#and man what a character…some of that stuff sounded so familiar

[heraldofcrow]

Here you go crow, here's you a new Murder Birb, Raven from Guilty Gear, let's see if you have a type or if Bloody Crow is your one true love.

Close to a thousand years ago, Raven was born during the reign of the Holy Roman Empire, somewhere in the Kingdom of Germany. He lived a very average middle-class life, until he was enlisted as a soldier in his mid-twenties and sent far away. He became an accomplished knight, waging war in foreign lands, but the campaign quickly became an unsustainable one a little over a year after it had begun. The unit to which he belonged attacked a small village to obtain supplies, but their enemies had planned for it and attacked them in the middle of the night.

Raven woke up and, sensing danger, left his room. Avoiding the enemy soldiers, he fled on horseback but he—and the horse—were struck down by a hail of arrows. Defenseless, he was stabbed to "death" by five soldiers. However, rather than dying, he found himself in a strange cylindrical space, as if caged with birds of prey, and felt immeasurable pain. After a few minutes, the pain abruptly ended, and he woke up in a pool of his own blood. Somehow alive, his wounds had closed, leaving faint scars. His aging halted on this first recovery from death, Raven thus began his infinite circle of death and life.

At some point, Raven settled in a village and started using his powers to help people, at times healing the sick and wounded, and at other times overthrowing tyrants. For these deeds he was punished and even executed, but his many returns were celebrated as miracles, and they began to view him as a god. As word of his deeds spread, outsiders sought his aid and left the village to help other settlements. When things settled down, he returned to the first village thinking that he would be welcomed back with open arms, but instead found that the villagers blamed him for every problem that occurred during his absence. Raven then realized that he was no god, but a simple repairman to them.

In time, Raven grew apathetic and tired of living, and attempted suicide many times, only to be met with failure. It was then that he drove an experimental device with spikes on either end through his skull, in an attempt to prevent his brain stem from regenerating, but this too was unsuccessful. Eventually, he met That Man, who gave him a new lease of life, and pledged his allegiance to him.

In summary

Raven is a recurring character in the Guilty Gear series. He is one of three servants of That Man, and his right-hand man. With an immortal body that cannot die of natural causes, Raven has lived about a thousand years, and nothing stimulates him anymore, except pain and eventually even that will soon lose its meaning.

His instant kill special is Sehnsucht which is either a reference to a Ramenstein Album or the German noun for Longing or Desire

Said Instant Kill has him do This

Raven's Instant Kill in Guilty Gear Xrd Rev 2 - YouTube

His theme's are Worthless As The Sun Above Clouds and TSUKI NO SHIHAI (Moon's Domination)

Now then Crow, the ball is in your court.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

This has been the third edition of Cosmic's sleep deprived Ramblings About Random Lore Fuckery.

(The previous two are on @katyspersonal 's blog)

But do not worry.

There WILL be more.

Cos or some say Cosmic, these sleep-deprived Rambles About Random Lore Fuckery are amazing, never stop.

Also, hmmm let me see.

Long white hair? Raven/Crow themed design? Metaphorical but also literal death(s) that leads to a bizarre bloody rebirth and an endless cycle of resurrection? An attempt to do the right thing and help others but fated to become their villain/enemy?

Is a figure of legacy among commoners? Failed suicide attempts because of immortality Vileblood super-strength/Hunter’s Dream interference?

The themes of growing tired of living until meeting The Person that one can pledge allegiance to in order to receive some form of purpose? A meaningless existence under the weight of long life that is only stimulated by pain?

Absolutely OP? Scary?

Has comments under his videos that say stuff like this?

And lyrics in his second theme like this??

—

Well, Cos or some say Cosmic. After doing some research, I would say that I do, in fact, have a type. This character’s story sounds eerily similar to the overall tale I wove so passionately for Bloody Crow.

Now, though I am very intrigued by this new Murder Birb, I will say that Crow does remain my one true love because he is the most blatantly Murder-Birb of them all so far (I have seen other characters like this too!), but damn….these raven/crow people are always so cool….what is it with them….I am…very interested in them all….

Ah, well! Thank you for the analysis and ramblings. I can’t wait to see what comes next 👌

#lol thanks cosmic #this was actually fun #and man what a character…some of that stuff sounded so familiar #but i’ve never played guilty gear before #i didn’t expect that type of game to have legit lore that went so deep?? #his videos looked really cool too #represented by all those ravens and all that #yess very Bloody Crowesque #the inability to commit suicide too omg 💀💀 #that…is….a theme for sure #damn #bloody crow of cainhurst #bloody crow #raven guilty gear #asks #mutuals

[bowtiepastabitch]

Deeply Transgender and Vividly Pornographic: a deep dive into what makes a fic queer

This is a response to the wonderful @ineffabildaddy making this post, which it was originally going to just be a reblog to but once I started approaching a thousand words it was a bit unwieldy so we're just going all the way. If second base is reading their fics and third base is actually talking to your mutuals, I have no clue what this is.

Here's the prompt text that started it all:

Alright, well I am nothing if not a scientist (narrator voice: they were, in fact, a humanities major), so I spent several hours of my weekend putting this together because I'm a burnt out academic and this is the enrichment in my enclosure. Readers, this is going to contain experpts of some very spicy stuff, so stop here if you're not interested. Me bringing porn? To your tumblr dash? It's more likely than you think.

