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#Man Who Would Be King was truly something else
justallihere · 3 days
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i'm going insane bc i was away for the weekend and left my phone alone (god bless) and came back to a whole chapter PLUS love declaration PLUS forehead kiss ?? omg.....
Mira is not letting Xaden rest like ever, I do wonder what Violet told her while Xaden was prepping her bath tho.
“Not if it bothers you, they can’t,” said Xaden. “I’ll make sure they keep it away from you.” 
oh he wants violet to be comfortable so baaaad he's the embodiment of "is the sun bothering you queen" and im so here for it.
i'm totally fine and sane over xaden washing violet's hair im not kicking my feet or anything and im definetely not crying over how soft they are and how much trust must violet have on him bc she's letting him touch her hair after it being threatned to be cut.
forehead touches are my faaaav so u can imagine how well fed i am after this chapter and for that i say thank you alli *dramatically bows*
Xaden not wanting her to feel like she wasnt love so he just declares himself to her had me weak, like it could've been this grand gesture but nothing between them has ever been planned or expected so he just winged it and it was perfectly what she needed. talk about soulmates !!
when u told us the declaration was gonna hurt i didnt have this imagined in my mind but im so glad it happened this way and not the way i thought it was gonna happen. it was so bittersweet !!
ALSO she def knows she loves him shes just not ready to admit it bc in no way in hell would she ask him to say after he declared himself if she didnt know she also felt something
also the way they first slept i know xaden neck was complaining
also violet reminded me of a cat who always try to get closer in their sleep. she just wants to cuddle !! and shes so real for that
Rhiannon is truly a bestie!! not her terrorrizing the love interest we love a ride or die bestie, even if sometimes she's unresonable
“You whisked her away before anyone could check on her.” 
bestie there was not one single part of her that wasnt broken what was the man supposed to do *cries* but i do understand her stress
SLOANE MAIRI !!! not her calling the king of tyrrendor her brother i love that for her !! she's a princess so true. also i looove xaden and liam's talk it wasnt too cheesy bc tbh they dont operate like that but it was so genuine !!
can the guards chill !!
Garrick is just like me!! i too love gossip and will put my hands on it as soon as i can. but garrick its been like 12 hours wait a little longer or violet herself will call u out again. but also not garrick begging xaden no rule to country and he's just like "no <3" love that for him his wife just got back running a country is very far from his mind.
“Is that what you told her to do?” Rhiannon raised an eyebrow. “Get over it?” “No, but you’re not her, are you?”
He's so ??!!
the development of violet a few chapters ago being like "he didnt hold me while we slept bc there had been no excuses for it in Aretia" to now being like "im gonna curl into your arms so hard you'll never escape" and honestly good for them !!
anywayyyy i LOVED this chapter
lol a lot happened this weekend, welcome back!!!
Xaden’s literal one and only concern is Violet and her comfort, fuck everything else. I’m totally not fine and sane about the hair washing so I guess we balance each other out 🫶🏻
They are very much soulmates!! Xaden didn’t plan to fall in love with her, of course he didn’t plan some grand declaration of it either, we’re just going with what feels right. Violet is a grumpy little kitten yes you’re right
Rhiannon is stressed as hell, like give her best friend back RIORSON where is she
Garrick needs both gossip and for Xaden to do his job and he’s getting neither of those things! Too bad so sad!
Thank you!!!! 🩷
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yandere-writer-momo · 2 months
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Thinking about a Yandere Demon Lord. This is Part 1.
Yandere Head Canons:
Defying Destiny
Yandere Demon Lord x Isekai Saintess Reader x Yandere Hero
TW: Voyeurism, stalking, Somniaphilia, dacryphillia, dark content, etc
Part 2
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You were surprised to be alive after your cold fiancé pushed you into oncoming traffic when you got into an argument with him… all you had wanted was for him to show you that he loved you, but instead he killed you. Yet your life didn’t end… no. Far from it.
Rather than waking up in the supposed after life, you woke up in the Rerenth Kingdom. A fantasy kingdom in a magical world plagued with problems written in fiction novels. And the emperor explained to you, no, demanded that you to take on your role as Saintess to save them from the Demon King.
The demon king was now your enemy. Defeating him was the only way for you to go home… but did you even want to do that? In your last life and in this one, you were merely another unhappy pawn. The silk robes and dazzling abilities did nothing to shield you from the harsh reality of what your life has become once more… would you ever truly be free? Would you ever truly be happy?
The servants often spoke of the monstrous Demon King who controlled the forces of darkness that sought to destroy the light. A demonic entity none of the people in this kingdom had ever truly seen with their own eyes, but they believed him to be out there… how else were they to explain the supernatural happenings that plagued their kingdom? This entire ordeal made little sense to you since you hadn’t seen many disputes between humans and demons unless they were over territory. Vast majority of the time, it was humans that ventured into the demonic lands anyways. Was this perhaps some propaganda tactic? You didn’t know and you didn’t question it, you simply wanted to retire to a peaceful life.
It took a few weeks for you to be able to control your new holy power, but you were able to now harness it for barriers and for healing. Abilities that would be useless without a hero… a fact that the citizens soon realized so they began to devise another plan. To summon a hero!
Another few weeks passed by and they successfully summoned a valiant hero by the name of Reinhardt. His chiseled face was constantly covered by the taxidermied lion mask that adorned his face. The man was massive and intimidating, yet you couldn’t help but feel there was something familiar about him. You couldn’t place a finger on who he could possibly be since you didn’t know anyone else with an imposing stature like his but that gut feeling never left you.
Reinhardt would often glance you up and down when he thought you weren’t looking. His green eyes would bore into yours until you felt as if you’d be set ablaze. He was terrifying to you. Especially now that you were on a journey with him to defeat the demon king… along with a fox beastwoman fighter and an elven mage who had joined your party due to the emperor’s order. The Emperor didn’t see you to be enough aid to the hero on this important quest.
Both adventurers were quite rude to you at first since you had no offensive abilities. They often fawned over the hero who blatantly ignored their affections to instead watch over you like a hawk. A fact the two women didn’t really enjoy, but they accepted it as the weeks melted into months. And you still didn’t know their names since they never told you (and Reinhardt never spoke).
The three of them often fought and killed monsters and demons while you protected the supplies and healed their injuries. It upset you that your party ambushed them since the enemies usually were unarmed. Majority of the time, it was a one-sided slaughter. An endless bloodbath that you had no power to stop.
You often lied to your peers about monsters hiding, unaware that your small act of kindness would lead to a snowball effect in the future. You had now caught the eye of an entity much stronger than you and the hero’s party… all because you were merciful. You were kind and sweet. A true saintess.
Your softness had made your peers joke about you being a cry baby. The elven mage and beastwoman often jabbed their elbows into your side to joke about the tears you’d cry because they thought you were scared. The dense women never realized your tears were for the innocent monsters they slaughtered on a day to day basis too. You were never scared of the demons or monsters, you were scared of them.
Yet Reinhardt nipped the subtle bullying in the bud by shoving the other two adventures away from you with his strong arms. He always made sure you were safe before he offered his body for healing… which he’d just make gesture at you with his hands rather than speak. It seemed he was fond of you, a fondness you didn’t understand since he never spoke to you.
Reinhardt would often pick you up without asking you and tuck you into the crook of his large arm. It bothered you that he never took off his mask, but he had quite an attractive jawline with the slightest bit of stubble. There was not a doubt in your mind that Reinhardt was likely an attractive man, but that didn’t matter. Since he was creepy.
Reinhardt never uttered a word to you but would always dutifully stand by your side (or carry you like some sort of damsel). He often reminded you of your ex fiancé with his stoic demeanor and his bewitching green eyes. And the staring. You swore you felt bare under his gaze even if you had multiple layers on.
And it wasn’t just his eyes you felt on you, you swore there was someone else watching you in the shadows and the possibility of you having another stalker made your skin crawl. Had you finally gone insane from having Reinhardt be around you 24/7? Or was there something sinister amiss?
Maybe that’s why Reinhardt so dutifully clung to you? Whether his protection was out of obligation or simply because he lusted for you, his presence did little to ease the extra set of eyes. In fact, he made it worse.
Wherever you were, Reinhardt was never far. He was with you when you bathed to stand guard. He was carrying you if you couldn’t keep up with him and the rest of the hero’s party. Reinhardt even began to stay in your tent with you…
He didn’t utter a word when he watched over you whenever you had nightmares. Reinhardt never woke you up from the horrific dreams of the man with pitch black hair and sharp talons pulling you into his lap and having his way with you. No, Reinhardt instead dragged his tongue down your tear stricken face in delight.
Reinhardt knew his actions were wrong, but he couldn’t help but fawn over your helpless form. You were so weak without his protection… you were a lamb sent to a slaughter that luckily had a herding dog with you. You should be grateful Reinhardt had such an intense interest in you, otherwise you could have perished earlier on at the goblin camps. Or those other two party members would have likely broken a few of your bones from rough housing. You were a frail bird that needed to be locked up at all times and Reinhardt was willing to be the one to do that! He would keep you safe, even if it took you years to understand even an ounce of his magnitude of feelings for you. He was a patient man!
It wasn’t uncommon for you to wake up in your tent with Reindhart’s imposing form standing over you ominously. You’d cry every single time, but he’d make no move to comfort you. Only stare.
Over the last four weeks, you begin to receive little trinkets in your tent on the daily. Delicacies that Reinhardt would immediately pitch once he saw them, but it filled you with anxiety that he was not the one slipping you those gifts… who on earth could be gifting you such pretty rocks and wild flowers?
You were flattered, just the tiniest bit, by the small, temporary gifts. They were much more welcomed than the iron grip of Reinhardt’s arms. Even though the sender made you anxious, it was nice to know that someone took you into consideration. It was a small action that filled you with hope. Perhaps you would be saved from this fate?
Shame you didn’t understand just how much those tiny gifts upset the hero. Your eyes should only be on him. Your entire purpose should revolve around him. Reinhardt wanted to find the individual who sent you these gifts so he could rip them limb from limb. You belonged to him and he would show you that you had no way of escaping him. You were going to be his bride! Whether you liked it or not, the hero had chosen you as his destined one!
Recently, you’d wake up to him laying beside you in your tent with his large arms wrapped around you. His Roman nose buried into the crook of your neck. This was far worse than him lingering in your tent since he had become so physical.
And your peers did nothing about his harassment of you. To them, it was cute that the hero was so ‘enamored’ with the Saintess! You’ve even heard whispers of how the emperor will no doubt arrange a marriage between the two of you once the four of you eliminated the demon king. It terrified you even more because you knew you’d have little say in the matter… your life was spiraling out of your own control once more. This time, into the arms of some brute with attachment issues. You didn’t want to marry another emotionally constipated man! You wanted to have freedom!
You often cried yourself to sleep which only made Reinhardt even more overbearing. He now would press kisses to your cheeks and cuddle his body into yours. Even in your dreams, you couldn’t escape this massive man. If only you could be saved…
And when you drifted off into an unnaturally heavy sleep, your barriers deactivated. An action that allowed the Demon King to finally slip into your party’s camp and take what he wanted. You.
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pinejayy · 10 months
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hi . i have a request
what if muzan wife had been reborn and he saw her by accident how would he reacts? . sorry for any mistakes English isn't my first language
sure thing!! I hope you enjoy this uwu
trigger warnings: mentions of death, a bit of yandere
here's part 2
I'll make you remember me (Muzan Kibustsuji x F!Reader)
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It's been years since Muzan has lost you and it has broken him, he had lost you his wife. The Demon King truly missed you, he misses your smile and he misses how kind you were towards him. But everything was taking away from him after you were killed by some humans. They found out about your relationship with the Demon and since you were human it was just against their laws that a human and a demon could love each other. But he made sure to kill those humans who took you away.
But that was about 30 years ago, and Muzan has pushed those feelings down deep inside of him.
Tonight was a peaceful night, he was walking around the small village, as people were walking past him he couldn't help but growl to himself, he hated humans. He hated how they took you away from him. But the Demon needed a break from his work and the Upper Moons, they all get on his nerves. He just sighed to himself, as he was walking hearing the humans walk around and speak to each other but a voice caught his attention, it sounded like your voice. No that can't be right? You were long gone and 6 feet under.
"Fresh Noodles right here! Come buy them as their fresh!"
Yes that sounded like your voice, he decided to follow the voice, as he walked he seemed to be getting nervous. As he walked towards the voice he saw you? Standing by a small Noodle shop. You were smiling and waving at people walking by. Was it really you, Muzan walked towards you. Was this reincarnation? Did the universe send you back to him?
"Hello sir, would you like to buy some noodles." You say with a smile.
Muzan couldn't help but smile as he heard your voice and he just nodded. To which you just nodded, both of you walked into the shop. He looked around there was a few people. He sat down by a table that was away from everyone else.
"What can I get you today sir?"
He looked at you, it seemed like you don't remember him. "Y/N you don't remember me? It's me Muzan your husband." To which you looked at him confused.
"Oh I'm sorry sir, it seems like you have the wrong person." You say. "But would you like to hear about the specials today?"
Muzan looked at you, so you really don't remember him? He was heart broken. He just looked down. "Please Y/N...we were married. You were my wife...You were Mine." He hissed softly, looking at you. Muzan looked around the small shop and it seemed to be empty now. "You we're my Wife! They took you away from me!" He said. Standing up. He looked down at you. Seeing your eye color. They still looked beautiful.
" Oh sir...I don't know what you're talking about..Please leave now!" You say, taking a step back. And this just made Muzan even more upset. How dare you tell him to leave.
He looked at you one last time before leaving you alone at the shop. He was going to get you back and he was going to make you remember him and your past life.
After awhile, you were closing up for the night. Cleaning up everything, you sigh and thought about that odd man. He did seem familiar, and his voice you also recognized. But nothing came to mind. As you were getting ready to leave, you heard something behind you, and before you could turn around you felt a arm wrap around you. And a cold hand over your mouth, you tried to struggle. But whoever was holding you had a strong grip.
"Shh don't make this harder for me my queen."
Hearing the voice of the man from awhile ago. Struggling more, this made Muzan growl softly and he tighten his grip against you. "Stop moving Y/N." He said removing the hand he had over your mouth. and he started dragged a nail against your cheek.
"Please sir.." You started to cry out. "I don't know you."
He snarled and with that he turned you around so you were facing him. He grabbed your face quite harshly and forced you to look him in the eyes. "YES YOU DO, WHY CAN'T YOU REMEMBER ME Y/N! I LOVED YOU! YOU WERE TAKEN AWAY FROM ME!."
You whimper softly, and started to tear up. This made Muzan softly. He loosen his grip but didn't let you go. "I'm sorry my love, it's just been so many years without you and I deeply miss you."
You just stand there looking at the man's eyes. His pink oddly familiar eyes... "Please...let me go."
Muzan didn't want to force you out of here but if he has too then he will. He smirked, looking down at you. Placing a hand around your neck and bringing you closer to him, he placed his lips against yours. Oh how much he misses your lips.
You just stand there shocked, and of course you didn't return the kiss. Muzan pulled away and smiled at you.
"Don't worry my love, I'll make you remember me." He said and with a quick motion he hit you across the head. You fell to the floor. Out cold, Muzan just sighed and picked up your body and he threw you over his shoudler.
"You're going to remember me Y/N. I'll make sure of it."
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allyricas · 7 months
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there's just something so delicious about friends-to enemies-to lovers
barely teenage steve and eddie who have a devastating end to what they both thought would be a forever friendship. maybe it's a misunderstanding or maybe it's just teenage angst that felt impossible to fix in the moment.
but i am feral over the idea that the only reason steve ever became 'king steve' strutting around with tommy and carol with his aloof, semi-mean girl attitude was because of the falling out with eddie. that he did it so he didn't feel so much hurt over it. still has no idea what he did to make eddie suddenly hate him.
same with eddie. he definitely liked metal and nerdy shit all along, but maybe he only leaned into the whole 'forced conformity, it's what's killing the kids' freak persona to guard himself. as armor. because he fucking misses steve as much as he hates him. so he glares and makes snarky comments. finds his solace in DnD and his band.
they fight with words and shoulder shoves in the hallway. each of them too proud to ever talk it out and fix things. to the point that their peers don't remember that steve and eddie used to be inseparable. everyone but steve and eddie forget the obvious affection and closeness they once shared.
it takes a bunch of freshmen to put them back into each other's orbit.
it takes the upside down, a dead cheerleader and an evil wizard for them to actually get along again.
because steve is meant to hate eddie but the moment he sees the trailer and hears the word 'murder' he feels like he might throw up.
Please, god, not eddie.
only to find out he supposedly murdered chrissy cunningham. despite all the animosity between the two of them, steve knows in his soul that eddie would never kill anyone.
even when he's against a wall with sharp glass pressed to his neck, heart racing as he looks into the eyes he tries not to think about, steve knows that eddie won't actually hurt him.
steve has the urge to stay with eddie at the lake house and make sure nothing else happens to him. instead, he stops forcing himself to be an asshole towards eddie. it's exhausting and he's never truly meant it anyways. the upside-down shit is threatening the one person he hoped would never be a part of it.
it takes eddie watching steve get pulled under lover's lake and attacked by demon bats to realize that the biggest misunderstanding was of his own thirteen year old self's feelings. that he could've lost steve and he'd have never even told him the truth of why he let their friendship implode over such a ridiculous misunderstanding.
that he wanted more than friendship and that scared the hell out of him at thirteen.
he sees steve bleeding and throwing himself into danger over and over. realizes that yeah, steve harrington is a good guy. his own personal munson doctrine is fundamentally flawed and untrustworthy and he's in love with this stupidly brave man, maybe since forever.
make him pay means i'm sorry, i love you, please be safe, come back.
it takes eddie nearly dying and his steve carrying him out of hell for eddie to realize that steve never hated him either. that what eddie always views as aloofness and superiority was hurt and steve trying to deal. regardless of whatever lays in the past, steve holds him together with his hands and begs eddie to stay. whispers that he loves him, always has loved him, always will love him.
eddie thinks about all the years they lost due to teenage angst and fear. fights to keep his eyes open and stay, because steve his sobbing and begging him not to go.
and when eddie finally wakes up in the hospital, it's steve and uncle wayne next to him. steve won't leave his side, maybe ever again. neither of them with any desire to ever look at each other with anything but love.
