#I completed most of it in a sleep deprived haze

[ohno-the-sun]

I have lots of thoughts on how the animatronics minds work (especially Sun and Moon) and idk where to put this since it’s not fanfic worthy but I feel the need to put it all down somewhere

Sorta just a brain dump don’t mind me

(just some preface I have very little programming experience and while some of this alludes to real psychology, this is not scientifically accurate at all, just my headcannons)

Now first to establish how the AI work it’s essentially a learning system that compiles multiple directives and inputs to make a decision.

Basically there are multiple learning modules that each receive the same sensory input, but each module has a different directive that it codes for. For example pretty much every animatronic has a “safety” directive that prioritizes human safety and the Glamrocks have a “showtime” directive that helps them perform on stage. Each animatronic can have hundreds to thousands of directives running at any given point. Each directive essentially works by taking the sensory input given to it and spitting out a suggested “action” that should take place given its directive. These actions are then sent to the core processor where there the taken action is chosen. For example, if an animatronic sees a fallen child, an action suggested by the “showtime” directive would be to sing to the child, but a directive from the “safety” directive would be scanning for wounds. Both actions would be sent to the core processor, and based upon probability algorithms (where each action is assigned a probability of 0-100% of being chosen, based on a variety of factors), it would likely choose the safety protocol action. So like the singing option would be assigned a probability of 2% and the scan for wounds suggestion would be assigned a probability of 98%. (Staff consider the “choosing” of a particular action to be completely random, but to the animatronics it’s sorta their free will) This process happens multiple times every second, allowing for adaptability and additions to the behavior. Very basic robots, like the staff bots, only work on one or two directives, making them much less adaptable and sentient compared to the others. It should be noted that not all suggested actions are actual “physical” actions, some could be replaying a memory, changing the probability of another directive being chosen, or simply stating a fact/opinion that a particular directive emphasizes. For an example for the last one, the safety directive could point out “there is snow outside, it will be cold” which could lead to a change in probability for another directive, like the “proper attire” directive.

Now one thing about these directives is that each animatronic has differing levels of awareness of them. Awareness of directives manifests as sorta being able to hear one’s thoughts, like being aware of your own decision making process or hearing thoughts that you otherwise would not act on. Ranking the more complex animatronics in order of least to most aware of their directives we have, Monty, DJ, Chica, Freddy, Roxy, and the DCA (my beloved).

Starting with Monty, even though he’s the least aware of his directives, this doesn’t mean he’s the least sentient. Simply put, he’s a action man first think later kinda guy. He doesn’t like dwelling too long on thoughts or feelings that aren’t important to the present situation. This doesn’t mean he doesn’t still have them though. This ends up messing with his core processor probability mechanism, making him far more impulsive than any other animatronic. When he starts getting errant inputs from a virulent directive (cough cough the peepaw virus) this causes him to act out more violently. He also has a bit of an issue straight up ignoring thoughts that are “bad” to him, like anything to do with a certain rabbit animatronic. 

DJ simply vibes man. He has fewer directives compared to the other complex animatronics, mainly because he rarely directly interacts with humans and tends to stay in one place. This however makes him unstable when a new set of directives are put in place that entail security (the bouncer mode). But he’s overall less impulsive than Monty and is self aware of what directives are running at any given point. He rarely has any conflicts with any of the thoughts he receives, so he doesn’t dwell on them. He is the second most stable animatronic emotionally.

Chica is sorta similar to Monty in that she tends to avoid her thoughts and feelings. She’s a far more self aware of them, and purposely takes actions to avoid hearing them (ie overeating) but other than thoughts that depress her, she’s relatively in tune with them. She ends up being very extroverted as she becomes less aware of her directives when shes with others. This makes her seem kinda airheaded, but when she is alone she does tends to get more contemplative. However when a virus starts to isolate her and increase the number of directives/thoughts that upset her, she goes fully into her bad habits.

Freddy is probably the most stable out of all the animatronics (other than maybe DJ). Even before the virus started to effect everyone, Freddy was always the most dependable and strong. In terms of his headspace, this is mainly because he has a good balance of aware and unaware directives. As seen with those previous, having too little awareness of one’s directives can cause impulsiveness, and we will see later what over awareness can do. Even when Freddy has unwanted thoughts/directives, he is able to reason and process them in a healthy way. Some directives relating to Bonnie do mess with his processor though, but other than those, he is relatively stable.

Roxy tries to seem like she doesn’t care, or hear her own thoughts, but that is a fat lie. She has a lot of errant directives that greatly affect the probability calculations of her core processor. This mainly stems from a lot of her directives being related to her appearance, giving her a lot of input she can’t do anything directly about unless she calls staff. This has given her a lot of self image issues. She makes up for this by continually choosing the most “cool” options, even if it’s not the best action for the situation. This leads to her being pretty mean to the other animatronics, staff, and kids. She’s closest to Chica, as she’s the only one who also has a lot of appearance directives (ayo sexism?), but as mentioned before she has more methods to quiet those thoughts.

Last but not least the daycare attendant. The daycare attendant is unique in that it has two main “modes” Sun and Moon. Each mode has the same directives and core processor, but the probabilities of suggested actions being chosen are changed greatly between the two. For example, the probability of naptime and security directive actions being chosen are reduced greatly in Sun mode, and playtime and crafting directives are reduced in Moon mode. Meaning if the situation calls for it, the other mode can still access its counterparts directives, but in daily use the likelihood of those options being taken are so low they basically never happen. This was meant to be the only difference between the two modes, as with only one processor, there would essentially be only one animatronic in the body. But there was a bug that lead to the memories of the daycare attendant to be split. Now one thing to clarify, memories are considered sensory input, so they go directly to directive modules to aid in learning, but don’t necessarily need to pass through the main processor. However, the only way animatronics are able to consciously recall a memory is if a directive  suggests playing it to the main processor, and that can change its probability calculations. Now the bug Sun and Moon have prevents directives from replaying memories from their counterparts database, essentially preventing recall from an event that happens to them in the other mode. But, the individual directives still processed the memories as they happened regardless of mode (for psychology nerds Sun and Moon basically share implicit memories but don’t share explicit). Now if the daycare attendant were any other animatronic, they would probably be okay. Maybe have some memory issues but their directives are in sync so they would still be one animatronic, except both Sun and Moon are hyper aware of their individual thoughts/directives. Moon sometimes gets thoughts to yell and wake all the children he spent an hour trying to get to bed. Sun wakes up to suddenly have multiple thoughts about certain children needing punishment, except for Sun that child was fine for him. For both, the others memories and directives creates intrusive thoughts for the other, making it difficult to discern which thoughts and feelings belong to them, and which belong to the other. This made both start to develop distinct identities, to the point they consider the other a completely different AI (even though again, they only have one processor). Moon’s directives are far more dangerous compared to Sun’s so for him this has created massive anxiety and frustration. He is not only receiving thoughts and input that are not safe for when children are around, but he is also constantly second guessing himself, not knowing whether or not an action will cause unwanted harm. This makes Sun the incredibly nervous person we see. Moon in general is less scared of his counterpart’s interference, but the constant barrage of both his own and Sun’s thoughts is a lot to deal with. This leads to him being kind of a recluse and really quiet, earning the reputation as the plex cryptid from the other animatronics. He also has a major complex when it comes to comparing himself to Sun, being overly self deprecating and having a skewed viewpoint as to how Sun is like (since they don’t really ‘know’ each other very well). His overthinking is somewhat lessened when he becomes friends with Monty and forms a line of communication with Sun (essentially writing notes to each other constantly), but once Monty joins the main band and the virus starts affecting Moon, everything starts to go south. The virus is a directive, so technically it affects both Sun and Moon, however, the probability of “virus” directives being chosen is far higher for Moon than Sun (since it’s categorized as a security directive). Therefore we have both Sun constantly receiving these extremely distressing thoughts and Moon acting on these thoughts. Tldr, both Sun and Moon are extreme overthinkers who have intrusive thoughts, for Sun this causes anxiety, for Moon this causes depression.

Extra stuff:

Sun and Moon tend to get overwhelmed when they are in situations that activate their counterparts directives. For example darkness and conflict for Sun and bright lights and loud noises for Moon. This leads to them both avoiding these situations as often as possible (Sun being conflict avoidant and Moon preferring a nice dark quiet space to hide away in).

Staff are not sure what determines how aware an animatronic is of their own directives and write it off as a bug.

The virus very specifically targets instabilities in the animatronics programming, taking directives from the base processor and twisting them to be more violent and bad. Basically taking their worst personality traits and turning them against the animatronic. For example, for Moon it amplifies his negative thoughts about Sun, the other animatronics and himself, and suggests violent ways to deal with it. This is how they are able to amplify the probability of these violent actions from being chosen. 

#sundrop #moondrop #fnaf #fnaf headcannons #fnaf sb #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #long post #I could go on and on about this #might add more later #tw intrusive thoughts #let me know if there's anything else I need to tag #i want to add more for DJ but im having a hard time coming up with stuff #he doesn't ever talk in the game #hmmm #also me inserting my moon x monty agenda #glittergolf #I hope this is understandable #I completed most of it in a sleep deprived haze #me trying to come up with a mechanism that would mimic the human mind in robots #also context for some drawings I make #brain thought

[l0vergirlv0mit]

Bags

Song to go with: Bag by Clairo ❤️

Pairing: College!Hazel Callahan x Reader

Summary: you’ve been in love with your best friend for years. Watching her date people sucks especially when one of the absolutely despises you.

Contents/warning: Switch!Hazel x Switch!Reader, fingering, oral, pet names, nipple play, cursing, threats, light? violence (nothing gory), sm yearning.

A/n: for the dorm imagine Buffy and willows dorm from btvs<3. Also reader isn’t fem but also isn’t masc but is definitely masc leaning. for my in between girlies 😘.

You alarm clock rudely wakes you up with an incessant buzz. Hitting it a bit to hard it falls off your night stand making you groan into the sunlit room. You sit up with squinted eyes not noticing that Hazel was still in the dorm. “Well good morning sleepy head.” She smiles at your groggy state.

You wake up just enough to snatch the alarm clock of the ground and punch it off. “Ughhh good morning.” Your eyes finally adjust to the light fully taking Hazel in. She was still in her pjs wearing a white wife pleaser and low waisted grey sweats. “Shouldn’t you be in class right now?” You ask her confused as to why she was skipping her morning class.

“I should but Anya had me up till 2.” She clasps her hands around the back of her neck. She still had her tired raspy voice probably having woken up a couple minutes before you. “Oh god spare me.” Suppressing an eye roll you got up from the bed and grabbed your towel, getting ready to go to the showers. Anya pissed you off to no end.

And it wasn’t because she was dating the person you wanted more than anything (maybe a little bit). It was her glares and her back handed compliments that she gave you any chance she could. How she would snap at people over anything and everything she was extremely abrasive.

Your friends tried to explain that that was just her personality but you didn’t function like that you were quiet and sweet. Both didn’t mix well so she tended to single you out. Always trying to push you out of your comfort zone by teasing and getting a rise out of you. You can barley ask a waiter for ketchup let alone defend yourself. But you refuse to tell Hazel about her behavior because she was happy. She was so sweet to Hazel and that made you most livid.

“Not like that y/n we went out for our 4 months.” She grinned at your scrunched face. “How fun nothing says I love you like sleep deprivation.” She raises her eyebrows at your grouchy mood with a soft smile still on her lips.

“Oh wow someone’s moody, anyway Josie was texting the group chat about a going to the bar tonight are you gonna come?” Hazel asks you hoping you’d say yes because you never go out. “Mmm I’ll think about it Haze Ill probably have a lot of work to do.” Hazel sighs. “Pleaseeee you never come out with us anymore.” She give you a pleading look. “I have a lot of today I’ll let you know if I’m up for it.” You giggle at her childish tone and pat her shoulder then leave the dorm.

—

You let Hazel know you were coming and put your phone down and change out of your work clothes. Your style has always been a bit more grungy and masculine only really dressing a bit feminine for special events or outings.

You put on your favorite baggy black jeans that hung off your hips so beautifully. Then put on a spaghetti strap tank top and a long sleeve over it made of black mesh and lace that was completely see through. You left your hair messy and smudged black shadow and liner on your eyes. Finishing off your outfit by putting on your black docs.

Hazel was already with the group so you drove yourself to Josie, PJ, and Isabel’s shared apartment. You found your way to the apartment door knocking timidly. You rock back and forth on your feet waiting for someone to open the door.

When someone finally does it’s her. She doesn’t talk to you directly. “Y/n is here now guys can we finally leave?” She says not letting you in yet talking to YOUR friends behind the door.

Hazel quickly comes to the door and smiles brightly at you pulling you in by your hand . “Oh wow someone’s trying to get lucky tonight.” Hazel softly says nudging you. This earns you a glare from Anya.

The group sits in the living room area to catch up before heading out. Everyone’s talking but your mind is elsewhere. You’ve always been the quieter one of the group so your lack of conversation goes unnoticed.

You can’t help but stare at Hazel and Anya. A deep grief blooms in your chest. Hazels arm around Anya protectively. Anya tucks a piece of hair behind Hazels ear and kissed her on the cheek. Hazels face becomes so soft and loving it tears you apart wishing so bad that you were Anya. Hazels hand travels to her waist to pull her closer just to top it off.

You look at Anya for a bit taking in how perfect and pretty she is. She’s so feminine and put together. She was everything you would never be. She had on a full face of makeup that was perfectly done and a dress that hugged in all the right spots. She was an absolutely gorgeous girl.

You were only pulled out of this haze by Josie putting her hand on your knee. Knowing exactly what was going through your mind. You had drunkenly told her about your 2 year long crush on Hazel in a club bathroom. You look back at her with glazed over eyes and squeeze her hand as a silent thank you.

“Are you guys ready to get wasted cause I am.” Josie announced and pulled you up with her off the couch. She looks to you and smiles trying to change the mood that’s setting in. You smile back but felt suffocated anyway and had to leave. Everyone excitedly agrees and heads over the bar.

—

This bar was THE bar all the college kids go there to find hookups and get drunk. The group gets drinks to loosen up but you decide to hold off for tonight. You let your friends make you dance their tipsy state amusing you. You move timidly at first but the encouragement from your friends has you swaying to the music.

You danced with Britney trying to absorb her confidence in some way. When Hazel comes over to playfully dance with you twirling you around and giggling. She saw your shyness and was trying to remedy it.

She made you sway with her hands on your waist. It was all friendly and playful and you were best friends so it wasn’t unusual behavior.

Nonetheless you felt your face get warmer at her proximity. Anya was staring from the bar after telling Hazel she didn’t feel like dancing. Anya really thought Hazel was just going to sit there and watch all of her friends dance instead.

Anya quickly changed her mind though. Seeing you too make her jealous. Hopping out of her seat and waltzing over to shove you away from Hazel with feigned innocence. Hazel mouths sorry towards you and it was your turn to go to the bar and watch from a far. You get yourself a coke to sip on since you would be driving later, not much of a drinker anyway.

You sit there mindlessly scrolling your phone trying to keep yourself occupied. Watching them still it hurts your chest. Hazel holds Anya close she has her face in the crook of her neck holding her from behind. It was a real sight. Especially when Hazel looked so good. Her cropped white tee and baggy jeans left just enough midriff exposed to mesmerize you.

Josie comes to sit besides you breaking your trance. “I hate her.” Is all she says and she looks from Anya to you. “Me too.” You both laugh together. “Yeah she’s kind of a bitch isn’t she.” Josie remarks pressing her lips together and furrowing her brows.

“Yeah she’s something.” You huffed and smiled brighter grateful for your friendship .That’s when Josie gets a certain look that you know to well. “You wanna smoke?” She flashes you a wide grin and wiggles her eyebrows. “Oh god yes.” You take one last sip of your coke and follow her outside.

—

You and Josie walk back into the bar in a hazy giggle. After a shit talking session that had you loosing your shit and gasping at gossip. You go to dance again and you notice Anya arguing with Hazel.

Anya rolled her eyes and says something that made Hazels face contort into hurt. Hazel says something in a pout then storms off in the other direction. “Jesus they do this shit every fucking night bro.” Josie rolls her eyes following Hazel to the bathroom. Every night? You though to yourself. You were under the impression everything was great?

The anger taking over your body doesn’t let you ponder over it more. Body moving without you telling it too, you yank her shoulder to face you. She was taller than you and definitely stronger then you but you didn’t care. The face Hazel made at Anya was enough motivation. You could’ve fought 10 frat boys and won.

“Hey! What did you say to her.” You could stand her being mean to you but being mean Hazel was absolutely not allowed. “I don’t think that’s any of your business y/n.”

She looks you up and down. “I suggest you fuck off before I tell her your little secret.” She gets closer to you only inches from your face. “What do you mean secret?” You started getting nervous. She grabs your face in her hand and looks in your scared eyes. “Your in love with her. It’s pathetic really the way you gawk at her.” Her acrylics are digging into your cheeks. Frantically staring at her in disbelief.

“Start keeping your distance y/n, Im not worried about you im just annoyed that you THINK that could happen. Like she’d ever be into someone like you.”

She let’s go of your face lightly tapping it. You feel tears fill your eyes about to break the barrier of your water line. “I-i… f-fuck you Anya.” Tears cascade down your face. Anya just vocalized your internal thoughts for the past 2 years now your sure she’s some demon from hell that crawled out to make your life miserable.

Just as Hazel and Josie come out of the bathroom they see you walk quickly out of the bar. Hazel feels completely exhausted, this was supposed to be a fun night you FINALLY agreed to have fun and hang out again.

Hazel follows you out just catching up to you when you get to the door of your car. “Y/n! Wait! Please, where are you going it’s barley been an hour?” She looks at you confused eye brows pushed together and hands on her hips. “I’m tired Hazel.” You can’t face her you can’t stop the tears rolling down.

You open the door but Hazel puts a firm hand down closing it again getting frustrated at your short response. You finally look her in the eyes and she takes you in. “Holy shit y/n are you ok?” She goes to put a hand on your shoulder but you flinch. Her face becomes even more worried than before. Staring at the streaks running down your cheeks.

“Please Hazel I just wanna go home. I’ll talk to you tomorrow ok.” Hazel moves her hand from the door and lets you open it. “We will talk about this tomorrow?” She ask you to get more confirmation. “We will.” You reassured her knowing talking was the last thing you were gonna do.

You drove back to your dorm still feeling shocks of fear pulse through you at the thought of Hazel knowing you were completely in love with her. Losing her would do more than wreck you. She’s been your best friend for what felt like forever.

Finally inside your dorm you rip your clothes off and put you pjs on as fast as you could. You didn’t bother to take your make up off and fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. Thank god for the weed.

—

Your woken up by the jiggling of keys. You turn to look at the time and you way overslept. “Oh your up.” She closes the door lightly walking over to your bed. She puts a brown paper on your nightstand and smiled softly at you. “I got you a bagel from the place we like, I made sure they put extra cheese and hash browns. And I got you salsa.” The same sadness you felt the night before washed over you. Her sweetness makes you fall apart in more ways then one.

“Thanks Hazel.” You can only produce a small awkward smile. “Do you wanna talk about last night?” She carefully sat next to you and put her hand on your back, rubbing up and down. “I’m ok Hazel, really it’s fine.” You brush her off.

“I can’t help you if you push me away y/n. You’ve been really distant recently I’m worried. I-i mean did I do something?” She spoke softly and looked at your face silently begging for you to look her in the eyes instead of the floor.

But you can’t you start to cry before you can even get a word out. “No you didn’t do anything I’m sorry. Last night Anya was just really mean. Well she’s mean every time I’m around her but I-I’m sorry.” You spoke through tears and hiccups not even knowing even know why you were saying sorry. Regretting everything you just said. You knew Anya was going to tell her—everything was going to be ripped away from you.

Hazels face contorted into anger and shock. You were petrified that you had made her angry at you. “Anya did this.” Her tone was steady and dark. You nodded. Her jaw was clenched and her fist balled breathing heavily. She grabs her keys and opens the door. “I’ll be back in 30 minutes.” She shut the door behind her harder than she meant too. She quite literally couldn’t control her anger. She liked Anya, a lot actually, but the fighting has gotten to much. Hazel could handle a bit of sass from her here and there. But knowing she hurt you had Hazel enraged.

—

It had been 45 minutes of you sitting there bouncing your leg. Shaking anticipating the consequences of your breakdown. You tried watching a movie to get your mind off of your situation but you couldn’t focus. The bagel on your nightstand making you nauseous just by being there. Frustrated tears forcing there way up every once in a while.

