#to guard herself from further harm

[wormboyfriendcentralstation]

i love the contrast between ishmael and heathcliff's revenge plots because ishmael was willing to steer a boat into a whale of skyscraper proportions to tear that old lady limb from limb with her bare hands, whereas heathcliff was trying really hard to increase his credit score. ishmael is here not speaking of hubris. striking the sun if it insulted her. she is madness maddened. she is that wild madness only calm to comprehend herself. in the meantime, heathcliff has trodden on the bathtub mixed timeline moonshine landmine that cathy made in her basement

[lemonhemlock]

the reason why i don't think blood & cheese works without maelor is because it undermines the gravity of helaena's choice

in the books, as we all know, she has to choose which son to sacrifice. blood & cheese are going to kill one either way, so, whatever happens, if you want to get cynical about it, aegon will still be left with a male heir of his body. no, the horribleness of the choice lies not really in dynastic matters, but in basic humanity: which of your children are you willing to condemn to death? and helaena truly does try to make the best out of a bad situation, she picks not because she loves jaehaerys more, but because maelor is so tiny that she hopes he won't understand what's going to happen to him.

and she absolutely has to choose, because b&c threaten to rape her daughter if she doesn't. it's psychological torture. b&c just want to fuck her up in the head as much as possible and helaena tries her goddamnest to minimize the harm done to her family. to further compound on the tragedy, b&c kill the opposite child, so now she has to live out the rest of her days knowing that the son left alive is the son SHE herself marked for the axe. which is what understandably drives her to lose her mind

now, in the show, the "problem" blood & cheese have doesn't exist at all: that they can't supposedly tell the twins apart. but (as awful as it sounds, since it involves sexual assault) they could very easily check which child has male genitalia and be done with it. it's a "problem" that takes literal seconds to solve. they don't need helaena at all! it becomes irrelevant which child she points towards - b&c can always just check! she can't save jaehaerys in this situation no matter what she does, because b&c were never interested in jaehaera in the first place. in the books, she has the ability to save one child and this exact horrible "agency" bestowed on her torments her for the rest of her days. in the show, even had she pointed towards jaehaera, it would have been a narrative plot hole for the writers to have killed her without checking

likewise, in the books, she begs them to kill her instead, but, in the show, she offers them a necklace? you can't deny that the dramatic stakes are lowered substantially by making that change. which one of these options would have been more filled with pathos? personally, it just feels like this was phia's moment to shine and, while she did a good job with what she had, every narrative choice was somehow made to subdue this horrible event and left her only crumbs to work with. cinematically-speaking, this scene (as it was executed) does not even come close to the iconic moments that cemented GoT into the collective consciousness, which is very strange, as the subject matter is anything but mediocre

and that's not even getting into the rest of the plot holes that others have already pointed out, like:

- why are there no guards at helaena's door or anywhere else for that matter? not just on that hallway, but on many other hallways, she has to run quite a lot to get to alicent's chambers

- why is her room unlocked at the very least

- why is ALICENT's room unlocked, for that matter? she is having secret guilty sex with criston and she forgets to lock her door in a castle full of spies? anyone could have walked in

- not even getting into this whole thing just being one huge misunderstanding + minimizing daemon's and mysaria's roles :))

- NOT EVEN mentioning removing the trauma of alicent witnessing all of this, gagged and bound on her own bed, not being able to help or intervene in any way

i can understand the likelihood of these elements happening sometimes (maybe someone does forget to lock their door from time to time, maybe a guard does shirk their duties from time to time), but you can't write all of them at once without it turning all looney tunes. if you introduce too many aspects that defy logic in your story, it ceases to be believable and just becomes bad writing

___________________________________________

also, "they killed <the boy>"? not "my son" or "jaehaerys"? it sounds so removed, don't you think? helaena out there on her mother's floor dropping exposition for the audience 🥲

[amaranthineghost]

Hi there! Can you do a pov/one shot/ fanfic where Lando is dating Y/N and her love language is biting. She randomly and softly bots Lando but he enjoys it knowing that she is fully comfortable with him to be herself. One day Max,Pietra and some other friends of Lando come to visit them in Monaco and Pietra is annoyed with Max for teasingly refusing to sit next to Y/N, P telling him that he can sit next to Y/n cause she doesn’t bite. Lando starts laughing and says that y/n does bite and moves his shirt to show a small bite mark on his shoulder. Y/N laughs it off but she gets insecure thinking that her love language is bothering Lando so she fights the urge to bite him again. After a few days Lando notices that she doesn’t bite him anymore and starts thinking that he did something to upset her. He asks her why and she eventually tells him and he gets a bit upset. He tells her that he actually likes it because its her way of showing her love and the fact that she is comfortable around him.

Idk some fluff or something

Thank you for at least reading this and I really love your work🧡

|  SINK YOUR TEETH INTO ME, MY DEAR ( lando norris. ) |

ꕥ pairing: lando norris x reader

ꕥ summary: reader's love language is biting, but experiences a feeling of insecurity

ꕥ author note: oh to have a boyfriend to experience this with. fair warning, I refrain from using y/n in imagines unless it's really unavoidable because at this point y/n is a whole person by herself. if something is worded weirded, or 'she' and 'her' get repetitive, that's why. but anyways, I really like this request, its so cute and silly and i hope i did it justice :3

HIS BODY WAS OFTEN ADORNED with bite marks, indentions in his skin where you could see the canines had dipped it lower than the rest. it was a reminder to him of her love.

and he happily carried them everywhere with him, smiling to himself with every glance in the mirror at his bare torso. some faded more than others as they trailed along his arms, upwards to his shoulder and across to his collarbone.

the pads of his fingers slowly rubbed over them, a small smile spreading across his face, something he'd done everyday as the new blemishes came and went.

at first, he'd thought of it as strange, taken off guard by the sudden pinch on his bicep as she'd sink her teeth into his flesh. not so hard to break skin, she wasn't a vampire. but it was enough for him to be reminded of it.

as time went on and the occurrences became more frequent, he'd find himself smiling at it. it was his way of knowing she loved him, that she was comfortable around him, that she was safe with him, she always was and she knew that. at least he hoped she did.

to be loved was to be bitten, was what he knew. she had taught him that.

he had noticed a change though, it was hard not to. the sudden pinces throughout the day, he hadn't noticed weren't there because he had gotten used to them being there. if that made sense. it did to him.

but if he didn't notice the lack of sudden but light pain, followed with a trail of thin salvia leading to the culprits lips, he would notice the lack of marks that riddled his body.

lando had woken up that morning, groggy and his body sore from yesterday's training. the warm of his shared bed beckoned him to stay. to lay with her forever.

he wished he could, but he knew better than to lay around, even if it was with his girlfriend. though he might. was there ever any harm to remain within the comfort and grasp of the warm body that stayed passed out next to him, oblivious to his waking?

he always thought not. his trainer thought otherwise but turned a blind eye for the young couple. though their sickeningly love for the other made him roll his eyes behind their backs. all fun and games. something to laugh about.

his veined hands, warm and adorned with rings, traced across the low of her back. he watched the goosebumps take their place on her skin, her face stirring as she pushed herself further into the bed. he chuckled softly at her reaction, his thumb gliding across her exposed skin, dipping below the hem of the cloth on her body.

he lightly squeezed the flesh under his fingertips, pulling his hand across her back before replacing the covers on her. he slipped out of bed, leaning over momentarily.

his fingers slipped through her hair, getting caught in the knots that tied in the midst of her slumber. using his thumb, he brushed the strands from her face to see half her features smushed against the plush pillow.

another low chuckle escaped his throat, tucking the hair behind her ear as he pulled back and stared at the beauty before him. his eyes dilated the more he looked at her, but he wouldn't know.

his journey through the bathroom to get ready would be halted when he noticed a difference on his bare skin. but it wasn't bare because of the lack of shirt he found himself not to be wearing. what was different?

the pads of his fingers traced his skin for the indentions he cherished deeply, only met with the perfect evenness of his tan skin.

his actions haltered and brows furrowed. instinctively, he leaned closer to the mirror, the veins in his hands becoming more prominent as he pulled his skin. he turned in circles.

no blemishes in sight. not the work of his beloved girlfriend anyways.

he frowned, disappointed by the disruption of his routine. his ritual.

he swore to her many times that he could probably differentiate the marks of her teeth in his flesh to any other bite mark he'd come across. he knew her teeth better than his own. he swore he did.

he knew the indentions that littered his skin, but they weren't here. he wanted them to be so bad. why the change?

his heart sunk in his chest. he sighed. how could he not notice?

his eyes met his own gaze in the mirror, his fingers still tracing his bare collarbone and down his shoulder. he pursed his lips, eating away at the pink flesh until it irritated.

his hands fell down to the sink, supporting his body weight as he leaned on them as he pondered.

he surely noticed how faded they looked. how the red inflammation, that manifested on his skin, just didn't. but the change never processed in his brain.

he racked through the events of the past couple of days. nothing stood out.

they'd mostly stayed home together, other than the times lando went out for training. but it surely wasn't that, as she had no problem with it in the past. she understood what he did and the requirements of it that he had to meet.

lando groaned in realization. days earlier, lando and his girlfriend were out on the water with a few of their friends, drivers and their girlfriends.

it was a beautiful day, he had remembered because of the way the sun reflected off her skin, how her pupils shrank at the blinding light, but revealed the capsulating colors behind them.

he sat on the cushioned seats of the yacht, next to her with his warm hand on her inner thigh, a drink in the other. the rest of the group littered around the deck with various drinks in hand as they chatted.

most of them were just hanging out in their swimsuits as none of them had yet decided to take the plunge into the crystal waters.

they had sat next to each other for a while, lando leaning closer to hear her voice, the music was loud. her lips grazed his ear a few times, he remembered. the gloss on her lips left on his skin.

she remembered the scratch of his cheek as he'd forgotten to shave earlier whenever he'd lean into whisper in her ear. his lips ghostly hovered her neck, grazing her skin softly. despite the warm sun, goosebumps took their place down her neck.

he always chuckled at the rising bumps on her skin whenever he did something she liked. it always gave him a surge of confidence to know the effect he had against her.

"get a room!" the brit called out, laughing as he walked over with a drink in hand. his girlfriend followed behind, shaking her head at his words, but a smile evident on her face.

max fewtrell was one of lando's long time friends. their girlfriends also happened to be friends, long before the two guys came into their lives.

"mind if we sit?" pietra asked, not waiting for an answer as she took a place on the leather couch. leaving a space between the two girls so max could sit too.

she looked up to see max still standing, she rolled her eyes and patted the spot next to her, "there's enough room for all of us, why won't you sit?"

max shrugged his shoulder, "I don't know, mate, she might bite me if I try sitting down!" he exclaimed jokingly, inciting a laugh between the group.

she felt her body heat up uncomfortably, laughing along despite her discomfort.

pietra tugged on his sleeve, "she doesn't bite, you're being dramatic." her attempts were futile.

lando laughed and shook his head, "I don't know, mate, you might want to be careful." his hand left her thigh as he pulled up his sleeve to his shoulder, as he hadn't taken off his shirt just yet.

she felt her face flush and reddened, but hid it by laughing with the group, pushing her head into the crevice of his neck momentarily. his hand found her back again.

she felt the cushion next to her dip, followed by a hand squeezing her knee. she turned her head. pietra gave her a sympathetic look when she'd realized the girl's reaction.

pietra leaned close to her ear, like what lando and her were doing earlier. she whispered a few words to her before pulling away and taking a sip of her drink, wrapping her arm around her shoulder. she felt herself smile and relaxed in her seat.

but on the inside, she was eating herself up, overthinking to exhaustion. her stomach felt sick, was her habit a bother to him?

she found herself hiding in the bathroom throughout the rest of the hangout, claiming seasickness but denying medicine for it.

each time she find hersef back in the bathroom with anxious nausea and the door locked, lando would be on the other side. he'd knock on her door, talking her through it, asking her if he could get her anything, telling her he'd wait for her to come out again.

days past and she refrained from sinking her teeth into the perfect skin of his bicep, the valley of his collarbone, or the broadness before the drop of his shoulder.

each time she found herself with the urge to show the love she had through her teeth, she stopped herself.

it killed lando to think about how he could've made her feel. but he needed her to come to him, he didn't want to pry information out of her.

he could ask but he couldn't make her tell.

the door to the bathroom creaked open, lando's head snapping towards the noise, noticing the tired face eyeing him through the slit in the door.

he pushed himself from the counter, his heart beating slightly faster as he sighed. she opened the door more and dragged her feet against the tiled floor. he noticed the way her eyes squinted against the light.

she stopped when she collided against him. her cheek pushed against his chest as she leaned her weight against him.

he pulled her closer when he placed a hand on her head, another one around the low of her back. his lips were against her hair and he inhaled slowly. the faded tropical scent of her shampoo lingered in her hair.

in his head, he debated asking her. not only was she still tired, but he didn't want to push her farther, in case he had done something.

his heart beat heavily in his chest, muttering against her scalp, "what's going on, darling?" he caressed the strands of her hair, "hm?"

her heart skipped a beat, she thought he hadn't noticed, or that he didn't say anything because he had secretly hoped for this to happen.

she decided to play dumb, speaking softly against his bare skin, "what do you mean?" her voice muffled.

"come on, I know your biting habits. what's wrong?" he spoke patiently to her as he cradled her tired body in his arms, swaying softly as they stood admist the cold bathroom air.

her eyes fluttered shut as she mumbled, "I thought it annoyed you."

his head shook against hers, "why do you think that, love?" he held his breath for the answer, but in his heart, he knew what she was going to say.

he was met with silence for a long time, he knew she was thinking it over in her head. she finally spoke, "remember the yacht trip a few days ago?"

he exhaled deeply, his eyes clenching shut as he pursed his lips, "i'm an idiot," he muttered, pulling away partially.

" 's okay," she shrugged, looking up at him with big eyes.

he swore in his mind, if it weren't for the circumstances, he would've folded. he slowly blinked, his tongue gliding along his lower lip.

"it's not, darling. even if max and i were just messing around," he breathed in and out slowly, his hand caressing her pillow-marked face, "i'm sorry you felt that way, okay? you know, i love when you do it," he reassured, and he saw her eyes dilate when he did.

"really? but why?" she questioned him, scanning his face, eyes, body language for any hint of deceit. she found none.

"it tells me you're comfortable, baby, and that's all I want for you."

she listened for his tone. it was sincere.

and they stayed like that for a while. in each other's embrace, they knew all was well again as they talked through it some more.

"ow."

[knickety]

doing some digging and reading of lore for my yaoqing trio manifesto (which is leaning slightly feiqiu heavy at the moment BUT I AM determined to do Moze justice as well. part of the reason I am yelling about this here, because it is so fascinating)

When Feixiao first meets Moze, he tries to attack her, angry with her+her troops for routing the Disciples of Sanctus Medicus who had been experimenting on him. Despite the experiments, he had considered them family, not knowing the broader details of their operation but only that they had 'saved' him (for their own purposes) after he was orphaned and abandoned by his previous home. We don't know any details about his life prior to the Disciples, for now.

Back to Feixiao! It seems that she had initially planned to have nothing further to do with Moze after freeing him- after his initial first lunge at her, she deflects, telling him that "Someone will come to plan a home and life for you. Just follow them and you will be fine."

Moze does not listen, and continues trying to attack her. She dodges, holds him back, tells her soldiers not to react or punish him- and admits that he reminds her of herself, freshly escaped from the borisin war camp where she grew up. And this similarity prompts a change of mind:

First of all, hilarious that part of the deal was Feixiao being like "you can try to kill me... but you need to learn and grow and take care of yourself first." okay mom

Second of all:

We see this odd transaction they've got going- Feixiao, who says her only enemy has ever been herself, places a guard who has a vested interest in killing her close to her side- to keep her on his toes, to (presumably- this is my own speculation) train him to be the best equipped to take her out, should she ever actually become a threat.

She trades his attempts on her life for missions carried out on her behalf- and it is through those missions, which Moze at first only carries out to earn more 'forgiveness'/attempts at trying to revenge himself upon her, that he begins to question his loyalty to the Disciples of Sanctus Medicus, and realize the extent of the harm that they did- but doesn't think about it, because to question that would be to throw this whole tenuous balance into question. If he no longer feels loyalty to the Disciples, and no longer wants revenge on Feixiao, what does that leave him with?

And in his E6, which I've seen people refer to as the character represented in their purest form, we see this:

Moze, clutching one of Feixiao's strales so tightly that it cuts him. Clinging to the fascimile of vengeance, of her transactional forgiveness- even if he has stopped truly wanting to kill her, and even if there is nothing to forgive.

[starogeorgina]

𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬

Paring: Jacaerys Velaryon x Targ oc

Warnings: Smut, violence, blood, swearing

1.16

Jacaerys flinches in pain. His fingers dig into the dark brown leather arms of the chair as the maester finishes stitching the wound in his thigh where the arrow had struck him. Jace had reluctantly accepted the smallest amount of milk from the poppy after being persuaded by your mother, who was becoming distressed seeing him in pain. Your mother and Daemon had taken kings landing without any bloodshed when the green army guarding the city dropped their weapons and retreated when they saw Syrax and Caraxes circling above the keep. But the cheering for your mother's victory was short-lived when you and Jacaerys returned injured.

When the maester moves away, a handmaiden steps forward with a bowl of clean water and a cloth to wipe the blood away. Her touch is unintentionally harsh, and when Jace clenches his fist, you decide to intervene.

“Allow me.”

You hold your hand out to take the bowl from her, but the handmaiden looks back at Maester, as if she’s waiting for him to give her permission. The sooner Maester Gerardys arrived from Dragonstone, the better. You didn’t blame the girl for being unsure; she had served the greens for so long that she probably thought you were all monsters.

“I can tend to my husband,” you say softly. “You may go; we will be fine.”

The handmaid leaves the bowl and cloth on the table, then bows before leaving. Clearing his throat, the maester says, “I will need to return soon and put a fresh bandage on the princess’s arm to cover the stitches, my prince.”

“I will redress the princess’s arm once she has bathed.”

“My prince, princess,” the maester seems unsure but goes without saying anything further. Since maester Orwyle was in chains, the current maester would only be serving in the keep for a short time before returning to the citadel.

Exhausted, you sit on the floor between Jace’s legs and start washing away the blood, old and new. Seeing fresh tears gather in your eyes, Jace gently tilts your chin up to face him. “I hate seeing you hurt.”

“I’m scared.”

“I know my love, but it’s over. Our mother is on the throne, and the greens are no longer a threat. Our children can come home.”

You press your cheek against his clothed thigh. “It’s not over, though; Aegon escaped. He will still have men willing to back him for being born with a cock. What if he finds our children before we do?”

Jace’s jaw tightens. He couldn’t deny it was a possibility. “Sunfyre is still in the dragon pit; Aegon won’t be able to go north on foot. If he’s smart, he’ll leave the red keep. Knights have been sent to search Old Town and what remains of the riverlands.”

He was right; as long as Aegon was unable to reach his dragon, he’d be stuck lurking in the sewers where he belonged. The greens were currently locked in the cells of the castle, aside from the most dangerous one. “I’ve still not received a raven back yet; I’m worried.”

“It will take a couple of days, my love, and I trust Lord Stark will let no harm come to our family.”

“I best get this off you,” your hands shake as you resume wiping blood off his leg. When Jace suddenly tenses, you stop. “Jacaerys?”

He quickly steps in front of you, snatching his sword that’s lying on the wooden table. The door to the chamber bursts open, and in the commotion, you knock the bowl containing bloody water over. Daemon comes to an abrupt halt. “There are six members of the kingsguard posted outside these quarters, and you believed our enemies could waltz by them?”

“And yet some of the very same kingsguard remained in kings landing and served the greens. Until her grace chooses knights herself, I won’t trust them.”

“How very wise, my prince,” Daemon smiles before looking both over. “You are both still filthy. Good. Come along; her grace wants us to join her immediately.”