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marthawrites · 1 month
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Could you write smut for Aemond targaryen with the prompts 17,40,44,47,53 and 54 maybe with a targaryen reader? Just something gentle, sweet and soft <3 btw I’m talking abt this prompt list
I absolutely can! Apologies for making you wait since January for this. I hope you're still around to see (and, fingers crossed) enjoy it!
"Vok" (Perfect)
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Aemond Targaryen x sister reader
Word count: 2.6k+
About: You and Aemond pledged to each other long ago. Tonight, beneath the blanket of darkness, you revel in each other's adoration.
Includes: SMUT. Featuring brother x sister incest, Aemond is soft but only to his little sister, dirty talk, female masturbation, guided masturbation, praise, unprotected vaginal sex, and a splash of breeding kink
Note: Hello lovely reader! It's been a hot minute since I've wrote Aemond - the posters and trailers have me going (affectionately) insane! Triple warning: this fic is brother x sister targcest. If you do not like that KEEP ON SCROLLING. This is my first time writing this dynamic. Reader is implied to have silver hair, pale skin, and purple eyes. Everything else is up to you! As always, I hope you enjoy this fic! ❤️
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To the realm, Aemond Targaryen was the cruel prince. Aloof, stoic, unforgiving.
To the realm, he was an ambitious and willful young man who rode Vhagar, the largest and oldest dragon in the world–the same dragon who helped Queen Visenya conquer Westeros.
To the realm, he was the second son of King Viserys. And, as such, would play the game of nobility by putting duty above love–marrying outside of his Targaryen lineage to seed dragons further into the world.
To you, his little sister and second daughter of King Viserys, he was your protector. 
Your secret.
A poorly kept secret in some corners of the castle; nosy servants and their obnoxious fucking tendencies. But, with Aemond’s less than idle threats about cutting the tongue out of anyone’s throat who would speak about it, it ended up being a well-kept secret.
The second son and second daughter of the Dragon King; who better to love, and cherish, and pledge to, than each other?
Aemond would sooner die than see you marry off to some lowly lord of a “great” House. You were the blood of Old Valyria. Everyone–no matter their feats–was lowly in comparison to you. And you, his sweet sister, deserved only the best.
Barely a year separated your ages. Neither of you remembered a life without the other.
Long before you gave your maidenhead to your brother you gave him your heart. And your heart he held.
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The night was late. These dark hours were some of the only unadulterated times you had together. Aemond kissed you slowly, passionately, gently stroking along your cheeks with his thumbs as he did. You were tangled in his bed together. You, stripped down to only your shift, and him, stripped down to only his sleep trousers. One of your shift’s thin straps kept sliding down your shoulder, and each time it did Aemond’s warm mouth kissed over the smooth lovely skin. You panted soft sounds–each feminine simper jolting right to his cock–as he lavished you in affection. 
“You’re kissing me silly, lēkia (brother). My head feels full of bees and I’m hot. So, so hot,” you whispered against his kiss-swollen mouth. “Will you not feel for yourself?” He hadn’t yet made a move to touch you where you really, truly, wanted him; something that had you whining and pouting. While his hands alternated between stroking your face and groping your body–waist, hips, thighs–yours were buried in his hair. It was all down and free. The silken sheet of it spilled over his shoulders, spilled over you, and you relished the feel of it inside your hands. Against your bare skin. “Please?”
“Please what, hāedar? (little sister)” He asked, voice mellow with just the right amount of rumble from his chest.
“Please touch me,” you answered, back naturally arching to press your soft body against the hard planes of his own.
Another low sound came from him. He pressed a warm, wide palm up the perfect curve of your back until he squeezed into the nape of your hair. “Such a pretty word from a pretty mouth. Have my kisses made you ache with need, byka zaldrīzes (little dragon)?”
“Yes.” The single word, its single syllable, rolled off your tongue before your brain even fully registered his question. You stared at him desperately. One eye was so beautiful; so ancient in its color and proclamation, just like your own. The other reflected faceted edges of the sapphire he wore in place of his missing eye. You didn’t know which was more enchanting.
“How long can you go, hm? Without me touching you?”
“W-what?”
He laughed. A rumble beneath his pale, taut chest. “How long before you succumb to madness by me not touching your perfect cunny?”
“Aemond…,” you whined. Pitiful. “Not much longer! Please, lēkia, I need you, please.”
A serpent’s grin curved his mouth and darkened his eye as he shifted positions with you. Now, he sat upright with his back against his headboard and pulled you to sit in front of him. 
You nestled between his legs, your back flush with his chest, and his stiff cock rested against the small of your back. A blush bloomed beneath your cheeks. You knew lust ran as wild in his veins as it did in yours.
“Tell me, sweet sister…,” he started, whispering by your ear. Both his hands cupped and squeezed over your breasts. Their softness melted against his palms and he groaned at the sensation. Perfect. You were so fucking perfect. “Have you touched yourself to peak before?”
A stammer replaced the little mewl in your throat. “H-how do you mean?”
He laughed again, pinching your nipples. “Mm… are you sure?”
Lust and need and fire roared in your blood to the point of almost drowning everything else out. “I d-don’t understand,” you admitted. But, it was a lie. You knew what he meant. You could only hope he’d go easy on you so you wouldn't have to admit, prove, or say you knew what he spoke of.
“Why are you playing shy with me, hāedar? I think you know exactly what I mean. There is no shame in it,” he spoke sly, hands pushing the hem of your shift up until he held the material in a fist upon your abdomen. With his other hand he tugged your smallclothes down your bare legs, tossing them off. The flats of all his fingers ghosted over your exposed cunt. Testing you. Feeling you. He hissed an inward breath. “Fuck–”, he growled. “‘Tis a good thing I was born a prince. Gods know if I had this wet little cunt between my thighs I wouldn’t get anything done. Ever. For how often I’d fuck myself silly on my own fingers.”
Aemond’s vulgarity sent a coil of tension wringing in your belly. Slick arousal pooled hotter beneath his touch. Your clit throbbed–the little pearl silently screaming for attention. “Yes,” you breathed, shuddering.
“Yes, what?”
Your older brother wasn’t going easy on you. “Yes. I… I know what you speak of. And.. yes, I do. Sometimes…,” you admitted with a wave of embarrassment.
Somehow he grew harder against the small of your back. He throbbed. “Show me,” he demanded.
“What! Aemond, no. Please, please, please no. Don’t make me show you.” Mortification replaced your previous embarrassment. Yet, your spine quivered with another rush of liquid arousal.
“I would love nothing more than to see how you bring yourself pleasure. Do you think of me when you do, byka zaldrīzes?”
You nodded. Dizziness warbled your brain. 
“Such a sweet perfect thing,” he cooed. He'd felt that nervous energy tense you. He also saw the exquisite thrum of your pulsepoint beneath your neck, too. Two sides of the same coin: carnal desire. When he spoke again it dripped with wicked passion. “Don’t be nervous, I'll guide you through it.”
It had been quite some time since you last brought yourself to climax all on your own. Aemond was always more than eager to give you pleasure. Tonight, however, something was different. Idly you wondered what it could be. Before you thought about it too much, Aemond guided your dominant hand to that delicate space between your thighs. You gasped at the sensation of your own touch. Torture never felt so divine. Your little bud sang as you circled it, rubbed over it. You sighed sweetly. “How did you make me so wet?”
It took controlled effort to not spill himself across your back at that very moment. “Spread your legs for me, princess. Let me see and hear what you’re doing.”
You obeyed. With your legs spread wider, now, it was all the easier to resume your previous motions. Flicking and rubbing over your bud felt divine–excited little sounds already spilled from your mouth. You ached inside, too, wanting–needing–to be stretched around something. The memory of Aemond's long fingers pumping into you while his thumb claimed your clit had your face hot. You couldn't reach those same spots he could. You bit your bottom lip, whimpering.
Aemond watched from above with a hungry lecherous eye. Beneath your shift he could see your breasts, slope of belly… and then further below, your creamy thighs spilled wide open. Fuck–he was so hard his back hurt. Your girlish sounds sent his desire blazing. “Your little clit is so achy, isn’t it? I know how much you like it played with,” he said by your ear. “Do you ever go inside?”
You nodded, allowing your head to fall back against his shoulder. You stayed on your pearl, still, legs tensing with bliss as it warmed and tingled your blood.
“Show me,” he growled again. “Be a good girl. And afterward? Don’t worry, I'll take care of you. Promise.” 
Without hesitation you pushed two of your fingers into your warmth. Your body squeezed around the intrusion, inner walls flexing, trying to pull them in deeper. A gasped moan left your parted lips. “I-I’ve never done this before.” You’ve never shown anyone this before is what you meant. Aemond knew what you meant.
“I know. Shh… it’s okay, I'll guide you through it.” He gently touched the top of your hand and relished your little tendons flexing with the effort of your self pleasure. He pushed–coaxing your fingers deeper, silently urging you along. More. 
Soon the wet sounds of your hand against pink swollen flesh mingled with your moans. Lewd. Dirty. You tried to stay quiet. You really did. But it felt too good, and Aemond’s hand on yours guiding you along had your toes curling. Of course he would help you. Of course he wouldn’t let you do it all on your own. “Aem..!,” you whimpered, hips rocking with your movements. “‘M close.”
“I got you,” he whispered, voice heavy.
As soon as your fingers found that little patch of hidden nerves along your walls, you weren’t able to hold on much longer. The bliss, all at once, became too much. Tension snapped in your belly as colors flashed behind your closed eyelids. Your legs trembled at the tip of your peak, and as you crested downwards Aemond held you tighter against him.
“Vok (perfect),” he said as he watched you. How perfect you were with your silver hair framing your face. How perfect you looked when ecstasy became too much. How fucking perfect your eyes were as they opened and locked on his, bright and glassy with excitement. 
You carefully pulled your fingers free and began to turn around to face him. Before you could, however, he held you tighter against him. Confusion furrowed your brow and whatever you were about to say was cut off by his impatience.
“I’m greedy, byka zaldrīzes. Go on, one more time. I know you can do it. Show me again how you peak.”
Without arguing you again settled back against him. You planted your feet along the outside of his legs, spilling your thighs open wider than they were before. You angled your hips to the perfect position and this time a third finger joined your previous two. This time you fucked yourself without shame–not that you held on to it long in the first place.
Aemond all but snarled behind you, absolutely ravenous at the sight of three of your little fingers pumping and curling up into your body. He moved a hand downward, too, and the pads of those fingers worked over your clit in time with your pumps.
“Gods! Aem–!” You quivered against him. The addition of his lascivious attention had your hips squirming. Wanton moans, no longer trying to stay quiet, had your mind blanking. Nothing existed outside of you and Aemond. Nowhere existed outside of the spaces in which your bodies touched. Climax found you faster this time. Your second orgasm had you crumbling against him. Sweat sheened your brow. Your face bloomed. Sated. You were wholly sated.
“Good girl,” he praised. “Such a good girl. Giving me exactly what I wanted,” he kissed you, stealing your lips in a kiss that had you floating all over again. You could have fallen asleep right there in his arms and been the happiest thing in the realm. Breaking away, he added, “now I’ve a promise to make up to you, hm?”
Honestly, you’d forgotten about it. But, now that he mentioned it, your belly did a silly little flop.
With great care, Aemond moved from behind you and stood. Offering a hand to you, he said, “take your clothes off and lay on your back.”
And with that, you both finally shed the last pieces of your clothing. 
Laying like he said, you leaned back on your elbows to prop yourself up to still see your brother. Spilled messy hair, tall lean body littered with nicked scars, sapphire eye on full display…hard cock blushed angry red with need. They say Targaryen’s are closer to Gods than men, and with the hearth’s orange light reflecting on his ivory form, you believed him to be a God.
Aemond thought the same about you as you laid there bathed in the moonlight and hearthlight. 
“Spread your legs for your lēkia, I want to see you.”
As soon as you did–proudly showing off the slick mess of two climaxes, Aemond pumped along his rigid length. Despite butterflies twirling in your belly, your smile up at him was purely feline.
To Aemond’s credit, his voice only broke slightly when he said, “get on your hands and knees.”
You did. You dipped your spine as low as it could comfortably go, propping your ass up for him. As much as he loved fucking you with your legs wrapped around his waist, you knew he loved this position, too. “Māzigon va, lēkia (come on, brother),” you purred. “Keep to your promise.”
In an instant one of his hands squeezed harshly into the fat of your hip while the other spread the meat of your ass apart. He planted one foot firmly on the bed, and the other stayed rooted on the ground. The position gave him more leverage, and power, and control as he loomed above you. With a flex of his entire abdomen he pushed forward; the hot stretch of your body around him had both of you gasping. “I plan on leaving a babe in your belly tonight, hāedar. That way mother will have no other choice than to wed us,” he groaned, pulling backwards only to snap his hips against the smooth underside of your cheeks once again. And again.
You fisted the sheets as Aemond fucked you. You moaned your delight at his words, nodding. “Yes, please,” you panted. “Faster,” you begged.
His thrusts were precise and brutal. The slap of your smacking skin was utterly depraved and you hated–no, loved–how it made you impossibly wetter. Aemond did too. “Already squeezing around me? Fuck–I’m not going to last much longer,” he said, strained.
You began to push back against him, meeting his thrusts halfway with a frenzied need to make him release. “Fill me. Fill me up, Aem,” you still begged, breathing heavily. 
He rutted against you with the same need–a primal haze taking over as his stones began to tighten. His fingers dented firmly into your flesh as he continued plunging in and out of you. Instinct to spill his seed built by the moment and soon he became sloppy. He grunted and growled, and with a final shove–cock buried as deep as it could be inside your walls–he spent against your body’s end. Pulse after mighty pulse emptied his spend into you. Stray strands of hair stuck to a sheen of sweat upon his forehead.
You joined him in peak; left boneless and exhausted after three orgasms. Even at the top of your bliss, and his, he never eased until you were both done.
Aemond pulled his softening length out from you and urged you to fall forward upon his bed. You followed his motion and happily laid there. Naked, glowing, and full. You reached a hand out to pull him to you. “Avy jorrāelan (i love you).”
Aemond easily settled next to you, scooping you into him. “Avy jorrāelan tolī (i love you too),” he said between slow, satisfied kisses.
-
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759 notes · View notes
plus-size-reader · 3 months
Text
Gentle
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Sandor Clegane x Plus size!reader
Word Count: 2737 words
Warnings: none
Summary: Ned Stark’s eldest daughter finding herself interested by the King’s loyal protector, and even more disenchanted by how he’s treated
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The King’s arrival in Winterfell wasn’t of much interest to you, if you were being honest.
Of course you understood that it was a great honor and that his Grace was very important to your father, but outside of that, you had no real reason to pay the caravan much mind as it moved through the streets of Winterfell.
Had it not been for the pretense of duty and honor, and more severely, the pressure of your mother’s wrath, you truly believed you would have skipped the entire affair.
You weren’t the object of their visit, after all.
As the eldest daughter of Lord Eddard Stark, you were much too old to be of much interest to the young Prince compared to your sisters, and the King only came to Winterfell with your Aunt Lyanna on the mind.
Really, you weren’t sure why you needed to attend.
Until, you found yourself staring down the traveling party of the King’s guard, and the striking presence of the man they called “the Hound”
You had heard stories of the man over the years, and you knew where the title had come from, but never could you have imagined the man before you now and that man were one in the same. He hardly struck you as some ravenous monster, even then.
…and as the days went by, you found your opinion unchanged.
You existed in Winterfell simply, a privilege afforded you by your father’s title and the love the families of the North had for the Starks.
For the most part, you did what you wanted and didn’t call too much attention to yourself, content to read on the sidelines and follow after your siblings as they grew into their own. That meant that you escaped a lot of the formalities of nobility, as no one really needed too much of your attention.
If they were looking for a Stark to talk to, you were always fairly low on the list and you liked it that way, especially given all the excitement in Winterfall over the past few days.
With Sansa entertaining the Prince, your father entertaining the King and Queen, and the charms of the North keeping the guard away, you finally had a moment to yourself which only meant one thing. You could finally finish your book.
It was all set, just as you wanted it.
The weather had yet to get so bitter cold that you couldn’t stand to be out, so you grabbed a blanket and set it in the clearing near the market, under a big tree. The septa’s rarely bothered you these days, so you should be able to get some peace and quiet.
Not that you got too far before something else caught your eye.
You had only been reading your book for a short time when you heard the familiar sing-songy tone of your sister’s voice, followed unsurprisingly by the nasally pitch of Prince Joffrey.
They were to be married following this trip, and you knew she was excited. You could tell by the way she skipped lightly as she walked, and how she hung on his every word.
You had never been in love yourself, but you had to imagine that was what it looked like. Perhaps that was why you found yourself watching them as they walked, or maybe it had more to do with the Hound, loyal as always, who was trailing behind them steadily.
He was an interesting man, you’d decided.
Even as he walked, he studied the world around him as if he wasn’t a part of it, rather that he was peering in at it from the outside. You felt that you could relate, in some way, as you had always been that way.
They’d chastised you for being a dreamer as a girl. The Septa would take your books and keep them from you, your mother would beg you to engage in your duties as a lady and even Robb and Theon teased you.
Your head was always far away and even now, you had managed to keep it that way. While other women your age married and had heirs for unimpressive Lords, you remained in your father’s homeland.
A place where you could keep your books and your dreams, without having to endure the ugliness.
Not that ugliness was really the problem in the first place.
You were certain that some found the Hound ugly in all his violence and impropriety, but you couldn’t dare count yourself among them. Even now, as you stared at him over your bound paper novel, you saw nothing short of a dream like all the others.
It wasn’t even something you could truly understand, if you had any desire to try. There was just a softness to him, a quiet contemplation that made you feel as if no harm would ever come to you.
That wasn’t a feeling you’d known before now, as that was one of the things the North had never really had. Your father and brothers would rather die than let something or someone hurt you, you knew that, but it wasn’t so simple.
The comfort his presence held went beyond any physical threat or danger, it was almost warm.
Not that you would have ever ventured to admit it.