You hear the knob jiggle and keys. Your immediately alerted. Hazel calmly walks through the door and moves to where you’ve come to stand infront of your bed. She takes your face into her soft hands pulling you into the deepest kiss you’ve ever had. When she finally lets you catch your breath she looks in your watery eyes .

“Why did you never tell me.” She whispers looking over your post cry face. Your lips puffy and pink frustrated cheeks. You notice that her lip is busted and she has a mark on her cheek that is definitely going to turn into a bruise. “Y-you aren’t angry? Are you ok?” You started to tear up again from the relief.

“No baby i could never be angry at you. And I’m fine just thought I should put what I’ve learned in my boxing class to use.” As she’s wiping your tears way, your remember, her and Anya took the same boxing class; thats actually how they met. Hazel looked angry but you didn’t think she was THAT angry. “I didn’t think you thought I was pretty.” She pulls you closer to her. “What! Why is that?” She questioned from the crook of your neck. “Cause you date girls like Anya I didn’t think I was your type.”

Hazel suddenly starts placing kisses on your neck. She realizes she has you turning into putty in her hands, like she always wanted. Everything about you was captivating to her in this moment. The way you smelled, the way your skin felt, how she could hear your breathing pick up with every kiss.

Your heart was racing you couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “Your not gonna have to worry about Anya anymore honey, I promise. Your the only girl I want. And your sooo my type.” Hazel sucks a bruise with no warning into your neck and licks over it. “Oh my god Hazel please.” Your hand reaches up into her hair your fingers tangled in her silky brown tresses. “Please what baby?”

Your face got impossibly redder whole body on fire unsure of how to answer her. Feeling the way Hazels hands roamed you made your head spin. You just couldn’t take it anymore pulling her up lightly by the hair to have her look at you.

“I need you.”

You make sure you say it clearly. Hazels eyes become more lidded than before overcome with lust. She pushed you backwards towards her bed until you fall into her sheets.

“Y-your so beautiful.” Shes stammering seeing you laid out in HER bed. She connects your lips again teeth clashing and tongues fighting for dominance.

You want to make her feel as good as she’s making you feel. Her knee comes between your legs giving you relief from pulsing heart beat that’s developed.

Your grinding on each other urgently. Years of pent up sexual frustration and longing being released.

You try to keep up with her kisses the best you can. The friction making you lose control. Completely entangled in each other, hands trying to feel every part of her.

Exchanging heavy breaths and soft whimpers. It was frenzied and sloppy it was the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced.

You tug her shirt over her head. She does the same for your exposing your bare chest. “Fuck.” Her brows pushing together as she feels her arousal pooling in her boxers. She can’t help but gently thumb your hard nipple trailing kisses from your collar bone to your breast.

She took the soft flesh into her mouth leaving hot kisses. Her hand massaged the other. Her lips wrapped around your nipple and released it with a pop. You let out a strained moan.

Her hand traveled to the waist band of your pajamas pants. Teasing you with her fingers moving back and forth under the fabric.

“Can I take these off.” She ask you her eyes begging you to say yes, desperate to see all of you. “Please” You nodded and she gently undressed you leaving your skin vulnerable to cool air for your dorm.

It doesn’t matter though, because Hazels warm body is pressed to you in a second. Her hand trails from your breast to your hip slowly, keeping your attention.

“Do you know how long Ive wanted you?” You shake your head, voice escaping you in the moment. Her finger slides through your folds, your wetness sending waves of pleasure and confidence through her. The sound alone made her ache.

“Way to fucking long.” She slips a finger in your soaked needy hole. You let out an open mouthed exhale. She slips in another finger. “Fuck! Mm-n!”

Her fingers stretched you out and the sensation was mind numbing. An endless repeat hazelhazelhazelhazel. Was all you could think about. Her fingers curled at a slow pace hitting just the right spot. Working your clit with her thumb at the same time.

“Im I making you feel good honey?” Her voice was gentle and attentive. The way she was grinding down on your thigh mixed with your pretty noises was making her go insane. Your moans start to get more frequent. As you were embarrassingly close to release so soon. “S-so good Hazel.”

“Talk to me sweetheart. This is all mine now right?” Hazel questions you her pace picking up and mouthing your tits. “All yours all yours all yours all…” You mumbled to her as your eyes flutter. “That’s right honey.” She kept a rough tempo leaving marks on your chest until you were finally coming undone under her.

Shes watches as your orgasm possesses you. Moaning her name as you arch your back grinding yourself against her fingers. “Yeah honey just like that cum for me baby.” She doesn’t stop till your squirming from overstimulation.

You catch your breath for a second before becoming focused. You didn’t want your fatigue from your orgasm to keep you from pleasing her. Hazels already pulling you into another deep kiss like before.

“I want to make you feel good now Hazel.” She seemed a little shocked. As you think about the girls she’s hooked up that’s probably not the kind of treatment she was used too.

“You don’t have to y/n, making you cum is pleasure enough.” She seemed almost nervous. You shake your head and take her hand placing the two fingers that were just fucking deep inside of you into your mouth.

Releasing them with a pop. Her eyes are droopy and mouth slightly open. Her chest breathing deeply overwhelmed with lust. “No Hazel. I really want to make you feel good.”

Hazels ripping off her sports bra without another word. You nudge her shoulder down and straddle her. She’s frantically trying to take her sweats and boxers off. You help her rip them off and throw them across the room.

The sight is beautiful she’s completely soak, all you want is to have your face between her thighs. “Can I taste you?” You ask coyly as your hands rub up and down the tops of her thighs, your words going straight to her core. “Fuck, y-yeah, yes p-please—I mean.”

You settle between her thighs leaving light kisses on her inner thighs. Hazels having a hard time keeping still with you so close to where she needed you.

You look up into her eyes through your lashes as your breath fans over her soaked cunt. She lets out a whimper on accident and it set her body on fire with embarrassment.

Finally you lick a broad stripe. Hazel sign in relief. Her fingers pulling at your roots. Your hands are hooked over her thighs keeping them apart. Tongue flicking over her clit at a pace YOU didn’t even know was possible.

Hazel eased into the feeling of being taken care of. She’s switching between look you in the eyes and looking at the ceiling when the shyness become too much. She quietly took in the sensation of being taken care of before speaking trying to get rid of the shyness.

“I’ve thought about you like this s-so many nights.” Hazel mumbles out between whimpers. You push your finger into her curling. “Yeah?” You question quickly. She throws her head back when you go back to sucking on her clit.

You add another finger. Pace becoming quicker and deeper. “I always imagined this,oh god,h-happening during one of our movie nights.” You hum into her creating a whole new sensation as her legs start to quake. “I th-thought youd take the hint. Oh god don’t stop.”

She let out a soft laugh until the knot in her stomach was becoming to much to handle. “I mean we c-cuddled for like 3 hours at a time! Shitshitshit!” Hazels grip on your hair became tight as her eyes rolled back, letting out a loud moan. The knot in her stomach snapping as the white hot feeling flushes over her.

You watch her in awe. Her chest heaving as she grinds into you her other hand gripping the headboard showing her toned tricep.

You help her fully ride out her orgasm then pull away to use your shirt to clean yourself in and lay next to her gently.

Hazel turns to look at you with a tired smile spreading across her face. She cups your cheek once more kissing your forehead. “I thought it would end like this too.” She says to you quietly. “Me too.” You reply going to kiss the tip of her nose. She looks into your eyes for a moment thinking.

Her eyebrows push together as a though crosses her mind. “Did you ever eat the bagel?” You laugh at her genuinely concerned question and pull her into an embrace, warm bodies lovingly entwined. “No I actually thought I was dying though in my defense.” Hazel pouts at you.

“Did you beat up Anya?” You question her instead. “I tried to but she honestly kicked my ass sooo bad, like embarrassing I’m so happy you weren’t there” You laughed at this too.

“I looked cool though right?” She dropped her voice dramatically. “Oh yeah sooo cool.” She gasped at your sarcasm.

When your both of yours laughter dies down it’s seems both of you have the same realization that your best friend was now your girlfriend. Eyes saying what they needed too.

“You wanna watch a movie?” You asked quietly. “Only after you eat cause a $12 bagel on a college student budget is atrocious.” She kissed your forehead and nudged you to get up.

(Thank you for reading😙)

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms 2023 #bottoms movie #hazel callahan imagine #hazel callahan x you

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Scars

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 1.3K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: mention of smut but nothing too vivid, Tav history but nothing horrible, kinda funny in some ways, really enjoyed writing this one and if you don't like it - I hate to tell you but you are wrong (I don't make the rules here sorry (I def do make the rules)), I'm so sleep deprived lord help me

-------------------------

You laid across from Astarion, enjoying each other's company as the early morning rays of golden sunshine cascaded into the tent. It was the first night you had slept together of Astarion’s own volition. After defeating Cazador, he decided to try living again and he wanted to indulge in every way possible, including indulging in you. It was sweet, gentle, thoughtful lovemaking. Ensuring you were both comfortable and consenting was at the forefront of both your minds. You laid on your combined bedrolls nude, your lower halves covered by a thin blanket. Astarion traced over your face deftly, his fingers subconsciously tracing over the scars that crossed your eye, cheek, and lips. 

“How did you get these?” he asked suddenly.

Your eyes opened completely, waking from their sleepy haze to find his.

“Forgive me, that was rude… you don’t have to tell me.” he said, shaking his head. 

You smiled at him, kissing him briefly. “I’m just as old as you, I have quite a few scars if you’d like to hear the many tales.” you smirked.

He let out a relieved sigh, worried he had offended you somehow. He nodded at your question, finding the raised blemishes to be quite beautiful against your skin. 

“These,” you said gently moving his fingers across your eye and cheek, “are from a devil. My very short stint fighting in the Blood War gave me these.” 

“And this,” you said tracing over your lips, “from a dog. Bit me when I was 7.”

You moved his hand to trace over the large scar that spanned across your neck, “A near death fight with a Bhaal spawn. Nearly took my head off, thankfully I had quite the healer with me.”

Astarion grimaced at this scar. He couldn’t imagine that kind of pain. Being bitten by Cazador had felt like a shard of icy glass being plunged into his neck. Having your throat sliced open by someone as vicious as a Bhaal spawn, he could imagine the immense fear seeing all the blood seeping from you, your life slipping away slowly. He thanked any gods who were listening for the healer who saved you long ago.

“How old were you?” he whispered.

“For my neck?” you asked, “I was 80, my first time in Baldur’s Gate actually. Quite the welcome.” you chuckled. 

You carried on with your little tour of your body. “This one,” you said, tracing a very faint scar of three little dots on the top of your chest, “I gave to myself. Turns out forks are quite dangerous if you trip with them in your hand.” 

Astarion scoffed, a breathy laugh coming out after. As gifted of a fighter as you are, you are also the most accident prone individual he has ever met. 

“Lets see…” you continued moving his fingers to your upper ribs where a deep, jagged scar lay, “A worshiper of Loviatar “blessed” me with that one.”

“Blessed you?” he said, quirking an eyebrow with a hint of confusion in his eyes.

“Let's just say Loviatar worshipers enjoy all manner of things in the bedroom.” you blushed. “It was truly a blessing though, the knife they so graciously stabbed me with was infused with magic. Makes me harder to kill since I “embraced” Loviatar.” 

Astarion smiled at that one. He had noticed how slashing didn’t seem to have much effect on you in battle, now he knows why.

“This one,” you said, moving his hand to a scar that spanned from your belly button to your hip, “Particularly brutal - a Lolth sworn drow and a drider came after me while I was knocked down. Turns out spider legs are sharp as fuck. And the venom? Lord, I have yet to feel a sting quite like that again.” 

Astarion frowned, he always despised spiders. Now he has even more reason to dislike them.

“This,” you moved his hand to your upper right thigh, “Another self-inflicted accident. Swam in the Black Lake, which is forbidden and for good reason too. Giant eels leave quite the electric burn.” 

“Why were you in a forbidden lake?” he asked, thumbing over the patchy scar.

“Why not?” you winked at him with a smirk.

Gods he loved your rebellious spirit, quite matched his own. Trouble seemed to find you both all too easily and yet, you always managed to make fun out of it. 

“This,” you said as you dramatically slapped his hand to your ass cheek. He felt for a moment before feeling a raised “X” shape. “An arrow of Ilmater from a particularly pissed off dwarf.”

“And, pray tell, why was he pissed off?” he said with a smirk of his own. 

“I may or may not have been trying to steal a particular magical necklace.” you grinned.

Astarion hooked his finger under the golden chain around your neck that always had a slight ethereal glow to it. “I’m assuming you managed to steal said necklace?” he said before tugging on it to pull you into a kiss. 

You giggled when you pulled away as his lips followed yours, you pecked them again before continuing. “Yes. Well worth it though, it prevents me from being poisoned. It’s come in handy more than once.” 

You moved his hand to your knee but not before he gave your ass a final squeeze. You squealed as you leaned into him. He would never get tired of your toothy grin, it was like sunshine to him, he loved to bask in it. 

“This one,” you said as you moved his hand to feel over two parallel scars, “from a mermaid. She tried to drown me so I kicked her off, but not before her scales dug into me.” 

“Why was she trying to drown you?” he asked.

You gave him a sarcastic look, “Have you ever met a mermaid? They don’t need a reason, they do it for sport.” 

Astarion nodded, making a mental note to not venture too far into mermaid infested waters. 

“Kept the scales though! Worth a fortune since they make elixir of water breath.” you said jovially, finding the positive in said situation.

“Elixir of what?” Astarion asked, searching his mind for this unknown elixir. 

“Water breath; you can breathe underwater for quite some time once you drink it. Rather rare though, getting scales off a mermaid is a pretty deadly task.” you shrugged.

“Any more?” Astarion said, his eyes running over all the scars that littered your body. So many stories, so many emotions. 

“Just two…” you said as you raised your foot up so his hand could feel over the top of it. A “Z” shaped scar. “This one is from a Zhentarim, hence the “Z” shape. Got caught trying to break into one of their hideouts. Left me with a lovely little scar to remind me not to try again.” 

Astarion traced the shape, you jerked away at the ticklish feeling. 

“Finally,” you said moving his hand between your legs right where the plush of your thigh meets your groin, “this one is from the best lover I have ever had.” 

Astarion felt for a moment but couldn’t feel anything. He looked up at you confused, “There's no scar here?” he said, waiting for you to guide him to the proper spot.  

“Not yet. I suggest you get to it, fangs.” you smirked at him. 

Astarion gave you a wicked smile when your words clicked in his head, “I’d be honored to add to the collection…” he said as he trailed himself down your body, leaving feverish pecks and little nips as he descended before licking over your thigh and sinking his fangs in. 

You arched your back while you carded your fingers through his white curls. You never wanted to leave this bed, this tent, or him. And luckily, you didn’t have to, not now. Not ever. He would alway be yours, and you his.

------------------------

Naboo's Note:

Hello! :D I am so fucking tired but also very awake right now working this overnight. I fucking love this piece so I hope you all do too! Fun fact, the fork scar is an actual scar I have because I am, in fact, a clumsy bitch lol. This felt very fluffy to me and just generally made me feel better so I hope it was comforting to ya'll as well. Talk soon, thanks for everything!!!!!!!! TTYLXOXOXOXOXO!!!!!!!!!

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #bg3 #writing #bg3 wyll #gale of waterdeep #karlach #lae'zel #isekai #baldursgate #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate fanart #baldurs gate tav #astarion bg3 #bg3 fanart #bg3 tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 spoilers #bg3 art #baldurs gate #tav #baldurs gate 3 astarion #astarion #baulders gate 3

[spooklies]

# Taste - Yan!Mike Schmidt x F!Reader

♡ ... › Everything about you was perfect. Someday, he hopes you see yourself the way he does.

— Words - 600+

♡ ... › Warning(s) - Mentions of a previous drugging. Slight physical harm. Mike’s a bit of a perv.

— A/N - Something short I wrote to get a feel for writing again. Enjoy <3

Mike brushes away the few strands that flowed onto her face and then gently pinches those strands as if he were memorizing the texture and length to memory. He’s learned so much in the time you’ve worked under him yet somehow he had no idea about the way your hair reacted when twirled, or how feathery soft the ends were when pressed against the pads of his fingers. Ingraining the memory of your hair may have been insignificant to most, but to him it was a part of the many reasons why he found himself smitten with you.

There’s so much more to you and it's killing him inside that he’s only able to grasp what’s presented to him on the surface. Like a butterfly hit with a particularly strong breeze your eyelids flutter open. Those beautiful and glossy eyes of yours perceiving him through a sleep-induced haze that you tried to shake away with a few toss and turns of your head. Upon the groan you let slip Mike instinctively grabbed ahold of your chin, keeping your gaze on him and from wondering elsewhere.

“Hey, take it easy, there’s no rush.” As always you were stubborn. He could tell you still weren’t completely deprived of your will by the way you attempted to free your chin. But Mike’s always been someone who’s had to adapt – his willingness to compromise outmatching any of your stubborn fits you still liked to display. “I said, take it easy.” His grip became vice-like and that’s what got you to settle. You still appeared trapped in delusions, an Alice running from the world she brought upon herself.

This was your fault, after all. And much like Alice, you have no one but to blame but yourself. 

“If you move around so much you’ll probably give yourself an even worse headache.” To emphasize his point he began harshly shaking your head back and forth, only regretting it when your attention left him in favor of screwing your eyelids shut. You groaned out a quiet plea, wanting him to stop so he did. “What? Isn’t that what you wanted?” You opted to sniffle out a barely concealed sob instead of speaking. That was fine with him though, he didn’t need you to say anything to understand what you felt or thought about something. He believes he knows you well enough to be able to make these translations himself. “Doesn’t feel so nice, does it?” He flicked your chin away and stood up, feeling a drop of water land on his head and the distant echo of traffic from outside the house. His basement wasn’t the most ideal place for him to house you in but with everything you’ve done it’s the place you’re most deserving of. 

“I’ll be back after work.” He told her apologetically. The constant shifts of emotions he went through was enough to give anyone whiplash. “If Abby tells me you’ve been loud then I won’t hesitate to muzzle you. Is that what you want to happen, Y/n?” At his inquiry you squirmed, shaking your head in denial and then stopping right after. Mike smiled, pleased with how quickly you were adapting. “Yeah, I know you wouldn’t. So let’s not make this drugging thing a habit anymore, okay?” He didn’t like having to do these sorts of things but if his hand was forced then what else was he supposed to do? 

You graced him with one last look of acknowledgement before seemingly drifting back off into your little wonderland. Mike couldn’t help himself and immediately knelt back down, cupping your face in his hand and swiping his thumb against the droplet of water you produced. Mike brought that same thumb to his lips, his tongue wrapping around his fingers and his lungs contracting as he sucked the taste of you off himself. You were perfect. And the way you tasted proved that fact tenfold. 

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere mike schmidt #yandere fnaf #yandere five nights at freddy’s #mike schmidt x reader

[scarletlight-has-issues]

The Vampire's Thrall

Rating: Mature Characters: The Empress, Simon Petrikov, Random unnamed humans Words: 2,327 Trigger warnings: Partial mind-control, blood, self-harm, dehumanization, canon-typical madness and memory loss, canon-atypical violence, major power imbalance, forced kiss, toxic relationships, hurt no comfort, implied noncon if you squint

Summary: A short window into Simon's life while under The Empress' control.

Notes: So I've been completely obsessed with the idea of The Empress and Simon's history since that one stakes episode where they mentioned it and then never brought it up again so I wrote this in a sleep-deprived haze of hyperfixated mania.

Although not explicit, there are some fucked up themes in this, so beware! Don't like, don't read.

Ice ki- no. No, that wasn’t right, it was… it was Simon, right? Yeah. Simon hissed as he cradled the injury he’d sustained. The humans he’d been tasked with capturing had escaped. Truth be told, he hadn’t really been trying, but one of them had still managed to graze his shoulder with a sharp handheld dagger. He could’ve used the magic that soothed and whispered to him constantly, begging him with a temptress’ voice to give in to the power of frost, but, as he’d said, he hadn’t really been trying.

He’d been firm in his goal when he’d set out, just as bloodthirsty and determined as his haughty mistress, but somewhere along the way he’d gotten… lost, confused. So much seemed lost and confused recently, what with that damn whispering. It had been that little girl, hadn’t it? He’d seen a little girl among the refugees fleeing his freezing conquest, her head covering stylized like a black cat. She’d tripped and fallen, scraping her knee bloody. Simon suddenly froze, something snapping inside him. Before he knew what he was doing, he’d surged forward, a sudden pang of… of something welling up in his chest.

