#used and things. not to make it sound like i mastered it or anything i was an child and drew bad but ya know

[1randomcomic]

A Reaver's Fate

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Clang, creak. Clang, creak. Clang, creeeak. Clang!

The sound of the rusted iron door of my cell opening and closing with the howling wind woke me once more. Blearily, I rubbed my eyes open. The glow from the ever-burning torches faintly illuminated the cell that I’ve called home for—Gods, I don’t even know how long at this point. I sat up on the slab of stone that constituted for my bed, rubbing the remaining sleep from my eyes. I swung my legs around to the open side of the ‘bed’, raising my arms behind my head to stretch. 

Crack!

The familiar sound of my joints cracking brought a small smile to my face. If there’s anything that I’ve learned in my indefinite stay here, it’s to appreciate the small things. The scratchy pillow that the last guard to watch over my cell had given me from his own bedding; The fresh, albeit cold, air that swirled and howled throughout the halls; The—now filled—paper and empty quill another guard had gifted me after I mentioned how I used to make blueprints of weaponry for His Majesty’s army; Even the uncomfy but fitting clothes I’d been given so I wouldn’t freeze. 

A sigh escaped my lips, my cracked goggles fogging up in the chilly air of my cell. Cracking my neck, I got off my bed. Standing up fully, I did my morning stretches. Nightly stretches? Midday stretches? I wasn’t quite sure what time it was anymore. I used to be able to tell what time of day it was by who was guarding my cell. Jenford in the morn, Aylex during midday, and Merrin during the night. Or was it Merrin in the morn, Jenford during midday, and Aylex during the night? I don’t know anymore, it’s been so long since I’ve seen any of them—or anyone for that matter. 

I shook my head, clearing those confusing thoughts from my mind. After completing my stretches, I walked through my cell, inspecting everything. It was a ritual at this point. Go to the door and inspect the rust covering it. More seems to have covered the sliding mechanism where the guards used to slide my food through. I tried moving it slightly with my fingers, but it refused to budge. 

“Must be rusted shut.” I mused to no one in particular. 

After studying the door, I headed over to the wall with what I think is my most recent marking of the number of days I’ve been here. I grabbed the small pebble and added another vertical slash onto the wall, marking the new day.

Next, I head back to my ‘bed’ and fix my pillow, fluffing up so it’s slightly more comfortable during the night. The pillow was the only thing that separated me from the stone while sleeping. The scent of Reeves’ cologne had long since faded with time, though the memory of his kindness still clung to me like a child would to their blanky. 

“I, uh.” Reeves cleared his throat, trying to hide something from me behind his back. “I noticed that you, uh. You tend ta have bruises an’ cuts on your face afta’ sleepin’. So I, uh.” He looked away in embarrassment, his cheeks flushing red as the blood rushed to his face and screwing his eyes shut. He looked slightly like a tomato from the market stalls in King’s Square. 

“Takemypillow,it’lldoyousomegood.” He slurred while shoving a well-worn travel pillow towards me. I blinked for a few awkward seconds, unmoving as I stared at the pillow. He nervously opened one eye, both of us glued to our positions, unsure what to do. 

“Do—do you not want it?” He asked, his lip quivering like a wet dog in the cold. 

His question brought me out of my stupor. I blinked a few more times before responding. “I—I don't know what to say. Thank you, Reeves.” My voice was barely above a whisper and yet it felt like the loudest sound I had ever heard, louder than the bang and explosions of artillery in the cacophony of battle. 

I shook my head, chasing those far off memories away before I broke down again. 

“There’s no use in dwelling on the past, it just makes us weak and liable to ignore the future.” My old Master used to say. 

Master… Gods, I haven’t thought about him in years. Decades? I truly can’t tell how long I have been here for anymore. Still, I miss that sly old man and his strangely useful wisdom. I miss the way he used to braid my hair when it got too long and how he used to sneak confidential scrolls that were far too out of my league into my room to study. 

I chuckled sadly, sniffling as I felt tears prickle at the corner of my eyes. Ah, shit. I’m already breaking down again. I wiped my tears away with my sleeve, only to feel more coming. The tears rolled down my face as my chest heaved for a comforting presence that I knew I would never feel again for as long as I lived. For what felt like days I stood there, hovering over my ‘bed’, sobbing silently and longing for the warmth of the man who raised me. 

When I had finally come to my senses, my body ached. There was also a dull throb in my head that was particularly vexing. Wanting to retain some sense of normalcy, I dragged my uncooperative feet to the pile of paper covered in various diagrams I would draw in my youth. I attempted to sit down, only for my body to collapse in exhaustion. 

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“This place gives me the creeps.” 

“Oh, quit being such a wimp, Gunar.” 

“I am not a wimp! You just clearly lack any self-preservation! If you hadn’t taken this stupid job, we could’ve been in Varmoss drinking right now!”

Davi scowled at the Lizard-folk, she’d had enough of his whining and moaning about their current job. “Shut up, Gunar! I don't ‘lack self-preservation’, you’re just a coward with a drinking problem. Besides, it’s just a clear-cut exploration mission. ‘Explore the ruins beyond the borders of the ancient kingdom of Hemonar. Find out what’s there and if there’s anything of value for Her Majesty’s Archives.’ It’s a simple job.” 

Gunar scoffed, “Yeah, and what are we going to do if we found any Reavers?”

Davi gave him a scathing glare. “I highly doubt that we’d run into any Reavers.” She barely managed to suppress the urge to shudder at the mention of those foul creatures. 

You could never trust a Reaver, no matter how harmless they try to convince you that they are. They brought about only pain and destruction. She had to learn that lesson the hard way. 

As the two continued exploring the ruins, they came across a hallway that led to a thick, rusted iron door that seemed to open ever so slightly and then slam shut in a consistent rhythm. The door had an openable slot that was likely used to feed whatever prisoner was stuck in there, but it appeared to be rusted shut. 

The two shared a look. Gunar shook his head, trembling slightly. Davi rolled her eyes and gestured to his Scimitar. He gulped nervously while unsheathing the weapon. Davi grabbed the handle of the door, which was curiously unlocked, and turned it to the right. The door shuddered and groaned as it opened, having clearly not been opened for centuries. 

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Clank! Clank, click, clank! 

Footsteps? Who in the Reagent’s name is here? The sound of armoured footsteps grew louder, loud enough for me to discern that there were two sets of footsteps coming towards my cell. I sat still, praying that they’d turn around and come back another time, preferably when I wasn’t stuck reliving the bittersweet memories of my imprisonment at the hand of Ser Nightcolt’s forces. 

I waited with baited breath, staring at the door to my cell. For a few tense moments, the door remained closed. Despite the now silent halls, I could still feel my heart hammering in my chest. The sound of it was so deafening that I almost felt like I was back in The Forges. With the sweet sound of hammers hitting steel and fires roaring as I shoveled more coal into the furnaces. 

NO! Now’s not the time to be longing for the familiar ash and soot scented halls I owned. Get your head in the game, Duskroar! There are people outside your cell! They could be bandits that will force you to create all manner of terrible things for them! 

I shook my head, trying to clear my mind and refocus on the present. 

“Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Focus on the now. Leave your thoughts be, let them come and go, like a leaf in the wind. Breathe in, breathe out.” I could hear Master Drust’s voice walking me through the familiar breathing exercise from my childhood, almost as if his spirit was still here guiding me, even in death. 

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.

Don’t dwell on your intrusive thoughts, let them be and focus on your senses.

Five objects near me: The diagrams, my quill, the empty jar of ink, the clothes on my back, and my pillow. 

Four sounds I can hear: The howling wind, my chest heaving as I try to slow my breaths, the silence of my door..

Shit! My cell door is never quiet! I could feel my heartrate picking up tremendously, its drumming drowning out the sound of the cell door opening. 

As the door opened, I saw two figures rush inside. Both had their weapons drawn. One was a stout Dwarf that was carrying a battle axe of some sort, one clearly far less advanced than what my wife used to make in The Forges. The other was a trembling Lizard-kin holding a not very well taken care of Scimitar out towards me. His—her?—grip was shaky, as if they were going to drop it and flee at any moment. 

The dwarf’s face went pale, as if they’d seen a Ghoul. Their eyes were wide with fear, but they held their axe steady. “Cò thu? Dè tha thu a 'dèanamh an seo?” They shouted in, what was, a language similar to Dwarvish but clearly more than just a newer dialect. 

“Is mise Duskroar, cé tusa?” Gods, I really need to brush up on my Dwarvish.

The two looked at me in surprise, not expecting me to speak Dwarvish. The Dwarf narrowed their eyes at me. Their eyes were a piercing green, one that made it seem like they were looking into my soul, judging my very existence. They turned to the Lizard-kin, careful to keep me in their sights before speaking in a tongue I couldn’t recognise. The two conversed for a bit before the Dwarf turned back to me. 

“Hva vet du om dette stedet? Ah, shit. That’s not Common….” The Lizard-kin muttered. They cleared their throat before speaking again, “Ak-hem. What are you doing here? What can you tell us about this place?”

Common? Huh, it’s not quite how I remember it but I can work with it. 

“This is—or was—a fortress that Ser Nightcolt’s forces used to keep high profile prisoners.” The two seemed quite shocked, sharing a look of surprise. 

“So you are, er, were a prisoner here?” 

“Indeed. I got captured during the Battle of Mistband and transported here. I do hope my wife is okay, it’s been…” I started counting on my fingers, “One, two, three, four, eight, eleven… I don’t know how many years since I’ve seen her.” 

“Why did Ser Nightcolt’s forces capture you?”

“I am an Artificer. I work for King Vollert of Hemonar. I studied under Grand Wizard Drust of His Majesty’s Court.”

The two shared another look, this one bordering on a mixture of pity and skepticism.

“Should we…?”

“Should you what?” I asked, perplexed. What are they trying to hide from me? 

“Go on. Tell them, Gunar.” The Dwarf made a gesture for the Lizard-kin—Gunar, I presume—to continue.

“Are you sure, Davi? Are you sure that this is a good idea?”

The Dwarf, Davi, glared at Gunar. “Just do it, I’ll buy you a drink later.”

Gunar gave them a sharp-toothed grin before turning their focus back on me. “I’m not sure how exactly to tell you this, but… King Vollert of Hemonar has been dead for about half a millennia. His kingdom fell about five hundred and fifteen years ago.”

“And what of Ser Nightcolt’s forces?” This can’t be right. Has it really been over 500 years since I got sent here? They're joking, right?

“The Nightbourne Empire fell roughly two hundred years after the Kingdom of Hemonar.”

“So it’s true… If they’re all dead… Why am I still alive? Why did I live and they die? Why must the Gods be so cruel?” I could feel my heart pounding in my chest and my hands clamming up. My breaths became raggard, my lungs struggling to take in any air. It felt as though my throat was being crushed by my Uncle’s hands, like when I was a child.

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Translations:

Cò thu? Dè tha thu a 'dèanamh an seo?: Who are you? What are you doing here? in Scottish Gaelic

Is mise Duskroar, cé tusa?: I’m Duskroar, who are you? in Irish

Hva vet du om dette stedet?: What do you know about this place? in Norwegian

(All Translations are from Word Hippo)

You have been imprisoned for so long that you have completely lost track of time. You are not even sure whether those who imprisoned you are still alive. When finally someone came to check on you they were surprised to find you, claiming that the dungeon has been unused for centuries.

[softlypaintedseafoam]

🍓ー thank you for your patronage at the strawberry witch’s bakery! here’s your order!

requested by: a lovely anon 🍓 -> law + strawberry tart (making up after a fight)

It's 2am when you drag yourself out of the sleeping quarters and Law is already in the kitchen. A small ache of discomfort forms in your chest, the two of you watching one another warily.

Your mouth opens, lips dry and stiff, but not one sound comes. Not a single word. With a grimace, your mouth closes again. It isn't until Law raises it that you notice the coffee pot nestled in his hands, "want a cup?" In spite of the question, his voice is strained and his brown eyes seem black.

It's bait, hesitant as it may be, it's bait.

Knowing this fact, it's difficult to make yourself ignore it and turn around promptly. Maybe it's how his eyebags seem more prominent in the Polar Tang's lighting and how his hair is messy at all sides. Law's isn't one who tosses and turns in his sleep. No, he sleeps much like a log once he's surrendered himself to sleep. A quick breath escapes you before you step forward, gently nudging Law away from the cupboards.

"2am isn't the right time for making coffee," you murmur, reaching for your collection of chamomile tea. "Doctors are the worst patients; you never listen to your own advice."

There's a pout in his voice when he replies, "I'm not sick, so there's no advice I'm breaking right now."

Your response is a subdued snort of disbelief. "Regardless, you won't get to sleep with coffee. We don't even have decaf." Another bold-faced lie that Law doesn't have the desire to press. The crew never buys anything decaffeinated coffee beans; it'd be a nightmare if Bepo and Shachi got their hands on anything but. "So put that thing down. Let the real kitchen master do their thing here."

With your orders, it's as if you're roles have switched and you're the captain of the Heart Pirates. Law steers clear of your way, far enough you won't bump into one another, but close enough. You don't feel the desire to snip at him because of it, not even as you awkwardly wait by the stovetop watching the kettle.

Close enough to feel one another's presence, but not so close you're pressing against one another either. Like there's an invisible line preventing the two of you from fully indulging in one another's touch. It's an uncomfortable feeling that not even a warming pot water can fix.

You're a couple that seldom has arguments. Regardless of how many battles you conquer, however, you'll never get used to this energy. You'll never get used to the feeling of not knowing how to function properly in this odd period after a fight's taken place. You wish your mind would stop going over the 'I could have done this differently's. You didn't do those things differently and no amount of reflection will take you back to that moment in time before things escalated.

A sigh escapes your mouth. There's no time like the present, at least. "Law-"

"I'm sorry," the dark-haired man says before you're able to truly start. You look to your left, eyebrows knit and lips pursed. "You were trying to help. I was being stubborn."

"I shouldn't have called you bullheaded and insensitive," you reply, your voice feeling too loud for the quiet of the kitchen. Even if Law can be stubborn, you know better than anyone Law is sensitive. There's too much care of his in that tall body of his than he knows what to do with. "I just worry sometimes that… you might go overboard. Like when you were dealing with Joker."

Separating himself from the crew to deal with the Warlord on his own was gut-wrenching on its own. Now with Wano on the horizon and an Emperor of the Sea along with it, your anxieties only feel heighten. "I just want you to rely on us more. We all do. No more trying to make yourself the only casualty; just trust that we'll be able to rise to the challenge once it's here. Please."

You're not sure what thoughts are swimming in the doctor's mind, watching carefully how his face contorts with your every word. Law cares. Too much at times. "I'm not asking you to change overnight," you start again, brushing the back of your hand against his. "But some baby steps would be nice, don't you think?"

His smile is tired but it can't hide itself, "baby steps are doable."

[littleakito]

HI HI HI HI HI. Angsty Dazai headcanons? Pretty please! With sprinkles on top even!

╰╮﹕★﹒ANGSTY LITTLE! DAZAI HEADCANNONS﹒🩹 TW WARNING.

AVERAGE DAZAI SHENANIGANS (suicide, sh, etc.), MENTIONS OF FORCED INJURY, EXTREME SELF LOATHING & SELF HATRED, DEHUMANIZATION. NOT TO BE READ WHEN REGRESSED (unless you like. hate yourself I guess? do what you want <3)

HEED THE WARNINGS.

୨୧ ：aah! finally getting to this hehehh.. I would have gotten to it sooner! but I need to be in an awfully specific mood to write angst.. tis odd! also! no cherry on top!!?!?! smh… /silly sprinkles are great though, sounds delicious mmmm..

1　 ﹒　Despising pain so much is quite a struggle when your brain has so much hatred towards yourself it begins to physically hurt, they say that once you grow hungry enough, you begin to eat your own heart. Dazai doesn’t have one of those, last he checked. So instead, his body begins to sacrifice his mindset for one of a much, much younger person.

It’s scary, even scarier when your anxiety is running rampant and rapid, coursing through your veins at an all time high. Vulnerability shouldn’t be such a scary thing, but when your most memorable experience with such is having your arms sliced open on a vivisection table, and tubes shoved down your throat, you begin to despise letting people see you as so.. small.

It’s even worse when you mentally feel so little, and the world around you begins to look like tall, scary faces, watching your every move.

2　 ﹒　Being oh so used to tainting all that he touches is rather tough, I feel as if he’s broken a pacifier before and had an absolute panic attack, god forbid someone allows him to hold a cup whilst he’s somewhat fuzzy, things will begin to blur the lines between sitting in Mori’s office, and being right in front of his caregiver.

3　 ﹒　When he betrayed the Port Mafia, he lost Chuuya. I wouldn’t entirely say that Chuuya was his “caregiver”, due to their oh so complicated relationship, but I would say that Chuuya was the closest thing he’s ever had to one. They’re both rotten, but that doesn’t entirely matter when you feel so sweet next to one another.

Whenever Dazai would begin to wish for him by his side, he would grow so much self hatred, how could he want something? How could he ever allow himself that treat of comfort, when he’s done nothing but be an awful, awful human being(? Is he even that, anymore?) towards both himself, and everyone around him.

