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daisynik7 · 8 months

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[F4M] You Leave a Naughty Voicemail for Your Husband While He Works Overtime [Established Relationship][Mutual Masturbation][Car Sex][Sub to Soft Dom][Breeding Kink][Mating Press][No Thoughts][Brain Empty][Just Fucking]

Read Part 1 here!

Pairing: husband!Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~3.6k

cw: established relationship, p*rn without plot, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl, missionary, mating press, doggy), mutual masturbation, mentions of sex toys, edging, blowjob, car sex, clitoral stimulation, spanking, some spit play, breeding kink, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, honey, princess, baby, good girl/boy), slight degradation kink

Summary: You record a naughty voicemail for your husband while he works overtime, leaving him yearning for more. Author’s Note: Hiya friends! Breaking my tumblr hiatus temporarily to post this. Consider this a sequel/part 2 to my other fic inspired by more NSFW audio. Someone gave me the idea to do a fic with the roles reversed, so here it is! Had a blast writing this, so I hope you enjoy! Bonus: here are some NSFW audios that inspired it (of course, they’re AugustInTheWinter): Link 1, Link 2 (reddit links, 18+). Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are always appreciated, thanks so much for reading! Header image from the manga On Doorstep (it's BL and the MC looks like Nanami, I highly recommend). MDNI banner created by @/mikeykuns.

It’s past eleven when Nanami steps out of the conference room with the rest of his colleagues, having just finished the last team meeting of the day. He was asked to work overtime to help fix any remaining issues before the end of the fiscal year, which is in a few days. Normally, he’d never agree to this, but with your wedding anniversary approaching in a month, he wants the extra income to buy you that gold chain bracelet you’ve had an eye on.

With all his tasks complete for the day, he can finally leave. He gathers his belongings, checking his phone to see the missed call and voicemail you left him about an hour ago. She must be asleep already, he thinks, not bothering to call you back. When he gets in his car, he props his phone to the mount, ready to listen to your voicemail on Bluetooth while he drives home. He presses play as soon as he pulls out from his parking spot.

“Kento.” Your voice is hushed and breathy. “I miss you.”

Nanami clenches his jaw, already aroused by your sultry tone. He grips the steering wheel tighter, glancing at the phone screen to check the length of the voicemail: three minutes. That’s the limit before it cuts you off. And while the ride home is a mere ten, he has a feeling it will be excruciatingly long by the way this message is already playing.

You sigh. “I miss you so much, Kento.” There’s rustling in the background; Nanami imagines that you’re turning over in bed, under the covers. What are you wearing right now? The cute flannel pajamas he bought you two years ago for Valentine’s Day? Or the lingerie set you purchased yourself to surprise him for your most recent anniversary? At this rate, for his own sanity, he’s not sure which one he prefers.

“I can’t wait till you get home, honey. I’m so…” Your voice is heavy with lust; he can see the provocative face you’re making as you squeeze the phone to your ear, reaching between your legs to that throbbing pussy. “I’m so horny right now. I wish you were here.” If he listens closely, he can hear the squelch of fingers flicking your clit rapidly. “But since you’re not, is it okay if I touch myself?”

He’s tempted to slam on the gas and fly through the city to get to you in record time. Break all driving violations and his own personal morals to watch you play with yourself. It’s torture, sitting behind this red light, following the rules, listening to you moan into the phone, so needy and desperate for his cock. What’s worse is that you’re ovulating this week; he knows how pent up you must be from his absence tonight. Fertile and in heat, that wet sloppy cunt begging to be filled with his seed. He promised he’d make it up to you tomorrow morning, but why waste this perfectly good opportunity? Especially when you’re practically begging for it.

“Remember how good you fucked me last night? How you pinned me down by the wrists? How tightly I squeezed my legs around you as you pumped me full of cum?” It’s all Nanami thought about when he wasn’t focused on work today. Enough to force him into the men’s room to jerk himself off, fantasizing about it. Replaying your wanton moans ringing in his ears, the way your body convulsed around him, that adorably dumb expression on your face while you were getting fucked into oblivion. Normally, he’d be ashamed of himself at how lewd he was being in a work setting, but the memory of you was too irresistible, even for him.

He’s not usually perverse like this, but something about you drives him crazy. His hands are typically at 10-and-2, the correct position to steer the wheel. But just this once, he deems it necessary to lose his prim and proper attitude. He drops one into his lap to unbuckle his belt, unzip his pants, and reach down to palm his cock through his briefs. It’s enough to gain a bit of relief from this torment, at least until he’s safely home. Nanami wipes the sweat beading on his brow, accelerating too hard when the light finally switches to green, keeping his grip steady as he strokes his cock, listening intently to your voice surrounding him in the car.

“Are you hard right now, Kento?” There’s more movement in the background, as if you’re opening and shutting a drawer. Blood rushes into his cheeks, predicting exactly what you’re about to do. “Do you like listening to me touch myself?” There’s a familiar hum now, and he visualizes the pink vibrator buzzing in your hand, the fluttering tip teasing your swollen clit. He’d do anything to teleport directly into the bedroom and have his way with you.

“I’m so lonely in this bed without you. I’m fucking myself, thinking about you. Wishing it’s you instead of this stupid toy. Can you hear it, sweetie?”

“Yes,” he answers to no one, shoving his underwear down to release his erection, stroking himself faster with his right fist. He’s forced to stop again; how many fucking streetlights does this goddamn city need anyways?! It’s excruciating.

“My pussy is aching for your big cock.” The buzzing intensifies; you’ve increased the setting one level, on the verge of an orgasm. Typical behavior of his obedient slut of a wife. He loves sliding his fingers inside while you press the vibrator deeper into your clit. He’s obsessed with the way you gush around him, clenching him tighter, addicted to how it tastes on his tongue when he slides those cum-coated digits into his mouth.

“Hurry home, honey. I’m waiting for you. This pussy is already so wet for you. I’m going to use you as my sex toy tonight.”

“Fuck, I want that. I really want that,” Nanami moans in response, releasing his cock from his grasp, thighs fidgeting from arousal.

“You love it when I use you, huh? Love it when I fuck you silly until you’re milked dry.”

He groans, bucking his hips into nothing in the seat, briefly losing control of the wheel, causing the car to swerve. “Fuck, I love it, sweetie. I love it. Please.” He’s not sure what he’s begging for. All he knows is that if he doesn’t get home soon, he’ll combust, taking the car down with him.

“Fuck, Kento. I’m thinking about how deep you hit it from behind. Slapping my ass, treating me like a bad girl, pounding your hips into me like a fucking animal. I get so fucking cock drunk off you. Makes me want to come just talking about it.”

“Then come for me, baby,” he blurts out, fully aware he’s talking to a recording. He’s completely lost it now.

“Ah, I’m close. I – ” you interrupt yourself with your own whimpers. Nanami listens as he cruises past the speed limit now, wiping the bead of precum at the tip of his cock with his thumb, edging himself. It’d be a shame for him to waste his load onto his lap. He’s going to give you every fucking drop he has. Build it up so that your pussy is flooding with his hot, sticky mess.

You whine loudly, “I’m coming, Kento. Ah, I’m coming for you.” You moan into the phone, and Nanami has to release himself to prevent from orgasming too, Then, there’s silence on your end, except for your staggered breaths and occasionally rustling of the sheets beneath you. Eventually, the voicemail ends without another word, and he assumes that you’ve fallen asleep. He smiles to himself, imagining you, his gorgeous wife, with your legs splayed out, vibrator loosely gripped, completely knocked out on the bed.

He replays the voicemail, continuing to edge himself until he finally pulls into their driveway, opening the garage. He parks, shutting off the ignition, then searches the backseat for the box of tissues, wanting to clean up whatever mess he’s made. Before he gets the chance to, the door leading inside swings open, and it’s you, standing in the door frame in a sheer lingerie nightgown. The same one he expected you’d be wearing tonight.

He swallows hard, cock still out, stiffer than ever, watching you step towards the driver’s side, bright face peering through the window. You glance to his lap, noticing the lewd sight.

You tap on the glass, feigning innocence. “Kento?”

He opens the door slowly, face flushed, eyes half-lidded in a daze. “Sweetheart, please.”

His slacks have been shoved off haphazardly down his legs, engorged cock sprung against his abdomen, precum leaking out the tip. His cheeks are pink, hair tousled, forehead dewy with sweat. You smirk at him, pleased to see that he’s listened to your voicemail. “Oh, honey. Look at you. Have you been a bad boy?” You surround him with your fingers, jerking him slowly. He twitches at your touch, sensitive and aching in your fist.

He shakes his head, shutting his eyes closed as you stroke him. “No,” he stutters, “I’ve been very good.”

You inspect the car, realizing what he’s trying to convey to you; he hasn’t come yet. “Oh, baby,” you coo, squeezing his cock in your fist. “You’ve been very, very good. My good boy.”

He nods this time, leaning forward for a kiss. “Yes, I’m a good boy for you. I’m your good boy,” he huffs through gritted teeth. Nanami isn’t normally like this, so submissive and needy. But tonight, he has zero hesitation; he’s begging to be dominated, to be used and toyed with.

You lick into his mouth, nipping at his bottom lip. “Do you want your reward now? Or should we go inside first?”

He won’t last much longer, so he spits out, “Now. Please.”

You smirk, kissing him messily, tongues swirling, swapping spit while his dick pulsates in your palm. “Fuck,” he groans, rocking his hips into you. “I’m going to come if you keep – ” he chokes on his saliva, unable to finish his sentence.

You giggle, nibbling at his ear lobe. “If I do what, baby?” You want to tease him a bit more, so you bend over his lap, kneeling on the bottom frame of the car, sinking down on him with your mouth. He throws his head back against the headrest, swearing loudly. You blow him until his cock is lubricated with your spit and he’s squirming above you, ready to burst.

He pulls you off him abruptly, tugging you towards him. “I can’t,” he urges, completely red now, all frenzied and flustered. “Please, I can’t take it anymore.”

Giggling, you swing your leg over him, straddling his lap and smooching his forehead. “Alright, honey. I tormented you enough.” You’re not wearing any panties beneath your nightgown, so when you start to rub yourself on his shaft, his eyes widen in surprise, staring at you, sputtering a mix of curses and nonsense.

You grin, kissing him softly, rocking yourself along his length. “I told you, didn’t I? This pussy is so wet for you. I’ve been prepping myself all night, thinking about you.”

“Fuck, I’m going to come. Put it in, sweetheart. Hurry.”

You guide him in you easily until he bottoms out, sitting on him without moving, licking into his mouth. His hands slide around your hips, holding you tenderly, staying still, melting into your kiss. Before you can start bouncing on him, he squeezes you, huffing, “I’m coming.”

His dick pulsates, spurting his hot seed deep inside you. You continue to kiss him, smiling against his lips, pleased and satisfied. When he’s finished, you graze his ear. “Good boy.”

“Fuck,” he mutters, brows knit together, eyes shut tight. He opens one to peek at you, embarrassed. “This is your fault.” The blush on his face cascades along his neck. “You knew this would happen when you left me that voicemail.”

Laughing, you give him a smooch on his cheek. “You’re right. I was being bad tonight. Are you going to punish me for it?” You tug at his tie, loosening it on his collar, trailing his chest to unbutton his dress shirt.

He relaxes, smirking as he slaps your ass with his palm, cupping the flesh immediately after. You whine his name at the contact, nuzzling into his neck. “Ah, Kento.”

“Bad girls deserve to be punished,” he growls, low and wicked, delivering a fresh smack to the other side. His cock is erect again inside you, stuffing you full once more. “You’re going to take this cock until I can’t get hard anymore. Understand?” He rocks you back and forth on him, thumb pressed at your clit, rubbing small circles. “Until this slutty little cunt is so full of my cum.”

You nod silently, clinging to his shoulders, body trembling with arousal. The switch in demeanor, from him begging you for sweet release to now being domineering and cocky, has you titillating for more. He chuckles, wrapping you in snug embrace, kissing the top of your head. “Look at you, darling. You’re shaking. Let’s go to the bedroom, okay princess?” And his ability to turn on this sweet charm has you softening in his arms, pliant and ready to be played with.

Soon, you’re inside your bedroom, legs spread wide, some residual cum trickling down the inside of your thighs. He strips his remaining clothes off, cock unbelievable rigid in his fist, jerking himself off to the sight of you in your transparent lingerie, his load leaking from your slit.

“You’re a fucking slut for getting me worked up like this,” he grunts, hovering over you, tapping the tip of his dick on your swollen clit. “I edged myself the entire drive, saving all this cum for you.”

You bite your lip, holding back the guttural, animalistic moan escaping from within your throat. His confession has you quaking, eager to be filled even more to the brim with his seed, eager to be bred. You can blame it on the fact that you’re currently in heat, or that you’re just this much in love with your husband that you can’t think of anything else you want more in this moment than to be connected with him. You grip the sheets below you, fanning your thighs impatiently, waiting for his cock. “Breed me, honey. Fuck all your cum inside me. I want all of it, every single drop. Hurry.”

Oh how quickly do the roles reverse.

He slides his cock inside you, his own cum coating it as he pulls out slightly, observing the lewd scene. “Look at how full you are, and it’s still not enough. Such a greedy cum slut.” He spits a frothy wad of his saliva onto your clit, smearing it with his thumb. “You’re going to come on this cock before I give you anything. Got it?”

You nod, closing your eyes, turning your head to the side, losing yourself to the pleasure rippling through your body as he pounds into your pussy, the sensation so intense it resonates all the way down to your toes. He’s so mean, so unlike his usual doting self when he’s in this mood, and you can’t help but succumb to it. He tips your chin back towards him. “Look at it,” he demands. You open your eyes, his expression wild, fucking you faster, his thumb working your clit ruthlessly. “Watch me fuck this messy cunt.” He grips you behind the legs, hoisting you so that your knees are towards your chest, holding you into a mating press. Unable to contain it any longer, you moan loudly, grabbing at your own ankles to keep yourself spread wide for him as he thrusts in and out of you relentlessly.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it sweetheart? To be fucked and pounded by me instead of that silly toy. To use me and milk me dry of every last drop. You asked for this. This is what you get for being so fucking naughty.” He rests one of your legs onto his shoulder, turning to smooch the side of your knee, sucking on your skin.

You continue to moan his name until it’s reduced into a blubber of incoherent cries as you’re pushed over the edge, reaching your climax. “That’s it, come on my cock, princess. That’s a good girl.” Still, he doesn’t ease up; in fact, he fucks you harder, spurred by your orgasm, intent on chasing another. “Just keep taking it, okay beautiful? I know you can do it.” He pounds you into the mattress, the bed creaking noisily beneath you with each solid thrust, perspiration dripping from his body onto yours. You’re no longer thinking clearly; everything is in a haze, blissful and euphoric, only your husband on your brain. He’s fucked all other thoughts out of you. Has you obsessed with his cock, hungry for his cum, keen on him to breed your fertile womb.

“Fuck, Kento, right there! Right there!” you cry out, grasping his hair between your fingers, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss.

“Right there, huh?” he teases, slowing his pace to thrust deep into your G-spot, nails digging into the flesh of your hips. “Always taking me so fucking deep.” He grabs your wrist, placing your hand at your clit. “Touch yourself while I fuck you. Squirt on my cock like a good little slut.”

You obey him, flicking your sensitive bud with your middle finger while he watches intently, another orgasm fast approaching. You twitch around him, pleasure overtaking your entire body, sending a rush of ecstasy that has you seeing stars.

Of course, it still isn’t enough for him. Not after what you put him through earlier. “Turn over,” he mutters, pulling out, cum spilling onto the sheets. “You know what to do.”

He’s right; it’s second nature to you now, to throw your ass back and fuck yourself with his cock. All he has to do is kneel behind you with his hard dick out while you swallow him whole, pumping it in and out of your pussy. It doesn’t matter how pliant you feel, or how fucked out you are, tongue lolling out of your mouth, drool leaking from the sides of your lips. You know exactly what to do to get what you want out of him.

You can feign innocence all you want, pretend to be shocked when he manhandles you like a fucking rag doll, slamming his hips into you, wet slaps bouncing off the walls of your bedroom. Shrieking when he presses his rough fingers to your swollen clit. Burying your face into the pillow, muffling your shameless moans and shrieks of, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” This is what you intended when you spread your legs earlier, phone in your hand, ready to leave that filthy voicemail for him, knowing he’d listen on his way home. Knowing he’d save all his cum for you because you’re ovulating, and he wants more than anything to get you pregnant. Knowing he’d want to fuck you into a frenzy regardless, always desperate to empty his load inside you. It’s what you want because you know he wants it too. That’s what makes it even better, knowing your husband is as feral for you as you are for him.

“Fuck, I’m close,” he whispers, voice wavering.

Craning your neck to face him, you murmur, “Want to see you.”

He smiles, pulling out, your pussy fluttering around the emptiness, already eager to be filled again. “I want to see you too, my love.” He flips you over, pushing your knees towards your ears into a deeper mating press, kissing you sweetly on the lips. You wrap your arms around him, whining his name into his ear as he fucks you rough, the bed frame precariously shifting with each plunge of his cock.

“Fuck, I’m coming,” he groans, cock twitching and spurting every hot pulse inside you. “Take all of my cum, sweetheart. All of it,” he mutters, forehead pressed to yours. “I love you. I love you so much.”

When he finishes, he lowers your legs slowly, rolling beside you to cradle you in his arms. You nestle into his chest, listening to his steadying heartbeat. “Are you okay, sweetie?” he asks, massaging small circles into your back.

You nod against him, remaining silent, too drained to even respond with words. He lets you rest like this for a moment before hopping off the bed, stepping into the bathroom, rummaging through the cupboards. Shortly after, he returns to you with a container of baby wipes in hand and a glass of water in the other.

You’re a mess down there, sleek, wet, and gushing with slick. He kneels beside you, wiping your forehead first from sweat. You peer up at him, smiling, cupping his cheek. “Thank you,” you mouth to him. With another, he cleans your hands, then your legs, always glancing at you to make sure you’re still doing fine. You’re truly grateful for having a spouse as attentive and as caring as your husband, who, despite his typically stoic disposition, always dotes on you so sweetly.

Done cleaning you up, he traces the outline of your lips with his thumb, saying, “Drink water, honey.”

You grumble at him, pretending to be asleep. He chuckles, leaning in closer for a kiss. “And go pee.”

You peek at him with one eye open, nuzzling your nose to his. “Okay, fine. But after you hold me for one more minute.”

He smiles, sliding his arms around you. “Anything you want, sweetheart. Anything you want.”

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mrskokushibo · 1 year

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Beg !!!

Kokushibo x Fem!Reader one shot

NSFW I 18+ I MDNI I

Synopsis: Upper Moon One is your lover and you wronged him.... He is angry and you deserve what is coming to you... Are you scared yet?

Warning: This whole scenario is a smut. Violence. Anal. Oral. Penetration. Dom!Kokushibo. Blood (only a little bit). Orgasm denial. Rough sex as punishment. Yandere. Biting. Degradation. Begging. Forced submission. Very explicit content, so beware or.... enjoy.

Word count: 1702

This fic has a sequel now: Forgiveness

Masterlist

Image Source: Ufotable/Crunchyroll

Footsteps echoed in the large hallway. It was him. In just a moment he would enter the chamber. You longed for him, craved him. The knot in your underbelly was now pressing unbearably, all you wanted was to feel his thick length inside you.

But today was different, there was also the terrible lump in your throat, fighting for your attention. What you did was wrong, so terribly wrong… But then again, Kokushibo promised to be back within a week. Weeks went by with no news other than the occasional report that came to Muzan, passed on to you.