—

Jace finds solace holding you close in the bed you’d be spending the night in. As your mother only reclaimed her rightful throne earlier that day, permanent quarters had yet to be readied, and the servants were working hard to remove any sigils of the usurper before hanging your mother's banners. Not that you cared about something so insignificant as sleeping quarters; you just wanted the day to be over.

Jace smiles at your shoulder; your robe is open at the front, giving him access to the bare skin of your stomach. He traces his finger along the glossy-looking scars left from multiple pregnancies.

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing; I’m just admiring how beautiful you are.”

A small laugh passes your lips. “You can hardly even see my scaly scars in this light.”

Over the years, Jacaerys would insist you think of the stretch marks as dragon scales whenever you complained of them. From anyone else, it may have been an insult, but Jace always said it admiringly. Neither of you had bathed since returning, as Daemon said it would be good for the people to see Rhaenyra's eldest children and heirs looking like warriors. Both of your bodies and hair were covered in soot, blood, and dirt. Jace stripped his clothes off, then collapsed onto the bed naked, while you threw a thin blue robe on.

“They are reminders of how strong you are, only adding to your beauty.”

You chuckle at his sweet words. You run your fingers through Jace’s thick hair, keeping as you start to fall into a slumber, but the pressure building makes you reposition further up the bed until you’re sitting with your back against the headrest. Jace looks at you quizzically and moves to sit beside you.

“The weight of my breasts is hurting my back.”

He glances at you sympathetically. If your baby was here, the pain would subside dramatically since you’d be able to feed him. You noticed Jace’s gaze now lingering on your swollen breast. Realizing he’s been caught, he gulps down, “This is the biggest they have ever been.”

You readjust your posture, and this time Jace does the same, so he’s right beside you. He pushes your robe open further and cups your breasts, feeling the warm, swollen flesh in his hands as he lifts them slightly.

“Gods.”

“Feel any better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

He slowly rubs circles on your sensitive nipples until they are hard, then dips his head down to take one into his mouth. Jace gives equal attention to both breasts, licking and sucking on them to give you relief. One of his hands slowly moves from your breast, down your rib cage, and stops just below your navel. Wetness was gathering between your thighs, and Jace knew this by the way you pressed your legs together.

His lips ghost over yours. “What do you want?”

“For my husband to desire me.”

“Sweet wife, all I’ve ever wanted was you, and even now, I still ache for your touch.” Jace caresses your thigh; the metal on his rings is cool against your skin. He presses his long finger through your slit, gathering arousal, then rubs it over your clit, causing you to moan. He sucks on your nipple again.

Lewd sounds fall from your mouth as Jace pushes a finger between your folds. Your back arches at his touch. Given how long it had been since you were last intimate and how reactive your body was to his touch, it doesn’t take long for your legs to begin shaking as your orgasm gets closer. Jace props at your hole with a second finger, but when you wince, he pulls it away.

“Still so tight, princess; I don’t wish to hurt you.”

“Fuck, Jace!”

Screaming his name, you climax over his fingers. “If it weren’t for the pain and wound on your thigh, I’d mount and ride you as I would a dragon.”

“I will be most definitely looking forward to the feeling of you claiming me as yours again.” Smiling, his nose brushes against yours, “but I’m not done with you yet for the night. I’m desperate to taste you.”

—

“Have the cots moved slightly further apart. My sons will only kick each other during the night if they are too close.”

The handmaiden nods. “I will have them moved, princess.”

In the early hours of the morning, you were informed your mother's old quarters would be the ones you would reside in. The color green was almost completely withdrawn from the castle walls. All bedchambers would be adorned with the sigil of House Targaryen, along with the moon-and-falcon sigil of House Arryn, to honor Queen Aemma. And a silver seahorse on sea green from House Velaryon to honor not only your husband but also your late father, Laenor Velaryon. Aemma and Rhaenys bedchambers would be beside each other, and Avery and Aethan would share a room until they were older.

“Thank you… forgive me, I never caught your name.”

“Mia Princess. Which bedchamber would you like to be in Prince Daemon’s room?”

“The room next to his brothers, but have his cot brought to my side of the bed. My babe will be sleeping in the same room as us.”

Nearly all of the servants had traveled from Dragonstone by boat to serve the queen in King's landing. The handmaidens who knew how to care for your children chose several items for their new chambers, including furniture, clothing, and bedding. You pick up one of the blankets and look for the name sewn into it.

“Good morrow, my prince.”

“Good morrow,” he nods politely. “Good morrow, wife.”

Noticing something was slightly off with Jacaerys, you turn to face the handmaiden. “Could you ask for them to move the crib into our bedchamber before building the furniture in the princess’s room?”

“Of course, right away, princess.”

“Thank you, Mia.” When she’s out of the room, you place a hand on Jace’s arm. “Something wrong, my prince?”

“You haven’t eaten this morning.”

Chuckling, you look at him surprised. “Is that all? I could not find sleep and bathed early, then got caught up in different things. I have news: a raven arrived from Clara, and the children are fine. The Stark’s are taking good care of them.”

“Thank the gods!” he sighs in relief. Jacaerys, like you, was terrified that something would happen to them; his calm demur about the situation was just a front. Stepping forward, he holds the blanket in your hand at the opposite end. “Aega?”

“It’s supposed to say Aegarax, but I’ve not had the time to finish it.” You’d embroider the name of your children’s dragons into their blankets once they are chosen. “Soon all my time will be consumed with motherly duties again, and I for one cannot wait.”

Jace runs his knuckle over your cheek; the gaze in his eyes is nothing short of adoration. “My love, I don’t believe those duties ever stopped.”

—

Growing up as the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen, you were spoiled with the finest gowns and jewelry. Even when you lived among vipers, you still had an exceptional wardrobe. But as one of your handmaidens finished the intricate braids in your silver hair, you felt different. The black dress was made of the softest free-flowing fabric and was slightly shorter at the front to allow your red dragon riding boots to be worn soon. On the bodice of the dress, a three-headed red dragon is sewn in. The sleeves were short enough for the stitches on your arm to be seen.

Daemon’s gaze was burning into the back of you as he patiently waited. He knew how important keeping appearances was. He was dressed in the armor that he would wear into battle.

When the braiding is finished, you excuse the handmaiden and stand. Daemon gives you an approving nod: “You look fearsome, good daughter. Queen Visenya would be proud. Not only a princess, but a Targaryen dragon-rider who fights for the rightful queen.”

Toying with the rings on your fingers, you say, “Might I ask where we are going? I don’t believe her grace mentioned us going to battle on dragon back.”

“To face our enemies. As you know, Queen Rhaenyra and Prince Jacaerys are discussing solutions on how best to deal with the crown's debt to the Iron Bank caused by the usurper, and her grace wishes for you to take the lead on another issue. Shall we go?”

Daemon has his hand on the hilt of dark sister as you follow his lead, making your way through the hallways of the keep. When the halls are nearly empty, Daemon breaks the silence. “As I said to her grace, you and Prince Jacaery are perfectly matched. You both possess your mother’s gentle nature, are quick to anger, and never forget a slight; however, if you are to rule one day, we will need to make sure you can channel your anger properly.”

“Ah yes, something you strive in, Prince Daemon.”

He chuckles, “Our queen thinks the same thing. Which is why she thinks it's best you decide what happens next.”

You stop walking when you reach the outside of the throne room. It scares you, not knowing what awaits on the other side. “I’m frightened, Daemon,” you say quietly enough that only he can hear. “What if I let my mother and Jacaerys down?”

“You are a Targaryen, Lyarra. Blood of the dragon, and one day you’ll be queen. The simple truth is that, as the daughter of the first queen of Westeros, you’ll have to understand the importance of your responsibilities.”

“I understand my responsibilities.”

—

“Why am I to decide?” You ask in your mother tongue.

High Valyrian rolls off Daemon’s tongue impeccably. “The queen still feels guilt sending you to live with these usurper cunts. She is trying to make amends.”

It hurts your heart to know your mother still blames herself for how badly the Hightowers treated you.

Although Aegon fled when your mother and Daemon took back the king's landing, the rest of the green council were arrested and held in the black cells of the keep. Not daring to overstep by sitting on the throne that belongs to your mother, you stand in front of it. Your hands become sweaty as you look down at the prisoners who were on their knees, trying to decide their fate. It wasn’t an easy decision to make, especially with the memories of how cruelly you had been treated coming flooding back. You glance at Lady Baela, the only other member of the Queen's Council who is currently present. She gives you a small nod, a silent act of support.

Clearing your throat, you speak in English again and address members of the kingsguard. “Return Maester Orwyle, Ser Tyland Lannister, Lord Jasper Wyldel, to their previous cells. They are to be sharply questioned to see if they are of any further use to us.”

“And if they aren’t?” Daemon asks with a mischievous look on his face.

“Then they can either die or go north and join the nightwatch. Take Ser Arryk to the cells on the second level. After being questioned, he will receive the same choice.”

Alicent scoffs.

“If I may ask something, princess?”

You look at the traitor's bastard Otto amused and say, “Speak freely, but nothing you say will change your fate.”

Understanding, he nods, “What is to become of Aegon’s heirs? They are—”

“Innocent,” you cut him off. “Princess Jaehaera and Prince Maelor will be treated as any other highborn child. You have my word; no harm will come to them.”

“The city belongs to Princess Rhaenyra for now.” Alicent’s voice is laced with venom. “But she will not hold it long. The rats play when the cat is gone, but my son Aemond will return with fire and blood.”

“Aemond is dead.” You study her expression, and she does not waver. The former queen doesn’t believe her son is dead. You walk down the steps until you are in front of her and crouch down. “The bruising on my neck is from his hands. He managed to sneak into Dragonstone and waited until I was alone in my bedchamber and tried to strangle me to death.”

Her eyes gloss over with tears.

“Prince Jacaerys put an end to the assassination attempt.” You stand up straight again and smooth out the creases in your dress while taking a couple of steps backwards. “The usurper's loyal hound, Ser Criston Cole was killed by dragonfire on the battlefield.”

She holds your gaze and grits her teeth. “Which dragon?”

“Vermax.”

“Bastards are monstrous by nature.”

“Another word about my husband, and I shall have your tongue cut from your mouth. The last time we saw each other, you mocked the deaths of Prince Lucerys and Prince Gaemon. You should be grateful I haven’t had your head placed on a fucking spike.”

Otto gives his daughter a stern look, telling her to be quiet.

“Death is an easy escape, Alicent. You can live the rest of your life knowing that your own ambition is the reason your children are dead. Send her to the silent sisters.”

When she’s escorted out of the throne room by Ser Erryk, you return your attention to the men remaining. “Otto Hightower, I sentence you to death for the crime of treason.”

Prince Daemon stands beside you, and you step to the side silently, giving him permission to go ahead and carry out the sentencing. The former hand of the king would always be a threat to your family. Daemon goes down the steps and, in one swing, slices Otto’s head off with dark sister. You hold back a shriek when blood begins to spread across the marble floor.

Your eyes narrow in on the last person kneeling. “Take Larys Strong to the black cells; keep him in chains until his sentence is carried out tomorrow in the dragon pit.”

—

“You did good,” Daemon praises as you leave the throne room. “Those green cun—”

He was cut off by the handmaiden you spoke with earlier, rushing over to you, her cheeks flushed red. “Princess,” she gasps. “My prince, my lady. Forgive the interruption, but the queen has asked for you to go to the council room immediately.”

You could sense the urgency from Mia without her outright saying how serious the situation was, “Thank you.”

You hold your dress at the front so you can run without tripping, and the three of you rush to the small council pivy. Soon as you enter the room, your eyes are glued to Jace, who is gripping onto the edge of the table, tears rolling down his cheeks. He looks enraged.

“My Prince,” you go to him, and his grip on the table is hard; his knuckles turn white while he grabs ahold of something tightly in the other. “Mother, your grace, what's going on?”

Your mother's chest and neck are blotchy from stress; she holds onto her necklace tightly for comfort. There are tears in her eyes as well. The queen struggles to control her emotions as she tries to speak.

“A raven arrived for me,” Jace’s voice cracks. “It was a massage from Aegon; it says ‘a daughter for a daughter, bastard’. He still thinks I took Aemma from him, and now he’s going to take Reni from me.”

You feel as if you’re going to be physically sick. “What?”

“This is Reni’s,” Jace says, opening up his hand, and you shudder at seeing your daughter's doll. “We need to go North immediately.”

When Jace goes to storm out of the room, you catch his arm, preventing him from leaving. “Jacaerys, wait!”

“We cannot wait; he’s going after our little girl.”

You take the doll from his trembling hand. “Rhaenys sobbed when she realized her favorite toy was left behind.” With her name sewn into the doll's dress, anyone could have easily guessed who it belonged to. “Her doll was in our bedchamber.”

“Which means…”

“Aegon is in Dragonstone.”

[sideysvault]

𓍼ོ Ad Astra Per Aspera 𓍼ོ (PT. 6)

Knowing Evil

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

wc: 1757k

Tags: [sfw] Arranged marriage, mature themes, angst, coldness, enemies to lovers, eventual fluff and smut, family drama, Aegon being Aegon, more comedic and lighthearted than usual.

Full Series masterlist here. read part seven.

────────

Seeing him stumble out of the venue was almost saddening. He had a rather ghostly look; Sunken eyes, yellowish skin and the most greasy hair she had ever seen. The Princess did not appreciate the King, but God, was he a pitiful watch. 

The Silk Street themselves were as dirty as usual, the mixture of booze, vomit, and oil scents coming from the brothel made a rather strong contrast with the cool, light air of the night. 

Upon recognizing her, Aegon almost immediately felt a sense of shock and disbelief, what was she doing here? Was his obnoxiously righteous sister-in-law conducting an illicit affair? This exciting new prospect was immediately rendered boring once he noticed the boxes in her hands. 

Aegon was a seasoned drinker, you see, and even if he could not walk properly, he could still talk with only a small hint of his indisposition “Ah, so you are the one dressing whores and bastards in expensive silk.” 

He laughed at her, like a child would, apparently finding her charity efforts endlessly amusing. Aegon then stumbled his way out of the door to give her an unrequited side hug. The Princess, disgusted by his drunken smell, swiftly spanked his hand away from her shoulders. 

Probably too inebriated to be offended, he halfheartedly let out a “You dare put hands on me?”. 

The Princess had way more pressing matters than to entertain the drunken failure that broke her husband’s heart. So, deciding to ignore him, especially with the knowledge that this was the only night that the kind and discrete guard was on duty, she made her way to the entrance of the brothel. Even if they were not particularly close, Prince Aemond’s disheveled look and poignant sincere shame still haunted her.  

Going out of the walls in the depths of dawn had become a routine occurrence in her life. After all, she never felt like she was in any real danger, as no one ever recognized her as a member of the court, and her initial travels to the orphanage and interactions with the whores, —most of whom were the mothers of said orphans—, had always appreciated the bread, toys and garments. It made her felt secure and loosely protected. While she could not account for the actions of strange men, she felt fairly confident that she would not be violently harmed in any form. 

Nevertheless, as she was handing out the boxed goods, she felt a pinch of concern about the King being confused for someone of a lower rank and robbed. Or perhaps, even worse, being recognized as the majesty himself and causing further damage to his already crumbling image. The Princess quickly apologized to the Madam for not having the courtesy of overseeing the donation herself, but the woman cackled at Aegon’s arguably pathetic state and nodded, dismissing the situation as an understandable one. 

What the hell was he doing without company anyway? The improper behavior, being alone, clearly mentally disturbed —Although, she supposed that it was his natural state—. Would it be really that cruel to leave him to fend for himself? 

Aegon had brought it upon himself, after all. And the affair could provide further fodder for scandal-mongering pamphleteers and common folk, already keen on portraying the King as a corrupt brute. Ever since the cruel public hanging of the Rat Catchers —Which both her and her husband had vehemently opposed to—, The King had left them more vulnerable than ever. Beset by severe food shortages, weighed down by taxes, resentful of royal absolutism and inspired by the Black's enticing old world ways, people were growing increasingly vocal in their demands for change. But Gods, she could not overlook the cruelty he had inflicted upon her husband, and the unfounded mockery that mirrored the barbarian judgement she had suffered as well. But she guessed she could not have The King wandering the streets in these troubling times. Fuck. 

Having made her mind, she walked towards him and intertwined her arm with his, ignoring his disgusting state, she began to guide him towards the Walls. 

“Come on, Aegon The Magnanimous, let’s get you to rest”. 

He smirked through his teeth, but sternly spat out, “Do not mock me, woman.”

A wide smile appeared on her lips. He was even more useless than usual, and weirdly non-confrontational. 

——

“Do not tell Heleana. She will most certainly tell mother, who is even more sanctimonious than you are.” 

That is what took. The Princess decided to take him to one of the guest chambers instead of his own. She was now considerably less amused with the situation, as she had guessed that the walk to the castle would sober him up completely, but little seemed to have changed in his demeanor. 

She sighed as she pushed him to the bed. He could really become a liability. For all she knew, Aegon could choke on his own vomit and perish, just as her uncle did. And, as much as she would like that to happen, she certainly knew that it would be morally wrong to allow it. Even if he was nothing more than a white-haired bastard of a demon. 

And so she gave him water to drink, and washed his face and neck with cold water to help his mind come out of the fog. She must have made it evident on her face, or perhaps even in that shitty state he had been able to ready it from her gaze. Just as the Princess got up to fetch some clean clothes for him to change into before sleep, he said, “I did not ask for this”.

She impulsively rolled her eyes, immediately recognizing what he was referring to. Her husband had asked for it, but no one answered his prayers. And Gods, she may have been asked for it herself, if she was born a man. 

Oh Aegon, arrogant and self-indulgent man. Why was it that the sad, defeated portrayal of him managed to pander to her tender heart? Despite all the advantages of his birthright, his little self-worth and faith and self-isolating behavior would probably be the demise of him. 

“I know. I know you didn’t”. She wasn’t sure if she was saying this to Aegon, or maybe she was trying to soothe herself into accepting that he was —partially— correct. 

“I see how you look at me. You, fuck, you are just like him.” The Princess also immediately understood who he was talking about. And she knew for a fact that Aemond did feel that way about his brother. 

“That is not the case, Your Grace.”

Aegon moaned in exasperation. He grabbed the nearest pillow and sloppily threw it near her, not even trying to hit his target, a childish tantrum. 

“Stop calling me that, I feel your ridicule every time you say it”

The Princess finally found the spare clothing in a drawer, and gave it to him as she turned away to face the wall. She actually did felt a pinch of regret upon hearing his words.

While he changed, with took a painful amount of time, the girl could hear him mumbling “I have no wish to rule. No taste for duty, I will find a ship and sail away, never to be found”.

Partially worried, as soon as he said he was done, she turned around to find a poorly dressed man. Apparently, Aegon could not deal with the trouble of buttons right this second.

After giving it some thought, afraid and cautious, she got closer to him to fix the mess he had made on his shirt. He still smelled of alcohol and smoke, but the odor was mainly contained in the floor, coming from his old clothing. He looked better. She thought for a moment before saying what had been plaguing her mind ever since she saw him. 

“It is imperative for you to think of your family, of your sister”. 

He nodded, once, twice, and then a third time for good measure. Annoyed, yet again, it was Aegon´s time to slap her hands away from his chest. The Princess furrowed her brows at the sight of the remaining four buttons she hadn’t been able to fix. 

“I know. I fucking know. Do you think I am too stupid to notice?”. 

She furrowed her brows even more and turned her gaze upwards, to look into his eyes. He was angry at her now, and his eyes looked teary. The King approached her, cornering the girl into the wall. His eyes turned an even darker shade of blue, now suddenly sober; crude, as he continued “That oh, so poor, so innocent Heleana will certainly become a scapegoat for nearly everything that is wrong with the dynasty? That she will be condemned simply for being my wife?. Just as my son was?”.