He’s been biting and snapping at others for so long, that he’s begun to forget he, too, was bitten himself. That sorrow that taints him is a product of another person, who cherished him, yet only for his inability to feel cherished, and understand emotions in the first place, for that matter.

4　 ﹒　After time, if he ever began to feel even a little more comfortable in that state, he would begin to have extreme night terrors of his regression. He would begin to despise it, anything that brings him comfort should be banished, after-all. If he had a specific love for a certain toy or drink or stuffie, he would cry himself to sleep in a corner without it, all in punishment for existing in the first place.

If whatever god is out there created Dazai with the purpose of making a self loathing success of a black hole, destined to be hungry for love whilst tainting those around him, for all of eternity, they certainly are a master in their field.

୨୧ ：projected a lil too hard with my lil man methinks, anywho, I hope this is okay and at least partially in character! thank you sososo much for your request, ash! ‘twas fulfilling!

HEADER READS: “LITTLE DAZAI HEADCANNONS”

DNI BANNER READS “NSFW DNI” “HEY, DID YOU HEAR ME?” “CHILD SAFE BLOG”

[desperateknot]

Swap Ishqueg/LCB Queequeg AU

Edgar Family Butler Queequeg uptie story:

Chief Butler Ryōshū is notoriously strict. She spares no patience or mercy for her lazy, distracted underlings, except for this one…

It would be unfair to call this Butler “lazy.” After all, she has wiped this wardrobe sparkling clean. So clean, it could even be used as a mirror.

It’s just that, it has been 2 hours since she started cleaning, and she hasn’t really touched anything apart from the wardrobe.

Queequeg: Smeared again.

The new Butler spends the next 5 hours trying and failing to wipe the smear off that wardrobe.

Such an inefficient housekeeper she is, one has to wonder what is the reason the Chief Butler took her in. Her Butler uniform is as ill-fitted for her as she is to this profession.

The reason is exceedingly simple.

Everyone in this Manor has a “place.” Even that obstinate Hound.

From the start, her place isn’t that of an ordinary Butler. Thus, all of her short-comings with those trivial domestic chores could be easily overlooked.

From the start, her place is…

Queequeg: Go!

The child stands between that Hound and her Masters.

As she catches a glimpse of her Master’s limp, severed arm on the food, she realises she has arrived a few moments too late.

But this is no time to be hung up on that.

Queequeg: Lady Ryōshū! Take Master! Go!

Everyone in this Manor has a “place,” but at this moment, the Chief Butler seems to have forgotten the place which this child occupied.

Ryōshū: You will…

Queequeg: Keep him. I can. Please go!

Begrudgingly, the Chief Butler stands up in staggered steps. Her tired, bleeding arms carry their half-conscious Master. Even the imposing Chief Butler has her place.

But, before she makes her escape, she turns back to look at that ill-fated child for the last time.

???: How is someone like you here?

The child brandishes the kitchen knife, pretending not to understand his question. In truth, she hasn’t been too accustomed to using them yet.

???: What an utter disgrace. So this is Ryōshū’s secret weapon?

???: That rag doesn’t even suit you. No matter. You shall fall regardless.

This is her first encounter with the fabled Hound, and he is indeed every bit as dislikeable as the stories made him out to be. She especially hates the contemptuous and assuming way he looks at her.

Queequeg: I…just a mere Butler. You. A mere Hound.

???: …

Queequeg: Aha. Pluck your eyes out. Even if. Last thing I do.

Edgar Family Butler Queequeg voiceline:

Gaccha: Clean up time.

Uptie: Can't do it. Can't clean everything.

Reasoning: Devoting herself to someone who wouldn’t really regard her as anything more than a helper sounds a lot like Queequeg. Also, Ishmael also has this ID.

Personal notes:

Queequeg dies right after this uptie story. I mean. She's just a Butler. He is Wild Hunt.

In this mirror world, she did manage to take one of his eyes and make him wear that eye-patch, though. Wild Hunt's eye-patch being unexplained in lore is very convenient for me because Queequeg plucking his eyes can also double as a reference to my fic. That is self-indulgent, yes, but technically, I can do anything, so...

I plan to take a break with the AU after this. As in pausing on fics, EGO, ID, splash art, uptie stories. I have been playing with this AU for a while, and gotten a bit burnt out with it. Don't worry. I will still make Ishqueg content. Doodling and writing and such.

[seamany]

The post that solved it all for me PART 1

NOT MY POST, THIS IS MOBILEBLACKSMITH2535 VIA REDDIT

(It might sound like I'm yelling at you in this paragraph but these are just things I wish someone told me like years ago) Here is where I talk about everything law of assumption that helped me ACTUALLY become a master manifestor. The law of assumption, as I see it, is the law of being. You cannot experience what you are not being. Coming from a person that used to cry myself to sleep every night feeling frustrated, hopeless, and extremely tired of putting all this effort into something and getting absolutely nothing back, this shit is real. Please do not take this post with a grain of salt. Please do not toss my story in with the probably hundreds of other "I have shifted" threads/videos you have witnessed. If you want to shift listen to every word that I say. I can't explain why we have this power I just know that from November of 2020 to July of 2023 I have been working my ass of to get somewhere, anywhere. In between those 3 years I had an on and off behavior towards shifting. I used to force myself to forget about shifting for a few weeks because it hurt too much to think about it. I felt like I won the lottery and I couldn't cash in the money. It was awful and I wouldn't wish that feeling of hopelessness on any other conscious being. Sometimes I would watch shifting tik tok compilation videos on YouTube and get a surge of motivation that would soon die out along with any semblance of dignity and self-esteem I had left. I'm telling you not asking you to see me as a real completely sane person because that is exactly what I am. Even though I'm creative and spiritual (not religious, spiritual), I can't help but see things logically. It's just my nature. I like patterns, formulas, structured systems, explanations, science, etc. I knew the probability of hundreds upon thousands of people describing in detail their experience of shifting couldn't be a phenomenon but a real...thing. I, for some reason, never doubted the possibility of shifting, more my capability to do it. Along my journey I've had my moments of distrust surrounding shifting in itself, and as I rounded onto the 3rd year of attempts I had increasing feelings of dread and anger. I was angry at the world that I live in, feeling dreadful that I couldn't escape it all. Then on one fateful fateful day, specifically July 31rst 2023 at about 8:30 am, I shifted. It was easy and it was effortless. Just as everyone says, but that's not something I'd like to focus on in today's post. I'm not making this post to tell you how simple shifting is or to "let go" (whatever the fuck that means) or to change your mindset. Those things are all useless compared to the thing that just clicked for me on July 31rst 2023 at about 8:30 am. What I am going to tell you is going to be so stupidly straightforward that your mind isn't going to want to believe me at first. You are going to try to make it more complicated than it is, just like you probably did with shifting when you first learned about it. But assure you that you should take what I am about to say at face-value. You don't need to let go, you don't need to change anything about yourself, you don't need to "release blockages", you don't need to reprogram your subconscious mind. You are done. You have your desire already. You are finished and there is nothing left for you to do.

LOOK AT MY PAGE FOR PART TWO

[kitthepurplepotato]

Chapter 21 - Let’s ignore the elephant in the room.

Summary: Y/N learns more about the people who live in Izuku’s head. No, she doesn’t think Izuku needs to see a therapist. Izuku already does that anyway.

Izuku also acts weird when it comes to the Hero Gala… what is he hiding?

(Is this how you write a summary? Hell, I’ve been away for too long.)

First Chapter Master List Ko-fi

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Somewhere in the near future

Y/N’s Diary entry #145

Life has been great. Too great, to be honest.

I was loved and appreciated and my side hustle helped me to get enough money to feel safe in case something goes wrong. No more stress about being a burden or feeling useless. Sounds great, right?

It was… it was great. Everything was splendid.

I knew something will happen in the future. I knew it can’t stay this good forever.

But I didn’t think the reality will hit me this hard.

The funny thing is, that it isn’t even about me. My life is still… great. But seeing my loved ones in so much pain is worse than being in it myself. The tears, the loud sobs, the sound of choking on air in the middle of a breakdown… these things live in my head rent-free, they keep me up at night and mess up my mornings and I hate how I’m completely unable to do anything to help my loved ones.

~•~

“I know we usually go from number ten to number one, but tonight… it will be different.” The entrepreneur announced on the hero gala without a single smile, shaking and kinda broken. No one clapped. They just sat in silence, their eyes the size of saucers, their anxiety clear even through the screen of the TV. “I have a letter from our favorite number one pro hero, Deku. Now let me read it for you.”

I knew right at that moment… that things won’t be same anymore.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Back to the present.

“Do you think we went a bit unhinged in there?” You mumble to yourself as you enjoy the hot water of the onsen. Izuku looks at you questioningly, not really understanding what this is about; feeling his gaze on you after everything you two have just done it’s a little bit… well… embarrassing? No, it’s not the right word to use. It’s a pleasant feeling but it also makes you shy away a little bit. You feel like that meme that’s circulating the internet about wives getting shy around their long-term husbands after getting… well… loved hard. Now, there is two problems with this; first of all, it was your first time with him (plus you’ve only been together for a few months), second of all, your time together was anything but… hard. It was soft but scorching hot like a marshmallow being cooked by a fireplace. It was the exact opposite of what that wife was going through in that one meme.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean��� we are a bit too much, aren’t we?” You try to make yourself a bit easier to understand and by the look of it, Izuku gets it; but instead of getting shy about it, he just gives you a massive, adorable smile then moves into your personal space to answer you while your lips are almost touching.

This man will be the death of you.

“Is it weird to be obsessed with my girlfriend?” Izuku closes the distance, his lips moving on your own as he speaks. It makes your heart beat out of rhythm and you feel the familiar warmth in your tummy again, only half an hour after your cheeky shenanigans.

You blame it on the hot water, because otherwise… How insatiable can you be?!

“I mean, it might look weird to other people. But I guess I’m no better than you and if you are okay with it then so am I?” You answer with your eyes half lidded, anticipating the kiss you are so hungry for.

“I don’t give a fuck what others think, Sweets. Not when it comes to you.” Izuku grumbles in a deep voice and finally puts his lips back on yours for a chaste kiss. You can’t help but giggle.

“Did Kacchan’s soul just infiltrate you for a second there?”

“Nah, but my answer was heavily influenced by one of the vestiges inside me. He doesn’t talk much but when he does, he has a strong opinion.”

“They… talk to you?” You look up at your boyfriend with pure wonder. This is the first time you hear about this; he told you about feeling the old wielders inside him but he never clarified on what level he can communicate with them. In your head, you thought it’s more like a second conscience, like you can feel it when they are angry or happy about whatever is happening around Izuku but that’s about it.

“Yeah, I…” Izuku moves his face away from you but his arm snakes around your middle to pull you closer. You put your head on his chest, ready to hear his story. It’s something you do quite frequently; you put your head on his chest or in his lap while Izuku tells you unheard tales about stuff he’s been through. “You see, it’s really embarrassing to tell someone that there are several other people living inside my head, taking over my own thoughts sometimes. I don’t want to end up in a mental hospital… not like you would ever do something like that, but… I’m sorry I kept this a secret.”

“How does it work?” You take Izuku’s free hand in your own and start playing with it, trying your best not to sound so nosy. You fail.

“They… well… uhh, this is so hard.” He giggles. “They aren’t constant… they jump into my head once in a while when they have a strong opinion about something but they let me live my own life and they try their best not to interfere nor influence my decisions. They talk to me during battles, help me with strategies, I can also close my eyes and talk to them if I want to or need to. During my dark days, right after the accident I sometimes managed to completely zone them out. They weren’t happy about that.” Izuku admits.

“What were they thinking about us?” You try to change the topic because there is no way in hell you want Izuku to start getting all nostalgic and sad right now.

“They teased the shit out of me for being a coward. They knew about my feelings sooner than I did. They haven’t said too much but when they did they were… let’s just say I have a full ass “SweetZuku” ship gang inside my head.” He giggles, leaving a tiny kiss on the top of your head. “Don’t worry, they love you. Especially the first wielder. And the second, even if he denies it.”

“Tell them I said hi.” You mutter sleepily, way too comfortable in this position.

“You made them really happy by saying that. Maybe, in the future we could try and talk to them together.” Izuku smiles, elated from being understood.

“I would love that. Thank you, Izu… and the gang.” You giggle, moving your head towards Izuku’s to give him another kiss.

“I hope this kiss is only for me though. I’m a really giving guy, but I’m not sharing you.”

You laugh out loud; this reminds you of the time when Izuku got so jealous of that poor fan who asked for a selfie with you that his black whip came out in the middle of a meet and greet, scaring the shit out of the staff while the fans just took it as “fan service” and wrote poems about how cool it was to see black whip in action.

“I’m aware of that, Izu. Way too aware.” You giggle yourself as you keep peppering kisses on your boyfriend’s mouth.

“Sorry, it won’t change.” Izuku announces proudly and you are so proud of him that you are about to cry; this might sound like a red flag from anyone else, but seeing Izuku finally sticking to his opinion instead of trying to change for other people is such a big step up compared to his old self you can’t help but feel pride swelling in your chest because hell, you did that. It was a long struggle but finally, your work has payed off.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. I know you wouldn’t harm anyone nor me and it’s in your rights to be protective over your loved one so please, keep being jealous, it’s kinda hot, anyway.”

“Wow.” Izuku looks at you incredulously, extremely entertained by your answer. “I’ll… do my best to be healthily jealous then. I love the way you looked at me when I said that. In your words - it was kinda hot.” He gives you a massive grin.

“Going back to our original conversation…” you give Izuku a knowing smile. “We are really weird, but I really fucking like it.”

“That’s my girl.”

… yeah, you are definitely insatiable. There is no other explanation to why are you two heavily making out in the scorching hot onsen right now, absolutely ignoring the dizziness from being in the hot water for so long.

“Jesus Christ, can you stop making out so loud?!” Comes Kyouka’s voice from the other side of the massive privacy fence. “I’m trying to relax here!”

“Wanna take this to the bedroom, Sweets?” Izuku looks at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“I heard that!”

“He knows!” You yell to your friend as you crawl out of the water, stumbling to your towel while Izuku’s eyes move from your head to your toes shamelessly, clearly enjoying the “5 star view”. You really want to comment on it but after doing the same only a few hours ago, you have no rights to do so. “Come on, let Kyouka enjoy her solitude.”

“Yes, madam!”

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“Yup, they fucked.” Kaminari declares with a straight face, once he opens the door.

You really want to lie and say you have no idea why Kaminari thinks that’s true, because surprisingly enough, you did look into the mirror before and coming here and you did try to sort yourself out but… there are things you can’t really hide with make up; for instance, your eyes that shine like a fucking star got stuck in your irises or Izuku’s puffy lips and pink neck, still ruddy from all the kisses.

After the onsen… you two… well… uhm…

Let’s just say you couldn’t forget how Izu said he’s never done certain things in bed and that he was always on the giving side and never on the receiving side… So once you two were inside the four walls you decided to show him some other things he might have missed. You are quite sure you lost your voice during the “process” but it was absolutely worth it and Izuku got hooked on the new type of intimacy and came up with ideas of his own and… well, yeah. You are limping a little bit. Just a tiny bit. Mostly because of all the “leg training” but there’s also that other factor that you can’t even say out loud because you two are too fucking sweet to say those things. And all of these things had happened out of love so… there is no need to make it sound dirty. You two had a good time but maybe went a bit too far. Oh well, it happens.

“I really have an urge to yell about the audacity of coming to my humble abode looking like a wreck but if I would need to suffer another day with you two eye fucking each other at my table I’d probably explode myself to the other world, so just shut up and sit down.” Katsuki mutters, also with a straight face and Eijirou just sighs at that.

“At least they are not denying it. I remember you telling everyone a week ago that you got beaten up in a “secret mission” when…”

“OH MY GOD THERE WAS NO SECRET MISSION?!” Denki hollers out loud. “

“Nope. Just me. Sorry.” Eijirou gives the group the biggest grin known to mankind, not even flinching when Katsuki slaps him in the face with a kitchen towel.

After the group is finally distracted, everyone sits down to eat another gorgeous meal made by Katsuki himself, mostly talking about hero stuff and Rody’s shenanigans. The night goes well, until Kyouka brings up the hero rankings. Izuku’s whole body stiffens next to you as Kyouka starts to talk about the dress she decided on for the big event next week; the whole gang chimes in with their own choice of clothing, showing pictures on their phones back and forth, completely indifferent to the turmoil in Izuku who just stares at his leftovers and plays with a little pea in his bowl. You wordlessly try to console him by taking his clenched hand into yours; he clenches it so hard you almost yell out loud from the pain.

Something is wrong. Really wrong.

“What are you gonna wear to the Gala, Izuku?” Kirishima asks, eyes full of excitement but it changes into a look of concern once he takes a better look at the greenette.

“I’m not going to this one.”

Someone’s butter knife hits the table. Someone chokes on their drink. Everyone processes the information differently but one thing is identical; everyone looks at Izuku like he’d grown another head.