All fics and such referenced will be linked at the bottom of the page.

~~~

Heteronormativity and cisnormativity, while unfortunately the dominant norm for mainstream pornography, make little appearance within the fandom writing spaces I myself spend time in. That's not to say I haven't read my fair shair of painfully straight smut in my lifetime, but simply that I have taste and am lucky to be neck deep in a fandom with very little of it. Nonetheless, as a card-carrying queer and writer myself, I consider myself quite familiar with the distinctive traits and patterns of queer and cishet pornographic writing. Beyond merely a focus on non-male pleasure or the subtle presence of queer or trans characters, the characterization of queer fanfiction is distinct and has entirely different mannerisms in dealing with conceptions of the body and pleasure. I'll primarily be citing Ineffabildaddy's work, for the sake of a focused analysis, who I will henceforth be referring to as Sam for the sake of pseudo-academic flow.

There are certain linguistic patterns that tend to distinguish heterosexual and heteronormative depictions of sex from queer ones. For instance, "cunt" is utilized sparingly within heteronormative contexts for its vulgarity and added obscenity, whilst queer writers use it pretty universally and without the same subtext. Throughout his writing, Sam works with this queer-coded vocabulary pretty consistently. In "Strawberry Scripture" (F/M), he describes how "Crowley's cunt... was damn-near swollen" and how Aziraphale has to resist "Bury[ing] his face in it immediately." No cis-het man has ever thought about eating pussy that way, and if you find one I'll eat my fucking hat. Likewise, vocabulary for the phallic tends to veer in the direction of "cock" over anything else. Interestingly, this creates a set of contrasting pairings. Heteronormative slang, from my obvervation, is more likely to use 'dick' and 'pussy', and, especially in conjunction, it creates a very distinctive mouthfeel that separates the two and poses them as opposites. 'Pussy', in particular, has a much more feminized feel when juxtaposed against 'dick', favoring much softer consonants and the english diminutive 'y' ending. 'Cock' and 'cunt', in comparison, have a very similar sound and feeling to them, distancing itself from hetero-cis-normative gender dualism of the language. There is, of course, plenty of nuance to this and the use of a variety of language in subverting cisnormative ideas about the sexed body as well, with phrases like 'boypussy' and 'girldick' being rather essential to the way many trans people describe their own bodies. "Fandom's Pornagraphic Subset," (yes I'm stealing sources from my research paper on monsterfucking, suck my dick) an article published in 2021 by Silja Kukka, describes how the "fleshy, hyperbolic descriptions of sex" that characterize this kind of writing are essential to what she dubs the "[creation of] a new genderqueer place outside of the gender dichotomy"(57). If you read enough smut, you know exactly what this is talking about. For example, in "Despite Knowing Better,"(F/M) we get vivid imagery to describe the way "streaks of her spit oozed from her mouth even as Aziraphale fucked it"(Ch5) and of "her walls quivering and clenching around him."(Ch3) This level of graphic sexual depiction goes beyond what would be considered 'tasteful' or 'sexy' in a heteronormative concept of pornography.

In terms of tropes, let's do a deep dive into "Strawberry Scripture"(F/M) to find what makes it queer beyond it's apparently straight pairing. To preface, this fic involves both foodplay and monsterfucking, but we're only gonna analyze one. The inherent queerness of monsterfucking is actually something I've written an entire academic paper on, so I suppose I'll start there. There's something very queer and often very trans about subverting the standard playbook of sexual acts, and while kink itself can easily be heterosexual, most monsterfucking falls far outside that category no matter what genital configuration those involved have. Monsterfucking tends to reject the phallocentrism of heteronormativity and mainstream kink by subverting the concept of the human body itself, giving inhuman and monstrous qualities to characters usually for sex appeal or general kinky shenanigans. While there's an argument to be made for heteronormativity still being able to creep into certain spaces, that certainly isn't true for this fic. There's something intrinsically transgressive about creating an erogenous zone out of a feature that would largely be considered horror or 'gross' in any other form of media, which is exactly what Sam does here as he describes the "cool, satiny sensation that the plates of her scales against his tip engendered." The scales are not merely called apon for their invocation of the unusual but to give them an eroticism in and of themselves, with Crowley reaching orgasm through their stimulation. We also slide gently into Monsterfucker territory in "Close (well you couldn't get much closer)" (M/M), where an argument could be made that the most trans-coded element isn't even Crowley's T-dick but instead the presence of a magic angel dildo. (sentences I never thought I'd fucking say but here we are.) There's something deeply transgender about the deconstruction of genital purpose in sex that recontextualizes the gendered body's role in pleasure. It falls into the same semiotic revolution and reclaiming of the body as the changes in language used by trans folks to rename and reidentify the literal physicality of the body by ones own standards (ie T-dick).

Another major trademark in departing from heteronormatized porn is the shift in narrative focus away from penetrative sex. That is, even in paragraphs where the main sex event is penetration, it rarely takes up even half the prose. The majority of narration is focused on surrounding or tangential actions: "the flowing movement of ... hips was sedate and wanton and lusciously provocative,"(1) "watching the muscles which resided there tense and relax alternately with pleasure,"(2) "his tongue stole past his teeth and slid over them,"(3) and "he whispered, his voice aching and curling and stretching for her"(4); all excerpts pulled from moments in which penetration is taking place, yet the concentration is anywhere but. Likewise, the act of penetration itself only takes up a small portion of physical sex acts in the grander scheme of Sam's writing. Instead, we as readers are presented with a vast spread of cock-sucking, pussy-eating, fingering, teasing, frottage, kissing, and more. Contrast this with the cis-hetero norm, where penetrative sex is the endgoal, and any other action is shucked aside to play second fiddle as mere foreplay. It's the reason virginity as a concept is directly tied to the mystical hymen and one's experience with penetration; a straight girl can suck dick a thousand times and still consider herself a virgin. As such, in a piece of pornographic writing where I have significant trouble finding lines to pull specifically and exclusively describing penetration (seriously, try it out yourself), the heterosexual influence is negligible. And yes, I'm talking about all of them. I had to restructure an entire argument that focused on comparing lines from different works because it was so difficult to find them.

So, in conclusion, Sam, love, there is not an ounce of heteronormativity in even the "straightest" of your writing. Congratulations.

Links, in order of reference:

Strawberry Scripture (3)

Fandom's Pornographic Subset, article by Silja Kukka and a great read

Despite Knowing Better... (4)

Close (you couldn't be much closer)

Many Different Ways to Eat an Oyster (1)

I'm Beginning to See the Light (2)

Author's notes, and then I promise I'll leave y'all alone: Hi! This started as a short analysis but quickly became a three(?)(maybe more?) hour labor of love analyzing the things I love most about both Sam's writing and the writing in this community as a whole. Please please please ask me questions, I'm an autistic little bitch and I like knowing things. My ask box? Open. Comments? Open. Reblogs? Open. If you've read this far, I fucking love you and I am kissing you on the mouth right now. Don't worry, my gender is just queer so it's gay no matter what. <3<3<3

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands #good omens fandom #nerd shit #why do any of you follow me #gomens

[starrayblogs]

Not So Rock-Hearted || Floyd (Trolls) x Reader

a/n: hey! another one :3 lots of playful stuff in this chapter, i feel like i kinda wrote floyd out of character? but honestly if you really think about it, i don't think he was ever a shy guy so hm... well, have a fun read! likes and reblogs are appreciated as always

✩ previous chapter

ii. The Music's On

It’s the first day of the weekend. Barb agreed to let you ride to Pop Village every weekend to catch up with Viva, but that you’d need to be back by the morning of the weekday. Now you’re on your way to Pop Village with the sun high in the sky.

The sun was starting to set by the time you saw a pod. You pick up the speed on your motorcycle and start to see more pods. You’ve arrived back in Pop Village. Now, you have to look for Branch’s bunker. Poppy suggested having a party there to catch up quietly with just a small group.

You receive a few whispers and pointing fingers as you ride through the place, and you pick up the pace. You park your bike by a big stone, a bit further away from the pods, that has a rug that says ‘Go Away’. You chuckle at it.

“Now, where is Branch’s bunker?" You talk to yourself, stepping away from your bike to head to the village. Until you see a familiar troll with pink hair, not forgetting the white fade too. You raise your hand and give a small wave, which he returns with a smile. “Floyd, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Great. I just have a small question, do you know where Branch’s bunker is?” You ask.

“Oh, it’s… It’s right behind you.” He chuckles, pointing behind you.

You turn behind you and look at the rock up and down. “Pretty hardcore…” You give a nod of approval. “You got invited to the party too?” You turn back to him.

“Of course, I wanna catch up with my brothers.” Floyd walks past you to walk to the bunker. You follow behind him. You watch as he knocks on the rock, which produces a hollow sound like a door.

“Okay, this rock can’t bring me any more surprises.” You wave your arms away from you. A section of the rug slides open to reveal a set of eyes, causing a startled ‘what the!?’ to come out of you. Floyd hides his chuckle behind his hand.

“The rug had a surprise for you.” He comments.

“Real funny, Cotton Candy.” You roll your eyes at him while smirking before meeting the eyes under the rug.

“You two finally made it.” The entire rug slides away and reveals Branch, who motions for you two to hop down. You look to Floyd to see if he’d go first, but seeing as he doesn’t take the opportunity to jump right ahead, you jump in.

“You think you can follow that?” You cross your arms as you look up at him.

He lets out a snicker before jumping down like you. You give him a nod before turning to Branch. You watch him place the rug back in place before pulling a lever. The floor beneath you starts to move downward. “Man, you just get cooler.” You direct your eyes to Branch, leaning on the lever.

“Thank you.” Branch says, grateful, even giving a little bow. You chuckle. 

The platform stops, and you notice that you’re back on the ground, in front of a small group. There’s JD, Bruce, and Clay all together and poking around the stuff on the walls. Viva and Poppy are sitting on the floor, talking and giggling with each other.

The three of you catch the attention of the rest, who cheer at your arrival. Viva hops from the floor and rushes to hug you. “You’re finally here! We can get this party started!” She moves her arm around your side, walking you with her to Poppy.

“Welcome! We brought snacks, oh- and there’s a karaoke machine if we want!” Poppy pats the floor next to her before pointing to the mentioned karaoke machine at the side. You hum, removing your guitar strap and propping the instrument against a nearby wall.

“Snacks? You guys should’ve told me, I would’ve brought something.” You chuckle, taking a seat next to Viva.

“Please, it’s okay! Here, have some menudo from Bruce’s cantina.” Poppy gets up as quickly as she returns with a bowl for you. You nod your head as a thanks, blowing away the steam.

“Oh my gosh, I have so many questions! First of all, hello? You’re a rock troll! How’s that work?” Viva asks, sitting cross-legged and leaning forward to you.

“Oh, me too. I would’ve never thought you were one of us.” Poppy adds, lying on her stomach with her face in her hands.

“Well, I don’t know either,” you shrug. “Since I got to Volcano Rock City, I never really sang or did pop anymore? Kinda left it behind me…” You take a bite of menudo, nodding your head in approval at its deliciousness.

“Why did you go to Volcano Rock City?” Viva asks.

“I didn’t. At first, I left Pop Village to look for you…” You look quietly at Viva for a while before clearing your throat. “I lost hope after a while, but I didn’t want to go back to Pop Village. I didn’t want to see King Peppy after he lied about no troll being left behind. Next thing I know, I'd get left behind if there was another attack.” You scoff until you notice both of their connections to the man. “No offense, by the way.”

“None taken!” Poppy and Viva say in unison. “I get it.”

You nod your head. “So, after a few days wandering about in the wild, Barb found me. Took me back to her place, and I learned all about the different kinds of trolls.” You take another bite. “Then, I got a sick makeover.” You motion to yourself with a smile.

“You know, I haven’t really heard the other kinds of music…” Viva purses her lips, making eye contact with you.

“Viva, no.” You laugh, pointing the spoon at her. “I doubt there’s even a rock song in that karaoke machine.” You scoop up some menudo into your mouth.

“But you have your guitar!” Viva protests, and you raise a brow at her while you chew.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve actually heard a full rock song either.” Poppy encourages Viva’s prompt, which causes you to facepalm. Both of them begin to place their hands together in a pleading motion.

“What’s all this about?” Clay approaches your little circle.

“They’re trying to get me to sing a song.” You roll your head back to meet his eyes, before lazily facing the two girls again. “Still not happening, by the way.”

“Aww, amiga, please! It’s been a while since I’ve heard you sing too!” Viva shakes her conjoined hands at you, and you laugh a little.

“My voice is gonna be completely different from what you remember.” You prolong the last vowel with a playful smirk. “You might not like it.”

“What’s this I hear about singing?” JD joins in, along with the other Brozone bros next to him. You let out a mix of a groan and a laugh.

Poppy giggles, sitting up properly. “You’ve got an audience now, come on! You can’t keep us away from that rock’n’roll!” She says, raising her fist in the air.

“Mhm, mhm, yeah.” You set your finished bowl of menudo to the side. Eventually, almost all of them start to encourage you to play a song, and you keep nodding your head in amusement until you make eye contact with Floyd.

There’s a small smile on his face that pulls at you. 

You clear your throat and look away as the group quiets down for you to hear him speak. “You can’t follow up your stunt earlier?” He says with a teasing, but encouraging tone.

“Ha, of course, I can.” You send him a quick smile before rising from the floor, ruffling up your hair more as you make your way to pick up your guitar.

“Yes!” Viva cheers, even jumping from the ground a bit. “Wait, what stunt?” She turns to Floyd, who looks away and shrugs his shoulders.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you about my voice.” You point at Viva as you wear your guitar strap, adjusting the strings to make sure they’re good to play. You watch as Brozone sits down next to the girls, forming a little audience in front of you.

“This is exciting.” Bruce comments, and you chuckle. “I wonder what rock sounds like.”

“It sounds like this.” You start to play the notes of the opening on your guitar, breaking eye contact with them to focus on the music. Your foot taps to the rhythm, and your body rocks a bit.

Here I am Rock you like a hurricane

You can hear the ‘oh’s and ‘wow’s from the trolls in front of you, making you smile a bit.

Here I am  Rock you like a hurricane

You raise your head and exaggerate your expressions to the lyrics, leaning forward to interact with them.

My body is burning, it starts to shout Desire is coming, it breaks out loud Lust is in cages ‘til storm breaks loose

You smirk, pointing the headstock at a certain troll on the floor while you play the strings. You tilt your head to the side as you sing the following lyrics.

Just have to make it with someone I choose

You don’t look away when Floyd’s eyes noticeably widen, his posture straightening at the sudden pin of attention. You quickly pull the headstock away from him and focus back on performing the song, occasionally picking him out of the crowd again more often than the others.

You finish the riff and raise your head with a smirk, breathing heavily as you receive applause. “I hope you all enjoyed your premiere dose of rock’n’roll.” You pose the signature rock sign, before placing your guitar away again. 

“That was…!” Viva starts, but she stammers to find a word, before letting a hand out to you. “What is it you say!?”

“Sick?” You smirk, placing a hand on your hip.

“That was sick!” Viva’s arms raise to the sky again, a grin on her face. “Your voice is so booming, I would’ve never thought you could sing like that back then!” She waves her hands happily.

Your smirk turns to a soft smile at her words. “Thanks, Veev.”

“I was totally not expecting that.” Clay comments. “That was awesome!”

You tilt your head toward him and cross your arms. “I think I get to encourage a performance now.” You smirk, which makes the troll’s eyes widen in surprise. “Brozone, right? I’ve never heard a single thing from you guys.” You remark, setting your guitar up on a wall.

You watch as the brothers look amongst each other, considering if they should perform or not. Your eyes drift from Clay to Floyd, who immediately meets your eye. You smirk.

“You think you can follow after me?” You ask, and he gives a sided smile with a tilted head, before turning to his brothers again.

“I mean, why not? It’s only fair.” He encourages them, receiving an affirming response.

“While the night’s young.” You spread your arms to the side as if handing them the stage, walking forward to sit with Poppy and Viva as the audience. “You too, you know?” You tell the girls.

“Oh psh, that’s easy.” Poppy giggles. You watch as the karaoke machine is messed with by JD, who is finding one of their old songs to sing.

Eventually, they conclude and position themselves for the song. As the karaoke is set to go, their harmony surprises you as it overpowers even the set instrumental of the machine.

You watch them perform with a relaxed smile, your hands leaning behind you as your head slightly bops to the beat.

Did anybody notice?

You watch as Floyd dances in the center, making eye contact with you. He extends his arm in your direction with a smile and a glint in his eye.

The energy just shifted When we dropped in, ooh Let it drop in

You let out a small laugh to yourself as your shoulders rise to your neck. Your smile only widens when you subconsciously find your eyes focused on him throughout the entire performance.

Viva purses her lips when she looks at you, who doesn’t even notice her gaze. She turns to her sister, nudging her side and glancing at you again. Poppy follows her eyes, looking at you and where you’re looking. 

Poppy lets out a soft gasp, and Viva grins. Unknown to you, they gossip with each other while the music plays for the night.

✩ next chapter

#✩ starraywrites #✩ starraywrites nsrh #✩ starraywrites not so rock hearted #✩ starraywrites trolls band together #✩ starraywrites trolls #trolls #trolls band together #trolls floyd #floyd trolls #trolls floyd x reader #floyd x reader #silly #maybe flirting #viva and poppy? #definitely plotting something #me? #the author? #what could i possibly be plotting im so innocent cmon #tumblr fic

[sunflowersteves]

just to see you smile || m.o.

pairing || Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

summary || as Spider-Man, Miguel was forced to be prepared for many situations, like multi-universal travel, but losing you and Gabriella wasn't one of them.

author's note || do i only know how to make angst for this man bc damn

warnings || grief, main character death (reader), heavy angst, some fluff, potential spoilers, gabriella isn't the reader's child, miguel is anti-therapist, non-canon (sorry miguel ik)

masterlist

“I thought I might find you here,” Peter says. Mayday makes grabby hands at Miguel beside her, little chubby fingers grabbing onto his soft sweater. Peter looked down, taking note of the fresh, bright marigold flowers and the sweet, sugary bread that sat on top of the gravestone. 

Miguel’s eyes closed—breathing in and out of his nose as if to control the space around him. It was getting harder and harder, though, as time passed on. 

It had officially been three years. One-thousand nine-hundred and five days.

Miguel didn’t say a single word. He just stared at the gravestone in front of him, hoping that Peter would leave. If Mayday wasn’t here, he definitely would have left by force, if needed. 

“C’mon, I’ve told you before.” Mayday giggled and babbled at her father’s words. “You need to talk to someone about this stuff.”

He paused, gauging Miguel’s softened expression on the engraved stone. “You already know the damage you’ve done—t-to Miles.”

This time, Miguel just scoffed. He turned to Peter, and his eyebrows furrowed at the sight of his friend. Miguel had large bags under his eyes and a familiar pain that was etched across his face—one that Peter knew too well. “Yes, I’m sure Ezekial Sims from Earth-616 will solve all of my problems and grant all of my wishes.”

Peter just sighed and subtly rolled his eyes. They stood in silence, with the occasional babble from Mayday. Peter, though, just continued to stare at the man in front of him. 

He was broken—pieces of him scattered across the memories of you and his daughter. It was all he seemed to think about in the shining sunlight or the dark, drastic moonlight. 

 “All I need is them, Pete.”

Peter nodded in understanding. He knew. He understood that kind of deep-set pain never went away, but Peter also knew that everything eventually got better. No, it wasn’t time. Time doesn’t heal all wounds, as the saying goes. 

Miles helped Peter. Miles dug Peter out from the sinking hole that he had been placed in by life and the atrocities that continued around him. It wasn’t time. It wasn’t sulking. It wasn’t crying in the shower.

It was Miles. The goofy, talented, and crazy smart kid made Peter realize he needed to take that leap of faith. He got therapy, cleaned himself up, and he got better. Honestly, for Miguel, Peter wasn’t sure the last time he saw the brooding man laugh—let alone smile at anyone or anything. 

What Peter didn’t know was that Miguel smiled quite often.

He smiled when he looked at the glass-shattered photo of you in his bedroom. He smiled at the video of you and his daughter making a mess in the kitchen. He smiled as he daydreams about what you would do if you saw him now with every single Spider-person in all of the universes. He smiled at the video he took of you on the beach with the sand scratching against your leg and wind blowing against your dress.

So in his defense, he smiles all the time. 

“C’mon, Miguel, stop!” You laughed. It was loud and boisterous against his ears, and he wanted to cherish the sound for all of eternity. 

He held onto you even tighter, the waves crashing up against his knees. His smile is bright—just as bright as yours. “I made a promise, pumpkin. If you don’t shout the words, I’ll drop you.”

You squealed in anticipation, and your hands only seemed to latch onto his shoulders even more. “date prisa ahora.” He whispers against your ear. You only seemed to grip onto him tighter, but your smile seemed even wider.

“Okay, okay!” You breathe, shoving your head into his neck. “Humph. Humph.” 

Miguel grinned. If you saw him now, you would see a certain teasing gleam in his eyes. “What was that? I can’t hear you, pumpkin.”

You screeched again in his arms as he faked a slip of your form. He was still grinning ear to ear, and he couldn’t get enough of the laughter that bubbled up around your protests to him.

Something deep and connected possessed his entire chest. He could feel that ounce of love that blossomed beneath his heart and prodded against his stomach.

“I love you!” You shouted. Some of the fellow vacationers along the beach had turned their heads at the booming sound. Miguel laughed—the sound rumbling against his chest, and it made you bounce in his arms. 

“Was that so hard?” His arms tightened around the underside of your neck and the other holding up your legs. He slowly, yet surely, backed up from the roaring ocean and cascading waves. 