After all, you had never even spoken to the man and if you tried to explain the way you were feeling to anyone, they would surely have you committed. The hound was a lot of things, but none would have called him warm.
None outside of you that was.
You continued your staring for quite some time, only occasionally looking away from the sight before you to mindlessly turn the page in your book. You imagined you may have sat there all evening if you remained uninterrupted.
However, when your attention returned to the imposing form of the King’s dog across the way to find him already looking at you, the illusion fell away entirely.
Surely he thought you were demented.
In the entire time he and the King’s guard had been in Winterfell, you had yet to speak a word to a one of them but that didn’t mean he was unfamiliar with you. Every time he turned around, he found you sitting somewhere over his shoulder, that same book perched in your lap.
Anyone else may have just brushed you off, assuming you were a bit out there as your family always had, but Sandor couldn’t quite do that.
After all, he had grown used to the weary glances and fearful whispers between people as he passed, but no one had ever paid him so much mind as you seemed to be.
Naturally he was curious.
No one had voluntarily spent that much time looking at him in all his life, and he needed to know what it was about you that was different.
You tensed the moment you noticed his attention, not daring to look away from the weathered pages beneath your fingers, not when you heard him nearing where you sat and certainly not when he stopped at your side.
Neither of you spoke, and you weren’t even sure if you drew a single breath, but he certainly did as he waited. Waited for what he wasn’t sure, but it just seemed to be the thing to do.
As if you would somehow explain yourself if he stood in your presence long enough.
Though, after a long moment passed between you without so much as a glance from you, he decided to just end the torment for you both.
There would be no sense in just standing here all evening.
“Why do you stare so much?” he wondered aloud, his voice just as gruff as it always was, though you caught something else hidden there too. Just beneath the surface, hiding beneath the walls he’d built hugh within himself.
It almost sounded like a sort of nervousness, though you would have imagined him incapable of something so common.
You didn’t answer at first.
Whether it was due to the humiliation of being caught that held your tongue or the nerves of facing down such an imposing man on your own, he wasn’t sure. All Sandor knew for sure was that this was one of the strangest interactions he’d ever had.
If only he knew.
The real reason for your silence wasn’t some twisted interest or shame but because there was no real answer at all. At least not one you’d confidently admit while those brown eyes had you locked in a stare.
You hadn’t meant it to be disrespectful, of course, because the nature of your admiration couldn’t be farther from distaste. However, to a man like Sandor, that was exactly what it looked like.
…What it felt like.
Naturally, after a life of rejection, Sandor assumed that your staring was like that of every else when they looked at him. He assumed you were disgusted by him, and his grotesque face, or perhaps that you were afraid.
He hoped you weren’t afraid.
In any case, he never could have imagined that you would answer him in the way you did, even if it took you a moment to summon the courage to string any words together at all.
“I suppose I’m interested in you” you decided finally, twisting your face up slightly at the way that must have sounded.
It wasn’t quite right, of course, though it wasn’t entirely wrong either.
You were interested in him, but that seemed too simply a phrasing, like all the gravity and sentiment was missing even still.
Sandor only grunted in reply after a brief pause, his gaze drifting across the market, watching as the surrounding northerners studied your interaction, only to drop their eyes when they met his.
They all feared him, and they were right too, because they understood what he was and what he was capable of. Though, maybe that was another thing that you had done since he arrived that was unique to you.
Never once had you looked away from him.
You had never shrunk away or grimaced as they did, even at a time like this when anyone else would have run for the hills. It was certainly new, even he couldn’t be so stubborn as to ignore that.
“What’s so interesting about me?” he wondered, not daring to move closer or join you as you sat, but not moving further away either. Even though it felt wrong to speak freely with an unmarried noble woman like you, it really wasn’t.
You certainly didn’t think so, and you believed that anyone else would agree.
If anything, you were simply making conversation while he did his duty, watching over the Prince and his future bride.
Now, it was your turn to pause, regarding the words on the page only a moment more before you closed it, and discarded it in the snowy grass.
“We don’t have men like you here,” you allowed, considering his imposing frame as he stood above you.
Though you had only seen him from afar until now, at his impressive height and with your current low position, Sandor seemed even larger than he had before. Still, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be frightened by him, which had to have been because he wasn’t frightening in the first place.
The rest of the realm may have treated him like a monster but you hardly believed that made him one.
You could tell in the way he glanced down at you, surprise painting his features, that he wanted to argue with you but he faltered, because he didn’t understand. He wanted to tell you that there were violent men everywhere, and that most were just better at hiding it, but somehow, he knew that wasn’t what you meant.
No matter how diluted that may have made you seem in the moment.
“Gentle,” you clarified, watching as his mind tried to pin down exactly what you were trying to say, because the most obvious answer just wasn’t possible. “Men here are all the same. They’re either ruthless fighters or cowards and fools. On rare occasions, they may be both but neither are gentle as you are”
That was it.
There were the words you had been trying to find before, but it still didn’t feel as if he understood, or perhaps he just didn’t feel as if you had any right to be the one saying them.
After all, you had only ever been in the North and you hardly knew anything about him, or many other men for that matter. What real ground did you have to stand on when it came to this?
“Trust me little girl, there’s nothing gentle about a man like me” he scoffed, washing away any tenderness you’d been feeling in a moment.
Perhaps he was right, but you didn’t think so.
While it was true that there were no other men like him in the North, you had seen your fair share of guarded men hiding from the truth about themselves. Normally they were trying to convince themself that they were braver than they were, or stronger, but it looked the same.
It made them look small.
“It’s in your eyes. You think I can’t see it because you don’t, but it’s there. It’s the same reason you’re still having this conversation with me, even though the Prince snuck off with Sansa” you countered, gesturing to the missing space they’d previously occupied through the pass.
If he’d truly been keeping an eye on them, and nothing more, he wouldn’t have let them out of his sight.
“Maybe I just want to know what’s wrong with you? After all, I thought the future Lady of Winterfell would be a bit more sociable” he argued, almost poking fun at you in a way you hadn’t seen coming.
Which was a welcome break in that untouchable armor of his.
“I am hardly the future Lady of Winterfell. That title will belong to the wife of my brother Robb,” you informed, gathering your skirts to rise to your feet, only to find his hand outstretched to you, a further invitation behind the curtain.
You took it as gracefully as you could and rose to your full height, though you remained entirely dwarfed by the large man at your side.
“And I have never really taken to being sociable, that’s true. It’s my mother’s greatest upset” you teased, straightening out your gown and taking in the full sight of the Hound in all his glory.
He looked small, if that was even physically possible, as you admired him with those eyes of yours. If you thought his gaze was pointed, you had no idea how he felt beneath the heavy weight of your own.
“You’re a strange little thing, aren’t you?” he grumbled, his question hanging in the air untouched for a moment as you studied him, no longer caring how strange it may have looked to anyone else.
You had been right.
He was anything but ugly up close, and it was a tragedy that so few got to gaze upon him in this manner.
“I suppose. Perhaps that’s why I remain unmarried” you suggested, subconsciously hinting at what you knew to be your own greatest flaw, at least in the eyes of your people and your house.
At the very least, the Hound had been able to make something of himself outside of being a husband or son. He could be a warrior, and he was, one of the most fearsome warriors you’d ever seen.
As a woman, you had never been afforded that kind of privilege and you never would. As far as your mother was concerned, you would live and die a spinster, and there was little you could do to change that.
“Perhaps. Or maybe this place really is full of cowards and fools, as you said” he muttered, sparing you one more heady glance before turning his back to you, his attention fully on the clearing ahead.
That was it.
In all the days you’d been admiring him and making a desperate attempt to understand exactly what lay beneath that shell of his, that was all he had for you.
…and you couldn’t have been happier, because for the first time in a long time, you found yourself looking forward to what the days ahead would hold.
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tteokdoroki · 6 months
Note
aali my beloved would you be willing to share some more thots regarding domineering consent-king-kiri,,,no pressure at all I am just delighted by the concept!! If nothing else I am holding your hand making microwave noises because this tickles my brain muah
☆༉ — EIJIROU KIRISHIMA. consent and condescension.
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about. your wish is my command beautiful anon. this is definitely yuzuya adjacent LDKAKS !!
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact. smut, praise kink, consent heavy, condescension, scratching, afab!reader, soft dom/pro hero!kirishima.
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“i only want to do this if it’s something you want.” kirishima says, his voice so quiet that it’s barely above a whisper. there’s a huskiness to it, as though he’s been holding back for so long that his tether and tie to sanity threatens to snap. the very simple fact makes a shiver run down your spine and shoot right between your legs. 
kirishima let’s put a condescending coo as he shifts to sit with you on the bed, prying apart your shaky thighs to catch a whiff of your hot cunt, a view of how juices run between your folds like golden syrup that makes you shine. you’re eijirou kirishima’s favourite sweet treat. 
“poor baby, if i hadn’t come any sooner, who knows what would have happened to you.” his voice drips to lower tones that turn on the sex signals in your brain — and as you whine out for more, the corner of the red head’s lips quirk up into a sly smile.
“all alone and unable to cum. well, don’t you worry. i’ve got you now.” you see, he knows you better than you know yourself. that you can’t get off without his thick fingers or his fat cock, and how frustrated you get when you can’t touch yourself in the same way that he does.
that’s why you called him at work, with a wobble in your saccharine voice and squelch from your cunt echoing down the line. you need eijirou.
you hardly notice how fast he strips, too dizzy and needy to speak your mind or even think. your level of desire to be fucked dumb by your man overpowers any logical reasoning you may have. taking hold of the globes of your ass, the mountainous man drags you towards him, pressing right up against your throbbing mound — looking down at you as if you’re the most beautiful, pathetic thing he’s ever seen.
you’ve not a clue as to how much you affect eijirou, with your big wet eyes and shaky hips as you rut into him for any kind of friction. he wants to ruin you and cherish you all at once, fighting with the two halves of him that join together and make him the person that he is. the hero that protects people, the man who loves you, the other that has such depraved thoughts about you. his sweet little thing.
“i’ve been dying to take you since the moment you called, fuck you against your cute little sheets, have your adorable ankles and frilly socks hangin’ over my shoulders….” eijirou’s next move is to tease your wet little slit, tapping his milky cockhead against your swollen clit repeatedly until you’re jolting and twitching from the slight streams of pleasure. “is it okay for me to touch you like this? i really want to but… your needs always come first to me.” 
the question is masked with a patronising kindness in an attempt to hide the red head’s deepest and darkest dreams. if he truly wanted to, kirishima could have plugged your hole full of his monster-like girth and fucked you until that tight, unused hole of yours was coated in his cum. yet, he treats you (the object of his affections and desires), as though you’re a porcelain doll threatening to shatter under the weight of his touch.
the cracks begin to show and the dam begins to break. your pretty face crumples with ecstasy while eijirou pushes his length through your slick pussy, laughing breathily at your arousal that clings to every spiralling blue vein that decorated his shaft. it jumps against the pleasure bud tucked away between your folds. 
you sniffle and his heart breaks for you. it does nothing to calm the flames of desire burning at eijirou’s healthy lungs — blackening them.  
“e-eiji—!”
“‘m gonna put it in now, i know, i know, sweetheart. i gotta hurry it up,” he starts, tutting down at you and your clenching cunt as he hits his hips forward — pushing his bulbous tip past the tight ring of muscle at your entrance. “you’ve been so good, sweetheart. waiting for me to get home, so you could get fucked — i just don’t wanna hurt you.” 
he brushes the pads of his thumbs over your body trembling beneath him. over your pebbling nipples, so hard they could cut diamonds because of the cold air. over your curves, your tummy and navel — every perfectly imperfect part of you. and when he reaches your thighs, they’re folded into your chest so he can give you exactly what you want. 
“oh, little one. you’re so tight, and warm around me. fuck.” eijirou is the one who hiccups this time, gripping the sheets above your head while your warm, ribbed walls grip his cock the further he pushes into you.  “so soft too, i can’t get enough of you. got me thinkin’ about you all the time.” 
he starts thrusting then, forceful but fluid like a rushing river of ecstasy. eijirou pins you to the bed below, giving you no room to wiggle away and the only option being to take everything that he gives to you. his balls clapping against the curve of your ass, his harsh moans in your ear and tip bullying your g-spot before you can even register the sensation blooming in your lower tummy. there’s no room to breathe or think while he fucks you. like he hates you, all while loving you.
“i love your pretty face. how it looks when you take me. the way your brows furrow and your soft lips part when you moan for me. can you take it? just a little more for me.” the surge of praise you receive from eijirou is like a storm that angrily hits the shore. you feel like you’re drowning, clawing at his back to drag yourself to shore while he pounds you to the high heavens. your body jolts up the bed at every one of eijrou’s thrusts — contrasting with the gentle, wet kisses he peppers across your face. 
each sweet word dipped in white sugar has you pliant and mailable under kirishima like freshly made candy. he praises you and your hips rise from the arousal soaked sheets to match his rhythm, sex spasming around him. “holy fucking shit. oh little one…so sweet and wet, hm? so pliant.” eijirou leans over you, shielding you from the world, and  liick at your neck, humming in satisfaction at your whistle tone moans. “you were just aching for me to get you like this, right little one? your knees pressed to your chest and my cock…nice and snug against your insides. you don’t wanna let me go, do you?” 
you promptly shake your head, your pretty bambi eyes fluttering shut while your body thrashes and shakes from the pleasure he feeds you — piece by piece.. “e-eiji…p-please, i need it. i c-can’t—!” 
the red head squishes your cheeks together, grunting impatiently and pressing on until his cock is pressing comfortably against your womb. “oh you poor baby, i need to give it to you just as bad as you want it… but,” the rough pads of his fingers sink into your supple cheeks as he turns your face to look at him. “i need you to look at me first. look me in the eye, sweetheart. show me how badly you want it. you’re so pretty when you do it like that, you know.” 
a wet whimper bubbles up on your lips, cherry bitten from where they’ve been caught between your teeth. they echo between your sweet slicked bodies and mingle with the saccharine syllables of kirishima’s words, as condescending as they might be. that with his domineering presence and constant stimulation of all your pleasure spots has you a ruined mess beneath him.
“i’m gonna make you cum. i have to make you cum, if it’s the last thing i do, little one.” eijirou promised lazily, circling his hips in a slow grind just he can drag out your pleasure for a little bit longer — torture you underneath him so he can keep on seeing your pretty face. he seals the promise with a sloppy kiss, sucking on your saliva soaked tongue until you’re begging him for air. “you want that too, right?”
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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wordstome · 6 months
Text
kingdom come - i
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king König x princess & assassin reader
2nd person, no y/n, she/her pronouns, afab reader, romance, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, kind of age gap because König has been king for a good chunk of time but it's not really much of a factor, fantasy/medieval setting, magic exists but it's the creepy kind ordinary people don't fuck with
3.5k words
tw: swearing and König gets a boner. what's new
[NEXT]
GUESS WHO'S BACK ON HER BULLSHIT HAHAAA IT'S MEEE STARTING A NEW SERIES/AU AGAINNNnnnnn. Don't fret, I'm still working on university au! I just started watching The Great (the tv show) and I was like hmm. I should get back to that one idea I had.
p.s. When I mention a "mask" on König, imagine a sort of phantom of the opera, Brahms kinda thing. He isn't always wearing the hood.
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Outside, the bells are tolling. Back home, you’ve only ever heard church bells ringing to rally the troops. But here, in these foreign lands, they ring for a royal wedding.
You're wearing a truly massive dress shaped like a pastry. It's a work of art, to be sure, but it leaves you feeling restrained and vulnerable. You should be wearing armor into war—hard boiled leather and curtains of steel rings, not delicate lace and silken ribbons. You're walking into a battle: you would have liked to be able to bend forward further than thirty degrees.
You're at least glad you don't have to wear a veil—it would have been borderline unbearable if you had your vision restricted on top of everything else. It does mean, however, that you can see him standing at the end of the aisle, waiting for you.
A gigantic man with a soldier's physique, wearing a mask that covers more than half his face. Just the sight of him sends a a chill down your spine.
The officiant’s voice booms out over the assembly, but you don’t hear any of it. The sound washes over you, distant and echoing, as if your head is underwater. Your whole being is on alert as you tilt your face upwards to look at the only part of your soon-to-be-husband that you can see properly: his eyes.
They bore into you as if they're looking straight into your soul. As if they're revealing all of your secrets. For a moment, you feel disarmed, even though you can still feel the calming, solid presence of your trusty dagger against your thigh.
As the officiant finishes the wedding vows, he offers his hand to you, his touch shockingly gentle.
You steel your resolve and stare resolutely back at him as you place your hand in his, and the officials begin to bind them together with velvet cords. You remind yourself who you are, where you are, and what you must do.
You remind yourself that you have to kill him as they tie the final knot.
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The woods are foreboding, home to a darkness that seems infinite and all-consuming. The heavy old trees that surround the palace grounds shut out most sunlight and all moonlight, and sometimes it feels as if the forest itself is a living, conscious thing brimming with a dangerous unknown. It's proven to be an effective line of defense in the past: citizens don’t dare to trespass on the royal grounds as it is, but an extra deterrent never hurt anybody.
Except perhaps enemy soldiers. But they learn their lesson quickly.
To you, however, the woods are comforting. You’ve spent many lonely nights amongst these trees, training until your body was sore all over. These trunks have withstood many a misplaced blow, these exposed roots have been your downfall many a time, and this mossy undergrowth has cushioned your bruises during many a tumble and fall.
Tonight, however, there is no training. No combat, no groans of pain, no thuds against wood or flesh. You are blanketed in quiet, something sorely needed as you contemplate the days to come.
This is it. The task you’ve trained for all your life is here. Every sore joint and pulled muscle, every tear-soaked pillowcase, every scolding in Father’s office has led to this. Sometimes it seemed as if the day would never come, as if years of reading, shooting, riding and sparring would be for naught. Though your breath rattles the leaves around you, you feel as if you’ve been holding your breath ever since Father broke the news. This is happening.
You leave in a few hours, as soon as the sun comes over the horizon. Your maids have already packed your luggage—you had to enlist their help after it became too difficult to pick what to bring and what not to bring. If all went well, you’d be back in this room in a few weeks. But what could you afford to bring? What did you need for your sanity? What minute details of an object could compromise your position?