“You can’t be fucking serious.” Kyouka looks at Izuku, utterly dumbfounded.

“You are the Number One hero of this country.” Katsuki sneers. “It’s your fucking responsibility to show your cute little freckled face and make sure people know you are still there for them.” Katsuki said these words with venom in his voice; you are extremely surprised to hear Katsuki’s tone so harsh.

“I’m not there for them though, am I?” Izuku snaps back with his eyes full of tears. “I can’t fight their battles. I can’t help them. You can’t possibly ask me to show up and be all smiley and “cute” when my whole fucking career is in shambles!”

Everyone steps back for a second. There is an awkward, tension-filled silence at the table and you have no idea what to do; Izuku’s words make sense but they also don’t and you really don’t know who to stand with.

“Like it or not, he has a point.” Eijirou puts his hand on Katsuki’s shoulder. “As you can see, he’s still not okay. Let him sit this one out. It’s not worth ruining his amazing day.”

“He ruined it for himself when he started fucking yelling at me.” Katsuki stands up from the table, clearly shaken up by the whole situation; Katsuki might look like a strong person but he’s actually really sensitive; you can clearly see how wet his eyes are when he stomps into his room and slams the door on everyone.

“Kacchan!” Izuku is the next one to leave the table, running after the blonde with nothing but guilt in his teary eyes. Everyone just stares at the drama in utter silence, not really sure how to help or what to do to save this evening.

Thankfully, the fact that everyone at this table is an grown ass adult, the drama sizzles out after half an hour; Izuku and Katsuki emerges from the bedroom after some yelling and banging is heard from the other side of the door; their eyes are red rimmed and cheeks blotchy but they have their arms around each other’s shoulders and everything looks “okay”; or at least for the rest of the group who sigh happily when the two joins the Netflix-binge on the couch. Not you, though. You look at Izuku intensely, you look at the way his mouth smiles but the edges are still facing downwards, and you realize that something is still wrong; Izuku is hiding something, from the group, and from you.

Something is wrong but everyone ignores it, too happy to have the “good vibes back”.

You really feel the urge to yell at the group to look closely, to find a solution for the problem before someone gets hurt but all these heroes worked their asses off to have these few days off and you don’t have the heart to ruin their good time nor ruin Izuku’s only time where he can be out and about, far away from those four walls he is not used to be surrounded by for more than a few hours.

Will this decision bite you in the ass in the near future? Probably. Will you regret this decision a few days later? Yes… But you can’t help but smile when Izuku’s weird half-smile becomes a real one as he sits down on the sofa, snuggles into your arms while his legs end up on Katsuki’s lap who plays with the hem of his trousers in a weird, affectionate way.

“Are you okay?” You mutter into Izuku’s ears.

“No.” Izuku admits and your whole world turns upside down. “But one day…” he looks around his friends, who are all snuggled together on the sofa enjoying each other’s company, not knowing when the next time will be when they can be together like this. “One day, I’ll be okay. And that’s good. I’m happy with that for now. Sometimes, it needs to get worse before it gets better, you know.” Izuku smiles at you with a sad, but genuine smile and your heart skips a beat once again. You are so far gone for this man it’s ridiculous.

“It will all make sense, eventually.” You leave a tiny kiss on Izuku’s fluffy curls and turn back towards the TV. “I’m not worried, because if you ever get lost, I’ll be there to show you the right way.”

“And I’m counting on it.” Izuku smiles, but somehow, the sentence brought some weird eerie vibe into the room.

You try your best to read between the lines but you feel like there is a missing piece to this puzzle.

Ahh, let’s not overthink it for today. There is always a “tomorrow” to sort that shit out.

… to be continued!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

TL: @garfieldthomas @porusuniverse @stickygumchewer @sixxze @mily-moo @aei-sedai-moiraine @aymasakusa @katsuari @kenzie-deadly @shiviwrites07 @lukerycyja-reblogs @cloroxisadelectabletreat @coffeent @kisskissshutmydoor @bobcar1 @yazminetrahan @cringefan @ronimacaroni77 @themultifandomgirl @dangerousluv1 @emperatris-rinaka @shotos-angelic-whore @angelsdemonsmonsters @norvacaine @rei165 @unofficialmuilover @yao-ai @happydragonfrog @eeerreehhh @vinivave @alyss-eiz @sleepisfortheweakpooh

Potato ramble:

- Long time no see, guys. I know I have a lot of explanation to do but I’ll spare you from the gruesome details as I genuinely think no one deserves to even go through all the shit I’ve suffered even through another person.

But if you want to get a short version then here you are, but you don’t need to read it if you don’t want to.

The short story is: I’ve had two traumatic experiences in the last 3 years which made me extremely weak mentally but I always pushed through by saying “until this one person is with me I’ll be fine.” Well, this person stabbed me in the back in the most evil way, while I was the weakest, which ended up completely ruining me and traumatizing me once more (therapist’s words, not mine, I’m not being overly dramatic, just factual.) I live far away from my small family (2 hours with a plane) and I didn’t want to run away from my new home as I knew I’ll never have the balls to come back all alone so I had to endure all of my mental struggles without my family’s support. The only reason I’m still alive is my friends and my family who worked their asses off to keep me alive through the phone, and my work colleagues who never let me out of their sight and called me over so I don’t have time to think. I also have a therapist now which does wonders. So yeah, I literally didn’t have the mental energy to even give you guys a heads up.

I’m still struggling and I’ll probably never be the same but I’m trying my hardest; I gained all the weight back that I’ve lost (I was 45 kg to start with so me losing weight really wasn’t a good thing, I literally looked like a skeleton it was a nightmare), I started working out (in a healthy way) and I’m trying to get back to my old self. Please be patient with me.

- I have 3 or four chapters already written hence I decided to start posting again! I wanted to wait until the full story is done but I miss communicating with you and I also like to hear your thoughts before I write a chapter hence I decided to yolo it and start posting but please be patient with me. I still have breakdowns sometimes and I’m having a hard time writing about romantic things as my whole life is in shambles. But I really like this story (and the Kirishima one too! You will need to wait a little bit longer though 😭) so I decided to try and finish it.

- On a more positive note; look at my new rainbow flat! There is MHA in every single corner, even in the toilet btw, I’m living that best single life right now with my purple sofa, a magenta rug and fairy lights! With that said, see you in the next chapter! Please send me your thoughts 🩷 (Also, there is some angst incoming but this is the last one. Only good things after that!)

[darklinaforever]

God help me...

First off, what the hell are you doing in Wyler tag ? What's your fucking problem with pissing off people who didn't ask for anything ?!

But let's see the rest of your bullshit in detail and tear it down as we go along.

But this ship is very much dead. There is hardly any traction towards it because the people who ship it make no sense when they defend it. They sound like they could be mentally ill...

Weird, Wyler is the most popular ship with Wenclair though. And for a dead ship, Netflix still took the trouble to make Wyler the first teaser for the new season...

And how do we make no sense ? It's you who had no interest in repeating things that the show and the show team have themselves contradicted for years now about Tyler's character.

And it's you who comes into Wyler's spaces to piss off and obsessively spill your venom. It seems that you are the one who is mentally ill...

I don't know how crooked you have to be to say that you're crooked to ship a canonical ship. Already, this is not even said for fanon ships, but even less canon. What are you trying to prove here ? You're shooting yourself in the foot by coming in to tag Wyler to insult us and try to seem like the smartest person when you seem like the stupidest.

By the way ; Do you think you're smart to say that kind of thing ?! That we are mentally ill ?!

Wow, for say that you must really hate the fact that Wyler is the first official trailer / teaser of season 2, otherwise you clearly wouldn't be here trying to impose your pseudo dominance...

I guess Emma Myers (Enid actress) is mentally ill then, since she says most of the same things we do about Tyler...

And not to mention Hunter himself who spoke of sexual compatibility between Wyler, that Wednesday had been Tyler's light during the events of season 1 and that if he had to imagine his character ending up with someone it would be her ?

You're really a piss of shit.

And I won't apologize for saying that.

You allow yourself to insult us with enormous condescension that you try to pass off as a form of kindness in the rest of your post ? Well, I will insult you in return, but head-on this time.

You are a big piss of shit. That all.

Tyler almost killed Wednesday and all her friends + he manipulated her like a professional and she felt humiliated because she never even suspected him and put a good person in jail because of him.

She will never forgive herself, let alone him.

Yes... and ? First, Tyler “tries to kill” Eugene essentially under the orders of Laurel, his master to whom he is forced to obey and who tortured him ? Note also that Laurel technically didn't tell Tyler to kill Eugene but to take care of him and that strangely, he's the only victim of Tyler who escaped death ?

Coincidence ? Maybe not !

And if you want an explanation for Enid, it is implied that the Hyde offers a second personality, different from the human version ? So, technically, the Hyde is not Tyler. It's a second personality. Why is everyone forgetting the recording of the psychologist that Donovan listens to ?! Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, you know ?!

Literally, these people are being dishonest on purpose.

Also... again, Wednesday doesn't blame Tyler specifically for nearly killing her friends. First, it would be bad faith, because she also did it in the show with Enid, but above all, it's a question of ego. No really justice in her anger towards Tyler.

She is mainly angry at Tyler because, yes, he managed to fool her and her intelligence. And she is deeply hurt in her ego and personal feelings.

But how would his anger on this subject be eternal ? On what fucking basis ?! Tell me !

Once this aspect calms down in her, everything will surely be better and she could potentially look again at the case of the Hydes whose research remains incomplete (which have always deeply interested her on the other hand), and therefore Tyler.

But to return to her friends, Enid and Eugene are fine. Wednesday can recover from what Tyler almost did to them. Especially since Eugene was under Laurel's orders (and strangely, Tyler who could have easily killed Eugene... strangely didn't do it ?), and that Enid explains it by the fact that Tyler was in Hyde mode, his second monstrous personality, that he doesn't seem to really have control over ?

But more than that, Wednesday is a person who generally takes those treated most unfairly under her wing. And Tyler is probably the one who has been in this sad situation the most.

That she hates him forever makes no fucking sense ; since although she is angry for the moment because her ego is hurt, she knows that Tyler had a shitty family life, was groomed by Laurel who woke up his Hyde thus forcing him to become her puppet and imposing a bond that makes Tyler want and love what his mistress wants.

Then again, it wouldn't make sense for Wednesday to be mad at Tyler forever...

Oh and... Just for pleasure : “Of course the first boy I kiss would turn out to be a psychotic serial-killing monster. I guess I have a type.”

Also... Wednesday didn't put Xavier in the cell because Tyler manipulated her into doing so ? Wednesday did this all by herself like a grown-up ! 😂 Because, for the recording, Wednesday is a narrow-minded and toxic person. And believe me, of all the people Wednesday could have upset and blamed herself for this, Xavier is the one she will get over the quickest. Because ultimately she just likes him as a classmate and childhood acquaintance. And again I'm being nice... because most of the time she actually just tolerates him.

Oh and Wednesday finally saved everyone at the end of season 1. Given her ego and her anti-heroine nature, I think she will eventually recover from her own mistakes / forgive herself. 😂

I get that some people are shipping them as some kind of kink ( monster serial killer with Wednesday addams) 😏. But this kind of shipping starts and stays in the dark corners of the internet.

This ship can't be acknowledged by a streaming platform to the general public ( which includes millions of kids).

Just... God, if you think Wyler is an impossible relationship to fix, then you've never read or seen a real enemies to lovers romance !

I literally read one romance where the guy almost killed the heroine forever by stabbing her in the heart ! And if it weren't for the intervention of other characters, she would have died ! And yet at the end of the story, they're happily married !

The enemies to lovers trope isn't as fragile as these morons think it is !

One mistake and the relationship is dead forever ? Wow...

Wyler is also so soft in that category too ! The antis seem like a bunch of fragile people when they talk about Wyler.

Literally every time these people try to put the Wylers down they just make fools of themselves. Because they just bring up arguments that have been contradicted a billion times or are comically weak, or they just say bullshit that is simply not true.

I repeat, enemies to lovers have existed since the dawn of time, it's literally one of the most popular and represented tropes in existence ! Whether in children's fiction or for a general audience !

What cave are you living in to dare to say that Wyler cannot be recognized by a general public ?!

Even in super popular books you have thousand times worse than Wyler ?!

“The general public can't handle Wyler” My god... hello Delena, Klaroline, Clarice & Hannibal, ect ?!

For information, as shocking as it may be The Vampire Diaries was seen by many children / teenagers in addition to adults in time. All my friends at the time and I were kids when this show started and we watched it, like so many others.

Hence children and the general public couldn't handle Wyler ? Wyler is as soft as fucking Reylo ?! Another great ship that the general public and children loved.

This is one of the biggest bad take I've ever seen ! The confidence you need to say this kind of stupidity ?!

Seriously, wtf ?!

Although he was groomed, Tyler was a willing participant in the crimes that he committed and he even told Wednesday that he enjoyed killing innocent people. Millar and gough folded the wyler book forever in that scene.

Tyler can never be trusted enough around outcasts to be released.

It's literally said in the show that the hyde is conditioned to like what its master likes and want what his master wants. It's not even ambiguous. It's said in the fucking text of the show.

And I remember that Tyler makes his fucking confession to Wednesday with tears in his eyes. Yes, what a great villain...

Oh and if you need to talk about the non-canon novelization of the show that most of Wednesday's audience hasn't read and never will read to prove your point about a canon scene and events from the show, we're going to have a problem.

They're the ones who sound like mentally ill repeating over and over again that Tyler absolutely loves killing without any fucking doubt... 🙄

And they go so far as to agree that the Hyde should be excluded ? While the show is literally about the treatment of the marginalized ? The excluded from society ?

And they think it's positive that there is a category of outcast among the outcasts themselves ?!

Clearly not.

The treatment of Hyde is something that needs to change in this show !

And for that, we first need to finish understanding how these creatures really work.

But hey... Not as if we had incomplete research on the subject, that Wednesday is interested in it and that she just happens to have a Hyde on hand to look into the subject... I wonder where this scenario could lead us ?!

But certainly not to a questioning of the treatment of these creatures by the society of this story according to the antis (#irony) ?! Of course, nothing will ever change for the Hydes ! They are too dangerous ! Long live the status quo !

This is driving me crazy !

Yes, what the hell would Wednesday who defends the oppressed and the victims, have to do with Tyler, the outcast of outcasts himself who was groomed by a psycho who triggered the Hyde in him to use him as a puppet and who has the equivalent of a mental illness by being a Hyde. Hyde by which she is fascinated, and who it is implied that she will complete the unfinished research on them ?!

Seriously, the writers racked their brains to write us a character like Tyler, a teenager with multiple problems, including family problems, a victim of abuse and whose hyde (the creature marginalized among the marginalized themselves, knowing that the whole message of the show is to accept the marginalized in reality) seems to be the equivalent of a mental illness, for people to be like “Yes, this guy is a pure villain who cannot have redemption ! He is rotten and the show is right when it says that the Hyde are too dangerous for the world ! Nothing must change and nothing aspires to a change of point of view on these creatures in a show where we are encouraged to accept the marginalized (and whose hyde is the marginald of the marginalized himself) through the only Hyde that we meet in person throughout the story who is only a teenager victim of abuse with the metaphor of mental illness !”

Seriouslly, the “Tyler will never be put back with the other outcasts because he's too dangerous” take it's so fucking stupid for a show about outcasts and injustices...

We present to you the outcast of the outcast, whose case in terms of creature has never been finished studying...

And you think Tyler will forever remain an outcast among his people and locked up for life ?!

WTF ?!

These people are tiring me out...

Because it lacks the "genuine" element: there is no love between Wednesday and Tyler.

I would like to understand how Wyler lacks romantic elements ? They literally have one of the most classic storylines in the world in terms of romance ? What the hell are you talking about ? Developed ? What would be missing ? My god, what bullshit. If you want analysis of the Wyler relationship you have my tumblr or those of @fullofwoe5321 @tylernation @wylerserver18official @ablatheringblatherskite @cosmic-lullaby @broken-everlark

Tyler and Wednesday only have one scene in season 2, according to the leaks we got. So this teaser is very much bait for the fans who still like them together 😏. Netflix is yet again giving false hope to fandoms about something that isn't going to happen.

Saying that Wyler will only have one scene in season 2 according to the leaks...

Are you aware that the leaks are not always true ?

Are you aware that it wouldn't make sense for Wednesday and Tyler to only have one scene together ?

Because a teaser is supposed to give an indication of what the new season will be about overall ?

Oh but am I stupid. In your stupid little shit head you think that Tyler will now always be locked up for life. In that case, why keep the character in the show ?

Fucking idiot...

You really have to be in complete disillusionment to say that this trailer / teaser will be the only scene between them in all of season 2 while a teaser serves to show the viewer what will generally be the center of the new plot.

Oh, and no official romance in season 2 doesn't mean no romance in the rest of the show, FYI. Especially since it is completely logical that Wyler (if these two were to end up together one day) wouldn't they go back into in love mode in season 2 ? They have a fucking relationship to repair first and also work on themselves each as an individual person ? Also, most Wyler fans, without even the announcement of a reduction in the romance being made, certainly did not expect the romance between Wyler to return straight away for season 2, simply because on a narrative level it would not have not been logical... Seriously, go find another hobby other than annoying people.