And then there was the party, to welcome the young, new upper moon. He was tall with the most perfect physique. His hair was long and almost white and then those sparkling eyes….in all colours of the rainbow. His charisma and charm were overwhelming. In such stark contrast to the dirt, he whispered in your ear by the end of the evening. You could not resist, could anyone? If it was not so wrong it would have been worth it, he was beyond experienced too. The memory of the things he did to you made you blush even now, even though the fear of your approaching lover was gripping you in an ever-tightening vice.

Kokushibo entered the room, without a word put aside his katana, and walked up to you, his eyes glaring at you with a look you have never seen before. You should have fallen to the ground, begged for forgiveness, and apologise, but as silly and stunned as you were, you simply stood up and smiled awkwardly.

``Welcome back, Kokushibo-sama´´.

You felt so uneasy and stupid, but it was now too late to correct this behaviour. Because without uttering a word, he grabbed you by the back of your neck, claws digging into the delicate skin, and pushed you down to the ground, until you were where you should have been from the start: on your knees.

His lip twitched slightly and he bared his fangs in a condescending grin.

``You betrayed me, whore. I thought you were better than to fuck around while I am away. You will pay for this and by the end of it you will be begging me to stop´´.

The look in his eyes was growing more and more terrifying. There was lust, but also something cold and cruel, you only saw this once before… when he was fighting his enemies. A shiver ran down your spine.

`´Is he really going to kill me? ´´ you thought.

Sure, he spared the young upper moon, but only because Muzan intervened. The youngster was obviously valuable to him. This angered Kokushibo even more than your betrayal. But why would he spare you? You were replaceable, only made his lover because of your looks and charm. He could have anyone he pleased… He could now smell your fear, it surged through his senses like a powerful stimulant, it was awakening his aggression and sending it to new heightened levels.

``Do you think I am going to kill you, hm? That would be too easy on you. I still want you around to please me. So no, I shall spare your life, but after tonight you will learn your place´´.

In complete silence, he untied his hakama and revealed his enormous member, already erect, with precum dripping down the shaft. Normally, you would start your usual routine of sucking and licking, but this time you did not even have time to react before his hand twisted your hair in a tight grip and yanked your head forward toward his cock.

``Open your mouth´´ he commanded in a voice so hoarse and deep that despite the overwhelming fear, you felt your juices run down your thigh.

Like a puppet you obeyed and with one brutal move, he shoved the entire length of his cock into your throat. He groaned and started pumping at a relentless tempo. His spare hand was now gripping your throat, while the other was holding a firm grip on the back of your head with your hair tied around his thick wrist. You could barely breathe now, being basically on the verge of fainting. You were seeing stars but for all the wrong reasons. Eventually, you felt his cock grow and within seconds he came deep inside your throat, his orgasm accompanied by a powerful thrust. He kept on pumping, letting all his seed come out properly until pulling out. You slumped on the ground like a ragdoll. Spit and semen dropped out of your ruined mouth.

Without a word, he grabbed you under one of your arms and dragged you to the futon. With ease, possessing such unearthly strength, he tossed you onto the mattress. You were now on your back with him towering over you. With one quick move, he ripped your clothes off exposing your naked body to the beast that he was quickly turning into.

He then removed his kimono. As always, you gasped at the sight of his magnificent, perfectly toned strong body. His black hair clinging to his sweaty chest in unruly locks.

His long, sinewy, and clawed fingers started to trace your folds, spreading them and rubbing slightly. You were wet and needy. A moan left your lips when he parted your folds fully and pressed one of his fingers against your clit. His movement was lewd and lazy. He positioned himself between your legs and in an unkind manner kicked them to the side to make more room for himself. Once again, without a warning, he thrust his cock inside you with one quick move. This time it was your cunt he started abusing. The initial pain quickly dissipated into indescribable pleasure as his full length and girth were hitting all the right spots. Your moans were growing louder, but just as you were nearing your release, he pulled out.

``Do you think I am here to please you, bitch? Do you?´´

He almost hissed into your ear, his weight crushing you under him and leaving you gasping for air. His lips traced down your neck, bared fangs grazing along, leaving marks.

He raised himself up to hover over you and his eyes grew darker. He grinned as he lifted himself off you completely, he was now kneeling between your legs. Very quickly, his huge arms, wrapped around your ass and waist flipped you on your belly. He moved closer to you spreading your legs with his rough hips and thighs. You were aching to come, to make love to him, to feel pleasure, but you did not even dare to think the thought anymore.

``Please, Master, I am so sorry, I really did not mean…´´.

You could not finish your sentence because a large hand firmly covered your mouth.

``Shut up! You will speak when I tell you to speak´´ he growled.

He was now rubbing his hard cock on your folds, only to coat himself with your juices. Once he thought the lubrication was sufficient (for him, but not for you), he stretched your ass with one hand and positioned the tip of his cock on your asshole.

You were truly terrified, `` he would not, would he? `` Sure, the two of you had the occasional anal sex, but he was always gentle, there was sufficient foreplay and extra lubricant. But this? This meant one thing: pain. And the pain you would receive; because as roughly as he handled your mouth and cunt, he now did the same to your ass.

The scream that left your lips was animalistic to say the least. The pain was agonising, but your reaction only seemed to arouse him even more. He leaned down over you and sank his sharp fangs into your back, drawing blood. He was thrusting at a fast and brutal tempo, the rhythmic sound of skin slapping against skin reminded more of a satanic chant than lovemaking.

The force of his thrusts was sending you forward as you tried to hold on to the sheets as best as you could. At this point, tears were rolling down your cheeks and you felt like you were sinking into a dark haze of pain and hopelessness, but also, as sick as it was:....lust.... After what felt like an eternity, he finally released himself in you. Maybe this was finally the end of it, of the punishment.. Maybe now you would get to ease your pent up desire.... But no.

He was now sitting on the futon, his legs spread, his cock already semi erect and his scarred chest glistening with sweat, all the while you were curled up on your side, marked and destroyed. The sheets were stained with cum and blood. But he didn´t let you rest.

His powerful arms pulled you up to a kneeling position in front of him. He gripped your face and moved his close to yours. He was about to kiss you, that would be a relief. But then.. you looked into his eyes and realised, that the cold and cruel fire was still there. So indeed, he kissed you, but this was not a kiss of affection, it was the kiss of possessive power. His long demon tongue was deep in your throat, suffocating you and making you gag. His fangs bit your lip. He pulled away and looked at you.

``Now you will beg me for mercy, for forgiveness. You deserve everything that I am choosing to do to you.´´

He tightened his grip on you.

``So now, slut: BEG! ´´

His deep voice was teasing your insides, stirring up fear and arousal all the same.

`` I am so sorry, Master. I have been stupid, ungrateful. I know that I do not deserve your mercy, but I beg you to stop the punishment, to stop my suffering. I will do anything. Please Master, I beg you for your mercy``.

The look in his eyes softened slightly, the cold rage subsiding, but the savage lust-filled darkness was still there, merciless and wild.

`` I accept your apology, but I´m afraid that there is only one way for you to make your apology mean something``

With one powerful movement, using only one of his arms, he shoved your head into his lap, once again growling his command

``open your mouth´´

and once again he shoved his now fully erect cock into your mouth.

``I am only getting started with you, this will be your lesson to not ever wrong me like this again´´.

And the night was only young…

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This is my very first o/c fanfic. I scribbled it down while working on a longer story.. I hope this wasn't too violent 😅.. My main o/c project is more fluff/nsfw with a very romantic Koku 😍 and I can't wait to share it with you soon 😊.

Thank you guys for inspiring me to start writing fanfiction. I am a writer, but this realm is new to me:

@muzanswaifu @muzansfangs @paintoreos @kokusfluffyhair @fuckkyourlife @koku-shibou @nakimex @dahliamalfoy97 @adoriable @xxsabitoxx @doumadono @ask-the-upper-moons @dudeandduchess @angelltheninth @sunsblaze

Reblogs and feedback are welcome!

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queers-gambit · 4 months

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The Battle Above the God’s Eye

part one: Sands of Time

prompt: decades after the Stepstones, it's his turn to be rescued.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 6.3k+

note: i'm not the happiest with this piece, so i'll most definitely (probably) write an alternative when the time comes and the show does the Battle. y'all know me by now, you know i love me a good ol' reader-insert and i didn't want to wait years to publish some kind of sequel so here we are.

warnings: reader isn't explicitly a Targaryen but we had to make this work and i'm burnt the fuck out. so fuck it, dragon rider reader. cursing, books spoilers, violence, imagination required, maybe Red Priestess reader, mention of more Little Birds (let author live), toxic family (duh), heavily encouraged imagination, depictions of death, angst, some hurt and comfort i think ? missing warnings 'cause wonky brain goin' wonky.

"There's rumor, Mistress, of a dragon the color of night," the hooded figure informed. "It nests in the Ruins of Ancient Valyria, seen by farmers and countryfolk; they say his wings beat like thunder. It's a colossal shadow they fear to engage, but after hearing your ransom, they reported it."

You hummed as you took a sip of scalding tea, finding comfort in the heat, musing, "I've been to the Ruins myself on two seperate excursions, I promise you, friend, there is no dragon that nests there."

"It's come from the East, a new beast in the sky."

"I require proof if I am to pay the ransom."

The man with a hood over his head reached for his rucksack and rummaged, a moment later, placing two items on the polished mahogany table between you both. One was unmistakably a dragon's tooth, and when you examined it, there was still clotted blood on the root - assuring it was a fresh pull. The second was a large black scale that weighed at least a dagger's worth.

You smirked, "This is promising. Where in the Ruins has it been seen? Who procured these artifacts?"

You discussed specifics with the man for an hour, offering him a hefty finder's fee after getting the name of the village the man had gathered his own information from. It was a messy journey from there; leaving the home you had made in the decades since the Stepstones to head for what was probably another dead end in Ancient Valyria. You were something akin to a magistrate, the people saw you as a figurehead, a leader; their person of authority who they were all too happy to follow.

Your village flourished, growing in size, number, popularity, and strength by the passing day. The people seemed happy, wealth flowing from exports and trade, and apparently, a few cartographers have begun the process of updating a few maps to add your village's name to history.

Much had changed in your time away from your Rogue Dragon Prince, but you knew that was all coming to an end soon. Your Lord of Light had shown you much in your flames, one of which was a repeating image of you, mounted atop a dragon all your own, soaring over the Narrow Sea with distinct purpose. You weren't a Targaryen, but your religious devotion seemingly gave you the ability to walk amongst beasts and their flames.

Exploring Ancient Valyria took over a year on foot.

You had plenty of encounters with the Stone Men, but all met their merciful demise - those left after that steered clear of you and your Valyrian Steel sword. Around the ruins of the ancient volcano that hadn't erupted since The Doom, you found a graveyard of goat, sheep, and cattle bones. There were bigger skeletons of aquatic creatures, something you found incredibly fascinating - what fully grown dragon went deep diving?

Soon, you found scat. For those who don't spend time in the wilderness or who are simply unfamiliar with the term, "scat" refers to waste produced by wild animals. Yeah, you're reading correctly, after you found the plethora of skeletons, you found dragon shit.

So, you knew you were closer than before. But the fucker still alluded you to the point you felt insane circling the Ruins.

You located about three different potential caverns, investigating them all with caution, but finding them all empty. Feeling exhausted from the months of searching, you claimed one of the caves as your own; hunting for a meal after gathering adequate fire wood. You listened to the untamed wilds of Valyria as you ate whatever you roasted, trying to distinguish familiar sounds of an approaching dragon.

Or perhaps even a distant one!

You'd take any sign!

It'd been weeks since you found the dragon droppings, no other signs appearing. You would search new areas for days, then return to your cave for rest; feeling disconnected from reality the longer you lingered in the ruined empire. You wondering what your village was doing, you were curious if the young woman, Ferona, had a baby boy or girl, if they had erected the new buildings you left blueprints for in an effort to create opportunist housing and houses of worship - as your people had requested.

How did the krill and shrimp season fair? What weddings happened this past spring? How was the irrigation system holding up?

Weeks drug by slowly. Weeks turned to longer months. Two years, you spent in that Gods forsaken ruin of a city - but couldn't find it in you to abandon your search.

Your Lord of Light had yet to send word, yet set your heart ablaze every time you "decided" to go home. You stared into the flames every night, desperate for any indication you were on the right path, but nothing was seen - nothing was said - nothing was shown to you. Until one night, during a torrential downpour and thunderous storm, you were shivering, drenched to your core, fighting the wind to let you keep your flames alive.

And there, in the dying, flickering warmth, you saw it. With wide, unblinking eyes, you stared into the flames harder; unsure how long you remained in the tranquil state before a particularly strong gust of wind nearly pushed you face-first into the embers. You gasped, looking around as the smoke nearly choked you as it filled the cave; stumbling out into the rain as you coughed and patted your chest. Stumbling slightly from malnourishment and delirium, you leaned on the outer shell of your "home", panting with relief before there came a screech so fearsome, you were then cowering into the wall with fear.

You dropped to your knees, huddled into the rock formation; the ground trembling as something enormous touched down. You gasped when through the haze of sideways rain, two nostrils flared and heaved thick plumes of smoke; reddened from the ignited flames deep within an invisible chest. You flattened against the wall, four taloned paws striking the ground and causing it to crack, quake, and tremble. With the fleeting clouds, you used the moon's light to distinguish the beast that loomed closer to you; over you; and then, in your face.

A long, blackened snout nearly pressed into your chest; fabric of your tunic caught in the razor sharp teeth. You had faced death, you had faced beasts, you had faced hacking axes and swinging swords. You had faced the wrath of the Queen Alysanne's court, the rumors of the common folk, and judgment from both man and God. But nothing was like this moment: a wild dragon staring you down, sniffing your chest and stomach, debating if it should just open it's mouth and eat you whole yet or not.

Thankfully, it chose an alternative route.

You're not fully sure how it happened, but you dedicated two years to finding this terrible beasty, and yet, it only took about 6 weeks to bond with the (obviously) young thing. Time with your Dragon Prince proved most useful, creating a bond so secure, you were beginning to wonder if someone deep in your bloodline had mated with a Targaryen. It was natural, the way you both became accustomed to one another; living together on a carbon-dated land long doomed.

The lessons from Daemon came flying back to you. You practiced your High Valyrian, laughing when you obviously got a word or two wrong because the dragon would snort at you. In the light, she was still the color of the night, but her scales were dusted the same gold as her eyes. She was impressive, she was huge in size but nowhere near Vhagar. In fact, you'd wager she had outgrew Caraxes - the only dragon you had true experience with.

Speaking of Caraxes, you were on the shores of Old Valyria, debating how you were going to convince your new companion to join you back "home" in the village, when suddenly, your beast gave a defensive growl.

Looking to the skyline, you spotted the distant dragon and frowned. This dragon wasn't the color of flames like Caraxes was, no, instead, it was a murky blob in the sky with two wings. You offered calming words to your dragon in her native language, not sensing danger, but your beast was unhappy leaving you in the open. Her tail curled around you to corral you back into her body as the muddy brown dragon landed with a thunderous shake a respectable distance away.

Your name was begged by the rider descending from who you recognized as a wild dragon by the name of Sheepstealer.

"Nettles? That you, love?" You asked in skepticism, managing out of your dragon's grasp. "What're you doing here? You all right?"

"I needed to find you," she panted. "I-I need you help - it's all - it's all gone wrong! Please!"

"What's wrong? The fuck's happened?"

"Do you know nothing, Auntie!? Do you know nothing of the war!?"

Your eyes rolled, "Watch that tone with me, girl. The Dance of Dragons is of no concern of mine, it had barely started when I came here."

"Well - it's your concern now," she insisted. "You took me under your wing - you helped raise me in a village you built from the ground, despite not ever needing to - "

"Your mother was a dear friend of mine," you cut her off sharply. "She was kind to me when I came back to Essos, let me stay with her and your father. When I set out on my own, she was always a friendly face, and when my settlement was established..."

"She came to you for help after getting pregnant with me," Nettles nodded. "You've told me this before."

"Then you should know better by now that I owed your mother more than my life, so, raising you was the least I could've done. A life for a life."

"And as such, you let me go into the world with stories filling my head of a handsome Dragon Prince that saved you from the Crabfeeder!" You scoffed at her words, ready to argue, but she rushed, "He's in trouble, Auntie."

You paused, finding no lie in the girl's eye. Slowly, you asked, "Come again?"

"I found him, Mistress," she nodded. "After I got back to Westeros, I found your Prince Daemon - the ones from the stories! He's... He's brutish and harsh, they call him Rogue, but he was kind to me when I told him I knew you. When he heard your name, Lady, he just - he insisted on keeping me close. He protected me, even against his wife - Princess Rhaenyra."

Your head cocked, "Hmm... He usually did have a taste for younger flesh. I'm not surprised he took to you - "

"No, no, no, Mistress, not like that," she insisted desperately. "He was kind, educational - similar to a mentor."

"I see."

"He needs your help."

"Prince Daemon does not need rescuing, he is no damsel."

"He searches for Prince Aemond," she informed, making you lift your chin slightly. Though lost in the wild of Valyria the past two years, you were still well versed in the affairs of King's Landing; staying updated, curtesy of your Lord, the Lord of Light: R'hllor. In your village, you were known to pay for any accurate information - eventually hiring your own spies to relay trustworthy information from around surrounding cities and villages. Nettles was one of your Little Birds.

You sighed, "And? What of it - Aemond killed Lucerys, did he not? Since he married his niece, her children are now his step-children, right? Daemon is within his rights to want some form of vengeance - it's war, Nettie, it's never fair to anybody.

"He will not survive this, you don't understand! It's horrible, Mistress, please, he-he-he's deranged. Mad with grief, lost to his wife's useless fucking war. It'll be the death of him, Auntie, please!" She paused, seeing you just stare back at her; so she begged again, "Please!"

You nodded, "What do you want me to do, Nettie? Hmm?"

"You've told me those stories! I remember them well! You always said he came back for you, saved you from The Crabfeeder," she reminded, making you stiffen. "Does he not deserve the same? Or at least a chance? Rhaenyra will not help, she'll kill him herself I fear, but you can - you can help!"

You nodded, "I will consult the flames - "

"I am telling you - "

"I have heard you, girl!" You snapped, glaring at your Little Bird. "But there are greater forces at work than what you know, I cannot just so willfully trust the word of a child before flying off across the Narrow Sea. Allow me my time with my Lord, I will have an answer for you." Turning from her, you gathered whatever materials you could; setting it up in a small teepee before stepping back.

In High Valyrian, you gave your command. From over your shoulder, your beasty opened her mouth and shot a single flame at the structure.

On your knees, you muttered repeatedly; chanting, summoning your Lord of Light to come to you now in a great hour of need. And He did. Through the flames, you saw what R'hllor wanted to show you: the two Princes engaged in a brutally epic fight that would claim them both in the end...

Unless you left right that moment, as your Lord commanded.

"Make yourself safe, Nettles, go back home," you told her in a rush, catching the pouch of Gold Dragons she tossed you when you sprung into action - and for the first time, mounted your dragon. Like your minds were connected, the Great Shadow took to the sky - leaving Nettles and Sheepstealer behind, and you'd never see either again.

You remained high in the sky, being a blob to the naked eye should any dare to stare at the sun.

You only paused to let the Great Shadow dive into the Narrow Sea for a meal; surfacing with creatures in her jaws as you swam an exhausting broad stroke. Was it terrifying to swim in the open water? Absolutely, but your dragon seemingly kept any threats at bay. When she was satisfied with her meal, the Great Shadow scooped you onto her back and relaunched into the air again to continue your flight for Westeros. You both dried in the air.

The trip was draining.

It was grueling on you both.

Yet when you saw the distant shore, you couldn't help the spike of relief in your heart and veins.

Once in Westeros, you were forced to ground yourselves in the open area of the Stormlands because you needed to know where to go since Nettles hadn't been sure where to send you specifically. Using the usual thunderstorm as cover, you had to separate from the Great Shadow; leaving her in the dark as you ventured to the closest village.