Luckily, Calliope, your most trusted lady-in-waiting, was able to step in when she found you sitting on your rug, clutching your set of cloth dolls—the only toys you’d ever owned as a child that weren’t made with murder in mind—and suggest you take a breath of fresh air. You don’t know where you’d be without her, honestly. You may be your father’s pride and joy of a perfectly well-rounded monarch and killing machine, but you would never have gotten here without her by your side.
You sigh and lean your head against the thick limb you’re lying on. If you didn’t already know you’d wake up with a complaining spine that would then have to spend days riding a horse, you’d go to sleep right here, right now. The woods are your home, these trees your solace. You’ll miss it terribly, as the only place you can truly avoid all servants, generals, teachers, and parents.
Well. Parent.
But as with all things—Father’s rare good mood, your training days, peacetime—the sweet, silent embrace of the forest can’t last forever.
Reluctantly, you give the tree one last pat and climb down, making the trudge back to your room so you can at least attempt to catch a few winks of sleep.
It takes quite a few days of travel to get to your destination. You arrive in the empire next door's capital city saddle-sore and on edge. This was the snakes’ nest, the heart of the beast.
And yet…people are happy.
The mood in your hometown is far quieter and more grim—your country has been at war with this one for as long as you can remember, and yet the contrast could not be more vast. Back home, people walk directly from place to place, and don’t make eye contact with each other. Here, children play unsupervised, outdoor markets overflow with people, and windows are thrown wide open as neighbors chat.
You don’t know how to feel. The previous king here was a ruthless conqueror, building an empire by invading neighboring countries and forcing their monarchs to yield—or killing them when they were defiant. Your own land had only escaped being absorbed into the empire by employing rigorous military discipline and strict wartime measures. Yet here, in the heart of the empire, you would never be able to tell it was a nation at war.
And now you’re marrying the king’s son. The current king. The one they call König. So little is known about him that his entire existence is shrouded in rumor: that the hood he wears conceals a monstrous, disfigured face, that he plotted his father’s demise, that his first wife died not of childbirth, but was assassinated in quiet due to being unable to provide an heir.
You don’t plan on sticking around long enough to find out if the rumors are true.
To your surprise, your reception by the people feels more curious than hostile. You’d expected a bit of resistance, or at least a few dirty looks, considering you're the princess of the country they've been at war with for years. But whatever König has told them has been far more charitable than you anticipated.
Your arrival at the palace is greeted by a flurry of activity. Your entourage scatters to put affairs in order, but Calliope and a small contingent of guards follows you into the main hall. Not that you need them—but you need to keep up appearances. No one outside your family’s most tight-knit circle knows you can throw a punch, much less have an assassin’s training.
You don’t feel in the least bit prepared to meet your fiancé—and target—face to face fresh off a days-long journey, but you’re ushered into the main hall anyway. It seems your task has already begun whether you like it or not.
“Ah, princess. Welcome to my humble home.” You hear him before you see him, his voice heavy with an accent. There’s something a bit charming about it, you think—before the sight of him shakes some sense back into you.
He’s huge. He towers over even his own palace guard, broad with muscle, and moves with a deadly raw power even in this nonthreatening setting.
When his father still ruled, before the current peacetime, stories of the empire’s prodigal heir on the frontlines served as frightening bedtime story and a terrifying cautionary tale for the nation’s soldiers. A beast in a hood who fought with the strength of ten men.
You stand your ground as he approaches you. The hood, then, is real—although the stories were so consistent about it that it was never really in question, was it? What the stories had left out were his eyes—striking and green, piercing into your soul as he bends to kiss the back of your hand. It’s an odd sensation that sends shivers racing up your spine.
“The pleasure is mine, your majesty,” you respond, a hint of apprehension in your tone. Of course you had been expecting some form of courtly courtesy, but for some reason you hadn’t expected him to be such a…gentleman. A part of you had been expecting some feral animal, needing to be put down.
"I'm sure you must be exhausted from your journey," he says. "I hope you will find your rooms to your liking." Something about his demeanor is almost...bored? As if greeting his future wife is just another task he's obligated to complete.
He doesn't join you for dinner that night, which is odd. The servants inform you that he's taking care of some urgent business. You hope that your dejection is taken as disappointment that you won't have an opportunity to get to know your fiancé. You are, but not the way people may think.
After all, getting to know your target is half the battle.
You're left to your own devices the next day. König, you're informed, won't be available. That urgent business from last night appears to be an ongoing situation.
Fine by you. You could use some time to prepare.
You spend the day wandering the palace, familiarizing yourself with the grounds and plotting an escape route. You're halted on your brisk survey when you stumble upon a...garden?
Unlike the perfectly manicured hedges outside the palace, or the groomed efficiency of the kitchen gardens, this place is small. Quiet. A little overgrown, but clearly taken care of. The grass is long and soft, dappled in sunshine. Flowers burst forward, crowded around trellises spiraling with vines.
Part of you feels like a trespasser in this private little sanctum, but another part of you is set at ease by the idle tranquility of this place. You pause, feeling a pang of homesickness. It reminds you of the forest: wild in its own way, but gentle and welcoming at the same time.
Something at the corner of your vision catches your eye. A bush bursting forward with round, dark little berries.
Nightshade. Deadly nightshade, in fact. What is this doing in this peaceful little garden? You move forward to examine them closer.
"You shouldn't be here."
You whirl around to find König standing behind you. You had been so absorbed by the garden that you hadn't detected his approach.
Your cheeks burn. You've only been here a day, and already you're letting your guard down. This won't do.
"My apologies, your majesty. I got....lost."
You hold your breath as he draws near. His expression is unreadable—not that you can see most of it, anyway. But when you meet his gaze, you can tell he's sizing you up.
"This is quite a long way to wander."
Shit, is he suspicious? Thinking fast, your brain supplies the best answer you can muster.
"Should a future queen not know the palace she is to live in?"
"Mmm. You make a fair point."
Before you can say or do anything further, he's standing right in front of you. "That's nightshade, you know." You can feel him watching you, assessing your reaction. "Not many can recognize it."
"I..." You can't very well tell him that you know what nightshade looks like because you're an expert in deadly poisons. "I had been wondering what they were."
"I see." He leans forward and plucks a berry off the bush, rolling it between his fingers. "Have you ever tasted one?"
Does he know? Is that a threat? You can't read his expression behind that goddamned mask of his. You stare at him, hoping you look dumbfounded instead of panicked.
"No? They're quite sweet, you know." He holds it out to you. "Care to try one?"
"Your Majesty, I—"
"Don't look so nervous." If you had ever thought he looked frightening before, there's something uncanny about the half-smile that he gives you now. "I didn't expect you to say yes." Before you can say or do anything, he pops the berry in his mouth.
You're too stunned to do anything but watch as he chews for a moment and swallows. One berry won't kill him, but you're more concerned about why he's doing this. Is he trying to intimidate you?
"This was my mother's garden." He gestures to the general surroundings. "I spent a lot of time here as a child. Peaceful, isn't it?"
You let out a tiny sigh of relief now that the conversation appears to be moving on. "Yes. Quite."
"It's always been a place to get away. The first time I ate a nightshade berry was right here, when I was six. I was violently sick for weeks." His tone is a little too light for someone describing being poisoned as a child, and it's unnerving.
"That's when I learned to be careful of things that are too sweet. A good lesson to learn, don't you think?" He walks towards you, and you brace yourself for anything.
He stops next to you, you facing one way and him the other. "Take care then, princess. I will see you tomorrow."
You stare resolutely ahead. "Yes."
And hopefully you won't see him for much longer after that.
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Fuck. You forgot about this part.
You had been prepared for this, of course, but you only realize now that you hadn't been mentally prepared. It wasn't until Calliope was helping you undress that you remembered what usually happens between a man and a woman the night of the wedding.
You pace the room, stewing and plotting, getting increasingly antsy before the door swings open and the man himself comes strutting into the bedroom.
"You look like a cornered deer." You hear König shut the door behind him, but you don't turn around.
"I've never done this before." Mentally, you curse yourself for the quaver in your voice.
"Well. Tonight won't be your first."
"What?" You do turn at that, watching him carelessly shed layers all across the room between swigs of his drink.
"I have no interest in bedding you. We do have to sleep in the same room for appearances, though." He plucks a grape from a cluster sitting on a side table and throws it up in the air, catching it with his mouth.
You haven't been in his presence much in the past few days, but each time you have, something about your encounters with him have shaken you up and set you on edge. Somehow, he's kept you on your toes even with a limited presence. Your meeting in the garden was dizzying and confusing, the ceremony set you on high alert. And now, he's thrown you another curveball.
It feels almost too easy. He's just going to go to sleep in the same room as you? No fanfare? "You don't want to...consummate the marriage?"
"You sound upset." He cocks an eyebrow at you. "Were you hoping to?"
"No!" Your face feels hot as he gives you that lopsided half-smile again, more like a smirk this time.
"That's a shame. I prefer fucking willing participants, you see." He drapes himself over the elaborate chaise lounge opposite the bed.
"Are you usually this vulgar?" you retort.
"I see no reason for pretense. We're married, after all." Curiously, he hasn't taken his mask off. Does he sleep in it? Or is he only keeping it on because you're here?
You feel silly now, dressed in a flimsy little silken thing, wrapped up like a present for a brute who won't even touch you. Considerate of him, you suppose. Not that it will matter for very long.
"Sleep well then, hmm? You should be well rested for your first day as queen tomorrow." There's a dangerous gleam in his eye, but it disappears so quickly you wonder if you had imagined it.
"Yes," you say, sitting on the bed while not taking your eyes off of him. "Sleep well."
You give it a few hours, just to be safe. A few hours of laying awake staring at the ceiling. A few hours of watching as moonlight bathes the room in silver light. A few hours of watching him.
The deepening darkness casts sharp shadows across his face, making him seem even more inhuman. What do bloodthirsty emperors dream of? Dominating the weak? Slaughtering the innocent? Conquering women? You shudder. Best not to know.
It's well past midnight when you slowly, quietly get up and pull your dagger from its hidden holster. One downwards thrust, and you're going home. One quick motion, and all of this is over.
It's a little anticlimactic, you think. But this is for the best. For you. For your people. For your family.
Light as a feather, you straddle him, hovering over him just enough so that your weight doesn't wake him. You try not to think about how intimate this position is, and remind yourself that this is the best way to prevent him from getting up or struggling, should your first strike not end him immediately. Which it will, of course.
You take a deep breath as you position the blade right over his heart, calming the fluttering anxiety in your mind. The beginning of a new chapter of your life begins now.
You plunge the dagger downwards.
In an instant, König's eyes fly open. Before you can react at all, his hand has seized your wrist in an iron grip, the tip of your dagger a hair's length from his chest.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" He purrs. "A little assassin?"
You grit your teeth and attempt to overpower him: you're so, so close. But his strength is so overwhelming that you can't even get the tip of the dagger to make contact. Panic starts to set in. This isn't good. This is disastrous, actually. He was supposed to be asleep!
You attempt to pull away, to get away, to do anything, but it's no use. "You don't seem surprised," you spit.
"It's not every day your most bitter enemy offers you his daughter's hand in marriage as a truce," he replies, clear amusement in his voice. Is he enjoying this? "Of course I smelled a rat. You must think me a fool."
"No." Yeah, you kind of had.
"Lying ill suits you, princess." You cry out as he jams his fingers into the tendons in your wrist, forcing you to release the dagger. You watch, helplessly, as he picks it up with his other hand and turns it over, studying it in the moonlight.
"What a delicate little knife," he muses. In your hand, it's a sizeable weapon. But held in his fingers it looks small, harmless. To your dismay, he then proceeds to chuck it at the opposite wall, the blade sticking itself solidly in between two panels.
"You knew?" you ask, a tremor in your traitorous voice.
"Oh, I suspected. You had me disappointed for a while—I thought you would have made an attempt well before this." He lets out a deep chuckle that sends terror through you. "For a moment I even thought that you were as you presented: just some poor little lamb, a peace offering given up to the slaughter." His eyes narrow behind the mask. "I am glad to see that you have proven to be much more interesting than that."
"Interesting?" Out of all the reactions you would have expected him to have, this is not one of them. Fear, anger, even immediate violence. Not...interest.
"You have no idea," he says. Your eyes widen as he you feel his hand run up your thigh.
That's not the only thing you feel, though. He shifts a bit underneath you, and it's then that the earlier flush to your cheeks returns in full force. Is he...hard?!
"If you're going to kill me, then get on with it," you ground out through your teeth.
"Little one, if I had wanted you dead immediately, I would have already pinned you down and snapped your neck. No, you've given me a gift: a gift I intend to cherish." You shiver as he slides a hand up your thigh. "A challenge."
"Is this a game to you?" You're not sure if your breath is running ragged from fear or anger, now.
"I could end this at any time, you know." You gasp involuntarily as a hand closes around your throat. "But that would be no fun, now would it?"
"You are a fool, then." You stare at him defiantly, even as his grip constricts your breathing. "Because I will kill you."
His eyes dance with some mad glee. "That's what I like to hear."
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Hiiiiiiiii besties. I've been chewing on the idea of a medieval royalty sort of au since before Shrike, and I came up with this premise like. At least a year or two ago, before I was even in the COD fandom. So I'm glad to finally be making some real headway on it! I have no idea how many parts this is going to have. I have a lot of plot planned for it, so we're just gonna have to see where the vibes take us!
I'd like to thank @danibee33 my angel as always. I bounced a lot of royal/medieval/king König ideas off of her, some of which I still may use, but I changed the plot drastically when I had an epiphany a week or two ago. Hope you like this one babe <3 Also, thank you @kneelingshadowsalome and @gremlingottoosilly for their historical/time period aus. Your fics gave me a real kick in the ass to finish this.
Also shoutout to Pedro Pascal fans? I stumbled upon some breathtakingly kinky fanfiction on this beloved hellsite featuring the Mandalorian, and thought: you know what? If people can proudly write and publish the nastiest, most shameless smut I've ever read, then I can push through whatever impostor syndrome, perfectionist embarrassment I have with my work and get it done.
As usual, please let me know your feedback! I'm trying out a bit of a different characterization for König (not that much different, he's still our beloved violent horny maniac), and I want to know what people think.
I'm also going to be using my taglist again. If you were tagged here and don't want to be tagged anymore, please let me know! And if you would like to be added to the taglist, drop a reply <3
@crowbird @poohkie90 @cumikering @iytatsworld @papaver-decervicatus @anxietyrain @riotakire @ax0lotly @cookiepie111 @kacchasu @no1runawaymilkdad @chthonian-spectre @backwards-readings @yxllowtxpe @garbau @hexqueensupreme @queenthorin1 @violetstyless @her-majesty-theking @vegan-peppermint @peonytarian @ghostslittlegf @euuuuuuun @e1x03 @kokonoiwife @deaddainish @dragonfang @teehee-47 @catluvwr
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aimbutmiss · 3 months
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Mihawk was surprised when Crocodile came up to him with the idea of Cross Guild, which was surprising in itself, because it took a lot to get such reaction out of the stoic man. Mihawk's initial reaction was to assume Crocodile had finally gone mad after his fall from grace. But it didn't take him long to see the full picture. Buggy's debt and the sheer amount of men who adored him in his crew...he could be used easily and efficiently. But Mihawk didn't care about all that. He wasn't a businessman like Crocodile, he didn't care about money or power like him. But despite this, he still agreed. There were two main reasons why he did so:
1- He was bored. With Zoro and Perona gone, he was left on his own on his dreary island. (No offence to the humandrills, but they weren't exactly good company) At first he was quite happy about his situation, he did value his solidarity after all. However, that bliss didn't last very long. He quickly found his usual routine to be repetitive and dreadful, more and more as the days passed. Losing his warlord status right after triggered a fuse in his mind. He could do anything he wanted (not that the government ever got in the way of him doing as he pleased) but he realised that he didn't know what it was that he wanted. Crocodile's offer reminded him of the offhand conversations he used to have with Shanks at dirty bars, which brings us to the second point:
2- He was very intrigued by Buggy. Shanks babbled a lot after he had a bit too much to drink, more than usual at least. But he would still have some level of awareness no matter how drunk he was, never letting his guard completely down. This was not the case with Mihawk. They were close friends, something even more at some point, so Shanks felt comfortable enough to open the dam holding back his words around him. Mihawk appreciated this, not only because it was a huge show of trust, but also because of how entertaining his stories were. Stories about wars and victories, the Pirate King and Dark King Rayleigh... It was all so intriguing. But everything somehow always circled back around to one man: Buggy. Mihawk had never heard of him before, but if Shanks' words were to go by he must have been truly exceptional. Shanks used to have this lovesick look on his face whenever he talked about his old friend, sometimes even straight up sobbing in front of him. This man, who was on Gold Roger's crew and made Shanks fall head over heels in love, perplexed Mihawk. How could such a man exist, hiding his existence for so long? Oh, how he longed to meet him.
Unfortunately for Mihawk, their first meeting didn't go according to plan. Marineford was a mess. He wasn't very interested in the government's goals, he just wanted to see how far straw hat would go. That boy's potential shone so bright, it didn't surprise him one bit that red hair also saw it. What he didn't expect at all though, was to run into the Buggy from Shanks' stories, who was being used like a human shield by straw hat. So, it didn't phase Mihawk one bit when his sword cut straight through the man but he quickly put himself back together. The blue hair, the red nose, this couldn't possibly be anyone else. Mihawk had a certain image of Buggy in his mind, but that all shattered at one look at this man-baby in front of him. There was no way this was the man Shanks was praising left and right, right? Or perhaps, Shanks' stories were always tinted with rose coloured glasses and very far from the truth. How disappointing. But still, something didn't sit well in Mihawk's mind. There must have been some amount of truth to the words he heard. He wanted to see more, but unfortunately didn't have the opportunity to catch the clown again, with Shanks arriving and all. Yet here it was, two years later, Crocodile was handing him a second chance on a silver platter. He simply couldn't refuse.