“Extremely, and I’ll never say it again,” You teased. 

Miguel gasped in defense, placing a hand on his chest. Without the support, you shrieked and grabbed onto his shoulder. “Miguel!”

He shook his head, his smile only widening as he just couldn’t help it. “And just when I thought I was gonna say it right back, pumpkin.”

Miguel opened his eyes. Peter was still there with his daughter, which prompted a gut-punching sigh to release from his lips. He shook his head, desperately wanting the memory to no longer sear against his brain. He wanted it to be real.

“Just know you’re not alone, man.”

He nods. The pain of your passing. The ache of Gabriella’s passing. It was all becoming too much. He didn’t think it would hurt anybody, let alone the two of you. 

But he did. He really, really did. 

With that, Peter takes his leave. May had most likely needed a nap by now and was going to take her home to Mary Jane. He looked back one last time, and he swore he almost missed it.

A single tear slid down Miguel’s face as his eyes stayed locked onto the two headstones. It was as if his eyes couldn’t leave—like you and Gabi would be gone if he did. 

Ultimately, he knows he’s not alone. He’s never alone—not as long as yours and Gabriella’s memories are still etched into his brain.

He’s never alone. 

Miguel rubs his eyes, the sleep that hovered around them still prominent. He looked over to the bedside table to read the clock. 4:45 am. 

He heard a crash of pots and pans in the kitchen. A smile rose onto his face at the sound of laughter in the kitchen. He quietly puts on some pants that were discarded on the floor.

He then shuffles over to the door of the bedroom, and his feet pad against the wooded hallway. He hears another crash and then a gasp. His ears perch at the sound, and his shoulders tense—his mind thinking the worst. Then, his large frame sags in relief as he hears another fit of laughter and giggles. 

He finally makes his way into the kitchen, and it was a sight to be seen. Miguel leans on the doorframe while he watches you and his daughter. You two are covered in flour and sugar—from head to toe.

“Gabi!” You laughed, wiping some of the sticky dough from your cheek. She had just smeared some across your face in an attempt to get you back for getting chocolate on her arm.

“I got you!” She yells in glee. You laugh again at her antics and lean down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Yeah, kid. You definitely got me that time.”

Her eyes shine brightly up at you, and then they see the tall form in the corner of the kitchen. “Papa!” 

She runs over to him and crashes him into a hug. You turn around and smile at a very sleepy Miguel. You were tired too, but you also didn’t have a spider verse to run. 

“Gabi had insomnia again.” He nods in response. God, he was really tired. It was starting to become unbearable as his eyes slid close again. “Want to try a cookie?”

He decided right then and there. Fuck sleep. How the fuck could he say no to that?

Miguel blinked. He blinked once more. Before he knew it, tears cascaded down his face at the sweet memory of his family. 

He didn’t make a sound. He didn’t sob. He didn’t cry out. He just stood there and let the tears drip onto the grass. 

Miguel, you’re never alone. He reminds himself.

He is never alone.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o'hara fluff #marvel #marvel fanfiction #spiderman across the spiderverse #acros the spiderverse fanfiction #spiderman #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you

[adracat]

GWitch: A Tale of Two Calibans

In the Tempest, there is a character called Caliban. If you've seen episode 21 then this will sound familiar to you. We're told Guston and Belmeria need Suletta to pilot this monstrous gundam and it's without a permet filter. A true cannibal. Dire stuff, and not what we want for Suletta.

Yet I'm not entirely sure she will. Though she has some characteristics of Caliban, bound in servitude to Prospero, he's a symbol of impotent wrath beneath a slaver's chains, the injustice of colonialism, and failed revolution.

He loathes Prospero and is routinely tortured by the man's magic. Yet Suletta, even while outcast by her family, never succumbs to anger. Hers is a heart filled with love even as her Miranda (Eri) and master forsake her.

Caliban by contrast is unable to forgive Prospero for his misdeeds and scorned by Miranda's harsh treatment of him after her rejection. You can interpret that his love was true and he did not intend rape, but his affection for both Miranda and Prospero has soured into hatred.

It's a bit ill-fitting to place Suletta in the Caliban machine as a monstrous gundam capable of devouring its pilot. But then if it's not her, who else?

The Tempest describes Caliban as the son of a witch whom Prospero took as his servant. 'Hag-born, not honour'd with a human shape'

Elan 5, like Suletta, is the unnatural progeny of a 'witch', in this case Belmeria. And also subject to the injustices of Peil, his Prospero. He rankles beneath his fetters and wants more than anything to gain freedom. We're told Peil steals orphans to be used as research, the effects of space colonialism. He's the closest to a true Caliban this show has.

And like Suletta. he was rejected by Miranda. Only his was an attempted violation. It's no coincidence as I see it that 5lan aggressively harasses Suletta either. They are specifically invoking the Caliban parallel. And it's the same for his sympathetic moments

5lan wants freedom from his chains, to live freely without sacrificing himself for a corporation's whims. He's sly and angry but not without cause. And there's a certain weight to how he was forced into servitude wearing another man's face. It's like Suletta, but unlike her he does not serve with love. Only discontent.

As with Caliban, who allies himself with Trinculo and Stephano in the hopes of killing Prospero, I see 5lan doing the same. Him using a brutish path to freedom because it's all he knows and throwing it all on using a gundam, even if it means his death, would be fittng. We know he wants to live but in the wake of Norea's demise I wonder if he's concluded death is inevitable so why not take Peil down with him? This is just speculating on my part, but I did find his change in attitude strange. He's weirdly calm, it reminded me of 4lan. And that's not a good thing. Most tellingly, while Caliban rails against his master, he isn't freed; a message none of us want for Suletta.

I may very well be reading into things, as is my habit, but the fact these two are juxtoposed is significant. We do have two unanswered gundams coded with a black name, one male and the other female; Calibarn and Schwarzette.

#g witch #analysis and speculation #suletta mercury #elan 5 #elan ceres #g witch spoilers #gundam witch from mercury

[theworldofotps]

Lost Bets

Pairing: Hook x Reader Word Count: 2,017 Description: Listening to a few voice notes crushes your world.

Part Two

Listening to divorce dad playlists and that song Hate Me by Ellie Goulding and Juice WRLD created this. I got a majority of the idea from Juice's verse so I hope you all like it! Some angst, @madhatterbri I hope this wrecked you enough (If you've asked to be added to the list and you don't see your name, please let me know because I forget to write them down sometimes.) ________ Tag list: @omg-im-such-a-masochist @melissahausen​ @new-zealand-chic​ @writtingrose​ @99hook @sjwrites22​ @sassymox @mrsacklesevansmgk​ @xladyxfatex​ @biforrollynch​ @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch​ @demonqueen29​ @itsicantbelievethis666 @lilred91​ @rebellious-desires​ @claymorexpunisher @letsgivethisonemoreshot @ava-valerie @shortyiceheart @serpantscorpio8497​ @thatpanpal​ @thatnerdwriter @wrestlersownmyheart @vebner37​ @auburnwrites​ @aews-four-pillars​ @seeingstarks​ @whenimakeitshine1234​ @legit9thlunaticwarrior​ @blaquekitty​ @ironshamelessyouth​ @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin​ @ripleyswhore @moonrosekk @elevennbloom @melblacc @alliwant456 @xbreezymeadowsx @mcreignsera

If you wanna be added to the list lemme know. _______ When did it start? You didn’t know.

How long had it been going on?

Not a clue in your mind. But when you finally noticed that things between the two of you were rocky, suddenly you were scared and overthinking everything. What if he decided that he was tired of fighting and asked for a break? After all, it seemed like that was all you two did anymore. Arguing over stupid stuff, big or little, it was nearly every day that one of you were pissed about something. It hadn’t been like this in the beginning of your relationship, or for a while after. There was a love and connection that you’d never experienced with anyone before. Tyler coming home from traveling and shows to spend as much free time with you as humanly possible. All the backstage shenanigans, the late nights sat on the hood of his car snacking and chatting about any and everything you two could think of. You weren’t sure when things took a turn, but you wanted to offer an olive branch and try to fix things.

That’s why you were currently looking around backstage trying to find Tyler, two tickets to a movie he’d been wanting so badly to see for months in hand.

“Y/n what are you doing here?”

Turning at the familiar voice you give a slight wave to Maxwell and clear your throat holding the tickets up.

“I’m looking for Tyler I wanted to take him to a movie and dinner afterwards, have you seen him?”

“He left with Ethan and some of the guys a little while ago I think they were doing another of those vlog hunt things. I’m actually glad that you’re here I’ve been wanting to talk with you about something important but with Tyler around I haven’t had the opportunity.”

You did not like the sound of where this conversation was going but your curiosity got the better of you and you gave a nod of your head. Max motioned with his head for you to follow him, so you silently did fiddling with your fingers as you walked. You were a little confused on what he could want since you got with Tyler you could only recall two or three times you had spoken to the man considering you weren’t a big fan of his character, and he didn’t really care speaking to you anyway. When the two of you finally reached an empty corridor Max turned to you and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.

“Look I don’t really know how to say this and I’m not looking to start trouble, but I just figured it was best to tell you anyway. Tyler’s been playing you for a fool.”

“Excuse me?”

“Remember how you two go together?”

“Of course, I do, he came up after I got injured by Ruby and helped me to medical than we just started talking often. Then well the rest is self-explanatory.” “It may seem like that to you, but Tyler only came up to you because of a bet with Ethan Page. The wager basically was if Tyler could talk to one of the female wrestlers that normally they wouldn’t and could get her to fall for him than Ethan and the guys would pay for a couple of pricy items he’s had his eye on for a while.”

You couldn’t breathe, felt like the walls were closing in on you as your ears started ringing. Blinking you open your mouth to speak but stopped.

“I know this is sudden to you, but I figured it was time that you knew about all of this.”

“Why should I believe anything you say? You realize that what you’re saying is the only reason my boyfriend got with me was because of a bet.”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying look I’ve recorded a few conversations between him and the guys here is an important clip you need to listen to. I didn’t manage to get him calling you trash recorded but I go enough.”

Max pressed play on a voice note holding his phone out for you to listen, Tyler’s voice filled your ears as your eyes welled up with tears.

“So how’s everything going since we started this?”

“It’s going fine it’s a piece of cake man I’m telling you this is one of the easiest things I’ve ever done.”

“Are you sure you’re going to be able to keep it up much longer?”

“Of course, I can it’s no worries she’s completely clueless of everything. She trusts me more than anyone she’s even told me herself.”

“Here’s another one.” Max said as he pressed play on another note.

“It’s simple man you get, break and replace that’s exactly what’s been happening for years now, I don’t know how you’re able to do it.”

“Honestly Ethan it’s not that hard I mean come on it’s me we’re talking about ya know? I don’t even really have to try at this point, it just falls right into place. But I’m ready for this to be over already, I hate this.”

“You really are a coldhearted devil.”

When they started laughing you pushed his phone away from you and turned to look at the floor trying to collect yourself. Your heart felt like it was going to pound out of your chest as you pushed a shaky hand to wipe the sudden sweat from your forehead.

“Thank you, Maxwell, lets not tell anyone else about this please.”

“If that’s what you want.”

Giving a nod you cleared your throat and turned silently walking away from him you just needed to make it back to your car without breaking down. You couldn’t handle this, couldn’t believe this was happening. After everything you thought you meant to him but that was obviously a mistake on your part. Stumbling out of the building you got in your car and started it, peeling out of the lot. A lump had grown in your throat and no matter how many times you tried to clear it you couldn’t. Thankfully the company was going to be leaving New York tomorrow, so they could get on the road for their next stop. You needed to start looking for a new place to live, needed to gather all of your stuff before Tyler kicked you out.

Parking your car in your parking spot at his apartment complex you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes but managed to get out of the car and hurry inside. Once up in the apartment you just fell apart, sobbing into a couch pillow as you sat down. Part of you was hoping that you’d wake up from this nightmare with Tyler’s arm wrapped around your waist and your head on his chest. But that was quickly being chased away by the weight of reality.

Crying for a while longer you finally managed to get yourself together enough to start packing a suitcase. You wanted to be out of here before it got dark thankfully you had some money in the bank to get you a hotel room for a couple days. As you were pulling shirts off the hanger and shoving them in the suitcase you hear the front door close.

“No no please.”

You weren’t ready to face him, you couldn’t handle seeing his face yet you needed time you were just going to leave a note for him to find.

“Baby you in here?”

His voice called out from what you assumed was the lounge, staying silent you continued packing your suitcase. When he suddenly came into the room you kept your eyes down as he looked at you confused.

“Where are you headed too?”

Finding it difficult to speak, you stuffed some jeans and your laptop into the suitcase, grabbing your hairbrush and deodorant.

“What did I do now that has you pissed off?”

Stopping you stared at him, Tyler was startled to see your glassy red eyes and the tears falling down your cheeks.

“Baby what happened are you-.”

“Don’t come near me.”

You were trying to be strong but the crack in your voice betrayed the pain you were feeling as his eyes widened.

“What?”

“I know everything so I’m leaving.”

“Leaving? What the hell are you talking about?” “You know damn well what I’m talking about, the fact that you’re only dating me for a bet you made with fucking Ethan. I want to hear it from your own mouth, tell me you hate me. Tell me you think I’m trash and how replaceable I am.”

Tyler froze staring at you, with a shake of your head and giving a humorless laugh you shove more stuff in your suitcase.

“So, you don’t deny it, I can’t believe you Tyler what the fuck?! You played me like a toy, used me to get something that you could have saved up for. After everything I thought I actually meant something to you, I thought you loved me but this was just a game.”

“Who told you?”

“It’s not important who told me, it’s just important that I know and that you understand it’s not going to continue. I’m done, I want you to lose my number, don’t try and contact me. I don’t know why I’m even saying this it’s not like you care.”

Zipping the case shut you pick it up and shove your way past him setting your case on the floor and grabbing a few of the important things you had brought over.

“Y/n please lets talk about this.”

“Why so you can go into detail about how you were fucking with me, I gave you everything I had in this relationship. I love you and you were just toying with my heart I can’t believe you’d do this.”

“Wait please y/n.”

Grabbing your arm Tyler kept you from pulling away, it hurt your heart being so close to him when all you wanted was him to wrap his arms around you in a hug.

“Okay it’s true that I started talking to you as a bet, but I never intend for our relationship to go past being friends. And when it did, I wasn’t sure how to go about telling you, honestly, I didn’t think you’d ever find out about it so after a while I just stopped worrying. But I don’t think you’re trash, and I do have feelings for you.”

“You’re unbelievable. Don’t lie to me, I heard conversations between you and Ethan about how you weren’t sure how much longer you wanted to do this. And Ethan saying how you get, break and easily replace. I’m a human with emotions and feelings, not some little plaything that you can use until you’re bored. I don’t want to continue this conversation.”

“But y/n you need to listen to me about this please.”

Tyler wasn’t one to beg but at this point he’d beg for as long as he needed to, he wasn’t expecting this to be what he walked in on. And the fact you were packing a suitcase was making his chest hurt, he didn’t want you to leave. He needed to find out who told you this shit so he could kill them.

“Baby please reconsider I want to talk about all of this, I know I should have before but I’m sorry for not doing so.”

It broke his heart watching your eyes fill with tears as your bottom lip wobbled slightly you searched his face for a moment seemingly losing the fight in you.

“I can’t not right now, maybe not ever. Goodbye Tyler.”

Pulling your arm away from him you left the apartment, closing the door behind you and going down to your car. Tyler felt numb as he stood there staring at the door willing, hoping you’d change your mind and come back up. When he felt his phone buzz, he grabbed it quickly thinking maybe you had decided to text him. What he saw made him want to throw up all over the floor.

MJF: Checkmate asshole enjoy being single

#hook fanfiction #aew hook #hook x reader #tyler senerchia #hook aew

[draculasfavoritewife]

No Word For Hero

Summary: You love him and the way he will always be your protector, but sometimes facing the truth is the most terrifying thing of all.

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Warnings: Nightmares and discussions of death. The one-two punch of angst and fluffiness all in one. This one is a fair bit more somber than my other Mando stuff.

Another trope I will never ever get tired of -- the "having a nightmare while sleeping with your partner" routine! 🥳 Gets me in my feels every time, particularly with a character like Din who (to me at least) canonically also has frequent nightmares. I first drafted this one a couple summers ago as a result of all my feelings after that big moment in "The Marshal", as I'm sure will be obvious.

*Translations of less common words/phrases in Mando'a at the end

It's coming, exploding up from beneath the billowing sands, looming over everyone, titanic, monstrous, ravenous....

...He turns to you, ever so briefly, tilts his head in that meaningful look you know all too well...that damn look that means he's going to play hero again.

Damn his altruism.

When is he going to stop?

You already know that answer, too. It lurks forever in the back of your mind, awake or asleep, always whispering there, a constant venom ever deepening its grasp around your heart until one day the cold reality finally breaks it.

He'll stop when he finally doesn't come back to you.

When he's at last granted the warrior's death you know he desires.

Only then.

You can't even scream as he disappears down the dragon's throat, too frozen with horror to make a sound....

You bolt upright, gasping for breath, damp hair clinging to your face and tears running down, their salty tang sharp on your lips.

Stupid nightmares.

"Go away," you mutter, rubbing harshly at your eyes. "Just stop."

The cot is small, realistically much too small for two adults, and your distress is painfully evident to the man sharing it with you, whose arm has just been violently dislodged from its place around your torso.

"Bad dream?"

He sounds tired. He hardly ever sleeps through a full night at the best of times, and even then it's rarely a deep sleep.

If the old saying "sleep with one eye open" were actually true, Din would be its personification.

You curse your overactive mind a second time, for disturbing his precious few moments of rest along with your own.

"I'm fine." You don't lie back down, instead pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms tightly around them. Normally you find his quarters chilly, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins makes the room suddenly feel close and stuffy.

He shifts against you in the dark, no doubt to study your posture. "You don't sound fine."

You sigh. "I will be. You should try and get some sleep, Din."

You hear him lean back into the wall, a long exhale betraying stiffness somewhere in his muscles.

You've offered him the side of the bed that's not right up against the wall, but to your surprise he actually likes to be pressed closely between your body and the solidness of metal at his back.

You suspect it gives him a sense of security in a life that holds so little for him.

"I'm sorry I woke you," you add before he can speak again.

"You didn't." His revelation is cool and distant, as if his lack of rest means nothing to him. "I haven't slept at all tonight."

You turn to stare at him in dismay, only to be met with the void of deep darkness. "Why didn't you --"

"What? Wake you up to tell you I can't sleep?" Somehow you know he's shaking his head at you. "That fixes nothing, Cyar'ika. My sleep was disturbed since long before we met." His voice softens as he reaches for you, his large, comfortingly familiar hand stroking down your side. "But when I have you in my arms, listening to your breathing, I can at least find some peace. And that is often enough."

You let out another shuddering breath and gaze out into the dim compartment, the images from your nightmare replaying over and over behind your eyes like a holovid stuck on loop.

"I think I need some air," you murmur.

"Take my shirt, then." You're grateful he doesn't try to stop you; he knows you were taking care of yourself for a long time before you two struck up your partnership. He trusts you to look out for danger.

"Vor'e, Cyare." You slide from the bed, his fingers trailing away from your hip as you break from his gentle touch. He watches as you blindly take his shirt from the pile of clothes left on the floor and pull it over your head, pausing only to grab a vibroblade before exiting his quarters.

"I'll come back," you promise softly.

And the words sting deep down as they leave your lips, knowing that one day, one of you might not be able to keep that promise.

The night is cool and clear on this planet, and the breeze smells like living growth from the thick woods nearby. It's a far cry from the dust and smoke of so many of the worlds you've stayed on before, and soon you start to calm down, heartbeat returning to normal and perspiration drying at the wind's light touch. Everything is peaceful around you, the night birds calling and water flowing somewhere behind the trees.

Not for the first time, your thoughts stray towards the impossibility of trying to stay somewhere like this place, to drop everything you know and carve out a life on a frontier planet somewhere. You and Din and Grogu, living modestly and secretly away from the prying eyes of the Imperials or the Jedi, pretending at normalcy....

There's the key word.

Pretending.

You've played many parts since you lost your buir so many years ago. Dancer in the clubs of the Core worlds, thief, animal wrangler, pilot, hired gun. You could adapt, you feel fairly certain. It's the skill that's most reliably kept you alive this long.

But Din....

He's so deeply entrenched in his upbringing. His honor, and the hunt, mean everything to him. Whatever else he tries to be, he will always be the Mandalorian first and foremost. The Way runs through his veins, thicker than blood, and the fierce heart of a warrior beats beneath the beskar.

It's why he will ultimately always make sacrifices to keep those under his protection safe.

It's who he is. His identity.

The reason that one day he might not emerge from the belly of the beast in triumph.

And you love him, exactly the way he is. You'd never ask him to change.

But Maker, sometimes the knowledge of what that means hurts deeper than any physical wound.

So you stand there at the edge of the woods and let the tears come, let the sobs wrack your body as you bury yourself deeper in his comforting shirt, praying that the day never comes that all you have left are memories and clothes that smell like him.