She hummed. She guessed the King wasn’t as much of a brute as she had thought. Her heart had compassionate inclinations that all the Targaryen seemed to be able to exploit, after all. The mention of Jaehaerys had the power to hurt even herself, and she had known the boy for only a few months. Heleana had always told her that despite his flaws, Aegon was still a proper father to his children. He must still be endlessly heartbroken. Burning in grief. She grabbed his hands and looked at him in the eye with an honesty that made him deeply uncomfortable.

“Aegon, look, perhaps you are the most significant example in which destiny will, at times, pluck a man, and with a commanding hand, have them overstep the bounds of their capacities.”

She knew that he will always remain a fervent supporter of absolute royal power. And, of course, an unrepentant enemy of the Blacks ideals, unable to compromise.

If that is to be so, he could at least conduct himself with some sense of valor and honor.

Aegon seemed taken aback by her words, taking a few beats to process what she had just said. 

And then laughed in her face and told her to fuck off. She exhaled, irritated, and convinced him to puke into a bucket for good measure. She quickly informed him she was off to sleep for whatever was the rest of the night. 

The Princess could’ve sworn she heard a ‘thank you’ coming from The King's lips as she was leaving. But it could not have been, as she turned around and saw him quietly rest his drunkenness off. 

It must have been a particular noise produced by the wind. 

────────

Notes: Two in a row? Lets goo

[soukokuforthesoul]

“oh, yeah, we’re partners!” dazai said, patting the woman’s head reassuringly. “you’re in safe hands.”

“oh, thank god,” the woman breathed, as kunikida watched behind dazai for any movement. “so you two know each other well.”

“yep!” nodding, dazai helped the woman stand, allowing her to lean onto him. her injuries were light, but he was sure the shock of it all might hinder her ability to walk properly. much to his predictions, she wobbled, tilting into his hold.

“sorry,” she said quickly, a moment later. surprisingly, this was to kunikida, rather than dazai.

turning at the apology, kunikida frowned slightly. “huh?”

“i know you two are partners, i’m not trying to get in the way,” she murmured.

unsure what them being partners had to do with anything, kunikida shook his head. “it’s our job, ma’am, and we’ll do our best to do it properly. whatever you must do to keep yourself safe, you should proceed. we’ll adapt to it quickly, so there’s no need to apologize.”

“huh?” this time, it was the woman’s turn to be confused. she glanced at dazai. “ah, i meant… you two are partners, right?”

for a moment, both men simply stared at her. then understanding dawned on dazai’s face and a wide smile formed on his lips—though he did not share his discovery with kunikida, much to his distaste.

“ah! yes, yes, we are,” dazai said much too gleefully. “but not to worry. neither of us mind, else if we did our work would be much harder.”

“oh, alright,” the woman said, relieved, and allowed herself to be guided to safety.

once she was far enough from immediate danger, the two continued where they had left off before they found her, all the while making sure nothing in her vicinity would harm her. kunikida watched dazai’s near-diabolic grin for a moment before asking, “what was that all about?”

“oh, kunikida-kun, did you know that we’re dating?” dazai questioned so calmly that it took a moment for the inquiry to register.

nearly tripping on his own feet, kunikida struggled not to make a fool of himself in his shock. “what?!”

startled by the shout, the woman craned her neck, but finding no obvious source of stress, settled back down. dazai, meanwhile, continued with the mission as steadily as ever, ignoring kunikida’s indignant sputters.

“yes, yes, we’ve been dating since forever! you confessed in your sleep and we’ve been partners ever since,” dazai rambled, checking a discarded gun he’d picked up for bullets. it was empty, and he relaid the information to kunikida all whilst proceeding with his nonsense.

protesting, kunikida followed after him in his pursuit for clarity, almost missing the gun as dazai tossed it over to him for further inspection. he carefully put it away, still bombarding dazai with questions.

“what in the world are you going on about?” he demanded.

“partners, kunikida-kun,” dazai said, abruptly turning and tapping kunikida’s nose in a teacher-like manner, as if urging him to answer his own question. “she said we’re partners, right? and that we are!”

“we’re work partn—“ kunikida began, before pausing. “oh. oh, she misunderstood?”

“yes,” dazai agreed, failing to pat him. “good job, detective kunikida-kun. the case is solved.”

kunikida scowled. “why didn’t you just say—“

dazai interrupted him, waving off kunikida’s irritation. “it was obvious. i didn’t realize you could get so caught off guard that your brain might fly away, but that’s for another time. let’s get this over with and bring the poor lady home so she doesn’t think she’s caused a lovers’ quarrel.”

albeit annoyed, kunikida complied, huffing as he aided dazai in finishing the mission.

the woman, still close enough in proximity to hear them, wondered briefly why dazai hadn’t corrected her once he’d understood. then brushed it off, deciding that if he’d agreed with her, there must be something going on between the two. she went back to waiting patiently, watching them bicker from a distance.

[marinettesaltprompts]

The Perfect Partner (Part 3)

Prompt by @ironicreality

The expressions on Ladybug and Ryuko’s faces was worth every second he’d spent in the all-too-tight suit.

“Cat!?” Ladybug stumbled on her landing as she stared at the struggling butterfly he kept tightly trapped in one hand. “You got the Akuma- *already*?”

‘Without me!?’ went unsaid, but Cat Walker could practically feel Ladybug’s sense of reality breaking down.

“I found an opening.” Rubbing it in would be pointlessly petty and they were there to do a job, not play for points; “ready when you are.”

He held out his hand and Ladybug recovered enough to call for a Lucky Charm- an umbrella of all things- and promptly ready her yo-yo. One purification and a Miraculous Cure later, and there was no sign that Stormy Weather had ever been a threat.

“You dealt with that threat quickly,” Ryuko spoke first.

“She let her guard down,” Cat Walker calmly walked over to his dropped baton and snapped it into its compact form.

“The Akuma can multiply,” Ladybug finally regained her senses, and blurted out her critique;“If it’s left too long on its own, the Akuma can make hundreds- *thousands* of copies of itself.” Ladybug told him. “You *shouldn’t* have broken the Akumatized object before I was here.”

Well that *would* explain why no one else on her team ever tried to break the Akumatised object without her. Though from the curious look Ryuko let slip towards her leader it was news to her too.

Either way, there was nothing to be gained from point scoring;

“I understand, my apologies Ladybug.” Cat Walker calmly conceded. “I was only trying to prevent further chaos-.”

“That’s why you were here!” Ladybug sharply insisted. “To *distract* Stormy Weather until we arrived so she wouldn’t harm civilians!”

The former Akuma victim herself was still there, and turned red with embarrassment.

Ladybug instantly went pale and apologetic as she swiftly turned to the victim;

“Oh- ah, not that it’s your fault or anything!” She assured her with a wide smile. She swiftly stepped closer to Cat Walker, “I’m just grilling the team rookie on a few pointers!”

She turned to him with a far less cheerful expression. “*And there’s a lot to go over*.”

Cat Walker felt a flash of annoyance, but pushed it aside. He had places to be anyway and again; there was nothing to be gained from a petty public spat with Ladybug. “I agree, but with the attack over it might be best to table that for later. It’s the middle of the day and I’m sure we all have lives to return to.”

Ryuko was staring at him with some surprise like she expected some protest. Ladybug’s eyes narrowed for a moment before she turned on her heel to put her back to him;

“Sorry for calling you out Ryuko. We’ll talk more later.”

“That’s okay Ladybug, I’m always ready to help when I can.” Ryuko nodded to Ladybug and jumped away. Within seconds she had vanished over the Paris skyline, and with a cold look to prompt him Cat Walker quickly made his own way back to his home.

Ladybug of course was quick behind him and landed in his room just seconds after him.

“Okay let’s get something straight.” Ladybug put her hands on her hips. “Handling the Akumas is *my* job, not anyone else’s. All *you* needed to do was keep Stormy Weather busy for a bit- was that too much to ask for?”

Cat Walker bit back a sharp response and composed himself with arms held behind his back. “I was not aware of the Akuma multiplication, and was a novice fighting alone against what I understand is a *very* dangerous Akuma victim. I apologise for taking matters into my own hands, but there was a genuine risk that I would be neutralised before you returned and this Miraculous would have been lost-”

“You don’t need to worry about that anymore.” Ladybug pointedly held out her hand.

Cat Walker gladly pulled the ring from his finger- and Adrien let loose a gasp of relief as the suit peeled away in magic light.

Again there was that little black cat-thing for a second, but Ladybug practically snatched the ring out of his hand and snapped the box closed before it could say anything. Immediately she turned and zipped out the room without another word.

“… Whatever,” Adrien rolled his eyes, then stumbled as his shoes slipped. “Hey- oh *real mature*.”

Mysteriously enough, the water she’d tracked in from before had remained despite the Miraculous Cure.

Oh well. If nothing else good happened that day; Adrien was pretty sure that it would be the last time Ladybug pulled him into playing bait.

—

It happened again, this time after one of Adrien’s fencing classes.

Her was kind of bored really. Kagami had had to go with her Mom to a trip home in Japan, so he was stuck with opponents who couldn’t really stand a hope against him. He was pretty sure it was arrogant to think so, but Adrien’s many medals kind of proved that he was in another league compared to anyone in his school (most of the country in fact, if his records were true).

Whatever else he could say about Gabriel Agreste, the man had raised him to be damn good at sports (or at least paid other people to do so).

Anyway when the Akuma alert rang out, he wasn’t that bothered. That changed a bit when he was marching to the shelter with the other students though, as the others kept babbling about the heroes and Shadowmoth’s minions like it was a spectator sport;

“… Nekomata’s not been out much lately even though Butterfly man’s really been at it.”

“Think she quit?”

“Maybe, but wasn’t Ladybug already using a bunch of different cats? Could be it’s just not her turn or something.”

“Yeah but Neko’s the best of them by far…”

Adrien resisted the urge to groan. It didn’t pay to let people know you weren’t in on the whole ‘Ladybug craze’. But he couldn’t help but absorb information by osmosis anyway.

Nekomata was the name of the most capable Cat Hero since Chat Noir had retired. But she wasn’t seen that often, instead Ladybug had a bunch of others who she switched in and out with the ring on the regular.

There were theories that she was using her other heroes to hold the ring, since certain cat heroes and other regular heroes were never seen in the same battle-

“… What about that other one, the guy with a ponytail?”

“Yeah I heard he was pretty good. Kicked Stormy Weather’s butt all on his own-”

“Yeah but apparently he screwed up so-”

Whatever his fellow fencers might have thought about Adrien’s alter-ego was lost to time as a high pitched squeal ripped through the building;

“Oh Adrien~~” the squeak turned into a sing-song parody of an alluring voice. “I know you’re in here~~.”

Adrien felt the collective turn their ire against him like he’d called the Akuma to their very school, and he knew in his bones if he didn’t leave of his own volition he’d be thrown to the Akuma as tribute.

“Hunh, fangirl Akuma from the sounds of it,” Adrien chuckled with barely hidden nerves, “I should probably leave before they come here looking-”

“THANKSADRIENYOU’REABRAVEMAN!” There was a garble of shouting voices as they ‘gently’ pushed him out of the designated shelter room and locked the door behind them.

“… You could have at least pretended to object,” Adrien sighed.

Still though, he *did* need to get moving if he didn’t want the Akuma to find him and turn him into a living bodypillow or something even worse.

(Out of curiosity he’d once taken a look at some of the mail his fans sent in before his father’s assistant curated it. *Never again*.)

Fortunately for him, this Akuma was relatively easy to evade once he managed a stealthy look at it. Deranged super-powered cosplayer of some sort from her appearance. And unlike Stormy Weather, her feet were firmly planted on the ground as she marched towards the school entrance.

The solution to escaping (literally) unmolested was a simple one then; when Adrien had first come home he’d found one of his room walls covered with a climbing wall that to his surprise he’d been able to scale with inhuman agility from muscle memory alone. And now in the present that muscle-memory served him well as he slipped away from the school, turned the corner and easily scaled one of the buildings nearby.

The handholds were few and far between, but his body handled them with an ease that still surprised him, and within a minute he was resting on a rooftop facing away from the school: safe from any empowered fangirls who might have designs on him.

For five minutes.

Adrien had closed his eyes and leaned back against the roof tiles to try and get some rest (not easy against said roof-tiles and the screaming coming from his school but what else could he do?) when an annoying familiar *zip* caught his attention. He opened his eyelids to find Ladybug suddenly standing above him on the apex point of the roof, well and truly visible for anyone to see.

Adrien stared at her as she stared down at him.

There was another scream from the school as the Akuma probably did something awful.

Ladybug kept staring at him.

Adrien decided to be a good boy and help the hero so she would leave sooner; “the Akuma’s in the school.” He jammed a thumb over his shoulder.

“Yeah, *I know*.”Ladybug apparently wasn’t deaf, because she responded. There was an amused look in her eyes. “She really wants Adrien Agretse-”

“So I’ve heard,” Adrien cut her off with a shudder. “Why do you think I’m hiding here where she can’t get at me?”

“LADYBUG!” The Akuma’s screeched suddenly confirmed that she’d spotted the hero standing in bright red and black polka-dots against the Paris skyline. “GIVE ME YOUR MIRACULOUS SO I CAN KEEP ADRIEN SAFE!”

“You should get going before she comes here.” Adrien politely but pointedly motioned for her to leave.

A nasty smirk appeared on the heroine’s face though and Ladybug folded her arms and rested back on her heels. Clearly not intending to move even as the Akuma’s voice started getting closer.

“*Now* would be good.” Adrien helpfully pointed out.

“Sorry Adrien,” Ladybug ‘sighed’. “This Akuma’s a tricky one. Any time we get close she mind-controls us into Adrien fanatics We need someone to distract her, to keep her *occupied*-”

“Adrein~~~!” The Akuma was very, very close now. “I can *smell you*~~~”

“-Sorry, but we’re going to need you to keep her attention for a bit.” Ladybug suddenly grabbed Adrien’s collar and lifted him supernatural strength, clearly about to show him to the Akuma. “Just for a minute or two-”

“H-hey!” Adrien slipped himself out of his white coat sleeves and scrambled back on the roof, “why don’t you just use another heroes like usual- whoever’s using the cat ring-”

“Nekomata’s out of town and everyone else is occupied.” Ladybug casually tossed his coat over the edge of the roof, and a delighted squeal confirmed that the Akuma had caught it.

“T-then-” Adrien grit his teeth and whispered. “I’ll do it- just give me the ring and I’ll keep her occupied as Cat Walker.”

“Hmm…” Ladybug exaggerated a thinking pose and tapped her chin, “and why should I let you even touch the ring after last time?”

“Because you need *someone* on the Cat and you know I’m ‘good with the ring’, *remember*?” Adrien insisted.

Ladybug probably would have drawn things out more for whatever gratification she was getting (what, did she really hate blond models or something? Clearly she had an issue with him), but the Akuma was getting closer. And luckily for Adrien Ladybug deigned to allow him to defend himself.

“Alright Cat Walker,” she opened up her yo-yo; “just follow my orders this time okay?”

—

The fanatic Akuma was surprisingly strong, but not necessarily a complicated opponent to fight. All it took was another of Ladybug’s strange plans and a few bruises to Cat Walker’s torso and the embarrassed fangirl was purified.

Unfortunately for Adrien, that wasn’t where it ended.

Sure, Ladybug reclaimed the ring as usual; but Shadowmoth was apparently on a spree. Within an hour there was another Akuma rampaging through the streets, and Ladybug showed found Adrien to practically shove the ring on his finger, clearly under the impression that he owed her for not letting using him as bait for the previous Akuma.

And once that Akuma was done and dusted- the same thing happened. Ring off, Ladybug went away- two hours pass and whoops! There’s another Akuma and Ladybug demands Adrien go play punchingbag for the next Magical Malcontent.

And again.

And *again*.

And every day for a full week, Adrien’s life was consumed by a part-time volunteer position under Ladybug. Shadowmoth had obviously noticed Nekomata’s absence and was trying to take advantage

Apparently after Nekomata, Cat Walker *was* Ladybug’s best cat. But Adrien wasn’t entirely certain she wasn’t just leaving him to risk death and dismemberment for her own petty amusement. Because surely Ladybug’s team had more strategies to occupying the Akuma than ‘leave the cat hero to play for time’; but if they did they weren’t letting him on them.

And for all that Adrien chafed at the role, the remembrance of how Ladybug had very nearly used him as live bait quietened his complaints. He’d been critical of Ladybug’s approach long before he used the ring but he’d known that the crowds at school, the whole of Paris even, unconditionally supported the hero and her team. So he’d long since learned to keep his tongue to himself, even when she ruthlessly engaged in collateral damage that surely had to have involved casualties (even if they were later restored).

But there was a different side to Ladybug, at least for him. Because even if she had a use for him, a *need* for him with Nekomata absent; Ladybug *hated* him for some reason.

Not just in some abstract way like his haters on the internet hated the model boy from the magazines, but something deep and personal. He could feel it when she looked at him, how she talked at him. And he was certain that she wasn’t bluffing when she’d offered to throw him to the Akuma and whatever it might do to him.

So upsetting her by turning down the ring when she wanted to use him was a danger that he knew better than to entertain. So Cat Walker accepted his role as it came, and devoted himself to it with all the professional focus of a man who wanted his job to be done as quickly and efficiently as possible.

And it wasn’t all bad, there was a certain satisfaction in a job well done. In keeping Paris safe and successfully defeating one opponent after another. In the end it wasn’t that different from his martial arts, sports and lessons; there were rules to fighting the varied and strange Akuma, patterns to follow and his body seemed to know by instinct what moves to make. The ring was surely helping him, but there was still that thrill of mastering a new, difficult skill or technique that he usually got from reaching a new level with his other studies.

But the novelty of achieving acrobatics and combinations that no human body (even his that was somehow durable enough to take a fall from his room ceiling with little more than a winding) wasn’t quite enough to offset the drawbacks of being Ladybug’s temporary cat;

—

Ladybug’s plans were *insane*. Just utterly insane.

Somehow they always worked, Adrien couldn’t deny that. But more often than not they worked in *spite* of all logic and reason. And that wasn’t just a gripe of a put-upon minion;

There had to be magic at work, because even outside of the charms themselves, there were times when they used mundane objects as part of said plans and they started acting against conventional physics.

One plan had them fight a massive, Ape-like Akuma by restraining them with a fire-hose Lucky Charm. But they’d fastened the rope around a few matching steel poles;

—

“Ladybug!” Cat Walker sharply warned through the earpiece as he dodged yet another strike from the Akuma, letting a pair of medium-sized mice heroines swiftly encircle the wrist of said Akuma with the long hose. “Those poles won’t hold them!”

“Just do your job Cat.” Ladybug retorted through the earpiece.

“I-”

There was a beep as Ladybug cut him off from the main comms.

All he could do was exactly that, draw the Ape-Akuma’s attention while the rest of the team slowly but surely entangle the Ape’s limbs with the hose. The problem was that in while the Lucky Charm seemed to have some magical property that made it unbreakable even with the Akuma’s strength, the flagpoles they were anchoring the hose to were surely going to be torn out the second the rope went taut.

After all, the strength to break stone slabs with ease wasn’t just going to be held back with whatever cheap steel went into making a flagpole.

And yet…

When the time came and Ladybug called out; “PULL!”

The Ape was entrapped in a tight trap, and the flagpoles didn’t so much as *bend* despite the combined tension from multiple heroes and the Ape’s own strength against them. The Wasp hero- Vesperia- dropped in a second later and the battle was over.

(Why hadn’t they just used Vesperia from the start?)

—

A day later, and there was another plan, this time more risky than irrational.

This time it was some kind of bug person who was invulnerable from any point but the top of their head. Again, Cat Walker was on distraction duty while Ladybug pulled together another plan.

This time the Lucky Charm was a drone. A fully functioning drone that Ladybug insisted on flying up on over the Akuma so she could drop down from it while someone else he couldn’t see operated it.