And even if Wyler doesn't end up together at the end of the show, despite all the logic of this romance, do you think that will stop us fans from shipping Wyler ?!

Obviously, you are clinging to Xavier when it is clear that nothing more will happen (since the character was removed from the show because the actor was accused of sexual assault) ?

Seriously, this person seems obsessed with the character of Xavier (who could have been an interesting character but who in fact remains generally average and a real potential ultimate shit boyfriend)...

But they got a slap in the face 🙂. since the teaser was met with massive backlash about the most unethical thing they did: dropping an innocent man and Convicting him of crimes he never committed...

Except the comments you showed don't show people being outraged that Xavier was sent to prison when he did nothing, just that they will miss Xavier's character.

You're thinking all by yourself, big girl (this is obviously a recurrence among the anti-Wylers).

And then “they did” ? What is she talking about ? Wyler fans ? Was it Wyler's fans who put Xavier in jail ? 😂

I repeat, you can only blame Wednesday for Xavier ending up in prison. Tyler has nothing to do with it, he never tried to accuse anyone to keep suspicion away from him. Wednesday suspected Xavier alone as a grown-up.

I'm so angry that this kind of crap is getting into the Wyler tag. Don't these people have anything better to do ?

I feel like I'm back in Reylo's time ! Because Reylo and Wyler are some of the softest ships in terms of enemies to lovers that I have seen and people act like they are some of the worst things in the world and that these ships are too hardcore for a general audience and calls us mentally ill for our thoughtful argument, which is ridiculous.

It's truly ridiculous and cheeky.

They just repeat the same bullshit over and over again, contradicted by the show itself and the show team !

At this point, we're not the ones who look ridiculous. It was them.

[hippiegoth97]

Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story - Epilogue

Collage by me :)

Master List

Part 45

Tag List: @keikoraven @ar-jupiter @alcielo1438 @cairro-xx @stolen-in-moonlight

@micheledawn1975 @janiejenn @rafescvntyclubgf @melodymunson @spacedoutdaydreamer

@veemoon @sariahs-stuff @feral-pumpkin-energy @comeonatmebruh @munsoneightysixx

@morgthemagpie @josephquinnsfreckles @jenniquinn @songbirdmunson @cometzombie

@spookybabey @daggerdaggerkitten @nina6708 @sanctumdemunson @yourdailymemedelivery

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@mediocredreams @bloodibambiidoll @taintedcigs @ali-r3n @emxxblog

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, mentions of smut, fluff, happy endings for everyone!

Word Count: 2.5k

divider by @strangergraphics

Epilogue: Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now

Two years later, September 3rd, 1992...

"You ready for your first day, love?" Eddie asks from the kitchen. He's packing lunches for the two of you, which consists of sandwiches, apples, and homemade cookies.

"Almost, I can't seem to find my special bag." You call to him, sounding rather frustrated as you search the apartment. Mom bought you a gorgeous leather bag to carry your teaching materials in, with 'Mrs. Munson' etched onto the strap in elegant script. You've been looking forward to using it, now that you've gotten your license to teach and are finally taking over all Hawkins High science classes. It's officially the first day of the 1992-1993 school year, and you've misplaced the one thing that'll keep you from losing your head today. 

"Hold on, I'll help ya find it." Eddie replies as he finishes up, closing the lunch boxes once everything is placed inside nicely. He brings them to the living room, finding you bent over the couch as you search behind it. If you weren't in such a hurry, he'd have a mind to smack that perfectly plump ass of yours. It's looking particularly slapable in the long denim skirt you're wearing today. He bites his lip as he holds himself off, calmly walking up to you to help you out. "Any luck?" He asks softly, putting a gentle hand on your back.

"Nope." You sigh, turning around and plopping onto the sofa. "I can't believe it. My first day, and I've already lost everything I need to go to work." You scoff at yourself, unable to feel like anything but a failure in this moment. You've been making yourself sick the last couple of weeks, stressing over every little thing. 'What if the kids don't like me?' 'What if the kids don't listen to me?' 'What if I make a fool of myself?' 'What if none of the other teachers take me seriously?' These are all the questions that have been swirling inside your mind, as well as verbalized to Eddie on countless occasions. All of which have earned endless reassurances that you can, and will, be a great teacher. But right now, that concept doesn't ring true for you at all.

"Y/N, I'm sure it's here somewhere." Eddie replies kindly, checking his watch. You still have a half-hour before you need to be at the school to set up. "We've got time. Lemme take a look, fresh eyes and all that." He says, leaving you sulking as he walks down the hall. He checks the bedroom, and the closet. Nada. He doubles back to the kitchen, even opening up the fridge in case your brain got scattered. Nope. Lastly, he checks the bathroom, where you spent a good hour smoothing down your clothes, fixing your hair, and making sure your makeup wasn't 'too whorish'. He finds your leather bag resting on the counter by the sink, he lets out a relieved breath and grins. He brings it back to you, though your head is currently resting shamefully in your hands. "Sweetheart?" He asks, prompting you to look up at him.

Your eyes meet his, before falling onto the blasted bag. "Where the hell was it?" You ask, sure you had checked everywhere, like, ten times. 

"Bathroom." He replies simply.

"Oh, figures. That's the last place I'd look." You giggle, taking the bag from him. "Thanks, baby. You always know how to keep me sane." You stand up, giving him a small peck. "We'd better get going, I wanna get there early." You say.

"Aren't you already getting there early?" Eddie asks, confused.

"For normal people, yes. But, I need to make sure everything is extra perfect." You say matter-of-factly, though you're absolutely beaming in the eyes. You're exceptionally anxious about today, but you're also happy to start your new career. You've found your passion, and worked very hard to get where you are. 

"Whatever you say, babydoll." He shrugs, following you towards the front door. You both gather your keys and jackets, giving Arwen a farewell pet before leaving for the day. Eddie drives you to the school, pulling up into the teacher's lot at the back of the building. "Here we are, princess." He says, gesturing towards the structure he loathes to this very day.

"Yep. Here we are." You nod, gripping hard on the handles of your lunch box and teaching bag. As excited as you are to get started, you can't help feeling a little overwhelmed as you stare at the empty school.

"Hey, look at me." Eddie pipes up, and you turn to look at him. He puts a hand over yours, gazing at you adoringly. "You're gonna do great in there, honey. The kids are gonna love you. Everything will be fine." He speaks calmly to you, putting your jitters to rest.

"Promise?" You ask as a confident smile creeps across your face.

"Promise." He answers sincerely, leaning in to give you a good-bye kiss. You meet him in the middle, the feeling of his lips on yours calming you down further. "Now, get your hot teacher ass in there! Hawkins High better watch out!" Eddie chuckles goofily, shooing you out of the car. You do as he says, making a show of swaying your hips as you walk towards the school. He whoops from the rolled-down window, and you turn around and walk backwards to wave at him. He returns it, before turning the key to get the engine running. "Have a good day, Mrs. Munson!" He cheers as he pulls out of the parking space.

"I will!" You shout back, cheeks turning pink as joy overtakes you. You spin back around to head inside, listening to the van driving away to take Eddie to work. He'd decided to get a more adult job recently, at the local auto shop. He's pretty handy with cars, as it turns out, and having an in with the owner isn't a bad thing, either. The pay is good, he gets to work with his hands all day, and he's left looking sexy as all hell at the end of his shift. 

You're picturing it in your mind right now as you make your way through the school halls. Blue jumpsuit, stained with oil and grease, the top half tied around his waist with an equally dirty white t-shirt underneath. His curly mane tied back in a messy ponytail, a few strands framing his face. And the best part, dark streaks of what you lovingly call 'car gunk' all over his pretty skin. On his hands, his arms, little smudges on his nose and cheeks. Sometimes on his chest, if the day is hot enough and he ditches the shirt. Fuck, you've never seen a man look so gorgeous while doing manual labor. You may have stopped in a few times to 'get your oil changed' or 'brakes checked' to catch a glimpse of him in action, which usually leads to him taking an early lunch and railing you in the back office. Thankfully, no one seems to bat an eye when you leave with grease marks on your clothes afterwards.

Just as you stop fantasizing about your beautiful husband, you're right outside your very own classroom. Your name is engraved on a plate mounted beside the door, telling you this is your new domain. You're already quite familiar with the space, having learned under Mrs. O'Donnell for the past couple years. Plus, you had a few weeks to come in and whip up lesson plans and arrange the room as you see fit. You take a deep breath, and pull the door open to get started. And once you step through that threshold, everything feels like it's falling into place.

Speaking of things following their natural order, quite a lot has changed since the summer of 1990. Dustin's starting his senior year at Cal-Tech, which will be followed by an internship at NASA. He's apparently one of the best and brightest the university has seen in a very long time, to no one's surprise. He's moving up in the world, getting all these wonderful opportunities, and you couldn't be happier for him. As for Mom, she's not too keen on the whole continued long-distance thing, but she's so proud of him in spite of that. She's been doing alright for herself as of late, joining a romance novel book club with Mrs. Wheeler and Mrs. Sinclair. They're big fans of pulp fiction, it seems. 

Other developments within your long-extended family are numerous. The Hellfire kids are thriving under Erica's rule, who's proving to be a more formidable Dungeon Master than even Eddie himself. You've played a few campaigns with them, when the timing is right given everyone's busy schedule. You haven't won a single one, which makes Erica far too pleased for her own good. She's managed to stump the former head honcho himself, totally schooling him in the game time and again. She's quite the mastermind, which will prove useful in her pursuit of a career in criminal psychology. The other kids have pretty general goals, most of them wanting to follow in their parents' footsteps. 

Nancy's five months pregnant with her and Jonathan's first child, a little baby girl. Nancy is really nervous, but Jonathan is overjoyed by the prospect of being a dad. He's been reading all the baby books, learning everything he can to be a team player for his beautiful, glowing wife. You've seen the sonogram, and Mom helped Karen throw a wonderful baby shower for the mother to be. That was a lot of fun, hanging out with all the other ladies in the group, having fancy tea and sandwiches while giving Nancy everything she needs for when the baby arrives. She even made Robin and Vickie the god-parents, which was really sweet. The overall idea of having kids may be a bit foreign to you, and always will be. But it's nice to share in the joy of your friends. 

Steve and Chrissy, on the other hand, are just recently getting serious. He popped the question to her a few months ago, the two of them wanting to take things slow. It's really paid off, they are honestly one of the happiest couples you've ever seen. Chrissy managed to convince Jason to sign the divorce papers from prison, which was a shock. But she said he knew there was no winning her back at this point, so he set her free. Perhaps some hard time has helped him see what an awful man he used to be, and he wants to make things right. Either way, Steve is very much looking forward to making an honest woman out of Chrissy, as well as officially adopting JJ as his own son. In regards to the upcoming wedding, both you and Eddie have been asked to be in the bridal party. Robin is going to be Steve's 'best woman', and Vickie is the maid of honor. She's surprisingly gotten really close with Chrissy, sharing similar tastes in clothes and movies, as well as having overbearing parents. It's a friendship no one expected, but it's a welcome one.

Robin and Vickie have moved in together, sharing a quiet little house on the edge of town, with an acre or so of land along with it. They have a few chickens, a cow, a goat, and some honeybees. It's their own little homestead, growing food for themselves and selling some at a small, colorfully-decorated stand they have on the side of the country road. Robin's become oddly outdoorsy as time has passed, but it's more that she wants to share this thriving, private space with the woman she loves. They've had you and the others over a few times for dinner, which always ends outside at a massive fire pit they've dug out back. It's warm and cozy at their place, and you never fail to leave there with a massive smile on your face after wonderful food and conversation.

The Hopper/Byers family have plans to move back to Hawkins, missing everyone way too much to be so far away any longer. You're looking forward to having them back in town, they really are a great bunch. Hopper's aiming to get his job back at the police station, but more as a detective than anything else. The town has had a bit of a boom as of late, expanding as more people come looking for that sweet, suburban paradise. With said growth has come new shops and restaurants, though the tried and true landmarks of this place have been going stronger than ever, despite a little friendly competition. This growth also calls for a facelift of tax-paid services to maintain it all, which includes the police department. It's nice to watch this once dingy little town turn into a real spot on the map. A humble spot, but a spot worth taking a second glance at, that's for sure. 

Last, but not least, there's the matter of Wayne. Given that he's been getting on in years, he decided to retire shortly after you and Eddie got married. He felt like his job was finally done. He'd raised his scared, scrawny nephew up into a fearless, beautiful young man. So, he quit his job at the plant, and now spends his time traveling around in a small RV. He got a sweet basset hound named Bessie to keep him company on his adventures, visiting every silly tourist attraction and crappy motel this country has to offer. He also sends you postcards, of which you receive at least three a week. You've gotten cards from the Corn Palace in South Dakota, Roswell in New Mexico, the Blue Whale of Catoosa, and many, many more. They give you and Eddie a good laugh whenever you check the mail, and you always call Wayne at whatever motor park number he writes down on the cards the night that you get them. 

All in all, everybody is doing really well. Everyone has their own things going on, finding contentment in whatever that means for them. After years of loss, and tragedy, and general upheaval in this once-sleepy town of Hawkins, Indiana, it's more than earned. You've all taken the bad and the ugly in stride, and the good is well worth all the hardship you've worked through to get it. Everything is exactly as it's meant to be, despite life trying its hardest to throw obstacle after obstacle in your path. They say happy endings only exist in movies, and it would be naïve to say that no challenges will come your way ever again. But, the fact is, now that you've formed such strong bonds with one another, you know you can make it through. And as far as you're concerned, that's a happy ending if you've ever seen one. The knowledge that, no matter what happens, you'll always have people you love by your side to get through it.

[iknowwhereyousleepatnight]

oh i was just reminded that u can go to school abroad

[fridgedeeznuts]

thinking abt this video im watching between two artists chatting and how at some point the painting part of painting becomes the easiest part of painting, and most of the work is actually about the preparation of the piece, and anything else that is more work during the piece is shit that u forgot to cover in ur prep work,,,,

[talaok]

Win Again

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x sex worker f!reader

Summary: Marcus has won yet another match, so to reward him, his master has granted him another hour with you.

warning: smut| unprotected piv, oral (f receiving), a whole lot of manhandling, he like uses your body idk how to explain it, multiple orgasms, and once again unnecessary feelings cause im not able to write something where they just fuck for some reason

a/n: i know im two days late but PLEASE read this still. (also) basic things for this guy that i've decided are canon: 1)he has a monster cock, like actually scarily big, 2) he's real fucking strong (hulk typa shit), 3) he's not a big talker (but he is a grunter). I need this man to fuck me more than i need my next breath (real), also i did so much research for this fic and you cant even fucking tell

It wasn't often that you didn't dread going to the barracks.

These were strong, ferocious, and dangerous men, and you were but a meek lamb in comparison.

But today was different, today you were seeing him, him who fit the previous description to a tee, and yet was so different from any man you had ever offered your services to.

And perhaps it was because it never felt like you were ever offering anything, ever since that first night, you had never given anything you hadn't wanted to.

The guards stopped as you arrived at his room and you felt a wave of excitement crawl up your spine the moment they opened the door, waiting for you to enter.

The armored men stepped aside to let you pass, the cobblestones on the ground sounding against your sandals as you made your way inside, looking back at the door just in time to see it being shut close.

It was his breathing you heard first, his heavy breathing coming from where you knew his bed sat on the room's left, and seconds after, the creaks of the wood as he stood up, his feet stalking your way.

You turned to him then, a smile almost making it to your lips as you saw him alive before you once again, granting yourself a second to relish in the fact he still breathed, he was still here.

"You've won again" you spoke softly, your hands slowly finding the string holding your dress together.

He didn't respond. The window behind him caused the moon's soft glow to fall on the stone floor, but not on his beautiful face, that, you had to watch closely to inspect.

A newer cut right above his left eyebrow had appeared, and his right arm was bandaged almost completely, but otherwise, he looked fine.

His eyes remained on yours until you'd undone the dress, until it fell at your feet- then, a low groan rumbled from his chest as he took you in, and took his turn inspecting every inch of your bare figure.

"How do you want m-"

You didn't have time to finish your sentence that he'd picked you up, effortlessly pulling your body up until your legs slung over his shoulders and his face was buried in your cunt.

He hadn't even given you a second to realize what was happening that his tongue was already lapping between your folds, desperately drinking everything your body gave him.

"Oh my g-" you threw your head back, your skull finding the wall behind you being the only reason you realized he'd moved, and you were now caged between him and stone as you forgot how to speak.

The moans you had faked so many times for so many clients were nothing like the ones your mouth was spilling now, these were higher, coarser, feral, and the way you were gripping his hair... there was no way that didn't hurt.

"Y-You only" a whine interrupted your words when you felt his tongue plunge into your hole, when he started fucking you with it just like he would with his cock "You only h-have me for an hour" you breathed, your thighs squeezing tighter around him contradicting the words you were about to speak "d-don't you want me to p-please you?"

His grip on your ass only tightened and his mouth halfheartedly parted from your core to answer you.

