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#bringing this back after today’s lore
ambreiiigns · 1 year
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you need to understand that the line "nobody exists on purpose nobody belongs anywhere everybody's gonna die come watch tv?" makes me Break Down
#i took a nap. had a fuckin miserable dream abt n**. and so now we pretend it didn't happen by bringing this up again instead#how's that sound? cool? everybody cool w that? great#anyway first time watching that episode was gutting#i don't remember things like these a lot bc when i watch episodic shows everything kinda melts together#but that was insane. bc intergalactic cable is the funniest thing in the world#and then it hits you w all this existential bullshit at the same time#and the show hadn't shown any continuity so far right. i still didn't know if it was gonna have linear lore or if everything was#autoconclusive or selfcontained or however you say that in english and my brother Refused to tell me ANYTHING#so when morty points at the fucking graves????? and that's how they tell me Yes This Will In Fact Have Continuity#boy i felt Gutted. i did not see that coming. and that line just 😭😭😭😭😭😭#the delivery the earnestness the the just the. you know. like it gets to me i Feel that#like literally so true. shit sucks nothing's worth anything so let's just do pointless little things that make us happy for as long as#we can. that Is the only way to go on. yk like zombieland and enjoy the little things i LIVE by that#that's when i decided i was gonna keep watching rick and morty w gioele even after we finished sk8#and now i'm talking abt it on tumblr#i'll be normal again tomorrow we go back to ghost posting but today we are being consumed by rick and morty#oh nay
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kaciebello · 3 months
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Band-aids of death
Masterlist
Luke Castellan x Hades! reader (implied, fem)
Percy Jackson x Hades! reader (platonic)
Summary: Percy meets the bandaid dealer who has his friend so smitten
Warning: Absolutely non, teeth rotting stuff really, no use of y/n
author note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. I read the books long ago and I'm currently in the process of re-reading them, so some lore might be wrong. Also using what I remember from the show! Proofread by me and me only :(
word count: 1347
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Percy has been in at this camp stuff for a week now and he was just not loving it. From the overcrowded cabin 11 to Clarisse's relentless bugging, he just wanted to go home. This was his home now, yes, but that does not mean he can't yearn for better. And on top of all that, it seems like he's good at absolutely nothing. If there was a competition at being bad at everything he would still somehow end up in second place.
Today was no better. Luke, Counselor of the Hermes cabin, has decided that maybe Percy could take on a sword fight. He couldn't. Not like he could go against the best swordsman in the last 300 years anyway. After what felt like hours, Luke finally gave the boy a break and Percy felt like he could breathe. Only for a second that is, because his friend decided to take him to a new area of the camp.
Walking to a small building only lightly connected to the infirmary was rather ominous. While everywhere in the camp where people, this shack could be abandoned and he would not be surprised. His friend. however, walked faster than normally, seemingly excited to show him what's inside.
They stopped by the open door and Percy could finally see that it was not abandoned and the little two-story house was, indeed, occupied. Looking at his friend with suspicion, who now sports a wide grin on his face, Percy could not help but think there was more to it than Luke said.
Walking in, Luke chimes the bell that sits on the top of the door frame. The girl who, until now, was checking out the shelves of what seems to be medicine and chemicals turns around with a confused look. She wore the same ‘ camp uniform ‘ as everyone else, confirming to Percy that she was one of them as well. Although her shirt seemed to have switched color schemes and was black with an orange print of the camp name.
“ Hello Sweetheart, how's the inventory going?” Luke asks and pushes Percy slightly in front of him, not something he appreciates. The girl, unamused, does not answer his question. Instead, she answers him with her own. “ What brings you here, Castellan? Last time I checked you did not need allergy medication.” Chuckle could be heard from his friend. Percy, not interested in their bickering, looks around the room. Small table by the door with a stack of paper, a black mysterious jar, and what Percy recognizes as an old land-line phone. One wall of the room was just a shelf with what he now knows for sure is medicine with a door at the end. By the window, there was an old medical bed, and next to it, stood, by Percy's standards, an unstable chair.
A hand on his shoulder snaps him out and he turns his head back to the girl. “ So what's wrong with you?” She asks and motions him to sit on what seems to be a more sturdy version of the same chair he just saw. “ Other than that I suck at everything and my father not bothering to claim me? nothing much really.” Laugher was heard from the two older campers. 
“ No, I meant like, why are you here guys? If you were training with Lu here, you might have some scratches.” She points to Luke, who seems to be proud just of the fact that she acknowledges him.  Before he can answer she continues, “Although if you're seriously hurt, maybe you should visit the Apollo kids, I ain’t no nurse, really.”
“ No need for that, we just need some band-aids.” Luke proclaims and pats his chest where his heart is. “ You have bandaids in your cabin, and I know for sure, I saw your siblings steal some. “ she snapped back softly at his friend.’ It's in their nature’ Luke says under his nose and takes a few steps to the girl putting his arm around her shoulders. “ Sweetheart here is a terrible nurse-”
“Hey! I am an excellent necromancer!”
“Too bad that your patient is still alive, Sweets,” Luke argues back at the girl. She just shakes her head and walks behind her desk. Luke follows closely behind her like a magnet was pulling him over. Percy watches as she opens a drawer and pulls out the biggest box of band-aids he has ever seen. “ What kind do you want, em…” She looks at him kinda awkwardly. 
“Percy.” “ Right, Percy, do you want Spiderman band-aid? It's a big hit with the younger campers.” She smiles and pulls out an impressive collection of Spiderman band-aids. “ Ah, no, normal ones are fine.” I watch as a pout appears on her face as she puts them back and starts to look through the box as if looking for something. 
“I want the Spiderman one.” Chimes in Luke who is now leaning over this girl. “ You can get the boring ones, Castellan, I don't care.” It was now Luke's turn to pout. “ What cabin are you from?”  Percy asks, wanting to learn some more about the girl that has his friend so smitten. Her eyes look up at him before going back to her box.
“ I don't have a cabin, I sleep on the second floor. There is a staircase in the back.” She says as it is the most normal thing ever. Which it was, just not in camp half-blood. That confuses Percy, from what he learned at the camp so far, everyone that has been claimed either has a cabin or just sleeps in Hermeses one. So that is exactly why he asks. “ Why don't you sleep in Hermes cabin?” The girl straightens her posture, seeming in thought. His friend hugged her from behind around her shoulders. They remind him of an old married couple. 
“Well, there are cabins for the twelve Olympians. My dad has no throne on Olympus. He kinda does his own thing down under.” “ Australia?” “No Percy, the underworld.” She says though giggles and wiggles herself from the hug. She makes her way forward to Percy and stands in front of him carefully peeling parts of the band-aid. 
“ Your dad is Hades?” Hum leaves her as an answer. Focusing on placing the band-aid right above his eyebrow where he scratched himself earlier during training with Luke. When she's done, she turns to a black jar on her table and opens it. To Percy's surprise, she pulls out a lollipop and gives it to him. “You're good to go fighter, Don't stay here longer than you need to!” She sings and ushers the boy out of the chair and to the door. Percy turns to his friend,
 “ Luke, are you not coming?” he asks waiting for him to answer. Luke gives him a look of fake thought, Percy knows it's fake because he, himself used it many times back at the academy. Luke shakes his head and smiles.
“No, I haven't been treated by my nurse yet.” The girl groans and snaps her head to the sky. Percy just shrugs and walks out of the building. As he opens his lollipop, he turns his head back to look at his friends.
He can see Luke being peppered with kisses on his face. When the girl moves he can see a band-aid with hearts that now decorates the scar on his face. Percy just chuckles and moves on, determined to find Grover or Annabeth to tell them what he witnessed. He failed to notice his bright blue bandaid with bubbles on it.
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targaryen-dynasty · 3 months
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TO STOKE A FLAME.
Aemond Targaryen x servant!Reader
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WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MINORS DNI; p in v, oral (m receiving), power imbalance (prince and maid), mutual pining, female Reader
WORDS: 4K
NOTES: this is written for the writing challenge hosted by @targaryenvampireslayer I got the prompt "Just relax for me, I'll make it feel good" and the trope mutual pining. This was my first time writing mutual pining, and I hope it's at least slightly fitting lol.
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When you’re first assigned to cleaning the chambers of the King’s second son, your heart leaps for it means you are able to escape the tortures of being a scullery maid for a position that is at least a bit higher ranked, and not as ungrateful and strainful. 
Prince Aemond is an early riser, already up long before first light, and whenever he sets off to train with the sword in the morning, it’s time for you to take care of his quarters. 
There’s another maid that has been offered the same opportunity, only that she is in charge of making the chambers Prince Aegon presentable, and from what you have gathered, you wouldn’t want to trade places with her. 
Aemond’s chambers are always immaculate when you step into them. Everything is in its place, and the air is always filled with the cool morning breeze from the windows he’s kept open. Quite different to the quarters of his older brother. 
But what they do have in common are their questionable reputations. 
While Aegon is promiscuous, known to pinch and fondle at any serving girl who strays within his reach, Aemond is somewhat feared, at least among the staff. Most servant girls keep well away from the prince, and a part of you is certain it is solely because of the black eyepatch he dons after losing his eye, and the grim expression he usually holds on his face. 
The other maid that tends to his chambers with you is overly cautious when dusting or putting fresh linens on his bed, something that even makes you swallow thickly. However, you can’t seem to bring yourself to share their sentiment. 
How could you?
Despite only meeting the prince very briefly, you feel like every day that you sweep through his chambers, you get to know him more and more. If there’s bedlam following in Aemond’s wake when he leaves in the morning, it merely consists of several books scattered all over his desk, his armchairs and sometimes even his bed. 
Most of them deal with dragon lore, history, and a variety of other subjects which you wouldn’t expect to be read by any other lord, making clear that the prince is very well educated, and always strives to learn more. 
And though he keeps his chambers mostly spotless, there’s very much of his personality in them – if you read between the lines. 
More oft than not, the armchairs close to the fireplace don’t stand in their usual positions, turned to the side to face each other with one of them being piled by books or scrolls. And you know from the servants that he’s often found sitting beside the fireplace either in deep thought or engrossed in a book with the flames of the fire dancing in the corner of his eye. 
You’re cleaning his quarters all by yourself today for Darla, the other maid assigned, has been called to take care of something else, which means you’re granted slightly more time for Aemond’s chambers. 
Kneeling in front of the fireplace, you’re knocking off as much ash and debris as possible back into it, before some of it is swept up and emptied into the pail standing next to you. 
You’ve been a bit too engrossed in your task when the doors behind you burst open, catching you by surprise and startling you. There’s only one person that could and would enter the prince’s quarters at this hour of the day – the prince himself. 
As you hurry to get back on your feet, already straightening and dusting off the skirt of your maid attire, you’re a bit too quick and hit your head on the ledge of the fireplace, your mob cap falling to the ground in the process. 
It’s a stinging pain that shoots right through your whole body, and a throbbing that settles at the crown of your head. You bring a hand up to soothe the pain at least a bit, before you’re reminded of the reason why you got up in the first place. 
Gritting your teeth, you take in a sharp breath and lower your hand, bobbing a small curtsy with a strained ‘Prince Aemond’ leaving your lips to the man that stands still in the room, clearly regarding you.
“My apologies, I–” you say, trying to make excuses and wanting to state that you’re just about to leave, but he cuts you off. 
“Are you well?” he asks, though there is a lilt of amusement in his voice. “I apologize for startling you, that was not my intent.”
What’s even more unusual than him apologizing to you, a servant, for barging into his own chambers is that he's inquiring about your well-being. You’ve never before been acknowledged by any of the Targaryen’s, not that you expected it, and feeling his gaze on you kind of makes you nervous. 
He raises his brow when there doesn’t come an answer from you, and you take it as your cue to speak. “I–Yes, Prince Aemond,” you stutter, bowing your head. Raising it again, your hand brushes the crown of it briefly, the spot still throbbing despite it happening a few moments ago. “I am well. It’s–It’s nothing, my prince.” 
Gathering your things, you’re caught off guard for a second time since he’s entered his chambers as he slowly approaches you. He has a sympathetic smile on his lips now, and you’re not sure if it’s the embarrassment or him coming close enough to tower above you, but your body feels like it’s been put on fire. 
“Are you certain you’re well?” he asks, eye flitting from your head to meet your eyes. “You’ve struck your head rather hard.”
He reaches to inspect the spot on your head, yet he hesitates and pulls back right before his fingers could brush your hair. You’re slightly disappointed, but your pounding heart is grateful. Just the mere proximity brings a blush to your cheeks and has you shifting your weight from one leg to the other, and you’re certain you wouldn’t have been able to handle him touching you. 
There’s a moment of silence between you, and your hands clutch the handle of the pail tight enough for your knuckles to blanch from the force. It’s unnerving, and you’re torn between wanting to stay and wanting to leave. You’re afraid he’s not the man you’ve made up in your mind, that there’s just a hint of truth in the rumors that make their way around staff and court. 
His voice cuts through the silence like a sharp blade, smooth and somewhat calming. “What’s your name?”
Taking in a deep breath, you tell him your name, but not without your eyes darting to the ground. His gaze is heavy, too heavy for you to meet it, and you feel as though there’s something else than curiosity woven within it.
“You’re quite flustered over nothing,” he hums, and the way your name slips past his lips with so much ease almost makes you melt right then and there; at least it’s enough to make you forget that he’s clearly noticed the effect he has on you. 
Aemond takes note of you being nervous around him, his attention causing your blood to rush through your veins. It seems as though it’s a rather strong reaction that you have to him, something not many women feel when he comes near them. It’s endearing.
Your eyes flicker upwards to meet his good one again, and you straighten your back for another curtsy. 
“M-my apologies, Prince Aemond.”
You can spot the exact moment the corners of his lips curl into a teasing smirk, your timid demeanor and your nervousness the trigger for it. And being as cocky as he is, he thinks he could have a bit of fun with you. 
“It seems you’re rather out of sorts for something so trivial,” he notes, his tone teasing and playful, matching the flicker of mischief in his eye. “Perhaps I should inspect you myself to see if you have in fact sustained any injuries.”
His words make you feel as if the world around you is slowing down, making everything feel almost unbearable. You’re finding it incredibly hard to look him in the eye without blushing or your breath becoming heavy, and therefore fix them on the ground again. Noticing his large feet in comparison to your much smaller ones, your thoughts briefly stray to what else of him might be large. 
But before you can answer him, or your thoughts can dive deeper, Aemond places a hand beneath your chin and gently tilts your face back up for you to meet his gaze. You’ve only seen one other in passing, and even then you’re certain he’s paid no mind to you at all, so his touch comes unexpected. But you don’t tense, and you certainly don’t pull away. However, you’re unsure if you should give in and lean into it. 
His finger brushes along your jawline, trailing down the curve of your neck, and coming close to your collarbone, a heat following in its wake. He stops for a second, as if he’s debating whether or not he should move his touch any further. 
Aemond’s surprised by your reaction, yet he also realizes that you’re much more interesting than any of the other maids for they were all alike – all not daring to look at him or stay in his presence for longer than a few minutes. But you’re different. 
He could already tell by the way you so neatly clean and store his books when he’s spent his night reading by the fire, or how you seem to pay extra attention when you’re putting fresh linens on his bed, fluffing his pillows without the hurry the previous chambermaid has had. 
And seeing his touch having such a significant impact on you, the little maid he’s spent so much time dreaming and fantasizing about, feeds a desire he didn’t have before – the desire to bed you, to claim you. 
“Get on your knees,” he orders, hooded eye looking down at you. 
Swallowing thickly, your mind struggles to comprehend what he asked of you. “I-what?” you stammer in disbelief. 
“You heard me. On your knees.” He’s a bit firmer now, and uses the slight grip he has on your shoulder to give you a little help sinking down. You follow his lead, the pail rattling onto the ground. 
Your hands are folded in your lap when you gaze up at him, eyes wide and curiously studying his next move. With your thumbs brushing over each other, you try to keep your fluttering nerves at bay, grazing your skin to distract yourself from the throbbing that blossoms between your legs. 
Aemond looms over you, reaching out to cup your cheek with one hand. There’s something in the position you’re in, and the combination of his gentle touch and stern orders that gets to your head, and lures you in to lean into his hand. It also makes you a bit bolder as you place a hand on his thigh in return.
It piques his interest, obvious in the way he raises a brow, and his eye flickers to where your hand rests on his body. But he doesn’t shy away from the touch. 
“Do you know what I require of you?” Aemond asks, sterner than before. 