Eventually, your grief runs its course and you can breathe once again. The crunch of footsteps in the damp grass warrants a side glance, but as you thought, it's only your beroya, come to check on you, no doubt.

"You've been out here a long time," he remarks.

"Had a lot on my mind."

He encircles you in his arms from behind, chin resting in the dip of your shoulder. You're surprised that he didn't replace his helmet to come out here, but sunrise is still a long way off.

"I'm usually the one with the nightmares," he teases softly. "This one must have been rough. Want to talk?"

You find his hands at your waist, interlock your fingers with his.

"I lost someone. Someone very important to me."

Turning slightly so you can rest your cheek against his, you kiss the very edge of his lips. "It scares me, Din."

He's quiet for some time, and you try to imagine the expression on his face.

"I'm sorry," he finally whispers. "I can't give you anything but my word that I will always try my hardest to come back to you. That is what fuels me, ner'kar'ta. The fire in my blood, the strength in my bones, is knowing that I need to make it back for you. But I realize that it is a double-edged blade. Because it also means I would give everything, to keep you safe in the end."

"I know, Din. I remember what my buir used to tell me, you know, how we have no word for 'hero' in our mother tongue, because to be Mando'ade is to risk all for the ones you love. I know I'm so selfish." You turn all the way around at last, hiding your face in his bare chest. "But I accept your vow. And it will have to be enough."

Collecting yourself and finally raising your haunted gaze to his, you manage a small smile. "But I will fight for you, Din Djarin. Death will find one hell of a struggle when it finally comes for you, I can promise you that."

"There's my girl." The fond grin in his voice is audible. "Now, will you come back to bed? It's getting lonesome in there."

You let him lead you back to the ship, and the sigh of the wind now seems to promise to whisk your fears away for the time being.

The door slides shut behind you, and you shiver, realizing all of a sudden just how cold you are. His shirt is a welcome barrier against the biting chill, and you wonder how he was able to get along without it outside.

"Cold?" he asks.

"Yes." You reach out for him, wordlessly begging for his warmth.

He sidesteps you and folds his arms across his chest. "Take it off," he demands, and indicates the shirt with a nod, husky voice brimming with humor and a shade of something hungrier. "Or I will."

You hug the worn fabric closer to your body and shake your head mutinously. "But it's the only thing keeping me warm!"

"So you've chosen the hard way." He crosses the small space in a couple of long strides and starts to tease the garment off of you, bit by agonizing bit. "And how dare you let a piece of clothing do a man's job."

"You're making me cold again," you complain as he pulls you into bed with him, the hunter retreating back to his lair to finish off his fortunate prey.

"Then honor dictates I repair the damage I've caused," he hums, and you surrender to the bliss of being completely enveloped in his embrace. Din has always run hot, ever since you started sleeping together, and his warmth and familiar weight are so much better than any sweet dream of yours could be.

In the here and now, he's still alive, and he's still yours.

There will be no more tears tonight.

"Better?" he growls into your throat.

You run your fingers through his thick curls, sighing at the way he always manages to banish all of your dark thoughts away. And maybe now there will even be time for him to get some sleep before morning as well.

"I am now."

Vor'e = Thank you

Buir = Parent

Beroya = Bounty Hunter

Ner'kar'ta = My heart

Mando'ade = Child of Mandalore

#din djarin #x reader #the mandalorian #bounty hunter #romance #mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #female reader #sentimental #favorite tropes #nightmare #comfort #star wars #self insert #a bit sad #bad dreams #soft din djarin #angst #hes so lovely #im not crying you are

[yanyanderes]

The yandere self aware concept is so appealing to me

The guy's falling inlove with the person in another universe? Yes, that's amazing. But, when they're yandere? That's some good shit

Imagine Donnie is desperate for reader to be with them, to the point he builds a machine that's supposed to be impossible to build cause of all the multiverse stuff but hey, he IS in a cartoon world so it isn't that impossible

The reader's so confused when they get transported into the rottmnt world, trying to process the scenerio happening to them while the guy's are so happy to actually meet you! They can protect them properly now :)

Reader getting isolated in the guy's home isn't a far fetched idea. If it guarantees reader's safety, why not?

Hey, why're you trying to leave? We're keeping you safe here!

oooh man, this one’s an old one sent back in october.

sorry it took so long! didn’t have any ideas at the time, so i kinda let this sit in my drafts and forgot to get back to it-

but anyways, this one’s a long one, so i put it under the cut.

“…it actually…!”

“i know… genius… thank me later…”

“…alright? ….been unconscious for…”

“i’m sure… soon.”

the voices all blend together. they all seem so familiar… yet (y/n) isn’t able to pinpoint who they belong to, or where they’ve heard them from, especially when their ears are still ringing.

they groan, their head throbbing in agony. what… happened? one moment, they were watching some cartoons on their laptop, and then…

they manage to pry their eyes open, only to shield them again when a bright light practically blinds them.

the ringing doesn’t stop, but it dies down, allowing (y/n) to hear the voices more clearly. they crane their head to the side and see four figures. three stand off to the side, talking amongst themselves, while the fourth is right next to their aching figure.

as their vision clears, they can’t help but think… are they hallucinating? did they have a concussion? there’s no way this is actually happening…

the figure closest to them seems to finally realize they’ve woken up, judging by the way they call out to the others.

“guys! they’re awake!”

(y/n) tries to sit up, yet the moment they do, they clutch their head in agony, a yell escaping their throat as they curl into a ball.

“hey, hey, take it easy.“

a hand rubs circles on their back. the speaker’s voice sounded so concerned for their well-being… hang on. they know that voice- in fact, they know all their voices!

“it’s you-! ah!”

(y/n) turns their head quickly. maybe a bit too quickly, since the pain quickly gets worse and they clutch their head yet again.

“i just told you to take it easy! here, lay back down.”

large yet gentle hands rest on their shoulders, ushering them to rest. even so, (y/n) stays upright.

“i- i know you! i know all of you! you’re- no, there’s no way…”

do their eyes deceive them? the fuzziness in their eyes slowly dissipates, and-

no. no, they don’t. these are in fact four talking mutant turtles standing in front of them.

“there’s no way, no way! i’m dreaming, aren’t i?”

“no, this is no dream, we are all very much real.”

“but- you’re from a tv show! this- this is so weird.”

“you think that’s weird?! imagine being us! we’re just minding our business, testing out mystic weapons, when all of a sudden we hear cheering!”

what?

“not gonna lie, it was kinda creepy at first, but-“

“but you were so sweet, we couldn’t help but love it!”

mikey wraps his arms around (y/n) and pulls them into a hug, the sudden motion making them woozy yet again.

“you called us cool, you cried when we cried, you cheered us on!”

“you- you heard all that??”

“of course we did! and can i just say, you were absolutely adorable while you were gushing over us.”

it takes a moment for (y/n) to process all this information.

they wake up on a table with a throbbing headache… in one of their favorite cartoons… and now they’re being told the characters were watching them as well.

this is kinda cool, but mostly… really freaky. especially with the way they’re acting with them.

“i- um- thanks?”

(y/n) is admittedly really nervous talking to them face-to-face, especially after learning they had been listening to everything they said about them.

“i’m- it’s a pleasure to meet you, but… how am i here?”

“oh, you have me to thank for that! you see, with me being the genius i am, i managed to construct a machine that could transport you from your dimension into ours!”

he what.

“you… what?!”

“i know! incredible, isn’t it?”

“there’s a way to go back, right?”

“you wanna leave already?”

mikey’s excitement quickly dies hearing (y/n)’s words. he releases them from a hug, and they can see the panicked, almost frantic look in his eyes.

“i mean, it’s really nice meeting you all, i just… have a lot of business to catch up on in my world, and i’d like to get back as soon as possible.”

“but- but- there’s so much we still have to do!”

“and you said you loved us, didn’t you? every time you showed up, you’d be all over us!”

“i know, i just-“

their eyes dart to donnie, hoping he would butt in to help their case. donnie and leo give a quick glance at each other, with leo giving donnie a small nod.

“of course. we understand, pulling you from your dimension and forcing you into ours was wrong, and we apologize. we’ll get to work immediately to rectify our mistake.”

(y/n) lets out a relieved sigh, happy to hear they would be going home soon. though, was it just them, or was donnie acting a bit… off?

they had little time to think on it when mikey’s grip on them returns, this time nearly crushing their ribs.

“donnie, what’re you doing?! they can’t leave yet! raph, tell them they can’t leave yet!”

(y/n)’s gaze flickers over to donnie, who was currently working with the machine that had brought them there. however, they can’t help but worry for the strange noises that emit from the machine…

raph is quick to distract them by stepping in the way, blocking donnie from their field of vision. no matter how they crane their neck, raph seems determined to stay in their sights.

“before you go, why don’t you rest a bit? donnie said something about headaches, are you alright? need me to get you anything? drinks? food? pillows?”

“you can have all the drinks, food, and pillows you want if you stay!”

“but i can’t, i have a life to live! family to take care of, friends to visit, a home to go back to-!”

“this can be your new home!”

the desperation in mikey’s voice only gets more noticeable as he talks more and more.

“we’ll love you, we’ll take care of you! you won’t have to worry about visiting anyone! we’ll give you everything you want!”

by this point, (y/n) had started struggling to get out of mikey’s death grip. what is up with these guys?? they never acted like this in the show!

“i already told you, i can’t-!”

BOOM

they’re interrupted by an explosion off to the side. no. no, this isn’t happening. raph steps out of the way and, to (y/n)’s horror, reveals the completely obliterated machinery that was supposed to bring them home.

“oh dear! it looks like my invention has spontaneously combusted! what in the world could have caused such an unfortunate event?”

(y/n)’s knows that tone of voice. the almost robotic way of speaking donnie uses only when he’s trying to lie. he did this on purpose.

“ahh, such a shame.”

leo doesn’t even try to hide his lack of concern, given his relaxed- almost pleased- expression, and the way he wraps an arm around (y/n)’s shoulders.

“how long will it take to fix that thing?”

“if we’re lucky, perhaps a year.”

those monsters.

“oh well. hey, don’t worry about it! you’ll love it here!”

liars.

“we’ve been getting ready for this day for weeks! we’ve got a room just for you, with all your favorite snacks, and a bunch of games and movies we think you’ll enjoy!”

psychopaths.

“don’t worry, (y/n)! we’ll take care of you. we promise.”

‘take me home’.

didn’t know how to end this-

#yandere tmnt #yandere rottmnt #yandere teenage mutant ninja turtles #yandere rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #yandere tmnt 2018 #yandere raph #yandere leo #yandere donnie #yandere mikey #yandere #yan-asks

[peterman-spideyparker]

Horses and Zebras (College!Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: I wrote this a bit ago with the intention of having this be smutty, but what I was coming up with just didn’t feel right, so I pivoted and turned it into this. I wanted to use a gif of college Matt but this one popped up, and I will never not use a gif of Tristan Thorn if given the chance and I’m also sorry for the sucky title. It might have a second part, but that’s TBD. Enjoy! :)

Summary: You’re in the medical program at Columbia, but you have some space in your schedule to take an elective, so you opt for a health policy and law class. What you don’t expect is meeting a handsome, blind law student.

Warnings: Fluff, flirting, medical jargon, angst (mentions of death, medical diseases), swearing

Other Characters: Foggy Nelson

Word Count: 2,184

“Is this seat taken?” you hear a smooth, deep voice ask to your right as you take out your notebook and pencil case.

“It’s up for grabs,” you say with a smile as you turn to look at the asker. You feel your cheeks burn hot when you see the handsome man with brown hair, navy sweater, and sunglasses standing with a soft smile. He shifts the cane in his hands as he puts his bag down and begins unpacking his things. “I’m (Y/N), by the way.”

“Matt,” he returns as he settles. “Are you a 2L or a 3L?”

“I’m actually a med student—year and a half left.”

His thick eyebrows scrunch and his lips turn into a confused frown. “They’re letting a med student take a law class?”

“Well, it’s a health law and policy class. I’ve taken some summer courses to get ahead, and my advisor vouched for me. I figured if I’m going to be a doctor, I should try to help them and advocate for them as much as I can. Even if I know a little of it, I hope it would be a big help for some patients.”

“Wow,” he says softly. “You don’t really meet people that think like that.”

“Tell me about it. There’s this guy in my class, right? Stephen. He’s thinks he’s a real hot-shot surgical godsend, when really he’s just an egomaniac that always has to be the one holding the knife.”

“Sounds like a real dick,” he says with a sympathetic pout.

“There’s always people like that in any profession, I guess. Any people like that come to mind in the law program? Or am I talking to one?”

“I guess it depends on who you ask.”

“Mm,” you hum with a little smirk. “Sounds like a yes for the second to me.”

Matt smiles and licks his lips. It looks like he is just about to say something else when the professor walks in with her briefcase.

“Good morning and welcome to Intro to Health Law Advocacy. Now, we will be starting with medical ethics, and from there, segue into medical malpractice—which is slightly askew from the way it’s organized in the book. If you’ll open your textbooks to chapter eight . . .”

“How are you not worried about this exam?” Matt asks, flipping through his notes on his bed, taking off his glasses and putting them to the side, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Well, so far, I’m already familiar with these things,” you sigh as you turn on the chair at his desk. “We covered them the first or second year of the med program. I really haven’t learned anything new that will help me as a doctor. This class isn’t what I thought it would be, and I’m starting to think that’s why they let a med student take a law class.”

“So, what exactly are you studying right now, then?”

“Advanced abdominal and reproductive anatomy and diseases.”

“Ew,” he grimaces.

“Eh, it’s not bad. Some of my friends and I have done the ‘What’s my disease?’ game with all the symptoms and stuff, it’s just making sure I get these muscles right.” 

“How can I help?”

You lightly scoff. “Matthew, are you trying to get out of studying?”

“I would never,” he says in mock offense, a wry smirk almost immediately pulling at his lips. 

“It’s good you’re practicing your lying now,” you laugh as you move to make a highlight in your notes. “You really wouldn’t want something that bad presented in court.”

“Seriously, though,” he offers after he stops laughing. “I need a bit of a study break, honestly. How can I help you?”

“You could always just sit there and tell me how pretty I am.”

“(Y/N).”

“Matt, I appreciate it, but I don’t know if you can. Unless you want to be a live model, that is.”

“How so?”

You sigh, regretting even having brought it up. “It’s one thing to read it and look at diagrams, but it’s another thing to actually do it on a person.”

“Okay. So,” Matt draws out, putting a tab in his book. “I could lie down, and you’d poke and prod and tell me what you’d feel if I was a patient with one of the things in your book?”

“Yeah, I guess. Would you be comfortable with that?”

Matt nods. “I need a break from these laws—my fingers can’t take it anymore.”

“Alright, then.”

You know to do this, Matt would have to take his shirt off, but you’re not quite prepared for when he does. You can tell that Matt is in shape just by looking at him, but seeing how sculpted he is, the defined dips and curves of his muscles on his taut and smooth skin, you’re not prepared for how your mouth waters. Laying down on the twin bed, he lifts his arms, folding his hands behind his head, resting all nonchalantly with a cocky smirk on his lips.

“You alright there, doctor?” he asks, shifting ever so slightly and making his muscles flex.

“I’m not a doctor yet, Matty,” you tell him, grabbing your notes before you get up.

“You don’t need those.”

“How do you expect me to tell you which uncommon disease that you fictionally have when I poke you in certain places? It’s not like you know the symptoms.”

“You use your memory, sweetheart, that’s how.”

Your cheeks burn hot at the nickname, but it’s enough to convince you to put down your notes. 

“Okay,” you start, moving forward as you retie your ponytail. “Let me start with something easy just to get going. Appendicitis. Appendix becomes inflamed from infection and fills with pus. Pain is caused in the lower right abdomen, usually starting right around here.” You apply light pressure near his belly button on his rock hard abs. How does he have abs this great? “Pain will lessen the pressure is applied, but will get worse when my fingers get removed.” I mimic my motion with my words.

“Ow, it hurts really bad,” Matt adds for effect with a pout, making you giggle. “Doc, you gotta help me.”

“Well, you don’t have a fever,” you play along, feeling his forehead with the back of your hand. “Not nauseous, either. Could just be gas. But, if you do later on, it hurts when you cough, walk, or laugh, and the pain shifts here and your abdomen becomes rigid—,” you continue, moving your fingers lower, “—that’s then we have an issue. An ultrasound will confirm it’s an appendicitis.”

“Easy enough.” Matt’s tone is cool, but the blush on his chest, neck, and cheeks say otherwise. “What’s one of the rarer ones?”

“Well, that’d be something like Hirschsprung’s disease. It’s when there’s a lack of nerve cell bodies in part of the bowel. People are born with it, but it might not develop until later in life. Pain can present anywhere.”

“Well, that doesn’t make diagnosis sound easy.”

“It’s not as common. One of the first things you’re told is to look for horses not zebras; what someone might thinks is uncommon is actually something common presenting differently.”

“Then what happens when it’s actually uncommon?”

“People end up going to multiple doctors,” you sigh. “Or, they realize it’s uncommon when it’s too late. And the sad thing is, it happens—it happens a lot more to female patients than male patients because . . . fuck, I don’t know, people think women are weak.”

“You sound like you’re talking from experience.”

“Cuz I am.” You sit down on the edge of the mattress, your shoulders slumping forward as you hang your head. “One of my closest friends in high school, she was so incredibly fit and healthy, but she hadn’t been feeling right. One doctor said it was the flu, a physician’s assistant said it was PMS, another said it might be something carcinogenic. Then one day our senior year when she was at home, she just collapsed. After a week, they figured out it was a neurological disease. It ran in her family, but it hadn’t manifested in anyone. And by the end of that week, she was gone.”

“(Y/N), I’m so sorry,” Matt says softly, sitting up and putting his hand on yours.

“I’m so afraid of turning into one of those doctors,” you breathe quietly. “I don’t want to worry anyone for no reason, to put them through unnecessary tests that insurance might not cover and they might not be able to afford. But I’m so worried that one day, I’m just going to convince myself that one of those zebras is a horse, and then someone else will lose their best friend.”

“We haven’t known each other for long, but I like to think that in the semester I’ve known you, I’ve gotten to know you well. So I know that when you become a doctor, you will treat every one of your patients with respect, kindness, and compassion. You’ll listen to them and their concerns, and do the absolute best to give them the care they need. If you think there’s a zebra in the room, I know you’ll trust your gut and approach it in the right way. It’s not gonna be easy, and it won’t be without its difficult times, but I have every last faith in you and your abilities.”

“I don’t think you know how much that means to me to hear,” you admit, your voice thick with emotion. “You really are going to be a great lawyer, Matt. And I’m not just saying that. A lot of the same nice things you just said about me apply to you, though. You’re kind, compassionate, and you just want to help. There’s nothing more admirable than that.”

You feel electricity move across your skin when he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. Your noses touch before you tilt your heads to the side so they slot better together, your lips millimeters apart before the door to his dorm opens.

“Guess who just got a date with Marci!” Foggy cheers triumphantly as he comes into the room, stuttering to a halt when he registers how you and Matt slide away from one another. “Sorry, I di—.”

“No—,” you start.

“Fog, we—,” Matt says over you.

“I should get going, anyways,” you say as you stand to gather your things. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow, Matt.”

“I’ll see you,” he says softly. “Text me when you get back to your dorm safe.”

“Will do. Night.”

As soon as you close the door to their room, you can immediately hear Foggy start profusely apologizing.

“Dude, I didn’t know! I’m so sorry—,” he starts.

“Fog, keep your voice down!” Matt hushes him urgently. “She can hear you!”

“She’s probably all the way down the hall at this point. Is that the hot med student you’ve been telling me about?”

“Fog—!”

“Don’t pull that ‘How would I know they’re hot’ shit—you always find the prettiest girls and ensnare them in your Murdock charm.”

You can’t help but giggle as you walk down the hall and start back to your place. So . . . Matt has talked about you to Foggy. You guess you can tick that off of your curiosity list. You wonder what exactly he’s told his best friend about. You’re so lost in thought and reliant on muscle memory that you don’t realize you’re back in your place until you slump your bag off your shoulders and it hits the floor. Pulling out your phone, you lean against the door and begin to text Matt.

“Your hot med student friend is safe in her dorm,” you type, grinning like an idiot as you bite your lip.

It takes him a little bit to respond.

“I’m glad,” he says with a little smiley face emoji. Another text bubbles before it disappears, reappears, and I have a new text on my screen. “I’m sorry for what Foggy said.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“So you did hear it. Eavesdropper ;).”

“I heard enough of it.”

You grow nervous when he doesn’t text back right away. In an effort to shake off the discomfort at the potential crater you might just have carved into your friendship, you change into your pajamas and grab what you need to start studying for you other classes. Just as you get in the right study spot, your phone buzzes to life with a text.

“You’re not mad?” it reads. 

“At you? Impossible.” Your finger hovers over the send button, wondering if it would push the envelope too much for the night, but then you remember the initial text you sent over, getting enough courage to click down on the blue circle with the arrow. “If you need me for anything, I’m just a text away.”

“Good to know. There’s no way I’m making it through this without you.”

Does . . . Does he mean the test? The class? He is too flirty for his own good. But you know one thing for sure: you have a big, fat, undeniable crush on Matt Murdock.

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[femaletwstsupremacy]

Hello! I don't know if this is overly specific but could I request Malleus, Lilia, and Vil with a fem reader who is a very straight laced, formal, private type of person but beneath that mask cares immensely about the people around them and wants to protect them?