Considering how fast the humanoid bug-thing was, it didn’t seem like a good idea.

Again it seemed like an obvious solution to just have Vesperia paralyze the Akuma, or maybe he could have made a pit to trap the Akuma with the Cataclysm power.

But again, through pure Luck and a well timed verbal barb to get the thing’s attention: it somehow worked out.

—

Finally there was the quiz Akuma, the with the game-based powers that Ladybug decided they would play against.

The victim was a teacher from Dupont, apparently one who was very, *very* done with her students cheating on their tests. She’d turned one of the classes into some facsimile of a gameshow with her students becoming a literal captive audience and was broadcasting it to the whole of Paris.

The Akumatized object was one of the prizes and they have to put up their own Miraculous as collateral to play. Cat Walker didn’t care for game shows in the first place and suggested a direct approach;

“The Akuma appears to have no real combat ability,” Cat Walker observed, “if Vesperia-”

“We’ve gone over this, Vesperia has *one* shot with her power- just like everyone else so we need to make it count!” Ladybug snapped back, “and Akumas like this usually have some trick to stop us from just marching and taking their object!”

Cat Walker stepped back to avoid agitating the clearly irritated heroine. He couldn’t say Ladybug was *wrong*; at this point he was well aware Vesperia’s sting was only effective if the Akuma was too distracted or occupied to dodge her obvious lunges (though really if he were ever asked he’d have to say that it was a *problem* that Vesperia needed so much significant setup from the rest of the team to use her power at all- maybe her Miraculous would have been better suited to someone with better agility and hand-to-hand combat prowess). And he was a novice at Akuma battles so he couldn’t dispute her instincts about the more abstract Akumas.

However…

“I understand Ladybug,” he assured her. “But what is stopping the Akuma from rigging their own game? Is there some rule that the Akuma’s power have to be *fair*?”

“Heh, no.” Ladybug actually laughed at that, then turned to him with a smirk; “but who says *we* have to play fair either?”

Cat Walker raised an eyebrow, “Ladybug?”

“Just put your earpiece in and listen to Viperion,” Ladybug stepped back and pushed Cat Walker towards the classroom.

Viperion as it turned out, was a snake hero and he was with someone who went by ‘Pegasus’ (no prizes to guess his animal theme) who was himself using a laptop. And they were going to help Cat Walker *cheat*.

“Ahh, our first contestant!” The Akuma smiled in her gaudy pinstriped suit. “The Black Cat du jour, such a shame for such a stunning career to be cut so short, but it would be a crime not to see that handsome face on TV!

Just remember, no backing out and no tricks or it’s game over~~” The Presenter turned to her audience, “but don’t worry, you’ll have one of the best seats in town!”

A spotlight magically appeared over an unoccupied seat, in the middle of a sea of very occupied seats holding visibly disturbed and helpless teenagers.

Well, at least Adrien would have company if Ladybug’s plan fell though.

—

The game had four rounds for increasingly more valuable prizes, and by increasingly valuable that meant wonderful things like hall passes, study guides, an honor roll and the actual Akumatized object (an answer sheet). Of course to play, Cat Walker had to be willing to wager his Miraculous every time, and while he didn’t have to take it off he was quite certain that the Akuma’s own magic would claim it if he failed anyway.

Fortunately, the format was easy. Just answer a question correctly, and Cat Walker would advance to the next round. Fail, and Cat Walker instantly lost, no surprises there.

Still, even though the first two questions were easy enough (just obscure trivia tangentially related to Dupont’ curriculum) before Viperion and Pegasus gave him the answers.

Round three is when things became difficult;

“Stop, Cat Walker!” Viperion’s voice was suddenly sharp in his ear- a distinct shift from his easy-going tone a moment ago; “Presenter is going to check you for cheating in a few seconds, you need to get rid of the earpiece!”

Cat Walker’s eyes widened, but recovered as Viperion continued; “I just turned back time, she’ll confiscate your Miraculous in front of Paris!”

“Turn back ti-” Cat Walker caught himself as his gasp caught The Presenter’s attention.

“Turn back *what* Mr Walker?” The Presenter’s eyes focused on him like hawk, “is there something you want to share with the rest of us?”

The Akuma was rapidly approaching, and Cat Walker had no good options-

If the Akuma could take the ring from cheating then fighting would surely count, dropping the earpiece would be too noticeable, he needed a distraction- no, he had to *make* a distraction!

“Oh don’t mind me,” he chuckled, “I was just thinking that I should have turned back home for an umbrella, the weather’s about to make a downpour, it’s a good thing that…”

He pulled his baton from his back and the Akuma’s eyes locked on it, he a pressed a button and…

The tip extended about half a metre into the air to their side.

“Oh…” Cat Walker mumbled.

“Was that supposed to do something?” The Presenter seemed amused.

“I was hoping it would turn into an umbrella,” Cat Walker sighed, and brushed his hand over his ear like he was pushing back a stray hair. “I heard it could do that kind of thing.”

He pressed the same button, and the baton briefly extended again. “Ah, excuse me for a moment,” he brought both hands to the controls and seemed to struggle to compact his own weapon.

“Well it would be bad luck anyway!” The Presented rolled her eyes at his obvious ineptitude. With her attention diverted, Cat Walker nimbly slid the earpiece into baton’s compartment and snapped it closed before replacing it to his back.

Needless to say, The Presenter’s cheat-check a moment later failed to disqualify him.

Round Three was fortunately easy again, at least for him. Just English, and that was one of Adrien’s first languages (at least according to Gabriel Agreste).

Round Four was when things very nearly went awry.

“Alright Mr Walker, you’re clearly a very smart boy,” the Akuma purred and her eyes brightened; “so why don’t you come up and show us how it’s done!”

She stepped aside and whiteboard appeared where she’d been a moment ago, she held out a marker with clear glee.

The Whiteboard showed a deceptively simple equation:

xn+yn=zn

Cat Walker sighed to himself. He’d been correct, the Akuma had no intention of playing fair.

“What’s the matter Mr Walker?” The Present chortled. “It’s just *maths*!”

“I would hardly call Fermat’s Last Theorem ‘just maths’ dear lady.” Cat Walker approached.

“Oh, you *know* what this is?” The Presenter’s eyes gleamed as she held out the marker, “don’t worry I’m *sure* you can solve…”

Her words trailed off as Cat Walker gently took the marker from her hand, and too her absolute shock he started writing letters on the board;

“What are you…?” Her eyes followed the diagram as he drew out a diagram.

“Apologies, but unless you have a larger whiteboard you’ll have to accept this” Cat Walker had no intention of simply giving up, but he’d couldn’t exactly recall a hundred page document of advanced mathematics from memory. “Wiles and Taylor’s proof is a bit wordy.”

It was all presentation. The proof had been but one of Adrien Agreste’s electric collection of interesting documents that his amnesiac self had found (apparently he’d liked obscure trivia), but even with his more than decent mathematical skills he wouldn’t be able crack such a proof without a lifetime of prep. But what he was, was in close range of the Akuma and her prize, and lacking any better options he was certain he could at least try to Cataclysm the gleaming cage just behind her and destroy the answer sheet before she claimed the ring.

But that wasn’t necessary, as the Akuma’s eyes widened; “it… it’s been solved?”

Her voice was weak.

“Yes, quite famously so.” Cat Walker assured her. “You can check me if you like.”

The Presenter closed her eyes, and Cat Walker prepared to pounce, but he was startled as the answer sheet vanished with a glow and appeared in his hands.

“Well, that’s game and match then,” The Presenter chuckled and a wave of dark bubbles washed over her as a butterfly escaped from the sheet.

—

Ladybug’s plans worked.

Somehow.

Somehow they *always* worked. Even when they were needlessly risky, implausible, or just impractical.

Even when they *shouldn’t.*

Just how much of Paris’ safety was dependent on Ladybug’s good luck carrying them?

What would happen if that luck ran out?

[alexa-yukiyu]

Could it be possible to request doflamingo reaction to him finding out through his spies or Ceasar that he has a daughter ? I think it's a 50/50 with him like I can totally see him going out to bring her to him. The 50/50 comes to the way he'd treat her. She is a Donquixote after all. Idk with how things ended with Cora if he would be gentle with her. Or just end up trying to using her in some scheme? If you don't have any ideas for how the story should go? Maybe Law and the strawhats learn about her? Maybe she's scared of the family and outsiders and they try and help her?

Broken Bonds (Doflamingo x f!teen!reader)

A/N so I got these request, and I kinda merged them together to make this piece, Doflamingo is problabky Ooc here simply because that ass wouldn’t be soft but we have the power to change that ✊🏽Maybe a cook?? Maybe, maybe a sizzle.

Reader here is replaced by the placeholder, Dokusha which means reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

“Let go of me, idiot,” she growled, sending a swift kick to the guard that was currently holding her down

Dokucha had chosen to take on a mission on Dressrosa despite Sabo’s and Koala’s concerns. In the end, they understood that this was something she needed to do. And so she set off to begin gathering information on the Kingdom. However, the mission quickly turned wrong as she was caught trying to sneak into the castle. Now, she found herself being brought to the very man she was supposed to collect information on

Doflamingo sighs, swiftly wrapping strings around the teen to prevent her from further attacking his guards

“Leave,” he ordered, glaring at the guards, who nodded and made a quick exit from the throne room

She refused to look at him, instead focusing her attention on the strings wrapped around her limbs, glaring at them and tentatively pulling at them

“You’ve grown.”

“I'm surprised you recognize me,” she quips back, giving up on messing with the strings and turning to glare at him

“Of course, I still remember the little girl who was stolen from me.” Doflamingo’s lips slightly curved upwards

“I would hardly call it stolen; Uncle Corazon saved me that day, saved me from you.”

“From me?” He said in a soft tone and smirked

“I’ve never harmed you.”

“Who knows what would have happened if I stayed? Maybe I would have become another puppet of yours, or maybe you would have killed me like you did Uncle Cora.”

“I wouldn’t have harmed you; after all, you were still my kin.”

“He was also your kin, your own brother!” she growls at him, a frown growing on her face

“He was a weak-willed, useless fool,” Doflamingo said, showing no hesitation in belittling his dead brother

“Besides, he was the one who went against me; all I did was take care of my problem.”

“Shut up, you don’t get to slander his name!”

“you never met him; you were a baby, so how would you know anything about him?”

“Law told me about him; he never forgot about him, and he told me all about him and you.”

Doflamingo frowned,

“So that boy brainwashed you, didn’t he?”

“You were the one who brainwashed him, and it would have worked if Corazon had not saved him back then.”

“Law was weak, and he paid for it,” Doflamingo said carelessly before standing up and walking toward her

“Law is not weak; he is one of the strongest men I know, something you will never be; he raised me; I got to be a strong independent woman; I got to join the Revolutionary Army to take down assholes like you.”

“You’re still a child who has no understanding of how the world around you works,” he said, getting closer to her

“And you’re still a tyrant who thinks the world revolves around you.”

“Do you really think you’re free? The only reason you aren’t in my dungeons is because you are my daughter, the one that was taken away from me.”

“Oh, how kind of you,” she sneers, sarcasm dripping from her words

“Come back home; there is a throne waiting for you,” he said, placing his hand on her cheek, cradling her face

“What? What are you on about?”

“You would be the princess of the Dressrosa kingdom; what’s so bad about coming back?”

“Like I would come home to a murderer like you,” she said, pulling her head away

“But I’ve never hurt you; I’ve never laid a finger on you,” he said, his voice soft and sincere

“You killed him,” she cried

“You expect me to come home after what you did to him? After what you did to Law?”

“That was a punishment, one he got for betraying me; he knew the consequences of his actions,” Doflamingo said, ignoring her mention of Corazon

“How could you say something like that?”

“Because it’s the truth,” he said, “he knew what would happen if he betrayed me.”

“I loved him, but all he did was betray me, and he got what he deserved.”

“He didn’t deserve to die! You made his life hell from the moment he was small, so how could he not try to bring you down?!”

Doflamingo chuckled,

“I just did what I had to do; I never mistreated him; in fact, he was the closest person to me until he turned on me.”

“Are you going to say the same about Law?”

“Yes,” he said, his tone remained the same and calm

She shakes her head, tears sprouting in her eyes. How could someone think that way of their own family, of a child? As she grew older, Law began to disclose more and more of what had occurred between the three of them, and every time, she grew more saddened as to the harsh life both Law and Corazon had to endure due to Doflamingo

“They were right,” she cries

“I was hoping, wishing that maybe, just maybe, you had changed, but you are just as they described a monster.”

Doflamingo stayed silent, his face a blank canvas with no expression to decipher

His hand returned to her cheek as he listened to her, beginning to move his thumb across it, caressing it and wiping her tears off her face

He sighs, removing the strings keeping her in place

“Come home,” he said, his voice softened, looking at her with soft eyes

She shakes her head, pulling his hand away from her

“This is not home.”

He sighs again, allowing her to step back from him

“It seems no matter what I say, you will not listen to me, not in this state. Go to your room, rest, and we will discuss this tomorrow.”

“My room?” She seethes

“There is no room for me here; I do not live here, nor will I; if you think I'm just going to stay and play at home with you are wrong.”

He lets out a hum at that, a smirk growing on his face

“Perhaps not, but at the end of the day, you are still a prisoner here, so you don’t get a say on what I tell you to do.”

She opens her mouth to protest once again, but is stopped as one of the maids of the castle gently takes her hand.

“Bring her to her room for the night; I’ll send for her tomorrow,” Doflamingo commanded the maid

Despite how disgusted she felt at having to sleep under the man's roof, to accept anything he was giving her, she would need the strength if she wanted to fight down. As she was, she was simply no match for him, so she really didn’t have any other options

She glares at him, allowing the maid to pull her away

“This is not over.”

He chuckled at that, his smile a sharp one compared to the softness he had presented earlier

“I never said it was,” he said before waving her farewell as she was removed from the throne room

Okay let’s ignore the fact that Koala and Sabo, nor anyone in the revolutionary army would ever let a teen just wander off in a mission to spy such a dangerous person alone, and let’s also ignore the fact also wouldn’t just let a teen leave alone to join the revolutionaries until they were grown up 👍🏼 Gotta make the story happen ya’ll

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

[maximotts]

she hates her ⁘ w. maximoff x n. romanoff

brainrot is real and dangerous! This time it manifested in the idea of an enemies to lovers WandaNat AU in which sorority president Wanda and fraternity president Natasha simply can't stand one another, but Nat finds Wanda's weakness and exploits the fuck out of it. I'm planning to write more of them so I hope you all love these sillies in their enemies phase! P.S. if you know why I named this AU what I did, you're a real one 💖

Seven Things AU. masterlist :: Natasha lives to annoy Wanda so naturally, she plans the Spring Barbeque Night on the lawn of Wanda's sorority without asking and counts down the seconds until she comes down to complain

wc: 4k cw: 18+ only, minors DNI. warnings are clearly labeled, please don't add community filters. sorority!Wanda x fraternity!Natasha. smut. oral (n receiving). strap on sex (w receiving). cum strap. copious insults/hate sex. rough play/manhandling. overstimulation. degradation/humiliation. nat has a seriously filthy mouth and calls wanda lots of names. internal discussions of aftercare.

Wanda hated Natasha Romanoff.

She hated her messy red hair and the cocky way she walked around campus, how unshakably full of herself she always was, no matter how much of an asshole she was being any given moment. And she was constantly an ass, a chronic headache from the first day Wanda met her last year…

Currently Wanda hated Natasha’s heavy boots kicking her knees apart each time she moved them together even an inch.

“You want to get off on sucking my dick so bad, it’s pathetic.” Nat couldn’t stop her long groan and didn’t want to, grip tightening in Wanda’s loosely curled hair as she inched her strap further down the other girl’s throat.

If someone told her last month she’d have the most annoying girl she knew knelt in front of her like this, Natasha would’ve laughed them off; they could barely coexist in a room for more than a few minutes without one of them going off on the other.

They’d found a compromise in fucking each other speechless; mostly Wanda who, for all her holier-than-thou attitude towards the other woman, found herself repeatedly powerless for hidden quickies with Natasha.

Wanda could only claw at Natasha’s thighs, any possible harm dulled by the denim jeans Nat didn’t bother removing. She’d add how stupidly brutish Nat was to her ever-growing list of grievances if it didn’t turn her on so damn much.

The moment the fabric of her harness brushed Wanda’s cheek, they both shivered.

“I’m gonna assume no one’s managed to fuck this pretty mouth of yours this deep yet,” the redhead ground her hips against Wanda’s face slowly, letting her head roll back against the door, willfully ignorant to any discomfort the girl before her endured, “or maybe you’re too much of a bitch for anyone else to bother trying.”

Natasha let up and Wanda growled, disgusted gaze glaring daggers at her tormentor. “You don’t have anyone else to screw with, or have all the girls in town grown tired of your womanizer routine?”

“Fuck’s sake, shut up.” Shoving her forward was all too easy with Wanda caught off guard, burying her tip at the back of her throat so roughly Wanda gagged. Nat drove her hips back and forth at a brutal pace, laughing at the brunette’s sputtering, “That’s it, choke on my cock…”

The two were both too stubborn to break eye contact, Wanda’s wide green eyes watering with embarrassment and Natasha shamelessly getting off to her struggle.

She fucked her steadily, both hands now fisted in Wanda’s hair, the poor girl’s face growing pinker every second as she fought to hide just how much being used like this turned her on. It was no use, the sticky mess of the sorority president’s lip gloss and spit leaving kisses on her fraternity counterpart’s harness, sending Wanda into a dizzying frenzy of arousal that wrenched in the pit of her stomach- and lewdly dripped onto Natasha’s boot.

Oh how Natasha wished her phone wasn’t discarded on Wanda’s nightstand; she’d give anything to have photo evidence of their university’s golden student drooling on her strap and trying desperately to rub herself on her laces. “I bet if I shot a load down your throat you’d cum on the spot… wanna try?”

Nat finally let Wanda take a breath, yanking her away in favor of taking the thick toy in her hand, tapping the head onto the brunette’s already waiting tongue as she nodded desperately. She hadn’t bought this toy for anyone particular, never got much use out of it until she stumbled into Wanda’s secret a few weeks ago; now it was quickly becoming her favorite possession.

An accidentally perfect object to drive Wanda insane.

“Are you gonna let us keep our party on your lawn?”

The question snapped Wanda back to attention, suddenly aware of Natasha’s ulterior motives. There was a strange pang of hurt she felt, only for the briefest of seconds, to know what she was being used for, but it quickly morphed into keen anger. “Absolutely not! Go camp out with someone who actually likes you.”

“Stubborn bitch,” Nat muttered, knocking Wanda backwards. She was unsteady enough for her back to hit the floor with a painful thud, wincing as she met the hard wood of her bedroom. Admittedly, maybe that was a little too harsh, Natasha’s hand reaching out to inspect the girl before she caught herself, remembered who they were to one another, and her originally thoughtful touch became a slap for Wanda’s calf.

In an instant she was kneeling, dragging Wanda’s strawberry printed pajama shorts off to get a good look at her handiwork. They were still new to one another, having only really fallen into rage-fueled quickies, this was Natasha’s first time seeing the full effect she had on Wanda and damn if it wasn’t more intoxicating than all the beers she’d drunk tonight combined. “Pretty mouth and pussy, no wonder I’ve heard you’re good to fuck around with.”

Wanda rolled her eyes, doing her best to tamp down how hot she felt being openly inspected like this, ignoring the sparks she felt as Natasha’s hands parted and pawed at her bare thighs. “Don’t be gross, you pass yourself around more in one weekend than I’ve done my entire life.”

“So I know what I’m doing, Maximoff. Don’t forget I almost made you cum without a single touch just now.” If she cared enough Nat would’ve asked her how many people she actually had been with. Wanda had a reputation for being a tease of epic proportions, flirting cruelly with no intent of following through or, if you’re lucky, getting you off, but for as much gossip Nat heard, she couldn’t think of anyone who could say they’d slept with her.

