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leandra-winchester · 3 days

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So. There's been a lot of speculation, and a lot of hot and lukewarm and some honest and valid takes about the new trailer and the potential of what might go down next ep.

I've been thinking thoughts, and I have my own personal stance on the matter. And no, I will not be 'taking criticism', because this is the way I view things in general, and it won't change. So this isn't me opening up a debate about this, this is just me sharing my personal views, which you absolutely can agree or disagree with. (So if your views on cheating are vastly different from mine, don't come at me telling me how wrong I am, I'm not doing that at you either)

That being said, here are my thoughts and beliefs.

Kissing isn't (automatically) cheating. For me, it highly, highly depends on the accompanying circumstances. There are kisses for shits and giggles that are not cheating. There are kisses happening under heavy influence of whatever substance - something that can render you legally not responsible for a lot of things, so how does it make you responsible for a moment's poor choice? There are kisses that are done deliberately with intention and feelings/high physical attraction involved, and THAT is cheating. When we look at the Buck/Lucy kiss, I didn't see it as huge a deal as many of the fandom did. The kiss itself somewhat fell into the second category. But what made it at the very least borderline cheating was the fact that Buck made a secret of it afterwards. Had he said "Look, something happened last night. I was drunk, then Lucy kissed me, and I didn't instantly pull back, but I didn't want to kiss her again or anything. I have no feelings for her whatsoever and I will watch myself in future a whole lot more to notice any signs of flirting, which, in hindsight, there were. I'm sorry." - then I think that's still grounds for a partner to be mad, sad, disappointed, but it's not really full-on cheating. Not in my book, by my definition.

Emotional cheating is much worse than physical cheating Being in love with someone and knowing it, imagining yourself to be with that other person, THAT is much more cheating by my definition than a fleeting kiss. And sometimes, depending on the circumstances, maybe even more than a drunken fumble or one night stand, but that is a very complex question. However, emotional cheating means you're not really in it with your current partner, pining for someone else but settling for what you can have out of convenience, fear of being left behind or some other highly egoistical motivation. That really sucks. (I've seen that take expressed on my dashboard as well, though with slightly different nuance to what I feel and believe, but pretty close)

So, taking these two of my underlying beliefs as the basis, what can I see happen in the next episode that would leave me feel okay with it, or happy about it, and what would make me feel iffy about it?

Let's start with the iffy.

Buck:

If, at any point in their drunken Hangover-movie escapades Buck and Eddie kiss, full on kiss (with maybe a little bit of tongue), and that kicks something lose in Buck, I would utterly hate that. Not that I wouldn't find it plausible that a kiss like that would trigger him realizing romantic feelings for Eddie, but that it happens now.

Someone else made a long post about negative stereotypes about bisexuals, and I agree. This is the promiscuity/bisexuals can't be trusted to be faithful stereotype, and I don't want Buck to ever be seen in that light.

Also, Buck JUST (and that post mentioned that too) convinced Tommy to come with him to the wedding, that he's ready for something... only to emotionally cheat (because it's that aspect for me rather than the kiss itself) on him the very next opportunity?

"But Tommy and Buck aren't in a relationship yet," I heard someone say, and well, yes. But this isn't REAL LIFE. It's writing. Things are crafted in a certain way to form a story, and stories have a purpose. The narrative gave us an arc where Buck seemingly wasn't ready for a relationship with a man yet, where he fucked up and had to fix that, had to take a leap and take some courage to make it work.

Just purely from a narrative standpoint, it would be so inconsistent to reverse that healthy step forward just one episode later.

From what we know about the episode, it also doesn't look like he's breaking up with Tommy in that episode. A lovely, potentially dramatic moment where Buck kisses Tommy in front of everyone as a means of 'coming out' is highly implied/likely. So that would mean him being aware of some feelings towards Eddie and still going through with that. And yeah. No. I'd really, really fucking hate that.

Eddie:

If they kiss at some point and it kicks something loose in Eddie, and he then goes back to Marisol... I'd have much less of a problem with that because it could still be explained and justified with him just being in utter panic about coming out. It would match the catholic guilt arc, and all his previous attempts at conforming to heteronormativity... BUT, if the relationship just continued as is and he'd actively use her as beard that would be shitty, even for poor confused, repressed, closeted Eddie.

The Not Iffy

On with Eddie:

If that kiss brings something to the surface in Eddie and he then breaks up with Marisol one episode later I would not consider that cheating or poor morals or anything of the sort. He wasn't aware of it until that moment, and as soon as he is aware of it and has had a little bit of time to process it, he draws the right consequences from it and breaks off a relationship he's not fully in.

So this would actually be fine to me. This could be the kick starter for a potentially long and complex arc for Eddie to a) come to terms with his sexuality and b) pine for Buck from a distance, because Buck is with Tommy and c) eventually, when the time is right, for Buddie to go canon.

Buck:

The kiss itself wasn't a serious or real kiss. I'd be okay with it, if it was some silly, exaggerated "MWAH" smack of the lips kiss, prompted by someone or something around them - I dunno, maybe one of the women there saying "Aww you're such a cute couple" and they going in for it just for shits and giggles; or Buck gushing about Tommy and what a great kisser he is and Eddie drunkenly, outwardly jokingly saying "Hey, I'm a great kisser too!" and them jokingly leaning in for a smooch, again, for shits and giggles.

Buck afterwards doesn't even remember it because it meant nothing in that moment, and so he's neither seriously physically nor emotionally cheating on Tommy in the slightest.

"But Buck has deep feelings for Eddie. How can he kiss him and not realize them?"

Well, see, Buck has been around Eddie for almost 6 years now and not realized them. They are so, so far past that getting to know and falling in love phase that it makes it a bazillion times more complicated to distinguish those deep platonic feelings from deep romantic feelings (because, what it comes down to in both instances is a deep bond; the bond of love you feel after years of dating isn't that different from a deep platonic bond. Again, Eros vs. Pragma and all that).

But Buck is *in love* with Tommy, he's just entered that exciting, chemically turbulent process of falling in love with someone which, with all the newly formed neural connections and all those hormones overrides anything else that has long since been present and is only now presented with the opportunity to take on a new nuance. Of course he doesn't get it, and he likely won't get it until much, much later, when he's falling out of love with Tommy again for whatever reason, or they break up amicably for whatever reason.

And THIS again is something that could easily go into the iffy, because I would really fucking HATE the implication that Buck needs to break up with Tommy to be with his One True Love. I don't want this to be a difficult and painful choice.

IF (when) Buddie goes canon, I want them both to be ready and free for it and not accidentally pushed towards it, or struggle with a guilty conscience for it, or hurt someone else about it. (Marisol wouldn't count in that context as Eddie would have broken up with her months ago and gone on his own long self-discovery trip).

So yes, even if for slightly different reasons, and even if my views on what constitutes 'cheating' may differ from a lot of yours, I agree that any actual MUTUAL feelings realization right now, under these external circumstances, would totally tarnish the beginning of the Buddie relationship.

Which also makes me hopeful it won't happen in such a way. Up until now, the writing has been extremely solid, and Buck's coming out arc has been done with so much care. I doubt they'd do something that ruins it. (But I'm not 100% sure of it either).

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 spoilers #this is not an invitation for debate #respectfual nuanced exchange and dialog #yes #but don't lecture me on my morals #I'm very solid and confident in them

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thetarttfuldickhead · 11 months

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Like Phil, I’d like to think that Jamie and Keeley still go to Brazil, in spite of the boys’ recent fuck-up, but I’d also like to think that Roy comes with them. Not because Jamie and Keeley can’t be friend on their own or wouldn’t have the best time doing Brazil together – they would! – but because I think Jamie might be conscious, given everything that’s gone down recently, of potentially upsetting what he currently perceives as a rather delicate balance.

Maybe he brings it up a few days later before they head over to Keeley’s for a joint apology, or maybe it happens already at the holy kebab place, once they’ve had a few bites and a chance to settle back into their normal; a little worse for wear, but with no lasting harm done.

And Jamie fiddles with his sleeves and makes little faces as he tries to decide what to say (and Roy notices and waits with some trepidation) and in the end he just comes right out and says it, because that’s what Jamie does, isn’t it?

“I asked Keeley to go to Brazil with me, for that Nike thing I’m doing.”

Roy blinks. He hadn’t known Jamie was doing a Nike thing. Jamie might have told him, but Roy usually stops listening whenever he starts blathering on about brands and clothes and shit, so yeah, if told he hadn’t heard.

“What did she say?” he asks after a slightly too long and awkward moment of Jamie looking up at him, almost through his fucking eyelashes, trying to gauge his reaction.

“She said yes.” And hastily, as if worried what Roy might say or do if given a moment to, he adds: “I didn’t do it to try to get back together or anything. I mean, I do wanna get back together and she’s my friend and I love her and I thought we’d have a great time, yeah, but also, she’s great at PR and all that stuff, so. Yeah. That’s why I asked her to come. Make sure I don’t fuck it up.”

And because you want her to be your girlfriend. Roy doesn’t say it, though. Neither of them want a repeat of what went down at the bar. This isn’t Jamie trying to goad him or hurt him, he’s pretty fucking sure of that, so he’ll listen carefully to everything Jamie has to say, and then he’ll react like a fucking grown-up.

Probably. Possibly.

“Anyway, I think you should, like, come with us.”

Fucking what now? “What?”

“You should come with me and Keeley to Brazil.” Jamie is nodding his head decisively, as if repeating the statement has fully convinced him of its veracity.

“You want me to come with you and Keeley to fucking Brazil?” Roy is aware of sounding like a demented parrot, but he doesn’t give a fuck, does he, because he doesn’t want there to be any fucking room for misinterpretation here.

Jamie doesn’t seem particularly concerned about Roy’s tone. Too used to it, probably. “Um, yeah. Yeah. I mean, probably can’t get Nike to pay for it, right, but you’re rich, so you can just get your own ticket and you can stay with me and Keeley in this villa they’ll set us up in. Can’t mind that.”

Which all sounds very reasonable, of course, but still doesn’t answer the most pressing question: “Why?”

Jamie makes a face. “What do you mean, why? Because I don’t want shit to be weird between us, mate. And I think it’d be weird if Keeley and I went away and you stayed here after what happened, you know. Besides,” he adds, and suddenly he looks slightly shy; younger than he actually is, and vulnerable, “It’d probably be fun, yeah? All three of us going, together. Because we’re friends and all.”

And there’s something sharp and jagged turning in Roy’s gut at that, because underneath Jamie’s claim there’s a note of uncertainty that Roy had no trouble whatsoever guessing the origin of, and he adds it to the long list of things he hates himself for.

He doesn’t know how to express any of that, so what he says is, “Yeah. I guess. I’ll think about it.”

Jamie’s grin is immediate and wide; relieved and triumphant in equal measure, like he’s already won – like he already knows for a fact that Roy’s going to say yes.

Roy can’t even find it in him to mind that the little prick is right.

And then they all go to Brazil and I’m currently thinking that nothing further really happened between them there, because apparently they all need to do a little more thinking and feeling and figuring themselves out, but I’m sure they still had a grand, grand time of it.

#just want to be very clear that i absolutely think that jamie and keeley could and should do things on their own #as should keeley and roy #and roy and jamie #no matter what form their future relationship takes #i just think that RIGHT NOW jamie might be conscious of things getting weirdly skewed if him and keeleys goes off on their own #and he very much wants to get back with keeley but he's not ready to sacrifiece his relationship with roy for it #so FOR NOW it's a little bit of a balancing act #jamie tartt #roy kent #roy & jamie #roy/keeley/jamie #roy x jamie x keeley #ficlet #ish #i am trying to write a serious meta about the bar fight AND answer some asks but i keep getting distracted #whoops innit

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ssahotchnerr · 2 months

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girl i am BEGGING you to write a hotch story with his beard and reader doesnt know he has it because he never told her and when he comes back shes more in love with him!!! you can take it any direction you want

off guard

hehehe 🤭 cw; fem!reader, established relationship, heavy suggestiveness, fluff and bearded aaron 😵‍💫<3

after what felt like forever, came the long awaited knock on the door.

"finally." you breathed out as you threw the door open, immediately tucking yourself into aaron's chest and wrapping your arms around his middle.

the longer he was in your hold, the more you tightened your arms - as if you would blink and he'd be right back in pakistan, miles and miles away from you yet again.

it was late, or early depending on how you looked at it. the moment you received the message aaron was back in the states - prematurely and under urgent circumstances - you had insisted the second he had wrapped up, no matter the time, to come directly and strictly to your apartment.

lucky for you, he had already planned on doing so regardless.

"god i missed you." aaron sighed out in relief just as much as you, the empty void in his heart filling at last, making him feel whole again.

he had spent countless nights fantasizing of you being in his arms, the feeling near and distant simultaneously, as if he could reach out and grasp it. for the first month overseas, he had difficulty sleeping even, so used to sleeping beside you - the familiar weight of you laid on him, matching his breathing to yours, or the fact you were simply near.

the longing for you had been torturous. and at last here you were, right where you belonged.

"i almost can't believe it," you mumbled into his t-shirt, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. "five months was too long. too, too long."

you loosened your hold, just enough to peer up at him, just now getting a look at him. however, you found yourself taken aback, any eased, impending cries halting at once.

it was your aaron - your loving, wonderful aaron - staring back at you, but it didn't look like him.

his hair was longer, his body a bit more lean, but the major difference; a beard graced his face.

you've seen aaron with some stubble - not shaving during a weekend off, or his occasional five-o-clock shadow. but that was the result of a mere few days. this was months in the making, and it wasn't unwelcome in the slightest.

endless words could describe the sight before you, but your mind and mouth had run both dry. it was hot, to put it bluntly.

"jack hates it too." aaron admitted as his hands fell to your waist - not daring to part contact, mistaking your hesitancy for dislike. "i was going to shave it, but you did say to come right over-"

"hey- no." you blurted out, blinking up at him. "who said i hated it?"

his eyebrows furrowed, surprised. "you don't?"

"absolutely not," you insisted, looking almost offended at the proposition. you touched his cheek, feeling the coarse hair under your soft fingertips and igniting something deep within you. "quite the opposite, actually."

"really?" a pleased smirk formed on his face, his eyes darkly intrigued and amused.

"just when i thought you couldn't get more attractive." you smirked right back, toying with his shirt. "trust me, i like it more than you know."

aaron's fingers dug into your hips, backing you into your apartment, kicking the door shut behind with his foot.

"please tell me you have tomorrow off, because you won't be stepping outside this apartment if i can help it." you pleaded, your voice coming out as an eager whine.

"well, the team is to be evaluated by the senate committee, hearing date pending. so for the foreseeable future," aaron bit down on his bottom lip lightly, his eyes locked on yours. "i'm all yours."

