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gojo-enthusiast · 1 month

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Kento Nanami — No Words, Only Moans

mlist<3

18+, MDI, degrading, angry sex, overstimulation—

Your darling husband Kento Nanami was not happy with you today. You had always known he was a rather patient husband, so you naturally got away with little back talk, and snarky remarks. This morning you made your husband late for work, when you decided late at night to rearrange his shoes and clothes, you hadn’t realized you didn’t hang his dress shirt he wore for missions, now his laundry is wrinkled, and on the floor. Gojo now calling Kento asking him where he is at?

All through out the day, you had called him asking him common sense questions, like “what are your thoughts on white bread and wheat bread” but to you, you were seeking attention from your agitated husband, and seeing him getting frustrated by your actions, only fueled for you to piss him off more. Finally after the last call, Kento finally was done with your attitude. “Fuck, quit calling me for the rest of the day. You’re driving me berserk.” He snaps. “Excuse me?” You ask in an agitated tone. “You have been picking on me all day, if you don’t have an emergency do not call me, I am working. Fuck— Itadori-Kun, don’t touch that! Gojo-San, you fucking dumbass!” He shouts, hanging up the phone. At this point you knew, you fucked up. Your ass was grass when he got home, he either was going to scold you, or not talk to you until he cools down.

You paced around the living room, as 5PM hit, meaning your husband was going to be home in 17 minutes. Sitting on the couch, cuddled under a blanket, biting your nails. You see the nob turn, and keys dangling. You hear a light mutter behind the door, and a frustrated grunt. “Fuck fuck fuck.” You think to yourself. You rushed to the bathroom, instantly turning the hot water on for a bath, knowing your husband was going to be angry with you, you were trying to soften up his feelings as much as possible. As you hear the front door slam shut. You begin to start putting some epsom salts and essential oils in the bath, something to calm him down. Your heart is racing, your skin has chill bumps. You lacked much cursed energy, so you lived your life as a normal person, but at this moment, you sensed his presence the closer he got, until he was at the bathroom door, staring at you.

“Hey Ken— I drew you a bath.” You lightly said, watching him loosen his tie, you could see his blue shirt was still wrinkled, and he looked disheveled. “Let me take your clothes and I’ll wash and iron them.” You add lightly. Your husband has YET to say a word. You walk over to him, grabbing the tie that was bundled in his hands, and begin to unbutton his shirt, wanting to take full care of your Kento. You felt his head droop down, his mouth next to your ear.

“Listen to me carefully.” He says in a seductive growl. “You’re not allowed to speak, until I say you’re allowed the speak.” He says, making your heart race even faster, “take off your clothes and bend over the counter… now.” He growls. You look up to say something, but you knew if you did so, you might be the next thing he exercises. You look up at him, with your innocent doe eyes, pleading with him to be easy on you. But you saw clear in his eyes, tonight is about him, and him only, he will use you till his hearts content. “Now.” He says louder. You nod lightly, pulling your nightgown off, only left in your silk panties, that you hadn’t even realized you soaked in your arousal. “Wtf is wrong with me?” You think to yourself.

You bend over the counter, hearing your husband turn off the tub, and then come up behind you, his clothed manhood pressed against you, as he gently rubs the fat of your ass, before he lands a hard slap on it. Making your legs shake, and a yelp coming out of your lips. “HUSH!” He shouts. You close your mouth, feeling your arousal slip out of you. “Look at you, soaked. Is this what you wanted, you act like a fucking brat all day, for me to fuck you?” He hisses, he was beyond furious, you could feel the heat coming off his body. He peeled your underwear off, dropping it at your ankles. A moment later, you feel him push a silicone item inside your hole, your walls hugging it so perfectly. “Ah—“ you moan. Then another slap on your ass. You covered your mouth. “Fuck, Do you not fucking listen?” He asks. You nodded, and then stifled the moan that almost escaped your mouth when you felt the machine turn on. “Stand there, and take it. I’m gonna take a bath.” Kento smirks to himself. “Don’t you fucking dare move or talk. I only give you permission to moan.”

Kento watched you as he sat in the bath, relaxing after a long day. He watched you as the vibrator which he controlled on a remote, made you cum over and over and over. It had been the 5th time now, you were crying in pleasure, you couldn’t speak, but your moans were confirming to him, that you were wanting to be fucked merciless. Your hearing had gone in and out, but you heard your husband step out of the bath and walk up to you. He pulled the device out of you, and quickly replaced it with his cock. Instantly slamming into you. “You little slut, you like it when I fuck you like this? You’re gonna fuckin take it.” He grunts, his hips were like a stallion, he slammed them forcefully and fucked you stupid. You felt him pick you up, showcasing yourself to the mirror. “Watch how I fuck your slutty cunt. Watch how I fix that brattiness.” He grunts in your ear, you sat there and watch your husband fuck up into you roughly, “Ken-“ you groan, feeling so overstimulated. “SHUT UP!” he shouts, biting your shoulder. You yelped out from the bite, feeling your stomach tingle, “shut up shut up shut up!” He chanted, he didn’t want to hear you, he wanted to hear nothing come out of your mouth. “I only want to hear your pussy, she listens, unlike you.” He growls, slamming faster, placing his hand on your clit, rubbing quickly. He loved the way you would clamp down on him as you were approaching an orgasm.

You blacked out after squirting all over the mirror, you woke up 10 minutes later, to you lied on your stomach, and your back arched. Kento was slamming into you still. His cock was throbbing, he had busted already, yet he needed more. “Fuck!! You make me so fucking angry. You never fucking listen.” He says as he thrust. “Kenny, I’m sorry baby. Please slow down.” You moan, feeling your walls and stomach tighten again. “I can’t hear anything, I can’t hear anything you’re saying.” He grunted, he was so entranced and addicted to your pussy that nothing you could do, could calm him the fuck down. “Please, ah- Kenny.” You whimpered, you moaned so deliciously, making his cock twitch inside of you. “Fuck, I could fuck you forever. I don’t want to hear— hear your words, I just want to hear you cry for more.” Kento groaned, his cock was so sensitive, yet he couldn’t stop. “Ken, feels so so good. I’ll be so so good now, I just-just missed you so so much.” You moan out. “I wont ever leave you.” He moaned into your ear, as his thrust began to get sloppy, and his head next to yours. You felt him pull out, flipping you over, inserting himself back into you sopping sensitive cunt. He thrust quickly, while her hand found your clit and rubbed it quickly. “Cum, now.” He grunted, as his cock twitched and started shooting out inside of you. “Ah yes yes yes!” You chanted, cumming and squirting all over his cock. “Kento, please slow down.” You moaned, feeling your legs spasm. You simply couldn’t take it anymore. “Water, I need water.” You groan. Your husband’s vision, finally clearing and his head less foggy. “Hmm?” He hummed as he slid out, and lied beside you, slipping off the bed to grab water. You stared at his figure, as his cock began to finally soften, and he looked thoroughly satisfied. He handed you a bottle water, and you downed it like you were dehydrated. “I’m sorry kento.” You pout. He kissed your forehead, and whispered. “I’m not done with you yet. You better get your breather in, you messed with me for 8 hours, we have 5 more hours to go.” He said, as you watched his cock swole back up. The only thought in your head— “oh fuck, I really fucked up.”

#anime fanfic #fanfiction #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x reader #kento nanami smut #nanami kento smut #nanami kento #nanami smut #kento smut #jjk kento #kento x reader #kento x y/n #jujutsu nanami

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shallyouobeyme · 7 months

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Fortune

Platonic Yander Malfoy!Family x Dragon!reader (GN)

Summary: A long time ago there lived a species of dragon-hybrids with magical gifts. You - one of these hybrids - had the gift of bringing good fortune to whoever was close to you, but as you'd soon learn, using your gift to help others would only endanger you...

! Minors do not interact !

TW: Not Canon Complainant about the Malfoy's backstory, imprisonment, manipulation, kidnapping, infantilisation (kinda), I do not condone this - this is all fiction

One or two Centuries ago, when muggles still believed in magic and fantastical creatures roamed the earth almost freely, many more kinds of species lived in nature. Some of them were closely related to creatures still on this planet in the present. One example of such a case was a kind of dragon that had long since left the face of the earth, one that shared many similarities with the humans around it. In fact, these dragons had the ability to shift from their full dragon form to that of a bipedal, humanoid dragon-person hybrid. Further than their ability to shift though was their ability to innately use magic.

Now, their abilities were not like the abilities of wizards and witches who could put their magic into words and gestures, using their magic as a medium to achieve many different goals. Instead, they tended to be born with a specific magical talent that differed from case to case - some could control different elements (since these dragons did not naturally have the ability to breathe fire or water), some could communicate with nature, some changed the weather, and others could use their scales to make themselves invisible to any living and dead being.

One of these dragons, still a young fetchling when this story began had a rare and sought-after ability - the ability to attract fortune. Something every dragon with a knack for hoarding (so almost all) would kill for, which was why the little dragon-hybrid was told from a very young age to keep hidden from creatures that would use them and their powers for their own gain. This young dragon was you - and often, when you now fell asleep, you still dreamt of the night that would turn out to be the one to doom your entire life.

You had barely just started to fly without your parent's supervision and after being kept at home for your entire (short) life in hopes that no one would try to use you, your curiosity for real life and everything beyond the mountain you called home grew restless. So you did what any curious child with the ability to fly would do and you took off to where you knew the nearest village to be. You landed a few miles away from it, well aware that your parents would be furious beyond belief if you went into town and let your existence be known to humans. After all, your parents always did make a point of mentioning just how greedy and selfish humans tended to be.

You were a fool to not believe them. You were in your humanoid form - comparable with a human child of about eight or nine years - as you stepped into a clearing. The sound of sobbing echoed through the trees around you and your eyes fell onto a form hunched onto the floor in sobs. They looked similar to you, but a lot smoother, and without any horns or wings protruding out of their back. Honestly, they looked really strange, but your parents had described something similar to what you were seeing and they had said that these smooth wingless things were humans. Obviously, you were intrigued.

"Why are you crying?" you asked in your young, squeaky voice and the human jumped up, turning to look at you in shock. Their eyes widened even further at your appearance, but they seemed too shaken to properly realize what was going on.

"You-You're a - You're a dragon?" they finally stuttered out, their tears long forgotten. You couldn't help but giggle, of course, you were a dragon, what else were you supposed to be?

"Yes I am, and you're a human, right?" you asked and they only responded by nodding, "then why were you crying, human?"

"I-" They seemed to question their reality for a second, probably wondering if they should tell a random little dragon-hybrid their sorrows, but they responded nonetheless, "My mother... She's very ill and I don't have the money to buy the medicine she needs, I fear that she'll pass away soon and then I will be all alone in the world."

As their tears build up again, you feel yourself sympathize with the human. Sure, you had your parents, but they were travelling all of the time, leaving you to your own devices and even your siblings had been allowed to leave the nest and make a way of their own, it was just you who was kept alone in the cave under the pretence of protection. So you very well knew how it felt to be alone, to be lonely. And so you knew that if you could do something against someone else feeling like that, then you would.

"I can help you!" you exclaimed excitedly at the thought of doing something good.

"What? How?" the human - you decided that if humans were at all similar to your own kin then they must have been a man - asked, completely perplexed as you walked towards him, stopping just a step away.

"It's my gift, I can bring fortune to people, I can help you make the money you need for the medicine," you were smiling brightly now, but the human still seemed confused. 'How,' he just asked and you told him to kneel down. Usually, your presence alone was enough to attract riches and riches beyond most people's dreams, but you knew that if you wanted to help someone attract fortune without being near them, you had to use a different tactic. And so, once the man had knelt down, you pressed a kiss to his forehead and a shimmer of silver light sparkled over his face - the same silver of your scales.

After that you left for home, but before you could take off the human called out to you: "What's your name? Will I see you again?"

"I'm Y/N - and I don't know, I hope so," you responded as you took flight and the last thing they shouted to you before the distance was too large to hear them was that their name was Layton Malfoy.

After that, you used every chance you had to fly to that clearing where Layton was usually already waiting for you - he'd tell you all these amazing stories of his life and he'd entertain you, trying to be your best friend. At least you thought that was all he wanted. What you didn't realize was that slowly but surely he was trying to keep you by his side longer and longer, always finding another reason as to why you should stay, telling you how your parents were using you, about how they weren't these amazing dragons that you thought them to be. And maybe because you were just a lonely child who was just desperate for the attention or maybe because Layton was your first friend and you didn't believe friends would lie to each other, you believed him. And so after he kept telling you all these things about how he was the one who would actually protect you, about how he'd finally let you live a normal life, you left the clearing with him towards his home town - thinking about how you'd return home one day and tell your parents about how wrong they were about humans and about all the great things you lived through.

You never returned home though, in fact, you never saw your parents again. Decades later - you were now comparable to a human teenager - Layton's grandchildren had told you that the dragon-hybrids had been declared extinct after they had been hunted for their powers and their horns. The Malfoy heir told you that he was so happy that his grandfather had 'taken you in' and how the entire family just felt thankful that you hadn't been hunted as well. He elected to ignore the fact that you were shackled to a wall in a secret Cellar below their large estate - possible only because they had you locked away to attract them money,.

After finding out about the cruel fate of your kin, you shifted into your dragon form attempting to not give the Malfoy any sense of result by responding to them or even just paying attention to them. You rolled into yourself, closed your eyes and stopped things but eat, drink and sleep. No matter how often the ever-evolving generations of Malfoys tried to get you to interact with them, you just stayed silent. Honestly, you were surprised that after decades of silence, they still tried to talk to you - wasn't your presence in their cellar enough? You were still attracting fortune for them, what more did they want? Over the years they tried to get you out of your shell by decorating your cellar with numerous pillows and blankets and things that dragons loved in their hord. Your Chamber probably had more money, jewels and riches in it than their bank account. And yet, as much as you secretly appreciated your new horde, you stayed silent.

At least until a new Malfoy was born and old enough to come down to you on his own. Lucius was just a child when he saw you for the first time lying curled into yourself in your pile of riches and pillows and blankets, but even he could see the sadness in your form. And so he tried to talk to you, but like his parents and grandparents had told him, the dragon in their cellar did not talk. But he didn't stop, he told you about how he thought the family had enough money already, about how he thought they should let you free and how you'd be able to breathe fresh air again once he became the patriarch of the family. Maybe it was the earnestness in his voice or the fact that he reminded you of yourself when you were a hatchling, still trusting in the world around you, but you caved and you shifted for the first time in what must have been over 100 years.

It was safe to say Lucius was ecstatic and the two of you soon became close. You talked to him and him only, and he enjoyed it immensely. He tried to spend as much time as possible down with you and was so close to you that you actually let him nap with you in your horde (he always got to lie on the parts with lots of pillows and blankets, because you knew humans were a lot more sensitive than you). And as he grew older you tried to remind him of his promise and at first he agreed, but the older he grew the more unsure he seemed. Still, he agreed - probably knowing that you'd stop your friendship with him once you realized that he didn't intend to keep his promise anymore.

It was only once he came down, dressed all in black, now an adult with his own child, telling you that his father Abraxas had passed because of a case of Dragon Pox - a cruel wink of fate as you couldn't help but think - that you excitedly ran towards the bars of your cage, believing that you'd finally be let out of this horrible prison. Only that Lucius didn't open the door. 'Why?' you asked him, silver streaks of tears streaming down your cheeks, 'Don't you have enough Fortune? Is the money really worth it?'.

"It was never about the money, at least not for me if it was just that I would let you go in a heartbeat, but I know that the second I let you out you'll be gone. You'll leave me behind, here without you, and I don't think I can do that Y/N. I need to know that you're here, safe, where I always know you're well cared for. I hope one day you'll be able to forgive me - even if I'm not there to experience it."

That was the day you realized that Lucius and Narcissa - and after his son Draco as well - would never let you go. They did try to make your living 'situation' more comfortable, changing out the bars to your cave with an actual door after putting enough spells on you to keep you from ever leaving the premises of their mansion, keeping you from kind of violence against them and keeping alerting them should you ever be in any kind of distress or danger. Soon they had integrated you into their everyday life, treating you like a child to be protected and not like you've had lived longer than they could ever imagine. Even Draco - who grew up with you as a constant in his life - developed the same sense of protectiveness that his parents had, as if he wasn't a literal child, and when it was time for him to leave for Hogwarts he insisted you writing him at least once a week, because otherwise he was sure he'd go insane with worry (at least that was what he said).

And so, while for a few decades, you had actually thought freedom was close, you soon realized that you had just switched one prison against a slightly more glamorous one - and it seemed that as long as there were Malfoys, you'd never be able to escape it.

A/N: This is based on another great idea by @sol565 so I wanna give them a big thanks and a big shoutout ❤️❤️❤️

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taggedmemes · 4 months

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SENTENCE MEME BALDUR'S GATE 3 / PART ONE

i think you're past the point of saving.

together we might survive.

get me out of this damn thing.

we have no time for stragglers.

do you intend to die for a stranger?

i thought that damn thing was going to be my coffin.

you keep dangerous company.

we can watch each other's backs along the way.

enough of this chatter.

who put you in charge?

i'll trust my own judgement.

a miracle, given everything you've been through.

it'll all be for nothing if you don't find help soon.

you're alive. i'm alive. how is this possible?

seems like we're the lucky ones, judging by all the corpses strewn about.

anything's an improvement on where we just came from.