"You are"

And just like that, he'd gone back to work. The moment his mouth closed around your clit you knew you were done for, you knew there was no point in fighting what was inevitably going to come, and so you shut your eyes, as he brought you to heaven.

Your moans were getting higher and higher as your back arched to feed more of yourself to him, desperately craving the feel of his touch, of his nouse, of his beard against your thighs, of the lips he so devoutly was using to suck on your most sensitive spot.

"F-fuck- general I-" The fist you had wrapped around his hair tightened as every muscle in your belly did the same "Oh!"

Somehow, through all the chaos, while you were coming all over his face, while your moans reached levels never reached before, the only thing you could feel or hear, besides pure ecstasy of course, were his groans, his groans as he drank up every drop of your juices, as if your orgasm was bringing his as much pleasure as it was to you.

You barely had time to open your eyes that his strong, big hands and even stronger, bigger arms had pulled you down until your legs hugged his waist instead.

You really did weigh nothing for him, and if that wasn't enough to prove it, the next minutes definitely would.

Your heavy breathing was fanning over his mouth as he freed his cock from his pants, but while you were expecting him to kiss you, having been blatantly staring at your mouth since he had any way of seeing it, every thought in your brain turned to dust when with one hard fucking thrust, he drove his cock into you- or the first few inches at least.

You couldn't talk, you could do nothing but throw your head back as your eyes rolled to the back of it, and let him take whatever he wanted to take.

"I'm not a general anymore," he said with another thrust, stretching you out even further, even deeper.

You wanted to laugh at his words. Now? Now he was feeling the need to correct you? When you could barely breathe, let alone think?

But he didn't look interested in hearing a response from you, not when he grabbed your waist, and definitely not when he started moving you up and down on his shaft with just the sheer force of his muscles.

The moans, the lewd moans that crawled up your throat were filthy, even filthier than the sound of how wet, how unbelievably drenched you were as he plunged into you over and over, as he literally used you as a fucktoy, filling you up more and more, until he was finally sat inside you to the very hilt, until his pubic hairs were grazing your skin and the tip of his cock was touching your cervix.

"Oh my god" you whimpered, feeling tears prick your eyes as your toes curled at the feeling.

You could feel him everywhere, everywhere.

But he didn't pause, he wasn't one to take his time, and perhaps that was because he didn't have much; he resumed his movements again, retracting his hips while he pulled you up his cock, and slamming into you while pushing you down on it, leaving you breathless, a simple doll at his mercy.

His groans and growls were deep and filled with lust, just like the way he bent down to take your left tit into his mouth, just like the way he was fucking you, deep and hard, and God- God it was happening again.

"s-shit" you squeaked, your walls squeezing around him as you bit your lip, so fucked out you could barely remember your name or anything at all that wasn't how good he was making you feel.

"O-Oh my fuck-"

The arms you had intertwined behind his neck tightened with every spasm of your hole, with every flutter of your belly, until you'd come once more.

You opened your eyes, letting them trail downwards, to where his lips parted to suck in ragged breaths, begging him for a kiss.

"again" he said instead, and your eyes widened as you felt him starting to move anew

"I-I can't"

He looked at you now, really looked at you, his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead, his chest heaving as he breathed heavily, and then- then he kissed you. Marcus Acacius kissed you the same way he'd been fucking you for the last hour: like an animal.

It was a mess of teeth and tongues and yet it felt like the best thing on earth, better than wine, better than life, even better than the sex- it was perfect.

"again" he ordered once more, and what could you do, if not comply?

So he started again, he started fucking you again, even more ferociously than the previous time, even if you didn't think it possible.

The way his skin slapped with yours was drowned by both your desperate sounds, your legs started to tremble, beginning to fall from his hips as he moved you up and down his cock like it were nothing, and you- you didn't even know where you were anymore.

"please" you begged, a single tear of pleasure, of overstimulation falling to your cheek as he kissed you again, muting all your cries as he drove himself into you like a madman, like he was possessed.

"Time's up"

Two knocks sounded from the other side of the wall together with the warning, and you thanked Marcus for having rendered you such a mess because otherwise, that would have reminded you of how little time you two ever had, and how miserable everything really was.

His movements sped up at the notice, his dick plunging into you over and over and over until finally, it was happening again.

"give it to me" he said, and you did exactly as he asked- you gave it all to him, screaming and crying you let him have all you had to offer, feeling his eyes on you the whole time.

He came loudly just after you, groaning deeply as he filled you up to the very brim.

Out of all the words you could have said to him then, all the things you wanted to tell him at that moment, you chose none, because none would have said anything he didn't already know from the look in your eyes, from the same exact spark in your irises that ignited his own.

So he helped you to the ground until you stood on shaky legs, walked to where your dress lay on the floor, and dressed yourself again, his eyes never leaving you.

The door opened just as you were done, and you turned to him one last time again, a smile pulling at your lips.

"Win again for me, general"

He looked at you too for one last time again, as he thought about how you didn't know, you didn't know how big of a role you played in his victories, how many times he could only think of the taste of you, smell of you, feel and voice of you as he took his opponent's life, as he fought for another hour with you, another second.

"I will" he promised

[aemondsbabe]

The Gods and Everyone

summary: you and aemond sorely overestimate how much time you have before a small council meeting, which leaves the two of you in quite a scandalous predicament

pairing: aemond targaryen x reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, cockwarming, public sex, slight breeding kink, fingering, aemond being an absolute menace, dirty talk, aegon being a little shit but what else is new, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 5.6k

a/n: based on an anon request for cockwarming! i hope you're still with me and that you enjoy this, friend! sorry it took me so long to get to it!

creds to @bbygirl-aemond for the gif!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

You watch, concerned, as your husband flits around the Small Council chamber, your eyes following his lithe form as he checks and re-checks the parchment with notes he had written for himself earlier that morning – you’d awoken in the pale hour just before sunrise to see him already hunched over the small desk in your chambers, scribbling away furiously with a quill, his pale hair glowing in the dim light of the candle next to him. All of your attempts to lure him back into bed with you had fallen on deaf ears. 

“You know you needn't do all this,” you point out, perched against the Small Council table, your eyes tracking him as he paces back and forth across the space, going over his notes for the upteenth time, “Your only job is to be on time like everyone else, husband.”

“Things will improve with time,” he rushes out, fixing you with a pointed look, “Hardly two moons have passed since Viserys…” He pauses, pinching the bridge of his nose, “The least I can do is ease this transition for Aegon and mother.”

“My love, it is a transition for us all,” you soothe, striding to him and gently taking his hand. His fingers, rough from all his years of training with swords and spears, instantly wrap around your own as he lets out a tired sigh, “You included. Aegon named you Master of War, not master of everything.” 

“I know,” Aemond murmurs, eye softening as his gaze traces over you, “I find it hard to be still when there is so much chaos – Dorne has yet to be subdued and there are whispers of rebellion from the North. There is so much still to be accounted for.”

“I understand,” you reassure him, your fingers threading through his long, silvery hair, lips quirking into a smile as the gesture makes his eye flutter closed for a second. “But all this stress cannot be good for you, husband,” you sigh, gazing up at him with a mournful smile, “You need rest and calm and…and I need you.” You nearly whisper, blush creeping across your cheeks as Aemond’s eye darkens. 

“Sweetling—“ He starts with a sigh. 

“Aemond, please,” you cut him off, wrapping your arms around his trim waist as you lay your head against his chest, his heart thumping in your ear, “I cannot bear to hear another excuse, I feel as if you have been away for weeks.” 

He’s quiet for a moment, wrapping his long, lean arms tightly around you as he rests his chin on your head, your breaths the only sound in the stony chamber. “I’m sorry,” he finally whispers, smoothing a hand up and down your back, “I miss you too, my sweet girl.” 

You hum, leaning further into his embrace after going without it for so long, “You haven’t touched me in weeks.” You say quietly, his touch already igniting a spark in the pit of your stomach. 

“Perhaps tonight,” his breath is warm against the top of your head as he speaks into your hair, “I will try to cut my meeting with–”

“You’ve been saying that for weeks,” you cut him off once more with a sigh, pulling back to look up at him, “I can’t take anymore, my love, I need to feel you.” You whine, nearly petulant like a spoiled child. If it were any other time, if you were any less desperate, you’d be embarrassed at your behavior. Right now, though, you could not find it within yourself to care as you stared into your husband’s darkened eye, finally feeling the passion you had gone so many weeks without. 

Aemond chuckles as he looks down at you, conflicted between feeling pleased to see you reduced to such a state while also feeling a similar fire in his own belly. “Sweetling, the meeting–”

“Is not due to start for at least another hour!” You interrupt, determined to persuade him to this. Taking you in various parts of the Keep was not new to him, both of you had plenty of memories from your courtship and first year of marriage of rutting together in all sorts of nooks and crannies of the old castle. 

Aemond gazes at you for a long moment, an unreadable expression on his face, though his eye remains dark with desire. After a second, he nods to himself almost imperceptibly, seeming to come to some decision you weren’t privy to. Finally, finally his lips descend upon yours as he sweeps you into an all-consuming kiss, his arms tightening around your waist as he pulls you to him, groaning lowly in his throat as he licks into your mouth. You shiver in his grasp, finally tasting him properly after so long as you whimper and whine into his mouth.

“Aemond,” you gasp as you finally part from him, mewling as he immediately trails kisses down your jaw, “What–”

“Seems I can never deny you for very long, sweetling,” he huffs, halfway laughing as he guides you over to the large table, pulling you up by the waist until you’re sitting on the cool stone table, your legs bracketing his trim waist, “I’ve missed you too, my love.” He confesses, sweeping a lock of hair from your shoulder before trailing kisses up across your neck and jaw, one hand already desperately pulling up the bottom of your gown.

You huff out small moans and whimpers, relishing his warm touch. His nimble fingers finally manage to undo the knot at the front of your smallclothes and he tugs them down quickly, leaving you bare for him under your skirts as they fall to a pile on the floor just beside his chair at the table. 

“Husband,” you pant, tugging at the drawstrings at the top of his trousers, “Please, please do not make me beg today, I–” Your train of thought is cut off as a moan, louder than it should be given the location, tears itself from your throat when you feel his long fingers ghost over your center.

“Shh, darling,” Aemond grins as he feels your arousal immediately coat his fingers, a pleased hum emanating from deep in his chest as he feels it already coating the insides of your thighs as well, “I don’t have the patience to restrain myself today, sweet one,” he mutters, watching your face carefully as he spreads your folds and teases your entrance with a finger before carefully sliding it in, groaning with satisfaction at the feel of your walls already tightly clamping down on it, “Nor the time.” He adds with a slight smirk, pale hair cascading like a curtain down his shoulders as he leans his forehead against yours. 

“Oh, Gods,” you whimper, eyes fluttering shut as your hands white knuckle the dark leather of his tunic, too uncoordinated with lust to manage the ties on his pants, “M-My love, more please!” You whisper, angling your hips to try and catch another of his fingers. 

You hear him chuckle above you before he pulls his finger from you, smirking as you whine pitifully at the loss. Before you have a chance to protest, he quickly undoes his trousers, not bothering to pull them down at all and opting to merely loosen the laces at the front enough to free his cock. Your eyes widen as you watch his hand stroke over his length momentarily, taking in the way it already throbs in his grasp, the head flushed and leaking from merely having you in his hands once more.

“Ready, sweetling?” He asks, gently tilting your chin up as he captures your lips in a sweet kiss, his other hand positioning his length at your entrance. 

You part from him and nod eagerly, widening your legs and angling your hips, “I’ve been ready for you for weeks, Aemond.” 

He smiles softly, pressing one more kiss against your neck before finally pressing into you, growling as he sinks into your slick heat. “Seven,” he grunts, cradling the back of your head with one hand as his other slinks down to grab at your hip, “You feel better every time, sweetling.”

You moan hotly against his shoulder, sinking your teeth into the thick leather of the shoulder of his tunic in an attempt to quiet yourself. Your eyes squeeze shut at the feel of him sliding into you, filling you to the brim perfectly. You’ve been without him for so long that he feels enormous, your walls aching as he stretches you out, pressing in and in until he’s finally seated fully within you. 

Without another word, Aemond started thrusting into you, slow at first but quickly picking up the pace with every firm roll of his hips into you. After only a moment, he’s already grunting like a madman into your ear, holding you to him even as you cling tightly to his shoulders yourself, your legs wrapped loosely around his waist. 

You feel a fire building in your belly at a breakneck pace as he ruts into you, the hand on your hip no doubt leaving fingerprint bruises across your skin, even through the fabric of your gown. If the low groans from your husband are any indication, he isn’t doing much better. He threads his fingers through your hair, pulling you into a desperate kiss, teeth and tongues clashing together frantically as if the two of you are trying to fall into each other, to become one. 

“My love, I—,” he pants against your lips, jerking your head back by the grip he has on your locks. His eye meets yours, the light lilac almost entirely eclipsed by his pupil as he stares at you hungrily, “It’s been so long, I don’t know how long I can last.” 

His breath is warm as it fans over your lips and you nod dazedly, zings of pleasure radiating up your spine from Aemond’s grip in your hair only adding to the warmth quickly threatening to overtake you. “It’s okay,” you swallow thickly, eyes already rolling back with pleasure, “I can’t either.” 

Nodding in return, he picks up the pace, the head of his cock rutting against the most sensitive spot within you hard enough to make you see stars. He hasn’t even needed to tease your pearl and you’re already nearly unraveling as Aemond mumbles nearly incoherent praises, the hand on your hip traveling lower, nearly cupping your ass. 

Just as you’re about to warn him of your inevitable release, muffled voices sound from behind the thick wooden doors that lead into the Small Council chambers. Aemond slows within you as both of your heads swivel to the doors — just in time to hear the guards stationed outside begin to tug them open. 

You freeze, eyes widening as the doors open, seemingly in slow motion. Thankfully, your husband moves quickly enough for the both of you, nimbly scooping you into his arms before hastily dropping down into his chair, hurriedly scooching it forward until both of your laps are hidden under the stone surface of the table, before kicking your smallclothes under the table at the last second. 

Your head whips around to face Aemond and you give him a panicked, wide-eyed look just as people start filing into the room, unaware that you’re still being split open by your husband’s length. One hand, still on your hip, tightens, silently commanding you to be still as his lilac eye pleads the same; his other hand is already poised on the table, relaxed against the cool surface as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. 

“Yes, yes, we must certainly ask him once he’s back in King’s Landing,” Lord Tyland’s voice fills the chamber as he walks in, engaged in a conversation about something or other with Lord Corlys, the two sharing a laugh before finally taking notice of you and Aemond, “Prince, princess.” Tyland bows his head at the two of you with Corlys following soon after. 

You sit frozen atop your husband, gazing blankly at the two men without a word. Thankfully, Aemond has the presence of mind to bow his head politely, though he stays quiet. As they walk further into the room, you can only see Tyland and Corlys from the corner of your eye but you don’t miss the odd look they share, silently asking each other why you were present and certainly why you were sitting on Aemond’s lap. Blood rushes to your head so quickly you feel lightheaded, your cheeks stinging as a harsh blush quickly appears on your face from their attention. 

Maester Orwyle files through the doorway next, doing a double take at you and Aemond before bowing his head, a gesture that you thankfully remember to return this time as you stiffly nod your head. Thankfully, the older man simply takes a seat at his place at the table without any comment, though you can hear the two other men speaking quietly in the corner of the room, throwing glances your way as they do. 

Your walls tighten around Aemond’s length as the rest of you tenses up when Larys creeps in, leaning against his cane as he moves; Aemond thighs tense underneath you as you hear him suck in a breath, only slightly more hasty than normal — the hand in your hip tightens, warning you to keep it together. 

“Prince Aemond, princess,” Larys nods as he approaches the table, “To what do we owe the pleasure of such… intriguing company?” He questions, tilting his head as he narrows his eyes ever so slightly, his eyes bouncing between you and Aemond. 

Your head spins as you stare straight ahead, willing yourself to respond, to say anything, to appear somehow normal. Yet, nothing comes out as your center throbs uselessly around Aemond, your head cloudy with need as your eyes stare ahead blankly, though registering just enough to pick up on the small smirk playing at the corners of Larys’s lips. 

“My wife appears to have taken ill this morning,” Aemond drawls from over your shoulder while affectionately petting your waist, a gesture entirely for show, a lie to placate the men in the room, but it comforts you nonetheless. He clears his throat before continuing, the only tell thus far that your warmth around him is affecting him at all, “My presence brings her great comfort, I see no reason why she should be without it.” 

“I see,” Larys hums in response, his dark eyes sweeping over your form, sparkling ominously as if he knows the truth, “What shame, let us hope the Gods grant you reprieve from this…illness soon, princess.” 

“Yes!” You finally squeak, snapping back to attention as Aemond just barely squeezes your side, “Yes, let’s hope so. Thank you, Lord Larys.” You breathe, managing a smile small. 