"good. mainly because i missed you, but that," you eyed his beard again, a heavy breath escaping you. the ends of your lips quirked up into a mischievous smile, and aaron's lips found yours hungrily. as he frantically continued to back you towards the direction of your bedroom, you mumbled into his lips. "we can have fun with that."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x fem!reader #aaron hotchner smut #criminal minds smut

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fallingdownhell · 3 months

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How do you think the Sumeru boys would react to their s/o getting shrunk?

An interesting scenario... 👀 Characters Included: Tighnari; Cyno; Alhaitham; Kaveh (+Wanderer) Content: gender neutral reader; established relationship; idk if this classifies as crack??; bit of comedy; bits of fluff Word count: 910 words Have fun<3

Tighnari

I personally see this going one of two ways

first, when realizing what has happened, he'd drop everything, all his work and responsibilities, and try to figure out how this happened and how to turn you back to normal again

or, he would want to do that, but he just can't because something really important is happening today... then, as shitty as this sounds, he'd just take you along with him, like in a backpack or pocket or something. Because he does not trust that nothing won't happen to you while he's out and about

whichever it is, he'd be very gentle with your tiny form and take very good care of you

when first noticing your current predicament, Tighnari would be shocked, maybe laugh a little bit, but he'd soon focus on helping you figure things out

he's not too keen on you staying this way for a longer period of time, or even forever, so he'd work hard on finding a solution

overall okay reaction, very helpful and polite about it, though he does put out an occaisonal comment here and there. But it's all in good fun, so don't worry

Cyno

oh boy

you best prepare to be the butt of every of his jokes for the foreseeable future from now on

even if you manage to turn you back to normal, he will not let you forget about this incident, ever

would probably laugh at you, questioning you how you even managed that in the first place

but all jokes aside, he IS worried about you, so he does the only thing he can think about

he grabs you very carefully and carries you to Tighnari, hoping that his friend and Forest Ranger might know or can help to come up with a solution to the problem

he'll stay there with you until you're back to normal, that means that his work will be put on hold, no matter what anyone has to say about it

will turn restless and worried if there's no easy or quick solution available, but will do his best to support you, even though he will still make jokes about you

Alhaitham

shock and surprise is his first initial reaction

like, frozen on his spot, kinda shocked

does not know how to react appropriately or what to say, at all. One of the few times in his life where he's actually speechless

once he's recovered from the shock, he's asking you a whole lot of question. If you remember how this happened, how you feel, if you noticed anything unusual, if you maybe know how to revert back, etc

just, literally any question that comes to his mind, really

he views this entire situation very neutral, like some sort of experiment that he wants to figure out

and since you're the only one affected and involved, it's only obvious that he asks you all these questions

plus, by answering them, he might be able to figure out what's going on and how to revert you back to normal

if he can't come up with a solution on his own, he'd go into the House of Daena, searching for every book available that is loosely connected to the issue at hand

should that still not deliver results, he'll help you consult doctors and other specialists in order to help you get better again

Kaveh

full on panic mode activated

he sees what has happened to you, and freaks out over it

almost impossible to calm him down again. And since your voice is a lot quieter in your tiny form, you have to almost shout out your lungs in order to get his attention again

out of the two of you, you're definitely the calmer and more levelheaded one in this situation

he's helping you with whatever you need. When you ask him to take you to the doctors, he does so, no questions asked

though you have to constantly remind him to not squeeze you so hard in his hands

cut him some slack, will you? He's not used to something like this, he has to constantly remind himself to treat you carefully and gently

will freak out again if no one can figure out what is wrong with you or how to treat you

he may not have much money, but you best believe he's putting every single Mora he has into trying to figure this out and get you back to your normal self

Wanderer

shocked at first, but will soon start to tease you about it relentlessly

he'll lovingly call you names like "shorty", "shortcake", and other stuff, now that you're so much tinier than him

he's having his fun teasing you for some time, but in the end, he does worry about you and wants you back to your usual self

since he doesn't trust you to be by yourself while like this, he carefully picks you up when he goes to pay Nahida a visit, thinking that she might know something about what has happened to you

together, the three of you would put your heads together, trying to figure something out

would feel annoyed if you're still in this state by the end of the day, but tries not to show it. It's not your fault after all, and you can't really do anything about it, so he doesn't want to let it out on you

but you best believe that it's his top priority from now on to get to the bottom of this. And should he find out that someone else is responsible for this, then they best prepare , because he won't go easy on them should he ever come across them...

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hazbin-writings-and-musings · 3 months

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Lucifer Morningstar x Reader Height Difference Headcanons

AKA What it's like to love a Short King

I was already inspired after my last headcanon post, and have some more fun little ideas for Lucifer X Reader, namely in regards to our dear Fallen Angel being the short one in the relationship. Got a bit sillier and spicier with this one, and I hope you're all ready for some very spicy ones in the near future!

- He's accustomed to being shorter than most, and while he's not one to accept mockery of any kind, he's more than comfortable enough with himself to accept nicknames and loving platitudes about his height from a romantic partner. Hearing you sweetly refer to him as a "Short King" will always get him smirking, and an affectionate "Little Lucy" makes him melt every time. Cooing over how cute he is is also sure to put him in a happy, purring mood, to the point he'll end up laying his head on your lap if you'll let him. Hearing about how darling you find him whilst having your fingers run through his hair might just be his favorite pastime.

- Between the wings and his angelic powers, he doesn't actually struggle to reach anything high up, but he will still appreciate it if you preemptively grab the item in question. That's not to say he won't ask, but he'll always make a point to be as silly about it as possible when he does. Requesting a lift is his preferred way of doing so, and he'll take his sweet time lounging in your arms after grabbing what he needs, even stretching out bridal style for a bit of carrying. Angelic magic can make him light as a feather for extra long bouts of carrying if you're willing to indulge him.

- He'll be the first to tell you all about the advantages of his stature, and at the top of his list is how often he finds himself at bust height, which is quite the gift for a breast man like himself. Yours are the only ones he's interested in, obviously, but he loves how easy it is for him to come in for a hug and tuck his head in between. You'll find him doing this wether he's had a great day or a terrible one, with the former being to celebrate and the latter being to get some much needed comfort somewhere warm and soft. He can't help it if your boobs are just the perfect place to put his face.

- He's going to borrow your hoodies. Granted, "borrow" is an interesting term for something you'll never get back, but he always ensures you're compensated in some way or another. No top of yours that fits him is safe, and the looser it fits over his smaller frame, the better. These oversized clothes are never worn outside the privacy of his quarters, and he wears them most frequently when circumstances keep the two of you apart, particularly at night. Having something of yours all around him is like having your embrace from a distance, and he can't help being sentimental enough to find comfort in that, even after so many eons.

- He's small, but you'll never forget that he's an absolute powerhouse, if only because it's beyond obvious when you're in his presence. Angelic power practically hums through the air if you listen closely, and that's just what you can sense at a distance. Things are even more intense when you come into contact with his lean physical form. For all of his grace and agility, he doesn't lack for physical strength in the slightest, and you learn that the first time you feel him support your body with his. He'll never once give even a hint of effort, let alone struggle, no matter how considerably you tower over him. Carrying you bridal style takes no more effort than one would to lift a couple of grapes. As such, he'll happily take you into his arms or lap, and showing off his unfathomable strength in romantic gestures always gets him puffing his chest with pride.

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lancermylove · 2 months

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Random Relationship HCs

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Pairing: Leona, Malleus, Azul, Riddle with gn!Reader

Warning: None

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You and Leona have late-night study sessions, cramming for exams at the last minute. Somehow, he knows everything without even studying. Meanwhile, he is a bad influence on you and watching you frantically studying with an amused smirk.

He loves napping with you, especially under the afternoon sun. The best part is that even if you fall asleep with him on public grounds, no one will bother you because they don't want to get on Leona's bad side.

If you are competitive, well, let the competition begin! He will compete with you in anything, but beware that he doesn't lose, and in case he loses, he doesn't take it well. Convincing him to be happy will take a lot of kisses and cuteness.

He takes you to explore the vast grounds of Savanaclaw. Sometimes, the two of you discover hidden spots that not even Leona knew existed.

If you are the type of person who can be with Leona but be worlds apart at the same time, you will find yourself sitting beside him or in the same room with a comfortable silence. Words are not needed for him to understand you.

Since he likes the silence of the nighttime, Malleus invites you on walks in the serenity of the moonlight. Neither of you say anything, hold hands, and take in the beauty of nature as the cool night breeze caresses your skin.

Malleus might be the future king of Briar Valley, but he treats you as an equal and values your opinions and decisions. It doesn't matter to him if you are royalty or not, and he will make sure everyone who attempts to look down on you knows that.

At every given moment, his eyes are on you. The prince wants to ensure you are happy and not hiding any sadness or pain from him. One of his goals in life is to keep you happy, and he intends to meet it no matter what.

If he thinks you are serious about the relationship, Malleus will envision his future with you. He may or may not say it out loud, depending on how comfortable you would be with the topic. However, he had already envisioned the two of you ruling Briar Valley together. And opening his eyes every morning to see your lovely face beside his. Just the thought makes his heart pound against his chest.

You and Riddle sometimes banter over the rules of Heartslaybul. What's wrong with drinking a certain type of tea after 8 pm? Who cares how many sugar cubes someone puts in their drink or if you put honey? Who cares what clothes are worn where? But Riddle disagrees with you, but it's more of a playful argument than a serious one. In the end, the two of you laugh and hug each other.

You two often study together. Not only do you help each other, but you also get to spend time with each other. Moreover, Riddle is good at explaining things in a simplistic manner, so he makes it easy for you to understand anything you have issues with.

Riddle has a habit of overworking and overstressing, so at times, you have to pull him into his room and force him to relax. He likes to put his head on your lap as you stroke his hair. Sometimes, he falls asleep when you do that.

If you have a sweet tooth, specifically for strawberry tarts, the two of you visit local bakeries together to try out different desserts or ask Trey to bake some for you if he has time.

When Azul has time, he takes you to the depths of the sea for underwater excursions. Who knows, maybe one of these days, you might find hidden treasures or secrets beneath the waves. Just don't ask him to show you his octopus form because he will most definitely say no.

Azul treasures the small moments that happen between you and him, be it you drinking something and a mustache forming on your upper lip or you laughing about something silly; he cherishes it all.

He likes it when you rely on him as it shows your trust in him. So, if you are struggling with anything and go to him, Azul will drop everything and help you. Depending on your mood, he may tease you.

After Mostro Lounge closes, Azul likes to have dinner with you. In the candlelight and glow of the ocean water, he enjoys asking you about your day and telling you about his day. It gives him a sense of a family vibe, like spouses having dinner with each other. He didn't say that out loud, and you didn't heard anything.

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➣ Twisted Wonderland [1][2] ➣ Main Masterlist

➣ Buy me a Ko-fi? ➣ Commission: Open ➣ HC/Scenario Requests: Closed || Quick Ask Requests: Closed || GIF Requests: Closed

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eldritch-nightmare · 6 months

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Can you make a scenario about how the pastas would react after an argument? Like, if the reader left to get some fresh air? (I crave angst)

-💫Anon

a/n: indeed i can my friend here's a healthy amount of (very mild) angst just for you. i'm so totally gonna use this idea in a future chapter for the silly lil scenarios book as well because uh angst. maybe the prompt got away from me just a little bit i won't lie.

how do they react after an argument?

includes: jeff the killer, laughing jack, slenderman, nina the killer, eyeless jack, jane the killer, candy pop, clockwork, ticci toby, nurse ann, x virus, kagekao, jason the toymaker, the puppeteer, homicidal liu, sully, the bloody painter, the doll maker, zalgo, and hobo heart.

warnings: the aftermath of an argument, relationship disputes, some of these are healthy and some of these are not, inconsistent length.

JEFF THE KILLER would honestly be more upset if you walked out after an argument. he's already upset enough as it is, so you turning your back to him and storming out just makes his blood boil. he won't follow after you, but he'll definitely disappear for the next few days. he really isn't the best at resolving arguments, no matter how small they are. and unless he really fucks up, then he isn't going to apologize even if he is in the wrong. he's jeff the fucking killer, what the hell does he have to feel sorry about? you should consider yourself lucky that he didn't gut you for pissing him off.

if you want to have any form of resolve to this argument, you'll have to force the conversation because he will actively try to shut you down. he can't. he literally can't. resolution is not something he is good at, and unless you're the one to apologize, even if you aren't the one who is at fault, he's just not going to let any of this resolve. does that make him an asshole? yeah, it does. does he feel guilty? just a little. does that change anything? no, not really.

LAUGHING JACK, similar to jeff, would feel more upset over you walking away from the fight rather than the fight itself. he can come off as pretty scary during an argument, especially if it's one where he feels like he's in the right. he gets frustrated easily, and he's just overall a very expressive person, so. and he can get pretty fucking mean if he wants to, so yeah honestly you needing to walk away makes complete and total sense and he knows that it makes sense but that doesn't make him any less upset.

he'll just blame it on his abandonment issues or something because seeing you leave just to go and calm down should not have hurt as much as it did. and he debates going after you but he ultimately decides it would be best if he didn't. he wants to resolve this though, and he'll try but it'll be painfully awkward because, i mean, yeah.

SLENDERMAN is, by default, a pretty scary being the begin with so i imagine an argument with it would be pretty unnerving. it isn't used to people arguing with it, that's for sure. i think it would be more amused than upset, seeing such a small being stare up at it as if trying to intimidate it... it's a cute sight to see, that's for sure. it'll keep that thought to itself, of course. it imagines that saying such a thing out loud may only make things worse.

slender won't be upset when you walk away. it understands that you're just going to cool off. it'll take this time to clear its own thoughts until the two of you are ready to talk again and clear up the tension.

NINA THE KILLER would be immensely frustrated seeing you walk away. she'll probably let out a groan and tell you to come back, but she won't follow after you. she understands that if the two of you kept arguing any longer, things would only get worse. she knows that, so she'll use this as a chance to calm down herself. nina gets over things easier than you would think, and if this argument wasn't over anything major then the next time you see her, she'll most likely be back to her usual self.

she'll probably be the first to apologize as well, even if she feels as if she's not the one at fault. she can't stand when you're upset at her, so just accept her apology so the two of you can move on, yeah?

EYELESS JACK is always viewed as mature and in control of his emotions. and he is. a little too in control if we're being honest here. for most arguments you guys may have, he'll keep his cool and will try to understand your point of view and where you're coming from. there are times, however, when the control he has over his emotions slips, and you get reminded that oh. your boyfriend is a cannibalistic demon that can literally kill you in the blink of an eye. he really doesn't mean to scare you, but it's definitely a good thing you choose that moment to walk away to cool off because he has to physically force himself to not go after you.

and once he calms down, he will apologize. it's a genuine apology, one written all over his face. he never wants to or means to invalidate you and your emotions, and he never wants to make you scared of him.