'we'? you want to stay together?

we need each other.

i can't think of better company.

i wanted to thank you again.

you should be furious, shouldn't you?

kill it yourself — you look capable enough.

i was hoping for a kind soul.

let's try to keep that lovely neck of yours in one piece.

no need for this to get messy.

i need her alive.

and to think i was ready to decorate the ground with your innards.

please, allow me to introduce myself.

of course it'll turn me into a monster.

you should travel with me.

our odds are better together.

i was ready to go this alone.

maybe sticking with the herd isn't such a bad idea.

you seem like a useful person to know.

let's hope any future acquaintances don't hold a blade to your throat by way of introduction.

no harm in a little mystery.

conversation shouldn't be made, it should be grown.

maybe i'd like to get to know you better.

i'm usually better at this.

couldn't have phrased it more repellently myself.

you don't happen to be a cleric, by any chance? a doctor, surgeon? uncannily adroit with a knitting needle?

it's not exactly a common affliction.

a parasite shared is a parasite halved.

you're both twice as tall as me but have half the bloody backbone.

no point getting killed.

second worm gets the cheese and all.

nobody's getting any damn cheese.

she obviously sees your kindness as weakness.

don't let her take advantage.

a simply 'thank you' wouldn't go amiss.

your friends abandoned you.

i've got plenty of friends who aren't soft.

let's just hope she reserves those impulses for any common foes.

what a curious way to awaken.

what is the worth of a single mortal's life?

something the matter?

you must have thoughts about our little stowaways.

thinking about it won't help.

i suppose we'd go our separate ways — not a slight on your company, of course.

no reason for us to not stay together if we get on well.

if we do survive, we'll have separate lives to return to.

let's just say it's a very person, very private acquaintance.

you're not the kind of company i'd keep willingly.

perhaps i'll return the favor at some point.

she's delightful, in a very 'look at me twice and i'll dismember you' kind of way.

i understand much beyond your comprehension.

you'd do well to observe more and question less.

and they didn't cut you from navel to neck?

i am still getting used to people like you.

that large, fleshy nose of yours looks like a mistake.

best to keep quiet, lest any drivel leak from your lips.

i do not intend to stay long in this place.

may your actions express the same mettle.

anomalies lead to surprises.

what hasn't happened may yet come to pass.

not a collaboration i'd have anticipated.

can't you tell me something real about you?

i have a great respect for privacy, especially my own.

i have a very disciplined mind.

those tricks won't work on me.

please don't try that again unless i invite you to.

we meet again, as predicted.

care to explain why you're helping me?

what kind of services can a skeleton offer?

a monster forms inside us, and you care to be idle?

i knew your kind to be fragile.

don't you know an exhausted warrior is an ineffective one?

it's a thickheaded notion in a complex circumstance.

what were you two talking about?

if that was any of your business, we'd have called you over.

your business is mine.

we're entwined.

if we're to survive, we need to trust each other.

you seem reliable.

we're overdue some good fortune.

#sentence meme #rp meme #sentence starters #bg3 meme #roleplay meme #inbox meme

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mphountitled · 11 months

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𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲 𝐕𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 | 𝐋𝐮𝐤𝐚𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧

Lukas Matsson x Fem!Reader | Kendall Roy x Fem!reader

Summary: Kendall had always been a competent, steady boyfriend, but there is always, always room for improvement.

Warnings: Language, Politics, Business, Cheating, Mentions of murder, Smut (+18) Minors DNI, CNC, Rough Sex, choking, degradation, ownership kink, dom/sub dynamics. Roman as his own warning.

I am mentally unwell, and so is Matsson.

Due to your perilous schedule as a political and public figure, arguing with your lover had never really made it past scheduling in the smorgasbord of your career. Perhaps that is why Kendall decided to pick unnecessary fights in the middle of a Swedish trip. He felt, and rightfully so, infinitesimally insignificant when compared to the hellscape that is your established career in the American political sphere.

You can see it in the way his broad shoulders hunch slightly, the way his larger lower lip protrudes into a petulant pout.

You're appalled.

"Kendall, you can't be fucking serious," Your first night on Matsson's retreat was scheduled to be filled with myriad orgasms in myriad uncanny positions. You and Kendall should be christening this luxury suite, but, instead you find your voice has climbed to ungodly octaves to a point that you feared you may shatter the glass wall that displayed the quiet Norwegian woods.

You couldn't give even half a shit as to whether others housed in adjoining tree-house suites might hear your furious bickering.

"You're a fucking child," he says lowly, desperately trying to regain control over the situation but only fumbling it by the second, "Do you know that?"

"No!" You exclaim, "Iverson and Sophie are!" He turns his back to you. Your nails dig into the bedsheets, "Those are your actual children, yeah!? When was the last fucking time you called them!? You're too busy measuring your dick against the Swedes- you're too busy to give Rava a fucking call."

"I have met plenty of selfish sociopaths in my day, Kendall, but this is unfathomable." His shadow falls over you like a second cloud in the already darkened suite's interior.

"Did she put you up to this?" He asks in that manic state of his with his hand pointed outward in condemnation of his most recent enemy.

"Are you aware that you have children together? You will know her for the rest of your life, are you aware of that?"

Kendall is quick to deflect, "Fuck! I can't catch a fucking break. Of course you run to my ex and- and- what? You fucking-meet up at Tasha's. Fucking talking about Kendall's cock-rings over your croissants."

You withhold the urge to laugh by letting a wave of fury wash over you anew. "You didn't even tell them their grandfather died before you dragged us out to fucking Norway, Kendall! That's unhinged! You're unhinged!"

"I'm perfectly hinged!" He says, turning away from you, pyjama pants billowing as he grabs his keys and a pack of cigarettes, "I'm like the doors on fucking Downing street, motherfucker," He speaks lowly. Voice simmering. "I'm fucking hinged."

The door slams with finality, leaving you clinging to your robe in front of a backdrop full of trees.

There's a deeply sated sigh that leaves your throat as you haul yourself over the Egyptian linen sheets. Fighting with Kendall had always been an impossible feat- something akin to yelling obscenities at a brick wall smeared with cocaine, but it always left you marginally satisfied after. A part of you felt like you might be saving him.

There is a frown, slight and not at all visible in the low evening light, drifting across your face as you stare down at yourself with disappointment and a hint of disapproval. Kendall was supposed to rip this robe right off you the second you got out of the shower. But, instead, you find yourself turning on your side, staring at the pines beyond the glass.

The sound of the door clicking open, ruins the serenity that had begun to settle.

"I for sure thought you'd gone and blown your head off for real this time, Ken." You mumble monotonously while staring ahead at the glass.

"While all these hungry vultures at my retreat does make me lean into the sound of suicide, I quite enjoy living."

You're quick to pull your unravelled rope across your frame as you sit up against the oak headboard.

"Not Kendall." He says.

Matsson towers enough to hunch slightly and disrupt the flow of the sleek, vertical finishes.

"Why are you here?"

"Well it is my retreat."

He smiles. Or at least you believe that he believes he is smiling. Sharks can't smile, you don't think.

"My house."

Lukas shoves his hands in pockets as he continues to stare at you. His disciplined eyes never stray or drift across your exposed legs, they never gloss over your deadly grip on the tightened robe digging into the plushness across your middle.

He's staring at you. Eyes boring into eyes.

"I've come to deliver a noise complaint."

"Consider it delivered."

He does not leave. Instead, he delves deeper into your space, the space shared with your boyfriend. You watch carefully as Matsson plants himself on the edge of the bed. There is an air of nervousness that bristles throughout the Norwegian woods as he brings one leg up to cross the other. You watch, entranced by how the soft Tom Ford sweatpants crease slightly under his fluid movements. His beige Balenciaga shirt sits comfortably and it elicits a sense of control as he makes himself comfortable in front of you.

The one thing you could never allow yourself to be was intimidated, and intimidation is all you heard from the mouths that affirmed this man. However, the subtle yet suffocating label whoring, the designer sandals…

He was just another man, suffocated by the weight of his own money. He had everything to prove. That gave you control.

"I didn't know when Kendall brought me on this trip that I was to be subjected to an invasion of privacy,"

"I heard you the first time," He says, chuckling in complete condescension, "I am aware you're here with Kendall. You don't have to bring him up the whole fucking time."

"Are you here under work pretences then? I'm not involved in the hellscape that is ATN, nor the Nazi wonderland that is Waystar so I would make a lousy spy."

"I know who you are," his eyes dart away, giving you enough time to break slightly, take heavier breaths and compose yourself, "I've seen the work you are… attempting to accomplish in that flaccid dick of a country," His gaze is back on you, "And while I do applaud you, politics bores me. You're all fucked anyway, I just came here to enquire if you would like to have sex with me?"

The manner in which he says those words, so calmly and succinctly, has you praying for another moment of regeneration while he darts his eyes away.

"You mean the noise complaint was a fluke?"

"In addition to the noise complaint, I would like to sleep with you, yes."

You're practically suffocted with the over abundance of choice. Matsson would be a fun and interesting side project for you to sink your claws into and manipulate with the added advantage of sex.

But there is a darkness lurking behind this man's gaze that promises far too much risk with little to no reward.

"No, I think I'm good. Thanks for stopping by, Lukas. It was certainly not a pleasure talking to you-"

You speak calmly, shuffling off the bed so you can escort him to the door. "Please find yourself outside of my personal and habitual space kindly and quickly-" but the axis tilts, and he does a daring thing by encircling a strong grip on your forearm. You try to lurch your arm out of his iron grip but it's fucking sealed around you like a constricting python. The darkness seems so incredibly poignant. God, all this man holds is darkness.

"I did not ask for myself." He says with a hint of condescension, "I asked for you." Matsson has you locked between his spindly legs while your robe billows open. Your face warms as you feel coolness settle against your exposed stomach but Lukas' eyes never leave your own.

From this angle, there is no chance to look away. Everything is maximised, from the wrinkles running like river channels underneath his bright blue eyes to the slight overbite in his teeth, perhaps his only external flaw.

What a dangerous individual.

"They're Roys." Lukas says, "He's a Roy," You suddenly feel juvenile and bashful, as you take the scolding, "You should know better,"

You're only vaguely aware that the distance between you two has been lessening because the air feels warmer. His breath is mixing with yours and his hand is doing a funny little dance along your forearm. "You should know better," He says.

And perhaps you should have closed the distance, perhaps you should have chased him away. You certainly should not have waited for a pair of irregular footsteps approaching to finally push the lumbering man away from you. Thankfully, he kindly obliged although Matsson's hand stalled, still rubbing against your elbow when Kendall stumbles in.

"Uh, what the fuck are you doing here? What the fuck is he doing here?" Kendall's eyes are tired and bloodshot and you step away from Lukas' gravitational pull as you curl into Kendall's side. Kendall's suede Versace jacket is cool but his skin is warm as you burrow into the side of his neck. Your guilt worsens as you feel Kendall's arm curl around your waist.

You speak into Kendall's ear, loud enough for Lukas to hear, "Matsson is still trying to rape your company, I'm afraid. " You say with a lazy smile.

"Already raped," Says Lukas, shuffling passed the two of you, "Logan was the decision maker, remember?"

Before the man finds himself over the threshold, Kendall speaks up.

"Hey, no more private visits, yeah? Not cool."

You watch with bated breath as Matsson only cracks a toothy lopsided grin before tapping the wood of the doorframe and disappearing.

That evening had ended, like most of the evenings to come, with angry, jealousy-fueled sex. There had always been a distinct animosity between Kendall and Matsson but whatever had been in the air seemed to triple. Kendall kept you close during the entire experience. He kept you under Kremlin-level surveillance but he couldn't be with you all the time. In the moments you found yourself without Kendall, Matsson would appear from out of the shadows like a demon, slinking behind you with a hand ghosting your hip. He watched you from above the rim of whiskey-filled tumblers and even asked for your input whenever conversation within the group got a little political. One such conversation had the unfortunate interjection of one Roman Roy, who saw you as another toy in his toy box.

"What do you need two assistants for anyway?" The grinding of your teeth come to a deafening halt as you turn your head to face the youngest Roy. The smile on your face is amicable, some might even call it polite, but it is a well enough facade veneering the tempest brewing beneath.

"What- does Jess hold your balls while you tell knock-off Maya Angelou here" He points to you, "-to bend her head and suck?"

There were a number of things you simply allowed when it came to your courtship with Kendall Roy. You would even shame yourself into admitting that you might have found Kendall's overall emotional incompetence and dysfunctional family quite endearing in the beginning. But, like every magnificent, spine curling orgasm, the magic ebbed away quickly and soon, you were left with nothing but the wetness of his cum, cooling between your thighs.

That is what Kendall and his siblings were like most times.

Cooling, diabolical cum.

"Rome, come on." And therein lay Kendall's consistent, valeant response, of which he chose to defend you.

Rome. Come on.

Simply hearing those words leave his brother's mouth with even the faintest hint of disapproval sent Roman into a frenzy (you could see his pupils dilating and his cock hardening from your spot on a couch adjacent to Roman and Shiv). Matsson's entire foyer was set alight with amicable, drunken murmurs, of which Greg's nervous whimpers were occasionally heard peppered in.

Tom had retired to bed, (whether that would be in the same suite as Shiv, would be a satisfactory cup of tea you would divulge with your girlfriends later.) Matsson and his followers sat in their own private harem in a corner beside you.

"What?" Roman cries, slamming back a handful of ground nuts (an admittedly clever substitute for Swedish alcohol) "I was just asking a question. I know your people like to claim reparations for a lot of shit these days but I'm sure enquiring about the girl my big brother's fucking doesn't equate to slavery."

Although you hated the little demon with every bright blue blood cell running through your arteries, you did admire the sure-fire way he would spit his hateful vitriol.

"I appreciate the faux-concern, Roman." You keep it curt, cute and even forgiving, hoping he might take the win and leave you to down the last of your Hennessey in peace.

"That's your cue," Kendall announces, "Drop it."

"Look at how wet she's getting from my rich white brother finally using his voice to defend her for once." The conversation between the Swedes had long since ceased and your throat clogs as the music tins through hidden speakers. "Kenny so clearly has a type," Says Roman, now facing his brother with his elbows steepled on his knee. "I bet you couldn't wait to dive into that plethora of liberal pussy, could you, big brother?"

Your patience had long since snapped and your words are flying before you could stop them, "Considering you couldn't even get pussy without catching a rape charge or an incredibly disappointed prostitute, I'll assume this pseudo-incest interest you have in Kendall's sex life is normal,"

Roman only laughs, "No amount of sick burns is going to release you from the fact that your fucking a crackhead. Maybe it's the money," he taps the bottom of chin in a flamboyant display of consideration, "Although if it's raping our company that's your main goal, the Swedes might have you beat." Matsson straightens in your periphery, not by a lot but by enough to have a stoney smile cracking across your face.

"ATN is not my vice. Racist Propaganda doesn't get me as wet as it gets you, Roman."

"How convenient. I thought all Leftys held special orgys dedicated to besmirching racist propoganda."

Your response was already loaded in the back of your throat, aimed and ready to fire at Roman with reckless abandon. If it weren't for Lukas' interjection, you would have hoped to leave the little man bleeding all over Matsson's marble floors.

"You let him talk to your woman like that?" The rest of the party had left this specific ring of people behind, but that seemed okay. Everyone within the circle, the important people, were silent as Matsson turned his attention to a floundering Kendall.

"Maybe worry about your situation over there and I'll worry about mine."

"I'm not worried." Says Lukas, with a fierce stoicism that was so unique to him. Your heart rate speeds up ever so slightly as the couch groans while Lukas begins to rise. His friends each hold knowing smiles. Hungry smiles.

"Would you like to know why I'm not worried?" Asks Lukas, advancing with a slow gait. You turn your head just in time to watch Kendall's Adam's apple against his throat. He was speechless as per usual when the discussion didn't involve drugs or stock prices.

"Ask." Says Lukas as he advances. "Ask me why I'm not worried."

Upon you first meeting, you had found Lukas' height to be quite rude and unbecoming. You expected him to duck down, almost out of courtesy for the rest of the world laying low underneath him. As his shadow falls over you and Kendall, you find yourself grateful for this giant man making your boyfriend feel small for once- almost as small as you were made to feel around the Roys.

"Why aren't you worried?" Kendall's voice is still masked with confidence as he peers up at Matsson.

Matsson, who's teeth glint in the low evening light, like a hungry shark. He bends down low. You move slightly out of the way as he whispers into Kendall's ear.

"Because I'm gonna fuck her, okay?"

Absolute silence grows pregnant between the two and you're left to do nothing but watch as the exchange unfolds and Kendall's perceived control over everything and everyone unravels. His mouth opens and closes slightly while Matsson watches with a sadistic sort of pleasure in his eye…

"What the fuck did you just say to me?"

"Nothing," Says Lukas, having returned to his full height. "I didn't say anything. I just asked your-" His blue eyes darts to you and back, "-friend, if she'd like to see my bookshelf in the living room. I saw her reading Bronte earlier," Matsson shrugs, "Thought I might extend the invitation."

Lukas is not one to wait for confirmation, nor is he a man that waits for validation. He shuffles out his foyer, quite comfortably leaving present company behind with his hands stuffed in his pockets. No rebuttal from Kendall needed.

"Where the hell do you think you're going? What are you doing?" You lift yourself from the couch, ironing out the invisible creases on your plaid Chanel skirt as your eyes dart to Roman, now in idle conversation with Siobhan.

"They're just books, Kendall." You sigh softly. "You can't honestly believe I'd be any safer here." You deliver one final gaze at his lesser appealing siblings before following Matsson out of the foyer. The amount of people congesting the dark corridors lessen as you venture further into Matsson's abode. The walls are built with a dark, heavily sanded stone. Something casting a very ominous, yet unmistakably earthy glow throughout the corridor as the mouth spills into a large and defining living room. The colours are dark. The coal walls are all encompassing and Matsson stands beside a low leather couch, waiting rather awkwardly for your arrival.

"There is no library or bookshelf." He says with his hands still stuffed in the pockets of his sweats.

"I figured. You strike me as someone that would keep all their books stored on some gadget."

"Technology and leisure are the two civilizers of man," He says, watching you with bated breath as you slink around his living room, eyeing but never once prodding his things.

"Don't misquote Disraeli, it's not very attractive."

Matsson seems to relax at that, opting to take a step closer to you as he speaks, "I'll misquote Disraeli as much as I want. The 'increased means and increased leisure' part seems a little far-fetched." Your heart begins to hammer in your chance at the advancing man and you turn, whether out of cowardice or bashfulness, choosing rather to examine the sculpture along his mantle.