With the pouch of Gold Dragons Nettles gave you, you paid for information that you needed. You were told all the nitty gritty details about the Dance of the Dragons that you've missed, understanding what (Nettles and) the Lord of Light had been trying to tell you for years: the Black Queen would be Prince Daemon's death.

The time had come for you to return his favor from the Stepstones. If this worked the way you wanted it to, you wouldn't be his first, second, nor third wife, but his fourth and final. You knew what you had to do.

"What do you know of their whereabouts?" You asked the innkeeper who wiped down the bar you leaned on.

"The Princes?" She asked, tisking right after. "The One Eyed Prince has been burning the Riverlands for almost two weeks now. The Rogue Prince was in Maidenpool but he's called his nephew to meet him at, uh, oh... Oh, bullocks, what's that haunted castle? The one that was torched?"

"Harrenhal?"

She snapped her fingers at you, "That's the one!"

"Fuckin' Hell," you muttered, wiping your eyes. "What's your thinking, love? 'Bout this war?"

She scoffed, rolling her eyes, "Stupidest thing I've endured so far. How silly, the House of the Dragon does not know who rules it, or so says our liege lord. So we must all pay their price in Fire and Blood."

You nodded slowly, "Who do you think holds the better claim t'the Throne?"

"Depends on your views," she muttered, "but in truth, it doesn't matter to me - so long as this all comes to an end. But between us?" She leaned in, glancing around before muttering, "The Bitch Queen would burn us all. Can't say if King Aegon would be much better, but at least we'd know what we were dealing with."

"And if he was another Maegor?"

"Can't be worse than the Black Queen. Hear they call her Maegor with Tits."

You smirked, chuckling lightly, "Thank you, ma'am, for your words." You offered her a few Gold Dragons, repeating, "Harrenhal?"

"Harrenhal," she nodded, accepting the payment. "I do not know if the One Eyed Prince will answer the Rogue Prince's challenge, but that is where he lures Prince Aemond - Harrenhal. Now, how's about a nice bowl of stew? You look drenched, love, and a bit skinny - you been eatin'?"

"Your kindness is refreshing in this shit-for-a-kingdom."

You winked at her and tapped the bar in parting before turning for the door, and into the rain you ventured once more. You didn't notice the cold, your Lord kept you warm and moving; finding the Great Shadow, mounting, and shooting off into the unknown sky again.

It wasn't easy directing a dragon without a saddle nor any stabilizing reins, yet your beast was something of a decently smooth fly. You minimally directed her as you went, but in truth, her instincts directed you both more than anything. When the storm broke, you were soon flying over charred scores of land; homes smoldering and burning, the wind spreading the embers and never letting the fire fully die out.

"The fuck..." You muttered, sitting up straight as you flew through the carnage. "Seven Hells, he burnt it all, didn't he?" You whispered, needing to hold onto the spinal ridges of your dragon to keep balanced. "Gods be good," you gaped at the damage beneath you.

The sun moved into position, getting ready to set when you heard the horrible screams of feuding dragons. You couldn't see Harrenhal yet, but you heard the fight, and then, as the sun began to set, there came flashes of bright firelight that lit the sky to a new level.

It was nearly the shade of daylight with the way the flames danced against the setting sun. You were desperate to get closer, and after directing the Great Shadow over a set of charred rolling hills, you finally had Harrenhal in sight. "Go! Go, please! That's them - we need t'get there!" You begged through a small sob of panic, and if possible, your dragon flew all the faster.

You were so close, yet felt so far.

The air trembled when the pair of dragons, Vhagar and Caraxes, collided in the sky once more. They grappled and snarled and shrieked and blew flames and gnashed their teeth and slashed their talons. You paid no mind to the pregnant woman standing on the shoreline of the lake they fought over, and instead, focused on your task; feeling as if you were moving on pure instinct and adrenaline.

The Great Shadow dove low to the lake's surface as Caraxes and Vhagar came barreling to the ground. It all happened too fast. As the two dragons fell, you saw one man - in black armor - leap from his crimson beast with his Valyrian sword winking in the dying light. Just as his arm extended to pierce Dark Sister into Aemond's blind eye, the dragons were tussling enough to turn over and forced Daemon off their hide.

You gasped as you reacted - no fucking thought to your actions.

As the Great Shadow glided over the surface of the Gods Eye lake, you were leaping off her back to launch into the air; tackling the Rogue Prince hard enough to disrupt his impact on the water's surface. You hit the water all the same, but instead of it being like hitting fresh pavement, it was a softer landing due to the Great Shadow's expert and quick maneuvering.

Two dragons hit the water, three human bodies; sending a wave of water higher than the towers of Harrenhal's fortress. It was a shock to land in something so wet and cold, but your adrenaline was stronger than any feeling of freezing water. Your arms kept an iron-clad lock around Daemon's unconscious waist, surfacing as the lake rippled and churned from impact; turning a seeping red from the open wounds on the dragon sinking into the depths.

Prince Aemond never surfaced, and years from now, he'd be found still chained to Vhagar's saddle with Dark Sister still stabbed through his skull. His Red Witch standing on shore couldn't save him, it appearing that your Lord preferred the Rogue Prince to the One Eyed.

Keeping Daemon afloat was difficult, but to your shock, you were being gently propelled forward to the shore by a fatally injured Caraxes. You encouraged him best you could, trying not to choke on the water splashing around your frantic forms. When you were able, you started heaving and dragging Daemon up the lake's embankment; the crimson dragon crawling out of the lake behind you, slowly, heading towards Harrenhal. You wanted to offer the loyal beast aid or comfort, but you were much too preoccupied with his master that was dead weight in the water's surf.

You trembled as you swiftly hoisted his dragon winged helmet off to leave bobbing in the surf; unhooked his armor, shucking it off him and compressing his chest rapidly - just like a fisherman taught you to do.

"C'mon," you grunted. "C'mon, Daemon, breathe - fucking breathe, damnit! Please, come back to me - don't do this. I just found you again, c'mon, my Prince, breathe. Breathe, Daemon, don't give up - not now, not on us! Don't give up on us, c'mon, my Prince, breathe, w-we finally have our time." Sobs wracked your form. "Breathe, Daemon, please! Please! I'm back - I finally found you, please, my love, breathe!"

You shoved harder into his breast bone with increased ferocity until water came suddenly spewing from his lungs. You heard the Great Shadow land in the near distance, turning Daemon on his side to help him breathe better; choking the water out. You spoke in relief, "There, there you go, c'mon, love, breathe! Thank fucking Gods, you're all right, you're okay, get it out - you're okay, just breathe, my love."

Daemon choked your name in pure disbelief, holding one of your wrists in a vice grip that only briefly concerned you. He panted and relaxed into the embankment, loosening his grip as he turned over to look up at you in shock and wonder. "How is this possible?" He wheezed.

"It's a bit of a long story," you teased softly, caressing his cheek. "Bit of a boring tale, 'M afraid."

"How? How is - how can this be?"

"You needed me," you explained, "thought I'd return the favor since you saved me all those years ago, huh? You got me out of the sea, I got you out of the lake - we're even, yeah?"

He still panted, only staring at you as if he couldn't believe himself. "You've not aged a day," he whispered.

You smiled, petting his cheekbone with your thumb daintly. "You need rest, reprieve, aid," you whispered.

"No, no," he gulped, "not when I just got you back. T-Tell me 's done. Tell me we're done being apart."

"You have a wife still, Daemon. She won't let you go, she wouldn't let us be together."

"Tell me what your flames say."

"Now you trust my flames?"

"When they bring you back to me, yes - oh, fuck yes, I'll believe whatever those fucking flames say. Please, love, for us - consult your flames, tell me what they've said."

You frowned, petting a soaking wet lock of hair from his forehead. Quietly, you whispered, "My Lord showed me what was to pass if I did not come for you... This war, this Dance of Dragons, would claim your life, Daemon. Your wife, your niece... She'll be the end of you, my Prince. You will not survive if you go back to her. Neither of you will survive this... My Lord has shown me that Rhaenyra will meet her end in flames, but following her will cost you your life in water," you glanced at the lake. "Not a death befitting of a Targaryen Prince."

"And now?"

"Now, she will fight her own battles for the first time," you whispered, "and I will return home, and you will make a choice."

He smirked, "We've gone lifetimes apart, like you said before."

"We have."

"I would not go another day," he coughed, wincing in pain. "I do not think I can fight anymore anyways, love. Please... Please."

Daemon never begged. You swallowed harshly, asking him, "No? No more fighting?"

"No," he agreed. "'M so tired, my sweet. I-I can't do this forever," he half-slurred, making you perk up slightly in attention. "Retirement sounds all too appealing now. Rumor will spread that neither Aemond or I lived, it'll be the perfect escape."

You nodded in agreement, flinching when a new voice screeched, "YOU BITCH!"

The pregnant woman you saw on shore stormed towards you, making you chuckle dryly as you had already foreseen this Alys Rivers - pregnant concubine of the One Eyed Prince Aemond and fellow Follower of R'hllor. Alys was unique in the sense that her training was decent enough to ensnare Aemond (it seemed), but not so decent that the Lord yet favored her.

She wasn't more than ten feet from you when the Great Shadow opened her mouth and showered the Red Witch in holy flames; an end she surely did not see coming - not that R'hllor would've showed her. This all caught Daemon's attention, who flinched slightly when he had to turn and look; not expecting the flames nor the beast.

Then his eyes drifted over the land, breathing hitching, and he sat up with a painful groan. "Daemon," you worried, but instead of trying to get him down, you helped him up.

You knew what he saw.

When at Caraxes' side, you helped Daemon lower to his knees at his dragon's head. He whimpered and moaned, belly slashed open, wing torn apart; bleeding out into the cold soil he rested on. The Great Shadow moaned gently in sympathy, lowering herself around you three to let you grieve in peaceful, protective privacy and ease Caraxes to his next life.

The moon was fully in the sky when the crimson bloodwyrm took his final breath with the ebony giant's flames to warm you all. You weren't sure what could be done, but Daemon was pressing a tender kiss to his dragon's head before turning to face you - a lost, confused, vulnerable look coating his features. "Come on, love," you eased gently, helping him to his feet; knowing a few ribs were shattered and probably his clavicle, too.

"Where will we go now?"

"Well, I have somewhere safe for us t'live," you grunted in assurance, wobbling a little under his weight. "But we need rest for tonight. Any ideas?"

"I doubt anyone will venture to Harrenhal this night, should be safe..."

You agreed, and together, you and Daemon settled in the empty castle with the Great Shadow resting on the outskirts of the Keep. She was too big for the interior of the courtyard, so, she was left outside with Caraxes' corpse as you and Daemon settled in the room he had commandeered.

"How is this possible? How can you be here?" He asked, holding your hips as you worked between his spread legs. Daemon had minimal supplies at the ready; hopping up on a work bench to let you care for his injuries and wounds. He watched your every move with a softening look. "I thought I wouldn't ever see you again, that I'd be cursed to only remember you in my dreams. Rhaenyra said I say your name a lot at night, when I sleep."

"I'm really here, Daemon, ease yourself," you offered an assuring grin, tending to the head wounds he obtained from the fight.

"How?"

"Nettles."

"What?"

"Nettles," you repeated with a smirk. "She's one of my Little Birds, Daemon. It was not entirely coincidence she found you..."

"So she said," he frowned. "But how - "

"She told me you needed me," you smiled softly. "And when I consulted the flames, I was shown what could be. I made a decision, I just wanted you safe, no matter what that meant."

"I just want you. Fuck," he seethed, squeezing your hips, "'s been fucking decades since I've even touched you."

"You're delirious," you teased. "Sleep deprived, maybe concussed."

"Perhaps all at once, but I finally have all I've dreamt of. Please," he whispered, "do not deny us longer. I've endured lifetimes - "

"Daemon, being here and now, you know I can't walk away. But we've time t'talk it all out, I need you to let me help your wounds - so sit still."

He nodded, "One thing I do not understand, though - the dragon? How did you...?"

"Spent two years in Valyria, looking for her."

"Why were you there?"

"Searching for a dragon, of course," you smirked. "She's impressive, isn't she? And from her size, I wager she can easily support us both back across the Narrow Sea."

He grit his teeth when you cleaned his open cuts and wounds, wrapping whatever clean cloth you had around the larger wounds; easing him out of his tunic to have better access to the blackened ribs he sported. "Would you tell me?" Daemon whispered some time later.

"Of what?"

"Your life since the Stepstones?"

"Oh," you chuckled, "sweet love, you know it was dreadfully boring without you."

"Doesn't seem it, you being in Valyria two years? That's not heard of, what was it like? How'd you survive? Why go looking for a dragon?"

This lead to you both laying in bed, hands held together, resting, but not sleeping. You just spoke quietly, fingertips tracing idly over each other's faces; sharing in each others lives that the other missed, reminiscing together in fond memories.

When morning broke, you had to move swiftly. Caraxes was left where he laid and after a final parting to the loyal beast and commandeering his saddle, together, you and Daemon mounted the Great Shadow. She wasn't a fan of the restraints, but once you and Daemon were mounted, she did not fuss as it was evident you humans had an easier time with the leather contraption.

"I must confess," Daemon whispered in your ear, using you as an anchor and leaning into your back, "I fear I might feel something akin to guilt for fleeing home."

"That's natural," you assured, "you're leaving family behind, 's never easy."

"There was no winning this war," he admitted, sighing. "I lead so many to their death... Destroyed my family - "

"From what I have heard, this is not your doing," you argued sharply. "That night, when Aemond attacked Lucerys, what were you to do? Leave that kind of atrocity without consequence? No, that is not in the Targaryen's nature. You did not start this war, Daemon."

"But I knew..."

"You knew what?"

"I knew Jace, Luke, and Joffrey were Harwin Strong's, not Laenor Velaryon's. We thought if we married her sons to my daughters, nobody would care much else about lineage - but we were wrong."

"It's okay to be wrong," you promised, leaning your head back to let your forehead rest against his temple. "It's okay to make mistakes or have regret. Tell me, do you wish to return to your wife? I will take you now, no quest - "

"No. No, I do not wish to leave you. This is... This is Rhaenyra's war, I've done my part. I'm free and finally with whom I belong."

"Now it's time to heal," you told him.

"Time to rest," he agreed, squeezing your waist and placing a few kisses to your neck. "This is where I should've been all this time... After the Stepstones, I should've stayed with you, none of this would've come to pass. I regret leaving you everyday - "

"I told you, for us to get here, to this point, now, we had to separate. But look where we are," you smiled back at him, the Great Shadow soaring higher in the sky to keep Westeros at a distance, "we will not be apart again. 'S you and me, love... Until our end, which we will greet together."

Daemon's lips found yours at long last, whispering, "Together," against them before sweeping his tongue against yours.

The port was lovely this time of day, sun high in the sky to give light to the fishermen and vendors hard at work. Sailors made port, calms were being shucked, different Aristocats trying to barter and trade on their journeys abroad. You smiled at the people you passed, grateful to be home after a prolonged absence; arm looped tight with Daemon's as you both strolled the pier.

"It's hard to imagine you've done all this in a lifetime or less," he mused, a hand folded over yours, dressed in the best clothes you could find. "It's s marvel, my sweet," his compliment was sincere.

"Thank you," you whispered, hugging his arm as your skirts swished around your ankles, just tickling your bare feet. "This season's expected to be bountiful," you told him, pointing to the various teams bringing crustaceans, fish, and other sea life in different crates and traps. "I expect there won't be much of an off-season."

He glanced around, "And you don't collect taxes?"

"Why would I?" You scoffed. "We're more dynamic than that. Everyone works for their place, if you wanted to think of it that way. They are not expected to contribute, but the village seems happier that way. Being close knit, helping one another, sharing wealth. No one person has complained, so, I figure it's working so far. Even if it didn't work, I still wouldn't charge them taxes - it'd be like charging them to live. Always seemed silly t'me."

"Morning, Mistress!"

"Morning, Don," you beamed, leading Daemon towards the dock. "How are you, kind sir? Looks as if you've been working all day already."

"Aye, up before the sun," he nodded, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. "Wanted t'thank yah, actually."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, yeah, with that dragon? We're hauling in more ships," he chuckled, and just overhead, the Great Shadow glided over them all to head out to sea to fetch another round of ships. "Gets us out there quick, brings us back when done, 's like a wee bit of an assembly line, ain't it?"

You chuckled, "Sounds like it, friend. Uh, Don, have I introduced you to my husband?"

"Husband?" Don grinned, cocking his head, "No, Mistress, I wasn't aware you even had a suitor. Mariam don't tell me much gossip these days," he snickered, referring to his wife. "It's nice t'meet you," he told Daemon, "name's Don, just Don - no, it ain't short for nothin'."

Daemon smirked some, shaking the man's fishy hand boldly, "A pleasure, Don, Just Don."

"Oh, this one's got a bit uh humor, don't he?" Don laughed lightly. "What's your name, lad?"

"Daemon?" A voice answered for you all, and just above you, a little further on the pier, stood an aged Laenor Velaryon.

"Excuse us, Don," you spoke swiftly, confusion marring your features. He understood or sensed the slight tension, backing off to let you approach the "dead" knight.

"Oh, my - Y/N," Laenor breathed, another aged man at his side with what you assume to be his children. No question could be asked yet as your old friend launched himself into your arms, laughing merrily, giving you a tight squeeze with his still-toned arms. "Oh, the Gods are good for this!" He laughed, rocking you slightly, "Oh, how the Seven bless us."

"You're so dramatic," you laughed back, patting him happily until he pulled back. "But I must confess, I am so fucking confused - what is this? How are you here? I thought you died, Laenor, that's what ever spy reported."

"They should've," he nodded, glancing at Daemon, "but perhaps, the explanation will be better received after some wine?" He caressed your cheek in affection before looking at your husband, nodding, "It's good to see you again, my Prince. Or is it King Consort?"

"Neither, just Daemon," he corrected, your heart soaring a little at the idea that he would abandon his title so easily. Yet you knew, there was nothing to go back to for him.

"Well, how about I introduce my family?"

"Family?" You grinned, seeing him present the others.

"My husband," he gestured, giving his name. "And our kids," he introduced the other three.

"How?" You asked simply.

"We found a Red Priest who was willing to officiate the ceremony," Laenor explained, "and the kids were sired by different mothers, too."

"Whores," the husband smiled.

"Huh," you nodded in impression. "Well, perhaps wine is best to hear that tale, as well?"

"Perhaps," Laenor grinned. "Uh, but first, we should find accommodations - "

"Oh, come off it, you're staying with us," you waved. "Your belongings?"

"This is it," he half-shrugged, you eyeing the few rucksacks around their feet, neck, shoulders... "We heard of the prosperity here, thought it was worth the move."

"How right you are," Daemon answered. "Come, old friend." He picked up a few sacks for the kids and you looped your arm with Laenor's to lead the way. How good it was to have your friend back, your husband at your side, and a functioning, happy village with your placement amongst them most important... Everything you could've wished for, it seemed, came true.

And in your womb, a Dragon Seed was planted; soon to make its announcement known. Truly, a happier ending than you thought deserved - but R'hollr worked mysteriously, blessing those deemed worthy to spread his flames.

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

#daemon #prince daemon #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x fem!reader #daemon targaryen x f!reader #daemon targaryen x female!reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon targaryen angst #prince daemon targaryen x fem!reader #prince daemon targaryen x f!reader #prince daemon targaryen x female!reader #prince daemon targaryen imagine #prince daemon targaryen fanfiction #prince daemon targaryen angst

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auspicioustidings · 5 months

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Bannockburn

Summary: Your boyfriend Johnny has come home in a strange mood, and you are about to get your shit rocked at Bannockburn.

Technically, if you squint, a sequel to Savage set just over 700 years later. Like I will perhaps write a proper sequel at some point, but you can blame Bunny for this one.