JANE THE KILLER would probably be the first to walk away from an argument, if we're being fairly honest. if this is richardson we're talking about, then she's definitely more mature about it and politely suggests that you both take fifteen minutes to cool off before continuing the conversation. she does it because it's one, a healthy thing to do for your relationship, and two, while she is heavily in control of her emotions, the liquid hate running through her veins enhances her anger and it would be really bad if she genuinely got angry.

if this is arkensaw, i think she'll be a little less mature than she would like. she portrays herself as someone in control of her emotions, but her emotions and her hatred are what drive her. she does her best to her burning-hot anger in check but if you two have an argument, then it's fairly difficult. if you walk away first, then it'll only serve to upset her more, but she won't go after you. honestly, she'll probably even avoid you in the coming days because her anger lingers. it always lingers.

CANDY POP thinks it's cute that this little argument of yours got you so worked up that you had to walk away from him. honestly hell yeah if i were you i'd walk away from him as well because there is simply no winning with this guy. worst man you could ever argue with, to be honest.

but as we all know, his mood can change in an instant with no warning so. one moment, he thinks you walking away from him is cute and adorable. the next, he's getting frustrated and following after you because you don't get to walk away from him, silly. haven't you realized that he owns you?

CLOCKWORK, while she has her own anger issues and tends to get easily frustrated by the smallest of things, does try her best to keep her emotions in check if you two ever have an argument. it's not easy, and there have been times when she's snapped at you, but she always apologizes immediately after.

you walking away would make sense. she understands, she knows that you both need to take time to calm down before things get too heated. she gets it. but depending on what you two are arguing about, doing so could only serve to make her more angry. it's... frustrating, really. she won't follow after you though, because she knows it's what is best.

TOBY would want you to walk away. he needs it, to be honest. he tries to avoid getting into arguments with you for various different reasons. arguing with you stresses him out more than he would like it to, and it reminds him of the hold you have on him. you walking away from the argument would give him time to clear his head and cool off.

once you've both calmed down, he'll probably be the first to approach you because he cannot stand the awkward tension that always lingers after arguments with people. he wants to clear the air so this can all just be water under the bridge. it'll be a painfully awkward conversation though. he's not good at... resolving arguments. never had a positive example, to be honest.

NURSE ANN struggles to speak, so i think she would try to avoid getting into an argument because she feels as if she won't be able to properly get her point across. but arguments are bound to happen sooner or later, even in the healthiest relationships. and ann, to put it simply, is a very angry person. she keeps that anger in check when you're around, but it's literally impossible to not slip up a few times.

since ann rarely ever vocally speaks, her anger is typically conveyed in her stares and her jerky gestures as she signs. you walking away is the smartest thing you could do in that moment, leaving her alone to stew in her always-burning anger that she'll choose to take out on any nearby destructible objects or some sad poor soul that just so happens to trespass at her hospital in the coming hours.

X-VIRUS seems like the type of guy who has never really been in any arguments, to be honest. maybe when he was at the orphanage he got into a few petty arguments between the other kids, but nothing that would warrant needing to walk away, y'know? and i definitely don't think he'd treat the argument seriously, brushing off your words and whatnot.

he only realizes that you were genuinely angry with him when you walked away. it's definitely like... a slap in the face that oh. i'm a fucking asshole. he's not really sure what to do in this moment, and he waits until you come back on your own to try and apologize. but he's not the best at apologies.

KAGEKAO wouldn't treat the argument seriously at all. at least, not at first. honestly, he'd probably purposefully get you even more upset just to get a reaction out of you. does that make him an asshole? oh, most certainly. he just likes seeing you feel anything towards him, even if it's anger. he likes getting a reaction out of you because it's him you're reacting to. and it's entertaining as well, though you don't need to know that.

when you walk away, he'll feel a little frustrated at not being able to see you but he won't follow after you. he knows when to stop his antics. shocking, i know. and, if you're lucky, he may even hold you in his arms once you calm down. it's his way of an apology, i suppose.

JASON THE TOYMAKER fucking hates arguing with you. you're his other half, so arguing with you makes him feel sick to his stomach because what if... what if you aren't the one? he likes you too much to lose you, so you have to be the one. he definitely seems like he'd try to keep the argument short, and he'll be relieved when you walk away to cool off.

you don't try to leave him afterward, even if he was at fault for whatever you two may have been bickering over. that's good, really. that means you want to stay with him, even if you two have arguments like this. that's... that's so good.

THE PUPPETEER can't stand when anyone argues with him, so yeah, any argument you may have with him will be horrible and tense and it will not be pretty. he has to be the one to get the final word. he has to be the one in the right, even if he isn't. you must be aware of this, right? i mean, you're (hopefully, i assume) willingly sticking around this guy, right? so you should know that there's no winning with him.

and you walking away is simply not something he'll take kindly to. it's something that'll more than likely get a how dare you reaction out of him. you're a fool if you think he's just going to let you walk away. no, he'll either follow after you, or he'll pull you back with his strings. the conversation isn't over until he says that it's over.

HOMICIDAL LIU definitely does try to avoid any potential arguments with you. to be honest, most of your arguments with him will more than likely stem from his almost blatant disregard for his health and safety when he's injured as well as his almost suffocating habit of needing to protect you and keep you safe. it's inevitable, even if it's something he tries so desperately to avoid. that desperation is what tends to lead to arguments as well, if we're being honest.

he's not upset when you walk away. honestly, he's glad that you do. he always feels pretty damn awful whenever you two fight, and he patiently waits until you're ready to pick things back up so you two can resolve things and move on.

SULLY listens to everything you say with rapt attention. the only thing that matters to him at that moment is whatever you two are arguing about. hell, he doesn't give a shit about the argument itself rather than what you say, the expressions you make, and your tone of voice. every little gesture or movement you make catches his attention. honestly, if you asked him what you two were arguing about, he'd just look at you with a slightly confused expression because he's already forgotten.

and when you walk away to cool off and get some air, he has to restrain himself from following after you. he forces himself to sit down and he bites his fist as his mind hyper-focuses on every word you said and the way you looked at him and just... yeah, he's already moved on from the argument he just wants to see your face and hear your voice again.

THE BLOODY PAINTER is definitely not someone you want to have an argument with, honestly. not because he's an angry person or scary to get into an argument with or anything like that, no. he's just... very apathetic. it'll feel like you're arguing with a brick wall rather than a person, and you'll maybe even feel as if he doesn't care about you or your feelings. he just stares at you, blank-faced and monotoned.

once you realize that this argument is going literally nowhere, you leave to calm yourself down and he stays behind. it's not that he doesn't care about you and your feelings, he does, truly, he just... well... i could go into heavy heavy detail about his apathy when it comes to arguments but to spare you the length of that, just know that he does care, he's just absolutely horrific at showing it. once you come back, he will apologize for not better expressing himself and for unintentionally invalidating you and your feelings. he'll be better, though it will take time for him to become expressive.

THE DOLL MAKER seems like the type of person who wouldn't handle arguments well, i think. he's a fairly closed-off person and has some trouble conveying his thoughts and feelings sometimes, so i think it would stress him out a bunch if he got into a fight with you. depending on how bad the argument is, he'll either try to diffuse the situation or he may get angry and make things worse.

the moment you walk off, vine will be throwing himself into work to both calm himself down and distract himself from any potentially needless thoughts. he'll certainly try his best to resolve the conflict with you once you've both taken time to calm down but it'll definitely be stiff.

ZALGO would be very amused if you try arguing with him over something. you, a silly little mortal that somehow managed to catch his interest, are trying to argue with him, an eldritch horror beyond human comprehension that literally creates chaos for shits and giggles? how adorable. he's not going to take you seriously at all, i hope you know that.

and even if you walk away, you won't exactly be alone. zalgo is always there with you, even if not physically. a part of him is stuck with you, so he's always able to watch you, to talk to you. he thinks you're being dramatic for getting upset over something that he deems to be so utterly insignificant. there won't be any form of conflict resolution with him, so don't expect any form of apology or empathy or anything of that sort.

HOBO HEART you gotta be careful with, i think. the last time he felt as if he'd been wronged by the person he loved, he tore her heart out. not to say he'd tear your heart out over a minor argument or anything like that, no, that would be pretty petty and... he doesn't really think he's a terrible enough person to do that. maybe. depending on how serious the argument is.

he'll be a little disheartened when you walk away because he would rather clear up the air and tension immediately rather than wait but he understood, somewhat, that it'd be better if you both took time to cool off before either of you tried to resolve the conflict hanging in the air.

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pinchofhoney · 6 months

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Hi, could you write something for Coryo x reader were the reader is close if not equally as evil in the end. How would that relationship work? idk just a thought I had use it if you wish

crack in the mirror

coriolanus snow x fem!reader

word count: 1.8k

warning: i think none

summary: Many cling to the belief of their own goodness, until they meet someone who's just like them.

a/n: hii, thank you so much for your request!! i hope you'll enjoy what i've written for you!<33

pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for

taglist: @watercolorskyy

gif is not mine, credit to the owner

How did it all begin?

With the 10th Hunger Games, where your academic excellence earned you the role of mentor to one of the tributes.

It was a time of innocence and youthful ambition, back when your paths met within the shadowy corridors of the Capitol's Academy. You and Coriolanus were close friends, unstained by the cruelty that life had in store for you and you pretty often looked back on those days, memories of laughter, shared dreams, and an unwavering friendship etched in your mind.

The two of you were bound by a shared ambition, shining among the brightest stars, each destined for greatness in the eyes of those who believed in you. The world was your playground, and you were determined to conquer it. Little did you know how that fateful year, with its trials and tribulations, would set the course of your life on a much darker path.

As the mentor to Treech from District 7, you hadn't yet embraced the darkness that would soon consume you. Back then, you were as eager as your colleagues, hoping to prove your worth, do your best, and guide your tribute to victory. It was pretty cruel twist of fate that Lucy Gray Baird, with her haunting charm and cunning nature, would change the course of everything.

In the heart of those unforgettable 10th Hunger Games, within the unforgiving arena, your dreams and aspirations slowly began to twist and corrode. Ambition transformed into ruthless manipulation, friendship into subtle deception, and innocence into a devouring thirst for power. The venomous snake mutt that took Treech's life before your very eyes became a symbol of the ruthless transformation that was gradually overtaking you.

That year marked the beginning of your involvement in the Games and the emergence of a darkness that would one day reflect the very core of President Snow himself. The metropolis watched, captivated by the spectacle of the tributes battling for their lives, while behind the scenes, a bitter change took root.

As you stood alongside the other students in the viewing room, preoccupied with the tributes, a chill ran down your spine. You didn't yet grasped the feeling, but something fundamental had shifted within you. You couldn't shake the realization that in the Capitol, victory meant survival, and survival allowed for anything. Lucy Gray's actions, no matter how brutal, were merely a reflection of the society to which you belonged.

Coriolanus tried to hold onto the purity of your friendship, to keep the darkness at bay, but you were the values he progressively ignored. Ambition has a way of distorting even the best intentions, and the path you had chosen was covered in shadows and secrecy.

As the Games progressed, the transformation hastened. The bonds you had formed with others became instruments of manipulation, and you enjoyed your newfound ability to bend their will to your desires.

The suffering of each tribute, each extinguished life, stoked the icy flames of ambition within you. You clutched to the logic that to climb up the Capitol's hierarchy, you had to be willing to destroy all who stood in the way. Your heart grew cold, your smile more deceitful, and your soul darkened, much like the future President of Panem that Coriolanus didn't yet realize he would become.

The Games ended with Treech taking the third place, a result you considered an absolute failure. It served as the catalyst for your final descent into the abyss. You had only tasted a little bit of success, and you hungered for more. The purity of your friendship with Coriolanus had been definitely tarnished, and the darkness that enveloped you continued.

The 10th Hunger Games and the Gamemakers marked not just the beginning of a change within you, but also foreshadowed the dark days to come.

You and Coriolanus would be leaders of a world where cruelty and manipulation held authority.

You had come a long way since those innocent days at the Academy, where laughter and shared dreams were the currency of friendship. As the Head Gamemaker, you wielded power over life and death, orchestrating the annual Hunger Games spectacle that captivated the Capitol.

Your importance in the Capitol was undeniable, but the bonds of friendship that once connected you to young Snow had weakened, stretched to their limits, and threatened to break. Since your graduation from the Academy, the warmth of your interactions had been replaced by a chilling formality. The echoes of your former closeness had grown faint, drowned out by the sounds of the ruthless Games you helped design.

Coriolanus, still crawling in his presidency, remained in your life as a hint of your teenage years and shared mentorship past. He was both intrigued and disturbed by the ideas you injected into the Games each year, but he never consciously acknowledged the rot that had taken root within him as well.

As the Head Gamemaker, you reveled in the dark art of power, where tributes became pawns and suffering was blend into the very fabric of the arena. Your ambitions had propelled you to the highest echelons of Capitol society, but the biggest cost had been the destruction of the humanity that once defined you.

Determined, you made your way to the meeting room, eager to introduce Coriolanus to your plan for the 23rd Hunger Games.

He was already there, wearing an expression that mixed curiosity with apprehension. You greeted him with a cool nod, fully aware of how your interactions had grown more formal over the years.

“Coryo,” you began, saying the familiar diminutive you'd used back at the Academy. The warmth of that old friendship may have cooled, but the nickname had grown in you, a habit you couldn't shake when you were alone with him. “I've prepared something truly phenomenal for this year's Games. Something that will cause goosebumps on the skin of every viewer, let alone the tributes in the arena,” you said, locking your gaze with your old friend with a mysterious smirk on your lips.

In response, Coriolanus leaned in with growing curiosity. “Please, continue,” he urged, which only caused a wider smile on your face.

You gestured toward a holographic projection on the wall, revealing a sinister, genetically created creature. Its elongated limbs, razor-sharp claws, and grotesque, misshapen features created a nightmarish creation.

“This,” you declared, “is the Umbra Noctis. It's a creature designed to terrify and torture the tributes in ways they could never have imagined. With its ability to blend into the shadows, it will stalk them relentlessly, striking fear into their hearts.”

Coriolanus observed the creature, a mixture of fascination and consternation in his eyes, narrowing the gap between you. “But how does it differ from the mutts we've used before?”

You leaned in, your voice dropping to a chilling whisper. “It carries a venom that induces hallucinations, distorting reality for its victims. The terror it inflicts will be as much psychological as it is physical.”

As you detailed your plan, the room seemed to grow colder, and the weight of your shared darkness pressed on Coriolanus. You described the various mutants and horrors destined for the arena, all designed to heighten the tributes' fear and despair.