Your back begins to straightens as warmth radiates from him. He does not move but he cages you in. You would not be able to leave his sphere even if you wanted to.

"We don't have to fuck, obviously. It just didn't seem safe for you to stay in that situation."

You turn slowly and you find yourself slightly jarred by Matsson's proximity. His turtleneck hugs a string and definite build and the hunger in his eyes melts all inhibitions.

"I don't need saving."

"I'm talking about the little angry man." He says, referring to Roman. "I've seen your debates. It's the little nugget of American politics I find myself quite entertained by and I have no desire to wipe a Roy's blood off my floors this evening."

His words end up snapping any and all inhibition as you're throwing yourself quite mercilessly at him. The kiss is silent but so inexplicably charged allowing you to bump into various pieces of furniture in the process of pushing you up against the nearest stone wall. A wall that is cold to the touch, eliciting a surprised gasp which fuels Lukas all the more. He displays wet slobbering kisses down the nape of your neck as he murmurs drunkenly in your ear.

"I like seeing you like this. I like seeing you among my things." The conviction present in his gravelly vibrato has a pool of wetness gathering in between your legs. Your arm circles around his broad back until your pulling, rather roughly at the blonde hair curling at the nape of neck. This had consequently been a morbid mistake because his grip travels to your throat lightning fast, compressing a dangerous weight on your oesophagus as he rips his lips away from your throat.

"You don't get to do that," he says far too casually. "You don't get to assume control when you are here in my house with my things."

Matsson keeps his eye trained on you but your focus in compounded, solely, on his wandering hand tracing the hem of your skirt. "Hey, hey, hey." As you strive to keep watch of his wandering hand, Matsson moves his head into your line of vision.

"My things. Yeah? You're apart of that now."

As his hand inches underneath your skirt you're suddenly flooded with a wave of unfamiliar emotions - fear being the most poignant and defining one.

"I don't want to do this anymore-" You're not sure whether you mean it or not but you're quite certain that Matsson doesn't care. You're suddenly truly aware that you had released something you don't really know how to control.

"Bullshit, you don't want to do this anymore." You finally feel his hand sliding into your panties and your legs wavers underneath you, "Your words say stupid shit," Sings Lukas as his fingers ghost over your swollen clothes, "But your cunt just can't seem to lie." His grip on your throat tightens before relaxing as he brings your head up to his lips. "You're fucking soaked."

"I'll fucking sue you," Although you're unable to assume a single confident tone as his fingers begin to play with your cunt, "I'll fucking take you to court for fucking assault, motherfucker."

"You wanna call Kendall for assistance?" He asks, slyly pushing his middle finger deep inside you with no regard for your strangled gasp. "Here, let's call him together. Say 'Kendall!'"

The only thing able to leave your mouth is a straggled moan as Matsson keeps you pinned to the wall by the throat. The sound of your voice - so incoherent and helpless has him evading any sliver of decency he might have had. "Fuck, you're so perfect." He places a chaste kiss on your cheek before spinning you around until he is sandwiched between your body and the wall. "I have to fuck you."

"Watch the door for me," he says, pulling your hips right up against the bulge in his pants. "Watch just in case Kendall, shows up. Right, sweet girl?"

You're nodding dumbly as Lukas hunches his tall frame while grinding his bulge into your backside. He has your skirt lifted, and his shadow casted over you as he murmurs diabolical things into your ear.

"God, you're a fucking slut, you're such a fucking slut." He keeps a grip on your throat while the unoccupied hand reaches around to lift your shirt haphazardly, "No amount of smart ass comments will ever hide the fact that you're just another whore." The casual air with which he degrades has you simultaneously humping the air while you push back against his bulge. It is in that moment when he finally decides to release his aching cock from his sweatpants dotted with precum.

"Jesus Christ, feel how hard you made me. Feel how fucking turned on I am just because you decided to be a stupid slut." You can feel the head of his cock pressing into you until you're unable to hold in the desperation.

"Jesus- Lukas!"

"What? You want me to fuck you? I think you want me to fuck you but I'm not sure." You're unsure of what he's asking, too blinded by the possibility of a carefully curated orgasm.

"Go on." He says, "Ask me to fuck you. Ask me to fuck your pussy while your boyfriend waits just downstairs."

There are tears pooling in your eyes at the sheer lewdness and the unapologetic quality of this betrayal, but your mouth opens and soon, you're shakily crying out. "Please just fuck me, Lukas."

His cock rams into you with a surety that leaves you winded. He seems as if his patience had been waning as well, what with the haggard sigh that leaves his throat and the numerous disquiet groans that float in the air. Despite yourself, you do keep a half-lidded gaze on the entrance, not put off, but rather spurred on with the possibility of your boyfriend finding you being railed by his latest rival. The thought alone has you clenching around Lukas' cock with your orgasm cresting.

"Whatever you're thinking about, I'm going to need you to think about it again- you're so fucking tight."

There's an animalistic quality to the sex- being bent over for him while he rests against a wall, a firm grip on your throats and your tits as he rams himself into you again and again.

It's far too much.

You wouldn't think there was something so ruthless hiding underneath such a calm veneer but that's all it is. All it always had been. A veneer.

"You're not with him anymore, do you hear me?"

"Fuck- Lukas I'm gonna cum soon," his grip on your throat tightens until it vacuums out any and all air. Your hand encircles his wrist, begging for release but to no avail.

"Tell me," he says as he continues to fuck mercilessly into you, "Tell me you don't belong to him." He finally gives you lee-way to talk and you're gasping out your response, "I don't. I don't belong to him," he nods slightly, brows firing as he bites into your shoulders.

"Fuck- I didn't plan to cum inside you-"

"I don't fucking care- I'm really close." Lukas nods quickly before releasing your neck to drag your cheek until your faces are pressed together in a smouldering kiss. "Fuck I'm gonna cum inside you-"

His words already have you diving headfirst into a groundbreaking orgasm. You're crying out helplessly, until Matsson has enough sense to cover your mouth with one large hand. He fucks you through it, filling you with cum as he groans just as loudly as you had been.

"Fuck," he chuckles quietly, "Kendall is not going to like that."

"Kendall," You breath heavily, safely contained in Lukas' comforting grip, "Is not my Keeper."

Lukas delivers a chaste kiss on your cheek, his stubble grazing against the side of your face.

"I plan on killing them anyway." He says, simultaneously unaware and aware that he's drifting into pillowtalk.

"Every last one of them."

#lukas matsson fanfic #lukas matsson smut #lukas matsson x reader #succession fanfic #succession #kendall roy x reader #kendall roy x you #kendall roy smut #lukas matsson #succession season four #succession spoilers #succession smut #lukas matsson x you #lukas matsson x black!reader #kendall roy x black!reader

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lucywrites02 · 9 months

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The game of cat and spider Chapter 1

Main masterlist ♡ Miguel O'hara masterlist ♡ The game of cat and spider Masterlist ♡ AO3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |

A/n: And here I am with my first Miguel fanfic! I can't say how many chapters this story will have because I am still in the middle of planning out this fic. I hope you enjoy it! I am looking forward to reading your feedback :3 I will try my best and update every week

Pairing: Miguel o'hara x black cat! Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: mention on a wound and blood. There are probably some mistakes since I didn't proofread ups..

Series Summary: You are a criminal and he's a hero. You don't know each other's names, never seen the person behind the mask. You aren't enemies- you are supposed to be but that didn't work out quite well. You liked each other a bit too much, but your relationship was strictly…. Professional? What happens if you meet as normal people, with no masks and responsibilities in your way? What did the universe plan for you? And most importantly…. Will it last?

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"Here, kitty kitty." The spider-man called, chasing the town's most famous thief- the black cat. You were proud of this title- most wanted criminal in Nueva York. You worked hard to earn that and no person was gonna take that away from you. Especially not a grown us man playing dress-up at night.

It stopped raining hours ago, but the streets were still wet and slippery which meant you had to be really careful. It would be incredibly embarrassing to land on your ass and get your suit wet in front of the town's favourite superhero. Even though it was still summer, the nights got really cold sometimes. Like now. Your suit wasn't made for this kind of weather and if you weren't running you would surely be shivering. The raindrops on windows and the ground reflected the street lights, creating a cozy atmosphere. It was one of the most silent parts of the city- there weren't many cars driving at this hour and people who lived there were already asleep. A typical upper class corner. It was unusual for a metropole like Nueva York to be this quiet, that's why you liked 'working' in this neighbourhood. It was quiet. Almost relaxing. You would probably appreciate your surroundings more if it wasn't for the man in a latex bodysuit running after you.

His costume was soaked after you pushed him into the pool in someone's garden as you were fighting him off of you. The droplets made him shine a little when the light hit him at the right angle.

At first Miguel treated you like any other criminal- you were an obstacle that had to be removed- but you escaped him every damn time. O'hara was beyond furious the first few times it happened. And your flirty comments and constant teasing didn't help at all. That's why he was surprised when he noticed that he started doing that, too at some point. Chasing you became more of a hobby than responsibility and even though Miguel would never say that out loud, he kinda enjoyed it. It's been almost a year since the two of you started that little game of cat and spider and it would be a lie if Miguel said you were an enemy. You were more of a…. Miguel wasn't entirely sure what your relationship was, but you definitely didn't hate each other and even though it's Spider-man's job to capture you, he didn't actually want to do it. But you didn't have to know about that.

"Just give me the necklace back and we can call it a day." The man sighed, pretending to be irritated as you kept running away. The black cat made spider-man's job fun, but the man would never admit it. The 'fights' with you- if Miguel could even call them fights- were different. You were no villain that wanted to take over the town. Neither were you ever going to kill him just because he's spider-man. That's why Miguel actually kinda enjoyed those 'fights'. You were just a thief- a very skillful one, but still. The black cat had a sense of humour that no other person had and Miguel yearned for those interactions. It probably wasn't very hero-like to enjoy talking with a criminal, but O'hara wasn't an ordinary hero. He didn't like doing things by the 'superhero handbook'.

"Ask nicely and maybe I will" you chuckled, climbing over a wired fence. You were distracted by the man and didn't observe your surroundings well. That's why you hissed in pain as one of the wires that was standing out cut the skin on your tight, tearing your suit as well. You had to keep running, but the pain in your leg was slowing you down.

You gasped as you felt strong arms holding your shoulders from behind. Your back collided with Spider-man's broad chest. It made your head spin. Or was it because of the pain?

"Give it back, pretty please." The masked man whispered into your ear. "You will hurt yourself more if you keep running" his deep voice made shivers run down your spine.

"Pff, do you think I'm stupid?" You chuckled, turning your head to the left to get a better look at the masked man. "I worked two weeks to get this, you're not taking it away from me." You heard the spider-man sigh heavily. Your heartbeat quickened its pace and you begged it to stop. Having him touch you so firm, but yet so gentle made your knees buckle and you had enough.

For a moment your eyes met- at least that's what you thought since you couldn't really see his eyes- and you almost melted against his chest. That's when you decided it was too much and that your heart was crossing a line- how dared it make you feel weak and vulnerable?! You kicked the man's leg, taking him by surprise and fled. You heard some Spanish curses thrown your way and giggled. You run, ignoring the stinging sensation and manage to actually lose the hero. Enough adventures for one night.

You patted yourself on the shoulder for a job well done and headed back home. You arrived at an alley behind your apartment complex- that's where you hid a backpack with a simple hoodie and sweatpants. It would be weird if you entered the building as the black cat. You liked risks, but you would never compromise your private life. It was important to keep your secret identity a secret- that was the whole point of the word 'secret'. The neighbours wouldn't be happy to know you're a criminal- they already complained that your cat runs around the apartment complex unsupervised as if that was their biggest concern.

And it wasn't like you were really a criminal! Well, technically you were- stealing is a crime- but it's not like you were doing that for selfish reasons! You almost never keep the money from your heists to yourself. In the eye of the public you are an honourable person- an angel that supports charities, animal shelters and orphanages. They never ask where the money came from- they are simply happy they are getting some support. You still did some petry crime sometimes. Like that one time when some business guy was being rude to a waitress so you stole his wallet. Or that one time where you broke into the house of your best friend's ex boyfriend and stole his watch collection because he cheated on her. The point was that you only stole from bad people. And as everyone knows stealing from the rich is not a crime.

That spider-man guy didn't know about it, of course. You never told him why you are stealing and he didn't really have to know. It was fun to be chased by him- at the very beginning of your journey as the black cat you would always get an adrenaline kick from your robberies. But after a while it wasn't as thrilling anymore… you have gotten too good at cracking safes open and hacking security systems. It became so monotonous and simply not exciting. And then the spider-man came. The masked man made your 'side job' fun again. You got to steal from the rich, give to the poor and get chased by a charismatic hero in a tight latex costume. You never knew when he would appear, meaning you always had to be on your toes. But when he finally showed up, oh boy was it fun. You were worried at first, thinking he was capable enough to capture you, but thankfully you were wrong. The masked man was capable, of course, but not enough to get you. He was definitely a challenge and that's why you were determined to never get caught by him. You were sure that at some point he started enjoying those interactions, too.

You swore under your breath, looking for the keys to your apartment's door in the pockets of your hello kitty themed backpack. The blood coming from your tight soaked into the grey sweatpants you wore over your suit and if one of your nosy neighbours saw you like that you would never hear the end of it. And if they saw the shiny necklace in your bag they would bombard you with questions and gossip about it later. Finally after what felt like eternity you found the keys and with a relieved smile you opened the door. You could still feel his touch on your body…

You were greeted by the loud meowing of your beloved cat, Migsy.

"Yeah, I missed you too, baby" You chuckled, gently patting her head. "I will give you all my love when I patch myself up." You sighed heavily and headed to the bathroom. Your apartment wasn't really big- you had a bathroom, kitchen, living room and a bedroom with a little balcony attached to it. It was enough for you. Determined to make this house a home you spent hours painting the murals on your walls and decorating them with your art and photos. People loved spending time in your apartment- it was so green and fresh because of all the plants scattered across the floor. You always took good care of them and even gave them names. It might have been childish, but it made you happy and that was the only thing that mattered.

You would love nothing but to collapse on your green bubble couch and watch some shitty TV, but you had to take care of yourself first. There was no one else who could do that for you.

The rest of your night was filled with frustrated sobs as you stitched yourself up and the sound of music playing in the background that you put on to calm your nerves. The music didn't help though and you were still a nervous mess. Your head was filled with many thoughts about the man behind the spider-man mask. This little game the two of you played was getting dangerous. You realised it one night after you dreamed about kissing him- you told yourself it was nothing more than a silly crush to make yourself feel better. The man was very attractive after all. At least his body was because you have never seen his face. And that was another one of your problems- you yearned to know who he was behind the mast. Were his eyes brown or green? Did he have dimples when he smiled? Would his lips feel good against yours?

"Meow!" Migsy's cry snapped you out of your daydream.

"Oh, yeah, sorry baby," you apologised, quickly bandaging your wound. "I'm all yours now." You gave your furry roommate a gentle smile and picked her up. "It's time for us to sleep, don't you think?" You talked to the cat and she looked at you with her pretty yellow eyes.

You laid down on your bed, hugging the animal closer you your chest and her soft purring made you relax into the cold pillow.

You fell asleep, hoping that the Spider-man won't visit you in your dreams this time.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ chapter 2 ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Tag list: @serpentstarr @bucketluvr @nxrdamp

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 x reader

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blackterrae · 8 months

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Ideas for Black!Reader Fic

I am going to try my hand again at writing. And I wanted to share some people and fandoms that I love. If you don’t know these shows/actors/franchises/movies/streamers I’m putting you on! For the following:

Johnny Depp- All his characters

Cameron Monaghan- I know that there are fics out there but it’s only always his Jerome/Jeremiah roles never just him or Cal Kestis

Anthony Carrigan- I loved Anothy as Victor Zsasz

Paul Dano- There are Riddler fics but not as many for his other roles

The Entire Cast of Hawaii Five-0 (2010) - Don’t even get me started on how good this show is! And the cast looks amazing!

Chicago Med/Fire/PD- These shows have so much potential for fanfic storylines!

The Game (2006)- Has great potential for slow burns and fluffs.

Star Wars franchise (1977-present) - I know I said Cal Kestis but there are also other characters like Anakin, Luke, Obi Wan,Boba Fett (etc.)

NCIS franchise- I honestly love this franchise and it’s characters!

Hamilton

Any/All Sports Men- Jude Bellingham,Lewis Hamilton,LaMelo Ball,Allen Iverson(etc.)

Berleezy - He’s handsome and he’s funny!

Coryxkenshin- I literally love him and his videos!

Albert Aretz (Flamingo)- Look … he may be the epitome of mediocre white man but I like what I like!

AMP- Duke Dennis, Kai Cenat, Agent 00, ChrisNxtDoor,Davis, and Fanum ( all I gotta say is love a black man from infinity to infinity🗣️)

Beta Squad- A British YouTube/ streamer group!

SOMEBROS- Berleezy, Rico, ,PG, Joe (etc.)

WWE- come on now, do I even need to explain!!!

Four Brothers- All the cast but Garrett Hedland in particular!

Peacemaker - Don’t get me wrong I love Adrian Chase but I want to see just as much Peacemaker x black!reader fics because 2 words… JOHN CENA

MAWS- New animated Superman show! Love!

Smallville - The entire cast is hot! Tbh I fell hard for Tom Welling when I was younger when he was in Cheaper By The Dozen. Plus they literally whitewashed Vixen. COME ON! Vixen is a black female hero btw. She was also with Jon (Green Lantern) at one point.

Justice League/Justice League Unlimited (2001 and 2004)- I mean I literally can’t find any Jon Stewart x black!reader fics and he was with a BLACK WOMAN!

Warner Bros Franchise (minus the looney tunes & space jam)- There are lots of popular franchises that this company has from Fast & Furious to The Matrix!

Peaky Blinders- Saw a Tommy shelby x arms dealer black!female reader fic on my previous account but even then I couldn’t find it again on that account. So it’s gone with the wind. And the cast (i.e the actors and other characters they’ve portrayed). Example: Cillian Murphy as Johnathan Crane.