(No worries if not lol...I understand it's kind of hyperspecific.)

"𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙙."

✦ Content – Fem! twst, fluff, maybe some crack sprinkled in there? Throwing shade on Crowley, Reader is kind of a simp in Vil's part, A little suggestive (Lilia), mentions of gaslighting (Lilia spread her craziness to reader, hope they never recover🙏), general romance stuff, One/Oneself and You/Your are used to refer to reader, reader is a resident of Ramshackle.

Author's note: Hi anon, sorry this took a while to pump out. But it's here now so hooray! ♪(^∇^*) Not beta-read! Lilia might be ooc since I'm not used to writing her character-

MALLEUS DRACONIA...QUEEN OF BRIARS

You couldn't exactly keep your private life a secret from her since when you first met she was kinda already in it. As in, you're there outside Ramshackle busying yourself with a certain pastime when you suddenly get jumpscared by a woman – One that appeared out of thin air mind you – looking over your shoulder. Seemingly interested in what you were doing before she scared the daylights out of you. Obviously your first instinct is to try and elbow this random stranger behind you (key word: Try) which you failed miserably in because she had effortlessly dodged your blow.

Safe to say, your first meeting was awkward. It took about 5 mins for you two to stop staring at each other blankly as if you hadn't just tried to elbow her.

"If I may ask, who are you? Most importantly how did you even get here?"

"I was on a walk."

"That doesn't explain anything."

Eventually, you two get over the awkwardness. Obviously, Malleus doesn't divulge her name – Neither does she ask for yours. Calling you 'child of man' whilst you called her 'Tsunochojo' which earned you quite the chuckle from the fae. You two hit it off pretty well, what with your similar mannerisms it wasn't that unexpected. Malleus found conversations with you easy, with how interested you are every time she converses with you she needn't worry about being too 'boring' to talk to.

Eventually, Malleus finds herself coming back each night just to talk with you, though she doesn't have an inkling as to why. She just feels...a sort of attachment to you. As if the day she stops visiting you would instantly cut off the bond you two have created. Malleus' eyes widen as everything starts to click, are you two...perhaps friends..? Malleus instantly decides to confirm this with you come your next meeting.

It was very late into the night.

Though you've made it a point for yourself to have an optimal amount of time for sleep. However, a certain friend of yours decided that it was best to meet at the darkest of night. You sighed to yourself, The things you'd do for her...

No matter, no use mourning over past decisions. You thought wistfully.

You leaned back slightly on the palms of your hands, lightly raising your head to look at the bright moon overlooking from above. Crickets lightly chirped from around you, along with the sound of the soft rustling of leaves. You hummed a tune familiar to yourself as you closed your eyes to take in the relaxing atmosphere.

When you opened them, a small green firefly came into your peripheral vision. You reached out, trying to take it into your hand. But your efforts – although insignificant – are for naught as the firefly drifts farther away. Feeling slightly dejected, you placed your hand back into its former position. Just when you were about to close your eyes to enjoy the tranquil atmosphere once more, a melodious laugh suddenly enters your ears. With not even a hint of surprise, you turn to look from behind and face your surprise guest. There Malleus stood with her chin between her fingers, a broad smile on her lips.

"How long have you been standing there?" You asked curiously. In truth, she'd been here for a while. Watching you closely in the cover of darkness, not saying word until she saw your silly gesture and couldn't help the laugh that fell out.

"I've just arrived" She says, an obvious lie falling from her lips. Though, you don't mind all that much. You've already known that your friend is quite elusive, so you didn't pry. You lightly patted the spot next to you, inviting Malleus to take a seat.

Malleus obliges and sits down next to you. A wave a restlessness washes over Malleus, though she doesn't show it on her expression. The both of you stay silent for a while before Malleus spoke up, "Child of man..." She trails off, chewing her lip slightly in nervousness. You perk up at the sound of her voice, waiting for her to continue with an attentive ear.

"Are...are we friends?" She asks, reluctance in her tone whilst she turns her head away. Her question was greeted with a long pause. Malleus felt uncertainty gnawing at her insides, was she perhaps wrong to think she finally had a friend?

A light laugh takes Malleus out of her depressing thoughts, making Malleus turn her head back to look at you.

"Silly tsunochojo, what made you think we weren't friends?" You had on a soft smile on your face, your eyes filled with mirth. Malleus' eyes widened at this. This is the first time she had seen such an expression, her heart can't help but throb at the sight. Warmth spread through her body, she couldn't tell if the euphoria came from your smile or the fact that you confirmed that you were actual friends; Perhaps it was both.

But accompanying that feeling of euphoria was immense relief. All her worries and pessimism had all been for nothing and she is more than glad that is the case.

Seeing how silent Malleus had been your expression shifted to one of confusion. Noticing this, Malleus snapped out of her stupor and cleared her throat.

"It..." Malleus pauses, attempting to formulate a response. "It was just a silly thought of mine." She finishes, a fond smile on her face.

Truly, a silly thought indeed...

LILIA VANROUGE...SEEKER OF CRADLES

Scared you to death by coming down from the ceiling upside down and making an ungodly screech. Not the best first meeting, Malleus really takes after this cheeky fae in this aspect. Though she did apologize right after, it didn't really sound like she was sorry about it with the giggles she let out while doing so. How could she not? Your reaction was priceless! It might as well keep her laughing for days. Thus, you have sparked the interest of the cheeky fae.

Day after day, Lilia would suddenly pop out of nowhere to scare you. In her own words, your reactions just keeps getting even funnier! The way you look when you brace yourself for a scare and failing miserably to catch her beforehand, is very endearing to her. At this point, you've already given up on stopping her. Though her company wasn't that bad you think to yourself. Usually after scaring you, Lilia would come down from her spot and strike a conversation with you.

It was pleasant to say the least, her voice was calming and pleasant to the ear. Paired with her choice of words, you feel as if you're transported to another world when she tells you stories of the past in great detail. You would find yourself conversing with her for hours, only ending when need be. Likewise, Lilia finds her time with you very pleasant. Precious even, with how much fun she had. The way you speak is so cute to her! Reminds her of how Malleus is like.

Eventually, Lilia starts inviting you to Diasomnia to have tea with her. By now you've already opened up to Lilia and talked about yourself more rather than just general matters. Making the topics for your conversations more broader, not to say that you and Lilia couldn't find stuff to talk about. Anything and everything was on the table when it comes to her. From music, to poetry, and somehow frog anatomy??? You don't exactly remember how you've even made it to that topic. But as the months go by, you start to notice Lilia's strange behaviors. It happened one time when you were having tea with her. You were having a wonderful time when Lilia suddenly rose from her seat and walked over to your side of the table. Confused, you asked her what she was doing. And Lilia being Lilia, just chuckled and told you to sit still with no intention of telling you what's on her mind until she does it.

You jumped when you felt Lilia's hands card through your hair, not used to your hair being brushed through after so long. But eventually you relaxed and let Lilia do her thing. This went on for an hour before Lilia finally stopped her ministrations on your hair. At the time, you thought that would be the end of it. Oh, how wrong you were.

"Lilia...please.." You say helplessly, but your pleas fall on deaf ears as Lilia continues to coo at you while she plays with your hair. If in the past, you knew that letting Lilia play with your hair the first time would lead to this; You would have never let her do so. Since for the past few days you've visited, Lilia would – without fail – start to play with your hair and coo at you for hours on end.

This was one of those times. "Oh, you're so adorable beastie~" Lilia coos in your ear as she slowly drags the tip of her finger from your chin to your jawline. Oh, now this was new. You could feel your whole body shiver from the feeling of Lilia's breath on your ear. Your face starts to heat up as you close your eyes shut, "Lilia, please don't do that. It's not proper." You scold, though it doesn't sound all that much like a scolding with how small your voice was. Lilia just chuckles in response, clearly amused with your reaction.

Still with your eyes shut, you could feel Lilia playing with your hair again. With an occasional crafty hand brushing against your neck. But other than that, Lilia had done nothing more for the next few minutes.

The room had settled into a relative silence, only the click of Lilia's heels every time she shifted her footing could be heard every few seconds. However, unlike reality your mind was a cluttering mess. If one were able to listen in to your thoughts, they would only be able to make out the words: Lilia, embarrassing, and a multitude of curse words accompanied by screaming.

Just what happened there???

That one thought is the best way to summarize everything that was in your head. You had goosebumps just thinking about it, even worse was that it was a good type of goosebumps. You can't believe yourself for reacting the way you did. Perhaps it had been the potion you drank accidentally days ago...

Your woeful thoughts came to a halt when you no longer felt the light tugs on your hair from Lilia's brushing. Your eyes – which had stayed closed – flew open. You quickly raised your head to look around, but as you do so a sudden pair hands grab your face. You instantly felt your fight or flight instinct go up. Unfortunately, before you could even take a hit at your assailant, they had put your lips on yours!

Your eyes widened in shock, a feeling of shame settling in your gut. You screwed your eyes shut, adamant at not looking properly at the assailant who took your first (first!) kiss. After what felt like an eternity, they had finally pulled away from your lips. You gasped out embarrassingly when they had done so.

You weren't given the chance gather your thoughts properly when a familiar chuckle of amusement echoed on the walls, giving you another (unhealthy) dose of shock.

"Lilia!!???" You say incredulously, your voice a tad bit louder than you had intended. Lilia hummed, acknowledging your call. The best way to describe your positions at the moment would be 'face-to-face.' Since the cheeky fae was quite literally in your face, upside down too! You sighed out, almost forgetting the situation at hand; almost. But unfortunately, the memory and embarrassment was still fresh in your mind. Enough to make you disregard Lilia's awkward position.

You cleared your throat in an attempt to make yourself much more composed that you actually are and faced Lilia with a complicated expression, "What...what was that?" You asked, bewilderment and hesitance evident in your speech.

Lilia raised her eyebrows at you, though admittedly it looked a bit silly when she was upside down. "Wasn't it obvious beastie?" Lilia shot your question with another one of her own, you don't know whether to laugh or cry at that. Your mouth opened as if to answer her, but you close your mouth once more when you realize that you don't have the words for it.

The way you gaped like a fish out of water was enough to make Lilia chuckle fondly. "Don't laugh at me." You whine out, the color in your cheeks resurfacing once more.

You decide to let Lilia laugh it off until she can no longer let out a giggle. While she does that, you start thinking. Lilia can't be feeling what you think she feels, right? Right? But no matter how much you try to delude yourself, the fact is plain to see. Even someone as dense as Silver and Kalim combined could see it! You could keep trying to gaslight yourself but you'd be too far gone if you did that.

The urge to bury your face into your hands was strong. But since you had a one person audience (Lilia), you settled on not doing so. Instead you touched your lips delicately, tracing the whole of where Lilia had put her lips. The longer you touch your lips, the more stuffy your heart gets. Almost to the point it hurts. Your motions pause as you catch up to your thoughts, Ah...it seems that you share the same affection Lilia feels...

VIL SCHÖNHEIT...THE FAIREST QUEEN

Your meeting was entirely by chance. There was a research project for Magic History and you just so happened to get paired up with Vil. First impressions between you two were mild, with no particular dislikes about each other. You run over the details of the project with her and eventually decide to meet at the library at 5pm to work on it. By the time you had to meet up, Vil was pleasantly surprised. Not only did you not skip out on her but you arrived at 5pm on the dot. You really are punctual aren't you? Vil thought.

When both of you discussed the details earlier, Vil thought you only spoke that way because you were in class. But it turns out you normally spoke that way. In a sense, she appreciated it, much more pleasing to the ears than Leona's crass vocabulary. Thus, you two went to work. While doing so, Vil took the chance to examine your appearance more carefully. Your hair was tied back into a clean hairdo, thus making sure no stray hairs would accidentally get in your face. You had on the proper uniform, not one part of it missing or unbuttoned. Vil also took notice of the lack of creases on your uniform and gave her silent praise.

You two finished the project in one sitting with flying colors. Vil is more than grateful to you for that. As you went to pack up your things, Vil invited you to come to a small cafe on the island as a payment of your efforts of sorts. You put up quite the argument on how that isn't necessary but Vil still managed to make you succumb to her wishes. Tomorrow, at 3pm sharp. Is the words that Vil had departed with, a bright smile on her face. You can't help but feel a strange dread for what's about to come in the following day.

You made sure to look presentable on the day, you didn't have much fashionable wear packed with you since you expected to stay exclusively on campus. You sighed out, you never expected Vil to be so pushy. After checking over your outfit one last time, you departed from school grounds. Vil was already there with a table, waiting for your arrival. You walked over and was stunned into silence because of Vil's appearance. Don't get yourself wrong, you knew Vil was beautiful. But right now, she seemed even more dazzling. Vil slightly smiled once she caught sight of you and ushered you over to sit with her, all while you stared dumbly at her.

Once you finally came to your senses, shame enveloped your whole body. How could you just stare at her so shamelessly like that??? You sigh inwardly. No matter, it's not like you can turn back time anyway. You sat down with Vil, looking anywhere other than her due to embarrassment. Now that you were here, Vil ordered for you both. As you wait for your orders to arrive, Vil indulges in some small talk with you. How was your stay at night raven, what have you been doing today, any hobbies, etc. You answered all her questions amicably, giving her questions of your own from time to time. Minutes pass by and the waiter places your orders on the table with a well-practiced customer service smile. But even when your food was on the table, the conversation did not cease. Though, you both make sure to talk between bites and sips so neither party chokes.

Hours passed by seamlessly, you almost didn't realize it was getting late. You enjoyed your company far too much that it slipped your mind. And from Vil's expression, you could guess that the feeling was mutual. Before you two set off on your separate ways, Vil invited you to hang out again. And again, and again. Every time you cross paths it almost feels as if you'd both get closer by the second. Eventually, Vil decides that the next time you meet, it would be in her room.

You arrived at 1pm just as Vil told you, going through the mirror when you weren't from the dorm was...awkward to say the least. The awkwardness spiked by ten times when you made it to the other side.

Now, standing in front of the dorm's pristine gates makes one feel...extremely out of place. You sighed in self-pity, just how did you manage to end up in this situation...You hardened your heart. In the end, there was not much you could do since you were already here, so you took the chance to look at your surroundings. As expected, the dorm was massive. What was unexpected but expected was that the dorm looked like a queen's lofty castle. On one hand, it made sense. The dorm was based off the Fairest Queen, so naturally they would pay tribute by making the dorm like her residence. But on another hand, isn't this a dorm for students!? They might as well be royals to be living in there!

You looked around some more and came to a conclusion. Everything about Pomefiore's decor screamed extravagance at every turn. The fact that you're not even inside makes you more reluctant to go...

You're dragged out of your thoughts by a sudden enthusiastic voice from beside your ear. You yelped in surprise. Swiftly, you turned to see just who sneaked up on you.

"Bonjour! It's a pleasure to see you today mademoiselle." Your assailant exclaimed. She had on a wide smile, her eyes shaped like crescents. Whilst she said those words, she tipped her hat in greeting. From her looks, you could say that she greatly embodied the word, 'charming.' Her makeup was very well done, almost as if a professional had done it. And her voice was full and melodious. From her uniform, you can clearly tell she was from Pomefiore.

Well, her looks is certainly worthy of being a Pomefiore student. You praised inwardly. Seeing that you haven't responded yet, your assailant called out to you again in a confused tone, "Mademoiselle?" You let out a small 'ah' in response and instantly straightened yourself up. You cleared your throat in an attempt to regain your dignity and spoke up "I apologize for staying silent and screaming when you greeted me." Inwardly you thought, Technically she snuck up on me but it would be bad manners if I said that...

Your assailant brightened her expression once more, "Aucun problème! You must be Vil's guest I assume?" She inquired.

"Ah, yes. I am. Are you perhaps familiar with her?" You questioned.

"But why of course! I'm her Vice after all. Rook Hunt at your service.~" Your assailant, which you now know as Rook answered, taking her hat off her head and putting it to her chest whilst she introduced herself. Her upper body leaning forward in a bow. She continued, "Vil should be waiting for you inside, I'll escort you in."

You hum in acknowledgement as Rook stands up straight once more. She turns, reaching out to you with a beckoning hand. You oblige and follow her through the dorms gates.

As one expects, the inside is far more extravagant than the outside. Pomefiore is truly worthy of being the dorm of the Fairest Queen. The marble floors were so pristine that you could see your reflection. You worry that your shoes could perhaps sully the floor. You continue to walk on and follow Rook from behind, occasionally looking around to admire the interior. Eventually she stopped, signaling that you've arrived at your destination. Rook turned to you and extended her hand towards the front of a lavish door, beckoning you to knock. You do so, knocking on the door three times before taking a step back and waiting for it to open. A few seconds passed and eventually the door opened to reveal Vil.

Her hair was tied back in a braided bun, her bangs going over the intricate golden crown on her head. She had on her dorm uniform, her long sleeves making an elegant trail on her figure. Her makeup was impeccable as one would expect. Making her already beautiful face much more beautiful than before. You can't help but blush a little and stare at her awestruck. You're once again dragged out of your stupor when Vil greets you with a small smile, she moves aside from the door and invites you in. You bow your head slightly before coming in through the door.

Stepping into Vil's room could easily make one feel overwhelmed, You're no exception. You weren't given the chance to look around properly when Vil ushers you to sit by her vanity table.

Once you've sat down, Vil starts to roam around the room grabbing multiple bottles and hair appliances. When she felt that what she had was enough, she starts to line them up on the table at a quick pace. You try to read some the brand names from bottles Vil had already placed down and as expected, you don't know a single one. Not like that so called 'ever so gracious' Crowley even gave you the luxury having any branded item from this world, he's quite cheap despite being a headmaster of a revered school.

You continue to skim through the brands, making a face or two at some of the strange name choices. Some noteworthy ones would have to be 'Poison Apple' ' Sun Mane' 'Underworld Fire' etc. Even if in another world, companies will continue to be weird with their names.

The distinct sound of bottles being set down on the tables suddenly stopped, you averted your attention from the bottles and instead directed it to Vil. You look at her in slight curiosity, waiting to see her next move. Vil just smiles softly in response before sating your curiosity, "We'll be doing your hair this time around, I've noticed that your hair isn't all that well maintained." Vil says as she moves to stand behind your seat. The dorm leader takes a part of your hair and displays it through the mirror to further establish her point.

You smile sheepishly at her words. While you do make it a point to take care of your appearance, you don't exactly have the resources for it. The money you were provided with came solely from Crowley but it was only the bare minimum for survival. You say so to Vil and she visibly frowns at your explanation.

"I knew the headmaster was incompetent in some ways but this is just ridiculous." Vil says with viciousness in her tone, her lips twisting into one of a scowl as she starts to brush oils through your hair. "This is about the well-being of a student! How could she not provide the necessary resources!?" Vil continues on with her rant whilst brushing through your hair. You don't stop her from criticizing Crowley, letting her run her mouth however she liked. It's not like any of her words were false anyway.

You settled on closing your eyes and taking in the relaxing feeling of Vil's nails lightly scratching against your scalp as she applies more product into your hair. Noticing your relaxed state, Vil quieted down and started to work silently on your hair.

The muted sounds of bottles, curlers and straighteners clinking against the surface of the table and an occasional hum from Vil were the only things you heard in the past few minutes. The sounds only adding more to the relaxing atmosphere. You sigh out, you felt like shedding tears because of the service Vil is providing you after so long of having none of it.

Vil chuckles near your ear, startling you enough to open your eyes. "We're finished." Upon hearing her words, you shift your gaze to the mirror and you feel your breath leave you for a moment. You look stunning, more than you had ever been these past few months. The urge to cry came back stronger now, your eyes starting to get watery. You tearfully see Vil smile softly through the mirror. With her soft hands, she tucks a stray strand behind your ear and places her hands on your shoulders, looking at you through the mirror with undeniable affection.

"You look beautiful."

Made by @femaletwstsupremacy. Please do not copy, use, or steal my work.

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twst #twst #genderbent #genderswap #Fem twst #Female twst #malleus draconia #twst malleus #fem malleus #female malleus #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia x you #malleus x reader #malleus x yuu #twisted wonderland malleus #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia x reader #twst lilia #twisted wonderland lilia #fem lilia #female lilia #vil schoenheit #vil x reader #vil shoenheit x reader #vil twisted wonderland

[dreamingofep]

Sinned Awakening pt. 3

An AU Elvis fic

(Vampire!Elvis/Vampire Austin!Elvis × reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Request: No