You bow your head, batting your eyelashes at him in an innocent manner. “I do, my Prince.”
That’s all he has to hear before he swiftly unlaces the front of his breeches and tugs them down barely enough to free his cock and stones, the sight alone making your breath hitch in your throat. He’s well endowed, and far bigger than the cock of the one man you’ve slept with before.
You release a shaky breath, replaying all the knowledge you’ve gathered about pleasuring a man with your mouth, and catch a whiff of musk mixed with the salty smell of sweat – he’s definitely trained with the sword this morning. 
Squeezing his thigh, your eyes flicker between his and his hard cock as the slight nod of his head encourages you to curl your hand around it, your thumb and index finger barely touching. 
He throbs in your palm already, and the tip is covered in a red that makes it clear he’s desperate to be buried inside of something; probably not caring whether it’s your mouth or your cunt.
Even though you cower beneath his dominating presence, a jolt of boldness strikes you that makes you lean in and lick a flat stripe from the base of his cock up to the bulbous tip. A salty taste lingers on your tongue as you drag it over the slit, making you hum appreciatively, seemingly pleased to witness the effect your touch and presence have on the prince’s body. 
Aemond buries his hands in your hair, loosening the bun you’ve put it into this morning, and grabs a fistful of it. It’s a sharp tug of him that catches your attention, and your wide eyes flit up to meet his demanding gaze. 
Spurred on by the heavy breaths moving his chest, you swallow, and eventually part your lips to slowly ease him inside, and even though he holds you by your hair, he’s generous enough to not force himself inside, allowing you to move as you please. 
“Fuck,” he growls as he gets accustomed to the warmth and tightness of your mouth, head tipping back to release a bawdy groan. 
You hollow your cheeks around him, and, after a few moments that allow you to adjust to him, start to bob your head back and forth his thick length, flattening your tongue against him for added stimulation. 
Growing bolder and bolder with each passing moment, you squeeze your thighs together every time the tip of his cock brushes the back of your throat, robbing you of the ability to breathe until you pull off of him again. 
With his hand in your hair, Aemond senses you getting more comfortable, and starts to guide your head along his member, encouraging you to set up a quicker pace to which you eagerly comply. 
“That’s it,” he groans, not able to tear his eye from the sight of your lips wrapped around him as his cock repeatedly disappears inside of your mouth.
Droplets of your saliva dribble from the corners of your lips down your chin with how fast you sink down on him, and the lewd sounds of his soaked cock sliding back and forth past your lips fill the prince’s chambers, hardly drowned out by his grunts and groans. 
At this point, you’re drenched in your arousal, the linen of your small clothes clinging to your swollen mound in a way that’s almost uncomfortable. 
While you bring one hand up to clasp around the rest of his cock that doesn’t fit into your mouth, the other grips his thigh a bit harder than before, holding onto him for dear life as he uses your face however he pleases. 
You feel the muscles of his thigh tense and contract under your palm and his cock throb inside of you, indicating that he’s close to reaching his peak. It’s the first time you pleasure a man with your mouth, and you’re not quite sure what to expect. But before you can brace yourself for whatever might come, Aemond pulls you off of him by your hair, prompting you to topple back to sit on your haunches. 
You lock your teary eyes with his good one, lips smacking as his musky and salty taste spreads on them and your tongue. “My Prince, I–”
“Remove your clothes,” he interrupts you, his voice less friendly and more a command. 
There are so many thoughts rattling your mind right now, and you don’t know where to start and what to process. 
“I wasn’t asking,” he growls, his impatience showing as you don’t comply quickly enough. 
With a bow of your head, you rise to your feet and peel the beige-ish apron off of your body, the red dress and smallclothes following suit. You waste no thought on your modesty, on the fact that you’re standing bare in front of a prince of the mighty House Targaryen. The longing for him that has built with all the days you’ve cleaned his pristine chambers, and the undeniable aching between your legs don’t allow you to. 
You’re undressed when he stalks around you, regarding you like he’s the hunter and you’re his prey. You see that your obedience arouses him, his hard cock throbbing and bouncing with each step he takes around you. It’s thrilling in the best way possible, and the feeling of being desired by him feeds your confidence.
“Are you just watching, or will the prince undress as well?” 
His eye narrows and flickers up to yours at your question, and there’s the hint of a smile adorning his features. “Would you like that?” 
Biting your bottom lip, a blush creeps on your cheeks. “Very much.”
As you size him up, you notice a flush blossoming from his cheeks down his neck, the same warmth you feel obviously spreading through his body, too. 
“Then I suppose that I’ll oblige.”
You watch with half-lidded eyes as he removes his clothing, slipping out of layer after layer, starting with the black leather robe, and ending with his smallclothes.  
You all but drag your eyes over his lithe frame, taking in every muscle that ripples beneath his pale skin, and every silver, coarse hair that trails from below his navel to his cock and the sac of his stones. 
It seems like he basks in your attention, in the way you stare at him in awe as you lick your lips, and he’s certainly not afraid of showing himself in his full glory. 
“Get on the bed,” he says, smugly. “On your hands and knees.”
This time you know better than to take a few seconds to comply, bowing your head before climbing his bed right away, getting in the desired position. You suddenly feel vulnerable and exposed, completely at his mercy in a way you’ve never experienced before. However, your curiosity and desire overshadow any reservations you could have. 
“Pray tell, have you lain with a man before?” You feel the mattress dip beneath his weight as he slowly settles behind you. His hands find your hips, and you shiver with anticipation. 
Looking at him from over your shoulder, you nod. “Just once, my prince.”
A soft hm rubles in his chest at your words, and he raises an eyebrow, intrigued by your words. You certainly seem to take him very seriously, which isn’t unusual given his station, but it’s your honesty that’s a whole different matter to him. “You enjoyed it, I presume?”
Still meeting his gaze, you swallow thickly. You’re hesitant to answer, not sure why it’s of importance, but he doesn’t seem willing to let you off the hook just yet. “Yes, I did.”
Aemond gives your flesh an appreciative squeeze at that, and shuffles close enough for you to feel his cock press against your arse. “Would you be willing to again?”
You press your lips into a thin line to stop them from pulling into a grin, but fail miserably. The prince behind you takes that as his cue to continue, and you’re most grateful when you feel him drag the tip of his cock through your soaked folds. 
“Just relax for me,” he purrs, his eye fixed on the motions of his hand, watching as his cock disappears inside of you. “I’ll make it feel good.”
The moment you stretch around him, you take in a sharp breath, his cock breaching your cunt at a teasingly slow pace that makes sure you feel every vein and ridge of him drag along your walls.
With his hands coming back to rest on your hips, he pulls you onto his cock until his hips press against your arse, taking his time to adjust to your tightness. The ‘shit’ he mumbles doesn’t go unnoticed by you, a renewed wave of your arousal drenching his cock and the sac of his stones. 
If his impatience hasn’t been running thin before, it certainly does now, because the first gentle, sensual thrusts are quickly replaced by merciless pounding. You don’t mind it for you’ve been thoroughly soaked, and enjoy the feeling of his cock repeatedly brushing the spot inside of you that makes your vision go blurry. 
Aemond brings a hand between your shoulders, applying a good bit of pressure to press your chest down and your face into the pillows. Your head turns to the side, but you’re not able to look at him.
His breathing is heavy, strained pants leaving him, and his hand trails back to grope your arse. 
“Fuck, what an obedient girl they’ve ordered to take care of my chambers–of me,” Aemond rambles behind you, bowing forwards to put a bit more of his weight on your small frame. “Taking me so well. Giving me exactly what I want.” 
The praise goes straight to your head, and you want to answer, but the words die on your tongue, replaced by quiet whimpers and whines that grow wanton as he splits you open with a hard, percussive thrust. Then another follows, and another, keening at the sweet sounds you make only for him. 
Not able to focus on anything else than the pressure building inside of your belly, you push your hips back against him, and he counters by pulling you back with each of his thrusts, meeting him halfways which results in the lewd sounds of skin slapping on skin to echo off the walls. 
He’s making you feel so good, so wanted, that you’re certain you would keep going even if someone is to barge into his chambers, interrupting you.
As his hand snakes beneath your body to make contact with your pearl, you’re overcome with the true knowledge of how experienced Aemond actually is. He strums your body like the most talented lutenist, bringing you closer towards your sweet release. 
“Gods, I–” you whine into the pillows. 
The taut string inside of you snaps, and the pleasure within you soares through your veins. White, hot pleasure clouds your vision, his arm around you the only thing keeping you up right now. 
“That’s it,” Aemond grunts, and the snaps of his hips increase to the point your whines become hiccuped, catching in your throat with little to no time to fill your lungs with air. 
And then, his hips stutter, his throbbing cock spending itself deep inside of your quivering walls. He twitches and trembles so much that he’s forced to still his hips, and you take it as your cue to roll yours against him, helping him through his peak. 
The throbbing only stills once you’ve milked him for every drop of his seed and the last bit of the euphoric high subsides, making him come back to his senses. 
But there’s not much basking in the proximity for you, not when Aemond pulls out almost immediately after, climbing off the bed to get dressed again. The red dress is crudely thrown into your direction, silently making clear that it’s time for you to leave. 
It seems as though he’s embarrassed, because he has a hard time meeting your eyes, and doesn’t look at you when you get back in your clothes. But perhaps you’re just not catching the subtle glances he throws into your direction as your maid attire comes back to hug your curves. 
Tying the apron and fixing your hair, you reach for the pail. It’s then, with you bowing forwards, that you finally feel his seed trickling out of your cunt, and the sensation alone makes you shiver in an uncomfortable way. You certainly have to look for a quiet spot in the keep where you can clean yourself, since you’re not done working. 
You head for the door, but before you open it, his smooth voice catches your attention again. 
“You may leave now, but I expect you to come back and finish your task at the Hour of the Ghosts, for you have not cleaned the fireplace thoroughly enough.”
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matrixbearer2024 · 2 months
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Idea for your "get off my screen" series! So what if the reader is like visiting someone/housesitting for someone and they have a radio that reader is listening to because she loves it, and they (of course) bring their phone and laptop to stay talking to vox, and when they connect him to the TV in the living room and the first thing he sees is the radio and he's like "get that thing the fuck away from you" and the readers like "um, no? I love it. I was thinking about getting one for my room" and he's like "absolutely not"
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Get That Shit Off My Screen!
A/N: Oh this is fucking golden, I absolutely need to write this to displace the absolute angsty unit of an interlude I wrote hahahaha- I'll be finishing the requested interludes before I continue with the story. I ended up posting the continuation so y'all could already get down to brainstorming and scheming on lore ideas XD
A/N: Vox is kind of a pissy little rat here and we just annoy him a bunch more too lololol Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy the story and as always- Happy Reading!
You have seriously got to stop accepting favors from friends.
Because that was how you found yourself walking down the sidewalk on the way to go housesitting.
Just a week ago you'd had to impromptu take care of a little puppy.
And consequently placate a certain jealous TV demon-
And now you were asked to carry another favor as well.
Well, more like that friend practically begged you to accept.
You slightly readjusted the backpack you wore, it wasn't as light as hoped when you left your home.
Which, makes sense all things considered.
After all, it had your devices in there along with the necessities.
If you had to end up bored today you were going to rope in a certain annoying overlord just to avoid it.
Fumbling with the keys a bit, you opened the door to the house and entered before locking it behind you.
A habit you'd grown up with after your parents constantly reminded you to do so.
The home was... pretty big, especially compared to the place you were currently living in.
Tossing your bag onto the living room couch, you explored the rest of the home for a bit before returning.
"Gonna be housesitting today, mind if I connect you to the TV?"
When he simply replied with a thumbs up emoji, you figured he wasn't doing anything and just connected your laptop to the living room television again.
He didn't appear right away though, so you decided to look around the home once more.
It was filled with a lot of old stuff, reminiscent of a time gone by.
Which, kind of makes sense since it was the house of your friend's grandma that you were watching over for the day.
Ooooh- what's this thing?
"Hey doll sorry I'm late, got a bit delayed from a meeting and- GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THAT!"
You jumped at suddenly hearing Vox's words from the TV, when did he even get here?!
You had half a mind to yell at him for scaring you but you were far too curious about this old boxy object you found.
"Whaaa??? Why? What even is this?"
You asked while messing with the knobs, you doubted it even worked when it randomly started to play a song.
Oh.
OH.
So that's why he was so pissed.
And so you decided to troll with your digital companion as he often did to you.
"Woaaah, I've never seen one of these old radios before-"
"I'm surprised that one still works, it's an obsolete piece of fucking junk!"
Vox didn't really have time to scan the new surroundings when he'd connected to your devices and consequently the TV.
It didn't help either that the first thing he noticed was that you hunched over messing with something.
Only for him to find out moments later that it was a fucking radio.
The same old shit he'd been busy trying to wipe off the face of hell ever since his rival's return.
And the fact you were starting to get interested in it made his blood boil.
You held back a snicker seeing Vox just angrily glare at the old relic as it continued to play tunes.
You were aware of his entire vendetta against Alastor-
Or well, with as much as he'd tell you when he ranted.
But the fact something so simple as just a reminder set him off?
"Well I think it's niche, maybe I should get one of these for my room-"
"NO- zzZzzZsT THE FU- zZzST -CK YO- ZzZZsT -U AREN'T!"
You couldn't hold the laughs back this time, doubling over when Vox started buffering and yelling about how stupid and old the radio was.
He didn't even seem to notice that you were just pulling his leg.
Something this old wouldn't fit into your home, besides-
You had a new Bluetooth speaker with loads better audio quality.
This old thing was just a nice reminder of times long ago.
Times you didn't even live in.
"Finnneeeee, fine fine you pissbaby. I won't get one. Still think it's pretty funky though."
You said as you plopped down on the couch, noticing Vox's face was still glitching and fizzing on the TV screen.
He wasn't even looking at you and instead was glaring off to the side.
Was he that upset about the radio?
Really??
"Dude, you know as much as I do how ancient that stuff is. If I did end up getting one it would be because someone dumped it on me. I like looking at the past but not collecting relics."
Vox still didn't react and you raised an eyebrow.
Silent treatment huh?
Okay, you could play his game.
"Anyway, I was looking up stuff from around the decade you told me you died."
He finally looked back to you with a raised eyebrow.
Bingo.
"And I ended up finding this serial murder case that's still unsolved to this day."
Vox only furrowed his eyebrows, he wasn't in hell for murder.
As far as he was concerned, it was probably because he was a lying and cheating businessman.
As you continued to talk more about the details of the case, it started to paint a more familiar picture.
And as entertaining as it was to watch you discuss with him something interesting you found-
Vox was not fond of you talking about Alastor so avidly.
Geez, if only you'd look that cute talking about him like that.
What-
What?
That was probably the envy talking.
"Doll, I know you were probably trying to cheer me up but I'm kind of certain that's one of Alastor's cases."
"Huh? Why do you say that?"
"The old fuck's a cannibal. I knew for sure it was him when you mentioned the bodies were found cut up like a butchered pig."
At least Vox was talking to you again, even if he still looked more than peeved it was about his rival.
He actually looked more grumpy and pouty in your opinion-
But that was probably because you weren't seeing right.
"Well, why did you end up in hell then? I would've thought you'd be in for something just as horrible to be as powerful as you say you are."
Vox just sighed, he wasn't actually sure what got him dammed for eternity.
But he did a lot of bad things over the course of his life, so it was probably the accumulation of it all that had sent him into the inferno.
"What makes you ask dollface? Curious much?"
You just shrugged, shifting to lie down on the couch and just look up at the antique chandelier hanging above on the ceiling.
"Dunno, I just want to know more about you. I mean, I know enough- but I want to know more."
Vox could feel his screen heating up slightly in his chair.
Why did you have to be so damn cute-
The fact you wanted to know more about him, it made him feel... odd-
Well, a good odd.
He didn't really know what to do with himself.
"I'm not actually sure. I've been a businessman my whole life, probably the worst of the worst when it comes to principles but I haven't directly ever killed anyone if that's what you're guessing."
"Huh, makes me wonder if I'll end up in hell for the stunts I've pulled on other students too."
"The hacking? Or the blackmailing? Because I doubt either of those would actually send you down here."
"Oh come onnnn, I swear at this point I'll actually kill someone so I can guarantee I'd meet you."
You raised an eyebrow at the screen turning pink again.
Pfft, did he seriously get embarrassed by that?
A smile worked onto your face when Vox softly excused himself and disconnected from the TV.