The Bear

FBI (All)

Vinnie Hacker

Tiktokers

Blue Bloods

Will Poulter- I haven’t really seen any Adam Warlock fics

Slashers

Stranger Things

Dave Lizewski

Eddie Redmayne

Macgyver (2016)

Fresh Prince of Belair

Guardians of the galaxy- Explanation? Do I really need one?

On My Block

Descendants (characters will be the actors age in real life.duh)- Love Boo-boo Stewart & Mitchell Hope!

Matt Rife

Joey Bragg (Liv &Maddie) - What can I say I love dorks!

The Boys- Haven’t seen that many fics about the characters and a black reader

Once Upon A Time- I love dark fairytales sometimes because they remind me that not every story has a happy ending and you have to learn from them. But this series is good for any theme really.

Walker Texas Ranger (1993)

Top Gun

Magcon: Whether you saw their vines on YouTube or vine, you know who they are

Dolan Twins

Mission Impossible

Euphoria- Entire show has great storylines with the potential of drama in fics

Shameless- Especially Carl Gallagher and Lip Gallagher

Creed- Michael B Jordan need I say more

Keanu Reeves- There are very few fics about Keanu but I’ve seen a few of his John Wick x black!reader fics (chef’s kiss) but never see any of The Matrix Fics!Also Ted (Bill & Ted)

River Phoenix

Batman Beyond

Rider Strong

Danny Gonzalez

Timothée Chalamet

New York Undercover

Past-Present Singers & Rappers/ Groups -Bow Wow, Tupac, Lil Baby, Nelly, Omarion, Prince, Michael Jackson, Jon B,Usher, Central Cee, Måneskin, New Edition, BTS, James Bay(etc.)

Anime(Any kind!)- Would love to see other shows, I know hunterxhunter,aot,one piece (etc.)

Bridgerton- There is very little Bridgerton stories catered around a black reader.

Marvel- Now that’s not to say that there aren’t any in fact there are many but I never see (Tobey Maguire Spider-Man stories and it seems like everyone tends to focus on the famous Marvel characters like The Avengers but not on other aspects like X-men or better yet, heroes that haven’t even gotten their own movie but are just as amazing like Squadron Supreme , it’s equivalent to DCU’s Justice League.

Secret Invasion- Not gonna lie , I’m feening for Gravik.😳

DCEU- Another franchise that pushes its other characters to the side. For example, Hush (Thomas Elliot) is literally the epitome of Bruce Wayne gone bad!

Ross Lynch- There are so many roles that Ross did so well in Like Teen Beach Movie or Sabrina.

Highschool Musical Franchise (2006- present ) I’m not just talking about HSMTS (2019), I mean even further back than that. I don’t see any Troy Bolton x black!reader and that’s crazy. I also can’t find any Zac Efron x black!reader

Interview with a Vampire (1994) and (2022)

Austin Butler- He did well in his role as Elvis!

Vikings - There are a good amount but still!

Transformers

Suits

Saved By The Bell

The Goldbergs

Parks & Recreation

Leverage

The Outsiders

Heart of Stone

New York Undercover (1994)

Addams Family

Victorious

Matpat

ICarly

The Real Bros of Simi Valley (2017)

Think Like A Man (2012)

One on One (2001)

Scorpion (2014)

The King of Queens (1998)

G.I. Joe Franchise

Terminator

Beware the Batman (2013)

Any and all Asian Idols/Actors

Seal Team

Mortal Combat

Bill and Ted

Barbie

Detroit: Become Human

Will Trent

Tokyo Vice

Growing Pains

Graceful Family (Kdrama)[Any Asian Drama shows or movies would be great as well]

The Regime

Batman: The animated series

If anyone needs ideas for these franchises/movies/shows/actors , then holla at me! I got you!

Also add more to the list if anything that you would like to see comes to mind.

Also tag black writers who you want to see this!

@sheabuttahwrites @shinsouscatpisssmell @cocoamoonmalfoy @heathenarmyimagines @cinewhore @cocoamoonmalfoy @stxxllaaa @glitterjuju @lilvampirina @breanime @blackmissfrizzle @afro-hispwriter @stargirlfics @lavenderursa @clydesducktape @pettyprocrastination @theblvckvenus @plantvenuss @punani @n-slayaaaaa @infernalodie @halfofmysoulsblog @iridecsense @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @supremethunda @thekrazykeke @canumoveurseatup-no @hiatuswhore @avintagekiss24 @ohcaptains @iguessweallcrazyithinktho @xsapphirescrollsx @sunflowertuliplily @bakarilennox @batfamily14 @ramp-it-up @blackreaders-assemble @royallyprincesslilly @funnyexel @blackterrae @slashisms @artemisthewh0re @shelbydelrey @toocriticalharlow @v-era-18 @vampsired @queenimmadolla @sinnerlillith @greengoblinswifey @apocalypse-shuffle

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valaenatargaryensdragon · 1 year

Note

Hey can u do one more about stepdaughter x daemon where she had enough of Rhaenyra and her jealous. They argue and she just call her mother a jealous Bitch and Rhaenyra insult one of the kids and daughter slap her. Daemon arrive just in time to see the slap. Stepdaughter is furious with her mother and even daemon is kind of scared of her.

A/N: I hope you like it!

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Stepdaughter!Reader

summary: where she had enough of Rhaenyra and her jealous. They argue and she just call her mother a jealous Bitch and Rhaenyra insult one of the kids and daughter slap her. Daemon arrive just in time to see the slap. Stepdaughter is furious with her mother and even daemon is kind of scared of her.

Word count: 1,2K

Warnings: Angst, slight fluff

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

"Your grace, Princess Rhaenyra is asking for your presence" The handmaiden spoke. You sighed tiredly hugging Baeron close to your body, you have barely had time to spend with your own children because of your mother, it seems she's finding duties out of thin air and giving them to you leaving you busy all day and when you are done your children are fast asleep and you have no energy to move a singular muscle.

You had just finished breaking your fast with your children, Daemon was out training with Jace and Luce. Jacaella looked at you with teary eyes, you had promised her to spend the day with her and her siblings, out in the gardens playing all kind of games she wished for and eating all the cakes her heart desired.

"Tell her I will come at once" You dismissed the maid, she curtsied and left to deliver your message.

"But Muña-" Jacaella whined pushing back her chair to stand to her full height. Maelon followed suit in support of his older sister.

"Hush darling, I will be back in no time" You handed Baeron to his wet nurse. Pushing back your chair with a tired huff but still with a smile on your face. You walked over to your daughter, crouching down to be on the same level as her.

"I promise to be back soon" You pulled her in for a hug seeing as her bottom lip wobbled and tear rolled down her cheek. She hugged you back tightly, as if you won't see each other for a whole year.

Pulling away with a heavy heart you moved out of the room with your handmaiden as company, you were determined to shut whatever your mother had in mind today, you had not seen your children properly for over a moon now. She was doing this doing all of this, causing you exhaustion and physical pain, in hopes of Daemon joining her bed instead of yours but it did not seem to be working as she had intended. From the very first day Daemon remained dutifully by your side, messaging your sore muscles and applying ointment on the blisters you got, even on the nights he spent with her he would sneak to check on you.

When you walked into your mother's room you noticed the lack of your younger brothers and the silence that filled the room. She was stood by the bed with a cup of wine in hand sipping slowly from it, waiting for you.

"Daughter" She greeted coldly once she noticed your presence in the room. She moved closer to you leaving little space in between you two.

"There are some letters from Lords all around Westeros and beyond, I presume most are well wishes for my upcoming nameday, be a dear and help me with them" She pointed at her desk where at least a hundred letters sat, if you were to read every single one and answer them yourself it may take a day or two and if she were to help you it would take a day, which you doubted.

"I have to decline mother, I am busy today" You crossed your arms in front of you, putting up and armour around yourself, an armour of strong will.

"Tis your duty daughter, you are in line to inherit the throne" She pointed out. Her eyes gleamed with frustration.

"If I were to read every single letter a lord or lady sent and answer them myself I would grow grey hair by the time I am to see my children again" You hissed. She smirked at you, taking a sip of her wine to hide her amused chuckle which fuelled your anger.

"I promised Jacaella to spend the day with her and I do not intend to break that promise" You excused. She placed the cup of wine on a nearby table, her smirk hardened and her jaw ticked.

"Your dimwitted child can wait" She sneered nastily. That was it for you, no one spoke ill of your child and lived to see the sun of the next day, although she was your mother you did not let it slid. A crack of skin meeting skin harshly echoed around the room in parallel to your palm meeting her cheek forcing her head to snap to the side.

"I have had enough of whatever tantrum you have been throwing!-" Your mother's hand rose to touch her throbbing cheek still staring at the wall, her brain had not comprehended what had happened.

"-for the past moon I barely saw my children because of you and your jealousy. I could not even bid them goodnight from the amount of duties you have given me and I stayed quiet-" You were fuming mad, your face had turned into a shade of red and your eyes were widened with anger. Spit flew everywhere as you yelled and your body shook from the furry you buried inside for so long. She turned to look at you, hand still over her red cheek and tears in her eyes. "-I stayed quiet because you are my mother and princess but you have the audacity to bad mouth my daughter, your own granddaughter may i add, I will not stay quiet" You took a threatening step closer to her. She stayed put glaring back at you but you could see a glimmer of fear behind her lashes peaking through like a ray of sun after a storm.

"If you speak about my daughter ever again whether it was good or bad intend then rest assured I will not only rip out your tongue but also I will kill you so slow you would regret the day you slithered out of your mother's body like the jealous snake you are" You pointed a finger in her chest. She was panting attempting to push back the tears of pain from the slap, and the sting of your words but you could not care.

A hand rested on your shoulder making you snap your head back to look at the person who dared interrupt the fight but softened when you saw Daemon standing behind you, sweaty from the training and his hair all over the place, you had missed seeing him like this.

"Jacaella is asking for you my love" You could see the glint of pride in his eyes, his chest puffed out more than usual and a smirk decorated his handsome face causing your heart to skip a beat. But he was still cautious with his approach, not overstepping almost like he feared you.

"Of course, I will attend to my daughter at once" You pulled away from him. Throwing your mother one last glare before storming off to find your children.

They were in the gardens waiting for you. jacaella's face brightened at the sight of you and you could have sworn she grew wings and flew into your arms from how fast she ran. Daemon joined the lot of you a while later with Aegon and Viserys. The gardens were quiet and peaceful as the sun shone down on you and the sound of the ocean meeting the sanded shores of Dragonstone echoed around you. Your children's laughter along with your brothers' would never leave your head, a relaxing picnic with the people you loved most in the world with no jealous snakes around was all you asked for, for the day.

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portaltothevoid · 5 months

Text

God Called In Sick Today — Chapters 1 & 2

Summary: It’s the ghafia fic you didn’t know you needed… When a mission goes south, Copia is left scrambling to figure out a plan to get the mayor-to-be in favor of the Emeritus family. That’s where Arianna Diodati, the Mafia Princess of his (very Catholic) rival, comes in. He plans to use her as a bargaining chip to get what he wants. Did he place the right bet or did he take more than he bargained for?

Word count: 5.8k ~//~ Warnings: mafia au, copia x oc, death/murder, gun usage, angst, physically and verbally abusive relationship, domestic violence (between oc x oc), (brief, almost subtle) dacryphilia, kidnapping, dark copia, cliffhanger, enemies to lovers, slow burn

A/N: Surprise! It's a double feature! Fair warning, the next chapters won’t be up til I have a few under my belt so that they can be posted regularly and since I’m still working on You’re Losing Me as well… it might be a while. But I am so so excited for this, that I had to give you all a taste! Massive, massive thank you to @fishwithtitz @da-rulah and @copias-juicebox for beta reading and listening to me talk about this non-stop as I worked out the plot 🖤(photos in mood board all found on pintrest and dividers by @gothdaddyissues!)

Chapter One -- The Sermon and The Plan

It was never a good sign when Papa Emeritus IV demanded a mandatory mass that wasn’t on Sunday. Usually, meetings such as this would be for the upper echelon of the clergy and the Ghouls, but this time around, every single member of the Satan’s Ministry was in attendance. No one dared speak or even look away from their Papa as he stood, eyeing everyone in the room like the disappointed father he was.

Those in the front row could hear his leather gloves squeak against the oak of the pulpit as he gripped it like a stress ball. His unique set of eyes, one green and one white, focused on one specific Ghoul. His expression darkened like an approaching storm, which made for his already intimidating skull-painted face to become menacing. As for the Ghoul, if it weren’t for the silver-horned mask covering his face, even Papa would have seen the beads of sweat dripping down the sides of it. He knew he was the reason everyone was here and why Papa looked beyond furious. He knew it the moment he saw the blue and red flashing lights at the docks.

“As most of you know,” the Satanic pope began, “our latest operation was thwarted by carelessness. All of you deserve to know why, but first, it isn’t a true Mass without a sermon, hm?”

He clasped his hands behind his back as he turned to walk to his right, addressing those in the pews in front of him. “Pride and greed. Two sins that often go hand in hand. Sins which we celebrate here. It seems I need to remind you all that the celebration of sin, any sin, does not give one a free pass to do whatever the fuck they want, eh?”

He turned again, to walk to the other side of the sanctuary. “Every coin has two sides. At what point does living in sin, celebrating sins, become a hindrance?

“Pride. An excessive belief in one’s abilities. Pride can make one think they are untouchable. Pride is the sin that pushes us to achieve greatness not just in the name of Satan, but for ourselves. And there, we find greed. A desire for wealth, for gain. But, again I ask you all, when does celebrating these glorious sins become a hindrance?”

Now, he was in front of the pulpit. Leaning against it was a cane, something he only brought out for show or to inflict pain. While he was addressing everyone, his dichromatic eyes landed on the trembling Ghoul in the center. “Excessive or grandiose sinning becomes a deterrent when it puts the lives of others at risk, when it puts an institution, a family, that you’ve devoted your life to at risk.” Grabbing the cobra head handle, Papa gracefully jumped down to walk in front of the first row. “Many of you are aware of a mission we set out on recently. A mission to save helpless women and children from a sex-trafficking ring. There also was to be an exchange of money. These degenerates were exchanging quite a large sum of money for this transaction. Those prisoners were denied the choice of freedom we offer here. We were denied what was to be used as payment to put the malleable Gregory Osorio in our corner. We have very little time to come up with this sum to get a powerful, up and coming politician in our corner. One who could turn votes in our favor. One who would look out for us. One who would defiantly oppose the Diodati dickheads.

“This mission was not successful. By the time our Ghouls arrived, the prisoners were ‘rescued’ by the police. The money – that should have been ours – confiscated. I know many have wondered how this could have happened. Well, children, the answer is simple.

“Pride… and greed…” he spoke slowly, as he walked down the center aisle, dragging his cane along the ends of the pews. “Someone felt too secure in themselves… Felt they could just… open their fucking mouth to anyone who would fucking listen… while not realizing… They were fraternizing with an informant for the enemy.” He paused his promenade. “This was not a simple mistake. This was blatant negligence from someone who I know, for a fact, knew better. This Ghoul broke our Sacramentum Secreti (Oath of Secrecy).” He began walking again. His cane hit a pew with every word. “Internal problems will be dealt with.”

He stopped. Everyone turned to look at Papa, except for one Ghoul. Papa reached over, using the tip of his cane to force him to look at his figurehead, his boss. With a look that could kill and a wave of his hand, he indicated the Ghoul to walk in front of him back up to the sanctuary.

After twenty paces, “Ghoul, you seem to be limping. I wonder why that is… Is it because your pain and suffering is a message from La Famiglia Diodati?” he remarked snidely.

When Papa planted himself behind the pulpit, he pointed the cane to indicate a spot on the ground. “Kneel,” he commanded. On shaky legs, the Ghoul did as he was told.

Papa dragged his gaze up to the choir loft before him, where one of his best Ghouls was waiting for the signal. Painstakingly slow, he looked back at the insurrectionist. “Per aspera, ad inferi,” he prayed. Again, he made eye contact with the one in the choir loft, giving a solitary nod.

In the blink of an eye, the Ghoul to Papa’s right jolted back slightly, a red dot forming in the center of his forehead. As deep burgundy liquid dripped from it, the congregation gasped, and the Ghoul toppled forward onto his masked face with a deafening thud.

Papa bowed his head, but his eyes passed over everyone clutching their rosary beads in front of him. Somehow, this look was more sinister than it was at the start. “Let it be known that internal problems will be dealt with,” he paused dramatically, “by whatever means necessary.”

And with that, he turned heel and left through the back door, concluding mass.

“Do we really need Osorio this time around? Putting our efforts into driving back the Diodatis would be more beneficial,” Secondo, the second oldest Emeritus, argued. The highest members of the clergy and of the Emeritus family were gathered in their meeting room reserved for familial “business” matters.

A leather clad fist slammed on the dark cherry wood table. “And what the fuck do you think getting Osorio on our payroll would do?” Papa snapped. Secondo just rolled his eyes in response. “We’re running out of fucking time.”

“There’s that charity gala, or whatever the fuck, tomorrow. I could just use my lascivious charm to reel in Osorio,” Papa’s predecessor and brother, Terzo, waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Papa pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning back in his luxurious leather office chair.

“Copia, he actually–and it pains me to admit this–might be onto something. That gala could be a way in,” the eldest Emeritus agreed as he pressed his elbows into the table, his fingers interlacing in front of him, as he stared down his youngest brother and the church’s current Papa.

Terzo waved his hand and his smirk deepened with Primo proving his idea had some merit.

“We have nothing to give Osorio! The whole point of that mission was to dangle that money in his face,” Copia countered.

“So instead we ask him his price,” Terzo shrugged nonchalantly.

“How many of Sal’s men will be there?”

“I believe just his right-hand, Alessio Fidanza and his fiancée and probably only a handful of his associates,” Primo relayed.