Prompt: Getting promoted to be Elvis’ full time housekeeper, you realize the man holds secrets beyond belief and your undeniable attraction makes you fear the unknown. [Fem!Reader]

TW: Cussing, tension, angst, SMUT, oral, the usual dirty stuff

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5.5K

A/N: Hello everyone!

Welcome to part 3! This part was a lot to write and I felt it to be a bit of a challenge to show the tension and magnetism between these two. I hope you enjoy all this and can't wait to show you what happens next. Please let me know what you think in the comments or send me a message!

Thank you again!

Sorry for any spelling mistakes and overall goofs. 🖤

Arriving to work the next day, you felt that familiar knot in your stomach form. Yet again, you didn’t know what would be in store for you. Would he fire you? Would you get another obscenely weird letter of praise? You had no idea but you had to show up and find out. 

Three o clock arrived and there was no phone call, just the buzzing sound of the lights above you. You tapped your leg nervously, wanting to see him but unsure what to say. He might not have seen you after all, maybe it was just you being paranoid and he wasn’t upset at all. 

Six o clock came and still no phone call. In fact, there wouldn’t be a phone call for an entire week. You were incredibly frustrated that he has you on call like this. You expected him to have more manners than this rather than keeping you waiting at his beck and call. But Tanya's voice rings in your head and it reminds you that he's "particular." Just another word for him acting like an asshole.

Looking at the clock, it was almost seven and your blood boiled. The least he could do was tell you he didn’t need you to clean today and you could go home and rest. But instead, you’re stuck here in this cold, poorly lit locker room in the basement of the International.

The shrill cry of the phone makes you make a frustrated groan. You quickly pick up the receiver and raise it to your ear and don’t say a word.

“Mr. Presley will-,” you hang up harshly and head to the elevator.

You had rehearsed the things you wanted to say to him, really give him a piece of your mind. How he can’t treat you like this and you’re not some servant to him. You work for The Hilton, not for him solely, and he needs to be reminded of that. 

You rush past the men in the hallway and don’t care about the judgmental stares they give you as you head to the suite’s double doors. You open the door abruptly and slam it behind you making the walls shake. Your eyes search for Elvis in the living room and don’t see him anywhere. Not only that, the room is in spotless condition as you left it last, leaving you bewildered that you got a call in the first place. You creep your way further into the room and you get that familiar chill down your spine. Your body freezes and your eyes dart to the dark figure coming out of the bedroom.

The shadow in the corner of the room makes it’s way into the light to reveal Elvis standing in a silk black shirt and black slacks, anger radiating off of him and hitting you in waves.

“Do not slam my door,” he bellows.

You scoff at him and cross your arms on your chest, “You can’t possibly think I’d be happy waiting for a week not hearing a word from you. Then you call me up here thinking I could get the normal cleaning done! A normal person would call at the beginning of the shift that they don’t need me so I can go about my day,” you snarl.

“So you can go do what? Go home to a fiancé that doesn’t care if you exist?” He snaps back. You stare wide-eyed in shock and disbelief at the pure hate that he spits at you

“What the hell is your problem?! I have been nothing but kind and gracious to you despite your god-awful raging mood swings,” you retort. His jaw clenches, slowly walking towards you. The closer he gets, the clearer you could see his eyes, engulfed with pent-up anger. They were a much darker blue than the icy blue you saw a few days ago and you can’t figure out if it was your imagination or the lighting, but the way he’s looking at you now is dangerous.

“You’re my problem, honey,” he scoffs, “You don’t listen. You were told up front, I am the only one who tells you if I need your services, and yet you come barging in here tonight like you own the place. I didn’t need you tonight, but you hung up on one of my men and couldn’t even listen to the complete instruction,” he scowls. His eyes burn into yours as he inches closer to you.

“And possibly even worse, you went into my bedroom the other night when I specifically told you not to under any circumstances,” He growls, pointing his finger at you, getting closer than he normally gets.

“Well, I wasn’t in your bedroom so I don’t see what the issue is,” you say defiantly, watching as the disbelief washes over his face. You straighten out your posture, showing him that you’re not going stand here and take his harsh words like a scared child.

“And if you were so concerned about me finding out what you do in your bedroom, you might need to gain the ability to actually close your door and turn your porn off until I leave the penthouse,” you sneer. He quickly rushes to you, taking your face in his hand, making you look up straight into his fiery eyes.

“You have no idea what I can do to you,” he seethes. Your breathing begins to become labored and his close proximity makes it feel suffocating. You peel his cold hands off your face and throw it down at his side. 

“I’m not afraid of what some recluse with money can do to me. It was only a matter of time before you would fire me,” you say fuming. 

“Mhmm…but you’re right, maybe I should fire you. Or, maybe I should make you work for me forever, keep you all to myself,” he says darkly. Your heart thumps in your ears and you look at him wide-eyed as the mood in the room drastically shifts.

“Y-y-you couldn’t pay me enough so don’t even try,” your voice waiver the closer he gets to you.

“Maybe you’re right… maybe there isn’t a number that could make you happy, you’re just going to be as miserable as me,” he scoffs. 

“No one can be as miserable as you, I can guarantee that,” you scowl. 

He takes another step forward and you retract back, needing to keep space between you two. He smirks when he sees your reaction to him, taking one more step closer. 

“I make you nervous, don’t I?” He quips slyly. 

A lump in your throat forms and you don’t realize you’ve retreated so far in the room and are at the piano now. You bump the keys of the piano with your backside and jump at the sound. “I don’t know what you mean,” you say nervously.

“I see it in your eyes, the way your body fights to get away from me, but you can’t. You want to be here. To be close to me,” he reveals.

“Elvis, I- I’m engaged you can’t try to win your way with me like any other woman,”

“I don’t think you care about that right now. I know a troubled and unhappy soul when I see one honey. I’m just trying to figure you out. What you… need,” he emphasizes. 

“Who says I’m not already happy?” You question. Another smirk forms on his face, making you weaker by the second.

“Based on how your cheeks are flushed and your eyes pleading for me to give you attention, I’d say you need something more. Something more from me.”

You bite your lower lip, knowing everything he is saying is the truth. The longer you stare and be in his presence, the more your body craved being around him. Not only that but this carnal desire to let him have his way with you ignited a fire inside you you didn’t know existed. You look down at the carpet, mapping out the way you’re going to try to get out of here. He places his hand on the bottom of your chin, making you look up into his eyes as they consume you whole.

“Do I make you nervous, yes or no,” he spat. 

You nod your head in his hand, unable to keep your breathing steady as his eyes bore into your searching for answers. He pushes his body into yours, his erection starting to form and pushing into your tummy. You let out a slow breath, trying to fight how good his body feels on yours. The battle is lost almost immediately as you find your hands wrapped around his torso, needing him even closer, scratching your nails down his back. 

“Are you happy?” He questions. 

“I’m not happy,” you whisper. He lets a slow exhale, his body melting into yours. 

“Then stop fighting me so much and let me give you what you need,” He groans into your ear, pushing his hips into you more. You hold back the moan you want to give him, unable to denounce that this is exactly what you wanted from him. 

“I was born to please honey. It's what I do best. I get on that stage, I please the audience with my voice every night. I always make sure those around me get what they need too. Whether that’s money, food, clothes, you name it. And that applies to you too,” he pauses and takes his hand off of you. You take a sharp inhale as you feel your core throb for the first time in his presence. “So, what do you need?’ He asks patiently, smirking down at you.

“I need you to show me what you do best,” you say slyly, succumbing to him. He grins and in a flash, his lips are on yours. His lips feel better than you could have ever dreamed of. They’re soft and pillowy, kissing you with a newfound urgency you had never had before. The way he groans when he kisses you more passionately has you rolling your eyes back; like he’s been dying to do this and has mapped it all out. 

His hands are around your hips, squeezing them tightly, making you push your body into him more. His hands roam your body freely, putting them everywhere, touching certain areas longer than others then moving on to touch somewhere else. He finds the curve of your ass and squeezes it firmly, making you break the kiss and look up at him gasping.

 The way his skin felt on your body was beyond a craving; it was a need. This was exactly what you needed. All this weird pent-up energy between you two was bound to make the dam break and the only cure was having him this way. With your bodies clutching for each other, moaning and gasping for more as your apparent arousals made your thoughts go hazy.  Your hand trails down to the front of his body, grazing down his til you hit his hard bulge. Your fingers trace the outline of his cock, getting to feel how long his length really is and you look up at him. 

He has the most devious grin on his face as you keep rubbing him over his pants. You let out a breathy sigh, realizing you can’t wait any longer. 

“Mmm, Elvis,” you say low. 

“I know honey,” he grumbles, his finger hooking onto the inside of your shirt as he pops off every button. Your skirt has the same treatment as you feel the zipper slide down and it slipping off your hips. His hand finds your hair and swiftly pulls the elastic that was holding your hair back, letting it fall in effortless waves.

Before you have any chance to react to what he’s doing to your clothes, he picks you up and sits you down firmly on top of the piano. Your head spins at the way he’s touching you, being more exposed just being in your bra and panties. It's all so much better than you anticipated and it feels like his hands are burning on your skin. He grunts inwardly and rubs his hands along the inner parts of your thighs, spreading them open. His thumbs play dangerously close to the sensitive flesh that reaches your core and you can’t help but spread your legs wider for him to touch those places. Elvis stands in between your legs and brushes your hair behind your ear. His fingers unclasp your bra and slide the straps off your shoulders. Cupping your breasts in his hands, he gives them the lightest touch, rubbing your nipples in slow circles with his thumbs making you fall apart instantly for him. 

He leans you back on the piano and lifts your legs up, letting them dangle on his shoulders. Your heart pounded away as Elvis inched closer to your dripping heat. You look at him in between your legs, looking absolutely ravenous. He glides his thumb up on your covered folds and instantly brought a shock to your entire body. Your panties were soaked through already, and he smiles when he makes this discovery. He keeps rubbing your sensitive bud, watching your face as it drowns in pleasure. 

The friction he’s giving you is exactly what you wanted and it feels like heaven. He knows the exact amount of pressure to put on it to make you want more from him. Your blazing heat and his cold fingers provide such an interesting sensation that you’ve never experienced and it drives you insane. 

Elvis can’t keep his eyes off of you, wanting to make you feel better than you ever have before. He hooks his fingers in the elastic waistband and you move your hips up to help him get them off of you. He hums softly,  amused at your eagerness. He lightly glides his hands over your entire body, leaving you with chills. He can’t help but smirk when he notices how your body reacts to him. How your nipples hardened by his cool touch and how your chest heaves waiting for him to give you more. 

He crouches down slightly, placing his two fingers on your lower lips, spreading them apart, showcasing the wet mess he has created and spilling out of you.

“Fuck this kitty looks so perfect,” he moans breathlessly, looking at you with need. He rubs his thumb on your sensitive bud, making you let out an obscenely loud moan, having not been touched like this by a man in ages. He knows just the right pressure to give you, enough to work you up. He stops and looks up at you, grinning like a little devil.

 “This is one of the things I do best honey,” he groans deeply before he leans down and you feel his tongue on you. He starts to lap his tongue into your folds, swirling it and putting the perfect amount of pressure on your clit. You gasp, so unaccustomed to all of this, it feels almost overwhelming.

“Oh shittt,” you groan the more he uses his tongue. He has a tight grip on your thighs, keeping you still as you try to squirm on top of the piano. He is also groaning the more he licks at your wetness, driving you to the edge by the sounds he’s making. You lift your head up to watch him with his eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed as he looks positively ravenous as he eats you, sucking and lapping all the wetness from you. His groans sound animalistic, like he’s been so deprived for your pussy and he finally gets what he’s wanted the most. 

Suddenly, you feel his tongue slip into your entrance and you both make the most salacious moan together. He eats you like he’s trying to get all the sweet cream from the bottom of the cone, not letting a drop get unlicked. 

He sucks on your clit before taking his lips off of you, “Goddamn baby, tasting so fucking good. I've never had someone taste so sweet. Just like honey,” he murmurs drunkenly and goes back to licking your weeping folds. One hand is on your thigh, holding your leg up in the air and the other is grasping onto the edge of the piano, hunched over in stature as he is so laser-focused on you. 

You hadn’t experienced this very often and it was definitely never like this. This was beyond pleasurable, it was euphoric with the way he made you want to get the very edge and come apart with his mouth on you.

Your hips start to rock involuntarily into his face, needing more from that mouth of his.

You feel his lips form into a mischievous smile as you continue to do this, guiding his tongue where you want it most.

“That’s right baby, I make you feel so good hmm,” he whispers. The sound of his voice makes your walls flutter and you can’t last much longer. Your breathing begins to shake, not used to so many sensations that he is giving you right now. He plunges his tongue deep inside you and you practically see stars behind your closed eyes. He keeps this same pace, moving his tongue in and out of you as you reach for his hair. You tangle your fingers in the soft black tresses and continue to rock into his face, feeling the warmth of your orgasm rush all over your body. You moan loudly as his tongue continues to fuck you and your squeezing walls. 

Your body tingles all over and feel more pleased than you have in ages. You never particularly liked oral because you had a harder time finishing, but tonight, that was the complete opposite problem. 

If that’s what he can do with his mouth… what can he do with the rest of his body…

He takes his mouth off of you, your slick covering his lips and chin, his eyes looking positively drunk on you. Standing up, his chest heaves when he looks at you, contemplating what he’s going to do next to you. His long index finger glides through your sensitive folds, making you hiss at the added pressure. 

His other hand traces your jaw and his thumb rubs along your lips, humming to himself as you lick the pad of it. He groans at your little insinuation and moves his hand down to your neck putting the most delicious amount of pressure there. 

Suddenly, you feel his finger enter your weeping core and you gasp and groan at the intrusion. Your walls hug his digit snugly and he too lets out a pent-up moan as he moves it in and out of you slowly. 

“Fucking hell honey, when was the last time a man fucked you right,” he coos. 

Your mind races and your body aches with desire, needing him to take care of every last want and need you crave. 

“I-I-I don’t remember,” you manage to mumble, feeling his long finger get deeper inside you. Your jaw drops as he continues to feel your slick walls, letting out a loud moan. 

He enters another long finger inside you and you cry out his name, so completely enamored with the feelings that are being brought into your body. Your walls flutter and you sit up on your elbows watching what he’s doing to you. He curls his fingers inside you, hitting a soft spongy spot you didn’t know existed before. He keeps curling and pushing there, making you moan louder for him. 

His mouth is back on your clit, suckling it eagerly. You can’t hold back anymore and feel your walls squeeze around his fingers. Your head falls back, begging for him to give you more. The rippling wave of pleasure hits you like a train and won’t stop as long as he has his mouth on your aching bud. You try to push his head away from your over-sensitive core but he doesn’t let you move it. Sitting there shaking with pleasure, he stills your legs and looks at you deviously. 

“I’m gonna show you how a man should fuck you, honey,” he growls, his eyes continuing to look dangerous and yet so attractive. He pulls his fingers out of you and picks you up off the piano, pulling you into the next room. 

His bedroom is dark, with black furnishings taking up most of the space and a large king-sized bed in the middle across from the tv stand. A picture of an angel in stained glass sits on his nightstand, backlit with a candle to shine on the depiction of the biblical figure. 

Elvis pulls back the sheets and places you in the middle of the bed. He doesn’t get on it with you right away, instead, he just stares hungrily at you, working the buttons of his shirt to reveal his body to you. Your eyes wander down to his pants and see his straining erection and he notices you staring. 

“Need something, sweetheart?” He teases. 

You nod your head at him, “Mhmm, I do” you beckon, trying to reach for his hand to pull him in. He doesn’t move though, and takes his hand away from you.

“Tell me what you need,” he prods. 

“I need your cock,” you pant. 

He slowly drags his pants off his hips, his erection slapping his lower stomach as it springs free. You lay there unable to function. Seeing it up close makes you feel an undeniable need to have him fill you with all of that. Your heart races out of your chest as he still doesn’t make a move yet. 

He wraps his hand around his length, slowly pulling back his foreskin to better showcase his red leaking tip. He looks down at you slyly, watching how you bite your lip and scoot closer to him on the edge of the bed. 

“Did you like it?,” he cocks his head at you waiting for your response.

You look at him puzzled, “Did I like what?” You ask unsure. 

“The other day, did you like watching me get off?” He says darkly.  You hold your breath, confirming your big fear that he did indeed see you watching him through the crack of the door. You know there’s no point in lying, he saw you and there’s no other excuse. 

“Yes,” you squeak out embarrassed. A sly grin washes over his face and his hand continues to rub his length. 

“Then say it,” he commands, his voice deep and gruff. Your stomach drops when you hear his tone and what he is expectantly waiting to hear from you. You don’t have to ask what he wants and you take a deep breath before speaking. 

“I liked watching you get off,” you say in a breathy moan. He bites the bottom of his lip and nods his head at you. 

“I know honey, I know you did. I liked how you watched me. Now it’s time to give you what you want,” he groans, getting on the bed in between your legs and spreading them open. The coolness of his hands pressing into your soft thighs makes you shiver with anticipation. He guides the tip of his cock in between your folds, covering it with your slick and you groan. 

He lines himself up to your entrance and pushes a few inches in swiftly. You gasp at the initial penetration, he feels so much bigger than you anticipated and you haven’t had sex in so long that your body needs a second to acclimate. Your hands reach for his arms and grab onto him tight and groan. 

He also lets out a loud moan as he moves in and out of you slowly, his eyes closed shut and his mouth dropped open in pleasure. 

“Fuuckkk honey. Squeezing me so damn tight. You feel perfect,” He groans through his teeth, pushing more of his cock inside of you. 

Your fingers dig into his flesh, leaving little red marks on his biceps. There’s a searing pleasurable pain that resides within you as you try to take him. He watches how you writhed on the bed, gasping for air as all of this is overwhelming. 

“Ahh, oh my god Elvis,” You moan as you toss your head to the side, squeezing your eyes shut. You hear him hum in delight as he watches every single reaction come out of you. How you inadvertently moan for more when he pulls his length out of you and how your face looks when he plunges the rest of it in you. 

“Oh my god,” you both moan out. 

“Elvis, holy shit…” you managed to get out as he starts to snap his hips faster into you. 

“What honey, you not used to get fucked like this hmm?” He teases. 

You shake your head fervently, looking down as his length goes in and out of you. 

“No, feels so good though,” you whimper. He pushes your legs up more and has both of his hands on your knees and he grinds his hips into you, watching you from above. God those hips were talented in more ways than one, the way he was barely moving them but was hitting the most perfect spot inside you had you dying. 

The coil in your belly tightens by the second and has you crying for release. Almost reading your thoughts, he stops and pulls out of you. You plead for him, wanting nothing more than for him to make you cum. His eyes are still very dark, lust taking them over as he watches you plead for more of him. 

“Elvisss please oh god,” you cry, pulling at his arms to get him on you again.

“You’re gonna have to tell me exactly what you want baby,” he commands. 

You let out a frustrated moan, looking into his eyes, “Keep fucking me, your cock feels so good,” you beg unashamedly. 

He grins at you and quickly puts your legs on his shoulders. He lines himself up again and plunges into you fast and fervently, making you see stars already. Elvis stretches his arm over you, holding onto the bed frame for leverage as he pounds into you. The moans and cries are coming out of you like water. He was right, you’ve never had a man fuck you like this and you enjoyed it more than you probably should. 

When it came to sex, Daniel didn’t think about your needs, he did the same thing every time if you two ever did have any.  This wasn’t the case at all with Elvis. He was on a mission for you you to feel the maximum amount of pleasure and cum first. 

He looks so powerful and addicted to you, as he keeps fucking you. Your hips move with him, matching his rhythm and feeling that familiar feeling in your core. His other hand is back on your neck, wrapping it firmly there making your eyes roll back. You groan loudly, not able to take much more at the pace he’s set. 

“Elvis I’m gonna cum oh god,” you cry. 

He groans with you and you feel his thumb trace the side of your neck, rubbing there back and forth cussing under his breath. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck honey,” he moans as he leans down and nips hard at the crook of your neck. 

You cry out for him, feeling beyond overwhelmed. The way his teeth felt on your neck was a feeling you could only describe as perilous. You didn’t want him to stop necessarily but it made you nervous with how intensely he was focused there. He keeps nipping that spot over and over then at it licking ravenously. You feel his body convulse on top of you, his breathing ragged as he nuzzles his nose next to your ear. 

“Cum for me, now,” he demands gruffly, his hips snapping into you like an animal. 

You obey without hesitation and feel your walls squeeze his length, making you both cuss. His face stays buried in the crook of your neck, not moving it as you ride out your orgasm. 