Ha, cute.
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hongism · 11 months
Text
THIS WORLD. - k. hongjoong (m)
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➼ genre; smut (some minor angst and fluff) ➼ pairing; hongjoong x fem!reader ➼ au; outlaw!hongjoong, dystopian futurism, lore accurate ateez ➼ warnings; explicit smut ➼ rating; m/18+ ➼ wc; 4.5k
What he’s given you is essentially one chance and night. Nothing more and nothing less.
part of the outlaw miniseries.
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➼ smut warnings; piv, unprotected sex, oral: f, creampie, light choking/asphyxiation, dirty talk, breast/nipple play
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Cool night air brushes across your cheeks as you set foot on the roof, eyes already scanning your surroundings in the hopes of finding what you’re looking for here. Of course, it doesn’t take much — Hongjoong is a hard man to miss unless the government officials are looking for him, in which case he has an uncanny ability to make himself totally invisible in a crowd.
There are no crowds up here though; just you, him, and the night to keep you company.
You see him clearly across the stretch of roof that’s accentuated by gaudy neon signs and other electrical components that keep the bar below powered.
“Closed up shop for the night,” you offer as a means of greeting the man. He’s donned his usual dramatic regalia tonight as well, complete with the patterned bandana pulled up over his nose and the ridiculous cowboy hat he fetched out of a dumpster several months back. It matches the vibe of the bar, he had told you and Mingi. While you weren’t on board, Mingi was more than a little eager to pull together a similar outfit for himself. “Everyone else went home.”
K-Hot Chilli Peppers. When you saw the job listing online, you had laughed at the name before realizing that it’s only half as ridiculous as many of the other bars in Night City, and you weren’t about to be picky given that you were desperate to find a place that lets you actually use your tender’s license on the daily. Upon being hired, you were promptly told to not ask questions when two rugged outlaws came through the doors and went up to the roof without pause. Answers came on their own, naturally and over time as you peeled back the seemingly endless layers to the two vigilantes who had set up shop in your new place of employment.
Whatever the circumstances and however the stars aligned that night you saw the job listing, it all boiled down to this: standing across from Hongjoong on the rooftop under the stars with this magnetic sort of pull towards the man. A pull you shouldn’t even think to entertain mostly because you’d like to keep your job and also a little bit because you’d like to keep your life.
Hongjoong got a message today. You know that much because you saw the small moped buzz by in front of the bar after all the customers left, and though you don’t know who that delivery driver is, you know he always brings something more than crappy takeout. The most convincing piece of evidence came in how Mingi promptly stormed out of the bar without so much as a goodbye twenty minutes later, and now here you stand up on the roof with the last man standing not long after. You aren’t here to ask questions as that wouldn’t be in your right (fairly so).
“I’m gonna close up and lock everything, if you’re done?” you continue pressing when Hongjoong fails to say anything back to you. He turns, gaze sharp as it finds you across the rooftop. The next moment, he pulls his bandana down to rest around his neck and exposes his handsome face to you.
“We’re not gonna be around much longer.”
You pull your lips together and do your best not to frown. “They won’t know you were ever here.”
“They’re gonna come looking here. And they’re gonna rip the place apart trying to find us.” Hongjoong takes slow steps in your direction as he speaks, tone low and quiet as though trying to either threaten or warn you. You don’t think he has a need for either. “When they come knocking, it’s not gonna matter what you do know or what you don’t know. Just being affiliated by name is enough of a crime.”
“Business is too good to be knocked down by a little police search.”
Hongjoong sinks his teeth into his lower lip. The light from the neon signs bounces off his face and casts crude little shadows across the roof. He looks far too worried for your liking, almost like there’s a semblance of care in the man, which was not part of the plan. You think you’re the one to blame for that, considering how you can’t simply leave well enough alone and have to express some modicum of care for those around you, including the vigilante outlaws that frequent your workplace and stay after hours. And well, all these months that have passed in this comfortable routine have made the heart grow fonder in many ways.
You’re quite fond of him, you think, and maybe those feelings are reciprocated to some extent.
The sky is clear tonight, free of clouds but the lights and pollution from the city obstruct the stars somewhat even now. Curfew is about to begin, but there’s no chance of you making it home before the drones start patrolling the streets. You could have left thirty minutes ago — should have most likely, but that chance is well and gone now.
“We leave tomorrow. I don’t know when we’ll be back.”
When is merely code for if, and you’re not dumb enough to think otherwise. If he survives whatever obscene plan he’s ready to deploy, you’re positive that Hongjoong won’t come back or set food near the bar again, even as a hideout. Men like him don’t stick to one place for long, especially not when their heads are full of grandiose plans of anarchy and destruction. You don’t blame him for it, but it does make your heart ache a little more than it should.
Your shoes skid across the stone of the roof as you cross the distance between you and him. It breaks the silence you’ve presented as an answer to him, and Hongjoong’s eyes grow wider as you turn the space into an afterthought. Shaky hands find their way around Hongjoong’s shoulders then come to clasp behind his neck.
“Tell me you’ll survive,” you plead to the night air between your lips.
“Of course I will,” he answers without hesitation, whether a lie or a truth he is willing to truly stand by and believe. You don’t ask that he tell you he’ll return here; some dreams are a bit too far-fetched.
When your hands begin to fall away from him, Hongjoong dips his chin and slots his lips over your parted ones. You scramble to regain your hold on him, fingers stretching up to tangle in the dark blue strands of hair on the back of his head just below where his hat sits. The pressure against your mouth is faint to begin with, something small and searching as he tests the waters and waits for your response. As though pulling him closer and nearly kissing him moments ago wasn’t enough of a confirmation for whatever this is.
“This is all I can give you,” he exhales into your mouth, and you press another heated kiss against his lips. I don’t need more than this. This is enough. This is all I could ask for from someone like you. It would be nice if you could ask for more but this is all the greed you can bear. His hands wander from your hips up to the hem of your shirt that sits against the loops of your jeans. The first contact of his fingertips on bare skin hits you like a bucket of ice water and sends goosebumps all across your body.
“Hongjoong,” you say against his mouth as he palms his way down to your thighs. He does well to quiet whatever thoughts are rushing through your head right now with his lips, breaking from yours to mouth along the line of your jaw. The force of his body moving against yours is enough to push you back, and you fall into step with him in an almost haphazard sort of way. Your back hits the wall soon after, right beside the door you just came out of minutes prior, and now Hongjoong has you pressed against the concrete with a knee slipping between your thighs. “Hongjoong.”
“You can’t stay here.” The blunt tips of his painted nails dig into the flesh above your jeans. A gasp tumbles from your lips as he licks over a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, and it makes your knees buckle in turn. “I can have two of my men transport you to a different area of the city in the morning. Earlier the better. We won’t be enacting any plans under the sun’s gone down.” You busy yourself with the buttons keeping his shirt around his body.
“No.”
He pauses where he is, halfway to removing your shirt from your torso, and looks you in the eye. You abandon his shirt in favor of clasping both hands around his cheeks.
“I’m not going anywhere because you’re going to come back to me and get me yourself.” Rather than denying your wistfulness, Hongjoong offers a half-smile and a breathy laugh, one you share in yourself before pulling his face back up to your own. You taste his lips again, but this time you pay more attention to it, the hint of spice on his tongue as he pushes past the seam of your mouth and explores you further. Your hands are busy with his shirt once more under the urging of your eagerness to have him. He responds in kind by hiking your shirt up over your chest and dragging the blunts of his nails down over the exposed skin on his path to your pants.
“Let me go down on you?” Your chest tightens at the proposition and at the way his voice sounds inexplicably strained from the mere thought of tasting you.
“Take this stupid shirt off first, for fuck’s sa—” Frustration wins the battle against his clothing, and Hongjoong leans away from you with a clear, resounding laugh that makes your stomach turn to mush. You ought to kick yourself in the side of the head for not acting on the blatant chemistry dancing between the two of you before now. Still, if this truly is a one-and-done thing, you’re going to do the absolute most to make it worth it. And maybe a bit unforgettable for both of you. Hooking your fingers under the handkerchief still tied about his neck, you pull Hongjoong close once again. He rushes to brace his hands on either side of you, his shirt still dangling from where it remains tucked into his ridiculous faux leather pants. His mouth goes straight for your neck, pulling the skin between his teeth and sucking so harshly at it that you feel tingles rush up to your skull. Your whine is music in the distant noise of the city, softly exhaled against the side of his head and disturbing the hair behind his ear. His hat is beginning to get in your way now too, especially as he kisses a path down to where he left your shirt. You catch the brim just before he goes lower, stripping it off his head with the hand you have draped around his shoulders. When he looks up at you from between your breasts, you smile, close-lipped but with an arched brow meant to tease further.
“The amount of filthy, heinous jokes on my mind right now,” he groans, head dipping forward to rest against your chest.
“If you make any sort of cowboy joke I’ll make sure you finish in your hand and nowhere else.” The threat is halfhearted of course, but it makes Hongjoong laugh in that obscenely pretty way again and you revel in the sound as he frees your breasts just enough to have access to them. Your nipples are already hardened peaks thanks to the simple touches from earlier, but the cool air stiffens them even further before Hongjoong has the chance to pull one into his mouth. Your back curls up off the wall, Hongjoong pinches your right nipple, and at the same moment, he pushes you back to the wall with enough force to punch a moan out of you.
“F-Fuck, Hongjoong.” You’re suddenly rather grateful to have something to hold onto because otherwise you would be digging your nails into your palms and making yourself bleed. As it is, you might run the risk of ruining Hongjoong’s treasured hat with how tight you’re gripping it at present. Your other hand sits on his bicep, atop the black-lettered inking that dances across his arm and reminds you that this man in your arms is one of a kind. You wonder, far and away in the back of your brain, how many have had the pleasure of being in your current position. He disperses those runaway thoughts mere seconds later; his hand sneaks down from its perch cupping your breast and locks onto the button keeping your pants together. The resulting lewd and wet pop! that comes from him pulling his lips away from your nipple makes your neck heat up.
“Bet I could make you cream your panties without even getting in your pants,” he quips as the button comes loose. Deftly, he works the zipper down in the same smooth movement.
“Who are you trying to impress, cowboy? You’ve already got me for the night.”
The muscles in his neck strain as he laughs and tilts his chin to the side, and your breath hitches watching him sink to his knees between your legs. Hongjoong folds his fingers around your wrist — the hand that currently holds his hat by the brim — and slowly, he guides you to place it back where it belongs atop his head.
“There. Now you can call me that again.” You can’t hide the unsteadiness of your breaths from him like this, even though he’s currently occupying his focus with stripping you of both jeans and underwear in one go. You brace a hand over your heart just to make sure it's still part of you despite racing like you’ve just run a marathon. Hongjoong’s lips skate against the inside of your knee when he lifts your ankle and carefully pulls the boot from your foot. Fabric follows suit quickly, then he commits to the same routine for your other leg — complete with the ghosting kisses and soft drags of his nails over the bare skin of your thighs. The growing pit of arousal in your stomach is so heavy that you think it might simply drip out of you the moment he touches your folds.
“Hongjoong,” you whisper. His kisses climb to the inside of your thighs, close enough to exhale heated breath across your pussy, but he doesn’t push further than that. Content to sit between your legs in the lewdest of positions and stare up at you through fluttering lashes.
“That’s not what you called me.” Hongjoong grins, cheek brushing against your thigh so close to your sex that your muscles twitch. “Maybe I’ll consider it—” he enunciates the word particularly harshly “—and do whatever you’d like?”
“You’re so — ugh, I want you to eat me out,” you mumble into the cradle of your hands, hardly able to look down at the man and be expected to speak like a normal functioning human being in this sort of predicament. He’s silent in return. “Cowboy.”
The veil of seriousness drops at that, and you’re the first to laugh at the sheer absurdity of calling him such a thing right now. Hongjoong can’t seem to keep himself together either, huffed laughter spilling out of him in turn.
“I wasn’t serious about you calling me that, y/n, I was just teasing. But I guess you want it pretty damn bad, huh?”
“Shut up!” Your tone contorts into a cracked gasp as Hongjoong wraps a hand back and around your thigh and spreads your legs over his face. Your hand flies to cover your mouth — something done out of pure instinct — and the man beneath you is quick to tut his disapproval.
“Let me hear you, pretty. I don’t want you covering anything up.”
“I-It’s the middle of the night,” you argue through your fingers.
“And? Wake the whole damn city if you have to, I want you to cry on my cock.”
You let your hand fall away and come to rest atop Hongjoong’s head (his hat, rather). Your view of what he’s doing is entirely obscured except for the slightest glint of his eyes when he tilts his chin against your cunt. You can’t seem to tear your gaze off of him regardless, lips parted and quivering as he presses his tongue between your folds and takes his first taste of you. The tension in your gut is wound into a knot so tight that your eyes burn and sting at the corners. Hongjoong takes you into his palm, onto his tongue, and into his deft fingers, and unravels you gloriously.
Two fingers dip lower and press against your entrance. He teases you with the pad of his middle finger only, toying with your hole and pushing into you ever so slightly before retracting to circle your clit with his tongue. He can’t run his mouth as he very much loves to in this position, but you’re finding that he makes use of his mouth in other more devilish ways, another talent he keeps tucked under his belt that you’re reaping the benefits from.
You can’t think of the last time you got laid, and trying to think of the last good fuck you had would be an even taller order. To imagine when a man last ate you out with actual passion and not simply as a means to an end might be impossible, or perhaps Hongjoong is simply keen on blowing every last sexual experience you’ve had out of the water in one go. When his fingers finally, at long last, stretch you open, you cry out with a moan so loud that it would be a miracle if no one heard it.
“Gonna make you taste yourself on my lips, pretty. Make your little cunt cream all over my cock until I fill you up with cum.” You jerk Hongjoong’s head almost violently, a sharp response to the way his fingers curl against your walls, but it doesn’t deter him in the slightest from the task at hand. He pulls your clit between his lips and sucks until your knees give out under you. It sends his fingers deeper into your cunt in the same motion, nearly making you come undone.
“T-Too much, too much, Hongjoong, it’s — fuck, fuck, ah!” You fold in on yourself, free hand moving to press against your stomach as the pressure in you reaches an unbearable degree. Hongjoong works his fingers in and out of you at a steadily increasing pace and almost seems to be making a game of the way he curls them each time he flicks his tongue against your clit just for another moan to climb out of your throat. Each sound is more broken than the last, sweat beads on your forehead, and you think there’s a euphoric end in sight just for him to pull away without warning. Your walls clench tight around nothing as his fingers are now gone from you and sucked between his own lips. Dazed and frustrated, you pass an incredulous stare his way just for him to grin back at you, tongue teasing the vee between his fingers.
“Hm? Did you want something?”
“I—” Hongjoong eases your body back against the stone wall and hoists one of your legs around his hips. Your cunt is still tense and pulsing to the rhythm he spent all that time building. “If you don’t get inside me right the fuck now, Kim Hongjoong, so help me—”
He makes good on his promise to have you taste yourself on his lips. His tongue shoves its way into your mouth as well, eager to tangle with yours and push your arousal onto your own taste buds. You delight in the fervor with which he kisses you, and in the sound of his belt jingling because it means more pleasure is on the horizon. You feel a hand against your hip, and that’s the only real warning you get before he’s pushing the length of his dick into your pussy and burying himself to the hilt in you. You scramble to grab hold of him somehow. It’s a slight miracle that you don’t bite both his and your own tongues in the process because you cry out into his mouth. Your moan remains unbroken even when he pulls your mouths apart and rushes to cradle the back of your head before you whack it harshly against the concrete behind you. There’s not a second to catch your breath in Hongjoong’s mind; his other hand is busy at work, and he presses the pad of his thumb into your clit. He rubs once, twice, three times before you unravel on his cock.
“You’re so tight, fuck, if you could feel yourself, your cunt is so tight.” There are stars behind your eyelids, clearer than the ones in the sky, and Hongjoong begins to rock his hips up into yours as the weight of your orgasm barrels down on you. “You feel so good on me, pretty. Fuckin’ made for my cock, yeah?”
“Yeah, y-yes, yes, yes.” Your voice cracks at the tail end of your agreement. It turns into something more akin to a sob than a moan. Hongjoong’s pace is relentless in every regard. The lack of pause doesn’t let your body come totally undone or relax, still wound tight around your previous orgasm to the point where it feels like it won’t end.
“Keep taking it, lovely, I won’t be able to pull out with you squeezing around me like this.”