Copia’s eyebrows shot up at the mention of the fiancée. “Isn’t that Sal’s daughter? The prim and proper Mafia princess?”

“Sì.”

“For what it’s worth, my advice as your consigliere would be to attend this gala for recon purposes only. Yes, our time is running out, but we still have time to sway Osorio.” For the first time an older woman, who everyone called Sister Imperator, spoke up. She had been keenly observing Copia’s every move, just as any mother would her son, carefully watching knowing he was especially volatile right now.

“And Sal, what about him? He’ll be there too?” Copia asked, ignoring the woman beside him.

“As far as we know, yes.”

A wicked, devilish smile spread across Copia’s face, exaggerating the black paint reminiscent of a rat’s skull around his mouth.

“No… Copia, what are you thinking?” Sister Imperator asked hesitantly. She knew that look. They all did.

“Oh we’ll get some information. We will find out Osorio’s price and we will get Diodati’s attention.”

“Elaborate, brother,” Secondo said wearily. They knew Copia had just hatched a plan and from the look on his face, it was going to be far from easy.

“Diodati thinks he has the upper hand, sì? We can kill two birds with one stone. Show him who has the power here and get the money from him to pay off Osorio so those Catholic fucks can’t use God as a basis for politics.”

“And how exactly… would we do that? Are we intercepting one of their shipments or–” Sister Imperator began to ask hesitantly until she was cut off.

“It’s simple,” Copia stated. He leaned back in his chair casually this time, his elbows perched on the chair’s arm rests. He waved his hands in front him as if he was presenting a physical idea. “We kidnap la Principessa di Dio.”

Chapter Two -- You Should Be Scared

The last thing Arianna Diodati wanted to do was attend some pompous charity event chained to her fiancé wearing a designer dress she hated and a fake smile. She thanked God that she didn’t have to endure the after parties; she could retreat to solitude and her husband-to-be could do whatever (and most likely whomever) he wanted there. Not knowing what happened at those parties used to ruminate in her mind like a catchy pop song… until she actually found out.

The infidelity bothered her at first, caused her to lose sleep at night, and question her worth. She used to be confrontational. She used to stick up for herself. She used to care. Arianna learned the hard way that Alessio Fidanza never actually wanted her or truly loved her. Maybe at first he did, but as time marched on, she came to realize the only thing he cared about was having an in with the most illustrious mafia family in New York City. The closer he got to her, the closer he got to Arianna’s father aka the boss of the Diodati family, and the higher up in the ranks he rose, the less he paid her any attention – or respect. In less than a handful of years Alessio was promoted as Salvatore Diodati’s right hand man. He learned the ropes, got enough blood on his hands, and eventually helped call the shots. She was used to her father dictating her life, but now, finding herself under the thumb of another man? There were only two things she could do: watch her life pass her by from behind barred windows and pray to God someone would eventually notice (and care enough about) her imprisonment to save her.

Nevertheless, she admired herself in the mirror; for once, she wore a dress that made her feel confident. Her black cherry red curls cascaded around her face. For a moment, she could see a sparkle, or a glimmer of hope, returning in her hazel eyes as she noted how the asymmetrical dress framed her body perfectly. Satin jersey panels on the two thirds of the dress accentuated her curves as it snaked down the length of it. It draped up, slightly off one shoulder while the other was a simple strap clad with the subtle (yet signature) Versace Medusa emblem. That side of the dress was a simple satin. A slit allowed one of her toned legs to peek through adding an air of sexy sophistication to the look. She was almost smiling until she heard her fiancé behind her.

“You’re wearing that tonight?” And with that snide question, the sparkle in her eye dimmed once more, returning to their usual lackluster shine.

“Um, yes? I showed it to you, remember? You said it would be fine…” she said hesitantly, her voice dancing on eggshells, and her small smile fading.

Alessio scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Do you think I pay attention to half the stuff you show me? If I saw something like that, I would have remembered. Wear the other Versace dress. The one I had Roberta pick up for you.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Specifically for tonight,” he added, his tone proving he had little patience for her tonight.

“But what’s wrong with this one? It’s not like it’s–”

He sprung at her, his nostrils flaring as he gripped her arms tighter than a blood pressure cuff. She fought back the tears that pricked in her eyes. “You look like one of Satan’s whores. Now,” he spoke through gritted teeth, “put on the other dress.” He shoved her back, her arms flew out to find purchase on the dresser beside her so she wouldn’t fall. The few perfume bottles that toppled over made an almost deafening sound amongst the tension. Her breathing was ragged as she glared at him. His look back at her served as a warning.

She never understood how someone who claimed to be so devoted to God could be so evil, but she had to trust God’s plan for her. This all had to serve a purpose, didn’t it?

Her eyes closed as she composed herself, doing her best to stuff down the ever-raging storm of anger that lately seemed to be constantly brewing inside her. “Yes, Alessio. It’s the one still in the garment bag?”

Slowly he rolled his head up to look at the ceiling, before bringing it back to glare at her. “Obviously, you dumb bitch. Hurry up and get fucking changed. I can’t afford to be late tonight because of you,” he spat as he walked out of their room.

Once more, she took a deep shuddering breath, her whole body trembling on the exhale. Stepping out of her preferred dress, she left the almost four thousand dollar garment lying crumpled on the floor.

Now as she looked at herself in the mirror again, she saw a stranger she didn’t even recognize despite the only thing that physically had changed was her dress. She noted how her eyes seemed more hollow. The color in her face had paled. There was nothing but a stranger who once had dreams and ambition staring back at her. None of this felt real.

The worst part of it all was that under any other circumstances, she would have loved wearing this. It was a black viscose material. A slim-fitting, hooded crêpe dress with a plunging V-neckline that was much more revealing than her own choice, but this one had long sleeves and went down to her mid-calf. There was a criss-cross belt also adorned with Versace’s Medusa logo, only this one was more prominent than the one on her choice of dress.

She let out a humorless laugh as she adjusted the long sleeves. All she wanted tonight was to feel confident, to show off some skin, because things had been relatively quiet as of late. Alessio was kept busy, his attention divided elsewhere. For the first time in a while, her arms didn’t look like an abstract painting.

If she had been the one to pick out this dress, her sentiments towards it would have been different. She didn’t want to hide, but this was what Alessio wanted her to wear. There was no way around that unless she wanted to pay the price. Letting out a heavy sigh, she put the hood up. This dress felt like the most high end and lavish prison jumpsuit. No one would know how much it felt like she was wearing shackles, a stark reminder that her choices were never own. But at least tonight she wouldn’t have to come up with a lie to explain the fresh bruises on her arms.

A single tear slid down her face, which she quickly wiped away. With a shake of her head, she put her emotions under lock and key, tucking it away into a dark corner of her mind. She practiced her million dollar smile and nodded to herself, putting her shoulders back and her chest out –a mirage of confidence and happiness– and made her way to the Bentley that was waiting for her.

No matter the formal event, the routine was almost always the same. Arianna would find her father, talk to and dance with who he (or Alessio) told her to, have two strong drinks (but no more than that or else she’d have to deal with a very irate Alessio), fake pleasantries with the other ladies who were just as much a prisoner to this life as she was, then once the crowd began thin, could she retreat. Tonight would be no different. At least, that's what she had assumed.

She greeted her father with a kiss on the cheek. “Arianna, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” he father said, ushering over to a man that was just about six or seven years older than her. He looked just like everyone else here like he came from money and would stop at nothing to get more. “Greg, this is my daughter, Arianna. Arianna, this is Gregory Osorio, our soon to be Mayor.”

This Greg guy let out a low whistle as he looked Arianna up and down. “Sal, you weren’t kidding. She is absolutely stunning. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard so many things about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” she said with a smile that would never quite reach her eyes.

“Oh, absolutely! Your dress looks like it was made for you. Ah, how do you say it… You look… bellissima!”

“You’re too kind. Alessio convinced me to wear this tonight. I have to give all the credit to him,” she laughed, keeping up the ruse of niceties as Alessio dug his fingers into her side. It was his retaliation for the subtle jab she just made at him, even though these people would never ever know that it was.

“Fidanza, you are a lucky man!”

“I thank God everyday for her,” Alessio said, giving one more bruise-worthy squeeze on Arianna’s waist. He dropped his hand when everyone’s attention snapped towards the door. The group that had just arrived turned heads as they sauntered in.

“Who invited those Emeritus fucks?” Sal snapped.

“Copia put a call in himself to my office about a sizable donation for tonight. I figured if he's willing to be a top donor–perhaps even the top donor tonight–they might as well enjoy some of the festivities, no?” Osorio responded cautiously. “If you’ll excuse me, Sal…”

They exchanged nods as Gregory meandered through the crowd. Sal snapped his fingers. “I want eyes on them. They’re fucking up to something. Never once have they given a shit about things like this.”

“On it, boss,” one of his men said before he disappeared amongst the throng of people.

Arianna never liked the Emeritus family. In fact, she borderline hated them with their menacingly painted faces and blasphemous way of life. She never quite understood how they rose to rival that of her family. Perhaps they really did make a deal with the devil.

“I’m going to grab a drink,” she said quietly. Alessio just waved her off, her father already in a passionate discussion regarding something she couldn’t care less about.

She made her way to the bar, getting the attention of one of the bartenders. “Your usual, Ms. Diodati?”

“Yes, please,” she smiled.

It wasn’t long until she felt a pair of eyes on her from the other end of the bar. She looked up to see Copia, the ringleader of the Satanic circus, staring her down like a hunter watching its prey. It sent a shiver down her spine, but all he saw was the scowl that encapsulated her face. That only made him smirk at her.

She rolled her eyes in disgust, looking away from him. Out of the corner of her eye, though, when she knew his attention was back on someone that wasn’t her, she couldn’t help herself from taking in his appearance. She hated to admit, he looked… elegant. His burgundy pants were impossibly tight in all the right ways. It pained her to acknowledge the way they perfectly hugged his thighs. He had foregone his suit jacket, leaving just his matching burgundy vest and black dress shirt and tie. His sleeves were rolled up and she could see his muscles flex as he grabbed his drink.

Her eyes lingered for a few seconds too long. This time, he caught her watching him. His mouth curled up again into a sly half-smile as he took a drink. His dichromatic eyes never left her. The instant her drink hit the counter, she brought it to her lips and weaved her way through everyone back to Alessio in hopes of putting distance between her and whatever exchange had just taken place.

Shortly after she resumed her role as the token arm candy she was, did her father tense up when a leather clad hand slapped his shoulder. “Salvatore! Come stai (how are you)?”

“Copia,” he greeted stiffly. “To what do we owe this… surprise?” The words rolled off his tongue as if they made his skin crawl.

“Can’t a man just be willing to support a good cause such as this?”

Sal’s only response was to purse his lips. Copia was reveling in the fact that just his presence alone was getting under his enemy’s skin. “Say, Copia, did you hear about the girls that were rescued from trafficking by the docks the other day?” A condescending smirk now replaced the sour look on his face.

Copia’s eyes darkening was the only acknowledgement of Sal’s jab he let slip. “Ah, yes, thank the Gods below they’ve been transferred from one prison to another, being treated as criminals instead of victims.”

“Well, a whore contained is better than a whore on the street.”

Copia laughed sneeringly. “Ah, and I’m sure by whore, you mean a two-bit one. Tell me, though, what are the plans after this? Anyone escorting you to the after party?” he smirked as it was Sal’s turn for his expression to darken.

Arianna didn’t realize she was watching this with bated breath, or that she was clinging to Alessio until he shook her off him. Copia's eyes immediately darted to Arianna’s fiancé breaking free of her almost death grip to take a step towards him. “You know, since you’re here, a thanks is in order,” Alessio said cunningly. “Those girls couldn’t have been saved without the helpful information one of your soldiers let slide right off his tongue. I’ve gotta say, that was a lucky group of girls.”

“Life’s just a game of luck, isn’t it?” Sal chimed in with a shrewd smile directed at Copia.

“And I thank you as well, gentlemen, for helping me shed some dead weight.” The tenison grew thick as the flames of their rivalry were fanned with each remark. “But, a real man makes his own luck.” He casted a quick astute glance with an accompanying nod to Sal before he turned to directly face Arianna. “Perdonami,” he murmured gently, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. “Arianna, e come stai stasera, principessa (and how are you tonight, princess)?”

Her heart thumped wildly against her sternum and her eyes flashed nervously over to Alessio. She knew somehow this man’s unprompted actions would be her fault. Both men noted immediately how her body stiffened. One was amused by her fear while the other felt a pang of pity. “Bene, grazie (good, thank you),” she piped up meekly.

“Would it be alright if I stole la bella donna (the beautiful woman) for just one dance?” he asked the two men beside him, only taking his eyes off Arianna for a mere second.

Giving Alessio a slap on the back, “She’s practically yours now, son. That’s your call to make,” her father laughed as he walked off towards the bar.

Arianna widened her eyes, begging Alessio to say no. Rolling his lips between his teeth as he pondered his decision quickly. He nodded, another sly smile curling the edges of his mouth. “One song wouldn’t hurt, eh? Careful though, she’s a pistol. Hope you can handle her. Lord knows some days I barely can.”

Copia laughed dryly. “I think someone of my stature knows how to handle one of those quite well,” he challenged, ushering Arianna away quickly.

Alessio reached out and grabbed her by the arm, just like he had earlier, turning her towards him. She inhaled sharply through gritted teeth at the pain as he had constricted her already tender bruises. “I’ll be waiting by the bar for you,” he hummed as his eyes flicked back and forth between Arianna and her new dance partner, before they lingered on her. She knew that look on his face. It was another warning. Without a sound, he let go of her, and followed the path of her father.

Copia’s arm snaked around her waist. He made it a point to do it gingerly, but that did nothing to calm her rattling nerves. “You’re trembling, cara,” he noted quietly, turning to face her, placing a hand on her hip on the same spot Alessio’s fingers left painful imprints. Her eyes fluttered shut when she involuntarily shied away from him. He eyed her curiously as he switched hands, placing one on her opposite hip and taking her hand in his other. She never quite understood the random ballroom dancing that happened at some of these parties.

“I’m not afraid of you.”

A sinister laugh quietly bubbled from him as he leaned to whisper in her ear, “You really should be.”

“And why’s that?” she challenged as they stepped in time together. Unsure of how, or why, but she could feel some of her old fire ignite inside her.

“Now, now, if I answered that it would ruin the surprise.”

She spoke in a way so her lips didn’t move, but Copia could understand her muffled words perfectly: “My father has eyes on you, you know.” This came off as more of a warning of caution than a threat.

“I’d expect nothing less from him. The real question is, does he have eyes on you?”

“I highly doubt it. I’ve proven to him I’ve learned from my rebellious ways,” she scoffed.

“Oh?”

“The consequences aren’t worth the… It serves no purpose anymore.”

After a few beats of silence, Copia asked, “Why do you let them treat you like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like they own you.”

For the first time since their dance began, she looked directly into his two-toned irises. Her breath hitched. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone, never mind a practical stranger, had even acknowledged her feelings or that she might have any at all. Her life wasn’t her own; it was already planned out. She could picture her life with Alessio as if she already lived. It’s mostly the reason she had become a shell, a carbon copy of herself. She felt like she was standing on the edge of a tall cliffside with no one to pull her back and no one who noticed, or even cared… So why was her father’s sworn enemy acting as if he did? And why in God’s name did it make her stomach flip and her heart flutter? “Because they do,” she finally managed to say through barely parted lips.

As the song ended, Copia regarded her with a smug, yet sympathetic look. He stepped towards her, pressing his body against hers, bringing his forehead down to hers. Standing there frozen, there was nothing she was able to do except stare into the most intriguing pair of eyes she’d ever seen. “Il mio agnellino (my little lamb)…” he purred. A devilish smile creeped onto his face. “I’ll see you soon.”

He abruptly left her standing there like a deer in headlights with her heart hammering in chest, and disappeared into the crowd. She sucked in a deep, ragged breath as she looked around checking to see if there were any witnesses to what just happened.

That man was evil. She knew this. He was ruthless. He worshiped the devil. He was the enemy.

And yet, what terrified her the most wasn’t his veiled threats, but her reaction to them. There was an allure to him, an air of mystique. Someone heard her faint cries for freedom… She shook it off and went to find Alessio, fearing what he would do if she waited any longer.

Arianna caught his eye as she walked up to him leaning against the bar, alone. He knocked back the remainder of his drink and forcefully grabbed her wrist, dragging her out to a deserted hallway. Not a single person batted an eyelash as they rushed past.

Once he assumed they were completely by themselves, he forced her up against the wall. Her back stinging in protest as the coolness of the concrete seeped into her skin. Unbeknownst to the nowhere-near-happy couple, Copia and his ghouls were waiting in a nearby room. Every part of his plan was falling in place like dominos.

“Alessio wh–” Arianna started to question, but was cut off by Alessio slamming his fist on the wall right next to her head.

While he now had her caged in, he pointed a finger in her face. “What the fuck was that about? You fucking wanted to dance with that vermin?”

She stared at him in horror. Even though she knew he would pull this card, it never made it easier any time it happened. “What are you talking about?! Did you miss the look I gave you? I wanted nothing to do with him! I wanted you to say the ‘no’ that I couldn’t!”

“You wanted–” he scoffed. “You wanted me to say no? Since when do I make your decisions for you?”

“Only every fucking day of my life!” she spat back at him, seething. Though he embodies sin and everything unholy, when Copia switched the hands on her hips, when he noted her fear… Those actions, so subtle, spoke volumes. She was reminded of what it means when a person has compassion, empathy, and even a trace of humanity inside them. If she ever experienced that with Alessio it had long be wiped from her memory, overridden by every terrible thing he had done to her and put her through.

The rage that erupted from him, the hatred that bled from his eyes, haunted her nightmares. Instantly after the words left her mouth, her whole body tensed. When the blow from his hand landed across her face, she didn’t even have time to react before he gripped her arms again, somehow even harder than the two previous times.