The people around him shrieked and fled, tripping over themselves to escape the Ice King’s descent. The little girl screamed and cried in terror, fat globs of tears creating tracks in the grime on her red-flushed face, blood staining the torn green slacks she wore. Unfamiliar words slipped easily past his lips as if they were a song he knew by heart, dropping to his knees in front of her. Are you alright?’s and Here, let me see-’s repeated over and over like a mantra. He’d reached a clawed blue hand forward, to do what he didn’t know, when a wild scream shattered his trance. Pain erupted across his arm as he just barely managed to jerk to the side in time to avoid the blade hitting his throat.

A woman stood in front of him, her chest heaving, a dagger clutched in her hand.

Mama bear.

“GET AWAY FROM HER, YOU DEMON-SYMPATHIZING WIZARD!” She cried. She lunged again, swinging wildly, but Simon had anticipated her strike this time. He blocked it with an icicle summoned quickly to hand, the whispers singing their delight. Without another word, the woman scooped up her daughter and ran after the rest of her settlement.

He dispersed the icicle with a flick of his wrist, dissolving it into a shower of snow in an instant. Something in Simon’s mind screamed to give chase, to follow orders, but something louder and implacable drowned it out. And so he sat, struggling to process what had just happened.

His head hurt, and he screwed his eyes shut to try and block out the conflicting voices. The crown was heavy on his head. He sucked in a breath, held it, and took it off. The whispers reached a level that most would consider screaming, and his hands shook as he gripped the cold metal in his fingers. With a disproportionate amount of effort, he managed to set the thing down in his lap. He let out the breath he’d been holding, tension leeching from his shoulders as his head tilted up towards the treetops above.

Good glob above, what was he going to tell his mistress?

***

Back at The Hive, Simon just barely managed to bite back a hiss of pain as he was forced to his knees in front of The Empress’s throne. The vampire slowly removed the heel of her boot from the small of her thrall’s back. She stalked around him, sapphire eyes scanning his pathetic, groveling form from behind the black curtain of her hair.

“So you’ve failed me again, henchman.” She hissed, lips pulling back in a snarl of displeasure. Her heels clicked on the hard floor and Simon peered over the tops of his cracked glasses to see her boots in front of him.

“I-I did…?” Simon asked weakly. God, his head hurt… His eyes traveled up her long black dress to settle on her face. “I-“

The Empress rolled her eyes, raising a boot and pressing it harshly against his scalp to force his face back to the ground. “Oh shut up.”

She huffed, rubbing at her temples. “Honestly, are trying to infuriate me? Because at this point I’m starting to think you’re doing this on purpose.”

“I-I’ll do better next time!” Simon assured, though he didn’t know what exactly he was supposed to do better at. All he knew was that The Empress was displeased with him, and he couldn’t have that.

His feelings towards her were… confusing. It was as if they were balanced on a constantly shifting sliding scale. One minute he was head over heels for her, worshiping the very ground she walked and completely infatuated with her every move, the next he was terrified of her, eyes darting around to search for an escape route, an overwhelming feeling of being trapped overpowering every other conscious thought.

“I promise, darling!” Simon continued enthusiastically, clasping his hands and pleading. “Whatever it is, I’ll do it!”

“Sure you will.” The Empress replied dryly. She sighed, pacing back and forth as she muttered to herself, ignoring him for the time being. “You have an infuriating knack for breaking my control, even if you don’t seem to realize it… must be that unfortunate curse of yours…”

Simon watched her, encapsulated by her long strides as she walked back and forth.

“While not intentionally disobedient, you deviate from my orders when you encounter emotionally straining stimuli…” She sighed again, giving a small groan. “Golb… I hate getting my hands dirty, but it seems if I want you to be useful, I’ll have to accompany you to make sure you follow orders…”

“Th-that’s great! Maybe we can-“ Simon started, something inside him elated at the prospect of spending more time than he already did with The Empress.

“Silence. I’ve had enough of your blabbering for one day.” She interrupted, before tilting her head back and musing. “Ugh… I don’t feel like breaking into the storage, I’m in the mood for something fresh. And since you failed in your assignment, I think it’s only fair you serve me another way.”

Her gaze finally moved back to him, and the sliding scale tipped back in the other direction, feeling his hands start to shake. He didn’t want to be near her anymore. Now he wanted to run. The Empress saw this and smirked in amusement.

“Get up.” She ordered, and Simon felt his legs responding without him having consciously moved them. He straightened, swallowing hard as she stalked towards him. She paced around him and slowly dragged a finger from the edge of his shoulder to the back of his neck. He shivered involuntarily and felt his body going tense as she leaned in. Vampires weren’t known for their warmth, but since Simon was a wizard of ice and snow, her breath was still hot on the back of his neck in comparison, her hands warm against his freezing skin.

Simon felt the Empress’s arms snake around him from behind and something was pressed into his palm. He started, glancing down to see a familiar ornate dagger. He didn’t need instruction to know what to do with it. After only a moment’s hesitation, Simon tugged up his left sleeve to expose the scars lacing his forearm. He’d used the right last time, and it still needed time to heal. Sucking in a deep breath, he shut his eyes and pressed the blade against the inside of his wrist.

Simon bit down on his cry of pain, and the empress smiled her satisfaction. She licked her lips, slinking around her thrall to take hold of his arm.

“Good little pet.~” She taunted softly before lifting his forearm to her lips.

Simon shuddered at the feeling of her mouth on his wound. Having the blood sucked out of him was never a pleasant feeling, but he’d learned to handle it after the first few times. Still, he bit down on the inside of his cheek and his free hand grasped at the fabric of his trousers to avoid making a sound.

***

The Empress studied his face as she drank. He was such a fascinating character, the curse from that crown of his rendering him helpless and dependent in such a way that made it just too easy to manipulate the poor fool. She had half the mind to remove her spell entirely to test the theory that he’d still obey her without it, but no… the periods where his curse’s effects would lapse and he’d become frantic and hysterical were enough to tell her that the spell was still very necessary for his obedience.

Still, she mused, his varying states and moods were amusing to play with. Sure, he might be endearing and foolish when he acted like a lovesick puppy over her, but she found him much more entertaining like this. She could feel him trembling under her fingers, his pulse quickening with every movement she made. The smell of his fear was intoxicating, she just couldn’t get enough.

***

Simon felt The Empress’ hand snake its way from his waist up his chest and to the side of his neck, thumb pressed lightly against his throat. He struggled to control his breathing. Her lips detached from his arm once she was satisfied, and he went tense as he felt her breath on his neck again, the feeling of her fangs pressed against his cold skin. He half expected her to bite him, despite her insistence that he was more valuable to her like this. The hand on his throat took hold of his bearded chin and forced his head in her direction. He barely had time to comprehend what was happening before her lips were on his.

The sensation was uncomfortable, her fangs sharp against the soft flesh of his mouth. He shuddered unpleasantly as he tasted his own blood on her tongue, coppery and metallic. Part of him felt he should be enjoying this, but most of him just felt surprised and sickened. This was wrong. He didn’t know why but everything about it was wrong. He couldn’t bring himself to push her away, no matter how much he wanted to.

The empress’s warm hand was clenched around his injured wrist, crimson oozing from between her fingers, streaming down his hand, and dripping off his clawed nails to the cold ground below. Her other hand was tangled in his beard, holding his head in place so he couldn’t pull away if he tried. Lightheadedness gave the whole thing a sickening, dreamlike quality, swaying ever so slightly as he stood. After what felt like an uncomfortable eternity to Simon, she released him and drew away. She wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth with an offhanded swipe of her thumb and Simon watched as she licked it clean again.

“Clean yourself up.” She ordered, turning away with a restored air of contempt. “Talk to The Moon if you can’t handle that cut of yours. I have more important things to attend to.”

“…Y-Yes, my empress.” Simon managed to stutter. He paused only a moment to pick his crown up off the ground where it had fallen earlier, before turning and hurrying away. The second he was out of his mistress’ sight, he slumped back against the wall of the hive. His hands were shaking badly, head tilted up towards the sky. He shouldn’t be so affected right now. This was far from the first time he’d experienced something like this. Hell, this was far from the worst thing The Empress had done to him. He dropped his head down and brought his hands up to meet it, his breaths turning sharp and gasping as he struggled to get a hold of himself. His head hurt. God, his head hurt. He couldn’t focus. The Empress was his master, he knew that. He lived to follow her orders, lived to serve her. So why did it feel so wrong? He shouldn’t be afraid of her, he shouldn’t want to run, his skin shouldn’t crawl at the thought of her hands on him. His clawed nails dug into his scalp, tangling in his snow-white hair. Something was wrong. Something was so incredibly wrong and he couldn’t place it, couldn’t seem to figure it out, couldn’t remember-

He only realized he was crying when he felt the wetness against his bloodstained palms. Something was tightening inside his chest, curling like a spring ready to snap under the pressure. It was too much, he couldn’t breathe- His eyes darted around wildly, searching for something, anything. Help, an escape, a friendly face, a way out, anything.

They landed on the crown at his feet.

Clawed blue hands grasped towards it, fumbling the cold metal between white-knuckled fingers. The whispers came back, soothing, comforting in their gentle melodious voice. He needed it. He needed it. Tears rolled down a face contorted in a forced grin as a hysterical laugh slipped from between trembling lips. He pushed the crown back into its rightful place atop his skull, and a sound halfway between a gasp and a sigh pushed out of his throat. The whispers sang in delight, the secrets of ice and snow wrapping him once again in their cold, comforting embrace. The tension leeched from his body, relief washing over him as he sank back into the comfortable arms of madness.

He reached a hand up to touch his face, momentarily puzzled when it came away wet. The liquid quickly froze into tiny, intricate crystals of ice on his fingertips. Had he been crying? Weird. He shrugged it off, smiling and humming to himself as he pushed himself up again. Whatever it had been didn’t matter now. He had to make himself presentable if he wanted to please his mistress.

#simon petrikov #the empress #adventure time #at #fanfic #fantiction #my stuff #scarlet speaks #scarlet writes apparently #ice king #beardy simon #I spent so long on this TvT

[bohemian-nights]

Spring

Word Count: ~6,946

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Nettles

Warnings ⚠️: Spoilers for Fire & Blood; age gap relationship; minor smut

Description: To be used and discarded as if she were no better than a dirty rag. A thing to be possessed and thrown away once she no longer was of use. One can be wanted with great passion and then abandoned by the end of the moon. Tossed aside and on to the next without a thought spared.

AN: This story takes place from 135 AC onward following the events of the Dance. I’ve also aged up Nettles a smidge and basically kept Daemon’s show age for reasons.

There are a couple of words, and there meaning, written in the old tongue of the First Men in ASOIAF, but there are barely any actual translations so I settled on using Gaelic for it 🤷🏽‍♀️

Part 1: The Visitor, Part 2: An Impossible Truth, Part 4: Birth , Chapter 5: Life

————————————-🐑-————————————

136 AC-Mountains of the Moon

With one season coming to a close, another begins. Winter had come and gone. A long one it had been. The end of the season of the dead. Where nothing grows and life stands at a still had come to an end. So the world turns. Spring was awakening. The season of change. A time for new beginnings.  For sunshine. For laughter. For flowers, crops, and bountiful feasts. For a new life. A golden age.

With spring knocking on their door Daemon Targaryen had asked one small woman to marry him. The woman in question would be lying if she had said it had not shocked her. Marriage was a convention she had not expected to embark upon, least of all with a prince. Albeit an exiled one he was a prince and the institution was a foreign concept in every way. A marriage built upon protection, fidelity, and truth was an even more strange concept. A pure-hearted union. Simply for their own pleasure. Without guile or for the purpose of ambition. Not many can say they have undertaken such a journey. 

His intent was murmured into the quiet night at first. While she was sleeping. The verge of sleep mostly. Spoken in Valyrian. Never the common tongue. It was natural in that way. She would expect any less from him. Occasionally he would be so bold as to ask or rather reverently declare while they found themselves in a most intimate position.

“Issa byka ābrazȳrys.” My little wife. If she recalled her Valyrian correctly in her rapturous haze. Breathing into the skin under her ear before he affectionately nipped at the sensitive organ as she rode him. He was always more vocal when she was riding him. Especially as she gripped his white strands  to bring his hot mouth to hers. His thrusts up into her sopping cunny increasing in intensity as she spasmed around him. Bringing them to their peak. 

Nettles did her best to explain it away. Plenty of men say things that they don’t really mean when their blood ran high. Hunger after being deprived of what one adored. Maybe some sentimentality. That’s what it was, passion. Passion had overtaken him. She tried to convince herself that was all that it was. She was sure of it. Until he made hints outside of the cover of darkness or when they were trapped in ardent moments of complete bliss. 

“Your mountain man should have taken better care of you, Netty.” Daemon had huffed out when a certain Vale man left after visiting Sheepstealer to give him what would soon become the dragon's lunch. The old prince's violet eyes had hardened as he stared down Jon's retreating figure. Nettles had to bite her lip to hold back her own laughter.

“I share your bed, my prince.” It was what she had said to Daemon the first time her prince had met Jon. The path from his father's farm to their lodgings was clear enough for a visit. Both men  startled at the other. They hid it poorly. For her sake, each managed to grumble out greetings and offers of friendship, but Nettles did not miss the way both pairs of violet and near-black eyes had been set to stone in cool inspection. 

She planted a kiss on the scars that ran down his neck in placation. “There is no need to be jealous.” He had protested at the accusation. Daemon Targaryen was not jealous. He insisted upon that. He was better than lesser men. Than Jon. Nonetheless, he had leaned into her touch. Seemed to take comfort in it the way Sheepstealer did whenever she paid the wild dragon with affectionate scratches upon his scaly drown hide.  

Jon. That’s how the prospect of their marriage became a reality that she could not easily be dismissed. The vale man’s visits to their home were infrequent, but enough of an occurrence to irritate the Rogue Prince. A tinge of ire whenever Jon momentarily captured her attention, with Daemon's hand on some part of her person mind you, with some trivial tale or made her laugh with a riddle he had come across. Or how Sheepstealer seemed to not mind the attention paid to him by the dark-haired Vale man. Jealousy that a lesser man had not done all as he should. 

Jealousy was the way of men and women. Nettles was not without her own jealousy. Her prince had been gone for five years. There was much trouble that he could get up to, but Daemon had kept to his own bed as well. He had reassured her of it. 

“What reason would I have had to do that?” He had spent most of his time healing from his wounds. In any case, his mind would always turn back to her. He had only wanted one woman even if he only remembered glimpses of her in his recovery. Even in half madness and misery, he had wanted Netty. 

It would not do to slack his desires elsewhere. He could not. Not when he craved one so sweet. There was really no room for envy of phantom women that did not exist Nettles supposed. They belonged to each other in flesh and spirit alike. A tug. A pull. They could not be parted no matter what separated them once they had collided. 

Daemon did not intend to treat her as Jon had. He had Nettles and he let her slip through his fingers. Of course, the Rogue Prince was grateful for that fact. However, Netty deserved to be properly looked after. Cared for. Loved even if not by his own hand. 

Nettles was a proud girl. Quiet as she went about her way. Not making so much noise, but making herself known. She felt things with her whole being. She had a hard time believing herself worthy of unadulterated joy, but she was. 

“I took care of myself, my prince.” She believed she had done a decent job of it. She had always done so. Nettles had taken care of herself for most of her twenty and five years on earth. It was only at Maidenpool that she had rest from minding her own. From constantly worrying about herself. She had Daemon for that. His tender care. Worrying over her. Minding her. 

“You have, but that does not mean that you should have to go about life alone.” He went to cup her cheek. Tracing the scar upon the bridge of her nose with affection. Before placing a kiss on the old wound. “You are more than deserving of being cherished issa ōños.” My light. Cherish her the old prince did. He would always do so. She shouldn’t doubt that. He had given her no reason to, but his actions a moon later gave her pause. 

“Marry me.” The proposal was spoken in the common tongue this time. Walking down a quiet lane on a quest for thistles, flowers, and the like that scattered the glen to decorate their little cottage. Nettles grew a few bushels of lady’s lace and lavender in her garden, but she had also preferred a wild bloom. There was beauty to be found in the unmolested nature of the earth's bounty. 

She had stood frozen in place. Her ears began to ring. She couldn’t move as the pale prince gifted her with a warm smile. Running circles into the hand he had placed in his own. Her breath had left her body and raced back in as he spoke the words again. Taking a gillyflower from her basket to place between her dark coils. “Marry me Netty.”

Netty took a breath in. Briefly closing her eyes to steady herself. Trying to regain some sense of reality. “I do not plan on sending you away.” Ever. Nettles had expressly no intention of such. She valued his companionship. Basked in it too much to do some. She wanted as much time with him as the Gods allowed and then some, but she was not without her hesitance. Her own insecurities making themselves known.

“All the same.” He held fast to her hand. Bringing it to his lips to place a kiss on the back of the soft brown skin. “I want you as my wife for my own pleasure.” Want. Daemon Targaryen was a man full of want. A marriage was no less than his other wants.

Marriage was a thing of dread. The small brown woman had been taught that truth, with great vigor. Rid of the dreams of knights in shining armor rescuing fair maidens in peril before her first bleeding. A thorough education in the underbelly of Driftmark. No one was coming for her. 

She had seen the working girls around her. Seen the men they dealt with. How they neglected their own wives for those girls that worked the docks. How they too would be replaced. The cycle goes around and around like the waning and waxwings of the moon. 

She imagined her own mother. The circumstance of her birth remained a mystery, but there could be no doubt that her mother had been abandoned. No one meant to find themselves in such a disastrous predicament. With child. With no man in sight to claim the babe. To claim her. 

To be used and discarded as if she were no better than a dirty rag. A thing to be possessed and thrown away once she no longer was of use. One can be wanted with great passion and then abandoned by the end of the moon. Tossed aside and then on to the next without a thought spared. 

Dread. Apprehension and dread ensnared her. Voices playing over in her head. Girlhood dreams. Girlhood lost to the ravages of time and anguish. A life of terror and distrust of the unknown good or bad. Of hope for something more. 

Even marriage did not keep a woman safe from harm or heartache. It never had. Nettles was not naive. She knew Daemon. Want.  He wanted her now. He had married someone from want before. The Rogue Prince and his appetites. Marriage had not stopped them before. Had he outgrown them? Was he to do the same with her?

Three wives he had before her. Three. There was also the lady Mysaria. He had taken them all under his cloak of protection. He had taken her under his care and sought to make her his wife. The wife of a man who was capable of such cruelty to those closest to him. 

Her distress was made plain upon her face. In the stiffness of her person who had yet to look the man before her in the eye. Daemon did not miss how long she stood in her panic. Daemon sought to ease her worry. To take hold of the scared girl who had been treated most cruelly and deprived in her youth and coax out his Netty. 

“You won’t be  rid of me, sweet girl.” He had made a promise to her. All those moons ago. Till death do us part. That’s what he wanted. Forces sought them apart. Why could he not be happy with that? Could she be happy with that? The only way that this would end. He intended to die in her bed one way or another. Marriage or no marriage, why not give in to the girl in her? The one who believed in the songs in spite of everything she had seen.

He wanted her in every way. He wanted her. Yes, but it was more than that. He adored her. “I love you Netty.” Unconditional devotion.”I know what you are thinking in that little head of yours, but I want you.” He would die for her. He would live for her. “If you’ll have an old prince, marry me.” His hand never let go of hers. A leap into the dark he was asking for.

Life is not without its risks. It is the sum of it. For if there is no risk there is no reward. Where would she be if she had not claimed Sheepstealer? If she had never Driftmark?  If she had stayed in the madam's manse? Those red dusky rooms echoing the sounds of lust. Where would she be if she had not saved herself? If she had not met Daemon? Been loved by him. Loved him in return. Mayhaps there was truth to be found in risks. In dreams. 

Nettles married him. Let herself slip into the dreams of her girlhood she thought long dead. Dreams before she had been made to realize the world as it was, but that hopeful feeling that had been made true was not something to dread. She shed her fear.

She was more than that. She had to make that promise to herself. Allow herself to be free. Fear could not hold her. Nettles would not be the one to stand in her own way. Allow the death of serenity. Of joy. Of all the promises that the future holds. She would not stop her own happiness. Their happiness. 

It was a small ceremony.  Intimate. Not in a sept in the way of the seven or in the way of the Valyrian custom surrounded by the smoke and ash of Dragonstone or upon Driftmark’s rocky shores. Daemon had already had that. Twice over. Thrice. Nettles would rather not repeat his past unions herself. No, it was entirely something of their own. Something of them and for them. 