You shift on your husband’s lap and immediately you know you’ve made a mistake as the head of his cock prods directly into that overly sensitive patch within you, nearly making you topple over on the spot as a small groan escapes you. Blessedly, you have enough presence of mind to cover it up with a cough, sparks jolting down your back as Aemond presses a soft kiss to your cheek, one of his hands coming up to rub soothing circles against the back of your shoulder. 

“There, there, sweetling,” he says softly, again, entirely for show as you put on your best performance, “Once the meeting is over, we will have the servants make some tea for you, that will help with that cough.” Even if it was for show, you couldn’t help but shiver at Aemond’s low voice, at how he’s being so soft and caring with you. That, combined with the incessant prodding to your sweet spot, has you throbbing around him, your heart hammering in your chest. You can hear Aemond suck in another barely there gasp behind you, a groan low enough to remain silent rumbling against your back while at the same time his hand almost imperceptibly twitches on the table; his composure makes you feel all the more lightheaded, blushing somehow deeper at the fact that he’s taking you apart this easily without so much as moving a muscle. Your thighs trembled atop his lap, the insides already sticky with your arousal as you struggled to stay still, silently thanking the Gods that at least your laps were hidden. 

“I’m sorry,” Corlys began, striding over from his spot in the corner with a sheepish look, “I really feel I must speak up, this is really most unusual.” He finishes through an awkward laugh, Tyland following closely behind him as they saddle up to the table. 

“What is most unusual?” Alicent asks, entering the Small Council chambers with Otto, followed closely after by Aegon and Ser Criston. Her eyes sweep over the room, pausing when she sees you, though she quickly corrects herself with a soft smile. “Ah, my dear,” she nods hello to the various men in the room before sitting at the table, “May I ask why your wife joins us, Aemond?” She peers at him curiously, throwing a nervous glance at Aegon who is smirking far too much for her liking as he slinks up to the table. 

“It seems the princess has fallen ill, your grace,” Larys answers quickly, slyly smiling as he turns to face the dowager queen, “Prince Aemond insisted she stay so that she may be…comforted.” You quickly look away from him as his eyes meet yours once again, piercing through you as though he can see directly through your gown. 

“Yes, which is most odd,” Tyland butted in, throwing glances between you, Aemond, Alicent, and Aegon, “She is not a member of the council, she should not be present. Surely there is some way the princess could be comforted that does not involve being privy to government matters.”

Aemond stays silent behind you, glaring daggers at Aegon over your shoulder, watching carefully as he traipses over to the table and stands at its head, his eyes never straying from his brother’s as they stare one another down. The other members, some reluctantly, take their places at the table as well, each of them standing so long as Aegon does, though you and Aemond remain seated; your eyes never stray from the marbled surface of the table.

“Aemond, please,” Otto sighs from his place next to you, “The least you and the princess could do is stand for–”

“I see him everyday,” Aegon interjects, breaking eye contact with your husband as he rolls his eyes, “I don’t give a shit if the fool stands.”

Your eyes dart up at that, shocked that Aegon isn’t taking the chance to thoroughly humiliate Aemond by putting him on the spot. The king’s violet eyes meet yours, sparkling with a mischief that makes your center flutter around your husband’s length – Aegon’s smirk grows as if he knows exactly what just happened. A thin sheen of sweat makes you feel clammy as Aemond’s cock twitches inside of you, pushing him against your sweet spot all the more. 

“Very well,” Alicent swiftly cuts in, determined to keep the peace, “Shall we get st–”

“Are we really going to allow for the presence of–” Corlys starts, only to be viciously cut off.

“She stays,” Aegon says flatly, shooting a bored look at the man, “If anyone has an issue with the princess’s presence they may take their leave.” His violet eyes pass over the room, almost daring anyone to move. Everyone remains still, though you can feel Tyland and Corlys glaring at the side of your head, and after a moment, Aegon takes his seat followed by everyone else; blessedly, the meeting finally begins. 

The Small Council meeting drones on and on, with various conversations of coin and ships, concerns abroad in Essos, and other diplomatic matters that mean nothing to you. In the back of your mind, you know it’s hardly been any time at all but it feels like an eternity has passed with Aemond’s hard length still piercing into you, twitching against your pulsing walls every so often. A part of you wonders if he does it on purpose, gives you just enough stimulation to cruelly tease you before going stock still once more. 

The small, unnoticeable to everyone but you, hitches of his breath tell you otherwise and deep down, you know he’s just as affected as you, no doubt steadily leaking into you, though you dare not consider the thought for very long. 

“Aemond,” your breath catches in your throat as Otto directs his attention to your husband, everyone else's gaze quickly following, “Any further communications from Dorne?”

Behind you, your husband clears his throat and you feel him shift beneath you, sitting up slightly straighter in his seat, both hands now clasping your waist to keep you steady on top of him. “Negotiations with the Dornish remain stagnant,” he begins as you practically wilt on his lap, the added attention from the council members making the knot in your belly tighten in a way you shudder to consider, “We received a raven from Prince Qoren some days ago rejecting any dealings with the crown, no matter the amount of coin we have to offer.” He finishes, pointedly looking at Tyland, who proceeds to butt in.

As soon as the attention shifts off of the two of you, it’s like the air around Aemond changes, becoming charged all of a sudden as you feel his chest heave against your back. At the other end of the table, Tyland begins to raise his voice, debating hotly with Corlys and Otto, drawing the attention of everyone else to them. 

“Do you think you can be still?” Aemond whispers, his breath hot against your ear although his voice is barely audible even to you. He must sense you freeze on his lap as the hand on your hip begins to move slowly, dragging your skirts up your legs until his hand can slip underneath them, making you tremble as he grips the soft skin of your thigh, “Tighten around my cock if you can be still.”

Against your better judgment, you do as he says, tensing as you clench your walls around him; his only reply is a low growl against your back. He stays still for a moment, trying with all of his might to appear as if he’s taking great interest in the ongoing argument taking place. 

Finally, once he’s positive everyone is too preoccupied arguing over coin to pay attention to either of you, his deft fingers slip through your folds before finally twirling against your aching pearl. 

You have to bite harshly at the inside of your cheek to keep quiet, trying to keep your breathing steady as you focus on not moving even though you so badly want to rut your hips against his fingers as they rub against you. 

Aemond swallows thickly behind you as he slowly circles his fingers, careful to keep his pace light and steady to not stir up any slick sounds from your wet cunt, though he longs to hear them. 

Your elbows rest against the top of the table, your hands clasped tightly in front of you. The conversation around you seems to shift as Otto begins prattling on about some Tyrell woman finally being with child. Aemond’s fingers suddenly pinch at your sensitive bud and a gasp tumbles past your lips before you can stop it, drawing everyone’s attention. 

“Is everything alright, princess?” Alicent questions from across the table, her dark eyes narrowed with concern. 

You nod quickly, coughing to conceal a moan as you open your mouth to answer her, “Y-Yes, I’m sorry,” you apologize with a weak smile, “I’m just so pleased for the Tyrells, what a j-joyous time this must be for them.” You say quickly, stumbling over the words as your core clenches tightly around your husband’s cock, his small touches driving you steadily to your peak despite the circumstances. 

Alicent gives you a curious look before quickly collecting herself, “Yes, I’m sure the family is quite thankful, children are always such a blessing,” she smiles politely before turning back to her father, “Please, continue.” 

Otto’s voice hardly reaches your ears as he picks up where he left off, though you don’t miss the horribly put out looks you garner from Tyland and Corlys. 

Aemond’s fingers just barely speed up as they swirl over your bud, though the small change is enough to drive you wild and you can feel the way his chest heaves against your back as your walls twitch around his length, threatening to milk his cock dry without him having to move an inch. 

The heat that has slowly been building within you finally begins to bubble over and your husband’s fingers show no signs of stopping as he pushes you closer and closer to your breaking point. The hand of his that has been resting idly on the table top comes over to casually rest against your clenched hands and rubs soothingly up and down your forearm, Aemond’s silent way of telling you he knows you’re close. 

Your eyes flick around the room as you feel your peak threatening to spill over you, frantically checking for any onlookers at the last possible second. You nearly jump out of your skin as your eyes finally land on Aegon, only to find him already staring at you, an amused smirk plastered across his face as he studies you. 

Aemond chooses that exact second to pinch at your pearl again and the small touch is your undoing. Your teeth bite down firmly on your tongue as your walls pulse rhythmically around your husband’s leaking cock, your eyes still locked on Aegon’s violet ones, now darkened with lust. 

Your muscles tense up as you peak helplessly, waves of pleasure lighting up every nerve ending within you. Somehow, you find it within yourself to remain quiet and still on Aemond’s lap as your eyes finally flick away from his older brother’s and you gaze, apparently absentmindedly, at some point on the wall on the opposite side of the room as your high subsides. 

Thankfully, Aemond takes pity on you and slips his hand away, his wet fingers resting gently in your bare thigh, still underneath your gown. 

You slowly come down from your high as the Small Council winds down, Aegon and Otto quickly discussing a few final points before the king formally adjourns the meeting. Tyland and Corlys practically bolt from their chairs, quickly bowing before they exit as they mumble between themselves, no doubt about the displeasure of your presence. 

Otto and Maester Orwyle take their leave soon after, each bowing politely. Aegon busies himself at the head of the table, leaning back in his chair as he lazily sips from his wine cup, the gleam in his eyes making you shiver. 

Across the room, Alicent and Larys whisper between themselves. Strangely, your mother-in-law blushes, shaking her head suddenly and mumbling a quiet, “Not here,” before glancing around the room.

Larys merely shrugs, turning to you as he shuffles from the room, “Do get better soon, princess.” He says with a feeble bow, although the look on his face makes you blush heavily. 

At that, Alicent turns to Aegon, “Would you care to come see the children with me?”

“Go on,” he dismisses her before nodding toward you and Aemond, “I wish to have a word with my brother.” He catches your eye with a quick wink. 

“Of course,” Alicent mutters, glancing curiously between the three of you, “I’ll ask the maids to bring some tea to your chambers this evening, princess. They make a wonderful lemon one that always seems to lift my spirits.” She says with a kind smile, coming around to place a comforting hand on your shoulder before she too heads to the door. 

“Thank you!” You breathily call after her, voice squeaking at the end as Aemond shuffles impatiently beneath you, his cock still prodding against your sensitive walls. 

Aegon chuckles darkly as soon as the doors close once more, standing from his chair with a wide smirk. “I must say, I’m impressed,” he taunts, eyes glinting as he looks between you and his brother, “I didn’t think either of you had that much gaul in you.” 

“What exactly are you tittering about now?” Aemond asks lowly behind you, his voice rough and choppy as his patience clearly wears thin. 

Sniggering, Aegon saunters around to stand beside you, violet eyes scanning over your laps still concealed under the table, “You’ve had your cock in her the whole time, have you not?” He teases, laughing harder still as Aemond merely hums in response, “Come brother, you should be proud of yourself,” he clasps a hand over your husband's shoulder, “She was nearly falling apart when she peaked.” He comments with a final wink as he ambles to the door, stopping to throw one last amused look over his shoulder, “You might want to do something about that bite mark on your shoulder.” He says casually before slamming the doors closed behind him. 

At his comment, you whirl around and your eyes grow wide as you spy a clear impression of your teeth marks in the leather of Aemond’s tunic, on his shoulder where you’d bitten down earlier. Your cheeks heat up at the thought of it being there throughout the entire meeting. 

You don’t have long to dwell on the thought though as your husband roughly pushes you from his lap until you’re bent over the table, cheek pressed to the cool stone surface. “Seven!” You sequel as he unceremoniously shoves his cock back inside you, his hips pumping wildly as his hands grasp at your waist harshly, no doubt leaving bruises. 

“Fucking finally,” he grunts, eyeing the way his cock disappears into your slick heat as he bunches your gown up over your ass, “‘M not gonna last.” He warns lowly, already panting with the speed of his thrusts. 

Your head spins once again as his cock moves within you, his pace nearly bruising. Your teeth sink into the skin of your forearm as you desperately try to keep quiet, another peak already welling up within you. 

Aemond growls and quickly threads the fingers of one hand through your hair, making you whine loudly as he pulls your head back until his chest is once again pressed against you, his other hand coming to rub against your abused pearl once more. 

“Aemond!” You moan, shaking your head in his grasp, one hand braced against the table as the other grabs at his forearm, feeling his muscles twitch as his fingers swirl against your center, “P-Please, I cannot keep myself quiet, I know I can’t—“ You start babbling. 

“Let them fucking hear,” he growls, eye squeezing shut as he feels his stones tightening up, “The whole keep can listen for all I fucking care, I won’t be stopping this time.” 

Your eyes roll back in your head at his words, never having heard him sound this possessed and overcome with pleasure before. After only a few more thrusts, you feel your walls twitch once more, a loud gasp rattling through your chest, “H-Husband, I’m—!”

“That’s it,” Aemond groans, redoubling his efforts against your pearl as he continues to rut into you at a nearly inhuman pace. “Peak, sweetling,” he commands, his voice low and raspy in your ear, “Peak while I breed your precious cunt.” 

His words nearly take your breath away and you whine loudly as another high washes over you, your walls milking your husband’s cock as they clench and pulse against it. 

Behind you, Aemond groans lowly, grunting as his cock twitches strongly inside you, his thick seed flooding into your heat as he finally, finally peaks, the pleasure of it making him dizzy as he leans against your back, forehead pressed between your shoulder blades. 

The two of you are quiet for a moment, your tired pants the only sounds in the chambers. Finally, Aemond untangles his fingers from your hair, both of his hands coming to rest against the cool table as he finally pulls his cock from your center, soothing you with soft shushes when you whine, the emptiness in your core such a foreign feeling after being filled for so long. 

He sinks into his chair once more and pulls you with him, wrapping a protective arm around your waist as you rest your head on his shoulder. Once your breathing is steady, you pick your head up, a displeased groan tumbling from your throat as you see your bite mark more clearly up close, a finger coming up to trace over the intents in the black leather. 

“I’ll need to send this to the seamstress for repairs,” you whisper with an apologetic sigh, “I believe this is beyond my ability to fix.” 

Aemond chuckles beneath you, lilac eye gleaming with pride as he clasps a hand over yours as it still rests on his shoulder, “Don’t trouble yourself with it, my love.” 

“What?” You question, smiling despite the way you tilt your head in confusion, “Aemond, I cannot fix it myself and I’m afraid the mark will not simply go away—,” 

“You misunderstand me, sweetling,” he says, smiling as he looks down at you, “I intend to keep it as a mark of great pride. I shall wear it as a trophy for all to see.” He explains with a teasing laugh. 

You playfully smack a hand against his chest, which only makes him laugh harder, “You can’t be serious!” You admonish with a wide smile.

“Why? I simply wish to remember this day,” he chuckles, “The day I made my sweet wife peak in front of the Gods and everyone.” 

“Aemond!” You cannot help the surprised laugh that leaves you, “You’re as disgusting as your brother!”

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @demirunner @eponaartemisa @trshngyn

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[chaoticwriting]

Part 3

Danny X Cass Part 4

They arrive at the pantry in just a moment. Danny, Cass and the rest of the batfam go to take their seat while Clark and Diana go to make some teas and snacks. Danny and Cass sit beside each other with the other side of Cass being Spoiler. Opposite of Danny is Bruce while beside him are Nightwing and Robin. Red Robin takes a chair and sits right behind Batman while still taping on his wrist computer.

Batman, Nightwing and Robin keep staring at Danny while Clark and Diana prepare the snacks and teas but Danny doesn't look nervous at all. As much as Danny wants to take all of them seriously, he really can't when he knows what he knows.

A moment later Clark and Diana come with 2 trays of snacks and teas and put them on the table. They take a chair each and sit near the end of the table. Clark and Diana can feel the intense glares from 3 bats. Both of them glance at the target in question and they can see that the guy takes the glare with stride. It's like the person that is being glared at is someone else.

Suddenly, a loud ding sounded in the room. Danny takes out his phone and a grin spreads on his face. Danny shows the screen to Cass and she also releases a few giggles. Feeling the glares becoming more intense, Danny puts his phone on the table and lets everyone see what he is seeing.

On his phone is a selfie of Dan holding a bloodied Darkseid in one hand with a caption "Can't even give out a decent fight. Even Boxy is a better sparring partner than him." Another message entered Danny's phone and there is a selfie of Elle with Danny's clone bitch slapping Trigon in the background. "This place is so cool. You gotta bring me here to play more." Danny shows the rest of the heroes that the deed is done and they finally relax. Clark stands up from his table and goes back to the other room to inform the other heroes that the threat had already been taken care of.

Danny then puts back his phone and continues drinking his tea. Heh. They might think that they are being scary but they don't even know even now Danny is still flirting with Cass. That's one of the benefits of being able to read the opponent's body language and ghost speak. To others holding hands is just holding hands but to them, holding hands can be used to convey all of your emotions.

They stay like that for a while longer until Clark returns from the other room. Seeing Clark fully seated, Bruce finally speaks.

"Who are you really?" Bruce asks with the most intimidating voice he can use.

"Didn't I say? I'm Danny Phantom. High King of Infinite Realm etc etc. I have a lot of titles but the high King one is the only important one." Danny says carelessly.

"How old are you?" Bruce asks.

"20"

"Impossible." Red Robin suddenly interjects.