“You think you can just go dance with another man without looking like one of the devil’s whores? Maybe I should have let you wear that dress, since here you are, being one instead of just looking like one.” He shook her as he berated her.

“Alessio, please, you’re hurting me,” she whimpered, tears streaming down her face as her fiancé screamed at her. His voice drowned out from the thumping music and the raucous party-goers in the other room.

“You little fucking cunt, if it wasn’t for your father I would have left your pathetic ass years ago,” he snarled through his teeth just before he tossed her to the ground like a rag doll. “Get the fuck home. I don’t want to deal with this right now. And you better think of a good way to make this up to me…” he warned before he cracked his neck, fixed his shirt cuffs, and sauntered back into the party.

Quietly, she sobbed into the tile floor. Her body was alight in a flame of pain. “Please, God. Please help me. I can’t… I just can’t…”

A hand gently touched her shoulder. She recoiled, flinching, and pressed herself into the wall behind her.

“Oh, Principessa,” Copia tutted. He crouched down in front of her and used his thumb to wipe away her tears. She watched as he brought his hand closer to inspect how they glistened on his leather glove. His eyes bored into hers as he brought his thumb to his mouth, nearly sensually cleaning off her agonized tears with his tongue. Fear coursed through her harder than the adrenaline did when she spoke back to Alessio. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but it seems that God called in sick today,” he leaned in closer, hovering over her forebodingly, “and he sent me to handle your prayers,” he cooed disparagingly.

He stepped back from her, offering to help her up. She stared at his hand, her eyes wide with panic. When he waved it to snap her out of her trance, she scrambled to her feet. Automatically fearing supposed repercussions.

“How much… how much of that did you hear?” she whispered.

“All of it.” With a snap of his fingers two ghouls appeared, seemingly out of nowhere from Arianna’s perspective, and grabbed her arms. Their grip firm, but it wasn’t lost on her how they somehow managed to avoid touching where Alessio had hurt her.

“Wh-what are you doing? Let me go. Let go of me!” she cried out, feebly attempting to wriggle from the ghouls’ grasps.

Copia stepped forward, taking her face in his hands. His thumbs stroked her cheeks. With his face inches from hers, that diabolical smile reappeared. “I’m sorry about that too, but I can’t allow that. You see, il mio agnellino, you won’t be going home tonight.” He snaked his hands down from her face and along her neck before he leaned in so close to her, his breath tickled her ear. The way his lips moved against her skin sent shivers down her spine. “I told you. You should be scared of me.”

As he backed away from her, a third ghoul put a cloth over her mouth. Her screams were muffled as she tried to thrash and escape from her captors. Soon, her movements slowed and her vision blurred. The last thing she remembered seeing was that haunting pair of eyes, one green and one white, watching her with a smirk that rivaled that of the devil’s, before something covered her head and plunged her into darkness as her body went limp.

Next Chapter || taglist: @gorie-talks-a-lot @haelithra @love-is-all-you-need-13 @lydzlore @megachaoticstupid @onlyhereforghost @state-of-longing @werich @whenparadiseislost

#the band ghost #the band ghost mafia au #mafia au #copia #mob boss!copia #mob boss copia #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus 4 #papa copia #copia x oc #papa emeritus iv x oc #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost bc #ghost bc fanfic #copia angst

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hmspogue · 1 year

Text

Outer Banks Season 3 Shot by Shot Trailer Rundown

I do not own any clips or screenshots, all rights to Netflix and the creators.

To say I'm still reeling would be the understatement of the century, let's get into it.

John B: "From the very beginning, it was always Kooks..."

Even though they're set on us prying this orange filter from their cold dead fingers, these first two shots are actually stunning?

"...and Pogues"

Holy hell, we know we have all the ohter Pogues reuniting with their parents after they get back home, so JJ being all alone at this house is actually so heartbreaking.

Jiara nation rise, it looks like Bracelet Touch™ takes place at the empty Maybank house I'm not well.

"Some people with everything..."

Why are season 3's always everyones haircut season in shows like what is the source of this phenomenon?

But Rafe and Barry with the key

This hiding job is on par with JJ throwing pew pillows over it in the church.

Although, kind of think this is them getting ready to try and melt the cross down (which makes me so beyond furious), because off to the side you see the lighter fluid and the muffin tins, then later there's shots of gold.

"...and some with nothing."

The DIVIDE. I actually love the dynamic of Kooks vs Pogues heating up and the two cultures that try and exist on a very small island together. Especially since this season seems to be Kiara centric, her whole identity being called into question about where she falls I NEED IT.

I cannot even begin to express how sad I am that we're probably going to get approximately 3 seconds of them hanging out on Poguelandia because look at them!!! Let them be happy!!!

"That's the way it's always been."

SDHCULAISUEHLWAG JIARA FISHING ISNT JUST A MONTAGE I REPEAT JIARA FISHING WILL NOT JUST BE A MONTAGE.

I LOVE HER SO MUCH YES BABE GO FISHING!!!

Pope and Cleo making a signal fire together. Looks like that scene from the teaser of them walking in the field was probably them trying to scout out a good spot for it.

Jarah B looking fine as hell John B I know that bandana is your father's but i cannot even begin to imagine how disgusting it is at this point I'm sorry-

IM BEING SO NORMAL ABOUT THIS!!!!

I feel like both this shot and the previous one are them being saved by the plane that lands.

(@whitetrashjj the mullet truther, your time has come).

"Until now."

This may be my favorite John B set up narration so far.

Also, like I said, them getting rescued by the plane. Kiara looks almost hesitant? Could be the same shot as above where her and JJ aren't too sure about this plane or the people on it.

MMMMMMMM VERY concerning JJ bike crash. Pope and Cleo (or maybe Kie?) in the back of the truck with a crate.

Okay this is SO intereting to me because Ward with blood all over himself (whatelse is new?), Rafe, and Sarah helping him? I can't tell what's in his hand. But the family dynamics this season are goign to be somehow even messier, I can feel it.

Kiara getting kidnapped and taken to wilderness camp, I'm so not ready for this like. It's for sure the Carrera house in the back, the two shirts say Kitty Hawk Adventure.

For a long time, we all thought this was going to be something they ended the season on, but now it seems like it'll be a plot point in the middle. Thanks to @sun-undone and her unhinged costuming documents, we know that this yellow halter top is after the Carrera anniversary party we got BTS from (with the Jiara gate fight and John B rocking Topper's shit and Mike's "see, this is what I'm talking about, JJ"). We know Kie is seen later witht he Pogues, so Blue Ridge may be a quick, one episode plot mid season.

If they've been holding Blue Ridge over her head the whole season, then John B beating the shit out of Topper at the party is sort of the last straw, I cannot een begin to imagine the fight that he and JJ will have about it????

JJ and Kiara INSIDE the Chateau and a fire being lit OUTSIDE? If someone's trying to burn the house down witht hem trapped inside there will be heLL TO PAY.

IF THE CHATEAU GETS BURNED DOWN IM COMING FOR THE PATES I STG DON'T DO THIS TO ME WHY DO I FEEL LIKE IT WOULD BE MY CHILDHOOD HOME BURNING KJDFLAIUDHFAL??????

I know that Cline talked about having to mentally take Sarah to some very dark places this season and this shot just confirms my theory that I seriously think Sarah's going to kill someone and deal with the emotional consequences of that.

I want this to be feral JJ so badly after Kiara's taken, but, sadly, he's not in the right outfit. Not the first time we've seen machete!JJ though.

We saw this shot in the teaser, but looks like they're climbing up an abandoned elevator shaft. They're in their clothes they have on get reunited with Kie. I think it's from the same abandoned hotel the Pogues (minus Kiara, probably because they're going to save her) are in front of in a different shot.

Andd here it is: the new plot of the season and confirmation they're going after fucking EL DORADO NEXT LIKE.

Important to note this is shot on a plane as well.

Oh the Twinkie, how I missed you.

oh look they remembered a mom besides Anna this season WHY MY EYES WET LIKE THESE REUNIONS ALSO WHILE JJ IS COMPLETELY ALONE. HEYWARD, ADOPT HIM YOU COWARD!

Kiara's relationship with her parents is so askjhfailsuh COMPLICATED because I think they really do love her. And she wants more than anything for them to understand her and they just keep missing each other.

"My father and me..."

This shot is very aesthetically pleasing to me. That's all I have to say about it.

YEAH OKAY AND THEN I STARTED FUCKING WEEPING BECAUSE THIS?????? I CANT BELIEVE THEY PUT BABY JOHN B IN THE TRAILER?????

If they only do baby Sarah and Baby John B I will do something so drastic-

"...the treasure was our way out."

The way he's looking at his father? Like the pride in his eyes? I know this relationship is going to sting so badly with the way the Pates have talked about John B having to reconcile the idealized version of his father in his head with the one that left him for gold.

This is a kid that hasn't been hurt by the world or his father yet and I wanna hug him.

(post will be continues apparently i can only up load 30 images at once)

#outer banks #outer banks season 3 #shot by shot trailer rundown #john b routledge #jj maybank #pope heyward #kiara carrera #sarah cameron #jiara #obx3

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kckt88 · 4 months

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Take My Breath Away X.

Summary:

Vaeryna and Aemond come to an understanding and another babe is born.

Warning(s): Mini Time Skip, Language, Anger, Misunderstandings, Aegon's Inuendo, Child Birth.

Word Count: 3216

A.N - BIT OF A FILLER CHAPTER BEFORE A TIME SKIP!!

GREENS WIN - ENEMIES TO LOVERS.

Tag List - @a-beaverhausen, @ammo23, @immyowndefender, @watercolorskyy, @toodlesxcuddles

Smut scene from Dynasty has been reused.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

It was glorious, an entire week spent with his wife and son.

The peace and serenity of Dragonstone had relaxed him beyond belief.

As well as making up for lost time with Rhaegar, Aemond never missed an opportunity to get between his wife’s soft thighs.

He was determined to make up for the time he'd lost and Vaeryna was more than happy to accept his efforts.

The time with Vaeryna and Rhaegar had made Aemond realise just how important his wife and son were and he vowed to make changes upon their return to Kings Landing.

Changes that began almost immediately after they had landed.

Aemond refused point blank to attend more council meetings than necessary and the ones he did attend, he insisted that they ended at an appropriate time.

When the other council members grumbled at his behaviour, he gently reminded them that he rode the largest dragon in the world and any such complaints could be made in her presence.

Needless to say, the complaints did eventually quieten down after that, but Aegon was still furious with Vaeryna for taking Rhaegar and running off, so she had to apologise, which she wasn’t very happy about, but in order to keep the peace she eventually conceded.

Of course, a few weeks after their return to the Red Keep, Vaeryna discovered that she was with child again and Aegon’s anger towards her was all but forgotten, the King was clearly excited by the prospect of another child, as was Alicent who smiled and congratulated them both.

There was a slight panic as Rhaegar hadn’t celebrated his first name day yet, but Aemond was on hand to assuage any fears his wife might have had, even though he harboured his own fears surrounding Vaeryna birthing their babe, given the complications she had when birthing Rhaegar.

But Aemond would never let those fears become known, he would keep them to himself and pray to the gods every night that his wife would be ok.

The one who was the most excited was Jaehaera, she spent hours lovingly sewing a blanket for her cousin.

“Do you think she’ll like it?” asked Jaehaera.

“I’m sure she’ll love it” replied Vaeryna.

“Uncle Aemy wants to call her Alissa, don’t let him” whispered Jaehaera.

“What shall I call her?” questioned Vaeryna as she stroked her slightly swollen stomach.

“Daenerys” said Jaehaera.

“That’s very pretty”.

“The boy in the snow will think so too” muttered Jaehaera.

“Do you know something?” asked Vaeryna looking around cautiously.

“Daenerys will be his way home” murmured Jaehaera.

“Such a thing is not possible” said Vaeryna.

“All things are possible auntie Ryna. Egg will return and Daenerys will help him”.

Vaeryna studied Jaehaera for a moment before nodding and resuming her reading, her niece had been right about Rhaegar, so could she be right about Aegon, was there a way for him to come back and if so, when?

“You’ll know” whispered Jaehaera.

“What?” exclaimed Vaeryna.

“When the time is right for Egg to come back, you just need to be patient” said Jaehaera.

Vaeryna nodded wordlessly and as she caught sight of Aemond approaching.

“The little fiend in there has the audacity to kick her father in the face” laughed Aemond as he rested his head against Vaeryna’s swollen stomach.

“Probably a warning for all the trouble she’ll cause in the future”.

“If she’s anything like her mother of course” said Aemond smiling.

“Hey, I’m not that bad am I” muttered Vaeryna pouting slightly.

“I suppose not, but at least you’ve ceased your relentless teasing about Alys” whispered Aemond.

“Not much left to tease you with, as I don’t think my father convincing her to seduce you-“

“What?” asked Aemond his singular eye boring into hers.

“Oh, I didn’t tell you about that did I?” said Vaeryna grimacing.

“No, you did not” retorted Aemond.

“Didn’t really seem all that important” said Vaeryna sheepishly.

“So, your saying everything I had with Alys was-“

“-A set up? Well, in the beginning it was, I don’t know-she could have developed genuine feelings for you eventually” said Vaeryna quickly.

“All that time I spent with her was fake” muttered Aemond.

“Look, don’t take it personally. Alys just did what she had to in order to survive. Granted I never liked the woman, but you have to admit she was good at what she did” replied Vaeryna.

“You almost sound like you admire her”.

“I admired her tenacity” replied Vaeryna softly.

“I don’t suppose it matters now that she’s dead”.

“-And if she wasn’t?” asked Vaeryna.

“I would kill her myself, she lied to me, seduced me and being involved with her only caused my own embarrassment” said Aemond.

“You’re a man, people generally tend to look the other way when it comes to men seeking the company of whores” said Vaeryna.

“Is that what you think?”

“It’s what I know, a woman cannot go and enjoy the pleasures of a man without being labelled. Look at my mother, she was forced into a marriage with Laenor to salvage the crowns relationship with the Velaryon’s after Viserys spurned Laena in favour of a marriage to your mother” replied Vaeryna.

“I just-“

“-My mother and Laenor did try to have children, but it was fruitless. She was expected to have more children, to further her line and as my father was across the narrow sea, her options were severely limited” replied Vaeryna.

“But her choice could have been better” muttered Aemond.

“Possibly, but who else would she have trusted with such a thing, Harwin was devoted to her and he loved her the way she deserved to be loved, mayhaps Viserys should have granted Daemon’s request-“

“-His request?” questioned Aemond.

“He once told me that he asked Viserys for my mother’s hand in marriage, but he was denied, of course he was still married to Rhea Royce at the time, but can you imagine how different things would have been” mused Vaeryna.

“We can imagine, but we will never truly know” replied Aemond as he ran a hand over Vaeryna’s round stomach.

“The incompetence of Kings” muttered Vaeryna.

Aemond closed his eye and pressed his face against the curve of his wife’s belly, he inhaled her sweet lavender scent and sighed, as he couldn’t ignore the feeling of uncertainty swirling in the pit of his stomach.

“Do you regret the choices we’ve made?”

“My choice led me to my children; I do not regret that” replied Vaeryna.

“Oh” whispered Aemond.

“-And even though there was a time where I thought you to be loathsome cunt, I do not regret you” said Vaeryna smiling.

As carefully as he could, Aemond surged forward and pressed his lips against hers.

Vaeryna sighed contentedly into the kiss and rested her forehead against Aemonds.

As fearsome as he was, there were times when Aemond seemed quite vulnerable and clingy, he would consistently seek her touch and he also had this inherent need to know that she loved him.

Which given his upbring was understandable, Vaeryna had grown up in a very loving and consistent environment, whereas Aemond hadn’t and that deeply saddened Vaeryna.

“Mamamama” squealed Rhaegar.

“Somebodies awake” laughed Vaeryna.

“Dadadada” shouted Rhaegar.

“You relax, I’ll get him” said Aemond.

“Gods this child is giving me a right kicking” exclaimed Vaeryna wincing as she placed a hand on her stomach.

“Babababa” shouted Rhaegar he jostled excitedly in his father’s arms.

“Settle down my sweet boy” muttered Vaeryna as Aemond placed a squirming Rhaegar on the bed.

“Rhaegar, listen to your mother” said Aemond sternly as he watched Rhaegar bounce on the bed.

“No dada” exclaimed Rhaegar frowning.

“Please Rhaegar-“ said Vaeryna as she suddenly lurched forward and threw up.

“-Gods Vaeryna are you ok?” asked Aemond.

“I just-oh not again-“ gasped Vaeryna as she threw up again.

“Mamamama” urged Rhaegar.

“I’m getting the Maester-Ser Arryk would you take Rhaegar to the nursery and watch over him until Marlena arrives”.

“Yes, My Prince-Come on little one” said Ser Arryk as he took Rhaegar by the hand and led him out of the room.

“I’ll get Munkun, just stay here until I get back” said Aemond softly.

“Not like I’ve got anywhere to go” muttered Vaeryna as she placed a hand on her head.

“Hm” muttered Aemond as he rushed out of the room and reappeared several minutes later with Maester Munkun and a maid.

“Apologise for the mess Ellen” said Vaeryna softly.

“Tis no trouble Princess” replied Ellen as she began to clean up.

“Aside from the sickness, do you have any other symptoms?” asked Maester Munkun.

“No” replied Vaeryna.

“The babe is very active indeed” muttered Munkun as he gently prodded and poked Vaeryna’s swollen stomach.

“No kidding” exclaimed Vaeryna her stomach lurching again.

“I think I see the issue, with the babe being so active, the regular movements are upsetting your stomach” said Munkun.

“Oh” muttered Vaeryna.

“Do you consume a lot of sugary food by any chance?”

“She eats a lot of honey cakes if that’s what you mean” said Aemond folding his arms across his chest.

“That might be what is causing the babe to be so active, as there is a lot of sugar in honey cakes” replied Munkun.

“But I have a craving for them Maester” gasped Vaeryna.

“Mayhaps you could limit the amount of honey cakes you consume” suggested Munkun.