An elder chieftain of the Burned Men presided over their nuptials. A man named Corrett. A bear of a man grizzled by battles and the years, but merry when roused. He had taken a liking to Daemon. Naturally after threatening to tie him naked to an ox cart and drag the cart up a mountain until his back was stripped of its flesh if harm should ever come to Nettles when they first met. 

A fate which Daemon said he would gladly meet though he was more than likely to subject himself to Sheepstealer’s wrath in his grief over harming his Netty. Of course, the Nettles thought both men were being overdramatic in the way men often are. It would never come to that. She knew that her soon-to-be husband would throw himself in the line of Sheepstealer’s fire than ever lay a hand upon her.

In the time that he had known him, Corrett had seen the way the Targaryen man doted on the little brown woman who had taken her place among them storming into their life with her dragon. How he’d forgo his own comfort for hers. Their fire witch. The elder man observed him enough to know what he would do for her. 

The ceremony was held at dusk. Under the cover of the dying winter days light. The vows were simple. Exchanged under a great oak tree canopy. Her groom hadn’t strayed his violet gaze from her, she would have blushed if she could. Would have stumbled over her own words if she had not known him better. He held her steady in his warmth. Nettles had not wanted anything else nor had Daemon. Her husband. She was his wife. His wife. Man and wife in the eyes of Gods and men alike. 

The feast afterward was a lively affair. Half the clan had turned up to their glen to wish them well and bless their union. Mead, ale, and a spread befitting if not royalty a lord was prepared in their honor. Merriment and cheer filled the cool early spring night's air. “I ought to take you away before anyone gets any ideas.” To that, she let out a round of belly laughter. She was finding it hard to contain her giddiness.

It was over all too soon and not soon enough. A  host of the men in attendance as well as a few of the ladies called for the bedding. Corretts eldest son reached to pull her away, but Nettles found herself thrown over Daemon’s shoulder. No one was to touch his bride. Least of all to undress her and gaze upon her naked flesh apart from himself. Nettles had been a giggling mess by the time her dragon man had to carry her back into their cottage. 

They hadn’t reached their bedroom before her new husband gently removed the flower crown that the children had gifted her from her dark coils. Her dress was not so lucky. The old prince practically ripped her white frock in two. A fact which Daemon sheepishly apologized for when he saw the state of her gown the next morn. It was a comely thing. Elegant despite its simplicity. Shalla had spent the better part of a moon making it for her. Nettles’ mending abilities had greatly improved, but her dressmaking abilities left much to be desired. 

Besides, the older woman would have never allowed her small friend who she likened to a daughter to make her wedding dress. No, the little bride deserved a suitable dress. Nettles' cheeks were warm when she asked the older woman to mend the frock a fortnight after her nuptials. “Men are the same, lowborn and high alike.” She had let out a cackle while her niece Bess stood horrified at the state of it. Her eyes darted from the ruined dress and back to her friend. 

Daemon took her on their floor in front of the hearth. If she had not insisted that she would like the comfort of their feather bed they would have remained on that mountain of pillows he had pulled from various chairs and settees till the following afternoon. She was completely ravished the next day. Warm as a bundle of barn cats. Exhaustion seeped into her bones in the most delightful way. Leaving her boneless and having to pull Daemon off her whose tongue as well as other parts of him seemed to want to take up a permanent residence between her thighs. 

Everything had been done in the proper way. In the proper order. Albeit unexpected, but Nettles found herself living a life she could not dream of. That she dared not to until it happened to her. Little Netty. For that, she had to let out a little breathless giggle when she caught her reflection or thought of her new life.

And so began the new season of life. As is often found, life begets life. It should have come as no shock to Nettles when she found herself once more in a delicate condition. Four moons into her marriage and she found herself unmistakably with child. A babe that they would soon be welcoming in their little glen. A spring babe. Their babe. 

There had been no denying the signs of the new life growing in her womb or the reasons for such a thing to occur. Nettles had stopped taking moon tea or any other tonic which could have prevented her current circumstance, not a fortnight after they were joined as man and wife. 

Daemon would not be mindful to take precautions. He would have no reason to. It was a woman’s job. Nettles job. She had tried even after ridding herself of her tinctures. Tried pulling herself off him when she had reached her peak only for the man to flip her on her back. “I’ve waited five years for you.” He panted into her ear. “I want all of you. Issa ōños. Issa byka ābrazȳrys.”  My light. My little wife. Her protests died when he reached a hand down to her button to bring her to another peak. She would never deny them their satisfaction. They had earned it. It was hard to be away from him. All of him. Nettles would have that. 

She had no idea what possessed her to do such things when she knew what it could possibly lead to. To continue to do so, but she did. It was a dangerous gamble. Playing with fire. Tempting fate. Her only defense was that surely Daemon could not get her with child. The Gods had blessed them enough for one lifetime. 

The Warrior gave him the strength to fight on. The Stranger saw fit to spare the rogue prince from death. The Maiden kept him for her. Healed him. The Crone's mercy had seen to return him to her. Guiding him towards her.  No doubt convincing the Warrior and the Father that Nettles would have no others except her prince. Sweet little Netty deserved joy. The Gods had done more than their duty. They were to see to others, but it seems the Mother had seen to bless her yet. 

He had fallen from Caraxes. Yes a man could get a woman with his babe at any age and she was young enough, but he had been injured. On the way down he had been pierced by his own dragon's claws. Caraxes talons had gone straight through him. Tearing bone and flesh. It was not possible. Nettles' mistake. Her second chance. Forgetting the impossible seemed to turn into a very real possibility when it came to them.

Nettles had given herself a moment of respite from worry. Letting herself enjoy all that the Gods had gifted her. A babe. It was a dizzying feeling. A happy one. Or it should be. A babe was a joyous gift. When it is wanted. When one has long sought for life to make a home in its mother’s womb,

The babe was wanted. There could be no doubt of the feelings of the expectant mother.  In spite of Nettles' apprehension about her maternal abilities she wanted her babe, but how would Daemon fare hearing such news? Fear. Fear still had its grip upon her. 

He has four children. A little voice crept into her ear once more. Like a snake slithering up her spine to whisper poison that infected her very mind. He has no need for more, you silly girl. Why would he want more? He’s an old man. He wants to live the remainder of his days in peace. With you Nettles. Just with you. This was not the reason why he married you, stupid girl. Life isn’t like a song. You can’t have everything You think like a child! 

Daemon Targaryen may have taken you for a wife, but he does not wish to soil his blood with yours. Bastard blood. The blood of an exotic whore. The blood of whoever’s seed had spilled into her. You are not a child Nettles. You ought to have known better. You ought to have not done what you did. This is your mess. You brought this upon yourself. She had made a mess of her own fate. 

Her future had always been a void. A black pit that Nettles did not want to find the bottom of. Scared of what she would find down there. On the road ahead. She had tried to not let her fear control her, but we can not so easily get rid of our fears. 

Her fear had so long been her enemy and her friend.  Mayhaps she never would. It would cling to her like a second skin. Her first skin. No matter what happened she would wait for it all to come crashing down upon her. The brown skinny dirty orphan girl from Hull would always remain under the well-loved woman. Lurking in the shadows. Filling her with doubt real or imagined. 

“Tis best to tell him lass.” Shalla had warned her when she had lost her balance tending to her garden. The older woman knew the signs. Nettles could not hide from her. She had been with her through that fateful pregnancy and helped her to deliver her boy. She knew her stubborn friend and Nettles knew she was right. It was another fortnight when she was left with no choice, but to tell her husband the truth. 

The hill tribes of Mountains of the Moon celebrated the official return of spring with fervor. The various clans would put aside their differences to come together to bask in the return of the season of plenty. Erecting a makeshift camp in an empty valley in which they would gather in revelry.  Spring was a time for jubilation. After the long brutal winter, there was much to give thanks to the Gods for. 

They had been invited as guests of honor for the equinox festivities. Sheepstealer was supposed to light the pyre for a fire ritual to usher in wonderous bounties, fair weather, and fairer times. The visiting children were looking forward to seeing the brown dragon. As would Sheepstealer who enjoyed their fusing over him. Winter storms had led to irregular visits. It would be a treat for all. Except Daemon nearly forbade their attendance.

“You need to rest Netty.” Her morning sickness had been in full swing and showed no signs of stopping. She had worried him sick. He had thought she had come down with the winter fever. Not being able to stomach eating or even simply standing for too long before she took to their bed. Staying in the confines of their bed chambers for otherwise she found herself easily winded even when not emptying what little she managed to down into her chamber pot. She was far too prone to dizzy spells to do anything but rest, yet still, she tried. Nettles was not one to sit idly by. 

She appreciated her husband's concern for her health, she was in part to blame for it by keeping him in the dark about her growing condition, but she had to hold her ground. Nettles would and could not disappoint the clan that had so graciously welcomed her among them. 

She would not let them down if it was in her power to do so. Nettles had built a life in the Mountains of the Moon for herself. She had her duty. Daemon would not hold her back from it if she was truly up to it. Though they were to go back if not. At the first sign of her feeling unwell. He would not have his little wife over-exert herself. So with that, they climbed upon Sheepstealer’s back and set off. 

They were almost immediately swarmed by children when Sheepstealer landed in a packed valley not a stone's flight away from their glen. Cries of mother could be heard in the old tongue. Máthier. A title of honor that the Burned Men bestowed upon her. They had sought to do the same with her new husband, “Shall we call him athair, máthier?” Father, mother. They questioned. Some with wide eyes others with a slight teasing smirk, waiting for an answer. The man had balked and turned white when Nettles told him its meaning. Dragon Lord was unanimously settled upon instead. Daemon did not seem to mind it. 

 A small dark-haired pale skinny girl who could be no more than seven name days reached out for her. Taking her to change into a dress for the ceremony that she and her friends had diligently made for her. Daemon followed their trail. He refused to part from her side. Watching her like a hawk.

The girl had dragged her across the crowded field with surprising strength. Her nausea was not helped by the brisk pace of their gait and soon she found herself tearing her arm away from the girl's grip to retch out the contents of her stomach, a meager late breakfast of toast, a few mulberries, and some ginger tea, into the grass.  “I’m sorry máthier.” Mother. She had begun to cry. Babbling out apologizes. Believing her to be the cause of her sickness. The girl had to be  carried back to her tent.

Daemon took a hold of her forearm to help her up from the ground. His face held a look of dichotomy. Of part worry and part chastisement upon his pale brow. Nettles knew that he would make them leave. She had broken her end of the bargain, but Shalla arrived from where she stood several feet away before her husband could suggest they fly back home.

“Let’s have a lie-down.” The older woman gave her a small smile while leading the way into a nearby tent. Handing her a cup full of mud-brown liquid once they had situated Nettles. It smelled like the earth. Nearly made her gag. “It’ll soothe your stomach,” Shalla muttered under her breath as she downed the bitter drink. Tutting out that her flying had upset her more, casting a pointed look the young dragon rider's way as she pulled back the leather flap. Leaving the newlyweds alone.

“I’m pregnant,” Nettles spoke barely above a whisper. She could not lie to him. It killed her too. To see the distress she caused him when she could remedy it. It would be a wasted effort to continue on so. She would not be able to hide her condition for much longer. She had not grown much, but it would be a matter of weeks before Daemon himself would know. 

“Then I shall have the pleasure of two of you to contend myself with.” A grin lit up his face. That boyish look she loved took over. Daemon bent down to place a kiss upon her still-flat belly. Resting his head on where their babe lay underneath whispering to him in Valyrian while she brought a hand down to stroke his white strands. Nettles did not know what she had expected, but she should have known he would not be cross with her. Relief flooded through her, if only temporarily. The weight of her inadequacies came back with vengeance. Weighing her down with each passing moon. The days were long and there was plenty of anguish that filled them. 

It was not an easy pregnancy. It was not as the first time. This one took its toll upon her. Her sickness never left her as with her son it had never come. The days left her exhausted. Her belly grew at an alarming weight. Twice that of her son. 

It was not in her husband's actions that consumed her with doubt. No, Daemon had been as the father itself. Daemon seemed more than eager. He had taken to speaking to her belly. To the babe lying underneath her skin. The worry remained because of her own imagination.

“You are more than like having twins lass.” Daemon looked smug when Shalla confirmed their suspicions seven moons into her pregnancy. The man was sure that they were being blessed by the Gods with two babes. Said that Netty had carried as Laena had with Baela and Rhaena. 

The man had been as the Father himself. More than eager at the prospect of their babes. Busying himself with the building of their new home when he had not insisted on waiting upon her hand and foot.  They couldn’t stay in the cottage they currently occupied. The little cottage that Nettles called home for the past five years.  It was big enough for one or two occupants, but it was not fit for growing little ones.  

Jon had volunteered to help along with some of the clan men. The sheepherder's son and Daemon had warmed up to each other. They were on friendly terms now. Jon seemed to enjoy hearing about her husband’s war stories in the Stepstones and the Rogue Prince enjoyed recounting them. They were gone for most of the days on the other side of her glen. Which left Nettles plenty of time to herself when Bess or Shalla were not dropping at odd times. Plenty of time to turn her mind over. To think. Of the past and the future.

She did not like the thought of twins. The expectant mother decidedly did not want twins. Twins. Targaryen twins. Nothing good had come from it. The choices made. Sacrifices. Rejection. Death. 

A son for a son. That was what she had been told when asked. How he justified it. A prince for a prince, The price paid in war. War. They were at war.  They had both survived it. Their paths mayhaps never have crossed without it. Life from the destruction. The carnage of the dance. Separated and then lost. Blood spilled. Those twins had not survived it. Innocent babes they were. Gone before their lives had begun.

Nettles could worry about retribution. That Daemon would pay for his crimes with his head or the rest of his life spent in servitude and penitence with the Night's Watch. That her new stepson would take him away from her so that those twins and all the others who the Rogue Prince had harmed throughout the years would see justice. Perhaps that was what should happen, but it would be a worry wasted. 

Apart from the septa’s and the leptons at both the motherhouse and the septry Daemon spent his recovery, no one outside these mountains and Baela knew he lived. No one could be certain where  Nettles herself flew off to when they last saw her upon Sheepstealer’s back. No one apart from Baela, her family, and the Burned Men knew that they were here together. Their friends and family would not tell a soul who meant them harm where they could be found. They were safe from those ghosts in this life at least. 

Another set of twins plagued her. It was not their fate that haunted her. No, it was their upbringing. Daemon’s twins. Sweet girls they were, but one stood out from that of her sister. Targaryen in looks, but in spirit? To girls could not be so different. In Daemon's eyes, it was easy to see which twin her husband favored. Both were all Valyrian, yet the younger was not Targaryen enough. What would her children be to him with her for a mother? 

“What will you do if the babes look like me?” The chief of her concerns brought to the forefront of her mind along with discomfort. Nettles placed a hand upon her belly soothing the babes within who had taken that moment to make their presence known. They were getting more restless. 

Her stress over matters did not help. She had thought that her labors began last week as she ate lunch with Sheepstealer, who had coiled himself around her in the open field, but they were just false contractions. 

Nettles and her husband sat on opposite ends of the hearth in their front room. She spread out upon the settee with Daemon sitting in the armchair he claimed for his own. Whittling down a piece of wood to create some toy for the babe. A hobby of his he had told her that he took up during his time in the Stepstones whenever he wished to clear his mind. He was putting it to use again. 

At eight moons pregnant that was the way that Nettles spent most of her time. What occupied her days. Sitting. Sitting and fretting. About everything that had happened. About everything that could yet happen. That would. 

“I hope they have your lovely face, Netty.” Her husband continued to fiddle away with his woodwork. Peeling back the layers of the bark in his hand. It was taking on the shape of a dragon. Absent-minded in the way he replied. His violet eyes concentrating on the task at hand  Not sparing her a glance. Fiddling away. 

“Not my face Daemon.” He turned to face her at the sound of his name. She rarely used his given name. Always my prince, or as of late, husband. Only when something upset her did she dare to utter his name from her honey mouth. 

“My hair.” She took a breath. “My eyes.” Her voice began to shake. “My skin.” Dark nearly black hair, brown eyes, brown skin. Decidedly not Valyrian. If there was only me you saw would you love them? Nettles began to worry her lip while she drew circles into her belly feeling a round of kicks and a dull pain that she shrugged off. If they weren’t Valyrian enough for you, would you love them?

Daemon had children. Four children. Four Valyrian children. Of unquestionable Valyrian lineage going back to old Valyria itself. The blood of Old Valyria. Pure Unmolested. What was Nettles to that? 

“They will be my children.”  Daemon put down his woodwork. He looked as if she had struck across his face. The look of quiet contentment on his pale face vanished. The lines that marked his skin deepened.  “My blood flows through their veins.”

“I am not a Targaryen husband.” She shifted slightly. Wincing as another pain went through her. “I’m not Valyrian.” Her children would only be half so. He needed to be reminded of that fact. She sometimes wondered if her husband thought her a dragonseed because she had claimed Sheepstealer in spite of what he said. It was too much to wrap one’s head around. Some Velaryon had fathered her. Or perhaps some Velaryon or even a Targaryen had fathered her mother or her father or her grandsires before her.

Nettles knew she was not one of them. No, she was a bastard from nowhere. Unknown. A question mark. A stain that would blight his blood. That would blight their children’s blood. Polluted. They would not be true Targaryen’s. Something told her that her blood would win out this time. 

“I wouldn’t wish you to be.” Her husband reached out to her. To place a kiss upon her belly which earned him a kick from their babes and put a small smile on his worn face. He meant to continue to kneel before her, but Nettles motioned him to join her on the settee not wanting his knee to give out. Sitting up from her lounging position to make room for him. He was trying to please her. Could see her growing discomfort and wanted to calm her, but her mind was racing. 

“Your children will not be dragonriders.” She thought once more of a silver-haired violet-eyed  girl, freshly arrived in Oldtown. Full of life. Of hope. A young widow, but she would not remain so for long. Rhaena Targaryen. Daemon’s second daughter. Nettles’ youngest stepdaughter now. 

She was set to marry a Hightower. Might’ve already said her vows. Nettles could not say she blamed the girl for her choice in a second husband. She knew the disappointment Rhaena had faced.  A father's disappointment that a young girl who grew up without a mother had to face. How the girl craved his affection, how she had tried to gain it through her various efforts, but always fell short. A dragon short. 

Sheepstealer had yet to lay eggs since she had claimed him. The dragon had never laid eggs as fair as the expectant mother knew. She thought that the warmer weather would do him some good. That it might bring about some change, but it hadn’t. That too might be for the best when she thought of little Laena. The poor dear. She had already been through so much in her young life. What had happened to her was unheard of. 

Her babes in all likelihood would not be blessed with dragons as their elder half-sister had. Only she had gained Morning, a small thing that she could not even ride. They would never even gain such. They would fall short. 

Daemon grabbed her hand. “They will be our children, Netty.” He brought her to him before tucking her under his chin while tracing circles into her back. Placing a kiss atop her dark coils. “I do not care about the rest, issa byka ōños (my little light). I will love them as I love you.” Words were wind. A man could say anything. It was his deeds that revealed the truth. So far when it came to his children his deeds told the true tale. 

He had loved Laena. She had known that. Love did not protect Rhaena from her father's scorn and neglect. She did not know how the Velaryon woman did it. How she could bear it. Love. Daemon loved her. Nettles knew that. It would not protect her children either. 

Daemon’s children. Baela loved him as always. His golden child. He had doted upon her. Had given her most of his affection. Rhaena resented him for his neglect. If Aegon and the recently recovered Viserys were aware of their father's survival they would without question share their sister’s sentiments for the abandonment of their ill-fated mother. What fate awaited her children? A do-over.  A fresh start. Their children. Would he rise to the occasion as he had as a husband to her? Or would he falter? 

Sheepstealers' roar woke her in part from her musings. A friendly one. The one used to greet Shalla, Bess, or some of the hill children though giggling would accompany them. It was not the only thing that had alerted her back to the present moment. Nettles went to stand. She needed a breath of fresh air. To get away. To think, but her babes had other plans. 

She felt it before she saw the evidence of the beginning of her labors. Hiking her dress up to see a stream of fluid dripping down her legs. It was stained pink. Pain. Sharp. Irrefutable. She would have fallen if Daemon had not caught her before she reached their wooden floor. The contractions overtook her. They were too intense for early labor. Her labor was early itself. The babe was not due for another moon and a half. It was wrong. All wrong. 