Whining, you drop your head to the side, chin coming all the way down to your shoulder. Hongjoong snakes his hand around to your neck and braces his index finger and thumb on either side of your jaw. Your head lolls in tune with the way he moves you and without resistance — every ounce of strength in your muscles has melted into goo in his hands. When he presses you back to the wall, your breath hitches. The sensation of his fingers at your neck has you feeling floaty and a bit detached from your body in the most pleasant way imaginable. His thrusts jerk your body enough to offer more pressure against your neck every so often but it’s not as persistent as you wish for it to be.
When you reach between your bodies and clasp your fingers around his wrist, Hongjoong seems to think that you want him to pull away because his grip loosens instantly.
“More,” you grit out, yanking his hand harder into the column of your neck. The steady rhythm he’s found falters momentarily for him to resituate his grip, but once he’s settled back into it, each thrust comes with a delightful headiness as your breath becomes shorter.
“’m close,” he announces. He shifts a hair to look down between your bodies and watches his length disappear into you a few more times before pulling his focus back up to your face with a groan. “Gonna cum in you, pretty, you’re still so tight.”
“Wanna cum with you, t-touch me again,” you pant, licking your lips between each phrase, “please.”
Despite his own shaky hands, Hongjoong reaches down to where his cock pumps in and out of you. He finds your clit with ease and rolls two fingers over it in a similar rhythm to his thrusts, pace only growing as he races towards his finish with you in tow. His motions fail as he orgasms, but the sudden feeling of his cock twitching inside your walls and pumping you full of hot cum pushes you over the edge with him. You almost don’t even feel it with all the sensations hitting you at once, and Hongjoong’s body falls against yours so harshly that your moan is positively unholy.
His hands keep roaming — tracing every inch of skin he can reach like he wants to commit it all to memory, and you simply let him do as he pleases because it feels good and it feels damn good to be wanted by this man. He pulls you towards a different section of the rooftop with your pants and underwear in hand. When he tugs you down to the messy pile of blankets that he and Mingi leave up here for particularly cold nights, you don’t even complain either. He lays himself down atop you, easing between your legs and caging you in with elbows pressed to concrete on either side of your head.
Hongjoong kisses you softly, and you smile against his lips. He finally settles down beside you after a few more exchanged kisses. His hat gets put aside with the other stray pieces of clothing — including his shirt that he’s finally decided to rid himself of far after the fact. The aftermath is peaceful, if a bit hazy as your brain still feels a jumbled mess of putty, and the stars above are bright.
“I’ll have someone pick you up in the morning to take you over to my men. The bar won’t be safe for a few weeks minimum. They can give you some cash to help cut your losses in the meantime too.”
“Okay,” you answer quietly. Beside you, his hand searches the blankets for your own. You let his fingers tangle with yours and squeeze until it hurts.
“Just don’t let Wooyoung try to convince you to buy into any scheme he might come up with.”
“Who?”
“Trust me, he’ll let you know who he is.” Hongjoong laughs at his own comment but falls into silence when he glances at you out of the corner of his eye.
“Come back for me please.”
Hongjoong is quiet beside you for several lingering seconds, then he leans across the empty space and kisses your temple.
“I’ll make sure of it.”
You believe him.
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please like & reblog this work and consider leaving a reply or sharing your thoughts in a reblog or ask!
this work belongs to caly / hongism (2023). do not copy, repost, or plagiarize in any way.
1K notes · View notes
fangirl-dot-com · 5 months
Text
Chapter 6 - Ok It’s Happening! Everyone Stay Calm!
This chapter is going to span Tuesday night into Wednesday night. Nothing really happens in between the initial post and family dinner, so I tried to add some things to fluff it up. You finally get to read a bit of reader-lore. The next chapter, “Family Dinner,” will be posted Wednesday night. Enjoy and don’t forget to comment to be added to the tag list :D 
Arthur had to leave early Monday morning. You were sad, but were thankful that he was able to come spend a few nights with you. You almost forgot why you were in London in the first place. 
Oh yeah, to become one of the best freaking F1 drivers there ever were. You could see the TikTok edits now. You hoped there would be at least one with an Olivia Rodrigo song in the background. Or maybe Taylor Swift? The possibilities were endless. 
You were able to drive the car a few more times in the span of Monday and today. You really felt like you were becoming more familiar with it. One of the last times, they put you into the RB-19, just to get a feel for it for Vegas. 
Speaking of Vegas, something popped up on your Instagram that you just had to share with Vito. 
“Hey Vito, can you find me someone to marry while I’m in Vegas?” you nonchalantly asked while the two of you were having breakfast. He nearly spit out his orange juice. 
“Excuse me?” he responded while wiping his mouth with the nice cloth napkin. The brunch place was very high end. You ended up getting pancakes though, while Vito got something you didn’t even want to try to pronounce. 
“Well, there’s this Formula 1 wedding chapel, and I thought, how cool would it be to get married there while it’s up? So, I thought I’d ask to see if you could find me someone.” 
Vito took a deep breath before massaging his brow. He was “this close” to quitting. But he would never do that to you. Instead, he said, “Kid. You cannot get married in Vegas.” 
He thought you would have put up more of a fight, but you just shrugged and stuffed your mouth full of another bite of pancake. He shook his head as he tried to take another sip of his drink. The breakfast went well after that. You didn’t try to bring it up, but somehow, you would find your way to this chapel. Even if you weren’t going to get married. 
As the two of you walked out of the building, you angled your body to Vito. “So, what do I have to do?” 
He looked at his phone, “So you have to approve your helmet. And then we have to take some pictures for your post tonight. Tomorrow we have a flight to catch that will take us to Vegas. After, you will get settled at the hotel and then eat dinner with the team.” 
“Geez, that seems like a lot doesn’t it?” You opened the driver door to your vehicle. Vito had said that it was your time to drive. You wanted to argue that every other waking moment was spent behind the wheel, but you knee that he wanted to be the passenger princess for once. He said that was not the case as he couldn’t handle you picking Country Girl by Luke Bryan one more time.
He said he even heard the song in his dreams. 
You thought that was total madness. How could someone get tired of Luke Bryan. Maybe Daniel would listen to it with you at some point, if the two of you got close enough. Vito had walked around the car, got in, and started to buckle. 
Using the button to start the car, the engine came to life. You carefully backed out of the parking space and pulled onto the road. Per the request of the Vito and Mitch, you were to return to RB to go over some last-minute paperwork and things of that nature. 
Since the drive was so familiar by now, the time seemed to fly by even faster. You knew what you were doing. It was crazy to think that just last week, you were winning your F2 championship with no future plans. And now you were pulling up to headquarters like it was just another Tuesday. 
Time was weird like that. 
At the building, you almost cried when you saw your helmet. You wanted to make a joke, but decided against it. You could do that later over the radio in free practice one. It was everything that your little F1-loving heart ever wanted. The white and silver had a great contrast. But your favorite part was the glitter. You tried it on and had a couple of pictures taken. You let them know which ones were your favorites. 
You later found yourself in a conference room going over last-minute legal things. Vito made sure that you knew what you were getting into with a multi-year contract and how much it would damage you if you were to break it. You were still 100 percent with it all. You also discussed what picture you wanted to use for their official statement. You picked one that had been taken after your first F2 win of the 2023 season. You sheepishly smiled when they pointed out the Mercedes logo, but you told them that it was there since you had won a sponsorship to help pay for everything. You had no loyalties to the other British team. 
“All right, I think that wraps things up. Any questions, comments, or concerns?” one of the lawyers asked as he packed his things up. 
With multiple shakings of heads, he bid farewell and left the room. 
Now that it was just you, Mitch, and Vito, you spun your chair to face the two of them. You felt like a villain out of a movie as you put your hands together.
“Mitch, did you bring the special thing that I asked for?” you said in a darker tone, wanting to feel mysterious. 
She rolled her eyes as she got up and walked to a clothing bag that was laying on the end of the table. She brought it back over and laid it over your lap. 
You unzipped the bag and stared at the item. It was a vintage Red Bull bomber jacket. Just the sight wanted to make you cry. 
You stood up and carefully put the jacket on. You turned towards Mitch and Vito. 
“How do I look?” you asked. Now you were getting shy. You might be loud with people you were comfortable with, but you always put people’s opinion of you over anything else. They both had comforting smiles. 
“I think you were born to wear that jacket kid,” Vito said, with almost tears in his eyes. 
“Same here Y/n. You truly belong with us,” Mitch said as she gave you a hug. You let a few tears fall when doing so. It had been long since you really felt accepted somewhere. 
With your parents, you constantly wanted their approval, but never got it. That drove you to be the best at everything. People always told you to quit in F4, but you slowly rose above them as you entered F3. There, people told you that you, a girl, did not belong in F3. You were only 15 at the time. 
You proved them wrong as you became the first female to join the ranks of F2 two years later. You spent 3 years fighting for your hard earned right to be there. It got easier with the help of friends, but you always wanted more. One more chance to prove yourself. And you got that with the F1 seat. 
“Could we take a few pictures for me to post later?” Mitch and Vito agreed. You three found a nice spot on a hidden balcony. It basically looked like you were on the sidewalk, but you wouldn’t take that risk. It was too close and you had people right where you wanted them. 
You had grabbed an iconic can of Red Bull on your way out and cracked it open to pose with it. It took a good 30 minutes for you to get the pose correctly. 
While going through those photos, you spoke up. 
“Did you know that my first kart had the Red Bull logo on it. I loved that thing, even if I crashed it multiple times.” You chuckled at the memories. 
“What goes around comes around,” Vito muttered as he went through the photos. 
“Reminds me of that Taylor Swift sound on Tik Tok. It’s been a long time coming.” 
Mitch gave a playful scoff, “You should use that as your caption.” You hadn’t thought of that! Mitch definitely thought that you wouldn’t, but the look on your face showed her that you really wanted to do it. She, once again, rolled her eyes at your antics. But, she herself was comforted by your easy-going personality. She had only known you for a couple of days, but you were becoming very dear to her. 
You were becoming very dear to everyone. Every worker was amazed at your talent. A few even compared you to Sebastian Vettel and their very own champion Max Verstappen. But Mitch wouldn’t tell you that in fear of scaring you off. It was a big thing to be compared to the two legends, but you didn’t need that pressure on you. You already had been through so much. Vito had let Mitch know before of what has happened with past race strategists. She never wanted to be like what you’ve had to deal with. 
You now were beginning to explain the entirety of why Taylor Swift was re-recording her albums in the first place. Your hands were pointing at invisible objects in the air while Vito just stood and listened. Mitch thought it would be hilarious to see you and Max discuss race tactics. 
There was the Maxsplaining and the Leclerifying. Now you would be Y/n-strating (illustrating but with your name in front). 
“And that is why we don’t like Scooter. We’re gonna come for his ankles before he can come for ours. Mother never told us to be nice to him,” you gestured as you finished your rant. Vito looked bored to death while Mitch was just smirking at the two of you. You wondered what she was thinking about. 
Oh well. She could read your mind but you couldn’t read hers. 
When it got dark, you and Vito headed back to hotel to pack before you were supposed to be at the hotel. Riggs, Lacy, Mitch, and other personnel would be flying out with you. There would be no commercial flight, instead there would be a private plane for everyone. You couldn’t wait, since this would be the first time to fly privately. 
There was really nothing different to it until you actually got on the plane. Security was the same and the private lounge area wasn’t much different than the ones you had already been to. There were fewer seats on the plane, but everyone fit comfortable. 
You were excited that you didn’t have to pay for WIFI on the plane to watch your TV shows. There were a couple of Brooklyn 99 episodes that you hadn’t seen yet. Once those were finished, you told yourself that you’d take a quick nap and wake up way before you landed. 
That was a lie. 
You practically slept the entire way there, and was only awoken by the plane landing. You were excited to be back in the states. You hadn’t been in years. Texas would always be your favorite state though, since you lived there for 5 years when you were in your teens. You had begged Arthur and Ollie to go with you once, but they declined and you ended up not going. You couldn’t wait to drive at COTA. 
The nap really helped as you weren’t exhausted when you got to the hotel. Vito told you though that you had time to sleep before you needed to wake up the next morning. But the nerves were getting to you. 
At 9 a.m. Red Bull would be posting the statement. Which reminded you to do the same. You inhaled sharply as you picked the pictures on your Instagram. You were able to find a picture of your old kart, and you definitely used Mitch’s suggestion for the caption. You tagged Red Bull before posting and turning off your phone. You could deal with everything tomorrow morning when you had gotten a good night’s sleep.  
Well, that good night’s sleep was way too short for your liking. Your alarm sounded way too loud and interrupted the nice dream that you were having. It was something about marrying some dude at the F1 chapel. You just couldn’t get it out of your mind. 
You took a shower to at least feel better. The staleness of the plane air clung to you throughout the night. Should you have showered after sending the world into a panic? Yes. But did you? No. Your phone might as well have combusted last night. Turning on the front screen, there were thousands upon thousands of notifications. You simply swiped left and deleted them all. 
Opening your Instagram, it was worse. Your face was everywhere. Happily, enough, almost everything was a positive outlook. Only a few bad ones stood out, but you knew better than to look. While scrolling, you were interrupted by a face time request from Ollie. You quickly picked up and were met with the sight of his face. With jaw dropped, he just stared at you. 
“Hello to you to?” 
You pulled the phone away from your face as he started screeching. You just listened as he ranted for another 10 minutes before he went silent. 
“You done?” you deadpanned. 
“Uh, yeah. I think so.” 
“Ok good.” You went on to tell him about everything that happened in the past week. He definitely whined when you told him that Arthur knew before he did. He demanded that you tell him next time. And you told him that you hoped that there wouldn’t be a next time. You were determined to stay with Red Bull for as long as possible. 
After the phone call, you kind of just chilled around the room all day. Dinner wasn’t until later and you had time to get ready. 
After watching episodes upon episodes, you saw that you needed to get ready. With your trusty playlist, cans of hair spray, your makeup, and your curling iron – you were ready for the battle that was looking perfect for dinner. 
Each curl had to be calculated, each face product must be weighed to the exact suggested amount. Did you do either? No. 
You just did it how you normally did, and somehow you got it done. You took a quick picture and posted it on your story. The dress you picked was black. A long slit showed just enough leg, while there was only one sleeve. You paired it with some gold heals. You only hoped it wasn’t too much, but you wanted to make a good impression. Vito had gotten the go ahead from Christian beforehand. The restaurant was supposed to be of the upmost hoity-toity-ness and you hoped you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself. 
With a knock on your door, you knew it was time to meet the family.  
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(Your story)
Tag List : @awekbachira @lightdragonrayne @leilanixx @angsthology @digitalizeduniqueness @topguncultleader @landosgirlxoxo @gods-menace @itsjustkhaos @thefandomswhre @alwaysboredsworld @vellicora @bintuabbas @sam-is-lost @empress-kimiko @assholeinatrenchcoat @kagatinkita @glitterquadricorn @zyonsay @tsukishimawhore @treehouse-mouse
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harmonysanreads · 25 days
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HARMONYYY i just finished the penacony quest and OH MY GOD. the emotional damage wtf... and the murderer 😕 i honestly don’t think anyone could’ve foreseen that
on another note, sunday really does have huge yandere potential !!! (i was swooning the entire time he was on screen im sorry.) he literally isn’t beating the allegations at all. even the other characters comment on how weird it is for him to casually keep a model of the golden hour, because what in the control freak 😭
he seems like he’d play dollhouse with darling. after all, in a place like that, every single aspect of it is under his thumb — literally. having that much control over your circumstances is a reassurance. oh, are the placeholder models crashing? don’t worry dear, he can fix the malfunctions. he can even make them speak more realistically for you. he can give anything to you, even change the layout of the place entirely if you’re bored of it. you want to get back to normal size? well, he can’t quite do that just yet, please understand..
or if he pulls that weird interrogation magic thing on them. darling who just lies through the entire thing, and he uses this to scare them about the death countdown while not mentioning the part that he has the power to really just cancel it in the end. though, the same trick won’t work on them twice. at least the process gets darling to become part of the family in the end.
not to mention the spies he has everywhere. stupid birds watching you in every corner…
idk i just want to hold him and shake him aggressively. out of love, of course.
- 🕯️
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When I tell you I've lost sleep over the thought of just how much more Sunday is probably capable of doing, nonnie.