And so, he agreed to playing house with Crocodile. It was obvious why the man had reached out to him instead of, literally anyone else. Mihawk was strong. He had a strong hold on the use of haki, which the other man lacked. He could easily protect them while Crocodile ran the business part of things. They would work well together, covering each other's weak points. The more obvious reason though, was the fact that Mihawk happened to be one of the very few people Crocodile got along with. That man had a habit of making enemies of everyone he came across, which was not surprising considering he wasn't very likable. But that never bothered Mihawk, he did like a challenge.
The more he got to know Buggy, the more he hated the man, which was not what he was going for at all. He tried his best to see any good traits in him, but repeatedly failed to do so. The man was like a soggy, wet mop, who cried at any chance. He was way too easy to push around, and Mihawk kept doing it because the damn clown was so annoying. His voice, his mannerisms all got on his nerves. This was it, giving up was the only choice. There was no way this clown had any redeemable quality. Shanks was just more insane than he initially thought, whatever. It was just wasted time, and he wouldn't waste any more of it.
Just as he had decided on his departure from Cross Guild and had mentally prepared himself to clash with Crocodile (which he really didn't want to do, he actually liked the man) fate decided this was not the end. All the stalking he did payed off as slowly, he started seeing the clown in a new light. It was the small things at first. The man clearly cared for his crew, and it was almost sweet. He'd always put aside time to train in acrobatics with Cabaji, and to groom Richie with Mohji. He and Alvida had tea time together, giving the woman her much needed gossip time. He was more silent with his closer confidants, he let them do the talking while he listened. He let Cabaji teach him new moves, to help him out when he struggled. He laughed at Mohji's horrible jokes. And it wasn't that boisterous clown laugh, oh no, it was much more...quiet. Yet somehow more vibrant. It was genuine. He let Alvida paint his nails, and let Richie lick his face even when it got red and irritated. He was usually known for his grand gestures as the "genius jester", but he showed his love much more subtly to his friends. It was almost refreshing to see the difference. Almost like the usual Buggy was a performance, a show. And Mihawk was finally seeing the backstage.
Then, one day, he ran into him in the library. He was in his colourful pyjamas, hair tied into a bun and no clown makeup to cover his face. No makeup. One look into his sea green eyes and Mihawk finally started to understand what Shanks must have been thinking. This man was beautiful. And he was holding one of his favourite books.
"D-do you want me to leave? Because I totally can! I'll be out of here in a jiffy-"
"No need. You may stay."
Mihawk didn't know what came over him, but he walked over to the other man. "I quite enjoyed that one. Which chapter are you on?"
And just like that, their unofficial book club started. Buggy was a lot more clever than he let on. Mihawk quite enjoyed listening to his opinions about the books they read. One day, it stopped just being books. They'd talk about anything and everything. Mihawk hated to admit it, but this was exactly what he was missing on Kuraigana: companionship. He felt comfortable with Buggy, and it felt way too easy to fall into a routine with him. Buggy was knowledgeable on a lot of things. He knew chemistry and physics, spending a lot of time in his workshop working on his bombs. He was also a stellar navigator. Clearly his apprenticeship under Roger hadn't been for nothing like it seemed. And when he spoke of old tales, he wouldn't smile like Shanks did. His eyes were carrying sadness and sorrow Mihawk couldn't comprehend. How fascinating, that the same experiences can bring completely different emotions to different people.
When he wanted to try to see Buggy more from red hair's perspective, his goal wasn't falling in love. But that's exactly what happened. It happened all too quickly. He got back into his farming and cooking hobby, because now he felt he had a reason to settle down on Karai Bari. A lot of his cooking ended up on Buggy's plate. Unintentionally, at first, but it made the clown so happy that Mihawk didn't have it in himself to stop. If anything, he started to spend a lot more time in the kitchen. And the escalation of their relationship wasn't one sided, Buggy had also started feeling more comfortable around him. (Which definitely didn't make Mihawk fill with warmth) He started asking things of him like "Can you brush my hair?" "Can you watch me perform this trick?" and Mihawk found that he was losing his ability to say no at an alarming rate. He was falling for the man. He took that revelation with grace, he wasn't the type to deny his feelings, unlike a certain someone. (Crocodile's denial of his feelings for Buggy is a whole other story that was happening consecutively to all this) And as he watched Buggy polish Yoru with careful hands and focused eyes, he found it all too easy to understand Shanks. No wonder this man had an army of men following him, willing to do anything he said. Buggy the Clown was dangerous, and he just added Mihawk's name to his long list of victims.
Mihawk's mouth curved upwards as he took the shiny sword from a smiling Buggy. He found that just this once, he didn't mind being a victim at all.
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punkpandapatrixk · 4 days
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❣️How Abnormal Are You in Love? ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card
Don’t be too hard on yourself with this PAC. Everybody in this world’s pretty much abnormal anyway. We all want something that’s extremely rare in this world: Love. Sometimes, we go crazy after mistaking shit for Love. But we all heal. Eventually, we all learn to love more healthily and sanely. And really, that’s all that matters. The crazy is also part of the character development~♥︎
☆♪°・.
‘Hey, actually, when was it that I began to realise that there’s no such thing as forever? Even so, I’m prouder than anybody else about the fact that the days we spent together were at least not a lie.
Even though it’s true that the length of time we have lived is only slightly different, just the fact that we met, that we loved, though we may never love each other again… I won’t forget.
Hey, why do I still want you by my side, thinking that I won’t do without you, even though this is hurting me so much? Even so, I became a person who could be grateful for the smallest things in life. It’s because, even the most casual of words were so meaningful between us.
Because we met, because we loved, though we may never love each other again…I’ll be fine with turning all of it into proof that I’ll survive, whilst facing all of truth and reality.
I’m just glad that we met. I’m just glad that we loved. Though we may never see each other again… I won’t forget.’
☆♪°・.
Those are words from Ayumi Hamasaki’s legendary song, LOVE ~Destiny~. At some point in Life, Ayumi said in an interview, ‘I loved one man so much that I destroyed myself.’ I can’t help but think this song could be about…it? Maybe hahah Just a vibe, gals~♡
SONG: LOVE ~Destiny~ by Hamasaki Ayumi
MOVIE: Snakes and Earrings (2008)
[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]
[Patreon] [Paid Readings]
☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.
Pile 1 – What I Can’t Let Go Of, Really, Is My Pride…
VIBE: kiss by Chara
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what is, Love? – 4 of Swords
Well, it seems quite obvious your past was somewhat chaotic. I think throughout childhood you felt like you were crossing a battlefield or had to fight the stormy seas all by yourself. Because of this, you deeply crave a Love that can put an end to all of those noises. In fact, it’s only fitting. Deep down you’ve always known that Love is something that’s pure, sweet and gentle; that it’s supposed to put you at ease. You understand that the world is in chaos because nobody has Love in their hearts.
You, never wanted to be like those grownups who were fighting with their own spouses. Even if you’re young, you feel like an Old Soul—the only one who seems to truly understand what Love is and is not. And you see that 99% of people literally don’t know what Love is, let alone how to love right. And you’re afraid. What if you can’t find that one person who can love you right?
Deep in your subconscious, you have these standards and ideals you desperately want to maintain. But nobody you’ve ever met seems to understand where you’re coming from. What you want is something so pure. People are rarely pure of heart, so nobody gets it. And it feels incredibly lonely. And at some point, you might’ve begun to doubt if your standards are even fair…
why do you chase, Love? – King of Wands Rx
So you grew up a bit and began to wonder what might happen if you lower your standards…a bit? You want to experience passion, right? You’re seeing all these peers around you kissing and holding each other and you crave that, too. You know very well it’s not like they’re in love—they’re just silly, infatuated, hormonal fuckers; but you wonder how it would feel to be intimate with someone. To actually have someone want you like that. To be wanted. To be held. To be kissed. To be…loved. No matter how shallowly.
Now you’re willing to look for someone passionate. You could try with a puzzling character. You like that kinda shit. Any kind of an intriguing fucker with some semblance of a mystery; making you curious to dive deep into their side of crazy. How do I figure out your particular brand of bullshit? Anybody you can’t immediately figure out would excite you to a point of insanity. And you thought this was happiness. You thought, this level of excitement surely must be happiness. Perhaps…even Love? Otherwise…
How do you explain this feeling that suddenly strikes, rattling your heartstrings, making you realise that there’s somebody in this world you’d want to care for other than yourself? Just the idea that you even fantasise about growing older with this mysterious fucker… How is this not, Love? And if this isn’t Love…what is? How else are people supposed to know happiness if this excitement alone isn’t enough?
what happens when Love, dies? – 8 of Cups Rx
To begin with, you’re not one to trust easily. It takes a lot for you to allow someone to see your vulnerable side. And when you go in, you go all in. It may not feel like it immediately because you’re cautious, but once you’re in…because you feel sure of someone…you’re in deep. Too deep it feels like you’re drowning in this whole situation, if anything. And you’re proud of how much you’re able to give.
And…you’re generally proud of your boundaries and the standards and ideals you’ve imposed upon yourself and others. So, the fact that you’ve given so much, revealed so much to someone who wouldn’t be there for life, is beyond frustrating. It’s world-shattering, at least. What have I been in this situationship/relationship for if it ain’t gonna last?!?! I can’t just let it die like that! Maybe I’m doing something wrong?! I must’ve! Lest none of this would’ve happened…
When Love dies, it feels so shameful. It’s a shame you trusted the wrong fucker. It’s a shame someone was able to see you that vulnerable. It’s disgusting that you thought this was The One. What was I thinking? Now everything becomes clear. It’s not the loss of that person’s Love you’re crying about. If you’re being honest now, you couldn’t care less that such a loser’s gone from your world. If anything, it’s such a relief. It was just the shock from knowing you made a mistake that made you cry… It’s OK now.
MY HEART, MY PRIDE🔻💜
sacrifices I’d made – Green Magus (John Magus)
I’m glad I was able to love – Priestess of Ambition
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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.
Pile 2 – I Can’t Tell If I’m Passionate or Just Immature
VIBE: Boys & Girls by Hamasaki Ayumi
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what is, Love? – Ace of Pentacles Rx
To begin with, you’re not exactly a rational person. Not saying you’re dumb! You just have a lot of passion for something that’s unexpected or foreign. You like mysteries and you aren’t afraid to dip your toe in uncharted waters. This desire could’ve developed from having a childhood that felt constricted tho. I think you grew up surrounded by so many rules and laws and forbidden things and that’s how you developed a taste for, DANGER~
It’s exciting, from time to time, to think about throwing all your caution to the wind and breaking all rules. You want to disappoint. If you’re being honest, you’re damn tired of following everybody’s whims and concerning yourself with their expectations. What about what I want?? You want to live. You want to feel alive. There are so many exciting things outside of your everyday Life, why can’t you have any of that? At some point, you could’ve dreamt of being rescued from your Tower by a handsome daredevil of any kind of a fucker.
If that fucker happens to be handsome and rich, even better. But that doesn’t really matter. You just want someone brave enough to approach you and actually uproot you from your boring Life. Surely, Love can do that to a person…? I don’t need stability, let alone predictability; what I want is a romantic hero who’ll take me on a grand adventure of Love! And if that daredevil happens to be dumb…
why do you chase, Love? – 9 of Swords
In many ways, you’re totally not an innocent person. You want to hurt. If whoever daredevil tries to fulfil your fantasies of being rescued from your miserable Tower happens to be dumb, you’re gonna be having a field trip! XD You want to terrorise and traumatise a person, really. It’s vengeance for all the years that you were serving others. Now, it’s your time to be served. It doesn’t even matter if they don’t worship you. You’re ready to find another dumbfuck to toy with. You’re hardly ever sincere anyway~
Why bother with sincerity? Ever since you were a kid, you’ve observed that none of the adults you knew was ever sincere. What even is Love? I think you know of it conceptually. But what exactly is its purpose? What exactly is so good about it? And how? How exactly must one be in order to attain it? You don’t believe in it some days. You deeply crave it some days. You could die for it some days. You want others to die for your Love most days.
Life is confusing. Love is confusing. Sex is easy. Money is easy. Food and jewelleries are easy. Let’s live easily. Life is exhausting if you think too much about everything that could go wrong. I’m done feeling terrible about my own existence, so I want someone to spin me around and make me forget. That’s ideal. Is generally your motto when chasing… Love♡
what happens when Love, dies? – 8 of Wands Rx
You don’t care about it. You don’t particularly care about losing people. It’s expected. If anything, because you’re never serious with quite anybody anyway, ghosting is the best way to go about it. You’re the type to ghost, block, and you don’t even mind if you’re the one ghosted or blocked. Basically, you just don’t want any contact with someone you’ve lost interest in anyway. So that only makes it easier for you.
In many ways, I think you sometimes regret being this kind of a callous person. There are days you wonder if you’ll become someone more sincere. You’ve wondered what it would take to actually love someone. To actually be loved back. Surely that must be so nice. You want to be happy, honestly. But it feels like a distant daydream. You don’t particularly understand how two people can be happy living together. After all, you find people exhausting most of the time.
All you know is that you’ve lived with yourself for the longest time. And if you have to compromise or sacrifice anything…you’re not willing. You’ve sacrificed shit before, a looong time ago, and you got nothing back in return. You gave someone a rose and they gave you back thorns and strangled you with it. Surely that can’t be happiness. Two people who don’t know how to love can’t be happy together. Life is better lived alone.
MY HEART, MY PRIDE🔻❤️
sacrifices I’d made – Red Alchemist (John Dee)
I’m glad I was able to love – Priestess of Innocence
Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸
☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.
Pile 3 – Damn, Why’s Everybody Crying for Love?
VIBE: Sunglasses by Utada Hikaru
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what is, Love? – 2 of Cups Rx
Uhm…you’re a comical Pile for sure. Your psychology is so complex, although it’s also super straightforward (to you), but some people are not gonna have an easy time figuring out if you’re sincere or not. Most of us have got a lot of exposure to tragical romance, right? A lot of people get deep and insane in Love. And here you are wondering why everybody’s crying for Love. Why is everybody suffering in the name of Love? That’s not Love. People are silly for falling continuously for the wrong people. It’s all a Game for them. Me? I don’t play games.
But you do! Everybody does when it comes to falling in Love, to various extents. That’s what’s really fun about falling in Love. If you could face yourself, you’d realise you have a bit of a God-complex within this context. In the sense that…because Love and romance actually aren’t such a big deal to you, and somehow, you have an almost all-too-natural inclination to attract the right people, you can’t really empathise with those who cry in the name of Love.
For some though, if the above doesn’t really resonate, you’re the type that has an innate understanding that you must protect yourself from falling into those tragical romantic setups. You have a highly developed sense of boundary and you keep high standards for what kind of a romantic relationship you want. You’re kinda similar to Pile 1 in this case, but you most likely haven’t experienced sacrificing your standards for, EXPERIENCE~
why do you chase, Love? – 10 of Wands
In comparison to certain types of people in the world, you’re not exactly a dreamy type. When it comes to relationships you think straight towards building a matrimony with someone. You’re a traditionalist in a sense. You’re the based kid who knows that a girlfriend-boyfriend relationship is a training ground for a marriage. You think long-term. You’re realistic like that. But the problem is…you’re totally missing out on the passion of Love itself.
You don’t really see your partner(s) for the person—the Human—that they are. You care only for the practical, pragmatic facts surrounding their reputation or status or whether or not their physical appearance is decent enough. Stuff like that. And the dreamy ones who look at you, look at you with a pang of sadness in their chest, for although you seem responsible and blessed…you appear to them as someone who looks at another with an eye of business.
You’re the type that thinks love is an investment. An investment of attention, affection, time and money, and all that shit. That’s not Love; that’s something to be exchanged at the market. The dating market, OMG~
‘Freedom and love go together. Love is not a reaction. If I love you because you love me, that is mere trade, a thing to be bought in the market; it is not love. To love is not to ask anything in return, not even to feel that you are giving something—and it is only such love that can know freedom.’ – Jiddu Krishnamurti
what happens when Love, dies? – 6 of Pentacles
When Love dies, you celebrate. You’re wise enough to know that Life doesn’t end just because you broke up with somebody, even in terms of friendship. You’re spiritually mature enough to know you’ve learnt from the experience, and now, you’re just going to prepare for the next big thing to experience. Life goes on without a hitch like that for you, for the most part. I can’t tell if you’re really that spiritually mature or you just don’t give a fuck about emotions LMAO
Not saying you’re a bad person, btw. It just seems like you haven’t got a lot of crazy in your birth chart or that you haven’t experienced a lot of sorrows and soul-shattering heartbreaks, so…it’s kinda just a matter of not having, PERSPECTIVE? Coupled with the fact that you take Life very unseriously seriously…? Like, you’re serious about not being an asshole and wanting to do the socially right thing, but in doing so, you become an annoying insincere jackass in the lives of those who have (or will) dated you XDD
Basically, you’re not the type to get super crazy heartbroken when a relationship ends. You’ve got all of these other blessings anyway. Why would you focus on just the negative, right? In a sense, I believe that’s an incredible spiritual maturity which others are still struggling to figure out XD But yeah…rather than this being something abnormal about you, I think it’s just that your Higher Self designed for you not to experience the dramatic highs and lows of immature romance HAHAH
MY HEART, MY PRIDE🔻🧡
sacrifices I’d made – Gold Alchemist (Roger Bacon)
I’m glad I was able to love – Priestess of Luck
Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸
☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.
[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]
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ryomens-vixen · 7 months
Text
SUKUNA FLUFF! + HEADCANONS
Summary: It's more like we're "comforting" him.
Mentions: Sukuna being vulgar as usual, unwanted child, pregnancy, SA, 🤏 NSFW, Angst? idk what else. Good luck.
Word count: Ion fuckin know sis, reblog & ❤ please.
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Lord Ryomen doesn't usually talk about his personal life as it was never important to him at all. Who were you, a mere concubine, a toy to him, to question him about anything regarding his life before this temple, before these servants, before he was given the name "King Of Curses".
One day you were leaving his room as you did almost every night after an the usual escapade of skin slapping, animalistic groans, moaning that could've been mistaken for ritualistic chanting. You were his favorite after all, but you couldn't help over hearing some of the head servants discussing the childhood of the four armed man you had just laid with.
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"Do you think Master Ryomen... May have fallen for that one concubine he sends for almost more than he does the others?"