In truth, the girl was picky, refusing to let anyone get farther than she thought she’d enjoy just as much as they did. Unfortunately Natasha not only met that standard, but rose far above it— the only reason she tolerated her insufferable nature each time they ended up like this. “But I didn’t finish, so get on with it. You’re already starting to bore me- ow!”

The last thing Wanda expected was a slap, stinging and wet, between her legs.

“Whenever you speak, you bore me, but I’m still here…” Her strap slid through the other girl’s cunt effortlessly, the weight of it offering the barest bit of much needed friction, but where Wanda raised her hips, Natasha held them down.

When the tip rested at Wanda’s waiting entrance, the shallowest of motions left her biting her lip to keep from begging. She couldn’t admit how badly she wanted this, how intensely she fought not to wrap her legs around Natasha and take the whole of her all by herself, to sate the persistent empty feeling she’d had since Nat pulled their hips together down on the lawn… “And you’re only here to get the answer you want so go ahead, try and convince me.”

Nat was too selfish to give Wanda time to adjust, pushing inside inch by inch while the girl below her gasped and balled her fists at her sides, too arrogant to grab onto Natasha’s stupid toned arms. But bottoming out felt like mutual heaven and as Wanda felt that cool, rough denim rub under her thighs, she gave in and let her legs clamp about her waist.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight,” Nat muttered, drawing out slowly just to surge forward, quickly setting a pace so brutal Wanda couldn’t hope to keep up. “Would’ve let you use your fingers before if I’d known…”

“N-No,” Wanda shook her head, eyes fluttering closed. She hated having to get this from someone she couldn’t stand, body betraying her in the presence of the person she wanted to be miles away from, but she forced her brain to submit along with the rest of her, taking her pleasure in a world where Natasha wasn’t a daily thorn in her side.

She needed to feel overwhelmed, overtaken, out of control— Natasha was the only person bold enough to give her what she was after. And she planned to use it to her full advantage. “No? Does perfect princess Wanda need to be fucked like a filthy slut?”

The woman was a mess of moans, doing her best to ignore Nat until calloused fingers gripped her jaw and yanked her back to reality. “Open your eyes, I want you to watch me fuck you dumb.”

When their eyes met again, Wanda’s pupils were blown wide, flushed cheeks pinched together under Nat’s grasp, “I asked you a question, answer me or I’ll leave you here and let everyone outside know you’re locked in your room with your fingers deep in your tight cunt, dreaming of my dick.”

Natasha really wished Wanda wasn’t so fucking pretty with her breathy pants and tousled hair framing her face like a halo; it made sex so much harder not giving the girl exactly what she wanted. “Just fuck me, Romanoff. You have a party to get back to.”

“I do? So you’ll let us stay?” Wanda nearly threw a fit when Natasha stopped again, the thought of being denied twice in one night enough to leave her whining. She was someone people rarely said no to, things simply fell into place for her as she wished, but challenging, thick-headed Natasha… dealing with her was akin to rolling a boulder single-handed.

“Yes, yes fine! Keep your crappy party! Let me cum and you can stay the night for all I care-“ Her eyes were wide open now, focused enough to take in Natasha’s shit-eating grin before she pounded into her once more, faster and more determined now that she’d won.

The redhead never had trouble in bed, satisfying whoever she fell into bed with effortlessly; she was reluctant to admit it’d grown repetitive. So when she ran into a drunk and mopey Wanda stumbling down the hall of her fraternity a few weeks back and cornered her with intention to mock her nighttime walk of shame, Natasha was morbidly curious to hear her confess how sexually unsatisfied she was with such plain honesty.

She couldn’t have predicted Wanda ever being in her room, much less sprawling on her bed like she belonged there and bemoaning her plight. “Is it so hard to just cum on my face? You’d think they’d be excited, but nooo all I get is ‘are you sure that’s what you want?’ Of course I’m sure!”

Natasha was so rarely speechless, but of all possible statements, she’d never expected that one.

Maybe they wouldn’t have happened if Wanda’s guard wasn’t lowered by alcohol. If Natasha hadn’t been standing at the foot of the bed in gray sweatpants that so poorly hid the strap she’d been packing, matching sports bra showing off her toned stomach while she proudly proclaimed she’d have no issue granting Wanda what she was after. If Wanda hadn’t crawled across the mattress to Nat and kissed the taut skin right below her navel before taking those cotton pants between her teeth and pulling, staring Natasha down with a ferocity she never imagined would make her feel anything but a primal rage-

But that night played out as it did and now they were here, another evening spent indulging each other in acts they couldn’t ask of anyone else.

Wanda didn’t announce how close she was, didn’t give Natasha the satisfaction of knowing just how good of an orgasm she’d given her— the woman above her still knew. She’d heard Wanda cry out for her before and she’d already come this far: Natasha wouldn’t stop until she had Wanda begging. “You’re supposed to say thank you when I’m nice to you.”

“In your dreams, playboy.”

Fighting words were routine, but the glob of spit landing on Natasha’s cheek colored her vision red. For a moment, the tension in the air felt too thick, bedroom eerily quiet as Nat’s grip flexed into the plush thighs spread before her, clenched jaw only accentuating her dangerous glare. Maybe Wanda would be afraid if she hadn’t hit the exact nerve she’d aimed for.

“Brats like you never behave for long, huh?” Dragging Wanda across the floor, Natasha rammed into still recovering sex, cupping the back of her knee and forcing her leg into her chest while the other stayed trapped against the wood. The new angle was deeper than Wanda had ever been treated to and her choked sob alone almost made up for Natasha being spit on.

Almost.

“Always such an insufferable… ungrateful…” She grumbled, losing her train of thought as her focus dropped down, suddenly fixated on the now drenched toy at her hips stretched around Wanda’s tight hole, ever growing mess close to dripping onto her ass.

Wanda wasn’t new to people staring at her, most days it boosted her already impressive confidence levels, but the way Natasha watched, always sizing her up like prey to be hunted and devoured, that was different. When she wasn’t looking at her with apathy it was contempt, anything to remind Wanda she wasn’t infallible as she thought she was, but this —Natasha so obviously getting off to her, so desperately rocking her pelvis against Wanda’s whenever she bottomed out in search of friction— made the brunette feel craved.

“What’s the matter, run out of insults?” Nat hadn’t noticed her mouth hanging open until it felt dry, snapping out of her lustrous thoughts to lick her full lips. Seconds from verbal retort, she decided on a better course, one equally as selfish as Wanda’s earlier orgasm: she could very easily knock the girl down some much needed pegs while making it worth her time.

“Just wondering how a spoiled little cumslut like you thinks it’s in your best interest to mouth off.” Wanda didn’t have time to be taken aback, Natasha’s sudden change of angle driving her round tip into that elusive spot deep inside over and over; she cursed her drunken self babbling to her rival that she was the only person, including herself, to find it.

“Shit, Romanoff, slow down-!” She thought for sure Natasha wouldn’t remember, had her pegged as the type of lover who had to learn everything over each time, but no, Nat was the opposite and now she knew too much.

“Shut your mouth and play with your tits.” The command was blunt, powerful enough in its delivery that Wanda didn’t question, shaky hands sliding under her shirt while she struggled not to finish her second time unexpectedly early.

She was slow in her touches, too slow for Natasha’s energetic pace, and the loose cotton fabric hid the view; two things Nat instantly got tired of. “Get your damn shirt out of the way, and I don’t want any of your silly shy shit- I told you to play with them.”

Wanda would kill Nat if she ever told a soul she whimpered, would deny having clenched around Nat in response to her exerting control… still she wrenched her shirt over her head as quick as she could and her hands flew back to her chest. She forced her eyes to stay open, smugly committing the sight of Natasha panting in time with her thrusts, light green eyes glued to Wanda’s fingers teasing her dusty pink nipples into hardness.

“You’re such a creep, I bet you’ll be jerking off to this for weeks,” she mumbled, pinching the sensitive peaks between her thumb and forefinger, moaning louder than intended as she matched Natasha’s motions.

Nat huffed, couldn’t bother denying that yes, she would definitely be thinking about Wanda spread wide open and touching herself for a long time. Her partner would to, though, mind wandering to Natasha ordering her around next time she found herself alone and needy.

Wanda made the mistake of watching Nat’s tongue swipe over her lips, traitorous brain wondering what the smooth muscle would feel like instead of her chilly fingertips, how warm and wet her mouth would be if she ever dared to suck—

This time when the dam broke, she was too distracted to censor herself, back arching and body trembling uncontrollably. If Nat’s focus had lapsed for just two seconds she would’ve missed Wanda utter her name, soft and breathy, syllables stuttered as if she pronounced it for the first time. “Aww poor princess, was that too much for you?”

“Go fuck yourself…” The words were weak, embarrassingly so, and Natasha didn’t hesitate to laugh at her attempt.

“Already working on it, smartass,” Nat didn’t falter for a second through Wanda’s second high, meeting wave after wave as the girl finally stopped pretending she didn’t want this just as much and raised her hips with each thrust.

The redhead had long since made a mess of her own underwear, sticky wetness coating the base of her strap to aid her now desperate grinding into Wanda, rubbing her neglected sex against the textured silicone. She wouldn’t last much longer, not when Wanda insisted on mewling so maddeningly, freshly manicured nails digging into Natasha’s sides as she fought overstimulation.

“You’re being too rough-!” Wanda couldn’t stand the sound of her own voice knowing once again it was Natasha who’d rendered her so vulnerable, but this was always her favorite part, being used and treated so carelessly; the thing she and Nat never properly talked about, but knew she needed.

“But I’m so close, don’t you want me to stuff your pretty little cunt?” Nat taunted, bending over so she could kiss Wanda’s temple. “I think you’ve almost been a nice enough fuck tonight to earn it.”

“God, just do it!” Nat was humping against her so hard it hurt, but then the dull sting ebbed in place of a new sensation -two deft fingers rolling over her swollen clit- and Wanda could only briefly process she was well and truly done for before her mind melted away.

“So demanding for someone so needy… try asking nicely.” Fortunately for Natasha’s rapidly approaching orgasm, Wanda didn’t have it in her to fight anymore, submitting with a barely audible please. “Please what, you know what I wanna hear.”

Wanda could slap herself for being so weak later, maybe when she took a shower and realized how she actually loved being made to beg so helplessly. “Please Natasha, please please, I want you to cum in me!”

“Good girl, there’s those perfect manners,” Nat came with a series of grunts, jerkily rutting while she filled Wanda like she’d been thinking of doing since she stomped out of her house and tried to break up their party.

She’d been so angry, shouting and pointing her finger in everyone’s faces, treating her and her friends like they were rowdy kids. The others mumbled apologies, deferring to Wanda like the figurehead she decided she was, but Natasha loved a challenge, especially one she’d planned on having after purposefully planting themselves on the sorority lawn. Nat wasn’t scared of Wanda, not before this arrangement and certainly not after; now she knew exactly how to fix any argument that popped up.

When Natasha finally pulled out, there was a dampness to the front of her shirt and jeans and again, she wanted to reach over for her camera. Instead she settled for sliding her hands to where Wanda was red and oh so wet, abused hole fluttering as their combined arousal leaked out. It seemed a shame to let it go to waste on the floor, two fingers collecting what’d escaped and, much to Wanda’s exhausted surprise, pushing it back in.

“I’m too sensitive for that…” Twisting away was futile, Natasha still firmly planted between her thighs. She had half a mind to kick her until she saw Nat’s free hand angling her cock down, painting Wanda’s lower half with thick ropes of cum while her thumb nudged her hardened bud, and dull throbs of new arousal twisted her stomach into cramps. “Stop-!”

The pleasure in it was fleeting, the pain of exhaustion winning out, but it wasn’t until she sobbed pitifully that Natasha finally glanced up at Wanda’s anguished face and backed off. “Shit, I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

“I’m fine…” Wanda refused to entertain the idea that any bit of Nat’s concern was real; if she dwelled long enough, she’d ruin her afterglow with too many conflicting thoughts. It didn’t matter if the redhead actually cared anyways, her touch, now slowly smoothing over Wanda’s sore hips, started to burn as Wanda came back to her senses. “Just get your hands off me, idiot.”

Natasha could’ve pushed and maybe if it was someone she was supposed to care about she would’ve, but her worry swerved towards brushing off Wanda’s rejection, defaulting back to what they did best: hate each other. “A greedy whore and a squirter, probably a crier too if I bed you on the right day… better hope your secrets are safe with me, princess.”

Her heart dropped thinking about her sex life becoming the latest gossip, but she could only feebly push her away, head twisting to the side just so she could look anywhere but Natasha and her insolent self. “Well you’ve got to have some kind of funny story to tell everyone when you go back the party. I know you’re always low on those.”

Eventually she managed sitting up, stretching out her back and arms, inadvertently giving Natasha one last unobstructed view of her before retrieving her discarded t-shirt and putting it back in place. “Or you could crack open another beer and share how you drool like a baby every time you see my tits, that’s a conversation starter for sure.”

Needing a soft surface for her now aching body, Wanda clumsily climbed into bed, unceremoniously using Nat’s shoulder to lean on as she maneuvered. True, Natasha tended to kiss and tell, but something about doing the same to Wanda felt wrong, at least to be as detailed as she typically was. Maybe it was just the pride she got from being the only person Wanda’s actually fucking; she wanted to keep that for herself.

“Could always come back downstairs with me and we’ll tell them together.” Natasha didn’t need much clean up, zipping her jeans back and standing awkwardly next to Wanda’s now prone form. Neither of them knew how to handle the ‘after’ yet, Nat’s tendency to check in on even her most casual of partners always ignored by Wanda who knew she’d undoubtedly needed that care but couldn’t stomach the possibility of being one in a string of partners.

So they avoided it as much as possible. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’d ever be seen anywhere with you, playboy.”

Wanda felt a different kind of yearning just then, one that dared her to give Nat the option to stay and her cheeks flushed all over again. Her solution was rolling over until her back was to Natasha, steeled herself to stay that way until she was left alone.

Nat sighed, long and audibly irritated, pondering the pros and cons of offering to do something together up here, a calm, private thing where she could sate that instinct to watch over Wanda without explicitly doing just that… but it’d require admitting she wouldn’t mind hanging out with Wanda and she did not want that.

“Sorry, I should’ve said if you wanted to take a night off of being an impossible bitch, you can actually try to enjoy yourself.”

The door closed behind her and Wanda could breathe again, flopping onto her back and staring at the ceiling. She felt empty and not only between her legs; unfortunately for Wanda, Natasha was no longer around to take her frustrations out on. “Stupid asshole..”

Eventually her night ended dangerously close to feigning some illness to lure Natasha’s attention back when she fell asleep and Nat’s, uncharacteristically leaving her party alone with the excuse of having forgotten her phone on the Wanda’s nightstand. She certainly didn’t use the opportunity to see Wanda again, surveying her sleep before pulling a blanket over the brunette’s shivering form.

[roseodelle]

Arcane Pt2 - Eris Vanserra x Unnamed OC

Eris’s best kept secret is infiltrated.

No use of y/n

WC: 1326

Warnings: Angst, Violence

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

The forest is charred. Their wards are broken, and the glamours have fallen. The cottage is in shambles. Once a beautiful home for them both, smoke now drifts upward from the rubble. Trampled are the flowers and vegetable garden she’d tended to dearly for so many years. The smell makes him sick to his stomach, and he falls to his knees. There’s nothing left.

His chest heaves, his hands gripping and pulling at his short red hair. Tears begin to fall from his face as reality sets in and the sobs begin. It’d happened so quickly. In his quarters of the Forest House one moment, standing above his beheaded brothers the next. Beron will be after him; he knows. He’ll send the hounds and guards before he himself comes to smite him down. He has minutes, if that. He’d killed his brothers. He’d have killed his father, too, if he didn’t know better. But while Eris was strong, Beron was stronger.

Her body... her body lay ahead of him in the destruction of their home. What will Beron do to her, even in death, he wonders? He won’t find out. He will not let Beron desecrate her further. She deserves dignity in her death, and he will give it to her. His love. His grace. His empathy and compassion. His brilliance. His mate. He failed her. How didn’t he know? Why didn’t he feel the intrusion on the ward? Why didn’t he feel her through the bond? Why didn’t she call for him? Why leave her side of the bond closed to him, even near death? Why shield him from his failure, from her pain and fear?

Rising from the scorched earth, he takes an unsteady step forward. His right foot lands on a shard of stained glass that once belonged to the beautiful front door. She’d been so proud to have found it. A great discovery: a decrepit old wooden door with a stained glass window. His chest tightens again. He wasn’t here. He wasn’t here. With uneven steps, he walks through the rubble. The sitting room was once such a beautiful space. They’d spent so many hours and so many years together in that room. Once lively shades of green and orange are now a burnt charcoal gray. The kitchen was the same. Only the innermost walls of the home still stand as he makes his way down the hall.

He needs to find her. He dreads finding her. He tries again to tug on that string, that bright orange thread, tying them together. Nothing. He feels nothing. Minutes, he reminds himself. He has minutes until the sentries come. Before Beron comes with vengeance. 

Their bedroom lay just a few steps ahead. The door was broken, leaning sideways on it’s hinges. The smell is stronger here. Putrid death mixes with the remaining scent of his life. Only faint hints of jasmine and sage rise above the remnants of an angry, relentless flame. The scent of his brother was a bitter aftertaste. He marches on.

Their bed was left unmade. The lxurious golden sham is now a horrid black. Down pillows burned to a crisp. Intricate woodwork smolders, and her scent is stronger here, but he still can’t see her. He passes their bed and her vanity. Flower pots and dirt litter the floor, and the burgundy rug he found on a trip to Adriatta is torn into shreds. She’d put up a fight. Good girl. His chest heaves, vomit rises in his throat, and he shakes his head, steadying himself again. He needs to get her out and take her somewhere Beron cannot find her. Where he cannot do her more harm. Where she can rest.

He finds her in the closet. She’s curled inward on herself, her beautiful dress bloody and torn. Her back is still, and the familiar rise and fall of her breath are nonexistent. She’s gone. She’s gone. She’s gone. He’s shaking again, tears burning his cheeks. Unsteady hands reach toward her burned body. The skin of her back was blistered and damaged beyond repair. There’s so much blood. From her face to her chest, her arms, and her legs. She’s covered in cuts and burns. His sobs become stronger and louder as he reaches for her. She’s not breathing.

“My love.” He brokenly whispers, begs, and pleads with her as he pulls her destroyed body into his arms. He turns her face toward him. Unmarred by the fire of his brother. Her eyes remain closed, the stillness of her chest breaking his soul into pieces. He rests his cheek on hers, his tears making their home on her skin. 

“My love, please. Please wake up.” He chokes back a sob, running his hand along her arm and along her spine in an effort to wake her, but he knows. He knows she’s gone.

“Please. Come back to me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He’ll die here, he decides. How could he take his place as High Lord without her by his side? Let Beron strike him down. Let his father's fire end his life as he holds his mate in his arms. He’d die with her. He leans down, pressing a chaste kiss to her cold lips, and he closes his eyes. Let him die here.

Two hundred years. Two hundred years of safety. Serenity. Peace. Over. All over. His heavy sobs shake his shoulders and shake the still body in his arms, and as he holds her tighter, he still runs his hands over her arm and back. His hand finally rests on her wrist, checking for a pulse he knows he won’t find. 

“I’m so sorry, my love. I’m so sorry.” He repeats until the words run together in an incomprehensible mumble, his fingers digging too tightly into her wrist, hoping to feel something he knows he will not. He wasn’t here. He didn’t protect her. For two hundred years, he’d kept her safe. It wasn’t enough. He had failed her. 

His breath stalls in his throat, eyes widening in shock. Denial floods through him as he tugs again at the bond that remains silent, but he felt it. It was so faint, so faint, but it was there. Her pulse.

“My love, my love, please.” He straightens, pulling her tighter to his chest and forcing her face toward his once again. Her beautiful eyes remain closed, but he feels it again. It's so faint, but it’s there. She lives.