“I want the 23rd Hunger Games to be remembered as the most nightmarish ever,” you declared. “A spectacle that reveals the true depths of human darkness, concealed behind the Capitol's glittering facade.”

As the weight of your words settled in the room, Coriolanus’ initial curiosity gave way to a growing skepticism. He couldn't help but question the depths of darkness you were willing to immerse.

“Isn't this,” Coriolanus began, his voice cautious, “perhaps too much, even for the Hunger Games? We want to entertain, to captivate the audience, not to... terrify to the point of despair.”

You turned to him, your gaze firm, and for a moment, the professional mask slipped, revealing the abyss beneath. “Coryo, don't you see? The Capitol's fascination with the Games is not just about entertainment. It's about the harsh reality that we, as a society, have become as ruthless and depraved as the Games themselves. We are a reflection of the horrors we create.”

Coriolanus eyed you, his features a blend of recognition and disquiet. Your words had hit the spot, reminding him that he, too, played a role in Panem's transformation as its president.

You continued, your voice now nearly a whisper, “The darkness, Coryo, is not just within the arena but within us. The Games merely show what has always been there. It's a reflection of who we've become, and it's time we faced that truth.”

For a brief moment, Coriolanus seemed to confront his own rottenness, an unsettling truth that had long been concealed in the shadows of his conscience and the room fell silent.

With measured steps, you circled around Coriolanus, stopping in front of him. You met his calm gaze, finding in it the shadow of chaos, reflecting his soul.

Your eyes wandered over his attire, and with a calculated, gentle touch, you adjusted the rose on his chest before gracing him with a faint smile.

“Look at you,” you began, taking a step back, creating a clear distance between you. “Remember when you used to fear Dr. Gaul? And now, what have you become?” your next question followed swiftly, with no pause for his response.

“You're the man who sends innocent kids to their deaths every year, a cruel reminder to the districts of who hold the power, who is in control. And I? I'm just one of the instruments in your hands.”

Your words hung in the air, and as Coriolanus opened his mouth to respond, you silenced him with an unspoken urgency. “You might tell yourself that you can sleep soundly, shifting the responsibility onto me and my team, washing your hands clean of the blood. But deep down, you know it's a lie, don't you?”

Coriolanus met your gaze, a blend of defiance and self-denial in his eyes. He had always been skilled at pushing the truth aside, shielding himself from the reality he had become.

“You're mistaken,” he finally said, his voice tensed. “I have a duty to maintain order, to ensure the Capitol's dominance. The Games are a means to an end, a necessary evil.”

Your expression remained unwavering as you countered, “But do you truly believe that, Coryo? Do you truly believe it's as simple as maintaining order? The depths of cruelty we've reached, the horrors we've unleashed, they go beyond mere necessity.”

He opened his mouth to respond, to argue his case further, but a hint of doubt flickered in his eyes, betraying the internal struggle within. The truth you had spoken, the darkness he had tried to repress, clawed at the edges of his conscience.

“That's what I thought,” you said with a note of satisfaction in your eyes, and resumed presenting your plan as if nothing had happened, not paying attention to Coriolanus' confusion. However, the shift in the room's atmosphere was palpable, and the unspoken tension lingered.

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sytoran · 10 months

Text

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄 | 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐧𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐭.𝟑

you and natasha were star-crossed lovers, separated by galaxies and timelines. like any other shakesperean tragedy, you and natasha's tale comes to an end... or does it?

pairing: goddess!natasha x dom!fem!reader (G!P)

note: this is the 3rd installment to the goddess!nat universe! please read the other parts first if you haven't already. this part contains major angst and smut. i have spent ungodly hours on this chapter.

word count: 4.5k (i am impressed with myself)

series m.list | main m.list | join the taglist | AO3

Previously…

No one escapes the consequences of their actions. Not even the Goddess of Lust, who had formed romantic relationships with a mortal. SHIELD’s decision to forbid the two of you from ever seeing each other again tears apart all the ‘what-ifs’ of a bright future.

Now…

Natasha doesn’t know how many hours she’s been crying in the bathtub.

After the finality of SHIELD’s crushing decision had truly weighed itself upon Natasha’s burdened shoulders, the mere thought of what she would have to do to you shook her to the bone.

Which is why she crashed at her sister’s place: to cry her problems away in a bathtub made of priceless gold, alongside a fine bottle of Pinot Grigio.

“Jesus, Nat, you’re gonna die of hypothermia if you stay in there a second longer.” Yelena says, kicking open the bathroom door with a tray of smoked salmon appetizers in hand.

“Take one,” Yelena says absentmindedly, sitting herself on the edge of the bathtub next to Natasha’s partially-submerged form. “Food helps with everything.”

Natasha doesn’t respond, only looking up at her sister through glassy eyes. Empty eyes. She felt raw and numb at the same time, but the contrasting emotions were merely child’s play in comparison to the storm that raged within her weary mind.

Yelena looks at her unamusedly, before folding her arms. “Talk to me,” she stated firmly, and it wasn’t a request. The blonde sister was the Goddess of War, after all, she could be as intimidating and ruthless as she wanted to be.

Hot-headed at times, sure, but so paradoxically calculative and strategic at other times Natasha felt like she could get whiplash. Despite all of the finicky situations the older sister had found herself drowning in, Yelena was always there for her, fiercely protective with a passion like no other.

This was no different, with Yelena being the hand to pull her out of the water. Physically and metaphorically.

Natasha inhaled shakily, then exhaled and felt a whole lot worse than before. Impulsively, she snatched one of the smoked salmon appetizers off the plate and stuffed it in her mouth, feeling her eyes well up as she does so.

“Damn, this human fucked you up this bad?” The blonde said quizically, with an air of sarcastic wit on the surface but a layer of genuine concern underneath only Natasha would be able to decipher.

"... I've fallen in love with her." The Goddess says softly, faraway, like she was floating with the wind and time itself. Detached from reality, or perhaps running away from it.

Yelena stayed silent. For once, the Goddess of War was at a loss.

“I’ve fallen in love with her,” Natasha says again, with slightly more conviction. She looks to her blonde sister, and Yelena’s heart nearly shatters at the sight of the sheer hurt on Natasha’s face. So broken, so agonized, everything that she did not deserve to be.

“But that doesn’t even matter, alright? She gave me her heart, Lena, and I’m going to have to break it. I’m gonna break so many– Fuck, I’m gonna have to break every single promise I’ve ever made to her, like she’s some kind of toy.” Natasha chokes out. “And I don’t, I fucking don’t– understand why it was us, why I lead her on and why I let it happen. I’m fucking stupid, and now it’s blown up in my face. Maybe I deserve it. Maybe I-”

“You’ve never deserved it,” Yelena interrupts, placing a hand over her sisters’. Is that how you’re supposed to comfort someone? Yelena doesn’t know. Anyways, she’s trying. “Nat, I know you’re the Goddess of Lust, and your reputation precedes you, but, you, of all people, deserve love.”

You deserve love… what a fucking lie that was.

“Don’t try that on me,” Natasha snaps, her walls snapping back up in record timing. Her self-destructive defence builds like armour, and soon she’s standing up.

“I’ve done some fucked up shit in the past, and I’m very aware of it. I thought I��d moved past it, but now those demons have caught up to me, and I can’t do jackshit but watch the love of my life slip away from my fingers. I don’t deserve love, it just happened to find me and I played along because I thought it could last.”

Natasha’s chest heaves at the impact of the outburst. She stares at Yelena, who remains painfully impassive. Arms folded, jaw working on the stupid fucking smoked salmon.

Fuck, she wanted to hurt someone. Make them feel her pain. Let it consume them like it’s consuming her, let it choke them and–

“Is that what you really think, Nat? That you were simply playing a game with Y/N L/N? Because I assure you, I haven’t seen much but I know damn well that those two months with her pure, unfiltered, undying, devotion.”

Yelena’s words puncture a hole into her conscience, injecting venom with it. Each syllable, each emphasis, cuts her. Because Natasha knows that it’s true, but she can’t accept it or she’ll never be able to let you go.

So all she does is give Yelena the best death stare she can muster, and stalk out of her bathroom like her clothes aren’t dripping with bubbly water. (Yes, she had gone into the bathtub with all her clothes on. Depression waited for no man, or Goddess.)

She shakes her head, forcing the stray thoughts to dissipate, and fixes up her appearance with wordless magic.

My palace. Natasha visualizes the place, closing her eyes, and when she opens them again, she’s standing right outside the door.

Apprehensively, she puts her hand on the handle to the huge, sparkling door. You would be waiting on the other side, waiting for Natasha to come home.

Waiting for Natasha to break your heart.

She pushes the door open before she can cower and hide, before she can run away and curse every sentient being in existence.

It was time for her mortal demise.

—

It was time for Natasha to see the fruits of your hard work.

You wipe the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand, huffing heavily but proud nonetheless. You step back to admire the absolute feast you had prepared for your girlfriend.

The fancy dining table was adorned with a checkered tablecloth and ornate with all kinds of things, expensive plates and cutlery already set up, just for two.

It was no secret that Natasha loved your home-cooked meals, despite being able to eat whatever she wanted, as a Goddess with a private chef. She had sworn you put something magical into your food.

You’ll never forget the moan she let out the first time she ate your perfected medium-rare New York Strip.

Which is exactly why you’ve spent over an hour cooking up a banquet of all kinds of food for the Goddess, an array of cuisines from all around the world. As much as you loved the hot sex you had with Natasha, you were an absolute sucker for the domesticity of life with her, how simple and perfect it was.

As if on cue, you hear the front door open, which was not too far away from the dining hall.

Your heart physically leaps, unbridled excitement adorning your features. Natasha had taken longer than she normally would, and you could barely contain the anticipation thrumming in your bones.

That is, until you see Natasha standing in the hallway defeatedly, shoulders sagged and eyes lowered. Like all the life had been sapped out of her.

Fuck, you had never seen her like this. Natasha was the embodiment of undying energy, always with a smile on her face, or her expression schooled into composure, or her eyes fluttering in a state of lust. Not like this.

Never like this.

“Darling?” you ask, hushed. You take one step towards her, tentatively. The head of red hair looks up to you, and Natasha’s biting her lip like she’s stopping the words from falling out of her mouth, like she’ll start crying if you say one word more.

“I-” Natasha tries, her voice hoarse and choked. The rest of her sentence dies in her throat, as she shakes her head and strides past you quickly, like she can’t burn any longer under your gaze.

Your hand drops in complete loss as Natasha simply walks past you, shoulders brushing like a ghost of what used to be warm hugs and sweet kisses. You chase after her before you know it, yelling her name as the Goddess speeds up.

Natasha blinks back tears furiously, striding through the dining hall as the servants scatter like mice. She hardly registers the feast prepared on the ornate table, vision blurring with each desperate cry of her name you let out.

“Natasha? What’s the matter? Talk to me, please!”

You sprint faster, dodging your way through the hallways and up the wide set of stairs. The Goddess is within arm’s reach, now, and you extend your arm to grab onto hers, so you can spin her around and ask what on earth is going–

And the Goddess simply teleports away at the last second, the fleeting touch of her warm skin dissipating into thin air.

“Fuck!” you yell, eyes darting in frustration. Why was Natasha acting like this? Had you done something? Forget her birthday? No, that was December 3rd. Forget the anniversary of your first meeting? Nope, that was January 24th. What on earth had you done? Or had she done something? You–

No, okay, calm down. Slow down. The rational voice in your head speaks up. Where would Natasha have gone? What was a significant place she would escape to, in times of distress?

After a moment of contemplation, you find your answer, and sooner than later you’re sprinting up the long flight of spiral staircases to the Astronomy Tower.

—

Natasha’s thankful for the dome-shaped glass ceiling the tower has, doing what it can to block out the cold. The sky is absolutely breathtaking, a heart-wrenching contrast to her inner turmoil.

It’s a dark blue and a soft pink, with millions of little bright planets splashing across the canvas like silver sequins. The view of the galaxy from the land of the Gods had always been the greatest, after all.

The Goddess stands, unmoving and breathing lightly. She doesn’t feel the least bit better, but at least she’s calmed down in the slightest.

She’s bought some time by teleporting up here. Her hands were clammy, but no matter how many times she wipes them down on her dress it doesn’t change a thing. She can’t change a thing, not for anything, not for you.

“Natasha?” you ask, weakly, heaving at having sprinted up so many flights of stairs.

At the sight of you, the Goddess feels the tears spring back into her eyes again. Stupid. She wants to say sorry. Stroke your face and kiss your lips, maybe. Well, not maybe, because she can’t. Because it’s the last– nope, she can’t say it.

“Nat, can you….. fuck, I need to work out more. Can you tell me what’s going on, please? I made- I made a New York Strip, if you’re hungry–”

The Goddess walks up to you, cradling the side of your face in her hands. Oh, fuck it. Tender, sweet, delicate. You’ve never seen her face like this before, so soft yet so broken.

“What—”

You’re cut off when Natasha leans into your space, eyelids fluttering shut. And for once, this wasn’t preordained or predetermined. You didn’t have to calculate the next move. You didn’t have to fix a destiny.

Natasha’s lips meet yours in a grand, cruel, beautiful, broken kiss.

It feels so right, tongues interlocking like cogs on a machine, quavering breaths escaping from the sides of her mouth. You let her in, you drink her up. All other thoughts shut down.

Natasha kisses you with a hyena’s jaw, swearing she could never get enough, never satiate her desires for you, even if everything else is wrong. You’re stealing her every breath, every kiss, every sigh — she needed more.

She slides her hand down your torso, hands already finding the hem of your pants. But then you push her away – for the first time, for that last time – you push her away, and step back, and your head is spinning.

“I deserve to know,” you breathe heavily, and Natasha’s heart cracks. “You’re scaring me, Nat, okay? First you brush past me all soulless, and then you make me chase after you, and then you kiss me so- so sadly, and now you wanna fuck? It doesn’t make sense, not at all. I wanna know, I deserve to know, I–”

“You deserve everything,” Natasha interrupts, eyes transfixed on you now, and they look kaleidoscopic, just like the galaxy that hung above your heads. “You deserve everything, but I can’t give you what you need, and that’s why this is the last time we’re ever seeing each other again.”

Silence ensues.

You take a good moment to actually mentally digest what Natasha had just said. “...What?”

“This is the last time we’re ever seeing each other again,” she repeats, firmer. You let out a bark of laughter in disbelief, half-joking, but Natasha’ stony face makes your face drop.

“Are you… breaking up with me?” you whisper, scared to say it loud, like doing so would make it less true. Natasha feels her heart clench, and her hands shake because you’ve never sounded so small, so vulnerable.