If he has access to technology and power like this, which are all unrestricted for his personal use moreover, imagine the things he's hiding. And imagine farther the things he had to do to get to where he is today, another dash of spice to the mix. I went back to his scenes and did some thinking. The me-slandering-Sunday is obviously a joke but I really, really hope people just don't focus on the morally-gray and questionable aspects of him and completely disregard his other characteristics now.
If you think about things from his perspective, he really is just trying his best to keep the image of The Family. But the loss of probably the only person he trusted with his heart and the disregard to bring justice to that case from The Family's side, compelled him to put his agenda first (as he himself mentions that he allowed Aventurine to pull that stunt so that it'd lure Gallagher out). What we get from this is, while Sunday is an extremely dedicated member of their faction, he had to learn to be selfish in certain situations to save his and Robin's backs.
The desire to control usually comes from a feeling of helplessness. We can make some speculations based on the current information of why Sunday has these tendencies, I've also seen some people say he has OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) but, we can't be sure until his full lore drops. Another thing to note about Sunday is how lonely he probably is, especially at present. The Family is in chaos, the situation of Robin, external forces' traps, the Charmony festival's deadline and he doesn't even have one person he can sit down with and not question their motives. He really must want to rest just as much as the characters around him are suggesting.
So basically, Sunday is a multi-layered character, just like Aventurine. He's definitely a politician, is what I'll say. Even though he is a control freak whose motives are hard to guess, he's still that little boy fighting for his and Robin's shared dream inside.
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deadbeat-motel · 3 months
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ᗪᗰ!ᗩᑎGEᒪᗪᑌᔕT ᒪOᖇE ᗩᑎᗪ TᖇIᐯIᗩ
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Deadbeat Motel's Angel Dust Lore under the cut. (If you squint hard enough, you can see Vaggie and Charlie's rough design too.)
ᒪOᖇE
Angel Dust was never the best mafia member of his own family. He was too weak-hearted to deal with the types of people who made their home within the seedy world of crime. He was no good with taking a man's life nor was he any good with commanding the goons their family had, so his father had kept him trafficking drugs to be somewhat useful for the family. Angel Dust was happy about that, It was far from being in danger, and if he was careful enough, he would be able to have drugs from the stash he's supposed to be giving out to their clients.
One night, however, while high on PCP, a drug deal he and his brother were on had gone bad because their client finally got wise to Angel's stealing. A gunfight broke out killing men on both sides of the deal. AngelDust, while high on drugs, had killed someone in the middle of it, and he was still reeling from the shock of it when his high came down. His brother punched him in the face causing a black eye and told him how incredibly fucked they are because of what he's done. It was revealed that this drug deal was a way for their group to make peace with one another and killing those goons in that room had doomed the family to a Turf War they were not that prepared for. Going to his father to attempt to apologize had only gotten him killed in his father's rage.
AngelDust wakes up to Hell with a body he was surprised to like (despite his family being homophobic and possibly also misogynistic and transphobic). He's surprised to know how common and easy to find drugs are in this new place he's in but quickly finds out he's broke and unable to find a job because of how unused to his own body he is. His first few weeks in hell have been rough until he realizes he can utilize how this body works to his advantage. Many men and women lined up to want a piece of him and they paid good money too. Plus if they ever tried to hurt him, well this body showed him it's more than capable of keeping him safe. He actually did enjoy sex work more than his work as a former mafia member.
Everything went to shit when Valentino found him, he thought he was just another client who frequented him often and paid big money. When presented with a contract to work with him, he accepted since it looked as if the only thing he was asking for was to be his employee. However, as soon as he signed, hidden words started to reveal themselves on the paper. It turned out, he wanted more than what he was letting on. Val was a new Overlord and he's been slowly gaining the reputation that he has today and unfortunately Angel Dust had been duped by this demon. he just hadn't shown him his true colors back then to lower his guard around him.
Angel Dust has tried to fight Val before but nothing good came out of it. He wouldn't be able to do much about him if the contract was still in effect. He even lost the mandibles on his mouth because he had bitten Valentino reflexively one time. For 2-3 decades (might be subjected to change) he's had to deal with Val's abuse of him All optimism has dried out, and he's been living and coping with despair.
Angel Dust learns of the Motel and checks in mainly to get away from Val (He constantly moves places and doesn't feel safe in his previous apartment as Val has found him once again). He doesn't take the entire point of the motel seriously because he'll be gone within a month or two. After all, that's how often Val found him and sure enough, he did find him. Val starts talking like he owns the place, starts threatening everyone, and even attempts to control Valerie and Charlie when they confront him about what he's doing to Angel Dust. They of course are unaffected because of their angelic natures and Valerie absolutely thrashed the unliving shit out of Val. But before she can kill him, Val brings up the fact that if she kills him he will kill Angel Dust, taking him and the other hundred souls he has under his contract. With Angel Dust's and the other hundreds of souls' lives on the line, they had to concede and let him live, but not without warning him that if Angel Dust dies because of him, both women are going to make sure he begs for a second death.. This of course is not a big change for Angel Dust, but he's glad he can keep crashing at this motel knowing that Val won't dare come into this place if he wanted all his limbs attached to his body.
Angel Dust has become a permanent resident of the motel.
TᖇIᐯIᗩ:
Angel Dust frequented more LGBT-friendly speakeasies before he died (considering OG Angel Dust's family was homophobic iirc) and while he didn't participate in "pansy shows". He did want to join them.
Angel dust can produce webbing and uses it to slow down his pursuers. They've got a really strong grip on anything that touches it.
As a last resort, Angel Dust uses his webbing whips. They're non-lethal (At least I think so) since he mainly uses its sticky factor. They're good at disarming enemies who have guns from far away, especially since Angel Dust is creative with his uses of it.
Angel Dust used to have sharp teeth but had them forcibly flattened because Val was tired of the fact he's been nicked by those teeth of his multiple times.
The motel is actually the first place in a while he's stayed in for a year. Angel Dust has been able to make his room more comfortable for him and has his own stash of knick-knacks on display.
He is never seen front-facing. The view in front of Angel's face is treated like Phineas' front-facing view. Never allowed to be seen other than in smear frames.
A running joke for me is how everyone has no idea how a Spider's anatomy even works (I don't either).
Yeah, he'd still be shipped with Husk but I'm not having Husk call him a loser because my blood would boil, plus I'm changing their dynamic but I'll get into that when Husk is finished.
A big plot point for Angel Dust would be that he gets to kill Val with the aid of Valerie/Husk or the both of them and that while he'll be free of his abuser, it has screwed over his ticket out of hell in the eyes of heaven. However, it was able to spark a debate within Heaven's court... should the rules be so strict that they would punish a victim that finally fought back against his own abuser? (It's not that deep but it's a start at least rather than "You don't know what gets people into heaven?")
Currently unsure as to how Cherri Bomb would fit into his story but I might be able to figure it out later when I get to her redesign
I think that's all for now? This may be subjected to change at some point in time, but ask me anything about this version of AngelDust
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brailsthesmolgurl · 1 month
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Salvation
In another parallel universe, the legend was retold. The God of Sea and his bride has A heart so great that it holds the power to bring Lemuria back to its olden days glory. The bride however, is untouchable. If so, who is going to be salvaged?
Here comes the parallel universe ending! I know it was long awaited, but thank you for waiting patiently as all of my written stories are planned meticulously hence it takes up a LOT of time.
Read the start of this series: Damnation
Read the sequel of the Damnation: Retribution
Warnings: Angst, Spoilers for Rafayel Lore, Character Deaths, Gore and Blood (tbh its a common theme for this series already). A little bitty suggestive heh cause my hormones are raging for this man. Smol surprise at the end :)
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"Tomorrow marks the day." Rafayel's slender fingers ran through y/n's curls, a smile slowly stretched across her lips, her cheeks evidently turning rubescent under the moonlight's sheen. "Tomorrow is the day I shall bring you to visit Lemuria." The purple haired god laid next to his soon-to-be bride, on her bed, in her chambers. The thing he could do to her right here and right now were endless. And none of them involved any items of clothing. That was how much the young god was holding himself back.
The smile on her face never faded, as her small hands reached up to cup both sides of his cheeks, his face warm and soft to her touch. "I can't wait. Hearing all of those stories from you, no pictures nor drawings could possibly compare to the reality of seeing your kingdom with my own eyes." She said, eyeing Rafayel glistening under the moonlight, the shadow on his face does not cover up his ethereal looks. Rafayel leaned in closer to her, his breath mingled against her cheeks. "You know we should not kiss until tomorrow, right?"
Her reminder of the pre-wedding taboo made him grunted, his lips formed an immediate pout and he threw his head back, clearly frustrated. "I should be the one to ban such traditions next time." He grumbled, but calmed down to look at her when her hands cupped his cheeks again, thumbs smoothing over his chiselled jawline. "How could one possibly live with not kissing their bride the day before their wedding?"
His childlike remark made her giggled. "Your people had done it for ages, and I figured it would only be right if we were to go along with such customs. As I shall be the first mortal bride afterall. I do not wish to upset any of your merfolks." She raised her hand up, surrendering herself and Rafayel leaned forward to hug her tight within his arms. Laughters erupted from the both of them.
When they looked into each other's eyes, their laughters slowed down, mesmerised by one another's gaze. Y/n could barely believe that this very moment is happening to her. It felt like yesterday when she had rescued Rafayel from the sandy shores and released him back into the ocean after he had promised to return to her some day. Now, here they are, awaiting for a grand wedding tomorrow, an official bond to be tied between the God of the Sea and his mortal bride.
The once cherubic looking Rafayel had grown into the dashing young god he is today. With misty purple locks that are naturally wavy---although he constantly claimed that it was the sea water that turned it wavy. Eye colour a mixture of lilac purple and lapis blue, that could change colour depending on the lighting and his mood. A personality that not many can and would want to handle given his nonchalant-ness. Mixing in good looks and his non-chalant attitude, he is like walking trouble amongst mortals.
But she knew Rafayel better than anyone. She knows the way he talks, although condescending to some, she knows that he is not just a talker, but also a doer. He nags her over the smallest of things, be it her dress colour not matching her lip colour for the day or whatnot; she knows that he cares for everything, even for the smallest of details. He yaps like he knows what he wants and gives off the vibe of an independent individual, but deep down, he is just a needy young man, seeking for her constant comfort, validation, love and affection.
These are just some of the small characteristics of Rafayel that made her fall for him even more. She watched as Rafayel inched in, his lips aligned with hers. But before she got to utter a word, he quickly moved his lip upwards and pressed a big kiss onto her forehead. "If I could not kiss your lips, I would just have to settle for kisses on your forehead and cheeks then." He teased her and continued barraging her face with kisses. Their laughters for the night were endless.
Rafayel sat at the edge of her window sill, turning around to watch her as she was fast asleep, her brunette hair messily tousled all over the bed, but she looked picturesque, with the silvery moonlight painted across parts of her face and the steady breathing of her chest made her a living art in Rafayel's eyes. "I shall see you later, my beloved bride." Not wanting to wake her in her slumber, he dived into the water below.
...
"Your highness! Stop running so quickly!" The maid, Natasha cried out, struggling to keep up with the bride's quick feet. "Your dress might get dirty and unkempt! And I did not receive any other gowns from them!" Sadly, the maid was the only one who gave her blessing to y/n's marriage. The king and queen could care less as long as Rafayel kept their pockets loaded with gold.
"Come on Natasha, lessen the apprehension, would you?" The bride slowed down her footsteps and turned to flash her maid a wide smile. "Today is a big day after all and I know, everything is going to be alright." Seeing the bride's grin, Natasha sighed in defeat and trotted behind the bride, exhausted but still anticipating to watch the union ceremony.
When they arrived near the sea stacks, Natasha handed her a red velvet box. Upon opening the latch, the box opened to reveal a veil, one woven from silk that could only be harvested from sea anemones that grow in the far West, the ones that only glow during the winter times. The veil was translucent, with an iridescence of silver glow whenever the light refracted off of its material. The crown that goes around her head is made out of pearls that were harvested from oysters that could only be found in the southern region of the seas. Collected and crushed by the merfolks and infused with a rare blue gem that only Lemurians possessed to create the crown for the veil.
The veil shorts of nothing extravagant, as expected of the God of Sea's taste. Rafayel ensured that this veil was done 6 months prior to the wedding as he does not appreciate any mishaps especially when it is related to his bride. Y/n took the veil out of the box and she carefully placed it on top of her head, Natasha going behind her to dust off the excess sand off of the back of the wedding gown. She also took the time to adjust the veil behind y/n's head, wanting to make sure everything is in place before the ceremony begins.
"It has to be perfect. Perfect." She remembered the way Rafayel nodded his head towards her, spelling the word PERFECT to her just so she could understand him. But Natasha caught him the moment he said the first sentence. Although she just waved him off that time, she knew that on the day of the wedding, Rafayel is the last person she would want to upset. Who knows what would happen to her if she made him upset. The thought itself sent a shudder down her spine.
"How do I look?" Y/n turned to face Natasha and the maid's heartwarming gaze gave her just the answer she needed to hear indirectly. "I can't wait for this Natasha." She held onto the maid's hands tightly. Horns started blaring loudly and the two women looked towards the sea stacks together. The sun rise made the sea blended in with the sands on the shore, the saturated warm glow casted upon the surface of the waters a sight to behold indeed.
Trumpets and choirs joined in with the blaring of the horns and y/n knew it was time for her to present herself walking towards the sea stacks. "Your Highness, your bouquet. Don't forget it." The maid shoved a bouquet of flame lilies and the bride muttered a thanks, hastily holding onto the bouquet before she stepped out from the backs of the huge rock.
The appearance of the bride made the merfolks gasped in awe, the off-shoulder wedding dress was made out of fine silk, and it did a great job in outlining her bodyline and curves perfectly. Her dress cut off at the mid of her thighs, but a big ribbon was attached to her right hip, aiding in the aesthetic and transitional fabric from fine silk to a chiffon tail. The tail of the dress was completely see through, with droplets of diamonds sewn on it. The bride glowed under the ray of the sun and nobody could have dreamed of a better start to a wedding.
Rafayel emerged from the waters, in his mundane form of course, riding on top of two orcas and he was delivered right onto the top of the sea stacks. His clumsy stumble made her giggled, hands going up to cover her mouth. Rafayel donned a full white suit, with a swallow tail at the back of his tuxedo, his hair neatly styled, probably with the help of his people. And the left side of his pocket peeked a corsage with flame lilies, same as the ones she has as a bouquet in her hands.
Upon seeing his bride, Rafayel was enthralled at her beauty, his jaw dropping slightly ajar before one of the merman spit water at him thus he only managed to snap himself back to reality, glaring at the merman who spat at him as he reached up to wipe the stain off of his sleeves. Not like the water did anything to his outfit either, but he had to be sure of it. It is their big day after all.
"Ain't this my bride." Rafayel said confidently when he walked to the edge of the sea stacks, reaching out his hand to her, for her to take so he could guide her onto the sea stacks. "Careful, I do not wish for my bride to be unable to walk before the grand night tonight, yeah?" His wink made her face flushed instantly and she smacked his arm playfully.
Standing next to him, she felt like everything was set in stone for her finally. She got to marry the one that she had always been in love with and she will be one of the very first mortals to visit this forbidden land under the waters. "Here, we rejoice in each other's company. One of merfolk and the other of mortal." Amund, Rafayel's trusty friend took the opportunity to solemnize the wedding.
"This moment shall mark the first of its kind in mortal and merfolk's history. A reunion to be witnessed between the God of the Sea, Rafayel, and his bride, a mortal. y/n. Shall there be any objections towards this blessed reunion..." Amund trailed off, eyes scanning the crowd, both in the waters and the only human on land before he continued. "You shall not be entertained." His sentence took everyone by surprise and everyone shared an understanding laughter. "Hence, Rafayel, would you take y/n to be your beloved wife? Through all suffrage, illness and happiness?"
Rafayel nodded, facing her and confidently saying. "I will always say yes to that. For I will love you for ages to come."
"How about you y/n, would you accept the God of the Sea, Rafayel's intentions of having to love you through all?" You immediately nodded and Amund shouted. "This reunion is blessed, you may kiss the bride!" Rafayel's lip immediately pressed against his bride's, the kiss shared between the two erupted a huge reaction from the crowd. Claps and whistlings and shoutings could be heard from all directions. The choir then resumed its melody when Rafayel pulled back from her lips. "Y/N?" His smile faltered as he watched his bride's irises had turned into a shade of blood red, matching the same colour of the liquid that was oozing out of his chest, staining his white suit into crimson red.