Your fingers scratch at his back, holding onto him for dear life as you try to regain your normal breathing. He quickly pulls out of you and keeps his head down, his chest heaving like you've never seen, and grabs his length in his hand, growling in frustration. 

“Turn around, now,” he grunts. Your brain scrambled to listen to him, his tone making you jump out of your skin. You quickly get on all fours and wait there for his next instructions. His hand grasps at your hip and you feel his hot seed land on your ass. His moans are gruff and you hear his breathing scattered, frantic almost. The sounds of his moans made you melt and you wanted to look at his face to see what he looked like coming. You bet he looked even more attractive somehow. But you decided to listen to him and let him finish the way he wanted to. You felt his seed drip down your ass and onto the backof your thighs, making you completely wet with both of your arousal.

His hands squeeze your hips and he turns you around again, laying on your back looking up at him. He looks delightfully fucked out of his mind and looks down upon you like prey. You both don’t say anything right away, trying to regain your normal breathing and not pass out from this beautiful man on top of you. 

“Did you like that?” He asks softly. 

“Y-yes. I really did. Didn’t know it could be that, intense,” you admit. He chuckles to himself, his blue eyes still dark with lust as he looks at you. 

“Good, that’s what I wanted to hear,” he says smugly as he leans down to kiss your forehead. 

He carefully gets off of you and goes to the bathroom to get a towel. He has you turn around for him again, he wipes your backside clean and he sits on the edge of the bed staring at you. You didn’t know what else to say or do, so many emotions were running through your head, and couldn’t make any sense of them. 

Why did your body like him this much? It was more intense than you could have possibly imagined. You wanted to believe it was because you had been so deprived of another human’s touch but it wasn’t convincing enough. You just cheated on your fiancé, it should be making you sick with what you just begged Elvis to do to you but instead, you’re already thinking if this could possibly happen again. 

No stop it. It’s not going to happen again. You promise. 

You need to break this deafening silence and look at him smirking. 

“I hope you don’t expect me to change the sheets next,” you say smartly. He shakes his head at you and laughs. Another thing that is beautiful about him; his laugh. That contagious sound makes you smile without you even trying.

“No honey I won’t make you do that. We might just make another mess in them,” He says deviously. 

“Elvis, I umm, I really enjoyed all of that but this can’t happen again,” you say weakly. 

“Mhmm, whatever you want honey. If you change your mind, you know where I’ll be,” he discloses, getting up and heading for the bathroom. “Leave whenever you want, I have to get ready for my show,” He says gently. 

You look at the clock and it’s already eight, his show starts in half an hour. Looks like he might be going on a little late. 

You go back into the living room area where you see your discarded uniform. You slip your skirt back on and button up your shirt. And throw your ruined panties and bra in your cart and make your way out. You couldn’t make eye contact with the men there in the hall, almost guaranteeing that they heard everything that was going on in there. The elevator doors open and you get in and take the long ride down to the basement. 

Your head felt like it was in a cloud, blurry with so many thoughts and feelings you couldn’t escape. Grabbing your panties out from your cart, you make your way to your locker to grab your purse and go home. You keep a small mirror on the locker’s door and you take a look at your reflection. Your hair looked like it went through a tornado and your mascara was smudged underneath your eyes. 

Nice you look completely normal.

Then your eyes stare in disbelief at what you see next. On the side of your neck, a large purple bruise has surfaced, pulsating and burning. You delicately touch it with your fingers and wince, feeling your pulse underneath it throb. He was nipping there harder than you thought based on how big and purple the bruise is, he did some damage. 

Tilting your head further and inspecting for any more signs of how you committed adultery, you see your carotid artery running down your neck and through the bruise Elvis left behind. 

You take deep breaths and try to find a bandage that will cover this up properly. You have no idea what excuse you are going to try to give when people ask what happened but you’ll figure it out later. Right now, you need to cover it up and get out of here. 

Rushing over to the first aid kit, you find a band-aid that covers the bruise and you carefully placed it on. Closing your locker and grabbing your purse, you run to your car and lock the door, catching your breath and calming yourself down before you drive home. 

This can’t happen again. 

There’s already too much evidence he left behind. 

You can’t have him. 

He’s too tempting. 

Do your job and get out. 

But something in you knew it wasn’t going to be that simple. 

Tagging 🖤:

@powerofelvis @burninlovebutler @neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @elvispresleyxoxo @loving-elvis

@prompted-wordsmith @sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @rosepresley @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog @myradiaz @lookingforrainbows @elvispresleygf @tacozebra051 @thatbanditqueen

@18lkpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873 @austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis @everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything @ohjustpeachy @elvisalltheway101 @austinsmutler @kingdomforapony @generoustreemystic @kendralavon7 @lettersfromvenus @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121 @jacqueline19997 @returntopresley @iloveelvis @rjmartin11 @that-hotdog @louisejoy86

#elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley x reader #elvis presely smut #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis x oc #elvis x you #elvis x y/n #elvis x reader #austin elvis smut #austin elvis imagine #austin butler elvis #vampire elvis fic #vampire elvis #70s elvis #sinned awakening #elvis fanfic #samfangirls

[taeyegu]

introduce me a good person — 003. oh shit

previous // next

word count — 876

warning(s) — mentions of food/drinks/eating, intoxicated characters, cheating/infidelity 

the homemade dinner at the doctors' shared apartment went well with no fire alarm going off that night.

"i still can't believe y/n and wonwoo went to go get food without us." soonyoung pouted for the umpth time. wonwoo sighed as he finished up washing the dishes,

"y/n got hungry before so we decided to get something small to eat." he responded plainly. y/n walked over from the sink to sit next to soonyoung at the dining table,

"i'm sorry soonyoung!" y/n exclaimed, "i thought i was going to eat with sejun today so i skipped breakfast and lunch... by the time sejun cancelled on me, i was starving. wonwoo said i should eat something before we got the groceries for tonight." a small pout formed on her lips and soonyoung (nor anyone) could stay mad.

"that's no way to treat one's girlfriend..." jihoon mumbled under his breath over by the couch as he was doing some extra research on the surgery he was to perform the following week.

"guys, i know you all care about me but sejun is a genuinely great guy!" y/n smiled. wonwoo finished up the dishes and sat down in front of y/n and soonyoung at the dining table. he noticed the smile didn't reach her eyes like they usually do. "sejun has been with me through everything and i already told jihoon this but, i think he's gonna propose soon!"

"with what ring? the guy barely has any money..." junhui grumbled while also helping jihoon prep for his surgery.

y/n laughed, "you all know i'm not big on that stuff, it doesn't have to be a flashy ring! i don't need it!" she smiled, but her voice didn't sound as happy as she was trying so hard to portray to her friends.

"you might say that you don't need it but that doesn't mean you don't deserve a big flashy ring!" soonyoung exclaimed, "you're a catch y/n! and if a guy doesn't prove his worth to you, you deserve so much better!"

wonwoo sat quietly and listened as his friends talked on and on about y/n's relationship with sejun. it was almost a routine for the friend group: someone always bringing up how shitty of a boyfriend sejun was and y/n trying her best to defend him. however wonwoo knew that y/n was smart enough to make her own decisions, he knew even she was starting to get tired of sejun's constant excuses.

wonwoo's train of thought was interrupted by a text from his friend dr. kim mingyu of pediatrics.

"i have to go pick up mingyu." wonwoo stated as he got up from the table. he grabbed his keys and began to put on his coat.

"why, what happened to him?" junhui asked.

"he's intoxicated right now and at the sector 17 club a few blocks down--he needs a ride home." wonwoo responded as he slipped on his shoes.

"that no good guy..." soonyoung mumbled, "doesn't he have a shift tomorrow and he's out here getting wasted? what about the kids?!"

y/n laughed, "i don't know why you have beef with dr. kim all of a sudden soonyoung, i thought you guys were always friends?"

"well, we're like frenemies! i've noticed he's been talking a lot with the interns this year--trying to hype up pediatrics. but neurosurgery is where it's at!" soonyoung ranted, "he's even got chan considering pediatrics when he promised me he would join neuro!"

wonwoo didn't listen to the rest of soonyung's rambling as he closed the door to their shared apartment and started up his car to pick up dr. kim from his night out at the club. -- by the time wonwoo had found parking near his destination, he had already called his friend at least three times, "the guy probably can't hear anything with this music blasting..." wonwoo grumbled as he felt his car slightly shake due to the bass from the club.

he decided to get out of his car to try and look for the intoxicated doctor but noticed another familiar face emerging from the club entrance...

it was sejun with his arms wrapped around another girl.

"yo! wonwoo my man! glad you--" mingyu's loud voice slurred and wonwoo quickly quieted down the intoxicated giant.

"shut up! something might be wrong!" wonwoo whispered. mingyu quickly sobered up and followed wonwoo's line of sight to which he also noticed a familiar figure.

"isn't that y/n's boyfriend? are they also here at the club?" mingyu giggled.

"no, y/n was at home today with us." wonwoo whispered, his eyes never leaving the two as they stumbled around on the sidewalk waiting for their ride, "y/n and sejun were supposed to have dinner tonight but she said that he cancelled on her because he was still tired from his flight but--"

"oh so that scumbag is cheating on her!" mingyu whisper-yelled angrily.

"n-no, not cheating per se... they could just be friends--"

however just as wonwoo was finishing his sentence, the two men watched as sejun kissed the unknown woman deeply on the lips before the two left in their uber.

"i don't think friends kiss like that wonwoo..."

oh shit.

#🩺 imgp #seventeen #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen smau #seventeen social media au #seventeen x reader #seventeen x y/n #svt #svt fanfiction #svt fanfic #svt imagines #svt scenarios #svt smau #svt social media au #svt x reader #svt x y/n #wonwoo fanfiction #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo smau #wonwoo social media au #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x y/n #wonwoo angst #wonwoo fluff

[ladymelisande]

Wait.

I just realised that the way that Ten treated Martha was pretty much exactly the same way Eight acted with Charley Pollard after he screamed his feelings at her in Scherzo and I don't know how to live with this information.

For people in the tag that don't know, Charlotte/Charley Pollard was the Eighth Doctor's first companion in Big Finish and officially the first human companion that had distintic romantic arc with the Doctor. Russel T. Davies said to her actress that Rose wouldn't have existed if Charley hadn't set the mark. In one hand, I don't think Charley and Rose are similar except for superficial stuff (both blond and nineteen when they start travelling with the Doctor) mainly because I think the former was a way better written character. Charley was more of a proto-Clara in terms of storyline (already dead companion) and sort of like Martha when it came to her dynamic with the Doctor.

But I'm not getting to the point, okay, what I am trying to say is that Ten totally had feelings for Martha and he was pissed about it because he acted with Charley the same way, even after loudly telling her he loved her. It's partly because after the episode when that happened the writers that weren't Robert Shearman chickened out about the romance, but sadly it also set a precedent about how the Doctor would act later in those situations.

Like with Martha, the Doctor acted flirty but pretended he was totally not into her.

Like with Martha, the Doctor acted as if Charley's feelings were the crux problem in their dynamic and that she just needed to stop them... But it was kind of worse because he said asif he didn't tell her he loved her and even admitted it to himself (Scherzo: “Of course, I loved you! I killed myself for you, didn't I? Of course, I loved you! Of course... I love you.” “I love Charley. I am not sure of what that means, I don't know if it is weakness or strength or insanity, but I love her.”)

Like with Martha, it was Charley who eventually decided to leave him (though she regretted it but it was too late and they got separated so Eight had the impression she left him because amnesia stuff).

Like with Martha, the Doctor wanted to keep their dynamic as just travelling companions despite the obvious changes on it. He wanted to keep Charley close but he didn't want to admit there was something more... Sound familiar to the man that admitted that he “made it complicated”?

I don't know if it was intentional on RTD's part, it probably wasn't because his comment to India Fisher seemed to imply he thought Rose was the Charley-inspired character. Except that just showed that he only saw the superficial side of Charley and Eight's relationship because Charley wasn't hailed as some true love of Eight, nor she was compared or used to bring down other companions (indeed the companion after her was strictly platonic, a lot like Donna). Charley and Eight's relationship was very complicated in the same way Ten and Martha was. It wasn't just the girl being in love with the Doctor and the Doctor not being interested. It was the Doctor very much loving that girl back and being extremely cross about it. And all of that is quite reflected in the way that Ten acted with Martha. The flirting, the looks, the way that despite saying he wasn't interested he was literally unable of letting her go.

What I'm trying to say is, Martha's love wasn't unrequited or at least not as RTD wanted it to look because he had his head too far up his first companion's arse. At the end of the day, the relationship reflected in the same way than one of the most complex relationships the Doctor had with another companion.

It was requited and Ten was cross about it.

#tenmartha #tenth doctor #martha jones #eight x charley #eighth doctor #charley pollard #doctor who #not me not talking about DW in two years but coming back with a Tenmartha manifesto of all things lol

[biscuitsngravie]

Daylight by Moonlight

Vampire!Nanami x Reader

cw/tw/tags: vampire!nanami, fem!reader, hematophogy (blood drinking), not editied cause im tired

wc: 2295

an: idk what to tag it regarding characters and stuff. should i just put in all the ppl who'll be included eventually or just tag them as they appear? also this is 100% gonna have smut later cause like, vampires are hot. do i tag it smut now or later? help! 😭

Chapter One

He opens his eyes suddenly, a sheen of sweat cooling his exposed skin with his heart pounding in his chest. He doesn’t need to check the time to know that he’s up before his alarm, the buzzing in the street confirming that much. His bangs lightly poke him in the eyes, fitting around the eyelashes that futilely try to fight against them. With one, heavy sigh he brushes them back, willing his heart to slow down. He eventually sits up and cradles his face in his hands, bringing his knees to his chest to breathe. 

Breathe…

Breathe…

Breathe……….

“He’s still breathing!”

“His heart rate’s coming back up! Hey, can you hear me?”

“It’s getting too high, he’s gonna go into shock!”

“Hey buddy, can you hear me? We’re gonna take care of ya, just hang in there!”

His alarm snaps him back into reality, sending a jolt down his spine. The surprise sets his heart aflame again, but this time it’s almost welcomed. Alarms nowadays are a lot more varied, from sing-songy (much like Gojo’s) to industrial ones that are a tad nostalgic. Kento’s personally decided to go for one that imitates birds chirping, a sound he occasionally misses from the mornings that now rings as his lullaby. 

He stretches his legs back out and leans over to check the time for sunset. Upon realizing it’s about an hour or so he softly groans to do a full body stretch before rising from the bed. He’s not too keen on doing laundry yet again this week, gathering the sheets to toss into his hamper before stepping into the shower. The water is hot, so hot it just barely burns his skin, but the sting is welcomed. It makes him feel alive. 

Small drops cascade over his body, racing each other down the drain. He softly chuckles to himself as he places imaginary bets on ones that glide down his thighs. He eventually dips his head under the stream, hissing slightly at the sting and turning the temperature down just a little to make it more bearable. His shampoo bottle pathetically squirts out just enough for his hair for one wash, and he curses himself for hanging out with Gojo the day (to him at least) prior rather than doing the grocery run he planned. 

The sound of the water hitting his skin and the tile fills his ears, drowning him in familiar memories once again. 

“I’m so sorry, young man! Are you hurt?”

“You don’t think he’s one of them, do ya?”

“He ain’t got no fangs—”

“Some of’em are sneaky like that! Open yer mouth, boy!”

*ding*

*ding*

*ding*

A fourth ding on his phone can almost undoubtedly confirm that it’s none other than the troublemaker himself reaching out. Nanami moves on with his shower and steps out with his towel around his waist. He forces his bangs to lay away from his face to squint at his phone. 

Gojo Satoru: <<Nanamiiii!>>

Gojo Satoru: <<Good morningggg (⁠~⁠￣⁠³⁠￣⁠)⁠~>>

Gojo Satoru: <<I can’t stop by tonight but Choso should be there soon!>>

Gojo Satoru: <<Suguru’s letting me spend the day at his place!!! 😋>>

Nanami huffs incredulously. Well that’s sure a surprise. Though a part of him weeps for Gojo’s poor lover. He sends a text of warning back. 

<<Don’t try to bite him.>>

A text comes back almost immediately. Nanami can almost hear the saccharinely sweet feigned innocence dripping from the words on screen. 

Gojo Satoru: <<Oh whatever do you mean~>>

Nanami doesn’t even have the energy to kiss his teeth the way he wants before moving on, deciding that the message isn’t worthy of a response. He stands in front of the mirror to brush his teeth, bringing out his fangs and being sure to brush around them, only retracting them once he has to shrug his tongue. Once done with a quick and simple face wash and moisturizer he blowdries his hair from soaking to damp, leaving it wet enough to mold later. After doing a pat down with his towel, moisturizing the rest of his body, and getting dressed, he returns to his vanity to finish his hair off, using a gentle pomade and steady fingers. 

Though he’s done it more times than he could possibly count, he can’t relax until it’s molded into the perfect shape. As he does so, he notices his eyes slowly taking on a red tint under the caramel. The doorbell ringing almost cues the growling of his stomach and the aching beginning to creep in his bones. He settles for “good enough” and begins to head downstairs, dressed in everything but his shoes. 

There stands Choso, a pale but stocky man. Over a lot of time and quite a few half conversations, he’s learned that only one of his parents was a vampire, that parent quickly fucking off and living life who knows where not long after Choso’s conception. Choso inherited a jumble of traits that might as well have been taken out of a mystery bag with one’s eyes closed. He has that stark, pale skin, yet no fangs. He can survive on little blood, human blood stretching much farther for him than most. Though he can walk in the sun, he still has a sun sensitivity that generally keeps him safely tucked away, especially during the summer. Even without that state, he prefers the community of fellow vampires over humans either way. The bags under his eyes are completely separate, as he’s an incurable night owl with an early shift. He also has a brother. He also had more. 

“Please come in,” Nanami says uselessly, this becoming a routine for over a decade now. Choso still politely waits for the invitation, however, a mutual commitment to the bit. Nanami’s body is already buzzing with anticipation, every one of his muscles flexing at the sight of the wagon Choso totes behind him. A familiar smell wafts up to his nose, making him grunt.

Choso lets out a half-laugh. “Gojo-san felt generous.”

Nanami notices the way he’s tensing and wills himself to calm down. “H-how many extra?” he chokes out, his fangs already baring without his will. 

“Five.”

“Christ—”

“That’s what I said. Worst fucking haul of my life. Took everything in me not to tear into it, and I don’t even drink much.” Choso makes his way through the entrance hall past the first living area, heading to the industrial kitchen on the right. Once inside, he goes straight for the walk-in cooler and begins opening the top of the wagon. He hands one to the Nanami, deciding not to comment on the veins now poking against his temple and the eyes that have fully turned now. He faces the cooler shelves and reorganizes the leftover bags from the week before, moving the labels to keep the dates in order. “Alright, let’s see…”

Nanami greedily takes the bag in his hands, hastily tearing the corner off the packaging made for easy feeding. His body warms immediately, tingling and buzzing as the blood flows through him. It smells sickeningly sweet as it rushes throughout his system, but what else could he expect from Gojo Satoru. With the way he feels, he won’t have to feed for another month or so, and it wouldn’t be the first time. Gojo’s blood is divine and anyone who’s anyone knows that. 

Gojo Satoru: The sole remaining descendant of the Original Vampire. And to think he was only half. He contains every trait that any one person (or not) could dream of: his senses enhanced tenfold beyond the strongest vampire anyone could name. His regeneration and strength ridiculously above what should be vampirily possible. His stamina, his speed, his everything. With immunity to the sun and gifted in looks as well, he’s just as much the most annoying being on the planet. 

But his blood is heavenly. If Gojo were a con artist he could sell it by the two ounce bottle and ensure that anyone who had a taste could maybe be like him someday! Hell, with the way it feels right now, even Nanami would entertain the thought, even if no more than a brief lapse in judgement. Once his eyes hazily focus again after rolling to the back of his skull, he tries to strike up conversation as Choso does his work. 

“Sorry for not doing that, I thought Gojo-san was coming.”

“S’fine, I don’t mind it really. I like this kinda work anyway.” he sighs softly, clasping his hands momentarily as he surveys the bags he has before him. “I wanted to try something, tell me if you like. If not I’ll just go back to the normal stuff.” Choso grabs one bag with an extra label on it right under the date. “This one, aaand, where is it? Oh, these ones over here? I tried curing them. This one is withhh…” he squints at the bag to read the description, “Oh! So this is a Mediterranean vegetable medley. This one over here I put with chorizo, I dunno what I was thinking, but it was kind of a double-process.”

Nanami hums in interest, his eyebrows raising in curiosity. 

“And this one, I was actually supposed to deliver a while ago, but forgot. I decided to put some, uh, some yeast and sugar and cinnamon and stuff in it. Kind of like…” he snaps his fingers a few times and scrunches his nose as he tries to search the air for the word that escapes him. 

“Apple cider?” Nanami offers. 

“That!” he points back, “exactly that! I know you don’t mind the normal stuff, but you’re a chef, you know?”

“Owning a restaurant doesn’t make you a chef, it—”

“It makes you something. Besides, you basically cook for yourself all the time. It’s nice to let vampires do things for you sometimes.”

Nanami sighs to dispel the smile that threatens to tug at his lips. Even if he wasn't told, he and Itadori are brothers without a doubt. “I’ll try them. If I don’t see you next time I’ll be sure to text you my thoughts.”

“My first food review,” Choso chuckles at the joke made almost to himself. His ears perk up when he hears Nanami clear his throat.