His demeanor shifts, his mask falling into place as he assesses the situation anew. She’s mortally wounded. She will not live, not unless she receives help he cannot give her. Cannot provide for her. Not with Beron’s sentries so close behind him. Minutes, he reminds himself. He has but a few minutes with her before they come for him. Before Beron comes from her. Seconds, he amends, another faint pulse coming through much later than the last.

He’s on the border of three courts. He has two options. He can beg for sanctuary in the Summer court. Tarquin is known to be just and kind. But Beron will follow. Beron will follow him across Prythian. Tarquin would not be able to provide the safety or care she requires. Nor Kalias in the Winter Court, who would likely attempt to freeze Eris on sight. 

There is only one true option, he realizes. The Night Court sees Eris as the ruthless, conniving killer he made sure he was known as, but his mate was not like him. Not like the mask he wore. The mask he perfected over two hundred years to protect her. Tensions between Eris and the court were harsh on both sides, but it may be the only place Beron will not follow.

It’s the only option, he knows. And as another weak pulse graces his fingertips and the rustle of leaves alerts him to the first sentry sent for him, he knows what he must do.

[simp2537]

Project SS

a/n: This is my first 100 series and I’ve had it in mind for a while. I haven’t read the books and there gonna be a few canon divergences. But I hope y’all enjoy.

Word Count : 1.7k

Series Trigger Warnings: Mentioned S/A on another character, depression, self-harm, anxiety, experimentation on children, abusing relationships, murder, blood, gore, unwilling amputations?

Chapter One

It was cold.

Too cold, my cell was at the furthest ends of the ark. Complete solitary confinement was where I’d been forced to stay. As I laid on the cold ground of the cell I stared up at the ceiling. 

The once dull piece of shrapnel had been sharpened. I’d long since carved out the constellations onto the roof. I gently traced the small scars left in my left arm and wrist, the blade I’d made still hadn’t been taken from me.

Maybe that dickhead of a Chancellor wanted me to slit my wrist. Let Kane find me bathing in pools of my own blood, it would free him of his mistakes. As I twirls the blade in my hands it nicked at the skin of my hands. 

It didn’t hurt anymore, nothing really did. 

Soft vibrations echoed down my hall as I sat up. I shoved the knife into my boot and pull down my sleeve. As I rolled my shoulders back the door slammed open. The outside worlds was filled with screams of the other teen prisoners.

His footsteps entered slowly as he knelt in front of me. I kept my eyes closed as I listened to the clocking of the guards guns and all the chains they brought in.

“Hey firecracker,” Kane paused as he knelt in front of me. I sighed softly as I held my arms up, ready to be covered in chains. After a few moments he grabs my arms and looks at my wrist.

I would imagine this hurt him, honestly I wasn’t sure. He was my father but I’d never felt connected to him. Maybe it was because I was raised in the lab and closed off sector. Maybe it was because Alice had sold me away. Maybe because I knew he couldn’t love me.

He pressed his forehead to my wrists, I could feel a tear of two slip from his eyes. Pity must have covered my face as the guards slowly began to covered me in chains. 

After I was practically dress in silver he motioned for them to pause before placing the mask over my face. He pulled me in close, his arms around me. I froze, my muscles tensed up. He placed a kiss to my temple as he gave me a final squeeze. 

“I love you.”

I was hauled to my feet before I could speak and a muzzle was placed on my mouth. I tried to pull away, fight them off but these guards held my chains firmly. They were weighting me down but I was stronger than this. 

I should be able to break each and every chain but…. I’m tired. So tired. I look back at him, my eyes pleading for him to understand. He’s familiar to me at least, I know when he’s mad or happy. I know his ticks and quirks by heart.

“I love you too dad.”

I’m pulled further and further away from him. I’m pained into a shuttle with all the other 100, their eyes all fall upon me as I’m chains to my seat. I internally grown as they pull the needle filled with a sleep drug. 

I glare up at the guard about to inject me. Does he even know where my vein in, his hands are quivering. I rolled my eyes as the shuttle moves slightly and the guard practically runs away. 

I huff softly as I lean back against the seat. I can hear everyone else being to whisper.  My god I’m tired of this shit.

“Isn’t that the girl who killed twenty guards by herself?”

“I heard she has a metal leg.”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes as they carried in the very much unconscious Clarke. I chuckled softly as Wells turned to his ex best friend. 

As the shuttle began to drop down shaking Clarke awoke and began to yell at Wells. I quickly began to rip her chains off. Each hitting the ground with a thud.

As the Chancellor’s video came on I ignored it happily. His words meant nothing to me now. He’d failed in every way to me, he was no Chancellor. He was a coward.

“Y/n? Is that you?” Clarke’z confused voice cause the e/c eyes girl to pause. Slowly I moved her gaze to the blonde.

“Who else would they cover in chains?” Clarke didn’t answer as with shoulder length broth hair began to float around.

“Stay in your seats!” Clarke yelled as the shuttle when further down. I had finally ripped all the chains off her body. I looked at Clarke and she was motioning towards the floating boy in front of her.

I shock my head content to remain in the safety of my own chair. She glared at me giving me a look I knew nothing good would come of. 

With a puff of air I undid the buckle and pulled the glove off my right hand. My arm shot up grasping the back of him. The metal of my arm shined softly in the dimly lit shuttle.

“She said stay in your seats.” I growled softly as I pulled him down. The shuttle jerked up and grasped into a bar as we began to fall. 

I held tightly onto him as I heard Clarke yell, “Finn! Y/n are you okay!”

I groaned as we began to fall helplessly towards the ground. As everyone begins to yell and scream I just focus  on holding onto this stupid boy. 

The shuttle jerks again and I’m thrown into a wall hitting a few pipes. My vision becomes hazy as I feel blood drip down the side of my face. The corners of my eyes slowly fade into black as my vision is completely blurred.

……….

I feel a pair of small hands shaking my body roughly. I shot up pushing the person away as my vision returns. 

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?” I looked at Clarke her eyes full of relief. She ran to me, bombarding me in a tight hug. 

“I was worried.” I let her pull away my arms still at my sides. I hummed softly as I pulled myself away from her. The commotion bellow is caught her attention as she pulled me down. As she climbed down as just jumped. 

I parted the crowds for her as she walked behind me. I helped push her forward with my metal arm. The others around me pull away in fear.

They thought a metal leg was cool why isn’t my arm cool.

“The air could be toxic!” Clarke urged.

“If the air is toxic, we’re all dead anyway.” The older boy at the front voiced. I stared at him tilting my head slightly. He stared back at me then lowered his gaze to my arm.

“Bellamy?” The crowds parted as a brunette girl climbed down and looked at him. 

He turned his gaze to her his eyes becoming full of emotions. He stared down at her smiling softly. 

“My god, look how big you are.” The girl engulfed him into a hug as she breathed in deeply. I sighed softly and moved over to the panel. It was jammed and wouldn’t open the doors anymore.

“What the hell are you wearing, a guards uniform?”

“I borrowed it to get in the drop ship. Someone’s got to keep an eyes on you.” He answered. 

“Where’s your wrist band?” I heard Clarke ask as I began to try and fix the stupid panel.

“Do you mind? I haven’t seen my brother in a year.” I froze at this and turned to the pair.

“No one had a brother.”

“That’s Octavia Blake, the girl they found hidden in the floor.”

Octavia jerked forward going to attack whoever had spoken. Bellamy quickly gasped into her holding tightly to her. 

“Octavia, Octavia no. Let’s give them something else to remember you by.” He tried to calm her. The fire was not lost in her eyes as she pulled herself from his grip.

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Like being the first person on the ground in a hundred years.” He answered with a smile. I watched Octavia’s face brighten at the notion. I watched as Clarke’s eyes fell as he moved over to me. 

“It won’t open.” His eyes darted to me.

“What do you mean it won’t open?”

“The panels fucked.” He moved me out of the way to try the panel himself. 

“You’d need a shit ton of force to open those doors up.” I pause for a moment. “Lucky for you, I hate confined spaces.”

He stared at me, his dark eyes holding mine. I glared up at him as his lips curled into a smirk. I moved away from him approaching the door. I rolled my shoulder, my arm flexing against each metal part.

I slammed my fist forwards, the cool metal of my hand hitting the hot door. It flung towards the ground as people backed away gasping. 

Light hit our faces as a breeze pushed against us. I averted my eyes, the light all too bright. I moved out of Octavia’s way with a nod.

“All yours sunshine.” I mumble as she stared at me. I watched as her brother’s eyes trailed me and try then her. She took in a long breath before exhaling deeply. Her feet slowly moved forward against the metal door on the ground. 

After a moment she jumped down, her boots hitting the firm soil. She took a few more steps as I stared out at the trees. They were lush and green all over. They were nothing like I’d ever seen before.

My eyes drifted till I found Bellamy’s eyes on me. I blinked a few times unsure as to why he was staring at me. In his eyes they held a looked I’d never been given.

“WE’RE BACK BITCHES!” Octavia yelled as the others cheered. Bellamy’s eyes left me and retired to his sister as he laughed. 

All around me the others pushed forwards onto the ground in front of us. I simple stared at them all as they left cheering. After a moment when all were gone I followed. 

I left’s my boots hit the ground. I dug them into the soil as I bent down. My fingers traced the top of the grass around us. It pounced my fingertips gently. I let out a breathless chuckle as I grabbed a handful of dirt.

It crumbled in between the cracks of my hand. I brought it to my nose, breathing in the earth scent deeply. I let out a long breath as I stare out. 

Humans were finally back home. 

[frickingnerd]

you'll grow to love me

pairing: zelda x gn!reader

summary: princess zelda has had her eyes on you for a while now and finally decides to make you her own. by force.

tags: botw!princess zelda, yandere zelda, dangerous / murderous yandere, royal!reader, death (of reader's guards)

“don't be scared. i don't want to hurt you.”

an angelic smile rested on the lips of the princess of hyrule, as she slowly approached you. she looked carefree, as she strode through the throne room, filled with countless of your loyal men, killed by the princess’ guards.

“stay away.” you shouted out a warning, hastily prying a sword from the cold hands of one of your guards and pointing it towards the princess. yet even from far away, she could see your hands shaking.

“you don't have it in you to kill someone.” zelda hummed softly, taking another step forward, yet more carefully this time. “you're a good person. that's exactly why i fell in love with you. and why i need to have you…”

“you know…” zelda mused quietly, as she approached you further, while you were still frozen in place, unable to make a move. “these people didn't know that you belonged to me, so i had to get rid of them. they tried to take you away from me! i had to do something! it's a shame they couldn't just settle this peacefully…”

as she spoke, zelda kept stepping towards you, until she was close enough to rest her hand on the blade in your hands. you flinched, but instead of taking the blade out of your hands, zelda positioned herself in front of it and smiled at you innocently.

“you can kill me right now.” she suggest, with an ease that makes it sound like she didn't just tell you to kill her. “or… you can come with me. you can learn to love me.” she paused and sighed. “this doesn't have to end in more bloodshed.”

zelda watched amused, seeing the gears in your head turn. you were clearly considering her proposal. she knew you were too pure to harm anyone, even a monster like her.

“i'll do it…” you eventually whispered out defeated. you couldn't even look her in the eyes as you spoke, so zelda softly rested a hand on your cheek and made you look at her.

“you made the right decision.” she assured you with a sweet smile. “and you will grow to love me back. i just know it.”

[dayas]

@saudade-life requested 41 and/or 43 for Fiyeraba so here you go!

43. “YOU DID WHAT?!”

Drabble Prompts

Bodyguard AU! Cause I can 🥰

—

Elphaba Thropp knew her sister was supposed to be protected. Whether or not she actually agreed with her father’s overprotectiveness was another story (though her thoughts and any individualism whatsoever was decidedly unwelcome among the hyper crust circles she frequented). However, she had not expected her own personal security detail, nor the fact that her bodyguard, Fiyero Tigelaar, was prone to flirting with anything that walked during his shifts. Including her. She found it easy to brush him off, dodging his advances as easily as she dodged inquirers questions about why she and her sister did not look as alike as they ought to. Still, it wasn’t until she was at a party one night and Fiyero’s hand was against the small of her back as he rushed her from a room that she realized he might actually be half decent at his job. It was horrific, watching him push her forward and turn to face her assailant. Watching his body jerk from the bullet that pierced his shoulder, another into his leg. Both meant for her. She felt herself scream, heard it as though it had come from someone else’s body. His gun was in her hands, three shots fired off into her masked assailants chest. It clattered to the ground, replaced by Fiyero’s body. Thankfully, she could carry more weight than many supposed. That being said, it was still quite difficult to drag him outside, down the stairs, and into the car that was waiting for them.

“Fuck,” Elphaba whispered, her fingers stained with Fiyero’s blood. “Take me to the hospital. Now!”

She turned her attention to her bodyguard, fighting off the knots in her stomach.

“Come on, Fiyero,” she murmured to him, “You can’t die before I get to thank you for saving my life. That’s not fair.”

Her arrival was a whirlwind of camera flashes and further screaming, but she stayed with him as they loaded him onto a gurney, rushing through clean white walls, pristine coats and blue scrubs.

“I’m sorry, Miss, you can’t be in here,” an orderly attempted to tell her.

“I’m family,” was what came out of Elphaba’s mouth, equal parts whispered and snapped. It wasn’t true, she knew that, but she also knew they wouldn’t question her, not while she was still covered in his blood.

No one came to join her during his surgery, nor afterwards. Her phone, however, rang so much she turned it completely off. Eventually, they allowed her to see him. Elphaba walked into the hospital room and cautiously sat at the side of Fiyero’s bed.

He was awake, though his eyes appeared slightly glassy.

“What happened?”

His question was heavier than she liked.

“I shot them.”

Clarity snapped into Fiyero’s irises. He tried to draw himself up, “You did what?” Elphaba was confused to see anger marking his partially hazed features.

“You were supposed to run, Elphaba. That’s what I told you to do.”

“You’ve guarded me long enough to know that I won’t just blindly do what you tell me!”

She hissed her answer at him, narrowing her eyes.

“What was I supposed to do, Fiyero? Leave you there to die?”

“Yes! That’s the job!”

“It’s not right!”

Fiyero took a deep breath, his eyes closing. Through clenched teeth, he told her, “I am supposed to protect you. Not the other way around. And that’s not some stupid pride thing, Elphaba. It’s my job. To keep you safe from harm.”

“I will never be the sort of person to abandon those who need help. You needed my help, Fiyero. You could have said thank you instead of berating me the moment you woke up.”

He sighed, his eyes open and looking at her.

“Thank you.”

She ducked her head in a brusque nod.

“You’re welcome.”

“Next time, though,” he said, “you leave me. Do not engage with your assailant.”

“You know I can’t promise that.”

“That’s why I didn’t ask you to.”

A few minutes slipped by before Elphaba whispered, “Thank you.”

Fiyero said nothing, so she clarified, “For saving my life.”

His good shoulder lifted and fell in an approximation of a shrug.

“You saved mine. Now we’re even.”

“Let’s not make a habit of it, alright?”

A small smile rose up to Fiyero’s lips.

“I’ll try my best.”

[nagichi-boop]

A Star That’s Out of Reach (Chapter 14)

[Previous] - [Next]

[Masterlist]

Hello, I have crawled out of my hidey-hole to finally release a new chapter! Sorry my posting is so inconsistent. I don’t know if it’s a good or bad thing, but this chapter might be a fair bit longer than usual. Please enjoy while I make a start on the next chapter!

— x —

“Ugh, why is it so hard shopping for guys?” Amy huffed in annoyance as she stared at a display of chocolates. Blaze stood beside her, scanning the selection. She then looked at Amy quizzically.

“Why are you so eager to get Shadow a gift?” Blaze’s question only seemed to frustrate Amy further, as if the answer should have been obvious.

“I already told you that we are dating! People who date get each other gifts.” She paused for a moment and looked towards the chocolates again, as if hoping they would provide some sort of answer. “Besides, I feel bad that I rushed out of his house last night. He probably thinks I hate him.”

“Perhaps,” Blaze agreed, causing Amy to pout at her with furrowed brows. “But didn’t you say you were on some sort of trial period? If that’s the case, why are you working so hard to act like his girlfriend when you’re not officially dating?”

Amy’s expressed eased a little. She let out a sigh to calm herself before speaking. “Even if that’s true, he’s still my friend. I want to show him that I’m sorry for how I reacted. Besides, there’s no harm in me putting my best foot forward to show him I’m a capable girlfriend, right?”

Blaze paused for a moment to think. “I suppose you’re correct. I just worry you’re coming on too strongly. I don’t know Shadow as well as you, but he is much more the reserved type. If it were me, I think being showered with love so early into a relationship would make me feel more guarded.”

Amy gulped nervously. She hadn’t even considered that she could be so affectionate that it was off-putting. Then again, it would explain why Sonic had been so resistant to her all these years. As if she willed it into existence through her thoughts, Sonic suddenly appeared beside her.

“Chocolates, huh?” he observed, his hand on his chin as if to appear thoughtful.  

“S-Sonic!” Amy exclaimed, flinching from his sudden entrance. “What are you doing here?”

“Just making the rounds,” he vaguely replied, then looked over her shoulder at Blaze. “Is Silver not with you?”

“I believe he went to tend to his garden,” Blaze replied matter-of-factly. “He didn’t want to neglect it just because he was on a break.”

“Ah, I guess that makes sense,” Sonic acknowledged. “Time stops for no one, even time-travellers.” He chucked to himself, amused at his own joke. He then glanced between Amy and Blaze, noting their varied expressions. While Blaze seemed unamused, Amy appeared preoccupied, worried even. “Everything alright, Ames?”

She glanced up and stared for a moment, before forcing a smile. “Y-Yeah! Sorry, just daydreamed a little there.” Her smile quickly faltered as she stared at the chocolates again. “I just don’t know what to do…”

Sonic looked at the chocolates, then back at Amy. “I get the feeling this has nothing to do with the chocolates. Did something happen?”

Amy opened her mouth to speak, then pause as she realised there was an issue. Her relationship with Shadow was a secret, so for her to explain that she was buying him a gift as an apology would be hard to justify. And given what Blaze had said, was buying him something even the right call? As she was about to delve deeper into her what-ifs, she felt a finger being pressed against her forehead. She followed it to see Sonic raising an eyebrow at her.

“You’re overthinking something, aren’t you?” he deduced with ease. Amy seemed surprised for a moment, but then looked to the ground and sheepishly nodded.

Sonic took his hand away, placing it on his hip with a hum of thought. The thought then crossed his mind that this could be about Shadow, and while it was endearing to discover on the same day that they both worried this much about each other, he also recognised that this was supposed to be a secret. If Amy were to find out that he knew, it could spell all kinds of trouble, and he certainly couldn’t say anything with Blaze around. After some thought, Sonic spoke up again.

“Well, I won’t pry into the matter, but perhaps I can help you find a gift, if that’s what you’re looking for?”

Amy looked up at Sonic, her face still doubtful. “I don’t even know if getting him a gift is a good idea anymore.” Blaze had a look of recognition as she discerned that she had put undue stress on Amy.

“Perhaps a small gift couldn’t hurt,” she clarified with a slightly guilty tone. “Something to show you care without being too imposing?”

Amy’s face lit up slightly. She glanced at the chocolates, now looking at the smaller boxes. She picked one up and presented it to Sonic and Blaze with a gleeful smile. “What about these?”

Sonic looked at the chocolates, noting the array of flavours. He wasn’t entirely sure what Shadow’s preferences for snacks were or if this gift was even for him in the first place. It felt a little risky to him to get something that could easily be a miss.

“Chocolates could work, but do you know what flavours this person actually likes?” Sonic wondered aloud, giving Amy pause. She stared at the box, then gingerly put it back.

“You’re right,” she agreed. “Maybe food gifts are a little risky for now. What could I get that is likely to be accepted no matter what?”