Ao3 Link:

#daemon x nettles #daemon targaryen x nettles #nettles x daemon #dattles #dettles #detty #daetty #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd fic #daemon targaryen #nettles #hotd #house of the dragon #the rouge prince #nettles f&b #bnhotdfic

[sherl-grey]

For the get to know your fic writer meme: 2, 11 (I don't know if it means of your works but that's what I wanna know), 16, 28, 40 & 65? Sorry I got a lil carried away

hello friend, thanks for the ask!! realized i reblogged this without access to a laptop and had to wait til i had mine again to answer 😂 but here we go! (Also don't apologize, these are fun! Mostly I'm sorry because I can't answer briefly like a normal person, and this response is probably going to take up a lot of space, lol.)

2. Do you plan each chapter ahead or write as you go?

I don't have too many multichapter fics, and I think they've all been done differently, haha. "love don't roam, but occasionally it wanders off" was mostly outlined in advance. "the rose-pond swap" was me messing around at the beginning, but then people read it (lol, how dare people read this) and I frantically tried to plan the rest of it (and we can all see how that went 😂). "the weight of words" has the barest skeleton of an outline just to keep track of the canon timeline, but otherwise is just being made up. "my mind turns your life into folklore" was written on a complete whim, no thoughts head empty just eightrose. (I think we can infer here that planning worked best, but alas, it also appears that I'm bad at that.)

11. Link your three favorite fics right now (I don't know if it means of your works but that's what I wanna know)

😅Desperately going to try to remember what the heck I've written...

gravity like a lunar landing - Twelve is a major challenge to me, and I'm really proud of this because I think I managed to properly explain the way I see him in this one

Barcelona: Where No Doctor Has Gone Before! - Is the plot good? no. However, there are five Doctors, and it was fun, and even if I wish I'd planned it better, I'm fairly pleased with the result.

a more literal method of compartmentalization - I suspect this will always be one of the ones I'm most proud of, in that I knew what story I wanted to tell and somehow I got there? Wrote this in a sleep-deprived haze so no clue how that happened, but I'm glad it did!

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

Technically speaking, a lot. Things I'm actually thinking about writing? Maybe like... 5? 2 are Spotify asks from the frickin 2021 Wrapped game and YES I've started I swear 😂😅 I just got stuck. Various other people/conversations have had me revisiting like 4-5 things I'd jotted down in the past (Eight chameleon arch, a tenrose Bridgerton thing, a sequel to something, an out-of-order thing). Uhh, in non-DW news, I've got a Hellcheer thing I really want to write that's mostly about "right person, wrong timing" angst (with a happy ending because it's me, lol).

28. On average, how much writing do you get done in a day?

Most days, I don't write. When inspiration strikes, anywhere from 500 - 2000 words, probably. On a few rare occasions, I've just cranked out the whole story in one sitting, but I don't generally have time for that nowadays.

40. If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

This is such an interesting question... I've never really even considered this. I think one of the scenes I most consciously decided to try to make pretty is the Woman Wept scene in LDRBOIWO (that is a bad acronym lol), so that could be nice? I'll have to think about this more!

65. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

Honestly, at the moment the thing I'm most hopeful about writing is the Hellcheer thing mentioned in 16. DW-wise, though, I really want to go update all of my WIPs sometime soon, and I want to get at least one of the songfics done--I feel like I'll feel way less guilty about starting new projects if I wrap up some of the outstanding ones.

#ask game #asked and answered #thanks Ace!! #nerdie-faerie #this was fun. haven't done one of these in a long time!

[lonelypond]

""Closer, Closer," Says Love

Nishikino Maki & Umi Sonoda, Love Live, 1K, 1/1

Summary: Maki and Umi talk movies and Nico.

""Closer, Closer," Says Love"

Umi Sonoda’s brisk pace kept Nishikino Maki from dropping into a sleep deprived haze.

“Will your schedule still accommodate viewing Alphaville this Sunday?”

“Sure.” Then Maki hesitated, “Wait, I have to check the joint calendar.”

“Joint calendar?”

“Nico set up a joint calendar for us so everyone she knows in Theatre or RTVF can get headshots without her giving them my number.”

There was silence from Umi, but it was expectant silence.

“Nico liked the headshots I took of her a lot, so her new plan to take over both New York and LA is to have everyone at Northwestern have the” Maki altered her voice slightly, “number one headshot photographer in the universe” take theirs and land more jobs. More NU alums in jobs means more NU networking means Nico gets her EGOT faster.”

Umi blinked, humming. “Impressive strategizing.”

“We’re damn lucky Nico’s not an ancient daimyo demanding we conquer the Loop to grow her collection of theatres.”

“My sword awaits her summons.” Umi chuckled.

Maki paused, “Never say that around Nico. She might just take you seriously.”

“You say that seriously.”

“I mean it seriously. She gets this glint in her eye and all these plans come spilling out and they can start to sound very convincing. It’s too easy to get caught up. She never stops to breathe so you can’t just casually divert the conversation.” Maki smiled, just for a second, “I have tried.”

“She is a very ambitious woman.”

“Yep.”

“I respect that.”

“Me too.” Maki rubbed her chin, “but…”

“But?”

“Nevermind.”

“It sounds” Umi paused. “Serious.”

“I’m banning that word for the rest of … ever.” Maki groaned, “Nico’s like the weather. She has the same effect on everyone. I’m not special.”

“I don’t think that’s true. Not many people take her plans serio…” Umi coughed, “To rephrase, I have spoken to uninformed persons who believe Nico’s impulsiveness means she lacks gravitas, that’s she’s just hastily grasping for whatever the wind blows by.”

“That’s not true. Sure, Nico grabs what life gives her, but she puts in the work. It’s all part of the Nico Plan. Which is on public display. Like a museum exhibit. She wrote it all down. I don’t know when she ever rests.” Maki glared at Umi. “Do people really say that about her?”

Umi had both hands raised in a placating gesture, “I have a different opinion, as do you. And we both know Nico appreciates your support for her efforts at world domination.”

“You make me sound like a villain’s sidekick.”

“Are you more of an investor then?”

Maki shook her head, “She doesn’t take money.”

“Neither do you, I suspect.”

“Not completely accurate. Nico says everybody thinks too cheap is a scam so we decided, 1 hour per person at $100 an hour, but there’s a 50% friend of Nico discount. And all of them manage their own prints, which is most of the expense. And the bother. I have nothing to do with that part.” Maki grinned, “Also, Nico makes me lunch and snacks.”

“Sounds very well organized. Is it impacting your studies?”

“I was already frustrated with classes. And no, I’m being careful with the scheduling.” Maki’s pace slowed, “But sometimes, I…can’t get people out of my head.”

“What do you mean?”

“I get curious about them or rehearse conversations or…” Maki shrugged, “Sometimes, I get tired and talk too much.”

“So you would rather ignore your subjects?”

“No, casual conversations are fine. But with a few of them, there’s this fluttering of connection and it’s aggravating. It's always happened; it's always bothered me. It’s why I started wondering if demisexual was a better label for me.”

“Why is it aggravating?” Umi prompted. Maki didn’t often talk about feelings, but tonight, she seemed to need a friendly ear.

“Because…” Maki frowned, “I suppose it’s like a false clue? It seems to mean something, takes up as much time as a real clue, but then it just kind of blanks.”

“Maybe we should talk about that at the next meeting.” While nearly everyone believed Umi and Maki had met and continued to meet at the Classic Film Club, that was a cover story because neither of them wanted to discuss their involvement in the campus Asexual Alliance. Umi identified as both poly and aromantic and appreciated being able to vent with others who felt like amatonormativity was a treacherous snare pop culture left everywhere.

“Maybe. I’ve started to recognize the signs so it’s easier to deal with. I just shove it in the ‘I’ll be over this in three sleepless nights” corner of my mind.”

Umi laughed, “It still sounds tiring.”

“Only for another week or so. There’s only so many performance majors. Alphaville will be a nice break. Oh, Nico wants to watch with us. I swear she thinks more like a director than an actor. She’s been texting me Goddard facts and quotes every day. Today, she sent me a list of the films he shot on video as suggestions for our next movie night.”

“I didn’t know video was in use that long ago.”

“If it was the 70’s and you were Jean-Luc Goddard, it was.”

“How interesting.”

Maki had picked up her pace again. She was walking Umi home and then stopping by Nico’s dorm after for snacks and video games.

“She is.”

“Please tell her my pen is at her disposal should she wish to experiment on video or film.”

“Your pen being mightier than your sword?” Maki stretched her arms out.

Umi chuckled.

They’d reached Allison Hall, where Umi shared a triple with Kotori Minami and Honoka Kousaka. Umi stopped for a parting exchange. “Thank you for the company, Maki. Please tell Nico I look forward to including her perspective in our movie nights.”

“I’m not offering her your sword or pen though.” Maki scuffed a heel.

Umi nodded, “That is probably best done by me, face to face, with my instrument in hand.”

Maki kickscraped a small pebble at Umi, then nodded, “See you Sunday.”

“Get some sleep, my friend.”

Umi watched Maki wave and walk toward CRC. Whatever relationship Nico and Maki had, Maki definitely seemed to feel a magnetic pull toward the dainty dynamo’s location. Umi wished her luck navigating that tide. Meanwhile, Nico was certainly going to add a refreshing spin to their discussions. A Goddard quote came to Umi’s mind, “Away, away,” says hate. “Closer, closer,” says love.”

A/N: Howdy! Tempted to change the name of the series to something like Muse Makes Movies since really no Goncharov knowledge is necessary. Thanks for stopping by. I'm liking these conversations; I hope you are too.

#NicoMaki mentioned #Nishikino Maki #Sonoda Umi #kotohonoumi implied #college #Asexual spectrum #aromantic #demisxuality #movies #jean-luc goddard #Goncharov Files #But no Goncharov knowledge necessary #cheers #Go U Northwestern #NicoMaki #kotohonoumi

[unravelingthepages]

The Secret History- Reasons I loved it

Reasons I’m sleep deprived today- I stayed up till 2 a.m. finishing the last 200 pages of this book because I was incapable of putting it down. I absolutely blame the book. So, on to reasons why I was incapable of putting it down:

The Secret History by Donna Tartt is a book I am absolutely obsessed with and love. The characters were unlikeable, the vocabulary often required googling and the chapters were very long (I’m talking 100 pages long). But in spite of, or even because, of this, it was addictive. It has the feels of a modern classic and you’re completely immersed in the story to the point where you don’t look up for an entire hour (yes, this happened, please don’t ask).

The Plot

Under the influence of their charismatic classics professor, a group of clever, eccentric misfits at an elite New England college discover a way of thinking and living that is a world away from the humdrum existence of their contemporaries. But when they go beyond the boundaries of normal morality they slip gradually from obsession to corruption and betrayal, and at last- inexorably- into evil.

My thoughts

The starting of this read is intriguing to say the least. It’s foreboding and chilling and leaves you with high hopes. And at no point are you let down.

It’s not a thriller, per se, with sudden shocks and twists, but rather the college experience of a group of people that just so happens to involve the plotting of a murder, completing the deed and its aftermath.

“A month or two before, I would have been appalled at the idea of any murder at all. But that Sunday afternoon, as I actually stood watching one, it seemed the easiest thing in the world.”

This book is highly intellectual (I really hope that didn’t sound posh) simply because it requires you to think a lot. There are constant references to Greek myths and quotes in all sorts of languages that are taught as part of classics- Greek, Latin and such. Conversations about morality and beauty and aesthetics leave you questioning so much.

“There is nothing wrong with the love of Beauty. But Beauty—unless she is wed to something more meaningful—is always superficial.”

Our narrator, or Richard as is his name, is very aware he’s narrating a story, his story, and often reminisces in a way that leaves you dreading what is to come.

“I suppose at one time in my life I might have had any number of stories, but now there is no other. This is the only story I will ever be able to tell.”

“There is foreshadowing and so much to the plot that the layers of the story have layers. There are hierarchies I didn’t even think to question until one of the characters decided to point it out. I think it’s possible for me to do this book justice only after re-reading it multiple times.

This is a story that leaves you immersed in the world of Hampden College, often dark and dreary, chillingly beautiful and compelling and seen through a dream-like haze like the narrator describes himself feeling at one point (he was under the influence of narcotics, but that’s besides the point). Its set in the 1900’s, in New England. There are six main characters that we get intimately familiar with, though we are introduced to a lot more in detail and with multiple interactions.

The characters appeal to you and are so so relatable but also, alternatively, repulsive and abhorrently unlikeable. There is no morally grey here, no morals I suppose, only a lot of practicality.

“It’s a terrible thing, what we did,” said Francis abruptly. “I mean, this man was not Voltaire we killed. But still. It’s a shame. I feel bad about it.” “Well, of course, I do too,” said Henry matter-of-factly. “But not bad enough to want to go to jail for it.” Francis snorted and poured himself another shot of whiskey and drank it straight off. “No,” he said. “Not that bad.”

And that’s another reason this book is itself appealing and haunting. It removes the morals and ideals most humans have and puts you in the mind of this character, who is so adaptable, often influenceable but also very aware of what is going on, sometimes at that very moment and sometimes in hindsight. One who is privy to the knowledge that what is going on is wrong but also somewhat enjoys it.

If I go down this rabbit hole of providing more quotes, I will never emerge back up because frankly, all 600 odd pages of this read are quotable. Most are undeniable truths. The most mundane of things are painted in a specific light, with specific emotions, that reel you in and keep you hooked. Maybe everything being romanticized in the book ties in with the narrator’s fatal flaw?

“Does such a thing as ‘the fatal flaw,’ that showy dark crack running down the middle of life, exist outside literature? I used to think it didn’t. Now I think it does. And I think that mine is this: a morbid longing for the picturesque at all costs.” 

This, precisely, is what makes it such a layered book though. Because frankly, this thought did not even occur to me until writing this review. I think all I’ve accomplished by this post is an incredible desire to re-read The Secret History. I really hope you decide to pick it up too, because this book deserves the world.

If you're planning on purchasing this read, please consider using the following amazon affiliate link to purchase it. It would be at no extra cost to you and would really help me out, thank you!

purchase this read: https://amzn.to/3I9RBFt

“It is is better to know one book intimately than a hundred superficially.” ― Donna Tartt, The Secret History

#book recommendations #book review #book reviews #reading #The Secret History #booklr #bookcommunity

[hazeday]

I am giving 2016 a run for it's money with how many fucking dudes my brain has been able to come up with this year you'd think I'd been experiencing nothing but stress and trauma culminating in the deepest sense of hopelessness I've had for my future since I had a cardiac emergency that has since prevented me from being able to use the treatment that was working before and got sued in 2019 hahahahahahaha. Anyway sorry to all of the fans and subscribers for my erratic and strange behavior as of late, you must understand that once again my ego is splintering in complex ways from the most profound separation of personality complete with days of amnesia to the in between haze of a lack of a central sense of self and instead two different selves who begrudgingly get along at best. And then everything in between, and yet to be totally understood, subject to change at any moment. This almost certainly makes very little sense but I am very sleep deprived and menstruating so I can say anything I want to right now. Uhhhh I think that's all I had. Will keep you all posted on the most interesting developments.

[wallezhang]

9 reasons why you need eyelash extensions

Others say that there is always a reason for everything, but sometimes some things do not need a reason. For example, when I grafted eyelashes for the first time, I never thought of any reason. I just wanted to do eyelashes because I was curious. Of course, the result is very beautiful.

Here are nine reasons you will fall in love with eyelash extensions:

1. Wearing a mask can also look good

An epidemic has made wearing masks a daily habit. Cold air and haze are the bane of winter! Go out with a mask to cover most of the face, even you have a perfect face others cannot see it, but the beauty of the girl always have a way, you see, show the eyelash is enough, this is absolutely the face of the most bright spot.

2. Lighten your makeup bag for summer

Summer is the hot weather, plus makeup will make the skin feel thick, with beautiful eyelashes, no need to make up at any time! You can also pack fewer makeup items and simplify your makeup bag to keep you fresh in summer!

3. Enlarge your eyes and look good even without makeup

With simple eyelash extensions can maintain the beauty effect for 3-4 weeks, during which time girls will no longer have to worry about when taking selfies with their eyes wide open but still not getting the look they want. Can also get rid of the daily rouge gouache layer by layer "wrap" trouble, let the beauty come more natural.

4. Comprehensive waterproof, you can feel free even soak in the Spring or Sauna.

You'll never have to worry about showing your true colors again in winter by meeting up with a good friend for a sweat session, a sauna, or a family trip to a hot spring. As long as the eyelash glue is completely set, it will not only be waterproof, but also not afraid of eyelash loss, so that you can enjoy life.

5. Say goodbye to mascara and dry eyes

In winter, due to dry weather, the mascara applied at the root of eyelashes dries quickly. After the mascara covering the opening of the meibomian gland dries out, blocked foreign body of meibomian gland is formed, which obstructs its secretion function, ending up with dry eye syndrome? With beautiful eyelash extensions, say goodbye to mascara, naturally not afraid of dry eyes!

6. Hold the house at a party

In summer graduation season, a variety of parties have come, this respective show the beauty of the occasion, we cannot lose momentum, beautiful eyelashes can enlarge your eye advantage, let your eyes more spirit!

7. Make your lashes naturally longer, thicker and curler

Prefer longer, curvier eyelashes?？ Instead of using mascara and paste false lashes, it's easier to create proper curl with eyelashes grafted on, and you don't have to worry about flickering lashes. The most important thing is that the process is safe and comfortable, convenient and beautiful, and the more important thing it’s real& nature!

8. Reduce the time it takes to get up early and put on makeup every day to get enough beauty sleep

In the winter, when getting up depends on perseverance, are girls suffering from sleepiness, feeling like they can't get enough sleep? Eyelash extensions could be a blessing, freeing you up to get up in the morning and apply makeup, giving you an extra half an hour of beauty sleep in a warm bed and reducing "sleep deprivation."

 

9. You can still wear contact lenses without worrying about affecting your eyelashes

No matter how beautiful the eyes are and how long the eyelashes are, the frames of the glasses will be blocked by the thick glass. Therefore, the girls who love beauty like to wear contact lenses to highlight their eyes. Eyelash extensions can make your eyes more beautiful, also won't affect the contact lens.

[ener-chi]

Hi! It’s me again :0

I’m interested in an energy/reading healing. In case you forgot my personal info from last time:

Name: Leslie Y

Pronouns: she/her

2 physical features: brown eyes, dark curly hair

Fav memory: my dad taking me out of school early one day to go to work with him :)

My main concern is that I think I’m dealing with energy parasites. My mental health is well managed with medication, professional help, and acupuncture. I was doing pretty well but lately I’ve been finding it hard to sleep and then once I’m asleep, it’s so hard to find the energy to wake up. I feel drained and low most of the time and I also worry a bunch. I’m not treating this as a replacement for anything, I just want to know what’s going on energetically so I can do better self care :)

Thanks a ton!

Hi again!

Your blog name-change threw me off for a bit, but I recognize your name and your energy definitely ((: I think that it's good going into this acknowledging that this isn't replacing any of the other care that you are receiving. But it is definitely nice to have an energetic lookover to cover all of your bases - which is kind of why I provide this service in the first place!

anYWAYS let's jump in:

Leslie Y...

Ah yes... Right off the bat... Her energy does appear to be... Out of wack... Heavy... There are some bags under her eyes... Ya know that heavy feeling that you get when you are sleep deprived... Either by getting too little sleep or not enough... And you wake up... And you're numb at first going about the morning... And it feels like everything is heavy... And... There is this like... Haze... Over your active experience...

Kinda seeing that on you almost...

You give a smile... Even though your energy has been lower... You are still persistent... Resilient... Powering through... Still willing to help others... And you want to... Though recently you've gotten better at saying no... And managing your own energy reserves... You cannot pour from an empty cup...

Okay...Let's go up in energy and take a closer look at things...

Transition...

Vision is a bit foggy at first... Your aura... Just overall... Is dull... Like metal that is tarnished... There is no shine to it... And it does give off a little bit of light... But it's like... Dampened... Which is... Not ideal... All of the colors are there... But weakly... One color is very faint... I'll take a look at your chakras in a bit...

Okay... What else do I see...

Looking more closely at your aura... Or rather... In your aura... Hmm... I don't really see anything like... Big... Floating around or being stuck... I do see like... There are a few... Thoughtforms?? I wouldn't necessarily call it that... But there are a few of those worries that you were speaking of... Bouncing around like the windows screensaver... I see a worry about school... Hrngg very hard to look at it... But something about school... I see bigger worries...

Woah... Back it up... Almost got sucked in there... So there's that bouncing around... I don't really see anything else wrong with your aura energetically... Although I will say this... Gonna go into a bit of biology real quick as a metaphor...