...
Y/N jolted awake in her own bed, beads of sweat littered all across her face. Running her palms across her face, surprised that her face is cold to her touch despite the current season is far from winter. Reaching over to her bedside drawer, she fetched her goblet and drank the contents of it.
A couple of knocks could be heard from her oak door. "Come in." The door slowly opened to reveal one of the maids, Clarrice. The red head walked in, silver tray in her hand, ready to be served to the princess. She bowed partially as a sign of respect, then placed the tray by the highness' study table before she walked over to pull open the heavy drapes of the curtains to reveal the warm sun rays shining in from the windows.
"It seems like your highness has chosen to sleep in today, hence I had drawn your curtains whilst you were in deep slumber." Clarrice smiled, her pink thin lips a contrast to her pale complexion, brown freckles strewn like constellations on her face. Y/N sat on the bed, eyebrows knitted together, not being able to figure out why Natasha is not greeting her as per usual. Given Natasha was the maid that was specifically assigned to care for the princess.
"Have you seen Natasha anywhere?" The princess questioned, taking another sip out of the goblet in her hand. Milk cold to the inside of her mouth, when the princess had always been accustomed to warm milk in the morning.
"Your highness, Natasha was nowhere to be found within her chambers at dawn." When the maid replied, she watched the princess' eyes narrowed and nervously added on. "It seems like Natasha had left the palace in a hurry. All of her items remained within her chambers, including her uniform. All that was missing was her common outfit. She could have left for the farmers market?" The hesitation in the maid's tone does not sit right with y/n.
"You may head on with your day now. Thank you." The princess spoke promptly and the maid hurried out of the chambers. Placing the goblet back onto the bedside drawer, y/n started retracing the dream she had earlier on. All she remembered from her memory was her being at a beach...the beach near the sea stacks!
The princess catapulted herself off of the bed, still in her outfit. Her outfit. She did not noticed the outfit she had on while she was in bed. She is wearing a gown. Specifically a fancy one, one would wear for a wedding. Wedding ceremony. Natasha. Rafayel. When the pieces started to piece together, so did her heart rate quickened. Raising her hands to her vision, she caught sight of splatters of crusted liquid on her palms, a brownish shade with specks of what seems to be blue fairy dust.
Realisation hit her with a truck and she grabbed the rope and tossed it out of her window, sliding down it as fast her hands would allow her to, the pain of the rope burn unregistered into her senses. Guards at this hour were most likely deployed to their stations within the towers hence allowing her escape all the more easier. Once her feet touched the ground, she ran with her bare feet and went out through the gardens behind the palace that leads her straight towards the seas.
Her bare feet carried her past the sandy shores, the strong currents of the sea breeze accompanying her speed. Coming across the huge rock that leads towards the sea stacks, she slowed down her footsteps, seeing bloody imprints on the sand, foot prints that belong to a human.
When she came to the sea stacks, the scene in front of her made her heart stopped beating for a good while. There laid Natasha, on the shore, with a pool of red replacing her shadow. Some parts of her blood on the shore were darkened, a natural occurrence of oxidation of the bodily fluids. The princess screamed for her maid, her friend, and ran towards her, tears uncontrollably rushed down her cheeks. She turned the maid over, only to find the young maiden was covered in stab wounds all across her torso. "Who did this to you?!" She shouted in agony, pulling the deceased into her arms as she cried, while cradling her friend.
"Y/N...." A voice cut through her cries and the nightmare does not end. "Y/N..." Just when she thought she had to suffer losing Natasha, she was met with the image of the God of the Sea, her beloved husband, her forever lover, laid on the sea stacks, blood emitting from the side of his mouth, his eyes losing their usual glow as he tried to call out to her. "RAFAYEL!" The princess cried, laying her friend down carefully onto the sand before she rushed over to Rafayel's side, stumbling her way up the sea stacks and having barnacles cutting into her skin. Yet again, her physical pain were not registered to her senses as of this moment. "RAFAYEL!" Her cries were unstoppable now, eyes turning bloodshot as she pulled her lover into her arms. "What happened?! I will go and get help..."
As she wanted to stand up to leave, Rafayel grabbed ahold of her hand and she regained the memory of the actual cause behind the happening.
...
The vision was murky but she could clearly hear a conversation taken place between two individuals. It seemed to take place within a cave, a female figure, with a singular eel-like tail and a merman, were having a talk. "If she remains untouchable, your kind shall perish." The feminine voice spoke, long, crooked fingers holding onto a round, translucent ball with spikes on it. She seemed to be studying the ball as she spoke. "Eradicating either one might be beneficial for you, as long as the heart is willing to be given."
"Does this mean I have to kill off the God? With my own hands?" The merman spoke, hesitation laced in his voice.
"Do not fret." The woman chanted a spell and a blue pearl appeared within her fingertips. "The mighty gem of Lemurians right? Infuse this with the crown that you would be making for her and the spell shall happen upon their kiss of rejoice, as husband and wife." She handed the blue pearl to the merman and added. "At least now, you won't get your hands dirty."
The merman kept the pearl in his pouch then placed a huge woven basket in front of the woman, a compensation of sorts for her 'service'. The merman turned to exit the caves and y/n gasped when she realised that the merman was Amund.
Her vision then flashed forward towards the moment when she wore the veil. Upon kissing Rafayel, she immediately got possesed by an unknown force, but an entity of evil origins. A dagger was summoned into her hands out of thin air and she stabbed Rafayel right in the heart with it. Y/n screamed out, but her voice was muted, playing the role of a bystander as the vision continued unfolding itself. The God of the Sea was taken aback as he had never thought he would be killed by his very own sworn lover.
His eyes looked into hers. Pupils blown out of the usual proportion before he spat out blood, splatters of it hitting her wedding gown and her face, but the possessed bride was unfazed. Merfolks were horrified as they hurriedly scattered into the seas. For an entity so evil that dares to challenge the God of the Sea, the merfolks know that they are powerless against this possessed individual, be it a mundane. So they chose to flee, hoping that the warrior amongst them, the longest friend of Rafayel's, would come to the rescue.
But Amund just stood by the shore, now in his human form, as he watched the blatant massacre happening right in front of him. A small smirk creeped up onto his face when he knew right then and there, the future of his people are secured. The foregone of a God shall mean one or two of the foretold endings. The princess willingly sacrifices herself to save Lemuria as she knew how much Lemurians mean to Rafayel. Or Amund shall dig the heart out of her if she chooses to be selfish. All with the end goal of him being viewed as the hero, salvaging Lemuria from its end days.
...
The vision ended, with y/n in shock, eyes staring blankly at Rafayel's body in her arms. The God of Sea finally letting his tears run astray, flowing down his cold and blanched face when his bride slowly came to her own realisation. The young god had once told his bride about the specialty of her heart, for he had given half of his heart to her when they made a promise during their first meet.
That moment, Rafayel summmoned a small blue fish within his palms, stating that blue fishes are emissaries of the sea, but he lied partially, knowing the moment she wanted to release him back into the ocean, he had fell in love with her and was sure that she will be the one. Hence, a bonding vow was made without her knowledge, and part of his heart was given to her as a contribution of his love.
The princess turned out to be the bait, the bait to kill Rafayel when he least expected it, just so Amund could gain the heart of either the God or the bride and to return glory to Lemuria. But Rafayel, although wanted to marry a mundane, had never once thought of abandoning his kind. His plan was to bring her to live with him within Lemuria, and with both of their hearts within the vicinity of one another, it could restore glory to Lemuria and no bloodshed would take place. And obviously, this plan was only known to the God of Sea himself. As a God only does what is best for his people and his actions shall reap what he sows.
"Im sorry!" Y/N's lips are only wired to speak these two words, body shaking and voice hoarse, mentally and physically pained, watching the dying God in front of her eyes. "I can't do this without you, Rafayel." Her hands cupped his cheeks, his blood painting her palms in red. "Please don't leave me..." She continued begging. "I could never forgive myself...Please don't go...."
"I am here...I will always be here..." The bride's cries would not stop, eyes avoiding his as she knew that he was stating the opposite of what he actually meant. Until her eyes landed on the dagger that was laid beside Rafayel. The same dagger that she had used to stab Rafayel in his heart, and the same dagger that Amund had used to kill Natasha as to eliminate any witnesses. Rafayel's eyes caught on eventually, but with him on the verge of death, he was physically unable to stop her.
He watched his bride, with eyes widened in terror while choking onto his own blood, trying to form words. "I love you." Were her last words before she stabbed herself with the dagger, right into her chest as well, where his and her heart lies. What comes afterwards was her choking and simultaneously spitting blood right out of her mouth, a sign of her haemorrhaging.
If nobody could take his heart, she shall not give up hers as well. A smile of relieve dawned on her face, the rosiness of her cheeks gradually fading as crimson tears replaced the redness of her cheeks. For she is a mundane, she could not hold on any longer like how Rafayel did, as it takes a while for a God to be fully bled dry.
Her whole body fell limply, like a puppet torn from its strings, and her face landed right in front of Rafayel, forehead touching his. The last breath the God of Sea took, was surrounded by the sounds of the clashing waves, basked within the warmth of the sunrise, his lifeless eyes stayed open, tear streaks are the only colours apparent on his pale face, just like his bride's.
...
Hundreds of years had passed. Linkon city's renowned museum held a grand exhibition, displaying all there is for one to know about the hidden city Lemuria, and its people, Lemurians. The exhibition featured paintings, artworks, artifacts and even 'theoretically-accurate' skeletal structures of the Lemurians. As this exhibition, does run on nothing factual but relying heavily on theories and legends arising from sea explorers.
Y/n held an information pamphlet in her hand, browsing the exhibition before she stopped at one of the large paintings with the title 'God of the Sea'. The painting featured a merman, a tail with two fins for the bottom half of his torso, while the upper is made of a man. Her eyes glanced over at the God of the Sea's face, a fish head that looked all too similar to a sardine fish.
"Don't you think this artwork is suspicious?" A voice travelled from beside her, the tone of the sentence laced with disgust. "In fact, I think this whole exhibition is a total scam." Y/n turned her head to face the source of the voice. A towering young man stood next to her, wearing a white V-neckline shirt and paired with a pair of black slacks and black dress shoes, his midriff secured with a wide belt. "What do you say?" He turned his head to face her, his dusky purple hair matching the shade of his purplish-pinkish-bluish eyes. A smile evidently plastered on his handsome features.
"Who are you to say that?" Y/n crossed her arms across her chest, raising her eyebrows.
"The name's Rafayel." He confidently spoke, eyes glinting with amusement. "Anyways, mind grabbing a cup of coffee with me?"
... DUN DUN DUN!
And this shall officially mark the end for the pain! The story although still had mentions of angst and still caused some evident damage to your hearts, but I made sure I shall give you guys a good ending okay! Do not confuse this timeline with Damnation and Retribution as those are coexisting with this current timeline. SO yes! If you paid enough attention the details, the sea stacks... the sea witch blah blah..... IT IS ALL INDIRECTLY CONNECTED (depending on how you piece it based on your understanding). But yes, my story is written in this specific manner because I purposely wanted the worlds to be connected!
I really really hope you guys had enjoyed this series as I shall be writing more series as such in the future, either with Zayne or Xavier so please stay tuned for that!
If you could, drop me comments on what you think about this story as well! Even if it hurts you, makes you wanna smack yourself (pls dont do that), or whether it leaves you unfazed, I am nosy and I wanna know how this series has affected you mentally! Check out my other works as well on my page!
Wardrobe Malfunction ft LNDS boys
You forgetting a date with the boys *gasps in horror*!
Thank you for reading this series of mine. LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCHIES, MUACKS <3
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padfootdaredmetoo · 10 months
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Hey, could you maybe write something with Tommy where the girl he likes is a bit of a party girl? How would be react to her wild behaviour? 🥂
Hey Anon,
I LOVE this idea! Thank you for sending it in! Hope you enjoy it!
Warnings: heavy drinking, fluff, murder, all the good stuff
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He sat there watching her dance recounting all the times he’d been black-out drunk. None of them resulted in him dancing like a whore in public. Or laughing so loud it carried over the music. 
He didn't understand how the same woman that had single-handedly got him out of a bind with not only another crime family but also the police, was the same woman here dancing on a table. 
Just hours previous to the celebration she had shot a man and now she was here dancing like she always did. 
The club was dark but the pink dress she wore would glow even with the lights out. Her hair was messed up and somehow looked even better that way. 
When she got like this he wondered somewhere in the back of his mind if she was worth pursuing. Parties were her thing. He’d met her as an event coordinator and while she complained about how boring his events were they had got along very well. 
Too well. 
She was always bombarded with men offering her drinks, expensive trips, and houses in tropical lands, and yet she always came back to him. She wanted to be by his side even in the cold British rain. 
She danced until the song stopped then let out a loud squeal when Esme poured more champagne into her mouth. 
“WE WONNNNN” She called out with her bejeweled fist in the air. Everyone erupted into loud cheers around her. 
Getting into clubs to celebrate wasn't an issue for a Shelby, but she had an even easier time. She once got dared to leap off a loft railing onto a chandelier. Not only was it official lore woven into the fabric of London, the owner just shook his head and laughed when she did it. 
She was a friend, valuable business partner, excellent lover, but could she be a wife? His stomach twisted at the thought of being with someone else, that was a feeling he hadn’t felt since Greta. A frown fell on his face. 
Would that be something she wanted? He looked for her again dancing and singing her heart out. Would she feel trapped? 
The night wrapped up and she crawled across the backseat of the cab. She slumped against him and smiled up at him brightly. 
“I saved you today.” She slurred happily.
“Yes, you did.” He answered with the slightest bit of a smile on his lips. 
“You owe me.” She said bringing a well-manicured finger up to push his nose.
“Is that so” He grabbed her jaw gently keeping her face tilted up towards him. Her eyes flared and he didn't know what he would do without her. Even if she wasn't incredible at her job, and networking, even if she was just a party girl, he wouldn't want to be with anyone else. “How can I make it up to you?” 
“Stay with me?” There was a deep sadness in her eyes that took Tommy by surprise. 
“That’s the plan.” He whispered.
“Stay with me forever?” She clarified and he smiled. 
“Forever.” He kissed the top of her head and handed her the box that had been on fire since he started carrying it weeks ago. He felt like he shouldn't give it to her when she was drunk. It should be some grand gesture, a proper event with people around. That’s what she would want, but he felt like it was the moment. 
Her eyes went wide. 
“SHUT UP” She took the box and gave him one last look before opening it. 
“Would you -” 
“YES -” She let out another squeal waving her hands animatedly. After lots of hugging and screaming she rolled down the window to shout at the people on the street.
“I”M GETTING MARRIED!!!!!!” She pointed to her finger and laughed as random people waved and cheered for her. 
Tommy just leaned back into his seat and enjoyed the pure joy that radiated off of his soon-to-be wife. After shouting at a few more people when stopped at red lights she rolled the window up and climbed onto his lap. 
She pressed her lips onto his and they enjoyed the rest of the ride back to their London apartment.
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huevobuevo · 5 months
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ive fuckingggg HAD IT . i am going to talk about gegg qsmp because idk why but charlie slimecicle made one of the best representations of age regression ive seen in media and i am NOT joking.
so i dont rlly post alot about the qsmp on my blog, thus i wouldn't be surprised if this post goes unnoticed or ignored by a vast majority of my friends & followers. for those of you who ARE reading this with no prior experience with the QSMP lemme just quickly summarize some much needed background knowledge.
(Quackity Voice) The QSMP Is The Worlds First Multi-lingual Minecraft Server; it hosts a wide variety of twitch streamers who speak English, Spanish, Portuguese, and French. the beginning plotline of the server (which is where Gegg came into existence) follows the various players as they are grouped into pairs to care for a dragon egg. The main ones that will be talked about today are Tilin, Quackity's egg, and Juanaflippa, Slimecicle & ElMariana's egg. The eggs are, of course, played by anonymous admins, who have given these eggs their own unique personalitys despite only communicating through signs and emotes. The players have quickly imprinted on their respective eggs, as expected, and have gone on to view these eggs as their own children. The rules were simple - each egg had two lives and two lives ONLY. each day the eggs have tasks for the streamers to complete ON STREAM or else the egg could die of starvation & neglect (points at Trump, Maximus & DanTDM's egg).
i will be referring to Slimecicles character in the QSMP as Charlie or Slime for better coherency. from now on i will be referring to the characters, not the streamers.