“No, I’m not– I had to, Y/N, darling,” Natasha says, trying to reason, clasping your hands in hers, shaking her head desparately, like it would stop her eyes from welling up. “I’m a Goddess, and you’re a mortal. I love you, please. But we can’t do this, we can’t-”

“Is it me?” you ask, softly, troubled. Eyes locking Natasha’s magnificent green eyes, one’s that you’ve fallen in love with a thousand times. Ones that you were still in love with.

“No,” Natasha says immediately, her knuckles whitening. “It’s not you. Definitely not.”

“Then who is it?” you follow up, eyes narrowing, head tilted. “Who’s the one tearing us apart?”

It was them, Natasha wants to scream out, until her lungs burned and her chest heaved and she ran out of tears. You’re the best fucking thing that’s happened in my life, and I’m a damned fool if I ever let you go, but this isn’t in my hands anymore. She wanted to curse the higher beings for centuries, taint their names with bitter words, but she couldn’t get the words out of her mouth.

You grow more hopeless as the silence stretches on.

No, you’re the villain. Natasha’s voice says in her head. This was what had come to bite her back, this was her karma. You’re paying for everything you’ve ever done wrong, for all the hearts you’ve broken and never mended. It’s your turn to face the music, your turn to go through suffering. What a shame, isn’t it? That she’s the one who’s so hurt because of you. Y/N L/N. Only person to blame is yourself.

…Only person to blame is yourself.

“It’s me,” Natasha finally says, a shell of a woman who once was, and the Goddess swears she hears your heart smash into smithereens, the glass pieces against the floor you trod on.

“No, what are you saying, Nat?” you ask, confused, tearing up, visibly shaking. “You’re- we’re together. We’re doing good. We’re doing so fucking good, please don’t–”

“I’m the Goddess of Lust, and you’re an attorney from earth. We were never gonna work out. I wasn’t made to have long-lasting, committed relationships. Just… lustful nights,” the falsehood of the words that fell out of Natasha’s mouth wasn’t her own. It tasted bitter on her tongue, but it was like medicine and it was the right thing to do.

You needed a villain. Someone to hate. Someone to blame it all on.

And Natasha happened to be a very good one.

“We were a time-ticking bomb, Y/N, separated by galaxies you could never even fathom.” she continues. “We were never meant to be. I realise how wrong I am for this, because it was never real–”

“It was real to me!” You yell out, voice cracking, tears in your eyes.

Natasha is stunned by the sheer volume of your words, so ferocious and so determined and fuck, she was pathetic. “It was fucking real to me, alright? It was the realest thing I’ve ever had in my entire life. It was so fucking real, Nat, so you don’t get to just pretend you never fell in love!”

Love.

“Love?” Natasha asks, letting out an amused huff of disbelief. “Love doesn’t exist, not in my world, Y/N L/N. It had to end at some point, you know that. You have your responsibilities, I have mine. We’re over, alright?”

You stand there, feet rooted on the ground, face fallen and ashen and grey. This was a dream. This was a dream, and you’d wake up next to the real Natasha later, the one with sweet smiles and peanut butter cookies, and everything would be alright.

“I’ve said what I had to say,” the Goddess says, and she has to regulate her breathing so she won’t choke on her words and swallow them back. She had to escape before she fell to her knees and begged you for forgiveness. “I’m leaving, now.”

She turns, and you grab her arm. “You’re staying.” you state, non-negotiable. A commanding tone. One that Natasha had grown to love.

This time, she scoffs, wrenching herself out of your grasp. “Fucking make me, then.”

Just like that, a lever between the two of you was flicked, and the sexual tension you’d been trying to avoid since just now is nearly suffocating.

“We’re not gonna do this right now,” You growl, looking up at the ceiling with a clenched jaw. Teetering on the edge of precipice was your raging impulse, to either punch a hole in the wall or shove your hand up Natasha’s skimpy dress.

The Goddess tilts her head up in defiance, looking at you daringly in the eyes. Your eyes narrow, taking it as a challenge. God, she looked so fucking bratty like that, and it didn’t help that she was still wearing a stupidly skimpy dress and that her pink lip gloss made that mouth so damn kissable.

“No? Then I’m leaving,” Natasha says abruptly, her tone of voice unyielding and domineering. She uncrosses her arms and turns on her heel, her hand going to the door of the tower.

The rhythmic clicking of her strappy high heels against the tiling of the ground ticks your brain like a metronome. You stand there with your arms folded, her long legs in the field of vision of narrowed eyes.

Click, click, click–

And then she’s being spun around and slammed against the back of the door with an unruly force.

“The only time someone ever turns their back on me, when I’m talking, is when they’re bendin’ over,” you growl into Natasha’s skin, each pause in your sentence filled with a harsh bite to her porcelain skin. Her gasp-turned-moan is heaven to your ears.

Natasha struggles for a moment, hand still grasping for the doorknob. “Fuck,” she cries, but she feels the gyration of your roughly-shoved thigh up her dress and she nearly loses it. You wrap a hand around her neck, letting her give up her power, and you do what you’ve done a thousand times before.

Except this was the last time.

You don’t bother to take off her garments as you hike up the bottom of her dress and push your front against her. “Fuck,” Natasha moans, feeling your rock-hard bulge against her panties. She tries to grind against it, tries to alleviate the growing tension, but you do nothing more than rut against her until she’s fucking soaking.

“I don’t think so,” you growl, hands going to her ass as you push her up against the wall. Your mouth latches on to whatever slivers of bare skin you can find, on her neck and her collarbone and her upper cleavage.

You suck hard on her porcelain skin, leaving marks like you could claim her. Like this wouldn’t be the last time. “Please,” Natasha begs, indescribably aroused, her panties completely soaked through. You had never been this unforgiving.”Need you, please.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t what you were saying just now, hmm?” You ask, harshly, slapping the side of her thigh just because you can. You pin her against the wall with your knees and your left hand, using the other to unbuckle your own pants.

She tries to reach out to help you, but you slap her hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me,” you say coldly, and Natasha wants to cry but she knows she brought it upon herself.

It takes you more time on your own, but you get the job done and the sight of your cock, the one Natasha took the first day she met you, it makes her cunt grow a heartbeat and she’s a fucking mess against the wall.

“Now you need me so bad?” You taunt, rubbing the tip of it against the slit of her pussy. “Don’t have any more words to say?” God, she’s absolutely drenched, and you think you’re gonna die if you don’t go inside her in the next five seconds.

This was probably the worst way to communicate, but, fuck, the two of you were bad at talking and you couldn’t resist the divine goddess that was Natasha, no matter how badly she had hurt you.

You nearly cum the second you enter the Goddess. Her velvet walls cling tight to you, so warm, too fucking warm. Natasha’s babbling something you don’t understand, but you can’t wait any longer.

“Oh, fuck!” she moans, as you slide your cock into her wet cunt with ease.

Your bodies move together with every thrust, Natasha’s legs wrapped tight around your torso as you thrust into her against the door. It’s hard, and fast, and rough, and nothing tender like your Saturday mornings.

She clings to your back, head thrown back, moans and cries bouncing off the sides of the wall. The door is shaking, like it might crack from the sheer weight of your thrusts into her.

You grunt at the inconvenience of that prospect, instead opting to walk the two of you back to a desk in the corner. Natasha gasps, whimpering into your neck as you walk across the floor with your cock still deep inside her pussy. It’s too sensitive, so sensitive everywhere.

You bend her over the desk, pulling away then lining yourself up again.

You’re about to make her beg, before the irrational, carnal side of your mind takes over, and you’re pounding into her pretty little cunt mercilessly. Grunting and groaning as lodge your cock in deeper with each harder thrust, as her moans delve into a symphonic crescendo of screams of your name.

She’s thrashing around, so warm and so wet and so overstimulated all over, but you don’t let up for a moment. You only grip her thighs harder and make her hear how wet she is, before Natasha’s eyes are rolling into the back of her head and there’s drool at the sides of her mouth.

“Pretty slut,” you grunt, pulling out to slap at her puffy clit before she’s squirting, white cream going all over the mattress. “Daddy,” Natasha moans pornographically, visibly shuddering at your degradation. She might like it, a little too much.

The title that had fallen from her lips elicits a groan of acknowledgement out of you, but simultaneously brings back the bittersweet flashbacks of your time spent with her.

This was the last time.

After she’s come down from her high and you’ve hit your climax, you spread her legs and lean down to get a good taste.

"Oh! Daddy - ungh - please," she begs, as your tongue meets her overstimulated cunt. Natasha hadn't even recovered from her previous orgasm, still bent over the desk and panting like she was in heat.

You lap greedily at her wet cunt from behind, and the sheer novelty of how many times you’ve done this truly hits you. How many hours you’ve spent exploring Natasha’s body. How many days you’ve spent worshipping.

All for it to succumb to this.

It’s only after another few orgasms that the weight of ‘the last time’ hits you. Both of you have ended up on the floor, completely naked, heaving heavily to regain oxygen.

“I loved you,” you whisper, hovering above Natasha, and the use of the past tense makes chips away at Natasha’s heart. It’s only then does she realise that there are tears on her cheeks, because you’re crying.

“You deserve someone better,” is the only thing the Goddess says, a ghost of her whisper on your lips.

“You've ruined me for anyone else,” you say, face devoid of the passion there once was. “You loved me so tenderly I won't be able to have another, had such good sex I can't sleep with anyone else.”

Natasha doesn’t respond to that. She can’t respond to that. There were too many unsaid words, broken promises, a future yet to be.

Both of you look up at the pink-blue sky, bare backs on an astronomy tower, bound by love and unbound by timelines and galaxies. It was brokenly beautiful, undeniably so.

You only wish everything could’ve been different.

—

You wake up the next day in an unfamiliar bedroom. The room was far too small, the walls were too grey, the air was too cold, and fuck.

No, no, no, fuck. This was not happening.

Realisation slams into your exhausted body like a two-hundred kilogram sledgehammer, and you're winded by the weight of the impact.

This wasn't Natasha's home. This wasn't her fancy palace.

This wasn't the Goddess' universe.

Air crushes your lungs. Your heart pounds in your chest.

This was your bedroom. This was your universe. The one you had spent all your days in, before you met the love of your life.

At least, who you so stupidly believed to be the love of your life.

You get up with a start, the ache in your bones forgotten with the sheer emotions coursing through your veins, terror and disbelief and anger.

Your mind swims as you grab at anything you can, overturning furniture and messing up papers to find anything, anything, that could explain why this had happened.

Deep inside your chest, you had already known. Even if you managed to fool yourself. Even if you’d dreamt up a whole future of your life with her.

With a shuddering breath, your eyes fall to an envelope on your bedside table. You open it with trembling hands, almost fearful of what lay beyond.

In the envelope, contained a signed check with so many zeroes you could live luxuriously for the rest of days.

In the envelope, contained a note with five fated words and the name of the one that got away.

All you're left with is a broken promise, an agonized cry, and the ghost of what could've been.

To every universe and back,

N.R.

series m.list | main m.list | AO3

4.5k words my eyes are not okay i've been staring my screen and typing for two hours straight, look what i'm going thru for yall

#natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #bottom natasha romanoff #sub natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff #x reader #top reader #dom reader #natasha romanoff smut #gxg smut #wlw smut #goddess natasha #marvel smut #natasha romanoff x reader angst #natasha romanoff angst

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darlingshane · 4 months

Text

Professor Castle

Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: Frank has a weakness and it's named after you. No matter how much he tries to push you away he always returns to the same point.

CW: 18+. Explicit, Smut, Angst, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Fingering, Making out, Professor/Student relationships, Age Gap, Reader is an undergrad student in her early 20s. [I know this is very problematic. Don't come at me. It's just fiction.]

Word Count: 2.8k // AO3 Link.

A/N: This was inspired by this picture of Jon in Origin. I couldn't write for that character in particular, so I thought Frank was the best choice for it, even if it's a lot OOC.

As you muster the courage to enter and confront Professor Castle, you observe him through the cracked door of his office. He looks as good as ever, freshly shaved, in one of his Bexley plaid shirts in white with blue plaid lines, and a dark tweed blazer on top. His hair has slightly curled from the humid weather. His glasses slip a little over the bridge of his nose when he looks down, and he pushes them back in place before tucking a folder in his leather case. You haven't seen him in a few days. Even when you submitted the form to drop his class you managed to leave it on his desk yesterday after he left home. And just early this morning before getting to campus you got an email from him from his uni account, formally denying your request to drop. You don't give a fuck about failing and having to take another course with a different teacher but after what he told you last weekend, you can't stay in his class any longer. It'd be like torture having to see him and not being able to be with him like you desire to.

Of course, you don't ever want to get him in trouble either, he has a lot more to lose than you. But if he doesn't want to see you anymore, then so don't you. So, after a moment of consideration you just clench your fist as hard as you can, set your jaw straight, and storm into the office without announcing yourself. The door slamming the door behind you is what alerts him of your presence. The loud sound makes his head snap up to look at you, standing as tall as you can.

“You can't force me to stay in your class.” You say firmly without raising your voice.

His brow knits behind the thin frame of his glasses as he processes your intrusion.

“No, I guess I can't force you. But I can't let you drop either. You missed the deadline. Unless you have a good excuse like a serious medical condition or emergency the school is not going to let you withdraw at this point. It's out of my hands.”

“Does dying of heartbreak count as a medical emergency?”

“Jesus Christ, you theater kids are really dramatic.”

“Hey, you're the one who told me to join a club.”

“Yeah, but I meant something else like uh… the debate team, the honor society, the newspaper, or the fucking model UN.”

“Well, I made my choice and so did you. I can't just keep showing up at your class and pretend that nothing happened. Can you just think of something? If I meant anything to you… just give me this, Frank.”

You never said his first name before on school grounds. It sounds like a curse word as it slips out of your mouth.

“There are only two months left. That's nothing. Are you telling me you're willing to throw all of that away for me?”

“Yes, because if I can't have you then I can't see you either.”

You catch when his Adam's apple anxiously goes up and down as you say that.

“This is all my fault. I should've never… I should've put a stop to it when I had the chance.”

“Frank—” You take a step closer to his desk, but he promptly holds a placating palm in the air to push you to a stop.

“Don't. Please. Don't throw away your future for me or for anyone for that matter. You're smart and young and strong enough to endure a few more classes. You'll be getting your bachelor's next year, sweetheart. After that… you won't even remember I was ever part of your life.”

“I won't ever forget. I'm begging you. Just let me go or take me back… but…” your frustration knots in your throat. “Stop pushing me away. I know you love me.”

“It doesn't matter if I do. We both have a lot to lose if they find out.”

“Nobody will. We'll be more careful… We could just start over somewhere else, just you and me.”

“Life is not a movie. It doesn't work like that. I know it feels like a matter of life or death right but when you're older—”

“Don't patronize me. I know what I feel. Just take me out of your class or don't. I won't show up either way.”