Words: 3.6k

CW: CNC, smut, implied character death

You were getting nervous. You were getting really nervous. There were two Johnny’s and you never knew what one you were getting when he came home from a mission. Most of the time you got your Johnny, sweet and loving and tackling you to the bed with a laugh while he showed you how much he missed you. But sometimes whatever happened out on mission got his blood up. Whatever he usually did to get himself settled and out of war mode didn’t take. Sometimes you got the Savage Johnny, the one who heard your English accent and became more animal than man. The one who went into such thick Scots that you hardly understood what he was growling into your ear as he took you.

Usually you knew what Johnny you had the moment he walked through the door. Not this time. This time he seemed like he was boiling with energy under the surface, but he kissed you nonetheless and ate dinner with you and held you as you slept. When he got you both up and packed into the car the next morning for a trip you had the sense to at least be a little worried. Now, hand held in his as you listened to the guide, you had some inkling that you might be in for it.

“Now King Edward the second invaded as a result of Bruce’s demand to his people to recognise him as their King. He summoned 25,000 infantry and 2000 horses, the largest ever army to invade Scotland. Bruce only had command of 6000 men.”

You could feel the blood draining from your face as the guide went further into the background of the battle. Around about the time she briefly mentioned how Wallace had been hanged, drawn and quartered, limbs displayed in different cities, just shy of ten years before the Battle of Bannockburn, you absolutely knew what Johnny you had on your hands. And this Johnny? There was nothing you could do to save yourself from this Johnny. This Johnny was taking in every word, ready to punish you for your ancestors' transgressions against his.

You were trying to pay attention, but your eyes were darting around trying to pinpoint any little nooks that might spell danger if he got you in them. Only that was dangerous in itself, because the first time you felt your attention drift from what was being said Johnny had let go of your hand and moved to instead hold you firm by the back of the neck, fingers massaging a little too hard in warning. That got you to pay rapt attention to all of it, to the whole history of the Scottish wars of Independence as it related to Bannockburn.

It was strange sometimes, you and Johnny. There were times like now when you would be learning about the history of your countries and it felt like some long forgotten memory. There were times when you met his Lieutenant and swore you knew him from somewhere. Like there was some ancient part of you that trusted them when they fought together to watch each other's backs. No matter what Johnny you got, you held such a deep love for him that it scared you sometimes. Your heart twisted as they described what the battle would have been like for the soldiers, the sights and sounds and weapons. It must have been awful.

You were stuck on it. Stuck on the image of a Johnny with a sword on the battlefield. That was your mistake, zoning out and just following along when he led you out to the grounds. Only when you had been walking for a while did you realise how far you were getting from the safety of a building full of people.

“Where are we going?”

“Dinae pay any attention at all did ye? Must naw have been interesting tae ye learning about how my people battered yours when they tried tae grind us intae nothing.”

“No, I was paying attention. Of course I was” you said, trying to be meek and quell some of his building fury.

“Couldnae even hunt a bunny without some English noble claiming it wisnae our right. Punishing us” he ranted before turning to you with a feral look in his eye. “Cannae stop me from hunting one right now though can they? Ye going tae run for me wee bunny?”

Fuck. He looked ready to tear into your throat with his teeth. You felt every bit a prey animal, eyes darting around to find a way out of this. The woods. There were woods here. That was where he had been leading you while you had been busy getting stuck on the idea of him as some ancient warrior fighting to the death. Gillies Hill. The guide had told you about it, how the Scottish had made their camp here. It was where they had attacked from.

And it was where you found yourself sprinting through, heart pounding. Your logical mind knew it was a mistake, you running only meant he could chase. You should have just stayed where you were, tried to talk him down. You were stumbling and tripping, trying to get your bearings as the woods became dense around you. Every snap of a twig or sway of a branch sent you darting away in the other direction until you were shaking from exhaustion and no small amount of mounting terror.

You had never been hunted like this. Johnny had been rough with you before in the warmth of your own home, had fucked you into the bed like he was trying to mould you permanently to him. But this was a different creature entirely. This was the monster under the surface that you only caught glimpses of, that you never thought you would meet face to face. The woods were silent of another human, had you managed to escape him?

“Yer naw even trying little bunny, ye want me tae catch ye is that it? Slut.”

His breath was hot on your ear and you choked on any response you had tried to come up with. How had he gotten right behind you without a sound? You were running again, tripping and scraping your knees but clawing your way back to your feet to keep going. The little summer dress was not suited for this, but at least you were wearing boots. At least Johnny had told you to wear boots this morning.

It was with a sickening dread that you realised he had planned this. He knew you would be running from him, knew he wanted you in a dress for easy access but boots for fleeing into the woods. At least you knew that your Johnny was still in there somewhere, enough to care about you not breaking an ankle. Not enough to care about breaking you in other ways.

“Aww wee English princess got her knees all scraped up? All yer kinfolk are going tae ken how ye love getting on them for good Scottish cock when they see the marks. Wee whore down in the dirt fucking gagging on it, crying over how much ye love it.”

You couldn’t properly tell what direction his voice was even coming from. The shame of his words was flooding you with a sickly humiliation that only increased when your body reacted differently to how it should have. When you throbbed with need for him.

“I’m not! That isn’t what’s happening!”

You were flustered and scared and needy and felt like you were yelling at nothing as you kept catching sight of him on your periphery only to turn and find nobody there.

“Naw? Slick is practically running down yer plush fucking thighs princess, bet yer clenching down on nothin’. Dinnae even have tae catch ye dae I? Could just wait until ye come crawling tae me, begging me tae claim ye. Fucking pleading for it right here, right where my army celebrated before decimating yours.”

His words sent a shiver up your spine. Out here felt removed from time, it really did feel like you were betraying something by finding yourself drawn to this savage. By imagining that his prediction would prove true, that you’d beg for him. You couldn’t, it would be too much, too shameful. So you kept stumbling through the woods even when the deep tenor of his voice rang through in a mocking little song.

God he had translated this for you once. Told you that brose and butter was a euphemism, that it was about fucking a girl full of cum. It had made you blush and laugh at the time when he playfully sang it over to you now that you understood the meaning, but now? Fuck now it just scared the hell out of you with how the words were tinged with a promise. This was hardly playful, he really meant to hold you down and shove himself inside you out here in the woods where anyone could walk by.

“We can’t! John please, not here” you pleaded, pausing to try and find where he was. “I… you were gone for months, I’ve not…”

He had made you promise before he left that you’d save yourself for him, wouldn’t even put your own fingers inside yourself while he was gone. And you hadn’t. Fuck you would be so tight now, not ready for him to take you hard. Had he known even then that this was the plan?

“Maiden are ye? Scared it’s going tae hurt, princess? It will, did they naw teach ye that we’re animals? We dinnae treat wee English lassies the way yer own men would. Ye’ll get treated the way ye should, like a fucking whore. And ye’ll take it won’t ye? Ye’ll take it wherever I want tae give it tae ye.”

Fuck, you were starting to slip away to whereever he was. You were starting to feel less like yourself and more like the poor English maiden being hunted by the enemy. The bunny being hunted by the hound. Starting to drift away into pure animal instinct, pure fear and arousal. You could hardly breathe now, feeling tears prick at your eyes.

“Please…” you sobbed quietly, not even sure what you were begging for.

And then he was there, towering over you and wrapping a hand around your throat, thumb beneath your chin to tilt your head and force you to look at him.

“Wonder whit they’d think of ye begging so pretty for the enemy. Cannae help yerself can ye?” he said, as if fascinated by you, slipping his other hand up your dress and under your panties. “Fucking English slut. Y’er dripping.”

Your reaction to those words was violent and unexplainable. It made your legs shake and your pussy clench painfully hard. It was confusing how much it affected you, causing such a flood of wetness that Johnny noticed, his pupils dilating as he squeezed at your throat and laughed when that made you whimper and claw at his hand. He only kept on squeezing until you were starting to see stars.

“Dinnae fucking move princess.”

The pressure of his hands was gone in an instant and the flood of oxygen made you dizzy. There was no time for you to recover before he was on his knees in the dirt, treating your pussy like it was a mouth and sloppily kissing it over your panties. The press of his tongue was insistent and overwhelming, like he was trying to bully it past the fabric. When he ripped at your waistband with his teeth the lace tore.

He continued his attack like he truly was a wolf sinking his teeth into a fresh meal, completely ruining your underwear until the mangled scraps fell to the floor and left you bare. Your hands were woven into his mohawk and you tried to pull him away, earning a growl that reverberated into your bones and a heavy handed smack to your ass before he assaulted your clit with tongue and teeth and spit.

You felt yourself clench so hard that you almost felt nauseous. Fuck. You were trying to keep some sense of self, trying to remember that you were out in public and he was some feral version of the man you loved who was saying horrible things to you and promising he was going to hurt you. But there was a creeping haze taking over, turning you dumb for him.

It wasn’t even something you had been aware was happening when you came on his tongue. It was just sensation, just the desperate need for more. The primal desperation to be fuller even as he pushed his tongue into your over sensitive hole while your walls fluttered through the pleasure of that high.

“Please, need you.”

“Aye, that right? Needy wee slut.”

You were too far gone to notice that while he was rough in getting you onto your back in the dirt, one hand was gentle in cradling your head to make sure it landed softly.

“Use those pretty wee words. Ask me for it the way ye’d ask a good English man.”

Ask me for it the way ye’d ask Simon.

When all you could do was wriggle underneath him and whine he grabbed the neckline of your dress and yanked it down to let your breasts spill out, slapping hard at one and making you howl.

“They naw teach ye how tae talk proper ye wee slut? Ask fucking nicely.”

“Please, please I want you inside me.”

“Aye, can tell that princess. Whit else?”

“Want you to cum inside me.”

“Good fucking girl, wisnae so hard now was it?”

He didn’t take any of his clothes off, just fished his hard cock from his jeans, hooked your knees on his shoulders and pressed into your wet heat in one fluid motion. You both groaned as he bottomed out. It had been so long, you were so fucking tight around him.

“M’so full, thank you thank you ,m’yours, need you. Fuck, ah. Made for you, it’s so much” you rambled, incoherent in your bliss.

“There she is, needed this naw? Needed my cock deep in this tight wee English cunt. Cannae be a person without it, it’s whit ye were made for. Fucking built tae be on yer back with yer legs open for me.”

He stayed like that for what felt like forever, the fullness pushing any coherent thought out of your head. Fuck he was so deep like this, with you nearly folded in half. It felt like you were choking on his dick. You were clawing at the dirt by your sides so hard that you thought your fingers might bleed, but he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head before they could.

You were so cock drunk that you were only distantly aware of the look in his eyes now, the almost obsessive adoration as he took in how you looked pressed into the earth like this, dress rucked up from the bottom and pulled down from the top, palm print visible from where he had slapped at you, knees by your ears, hands pinned over your head and yet despite it all so blissed out you were salivating and babbling at him how you needed him.

When he pulled all the way out to the tip and then slammed back home you choked on the wind being knocked right out of you. It only encouraged him as he started to fuck you hard and deep, taking him time to make sure every thrust settled him so incredibly deep inside of you that you were floating.

“Braw wee creature aren’t ye? Feart of me and gagin’ fer it anyway. Dinnae fash bonnie, gettin’ yer hole proper.”

You knew vaguely that he was close because you could hardly understand what he was saying. You were so unable to do anything in this position, no leverage on your arms and legs that you could use to pull him closer.

“Inside, need it inside. Please, please ah!” you cried, no shame left in so as you begged like a bitch in heat for him to cum inside you.

He shifted and sped his pace, nailing that spongy spot inside you that was making your vision black out with every thrust. You’d have marks on you from the buttons and zipper of his jeans. You’d have marks on your throat and your wrists, on your tits. He needed more, he needed anyone to take one look at you and know who you belonged to.

“‘at’s it, take it. Fuck. Good lass” he groaned as he sunk his teeth into your throat and your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you came, clamping down on his cock.

He jackhammered into you, forcing his way in while your pussy tried to force him out. The tight heat of it was too much and he growled and stilled after one more brutal thrust had him cumming deep inside you. He collapsed on top of you, the painful stretch from being folded as you were a delicious burn with the extra pressure forcing you to stretch further.

You stayed like that for a while, both panting. Only when you were slowly coming back to your senses did you feel a sharp pain in your back from what must have been a particularly jagged stone. Ah, you thought you were probably bleeding on it, feeling something sticky.

“Bannockburn” you breathed out softly.

The pressure was off of you almost immediately and he let go of your wrists and kneeled up, pulling out with a soft sigh leaving both of you at the feeling. He was quick to tuck himself in before his hands were back on you, gentle this time, fixing your dress and rubbing at all the spots he had marked.

“C’mere bonnie, ye did so well. Hurting anywhere I need tae look at?”

He looked at your back when you told him, laying soft kisses of apology on you as he cleaned it up. You used to tease Johnny for the little first aid kit he always had strapped to the back of his jeans whenever you went out, but it was coming in incredibly handy. Your panties were toast and he sheepishly tucked the remnants of them into his pocket before getting you to unsteady feet.

“Creeping Jesus, I’ve made a right mess out of ye” he said with a bashful sort of grin, doing his best to try and fix your hair.

“Hmm, s’ok” you replied, still a little hazy.

He kissed you soundly and then gave you an absolute squeeze of a cuddle before scooping you into his arms in a princess carry.

“Let’s get ye all tucked up in the car then we can have a bath and dinner when we’re home eh?”

You nodded and nuzzled into his chest to get comfortable. He would take care of you, he always did.

–

John MacTavish didn’t know how he got so lucky. Not any woman would be softly dozing off in his arms after what he had just put you through. Fuck you were beautiful all of the time, but when you were like this? Fucked out and marked up but achingly soft for him in the afterglow? Jesus, he loved you. He would love you forever, through lifetimes.

He’d explain obviously, he should really have warned you how hard he was going to go, that should have been pre-negotiated. But he had been so wound up. Fucking Simon Riley and his little comments about you, winding him up by putting thoughts in his head about how demure an English man could get you. It should have just made him laugh and shove at him, instead it made his blood boil and his cock hard and he had taken it out on you. You had let him, you always did until either of you thought it wasn’t safe.

He paused on his way out of the woods with you, considering waking you so you could see the little glade he had come upon. It was pretty as anything, almost felt like hallowed ground with a giant stone right in the middle. Something about it called to an ancient longing within him. Fuck. He wanted to marry you out here. Was that ridiculous? Maybe just post orgasm stupidity.

Still as he settled you in the car and took you home so he could love you properly, he thought maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

–

“Fuck, Johnny.”

Simon Riley was an Englishman through and through. Everytime he stepped into battle it was to strike down those who would oppose his King and country. Yet he had left the battlefield. He had tracked into the woods, to where he knew MacTavish had crawled off to die. He found him leant against the stone that sat in the centre of a glade. Of course this is where he would want to die. Not on the battlefield, but here. The place he had married you. The place they both had.

“Ye come tae watch it for yerself Si?” Johnny said with a laugh that turned to a hacking cough.

“Course. Been trying to kill you for years, not about to miss it.”

Simon sat next to him, both of them looking at the sunlight filtering through the trees. It was peaceful here. Maybe in another lifetime they would not have been enemies. Maybe in another lifetime they could have been brothers.

“Ye’ll look after her until I can find her again?”

“Always.”

#mhairiwrites #cod #cod au #fanfic #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #look I am very much implying that Simon is going to get in on this action #I used all my smut braincells on Savage so the smut is not really hitting as good #had to let some of the angst braincells out for a bit or it wasn't going to get written #personally I think having Bannockburn as a safeword was sick and twisted of me <3

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midnightechoes · 1 year

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So this week is going to go down as maybe the most sapphic week in animation history. It’s going to have a great case, there are so many sapphic shows or shows with prominent sapphic couples airing this week.

Don’t know what I’m talking about? Here’s a quick rundown:

Yuri Is My Job!

Premiering on Crunchyroll on April 6th.

Yuri is My Job! is based on a yuri manga of the same name. It follows high schooler Hime, who cares deeply about her image as sweet and helpful, even though she’s actually selfish. She accidentally injures the manager of a cafe, and agrees to work there to make up for it. But this is no ordinary cafe, it’s like a cafe dinner theater where all the waitresses play characters from a fictional high school and act out skits for the patrons. Hime’s character is supposed to be in love with one of the other waitresses’ character, but she starts actually falling for the girl. Only problem is, behind the scenes the other waitress seems to hate her.

Yeah, that sounds kind of bonkers! I can already see the story now, Hime starting out playing a role, and eventually having to legitimately earn the love of Mitsuki.

Birdie Wing: Golf Girls’ Story

Season 2 premiering on Crunchyroll on Friday, April 7th

Ah Birdie Wing. If you saw season one, you know just how delightful wacky this show is. It follows the stories of Eve, a golfer that plays in illegal underground golf matches for the mob, and Aoi, a golf prodigy and the new sensation of the golf world. Their lives crash into each other and the chemistry is overwhelming and immediate.

Technically Eve and Aoi aren’t canon as of the end of s1, but it’s hard to imagine that the show isn’t heading in that direction. It makes no effort to hide the fact that these two are into each other.

I’m so excited to see what season 2 has in store for these two. Birdie Wing is just a delightfully weird little show.

Princess Principal: Crown Handler Chapter 3

Premieres in theaters in Japan on Friday, April 7th

Alright, so this won’t be useful to a lot of people reading this, as this is only premiering in Japan this weekend. But I wanted to mention it because (a) it’ll come over to the US sometime this year, and (b) Princess Principal is awesome and I want to promote it when I can.

Princess Principal was a 12 episode series that aired in 2017, and Crown Handler is a six-part sequel OVA series.

In a nutshell, Princess Principal is a steampunk spy thriller set in an alternate universe European kingdom that has been divided by a wall, Berlin-style. It follows a team of spies, masquerading as high school girls, as they try to prevent the two sides from going to war.

I know, “why is this on a list of gay shit?” Well, because it is. Two of the main characters, Ange and Princess Charlotte, are big-time into each other and while the original series does the anime thing of “we’re only allowed to go so far with this”, the OG series has a lot of intimate scenes between the two and does end *SPOILERS* with the two of them sitting on the beach together while holding hands.

And perhaps Crown Handler, being made years later, can finally take their relationship farther.

RWBY Volume 9

Volume 9 episode 8 airing on Crunchyroll on Saturday, April 8th

RWBY has been ongoing, and the current volume has been airing since February, but there’ll be another episode this Saturday. Right now RWBY is in the middle of dealing with a lot of trauma, BUT, the bees are canon and dating so every episode of RWBY is now officially gay. So says me.

The Owl House: Watching and Dreaming

Series finale airing on the Disney Channel on Saturday, April 8th

I’M NOT READY TO LOSE THIS SHOW! 😭

*ahem* The third and final season 3 special airs on Saturday, and promises to be mega emotional and super gay.

I’m grateful that this show had a chance to finish its story, something a lot of sapphic media doesn’t get to do. But I am still pissed about it getting cancelled in the first place simply because it didn’t fit their “brand” (read: this show is too gay for Disney).

But I just know that Dana and her team put together a sensational finale.

Mobile Suit Gundam: the Witch From Mercury

Season 2 premiering on Crunchyroll on Sunday, April 9th.

Affectionately called G-Witch, season 1 of this show was a revelation in the fall. It follows the story of Suletta Mercury, precious cinnamon roll and the most talented mobile suit pilot around, and Miorine Rembran, daughter of the president of the Benerit Group, a mega-corporation that has massive political power.

The show revolves around a school that’s mostly full of the children of powerful people. And then there’s Suletta, a nobody that just wants to be a normal girl and have a normal school life but through a series of events ends up in a mobile suit duel that she easily wins, earning her the title of Holder, which makes her Miroine’s groom.