A healthy cell... Its' cell wall/membrane lets things in and out of it. It's very selective as to what goes in and comes out... If it lets the world in, or lets all of it out - it dies. So there are mechanisms blah blah blah...

The point I'm getting at here... Is that your aura... Has like... Completely shut out the outside world... Which... I get... Sometimes when I'm overwhelmed... I tend to shut in and shut down too... But... The problem with this... Is that there are healthy energies that need to come in... And more importantly... There are things in your aura that also need to come out...

So. I'm gonna take a closer look at your chakras, probably gonna do a quick little cleanse on ya and open up your aura a little bit... Clean its' "pores" if you will. Get things flowing...

Alright...

Actually... Let's do that first... Not gonna include all of my notes on that here since that will get a bit tedious ((:

I work on your aura... The outermost layer... And on the inside too... Both sides...

Ahh... It feels... Really inflamed... Erm... What's the word...  I guess inflammation is what I was looking for yeah... So the reiki is going to help dissolve that...

A quick run down of her chakras... Could use a bit of a cleanout... hmmMMM... What is this black thing in your main meridian... Looks like... An eel... Am I seeing this correctly... Bubble... Out it goes... ?? What are you... Are you a parasite?? I don't think so?? I mean what else would it be... Hm... I will ponder on this...

In the meantime... Now to look at your chakras... One of your middle chakras is very faint... I think it's the orange one... Sacral... Yeas... And your root chakra is buffeted by this... Let's get it spinning again... Hmphrngg it feels quite jammed... Force is bad... We will go with it instead...

Okay... This isn't something that I'm going to be able to fix right now... This is caused by something that is like... Stuck in your irl life?? Our outer world is a reflection of our inner world... And vice versa... A blockage in the inner world... Will cause a blockage in the outer world... Sometimes healing the inner will cause the outer to heal... But sometimes you can't heal the inner without healing the outer...

Anywho... I will give it a bit of reiki to loosen things up and soothe, but yeah... It does feel better giving it some of that...

As for the rest of your chakras... A little bit out of balance... Because of your sacral chakra... But all in all doing good!

We check back in on the aura... Oh yeah... The bouncing worries... Gonna give that a bit of reiki to help dissipate that... Try not to engage in unhealthy rumination... And that will help as well...

As for your aura's like... Membrane... Things are starting to flow again... It feels... Quite good... Looks like there is a minor little hole on the left/your right side... Patched that up...

Energy is starting to move out now...

Alright... Closing things up here...

Alright! So a few notes here. First off, I didn't find any parasites. That "eel" thing that I saw... Genuinely don't think that was a parasite. It felt like maybe a physical (energetic but you know what I mean) manifestation of like. Something that needed to be released.

Other than that, I didn't really see anything energetically that would be contributing to your sleep issues. I did get things moving in your aura, so hopefully that helps things clear up and start flowing for you again.

Hmm... Intuition is saying. Lots of rest. And by this, I mean low-intensity activities. Books. Things like that.

I think that's it! Thanks for the request!

Blessings!

#mine #readings #energy reading #energy readings #aura reading #aura readings #psychic reading #psychic readings #auras #chakras #spirituality #witchcraft #witchblr

[heliads]

Falling Asleep/In Love (Part One)

As it turns out, you and your closest friend Draco have a few things in common- first of all, you’re very sleep deprived, and second of all, you always turn to the other for comfort.

masterlist / part two

It is unusual for anyone in Hogwarts given the onerous task of suffering through Professor Binns’ class to be seen with a smile. Everyone knows the stifling atmosphere of the History of Magic lessons, where even the most dedicated of pupils have to try their hardest to avoid falling asleep. Usually, you’d be making a valiant effort amongst the rest to keep your eyelids open, but today, you’re doing the impossible- instead of trying to hold back a yawn, you’re doing your utmost to keep back a laugh.

The reason for this is obvious to you, less so to the others. It’s not that you’re trying to give off the illusion that you’ve gone completely mad, it’s just that the sight beside you is so hard to ignore that it’s fairly difficult to stop yourself from laughing. Look, in what other scenario could you possibly see Draco Malfoy fall asleep on his friend’s shoulder?

The recipient of Draco’s apparently sleep-induced affections is Blaise Zabini, fellow Slytherin, and someone who’s just as confused about this as you are. He looks up from Draco to you, one eyebrow raised as he silently mouths a string of words: “Why is Malfoy lying on my collarbone?” 

This is enough to send you into another flurry of hastily concealed giggles, although it’s not like you truly have to worry about being caught- Professor Binns is dead to the world, literally, and probably wouldn’t notice if you got up and started tap dancing on your desk. That’s why you feel comfortable laughing so hard tears well up in your eyes, especially when Blaise does his best to none-too-gently shove Draco off of his shoulder and onto the desk in front of him.

To his credit, Draco wakes up almost immediately, pulling himself out of the Binns-induced haze with an impressive amount of grace. “What’s happened- is there something we have to do?” For some reason, the sight of Draco now, smile slow and eyes soft, makes your teasing laughter cease. It’s not that this isn’t the first time you’ve seen somebody who’s supposed to be your friend and your friend alone in a new light, it’s just that this one instance is different. Maybe he’s growing on you a little bit.

So, when you murmur hasty excuses about nothing happening and give Blaise a piercing death glare over Draco’s head, full of unsaid warnings about how if he says a thing about Draco falling asleep you’ll feed him to the Giant Squid, it’s purely for your own motivations. Draco looks between the two of you, taking in Blaise, who’s narrowing his eyes in confusion over his impending squid-related death, and you, still doing your best to hide your death glare the second Draco’s gaze turns your way. Finally, Draco shrugs.

“Whatever, you two are being weird enough without having to pay attention.” With that, Draco gives one last unimpressed glance around the classroom, and leans back against his chair. This time, though, his final sleeping position is different, in that now his head is on your shoulder. He still had plenty of time to choose where he ended up before he lost consciousness again, meaning that unlike the accident with Blaise, he-

“He definitely did that on purpose. You know that, right?” You glance over at Blaise, who’s grinning at you victoriously. “Maybe he’s just really fast at falling asleep.” Blaise scoffs. “He’s probably asleep right now and faking it. Trust me, that last move was definitely on purpose.” You give him a look, careful to keep your voice down. “Draco’s stone cold. Did he sleep at all last night?”

Blaise shrugs. “Apparently not. Are you going to wake him or should I?” You glance over at the sleeping boy still nestled against your shoulder. There’s something about the way his platinum blond hair is currently mussed up, something that Draco would usually never allow, and how this is the only time you think you’ve ever seen him truly vulnerable. For once, there isn’t a crease of stress between his brows, or any sign at all that his family’s pressures are getting to him.

You shake your head softly. “No. Let him rest. He needs it.” Blaise gives Draco one last questioning look, then looks back towards the front of the class with an it’s-your-funeral expression. You pay attention for a little longer, too, and when your focus finally meanders back to Draco, you notice that he almost looks like he’s smiling.

Draco wakes up soon after that, once the class is about to end. He doesn’t say a word about it; neither do you. Blaise just raises an eyebrow and doesn’t mention a thing. As you walk out of the room and back towards the Slytherin common room, though, you can’t help but think about what happened. To be honest, you had thought that you had a lock on your feelings for Draco, but then things like this came your way and you were swept under again.

You weren’t supposed to be seeing Draco as anything more than a friend, you knew that. He was the first person you talked to at Hogwarts, the first one to walk with you to class and point out the different stars in the sky. On rainy days, when you didn’t have anything to do and it was too stormy to stray beyond the castle walls, he was the one who stayed with you, looking through the windows together at the hills rolling out like the folds of a tapestry. He told you about his family, you talked about yours. There was no one quite like him, and you don’t know that there ever will be.

That’s why you’re afraid to act on your feelings- what if you ruin your friendship and you’re left with no one at all? There’s a power imbalance around here, certainly- most of the Slytherins revolve around Draco. You suppose you do, too, in a way- he has a certain aura of importance about him, one that seems to cling to whoever is around him. If you spend time with him, you tend to feel pretty important yourself.

However, you didn’t know about his pureblood family or his natural leadership tendencies when you first met Draco. Back then, you two were still just kids with no idea how big and bold and boastful the world could be. When he offered up his friendship, you took it, not because of who he could be one day but because of who he was now. Maybe that’s why he offered it in the first place, before he even heard your last name and evaluated it for ties to an impressive magical family.

You can still remember walking through the Great Hall as a nervous first year, looking with wide eyes at the much taller students seated at the long tables lining the room. You’d leaned over to him as the Sorting began, already anxious about the possibility of losing your newest friend. Draco was sure that he’d be a Slytherin, but what if you weren’t? What if he left you for good, just because of your house?

He’d turned to you then, as if he could sense your fear. “What is it?” You had mulled the question over in your head before answering. “What happens if I’m not a Slytherin? Will you stop talking to me?” Draco had scoffed, the familiar snarky sound present even when he was younger. “Then I’ll find you during the classes, you idiot. That doesn’t matter.” You’d smacked him on the shoulder for calling you an idiot, but you couldn’t hide your relieved smile. From what you know, Draco’s never made a similar promise to anyone else. It seems as if you’re the only exception.

So, if you tell Draco how you truly feel and he shuns you, what do you have then? All of your memories from when he told you that the two of you would always be close, broken apart in an instant. You can’t risk losing him just because your heart had the stupid notion to skip a beat whenever you saw Draco, so you keep your true feelings inside, locked away until they’ll grow dust and hopefully leave you. That hasn’t happened yet, but he hasn’t left you either.

That day is a long day, and the next, and the next. By the end of the week, you’re feeling exhausted, yet due to a steady string of sleepless nights and bad dreams, you can’t quite convince yourself to go to bed any earlier. Tonight, for example, you don’t feel like dragging yourself to your dorm despite the ragged weariness that seems to hang from your every movement, so you take up a residence on one end of a long emerald sofa in front of the fire and get to work on some Transfiguration homework.

Slowly, you watch as the various inhabitants of the Slytherin common room leave for the night, disappearing in bunches of twos and threes to their respective beds. By the time you finish a particularly grueling paragraph of an essay, you realize that you’re the only one left. You have no idea how late it is, but you still don’t move from your spot beside the fire. All you have to do is finish this essay, then you’ll go to bed, you promise yourself.

A few minutes later, footsteps sound from the stairwells twisting off to the boys’ and girls’ dormitories. Seconds later, Draco appears in the common room, walking over to take a seat next to you on the couch. “Are you going to go to bed at any point or stay up late? This is why you’re exhausted, you know.” You consider stabbing him with your quill and decide against it. “I’m just being proactive. I have a lot of homework.”

Draco rolls his eyes. “So do I, and I’m not still camped out here.” You give him a doubtful look. “You’re still here now.” Draco makes a sound of irritation in his throat. “I’m here because you’re here. No other reason.” You grin. “So you’re checking in on me? How touching.” You’re expecting Draco’s answering smack to the arm, and are able to dodge away from it gleefully.

However, you weren’t expecting his counterattack, which was to snatch away your essay parchment before you could grab it back. You reach for it, but Draco holds it just beyond your grasping fingertips. “Give it back!” Draco just shakes his head. “Rest for five minutes and I will. This is for your greater good.” You give him a dour look. “Why can’t you just stop caring about my health? This is very inefficient.” Draco smirks, unaffected. “This is because we’re friends and it would be very inefficient if you ended up in the hospital wing because of sleep deprivation. Lie down for five minutes and I’ll give you back your parchment.”

You glare over at him, although you can’t quite put any real feelings of unhappiness behind the expression. Truth be told, it is rather late at night, and you’re not sure that you would entirely mind a chance to shut your eyes, even if you’re really  supposed to be doing your homework. So, you pretend to resist for one more moment, then sigh dramatically. “Fine, you impossible boy. I’m resting.”

Draco shakes his head again. “Lie down. You’re just sitting there in the hopes that I’ll let my guard down and you can grab your parchment again.” You make a face at him. “Stop knowing me so well, it’s mean.” Draco laughs, then wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you so you’re lying down with your head in his lap. “This is a forced rest session. There’s nothing you can do about it.” You go to protest, and then his hand absentmindedly drifts to your hair, carding through it in lazy motions. Something about it feels so good that your eyelids drift shut of their own accord. “Just five minutes. No more.” You can practically hear Draco’s smirk. “Of course.”

You’re not sure that you entirely fell asleep, but drifted in and out of consciousness, unable to discern more than the faint pattern of firelight against your eyelids and the calming sensation of Draco’s fingers weaving through your hair. It’s just so comfortable here, lying against him, that even when you’re sure that five minutes have come and gone, you don’t entirely feel like moving again. Draco apparently feels the same, because he stays as well.

Maybe you do truly fall asleep after a while, because you’re roused by the gentle sensation of someone’s arms wrapping around you, carrying you up stairs and around corners. From the slitted view of your half-opened eyes, you can tell that you’re being taken to the girls’ dorms. That makes no sense, because you swear that boys weren’t supposed to be able to get up the girls’ stairs, but apparently they’ve made an exception for Draco.

He carries you to your bed, gently pulling the blankets around you. You’re still caught up in the last vestiges of sleep, which is why your tongue is still leadened and unable to utter a single word of gratitude. Draco steps away, then presses a kiss to your forehead. “Go to sleep, Y/N.” A pause, then a few more words, rushed in the quiet and forgiving darkness. “I love you.” 

You want to say something, to tell him that you love him too, but your eyelids are so heavy and your lips remain blissfully silent. Draco’s hand smooths your hair away from your forehead, and then he leaves. You lie there for a moment, letting the shadows of the night carry you away to sleep. He loves you. What a thought to keep.

harry potter tag list: girl of my dreams @underc0vercryptid​, @cameronsails​, @chaoticgirl04​, @aleksanderwh0r3​

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy oneshot #harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter oneshot #harry potter draco #harry potter draco imagines #harry potter draco x reader #harry potter draco oneshot #draco #draco imagines #draco x reader #draco oneshot

[kiritella]

Stunt Double

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Words: 4.6 k

Request: (@tom-hlover) Bucky X non avenger shy reader where reader is a new lab assistant and was a stuntwoman before and never stated it in her resume and surprised the team when she got in action when they were attacked in the tower. For the reader, if possible, introvert, short hair, the type who does not initiate conversations with strangers but when needed can speak in front of people (for presentations) and when you get to know the reader, she is quite bubbly and is comfortable in being weird?

Warnings: mentions of blood, shooting, stabbing (nothing too graphic), attack, mentions of death. IT IS MOSTLY FLUFF!!!

----

It was too quiet.

You cautiously stepped farther into the engineering lab as the unusual silence prolonged, “Tony?” No voice returned but your own as it echoed off the walls, but as you delved deeper into the room, the sight of Tony Stark hunched over his desk made you sigh a breath of relief. A snore broke the silence and Tony shuffled a little in his seat, but he remained lost to the conscious world. A soft smile coated your lips as you grabbed the blanket from off the back of one of the chairs and tossed it over his shoulders, allowing the man to get some severely needed sleep.

Tony had probably been in there the whole night, you presumed as you watched the morning routine of New York bustle in the streets below Stark Tower. The rising sun was casting a golden reflection on the newly snowed landscape, and the buildings were almost picturesque in the frozen atmosphere. Frost collected on the windows, and your breath fanned against the glass in a cloud, fogging up the image. With a sigh, you turned from the view, taking a sip of the hot coffee in your hands as you approached your workbench, setting your bag down beside your chair.

The computer system hummed to life as you switched on the device and soon a blue holosphere lit up around you, presenting a cascade of folders of your latest projects. Many of them had yet to reach completion, mostly just half-hearted specs when you were high on caffeine and sleep deprivation, but one day you would finish them. On your own time, most likely. Tony recently had you working on something of a bit more substance than what you usually do. There was something about this project that had you excited though. It was tiresome, and it had taken what seemed like an eternity, but it was nearly complete, and with it, it could change so much for the Avengers. It was exhilarating to have created something so powerful and meaningful, something that would have an impact. It was different from your last job, which didn’t give that spark of satisfaction when it was nearly complete. Working as an actor stunt-double had its admiration and qualities, but this, you felt, was where you belonged.

Opening the desk drawer, you pulled out a few bobby pins along with the holo-manipulator bracelets, and only after pinning your short hair back out of your eyes did you begin to work. Music played in your headphones as the morning grew later and within the hour, the lab doors opened once again to admit Bruce into the room. He chuckled as he passed Tony’s desk, the owner of whom was still sprawled out in a deep sleep, then nodded a good morning to you. With a soft smile, you whispered a cheerful good morning. It was still strange working with them, despite it having been several months now, and you weren’t sure if the high of being around them was going to leave any time soon. The high or the consequences.

Bruce was always kind enough, and Tony added a little personality to the lab, so it was never uninteresting, but there were also outside influences that made the job more difficult. Reporters, who you were always used to, shifted gears when you switched professions. Everyone wanted to know what the latest and greatest Stark technology was going to be, and people began to get more heated in their questions and methods. Things had gotten out of control more recently when the project you were currently working on got leaked to the public. It wasn’t the whole project, thankfully, however it was enough to cause some suspicion and enough eyes to turn in your direction that things began getting dangerous. Stark didn’t seem to mind too much until you were attacked getting into your apartment one night. After that, he became more cautious, offered for you to live in the Tower until the project was over and to help you find a new home after. Security was tightened, especially around the labs, and no one was allowed into the lower levels except authorized personnel. These were the things that came with the job, you supposed. Besides, it wasn’t like it was the worst thing in the world to be living in a multi-billion-dollar corporation in your own flat with a gym downstairs, completely free of rent, and with a five-minute journey to your workplace. Yeah, most certainly not the worst thing in the world.

---

You were about to resign yourself to a typical and uneventful lunch break consisting of eating at your work bench while pushing numbers for your project when Bucky barged in through the lab doors. His easy smile relaxed the tension in your posture and infected its way over to you.

“You look like shit,” Bucky said, tossing a bag of something smelling absolutely divine in front of you as he propped himself up on your desk, leaning over it with a teasing glimmer in his eyes. You laughed, a chuckle-snort sort of thing as you reclined back in your chair.

“Well, thank you. Should I take that as a complement?”

“No. You should take that as a ‘get the hell out of your office’,” he said, “And you’re in luck, because I brought lunch and we’re gonna eat it somewhere that is not here.”

You rolled your eyes, closing and locking up the holosphere and laptop. “Jerk.”

“Workaholic.”

“Workaholic,” you mocked in scrutiny, scrunching up your nose in defiance. “I am not a workaholic,” you pressed, snatching the food Bucky brought from off the desk as you followed him out the door. “I’ll have you know I slept five full hours last night.”

“Oh~~” Bucky teased with facade impressiveness, “Five whole hours. I slept nine.”

“Showoff.”

“Zombie.”

“I’m just so close to finishing the Achilles Heel project,” you said, laughing as you pressed for the elevator, scanning your ID on the screen. “Then I can sleep, and get my own place, and relax for a little while.”

“Oof, so ready to just escape this prison to be on your own huh?”

“Okay, maybe not too ready, I mean, there are some perks to being around more,” you said, nudging him in the side and he chuckled.

“Yeah, well I am decent company.”

“I was talking about the showers, but yeah, I guess you are a bonus too,” you teased, and Bucky gasped.

“Fine, I see how it is. I’ll just take this,” he said, grabbing the food bag from your hands as the elevator doors opened and he backed out onto the abandoned floor.

“Wait I—I didn’t mean that,” you said, jumping after him.

“Oh, no, I’m going to eat by myself now. Go on,” he said shewing you away as you came at him, trying to grab the food. “Go scurry back to your dreary little office and punch some numbers while stuffing your face with last night’s leftovers.”

“Bucky,” you whined through a laugh, “I’m sorry. You are most certainly a very big bonus to living at work.”

“Nope. You’re only here for the food,” he persisted, but his beaming smile broke through his act and held the food up above his head. You glared at him as you pushed closer to him, chests brushing up against each other as you reached up on your tippy toes trying to grab the bag.

“I. Am. Not.”

Bucky chuckled, wrapping his free arm around your waist as your balance began to waver, pulling you tighter against him as his lips brushed across your ear, “Really? Because it seems like that’s the only thing on your mind.”

Your body froze as you realized your proximity, his arm snug around your waist, his breath fanning against your ear and neck, the gentle rise and fall of his chest against yours. Slowly, your hand fell back down to his shoulder, fingers trailing to his chest as he angled up to meet your eyes. There was laughter in them, blissful freedom in the dip of his smile and damn, that was beautiful. To say you were in a romantic relationship would have been a slight misconception. The feelings were no secret, but you remained behind the line of friends, however as his eyes met yours, hardly a hair’s breadth apart, you began to wonder where that line was in all the haze.