"Why is it impossible?" Danny looks curiously at him. He genuinely doesn't know why it is impossible.

"There are records of you all across time all the way back to the ancient human. There are even traces of you in multiple pantheons." Red Robin says.

"Oh, you mean that. Duh, it's easy. I time travel. It's quite easy to time travel when your pops is the master of time." Danny says.

"But didn't you say Clockwork hates when someone messes with time?" Superman asks.

"If there is a time traveler that messes with the timeline, who do you think will deal with the guy? It certainly ain't that old man. He sends me to deal with the time traveler/magician who are trying to change the timeline." Danny says.

"Is Clockwork your father then?" Diana asks.

"Adopted parents. He is my parents/mentor for anything ghost related. Well actually for most things related except personal human problems." Danny says.

"How long have you known Black Bat?" Nightwing asks. Finally the real question.

"Wait, I think 10 years now. You are 21 right Cass? I remember when I first met her she was being chased down by this weird ninja. After I shot a few of them down with my Fenton Taser, Cass handled the rest of them. She then passed out from exhaustion and I brought her to my secret hideout (A cave Danny found just then). After a few days, Cass fully recovered and since then, she and I have been meeting every few months whenever she comes around."

"Also, I know all of your real identity. The phrase 'Dead man tells no tales' is a complete bs by the way. The ghosts really like gossiping. Like that one time I heard a ghost say that he sees Bruce fall into the dumpster because his grappling hook is jammed. Or that one time Dick got catcalled by an old lady."

The bats (except Cass)froze when they hear that Danny knows their secret identity. Bruce sighs and takes off his cowl followed by the rest of the family.

"Do you also know my identity, Danny?" Clark asks.

"Yes, I know you Kal-el. Your parents are very proud of what you have become."

"You met Ma and Pa?"

"Your biological parents."

"You- you've met my parents?" Clark's voice shakes. Danny nods while smiling warmly.

"If you want, I can set up a meeting with your parents. Not for long of course. It's not good for a mortal to be inside the realm for too long. And that invitation extends to all of you."

Most of them stilled at that invitation.

[district4loading]

Under My Spell

Kiss of Life Belle x Male Reader

5K Words

Content Warning: smut, hypnosis, use of handcuffs, praise, a little bit of degrading

Minors DNI

A/N: I got the request to do this almost a month ago but back then I was really busy and I had other requests to get to first. Now that my writers block is partially gone, I'm ready to write and work on everything else I've been requested. This was supposed to come out two days ago but I ended up getting sick and I couldn't finish it lmao.

This is my first time writing something like this, I know I probably got some aspects of it wrong so just vibe yeah? Hope you guys enjoy this one!!

The request: "would you be open to writing a smut about hypnosis? like where the reader and idol decide to try out hypnosis?"

-

Maybe hypnosis is real

-

You're laying in bed when she brings it up.

She just came back from the nail salon, her purse slides off of her arm and onto the dresser when she asks you "Babe, what's the kinkiest thing you've ever done?" She peels herself out of her denim jacket, the one you bought her recently that she called 'ugly.' You fail to mention it though because you begin to question the context of her inquiry.

"Probably like... bondage stuff" You look up from your phone, "Where's this coming from?"

Belle only begins to strip herself of the remainder of her clothing before muttering "I'll get to that." You watch as she throws the worn garments to the side before digging through the dresser for something more comfortable "Wouldn't you find it hot to have complete and utter control over someone, tell them to do something and they're on it with no hesitation or thought behind it" She steps into a pair of shorts "No matter what you ask, they do it mindlessly"

You tilt your head, trying to follow wherever she's going with this. There's a smile on her face but it's not just any smile, it tells you that she's testing the waters, trying to gauge whether or not you were into whatever the hell she was getting at now. "I mean... I guess? I'm not sure"

"You guess?" She gives you a look before pulling an old, loose black t-shirt over her head. She then crawls into bed and you're not surprised when you find her straddling your waist with her hands snaking underneath your shirt. "So... you wouldn't mind putting me under your spell so you could get me to do whatever sick shit you want me to?"

"That sounds like some weird MK-Ultra mind control shit" You chuckle, then wince after she pinches your abs with her sharp nails.

Belle hums "Yeah that's exactly what I mean..." You watch as she backs up a bit, then she begins to think, "well actually I was talking about hypnosis but you get the idea... kinda sorta"

"You want me to hypnotize you?" She nods and now you're confused "You can't actually believe that works babe..."

"It works" She insists, then slaps your chest when she sees the unconvinced and almost judging look on your face.

That's when you realize she's dead serious about it "What makes you want to try hypnosis all of a sudden?"

"Well" She begins tugging at the hem of your shirt "A friend of mine told me about how she and her boyfriend tried it and it sort of inspired me"

You stay silent for a bit, reminding yourself not to say anything slick so she doesn't get upset with you. "So how does it work? Do I get a pocket watch and swing it in front of your face or something?" You end up snickering a bit, still finding this conversation to be more humorous than serious.

Belle gives you a look, trying to hold in her own laugh "No, you idiot! I'll send you some videos later and.." She smiles mischievously before sliding off of you then she goes over to the dresser and digs her hand into her purse. You quirk your eyebrow and sit up to better see what she's doing. The moment she pulls a pair of hand-cuffs out, your eyes widen.

"We're gonna need these too"

-

So after watching countless videos, you finally think you've mastered the art of hypnosis.

Maybe not "mastered" but you got the gist of it. You've got no clue why you agreed to this in the first place because there was still something in the back of your mind telling you that this would never work and if it somehow did, she'd only be pretending. It's probably the boring pessimist in you that makes you think that way but this seemed interesting. So you keep your questioning thoughts to yourself as you reach into your drawer for the handcuffs.

Belle smiles at you in your dark bedroom, the warm light from the lamp on your nightstand is on the dimmest setting. It makes her naked body look so perfect, highlighting each and every one of her beautiful curves. You walk over to her, putting the cuffs on the bed before you take your hands in hers. "Ready?" She hums and nods her head.

"Now, I want you close your eyes to take a deep breath" She does as you say and you can hear the sharp sound of her nostrils taking in the cool conditioned air, her chest rises with it. "Now slowly exhale" and her chest falls gently "Now breathe as you listen to my voice, focus on it and allow everything else to fade away"

You keep your tone gentle and soft to put her at ease "The faint hum of the air conditioner, the rain outside, the cars passing by, block it all out" You notice that she's still taking those deep breaths, then exhaling them with soft grace. "Just focus on me, allow that tension and stress to melt away. No work, no schedules, just you and I"

"Now listen to my words" You pause for a moment "You'll do as I say, be subservient to me" You begin pulling her into a mindset crafted and molded by you "You want me to handcuff you" At this point, Belle holds a straight face, she doesn't even flinch or cringe at your words. Not even a smirk or a giggle, like you've actually got her in some sort of trance. "You feel the urge to do anything to get me off" and "You will not want us to stop until I say we do"

"Keep your breathing steady and at the snap of my fingers you will awaken with all of these desires"

You raise your hand and put your thumb against your middle finger, then *snap* and her eyes immediately open. There's something about her gaze that you immediately observe, it's kind of dark and empty and she's got a completely blank expression on her face. "What do you want?" You question her softly.

Belle looks over to the handcuffs and picks them up, then she holds them in front of you "Please" She says it with her voice just above a whisper "Please cuff me"

You swallow, not at all recognizing the tone in her voice. It has a chill running down your spine because it sounds almost desperate, like she's really begging for it. You begin to think that maybe this hypnosis shit is actually real and it scares you a bit. But you still take the handcuffs out of her hands as she puts her hands out for you.

It takes you a moment cause you're not used to this but you manage to get them on her. "Knees, princess" You order and just like that, she's dropping to her knees in front of you "Good girl" You mutter under your breath as you look down at her with nothing but lust in your eyes.

It's weird, this was actually turning you on more than you thought it would. Having so much control over her without a fight for dominance or her usual bratty attitude.

No doubt it already has your blood rushing.

So you don't waste any time to pull off your shirt then you unbuckle your belt and you take your jeans off. You take your hard cock into your hand and you pump it slowly "Open" Her lips part and her tongue pokes out "Suck" Is the next thing you say as you guide the head into her mouth.

Almost immediately, she begins bobbing her head mindlessly. Her warm mouth is so wet and welcoming and the feel of her fleshy, slippery inner cheeks and her smooth velvety tongue has your nerves so sensitive. You groan deeply as you allow your hands to run through her scalp then your hips start thrusting forwards because she's beginning to swirl her tongue and it feels incredible. She doesn't even need her hands, so much control, so disciplined and obedient for you. Belle takes your cock like a pro, sucking and slurping it tightly to provide the utmost pleasure and its fucking perfect.

She makes enthusiastic noises as she sucks your cock, like she's been starving for it, like your pre-cum is the best thing she's ever tasted.

You stop for a moment and hold her head still, then you push all the way in so her nose is pressed up against your base. Almost like you're a sadist, you hold her there, watching the way her eyes well up with tears. "So beautiful" You compliment, admiring the look of her glossy eyes. Her throat squeezes you as she gags "Ah fuck" You moan, pushing your hips just a bit deeper and Belle swallows, nearly making you dizzy. So you loosen your grip on her head and she continues to bob her head wildly.

It's like she has no gag reflex with how fast she's going and how deep she's taking you. Each drag of her mouth has you stuck just staring into her eyes, those dutiful brown orbs that tell you she's not going to stop until your cum is shooting down her throat. At this rate, it may not be too far away. "Oh—fucking god" You bite your lip, muscles clenching as she continues to suck you off.

All she can really do is hum and moan with her mouth stuffed full with your cock, the sticky noises only adding to your arousal. You can feel it coming already. She's ruthless with it, flicking her tongue in ways she never has before. "I'm going to fucking—" You can't even finish your sentence because she has your needy cock throbbing in her perfect mouth.

It's muffled, but you can hear it when she moans and starts bobbing her head quicker, like she wants nothing more than to get you off. You don't even realize it when you grip her hair tighter because you're too focused on being at the edge. Usually, when Belle would do this, she'd stop at the last second just to tease because like the brat she is, she enjoyed seeing you squirm. However, it didn't seem like she'd be doing that now. By the look in her eye, you can tell she's going to fucking milk you for all you've got.

Now you're starting to really get the idea of this whole hypnosis thing, even if she's just faking it. You place your hands on her head because even though you know she won't go anywhere, it feels right. You take a deep breath and then "I'm cumming" you announce with a low and long groan escaping your lips. Your eyes shut so tight you can see spots behind your eyelids and in a flash Belle's taking it all down her perfect throat.

It's almost like she can't get enough of you, the way she keeps on sucking she pulls out any bit of semen you have left. She swallows it all and you pull your hips back weakly when she tries to get you back in her mouth "Okay, thats enough" You chuckle tiredly and then she sits back on her heels.

Now the deadpan expression on her face is gone and it's replaced with an eager smile. There's still something off about it but you can't exactly pinpoint what "Did I do good?" She asks, waiting for your response with some drool at the corner of her mouth.

"Yeah, baby" You sigh "On the bed, on your back, now" Another order comes out of your mouth, and you sound more natural about it.

Belle licks her lips then stands up, it takes a little more effort for her to climb onto the bed because of the handcuffs but she does it eventually. "What do you want, princess?" You ask the question again, because you're intrigued about what she'll answer.

"Use my body, please sir I want it so fucking bad—I need it. Need you to use me until you're finished I won't be satisfied until you're done with me" There's this genuine yearning in her tone, something that you almost don't recognize at all.

You go with it though "Lift your arms until they're above your head" A smirk grows on your face as you get a perfect view of her tits. You climb onto the bed and you get on top of her, positioned so that you're almost sitting on her stomach "You gonna let me use these perfect tits?" You ask as if she has any choice in the matter.

Still, she nods her head frantically "Anything" She whines as you grab a hold of her breasts in your big hands. You cup and squeeze them, like always, they're better than fucking pillows, so soft and squishy. You place your cock in between them and press them together on it, you groan immediately when your feel the perfect warmth.

"Fuck yeah" You groan as you begin to move your hips back and forth. She only looks up at you with that lustful look in her eyes. You gather some saliva in your mouth, then you lean over and spit it out. It lands on her boob, then it trickles downwards and you spread it around as you keep fucking her tits.

It was always something you wanted to try out, but you hadn't gotten the chance to ask yet. You were kind of afraid she'd laugh at the idea and you didn't exactly know how she'd take it. Belle would probably be down for literally anything you wanted to try out and it was the same for you—which is why you agreed to do this hypnosis thing in the first place—but you could still do without the teasing that'd come with it.

Your cock slides between her breasts without any resistance whatsoever, it's all smooth and slick and it feels so fucking good. With her hands over her head she just lets it happen because she's fucking loving it. The almost harsh grip you have on her tits has her squirming because she wants to be touched and used in other places, obviously.

You keep the pace though, wanting to stay in this moment for just a little bit more before you move on. "How does it feel baby?" She gives you those expecting eyes, like she yearns for your approval.

So you don't hold back your praises "Incredible, your tits are fucking amazing Belle... I could do this forever" You sigh, listening to the slick sound each of your movements make.

"Why don't you do it forever then? I wouldn't mind" She teases but her tone tells you that she's not really joking.

Maybe hypnosis is real

A small chuckle escapes your lips as you stop your movements "If I did that, I wouldn't be able to get to the best part"

"Which is?" She figures she can let her hands rest on her belly.

You reposition yourself so that you're in between Belle's legs at this point "Right here, princess" She hums when you place your palm on her soaked cunt. It's all slippery and slick with her arousal, she's been absolutely aching to have you inside of her. Your cock throbs at the mere thought of it.

"Please sir"

The way her voice sounds in your hears has you smirking, so fucking desperate. Normally, Belle had far too much pride to beg like this but now that she's under your control things are different.

You might actually prefer it this way

"Please what darling? You want my cock or what?" You mock, wrapping your fingers around your cock so you can nudge it against her entrance. You don't put it in though, you merely slide it up and down her slit slowly, lathering your swollen cock head up with her wetness.

A choked moan forces its way through her throat "Yes! I fucking need your cock—fuck—just inside please just...use me, fucking own me"

"Jesus, you're a fucking slut" You bite your lip, slapping your tip against her needy cunt just to get her that much more riled up before you begin.

"Your slut" Belle corrects, bucking her hips up like she really needs you.

So you stop messing around and you slide your thick cock into her hot entrance. Her walls pull you in immediately, hugging your cock so tightly that you have to stifle a moan "Fucking hell" you whisper instead. Belle exhales softly as you make eye contact with her then you slide yourself in all the way until you reach the hilt.

The look on her face is pure content as you begin to move inside of her. She watches you, not missing the subtle ways your facial features contort from the pleasure. "Fuck me" She begins to pull at the cuffs, fingers trying to grasp at anything while you pick up the pace.

If she wants to get fucked, I'll fuck her—is what you think to yourself as you lean over.

You're moving faster now, hearing a jumbled up mess of words that escape her lips as you do. She's saying your name like its a prayer, begging for it deeper, faster, harder all at once because she wants you to give her everything. "Fucking—please!! more..more..more" It sounds like she just might die if you don't. So that's exactly what you do, you give her probably more than she can handle.

The quiet bedroom now has the sound of your skin slapping against each other echoing throughout it, then there's that filthy sound coming from between your legs—her arousal is audible especially when you bottom out. It's almost like a splashing sound over and over again occurring fast with your punishing thrusts.

"You feel so fucking good, so fucking tight and wet for me" You spit, watching in real time as you dumb her down with your cock. She's blabbering about something, something about how your cock is too good, how she can't get enough of it. That's about all you're able to make out because she's cutting of her own sentences with loud moans then seemingly forgetting whatever she was going to say next.

You smirk a little because you've whittled her down to this complete and utter embarrassing mess. She wants to touch you—to feel your body and you can tell by the frantic way her hands are moving. You almost snicker at how pathetic she looks right now. "What's wrong? Gonna cum already?" Is the question you ask upon noticing that familiar breathing pattern "Go ahead, do it" you grit through your teeth.

She's gasping for air deliberately, like she has to remind herself to breathe. Still she's able to chant "yes-yes-yes-yes-yes-yes" right before the poor girl stops breathing all together. You keep it hard and deep as she goes silent, your grunts being the only other noise that can be heard over the filthy noises of your sex.

Her body stiffens, only moving from the impact of each of your thrusts. Then finally she exhales, legs shaking as she cums all over your cock like she's been longing to. Her cunt clenches around you so tight that it has you not too far behind her. You let your body fall onto hers so she can feel you close as you ride her body through her orgasm, your hips rolling forwards all slow and calculated. "Good fucking girl" 

When she's finished you pull your hips back to slip your cock out of her. She whines, not liking the feeling of being empty but she doesn't say anything about it. "Where should I finish?" You question her, lifting your body off of hers. You get off of the bed and reach for the nightstand where the keys to the handcuffs are.

You grab them, then you un-cuff her "I'll be happy with whatever you choose, sir" she whimpers, breathing heavily as you move to flip her over.