At first, the two treat the arrangement as a business arrangement, both seeing practical value in this arranged engagement. But it’s obvious that Miorine is actually pretty into Suletta from the start, and we see Suletta slowly falling for Miorine too.

G-Witch is incredible. Part awesome mecha fights, part political intrigue, part romance between two useless girls who’d rather die that admit their actual feelings.

I am SO EXCITED for season 2!

LGBTQ media hasn’t had it great as of late, with a ton of frustrating cancellations and it almost feeling like Hollywood is going backwards in terms of its commitment to giving us space to tell our stories.

But animation, both in the US and in Japan, seems to be making great strides, being our light in the dark.

All five of these shows are airing episodes this week, and Crown Handler will be in theaters this week and on streaming/blu-ray later this year. RWBY has been airing for weeks and its been the gayest volume yet. the Magical Revolution of the Reincarnated Princess and the Genius Young Lady just finished airing and was wonderfully sapphic. I’m In Love With the Villainess is scheduled to air sometimes this year. And just maybe we might get Arcane season 2 before the end of the year.

I’m excited for how sapphic and yuri animation is progressing, I hope it keeps going forward.

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paganminiskirt · 1 month

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Like Frieza and Vegeta’s relationship was absolutely abusive and exploitative from start to finish but I think people write it wrong. Well not wrong, just in a way that I personally believe removes the deeper horror in favor of an easy depiction of what a relationship like that looks like. He’s not getting strung up and whipped or locked in a cell to cry, he’s getting his chin scratched by a person who uprooted him from everything he had ever known on a whim and destroyed the culture upon which he founded his most nascent sense of identity. And that person is only keeping him alive because despite it all, he’s useful, and kind of cute, especially now that all the other Saiyans are dead. Vegeta’s a small child being made to commit atrocities for profit an amusing little novelty, still using the honorifics & regurgitating the legends of a planet that’s been obliterated. DBS is not a perfect sequel by any means but it did this part so, so well. “All hail Vegeta, prince of no one.” “I always thought you shined the brightest when you were serving as my pet.”

Sickening, yes? And the intimacy is the worst part, the realization that Frieza seems to favor him; seems to like him. Who knows, maybe Vegeta reminded him of himself at some ancient, half-forgotten stage of life. King Cold did drop him like a hot potato as soon as he was proven weaker than Trunks. Maybe that’s the whole reason he made King Vegeta give up his kid in the first place. Frieza’s relationship with his father is shallow and dependent entirely on his value as a soldier, the underlying cruelty of which they’ve both silently agreed to use superfluous affection to cover up? Fine. He’s gonna make the Saiyan king give up his own militarized child prince. He’s gonna strip away the cultural justifications for what he’s doing to his son by making him treat it like the cold, spineless profiteering that it always was. He’s gonna rub it in.

But hey, he’s not mad at the kid. It was his dad who got too big for the barrel. Vegeta is still serving his purpose, Vegeta is still being good. Why wouldn’t Frieza treat him in accordance with his “station,” even after it’s been rendered an empty title because of him. All he has to do is keep spinning the wheel on the Cold Empire, vomiting out violence into the endless vacuum of space & never getting too uppity about his dead father or dead planet or about the fact that, even when reduced to the most baseline level of childish narcissism, the state which this arrangement has emotionally stunted him into maintaining well into adulthood, he never actually wanted any of this. He didn’t want to leave Planet Vegeta! He didn’t want to grow up surrounded by strangers! He didn’t want to have no claim over anything he ever achieved! He wanted to work for himself! It wasn’t his choice!!! For all of Vegeta’s dickswinging and hierarchy and “pride,” he is so, so helpless, “like a tiny insect glowing in a jar,” as Frieza so helpfully summarized for us. Overcorrection layered on overcorrection layered on overcorrection layered on desperate, screeching fear and sadness and shame. Blow up a planet. Nuke a city. Wipe out a village. Fix It Again, Tony.

And that viciously indulgent cruelty that Vegeta used to comfort himself as he grew into a man is only emphasized by how blasé Frieza appears to be about the whole thing. He’s calm. He’s secure. He spends half the arc sitting down, just watching. He’s what Vegeta was in the first part of the Saiyan saga, and he slowly turns into what Vegeta slowly turned into in the second part of the Saiyan saga. An addled, wounded, unthinking mess, trying to put their self image back together as someone else’s superior ability causes it to crumble. Frieza was scared of the super saiyan. Under all that collected ambivalence, that whole time, he was scared.

Vegeta is Frieza’s heir. As gross as that incongruent, unwanted warmth is to witness, Frieza succeeded in establishing influence over & connection between himself and the child he orphaned. And the process of healing from that relationship involves Vegeta going back to square one and having to acquiesce to another foreign, combat oriented culture populated by vaguely hostile strangers. He gets new clothes. He gets a new place to train. He gets new tasks to perform. He gets called cute.

Like. It’s not physical torture, at least not as we usually imagine it. It’s this slow poisoning of a person’s ability to trust and connect with others, a process which is gussied up by regular assertions of fondness, so casual & consistent that you have to actively remind yourself that the guy who’s doing it sees Vegeta as a literal subhuman, and is only being good to him the way you’d be good to a valued piece of property. He tortured him to death, but he still thinks he was a good pet. Vegeta’s life was Frieza’s to end, but his feats of wanton destruction were also his to be proud of.

That’s the whole reason why Vegeta’s character development was slow, ugly and recidivist. Because it was his knowledge of how to grow, of how to exist any other way, that Frieza intentionally eroded for his own selfish, petty gain. And for a relationship between a man with a monkey tail and his pink-skinned alien overlord, the most uncomfortable part about the dynamic is that it’s realistic. Common, even.

#Frieza #Vegeta #dbz

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a-casual-kpopfan · 11 months

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Reminisce and Regrets

A/N: “Italic” dialogue indicates it being spoken in English. “Normal” dialogue indicates it being spoken in Korean.