“Would like one of Gojo-san’s?”

His eyes widen at the offer. “Oh no! No it’s no worries, he said he owes me for the last minute call so trust me, I have a lot to look forward to.” Choso sighs airily with a smile. “That human’s got him wrapped around his finger, I see.”

“He’s letting him spend the day over for the first time,” Nanami comments, letting Choso pull the wagon out of the walk-in.

“Oh? Suguru’s lucky he’s male or Gojo-san would keep him barefoot and pregnant.”

“Technology is advancing fast nowadays, if he ever turns that’s when he’d really be in trouble,” Nanami half mumbles to himself, pulling a laugh from Choso as they walk to the door. 

“That reminds me, do you know if Yuuji works today?” he asks, turning around after leading the wagon out the door. 

“Any particular reason why?”

“He’s been dodging my calls and I need to talk to him.”

Nanami’s not one to distribute information on his employees, regardless of familial relation. Unless it’s an emergency, everything is under lock and key, or in these times, safes. Though the information proves quite interesting considering that Itadori’s been especially active on his phone as of late. So much so that Nanami actually has a talk scheduled with him once he comes in. 

“It’s not nothing bad or anything, it’s just…” Choso exhales tiredly, scruffing up the back of one of his ponytails. “He’s got this boy toy recently—”

“And he’s human,” Nanami interrupts without really meaning to, letting his thoughts flow right from his lips. Choso nods in confirmation. Nanami mirrors him and says, “He works eleven to seven thirty.”

“Thank you,” comes out almost in a whisper, as if Itatdori himself were standing right there. With a sharp nod and an exchange of departing messages, Nanami closes the door and continues the pack from Gojo. Once he’s done he makes a small breakfast for himself. Though he doesn’t need to, making food and cooking it is fun. He likes the smells, the textures, the flavors. Anyone would say that as much as it is a necessity for some, the act of eating is plain old fun. No wonder his grandad opened all of these restaurants, besides the other reason. 

It’s only eight, so the grocery stores should still be open by the time he’s done with the cooking and cleanup. Cleanup being “put everything into the dishwasher and turn on heated dry.” Once he’s done with that, he heads to a nearby store and buys his coveted shampoo, sighing with relief as he picks up the last bottle. He decides not to go back home to drop it off, rather enjoying the warmth of the night. He walks down the sidewalk, already bustling with night owls and those who try to steal some time to themselves after their jobs before inevitably dragging themselves back home to sleep and do it again. 

He admires the way the trees decorating the sidewalks have their first signs of buds, soft and delicate to the touch. Sometimes he feels they’re so fragile they may disintegrate right before him. Spring is coming. Spring means summer. And summer means shorter days. He sighs to himself, looking to the stars, awaiting the “Quiet Hour,” when the city turns off its lights to let everyone enjoy their light. To bask in the suns that are too far away to hurt them.

When the clock reaches half past nine, he begins his walk towards work. 

[bucknastysbabe]

Hello! I saw your work when you wrote about three men from the house of the dragon (Jace, Aegon and Aemond) at once and I fucking loved it! I don't know if you can write something like this again? Maybe, somewhere during some kind of ball, some lord sticks to the reader in the corridor (very cruelly sticks, perhaps so that pieces of her paty remain (remember Sansa from the first season)) some lord, and she tries to fight back, but too much shocked and these men come to the rescue, God I hope you understand me thanks for your creativity!

My prince in shining silks?

Rating: Teen

Tags: Aegon II x Reader, Aemond x Reader, Jace x Reader, AFAB!Costayne reader, chivalry, sweetness really, fluffy, Aemond is emotionally constipated, Jace is a baby, Aegon and Sunfyre are BFFS, I get a little character studyish, TW: attempted rape, nondescript castration, Aegon’s past misdeeds

A/N: OF COURSE I LOVE STUFF LIKE THIS ENJOY XOXOXXO

Some say that the North remembers. But you’d like to say that the Hightower’s never, ever forgot a slight. They were too proud, too old of a family. Elevated to the highest position as they became the puppeteer for the Dragon. It was a grand tourney and feast in the Reach for young Prince Daeron’s 13th name day, a man grown now.

You were of House Costayne. Bannermen of the Hightowers, but had not so hidden preferences for Rhaenyra as rightful ruler for the future of the kingdom. Also the fact that your ancestor Elinor Costayne was a black bride of Maegor. Who was supposed to stay true to his Hightower bride. Therefore there wasn’t the best of blood between your families.

But your family was here. Quite spread thin if you could say. All filtered far away from the center of the jamboree. One of the dragons roared from far off. It sounded like Prince Daeron’s she-dragon Tessarion. Daeron was a kind soul and handsome. Too young for you by some years. You’d overheard Lord Hobart reprimand the lad after chatting to you, “You know what color her family’s flag flies.”

That was that. He didn’t speak to you much anymore, but would smile. You were a lady in waiting for Samantha Tarly, soon to be Hightower. It made things much worse for you and your position at the feast. Down with lesser nobility and the knights. Suddenly you felt very alone and afraid, picking at your meat nauseously.

A breath reeking of wine entered your ear, “Why’ve they got pretty little Costayne down here? You bed the princeling, incur the wrath of Lord Otto?” You turned to face the man, shock etched into your features, stuttering, “N-no my lord it must’ve b-been a mistake!” It was the huge second son of Lord Bulwer, Uther. He looked bullish like the sigil they bore.

He crowded into your space, grinning, huge hand gripping your shoulder. Bulwer grunted, “No one’s going to see when their pretty lady is gone, not down here. Maybe Prince Daeron will come to the rescue.” You remained quiet, eyes searching for a familiar face but found none. Tears leaked from your eyes as Uther led you farther away from the din of safety.

Aegon

Aegon hated these events. He lounged back and sloppily poured more mead down his throat. Alicent slapped his arm as to say, have some decorum you halfwit! The prince scoffed and got up, he needed to take a piss anyways. He sauntered through the woods, relieved himself, and decided to stagger over to his baby Sunfyre.

The golden beast huffed at Aegon, nuzzling his palm. The blonde softly chatted in Valyrian. He loved Sunfyre, so much, probably the only friend that unconditionally loved him. Both of their heads turned at the sound of a woman’s plea for help, cut off by the sound of a smack. Sunfyre growled lowly, turning to look at his owner as if to say, “Are we going to do something about that? What if it’s Hel?”

Aegon really couldn’t be bothered but he heard another shriek and Sunfyre had already dipped for Aegon to mount his beast. The elder prince eyed the dark forest, his golden dragon snorting and twitching it’s head to-and-fro. Aegon demanded, “Keligon,” he pat golden scales, “Ilagon.” Sunfyre let him hop off and come forward to the scene.

Some Reach lord, thick as a aurochs and hairy like one too had a girl shoved into the dirt, down in a rut, hands tearing at her garb. Aegon could see the tears in her eyes under the moonlight. Guilt constricted his chest. Is this what he thought was fun? The Targaryen needed to set himself right, help the girl.

“In the name of the Seven Kingdoms, your Prince commands you to cease at once!,” Aegon called down from his higher position. His dragon hung back, snorting and waiting. She cried, “Please! Prince Aegon! My virtue! I need Lady Tarly!” The lord snarled, “Your family stuck her at the end of the table for a reason, just having a little fun, get back to your silken chair.”

Just having a bit’ of fun.

Aegon was furious now, self-hatred fueling his desire to make this man burn. He barked, “I’ll ask one more time, get off the Lady and go back to your shitty house and their shitty wooden chairs.”

The aurochs scoffed and ripped the girls bodice with a grin. He really was stupid, drunk, or possibly both. She tried to cover her exposed teats, sobbing for Lady Tarly, her father, she was of Costayne. Costayne was a reputable house. This would be bad to ignore a bannermen’s virgin girl. Even if they were a bit astray. Maybe this could get them back.

Aegon looked over his shoulder to meet gleaming reptilian eyes. He pointed at the man and hissed, “Sunfyre, Dohaeris!” He mounted the dragon again, who let our a fierce screech. The ugly lordling hopped back and cried out in shock. The lady of Costayne covered herself and scurried backwards, getting even more dirty. The Prince directed his purple eyes to the man, “If I hear of you assaulting ladies of nobility again, all I have to do is say one word and you’ll be a nice roast.”

He dismounted again, thanking his dearest friend. The girl sat crumpled, heaving sobs, eyes swollen. Aegon offered her his cloak with a frown, asking, “Who was that?” Her wide eyes met his, beautiful in their sadness. Aegon liked sad things more than all of the revelry. She mumbled, “Uther Bulwer. I was supposed to be seated with Lady Tarly or my family. Thank you my Prince. I cannot repay you enough.”

Aegon hummed, “That’s horrid, I apologize on behalf of the dumb fuck who did that. C’mon, show me to your tent and I’ll get Tarly.” He gathered her up in his arms, her legs shaking too bad to take a step. Aegon looked at her crumpled face and asked gently, “Would you mind getting on my mount, he’s a good boy. Listens well.”

Her eyes grew wide at Sunfyre, but the dragon dipped its head and let out a soft purr as to show it’s good behavior. Aegon couldn’t help but smile at his mount. She stammered, “O-okay.”

She remained silent as Sunfyre ungainly took them to the Costayne and Tarly tents. He helped her down and carried the girl inside, who had calmed significantly. She even pat Sunfyre and whimpered, “T-thank you.” She received a pleased chuff in response.

When they entered the Costayne tent Aegon was assaulted by members of the family and a frantic Samantha Tarly. She cried and gathered the girl up, demanding, “Where was she? Where was my girl?” Lord Costayne came to Aegon and looked down, offering a hand to shake. Aegon explained, “I was uh- relieving myself and heard her. Uther Bulwark was attempting to take her virtue. His violets flicked over to the young lady being coddled by others, looking heavenly in his emerald cloak.

Costayne frowned deeply and hummed, “Raper. He should be sent to the wall. I would also request why the girl was seated at the end.”

Aegon dutifully nodded and replied, “I will return to my family and resolve the matter. May I speak to the girl?”

Narrowed eyes. Aegon still had a shite reputation.

“You may.”

Lady Sam looked up and allowed for Aegon to kneel at her side. He thumbed the ermine cloak and said, “Green is a nice color on you. Please be safe and mayhaps write a raven or send a message through Daeron. Good night to you.” She tearily smiled, “Thank you my prince, you are too kind.” The Costayne kissed his cheek with soft lips and that was it. He felt her eyes follow his retreating form.

Aegon decided he would marry the girl on his aggressive stomp back to the family tent. After he got Bulwer sent to freeze his cock off and chide his mother for being callous over the poor, beautiful, sad thing’s last name.

Jacaerys

Ser Harwin used to joke that Jace had his head constantly on a swivel. Which was a good trait, his father said. Jace knew the truth, who didn’t. Regardless, he was eyeing the feast. His Velaryon cousins were squabbling, the Targaryens looked pessimistic per usual. He took his time glaring down Daemon, who paid him no mind, whispering to mother. Daeron and Luke chatted amicably.

Baratheon, Lannister, Arryn, no Stark, Tyrell, even Martell had made their appearances. The rest of the Hightowers and their bannermen were at a table. Jace studied all the sigils of the Houses of the Kingdoms. He saw their green. Then the other colors of Tarly, Costayne, and Ball. Lord Costayne apparently had a very comely daughter, Lady Sam Tarly’s little lady in waiting. He didn’t spot her. Daeron had spoke of her beauty earlier but said he wasn’t allowed to interact per the old cunt Hobart.

He eyed to the outer tables of hedge knights, lesser houses, and high bastards. He saw the black and white of the Three Towers in a handsome dress. She was being shook and grabbed at by what seemed a Bulwer man. The man was twice his size but Jace would not stand for a raper or deviant like his cousin. He got up from his table, mother raising a questioning brow.

Jace silently stalked round to where the Bulwer was leading the muffled Costayne off. He darted behind them, using the cover of the night. Leaping forward he held a knife to the man’s thick neck, right on the pumping jugular. Jacaerys rumbled, “You’ll be castrated and sent to the wall for defiling a lady of her standing you fool.”

The man stiffened and Jace could smell piss as he nicked the skin of his neck with sharp Valyrian steel. He stammered, “She asked for it s-sir. Swear on it.” Jacaerys coolly replied, “Remove that paw of yours and let’s hear Lady Costayne then.” She turned to peer over Bulwer’s wide shoulder, weeping, “Please help Prince Jacaerys, I wish to be with my family!”

Bulwer let go of her and dashed off into the woods with a curse. She bowed and thanked him profusely, tears staining perfect cheeks. Jace frowned, “I apologize if the fool got piss on your beautiful dress m’lady. How in the Seven Hells did you end up at the edge of the feast?”

She bit her lip to stay quiet, eventually whispering, “My family supports your mother. The Queen did not like that. And no, somehow the piss missed my dress, thank you.”

Jacaerys gruffed, “Good choice on your family, even in the nest of Greens. Let me escort you back to their table, yes?” She grabbed his hands and kissed them gently, demurring, “Yes my prince, thank you.” Jace kept his hand at the small of her back as he led her to the Tarly-Costayne table. They received her joyfully, cheering the prince on. Lord Costayne gave a solemn nod and smile. The girl turned with flushed cheeks, “A dance later perhaps?”

Jacaerys smiled, “I’ll be waiting.”

Rhaenyra questioned him, “What were you doing over there? Right in the Tower. Or one of them.” Jace puffed his chest out, “I saved Lady Costayne’s virtue from some brutish Bulwer second son.” Daemon patted his back and commended, “Good man. That will be a boon for their support. Lady Tarly thinks her as a daughter.”

When Jace spun the beauty around later, he dreamt of her in a gorgeous Targaryen maiden’s cloak. They shared a kiss in the crowd later, her asking him to visit on Vermax some time. Jace eagerly acquiesced, promising to find the time. Something no one was sure how much was left.

Aemond

Aemond growled to himself, “Fuck tourneys, fuck parties, fuck feasts, and especially fuck my brother.” He swung at a tourney dummy outside of the revelry. They wouldn’t come looking, maybe send Criston if something was really needed. There was no time for shite like this, the man needed to train for the war.

He wanted blood. Especially Strong blood.

The Targaryen’s second son sharply swung down at the dummy, grunting with effort. He thought of drunkard Aegon probably taking some serving wench’s cunt and swung again. Why did the gods resort him to this status? The spare. They must have a purpose for him somewhere.

He heard shuffling and a grunt from his left. A girl’s muffled squeal. Aemond’s hearing was better on his blind side. See Criston had assisted him into honing that into an advantage. He stopped his swinging and paused.

“Stop! My virtue! They will know!,” came a small voice.

Clothes were ripped. A gruff voice slurred, “Like they care, Green’s just waiting for a reason to make you a silent sister. Shut up whore!” Another muffled yelp echoed into the quiet tourney grounds.

Aemond crouched and moved forward, eye searching for the raper. He was taking a lady of repute, he could hear that much from her accent. He arrived outside the stables, a horse whinnying in distress. Horses were smart like that, like his Vhagar, could pick up on people. The blonde snuck around the stables, quietly peering through slats until he saw the pair.

A…pretty young lady. Being defiled by some brute. Aemond swung open the door and yelled, “Stop now you raping cunt!” The man turned around with a growl, standing to his full height. He was obviously drunk. The man reached for his sword, clearly unable to tell he was about to swing on a Targaryen as Aemond had his cloak up.

The man wore the bull sigil of Bulwer. He had a great sword. Perfect, Aemond could outmaneuver the lummox. The girl held her arms over her exposed chest, mouth agape, deep eyes wide. The man swung down in a clumsy arc, the prince deflecting it and jumping to the side to strike at the man’s ankle, cutting him down. Bulwer howled and cursed, struggling to get up. Aemond yanked down his cloak and tossed it to the girl.

The bull’s face was etched with fear upon realization of who he just attacked. Aemond laughed bitterly, amused at the surprise. He crouched over the man and sheathed his sword, pulling out a sharp knife. The blonde politely called out, “Close your eyes my lady, I have to do something before this fool is sent to the wall.”

Bulwer trembled, struck with fear. Aemond grinned as he unlaced the man’s breeches, “Won’t have to freeze your cock and balls off at the wall if you don’t have any more.”

Cries and squalling of pain filled the tourney grounds, widely unheard by the feast. Now cradling his once privates, the Bulwer whimpered and moaned in pain. Aemond wiped his hands on the deviant’s clean doublet and stood back up.

The girl had gotten up by now, still closing her eyes. Aemond cleared his throat awkwardly and said, “It’s over now my lady. He won’t be able to hurt a lady again.” She opened her teary eyes and wrapped Aemond into a tight hug. The prince was shocked, wrapping his lean limbs around her waist, the jewels pressing into his sleeves. He murmured, “You’re safe, yes, what’s your house my lady?”

“C-Costayne.”

Black supporters. Aemond’s lips pressed together. He wanted the lady to be a fervent supporter of his family. The second son needed a wife too. Maybe this ordeal would change things around. She sighed, “I thought you were this scary, mean, vicious dog they kept at the keep.”

Aemond laughed, genuinely, he liked her melodic tone. He replied, “I can be, but I also practice chivalry.” She hummed, “Yes, I’ve seen that.” Aemond wanted to stay in her arms, smell her scent even if marred by the musk of horse.

He asked anyways, “Would you like an escort back?”

She shook her head, divine face looking up to his. Costayne meekly asked, “Would it be inappropriate if we stayed like this for awhile, my prince?” Aemond found himself pressing his lips to hers gently, sharing a sweet peck. He murmured, “Probably so, but let’s find a place better than around him.” They both chuckled, held hands, and found a spot by the babbling brook.

They’d find them later. Holding hands and chatting. That would be the last time she stayed in the Reach for many a year.

#aegon ii targaryen #hotd fanfic #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader #jacaerys valaryon x reader #aemond fluff #aemond targaryen x reader #asks answered

[ineffable-endearments]

The Crow Road and Good Omens: Further-Out Thoughts

Here are a few more thoughts; they're more interpretive yet than the ones in my original post about The Crow Road.

I see some similarities between Prentice and both Aziraphale and Crowley.

Prentice feels this need to believe there's something beyond this life, in large part because this life can be ended so quickly and so easily, and it isn't fair. Throughout the novel, he is never very interested in organized religion; his interest in spirituality is truly about the feeling that there has to be a deeper meaning to existence than this one life.

Likewise, I tend to interpret Aziraphale as willing to consider that the people who make up his institution are fallible, but still stuck on the idea that Heaven is performing an essential role: someone should be up there Doing Good, or, more accurately, encouraging people to Do Good. He has reservations about the existing spiritual establishment and how reflective of truth it is, but he still has this feeling that there has to be a greater power and a greater meaning that can be given to people, himself included, because otherwise, what would be the point?

Then again, there is a nonzero amount of Crowley in Prentice, too (and I know the point is that everyone has a little of each). Prentice is a college-aged young man trying to figure himself out in a world that can be profoundly unfair, and he wants to be allowed to experiment with the idea of life after death. Considering perspectives different from one's parents is part of growing up, after all. Kenneth is determined to steer his sons toward a specific worldview, and as much as Kenneth's perspective on spirituality is supported by the narrative, his stubbornness is also ultimately the thing that gets him killed. Prentice observes his mother's hands-off approach to ideology may have ultimately been more effective.

Doesn't this sound a little familiar? Prentice wants to be allowed to question, and he isn't willing to just shrug and accept unfairness without an argument. When he can't find satisfactory answers, he also tends to drown his anxiety and depression in alcohol and other substances.

All in all, I feel we may have seen the conflict between Crowley and Aziraphale playing out in Prentice's character development; they are the angel and demon on his shoulder, as usual. But the conflict was resolved in the way that I think and hope Crowley and Aziraphale's will be on a grander scale. Prentice ended up having to surrender his philosophy, especially the life-after-death stuff, but then his deep need for a sense of meaning was satisfied much better by finding that meaning here on Earth.

There's also an interesting interaction between the two stories in relation to the afterlife. Namely, The Crow Road takes place in a universe that presumably works just like ours, while we know for sure that in Good Omens, there is an afterlife of one kind or another. We can't be sure how it works, but we've seen human characters in both Season 1 and Season 2 maintain their consciousness after death. I wonder if maybe in the world of Good Omens, human mortality is somehow being exploited by the higher-ups?

Anyway, as a result of this difference, Good Omens also has a special opportunity with the "death doesn't give life meaning - life gives itself meaning!" message. Its main characters are immortal. The book already subverts the whole "oh, being immortal sucks, everyone eventually wants to die" trope by portraying Crowley and Aziraphale's motivation to maintain their Earthly lives instead of starting Armageddon. Season 2 added depth to that, and Season 3 has an opportunity to fully flesh out why exactly life on Earth is where meaning is created even when there is no time limit, even if people don't have the inevitability of death looming over their heads.

Another thought: something a little ironic in The Crow Road is that the incident that led to Kenneth's death "should," theoretically, have made Prentice believe in higher powers, if it was really about that. It certainly convinced Hamish. However, the whole conflict between himself and his father was more about the meaning Prentice sought, so instead, it pushed Prentice toward Kenneth's ideology.

I am wondering if this points toward an event that Aziraphale "should," theoretically, take to mean that Heaven is right or all-powerful or otherwise can't possibly be defied, but which will be the very thing that convinces him the entire system is wrong.

Finally, @loverdosis brought up the great point that memory and history are also major conceptual themes in The Crow Road. In The Crow Road, memory and history give the characters their sense of identity. Prentice also mentions it as one way people can achieve a kind of continuity that doesn't infringe on the importance of life itself. And all of that meshes with Good Omens. So far, Gabriel's plot has involved a very strong focus on memory issues, and through that, we've seen that there is something going on with Crowley's memory as well, although exactly what it is - how much of his memory is missing, who took it, whether he can or wants to get it back - is uncertain. Beelzebub described Gabriel's memories as "All your...you," implying that memories are the majority of what gives Gabriel his identity. The memory wipe punishment is very much a death sentence.

After consideration, I would not be surprised to see memory make a roaring comeback as a theme in Season 3. It could even bring themes of identity and purpose with it.

#good omens #the crow road #go3 speculation #s3 speculation #go 2 spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers #go s2 spoilers #good omens book club