You turn around to leave the room at once but Frank quickly shuffles behind you and as you reach to grab the handle, he holds the door closed and secures the lock before your eyes.

“So help me God, you're gonna be the end of me, sweetheart.” His tone changes to an octave graver that sends a chill through your spine.

“What are you doing?” You turn around as he steps so awfully close you can capture the strong scent of his aftershave.

“You're going to stay in my class. Front row. Every Wednesday at 10. Then, you're going to ace your final in May. I don't ever wanna hear you again saying otherwise. Is that clear?” He states as a matter of fact, as if you had no choice but to comply with his demand.

“Why are you so convinced I will?”

You watch him up close as he takes off his glasses and lifts his opposite hand to frame your jaw. With conflicted thoughts he pushes your back against the wall, as his face leans to seize your mouth. Professor Castle slowly spells with his tongue all the secrets kept between you in just one beautiful kiss that leaves you breathless.

“Is that enough?” His head pulls back as he sets his glasses back over his eyes as you smooth the lapels of his blazer.

“I'm not sure,” you draw a breath and let the bookbag hanging on your shoulder fall to the floor. “I think I'm gonna need a bigger incentive.”

“There's never enough for you, huh?” he holds your jaw again and tilts your head to the side as he buries his mouth in the crook of your neck.

His lips hold some sort of spell that enchants your body with just a few nips on your skin. The tip of his tongue is laced with poison that intoxicates each and all of your senses as it juts out to leave a wet trace from your collarbone to the back of your ear before pulling back. His eyes turn darker behind the glass as he locks eyes with you. Your pulse picks up in your chest as he licks his lips and allows lust to take over. He watches his thumb trace the shape of your mouth before fiercely succumbing to the temptation of your lips once more, with feeling.

As your arms curl around his neck, his hands travel beneath the hem of your striped, knitted sweater to bask in the warmth of your skin. The sloppy sounds of your kisses sound like sin in this room. You should stop. He should too. But neither of you have enough strength to push the other away.

One of his hands stays pressed on your spine while the other travels down your denim skirt and slips underneath the hem. Hiking it up, his large palm shamelessly grabs your ass, molds your flesh to the shape of his fingers over your panties. Your skin quickly heats up and your mind swirls along the maddening rhythm of his tongue. He presses himself so hard against you, it feels like he's already fucking you, but it's the illusion of his fingers bluntly sliding between your legs and pressing over your opening, stirring a good moan out of you.

“Sh, sh…” he breaks the kiss and whispers a millimeter away from your mouth. “Gotta be quiet now, yeah?”

You simply nod, having his eyes gauging your expression changing as his hand viciously massages your pussy.

“Like that?” His lips pull up at the corners, and you mirror his expression as you softly pant.

“Fuck yeah.”

Then, you close your eyes and press your forehead to his shoulder, keeping your hands anchored to his arms as your juices stain the fabric of your underwear.

“You're dripping, sweetheart.” His voice echoes in your ear. “Is this what you want?”

He presses harder as your grip on him tightens.

“Yeah.”

For a second you think he's going to finish you right there but all of a sudden he stops.

“C'mere,” he locks your arms around his neck before lifting your ass in his hands without much effort. You tuck your legs around his hips as he takes turns around and walks toward the desk.

Keeping you secured in one arm, Frank blindly moves the stuff in the middle before carefully lowering you down on the wooden surface. While you lay on your back, he sits on his chair and brings your ass close to the edge. Instead of letting your legs dangle, he places your feet on each arm of his chair as he kisses one of your knees.

“God, you're so beautiful,” he mumbles against your skin as he rolls down the fabric of one of your thigh-high stockings to uncover your leg. He does the same with the other stocking before letting his lips get his reward.

The inside of your thigh leads a straight road down to hell. After last weekend, he promised himself he would never cross that line again, but he has a weakness, and it’s named after you. It's taken him through a dangerous path that puts everything he ever believed into question. He could lose his job and his reputation if someone were to cross the door to his office and find you spread like a meal ready to consume. It's lunchtime after all, and he can't think of anything better to feast on other than you. His lips trail that perdition-paved road on your thigh as his fingers softly brush the back of your leg. Your skin sticks out as you pull your knees further apart to make room for his face as it gets closer to your center. The corner of his glasses gently pokes the top of your thigh when he reaches that crucial point. You bite your lip and stare at the broken fixture on the ceiling and try to keep yourself from moaning when he pulls your panties to the side. He stretches the fabric as far as it goes, it makes a tearing sound, but it doesn't break. You couldn't care less if he rips them apart. It wouldn't be the first time either. He’s ruined two pairs already. Professor Castle has a wild side that only comes untamed when he’s with you. But this is different. He's never gone down on you right in his own office on campus like he's about to do. You both know the implications of that, but rules be damned right now. All that worry floats out of your head as his tongue makes first contact with your pussy. He draws a line from your opening up to your clit ever so softly before pulling your outer lips apart and diving in. He has just an ounce of restraint himself from going too hard and making you scream out in pleasure, even though he wants so badly to suck on your clit to hear you pleading for more. To stir out of your voice call out his name and title out of sheer joy. But he holds back. He presses an array of kisses and nibbles all over your folds as you close your eyes to focus on the torturing slow pace of his tongue. Your nipples are hard as a rock under your bra, your legs strain to stay in position when Frank slowly laps around your clit, collecting your arousal as your breathing hollows. He places a palm on your stomach, right under your sweater and catches the effects of his mouth in the way your body reacts. There’s an added edge to doing this right here, it makes his cock throb in his underwear as you mumble his name.

“Frank.” It comes out as a murmur, and he hums against your tender skin before going a little harder. There’s only so much he can do to up the pace and make you come without alerting anyone behind that door of what’s happening inside.

We'll be more careful, you said. He eats out your words straight out of your sex.

To speed up the process uses his other hand to slip two fingers into your opening and press on your g-spot. Your back arches in response. Frank has to press that hand on your abdomen a little harder to keep you from squirming too much. It feels like an eternity until you reach the point of no return, once you're there you can feel that fire burning bright at your core as a mind-numbing chill settles at the back of your head. You've never felt that intense jolt sparking your body like fireworks before. Then again you don't have much to compare him to other than the one and only boyfriend you had when you started college.

You grip at his hair as he cues your orgasm. With a strong flick of his tongue and that adamant pressing of your walls you finally come undone. You bury a moan in your throat as every cell of your body is touched by that wildfire that travels from your center out in every direction. It curls your toes in your shoes, your eyes shut, your knees clench together before he can pull his face away. As the orgasm ebbs he sets himself free from your thighs and watches you descend from cloud nine. He uses a tissue to clean up your cunt and fixes your panties to their former position. Then, Frank settles your legs down as your body goes completely limp, and straightens your skirt over your thighs with such love it almost makes you cry.

“Frank,” your voice comes out watery.

“Sh, it's okay, baby. I know. Come here.” He helps you up and pulls you onto his lap.

“I missed you.”

“I know.” He smiles against your hair as he snuggles you against his chest. “I’ve missed you too, sweetheart.”

You clear your throat and stay still for a minute while his hand soothes your back before noticing he’s still hard.

“Do you want me to take care of this?” You fondle his bulge over his pants.

“No, that’s okay. That’s my punishment for hurting you.” He takes your hand away, brings it up to his lip to kiss your knuckles.

“You really have a thing for punishment, huh?” You quip, lifting your head to look at him. It’s then that you notice his messed up hair and send our fingers to fix it.

“Not as much as you do.” His hand pats your ass reminding you of all those times you've begged him to spank you when you were being a brat.

You laugh as you take off his glasses and use the hem of your sweater to clean them.

“Can I come over this weekend?” You ask putting his eyewear back on.

“I have that wedding I told you about. Can't get out of it, I'm the best man.”

“Right. Of course. One of your marine buddies. Florida, right?”

“Yeah.” His stare goes down as he massages your hand thinking that maybe… “You could come with me if you want.”

“I uh… I don't think I'm ready for that.”

“No, you are. Nobody will know you there, and I don't wanna keep lying about you, at least not to my friends. They won't give a fuck, you know? I'm tired of being set up for blind dates and shit.”

“Oh, it must be really hard being you.” You mock.

“Don't laugh. Just think about it. It'll be something casual at the beach. I'll get you a ticket if you're worried about that.”

“I really changed your mind, did I? That's a full 180 from what you said the other day, Frank. Are you sure you want this?”

“Yeah, I was only fooling myself thinking that I could stay away from you. Which I would've if you hadn't shown up here with a fucking attitude. But you're right, we'll have to be more careful from now on.”

“And we can do whatever we want in Florida.”

“Yeah, you wanna come?”

“Only if you really want me there.”

“I wouldn't be asking if I didn't.”

“Then I'll go with you.”

You press your lips sweetly against his and let them bounce together for a moment before getting back to reality. You pull up your stockings all the way up and fix up your clothes before collecting your bag from the floor. But Professor Castle can't help but stall for a bit longer to kiss you once more until you have no choice but to run to your next class.

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher fanfiction #frank castle smut #jon bernthal #jon bernthal fanfiction #jon bernthal smut #angst #smut #darlingwrites

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thatbitchery · 4 months

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SUCCESS FORMULA 101

Lets talk about what really makes a person succesfull. No I don't mean the recycled stuff & the magical thinking manifesting stuff. Let's talk the real stuff. What really, like really really makes a woman succesful?

1 . The idea- decision gap

Planning is a productive form of procrastination. You overestimate the amount of control you have over time- space reality if you think you can anticipate the future & hold your own. Exhibit A: covid. Yes get your skeleton nailed down and have a second third fourth opinion but you have three days after the idea to begin execution. Do not overplay your power, you don't have that much control and your powers of perception are based on the past, not future. If you must plan get the first draft down then work with that. Here's a secret- you know those ultra succesful people you know? They're making it up as they go. Adaptation>> planning. If you want success reduce your idea to execution gap to max 3 days then go get it. Risk aversion is the enemy of innovation.

2. Embarrassment

My mentor taught me to not only anticipate but be fully amenable to embarrassment. Especially if you're looking at a career in creative and performed arts you can NOT skip this one. You want to be a singer? Writer? Influencer? Blogger? Vlogger?There will be a reddit thread about how much you suck. This is the fabric of success. Resilience is a woman's best friend. Embarrassment is the portal to growth. First day in the office messing everything up asking stupid questions underdressed with that accent- that's the price you pay for sitting on that CEO seat one day. The way to the top is from the bottom.

3. Boredom

Success is found in the small, mundane, repetitive, boring day to day tasks. It's hard to get far especially in corporate spaces because the boredom is crippling & we are innately a progressive species which means dopamine & adrenaline seeking so you leave your boring tasks for the high of chasing a new goal- no. Get very comfortable with boredom or move to creative arts. Success is found in consistency and consistency is found in repetition. Closing that million dollar deal isn't what made you succesful. It was the repetitive boring practises of sitting through meetings with a collective IQ of 18 that taught you patience, negotiation, jargon and attunement. It's not meeting the right guy that gave you a successful relationship it was your 8 year long friendships that you no longer pay attention to that taught you to communicate, empathise, have boundaries , the right way to love & be loved and recognize value. We tend to credit the spikes for the outcome when it's the consistency of the mundane that got us where we are. Success is the really boring stuff. Really really boring stuff. Success is a buildup.

4. Hierarchy

The swapping of "self sabotaging stupidity" with "feminism & empowerment" is easily one of the greatest downfalls of our generation. Social species= hierarchical you're not being a boss babe queen by speaking to your superiors in a condescending manner & inserting your opinions bc "you have a right to whatever". Uh , you don't. You don't have the right to embarrass your boss or call him out, you don't. Be the boss first then you can call the shots don't let rich kids on tiktok trick you into thinking you can get away with disrespect. Know your place. Power isn't taken its transferred. Meritocracy >> democracy if you want the right to throw your mouth around be the CEO then you can call the shots till then act your paycheck & plan your exit or social climb to a point your opinion matters because meritocracy will always trample democracy. Don't be stupid.

5. Baby & the bathwater

Another culprit for my generation's failure is the witch hunt & self righteous campaign that's cancel culture & virtue signalling. Influencers build their reputation on it so Candace Owens gets to call Beyonce out but you shut your mouth. Learn the concept of dichotomy and learn to take what resonates with you &go. The higher you climb the success ladder the lower your morals go & the more terrible people you have to tolerate so you'll sit 4 hours on a table with a sexist ugly pig making wild sexual innuendo because once that deal is signed your dreams come true. If you're walking a path of self proclaimed righteousness where you can't talk to people who do this and that don't bother. & this level of dissociation & delusion that allows you to think of people as good or bad will get you manipulated left right center. You want to be succesful? Not your monkeys, not your circus. Take what's yours and go. Don't lie to yourself & sabotage your own progress bc you're on a little righteousness campaign.

6. Learn to use people

The greatest resource on God's pretty beautiful earth is human beings. And time. Every single thing you want will come from a person, learn to use people & be used by them bc a relationship requires an exchange of value, don't be a greedy leechy taker. The most important part of success is human resource. If you're struggling with communication & negotiation dedicate everything you have to fixing it. The capital city of success is mutually beneficial relationships ie relationships where people consciously consensually use each other in an equilibrium of value exchange.

7. Emotional intelligence

Sucess doesn't like emotions. In fact those two are sworn enemies since the dawn of the planet. When emotions walk through the door success jumps out the window. Now, I want us to understand- when I'm saying this I'm not saying be a robot- you're not. Emotions are important. They're a compass. You look at them, listen to what they're saying and decide what to do with that. I'm not saying make an enemy our of your humanity, emotional intelligence isn't synonymous with emotional negligence. I'm saying you don't make decisions based on them. You don't express them in public unless it serves you to. You don't shut them down- don't be a psycho- but also don't make them something theyre not- an identity. It's a compass. You need it to move in the right direction, but you carry the compass not the other way around.

8. Offensive

This is where women in particular mess it up- never play defensive. Ever. Unless it's a backhanded game & manipulation tactic always play the offense. Defending yourself is weak af. Find a way to be on the offensive. Victims don't make it. They don't. They get the sympathy & provision & that's it. Success is a literal jungle hun especially corporate your little tearjerkers might get your bf to not leave you but in your office they'll get you abused & disrespected & shamed. Again- it is within the nature of a social species to attack its weak & at home you're safe bc your friends & family really do care about you but corporate & success is a competition. They hit low. They hit hard. It's merciless, you're competing for the same thing. Always play the offense. Always be in the offense. It's better to be the bully, if you get bullied you bully them worse &let everyone know yeah no I bullied him now what? Exactly. Be the mean girl. Be the bully. Take the offensive. Offensive is progressive. Defensive is survival.