"You bet mind your tone, unless you want to be dismantled like the rest, we done want urame telling the Lord now do we..."
"I.. I deeply apologize, but doesn't it-"
"Absolutely, not! Master Ryomen is incapable of loving someone. If you can even consider favoritism as some form of love, then fine. But in love? Preposterous- Master Ryomen wasn't ever loved as a baby not by his mother or father. So what on earth makes you think he could love anyone?"
"Ah.. I suppose you have a point..."
"Of course I do, besides, THAT concubine is an odd one it wouldn't be long till he's tired of her and casts her aside like his other old toys. If you think about Master Ryomen is like a man child of some sorts, we take care of him, bring him new toys all for him to break them when he gets bored, then we're stuck cleaning up the mess..."
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Just listening to the way his own servants speak amongst themselves about the man they serve made your heart absolutely ache. If he truly was never graced with the loving touch of a mother and father, then that must explain a lot of his behaviors. Were you truly his favorite? If that were true then it is an honor to be favorited by such a powerful entity, but it didn't make your heart pity and ache for him any less.
Every since you were brought to his temple as an offering from the village you had grown up in- All the stories that had been told about the king of curses ravaging, Pillaging, completely massacring villages, towns, anyone, and anybody in his path. Sacrifices of children, women and any alike were made to please him and keep him at bay.. Everyone feared him, but you.
The village you grew up in...a village full of men, where had all the women gone you always wondered, but that could only be answered by one thing.. They were sacrificed as well. Ryomen was your salvation in the hell hole that was this village..all they did was use you for the most dirtiest, filthiest, most deranged desires it was far worse than anything Ryomen could ever put you through.
Being a Toy for him for the best thing life could have ever offered to you, many think that this would be something unfortunate, but you.. You loved every bit of it just was much as you had come to love The King of curses himself. Always gentle with him even though he is always very rough with his playthings, showering him with the utmost respect, affection, and adoration. This all left Sukuna quite...perplexed. Why we're you not begging for your life? Why did you not put of a fight with him while being balls deep in your tight core? Why were you always so happy to see him? So kind? So caring? To be honest it made him needy in a way- just like tonight when he kick you out of his chambers.. He didn't actually want you to leave, but was too stubborn to say so. He wanted you by his side at all times and even caught himself fantasizing about massacring the other concubines so that he may have only you to himself.
Sukuna found himself feeling rather the disgusted when the other would dote onto him or throw themselves at him in a sorry attempt of gaining his "affection."
While he laid in bed poundering deep into thought about the current events, about the tightness in his chest he got every time you came into thought. It was all interrupted by his chamber doors bursting opening as he sat up in bed completely ok guard his intense gaze met your watery eyes.
"Women, I thought I told you to-"
"Lord Ryomen! Please hear me even if it's only for a second, I-"
"Oh? You choose now to beg for your precious life? Well, go on amuse me why don't you."
"Lord Ryomen... I- I love you! And not as a means of trying to gain your affection. I know you may not truly grasp the concept of...my feelings for you, but they are true. At least to me- "
The sound of your confession was nearly drowned out by the rapid beating of his heart, his chest only became tighter after hear those three words- it disgusted him. To know he was loved? No no that's not it- to know that deep down even though it confused him, caused him great uneasiness, worry even- it angered him to no end on the inside.. Why? Why did he feel this? He was no longer human and yet- Ryomen's heart it still beat? It still felt? It was the cause of these unwanted feelings, this need to be more gentle, this want to utter those three words that it impossible for him to not gag at the thought of them falling from his lips. Oh how he just wanted to rip his own heart out and dispose of it, but what would be the point? Would he still long for her gentle touch? To hear her call out his name as the two made "Love" to one another? To see that heart warming smile she wore every time he called for her?
"I know I'm just a peasant.. A toy for your entertainment, but Lord Ryomen I swear to you my feelings for you are true. I do not fear your touch, your power, or your presence in the slightest for I have been through worse... More than anyone can imagine. So until the day you are bored of me- I want you to know that you are more than just The King Of Curses, to me..you are my salvation, my home. You deserve to be respected because of how powerful you are- not out fear.. My Lord this is your playground and we are merely the pests that reside in it."
After some time, the only thing that could be heard was the silence between the two. Having stared at him to long- your hands clasped together, head bowing staring directly at your feet. Ryomen did not utter a single word or demand your way.. Just a long drawn out stare- hell if you were still looking you would be able to see the unreadable expression smeared across his face, but all you could do was stand there in a bow only to then heard the shuffling of his bed sheets to his feet gracing the floor as he stood up out of bed.
For a moment the thought of your life being over was the last thing to cross your mind out of any other thoughts until he finally spoke sounding as amused as ever.
"Hmm, did you rehearsal that? Y'know I'm not to fond of plays, but my, my, did a shitty little pest such as yourself put on quite the show for me? It what I would say if I were any amused-"
Did you mess up? He spoke in a more annoyed tone this time- maybe.. Maybe he's pulling your leg. Or maybe...
"Say it again-"
What? Was your first thought.
"That.. I am just a peasant-"
"No, no you incompetent pile of flesh- your affection. Say. It. Again."
"I- I love you, Lord Ryomen even if you are incapable of harboring those feelings yours i-"
That was it, all the fuel he needed to aggressively take you into his four arms, his lips crashing directly into yours, it was sloppy, but full of passionate. He squeezed your body so tightly it began to hurt even, but anything, anything to stop his heart from beating the way it did for you, and yet it only beats faster. Ryomen's entire life as he knew it changed so drastically that night, going from an unwanted child...to someone who was loved to deeply by one person. It not that he cared for it being feared by all was the best feeling imaginable for him it was better than being loved, but by you? It meant so much more he couldn't even begin to grasp it, but he knew that eventually that would be no way of hiding the way he felt much longer. He NEEDED you, he CRAVED you, if he could you could be the air that he breathes, but his pride and ego was far to big for that.
"Say it again-"
He held you down by your wrists and waist, his grip was so tight that you could almost feel yourself bruising like a fruit. Yet when you look up at him the expression he held was quite soft versus the threatening tone of his demand.
"I.. Love you, Lord Ryomen."
"Again!"
"I love you!"
"...Again"
"I love you... Ryomen Sukuna."
You feel the grip he had on your wrists letting up enough for there to be some wiggle room. His face became quite deadpanned the more he demanded you to say it "Again." Placing both your hands gently upon his cheeks giving them a repeated caress with your thumbs.
"My Lord, I love you."
"Again.. Y/N"
"I Love you."
"...."
"I love you."
"...."
"Ryomen..I love you."
He breath hitched, something about his eyes bothered him, they burned as he stared at his beloved concubine.
"What... What the hell are you some kind of witch? A damned sorcerer? W-what the hell are you doing to me-"
"I've done nothing, but love you my Lord, I could never dream of harming someone as- My- My Lord are you...?"
"Shut up, wench! You know you are at my mercy? I could tear you limb, from limb."
"Then I'll accept my fate, I love you..."
Oh your fate was sealed alright, in an unexpected turn of events.
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[Now for some Dad!Kuna shall we?]
Dad!Kuna who was quite opposed to having a child of his own, but later convinced himself that it'd be best to have an heir to terrorize the world whenever he left this world.
Dad!Kuna who secretly hoped for you to birth him a son as he wasn't to find of the thought of having a daughter...or so he thought.
Dad!Kuna who desperately wanted to hold you in his strong arms thinking it would ease the pain from the labor you were going into. The sound of your pained screams did not sit well with him at all, this new feeling of... Anxiety washed over him as he waited upon his throne of bones.
Dad!Kuna who perked up at the shriek like cries of his new born baby, as much as he wished to dash into the room to see his new born child, he was overcome by his pride and worn an uninterested face to keep his reputation intact.
Dad!Kuna who looked even more disinterested when told that he has a beautiful healthy daughter, a damn daughter, how is a women suppose to rule? Terrorize? Be feared? He thought. Great- just great- this is now at all what he wanted.
Dad!Kuna who never once held his daughter, let alone taken care of her. But glanced at her a few times. One time he had followed you in the child's bedroom as she began to cry at dead of night- when he took a long look at his daughter, she looked like a combination of the both of you..beautiful. He huffed, and went back to his chambers only to be greeted by you and his weeping daughter who you just couldn't seem to get back to sleep.
"Ryomen do you mind holding our little Angel while I go fetch her blankie?"
"Ugh..." He grumbled allowing you to place "angel" on his chest as you rushed to find her blankie. Sukuna had a pout across his face as he watch Angel go from weeping and squirming around on his chest like some sort of worm to a little soft whimper as she began to calm down. Maybe it was the sound of his beating heart that soothed his fussy daughter or maybe it was the comfort of his intense presence. As long as she was done crying then he'd allow it, placing a hand on her small back almost as if he were guarding her from God knows what. Sukuna stared at his daughter in contentment.
Secretly, you stood off to the side of your doorway as you had already started to pick up on Sukuna being the source of your daughter's comfort. Even though he seemed to have no interest in her, your Angel seemed to be quite connected to her father, it was quite cute to witness.
Dad!Kuna who would dread the days where you would leave him with the baby to take care of outside business away from the temple, and as much as he would like to turn his daughter's care over to his servants, he just couldn't stand the thought of you leaving alone.
Dad!Kuna who would rest atop of his throne only to be startled by the shrieking of his "Angel", but this cry wasn't like the others, it sounded like nails against a chalkboard it made him want to tear out of own his as he angrily made his way to the bedroom she was left in. She's just a baby, she doesn't know any better, she'll grow onto you. These words Sukuna tried to keep in mind as you have said them time and time again as he scooped her up into his four arms trying to gently bounce her how he saw you do once or twice.
"Shut up-"
"I said Stop your excessive whaling!"
There was a brief moment of silence after he yelled at her, those wet, big, beady eyes staring back at him, then the crying started up again, but much much louder sending Sukuna in a slight panic as he just couldn't think of what to do except lay down with her on his chest.
"Shhh.. Shhh.. I- ugh I'm here, stop fucking crying already."
"Daddy's here.."
Dad!Kuna who fell asleep guarding his little angel on his, waking up a few times whenever she would wriggle, or kick her little feet, or grab at him chest.
Dad!Kuna who would barely allow you or anyone to hold her unless she needed to be changed or fed, he just felt this animalistic urge to protect his little baby girl from anything and everything.
Dad!Kuna would praise her for every little achievement, a big burp, pissing on a servant, learning how to crawl. Sometimes he would place her on the floor and watch as she would crawl after him frantically, sukuna found this so amusing in the cutest way possible even her little frustrated baby noises were cute to him.
Dad!Kuna who would sometimes let her play with his stomach mouth.
Dad!Kuna would laugh maniacally at her attempts of mimicking his intimidating growls and bellowing whenever he was annoyed or displeased.
Dad!Kuna who hated hearing his little girl cry for him each time he left the temple to do what? Cause mayhem? Her little "Dada!" Would absolutely tug at his heart. Her screams for him as he pushed on made him want to turn back and just hold her in his arms.
Dad!Kuna who would encourage her to walk on her own and to not cry when she fails because she is strong like her father.
Dad!Kuna who would one day insist- no no demand that you give him another for no other reason than "continuing his bloodline" when really he wanted another child because he was absolutely in love with the first one that he need to have a second as he was getting a handle on this whole Fatherhood thing.
Dad!Kuna would tell his daughter stories of his reign of terror as if she could even remotely understand a word that came out if his mouth.
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doe-eyed-fool · 22 days
Note
Guess who’s back!(sorry if you’re sick of me but my squirrel brain has blessed me again!)
Lucifer X Reader whose love language is food, loves eating, cooking, and sharing food. Shows their care for Luci by buying him or cooking food, making sure that every time they’re together that he’s fed. Cuz you can’t tell me that this man doesn’t forget to eat. Reader always asks if he ate today and always insists on making something if he hasn’t. Packs up leftovers for him to enjoy later and almost always knocks at his office door with a plate of food, a snack, or something sweet she baked.
I love this so much, he deserves to be taken care of like the princess he is🥺
Also no way am I sick of you, I like getting requests! Especially cute ones like this
Made With Love
Lucifer x Reader
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Being the king of hell came with a lot of responsibilities. Meetings with the other sins and powerful demons, mountains of paperwork, and now he was a full time father again.
It was all time consuming. But whenever he had some time for himself, he would usually pour himself into his, duck focused, creations. He'd be tinkering away for hours, he wouldn't even know that it was the middle of the night until he nearly passed out in the middle of his work.
At that point, he was too tired to feed himself and would just flop down onto the bed. Only to wake up and repeat it all over again.
That is, until you showed up. You and Lucifer had been dating a little while after the hotel was rebuilt. And once you learned of his unhealthy habits, needless to say, you were a little more than upset. But mostly concerned.
"Luci?" You open the door to Lucifer's workshop. Lucifer responds with a light "hm?" as you walked inside. He didn't even look at you, he must be really invested in whatever he was working on. You walked up beside him and look down.
There were noticeable bags under his eyes, and his hair was a bit of a mess. Worst of all, his hands were shaking. "Lucifer? How long have you been at this?" You ask.
"Oh uh, a few..." Lucifer looks up at the clock. His eyes widen slightly. "Hours..."
You frown and cross your arms. "Lucifer." Your tone was stern, but not harsh. Lucifer sighed and set down his tools. "I know. I'm sorry." You place your hand on his shoulder. "Have you had a break at all? Or eaten anything since you started?"
Just as you asked that, there was a rumble that came from Lucifer's stomach. And that was all the answer you needed. "Alright." You say before helping Lucifer up. "Come with me." You walk him out of the room. "B-But my-"
"You can finish it later." You interrupt him. "Right now, you're going to take a break and eat something." You lead Lucifer to the kitchen and sit him down at the table.
You would have started on something new, but you were willing to bet Lucifer hadn't ate since breakfast. So for right now, you decided to heat up last night's leftovers.
"It's not new but, you need to eat something now. I saw you shaking back there." You say as you placed the dish in the microwave. You turn and walk to the table. "Luci, you have to start taking better care of yourself. I'm worried."
Lucifer frowns slightly. "I know. I'm sorry, Y/n, really. It's just...I get so busy and, whenever I get a minute to myself, I usually just go to my workshop. It's a stress reliever, you know? But I understand, I get a little too into it and loose track of time and everything else."
You place your hand on his. "Well, it's a good thing you have me now." You chuckle. "I'll help you out with this, I promise." Lucifer smiled and held your hand. "Thank you, Y/n."
And so, you decided to do something nice for him. Every morning he'd wake up, you'd present him with breakfast, truly fit for a king. You'd also make sure to send lunch with him whenever he had a meeting. And at the end of the day, you'd make dinner for you and him both.
Lucifer was a tad overwhelmed by this, but of course he was appreciative every time you cooked for him. You worked so hard after all. And it was always very delicious.
One day, when he was in his workshop, you walked in with a tray in your hands. "Luci, I brought you something." Lucifer looked up from his work and faced you. On the tray was apple slices with a side of peanut butter and caramel, along with his favorite tea.
"Oh, Y/n you didn't have to." He says with a smile. You sat the tray down on a table next to him. "But I wanted to." You tell him. "You also give me no choice mister." You say teasingly. Yes, Lucifer knew, or finally realized more like it, that he wasn't taking care of himself like he should have been.
He had no idea how much he missed a good home cooked meal before he met you.
"Heh, yeah...Thank you, Y/n. Really, you do so much for me. I have no idea how I could repay you."
You smile softly and hand him the tea cup. "Just try to take better care of yourself, that's thanks enough. Oh, and I was thinking tonight I'd make something really nice. Maybe we can invite Charlie over too?"
Lucifer graciously took the cup and nods. "That sounds nice. It's been a while since Charlie's come over. Maybe she can bring Maggie with her too."
"Vaggie, Lucifer. Vaggie." You laugh. "Oh. Right." Lucifer chuckles lightly. "In any case, I look forwards to it. I'll help you too, if you want."
"Sure, I'd like to see what the big boss can do in the kitchen." You say with a playful grin. "You'd be surprised." Lucifer smirks. "But no magic. You're doing it by hand." You tell him. Lucifer's confidence dropped.
"Oh. Well, shit."
You laugh and pat his shoulder. "You'll do fine. You have me to teach you."
Lucifer's smile returned. "Yeah. You always do make the best food."
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tarotwithlove · 2 months
Text
PICK A CARD ⋆ if you were a deity...
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in this reading, we will answer the following:
what are your powers/abilities?
what would you be known and worshipped for?
what would your followers and worshippers be like?
reminder that this is a general reading and messages found here may not apply to everyone. take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and don't force anything if it does not fit.
BOOK A READING WITH ME · BOOK A 2024 YEAR AHEAD READING WITH ME (GENERAL OR NSFW) · LINKTREE · 18+ PATREON · TIPS ♡ tips, bookings, and feedback are highly appreciated!
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GROUP ONE
cards · eight of cups, seven of swords, knight of pentacles, the chariot (reversed), the fool, ten of pentacles, page of wands. 
channelled songs · safer in the forest/love song for poor michigan by la dispute. runway by mariah carey. sky by spillage village. identity by taemin. 
my dear group one ♡ if you were a deity, you would be one with the power of resurrection. you would be able to raise people, animals, and all other forms of natural life from the dead. for some, this power of resurrection is much like that of the christian god who, most noticeably, resurrected jesus christ. for others, this power of resurrection comes more in the form of persephone's, who, with her appearance, 'resurrects' the world by bringing forth spring. 
as a deity, you would be known for being somewhat of a frugal and humble god. i'm thinking of xie lian from heaven official’s blessing by mxtx, who often closely involves himself in the matters of humans even when he should not. even at the risk of his godhood. you would be known as a god who goes out of your way for your worshippers, with your worshippers knowing that any attention they give to you you will give back to them tenfold. a deity who would rather live in ruins, amongst nature, than in a mansion - and, thus, you would be a deity of the common people. 
your followers would worship you with flowers and offerings of honey. using these things to primarily ask you to help them with as they embark on new avenues. much like lord ganesha must be worshipped before one starts something new, this is how and why your followers would worship you. coming to you to ask you to ‘resurrect’ and bring life into their new businesses, new jobs, new career opportunities, and new academic pursuits more than anything else. 
once again, your followers would mostly consist of common people. these are humble people who want to better their lives, and the lives of the people around them. as you are seen as a selfless deity, you may have a reputation of being a deity who helps selfless people above anyone else. and so you will attract worshippers who are family and community oriented; worshippers who want to use the wealth and success you bless them with primarily for the betterment of others -- for example, worshippers who ask you to bless them with new job opportunities so that they may better look after their aging parents, or worshippers who ask you to bless their charity organisation so that they may truly uplift the community.