It's a bit difficult to get a good grip on her sleek skin, but you're able to do it so she's flat on her stomach "Hands and knees." Belle immediately finds the strength to do so, pulling her body up so that she's in the position you've asked her to be in. You get behind her and your hands find her waist "I think I wanna cum in this tight pussy" You mutter, guiding your sensitive tip to her stretched cunt. 

It's begging to be filled again, to be pumped full of your seed.

"Then breed me babe" She breathes, pushing her ass back in an attempt to get you inside when she notices that you're teasing. You only smirk, then you part her lips with your tip, gathering up all the clear slick between her legs. "Come on" Belle moves her hips side to side.

First you run your palm over her soft, round ass and then you slap it harshly. She lets out a pleasureful shriek as you watch the red shape of your hand form on the pale skin. You run the same hand up her hips and stop at her waist which you grip tightly before slip your cock back into her needy cunt.

You put your other hand on her waist, holding her in place while you push your hips forwards. "Christ" You groan because she's way tighter in this position. Starting off slow seems like the right move at first because she's whimpering, so you do.

Until she lets the side of her head rest on the mattress, so she can look at you the best she can in this position. "Don't be afraid to get rough with me babe, I can handle it" She bites her bottom lip so hard you fear she might draw blood. "Use me" She begs you for the nth time with that perfectly seductive voice of hers, making it so hard for you to hold back. You weren't even sure what you were even holding back for anyways.

So while keeping a good grip on her waist, you begin to jackhammer your cock into that wet warmth. "Fuck!" A broken scream tears through her lips and it almost worries you but the lust takes over. You keep hearing it in the back of your mind. use her, use her, use her. So much that you don't care if you're going too hard "Yes! you're fucking me so... fucking good sir!" She keens.

You lean over and reach your hand to find a grip on her hair. She gasps at the sweet pain that comes with the rough pull of your fingers and she's forced to hold herself up with her arms again—which she can barely do. "You're fucking dripping baby" You grunt, getting off on the sharp crack that booms each time your hips come in contact with her round ass. "Such a good slut... taking it so well for me"

"Please" She whines, and you're not entirely sure what she's begging for "Please"

"Please what princess?" You almost growl, feeling your abs begin to burn.

She swallows thickly, moaning like she can't control herself. "f-f-fill me up.. I fucking—God—I fucking need it" 

It's coming, you can feel it in your balls. Her cunt is gripping you so perfectly, so smooth and slick that every drag has your jaw clenching and your mind going blank. You're so unbelievably close to stuffing her full of it--it's the only thing you can think about right now. "Yeah... Belle, gonna fucking... cum in you" Your breaths are labored now because the force you're fucking her with is tiring you out.

"God I'm gonna fucking-" Belle squeals, then a rush of clear liquid begins to spill out from between her legs and her mouth hangs open. The pressure almost kills you right then and there but you keep moving, you can't get enough of her. Even when another—more powerful—burst comes out you only grunt as it runs down her legs and stains the sheets.

"Ah...look at you—squirting for me" You'd chuckle if you weren't so close right now. You end up slowing it down, thrusting hard and deep into her cunt slowly. One. Belle shrieks. Two. She moans deeply.  Three. She bites her lip. Then four and your cock is pulsing and throbbing wildly inside of her the second you bury it inside of her on the fourth thrust. You moan loudly as you fill her needy cunt with your seed. There's so much that it's dripping down the side.

You can only sigh the little bit of breath you have left as it continues, your voice too broken and fucked up to do anything more. She only hums sweetly, giggling as you let go of your grip on her hair and your body collapses onto hers so you lay flat on the bed.

"Holy shit" You swallow, then you gather up the strength to sit yourself up and you put your hand on her now red ass, rubbing the cheek as you catch your breath. "Good girl" Then you remember that you should probably pull her out of her hypnotized state. "Sit up and close your eyes" You breathe. It takes her a moment, you watch as she sort of struggles to do as you say but eventually she does. "At the snap of my fingers, you will wake up"

You snap your fingers and her eyes open "Oh my God" is the only thing that comes out of her mouth. Her expression is unreadable and you're not sure if its a good thing or a bad thing for a second. Then Belle smiles and she climbs on top of you. You're surprised, but you allow it because the second she leans in to kiss you it just feels right. She pulls away "What the fuck? That was so hot" It's like she herself is surprised that it worked too.

"You remember?" You ask, knowing that sometimes people lose memory after they've been hypnotized, but it seems like Belle didn't.

Belle nods her head "Every second" Then she kisses you again "Especially when you fucked my tits, you could've told me you were into that" she teases, taking her bottom lip in between her teeth.

"I know you, you would've laughed at me"

"But I still would've let you do it" She nods

You tilt your head playfully doubting her words "Sure" Is all you say before she pushes you back so that you're laying down.

"Shut up" She mutters before putting her lips on yours again and you're both smiling into the passionate kiss, feeling that familiar fluttering feeling in your stomach. "Thank you for trying this out with me" She seems genuine about it.

You shake your head "I'll try any kinky shit you throw at me"

and there's no doubt you would

[annievrse]

origami flowers

sebastian x reader —ᡣ𐭩 blurb

you hear a familiar voice call your name as you trudge down the hallway of weston college, your shoes clicking against the concrete floor. you're not sure where you're going; being the faux nurse of the school while ciel and sebastian figure out why children are going missing gives you more free time than you're used to. but with no need to go to the infirmary, you've been exploring the campus.

pausing mid-step and spinning, your eyes widen when you see ciel running towards you.

"young master?" your voice goes up an octave in surprise. "what happened?" you ask, your voice sharp with concern.

the younger boy pants with his hands on his knees as he catches his breath. "we have an... issue..."

you glance behind you to check nobody is coming and lean down—it's a good thing everybody is in class. "where's sebastian?"

ciel gives you a worried look and stands straight, his hand wiping the perspiration from his forehead. "that's precisely the problem... i don't know."

furrowing your brows, you sigh and stride past your master. ciel's calls of your name fall on deaf ears as you make a beeline for your infirmary. "i apologise, young master. follow me."

ciel shakes his head in disbelief at the random demand but follows you nonetheless, his steps quickening to catch up to you.

"shouldn't you be in class?" you tease, turning the corner.

ciel rolls his eyes and huffs in annoyance. "i was, but i broke the quill i was using, and i was sent to my dorm to retrieve another."

"i see," you smirk, trying to hold back your giggle. "and did this broken quill have anything to do with the fact that you haven't seen sebastian since last night?"

"perhaps..." he eyes you suspiciously. and then his face slackens and he glares at you. "you know where he is."

you wave your hand flippantly. "i have an idea."

fishing the key to your temporary office out of your blazer pocket, you slide it into the keyhole and twist.

and low and behold, ciel's butler sits hunched over your desk.

ciel lets out a strangled sound and steps into the clinic. "what the devil are you doing in here?"

"my lord," sebastian raises his head in surprise, something foreign to both you and your young master.

sighing, you approach him, watching his hands fold paper delicately.

ciel just shakes his head at the pile of origami flowers overflowing onto the floor next to sebastian. "playing with paper, are we?"

you notice what ciel does a moment later, your cheeks warming at the sheer amount of work he had done. "seb..."

sebastian stands, paper flowers falling from his lap onto the floor as his hand comes to rest on his chest. "i apologise, my lord, i did not realise the time."

he doesn't meet your gaze as you pick up a pink flower and twirl it between your fingers.

ciel narrows his eyes but says nothing at the sight.

"i was unaware i was occupied for this long, my lord. i will get to making the pastries for afternoon tea shortly."

ciel shakes his head, turning toward the door. "no need. they are no longer required. i will handle the situation myself."

sebastian nods despite knowing ciel cannot see. "indeed."

"just be in your office tonight so we can prepare for soma's arrival."

lowering his head, sebastian bows. "yes, my lord."

and when the door to your clinic closes, sebastian's hand returns to his side. "i saw one of the students making them," he gestures to the flowers. "do you like them?"

you smile and nod. "they're incredible, sebastian."

leaning over your desk, he gathers his creations, and before your eyes, they transform into a bouquet. your eyes widen at the sight, and you look up at him. sebastian's cheeks are dusted pink, though you deduce it to the lighting because he doesn't show such emotion.

"these are for you," sebastian mutters, handing you the bunch.

your breath gets caught in your throat before you whisper, "thank you."

a smirk pulls at the corner of sebastian's lips, and he nods once. "you're welcome, dearest."

you turn away from his piercing gaze, grasping the flowers in your arms. "next time you stay in my bed, don't become so distracted from your duties that ciel has to come to me to find you."

this time, sebastian's lips morph into a smug smile. "of course. it won't happen again."

and when you put the origami flowers into an empty vase, you know he's running through all the scenarios where he could do exactly that once more.

[00valentina-writes00]

✞⛧ Random dating thoughts (that slowly get more heated) ✞⛧

𝒜𝒷𝒷𝓎 Edition

✞⛧ Abby would insist on being your gym buddy and make a big deal about spotting you, even if you’re lifting the lightest weights. “Babe, safety first!” Meanwhile, she’s bench-pressing twice your body weight with ease.

✞⛧ She eats like she’s fueling a tank, so if you order fries, you better guard them with your life. But if you pout, she’ll reluctantly push her plate toward you. “Fine, take some… just not the chicken.”

✞⛧ She casually challenges you to arm-wrestling matches, and even if you lose every time, she makes a point of flexing and teasing: “Don’t feel bad—these guns are a gift, really.”

✞⛧ Abby has mastered the art of braiding hair thanks to her own routine, but she’s shockingly bad at braiding your hair because she gets nervous about pulling too hard. “How do you not sit still for this?!”

✞⛧ When she’s into you, her flirting style is a mix of being overly cocky and downright awkward. “I could totally carry you on my shoulders and outrun a horde. Wanna test it out?”

✞�� Abby has a fierce protective instinct. She’s the type to walk you home even if the world’s relatively safe, and she’ll always scan your surroundings for anything suspicious.

✞⛧ While she’s tough and stoic most of the time, Abby opens up about her past with you in small, vulnerable moments—usually when she feels safe in your arms.

✞⛧ Her love language would absolutely include acts of service. Whether it’s repairing your gear or making sure you have enough to eat, Abby shows her love by ensuring your needs are met.

✞⛧ She’d establish a small tradition, like watching the sunrise together after her early morning workouts, with you groggily sipping coffee while she teases you about “needing more gains.”

✞⛧ She’d lean on you during tough times but struggle to admit when she needs help. You’d have to gently remind her that being strong doesn’t mean carrying everything alone.

✞⛧ Once Abby Finds Out You Can’t Open Jars It’s over. She teases you constantly. She’ll swoop in with a dramatic, “Don’t worry, I got this,” flex her biceps unnecessarily, and pop it open in one try—every single time.

✞⛧ You Snore? She records it. Every time. Then uses it as leverage when you tease her about her overly serious workout routines. “You think I’m dramatic? Babe, listen to this masterpiece.”

✞⛧ You’d think she’d be bad at cooking, but she’s weirdly good. However, she only knows how to make portions that could feed a military base. “You said you were hungry. This is a reasonable amount of spaghetti.” (It’s not.)

✞⛧ Abby Learns About TikTok? She doesn’t really get it but becomes obsessed with the fitness trends. Suddenly, she’s asking you to record her doing ridiculous challenges, like trying to do pushups with you sitting on her back. (An:IM HAVING WHITHDRAWLS)

✞⛧ Abby is confident on the battlefield, but when it comes to dating, she can get a bit awkward. She stumbles over her words, especially if she’s nervous about impressing you.

✞⛧ Abby shows her affection by doing things for you, like fixing something you need or sharing her limited rations. She’s the type to ensure your boots are patched and your weapon is ready.

✞⛧ She loves teasing you, especially once she gets more comfortable. Whether it’s poking fun at your bad aim or how much you complain about patrols, it’s always lighthearted and affectionate.

✞⛧ Abby gives the best hugs—firm, warm, and grounding. She holds you tightly as if to shield you from the world.

✞⛧ While she’s strong and intimidating to others, she’s incredibly gentle with you. She’ll brush your hair out of your face, kiss your forehead, and hold your hand when you’re anxious.

✞⛧ Abby is always looking for small items that might make you happy—whether it’s a flower she finds, a worn-out book, or something she crafts herself.

✞⛧ In rare quiet moments, she’ll grab your hand and sway with you to the faint sound of music from an old record player or her own humming.

✞⛧ Her apologies are sincere and often accompanied by small actions to make it up to you, like offering to take over your duties for the day.

✞⛧ Once Abby falls for you, she’s all in. She’s fiercely loyal and will do anything to ensure your happiness and safety.

✞⛧ Though she struggles to express her feelings at first, over time she becomes more vocal about how much you mean to her. “You’re the reason I keep fighting” is something you’d hear her say during particularly tough days.

✞⛧ Abby doesn’t say “I love you” often, but when she does, it’s raw, heartfelt, and utterly sincere. She prefers to show her love in the little things—like keeping your favorite item safe or holding your hand just a little tighter in dangerous moments.

✞⛧ She watches you when you’re not looking, memorizing every little thing about you. If you catch her, she’ll smirk but won’t admit to it.

✞⛧ Abby tends to fidget around you—twisting a knife in her hand or adjusting her gear—especially when she’s nervous or unsure how to express her feelings.

✞⛧ Abby hates unresolved tension and prefers to address issues head-on, though her bluntness can sometimes make things worse.

✞⛧ She ensures you’re always safe in their post-apocalyptic world. Abby checks your surroundings meticulously, insists on teaching you self-defense, and would sacrifice everything to protect you.

✞⛧ Abby is the kind of partner who will always have your back, whether it’s a dangerous encounter or someone making a rude comment. She doesn’t tolerate disrespect towards you.

✞⛧ Watching her play fetch with a dog like Alice is a sight to behold. If you join in, she’ll grin from ear to ear, clearly smitten with the simple joy of the moment.

✞⛧ She brushes strands of hair out of your face or gently holds your chin to make you look at her when she wants your full attention.

✞⛧ Abby is attentive to your needs. If you’re upset, she won’t always have the right words, but she’ll stay by your side, offering silent comfort or a grounding hand on your shoulder.

✞⛧ Abby’s kisses are slow, purposeful, and full of intensity. At first, she’s gentle, her lips tenderly exploring yours as though she’s savoring the moment. But as the kiss deepens, her confidence takes over, and she becomes more demanding, pressing you against her with a firm grip on your waist.

✞⛧ She’s a fan of long, passionate kisses, often wanting to take her time to feel the connection. However, when she’s feeling playful or needy, she can turn it into something heated quickly.

✞⛧ Abby loves kissing you on your forehead, especially when she’s feeling particularly affectionate or protective. It’s her way of showing she cares without saying it

✞⛧ Your loyalty is something she treasures deeply, as she finds it hard to trust others, but with you, she feels safe to let her guard down.

✞⛧ Abby’s drawn to how you challenge her, whether it’s in casual conversations or in moments of intimacy, always keeping her on her toes and making her think.

✞⛧ She adores the way you show affection, especially when you offer small, tender gestures that demonstrate your care for her, like tracing her scars or offering her a quiet moment to breathe.

✞⛧ Abby’s not shy about leaving marks, especially when she’s feeling possessive or protective. She loves to mark you as hers, a reminder to anyone else that you belong to her.

✞⛧ She can be a little rough with you when she’s particularly heated, biting or sucking on your skin with a sense of urgency. She might even pause to admire the hickeys afterward, a slight smirk on her face as she watches you squirm from the heat (If you’ve been together for a while, Abby might leave little marks in places only the two of you know about, as a private symbol of her affection and control.)

✞⛧ Abby’s dirty talk is rough, no holds barred, and calculated. She’s all about taking control and making you beg for it, and she doesn’t hold back from calling you names or pushing your buttons in all the right ways.

✞⛧ Abby doesn’t give up control easily. She’s a hard dom, and she expects you to follow her lead. It turns her on to see you submit to her

✞⛧ she loves spanking you. It could start slow, just a teasing tap, but it escalates quickly as she sees how much it turns you on. She’ll mark you up, and the sting from the slap on your ass stays with you long after she’s done.

✞⛧ While missionary can feel intimate, Abby likes to switch things up by pinning your wrists above your head and giving you no escape. It’s a perfect position for eye contact, and she enjoys how much control it gives her over your pleasure.

✞⛧ Abby gets off on lifting you, pinning you up against a wall or any available surface. The feeling of holding you up while taking you hard and fast turns her on

✞⛧ Abby isn’t gentle when she uses a strap-on. She goes all in, thrusting deeply, making you take all of it, all while commanding you to take her. She’ll order you to stay still, make you beg, and won’t let you move until she tells you to.

✞⛧ She loves watching you as she fucks you with the strap-on. Seeing your face contort with pleasure, the way you squirm beneath her, and hearing the moans and gasps you can’t hold back only heightens her desire. She’ll often tease you about how desperate you look.

✞⛧ Sometimes, Abby enjoys taking her time, slowly sliding in and out, building the intensity. She’ll alternate between gentle thrusts and hard, punishing ones. She likes to see how much you can handle before she goes faster or harder.