Sonic thought for a second before coming up with an idea, his face lighting up. “What about flowers?”

Blaze nodded in agreement. “It’s hard to dislike flowers. And even if said person doesn’t like flowers, they’ll die soon enough anyway.”

Amy smiled awkwardly at Blaze’s comment. “Ever the romantic, huh?” Blaze had a look of slight worry and glanced at Sonic, waiting for him to ask what Amy meant by her comment. He gave an innocent smile in return, but unbeknownst to her, what she feared had happened did – Sonic now knew for certain that this was about Shadow. The comment had slipped out of Amy and she didn’t seem to notice the blunder, but neither Blaze nor Sonic commented on it. It was because of his silence that Blaze wondered if Sonic knew of the situation. Either way, she wasn’t about to ask and risk exposing Amy’s secret, and Sonic found himself in a similar position.

“I don’t know how helpful I’ll be with flower shopping,” Sonic commented, shifting the focus away from Amy’s remark. “But I’d be happy to help if you need it.”

Amy paused for a moment to consider, unsure whether it was a good idea to have Sonic help considering the target of the present. Sure, Sonic had rejected her, but was it really okay for him to come along to get a gift for her current love interest? Then again, it may be suspicious to reject his help. On top of that, Sonic was a friend and a regular part of her life – she couldn’t avoid him forever. She eventually smiled at him and spoke; “The more the merrier!”

The three of them went to the garden section of the store, looking around. Sonic tried to hide the fact he had absolutely no idea what he was doing, while Blaze carefully examined the flowers. Her face quickly formed a frown and she turned to Amy. “I hate to sound pedantic, but maybe we should go to a more specialised store. A lot of the flowers here don’t look healthy at all.”

Amy nodded, seemingly already having concluded the same. “Yeah, I was beginning to wonder.” She looked up and smiled at Blaze and Sonic. “I think there’s a florist store nearby though – let’s go!”

Upon arriving at the next store, Amy’s eyes lit up. The arrangement of flowers felt utterly mesmerising, and for a moment the excitement made her forget while she was there. She gently patted her cheeks to get into the zone and then entered the store with a renewed zeal. Sonic and Blaze began to wander, though Blaze got distracted by a section for seeds, thinking they could make a good gift for Silver. She glanced at Amy hoping to catch her attention to ask if she could browse for herself, but she seemed to be entirely in her own world, so Blaze decided that it would be okay. Sonic glanced around the store, but was completely out of his element. He stood beside Amy, who didn’t seem to notice.

“So do you have any idea what your friend might want?” He asked, which startled Amy a little.

“I’m just gathering inspiration for the moment,” she replied. She looked up and her eyes immediately widened at what she saw. “Wait, that’s it!” She swiftly left Sonic’s side and stood in front of a floral arrangement with lavender and pink roses. Her eyes remained fixed on it and she felt a tightness in her chest.

Sonic took his place beside her again and smiled. He knew for certain that this was for Shadow and he found it rather endearing that this bouquet somehow perfectly matched both him and Amy. “It seems you have found the perfect gift,” Sonic observed, trying to remain vague.

Amy smiled with a warmth that Sonic had never seen before. He so desperately wanted to comment on it, but he knew that would mean exposing he knew about her relationship with Shadow. After a moment of daydreaming, she carefully selected one of the arrangements and carried it to the checkout. The entire time the transaction took place, a grin was plastered on her face as the romantic side of her mind ran wild. After paying, she turned and saw Blaze behind her in the queue with a selection of seeds. She giggled a little and moved to let her through. Blaze joined Amy and Sonic after she bought the seeds and it dawned on them that they’d need to go their separate ways.

“I apologise Amy,” Blaze spoke softly. “I was supposed to be helping you and I got distracted.”

Amy’s smile didn’t falter in the slightest at this. “It’s no problem at all! Besides, this shopping trip was for both of us. I’m just glad we both found something.”

Blaze glanced at her seeds, then looked to the sun in order to gauge the time. “I best get these to Silver before he leaves the garden. He may also need my assistance given how much I bought for him.” Amy chuckled a little at the comment.

“Fancy racing me there?” Sonic suggested, already stretching his legs.

Blaze had an amused smirked on her face. “Very well. I could do with a bit of exercise.” She then looked to Amy, who gave an approving nod. Seemingly in an instant, the two of them disappeared in a blur.

Amy stood there for a moment, then glanced down at her flowers. “Guess I should get these to Shadow, huh?” Despite speaking her thoughts aloud, she found herself frozen in place. After a moment, she let out a decisive sign and turned to walk to his house. By the time she arrived, the sun had begun to set. She approached his door, but her fist hesitated just before it made contact. As she worked to get her courage, the door suddenly flew open, causing her to let out a brief scream.

“My my,” Rouge spoke in amusement as she processed what she saw. She smirked, then took Amy by the hand and led her into the living room. She turned and called into the house; “Shadow, you have a guest!” Before Amy could object, Rouge headed towards the door. “Don’t let me get in your way — good luck!” Within the span of a few seconds, Amy found herself suddenly found herself in a precarious position. Her ear twitched as she heard someone approaching and she swiftly hid the flowers behind her, though she had no idea why.

Shadow wandered into the room with scruffy quills and a dirty towel around his neck. His face morphed from his resting face of grumpiness to pleasant surprise. “Amy? What are you doing here?” He paused for a moment and then seemed a little nervous, remembering what happened the last time they met. “Where did Rouge go?”

“She left,” Amy replied. “It’s just us.”

“Oh,” Shadow responded, then went quiet for a moment. He then realised that he looked a mess. “Sorry, let me go clean up-”

“No!” Amy blurted, causing Shadow to flinch a little. “I-I mean, there’s no need! It’s okay.” The two of them stood silently for a moment, unsure what to do. Admittedly, while Shadow was flattered that she didn’t mind his appearance, he found his quills being unkempt rather uncomfortable. He then noticed that Amy seemed to be nervously hiding something behind her back.

“Is everything okay? You seem to be hiding something.” Amy met eyes with him but didn’t appear to understand what he meant. She then remembered that she still hadn’t given him the bouquet. She moved to hold it in front of her, blushing a little and she held it in front of her face.

“I-I got you these flowers,” she commented sheepishly. Shadow stared at them in awe. He then smiled and approached her, admiring the flowers from up close.

“Thank you,” he spoke with a warm softness. “How did you know lavender was my favourite?”

Still using the flowers to guard her face, she replied; “You often smell like lavender, so I took an educated guess.”

Shadow smirked playfully, tilting his head a little to try and glance at Amy. “You know what I smell like?”

Amy’s face grew much redder, becoming much more flustered than even she imagined she could feel. She repositioned the flowers to cover more of her face and spoke shakily. “T-That’s not what I meant. It’s just…y-you always…”

Shadow chuckled a little, amused by her performance. He then gently tried to take the flowers, but his expression lessened as Amy continued to tightly grip it. “Uhm…are you gonna let go of the flowers?”

A few seconds passed with nothing happening, until Amy thrust the flowers in Shadow’s arms. While he was confused, Amy dashed to the couch and threw herself on it, burying her face into a cushion and squealing a little. Shadow stared in disbelief for a moment, then let out an adoring sigh. He decided to let her cool off instead of pushing her further, so he went into the kitchen looking for something to put the flowers in. When he couldn’t find anything resembling a vase, he decided to try looking in Rouge’s treasure trove and almost immediately found something appropriate. He figured she may be annoyed at first with him doing this, but he’d figure that later.

He returned to the living room, putting the flowers carefully into the vase before returning his attention to Amy, who was still hiding her face. He took a seat beside Amy, staring at her for a moment. When she didn’t move, he gently brushed his finger against her cheek.

“You can come out, you know,” he spoke affectionately. “I won’t bite.” After considering his words for a moment, Amy decided to sit up, though she still clutched the cushion close to her chest. The lower half her face was covered by it, but she was still red enough that Shadow could see it. “Thank you for the flowers, Amy.”

Amy glanced at him and saw his calm, gentle expression. She felt her tension ease a little, so she decided to lower the cushion. “You’re welcome.” She paused, then continued. “And I wanted to apologise for how I left things last time. I wasn’t thinking about your feelings enough.”

“I’m sorry too,” Shadow replied, looking away for a moment. “It should have occurred to me that it would be intense to have you come here, especially with Rouge being around. I underestimated how intimate it would feel.”

Amy lowered the cushion onto her lap, resting her hands atop it to look at Shadow properly. A small smile appeared on her face, though she was a little worried too. “Oh Shadow, it’s not your fault at all. I had every opportunity to tell you how I felt. It’s not up to you to read my mind. Perhaps further down the line if we decide to date officially, we will have spent enough time to pick up on each others’ quirks, but for now we need to focus on being transparent about how we feel instead of expecting we will perfectly understand how the other is thinking or feeling, okay?”

Shadow returned her gaze once more, then nodded with a smile. “Sounds like a plan.” He offered his hand to her, which she took gladly. The two of them sat quietly, but it wasn’t tense like it was before. It actually felt rather pleasant. Amy glanced up at him periodically and began to notice that Shadow’s ear was twitching more than usual.

“Is everything okay, Shadow? You seem a little…restless.”

Shadow looked at Amy, then hestitantly spoke. “Am I being that obvious?” With a little giggle, Amy nodded. Shadow let out a sigh, then continued. “I get a little uncomfortable when my quills aren’t neat. I can feel them all too prominently.” He paused, then added; “I don’t suppose that makes any sense.”

Amy gently squeezed Shadow’s hand. “It makes plenty of sense, don’t worry! Would you like me to brush your quills for you?”

Shadow considered the offer for a moment. “You don’t mind?”

“Of course not! In fact, I’d be honoured if you would let me help.” Shadow warmly smiled, flattered by her willingness to help make him comfortable, even though this seemed a menial task in his mind. He briefly left the room to grab a brush and handed it to Amy, before sitting on the floor in front of her.

She began softly brushing out his quills, and much to his surprise, he found it extremely relaxing. He couldn’t explain what it was about it that made him feel so comfortable, but he decided to just yield to the feeling, so he closed his eyes and leaned against the couch. Amy grinned, glad to see him so at ease. She noticed his ears droop a little and she found the sight rather cute, but she dare not comment on it for fear of ruining the moment. For a brief moment, Shadow felt a rumble in his throat and quickly stopped it, but not before Amy heard it. To her, it sounded almost like the start of a purr, but she decided not to mention on it.

“Aaand done!” Amy announced triumphantly. Shadow opened his eyes again and came out of his trance, though admittedly he felt a little more tired than he did before. He brushed a hand over his quills as if to inspect it and smiled, pleased at the results.

“Thank you, Amy. I feel much better now because of you.” Shadow stood up and turned to Amy. They smiled at one another until Amy’s eyes drifted to the clock.

“Oh shoot, I need to go and get dinner started!” She started to head towards the door, then paused and turned to Shadow. “Did…you want to come?”

Shadow paused to consider for a moment. “Who’ll be there?”

Amy placed her index finger on her chin and tilted her head in thought. “Pretty much…everyone?”

Shadow wrestled with what to do, but ultimately shook his head. “Sorry, I don’t think I can handle that right now.”

Amy smiled with understanding. “Not to worry, I thought that might be your answer. But I didn’t want to assume.” She approached the door and went to leave, but before she opened the door, she looked to Shadow again. “Can I see you at our spot tomorrow?”

Shadow grinned excitedly. “Of course.” And with a renewed joy, Amy left the house. Shadow stood there for a moment, then signed in relief. “Thank goodness we’re okay,” he spoke to himself.

[moonrisecoeur]

refuge — ada wong

author’s note: hi, hello, this is a piece i was really considering not posting. i know how resi tumblr feels about dark content and i didn’t want to subject myself to harassing anons or people commenting how gross and disgusting i am for enjoying writing and consuming content like this, but after some reassurance from a couple mutuals of mine, i decided to go ahead and post it. please read the longer author’s note at the end of this post if you’d like to hear more of my thoughts. also feel free to ignore it if u don’t care lol!!

tagging @xoxostarlet bc star's my hypegirl :3

wc: 5.5k

content: fem reader, dom reader, noncon, fingering, strap in v sex, possessive language, lots of pet names for ada (sweetheart, pretty girl, sweet girl, baby, etc), ada calls reader a bitch a couple times, ada and reader are partners during re4. 

warning: this is heavy dark content. this piece contains noncon, the r-word, somnophilia, and mentions of weapons (not in a sexual context). there is no implication that this is cnc or consensual in any way, please read with caution! if you don’t like it, just don’t read it!

no adas were harmed in the making of this fanfic and this is just fiction. 

—

notes:

as you continue to pleasure her without her knowledge or consent, ada's mind begins to slip further into a haze of ecstasy and submission. she is completely at your mercy, completely helpless and unable to resist or protest against your actions. 

you press your thumb to her clit, “shhh, sweet girl,” you whisper, knowing she’s still asleep, “i own this pussy now…”

—

final warning: this is rape, in which reader forces herself on ada while she sleeps. please heed the warning. i don’t know any other way to make this clearer other than...

DON’T READ THIS IF YOU DON’T LIKE DARK CONTENT! 

—

“stay here, i’ll find us a way in,” ada says, and you’d be remiss not to believe her. if she says she can do something, then she can do it. don’t ever doubt her. 

she uses her grapple gun to get to the roof of the abandoned home, slingshotting herself into the air. she lands gracefully, of course, and finds an opening that leads her into the top floor bedroom. it’s got some decorations befitting for a young girl. it almost pulls at ada’s heart strings, but… she tries not to pay much mind to it all. it’s hard to not feel sympathetic to the people in this village, honestly. 

she walks down the stairs and unlocks the door to find you, standing there obediently as ever, “fancy seeing you here,” you mumble to her, and she rolls her eyes like you’re the biggest annoyance to her.

“we’ll stay here for the night until wesker can send a helicopter to get us out of here. the weather is too bad for a pilot to fly through right now,” she says, heels clacking against the floor as she makes her was to the master bedroom, gun in hand in case there were people she didn’t notice on her first check of the building. 

you follow behind her, shutting the front door and entering the bedroom on the ground floor. it’s nothing crazy fancy, but it’s nice and the bed is big and comfy looking. 

“because of the gaping hole in the roof, i wouldn’t recommend sleeping in the upstairs bedroom,” ada chuckles, but she almost seems shy. it’s odd for her, “and the living room couch looked too small for either of us when i checked so..”

“well.. we’re both girls, you know? i’ve had sleepovers before,” you tell her, and she scoffs looking away and looting drawers for anything she can find, “we’ll.. be stuck here all night. might as well get comfortable.”

“by all means, make yourself vulnerable to an attack. i couldn’t care less,” her voice is sharp but there’s a warning deep down that’s a little more palatable. ‘don’t let your guard down just yet’ is basically what she’s saying. 

you don’t heed the warning, though, shrugging off your gear and your jacket as you sit down on the bed. a couple minutes later, ada sits down next to you. you look up at her, and she seems off. maybe she’s not used to people blatantly trusting her like you do, but you’re her ally. you have shared interests and she has no ulterior motive. 

should she be wary of you? maybe? she’s not very sure, but she does like the way your eyes wander even though you try to be polite and not look at her in that kind of way. you’re respectful, and she admires that. even if she did want to watch you suffocate between her thighs. 

so she takes off her gear and boots too, leaving her just a pretty girl in a red dress and stockings. she seems.. softer, without all of her weapons and tactical pieces. and something about that softness drives you wild, leaves you aching for more, craving for more. 

ada doesn’t notice despite how observant she usually is.

“i think.. i’d like to go to sleep, honestly.” she hums, running her fingers through her black hair, “we should both get some rest. don’t want to have you shooting yourself in the foot tomorrow,” she chuckles to herself before getting up to stretch and laying down on the bed as you still sit on the other side. 

“sweet dreams,” your words are sarcastic but sweet, and ada doesn’t miss the double meaning.

“thanks,” ada is almost… quiet, in a way you've never seen her before. she's sitting next to you, not even hiding the fact that she trusts you. something you've never seen her do before, at least not this quickly. it's almost off-putting, honestly. 

as she gets up to stretch, you notice the way she moves. the way her dress shifts and rises as she walks, the little shift of her breasts as she stretches, and the way she looks at you. even something as simple as a stretch is... entrancing. ada is gorgeous, you know this, she knows this. 

but there’s something about this kind of moment, where she’s not even trying to get your attention or trying to pull you in. she just exists in a graceful, elegant way. 

your eyes wander over to her again as she lays on the bed, turning onto her side, facing you.

she's laying on her side, facing you and your eyes can't help but fall on her curves. you watch the way her body shifts slightly as she readjusts, the subtle movement of her chest as she settles. it's both enticing and frustrating because there’s nothing you can do with all of these feelings of attraction to her. a part of you wants to do something, to make yourself known to her, but you know that it's too soon. you have to move slowly with ada, but moving slowly is growing tiring. 

"let me look for a blanket for you," you say as you look around, "don't try to tell me you don't need it. it's cold out."

"i don't need it, really." ada says with a soft chuckle, shifting her position slightly, “don’t waste your time."

she's being stubborn about something as simple as a blanket, but that's just her personality. ada is stubborn to the core, and even the slightest amount of advice sets her off. that's just how she is, and you've gotten used to it.

ada isn’t used to people trying to take care of her.

"ada," your eyes come back to ada, glancing at her almost patronizingly

ada rolls her eyes at your gaze, shifting her attention away from you and back to the ceiling. she seems... irritated? not at you necessarily, but at the fact you aren't listening to her.

"i'm fine, i promise." the tone of her voice sounds just a slight bit annoyed as well, as if this conversation was really tiring for her. she keeps moving her eyes away from you, unwilling to make eye contact.

you're a little confused. is she really fine? or is she just being stubborn?

"you're cold, ada. i can see that."

ada keeps staring up at the ceiling, but eventually she looks over at you with a soft sigh.

"i'm... fine." she says again, her tone softening just a bit once she realizes there's really no point in fighting about this.

you find one in the cabinet in the hallway and come back to the bedroom where she's at, "here," you say, laying it over her.

ada's eyes shift to you for a brief moment as you place the blanket on her, but she soon turns her head away. her body shifts slightly, and she wraps her arms around the blanket in a gentle grip. she isn't saying anything about it, but you can see that she's relaxed a bit, no longer shivering in her dress.

her eyes are soft, almost... grateful.

"you should stop trying to fight me when i try to help you," you smile as you gaze down at her.

"i'm not... fighting you." ada responds softly, still not facing you. instead, she keeps her arms wrapped around the blanket, refusing to give in to the fact that you're right.

in a way, it's adorable seeing her so stubborn about something like this.