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GROUP TWO
cards · queen of pentacles, judgement, nine of wands, the high priestess, king of wands, the hanged man, eight of wands. 
channelled songs · amino acid by nct 127. free by florence + the machine. babygirl by maeta. all i wanna do by moonbin & sanha. 
my dear group two ♡ as soon as i pulled your first two cards, the goddess lakshmi came to mind, who, upon consideration, is much like the queen of pentacles herself. you would be a deity with the power to bring success, abundance, and prosperity into your follower’s lives. as a deity, you would be abundance personified, and everything you touch turns to gold -- metaphorically, of course. your power is so great that you could turn a single grain into a field of wheat, ready to harvest; a single dollar into a fortune; a house into a home; a cold-hearted businessman into a humble monk devoted to spirit. 
you may be known as one half of a pair of deities, much like lord krishna and radha or zeus and hera. that you are partnered with another powerful deity makes you even more loved and revered by your worshippers; makes you even more powerful in their eyes. you will be known as a deity of love. as a deity who does anything for the sake of love and in the name of love. as a deity who is moved by the love of others. 
story may pass, from worshipper to worshipper, of times when you went above and beyond for lovers. of times when you were so moved by a lover's desperate pleas that you granted them a great boon. 
thus, many of your worshippers may be young lovers who come to you to ask you to bless them in love, to bless their marriages, and to keep their lovers safe. your worshippers may have an idealised image of you, as this supreme love deity -- the love deity above all love deities -- and while this may not be why you primarily made yourself known to humanity you will be moved by their love -- too moved to ever truly ignore or deny them. they may be a bit naive, and you may often try to open their eyes to the realities of life without jading their hearts to the beauty of love. 
once your worshippers start to worship you, they cling to you. even people who may have hopped from deity to deity, going to whoever may provide a certain blessing at a certain time in their life, will stick to you, loyally, until they die. 
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GROUP THREE
cards · the world, the moon (reversed), eight of wands, the world, king of pentacles, the hierophant, two of swords. 
channelled songs · tulsa jesus freak by lana del rey. ain’t equal by megan thee stallion. dedication by epik high. say it by flume & tove lo. 
my dear group three ♡ if you were a deity, you would have the power of flight, as well as the power to communicate with and command flying animals -- birds, primarily, but also flying animals significant to the culture of which you belong. you will also have the power to appear to people in their dreams, and it is through dreams -- and visions -- that people will receive your messages. 
you may not have many devout worshippers, but that is how you like it. you are a nomadic deity, who finds greater pleasure in travelling from place to place and helping whosoever may need your help, rather than confining yourself to a singular place of worship and to only helping those who ask for you specifically. 
you seem like a mysterious deity. one who works in secret. you will often go to temples and places of worship that are not devoted to you, listen to prayers that are not meant for you, and grant blessings to people whose prayers have gone unheard by the deity they were meant for. the old man who spent the last ten years asking vishnu to please be reunited with the son he was separated from? you will grant him this boon before he passes. the young woman who spent the last three months asking artemis to please bless her with a job? you will grant her this boon. the girl who spent the last year praying to god to please bring her mother a good partner? you will grant her this boon.
you will do all this selflessly. never taking credit. happy enough just to have done a good deed and brought a blessing to someone who you see as most deserving of it. you will go from place to place, playing your flute -- or instrument of choice -- doing what you can in any way you can. 
though while you may never take credit, there may always be signs that it was you who answered this prayer instead of another deity. a particular scenario is coming to mind, at this point where i asked what your worshippers would be like: a young man joyfully tells a priest of how his prayer has finally been answered by god. this priest listens to him, with a gentle, knowing smile. when he finishes, answering the priest's leading questions here and there, this priest says, "why, that was not [god] but rather [group three]." 
people will have specific dreams before they are about to be granted a blessing by you. wake up with a strange, particular feeling. they will see birds or a particular bird that is associated with you. signs of you will be all around them but, as you are not a particularly well-known god, they will disregard it as coincidence or find a way to attribute it to their deity of choice. 
because of how little-known you keep yourself, many of your followers may be older spiritual people who have devoted themselves to the pursuit of god. priests, monks, religious teachers, intellectuals and avid readers, not the average layperson. there may not be any temples devoted to you, but your worshippers will keep shrines to you neat and clean. doing anything to keep memory and worship of you alive, in any small way possible. 
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GROUP FOUR
cards · the fool, ten of pentacles, eight of cups (reversed), ace of cups (reversed), queen of swords, death, three of swords (reversed).
channelled songs · sounds from hell by dj rozwell. nanana by got7. odd sense by vixx. area codes by kaliii. 
my dear group four ♡ as a deity, you will have the power to grant eternal youth and immortality to others. in some instances, this power may take the form of you ensuring that your worshippers gain immortality and live on through their works and legacy. the fool is a card of new beginnings, limitless potential, and youthfulness, and this manifests as you being a deity of the dead. or a deity of the underworld. ushering souls from one world to the next. preparing souls to transition from one life to the next life, or from life to the afterlife. 
of all the groups, your messages have been the hardest to channel. and this is likely because of the nature of the deity you would be. this god of death. a god enshrouded in mystery. a god who would be revered and feared in equal parts, with many things you are known for being misconception and misunderstanding. or from an unwillingness to research or understand you for fear that this would welcome you -- and, thus, welcome death -- into one's life. 
much like hades, you would be worshipped as part of funeral rites and rituals. you may have a small devout cult of worshippers, but generally, most people worship you only when they are faced with death. they worship you on their deathbed, asking you to make their death a peaceful one and guide them to a peaceful afterlife. they worship you, desperately, at the bedside of their loved ones. they worship you in the days after a death. 
as a god of death, the afterlife, and the underworld, perceptions of you would be conflicted. you would be seen as a fair but cruel deity, as, of course, you are only doing what you must to keep the natural order of the world in line. you are only doing what you must do. but death is cruel. and in the throes of grief, people may often curse at you, asking, "how could you do this? how could you let this happen?" even when they understand that this is what must happen. 
most hold disdain for you. others a fearful respect for you; a distant awe.
your worshippers, on the other hand, will be people who, in accepting the inevitability of their death, truly love life. they may dress in dark colours and be cult-like in their worship of you, keeping the true worship practices of you private and passed directly from worshipper to worshipper or family member to family member. your worshippers may have a reputation for being dark, evil, or demonic -- when, much like you, they are simply misunderstood. 
i envision your followers gathering in a forest to dance, laugh, and engage in worship of you. depending on the sect, they may make sacrifices to you, in the form of slaughtering animals, offering up their own blood and life force, and promising their lives to you. 
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little-sleepy-owl · 2 months
Text
ℍ𝕦𝕤𝕜 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣,
who is a virgin and wants him to be their first. mostly gender neutral, but there's one use of "girl/boy", coz I couldn't come up with the alternative that would fit my vision.
damn, I didn't expect I will have so much fun writing this one. for all Husker lovers out there. hope this is good <3.
warnings: not explicitly, but still smutty, daddy kink mention (have you heard Keith David's voice? there is NO way I would ignore this opportunity), biting mention.
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well, he didn't expect that.
forgive him if he laughs. “really, you died a virgin? how old were you, fifteen?”
actually curious how this even happened. were you never attracted to anyone that way? or was no-one attracted to you? if so, those people were blind.
somewhat surprised you want him to be your first. are you really sure? isn't there a better candidate?
well, he is not gonna reject the offer.
he's an old-fashioned man. he might look like someone who would just drag you to his room to do the deeds, but in truth, this fellow is a hopeless romantic.
you will get a proper date. not exactly a fancy one, but very thoughtful and sweet.
a table for two right in the Hotel, some lit candles, all other patrons and staff chased away for the evening. he will dress especially nicely for you and even prepare dinner.
(it's actually ordered, but you don't need to know that.)
quiet music, slow dancing. chaste compliments, but his voice is so deep and low, tickling your ear lightly, it still feels kinda suggestive. oh, he's very smooth when he wants to be.
his hands start to wander quite quickly tho. but can you blame him? the man can only have that much patience, and it's not like you both are not aware of what it is all leading to.
just remind him to retrieve into the bedroom, or else he might go on you right at the same table you both dinned on. unless that's what you want, of course.
a king of foreplay.
he takes things slow. madly so. it's almost like he's lazy. his hands move leisurely over your heated skin, and it takes so much time for his hot, wet kisses to go down the side of your jaw and cross your neck to finally reach your collarbones.
he purrs. you don't even have to touch him, he just marvels so much when he touches you, it gets him purring non-stop.
but also, try gently caressing the base of the wings. I assure you, you've never heard those noises from him before.
he doesn't talk much, but when he does… you can't help but blush to the tips of your ears.
hot breath, voice hoarse, a quiet praise, a small chuckle. doll, babe, sweetheart, good girl/boy.
if you respond well to the last one, expect him to use the “daddy” card, too.
don't think he will do all the work. quite the opposite, actually. he will lay down and make you strangle his hips with a sly smirk on his lips.
“don't you want to choose your own pace now, hun?”
truly the lazy cat.
oh, but don't worry. If you get tired, he will take his turn too. can't have you disappointed on your first time after all.
this man has technique. he makes you feel so good so seemingly effortlessly, it's crazy.
will ask if you're okay with a bit of a biting. it's really hard to resist for him, especially on the verge of climax.
mind you, he's not finishing before you do. maybe even before you do twice.
nope, no afterglow cuddles until you drink some water and at least have a towel to get a bit cleaner. after that, he's all yours.
covers you with his wings, while tackling you close to him.
initiates a lil’ talk about everything. did you like it? was there something you'd rather him not do?
he's not insecure, he just wants to communicate properly and prefers doing it as soon as possible.
everything's fine? good.
now you know he's purring when he sleeps cuddling with someone. what a cute kitty.
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signedkoko · 2 months
Note
omggh iii! if your requests are still open, can i please request some headcannons with val, vox and lucifer being in love with an imp?? l love asmodeous and fizzy soooo yk yk
Lucifer | Valentino X Reader [Romantic]
In which they wall for a hellborn imp, which may not sit right with most higher beings of hell. Reader is genderneutral.
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This guy is literally the king of hell, Lucifer himself
Whoever he wants to be seen with is up to him; he's more of a trendsetter than anything else
He loves you, you're so sweet, and you take care of him, so why would where you were born matter?
Even if met with backlash, he wouldn't respond to any of it because it was 'petty drama'
After all, hell is full of murderers, thieves, and cannibals���do we really draw the line at something as stupid as who can date who?
If anyone were to go after you for dating Lucifer, they'd be wiped out in a second
He won't let anyone think they have the right to decide what's best for him
Lucifer is very excited to see hell through your lens, though, and he will travel with you to your ring so he can meet those you grew up with
A lot of hellborns look up to you for breaking the barrier, too
For every demon that hates you, there are three that admire you
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Valentino is a mess of a man, he's been in all sorts of controversies and ate them all up
He truly feels that a lack of regret and a surplus of confidence will get you anywhere, and there are so many ruined people who'll follow him despite his wrongdoings
So when word gets out that you're together—and that happens fast—it's not much of a big deal
Since when has Val been afraid to get close to hellborn? Never! The only thing that's new is his dedication to one
There will always be a few overlords or higher-ups that view it as 'dirty' or 'wrong', but when have they ever agreed with him?
And with it being public, it's not like they can blackmail him with the knowledge unless they straight up stole you from him
But he wouldn't let that happen, no, you are his and his alone, forever
If anyone insulted you so badly on the street, he would bury them.
Val only needs one thing to remain pure in his life, and that is you
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Author's Note - I know you also wanted Vox but I actually had a oneshot requested of the same thing with him! You can find it here! And of course, thank you for requesting 🖤
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glassartpeasants · 3 months
Text
Deny Your Feelings
Trafalgar Law x Assassin!GN!Reader
Warnings: small angst, mostly fluff, blood, mentions of death Grammarly said it was fine so i say its fine
~~~
For a government that prides itself itself in getting the job done by killing pirates, they sucked at it behind the scenes. Which is where you come in.
You were a high-end assassin for the world government. They called you when they deemed the target too dangerous for basic marines and too unpredictable to send out admirals.
No matter the pirate, you always got the job done. The payout was great each time, but it did get boring. Same thing over and over again. Join the crew, gain their trust, kill the Captain, then the crew, take the treasure, go to an island, set the ship on fire and finally go back to the higher-ups. Every single ‘crew’ you joined was nothing but rude, rowdy pirates who stole from the weak and treated people like trash. So you never had any problems taking their lives. So when you got a call about a new job, you figured it’d be the same old same old, but as soon as the pirate's name was revealed, you knew you finally had a challenge.
Trafalgar Law, aka The Surgeon of Death.
You’ve heard many stories about him, mostly bad ones, but stories nonetheless. He was Captain to the Heart Pirates and has a bounty of 200,000,000 berri’s. His bounty was the highest you’ve ever been sent after. You’ve never had to deal with a million berri’s man, so to be hired for such a feat almost felt like a gift. It was thrilling to be sent on such a mission, finally something to spice up such a monotonous cycle.
You couldn’t wait for the job to start.
~~~
“Everyone, this is (Y/N). They’re a new member of the crew, so treat them like you would anyone else.” Waving to everyone, you smile brightly before speaking.
“Nice to meet you all!” Not even seconds later, a giant polar bear runs up to you. Its outfit is orange compared to the common grey ones.
“Wow! It’s been so long since we’ve had someone new! I’m Bepo! Where are you from?” You were taken aback by its complete ability to speak as you had never seen something like it.
“I’m from the North Blue. What about you, big guy?” Everyone started to gather around you and began to ask questions about you. You told them the truth for the most part while still sprinkling some lies in to avoid suspicion.
“I need you guys to show them around. I have to get back to my studies.” Law voices rang in your ears as you turned your sight to him. Even though you’ve seen multiple pirates, there was something about the surgeon of death. His eyes seemed so hypnotizing, and the way his tattoos looked against his skin had you struggling not to ogle. He was a handsome man, truly, but his bounty poster didn’t nearly do him enough justice. It was a shame he was a pirate. If he wasn’t, you would have totally made a move. But alas, the universe had other plans and made him a pirate.
A dangerous one at that. Killing him would be no easy task. His devil-fruit abilities were a force to be feared. No doubt he had haki, too. Truly a formidable opponent. 
“No problem, Captain!”
“Thanks. Now, get ready to submerge.” Law’s last words had your stomach dropping.
“Submerge?...” A slight grin cracked his face.
“Yep, 450m under the surface.” A look of horror crossed your face, causing Law to stifle a laugh. You make a dash to the nearest window, and your heart sinks as you watch yourself descend to the deep. Being on a ship? Fine. You were above water. But below water? 450m down in Sea King waters? The thought of being in a metal-enclosed space had your blood freezing.
“I think I’m gonna be sick.”
~~~
Ever since entering the Polar Tang, you’ve done your best to distract yourself from how deep you were underwater. Cleaning, exercising, playing games with the crew, and getting to know their routines. Currently, you're making yourself a snack. Onigiri, to be exact. You’ve been cravigning it since joining the Heart Pirates and just now have the motivation to make it. You hummed a tune while dancing lazily as you finished the onigiri. The sound of footsteps approaching goes unnoticed as you are too enveloped in your own world to notice them. 
“Having fun?” Law’s voice broke you from your trance, causing you to yelp and turn to face him. Your face felt as if it were on fire with how embarrassed you were.
“Jesus! You scared me! How long have you been standing there?” You fiddle with your fingers before turning around to try to finish the onigiri quickly so Law doesn’t see how flustered you are.
“Long enough.” You could feel his gaze burn from behind you. It made you unbelievably nervous. There was no doubt he was studying you. What if he knew who you were? He’d kill you for sure!
“What are you making?” Law’s monotone voice returns, and you feel yourself slightly calm down.
“Oh? Just some onigiri. Would you like some Captain?” Turning around, you see a small pink dust on his cheeks. Did you embarrass him or something?
“I…Just ate, but thank you.” You nod your head before sitting down at the table to eat.
“It’s my favorite, so I thought I should share something that makes me happy.” This was a true statement regardless of whether Law was a pirate or not. It did give you the idea to kill him via poison. If you made food and poisoned it and fed it to everyone, they’d all be dead without a fight. But you heard about all the powers Law’s devil fruit can do, so that plan was shut down before it could even come to fruition. Him also being a doctor makes things only 10x harder. The plan needed to be perfect for it to work. No room for mistakes.
~~~
If only you could use your governmental status right now. The Marines shooting you were pissing you off. While it’d make your job easier if they hit the crew members, you wouldn’t get all the pay if they shot Law. And that would not stand.
“Captain! More just arrived!” You and Law both turn your heads as you see more Marines approaching.
“There must be a base nearby if they keep coming like this. I don’t wanna deal with an admiral, so let’s go. Everyone to the sub!” Following Law’s orders, everyone makes a break for the Polar Tang.
“It’s like they're randomly spawning! They're coming out of nowhere!”
“Welcome to the pirate life newbie.” You can hear the smirk in Law’s voice as he runs right beside you. Despite trying to focus on running, your eyes move in Law’s direction. Even though he looked exhausted, he moved with such precision. The way a small bead of sweat rolled down his face made a slight burning feeling appear on your face. 
‘No! He’s a pirate! Get your head in the game!’ Shaking your head, you return to making your running your top priority. You wouldn’t get money if you were dead.
Bullets whip past you and Law, making your heart jump in your chest. You’ve been shot before, but it felt different coming from your own team. Usually, the sound of Marines yelling didn’t bother you, but now it gave you an intense feeling of unease. You haven’t even been a ‘pirate’ for 3 months, and you're already starting to despise them!