“It’s not the only thing on my mind,” you whispered in a soft chuckle, a shy smile. Your heart flipped in your chest as his gaze flicked to your lips, hesitant and unsure, and heat tickled up your cheeks.

“Yeah? Had me fooled,” he said as he tilted closer, the brush of his nose along your cheek, and you remembered, friends don’t do this. But then again, when have either of you been wholy and truly just friends? His gravity pulled you in, the earth to his sun and a moth to his flame. It was a force of two strings being tied together, red scarlet between your chests, binding you to each other. It wound tighter as you sought each other, but as his lips barely brushed your own, Bucky’s phone blared in the empty hallway and the string snapped. Your eyes shot open as you both jerked in surprise, pulling back, but remaining frozen in time, staring, and searching. His gaze held an ounce of disappointment as he slowly released his grip around your waist. His eyes followed you even when you could no longer bear their intensity, the fire burning in them reaching out to consume you. Turning aside as he answered his phone, you grabbed the food from his hand, motioning to the office you usually ate in and he nodded.

When the door shut behind you, you gasped for breath to steady your raging, wild heart, steadying yourself onto the sheet-covered couch. A soft laugh bubbled from your chest as you replayed the moment over and over, your fingers pressed to your lips to conceal the smile breaking through, but it still insisted on being seen. As emotions swirled in you, you began to unload the bag Bucky brought, pulling out buckets of Chinese food and set them on the table.

“That was Sam,” Bucky started quietly as he entered the room. “He got a lead on the extremist group I was telling you about…”

You nodded, but when he didn’t move from his spot at the door, you rolled your eyes, waving him over to sit beside you. “Get over here so we can eat before it gets cold,” you said, a teasing glimmer in your tone, and a smile peaking on your lips. A sigh left him, relieving the pressure in his lungs no doubt as he came and sat beside you, picking up a box of orange chicken.

“What’s the lead?”

“Just an informant…It looks a little shady, but it’s all we’ve gotten in a while, so we don’t want to risk leaving it alone.”

“When are you heading out?”

“Tomorrow evening. Apparently, the guy doesn’t want to risk being seen in the daylight or in town, so he’s meeting us just outside the city after dark.”

“It certainly sounds weird,” you chuckled, but then silence overtook the room, creeping in from the cracks of unspoken words and pushing as the tension thickened. And when the pressure rose, it crushed your heart, and so you spoke, “Hey, Buck?” and still, you froze again, but he understood the question in the air, in your eyes that refused to meet his. Bucky’s fingers reached across the little space between you, taking your hand into his own and brought them to his lips, caressing them with a kiss.

A sigh escaped you as you relaxed. His hand released yours and wrapped around your shoulders, encouraging you to lean back into the couch and rest your head against him. As you fell into his embrace, the tension eased.

A gentle kiss was pressed to your forehead before he spoke, “We both saw this coming for a while now…”

“Yeah, well…I guess we never really were just friends. There was always something else.”

Bucky snorted, “Like when you were drunk and told me one day you were going to jump my—”

You screeched, shoving your hand over his face, “Why did you bring that up?! You were not supposed to bring that up ever,” you shouted, slapping his chest as he laughed, “I finally burned that from my memory!”

“I didn’t realize you were such a lightweight,” he laughed.

“I don’t drink that often, so of course I’m a lightweight.”

Bucky could only shake his head, press a kiss to your temple, and pull you closer. “How about when I get back from the job, finish all the paperwork and shit, the next night I’ll take you out?” he mused, “A proper date, just the two of us—”

“I’d hope it’s just us,” you joked and he laughed, knocking you in the shoulder with his knuckles.

“Shhh, don’t interrupt, I’m trying to be sweet.”

“Oh okay, please continue…”

“Just the two of us somewhere nice, but not too quiet so we don’t get awkward, and we can talk about everything…”

“Sounds perfect,” you said, craning your chin up to meet his eyes and smiled.

~~~

There was something in the air the next evening. It was thick enough to choke you, and the shadows lingered on the walls a little too long only to be cast away sharply. The moon reflected off the pale white walls in the eerie silence and cast a frozen-like nature around the room. You should have gone up to your apartment hours ago, but with the inspiration and drive to finish your project, sleep evaded you. Besides, the coffee helped.

Music streamed from the speakers, but it wasn’t enough to drive out the anxiety welling in your stomach. Since the attack at your apartment, being alone had bothered you, left an uncomfortable feeling crawling on your skin and it didn’t seem to want to leave. Instead, the anxiety built up until you were jumping at every noise, every shift of the shadows in the room. Bucky’s presence or voice had always helped, but he was still out with Sam checking in on the extremist group informant.

When you first heard the popping, you were certain it was your mind playing tricks on you. It wasn’t until they got much louder did you pause the music.

“Tony?” You called out, “Bruce?” You thought they had gone home for the night. Pepper had dragged Tony out about two hours ago, and Bruce had dinner plans with Natasha so he left early to get ready. There shouldn’t have been anyone but the night shift there, but as a high pitch scream echoed and the laboratory's glass wall shattered, realization hit you ten fold. You hit the floor as you dropped, a scream dying on your lips as you scrambled to get under your desk. People marched into the room, several by the sound of the boots on the crushed glass.

“Secure,” a voice said, feminine and cold.

“Find Achilles Heel, then wipe the system. You’ve got six minutes before the security system comes back online.”

You shook under your desk, heart beating erratically, the holosphere containing your Achilles Heel program right above you, and if you could just—

A loud crash of tools had you jumping out of your skin and your head rammed into the top of your desk, and you froze just like the rest of the room. The silence echoed, and you swore your breathing was too loud, your heartbeat bouncing off the walls as loud as a train. A few words, then footsteps approached, glass crunching under their feet until their boots were directly in front of you. Your teeth dug into your lip as you fumbled the pocketknife from your pocket, only a second to spare as the person reached under the desk and seized your ankle. A sharp yank and you were pulled out with a scream, but the smirk on the woman’s face sunk as you barreled the knife into the back of her foot, straight for her Achilles tendon. As she began to drop, you twisted your hips, braced your leg up and kicked her throat. Not what you were aiming for, but that works.

She collapsed to the ground, choking and gasping for air, but more footsteps pounded toward you and when you looked out from the side of the desk, two men appeared and you were staring down the barrel of a gun. Instinct took over and you knocked the handgun from your face, grasping his wrist, spinning as you stood until his arm was twisted backward and using your back for the brace, rolled him over your shoulder. A distinct pop told of his displaced arm. Or a broken one, you weren’t sure.

A gun went off, and you jumped out of your skin as the breeze of the bullet swept across your cheek. Screeching as the soldier grabbed your arm, cursing an absurd vocabulary list at you, the palm of your hand shot to his nose, and to put it lightly, his list of obscenities increased dramatically.

“Son of a Bitch,” he shouted as blood trickled out of his broken nose, tears forming in the edges of his eyes as they began to water.

“So I’ve been told,” you said as you struck his throat and he began to choke, but as you delivered the final blow to a place the sun didn't shine very often, the cock of another gun set you frozen in place. Across the room, the last soldier stood with a semi-automatic, a bullet with your name ready in the chamber and your breathing stopped.

“We only came for your program, Y.n,” the man sneered, “But I’ve really got a mind to put you six feet under now.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that was peaking on your lips, though you couldn’t even begin to fathom its reason for existing. “What do you want it for?”

The man chuckled, “Who wouldn’t want a program that could tell them the weakness in any building? Given the right specifications of course.”

You shook your head, an idea sparked, but the warmth of the trails of blood on your fingers made you sick. The sound of the man’s shoulder popping out of place from earlier is ingrained in your ears. The feeling of crushing someone’s windpipe, breaking their nose is still searing your skin. It was agonizing.

“Where’s Achilles heel?” he asked, his patience for your antics ran out, and he raised his gun, aim centered on your chest. You turned back to your desk, your hands trembling as the little holosphere sat daintily there on the wood. Your projects, your life, everything you’ve worked for in the last several months. It held your secrets, your future, everything you were striving to create, all right there in that little damned box. Reaching for it, it was heavier than you remembered. You supposed it was the consequences that was weighing it down. Or maybe it was your life.

The woman from earlier was out cold on the floor, but her gun was still at her feet. As your breath shook, you gripped the sphere in your hands and turned back to the last man standing. You waved it in the air, and he laughed.

“Thank you. You’ve been of great service,” he said, lifting his gun and as he pulled the trigger, you dropped to the floor, hands scrambling for the woman’s gun and as the man cursed, he ran for you. The second he came into view, you fired. The jerk of the gun burned your wrists, and something snapped, but you shot again, and the look of pure surprise on his face was enough to make you puke. He fell to his knees and onto his side, blood seeping from his shoulder and stomach. Your hands trembled as you scampered back, bile on your tongue as you watched in horror.

The sound of your name died in the echo of the room, the panic in the voice, the rushing feet and the sound of glass being crushed. Everything faded out except for the man in front of you and the fear etching into his eyes. You were paralyzed to watch. When another hand gripped your shoulder from behind, you screamed, tossing your hands back and clawing and scratching at their face until both your arms were seized and you were forced to see your attacker.

Bucky sat there, his hands holding your arms as his eyes searched you wildly, and you stilled. Your breaths were ragged and sharp, but his cerulean blue eyes were much softer than you remembered, but that could have been the tears welling in the corners. His lips moved as he spoke, but no sounds hit your ears. Everything was drowned in a ringing ocean of nothing, but when he pulled you against his chest and lifted you up, faded whispers broke through.

“You’re gonna be okay...I’ve got you...It’s alright…” It was all chopped and scattered, but it was still his voice. It was James. The lights faded in and out as he carried you out of the room and down the hall. Your vision blurred, but even in your disorientation, you saw them. A night guard sat motionless on the floor, another further down, and eventually you couldn’t bear to watch and hid yourself in James's neck. The next thing you saw was the med bay as Bucky placed you on one of the beds and a doctor came rushing over. The look of pure fear in Bucky’s eyes as you remained motionless on the bed struck straight to your heart before everything went dark.

~~~

When you woke, Bucky sat on the edge of your hospital bed, your hand in his as he traced gentle patterns into your palm. “James?”

Bucky’s eyes snapped to yours, and a smile broke through, “Hey sleepy head. How’re you feeling?”

“A little weird, but okay,” you mumbled as you say up with Bucky’s help. It took a moment before everything came flooding back to you, and the blood drained from your face. “H-how long was I out?”

“Just a little less than an hour. The shock pulled you under,” he said. In a moment of silence, his fingers traced your cheek, curving along your skin until he cupped your face. His breath shook as he leaned in and pressed his lips to your forehead, then another kiss to your temple, another to your cheek, and you leaned into his touch, your hands raising to hold his. Your wrist was bandaged with gauze, and it hurt to move, but still, you melted in his touch. His lips brushed against yours, tantalizing and soft, a peck, a promise, a future held with the love in his chest, shown with his lips upon yours. I love you. I'm glad you're safe. You scared me. I love you. Unspoken words were passed from his lips and seared onto yours with a single peck, and it made you realize just how infinite he was.

“When we got here and the lab was broken into, I —” he said, pressing his forehead to yours, but his voice cracked and you softened.

“I’m alright,” you whispered, “I think, anyway,” you added with a soft chuckle.

“Doctor gave you a clean bill of health for the most part,” he said, pulling back. “Fractured wrist, small cut on your cheek, a little bruising. Nothing too bad.”

You nodded, but a rock dropped in your stomach when you recalled the events. “The man I shot…” you whispered, “Is—is he…?”

“He’s alive,” Bucky said, a sneer in his voice as he held your hands, “They all are.”

You sighed in relief. A life on your head wasn’t a weight you were sure you could bear. However, as Bucky began to speak, the door opened and in came Tony, Bruce with Nat, and followed by Sam.

“Since when can you fight?” Tony asked, a light smile in his voice after he saw that you were okay. “I don’t remember martial arts being one of your talents,” he joked, holding a tablet with the camera footage of the lab.

You shrugged, a smile peaking on your lips, “I was an actress before I came here. Stunt-double for some action movies. I had some training.”

Sam perked up, “What?! An actress?”

You laughed at his confusion and awe, “Yes.”

“That was not on your resume,” Tony added.

“I wanted to be taken seriously!” you defended, “I figured it wasn’t important to add acting to a resume I was sending to Stark Industries.”

“Okay, fair, but look at this,” Tony said, holding the tablet for you and Bucky to see the video.

Bucky hesitated, turning it from you, “I don’t think that’s—”

“No, I wanna see, it’s alright,” you said, and Bucky played the video. It shocked you to watch it over again, the scene unfolding from a safe distance and with people you trusted. What took you by surprise though, was how the entire event unfolded in a matter of a few minutes. You were swift on camera, quick and unflinching, completely unlike what you felt in the moment. It had lasted an eternity then, fear capturing every muscle and resisting every movement.

“I mean look at that,” Tony praised as you took down the third guy. You pushed the tablet away before you got to the last part, and the others said nothing to oppose. The video was stopped and the others teased you.

“I thought you were just brains, but damn,” Sam said, “You’ve got tricks up your sleeves.”

“Didn’t feel like it in the moment,” you chuckled shyly, and Nat stepped up.

“It never does, not in situations like that. But running on pure instinct with what you knew, that was pretty awesome. We’re all just glad you’re okay though.”

You smiled and the others relaxed on their praise and asked for your condition. Bucky answered with ease as you relaxed back in your bed. The questions all seemed endless, but eventually, they all left to let you rest, and with a clear from the doctor, Bucky walked you back to your apartment upstairs.

“So, an actress, huh?” Bucky said and you laughed.

“Yeah,” you said, brushing your short hair in the mirror above your dresser as Bucky sat on your bed, watching from a distance. “I doubled down in homework while I went to college. It was an accident really. A promotion here, a YouTube video there, next thing you know I’ve got a call and I was on stage performing. I never quit school though.”

“You’re just one wild mystery,” he smiled and you walked over to the bed and sat beside him, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Intriguing, I hope.”

“Always,” he said.

A heavy silence filled the room, and you sank further against him. His fingers brushed along your hand as he took it to rest on his thigh. “I’m gonna teach you some more offensive attacks though. I can’t...” he said and his breathing wavered slightly, “I can’t go through that again.”

You nodded, nuzzling his shoulder, sighing heavily. “Could you—could you stay with me tonight? It can be just until I fall asleep, but I don’t think I can be alone right now.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, turning to kiss the top of your head.

“Promise?”

“Always.”

———————————

Forever Tags: [Open]

@herecomesthewriterwitch @thelovelydreamer17 @snarky--starky @bugsbucky @rebekahdawkins @uri-bowie-mercury @xsheaxxstilinski @thatskindawitchy

Strikethroughs means your tag isn’t working, sorry!

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader protective #bucky x y/n #bucky x f!reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader angst #bucky x reader soft #bucky x reader hurt #bucky x hurt!reader #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky fluff #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #james x reader #james barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky angst #bucky soft #soft!bucky #protective!bucky #protective!bucky x reader #scared!bucky #worried!bucky #scared!bucky x reader #worried!bucky x reader

[revengeisourlullaby]

If I Never Knew You Pt.3

Pt. 1    Pt.2   Pt. 3   Pt.4   Pt.5   Pt.6

Warnings: 18+, smut in this chapter, unprotected sex, (some dom/sub themes, cunnilingus, squirting, slight breeding/impreg language, creampie, cumplay), some fluffiness follows the smut, secret relationship, angst

a/n: Part 3! This is the smut chapter. This is one of the longer ones. I hope this is meeting everyones expectations from what the first chapter had given off. Very excited to share the rest. As always requests/asks are open! :)

Word count. 3.7K

You were awakened with a light knock on the other side of Loki’s chamber door. You kept your eyes closed not wanting to have to face any conflict fresh out of sleep. Remaining in your same position you heard Thor’s voice informing Loki to feel free to make his way to the dining hall. You kept still, wanting to hear the entire conversation without any disruptions or derailings of what was meant to be said. 

“Who's the young lady between your legs, brother?”

“One I’m thinking of marrying. The only issue is her parents' blessing, something she’s yet to ask. The right time’s on the horizon, but not quite within reach.” 

“Have you spoken to father about it?”

“I have the feeling that waiting until the last moment will work best for me. A bit of chaos if you will.”

Thor chuckled

“You never change, brother.”

“Why alter something that needs not fixing?”

“That bridge is yours to cross and I will be there for you when it happens. Regardless, food will be waiting for you and your lady when you're ready to come out.”

Loki nodded his head in acknowledgment and Thor left the room. With the door closing, you stretched and turned around to face Loki. 

“So, you plan on making me your wife?”

“You were awake?!”

“I had stirred awake when your brother knocked on the door. I wasn’t faking it the whole time. Although I’ll admit, it’s nice to know you’re in this fully.”

You stood up and moved to sit in Loki’s lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“Well, since you eavesdropped in on the conversation, are you up to eat?”

You answered, hesitantly,

“Yes...if you’re in it fully and an offer of marriage is in the near future, the least I can do to convey my undying fidelity is to be shared with you in public. I’m ready for it all.”

Standing up, you stepped to the side to let Loki up and lead the way. Once out of his quarters you walked beside him through the corridors of the palace he called home. Arriving in the dining hall to your surprise and relief everyone had already left. The two of you to be left alone. Life felt unusually at ease, anxiety was free from your bones and you had a gut feeling that at least while you were here everything would play out in your favor. It was more than comforting and for once in quite some time you were finally able to eat. A little more than you expected honestly. You hadn’t realized how much you had been depriving yourself of necessary nutrients because eating was the last thing on your mind. Everything had been cluttered for the past year. 

It wasn’t until recently that your appetite began to fizzle out. You knew you’d eventually be okay but one meal a day would eventually catch up to you. And right now it was showing.

“Hungry?”

Suddenly aware of your surroundings and Loki’s raised eyebrow you were faced with how much you had actually gone through while being stuck in your head. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t look like a pig did I?”

You shrunk, your shoulders making a poor attempt at hiding your embarrassed face.

“No, Y/N, you did not. Simply wondering how you put it all away.”

You paused wondering whether or not you should expose yourself. Relationships were all about transparency, right? 

“I haven’t been eating all that much lately. The mental has affected the physical especially within my own home and I finally felt comfortable within these walls and I completely forgot my manners. My apologies.”

“I never said to stop. Indulge till your heart and well, stomach’s content Y/N. This will be your home, thus you may behave however you see fit. There’s no need for change.”

Looking at Loki through your brow you saw that he meant what he said. The expression on his face silently communicating sincerity to you. Your embarrassment faded and was replaced with affirmation. 

Finishing in the hall you and Loki walked back into his quarters. Night had fallen over the sky completely and the hallways of the palace looked more familiar to you now. Entering his room you walked past the bed and went straight for the balcony. You looked up towards the sky, looking for the answer to all your questions to be written in the stars. You failed to hear the footsteps behind you and only became aware of Loki’s presence when his arms wrapped around your waist, his head resting on your shoulders.

“You know, the stars aren’t going to give you the answers with any more ease. Believe me, I’ve tried. You just have to do what you don’t want to.”

“I know I just...I just wish it would be easier. I wish we had the freedoms of the cosmos, being able to travel through the entire mass of space without thought of what's to come next.”

You turned around, resting your back against the railing. You looked down and fiddled with your fingers for a moment before you looked up at Loki. The moonlight was bright and full, casting a white shadow across his features. You were unsure of what to do with your hands so you just placed them by your sides and admired Loki for a little while longer. A small smile subconsciously formed on your face and it wasn't until Loki reached for your hands did the haze in your eyes fade.  

“If only you knew the chaos I’d bring upon worlds. If only you knew the hells I’d race through, the agony I’d suffer with if it meant you by my side...it would seem that freedom is already had, my darling.” 

“Loki, I-

“-No matter the circumstance, you will be by my side. Whatever the battle is you must face with your parents, I swear to you, you will not bear the burden alone. If you were to, then what would I be here for?”

Your hand squeezed around his own and before you got a chance to respond to him, Loki’s hand slipped from your own and tilted your chin up. Staring into your eyes before capturing you into a searing kiss. It felt warm, comfortable, and fueled by fiery passion all at once. You removed your hand from his and wrapped your arms around his neck, weaving your fingers into his hair. Loki’s hands traveled to your waist but didn’t stay long before they traveled further down and firmly grasped your ass in his hand. The action causing an airy moan to slip from you and tug on his hair tighter eliciting a similar response from him. He slipped away from your lips, smirk all too telling of what was to come next 

“Coming alive now that the moon is out? You’re like my own personal bloodsucker.”