“-Or mayhaps I should feed you to my dragon” muttered Vaeryna.

“Vaeryna” scolded Aemond.

“It’s quite alright my Prince, a mother heavy with child is more ferocious than any dragon”.

“But what am I to do if I cannot have my cakes, I can’t stop thinking about them and it unsettles me most nights” said Vaeryna, ignoring Aemond who looked bewildered.

“I merely suggest that you limit your intake of sugar Princess, I understand the cravings of mothers can be overwhelming, but we need to consider your health and not just the babe”.

“Yes Maester” muttered Vaeryna suddenly becoming very sullen.

“I shall make sure she adheres to your advice Maester” said Aemond sternly.

“I’m not suggesting she doesn’t have any cake at all, mayhaps limit the amount”.

Aemond’s eye narrowed as he spotted Vaeryna’s lip wobbling.

“Thank you Maester that will be all” said Aemond.

Once the Maester had left Aemond braced himself for the vitriol his wife was no doubt about to spew forth in his direction.

But when he turned around, he was aghast when he spotted the tears rolling down Vaeryna’s face.

“My love-“ said Aemond gently.

Vaeryna wiped the tears off her face and slowly climbed off the bed, she didn’t say a word as she walked past Aemond and left their chambers, ignoring her husband as he frantically called her name.

It was one of those rare moments where Aegon could enjoy the peace and quiet, being King didn’t afford him much privacy so he could only snatch brief moments here and there.

But as he sat in the garden, he heard the faint sound of crying, at first, he thought it was Jaehaera as she the propensity to hide away and cry for her mother from time to time, but it wasn’t his daughter that he came across, it was his good sister hiding in one of the bushes.

“What’s wrong?” asked Aegon as he sat on the ground next to Vaeryna.

“H-He thinks I’m a fat pig” wailed Vaeryna.

“Who does?”

“Aemond” sobbed Vaeryna as she pressed her face into Aegon’s shoulder.

“I’m sure he doesn’t” replied Aegon awkwardly as he patted Vaeryna on the head.

“T-The Maester said I eat too much cake and the sugar is making the babe too active and he-he said he would limit my cake- “ shrieked Vaeryna.

“-Your crying because of cake?” asked Aegon perplexed.

“Oh, so you think I’m a fat pig too” snapped Vaeryna.

“N-No I never said those words, I was just curious as to why you were crying and-oh gods I’m making a right mess of this aren’t I” replied Aegon.

“It’s his fault in the first place”.

“Who? Aemonds?” asked Aegon.

“Yes, he was the one who got me with child, damn him and his big cock”.

“I mean he is very gifted in that department, I’m rather envious of you” said Aegon.

“Wait. What?” exclaimed Vaeryna wiping the snot on her sleeve.

“Oh it’s not what you think my brother is far too much of a prude for that sort of thing, but-“

“-His involvement with Alys suggests otherwise” muttered Vaeryna.

“Sticking his cock in an old whores dusty cunny doesn’t mean shit, my brother has only fucked three women in his life, not exactly anything to brag about” said Aegon firmly.

“As opposed to the hundreds you’ve bedded” quipped Vaeryna.

“Those were the glory days, but yes I’ve experienced my fair share of pleasure with males and females” said Aegon.

“Does your pious mother know of your indulgences with men?” asked Vaeryna.

“Gods no, she’d likely have a heart attack if she knew”.

“-And your little crush on Aemond?” said Vaeryna smirking, her upset with her husband long forgotten.

“I wouldn’t call it a crush, more of a curiosity. I always wondered what it would be like to have my brother at my mercy”.

“Oh, it’s quite satisfactory, especially when he begs” replied Vaeryna smirking.

“Good sister do not spare any details. Tell me how you make my brother beg”.

Aegon was as giddy as a small child, practically foaming at the mouth wanting to hear all the juicy details.

"You only want me to tell you so you can tease him"

"Would I?" laughed Aegon.

"Yes you would, but then again I'm sure Aemond would spontaneously combust if he knew of your-curiosity".

"Oh he would either levy some insult upon me or skin me alive" replied Aegon shrugging.

"Would you fuck him if he allowed it?" asked Vaeryna.

"My brother would never allow such a thing to occur, but on the off chance he agreed, I wouldn't say no, but it would be him doing the fucking if I'm totally honest" said Aegon.

"Interesting" mused Vaeryna suddenly feeling warm and fuzzy at the thought of Aemond and Aegon together.

"Indeed, so tell me how does my brother beg?"

“He’s very fond of my mouth on his-“ muttered Vaeryna

“-Vaeryna” said Aemond.

“You’ve got to be kidding me” exclaimed Aegon.

“Maybe next time Your Grace” replied Vaeryna.

“Vaeryna, where are you?”

“Don’t you dare-“ quipped Vaeryna.

“-She’s here” said Aegon smirking.

“Traitor” snapped Vaeryna.

“Are you hiding in the bushes?” asked Aemond.

“Obviously” muttered Vaeryna.

Aemond’s eye narrowed when he caught sight of Vaeryna resting her head on Aegon’s shoulder.

“My doesn’t this look cozy”.

“Get your head out your arse, I was here first and Aegon found me” said Vaeryna.

“Tis true brother, your wife was upset, I was merely providing comfort” replied Aegon as he stood up and dusted himself off.

“Hm” muttered Aemond as he sat next to Vaeryna who scowled.

“I’ll leave you to it” said Aegon as he walked out of the gardens.

“Do you want to tell me why your hiding in the bushes?” asked Aemond.

“Go away” snapped Vaeryna.

“Not until you tell me why your so upset” replied Aemond.

“Get lost” muttered Vaeryna her eyes filling with tears again.

“Please my love” begged Aemond as he gently placed a hand on Vaeryna’s shoulder, only for her to shrug him off.

“You’re a horrid man Aemond Targaryen” snarled Vaeryna as she tried to get up but couldn’t.

“Do you need help?” asked Aemond trying to stifle a smirk.

“I can do it” said Vaeryna as she struggled.

“Just give me your hand” said Aemond as he stood up and held his hand out to Vaeryna who slapped it away.

“Leave me alone” said Vaeryna, tears of frustration running down her face.

“Just let me help you”.

“Fine” snarked Vaeryna as she took Aemond’s hand and allowed him to help her stand up.

“Now are you going to talk to me?”

“NO” shouted Vaeryna as she turned away from Aemond and furiously wiped away her tears.

“Why are you being so difficult?”

“It’s your fault” replied Vaeryna wincing slightly as a sharp pain throbbed across her stomach.

“What?”

“You think I’m a pig” snapped Vaeryna.

“No, I don’t” exclaimed Aemond.

“Yes you do, you think I eat too many cakes and-“

“Is that what all of this is about? My love please believe me when I say you are not a pig, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen” replied Aemond softly.

“Your just saying that” breathed Vaeryna as another pain lanced across her stomach.

“Because it’s true, you are my heart and soul” muttered Aemond as he seized his chance and placed a gentle kiss on Vaeryna’s forehead.

“I-I’m sorry”.

“It’s ok my love; I understand things are a little delicate at the moment” said Aemond.

“I don’t even really like honey cakes” confessed Vaeryna as she wrapped her arms around Aemond’s waist.

Aemond let out a little chuckle as he placed a hand under Vaeryna’s chin and gently manoeuvred her face so his lips could meet hers.

As the kiss deepened Vaeryna gasped as she felt something warm and wet run down her legs.

“What’s wrong?” asked Aemond as he watched his wife frantically lifting her skirts and placing a hand between her legs.

“T-The babe is coming” exclaimed Vaeryna.

“That’s it Princess, keep pushing” encouraged Maester Munkun.

“AEMOND!” screamed Vaeryna.

“I’m here my sweet” replied Aemond.

“I-I can’t do this, it’s too soon” cried Vaeryna.

“Yes, you can” exclaimed Aemond as he climbed onto the bed at sat behind Vaeryna.

“W-What are you doing?” muttered Vaeryna.

“Lean against me and take my hands” urged Aemond as he sat Vaeryna between his open legs.

“A-Aemond” gasped Vaeryna.

“Now, you squeeze my hands as hard as you like” said Aemond.

Vaeryna was sweaty and exhausted, but she took a deep breath and as the next contraction ripped across her stomach, she pushed.

“FUCK!”

"Keep going my sweet you’re doing great" said Aemond.

"I'M GOING TO CUT YOUR COCK OFF!" screamed Vaeryna.

"Oh, my love, surely you don't mean that".

"I do. This is ALL your fault,” cried Vaeryna.

"I seem to recall that you were a willing participant in our love making, if not the instigator on several occasions my love" replied Aemond.

"Not even remotely funny" yelled Vaeryna.

"Another push Princess"

“I swear if you say push one more time. I'll feed you too my Cannibal” snarled Vaeryna.

“The head is out Princess, but I need you to stop pushing. The cord is wrapped around the babe’s neck” exclaimed Maester Munkun.

“W-What” cried Vaeryna in alarm.

“It’s ok. Issa dōna ābrazȳrys. Just breathe” said Aemond (My sweet wife).

After a few moments, the Maester had managed to cut the cord from the babe’s neck and with a wet squelch the babe arrived.

A loud shrieking cry echoed around the room.

“A daughter, Princess” declared the Maester.

Vaeryna all but snatched the crying babe away from Maester Munkun and sobbed.

“T-Thank you Maester” breathed Vaeryna, the tears streaming down her face.

“Your welcome Princess” replied maester Munkun.

“I-Is she ok?” asked Vaeryna.

“She’s absolutely fine” said Maester Munkun smiling.

“S-She’s ok. Aemond, look” gasped Vaeryna.

Aemond who’s face had been buried in Vaeryna’s shoulder, let out a sob as he gazed at his crying daughter.

“My daughter” gasped Aemond.

“She’s beautiful” sobbed Vaeryna as she stroked her daughter’s head.

“What shall we call her?” asked Aemond.

“Daenerys” whispered Vaeryna.

“A perfect name. For a perfect little girl”

“So perfect” whispered Vaeryna.

“I’m so proud of you Issa prūmia” (my heart).

“I love you” muttered Vaeryna.

“-And I love you. My sweet perfect wife.” praised Aemond as he nuzzled Vaeryna’s neck.

“Would you like you hold your daughter?”

“Please” whispered Aemond as he manoeuvred himself away from Vaeryna and climbed off the bed.

Aemond cried openly when his wife placed their tiny babe in his arms.

“A-Are you ok?” asked Vaeryna her voice laced with concern.

Aemond nodded meekly as his gaze never leaving his precious daughter.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond x original female character #hotd fic #aegon ii #aegon ii targaryen #hotd aegon #aemond #aemond one eye #house of the dragon aemond #aemond targaryen x oc

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starsfic · 6 months

Note

In the drunk red son fic, what on earth did Azure say to red that made him drink himself under the table

And please tell me mk or swk gave him an ear full about it. Like they actually pulled on his ear to be at eye level while they nagged him

Slap!

Azure Lion blinked in shock, reaching up to shakily trace the handprint on his face. Qi Xiaotian couldn't blame him- he had never imagined himself doing what he just did. However, he was too angry to really be horrified. Instead, he reached up and grabbed Azure's ear, yanking him down.

"How fucking dare you."

"What did I do?!" Azure yelped, sounding so clueless that Xiaotian almost believed it.

Except he had Red's quiet request from this morning rolling through his mind. The wedding had been delayed for a week- and he was so fucking glad that Red and his's parents were more than willing after hearing the story- and now he needed to deal with the reason why. Instead, he adjusted his grip, and Azure yowled.

"What the fuck you did is you...you...you..." He hissed. For a moment, his body ached, and he felt a thrill of strange delight at Azure's wide eyes. "Whatever the fuck you said to Red, you damaged his self-confidence that...that..." Once again he stuttered, so angry that he was almost fucking blind. "You hurt him," he chose to hiss. "And the reason Xiaojiao or Wukong isn't here backing me up is because I insisted Red have an emergency therapy session while I deal with you."

Azure's eyes widened even more. "Now, Xiaotian, look..."

"No, you look," Xiaotian gripped his ear even tighter. Faintly he felt something wet, under where his claw dug in. "I am so fucking furious right now. You do not try to ruin my wedding because you have a petty grudge against DBK and Iron Fan because you're fucking jealous that they got to have what you and my mentor couldn't." There were probably more reasons beyond that, but that would hurt the most. Azure opened his mouth and just as quickly shut it as Xiaotian glared. "And don't you dare fucking deny that. You promised me that you would try to fix things with everyone, and that is the only reason I still talk to you at this point." Why he even invited him to his wedding. "So I am giving you one more chance."

"You are?"

"I am," Xiaotian yanked Azure closer. "Fix your fucking attitude. Actually show that you want to make a change. Yellowtusk did it, and I believe you can." He released the ear, slightly. "If you don't, if you try to pull a stunt like that ever again, my mentor will make sure you never see me or any of my children." He eyed the lion. "Got it?"

"Yes," Azure said. Purple eyes met him, and he could see the regret. Whatever he said, he was regretting it. "I'm sorry for being the reason your wedding has been pushed back."

"Thank you." Xiaotian released his ear, and Azure stepped back, reaching up and rubbing his ear. "I don't forgive you. I'll let Red think about it. But thank you for acknowledging your mistake."

Azure managed a stiff nod.

#my writing #LMK #Monkie Kid #LEGO Monkie Kid #Azure Lion #Qi Xiaotian #Spicynoodles #Spicynoodleshipping #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #prompt fill #prompt fic

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armed-with-knitting-needles · 25 days

Text

A 3AM Encounter

My first fic for Phic Phight!

The prompts were: "an encounter between valarie and sam on a patrol" by @allulily and "Sam is rescued by the Red Huntress and accidentally lets Valerie’s real name slip during the heat of the moment. Valerie has never shared her secret with anyone but her father. Does she threaten Sam or will her loneliness convince her to accept Sam's help?" by @dreamwraith

Valerie stared at the furious girl below her in shock. Her hoverboard was stuck in one of the branches slightly above her as she clung to the trunk of an old oak tree in her huntress uniform. “You shot me,” she blurted, too shocked to yell.

Below her, Sam Manson huffed, a still steaming ectogun in her hands, “Yeah, well you shot me first.”

“I thought you were a ghost.” Valerie started to inch her way up the tree towards her hoverboard.

“How the hell did you mistake me for a ghost?” Sam asked, her nostrils flaring, “Do I look like I’m glowing?”

Valerie swallowed nervously. “Well, yeah, a little bit,” she said, just a little defensively, “the vest does make it look like you're glowing in the right light.” She straightened herself up as much as she could while still clinging to the tree. “You should be a more careful, citizen.”

And wasn’t that a twist. Sam Manson was wearing a reflective vest in the middle of the night in a ghost infested park on a Tuesday. What on Earth was that about? It really wasn’t Valerie's fault that she mistook the bright, reflective figure in the night for a ghost.

Sam didn’t seem to agree.

“I should be more careful?” she asked, her voice rising in a way Valerie instinctively associated with an overloud rant about the evils of the world. “Me? The one wearing the reflective vest? The vest specifically made so that people don’t get, I don’t know, hit by cars?”

“Uh…” Valerie started climbing towards her hoverboard faster. Sam was getting a little wild with the ectogun while she was gesturing.

“I really should have expected this from you, you know?” Sam continued ranting, “I really fucking should have!”

“‘Oh, she’s getting better, Sam,’” Sam said, in a mockingly deep voice, “‘She’s really started to think before she shoots.’”

Valerie was beyond confused. Was she talking about Phantom? They had been on better terms lately. But, how did Samantha Manson, best friend of the son of two ghost hunters, know Phantom?

“Well, guess what? I’m not really feeling it. I just got shot as a completely benign human.”

“You, uh, did have a ghost weapon on you,” Valerie pointed out, somewhat more defensively, “That kind of thing can trigger sensors.” She was almost to her hoverboard.

Valerie stilled as she felt the full force of Sam’s glare. “Please, maybe the GIW’s stuff is that janky, but I know you have better equipment than that.”

Valerie narrowed her eyes. This situation was just not adding up. “How do you know that? What are you even doing out here?”

The air shifted. Sam cleared her throat.

“Oh, well,” she started, voice slightly wobbly, “I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a walk.”

It was 3 am, but this was Sam, who had a tendency to do what she wanted when she wanted, so it was possible she was telling the truth, if unlikely.

“And I know your equipment is better than the GIW because, uh, it looks so much nicer…” She trailed off before rebounding. “And you’ve never shot at random humans carrying weapons.” Her eyes darkened. “At least not before today.”

That was weird. Something really was off about this whole situation. “Fine, you’re right, it is better than the Guys in White. It didn’t register you as a ghost. That was all me.” She started wiggling the hoverboard to see just how stuck it was or if anything was broken. That would suck.

“Yeah, that's what I thought,” Sam said, still standing there, arms crossed, but seemingly out of things to say.

Actually, that was part of the weirdness of everything. Usually civilians got away fast. If she was there, a ghost was almost certainly nearby. They definitely didn’t stick around after being shot (not that she really had any other experience with that). They especially didn’t stick around to shoot back.

“Why are you still here?” Valerie asked as she checked the rockets on the back of her board for debris.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sam shift on her heels. “I, uh, kinda shot you, too,” Sam said, awkwardly, “I figured I should stick around to make sure you were okay. You went kinda far.”

Valerie fiddled with the controller on her wrist to make sure the system was operational. “You shot me with an ectogun,” she said, mostly focused on the controls, “I’m human. I’m fine.”

“You went kinda far for just a human,” Sam said, tone noticeably neutral.

Valerie was distracted trying to piece together what that meant when one of the rockets on the hoverboard suddenly flared. Valerie tried to correct and balance the board back onto the branch, but it was too late. It careened towards the ground… and towards Sam.

“Look out!” Valerie shouted as she launched herself out of the tree, attempting to force the hoverboard to turn using her wrist controller all the while. Sam was trying to jump out of the way, but her split second decision had her going into the hoverboard's path.

