau throws, using the moment to grab her arm and bite into it. She shouts in pain, reeling her arm away from you and quickly clutching tightly to the wound, but you already got what you needed, feeling a surge of energy rush through you, jabbing it out at her sending her to her knees. You disappear into the darkness down the hall as the others from her group stir to investigate.

Ability gained: Stunning Strike

~~~~~~~~~~

“How lucky you are.” Avantica chuckles ominously. “You finally get to relieve your sea legs for a bit.” She was, of course, referring to your mission on Urukayxl. You knew the only reason she even wanted you there was to gain power for her advantage, at least that’s how she worded it. She was never one to tiptoe around her true intentions with you, your purpose, the reason she decided to keep you alive was solely to benefit herself, and you fully knew about it. On the other hand, you yourself had secret intentions you kept quiet about, just waiting patiently for the perfect moment, and if you were being honest, since the arrival of this Mighty Nein group you’ve felt that perfect moment drawing closer and closer.

“Can’t wait to get started.” You say as blandly as ever.

“Good. Now why don’t you go inform our new recruits we’ll be arriving soon.” You nod and turn to make your leave. “One more thing,” she quickly adds, “while you’re at it, if you could tell their ‘captain’ I’d like word with him.” Again, you nod in acknowledgement and leave her quarters to find said group…

“How exactly do we plan on dealing with that psycho child around?” Beau paces the room, unconsciously touching the scar you’d left her.

“With Avantica watching us like a hawk, can’t say there’s much we can do.” Fjord sighs, glancing over at Jester who, while was doing better, still shivered at the thought of their first encounter with you. “We’ll just need to tread carefully.”

“Who’s treading carefully?” You ask suddenly appearing behind him, causing the half-orc to jump away from you with a yelp of surprise. You look at him unfazed. “You’re not planning against the captain, are you?” You give a slight tilt to your head in minor curiosity.

“W-what? No! We were just saying how it’s best to tread carefully… around the crew. You know, s-so we don’t get in anyone’s way. Right guys?” They mumble rather unconvincing responses but you could honestly care less what they were doing.

“Captain says we’ll be arriving soon, and for captain Tusktooth to see her.” You deliver the message and leave before any of them have a chance to respond. You make your way down the hall when you hear someone approach from behind making you pause to turn towards them. “Can I h help you?” You stare down the goblin woman.

“I got my eye on you, kid. So you best watch your back if you try hurting anymore of my friends.” She threatens, you simply give her a hollow stare.

“Okay.” You start, a familiar gnawing beginning to form, it has been a few day since your last… episode. She turns to leave, her mistake. “Maybe you should be more concerned watching your own back.” She whips around at this but you’ve already disappeared from your original position, watching as the goblin panics while looking every which way. You felt the gnawing grow ever so slightly but held off on the urge, you’d have your chance soon. Urukayxl was going to be quite the interesting trip…

Haha! Cliffhanger! I’m so evil 😈 In all seriousness I will, eventually, get to making a part 2. Anyways, hope you still enjoyed, let me know what you think 😁

#critical role #critical role & reader #the mighty nein #mighty nein #mighty nein & reader #npc's & reader #avantica #avantica & reader #nothing romantic here #npc appreciation month

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