Shoutout to @nojisunnomercy for the commission piece, really make me and Ghost to write and go through to make a sequel to Consquences and Regrets.

~~~~~

I made you my everything. Put my life in your hands and you held the strings.

She really was your everything. Don't know who I am anymore.

Let me down every time and I hit the floor.

Even with what she did, you still forgave her back then, entrusting her not to hurt you again.

And you gave me nothing at all. Only empty excuses to try and break the fall.

Despite your forgiveness, she ended up betraying you again. So, I did what I never could to do.

And I cut myself loose from you.

If she didn’t do it… Would you still be with her?

“Hey!”

“Oi, you bastard!”

With a yell, you snap back to reality, the image of her gone from your mind, replaced by your grumpy friend, frowning at you. “The food is going to be cold if you keep staring into nothing like that.”

At that time, you put your earbuds down, and noises start to flood back into your ears. The clinking of utensils hitting each other’s and the plate. Chattering from nearby tables. Sounds of people walking and cars driving on the road.

No longer are you drowned in your own thoughts. You’re back to reality: a small café near your workplace, where you and your friend decide to have lunch.

“You can just start first you know.” You shrug. “Didn’t have to wait for me.”

“Bro, I already finished half of mine, and you haven’t even touched yours.”

“Oh.” Looking down onto the table, you barely touch your food while your friend is almost done with his.

“You know, it’s not like we are strangers or anything.” Your friend lets out a sigh. “I’m worried about you dude. You haven’t been like this since the first week that you arrived here, and that was years ago!”

“Yeah, well, you know I got cheated on by my ex, what else do you need to know?” You chuckle lightly, starting to dig into your already cold meal.

“The details! The beauty is in the details, my guy.” Your friend responds with a chuckle, which morphs into a worried smile “Don’t you think let it out is better than keeping it all in?”

“Well... I’ll think about the offer, but thanks anyways.” You smile at your friend. A bit mischievous, but a good person at heart. You know he only has your best intention in his mind, and you are grateful for it. But you are not about to ruin her image, it’s the least you can do for her, even if she betrayed you twice.

“Anyways, I got us tickets!” Your friend decides to change the subject, tapping something on his phone before showing you the image of 2 tickets on his hand. “For what, exactly?” You think you know what those tickets are for, but you pray to God that you are wrong, just this one time.

“For the Loona concert!”

Fuck.

You swear in your head. It’s bad enough that the news of their tour, and images of them circulating in twitter inadvertently got you thinking about her again, after all those years. Now attending a concert and seeing them live?

God knows what could happen.

“How did you even get your hands on this?” You ask purely out of curiosity as to how your friend managed to acquire the tickets. You know how fast these tickets sell out. “Heh, what can I say? Lady luck was on my side that day~” Your friend looks incredibly proud of himself.

“So… Who are you going with?” You ask, a futile attempt in hopes that you might not have to go. “You, of course.” You groan at his answer.

“Come on, I know you want to attend it. You’re Korean, for god’s sake!” Your friend beams at you. “Most people don’t even recognize me as a Korean.” You counter. “That’s because you grow your fucking hair and beard out. They look good on you by the way, paired with those glasses-” He does the typical chef’s kiss motion “but just saying.” Your friend nearly explodes, but in a playful way, as he points out your distinct changes.

“I get your point, and?”

“And it might be a nice chance to use your mother tongue again. You’ve been using English ever since you got here, and God bless you for being fluent in English because none of us know a lick of Korean, I just feel like it’s unfair for you.”

“You really don’t have to do that.” You smile lightly. Amongst the various coworkers you worked with when you first arrived, only this guy stuck with you through thick and thin, inadvertently ending up as your best friend… Still, he can’t replace her, but he is good to you, and you gratefully accept that. What you don’t want to accept is the tickets.

“But-”

“Nah ah, no buts! I already paid for the damn tickets; I can use it however I want. And I want you to go with me on that day, and that is final!” Your friend stares at you with his fake aggressiveness that you are oh so familiar already. And you know that he won’t budge at this point, no matter how much you say to him.

“Alright, you win. I’ll go with you.” You let out a light chuckle, to which your friend also smiles at you. “There we go, couldn’t you be like this earlier?”

“Shut up.” Both of you laugh at the banter while enjoying the rest of the lunch. You can’t help but feel dreaded at the notion of seeing her, or the girls again, but they might not recognize you with how much you’ve changed. Ignoring the dull pain in your heart at the thought of them not recognizing you, you still think that it would be for the best. You are not the same as you were back then.

Not anymore.

-----

“Yah! Yeojin! Sit back down, why are you jumping around??”

“I’m so hungry… Do we have anything to eat? Hey, are you listening to me?”

To say that the bus is chaotic would be an understatement.

In typical Loona fashion, the girls are completely turning the bus upside down with their shenanigans, like they have an endless reserve of energy. Well, most of them, anyways.

Sitting at the far back of the bus, Hyeju watches them silently. Per usual, Hyeju isn’t one to participate in the chaos as much as the others, but there’s another reason for this.

See, after the incident with you, it took Hyeju a long time to earn back the trust of the girls again, some longer than others. Thankfully the members gave Hyeju another chance, but things were never quite the same.

Like how cracks can still be seen on a fixed object.

Her mistake has left scars. Some deeper than others.

She then takes a glance at Heejin who is also not partaking in the chaos, but just looking outside the window with a blank stare. Heejin never really did forgive Hyeju. She only held in the anger inside of her for the sake of the others, but with observant eyes, it wasn’t hard to recognize Heejin was avoiding Hyeju.

And honestly, despite how hurtful it is, Hyeju can’t bring herself to be angry at Heejin for that.

You and Heejin were basically glued together.

She introduced you to the girls.

She was the one that was with you through thick and thin.

But in the end, she had to give up on him for Hyeju’s sake.

What did Hyeju do?

She betrayed you.

The reason why you decided to move abroad while cutting off any form of contact.

It’s been 3 years since then.

Hyeju sighs to herself, looking outside to the moving scenery. Three grueling years without you by her side, they say that you never know what you truly had until you lost it, Hyeju understands it fully, now that she lost you.

She never quite realized just how involved you were in her life, until you left. The apartment was never quite the same without you, without your warm touch, it lost its homely atmosphere, now it’s just a cold, empty room. Meals weren’t the same without your soft voice, humming and listening to each of her daily rants, the bed felt cold without your hug, pulling her in and reassuring her that you were always with her.

Why did she do it? Why did she betray you? Even after 3 years, that question still lingers in her mind, as a reminder of her own mistake. She simply took you for granted. After the first time, you were gracious enough to give her your full trust again. And she… She thought that she could get away with it as well. How could some instant gratification be compared with stability?

She was wrong, so, so wrong. She was wrong to even entertain that thought, to even meet up with that man, to be seduced by his mere words.

And that made her lose the dearest thing that she had.

You.

-----

Well, here you are.

Standing in front of the venue, instead of all the excitement that you should be feeling, all you can feel is impending doom or anxiety in short. You start to question yourself repeatedly, “is this a mistake? Should you turn back? Why are you even here-”

“Dude! Less thinking and more walking!” You feel a hand striking your back, nearly making you stumble onto the ground. You glare to the side at your friend, who is smirking at you.

“You’ll thank me for this one day, now let’s get going.” He pulls you to stand straight again, before pushing you into the venue.

“Here goes nothing, I guess.” You mumble, mostly to yourself to brace for what is to come. “See? You’re already speaking in Korean! I know you’re excited, you don’t have to hide it from me~”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” You let out a sigh, starting to walk into the venue on your own without your friend pushing you. “Let’s head in, or else we might be stuck outside for a while.”

“I heard you, let’s go!” Your friend’s energy seems to remind you of a certain bunny, causing you to chuckle slightly.

The walk inside the venue is generally uneventful, if you ignore all the crazed fans with the merch gossiping among each other. As you do your best to ignore them, because everywhere you look, you see their damn faces.

On the shirts, printed on handheld fans, posters.

God, what in the actual fuck.

You thought you could handle this, seeing them again, but just the sight of them, of her, on the poster, already makes you feel sick to your stomach. Three years, three long years, and you are still haunted by the memories of that day. Three years without seeing them, three years of you, changing yourself in order to not be weak anymore. Yet just a picture of them, and the wall you’ve built so meticulously has already started to crumble slightly.

“Dude, you alright?” Your friend doesn’t miss the faint pained expression on your face.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m ok, my stomach is just a bit hurt, that’s all.” You harden your resolve once again before reassuring your friend with a slight smile. Your friend says nothing of the matter, but you feel his gaze on you as you both move to your seats on the inside of the stadium.

In an attempt to distract yourself from the fans and pictures, your eyes dart around other places, trying to find a safe haven where you don’t have to look at all the fans and pictures of the girls. You eventually find it, but you don’t know if it’s really a ‘safe haven’.

You spot a figure looking like a man, his black hoodies and jeans a stark contrast from the crowd. Given that you are also dark colored clothes, you can’t say anything about the man. But there’s just something about him, something that you can’t put your hands on, for some reason, he feels familiar.

“Dude, why are you staring at a stranger?” Your friend elbows you in the chest.

“… Nothing.” You disregard your uneasiness to get back to the matter on hand. “I just accidentally look at that direction.” Trying to play it off and walk off with your friend to find your place to watch.

“Pfft, yeah right.” Without looking, you can feel his eyes roll at you. “Let’s head inside before someone call the police on you for being a creep.” Silently, you take one last glance at the man in hoodie, before joining your friend at the seating area of the venue.

“This… Feels weird.” Mumbling to yourself, you look around the place. Now that you think about it, you rarely ever watch their performances from the audience’s point of view. Being a close friend to a certain bunny, and later, boyfriend of a certain wolf, you spend most of the time backstage with them, watching them either on the TV in the waiting room, or directly behind the backstage.

You never had the chance to watch from the audience due to your relationship with the girls, you were important to the members. A big brother, a drinking buddy, a listener, a friend, best friend even, and then boyfriend to her. They couldn’t let you stay in the audience during their performances.

Somewhere deep inside of you, you missed those days, days you spent with the girls, taking care of them and having fun with them, to be with the one you love, no, loved.

You find it hard for yourself to forgive her, you already did that once, after all. All the love and energy spent on her, to be reciprocated with betrayal. Not only once but twice. Who does that kind of thing? Who betrayed the trust of someone who loved them very dearly that easily?

The more these thoughts resurface, the more your heart ached. Not for her, but for the relationship that you lost because of her. How could you stay with the girls, now that your relationship with one of them is strained? They know her longer than they know you, so whose side are they going to take?

While you fall back into your deepest thoughts, you fail to recognize the venue’s light dimming, as screams begin to echo out from the fans. Only when you hear their voices do you awaken from your thoughts, to be greeted by the girls standing on stage, already performing the first song with the fans chanting along with the music.

You turn to the side, to also see your friend excitedly chanting along with his broken Korean, much to your amusement.

As for you, you were never one to like the crowd, so you just stayed seated, watching the performance with mixed feelings in your heart.

Your eyes soon glued onto her.

Your ex, the one you loved so much, but also the one who broke your heart into pieces. She seems to be doing ok, you thought. Her stage presence is much better than before, and so is her confidence. Despite projecting a cold image, she has always been somewhat timid behind the curtains. It took you many hours of encouragement and pep talks to give her the confidence boost she needed, and to see her like this… You can’t help but be proud, just a little bit.

Before your mind can start treading into forbidden memories, you turn to another person.

Your “Bunny”.

Well, you don’t think you have any right to call her that anymore, after all, it was you who cut her off when you moved overseas. Admittedly, it wasn’t right for you to just cut her off like that, when you and she have shared so many things together, the both of you going way, way back. But in your emotional state, you couldn’t bear to see or hear anything that would be remotely related to your ex. And so, in a fit of rage and depression, you changed your number, cutting off every relationship that you had in Korea, except for your family.

As the concert goes on, you barely pay any attention to the performance itself, too busy drowning yourself in your thoughts as you drift back and forth, in and out of your head, between happiness from seeing the girls again, to sadness that you’re seeing your ex again, to depression and guilt of you cutting them off from your life.

Before you even know it, the concert is nearing its end, with the girls doing the encore song while having fun on stage.

I don't need nobody to move my body

All me with no strings attached

I don't wanna be somebody who

Lets somebody hold me if they hold me back

I just wanna dance, dance

Dance on my own (dance on my own)

You can’t tell if there is a hidden message to this song or something, but you feel like this song just hit a little bit too close to home. Maybe that’s why you’ve been looping it a lot these days. And it’s hitting you hard right now, seeing that your ex is one of the people singing it on stage as well.

How ironic is that?

When she was the one that betrayed you and now singing that she can be by herself? You tighten your fists as tears start to gather in your eyes as rage and sadness begin to cloud your mind. How can she sing that so-

No.

Before you can go any further, you mentally restrain yourself. As expected, you’re losing control over your emotions because you can see the worried look on your friend’s face as he glances over to check up on you.

“Bathroom.” You manage to utter one word before standing up and leaving your seat, and your friend behind.

“Fuck.” You swear to yourself once you enter the bathroom. Making your way to the sink, you splash your face with water in some false hope of cooling down your mind. “Get it together.” You look at your drenched face in the mirror.

“It’s almost done, just a little bit more.” You talk to yourself in the mirror, like some madman who’s off his meds. Luckily, no one is here to judge your weird behaviour.

After a few more minutes of talking to yourself, you gather enough courage to return to your seat. But right as you leave the bathroom, you see the man in black hoodie from earlier walking by.

Now, as any normal person would do, you are going to return to the seating area to calm down an undoubtedly very worried friend. But once again, your gut feeling is telling you that this guy is bad news. And your gut feelings are usually never wrong. After all, it was your gut feeling that made you suspicious of cheating in the first place.

So, you decide to trail behind the guy, lighten your steps in order not to make any sounds. The man just keeps walking forward, his steps heavy and hurried. He’s walking with a purpose, there was a destination in mind, and you can’t help but keep following him, all the way to the backstage area.

Seeing how the guy knows how to avoid security, your suspicions are confirmed by now, but for safe measure, you kept your distance from him.

Then you heard noises, more specifically, chatter and laughter. You can recognize their voices everywhere, even if you aren’t up to date with them anymore.

Oh no.

The man starts to pick up the pace after he hears the voice heading towards a fork in the hallway, prompting you to do the same. You see him pull something out from his hoodie’s pocket. You can’t see what it is, but it’s shiny, you start sprinting after the man now.

You’re catching up to him. But he’s also getting very close to the girls, their laughter can be heard closer and closer.

Faster.

Now’s the time that you put all the efforts you made in the gym to good use. With a short burst, you catch up to the guy, and promptly crash your shoulder into him, pushing him into the wall in front of the girls just as they arrive, earning screams and yells from them. But you can’t hear them.

With the collision, the both of you fall onto the ground, the object the man was carrying seconds before fall off his hand, landing on the ground. A pocketknife.

The man glares back at you, his hood already fallen, yelling “You motherfucker!” in fluent Korean, stunning you for a brief second.

Because, you know this man.

He was the one that Hyeju cheated on with.

That brief stun period is enough for him to land a kick in your face, before scrambling for the knife. Thankfully, the pain is enough to wake your senses up, leading you to get on your knees and lunge for the man, using your entire body weight to land onto him, before your arms quickly find their way around his neck, tightening the chokehold you have on him while he struggles to break free by bashing his elbows against your ribs.

You grind your teeth and tighten the hold even further, ensuring the man has no way to escape, before you feel him going limp on your arms, and you being pulled out someone, presumably the security.

Looking at the unconscious guy, you smile faintly to yourself, maybe those Jiujitsu classes weren’t that useless after all.

Everything immediately afterwards is somewhat of a blur to you, not to mention the adrenaline subsiding and the pain kicking in. The fact that you encounter not one, but the two people responsible for betraying your trust back then and in such a situation as well.

From what you can deduce, Hyeju probably cut contact with him out of guilt, and him being constantly denied contact probably drove him crazy. Looking at the unconscious guy again, you can’t help but let out a sigh. What can you say?

Karma’s a bitch.

Although you feel a tinge of relief learning that small piece of knowledge, you still don’t particularly feel like you are in the mood to answer some questions from the security.

But you are cautious enough not to stand near the girls though, in case they recognize you because they sure did recognize the other man, as evident by Hyeju’s trembling. As happy as you are to see the girls up close again, you don’t think your heart can take any more than this, so, you take what you can get.

After a brief question, you start to head back to the seating area, your head thinking of what excuse to use for your worried friend. Before you leave though, you hear the voice of the girls calling for you, and as much as you want to just ignore them, that would be too rude of you.

“Thank you so much for helping us, mister.” Haseul speaks up for the girls.

“It’s nothing, I just did what anyone else would do.” You smile lightly.

“But your glasses were broken because of it, was it not?” Indeed, your glasses were broken, but you don’t really need glasses to function day to day and you just want to get out of here as fast as possible.

“I can still see fine, so don’t worry Miss. Instead, I think you should focus on comforting your friend over there, she seems quite shaken, no?” Your attempt to divert the conversation is a success as all the girls turn to the shaken Hyeju, talking amongst themselves before heading back, not forgetting to give you a small bow when they leave.

Except for one person though.

“Oppa.”

Shit, of course it’s Heejin. That girl has always been observant when it comes to you. But that isn’t enough for you to give up.

Keeping up with the façade of not knowing Korean, you pretend to not hear it and just keep walking. You can hear her calling you “oppa” repeatedly again. But you aren’t going to stop. The moment you cut her off, you stop being best friends. Not anymore.

“Pooh, is that you?”

Pooh.

Such a stupid name.

Yet, you stop dead in your track at the mention of that name, no one has ever called you by that in years. It was from way back in their childhood. Something your parents lovingly call you due to your chubby figure back then. Something that Heejin also called you, joyful of having another ‘victim’ being called by a nickname, after gaining the ‘Bunny’ nickname from her parents. At least, all the way up to when you started dating Hyeju, at least.

That name should have stayed buried in the past. Why did she- No, the question here should be, how did she figure you out?

“You look surprised.” Standing frozen in the spot, you can see Heejin walks into your view from behind, smiling lightly. “Did you really think that, by growing out your hair and beard, and bulking up, that I would not recognize you?”

Her eyes look up to yours, and you can see the anger, the disappointment in her eyes, but also relief and genuine joy upon seeing her best friend again. “Was our friendship really that shallow to you, Pooh?”

Guiltily, you can’t bring yourself to face her directly, your eyes diverting from her face. You’d rather look at anything else than to see her right now, if not you feel like the wall that you’ve spent years building might not collapse on the spot.

“You don’t have to say anything.” She whispers. You can see streams of tears rolling down her cheek. Your heart hurt more at the notion of Heejin crying, especially because of you. “I’m glad that I got to see you again, even if it was for a moment.” You feel her hand resting on your cheek, gently caressing it with her thumb going along the grooves of your beard.

“My goodness, you’ve really changed, haven’t you.” A small chuckle. “Goodbye, Pooh.” As you feel your palm leaving your face, you can hear the crumbling of the walls surrounding your heart. Years of steeling yourself, but all it took was just a moment with Heejin to bring it down.

“Wait.” You utter, your hand grasping onto hers to prevent her from leaving. Before she can react, you pull her into a tight hug, whispering to her. “I’m sorry, Bunny. I’m sorry.”

Taken back by your action, Heejin seems to be silent.

One second passed by.

Two seconds.

And then you can feel her body trembling as her arms try their best to hug around your huge frame, her face buried into your shoulder as she lets out choked sobs.

“How could you leave us like that? Leave me like that?” She cries into your shoulder. “Was our time together not even worth it for you?” Her grip on you turns tighter. “How could you…”

Her words are like a knife piercing your heart, you know you’ve done something wrong to her and the others. So, all you can do is try to compensate for it. There’s no turning back now, Heejin would not let you leave if you don’t leave her your phone number, and the girls are going to know about this sooner or later.

The girls… Are you ready to face Hyeju again? After all this time?

You forcefully stop yourself from thinking further. That can be dealt with later. You have a crying bunny to appease.

-----

As expected, after a good 10 minutes of crying, Heejin gave you 2 options: either give her your number, or you follow her back to her hotel. Without any real options, you reluctantly give her your number, only then was she satisfied enough to let you leave.

After that, you had to deal with the situation that was your worried friend. Thankfully, he bought your excuse of being stuck in toilet due to constipation and the both of you part way after chatting for a bit.

Which brings you to right now: lying flat on your couch, physically and emotionally exhausted from the chaotic evening. You just want to take a long, long sleep now.

Before you can even drift off to sleep, your phone begins to ring nonstop. Looks like the night isn’t over yet.

“Hello?” You pick up the phone.

“You still awake?” You can hear Heejin’s voice from the other side.

“Yeah, thanks to a certain someone calling me.”

“Hehe~ Anyways, I’m only in the city for tomorrow before heading to our next destination, can we meet?” Despite performing for around 4 hours straight, you can still feel the energy in her voice. Unconsciously, you start to smile as well, infectious of her energy. Just like old times.

“Lucky for you, I have tomorrow off, so let me sleep for now and maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.” Despite losing contact for so long, the two of you still converse like nothing ever happened. Like you were never apart. Joking and teasing like the old times.

“You better show up, you hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it. Go get some sleep Bunny, it’s been a long evening.”

“Mhmm, see you tomorrow, Pooh.” Again, with the nickname. You feel like you’ve already outgrown it. Even your parents don’t call you that name anymore, but Heejin keeps on using it, and you don’t know why.

“Goodnight.” Deciding that it’s been long enough, you hang up first, and without even moving to the bedroom, just lay on the couch until sleep takes you.

-----

“Ah, wait!” Heejin pouts, looking at her phone. “This guy, still hanging up like that, maybe he didn’t grow that much after all.” Even while complaining, Heejin still has a smile plastered on her face.

When you left them 3 years ago, cutting off all contact, she was devastated. In one night, she lost her best friend of 20+ years, and her crush. It was with the joint effort from the rest of Loona that she is still willing to co-exist with Hyeju.

Even as groupmates, she can never forgive Hyeju for what she has done to you. Who would she side with: a groupmate of a few years, or a best friend of 20+ years? Being an idol might be her dream work, but she would never abandon you.

Ever.

And now, after years of sulking and wallowing in depression, she’s met you again with a stroke of luck. Though she can tell that you have changed a lot throughout the years, something just can’t be changed. Like how you were willing to hurt yourself to save others. Heck, you just saved the girls this evening after all.

It’s regretful that she can’t stay here for long, but now having a way to contact with you again, she will make sure to make full use of it-

“Unnie?” She turns to the open door, being caught off guard while thinking to herself. She sees Hyeju standing just outside the door. “What do you need?” Despite her best effort, Heejin’s voice still comes off as quite cold, which is understandable.

“Just now, you were talking with oppa, weren’t you?” she asks with a bit of trembling in her voice. “And it was him who saved us this evening?”

Heejin scoffs, not wanting to let Hyeju figure anything out. “Just a friend, not him.”

“But you only called one person ‘Pooh’.

Heejin’s eyes widened at that. “How much did you listen?” Hyeju turns timid at her glare. “The- the whole thing…”

Heejin faces palms herself. “And what do you want?” She isn’t trying to hide the venom in her voice anymore. “You betrayed him, twice at that. What more do you possibly want to do to him?”

Gathering her courage, Hyeju looks back at Heejin defiantly. “I want to…”

A/N 2: teehee, here’s your 5k words xD

#loona #artms #comission #male reader #son hyeju #olivia hye #jeon heejin #heejin #kpop fanfic

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vodika-vibes · 2 months

Note

Can you write a Crosshair x reader and him with his shaky hands like we saw in season 3 and maybe reader comforting him...

For The Love Of A Bounty Hunter

Summary: Crosshair goes missing while dealing with your family. You have opinions about it.

Pairing: TBB Crosshair x F!Bounty Hunter Reader

Word Count: 1919

Warnings: Mentions of torture

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: I decided to make this story a sequel to one of my Event Fics, I'll add the link so people can find it easily. Also, there are no spoilers here, because I haven't watched TBB at all. ^-^