9. Routines

Ive found that most people don't know the difference between routine & schedules. Wake up @5 to workout is a schedule. Working out before breakfast is a routine. I'll tell you this as someone with ADHD but an unbreakable routine, if you can not keep up with the time you'll mess up. You don't need to allocate time to set a routine. A routine is a sequence of events that's turned habitual. So if my routine is wake up work out drink water get my vitamins in it doesn't matter if I wake up @ 5am or 1 pm that's the sequence of activities that will take place. Routine is about muscle memory. It has to be subconscious. You have to instinctively know this is whst I should do & have it so ingrained that you don't even think about it it just happens. Training your muscle memory is a superpower. >86% of your day is governed by muscle memory. Think about that. If you just subconsciously headed to the gym and made a healthy meal & studied. Like, while spaced out. Just think about it. Like I said success happens in consistency & repetition. Quick take a guess how muscle memory is formed.

10 Reality

Success is delusion averse. Take the world for what it is and people for what they are & reality for that- reality and stop trying to substitute millions of years of evolution & adaptation with cheap politics, values and morals. Don't be dumb. See the world as is not as you wish it was. Forget all the self soothing politics you're buying into and go science. You can not undo in one century what's been in motion for eons though. Sociology & politics are just self soothing distractions. The world is what it is when you die it'll be exactly what it I'd, you're the one that'll have burned herself. Don't be stupid. Women can't be stupid.That XX is synonymous with Xtra Xmart okay? Okay.

TBY

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tarjapearce · 9 months

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Lips anon! I must have the royal au version of it just imagine 😩

Our King deserves a treat 🤭

So far your stance at the Arachne's Kingdom had been a breeze. You'd spend your days painting, embroidering, writing letters, knowing more of Arachne's kingdom. Your relationship with the king of course was still strained.

It had been just a couple of times you had sat and ate together, or did anything together really. One of your fond memories with him was you taking a stroll with him through the castle. Talking about meaningless things, giving bashful smiles, trying to get closer to him.

Little moments of him being gentle with you, gave you hope. Of. course you wouldn't expect things to just click suddenly. You knew with patience you could get there.

Your paintings had improved significantly, and the little conversation among the court only sparked a new idea for you.

"Did you hear?"

"Captain Reilly received one of those portraits"

The hushed voices reverberated through the ample stony halls. You stood there, eavesdropping.

A gasp

"Really? Oh my lord! Is he courting someone?!"

"No, not that I know off, but I just caught a glimpse of it. It's... scandalous!"

"By your majesty, don't spare the details!"

"Heard that famous painter did it. Leona Visqué. It's really hard to get a commission from her. This woman must be desperate if she wants Captain Reilly."

The voices just kept fading as they ventured further within the halls.

You'd visit Miss Visqué yourself.

-----

"If I should've known that the future queen of Arachne, I would've fix the place a bit. Apologies for the mess, your majesty."

"Worry not dear. I know that oil. paintings can be quite hard to remove."

Leona stared with a smile.

"May I know what is it you will commission?"

Your cheeks flushed softly.

"I... overheard a small conversation in the palace, and-"

"Oh?" She smirked, "Glad to hear my art is being the talk among nobility"

You chuckled as your fingers fiddled nervously.

"I would like one of... your famous portraits." You mumbled.

"Oh..." Leona couldn't help but beam.

"For the king?" You nodded with a bubbly and antsy feeling in your stomach. Eyes still cast down.

"Well, seems my other comissions can wait. Let's make something he'll never forget."

----

The king had noticed how you'd take small trips to the city, only to return until noon. And no matter how much he asked, Jessica wouldn't tell him.

"I gave my word to not say a word." She'd dismiss him with a little smile. If it wasn't for a mutiny in the jails, he'd send his own spies to see what your sudden secrecy was about.

----

The wait was over. Leona had finally finished your portrait. Your cheeks burned brightly as you admired yourself in the canvas. Even though, she had insisted that it was a gift, you still payed her.

The canvas was tucked in a velvety pouch. And when you made sure he wasn't in his chambers, you put the little gift in his bed. A bed you would one day share.

The thought made you flee with a heated face.

-----

He removed his armor and striped himself into nakedness. The servants already had his bath ready. Hot steamy water to sooth his aching muscles. He was only a king in his mid thirties yet felt like someone of fifty. his stubble seemed more prominent. He'd need to shave again soon.

Once done, he dried himself and walked over his bed. The fire inside his dim lit room, only casted it's reflection on his moist skin. His eyebrows grimaced upon the velvety package awaiting in his bed.

Damp strands fell on his face, nimble hands undid the small knot ontop. Your penmanship impeccable as usual.

For your eyes only

He blinked as the canvas was slowly revealed to him.

His mouth gaped, a soft sharp inhale it did when his eyes marveled at what laid in his hands.

Your naked form, laid down, a hand above your head as the other one rested near your mouth, a subtle invitation.

His eyes unavoidably wandered to your hips and thighs, the smooth curves of your flesh were traced by one of his fingers, silently hoping that one day he'd be lost between them. You were laid in a bed of flowers, your hair slowly melding with them as some were placed strategically on your your upper strands.

Pouty lips he once fantasized in touching, pried open in a delicate yet alluring way. His groin twitched. Soft mounds that were often caged under fancy dresses, were now freed for him to see. No longer having to imagine them. Supple, generous, and perfect for his hands to maneuver.

How could he had been so blind?

Divine. Perfect, and soon to be his.

Oh, the last one. He had been too busy to actually dwell into thoughts of his own wedding. A day that seemed closer than he anticipated. But now, he had a reason to look forward to it. And for him to be your first was both thrilling yet endearing, but of course his dark mind offered a little twist.

He'd have you as many times as he wished.

A satisfied smirk nested in his meaty mouth.

Oh he would.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #💋 anon #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #t writes✨#royal au #king miguel

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elissanatok · 1 year

Text

-𝐈 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄

part 2

pairing: Aemond targaryen x velaryon! (strong!) reader

summary: Aemond has loved and secretly claimed you for himself since the day you were born. losing his eye changed him, but maybe it did not affect his feelings for you as much as he thought it had

warnings: english is not my first language, angst, fluff, shy reader, unclexniece, possesive aemond, everybody adores reader in this

let me know what you think!! reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback are highly appreciated <33

You didn't know what you had expected when you imagined looking into his face again. a smile maybe? A hint of the boy he used to be? Well - you surely did not get whatever it was you had expected.

He looked at you with a piercing but very bored look, before he let his eye drift again to your little brother. You nervously looked from your little brother to your older one. Jacerys tried to send you a reassuring look, or maybe it was just one that screamed “I told you so”.

Before leaving Dragonstone he and your mother told you not to expect any kindness from the rest of your family. You were disappointed that they seemed to be right and that the little hope Daemon gave you when he talked about your friendship as children flew away with the wind.

You had missed him dearly. Your Aemond. But maybe this was not him. His hair had grown longer, although not as long as yours, and laid pin straight against his back. The black eyepatch he wore made him look almost forbidden. It made him look dangerous. But your Aemond was not a dangerous boy. But then again - this was not him.

Your Aemond used to read in books, spend his days learning, dreaming and talking about Dragons. Teaching you about them. This Aemond looked like he was ready - had dreamed and talked about feeding you to them.

The Queen's eyes held a little bit more warmth when she met your gaze. Sometimes she thought you looked more like her daughter than Rhaenryas but then again, your eyes held the same fire as your mothers.

The reason for your visit was a sad one, sure, who would be the heir of driftmark was important, not for you, but for your boys. You would be married off, no matter what Daemon claimed, if an alliance with House Winterfell was needed, Cregan would be the first to take your hand. You liked him. He was a kind man. A strong one too, but your relationship held no meaning, no feelings, no friendship.

Standing with your shoulders straight and your chin held high, you listened to Vaemond.”Don´t you dare tell me, who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon. No. I will not allow it.” You could see the rage forming in his eyes. “Allow it?”, your sick grandfather questioned. “Do not forget yourself, Vaemond.”

The first time you flinched, was when he raised his voice, pointing at Lucerys. “That- is no true Velaryon- and certainly no nephew of mine.”

Your mother tried calming the situation, after quickly looking at her only daughter. “Go to your chambers, you have said enough.”

“Lucerys is my trueborn grandson.”

“You may run your house as you see fit. but you will not decide the future of mine. My house survived the doom.”

You really wished for someone to hold your hand. Stand in front of you, protect you from the eyes in the room that bore into your golden skin, but there was just your family and you in your flame red dress.

“And a thousand trigulatons besides.”. “And Gods be damned, I will not see it ended on the account of this -”

You and your little brother were similar in some ways, in ways like anxious behavior. In ways like his hands trembling just as much as yours behind his back. “Say it.”, whispered Daemon, making your knees feel weak for what was about to come. You were no fighter. No ruler. Just a woman. And a brutally soft one too. “Her children are Bastards!!”Vaemond yelled into the room, at the king, making you slightly flinch at the sudden loudness of his voice.

“And she, and her daughter, are whores.”

Your eyes widened, while people let out gasps. Insulting your mother, married and with children was one thing, insulting you, a girl who had not even earned a kiss to her cheek yet, was something entirely else. You were not even promised yet.

Unknown to you, Aemonds eye had locked onto your form the moment Vaemond stepped closer to you. His gasp was a short one, a quiet too, but he could not believe someone dared insulting you. Yes, you may have shared the features of your brothers, even though you were much more beautiful to him, but your eyes were the purest purple he had seen in his house. There was no way someone could doubt where you belonged.

In his opinion, you would always belong right next to him. He wished he could have shielded you from harsh words and glances, but he could not forget who you stood next to, the boy who took his eye and the woman who wanted the throne.

His fists clenched behind his back, he watched his father stand up, heavy breathing. “I- will have your tongue for that.”

You had heard Daemon lifting his sword, and you had seen it from the corner of your eye, but still you did not stop looking at anything but Haelenas dress. His blood flooded in front of your feet. “He can keep his tongue.” Daemon shot you a look. Looking for tears on your face as usual, but no, you seemed to be somewhere else.

Aemond looked at his uncle with appreciation. He wished he would be bold enough, could show his care for you openly enough to chop a head off, but he couldn't have done it yet, not in front of everyone else at least.

Part 3

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cntloup · 14 days

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what do you think simon’s type would be? i love your work btw 🫶🥹

ooh this is interesting😃 thank you luv glad you like my work🥰💗 i'm sorry this got so long i went on a rant about how he would enter a relationship in general🙃

so i think for the most part, he'd avoid relationships altogether. not because he wouldn't want to pass on the curse that has been cast on him to another person. i think he's rational and knows that there's no curse here. yes, he's been unfortunate his whole life but it's something that has just happened. so one reason would simply be that he doesn't have time to maintain a relationship. but of course there's a more profound reason and it's that he's a broken man. he knows that it would be really difficult to be in a relationship with him. and it would be very difficult for him to trust someone enough to let them in. so yeah it would be highly unlikely.

and i don't see him as the type to go for one-night stands that much either. i'd say a moderate amount maybe to release some pent up energy after deployments.

if it ever happens and he falls in love, it will be a slooow burn. like it would take a reallyyy long time. and it would be with someone whom he sees regularly. not necessarily in his own line of work but maybe a neighbor, some coffee shop worker or a librarian etc. someone whom he can form a friendship with first. he needs to dip his toes in to test the waters first before diving into a relationship. so yeah i think it would be friends to lovers for him.

and i don't think your style would matter to him at all. coquette, tomboy, whatever you are, it's your personality that matters to him. of course he would fawn over your style too once you're in a relationship, but it wouldn't be a part of his criteria for entering a relationship.

and personality wise, he would never tolerate a crybaby at all. someone who whines and wails over minor stuff would irritate him to no end. so it would be someone who has a somewhat rough and tough layer to them. not as extreme as him of course, he wouldn't expect that from anyone.

and of course someone who has a certain darkness within them. so in this case, someone similar to him, with a traumatic past. again, not as extreme as him of course. but to some extent, carrying a bit of baggage. so they would understand the pain and torment he carries within his heart every second of the day and the toll it takes on him. so they can be patient with him as he lets them in gradually to peel off the layers that he has built over the years one by one.

that being said, he would be extremely protective. yes, you're strong and tough, a little fucked up in the head and you can handle yourself perfectly, but that doesn't mean you have to. he would step in the moment he notices your discomfort in any situation. he would take mental notes of every single one of your triggers, however minor, and he'd protect you and take you away from any situation that would cause even an ounce of discomfort to you.

i might change my mind about this in the future but this is my opinion rn :)

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weird-addiction · 3 months

Note

If you're still writing for hotd, could you do a aemond x twin brother reader (platonic ofc). When aemond loses his eye, his brother takes his own eye on the opposite side as a form of solidarity. They have a close relationship and reader claims cannibal as aemond claims vhagar. I know it's a lot but I thought it was a good idea. Hope you have a great day

~snake anon 🐍

One in the Same

Pairing: Platonic!Aemond Targaryen x Male!Twin!Targaryen!Reader

Genre: Neutral

Warnings: Gore, taking out an eye, typical violence, threatening someone

Being the twin to a prince was never meant to be easy, well, others at the bottom would say different. That is because they have never been in his position before. Y/n was the fourth child of Alicent and Viserys, the younger twin to Aemond Targaryen.

They said that the gods flip a coin to determine a Targaryen’s fate when they are born, one side was greatness, the other was madness. If this was indeed true, Y/n’s side of the coin would be sadness. There was not a day from the day he was born that he did felt like a void was inside of his heart, and the only way to fill it was to be close to his twin at all times.

Since childhood, Y/n clung to Aemond’s side no matter what they were doing. Training, eating, in the library reading, the one thing they did not do was sleep in the same bed. Alicent tried everything to keep Y/n a part, as she was worried that in the future that their closeness would prevent them from finding wives, however Y/n still refused to let his brother go.

Aemond was dragonless, so was Y/n, they were the only ones without dragons and boy were they bitter for it.

See, Y/n was what you called the ‘the silent but deadly’ type of person. He told everything, every feeling, every emotion to his twin and no one else. And for this, he had no idea how to express himself to others freely.

So, he did it through violent means.

“Behold! The Pink Dread!” Aegon, Jace and Luke all said in a mocking way as the pig stood before them.

Aemond kept his emotions inside, he would not show them that this got to him. His twin however, did not have the same reaction.

Y/n did not hesitate as he grabbed Aegon by the collar, his fist raised as he was about to punch him. Aegon was surprised to say the least, as he flinched back from his brother’s raised hand. Jace and Luke were also shocked to see this, as Aegon was the eldest among them so no one went against him. Seeing Aegon’s own younger brother do that to him was not something they expected.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t make you unable to see Sunfyre for a week, brother.” Y/n spat, his hand did not loosen its grip.