Slimecicle and Mariana were not the best parents to Juanaflippa, but it was clear that they truly and deeply cared for their daughter. They supported her transition and, especially in Slimes case, did everything they could to make sure their daughter was safe. Juanaflippa had lost her second life due to an accident, which caused Slime to loose his shit and go on a murderous rampage to try and get the literal Minecraft Jesus Christ of Nazareth to come back and revive his daughter (she came back after a court case. long story.)
Basically Juanaflippa was loved, and she loved her parents back- but there was someone else she cared for the most in the whole wide world
Tilin, who Slime offered to take care of once her father had to log off game. There was another accident, and Tilin was caught in the crossfire between Charlie and a few mobs at night. She was on her second life, meaning that Charlie had officially ended his daughters best friend right infront of her eyes. Distraught and ashamed, Charlie ran off into self-isolation and left Juanaflippa in the care of Mariana and their friend Roier. During his "Eggxile" while he was trying to find a way to bring back Tilin, Charlie learnt that Mariana killed Juanaflippa AGAIN. Instead of going on another tirade Charlie just lost it.
He's now carrying the deaths of two children on his mind, isolating himself from what little friends he had on the main island. During his initial stay on the island there were only English and Spanish players, but when the French and Brazilian players arrived he still spent a majority of his time in isolation. Charlie wasn't apart of a good chunk of the main island lore for a long, long time, and pretty soon it began to feel like he was completely, and utterly, alone. He attended a wedding and a few parties, but it was visible how outcasted he was from all the new events and connections. He had regular breakdowns and pretty soon began to believe that Juanaflippa wasn't dead, she was just... somewhere else. He was gonna get her back. He did it once, he'll do it again. Fuck, he couldn't even bring himself to attend her own funeral, and even when he was allowed one final goodbye with his dead daughter Charlie still refused to accept the fact that Juanaflippa was never gonna come back home. He built a campfire on the beach of his Eggxile house with three chairs- one for him, one for his wife (who hadn't logged on in months), and one for Flippa.
TL;DR q!slime is going the fuck through it.
Later on Quackity decided to get Charlie in on a plan to try and steal from other peoples houses. They both lost their families, so it seemed only fair to Quackity that they ruin other people's lives as well. Basically Charlie had to pretend to be Quackity's NEW egg so that he can get close with the other eggs and fuck shit up.
Charlie liked it. Charlie... REALLY liked it, actually. His egg name was Gegg, and without knowing it he began to age regress.
Im calling Gegg a form of Age Regression because not only is Charlie mentally AND physically becoming a child, but through Gegg Charlie is allowed the freedom to escape his grief and explore what it means to be a "child" who was loved unconditionally. On the last Gegg stream Slime referred to the little goopy guy as something that lives inside of him. Gegg takes over him and he just looses himself in the act. He's not just playing a character called Gegg, he IS Gegg.
In the very first stream as Gegg he expressed his desire to learn what having a family was like- a common reason most people have for regressing. When "regressed" to this state Charlie/Gegg is constantly acting as a young child and actually enjoys it! He LOVED being Gegg! Even if it got too far in the end, Gegg was allowed to be open about his wants & emotions. Charlie was pushed back into the lives of the other players and fully reconnected with several people again for the first time since his self-imposed isolation. He gained new friends, too, once Gegg was introduced to the Brazilian and French players.
In turn the players never made any effort to expose Charlie's regression. while at the beginning there was some distrust & confusion over Charlie's sudden egg act it never went farther then a few subtle jokes at Geggs "true" identity (commenting on his backflips, which is something Charlie was known for). Aside from Wilbur, everybody treated Gegg as any other egg-child. He was cared for, his tasks would be completed on occasion, and the French+Brazilian players ESPECIALLY loved him! They supported Charlie's regression since at this point they began to realize how much shit he has been through since the deaths of Tilin and Flippa. Not only that, but the eggs as well played along with Gegg's coping mechanism; Leonarda (FoolishGamers + Vegetta777's egg) was one of the first to try and adopt Gegg as their own baby, while Chayanne (Philza+MissaSinfonia's egg) & Tallulah (Wilbur Soot's egg) acted as his "Geggsiblings" (even though Tallulah sorta got a bit rude to him during their second encounter, im guessing due to a new admin who wasn't around during Tallulah & Gegg's first interaction),
Infact, one of the best scenes of the Gegg Arc was during an interaction between Gegg & Bobby. Bobby was Roier & JaidenAnimation's egg, and he was also close to Juanaflippa & Tilin. The two kids talked through signs, where Bobby confessed that he held a grudge against Slime for what he did. Gegg said that he had every right to be upset, the poor boy had lost two of his closest friends after all. But then Bobby did something that shocked Charlie- he forgave him. he told Gegg to tell that "green guy" that he shouldn't be hard on himself anymore, both of them needed to move on already. Not only was Bobby a child, but he was one of the main eggs Quackity wanted Gegg to kill off first. Bobby was the reason why Gegg existed, the reason why Charlie was given the chance to heal from his trauma, and now he is telling Charlie to his face that its ok to forgive himself for the deaths of Tilin and Flippa.
Bobby knows who Gegg is, everybody does, which is why they treat Gegg with the same amount of love that every other egg gets.
Age Regression has frequently been misunderstood, and very rarely does it get the proper representation that it deserves. It is a very "taboo" form of coping, which is unfortunate due to how common it actually is. Most people feel uncomfortable with the image of grown adults acting as toddlers in diapers, and lump it together with the whole Age Play/DDLG ordeal- yet they fail to take into account what age regressors are ACTUALLY like. while it is something that just about anyone can do, the type of regression I will be talking about stems from people who seek refuge from traumatic events usually in their childhood. It can be voluntary or involuntary, and is a way for people to explore & reevaluate what it means to be a child. it is just that- a trauma response, one that im sure many of you participate in but are too scared to discuss it due to the stigma around it. Children who have experienced abuse regress, Teenagers who struggle with mental health regress, Adults with severe PTSD regress, and yet it is such a misunderstood part of the healing process that is practically unaccounted for in media. There is little to nothing on age regression representation that delivers it in a respectful, honest manner, due to this stigma, which only serves to push it further into the shadows of mental health discourse.
So to see age regression be used on a fucking minecraft server of all places in such a healthy light is so refreshing to see. While ironic at first, Charlie showcased age regression as something that shouldn't be shunned. It actively aided him through a dark period in his life and showed that he deserves a second chance. After Gegg canonically "died" Charlie returned to the island for his birthday and was finally ready to move on from Flippa & Tilins death (and then, yakno, the whole Codeflippa Arc happened)
TL;DR #2 Charlie Slimecicle's Character In The QSMP Age Regresses As A Way To Cope From The Deaths Of Two Eggs & Oh My God It Was Actually Really Fucking Emotional
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dreamofjoys · 1 year
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— c/w: Spoilers for Honkai star rail main story (yes I grinded my ass for the lore) — a/n: I can’t do this anym fuck I’m drooling over Jingyuan… I tried not to make it nsfw…..
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Husband!Jingyuan who is always so busy with his duty as a general. The paperwork that are piled up on his desk seems never ending, contributing headaches to him.
Husband!Jingyuan who is always glad when you visit him during work, passing him your homemade food before kissing him goodbye and wishing him all the best.
Husband!Jingyuan who pouts when you wanna leave him. Why not just stay in his office hm? He can call his aide to bring in some snacks for the both of you. Just accompany him please?
Husband!Jingyuan who smiles so wide and pulls you in to a tight hug when you agree to accompany him in his office today. After all, it’s your off day today, what’s the harm in spending time with your husband who is always so busy?you rarely get to see him other than when he comes back home - but he’s always away …
Husband!Jingyuan who immediately opens up your homemade packed box, munching down on the goodies that you made while you slap on his arm lightly, telling him to eat slowly and not to choke on the food. You can always make more for him, so there’s no need to worry. His heart tugs at your words, hand reaching out to sit you on his lap as he feeds you some of the food. He can’t let his wife starve too, right?
Husband!Jingyuan who lets you sit on his lap all day while he sorts through his paperwork. You would occasionally whine and say that your ass hurt from sitting down so much but he just chuckles and use that puppy dog eyes to get you to stay.
Husband!Jingyuan who has a gentle smile on his face as he looks down at you, his partner, quietly snoozing away in his arms. He may be the one doing all the work, but you must have been tired from all the travelling and waking up early to prepare the meal for him. He decides to call it a day, draping a jacket over your form before lifting you up in bridal style and carrying you back home. Many people in the XianZhou knows about the relationship between the both of you. They could only stare and gossip in awe as they watch their dutiful general taking care of his partner.
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feyascorner · 4 months
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NO BECAUSE I NEED TO TALK ABOUT ASCENDED ASTARION FOR A SECOND
I feel a lot of people think he just lost his soul when he went through with the ascension (myself included) but replaying for the third time (this time w/o rushing lol), it’s more obvious that he’s still him.
Of course, there’s a very obvious difference between spawn astarion and ascendant astarion in his dialogue, especially if you romance him. Ascendant astarion, in the state that he is immediately after ascension, is absolutely not a healthy representation of what a relationship should look like and should not be desired. Obviously some people think he’s hot but for the sake of the argument just go along w me here.
Regardless I don’t think the ascension changed him THAT much as a person. In fact I’d argue that NOT ascending changes him more (for the better). Ascending just made parts of him (the less forgiving traits) that much more prominent.
Looking back on Act 1 during the tiefling celebration (assuming you don’t side w the goblins), he clearly says he doesn’t revel in being a hero. And throughout the game he makes it very clear he’s willing to be selfish because he hasn’t been allowed to be selfish for the past 200 years.
And this selfishness manifests into him wanting power so he won’t face the same environment again. He’s always wanted power, and if he chooses not to ascend, he’s letting go of that part of himself. Not only does he go against what he’s believed for most of his life as a spawn, but accepts that being a spawn is okay with him. If he chooses to ascend, he’s amplifying that power hungry aspect of himself, putting act1/2 astarion’s personality in the basement, but he’s still there.
This applies to how possessive he is of Tav after the ascension too. He’s always been possessive, even if he doesn’t make it alarmingly obvious. Though rather than possessive I’d describe it more as a fear of being abandoned in act 1/2.
For example, when you drop the Githyanki Crèche on him he gets genuinely annoyed for a few seconds and then he thanks you for apologizing in a much softer tone, like he’s trying to repair any damage he might’ve done by getting mad at you. At the time, he still thinks of himself as weak, and therefore cannot bring himself to be possessive since he has no power to back it up. Instead, he manifests these feelings by doing everything in his power to please you even if it goes against his emotions. And while he doesn’t particularly love Tav going off with other people (as seen with the dialogue after you sleep with Mizora), he pretends that he’s okay with it just to keep you by his side. This tendency to please Tav in hopes they’ll stay is also seen in how he asks for your permission before he kills the Gur at the hag’s house.
Now, once he does ascend, he realizes he has the power to support all these darker emotions he feels. It turns twisted as a result, bringing us to the ascendant astarion we have today.
Spawn astarion, however, lets go of these emotions in a way, or displays them in a more healthy manner. It’s why his arc feels much more satisfying this way because ascendant astarion isn’t really changing, just adjusting. Spawn astarion goes through more raw character development which is also why I cannot bring myself to ascend him even in my evil durge play through!!
anyway yeah I made this account to do stuff like this hope you enjoyed my little rant🫶 this is just my personal opinion obviously but pls lmk if anyone thinks differently bg3 lore is so interesting
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k-looking-glass-house · 2 months
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Happy (fanon) Birthday Sam (Sammy boy!)!
Yes....it's happening, ...Did I gave fanon birthday to the twiwon's cast leftover.....Yes!
I only wanted Sam to be....a pisces...very important information....yes.... and 7 because...lucky 7 for a cursed merchant...
(When I decide to make something special about it ...tadadadadaaaa SSR Crowley popped out of nowhere....THAT BIRD THAAAAT BIIIRD!!!)
Once again this is not an edit. And I really need to work harder on line pressure... But I am such a lazy one...
....That outfit got a long history.....The coat is a Loewe x Howl's moving castle collab.... The shirt and pants are "Moschino" inspired and the shoes are the famous 80/90 brand colorful "Chanel". Kind of twisted design from a street magician... Yes he's wearing an aviator hat because blame pixiv wonderful artists and their headcanon...Sam is scarred on broom....don't ask...my brain...my fashion sense...and you wondered why models walk with "trash bag" on themself....our brain....
SAM~ SSR Birthday friends on the other side
Summon Line: “And I got friends on the other sideee~ Gneehihi everyone is ready to party right now!”
Groooovy!!: "I got things I never tried! But I got friends on the other side!"
Home: "IN STOCK NOW! Gneehihi I'm joking, I'm joking, today is a day off after all~"
Home Idle 1: "à#** Yes? Ah sorry kooni-chan, I was talking to the shadow~"
Home Idle 2: "I can't wait to go back to Jubilee port, my sisters made me a surprise party....which is no longer a surprise party *crazy grinning face* ***"
Home Idle 3:" I am still quiet young among the NRC adult crew~ *cute face*"
Home Idle - Login: "Kooni-chan look this way *stare* !!... Yes indeed my red socks are a gift from Mister Crewel. He said" Sammy-boy, to make a statement in your outfit". I enjoy them a lot gneehihi"
Home Idle - Groovy: "You reside in Ombrorio with every campus's ghosts, you must treat them properly!"
Home Tap 1: "Sam the Shadow man! I was even called Oogie Boogie back then! *shadow dancing around*"
Home Tap 2: "I am craving chicken gombo... You should definitely taste my cousin Tia' "cuisine"!"
Home tap 3: "Those necklaces pearls are gifted by our Carnaval princess, it brings good fortune!... No I didn't catch too many of them.*side eyes*"
Home Tap 4: "I have a lot of secret you know gneehihi~ If you ever need some information come to me, we'll make a good deal about it~"
Home Tap 5: "Sam...? What...Last name?...Gneehihi how bold and brave of you kooni-chan. It's Sam D. because I was born on a samedi! No more question shh shhshhh! *silent finger mouth pose*"
Home Tap - Groovy: "You're green!! Ah no I mean I'm a royal from my mother side you know *stare*"
Bonus: MAGIC DUO
Sam: Kooni-chan IN STOCK NOW 50% off!! Yuu(sona): Happy birthday Mister Sam!
*Sam's sisters are part of @evilcokito 's lore... I love them soooo much that it's canon in my head and I added them to my own lore haha (Hope you don't mind Coco...)
*Sam D is a pun word with the french word samedi which means saturday, but is also related to "Baron Samedi"
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willows-peak · 4 months
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*・゚✧ Movie Date Time!
tags: gender neutral reader, only fluff, movie date!, itadori infodumps at you and you fall in love with him bc duh, who wouldnt?
word count: 1.9k
a/n: i struggled on this lowkey bc i've never written confessions before, also why is there no lore for the human earthworm series cries
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⋆。˚ ♡ You yawned to yourself as you blearily blinked your eyes open, wiping your mouth of a stray drop of drool that had escaped during the night as you slowly started to register your surroundings. Your pillows underneath your head, the sunlight creeping through your curtains onto your face, and a strange…buzzing sound? Did a bee get in through your window?
The buzzing didn’t seem to end as you listened, the noise fading in and out of existence and bringing you out of your sleepy phase with how incessant it was. Whatever bee this was better have a death wish, because you were smacking around your bed for something to swat at it when it continued buzzing, growing louder now that you were fully conscious. Your hands, while fishing through your sheets, came to clasp around your phone, feeling it buzz loudly in your palm. Oh. That’s what it was. You swiped open your lockscreen to see the incoming call icon, ringing in time with your phone buzzing. You hit accept and held it up to your ear, croaking out a “Hello..?” before being met with the familiar, loud voice of Itadori on the other line. You whined as you heard Itadori greet you enthusiastically. “Sorry, did you just wake up?” He said, his voice softening up while you heard him chuckle nervously after you gave a sleepy ‘mhm’ in reply. “Wellll, I wanted to ask if you mayybbbee wanted to come to the movies with me! I’ll pay for your ticket, too! Well, I..have an extra ticket already, I mean..” You stretched your arms out as you listened to him, nodding at first before letting out another ‘mhm’ in agreement. “You will?? Great! I’ll come and pick you up, don’t worry about getting here.” You gave him a quiet ‘bye’ before he hung up the phone, leaving you to flop back down against your pillows and grumble. It was the weekend, so you’d planned on just sleeping in until mid afternoon at the earliest, but unfortunately life had other plans for you. And you couldn’t just deny Itadori, he was so sweet and earnest that you truly had no choice but to go with him. To the movies. Oh no.