Moving your head to the side, you catch a Marine aiming straight for Bepo. Your eyes widen as you stop in your tracks. Turning around, you run towards the bear. Dread filled your heart as you feared for the bear's safety. 
“Bepo! Look out!” Without a second thought, you push the bear out of the way. The gunshots echoed in your ears before a stinging pain hit your shoulder. You could see the worst possible outcome if you weren’t there even seconds later.
“Fucking A! Damnit, whatever. Bepo, hurry, let’s go!” You grab the bear's paw and begin to drag him to the polar tang. The pain in your shoulder had you biting your lip until blood appeared from your bite's sheer force. While it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve been shot, this one felt so much more painful. You can feel blood seep into your uniform as you try running faster.
“(Y/N) your bleeding! A lot!” Bepo’s voice rang in your ears as you finally looked down at your wound. He wasn’t kidding when he said a lot. Almost your entire shoulder was drenched in the red substance.
“Now’s not the time to worry about it! Our priority is getting back to the Polar Tang! I can see it from here, so don’t stop now, alright?!” Bepo’s worried face is replaced by a serious one as he continues to run. The yellow metal of the sub gives both of you determination to run faster.
Once getting on the dock, you have Bepo jump in first before yourself. An action you ask yourself for. In fact, you were questioning why you saved him in the first place? If he died, that’d be one less nuisance to kill later. That and you wouldn’t have been shot! You wouldn’t be currently bleeding out if you just left him to die. Yet, the thought of the bear getting hurt made your heart burn. 
~~~
The event’s of earlier replayed in your mind as you sit in the infirmary. As soon as the Polar Tang went under the waves, you rushed yourself to the infirmary so you could fix your shoulder.
While yes, your ‘Captain’ is a doctor, the last thing you want is to owe him. Not to mention he was too busy setting course for the next destination. You didn’t have the time to wait. So you were gonna do it yourself, it’s not like people would come looking for you. That being said, you grab all the supplies you need and begin your own health care. It couldn’t be that hard.
“Damn bullet. Just get out already.” Putting your gloved finger in the wound, you try to fish out the bullet. A hand towel between yoru teeth as you bit down in pain. How can something be so difficult?! It’s a metal cylinder for chirsts sake! Why can’t you find it?! The lack of success made you aware of how much more blood you’ve lost. Your gloved hand is covered in it and ran down your arm. A weary feeling fills your body as you can feel yourself growing tired. Which even you know is not a good sign.
“Yeah, they're in here, Captain!” The sound of hurried footsteps catches your attention as the infirmary door opens. The figure of Law and Bepo enter your vision. You should have known Bepo would tell him.
“Jesus (Y/N)-ya! What are you thinking?!” The way his voice reprimanded you made you unintentionally lower your head.
“I just didn’t want to bother you since you were busy.”
“I’m your Captain, and as your Captain, it’s my job to make sure my crew stays okay! That means fixing them when their hurt! Never do this shit again, understand?” Looking away from him with a lowered head, you respond.
“Yes, Captain.”
~~~
You were currently sitting in the crew bunks reading a book, trying to ignore the pins and needles in your shoulder and your heavy heart. It shouldn’t affect you as much as it is, but when Law yelled at you, you felt ashamed. The fact a pirate could make you feel this way pissed you off. How can a simple pirate crew influence your emotions to where you took a bullet for one of them? No matter how hard you tried to focus on the book you were reading, your agonizing thoughts kept running rampant. 
Yet just as you were about to put the book away, theres a knock at the door.
“Hello?” Waiting to see another crew member, you were shocked to see Law standing at the door frame staring at you.
“Do you need something, Captain?”
“Bepo told me you took the bullet for him. Is that true?”
“Yeah. I didn’t want him to get hurt after I saw a Marine aiming at him.” Law said nothing as he looked at your bandaged shoulder.
“How’s it feel?”
“Like a bullet wound.” A small chuckle left his lips as he stared at you before going silent.
“Sorry for not telling you about it. You were already busy, so I didn’t want to add more trouble to your plate.”
“I apologize for yelling; Bepo wanted to say thank you, but he felt too bad to say it in person.”
“I’ll have to tell him it’s no problem. But it’s sweet of you to help him.” Law looks away as he puts his hand on his neck. He couldn’t have you seeing how your words made his cheek show a slight pink.
“Also, I have a question. Or, well, a request, really.”
“What is it?”
“I was wondering when, or if you have the time, you could teach me some basic first aid and CPR? I just would like to help in case someone got hurt on the battlefield. Like a field medic who can take care of their own.” Law’s heart did a small flip as you looked at him. You’ve only been a Heart Pirate for 3 months, and you’ve already taken a bullet for a crewmate, made meals more than half the time, always cleaned, and now you're making an effort to try and help him and your crewmates even more?
How can someone be so caring to people they barely know?
The thought of being alone with you, having you watch him in awe made his fingers twitch. It annoyed him. Why did you have this ability to have him feel emotions he hasn’t felt in years? Was it your eyes? You voice? What was it about you that had Law’s heart skipping a beat? How could he feel this way about someone he’s only known for 3 months? If he was smart, he’d say that he was busy and that he didn’t have the time to teach you.
“I’m free now so get up and let’s go.”
~~~
The moonlight was just bright enough that you were able to read your notes late into the night while everyone else was sleeping. Ever since you asked Law to teach you about first aid and CPR, you’ve been taking notes on everything he teaches. You didn’t want to forget anything. Even if you’d never admit it, you caught yourself looking forward to the lessons.
Penguin told you thathe’s never spent this much time with a crewmate before. That you’ve been the only one to actually get him out of his office. Knowing that made your blood run faster. It was both good and bad. You were getting him to trust you, it’d be easier to kill him if he lowered his guard around you. But on the other hand, your heart started to constrict every time you thought about killing him. That you looked forward being next to him. You could feel yoru face burn each time you saw a smirk on his face.
His beautiful face.
Slapping both hands to your face, you try to get rid of the thoughts that dared to threaten your mission. He was a pirate, you were a assassin hired by the world government to kill him. The things you began to feel for him was simply unacceptable. You couldn’t fall for a pirate.
The urge to read your notes was now gone, making you put them under your bunk. You didn’t want to think about anything that involves the man poisoning your heart. Grabbing your covers, you pull them over your head, hoping that no one would see the conflicted look on your face as your plagued with thoughts about the man only two doors down.
~~~
The kitchen was nice and quiet this time of night. Perfect time to simmer in your thoughts and write down all the information you learned from Law. You even bought all sorts of notebooks, pencils, highlighters, and anything you could think of that would help you keep track of things. It does help keep your mind occupied so you forget that your underwater. Even though you were internally screaming at yourself for putting in so much effort to make Law proud, you try tto ration that learning things like this could help you in the long run.
Reaching out, you grab the onigiri that you had prepared earlier and take a bite. The flavors making you lose focus from your notes as you smile. Eating the food always made you happy not matter how shitty the day was. You even had some tea to keep you awake. A perfect combination. Favorite food, great drinks and drawing your Captain all over your notes.
Wait.
Your eyes widen as you coke on your food. Rubbing your watery eyes, you see your hand just above a drawing of Law. Your eyes scan the entire page and all you can see is drawings upon drawings of Law werre scattered anywhere there was free room. Speechless, you quickly put down yoru food and start searching for a big eraser. You needed to erase them right away before anyone saw. Erase them before you could continue to think about him. 
Desperately trying to get rid of the drawings, you end up ripping the paper. Looking down, you could feel your heart slowing downseeing the crumpled up paper, no longer containing Law. His face comeptely erased from the notes. You drop the eraser before rubbing your face. Even when your not thinking about him, you are! How dare he make you feel this?!
You went to grab your unfinished onigiri but decided against it. Not wanting to taint your favorite food by thinking of a pirate.
“Damn pirate…”
“What are you doing awake?” Law’s voice had you jumping in your seat. You quickly turn the page of your notebook so he won’t see the sins you drew. Even if they were already erased.
“Could ask the same for you, Captain.” You joke with the man as he stifled a chuckle.
“Working. Came for coffee.”
“Ah. I’m working on notes for the things you’ve been teaching me. It’s just quieter at night to study. Also easier to make food and tea without worrying about it being stolen.” Law looks down and sees a perfectly made onigiri next to you.
“You can have one if you want. I don’t mind sharing…if it’s with you.” Law watches you move the plate closer to him. He could feel his heart skip a beat. Normally he’d not be one to eat food this late at night, but what could one hurt?
“Thanks.” Grabbing the food, Law takes a bite. His eyes widen upon the taste. Never in his entire life has he had onigiri this good.
“Is it bad?” Realizing he’s been quiet and seeing your saddened face, Law quickly swallows the food and begins to speak.
“No, not at all. I’ve just…this is really good.” He could see his words immediately lifting your mood. Whether he said it or not, your smile had him struggling not to smile back.
“That’s good to hear. I’m glad you like it, Captain.” Law looked down at the scattered notes. A small part of him was amazed at how serious you were about it. Another part told him that he needed to get back to work. Yet the voice telling him to stay was much louder, and thankfully, he had the perfect idea.
“I’m giving you a pop quiz.”
“What?! You never said anything about a quiz!”
“That’s why it's called a pop quiz. Now put your notes away." You can see the almost invisible smirk Law had. Grumbling, you stack your things neatly and place them far away. Your annoyance soon fizzled out when he sat right next to you.
“First question. What does ABC mean in first aid?”
“Easy. Airway, breathing, and circulation.” Law nods, and you can see him thinking of the next question.
“Injury caused by rubbing or scrapping of the skin?”
“Abrasion.”
“Correct.” You watch as Law grabs another onigiri. The sight of him wanting another one made your heart jump. He liked them enough to eat a second one? You had to keep yourself from gushing. He’s a pirate. No gushing over some dangerous pirate!
“A method of prioritizing treatment?”
“Triage.”
“Good job (Y/N)-ya.”
Maybe being in the company of a dangerous pirate wasn’t so bad.
~~~
Two arms wrap around your waist while you feel something bury in the crook of your neck. The smell of breakfast was easily over powered by the muck of the man holding you close. You reach up to run your fingers through his hair under his hat. A sigh came from teh man and you smile as it fans against your skin.
“What’s got you so loving? I thought you didn’t like PDA?”
“I don’t. Everyone's gone.” Short words, yet it’s all you need to know. The feeling of his arms wrapped around you had you feeling an overwhelming sense of safety engulf you. You intertwine his fingers with his before gently rocking side to side. 
“I’m so happy that I get to see the most handsome man in the world every day. And that he’s all mine.” Your words cause Law to hide his face deeper in your neck, but you can still see his ears a light pink.
“I’m happy that you're with me, too.” He whispers against your skin. Turning your head, you place a kiss on the brim of his hat. You watch as Moves his head to look at you. His eyes travel to your lips before he moves closer to your face-
“Everyone up! Time to dock and grab supplies!” Your eyes shot open when Penguin's voice broke you from your slumber. All your crewmates grumble as they begin to change and get ready for the day, yet your stuck in bed. The dream replays in your mind like a broken record. Lifting your fingers to your face, you gently brush your fingertips against your lips. If Penguin didn’t wake you up, would he have kissed you?
Your heart has never beat more faster as you simply think about the dream. It felt so real. What’s worse is that you wished you finsihed the dream.
Frustration and anger fill your body as you feel tears slip down your skin. Clenching your teeth, you try to yell at yourself internally. Tell yourself that what you feel is wrong! That you’d rather die than fall in love with a pirate!
‘Stop! You can’t fall in love with him! Get your shit together (Y/N)!’ You yell at yourself as you groggily get ready to dock. Maybe if you breathe fresh air, you’ll realize that your thinking like a fool/ A change of scenery is what you need. It’ll help you realize what your really here for. 
To kill the Surgeon of Death.
~~~
You follow Law and the rest of the crew in town to grab supplies and maybe rob a store or two. Whatever, it’s not like it matters. Not when this is the last stop that Law will ever see. There's a half-ass plan you came up with in your head when you got ready to leave the Polar Tang. It’s not perfect but it has to do. You couldn’t risk being next to him anymore. Simply being near him made your body crazy. Hearing his voice made your heart flip, and looking at his eyes made your legs weak. Without even knowing, Law had your heart in the palm of his hand.
“Okay, everyone. We’re splitting into groups.” You try to ignore his voice but still listen to where your group would be. 
“Me and (Y/N)-ya will be going west of town. Everyone got it?” If you could, you’d disappear on the spot. The universe has to be screwing with you. Truly a cruel joke it was playing.
Everyone separates, leaving Law and you alone. You quickly try to hide all the negative emotions and put up a happy front. Walking closer to Law, his smell hits you like a sack of bricks. You desperately try to seem unfazed, but you can feel your legs weaken.
“Anywhere, in particular, Captain?”
“Bookstore.” You blink at him.
“Really?”
“Yes. Your getting textbooks.” You pout at his words. It’s a shame since they’d be useless after today.
“That and I overheard you talking to yourself, saying you like to read books to help with your insomnia.”
BA-DUM
BA-DUM
“Y-Yeah, I do. Aren’t you gonna get something for yourself as well?”
“Nothing I can think of.”
“So we're going just for me?” Law’s eyes widen as your face burns.
“Sleep is important. You need it to be healthy, and you already do a lot more than your fellow crewmates.”
“Thank you, Captain.” Law nods, and you both make your way to the bookstore. Despite your outer emotions, inside, you were screaming. How could he hit you with such an act? He’s acting like he cares about you. What if he did? He’s acting like you mean more to him than just a crewmate. But that can’t be possible. Pirates are ruthless. They don’t care about love and things like that.
Law was a pirate, nothing more to it.
~~~
“Did you choose the biggest textbooks cause you could?!” Your complaining as you carry the heavy textbooks only made him smirk. If you weren’t holding all your books, you’d jump him.
“Perhaps.” A gasp leaves your lips as you stop in your tracks.
“Your lying!”
“Who’s the one carrying the textbooks?” You were speechless at his audacity. He seemed to think your reaction was funny as the men let out a laugh. So quiet that you almost couldn’t hear.
BA-DUM
BA-DUM
His laughter made your blood run hot as your heart beat against your ribs. How can laughter make you such an utter blubbering mess. The laughter of a pirate sounded more beautiful then any other laugh you’ve ever heard. It was something your heart wanted to listen to on repeat.
Suddenly, a drop of water falls from the sky and on your nose.
“Rain?”
“If it is, then we should get back to the Polar Tang. The textbooks could be ruined.” Nodding your head, you walk next to Law as you both hurry to get out of the rain.
~~~
Finally making it to the Polar Tang, you stop outside. The rain pelting against your skin did nothing to distract you from the scattered junk that's running through your mind. It was quiet on the way to the sub, and you hated it. It left you in your conflicted feelings. How would you finally get the opportunity to kill him? How your heart screamed that what you felt was real but you knew better. You were more strong-willed than that-
“I’m glad you joined.” A voice so soft and quiet broke the silence. It had your eyes widening and your heart freezing.
“What did you say?”
“You can see the pink appear on Law’s cheeks as he repeated himself.
“I’m glad you joined.” His final words made you bite your lips as tears began to form in your eyes.
BA-DUM
BA-DUM
CRACK
You fall to your hands and knees as sobs begin to escape your lips, and you can no longer deny what you feel. No amount of lying to yourself could work anymore. You had failed your mission. A mission you gave a year of your life to. You had fallen in love with Trafalgar Law, and there's nothing you could do about it.
“You shouldn’t be…”
“(Y/N)-ya? What’s going on? What are you talking about?”
“I don’t deserve to be called a Heart Pirate!”
“(Y/N)-ya, what's wrong?” The sound of worry and confusion in his voice only made it worse.
“Just kill me. I can’t handle these feelings! It’s not fair to you and the crew!”
“I’m not going to kill you (Y/N)-ya! Now what the hell is going on?!-”
“I’m an assassin sent by the world government to kill you!” Your head was touching the ground, and your soaked uniform clung to your skin. A sickly silence covered the two of you before you continued to confess.
“But I can’t! I can’t do it! The thought of anything bad happening to you makes me sick! It makes my heart burn to think about you in any pain!” Hiccups soon accompany your sobs as your hair starts sticking to your face.
“The thought of living in a world without you is hell! Ever since I’ve met you, my heart has beat faster than it ever has! Seeing you everyday and being near you everyday makes me so happy and i could never be happier!”
“I love sharing food with you! I love spending time with you! I love listening to your voice and laughter! I love you, Trafalgar Law! I love you so fucking much that I’d rather die than live without you!” Law’s still silent, and it only makes you ramble more.
“I know you don’t feel the same and I don’t deserve for you to feel the same! You deserve someone who wouldn’t lie to your face for a year! I deserve nothing! I don’t deserve to dream about you! I don’t deserve to imagine holding your hand or holding you close! I don’t deserve to dream about kissing you…” Sobs echo in your ears as your vision blurs. You could barely breathe as the tears kept flowing.
“Please, Captain…just kill me. I’m a traitor who deserves to die. I failed you and used your kindness selfishly. Now I can’t imagine a world without you and a world without you is a world where i’d rather die. So please, Law, stab me, poison me, just do something! I’ll take whatever punishment you give me with open arms as it’s all I deserve…” Hugging yourself, you can’t hear Law over the now thundering sounds coming from the sky. The rain only started pouring harder and hitting your back like hail. You wait for some sort of pain or the bittersweet embrace of death, yet it never comes. 
You didn’t dare look up at Law’s face. You didn’t deserve to.
“(Y/N)-ya.” His voice made your heart split in two. 
The tears and sobs distracted you from the sound of crunching grass coming up from in front of you. It’s only when you feel a hand grab your chin and lift it up.
“Get in the sub. We’ll talk about this later. You're going to get sick if you stay out in the rain longer.” Your tears still continue when you feel him grab your arm and pull you to your feet. The sudden action had your eyes widening and your legs shaking. 
“B-But…Captain-” Before you could utter a word. A gentle pair of lips connect with yours before leaving. Lasting only a few seconds yet you could still feel the sensation on your lips. The tears still blur your vision, but you ignore them as you feel yourself being led to the Polar Tang.
“It’s Law.”
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