For The Love Of A Sniper - Part 1 of this Mini Series

You stare, blankly, at the calendar on the datapad in front of you as you draw another red X over another day.

Three weeks.

It’s been three weeks since Crosshair went to deal with the PI who was looking into you on behalf of your family. Three weeks since he vanished.

You carefully set the datapad down on the table and release a shaky breath. Carefully shoving the burning rage down, for now.

Crosshair would sooner cut his own hands off than betray you. You know this. You know him. He would never tell your parents where you are. And, the fact that they haven’t shown up at your ship, is proof enough that Crosshair didn’t tell them anything.

The bigger question is, is Crosshair still alive.

Stars, you hope so. You’re not sure the galaxy will survive your rage if he isn’t. You’re not sure you’ll survive your rage if he isn’t.

You jerked out of your thoughts when your holo chimes.

For a moment you consider ignoring it, you’re not in the mood for chatting. But, in the end, you cross the room and hit the button to answer the holo, “I’m not accepting any jobs at the moment.” You say bluntly.

“It is me.” Tech’s image flickers to life above the holo, “I have the information you asked for.”

You blink, “Oh. Sorry.”

“No harm done, I know that you are stressed.” He looks down at his datapad, “I am sending you the information I have.”

You pick your datapad back up as it chimes with the information he sent you. “Are you sure this is accurate?” You ask, as you see the information, “Last I heard the people who took him are wealthy.”

Tech sniffs, “Very sure. According to what I have found, they used to be wealthy. But then spent most of their fortune looking for their missing child.” He pauses, “That would be you, I am guessing.”

“Right in one, Tech.” You reply with a grimace.

“I am sure you had your reasons.” Tech says after a moment, “If Crosshair is anywhere, it is there.”

You scan the image that Tech sent you. Figures, it would be your childhood house. Not home. Never home. “Thanks Tech.”

“You are welcome.” He pauses, “Are you quite sure that you do not require aid? We can be there in a couple of days.”

“I have it.”

“They are your family.”

“Not all families are created equal, Tech. And this,” You hold up the datapad, "has been a long time coming.”

Tech sighs, “Comm when you have him back. And if you should think that you need our help-”

“I’ll be sure to let you know. Thanks for the intel, Tech. I mean it.”

“You do not have to thank me. Crosshair is my twin brother. I want him safe just as much as you do.”

“Even so. I know you’re not my biggest fan.”

Tech is quiet for a moment, “I will concede that, perhaps, I was too quick to judge.”

“Yeah, well…so was I. Water under the bridge.”

Tech smiles at you, a small smile, but a smile all the same, “I think I am beginning to see what Crosshair sees in you. Happy hunting.”

You flash a small smirk, “Yeah. Right back at you.” And then you kill the holo. You look back at the datapad, and swipe through the information.

“Hold on, Cross. I’ll be there soon.” You whisper to the empty ship.

“It’s a simple thing,” Crosshair rolls his eyes at the massive Devaronian looming over him, “All you have to do is tell us where the little mistress is.”

“I told you the truth weeks ago,” He drawls, “I can’t help you.” He grunts in pain as a large fist slams into his stomach, “Kriff-”

“Mistress,” The guard says with a frown, “I’m beginning to think that he’s telling the truth.”

‘Mistress’ is a slender woman with white blonde hair and piercing green eyes. Though slender isn’t really the right word. Crosshair would personally call her skeletal, but the first time he asked how they managed to make a corpse walk and talk, he was electrocuted, so he’s learned to hold his tongue.

“He has to know,” The woman’s voice is cold. “Why else would he have gone to the PI?”

“Because you’re offering a hell of a lot of credits, lady.” Crosshair lies.

“You do not speak to the Mistress,” The guard snaps, taking a menacing step towards Crosshair.

“No. Leave him. I tire of this.” The woman says, before she turns to the side, “What do you think, darling.”

‘Darling’ is her husband. Just as thin and skeletal as his white, though his hair is more of a golden blonde than the silvery blonde of his wife. If Crosshair had to guess, one of them bleaches their hair, though which one isn’t something he cares about.

He’s also crueler than his wife.

Crosshair will likely have scars from the stun batons that ‘Darling’ used against him. If he hates ‘Mistress’, then Crosshair absolutely despises ‘Darling’. How either of these people could parent someone like his Princess is beyond him. Maybe she’s adopted.

He glances to the side when the door to the dungeons slams open and a trembling twi’lek hurries his, “Master! Mistress!” He gasps, “The Little Mistress is here.”

The room falls silent, “Are you quite sure?” The Mistress asks.

“Yes ma’am,” The Twi’lek bobs into a bow, “She consented to a DNA scan. It’s her. Would you like me to bring her down?”

“No, we’ll-”

The door slams open again, “No need. I thought I’d come and say hello.”

Crosshair has always thought that his Princess is stunning, but seeing her standing in the doorway, clad in tight leather, and with her short hair falling into her eyes…she looks like an avenging angel and he’s never been more attracted to her in his life.

Impressive, since he can hardly keep his hands to himself as it is.

“Sweetheart!” The Mistress takes half a step towards her, “Your hair…your face! Why are you so fat?”

Princess closes her eyes for a moment, and then she turns and blatantly ignores everyone in the room, “Are you okay?” Her voice is soft, and for a moment, Crosshair can pretend that they’re on the ship and it’s just them.

He slides his arms through the bars of the cell, and holds out his trembling hands, “Better, since you’re here.”

Her sharp eyes linger on his trembling hands, on the burn marks on his arms, chest, and stomach. Her gaze lingers on the bruises covering his face and his torso.

And her eyes go cold.

“Sweetling, why are you talking to that-” His Princess’ father says as he takes a step towards her, reaching out to touch her.

There’s a flash of silver, only noticed because he was looking for it, and then there’s screaming as ‘Darling’ falls back, clutching his blood soaked arm. His Princess carefully uses a cloth to wipe the blood off the blade.

“You took Crosshair.” Her voice is flat, emotionless.

She’s clearly pissed.

“You know,” She continues, some emotion returning to her voice, and she directs her comment towards him, “I really only considered two options when coming here.”

“Oh yeah?” Cross asks as he leans against the bars.

“Hm. Option 1, they took you and killed you.” She continues lightly, “And if that was the case I was going to kill them all, burn this place to the ground, and then throw myself at the Empire until they managed to kill me.”

“Dramatic.”

She shrugs a single shoulder, “Option 2, is that they took you and were using you as bait to make me come here. In this scenario, you were uninjured, just annoyed, and I just threatened great bodily harm and we carried on our way.”

She casts her gaze over him again, “Somehow,” She continues, “The idea that they might torture you never crossed my mind.”

“They are still your family, Princess. I’m not gonna blame you for not wanting to believe the worst of them.” Crosshair says lazily.

She turns to the cell door and effortlessly picks the lock and swings the door open, “Well, you’re the injured party, Cross. What do you want?”

“You have a blaster?”

She smiles and wordlessly passes it to him.

Even with nerve damage, and trembling hands, he’s still the best.

Three shots. Three blaster rounds.

Three dead bodies.

His Princess takes the blaster back and slides it in her holster, before she helps him with a shirt she brought him, “Are you ready to go?” She asks.

“More than ready.” He leans against her, needing her support to make it back to the ship, “Let’s get out of here.”

A week later, you step into the bedroom on your ship, your gaze lingering on Crosshair. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, glaring at his shaking hands. Nerve damage takes weeks to heal, even with bacta.

His hands will be shaking for a while.

Maybe you’ll take Tech up on that offer for a 3 month long vacation on Pabu.

But first-

You enter the room and kneel in front of him, taking both of his hands in yours and pressing light kisses against the palms of his hands. “Do they hurt?” You ask.

“It’s mostly just an ache,” He admits, bitterly, “I’m not going to be able to-”

“Shh,” You release one of his hands and reach up to cup his cheek, “Crosshair, your only responsibility right now is to heal.”

He scowls at you, though you know he’s more annoyed at the situation than at you. “I feel useless.”

“Nonsense. You could never be useless.”

“You’re biased.”

“Mm, perhaps. A little.” You stand and settle on the bed next to him, “But I’m also honest. You will heal. You will get back to 100%. It just takes time.”

He scoffs.

“Don’t be like that.” You say as you lay your head on his shoulder, “After that Wookie broke my leg in three places, you didn’t accuse me of being a burden or of being useless, even though I felt like I was.”

Crosshair shakes his head, and then leans his head against yours, “You gonna use my words against me?”

“If I have to.”

He huffs out a laugh, “I suppose you did pay for the best doctors to see me.”

“Yes, I did.” You reply smugly.

“Alright.” He turns to look at you properly, “I’ll be patient.”

“You’re a sniper, patience is your thing.” You tease him, throwing his words back at him.

His arms, strong and steady, hook around you and he pulls you onto his lap, “Yeah, yeah.” Crosshair leans in and kisses you hungrily, nipping at your lower lip roughly enough that you squeak, “So. You gonna tell me what you and Tech have been talking about?”

“...he’s invited us to come to Pabu until you finish recovery. I’m thinking that agreeing might be a good idea.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and then he sighs, “If you think it’s a good idea, Princess, then I won’t argue. But I refuse to stay with my siblings.”

“Of course not, we’ll be staying here or in an inn.” You brush your fingers across his cheek, “I’ll go let him know.”

Crosshair tightens his grip around you, “You can tell him later. I want you for myself right now.”

You beam at him, “I think that sounds like a great idea.”

#star wars #tbb #tbb crosshair x reader #crosshair x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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meraki-yao · 6 months

Text

RWRB: A list of thoughts on the Campfire Scene

Ok I went to sleep for another hour to calm myself down and now I can form coherent thoughts about the scene and not just scream and squeal

It's a three-minute scene with two shots. The first shot is a little over two minutes

When Alex asks his question, Henry, who was looking into the fire, tilts his head towards Alex as if to listen better. After Alex finishes, Henry looks up towards the sky, like he's wondering how to answer

Alex doesn't really react to Henry's "Once upon a time" even though he's not directly answering Alex's question. He just listens, and that's such a beautiful thing

Nick deserves a round of applause for this scene, his monologue was two minutes long, and monologues are really hard to perform because it's just you who keeps talking, you don't really get to react to other things or people, it's just you, so Nick is a fantastic job

Nick's delivery and tone, and the way he sometimes ends a sentence a bit like a question (ex: "acutely") makes it sound like Henry's been thinking about this story/ metaphor for a while but this is the first time he ever verbalizes it, so while he knows what he wants to talk about thus he doesn't need to pause a lot to think of the story, he does occasionally need to think of the next word or line because again, he never actually said any of this out loud before, and Nick does that so well

@pippin-katz pointed out that Nick misspoke and said "sent the suit a prince of armour" which is hilarious, and while because movie, this shouldn't happen, realistically we all have moments where we mix words up so it almost feels more... authentic? Also, I didn't pick it up but now that Pippin mentioned it I'm really aware of it lmao

Also Henry/Nick's voice here is so soothing? I can almost imagine him telling bedtime stories to his and Alex's kids like this in the future. I wonder if Henry would write children's books because it feels like it'd be something he do and something he could write really well, if this clip is anything to go by. Plus I stumbled across an audio of Nick reading "The Emperor's New Clothes" before (I literally have no context of why he was reading that and it was literally just audio, not sure if I can find it anymore) and it was so soothing and calming that I fell asleep to it one night. Besides the full-cast RWRB audiobook that I'm practically demanding at this point, I wonder if he would be interested in doing more audiobook/narration stuff. He's really got the voice for it

The King sending a suit of armour to protect the prince's heart kind of further proves my point of the King being a much more loving grandparent to Henry than the queen in the book, and him worrying more about Henry himself than the image of the crown. He noticed that 1, Henry is an emotionally sensitive person, 2, Henry is gay, and both of those things could be turned against him easily, and he will get hurt. He does love Henry, just not in a way that's good for Henry. If we get a sequel I do hope we can see them reconcile in one way or another. It'd be a nice example for people in the same positions.

The "Nothing will ever happen to him" line!!!! I wrote a whole essay about Kensington and this line because somehow this line was one of the most powerful ones to me, but to know that it was originally Henry's word just adds another level of pain to the Kensington scene

You can see Henry's face light up when he starts talking about the peasant boy. And Alex's quick eyebrow raise and deep chuckle. It's so beautiful, I wanna cry

We talk about Alex's heart eyes, which, yes, but Henry's look of pure adoration and love at Alex when he says "Truly Alive" makes me want to melt

I yelled a little at Alex when he started to lay back down (as in I verbally shouted "DAMMIT ALEX LOOK AT YOUR MAN") because I felt like if Alex saw Henry's face in the following lines he'd figure out Henry has issues earlier? But then I saw a take saying the shot was framed like theatre where Henry's both centre stage and in the spotlight so the focus is on him, so Alex was designed to lay back down on the timber bench to make the entire space for Henry

Henry's look of sad longing when he talks about the peasant boy pulling apart his armor is heartbreaking

I wonder if this was originally planned to be the changing point from Alex's POV to Henry's POV? Because in that case I do think the lake scene worked better as a changing point

I also wonder how did Henry end the story in his head up to this point? Because as hopefully as the last line is, at this point in the story, Henry still doesn't believe he can keep this

I get why scenes are cut because when you're putting together a movie, there are a lot of things you don't see for individual scenes until you put them together. This is why as much as I want the cast and crew to get the premiere they deserve to have, I don't really want an extended cut of the movie, because things were cut for a good reason

That being said, if the cornetto scene and this scene proved anything, is that the scenes themselves are fascinating, and I WANT THEM ALL

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #rwrb movie #firstprince #nicholas galitzine #taylor zakhar perez #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #henry hanover stuart fox #rwrb thoughts #rwrb deleted scene #my rwrb list

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itshype · 1 year

Text

My DC x DP Masterpost

Here is my masterpost of works that fall into the category of a crossover of DC comics and Danny Phantom. Mostly, these will be notfics. If any of the links are broken please message me ASAP. Edit: I will not be doing taglists because people are quite frankly abusing the idea.

What's a notfic?

So, this was really common in fandom like 10 years ago but it's less common now so I'm just including this quick explanation in case. Notfic/Not!Fic is the halfway point between an actual fic and a prompt. It mostly sort of has the tone of describing another fic to somebody, or working out an ongoing plot with a friend (e.g. Instead of writing out an entire set of dialogue, a notfic might just put "Jason and Tim discuss why they both want to fake their deaths").

Permissions Housekeeping

I totally don't mind if anyone wants to take all or part of what I've written for any prompt and write an actual fic or create another transformative work as long as I'm appropriately credited. If you're just taking the most oblique inspiration from something I've made I'd appreciate at least a tag so I can read it!

Also if you'd like to tag me in any of your works please do, provided that it's the first if it's in a series and not Jazz/Jason as the main pairing, please.

Works

Kingmaker, Kingbreaker, Crowntaker, Realmshaker

Danny isn't the Ghost King but after defeating Pariah Dark the new king knows Danny has massive political influence.

Navigate any storm, with nothing but the stars to guide you

Danny is obsessed with space so the whole 'superhero' thing is on the backburner.

Please don’t pet me! I am working!

Repeat after me, SERVICE ANIMAL CUJO. (Minor Connor Kent/Danny Fenton)

It's a boy, congratulations... to me!

Danny insists Connor is his clone even though he's really not.

Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss, Godhood

Danny gets caught and tells the JLA that neither he nor Vlad are ghosts.

New type of Vlad just dropped

When a ghost's obsession is destroyed, they get a new one.

Mother of the Year

Talia Al Ghul gets to be a good mother. As a treat.

Amorpho Whomst?

Danny, Dani and Dan trade off on responsibilities.

Halfa? Half a What?

Danny's half human, no one's sure what the other half is.

The second, secret Justice League

There's another Justice League that not even the Justice League is cleared to know about.

Excuse me, do you work here? Danny is sent to represent the first, non-secret Justice League.

Triple Threat

The Champion of All Magic and The King of All Ghosts have a mutual triplet.

Like peas in a pod [person]

Jason is healed of the pit rage but has a whole new problem.

There's a Mr Wight Hood to see you?

Jason adopts Danny instead of being the Red Hood.

The Wight Baby For The Job Sequel to Mr Wight Hood

You Make Miso Scared

Danny's always talking about soup time.

Reverse Bruce

Give baby Jason MORE PARENTS!

Work Experience

Danny has to learn about Ghost culture before he can rule it.

Mansplain Yourself

Constantine probably knows best about ghosts over the Justice League's newest member...

The Opposite of a Golden Ticket

International star Ember McLain is in danger

Haustoria Horror

Undergrowth's got Poison Ivy

Like and Survive!

Danny runs an advice website for young heroes

You're not the Boss of me!

Batman accidentally outs his family to Danny

This is a PSA

Danny's Wail affects the JLA

Floral Fiasco

Poison Ivy errs

How I Met Your Brother

Dan joins the JLA

The Manhunter's Manhunt

There's a miscommunication with the Martian Manhunter

The Green Knight

Jason lives (just this once)

___

The Job

Danny's gotta put food on the table (Also available in DP only version)

Always A King (DC x DP)

The Realms must have a king

Series: The Surprise Obsessions of the Ghostly Batclan (image heavy)

Ghost Bruce HC

Ghost Jason HC

Mini prompts

Danny Phantom vs The IRS ; part 2

Phantom's mistaken identity

Billy and Danny are secret twins

Danny scars the batfam

Superheroes need more therapy

All-caste Jason

Poison Control

#masterpost #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #danny fenton #justice league #mine #batman #tucker foley #the JLA #teen titans #titans #vlad masters #vlad plasmius #sam manson #valerie gray #jazz fenton

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greatqueenanna · 5 months

Text

Frozen 3 - What We Know So Far - 2023

(NOTE: Image above is not concept art for F3. It is from F2.)

I wanted to do an overview post of everything we've learned this year about F3. I want to keep track of all news related to this project so that we can avoid misunderstandings and fan theories overrunning the films' development, like with what happened with F1 and F2.

To note, from now on I'm pretty much combining F3 and F4 (or F3 part 2) as a single project until we learn more about them. They are pretty much confirmed to be the same story anyway, so it makes sense to just put them together. Thus, if you want to know about F4 on my blog, it will be under the #frozen 3 news tag that I feature on my page.

I want to give shout outs to @ericmicael, @frozen-snowflakesandsunflowers, @frozensnetwork, and @bigfrozenfan for actually being the ones to provide some the sources below. I don't want to take all the credit for finding this info.

If any more info drops in December, or I discover more news released in 2023 in general, I will update this post.

Overview of What We Know

The idea of Frozen 3 came from Marc Smith, the Story Director of Frozen 2, and the story is so large that it will be separated into two films. There is no official release date, or info regarding how the two films will be released.

Jennifer Lee is overseeing the project and keeping up with it, but is not writing or directing as of 2023. This may change later on, however as of now, Lee is not behind the creative process.

It is currently unknown if Chris Buck will return as director, and there is no news on who is directing or writing the films, other than Marc Smith coming up with the initial idea.

Idina Menzel and Josh Gad have officially announced their involvement. However, Kristen Bell and Jonathan Groff have not officially announced their returns. It is sort of obvious that they will return, especially with Bell saying that they are all ready to return, but just wanted to establish that they have not publicly stated this yet since the announcement. As for other cast members, no one has stated yet that they will return as of 2023.

Kristen Anderson-Lopez and Bobby Lopez are returning to write the songs, and have also confirmed that the story will be two films.

Jennifer Lee continued to push that no other entry other than the main films are canon to the newest project. Thus, the Frozen Podcast that was announced alongside F3 and misrepresented as a lead up to F3, is not considered canon.

There is very little known about the story, however, it may be about Elsa and Anna being very busy in their new roles. There is also some hints about Elsa's powers possibly growing.

More detailed news with sources below the read more.

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As a quick shout out, in the year 2022, Kristen Bell had actually hinted at Frozen 3. At the time, this was considered a joke since Kristen Bell loves to push for more Frozen sequels (and honestly, it probably still is a very coincidental joke haha), however now that we know that F3 was possibly in development at this time, this may of been the first official hint at F3 that we ever received.

youtube

"I would like to officially announce, with zero authority, Frozen 3. I know Idina recently said she would do it. And I feel like if we're all in, what are we waiting for?" -- Kristen Bell, Voice of Anna

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The first bit of information we received about F3 in 2023 was the announcement itself. In early February, Frozen 3 was announced to be in development along side Toy Story 5 and Zootopia 2.

“Today I’m so pleased to announce that we have sequels in the works from our animation studios to some of our most popular franchises, Toy Story, Frozen and Zootopia. We’ll have more to share about these productions soon, but this is a great example of how we’re leaning into our unrivaled brands and franchises.” -- Bob Iger, Disney CEO

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At the same time, Kristen Anderson-Lopez further confirmed this, indirectly announcing that the Lopezes would return to write the songs for the new film.

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On the same day, Josh Gad confirmed (inserting link in case video doesn't load) that he was ready to return to the film.

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In June, we received new information about the film in regards to Jennifer Lee's involvement. As of 2023, Jennifer Lee is only overseeing the project, but not writing or directing it. In this announcement, (which is actually bit misleading since, as said, Jennifer Lee is still returning to the project, just not fully as writer/director) Lee hinted that someone else came up with the idea of Frozen 3, and it had become their project. This led to many fans assuming that this new person was the new director/writer.

“I can’t say where we are. All our stories are driven by the artists in the studio. Where we’re going with Frozen did not come from me, it came from an incredible person. That’s a new piece, I’ve told no one. And I’ve been blown away by it and I’m just having a blast with that team.” -- Jennifer Lee, Disney Animation Studios Chief Creative Officer

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In the same month, Idina Menzel confirmed her return as Elsa. However, she stated that she didn't know too much about the project itself and said that they only teased her about it.

“I don’t know a lot. To be completely honest, they teased it to us, and I have no idea. They don’t show you a script. They don’t show you anything. All I know is, yeah we are gonna make one, and that’s it. So, I’m like, ‘Cool! I will be able to pay my bills." --Idina Menzel, Voice of Elsa

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A Month later, Idina continued to drop small tidbits of what she knows (barely anything apparently haha) about F3 in another interview with This Morning.

youtube

"Yes...it's happening I was told, I mean you know nothing's been signed but I'm very excited if it is happening- I swear to you I'm not being elusive...I haven't seen a script." --Idina Menzel, Voice of Elsa

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Later in October, we got more info about the film's creative team and how involved Jennifer Lee actually is on the project. Lee announced that the incredible person who came up with the idea of F3 was Marc Smith, Director of story for F2. She also stated that she was blown away by the progress on the project.

“Every morning last week they carved out space for me to work with the creative team on it, and I am blown away and I am so excited. I don’t know what I’m doing on it yet — I’m not doing nothing — except doing what I do now, which is we work on every project as as team and I’m in there with creative. But with ‘Frozen,’ just a little bit more. Our philosophy is this, and it won’t change: If there is more story to tell, the filmmakers have to drive it. And I’ll say with ‘Frozen,’ Marc Smith, who was our director of story on ‘Frozen 2,’ came with an incredible idea for more ‘Frozen,’ and it’s worth it." -- Jennifer Lee, Disney Animation Studios Chief Creative Officer

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Jennifer Lee later confirmed this information again in another interview within the same month, and also pushed that the Frozen Podcast: Forces of Nature, is not canon the the newest project.

The idea for Frozen 3, she continues, came from Marc Smith, head of story on Frozen II. “Growing it out from there feels right because it’s coming with vision, it’s coming with purpose." Lee can't say much about what the sequel entails, but when asked if fans should be paying close attention to the current Frozen story being told on the Forces of Nature podcast series, she's hesitant to consider the audio offering canon. In my head, the films will always stay canon. Anything done outside of that, we give them permission to have their own identity. They may not be canon. I still encourage it because I think it’s fun to explore. But don’t hold us to anything except what we put in those features. That’s just me. I don’t want to disappoint anyone. But I also want to say I love that other artists get inspired, and I love the idea of the Frozen story.” -- Jennifer Lee, Disney Animation Studios Chief Creative Officer

---

The biggest shock that shook the entire fandom and internet culture, was when Bob Iger dropped the reveal that a Frozen 4 was also in the works at the studio in November.

youtube

‘Frozen 3’ is in the works, and there might be a ‘Frozen 4’ in the works too. But I don’t have much to say about those films right now. Jenn Lee, who created the original ‘Frozen’ and ‘Frozen 2,’ is hard at work with her team at Disney animation on not one but actually two stories.” -- Bob Iger, Disney CEO

---

Along side the above announcement, Kristen Anderson-Lopez also confirmed the fourth film.

---

Later on in the same month, Jennifer Lee gave more back ground on the idea of two films, and indirectly confirmed that the films would be one story told across two installments.