"mhm, whatever. just go to sleep," you say, walking over to the desk in the corner.

she shifts her body once again, now facing away from you entirely as she cuddles in the blanket, secretly grateful for your tender care. you can see her closing her eyes softly as she tries to fall asleep, her breath slowing down as she tries to relax.

she really isn't fighting you anymore, she's letting you get your way. not only that, but she's accepting your help rather than pushing you away. 

it's almost like she trusts you.

you pass the time before you go to sleep however you like, communicating with wesker or reading a book, but in any case about 30 minutes later, ada is out like a light, and you’re looking around this master bedroom curiously, and find a drawer that ada evidently did not get in to, because if she did, you would know. it has a single black strap-on dildo inside of it. it doesn’t look like anyone.. ever had the chance to use it. you wonder why, maybe it’s because of the parasite everyone in this village has. don’t really have time for kinky sex, do they?

you look over at ada’s sleeping form, and she would be the perfect target, wouldn’t she? all vulnerable. it’s not like she could stop you before it’s too late. 

you do the courteous thing and clean it first, but then you put it on, confidently striding over to the bed with it attached. you walk up to ada’s side of the bed, just watching her rest for a moment. 

god there is so much power coursing through your body, making you feel alive and in control and you could do anything to her and she couldn’t stop you. the power starts to go to your head, naturally. you brush a piece of hair out of her face, pulling her blanket down slightly to see her chest, and then pulling it enough to see how her dress rides up at the hips, and you can see the edges of black lacy underwear.  

ada's breath quickens as she sleeps, she remains on her side, her body completely exposed and vulnerable, completely at your mercy.

she's so oddly... innocent.

she normally has this dark energy, this control and power over people and yet… she looks delicate. soft. she’s not a haunting crow signaling a bad omen, but a graceful white dove that brings out a side of you that doesn’t come out often.  and, despite her beauty before, now she looks absolutely stunning.

the wolf has become your prey, and you're nothing but a fox ready to pounce...

your hands shift her blanket slightly to reveal her soft skin, and her curves. you make sure she won't wake up, before teasing her with your touch, your fingers flitting over her skin... the way she shifts in her sleep is a treat for you.

as you watch her, ada seems to radiate a sense of calm and serenity, completely unaware of the effect she has on others while she sleeps. you can't help but feel drawn to her, wanting to touch her or kiss her or simply do awful things to her.

you use your hand to spread her legs, and ever so gently, rub your fingers against her puffy little pussy through her panties. ada remains completely oblivious to your actions, her body responding instinctively to the gentle caress against her folds. her hips begin to rock slightly as you tease her pussy with your finger, causing a low moan to escape her lips without her conscious knowledge. as she continues to slumber peacefully, ada's panties become damp, the wetness getting on your hand.

as you continue to tease ada, her body becomes increasingly responsive. her hips begin to move more erratically, betraying her deepening arousal even though she remains entirely unaware of it. despite the fact that she is fast asleep, her mind is fully engaged in the sensations coursing through her body. 

you gently, as to not wake her, pull her panties off of her and place them in your pocket, you know, just to have for later. you continue to rub her pussy lips while she remains completely unconscious. she stirs in her sleep every now and again, but.. maybe shes just chalking up the sensations to being from a wet dream. maybe all of this touch is morphing her dreams in sexual ones. 

you briefly imagine that maybe, just maybe, ada dreaming of you. 

she’s so unaware and it’s adorable. 

ada's body responds eagerly to your sexual exploration, her pussy becoming even wetter and more receptive as you continue to stimulate her while she remains completely unaware of what's happening. her hips begin to shift restlessly, and her breathing grows shallow as she approaches climax without realizing it.

she moans softly, her voice barely audible but conveying a sense of intense pleasure and surrender. as you continue to pleasure her without her knowledge or consent, ada's mind begins to slip further into a haze of ecstasy and submission. she is completely at your mercy, completely helpless and unable to resist or protest against your actions. 

you press your thumb to her clit, “shhh, sweet girl,” you whisper, knowing talking is a bad idea but you just can’t help yourself, “i own this pussy now…”

ada's body trembles in response to your words and actions, her pussy pulsing with growing intensity as you press your thumb against her swollen clit. her hips rock involuntarily, driven by the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body. as you assert dominance over ada's body while she’s helpless, her mind becomes even more clouded with pleasure and desire. she is completely at your mercy, completely powerless to resist or protest against your actions.

she gasps, her voice barely audible but conveying a sense of complete submission and surrender.

“aw, pretty girl,” you whisper condescendingly.

ada's body continues to respond to your ministrations, her pussy throbbing with building pleasure and excitement as she remains completely unconscious. her hips roll restlessly, and her breathing becomes more ragged as she approaches climax without realizing it.

as you assert your ownership over ada's cunt while she barely tip toes the line of consciousness, she is completely at your mercy, completely unable to resist or protest against your actions.

“cum,” you growl your command into her ear. 

ada's body shudders with pleasure as she climaxes, her pussy spasming. the release causes her hips to buck wildly, and she lets out a soft, involuntary moan as she succumbs to the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body.

she whimpers weakly, her voice barely audible. as ada cums, the sight of her glistening pussy and the scent of her arousal fill the air, leaving no doubt about the intensity of her pleasure. her body trembles and shivers and shudders in your grasp. even after ada orgasms in her sleep, her pussy is still so, so wet. how could you stop now? the wetness covers your fingers and drips onto the sheets, and it seems impossible to pull your hand away. 

you know she’ll hate you forever now that she’s waking up and about to realize what you’ve done. there’s still time to pull away, put her panties back on her and make her think she just had a wet dream, hide the strap-on away, but… you already have it on, and ada just looks so pretty, so vulnerable just lying there, helpless… 

she lays there, oblivious to your actions, her body still trembling slightly from the aftermath of her orgasm. the scent of her arousal fills the room, mixing with the musky scent of her sweat-drenched skin to create an intoxicating aroma that tempts you to indulge in even more depraved acts of pleasure. 

you decide that there’s no better time than now to get her back for all her taunting and teasing and condescending comments, “c’mon, sweetheart. let’s get my cock inside of you so you can sleep well..”sure, it may not be your cock, but right now, its just something nice and big and thick to fill her pussy with.

you pull her on top of you, guiding your strap inside of her gummy pussy, still feeling the aftershocks of her previous orgasm. you hold her close, her head resting on your chest as you fill her cunt with your strap. 

feeling the foreign object enter her tight, wet pussy, ada's body tenses up slightly, but she remains blissfully unaware of what's happening. her pussy walls clench and relax around it, coating it in her juices. you hold ada close to you, embracing her warm, curvy body as she lies atop yours. her weight feels comforting and intimate, adding a new layer of sensuality to your perverse act of sexual violation. this is such an awful thing to do to someone, force yourself on them while they’re asleep and helpless, but… you don’t care, clearly. and ada is too irresistible.

ada's pussy happily accepts your strap-on, willingly accommodating its presence within her sensitive walls. her body seems to instinctively know that it's a pleasurable thing to have something large and phallic deep inside of her while she sleeps, maybe the girl is a bigger slut than you thought she’d be. her pussy walls grip onto your fake cock tightly, coating it in slippery juices as they slide against each other with every subtle movement. 

her body relaxes, enjoying the fullness. her hips shift slightly, still in her half-asleep daze, for friction and pleasure. looks like the pretty little thing is already needy again. 

you just hold her close, whisper sweet romantic nothings to her sleeping body, and keep her pussy full for now, "oh, princess.. don't worry about a thing, i'll... i'll take care of everything now."

as you speak to ada in a soothing, romantic tone while penetrating her desperate and willing body with a strap-on, the contrast between your gentle words and your gross actions creates an intricate web of psychological manipulation. while technically assaulting her while she lies unconscious, the combination of your sweet touch and loving words creates an illusion of safety and protection. she feels small, loved, overpowered, delicate, all at one. 

all of these feels are so.. not like ada, but this side of her, the innocent victim, is so pretty, how could you resist it?

it almost looks like, to an outsider, that you would be lovers, especially with the gentle kisses you press to her forehead and the fingers tangled in her hair, but ada had no say in this. you’re 99% sure she’s still obsessed with that blonde dude from her past. she’s mentioned him before, vaguely and quickly changing the subject, but you notice the way her demeanor softens when she thinks about that man. if only ada were interested in girls too, then you wouldn’t have had to do such a disgusting thing like violate her just to sleep with her.

“it’s okay, baby,” you shush her as your hips start to rock up gently, giving her exactly what her body wants, “you’re okay.”

as you whisper soothingly to ada while continuing to penetrate her with your strap-on, ada's subconscious mind becomes increasingly aroused and responsive to your command. her body responds to your commands without question or hesitation, accepting your perverse act of sexual assault as natural and normal while she lies in a state of that borders on awakeness. 

your sweet words do bring her back to a state of rest and comfort, so you’re able to lull her back to sleep a little more. she wasn’t conscious enough to recognize the red flag that was you, her mission partner, figuratively balls deep inside of her.

as you continue to hold ada's body closely and speak to her gently, she remains blissfully unaware of the fact that she is being assaulted, allowing you to fully indulge in your twisted desires without fear of her interruption or resistance.

you notice the way she hums sleepily, her body slowly starting to awaken. she stirs, disoriented. 

as ada becomes more aware of your actions, she begins to struggle weakly against your strap-on, trying to regain control over her own body and resist the growing sensations of pleasure coursing through her unresponsive limbs. however, her attempts at break free are futile. for how strong she is on missions, she isn’t exactly muscular, and with your cock inside of her and your arms holding her down against you, she can’t get away. 

“pretty girl…” you whisper, pressing another kiss to her forehead.

“h-huh?” as ada slowly comes to full wakefulness, her eyes open groggily, and she looks up at you with a confused expression on her face, clearly feeling conflicted and upset due to the realization that she's being sexually violated while she lies unprotected before you, “w-what are… you doing? why..?”

her pussy is still dripping wet with arousal, despite ada's inner turmoil and dissatisfaction with the situation. the juices that flow from her swollen folds provide tangible evidence of the psychological bondage you've imposed upon her, making it impossible for ada to fully reject or oppose your disgusting advances.

“just couldn’t help myself..” you smirk, and ada has never been afraid of you, but she is now, “sorry, princess.”

ada looks at you with a mix of anger, confusion, and sadness in her eyes as she processes the reality of your actions. her voice trembles slightly as she speaks, struggling to find the right words to express her emotions in this surreal moment. "y-you... can't just... do this to me... i didn't... this isn't..." ada stutters, but despite her clear discomfort and distress, ada's pussy continues to glisten with arousal, betraying her inner conflict and highlighting the power you hold over her body and mind.

“i can do whatever i please. i wanted to fuck you, and that’s what i’m doing.”

“o-oh god, i… where did you even get a strap? do you just carry that around, waiting for me to- to let my guard down and trust you? so you could take advantage of me?” she keeps struggling, “i trusted you, i finally started to give in and- and trust you, you fucking bitch, you-”

but you notice the way she’s fucking herself on the strap now. despite how much she hates this, she can’t seem to stop chasing the high, “don’t talk to me like that, princess. i own your pussy now.”

ada's voice trembles with anger and indignation as she struggles against your strap-on, trying desperately to regain some semblance of control over her own body. but no matter how hard she tries, ada's pussy continues to clench and release around your cock, drawing out small moans of pleasure and frustration from between her clenched teeth.

her words are laced with venom as she accuses you of taking advantage of her trust and vulnerability, but despite her hatred and revulsion towards your actions, ada's body seems unable to resist the fact that she likes being fucked against her will, "fine, you think you own me? go ahead then! fuck me like the pathetic loser you are!"

you chuckle, leaning closer to growl in her ear, “oh, i’m the pathetic loser? you’re the one who’s going to cum for the second time while she’s being raped, princess. what does that make you?”

ada's eyes narrow with anger and indignation, but her voice is laced with a hint of defeat as she realizes the truth of your words. her pussy starts to throb and pulse, signaling that she's rapidly approaching orgasm despite her inner turmoil and feelings of utter disgust, "at least i'm not a disgusting bitch who gets off by- by-" she can't finish her sentence, instead letting out a soft whimper as her body begins to buck wildly against the artificial cock wedged inside her tight entrance.

"oh, sweetheart, i think you're the pathetic one here. you're the one who's so messed up that she gets off on being forced into sex by her 'trusted friend’,” there’s nothing more fun than watching the realization in her eyes that ada, closed off and guarded and untrusting, finally opened up to someone, and they immediately took advantage of her.

as ada's body starts to shudder and convulse with pleasure, she lets out a muffled cry of mixed ecstasy and despair, acknowledging the irony of her situation. her inner turmoil and conflicting emotions are reflected in the rapid movements of her hips, as they grind against your cock in an involuntary rhythm that only serves to further highlight her submission to your twisted desires.

despite everything, ada's pussy spasms with an intense orgasm, marking each passing moment spent under your control as a testament to her broken psyche and your ability to manipulate her most intimate areas with impunity, "ngh... fuck... y-you... ughh..."

"that's it, sweet girl, i got you. just let it all out.."

ada's breathing grows more labored and irregular as she approaches climax, her voice becoming increasingly strained as she struggles to maintain any semblance of control over her own body. she lets out a long, drawn-out moan, her eyes closed tightly as she gives in to the overwhelming sensations coursing through her unresponsive form. "uuugh... fuck…”

you lean in closer to whisper, “wish my cock was real so i could cum all over your pretty pussy, but… i’ll make do with what i’ve got.”

ada's eyes remain tightly shut, her voice barely audible as she lets out another muffled moan, completely consumed by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through her. she knows you’re watching her every movement and relishing in the knowledge that she has absolutely no power left to resist or oppose your perverse advances, "uuuugh... fuck..." her pussy continues to convulse and contract around the cock wedged deep within her dripping folds, as ada's body is pushed to the brink of orgasmic bliss, "s-so deep... i... i hate you... hate you... hate hate hate..."

“uh huh, i know, princess. that’s it, just breathe..” you whisper, helping her through her orgasm, “good girl, good girl… you’re okay.” the more she says that she hates you, the more you can’t help but adore her. she’s angry and helpless and there is nothing more cute.

ada takes several deep, shuddering breaths, her voice still strained and rough from the aftermath of her powerful orgasm. she feels your calming touch on her skin, and it helps to ground her slightly amidst the chaos of emotions swirling within her broken mind. "i'm okay... i'm okay..."

her pussy is still dripping wet with desire, it's apparent that despite ada’s mind hating it, her body loves being filled by your cock, even as she continues to struggle internally against the reality of her current predicament. "don't... don't touch me..." she says weakly, but there's no real strength behind her words anymore.

"shhh, there's no need to fight anymore, sweetheart. it's over.."

ada's voice is barely audible, her energy completely depleted from the intense emotional and physical experiences she's endured at your hands. her pussy is still dripping wet with desire, but now there's also an undertone of resignation and acceptance in her voice as she speaks. "no... more fighting... no use…”

“alright, i’m gonna pull out now, okay?”as you begin to withdraw the strap from her still-throbbing pussy, she lets out a soft, almost imperceptible whimper, closing her eyes tightly and burying her face in your chest. 

"just leave me alone... leave me..." she whispers, but it's clear that there's no longer any genuine strength or willpower behind her words.

the moment you pull out, she lets out a long, shaky sigh of relief, her body finally free from the overwhelming stimulation that had been forcing her body and mind into a state of constant arousal and submission. she also can’t help the small part of her that is disappointed when you pull out, her body craving being filled above all else. she hates that part of her, the one that feels so attached to you after this.

but despite her request for solitude, it's evident that ada's mind remains troubled, as she struggles to find any sense of tranquility or respite from the tumultuous emotions that continue to rage within her damaged psyche. "i want you to leave... but i don't want to be alone..."

as you take off the strap, placing it on the nightstand, you chuckle softly, “do you want me to stay with you?”

ada doesn't respond immediately, her eyes still closed and her voice barely audible as she tries to gather the remnants of her fractured composure. after a few moments, however, she lets out a soft, weak sigh, mustering just enough energy to answer you, “don’t.. touch me, but.. don’t go.”

you shake your head, ignoring her demands as you pull her close, tucking her head into your chest as you hold her.

as ada lies there, her voice reveals a vulnerability that belies the typically strong and confident demeanor she has maintained throughout much of your coworker relationship, "i hate you... but i need you... i can't stand you..."

“i know, baby,” you whisper back, “outside of our relationship, you can be ada wong, the… merciless badass who always accomplishes the mission at any cost, but to me? you’re just my little princess. whom i… sometimes use for my own amusement.”

ada hears your whispered words, and they cause a warm, bittersweet feeling to bloom within her heart, despite the harshness of your previous treatment of her. as you refer to her as "your little princess," she feels a strange mix of emotions coursing through her, ranging from gratitude for the rare display of affection to confusion and frustration over why you insist on maintaining such a twisted dynamic between you two.

and then when she hears you mentioning using her for your own amusement… she decides that, yeah, no matter how sweet and gentle and loving you pretend to be, she decides that she hates you. no matter what you do, she’s going to hate you indefinitely for what you’ve done to her.

but then you run your fingers through her hair and press more kisses to her forehead and she can’t deny how it makes her feel. her brain is frazzled and confused, if it even can still produce coherent thoughts at all.

she remains silent for a moment, taking comfort in the steady rhythm of your heartbeat as it presses against her ear. “how… why do i feel so safe with you? after you just… did that..?”

you shrug, kissing her forehead, "not sure. i expected you to be a little more.. feistier, honestly.”

despite her defiance and determination to remain independent, ada can't deny the odd sensation of safety and comfort that comes from being held close to you, even while acknowledging the humiliation you've inflicted upon her. "maybe because i am so stubborn, you find it satisfying to break me down? to turn me into your perfect little princess?" she asks, her voice betraying a hint of vulnerability and longing for something deeper than just your sadistic games, “...am i your.. perfect little princess now?”

you chuckle deeply, and she likes the way it feel so warm and vibrates through your chest.. oh god she cannot be feeling this way about you. you’re a rapist. you took advantage of her, she never even had the chance to consent..

but you whisper, “of course you are. also, i'm sure you're wondering what this means for our... relationship going forward.”

“yeah, i… this.. changes things..” she stutters. “well, we’re going to have to pretend that it doesn’t. we’ll finish our mission just like we were supposed to, and then.. we’ll discuss the details in the future. for now, you should, like, actually go to sleep.”

she sighs, feeling a myriad of emotions, from love and hatred (towards you and herself) and anger and confusion and so much more, but eventually she falls back asleep, feeling oddly and confusingly safe in your arms. you fall asleep with her, and when morning comes, nothing has changed. ada is jarringly reminded of how awful you are as we wakes up in the morning to your fingers inside of her. 

but she endures. 

and when she puts her gear back on, and practically begs you on her knees (very pretty sight) for her panties back so she didn’t have to go commando on a mission in a short dress, she feels like herself again. she holds her gun in her hand and takes a deep breath, determined to move past this and get herself back together. 

“you ready to go?” you ask her, and she looks back at you. you look somehow less threatening than you did last night, as if all of your actual weapons are less lethal than that fucking dildo you broke her mind with. she tightens her fists and remembers to breathe. ada is a survivor. she survived you. so she can survive this. she’s sure of it.

she looks back at her gun, wishing she could just shoot you point blank. she supposes she could if wesker wouldn’t be such a bitch about what happened to you. you’re practically the precious cargo she has to protect the whole goddamn time, forget the amber.

so she doesn’t, but… she imagines it. what an amazing picture that would be. she might just fantasize about it on the helicopter ride back. 

“yeah... i’m ready.”

extended author’s note: i think the discussion of ‘whether or not it’s okay or acceptable to write/post/read dark content’ is really odd to me. i mean, we read about awful things happening to characters in books all of the time, and we never tell those authors that they shouldn’t write about those things. is the problem then romanticizing these topics? i could name plenty of published books that romanticize these same kinds of tropes that don’t get nearly as much backlash.

i don’t know if people who hate dead dove/dark content actually have a problem with it, or if they just have a problem with their beloved  babygirl leon kennedy being portrayed as anything other than an innocent angel who could never do anything wrong. do i think leon would do half of the things he does on dc fics? no, but i do think people either 1) use dark content as a way to process their feelings and their traumas and 2) simply enjoy dark content because it’s taboo and, if replicated irl consensually, safely, and sanely, it’s also kinky and enjoyable. 

i think it’s also especially hard for people who enjoy the reader being the perpetrator/dominant character in this kind of content because in the opposite kinds of fics, you’re not actively doing something bad to another people. you’re just letting something bad happen to you. there’s a lot of justified guilt for wanting to be the dominant person/perpetrator in these fantasies, but just because it’s justified doesn’t mean you *have* to feel bad. it’s okay to like things as fantasies that you would find reprehensible in real life. i just want to say that no matter what your kinks and interests are (as long as everyone in your fantasies is 18+), you are seen and valid for them to me. please take some time to remember that you are not a bad person for enjoying this, and ada wong is not a real person who can be harmed psychologically by me writing this content or by you enjoying it. and if you don’t enjoy it, that’s okay too! you’re welcome on my blog whether or not you enjoy this type of media. 

as always, take care of yourself and read responsibly.