“I-I’ll tell mother!” Aegon said out as a last resort.

“Mother? Mother would thank me for knocking some sense into you.” Y/n’s eyes narrowed, the dragon burned within him brightly.

Aegon managed to shake himself free, himself and their nephews left quickly so as to not anger him anymore. Y/n turned back to Aemond, wanting to comfort him. But, Aemond was already down the pit to see for dragons. Y/n notified a guard and Aemond was taken out before he became ashes.

“What are you doing?! Are you trying to get killed?” Y/n looked him over for injuries.

“I’m fine.” Aemond replied quickly, hiding his disdain for dragging him out.

They were escorted back to their mother who was watching over Helaena with her bugs.

“Do I have to have you both confined to your chambers-”

“They gave him a pig!” Y/n yelled, cutting Alicent off.

Her attention went to the younger, then back to the elder to confirm if this was true. Aemond’s face said everything.

“You both will have a dragon. One day. I promise.” Alicent brought both of her sons into a hug before leaving to talk to her husband and her eldest son for pulling such a trick on his own brothers.

The dragon did not come to them, even them trying to claim other older dragons did not work. Y/n suggested they go to Dragonstone to take a shot with the dragons there, Alicent allowed after much persuasion.

Once they arrived on Dragonstone, they went directly to where the dragons were kept. The dragon keepers standing there waiting for them.

By the end of the day, Y/n had managed to fly around with a dragon so large that the shadow covered all of Dragonstone. Even the keepers were surprised, and when he landed, everyone was stunned.

Y/n Targaryen had claimed the legendary beast that is Cannibal.

Y/n climbed down from the dragon’s back effortlessly as he pats its side, running to hug his twin and ask the older about his own dragon. Aemond was impressed by his abilities, but rather sad as he himself was unsuccessful as claiming a dragon.

“It’s ok! You’ll have one! You will have a dragon with wars and conquests under its belt! I promise Aemond!” Y/n exclaimed as he hugged his brother tight.

Well, that would come true only a year later as came the death of Laena Velayron. By the end of the funeral, Aemond had run off by himself as he heard the sad roar of a dragon in the distance.

On the other hand, Y/n was freaking out as he did not see his twin anywhere near him. He wanted to go find him but the guard said he needed to go to bed, but how could he sleep without knowing that Aemond was somewhere else? How could he sleep without knowing if Aemond was safe?

Well, he did not have to wait for long, the guards soon came and escorted him down telling him something had happened to his brother. This made Y/n practically run down the stairs to such a gorey sight before him, his twin flame, his brother who he loved so much was sitting in a chair getting stitches across his eye. Running to Aemond’s side, leeching to the elder’s side as he looked him over for other possible injuries.

“How did this- what happened?” He quietly asked. Aemond responded with one eye movement, gaze shifting over to their nephews.

“Which one?” Y/n’s tone now held venom, wanting vengeance and revenge to the one that did this to his twin.

“The one that I broke the nose of.” His response made Y/n realize, of course, it was not hard to see who he was talking about after all.

“Lucerys. Of course. Those..bastards.” Y/n truly hated saying that word, he wanted to be close to his nephews, but what they just pulled was not going to be forgotten and forgiven so easily.

Alicent came over to the twins, giving them concerning glances. Pushing them behind her as she watched Rhaenyra come into the room. The twins held each other’s hands as they waited for what would happen to them.

“My son has lost an eye!” Alicent exclaimed, gesturing to Aemond who sat in the chair.

“It was my sons who were attacked, and forced to defend themselves.” Rhaenyra retorted back. “The legitimacy of my son’s birth were put loudly to question.”

Y/n and Aemond both looked at each other and smirked, they couldn’t help it, everyone who had eyes could see it of course.

“What did you actually do?” Y/n asked under his breath.

“Claimed Vhagar. They say I stole her.” Aemond leaned into his forehead against Y/n’s.

“That’s stupid. You can’t steal a dragon, the dragon chooses its rider. Otherwise, I would not be alive talking. Cannibal would have eaten me.” Both of them then tuned out the rest of the conversation. Well, until their mother decided to grab the dagger sitting at their father’s belt and attack their half-sister with it.

“Where is duty? Where is sacrifice?! It’s trampled under your pretty foot again!” Alicent yelled as her wrist was caught in Rhaenyra’s grip.

“Exhausting wasn’t it? Hiding under a cloak of your own righteousness. Now they see you as you are..” Rhaenyra said back, struggling with holding the queen back.

Alicent yelled as she forced her hand with the dagger down, the sound of fabric slicing and dagger went through the room. Rhaenyra staggered backwards, Corlys was behind her and managed to hold her before she was going to fall more.

Aemond stood up with the help of Y/n, walking over to their mother slowly.

Seeing that Alicent had cut Rhaenyra, Y/n wanted this to end. Grabbing the dagger from the floor before anyone could notice, and what he did next made everyone gasp in shock.

Sliding the dagger across his right eye, with force, the same thing that Luke did to his brother. The blade dropped to the ground again, this time, with way more blood than the last. Clutching his eye in pain, Y/n turned to look at both parties, blood dripping from his socket.

“Now, we are all even. I took my eye, there is no need for Luke’s.” Y/n spoke sternly.

Alicent looked in horror as another son of hers had lost an eye, now it was two eyes instead of one; and it was all from two of her own children and none from Rhaenyra.

“Your mistake has caused my other son to take his own eye. Is this what you wanted? More of my children mutilating themselves for your sake?!” Alicent yelled, and only silence followed.

Y/n was sent to the maester immediately as the eye also needed to be taken out. Unlike his twin however, he screamed through the entire process and held onto Aemond’s hand for dear life. Soon, the same stitches covered the scar over his eye, the opposite of Aemond’s.

For the years to come, the people of Westeros knew the twins as the single-eyed princes. However, no one tried to get close to them. Or rather, it was the twins themselves who refused. They stayed true to each other rather than to marry some stranger they did not know.

Aemond had a sapphire in place of his missing eye, while Y/n had a ruby in place of his.

Two spirits stone cold but the sparks of two stones together burned brightly in between them.

Two of the biggest dragons in the world by their side.

No one will ever cross them ever again.

#🥀mukuro’s way #reader insert #male reader #male y/n #aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #x male reader #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon x male reader #house of the dragon #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire

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yaksha-lover · 11 months

Text

TWST x ASOIAF/Medieval AU

Introduction (Part 1)

this au will center around seven different kingdoms, with one representing each dorm. the stories for each kingdom all happen in the same universe, and thus the reader is a different ‘character’ in each part

cw: arranged marriages, political hostages, slightly yandere in malleus’ part, gn!reader

Kingdom #1 - Queendom of Roses

Riddle Rosehearts is the crown prince of this kingdom, with his mother being the current ruling monarch.

You are from another prominent noble family. There have been discussions of a potential arranged marriage to unite the two families, and so you are sent to live in Riddle’s castle to see if this deal can be made.

Riddle is initially internally opposed to the idea of being in an arranged marriage, but as he gets to know you, he begins to realize that the world he’s grown up in - full of rules and empty of care - is far from what he could have with you.

Unfortunately, Riddle’s mother quickly becomes opposed to your union, seeing it as you attempting to change Riddle and pulling him away from her and their ‘perfectly good’ way of life.

It will be a challenge for the two of you, forced to try and convince his mother to still let you marry, while helping Riddle break free from the restrictive life he’s been forced to live.

Kingdom #2 - Sunset Savanna

Leona Kingscholar, the second prince of the kingdom of Sunset Savanna, has studied and worked his entire life to be the best version of himself. A great leader, a strong swordsman, someone politically astute and aware of more than what goes on in his own castle.

Still, no matter what Leona does, he has practically no way to use his skills to better the Sunset Savanna. His brother, the king, has offered him positions on the high council, but his advice is hardly taken seriously.

Practically resigning himself to live a meaningless life, Leona is suddenly faced with a choice when you come to the Sunset Savanna to offer your hand in marriage.

The future heir to the royal kingdom of the Shaftlands, you’re looking to form a strong alliance between your family and Leona’s.

Leona has, so far, resisted any of his brother’s attempts to set up marriages for him, and so Falena thinks it will be the same. He finds himself suprised when Leona accepts your offer.

By marrying into your kingdom, Leona will become the prince consort, and you’ve promised him actual power and influence. The two of you will govern your kingdom together, and Leona will finally be able to do something with his talents.

The fact that you and Leona were once childhood friends certainly helped in his decision to agree as well. Now that you’ve both grown up, Leona is eager to rekindle your relationship. However, he’s up for a challenge when he realizes you aren’t exactly the agreeable child you once were.

Kingdom #3 - Coral Sea

Azul is a famous travelling merchant, known for his ability to grant practically any wish - at a cost, of course.

When you make a deal with him to save your younger sibling, and find yourself unable to hold up your end of the contract, the fine print comes into play: you’ll have to serve as his assistant and travel with him across the seven kingdoms.

Unfortunately, the mask of Azul’s benevolence seems to decay before your eyes, as he forces you to uptake all sorts of demeaning tasks.

However, you find the mask of his charm slipping off just as fast. The real Azul is hardly as confident as he presents, and you think this may finally be your opportunity to take advantage of a flaw and escape this situation - then you start to feel bad.

For the rather strategic and unfeeling side you’ve seen of Azul, returning to his home kingdom of the Coral Sea, you begin to realize by the way he’s treated that his demeanour may be more reactionary than you first believed.

For better or for worse, the two of you are forced to become a team when an unruly customer begins to hunt the both of you down. The two of you escape the kingdom together, but it won’t be long before you’ll have to go on the run again.

‘Partner in crime’ wasn’t exactly on the job (contract) description, but Azul is lucky that you’ve grown fond of him.

Kingdom #4 - Scalding Sands

Kalim is the prince of the Scalding Sands, with Jamil as his retainer.

You are sent by your family to marry Kalim, but it’s Jamil that seems to capture your interest more.

You wed Kalim, but the feelings between you and Jamil boil over until you begin a secret relationship.

Both of you are hesitant - if anyone were to find out, Jamil and his family would suffer endlessly, and you would lose your status, being disowned by your family.

Things only become more confusing after you begin to see Kalim in a different light, thinking that perhaps you sized him up too quickly.

However, Kalim may be less oblivious than you and Jamil both realize, and he may be more okay with the two of you than you think.

While things may still be dangerous if anyone were to find out, things are certainly much easier with the three of you to cover up any rumours.

The relationship between Jamil and Kalim even improves as a result - you come to get Jamil to have a more kindly outlook of Kalim, while being able to make Kalim more aware of Jamil’s needs so he doesn’t continue to be overlooked.

The three of you still have lots of work to do, but as the future of this kingdom, you hope Kalim will do well with both yourself and Jamil behind him.

Kingdom #5 - Shaftlands

Vil Schoenheit is the son of a prominent noble family in the shaftlands.

Known as the ‘Knight of Oleander,’ Vil is famous for both his swordsmanship and his great beauty.

Due to his family’s involvement in a current political skirmish, Vil is taken as a very valuable political hostage.

You are a knight who works for the side that has taken Vil hostage.

You are eventually told to take him and travel back to his family, in order to try and come to a resolution of this conflict.

Vil is eager to escape and get back himself, so that his family will not have to give in to the demands necessary to get him back.

The two of you seem to fight and bicker every second of the trip back, but when it becomes dangerous for the both of you, you’ll both end up seeing a different side of each other.

While Vil has tried to take advantage of your insecurity and the fact that you are often made fun of by the others for your looks to escape, he begins to see a different, attractive side when he sees how truly good you are, so different from the other knights he has met.

Conversely, you’ve only ever thought of Vil as a shallow noble, unable to understand what it’s like to be imperfect in any way. When his beauty is taken away and he feels like he’s left with nothing else, you teach him that he’s so much more than his looks.

If you’re a asoiaf fan, Vil will have a similar story/character arc to Jaime, with dynamic with the reader being that of Jaime/Brienne.

Kingdom #6 - Island of Woe

Idia’s family are nobles who have been outcasted from the main kingdoms because of their perceived threat and treachery.

Idia is sent as a political hostage to stay as the ward of the reigning noble family of the Island of Woe, in order to prove his family’s loyalty and rejoin the rest of the kingdoms.

You are the child of the reigning family, and the one who helps him adapt to his new circumstances as best as possible.

You know he’s hardly responsible for his family’s problems, and you want to lessen Idia’s suffering as much as possible.

When others in your kingdom begin to harass Idia for being a ‘traitor,’ you impulsively decide to announce your marriage to him, making him royalty and therefore practically untouchable to others (unless they are willing to face severe punishment from the royal family).

Idia, while somewhat thankful for your help, is less than thrilled with this development. He’s going to be a royal? Don’t you know what kind of responsibility this means for him? Why would you force him into the spotlight like this?

Even more than that, Idia knows, no matter how sympathetic, you still believe the narrative set by your family that the Shroud family did betray the kingdom, when that’s far from the truth.

When he confronts you with this, you become frustrated with him, stuck in between the truth and the lie your otherwise kind family has always told you.

Neither of you are able to give up loyalty to your families, and this makes for a very difficult marriage indeed.

Kingdom #7 - Briar Valley

Malleus, the future ruler of the most powerful of all the kingdoms, has nobles travelling to Briar Valley from all over the world to ask for his hand in marriage.

To the annoyance of his grandmother, he turns down every proposal. Partially because he knows they only wish for his throne, that they do not know him nor do they really care to…and partially because of you.

You are part of his Kingsguard, alongside Silver and Sebek, trained in both swordsmanship and magic to keep him safe at all costs.

Unlike your fellow knights, you actually approach and converse with him. Perhaps foolishly, if he’s being honest. You would hardly have known his temper beforehand; many think him to be cold and quite scary.

You already spent time around him when it was your rotation to guard his current whereabouts instead of the castle perimeter, but you begin to do so even more when he requests that you stay on this rotation.

Flattered and thankful, you remain oblivious to the true reason Malleus desires you close to him at all times. It would be unthinkable for anyone of your station to believe that Malleus would have any kind of romantic interest in you.

Thus, you continue to remain unconvinced of the prince’s casual touches, of the way he favours you above all his other guards.

When you begin to reciprocate his feelings but believe them to surely be unrequited, you request to be dismissed from his service, it being unprofessional and too difficult to continue with your love for him.

Malleus, also unaware of your feelings, takes this as you trying to escape him. He knows you’re confused but in time you’ll see; he’ll take care of you, just like he’s always wanted.

You just need to stay in the dungeon until you’ve gotten over this little tantrum of yours. He keeps your cell decorated with luxuries and comfort that you’d never experienced in your time as one of his guards, not wanting you to suffer unnecessarily.

When you wisen up and decide to be his, all will be well again - but you won’t be returning to your previous position.

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