You playfully hit his shoulder 

“Loki..” 

“What it’s true darling. You really do, come...alive at night. It’s not a problem though, I quite enjoy seeing you shed the layers you wear while the sun shines.”

Emphasizing his point he squeezed your ass again and tapped under signaling to you to jump. Wrapping your legs around his slender waist, he turned you around and walked back into his bedroom. 

“Now that you are in your element, I take it it's time for that prize you spoke of so arrogantly earlier.”

Your eyes widened realizing what you had just signed yourself up for. Loki placed you gently down on his bed and crawled over to face you directly. 

“Unfortunately...for you at least, your choice in waiting will leave you in desperate need of a pillow to keep you from waking anyone important up.” 

“You’re so snarky, what if I desire to control this evening, hmm?”

“It will be a dream short-lived my love. You and I both know you have a debilitating tendency to fall weak under my touch. It’s irresistible to you.”

Tangling your leg underneath Loki’s, you flipped yourself over so that you were now on top of him. Desperate in having at least one moment to relish in dominance over him. Situating yourself you ground yourself into his now growing arousal. Planting your hands on his chest you brought yourself forward, leaning down into his ear and rolling your hips into his once more causing him to hiss through his teeth. Licking a stripe up from his neck to his ear you ended your trail with a light nibble on his lobe. In your last-ditch effort of a display of power, you whispered in his ear,

“Don’t be dense, you and I both know you enjoy it with much fervor being like this.”

And just like that, your moment of fame was something of the past. Before you could even register that your moment was gone, Loki was already on top of you, and the dress that once adorned your soft skin was being torn down the middle, exposing your body to him.

“Loki!-”

“-My love, there was no room left for teasing. We already established that did we not? Now, to remind you of your place, I’m going to make sure you never forget it or this night we’re sharing.”

Loki snaked down your body, his hands resting on your hips bones while he nudged your sex with his nose. Squirming your way into a submissive role, you rolled your hips down in need of any type of friction. 

“Y/N, unlike some people in the room, I fully intend on giving you what you yearn for. You just have to find the willpower of patience within you. Remember I don’t like teasing.”

“But you do like to lie, which you just did right th-”

Your sentence was cut short cuz Loki had licked a tender stripe between your folds. Sending passion electric through your body. Your head lulled back into the bed fully engaged in Loki’s ministrations to your most sensitive of areas. Losing yourself in the moment you failed to notice Loki’s hands traveling up your sides and resting on your pert nipples. Rolling them between his fingers, your fingers clutched the sheets beneath you, needing something to brace yourself on. 

“Shit~ Loki, you're so good! Oh my god, don’t stop, I’m so close!”

Lifting his head up slightly you felt the change in atmosphere waiting for his smart remark to leave his lips.

“You said that with a lowercase g right?”

A little extra air left your nose signaling your light amusement to his statement. Only to follow it with a roll of your eyes still amazed by Loki’s narcissism even in such an intimate moment. The lightness in the air didn’t last long for Loki continued his attack on your cunt without warning. Smirking against your folds, he spoke

“Don’t roll your eyes at me. Unless you’re seeking punishment this evening.” 

“Fuck Loki!”

His tongue was something otherworldly, finding all your sweet spots and using it to his advantage. He rolled your nipple once more and this time added a lithe finger inside your dripping heat curling it just right to become acquainted with the cute little spongy spot within you. Your hands found refuge in his black locks, rolling your hips into his face feeling your release begin to peak over the precipice. 

“Loki, please don’t stop! I’m so close, I’m gonna cum. Please, Please Loki let me cum.”

A reinvigorated fire was now fueling Loki to help you reach your bliss and with a swift back and forth motion on your now swollen clit your orgasm washed over you in a way you hadn’t felt before. Your back arched and your thighs clamped around Loki’s head being completely overwhelmed with your climax. As your orgasm subsided you brought yourself to your elbows getting ready to return the favor to your lover. But he had other plans.

Grabbing your hips, Loki slid you down the bed closer to him and placed his mouth on your sensitive mound once more.

“Holy shit! Loki, stop, I'm so sensitive.”

Looking up at your through hooded lids, he cocked one eyebrow and questioned

“Do you really want me to stop?”

“I-uhh”

Flattening his tongue against your sex your response was lost in thin air replaced with a cry of pleasure. Loki entered another finger into your fluttering cunt and was determined on bringing you to a second rapture which was not difficult considering the aftershocks of your first one were still running through you. You felt the heat pool in your lower stomach and you began to feel the pressure build somewhere lower. For a split second, you became worried about what was going to happen next and you attempted to push Loki away from you not wanting to lose control, but his other arm kept you in place. 

“Loki, please I can’t handle it. Please!”

You weren’t quite sure what it was you were begging for. It definitely wasn’t for him to stop because you were so close but rather to save the embarrassment of what was to come. Unable to ward off your orgasm any longer, Loki’s finger made one final motion and your second orgasm was even stronger than the first. Ruining your vision and making your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“Darling...remind me from now on to never let you writhe out of my ministries.”

Trying to calm down your heavy breathing you looked down at Loki only to be met with the sight of beads of your orgasm trail down his face and your juices glistening on his chin. The sheets beneath you beginning to turn a little cold. 

“Loki, oh my-”

Climbing up over your body, he hovered over your face. Somehow while lost in your own euphoria Loki’s shirt was discarded somewhere in the room and you were all but distracted by his toned physique.

“Don’t even think about an apology. Seeing you lose yourself in me like that was more than satisfying and this was just an extra luxury that you allowed me to enjoy.”

He emphasized his point by rubbing his fingers through your weeping pussy causing your body to jerk due to the sensitivity and Loki just smiled at you. Moaning you trailed your hand down to the pronounced tent in Loki’s pants. 

“I can’t wait any longer Loki. I need you inside of me. Please.”

Your voice faded into a whimper becoming insatiable with Loki above you. Fidgeting with the button on his pants, it didn’t take you long to have them unfastened, and slipped your hand into his pants, palming his length. Loki dropped his head into the crook of your neck, a low growl escaping his throat. Helping Loki push the fabric down the rest of his legs he positioned himself in between your hips lining himself up with your entrance. Looking up at you, you noticed there was a certain softness swimming in his eyes. 

“Y/N, you are so beautiful. Truly you are the most entrancing woman I’ve ever laid eyes on and I’m more than favored to be able to call you mine.”

“Loki, I~oh fuck”

The recurring theme of your sentences being lost in translation continued when Loki prodded his tip at your entrance causing you to suck in a breath of sheer pleasure. 

“Don’t tease me, please. Just fill me up Loki, I feel so empty without you.”

A moan and an airy chuckle left Loki’s lips before he fully sheathed himself within your tight core.

“Darling, no matter how many times I have marred your womb you still remain tight as ever. Gods you feel divine.”

Moving at a slow yet devastating pace Loki’s cock was kissing your cervix and sweet spot with every single thrust. Your core clenching around him created a resistance that was licentious and overwhelming for the both of you. Loki pulled himself almost all the way out and then slammed back into your sopping cunt causing a loud high pitched moan to flee from your chords.

“Shit! Loki, do that again.”

Loki repeated the action and your back arched from the bed and your nails dug into his back racking down the length of it. This new pace and pattern of movement were moving you quickly to your third release of the evening.

“You like that Y/N. Like how my cock can make you feel like no one else can. I’m going to make sure that your insides become so familiar with my shape that nothing else will be able to satisfy you.”

Picking up his pace slightly, Loki was still slamming deep inside you. Your eyes were no longer able to stay open while lost in all the pleasure that was tingling your entire body. Quickly though that thought would be eradicated from your mind as Loki’s hand came up to your face squishing your cheeks together forcing your lips to pout.

“Look at me while I fuck you Y/N. I want to watch you fall apart underneath me. I want you to watch as I fill you with my seed, claiming you as mine forever.”

You and Loki had never let him finish inside of you and the idea of him filling you with his seed and becoming swollen with his kid had you squeezing around him tighter than you ever had. Your moans picked up in frequency and you moved your hand up to his neck bringing his face down to your so that you could share a kiss while the both of you were approaching your highs. Loki’s hand snaked down to your core and began lightly rubbing on your clit. The last bit of stimulation fully brings you to the peak of your approaching high.

“Loki, fuck. I’m going to cum. Please don’t stop. Please please please!”

Loki brought his forehead down to rest on yours. A sticky layer of sweat was evident on both your faces. His thrusts became more erratic signaling he hadn’t much time left in him before his high. 

“I love you, Y/N. More than you could fathom. And I~ahh”

This affirmation took you by surprise. You and Loki had a strong partnership and you knew that you loved each other mutually but you both had never said it out loud before. Not only did this warm your heart but it also pushed you over your threshold and your climax. Washing over you for the third time that evening. Your fluttering core cutting off Loki’s admirations for you and also sending him over his escarpment. 

“I love you too Loki, so much. I~ah fuck you feel so good still.”

Keeping your foreheads still pressed together, you stayed like that until your breathing mellowed out. Waiting for the right moment to speak again. Pulling out of you Loki watched as his seed was spilling out of you due to the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

“Now look at that. This is something I could get used to seeing. But more importantly, I want to ensure that your womb takes all of me.”

Taking his nimble fingers, Loki was gently pushing back his cum inside of your cunt. You were so sensitive that each time his fingers grazed your now wrecked hole, your body reacted with a quick shake and the tightening of your stomach. Your eyes kept halfway rolling into the back of your head, the overstimulation turning into something of immense ecstasy. 

“Come up here Loki.”

Sliding his way up towards the head of the bed where you were, you nestled into his chest. His skin still tacky with sweat, your bodies melding together like human puzzle pieces. Your hand was drawing mindlessly on his chest and eventually found its way to his face where you were thumbing his cheek. 

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what- of course, I did. Y/N you know that lying to you is something I find absurd. And of the few things, I refuse to lie about, intimacy is one of them. Do not fill yourself with unnecessary doubt.”

Turning his face to yours you shared another kiss with him. Tender and full of passion you were silently telling him that you understood and that the feelings were reciprocated. Pulling away from you he sat up.

“Perhaps we should run ourselves a bath. Clean ourselves up before we grow too tired to think about anything else.”

Sighing you pushed yourself up to sit upright on the bed. Lightly nodding Loki stood from the bed and was waiting for you before moving any further. You looked up at him with pleading eyes

“Carry me?”

With a roll of his eyes and a click of his tongue he begrudgingly picked you up bridal style and walked you to the bathroom of his quarters.

“You are incongruous.”

“Perhaps I am, but for us, it works.”

Setting you down on the edge of the tub Loki began drawing the bath. Steam rising up from the heat of the water. You knew it would sting on the way in but the initial burn would morph into relaxation and ease your now tense muscles. Reaching for the soap on the corner of the bath closest to you, you walked over shakily to the spout of water so that bubbles would form before the two of you got in. 

Once the water hit an appropriate height Loki helped you in, already aware of the weakness in your legs. Settling in behind you he began washing you down with one of the many washrags in the bathroom.

“You know, we’re going to have to get this out in the open a lot sooner than we were planning. Especially if you are to have my child.”

“I know. I was thinking about that. Give my silence. Let us wait till morning to run through our thoughts about how to go about this. I want to enjoy this moment with you without the worry of what’s to come next.” 

“Understood my love.”

With Loki having the last word, the two of you shared amorous silence while relaxing in the tub. Enjoying each other’s company, the silence between the two of you was necessary to think about what was going to happen next in the chaos of your life. Finishing up in the bath, you two dried off and headed off to bed. Wrapped in each other’s arms, you drifted off to sleep rather quickly. Your body exhausted from the night's affairs. Not knowing that this would be the last night you recognized what peace could ever look like.

#loki #Loki Laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki imagine #loki smut #loki x reader #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson smut #loki laufeyson x reader #marvel fanfic #marvel smut #marvel imagine #marvel x reader

[stoneworldsimp]

the dying poet

senku x reader

warnings: angst, mentions of food/water deprivation, swearing

day seven.

fuck, fuck, FUCK!

it felt like you had been running for hours, trying to shake this wild animal off. you made sharp turns behind large bushes in hopes of losing it, you’d hold as still as possible behind large roots on the ground, but the animal kept finding you in one way or another.

“please go away,”you panted. “c’mon. you’ve been chasing me fucking forever, can’t you just give up?!”

you were tired; your legs were about to buckle in on themselves. dinner one night was suddenly ruined when you realized the fucker was watching you eat. in the beginning you thought it was only after your food, not you; you threw a random ration away from your camp in hopes to get it away from you. in hindsight, it only worked until you fell asleep.

you were lucky to wake up the next morning alive; your set up had been ripped to shreds, and footprints were on the ground around your body. it was painstakingly slow and nerve wracking to escape your position, but once you had everything you absolutely needed, you booked it.

sprinting for miles after miles proved to be very difficult for quite some time now.

the phone...it’s weighing me down. my bag of food isn’t even half as heavy as the phone.

looking down at the call button in your hand, you thought about tossing the phone. maybe i can fix it.. no, i don’t have any tools, the fucking animal chewed on them like dog bones. is there any way to put the wire back together...?

“FUCK my life!”

you took the phone off your back and threw it to you left, careful not to trip yourself in the process. immediately, you and your body felt the difference. with your new found energy, the run away was becoming easier, and helped you see a large cave just over the horizon. using the last of your energy, you took as large of steps as you can, and practically threw your body into the cave. the animal’s footsteps were nowhere to be heard, but you figured you didn’t want to take any chances and look behind you. you were finally breaking free from being chased, just a little deeper into this cave, and if i can find specific markings then i can backtrack—

a deep, loud rumble took you away from your thoughts. in no time, you were engulfed in dust and thick particles you didn’t know of.

the caved had closed in.

day one.

“i can do it.”

“are you sure? its a pretty perilous trip—“

“you should at least bring one other person with you—“

you sighed, exasperated that you had to defend your case once again. it had been days since the decision was made; you were going to make a trip to another part of the island in hopes to find extremely specific materials for one of senku’s projects... and it was far, far away.

quite frankly, you were the only one fit for the adventure. you were known to travel well on foot, had an exceptional sense of direction and you had a good eye for natural elements, as well as food; you also were unintentionally the least helpful when staying in the village. you didn’t have the crafting skills to successfully make glass or metal components for his experiments, and you never trusted your brain when helping senku with calculations and blueprints.

hearing senku and gen talk about this long trip to another part of the island was almost a dream come true. it was perfect for someone with your skillset, and kept you from being in the way of everybody else.

“it’ll be fine. c’mon, you guys have SOME faith in our traveler, right?”

you turned around, a smile on your face as you caught senku walking out of his lab. thank you, you mouthed.

once senku reached you and the group of villagers crowding near you, he spoke up again. “this trip is a straight shot from the bridge, the only problem would be that it’s going to take some time. possibly a month just to get there. but you,” he turned to face you,”have excellent outdoorsy-type skills that will make it really easy for you to spot what we need right away. everyone needs to stop worrying, because you’ll be there and back in no time. two months will pass like nothing.”

as the rest of the group walked away, mumbling their skepticisms, senku took your hand and tugged you back to the lab.

“what’re you taking me here for? oh wait,”you planted your feet at the front of the lab curtains, keeping the both of you from entering. “are you making me help you with your math again? because—”

“no, you’re pretty terrible at calculations,”he replied. “i have something for you.”

you puffed out your cheeks in embarrassment, but your expression completely changed once the curtain was opened.

on the table, there was a telephone. if was the size of a backpack, but it still had a speaker, a microphone, and a call button.

“i made it for you to take on the trip, in case you have any emergencies. i fully trust you in your own survival skills, but you never know if something extreme happens.”

you gave his hand a squeeze before letting go. as you walked closer to the table, you touched the outer fabric. you turned back to senku. “thank you.”

“you don’t have to thank me. i’m only making something that’s essential to your travels.”

“even still,” you trailed off. “i appreciate it.”

you turned back around and beamed at senku. “i’m not going to call you until i get there. i want to make sure that no enemies try to tail me if they hear me, as much as i’d want to give in right away and hear your voice. something like that...”

“how corny.” senku smiled and pulled you close while you laughed. you jumped a bit when his hands made their way around your waist.

“a bit touchy today,” you asked, grabbing hold of his shoulders. “but i’m not complaining.”

“i’m stockpiling the feeling of you for the weeks to come. we’ve never spent this much time apart before; it’s only logical.”

“i guess you’re right.”

he kissed you, multiple times; each one was deeper than the last.

day eleven.

he brought me a flower every morning, because i always slept in later than him. he’d wake up at the asscrack of dawn, just to have more time to jot ideas down. i used to try and pull him back to sleep with me, but he was so overflowing with plans, i didn’t want to stop him.

you turned on your side.

i remember he went to explore with chrome really early one morning, and apparently they found some huge meadow with a bunch of plants. ever since then, he would bring me a different kind; it was always a single flower, too. they were different colors and shapes, and some were enormous and some were smaller than my finger. he never woke me up for it, though. he would just leave it for me when i woke up on my own. it was always a surprise, almost startling when i’d open my eyes. it was my own pick-me-up for the day, in a sense.. no matter what happened the night before, waking up to a new type of flower would put me in a good mood every time. it was better than a coffee in the morning.

i wonder if he’s looking at the flowers with chrome everyday while i’m gone. man, i still wake up hoping to see a new one in front of me.

sure, reminiscing was fun and felt good, but what’s the point? you had eaten all of your food approximately two days ago, you only had about a teaspoon of water left, and there was no getting out of there. the way you came in had been covered in a dam of rocks. you couldn’t even dig yourself out.

you furiously wiped the tears that fell from your eyes. “senku...why did i think i could go alone?”

day fifteen.

poke, poke—

something was touching you. no, someone was touching you. your head bobbed side to side, in an attempt to shake them off.

damn, that’s persistent.

opening your eyes, you woke up to senku smiling. he was knelt beside your form. “wake up, sleeping beauty! it’s been almost three hours.”

it’s only been three hours?!

you sat up way too fast, and felt lightheaded as you tried to ask,”but...why didn’t you.. wake me up earlier? did everybody...did everyone eat already?”

he laughed. “yeah, sorry. we all thought you were out doing something with chrome. but,” he turned around, to grab something behind him,”i saved some in case you got hungry when you came back.”

you took the food in a dizzy haze. was it even food? you didn’t care too much, it felt like you hadn’t eaten for a long time. any food at this point was good food.

you couldn’t even swallow the first bite. “do you- is there..any water?”

“what?” senku pulled away from you, a look of disbelief painted across his face. it was clear as day.

you hesitated, feeling more lightheaded than before. “w- water?”

“don’t you remember?” he asked. he turned away from you. “there hasn’t been any water in days.”

it’s been days.

your body jolted from its spot, and harsh reality hit you square in the face.

yes, right. you shakily rubbed your eyes to make sure they weren’t cemented shut.

in the cave, finished your food, no water to be found. making yourself walk around was no use, either; without the fuel, your body was essentially just a trembling mess.

you scowled at yourself; unsure of what to do, what to even think.

day eighteen.

you remembered how he kissed you. the first kisses the most; you always had to tell him to not look so terrified. you also had to remind him to not stand like a statue when you kissed. pretty soon, after some reassurance, he got comfortable. there was nothing but confidence in the way he caressed your face in his hands. usually he was the one to pull away; you were so mesmerized, it felt as if the world completely stopped.

they were always quick and out of the way in public. usually, it was on your forehead or your one of your cheeks. the deep kisses you felt when you two were alone were incomparable. soft lips remained on yours for what felt like centuries. he tasted sweet, in his own way—

wait, who?

you licked your lips slowly, trying to think.

it was no use; you couldn’t even remember what he looked like. you lolled your head to the side and stared at the outline of a rock a couple of feet away.

once i get out of here, i’ll kiss him. whoever it was. it won’t matter if it’s just us, or more people. i’ll kiss him forever.

maybe if i go to sleep.. i can see him again.

#dr stone #dr stone x reader #senku ishigami x reader #senku x reader #ishigami senku x reader #ishigami senku #senku ishigami #dr stone imagines #dr stone scenarios #senku ishigami fluff #aahhh this was a little half baked #I’ve been busy what can I say😔 #my semesters almost over and I have a placement test #final drivers test(yes I’m 20 and my ass can’t drive legally) #and another performance with my current schools ensemble #despite all of this. I hope u like what is basically my first attempt with angst! #at* not with ew