You’d agreed to going with him before you could even realize what he was asking of you, sighing as you predicted exactly what kind of movie was in store for you. Itadori was, for lack of a better term, a film nut. The only issue with that is he seemed to find the strangest series to latch onto and gush over, with his newest love being a series called ‘Human Earthworm’. You gave it the benefit of the doubt, despite some of the scenes being too gorey for your taste, but Itadori was hooked from day one. 
You’d heard that another sequel was going to be released soon, as well, so you were certain that that’s what awaited you in the theaters. Well, you weren’t going to back out of this so quickly, especially when you had nothing else to do today. Yes, maybe the series was very clearly being milked for content, and yes, maybe a part 4 to something that should’ve ended a while ago won’t be the best film ever, but if Itadori liked it then who were you to not give it a try?
…Now, what to wear?
~☆.。.*
”Coming!!” You yelled to the doorbell ringing, hurrying to hop your foot into your shoe as you raced to open the door. You swung the heavy wood open to reveal a smiling Itadori on the other side, decked in more Human Earthworm merch than you thought even existed. You now laughed at your original worry that your outfit would stand out too harshly while going out, stepping out of your doorway while patting your pockets down for your essentials. 
“Your shoe’s untied.” Itadori pointed out, making you huff and look to the side in annoyance. “You got here way earlier than I expected, don't blame m-” A light movement against your foot made you stop yourself, taking a glance downwards to observe what was happening. “Eh?”
Itadori was…tying your shoe for you? You blinked a few times in surprise, allowing him to finish the loop and pop back up to face you. “Alright, now we're all good. Ready to go?” You paused in replying to him, the small, almost unnoticeable kind act making you feel much more sheepish. “Y….yeah, let's go. Thank you.” 
Itadori beamed at your thanks, patting your arm gently. “No problem! You're gonna need it anyways, we're walking there.” You groaned loudly at his words, tossing your head back dramatically before snapping it back towards him. “Wait, so you *walked* here that quickly??” Itadori turned his head to the side in confusion, nodding. You, once again, fell into a contemplative silence before shrugging and ushering him to follow you towards the theater. You should’ve worn something lighter..
~☆.。.*
You flopped down onto a nearby bench, sighing loudly in relief when you glanced and saw the movie theater to your left. While it’s nice having a friend like Itadori, you really wish he’d cut you some slack with physical labor like this. You heard a soft shuffle next to you as Itadori sat beside you, holding up a bottle of water. “Sorry, we could’ve just taken the bus here. But hey! You did it! Good job!” He beamed at you, patting your shoulder while you nodded and chugged the cold water out of its plastic container. After a few seconds, you gasped at the lack of air from your chugging, handing the bottle back to Itadori and thanking him. 
You’d thankfully caught your breath after another moment or two, looking over to Itadori who was calmly placing the near empty bottle of water back into his bag. You could almost catch glances of the many magazines he had hidden near the bottom, the comic-book like styling of the title and the huge worms infesting the page telling you all you needed to know about what it was. 
“Hey, Itadori-kun?” You cut through the silence building between you two, a realization coming to you. Itadori turned his head to meet your eyes, waiting for you to continue. “I…didn’t watch the last two movies. I don’t even think I can remember the first one, actually.. So, can you fill me in on what’s happened?” You swore you could see fireworks popping off in his eyes when you asked that, a wide smile making its way back onto Itadori’s face as he wasted no time with beginning the summary of the series so far.
“It’s no problem if you just start from the 4th movie, i think, but the first three really set up the world around the protagonists, and they let you see into the mindset of Dr. Richter! Oh- that’s the evil doctor who turns the people into earthworms, but did you know that’s not what he wanted to do at first?? He actually started by researching whether you could do DNA transplants between earthworms and other animals because of a worm's ability to regenerate their limbs!” 
Despite him speaking a mile a minute, you nodded along and tried to soak in as much information as you could, smiling a bit when Itadori started using his hands to help explain the plot. His eyes gleamed, the sun catching at the ring of his iris and bringing out the hues and colors of them wonderfully. Brown, with hints of red near the outer edges, the circular glint in his eyes turning a pale yellow to highlight his irises. 
His voice was so warm, too, so full of life and energy as he masterfully wove through the story he was building up. You were impressed that he hadn’t once stumbled over his words through this, too, with him even taking pauses after a change or advancement in the plot to make sure you were still with him. You nodded, but truthfully you’d gotten a little lost in how he looked while he spoke to you, occasionally grabbing and squeezing your hands when he got too excited before pulling back and clenching his fists to contain himself.
’I wonder…’ You thought to yourself, pausing before reaching your hand out to cover his clasped ones. He didn’t seem to pay it any mind, by now moving on to the second movie’s synopsis. You remembered he mentioned that this installment was his favorite, so you leaned in and nodded along while you listened to him. His hand, while he seemed to not notice you half holding it, didn’t move from its position on his lap, staying snug and still underneath your own. 
“So, I know this is the gore-iest one, but the message it sends is so amazing! It shows how far someone will go to get praise and approval, even if it destroys them, and I think that’s a really important thing to show to an audience. What do you think about it?” He asked, smiling and looking back up at you to await your answer. You noticed him panting lightly as he stopped talking, smiling fondly and rubbing his hand with your own while he looked at you earnestly.
He was so… Cute. So excitable and open and eager to be with you, while still being helpful wherever he could apply himself. Silly, strong, brave to a fault, all wrapped together with pink hair and a big hoodie. Would it really be a stretch to say that you loved all those things about him? You did love seeing how quickly he’d adapted and grew ever since coming to Jujutsu High, and you loved being able to grow with him with your technique and your abilities. So, of course you’d love what Itadori has become, every detail of it.
And he was asking you something, right? You should’ve answered by now, come on, don’t be rude.
“I love you”
.
That wasn’t what you meant to say
Oh no.
Itadori’s smile faltered slightly as your words met his ears, mumbling a “Huh?” before his ears began to look pinker by the second. “You- Wait what?” You, unfortunately, were frozen in place as you realized you had said *that* out loud and not anything else. “I-” You started, feeling your cheeks flush with warmth as the both of you looked away to find any words to say to the other.
A beat of silence, two, three, and Itadori was the first to cut through it, though softly. “Did you mean that?” He asked, his hands never moving from underneath your now cold ones. You looked back up at him, unsure if you heard him correctly. “Did you mean what you said?” He asked again, his eyes sturdy and shaky all at once as you nodded slowly. His brows lifted up, relaxing ever so slightly while he gathered himself to continue. “Then… I like you too, I think. I have for a while, but it’s ok if you don’t wanna do anything, I mean, it’s great being friends with you so it’s not like we need to-”
You leaned in towards him, staring at him until he noticed you and pressed his lips together tightly. You didn’t move, nor did you say anything for a minute, only looking at him in silence before smiling at him. “Let’s…go watch the movie, ok?” You prompted, Itadori quickly taking the lead and breathing out loudly. “Yeah, let’s go!” With a wave of his arm towards the theater, you two walked together, smiles gracing your lips as your hands never separated from walking. 
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casterousaudrey · 8 months
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To have loved and lost
Word Count: 2k
Pairing: Astarion/Gender Neutral!Reader
Theme: very angsty, death of a lover, revenge.
Note: The people have spoken and I shall answer. I tried to make this as lore-accurate as I could while maintaining my main idea! Sorry if there are errors. I was initially going to write this as a hurt/comfort but angst was just calling my name 😪. I HIGHLY recommend listening to these songs while reading hehe.
Now playing: ※ Cover me in Roses - Holden Laurence ※ I want you - Mitski ※ No surprises - Radiohead ※ What was I made for - Billie Eilish ※ Video games - Lana Del Rey
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It wasn't supposed to happen how it did. Beating Cazador was supposed to be easy, Astarion had you and your other companions to fight alongside him. The difficult part was supposed to be deciding whether he would take this power for himself or let it go along with the thousands of vampire spawns with it.
So why was he frozen in place with your lifeless body an arm away, as your other companions tried to keep Cazador and his other lackeys at bay. You were always the protective type, you cared- probably more than you should for other people. He never understood how you could be so kind to people you just met, he who tried to kill you when you first met, he who takes all your offers to drink your blood, and he whose only goal was to kill Cazador, that was before he got closer to you.
He wasn't used to affection that didn't have a price, after all the times he fed on you he didn't hear a single condition on what you should get in return, all he heard was "I'm just happy to be helping you" Or "I can see in your eyes that the hunt wasn't good today, just swing by my tent if you need me ok?". He was- confused, and albeit sickened, after what he experienced being that kind only made him weak and even made him into a slave for Cazador. At the same time he couldn't help what he was feeling, how could he deny how he felt calm when he was in your embrace after particularly hard days, your skin on his with pleasure he never felt before, your kisses felt like the touch of the sun bringing back warmth into his pale and cold body, and your eyes that held no disgust for him.
But in the end, he was right, your kindness made you take a blow from Cazador for him and you paid the price. The last thing he remembered was you running to the blast that was aimed at him, gaining multiple attacks from the numerous minions Cazador had. Astarion couldn't move, he was stuck in place by Cazador and he already accepted the blast that was coming his way but if he knew that you were going to stand between him and Cazador maybe he would've fought harder, maybe your body wouldn't have been facing him with your eyes only focused on his. The moment you got hit- he swore he saw a tear leave your eye. He still doesn't know if it was out of worry for him or fear for what would happen to you.
The blast made your body fly to him as the impact knocked both you and Astarion to a nearby pillar. He was numb, even more than he was in all the years he served Cazador. After regaining his composure Astarion tried to take a glimpse at your body, but it only made him hold his breath and look away.
"Astarion are they ok? Say something!" He could hear Shadowheart screaming for him but there was still a distinct ringing in his head, he couldn't understand what was happening, he couldn't process what just happened. Shadowheart killed the remaining lackeys Cazador had while Karlach was able to kill most of them, Maybe they also saw what happened, and maybe they were also in rage. Who could blame them, You were the best of the group, and everyone's morale solely depended on you keeping it up.
He finally gained the courage to approach your body- crawling to where you were as he turned your body upright. He finally processed what had happened, you are dead, you sacrificed your life for a vampire spawn and he never felt sadness the way he did right now. Your eyes were closed, your chest not moving to breathe, this couldn't be the end. He loved you too much to let you go now, and he regretted not saying those three words earlier. "I love you" He whispered although now it didn't feel like what he imagined it would be, it felt meaningless.
In his grief he tried to find a solution, he racked his brain for any kind of answer, and in desperation, he found one. He'll turn you into a vampire, just like what happened to him when he died. Although he hoped this would happen in different circumstances he can't doubt himself now. "Hold on darling, okay? I got you. I'm here." He cradled your body in his arms as he wasted no time to bite your neck. In all his years as a spawn he has never experienced truly turning someone else, and why would he, the pain he remembered when he turned was not the pain he wanted on anyone else.
A bite and a drop of his blood was all that it should've taken. He bit his arm and had taken more than a drop of his blood in his mouth. He held your face as his blood made its way down your throat. For a moment he was glad, he knew it would work, this was how he turned! How could it not? But with the bite mark on your neck and the smell of his blood still lingering on your lips, you still weren't moving or responding at all. "What's the matter, love? Why isn't it working? I need you to live please!"
He cried and cried but through his tears, he wondered if maybe just biting you and giving you more blood would work. Frantic he started to remove the armor you had to gain access to more parts of your body.
Bite.
Your wrist, the same ones he remembers so tenderly to have kissed when you made love.
Bite.
Your leg, it would always tangle with his on nights that you found peace in each other's arms.
Bite.
Your thigh, what he would give to hold it tight once again as you sat on top of him.
Bite.
Your neck again, where he would bury his face, and suddenly all his problems would disappear.
He took in even more of his blood that once again made its way deep down your throat.
...
..
.
But nothing, it wouldn't work. He tried to reason with himself that maybe just maybe it would take a while for you to turn but he knew deep down that wasn't how it worked.
"You see boy, you are weak, you are nothing but a vampire spawn with no ability to protect anyone. Did I not teach you better than this?" Cazador who was already on his knees still managed to talk Astarion down.
Shock turned to grief and grief into rage.
"In all my problems and all the times I failed it was always you who was behind it..." Astarion made sure to put your body down gently whispering an 'I'll be back sweetheart' before standing up and striding towards Cazador and grabbing him by the back of his head "You just weren't satisfied with the years of pure shit you put me through were you?" Out of all the cruel things Cazador has done Astarion would argue that this is by far the most gut-wrenching thing he had ever experienced.
"Astarion, maybe if we bring them back to a church fast enough the clerics could-"
"The clerics can't do anything about this now!"
Karlach was quick to stop talking, normally she would not be easily swayed but she knew that he was right, You were as good as dead and in Astarions mind his world had also ended.
"You are a fool to believe that you could ever have a happy ending, Astarion. From the moment I turned you to the moment you lured your first victim you should've known that no Gods would ever take pity on your soul." The hand that was holding the back of Cazador's neck tightened. "You're right, No God would help me, but maybe your little contract can"
Astarion threw Cazador on the ground as the decision was set in his mind. "What do you think you're doing?" Finally, a hint of fear in Cazador's voice was what Astarion needed to continue what he was about to do. He needed to ascend to find another solution that his abilities as a spawn couldn't possibly find. "Karlach, I need your help- your eyes rather, to see the scars on my back. Use the parasite to connect to my mind so I can see the scars on my back and copy it onto his."
"You wouldn't dare!"
"Oh, but I would, years of trying to push me towards the edge and today... You finally did it and I applaud you" Astarion picks up the blade beside him ready to carve the contract onto his back.
"You know I can't let you do that" Karlach tries to reason as she sees how truly hurt Astarion is.
"That wasn't a question! All the power that he's lusted after will be mine"
"At the cost of a lot of lives. It's not worth it, Astarion" Shadowheart knows nothing could sway him now, not after what Cazador did.
"My darlings' life was worth more than thousands! I'm just trying to even out the score"
Karlach debates for a minute, If she lets Astarion do the ritual thousands would die but if she doesn't Cazador would surely find a way to ascend and hunt down Astarion. In the end, she lets Astarion see the scars on his back, she could feel the blade in his hand with a tight grip and his grief covered by the lust for power that he can obtain.
"Yes, yes I see it." Astarion smiles a wicked grin as he removes Cazador's top which reveals his bare back soon to be marked with a contract.
The moment the blade came in contact with Cazador's back it was followed by his blood-curdling screams with the sound of flesh being carved out rather brutally. Shadowheart had to look away until the screams came to an end and the contract was finally set on Cazador's back.
"Ungrateful child. Wretched child."
"It's time to take your place."
Astarion picked up Cazador's staff which gave him the power to place Cazador to where he would be sacrificed. He could feel it, the power was an inch away from his grasp. All he needed to do now was plow the staff into the ground to obtain all that power.
As he raised the staff with closed eyes all he could think of was you, the images of all the times you spent together flashed before his eyes, at first he was happy then enraged after realizing that he might never see your smile again. It was all he needed for him to plow the staff to the ground as a red aura emanated from the floor and to the spawns. He recited the chant for the ritual and finally, he felt stronger and even more powerful.
One by one they all died and Astarion could feel the power flowing through him, he was high on whatever power he just received and as Cazador died the ritual was complete. Shadowheart and Karlach could only look in concern and fear as Astarion smiled.
He was free at last, but how free could he be when the chains of your death still hold him hostage? He let go of the staff as it started floating on its own and started following him. He slowly walks towards your body, still no change, but he picks you up anyway and gives a small kiss on your forehead. "Come on sweetheart, I'll get you fixed up, I promise. I'll find a way."
He started to slowly walk out of the lair, not caring if the other two would follow or not. Your body cradled closely to his chest. He looked to your lips which would feel so tender against his- now unmoving, and your eyes- he was convinced had some sort of magic in it now closed. His head filled with thoughts of the endless power and control he could have and what that power could do to bring you back to life. He looked menacing just from the way he walked, anyone who stood in his way would be destroyed. In his mind, this is what grieving felt like, an emptiness to what should be full, the weight of the world on his shoulders, and the Gods laughing at his despair.
As he approaches the elevator, the gurs stand in alert ready to confront Astarion about what he's done but for their sake, he hopes they would stand down. For a grieving monster is more terrifying than they think.
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