It was only luck that Valerie hit Sam before the hurtling slab of metal did, slamming her into the grass as the hoverboard crashed directly to their right. Valerie started to right herself, only to smell the distinct tang of ectoplasm hitting the air and hear the hissing of gas. She pressed herself down onto Sam again.

There was a loud boom and then the feeling of hot metal hitting her shoulder . Valerie hissed, laying there on top of Sam in the grass, thoughts of what almost happened ringing through her head.

There was a nudge to her shoulder, but Valerie ignored it. Her hoverboard was destroyed. That was going to be hell to replace.

Another nudge, accompanied by words Valerie didn’t really hear.

Her hoverboard was destroyed and it had almost taken someone out in the process. A human being.

More words that Valerie's brain wasn’t quite comprehending.

Her hoverboard had almost killed Sam. She had almost killed Sam. First she’d shot at her, beacause hse couldn’t even correctly identify a ghost, then her hoverboard almost took her head off. What kind of hero was she? Could she even–

“Valerie!”

Valerie snapped back to reality at the sound of her name. She stared at the girl under her. Right, she was on top of Sam. That had to be getting uncomfortable.

She rolled off onto the grass next to Sam. Then she froze. Sam had called her “Valerie.” She was in her hunting suit. The helmet was on. She turned her head towards Sam, who was starting to sit up on her elbows.

“You just called me Valerie,” she said, keeping her voice as even as possible. How the hell did Samantha Manson of all people know who she was?

Sam scrambled to her feet. Confessing through her actions that, yes, Valerie had heard right, even as her mouth insisted. “Valerie? What are you talking about? I called you the Red Huntress.”

Valerie narrowed her eyes. “No, you didn’t,” she nearly whispered, as she managed to get herself back into a standing position. “How did you know?” She clutched a hand over her left shoulder. She wasn’t sure if the shrapnel had pierced her suit.

Sam glanced over her shoulder, looking like she was about to bolt. “What are you talking about?” she said, laughing somewhat hysterically, “Did you hit your head?” She shifted again, briefly meeting Valerie’s eyes. “Besides, even if I did know something, it's not like I would tell anyone. I’m not an asshole.”

Valerie took a deep breath. Freaking out wouldn’t do any good. All it would do was scare Sam off. She wasn’t too hurt and she could probably catch her if she needed to, but that would set the wrong tone for the whole conversation.

“Hey,” Valerie said, with just a touch of sarcasm, “I’m not mad at you. I just want to know how you found out.” And who else knew. Did Danny know? Sam was one of his best friends.

“I…” Sam started, “I mean, I —”

The way Sam was shifting, Valerie was positive she was about to pull some excuse out of her ass. Valerie was ready though. She was positive that she could get to the bottom of this tonight.

“Sam!” an echoing voice called from above them.

Valerie looked up, bewildered, to see Phantom. What the hell? Did Sam actually know Phantom?

“Are you okay?” he asked, as he flew down to their level, “I heard a lot of shouting and then an explosion. Is anyone hurt?”

“Da– I mean, Phantom,” she stumbled, “I’m fine!” She motioned to Valerie, “I think Valerie hurt her arm though.”

Valerie froze as all the pieces fell into place. This was it. This was why Sam knew.

“You!” Valerie yelled at Phantom. He looked at her as if startled by her anger. He should know better.

“It was you, you life-ruining ghost. You were the one who told her.”

Phantom blinked. “I – What?”

Valerie took advantage of his supposed confusion. Her arm might be sore, but it wasn’t hurt enough to affect her aim. She switched out her gun and lined up the shot.

“Ow!” Phantom yelled, rubbing his chest, “What was that for? I thought we were doing better.”

“That’s what I thought, too,” Valerie growled, “But apparently, you’ve been going around telling people my secret identity.”

“What?” Phantom asked, sounding thoroughly panicked, “No,I haven’t!”

Valerie lined up another shot. She had no reason to trust a ghost.

Her shot went wide as Sam yanked on the gun.

“Hey,” she yelled, “D– Phantom didn’t tell me anything. You can’t just accuse him of things ‘cause you’re scared.”

Valerie's eyes narrowed at Sam. It was a mistake. As soon as she took her eyes off Phantom she felt his presence leave.

She cursed, immediately looking to the sky. He was already flying over the trees.

She turned back to Sam, nostrils flaring inside her helmet. “I have to take care of this,” she said, keeping her voice both low and hard, “But, tomorrow, you and I are going to have a long talk.”

With that, she sprinted off in the direction she had last seen Phantom. Her board may have been broken, but her suit made her faster than any average human. Sam wouldn’t be able to follow.

And on top of that, the little “ectoblast” she’d hit him with had a tracker hidden inside of it. It might not have done any damage and she might not be able to keep up with him, but she would know where he kept himself hidden by the end of the night.

First she would deal with Phantom, the snitch, then, tomorrow, she would deal with Sam. One thing at a time.

#phic phight #phic phight 2024 #danny phantom #sam manson #valerie gray

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curekibouka-writing · 2 years

Note

Howdy do~! I’ve got a fluff/angst headcanon in mind: The dorm leaders’ (including Jamil’s) fem! s/o suddenly wakes up screaming in the middle of the night because of a traumatic nightmare of them Overblotting. As she wakes up, she tearfully tells them she’s scared of losing them a second time. How do they comfort her? Please and thanks!

A/N: This was a request sent to me more than a few months ago, and considering my upper limit being 4 characters per headcanon, I assume this request wants me to write Riddle, Leona, Azul and Jamil?

For Raven's TwstOBer day 5: Dream

Riddle Rosehearts:

Riddle is quick to brew you a cup of herbal tea to help ease your mind and hold your hand as he asks you what’s wrong.

You tell him you were dreaming of his overblot, the way he lost control and demanded obedience, the way his choker bled onto his pale neck as if it’d cut through. You tell him you fear it happening again, that you’d lose him to the monster raised by the same mother.

Riddle sits next to you and looks into your eyes very seriously, he reassures you with great certainty, “It won’t happen again. I’ve changed, well, I am trying my best to change.”

The world he thought to be absolute was only so because he knew nothing of the outside. The world he thought was wrong has expanded into so many colours, so many experiences, so many people, and so many hours beyond that small window. Every day, he’s learning something new. Every day, you’re teaching him something new. He could never return to being a thoughtless doll now that you are in his world. Likewise, he could never return to treating the world like a doll house, thinking that everything can be defined by absolute and ironclad standards.

“I think with my own head now,” he promises you, “I am here by your side on my own accord, just to raise an example. Regardless of whether it is ‘right’ or ‘wrong’, I will stay here. That is how I know now that no one is or needs to be absolutely correct, not me, not mother.”

Leona Kingscholar:

Leona doesn’t want to give anything a damn in the middle of the night but he will sit straight and listen to you until he knows you’re fine, so you’d better start talking so he can get back to sleep.

You tell him you were dreaming of that magift tournament, that time when his laughs cut deeper than his claws, that time when he gave up on everything, everyone, and himself, once again. You recall the despair that made up his roar reverberating in your veins, you recall the sand and dryness that evokes a sense of helplessness, you recall the crimes he almost committed. You tell him you don’t want to lose him to the monster that everyone makes him out to be.

“Tch. And what can we do? What can you do? Can you crown me king? Can you change what my own people say about me?” Leona almost scoffs in his reply, cynical as always, though you shouldn’t be surprised, “Fact is, life’s not fair. There are things I can’t change no matter what I do, let alone you, herbivore.”

He doesn’t sound especially comforting with a frustrated hand at his temple, but you’ll have to understand his reassurance in his language, “But there are still battles I’ll have to take head on, and when I do, I want all the chess pieces at my disposal,” he gestures at himself, “be it a king,” while his tail points to you, “or a pawn.”

He was born to lead, it was just never made known to him. If you choose to be his kingdom, this time he won’t abandon his people that easily.

Azul Ashengrotto:

Azul pulls up a chair and sits in front of you looking the best he could in the middle of the night. He begins to calmly and soothingly ask you questions that would guide you to tell him what’s wrong.

You tell him you were dreaming of breathing in the sea, losing your breath over seeing his true form, in awe, in fear. He was not like himself, all his grievances bursting out as spilling ink, dark and spreading. You stared into his constricted pupils, crazed and furious and blue like the ocean, blue like ice, blue like tears. You tell him you fear the monster he always hid inside him, you fear that anger, that vengeance would take over him again.

Azul grimaces briefly. The implication that he would stoop to something which he so meticulously hid isn’t pleasant for him, he values his benevolent and sophisticated image after all. However, since it has happened once back then, and he certainly has not forgiven or forgotten how he had been wronged, so he at least acknowledges that your fear is well-justified.

“How rude of you, to accuse that I’d revert to being who I used to be?” he puts on his fake sad face which quickly transforms to all the confidence and charisma he has when roping someone into a contract. “I’ll have you know I am a changed man. Have you not seen the Mostro Lounge’s profit this month? Have you not seen my performance in the previous practical alchemy exam? No one here can make light of me.”

You silently note that he is still using achievements to “measure” his worth. But you sigh and relent, this will take time. And if anything happens while he’s still fragile, well, at least this time he won’t be alone.

Jamil Viper:

Jamil rushes in, alerted and concerned, but he runs a hand though his hair in relief when he finds you in one piece. He was about to excuse himself if you were fine, but he does notice the cold sweat running down your forehead.

In response to his worried questions, you answer that you were dreaming of the winter holiday, of being blasted to the ends of the dimension and your heart pounding with every icy breath you take because every second you waste on getting back was one step he edges closer to death. You were dreaming of his maniacal laughter, of all the things that were so raw, so violent, and yet so true. Not that you want to hold him back but… you’re afraid of losing him to the monster he’s capable of being.

For freedom, Jamil would give quite literally anything, and that hasn’t changed. He knew there would be prices to pay, sacrifices to make, he always knew, but the weight of those prices sank in for the first time after his overblot. He had a narrow vision, thinking that if he’d lose them anyway, what good is there in searching for treasures?

But after almost losing everything, it’s different. If he’s gonna be stuck here anyway, laying the groundwork for a better, smarter scheme, then why not take what he can to make this cage a little less miserable? The path he has to take before arriving at a destination can surely be paved into valuable memories too.

He places a hand on yours, “There… are things that I don’t want to risk in the life I’m living now, I can’t afford to be desperate like last time. But I will find a way. I will obtain everything I want. One day I’ll be free, not as a monster, but as me.”

#twisted wonderland #twstober #twst writing #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #jamil viper x reader #jamil viper #twisted wonderland writing #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst headcanons #twst requests #twst x reader #twst angst

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thatswhatsushesaid · 5 months

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this watershed moment between nie mingjue and meng yao is from cql, obviously, but imo it highlights the fundamental conflict between these two characters in all versions of the canon:

i am once again re-reading the entirety of the empathy flashback chapters because once i start, i just can't stop! there's just too much important information overflowing from this sequence of events! and considering this is the only lens through which we are able to look back at jin guangyao's past as meng yao--and considering how much that lens hates him at this point in canon--so much of what is presented to us as objective fact has to be examined more critically.

so, it bears repeating: all of this is nie mingjue's resentment-addled fierce corpse's recollection of events at least fourteen years in the past, communicated to the reader through two additional filters--empathy, and wei wuxian himself.

Meng Yao had probably carefully worked out how to avoid the vital areas. With both caution and composure, he pulled the sword out of his stomach, producing a string of small, bloody splashes, and pressed the wound—this was all he did to treat it. Nie MingJue, on the other hand, still remained in the posture that he used when trying to help Meng Yao. Half-kneeling with his head raised, their eyes met.

i mean. sure, i guess? this is related to an ask currently hanging out in my inbox that i haven't been able to answer yet (there are so many asks), but i think we really ought to consider just what a life-threatening gamble this was regardless. also painful! it is painful to stab yourself, and then to mash your hand against an open wound to stop the bleeding! why would anyone choose to do something like this unless they felt they had no other choice?

Nie MingJue didn’t say anything. Meng Yao didn’t say anything either. He sheathed his sword, bowed toward Nie MingJue, and sprinted away without looking back.

i've read a few posts criticizing meng yao in this moment either implying or flat out stating that if he can bow and sprint away, he clearly couldn't have been that injured. leaving aside that nie mingjue is perfectly capable of recognizing a serious injury when he sees one, wei wuxian also sees the blood splashing onto meng yao's body and clothes as he withdraws the sword from himself. so, he's hurt. he has seriously injured himself. that he still forces himself to bow before fleeing does seem significant to me. what else could he possibly have said? what would nie mingjue have wanted to hear him say anyway?

He had just acknowledged his mistake and agreed to receiving his punishment before feigning suicide and setting up a trap. Now, he was already long gone. It was probably Nie MingJue’s first time seeing such a shameless person, especially one that had just been the trusted aide whom he promoted himself.

i could live the rest of my life in this sentence (exaggeration. but only slightly), there is so much going on here--first, that wei wuxian feels confident enough in his understanding and interpretation of nie mingjue via empathy to presume that this is nie mingjue's first exposure to such 'shameless' behaviour, because let's be real, how can he possibly know that? like leaving aside the fact that he is the older brother of the jianghu's most dedicated and shameless drama queen, he's been a sect leader for years at this point. beyond that, he is a sect leader during a time of war. mingjue-xiong has seen some shit, ok? i think it is specifically because this supposed shamelessness comes from someone that he himself trusted and promoted, as wei wuxian next points out, that he is so furious.

this part is key, for me, because it emphasizes not the shamelessness (is it tho?) of meng yao's trickery, but that such trickery could be carried out by someone that nie mingjue himself had invested with such trust. he doesn't just feel betrayed by meng yao, though of course that is part of it. his pride has been injured. which makes sense, given the next part of the text:

For this, he flew into a terrible rage, being especially fierce during the Wen Sect’s battles. Even when Lan XiChen had the time to assist Langya, a few days later, his anger hadn’t died down one bit. As soon as he came, Lan XiChen laughed, “MingJue-xiong, what a temper you seem to be in. Where is Meng Yao? Why does he not come and douse your flames?”

i'm not sure i actually want to know what a 'terrible rage' from nie mingjue looks like given what we already know about his brutality on the battlefield. like... this is after he has decapitated wen ruohan's son, wen xu, and made a brutal display of his head and remains to send a message to qishan. meng yao's betrayal has triggered truly unprecedented levels of rage and fury from nie mingjue, something that was already escalating due to his focused cultivation with the sabre, but it results in a man who absolutely cannot handle hearing meng yao's name.

Nie MingJue, “Don’t mention such a person!”

see? (mingjue-xiong don't snap at lan xichen like that 🥺)

Without any exaggeration, he told Lan XiChen of how Meng Yao killed and planned to blame someone else, then feigned death and ran away. After he heard the story, Lan XiChen was also surprised, “How could this be? Maybe there was a misunderstanding?”

Nie MingJue, “I caught him right on the spot. What misunderstandings could there be?”

Lan XiChen thought for a moment, “Judging from his words, the person whom he killed had definitely done wrong. However, he should not have taken his life either. We are in harsh times, so it is quite difficult to determine who was at fault. I wonder where he is now.”

Nie MingJue spoke in a harsh tone, “He should hope that I don’t catch him. If I do, I’ll offer him as sacrifice to my saber!”

(where's a good theresalottounpackhere.gif when you need one)

first: "without any exaggeration" is doing quite a lot of narrative work! even if we accept that what nie mingjue recounts to lan xichen broadly conforms to what wei wuxian witnessed via empathy, what wei wuxian witnessed in the first place was still nie mingjue's recollection of the events as they transpired. wei wuxian did not witness these events himself with his own eyes. sure, i trust that nie mingjue is telling the truth when he shares this information with lan xichen, but he cannot be an objective source of information for wei wuxian--and i think it is significant that wei wuxian doesn't clock this.

second: i think this is why there is an understandable impulse to respond to lan xichen's circumspection with 'hey what the fuck??' when he says 'maybe there was a misunderstanding.' because we are right in the moment alongside wei wuxian, who does not recognize his own bias. and so we end up like, what do you mean, lan xichen! nie mingjue caught meng yao red-handed! wei wuxian-via-empathy told us so! how could we misunderstand any of this when wei wuxian confirmed for us that nie mingjue did not exaggerate any of his explanation?

but lan xichen's thoughtfulness and his instinct to pause, to seek out additional clarification and understanding, are perfectly rational responses given the circumstances, and ideally what he says is something any equally rational person would say in his position. two people he has invested with a great deal of his trust and esteem are at significantly crossed purposes, and he only has one half of the story. lan xichen obviously trusts that nie mingjue is telling him the truth as he recalls it; he just understands, as wei wuxian clearly cannot, that his understanding of this situation is incomplete until he hears the other half of the story from meng yao himself.

However, as though his words turned into a prophecy, during the next few years, it was almost as if Meng Yao had suddenly disappeared, as if he had sunk like a rock into the ocean. No trace of him was left.

Now, Nie MingJue loathed him in the same manner that he had once valued him. Whenever the name was mentioned, he put on an angered face, expressing things hard to explain in speech. When he was certain that no information could be found, he refused to discuss Meng Yao with another person ever again.

i'll wrap this post up shortly because i've already written much more than i initially intended, but i just want to highlight that literal years pass between their confrontation on the langya front and their bloody reunion in nightless city. that is a long time for nie mingjue to spend "loathing [Meng Yao] in the same manner that he had once valued him"--plenty of time for resentment brought on by his sabre cultivation technique to thoroughly sink its claws into his judgment, and his wounded pride.

#mdzs meta #jin guangyao #meng yao #nie mingjue #something i did not touch on in this post but that i really wanted to #is that while i don't disagree that nmj's judgment has been rattled #i don't think he himself wants to acknowledge that it has been rattled #i don't think he has the psychological bandwidth to handle doubting himself and what that doubt could mean for the war and for his sect #and so for me that rage and fury that follows the langya front encounter is a direct response to that doubt #in addition to having his pride injured #injured pride + doubting his judgment = angry murder sabre getting angrier and murder-y...er

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