"We're really excited about where they're going, and we just have a lot of story to tell with that direction we're going in. So, I think, in my head, there may be enough for two in that story. But I'm really, really loving working with the team and where they're going." --Jennifer Lee, Disney Animation Studios Chief Creative Officer

---

In November as well, This tweet (linking here just in case the video below doesn't work) started to pick up steam and was posted by a verified account - however, it is still iffy on whether or not this info was for F3 or was just taken from an interview about F2 and repurposed to be about F3. If it is genuine, then Jennifer Lee hints here that the story will possibly involve Elsa's powers growing.

"I will tell you what I think philosophically, that isn't telling you what is in [Frozen 3]. I think Anna and Elsa's journey is only continuing. It was warned by the Trolls that that Elsa's powers would only grow. So, that's all I will say." --Jennifer Lee, Disney Animation Studios Chief Creative Officer

---

In December, Jennifer Lee did another interview with Heart where she actually revealed a tiny bit more about Frozen 3's story. She goes on to say that Elsa and Anna will be very busy in the next project.

youtube

“Well they are coming back. Big Iger himself leaked it, that we got so much story that we’re working on now, it looks like it’s gonna be two films. Cause it’s so big where they’re going next. And Elsa’s got a lot to do, so, and I can’t give anything away to say what’s gonna happen but Anna as well. And Anna’s you know, I feel very connected to her, the ordinary hero, I don’t have any magic. But I’m really excited. The amazing thing to me is always how these two sisters as we start looking at their journey, they keep surprising us and telling us, showing us what they’re capable of. So I’m definitely excited about where we’re going.” So does Elsa find love? “I can’t give anything away, I can’t tell you anything. All I want to say is that anyone who thinks they’ve heard anything they are not true, there’s no leak, nothing has left our vaulted story room and the only leak is what Bob Iger leaked himself.” --Jennifer Lee, Disney Animation Studios Chief Creative Officer

---

#greatqueenanna/news #Frozen 3 #Frozen 4 #frozen #Youtube #frozen 3 news

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teecupangel · 2 months

Note

Ad Altaïr Anon

Curse ye Tumblr! Why must you prevent me from showing the image of t-posing Altair moments before being sucked into The Cube!! (it's absolutely not me being a first-time nooby asker who has never sent a link through ask ever nu-uh it's all tumblr)

maybe this link will work instead, I'm slightly better with imgur links at least :v

https://imgur.com/a/Hl2elSH

And yeah that's it! I never put one on my computer myself simply because i once tried to mod minecraft in the olden days and messed up so badly that I figured i should just leave that sort of stuff alone.

But AH, my heart! The future and doomed Desmond giving them that slight control over the grey so maybe this Desmond wouldn't have to die 😭

but also lol oh boy would Altair get lost in the sauce surfing the web! It worse than when he was alive with the apple because now he doesn't have to eat, drink, or sleep so someone has to pry him out of the web every once in a while.

(The only real modding I’ve done in a long time was for Mugen back in those days. To be honest though, my brother helped me add characters and stuff hahaha)

The “Altaïr interrupts Desmond’s game using an ‘ad’” idea and its sorta prequel sorta sequel for those curious

“We need to talk about Altaïr’s internet addiction.”

Desmond stared at Shaun’s solemn expression for a fraction of a second before he turned his attention back to the instant noodles he was having for lunch.

He didn’t really like soggy noodles.

“Desmond, this is serious.” Shaun placed his hands on the table and towered over Desmond who was hunched to make it easier to eat his noodles.

That was a bad move.

Desmond could just as easily headbutt his nose at this distance.

“I’m listening, Shaun.” Desmond replied half-heartedly before eating once more.

He didn’t understand why Shaun wanted to talk to him about Altaïr’s internet addiction. It wasn’t like Desmond could stop the man from scouring every web page available in Wikipedia in his endless pursuit of knowledge.

… not that he would want to anyway.

“Desmond, Altaïr has been using the computer 24/7. We have to keep the AC on just to make sure the computer doesn’t overheat. Together with the electricity needed for the Animus and our other devices, two of which are now fully being used by Ezio and Connor-”

Desmond slowly raised his head so Shaun would have a warning to pull away. It was still a close call, Desmond’s head almost knocking against Shaun’s nose but Shaun stood and crossed his arms while Desmond took a sip of the soup before asking, “Are you… are you trying to talk to me about our upcoming electric bill?”

“Not ‘ours’ but the building we’re ‘piggy backing’ from.” Shaun clarified, “They’ll definitely think something is up when they see the sudden spike.”

“Then isn’t this too late already?” Desmond countered lightly, “The bill’s gonna come sooner or later. Might just be better for us to book it.”

Shaun grimaced but did not deny it.

Desmond sighed before he said, “How about this. I’ll tell Altaïr to find us a new safehouse and take care of the logistics and stuff. That’ll be his punishment for skyrocketing some random business’ electric bill.”

Shaun opened his mouth, most probably to argue, so Desmond asked, “Unless you already have the next safehouse in mind?”

Shaun sighed as he said, “I’ll tell the others about it. You tell Altaïr about his punishment.”

Desmond waved his hand before lowering his head to continue eating while Shaun stormed out of the dining room, most probably to bother Rebecca.

Or complain to her.

Maybe both.

Probably both.

Desmond waited until he could no longer hear Shaun’s footsteps before turning to look at his phone that was lying next to the cup noodles.

“Congrats, Altaïr. You got what you wanted.” Desmond mumbled.

His phone’s screen lit up and showed Altaïr in front of his homescreen, arms crossed as he said, “Not yet. Not until we’ve finally settled in a more secured location.”

“More secured.” Desmond snorted, “Just say the internet is too slow for you here.”

“Hm.” Altaïr didn’t even bother to give him a proper reply.

Nor deny it.

“Well, at least wait until midnight before sending the plan to everyone.” Desmond reminded him, “Otherwise, Shaun’s going to find out this was your plan from the start.”

“I know. I’m not a fool, Desmond.” Altaïr said calmly before adding, “Eat a fruit or have salad after that.”

“I’ll eat an apple, alright.” Desmond rolled his eyes, “Please don’t repeat to me how bad it is for my body to keep eating instant noodles.”

Altaïr sighed, “Fine. I’ll leave you with your pathetic excuse for a meal then.”

“Thanks.” Desmond sarcastically said, watching as the screen of his phone turned off.

And he can finally eat in peace…

… soggy noodles.

Damn it.

#assassin's creed #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed #desmond miles #altaïr ibn la'ahad #shaun hastings #ask and answer

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dustdeepsea · 3 months

Text

WIP Wednesday

Edit: The story has been completed and posted here on AO3 :)

It's Wednesday here in the future :)

Working Title: Nine Lives (sequel to aqua vitae) Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Rating: Teen (non-explicit excerpt) Relationships: Rugan/Tav (Baldur’s Gate)

This is set post-game, so possible spoilers for the end of act 3.

Note: This is a work in progress and is subject to major changes in the final published version. It is not proof-read or edited; all typos are mine.

Falling feels like flying. Tumbling through the sky, you feel like a rag doll cast out of an angry child’s pram.

One final tantrum from the Netherbrain in its death throes.

So this is how I go, you think. You feel strangely at peace, watching the water below rush towards you, smooth and serene as glass from up high. You look around at your friends, your eyes watering as the wind streams past your face.

One last image to hold in your mind.

Gale reaches out, his hands moving in desperate patterns, even though you know that by now he’s burnt through every scrap of his reserves. At the same time, Astarion breaks the wax seal on a scroll with both hands. His catlike grace makes him appear seated in mid-air, suspended. He was always the better rogue.

You feel the gentle tug of transmutation magic, as you are lifted up by the scruff of your neck. Featherfall sparkles around you in the sunlight. You are still descending rapidly, but floating upright now. Spread out before you is the ruined cityscape, the harbour, the grey ships and their sails. Everything and everyone you’ve fought so hard for.

You draw your arms and legs in, and shut your eyes.

The spell gives out three metres above the water, and you splash into the river. The cold water is a shock to your aching, battle-worn body. Your limbs seize up. You feel bubbles rush over and around you.

It takes a moment before your survival instincts kick in and your lungs begin to scream.

I want to live.

The thought animates your leaden legs, forces them to flutter and kick. Thrashing your way upwards, you break the surface and gasp for air.

The end of the world has come and gone. You’ve survived.

The doors to the Elfsong are thrown wide open, and everyone in the city seems to be either passing through the bar, or spilling out into the streets with their drinks and singing loudly. The cellars have been emptied, and every bard in town seems to be playing on the same stage tonight. Commerce is the lifeblood of Baldur’s Gate, you recall Wyll saying. There’s nothing better for business than a near brush with death.

At some point, someone cast Prestidigitation on you, and pressed a hot drink into your hand. You clutch it numbly, the cup long grown cold.

Tomorrow, there will be a reckoning. You think about your remaining companions, your time together already coming to an end. So many goodbyes were already said that afternoon on the pier—you shake your head to interrupt the dismal thoughts. For now, you’re alive and that’s all that matters.

You can’t fault the people of Baldur’s Gate for celebrating. You would do the same if you were in their shoes.

The noise and press of the people around you is driving you mad. You put down your cup and push your way to the doors. All around you, the cheer goes up, red faces saluting you with their drinks. They hoot and holler, and shout your name.

“Tav! Tav! Tav!”

You smile and wave to your adoring crowd, as you edge your way to the exit. The roar of the tavern crowd fades as you leave their field of vision and they turn back to their revelry. You slip away from the crowd milling near the entrance and out into the night.

Most of the buildings in the Lower City are still standing, minus a few spires. Further away, folks stand around scattered bonfires, drinking and speaking more quietly.

You take in a deep breath and wrinkle your nose. The air is crisp but smells of acrid woodsmoke and ozone. Piles of illithid bodies are being burnt and tossed into collapsed doorways. Still, it’s better than being trapped indoors.

You exhale, and lean against a nearby facade that's intact. It feels like you’ve been holding your breath since you landed in the river.

“Now, that doesn’t sound very festive.” A gently chiding voice drifts over from the street.

You lift your head and watch its owner approach you, open bottle in hand. Of course he would be here, sauntering up to you, after half the city had been destroyed. This man clearly has nine lives.

“Rugan,” you say, and a smile breaks over his face. Exhausted as you are, you feel your lips quirk upwards in response.

“Tav.” He’s standing right in front of you now, and your body remembers a different night in a small room, lit by dim lamplight. You hope it’s not written all across your face.

“I like the hair piece,” he says, gesturing with the bottle.

Puzzled, you reach up towards your head and your hands close around a braided flower crown. Someone must have placed it on you in the tavern without you noticing. You pull it off, slowly, the wildflowers scattering tiny yellow and white petals as they catch in your hair.

It hangs from your hands, loosely, as you glance between it and his amused face. “It’s been a very long day,” you say, finally, and he laughs.

“Long is an understatement, lass.” He offers you the bottle and you readily accept.

“Word on the street is that we have you and your crew to thank for all of us still being alive,” he says, as you take a sip. It tastes green and medicinal on your tongue. “Let me buy you a proper drink inside.”

Highsun liqueur. You lick your lips and sigh.

“I shouldn’t.” You rub at your face and suppress a shudder at the thought of the roiling crowd in the Elfsong. “Sorry—I haven’t dared to have a drink all evening. If I accept one, I will have to drink them all, and then I'll wake up passed out in the Chionthar.”

He nods sagely, like it’s a dilemma that he’s encountered many times before. “Well, what would you like to do instead?” he asks, placidly. There’s no hint of leering or suggestion in his voice.

You’re stunned for a moment. No one’s asked you that question in a kindly manner, for a very long while. Gods and devils and their emissaries have hounded you relentlessly for what feels like forever, spurring you from one wild task to the next, the tadpole in your head all the while a ticking time-bomb.

“What should we do, Tav?” used to mean—which awful choice do we make now? Who gets to live? Who dies next?

For the first time in a long time, you can answer without despairing.

“I have an idea. Come with me.” Impulsively, you drop the flower crown on the ground, and take his hand. It’s large and warm against yours.

He looks surprised, but doesn’t protest as you tug him towards the side of the tavern building, where fewer people are about. You hand the bottle back to him, and let go of his hand to rummage around in your satchel. With a flourish, you pull out the scroll of Dimension Door. You’ve earned this, all hundred gold pieces worth of it. No more scrimping and saving for the next fight.

Linking your arms, you look at Rugan and flash him a perfectly ordinary, non-crazed grin. “Hold onto me,” you say, and crack the seal, teleporting you both to the rooftop of the Elfsong.

#wip #wip wednesday #rugan #rugan x tav #rugan x reader #my writing #I've accidentally started another series send help #dustdeepsea fic: nine lives #dustdeepsea series: trouble will find me

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misslavenderlady · 1 year

Text

He's Just an Actor - Chapter 1 ❤️

Dwayne/Female!Reader (She/Her Pronouns)

Summary: The reader has gotten used to her time in the world of The Lost Boys and her new relationship with the handsome vampire, Dwayne. When the boys get curious about the actors who play them in the other world, the reader suddenly remembers her boyfriend's actor has had quite the interesting experiences in his line of work~

This is in the universe of the fic "It's Just a Movie" by @theyreonlynoodlesmike, so you should definitely read that first (this takes place a little into chapter 12)! I originally planned this to be just for Dwayne, but ended up doing something for all four boys. This one is 3 chapters, but the other ones will be 1 chapter each.

WARNINGS: Nsfw/Smut/18+ Readers Only, Flirting, Dirty Thoughts

Next Chapter

When you had first gotten settled into your crazy new life in the world of The Lost Boys and the city of Santa Carla, your new, vampire friends had bombarded you with several questions about the world you came from. Whenever you had some downtime in between decorating your space and planning on rewriting their tragic demise, your boys, particularly Marko and Paul, asked about what the future was like. They wanted to know about special events in history, fashion changes in the upcoming decades, and the new technology that awaited them (considering how they mocked the digital movie ticket on your phone the night you met, that one surprised you the most).

As much as you would have loved to tell them about the future, you had to constantly shut down the conversation. They had to realize that not only could their world end up differently from yours, but if it did end up going the same way, then you couldn’t risk triggering drastic changes to the timeline. When you had asked if the movie Back to the Future existed in this world and they said it did, you made a point of comparing the situation to the one Doc Brown spoke of.

However, you did throw them a bone and say that if the film industry here was the same as your own, then they could expect two sequels from that movie. They were surprisingly delighted to hear that.

After a couple of weeks of getting settled in, you had given in to a few of their minor questions about your world. You were a bit more open about talking about your family and friends and the life that wouldn’t exist for more than 30 years. They were surprisingly good listeners when you fed them those tidbits, no doubt grateful that you gave into them.

One night in particular, you were cuddled up on the couch with Dwayne, now a few days into your relationship with him after sharing that unexpected, yet very sweet first kiss in your room. He had been playing cards with the other three Lost Boys while holding you in his lap when a question was brought up.

“Holy shit, you know what I just realized?” Paul exclaimed, nearly dropping his cards on the cave floor. “If our lives are a movie in your world, that means ACTORS had to play us”.

“Yes, Paul. There are in fact actors instead of vampires playing the roles in the movie” you snorted, amused that it had taken the poor stoner this long to realize this. To your surprise, the other three seemed to perk up as well. To be fair, when they saw their own images on your phone screen, they had just accepted it as themselves, not actors merely pretending to be creatures of the night.

“You gotta tell us about them!” Paul eagerly said, his cards and the game they were playing forgotten. “I gotta know who’s the guy who shares my gorgeous face”.

Before you made a joke about Paul’s vanity, Marko and David nodded and joined in with his request.

“Yeah! I wanna know who plays me! What’s he like?” Marko asked.

“I’ll admit, I’m pretty curious myself. You don’t have to tell us too much, we just want to know the basics,” David agreed. At least he was considerate enough to recognize the limits you had about sharing the future with them.

You wanted to keep your mouth shut about it. They might get jealous of one another for their actors having different ranges of success in their respective careers. Before you could deny them, you felt Dwayne’s warm breath on your skin as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“C’mon, baby” he whispered to you, knowing damn good and well his voice was enough to make you melt. “Just tell us a little bit, please”

Now how could you possibly say no to that?

You ended up telling them as much as you knew about their actors. As you expected, David got laughed at by the others for his actor having the first name “Kiefer”. When Paul commented that it sounded like “reefer”, you confirmed that Kiefer Sutherland said in interviews that he had gotten teased with that nickname as a kid. That only added more to the mocking they threw his way.

What made David’s ego boost again was hearing that his actor had by far the longest list of movie and tv credits out of all of them, making his name the most well-known in Hollywood. As you listed everything from Stand By Me to A Few Good Men to 24, you could see the smugness growing in David’s eyes, no doubt proud of his counterpart for his impressive resume. The others scoffed, saying it wasn’t fair that David’s actor had it so good, especially when you said he had a father who was a famous actor as well.

Paul was very sore that his actor, Brooke McCarter, had such a short list of acting roles for his career. He was even more cranky that the other movie he was most well-known for was about skateboarding.

“That’s Dwayne’s thing, not mine!” he pouted. Your body gently shook from Dwayne chuckling in amusement behind you.

However, that pout went away when you mentioned that Brooke had experience in both modeling and music. You complimented the wonderful singing voice that he had in the bits of song samples you had come across. Paul was practically puffing like a peacock at the idea that his looks and musical skills were just as prominent in your world as it was in their world.

You were so happy to see him so proud that you didn’t have the heart to tell him that Brooke had unfortunately passed away from his liver disease. You remembered how heartbroken you were when you learned the news and how much all of his fans, friends and family must have been hurting as well. All you said was that his actor was a kind man who was a dear friend to everyone in the movie production and a good father to his daughter. It was all he needed to know.

You were definitely excited to tell Marko about his actor next. Along with being a big fan of The Lost Boys, you also adored the Bill & Ted movies. You gushed to him about Alex Winter’s comedy skills and how even after several decades the most recent movie in the franchise was amazing (and you would fight anyone who said otherwise). He smiled as you explained the cultural impact, and even asked him to repeat the iconic “be excellent to each other” line the same way Bill S. Preston, Esq. would say it. When he humored you and did so, you were practically squealing with delight.

Marko was pleasantly surprised when you mentioned Alex’s experience in both Broadway and directing. He was impressed when you listed off the more serious work he created, but when you gave a taste of the fun and insanity from his movie Freaked, that really put a smile on his face. Glancing at Paul as you explained the wacky plot you could tell he was wishing it was real in their world so that he could watch it while stoned out of his mind.

Overall, everyone was satisfied with the answers you were giving them, and you in turn felt pretty good about giving them some information about the world you came from. It felt like you were bonding with them more, sharing the things that brought joy to you and what made your boys the way they were in their movie.

Behind you, Dwayne adjusted your position so that you were seated on the couch next to him instead of on his lap. He held your hand in his own, the cool temperature clashing beautifully with your human warmth. That same eagerness the others had was prominent on his face as well.

“What about my actor? What’s he done?”

You were ready to go on your tangent, you really were. After seeing everyone else so happy, you were on a roll with sharing the work of their actors. However, when Dwayne asked his innocent question, you only then realized something important.

His actor was Billy Wirth, and you now remembered that Mr. Wirth had a surprisingly large amount of sexual roles in experience.

Your brain was short-circuiting as you mentally went down the list of roles you had seen in his filmography on Wikipedia back in your world. Desperately, you had to think of something that wouldn’t make you start blushing at the mere mention.

It didn’t help your situation that Billy’s first movie role in Seven Minutes in Heaven was as a flirtatious baseball player that stole cotton candy out of the mouth of a girl he didn’t even know before taking her into a lingerie store. You remembered how quickly your jaw dropped while watching that movie when he unsnapped a mannequin’s bra with just one hand.

Next!

Right after The Lost Boys, he had used his partial indigenous heritage to play the main role in the movie War Party. As much as you wanted to bring light to that one, all you could think of was how gorgeous he had looked without a shirt while riding a horse in some of the scenes. At least in this world, he had his jacket on to keep you from going positively braindead.

Next!!

You were a big fan of the show Tales from The Crypt, and you could talk a mile a minute about all the famous actors that had made cameos in each episode. However, you weren’t ready to explain the fact that Billy’s role in his episode involved being a hot lumberjack that got seduced by his boss’ wife before fucking her on one of the beds in the log cabin. Even if other stuff happened in that episode, you’d be skimping out on a lot of the plot if you tried to skip over it.

NEXT!!!

Children of the Dust? His character had a passionate sex scene with a beautiful co-star in a hay pile while asking her to run away with him. Ever since you first watched that you had developed fantasies about being ravaged in a wedding dress. Venus Rising? Might as well call it “Cyber Sex, The Movie”. His episode on Charmed? God, you swooned every time you heard the line “If it pleases you to look, then look~” while seeing Billy stand proudly in tight jeans and no shirt. Not to mention the way he had grabbed that one actress from behind and told her to defend herself really did things to you.

By the time you thought about the most sexual role of all on his list, Red Shoe Diaries, you truly realized how royally fucked you were in this situation. Out of all the hot vampire guys to make a move on you, why did it have to be the one whose actor had the most risqué roles?? Even if all the other actors had varying degrees of experience with sex scenes in movies, you couldn’t deny that Billy Wirth’s stood out to you the most.

“HA! She can’t think of anything! Looks like you got the short end of the stick, Dwayne!” Marko teased his friend. It was only then that you snapped out of your trance, seeing the worried expression on your boyfriend’s face now. Fuck, he probably thought your silence meant you couldn’t think of any other acting roles at all. You had to stop the others from mocking him even further.

“No no! I’m sorry, I zoned out for a second!” you profusely apologized. God, that look on Dwayne’s face made you feel awful. “Your actor’s name is Billy Wirth, and I promise you, he’s been in plenty of stuff!”

You managed to calm your nerves and your lady bits enough to list off some of the more innocent roles he was known for. You stuck with roles from the 21st century, explaining all of the cameos his actor had in popular tv shows. To add some more notes to the list, you mentioned how Billy Wirth was also into directing independent films as well. When Dwayne still seemed skeptical, you went off on a tangent about how his actor and Paul’s had met through the same modeling agency and he had his own impressive career in that field.

As long as you didn’t think TOO much about all those gorgeous pictures of Billy Wirth’s photo sessions, you’d be fine.

Finally, he seemed happy with your explanation and you mentally patted yourself on the back for pulling all that stuff out without getting flustered. If you had ended up blushing at the thought of Dwayne’s actor passionately kissing and touching one of his female co-stars, you would NEVER hear the end of it from David and the terror twins.

“He sounds like a cool guy. I’m glad to have someone like that play me” Dwayne said. His gentle smile helped put you at ease. Finally, you could stop worrying about the situation. You ended up moving the conversation to tell the boys fun facts about The Lost Boys movie and the process that went into filming it.

It was all in good fun until David politely, yet firmly reminded you that the sun would be rising in just a few, short minutes. Sure enough, when you glanced out of the main entrance to the cave, you saw how dangerously light the sky was getting. Time really did fly when you were having fun.

Each one of the boys bid you farewell for the day, thanking you for telling them about the lives of their actors from your world. David headed to their dark section of the cave first, still carrying himself in a smug way from all the roles you told him about. Marko and Paul followed him and you could hear them whispering about becoming models in their own world as well. You chuckled to yourself, wondering how they planned to do it with such limited time they were available in the day. No sunny photoshoots at the beach for them.

When it was just you and Dwayne, you felt your heartbeat speed up. As he reached to cup his hand against your cheek, you couldn’t help but feel like he was reading the look on your face a little too closely. Trying to figure out the real reason you had that moment of silence when he asked about his actor. You feigned innocence, simply smiling at him in a loving manner before leaning in for your farewell kiss.

“Sweet dreams, honey,” you told him before slipping from his touch and making a beeline for your room. If he was about to question your hesitation from earlier, you were gonna get the hell out of there before he got a single word in. Thankfully, as you slipped past the curtain by your room entrance, you heard the sound of footsteps making their way out of the main room and into the sleeping area with the others.

As the sunshine crept into the cave, you got settled into your bed, ready to just relax and enjoy some rest before the next night came. You snuggled into a nearby pillow, breathing in the scent of Dwayne left from the times he laid down here with you. Unfortunately, that proved to be a bad move, because now you were thinking about Dwayne in bed with you doing other things besides sleeping. When you finally felt yourself drifting off to sleep, dirty images of Dwayne filled your head, ready to give you dreams that were more than just sweet~

Goddamn Billy Wirth and his stupid, sexy body.

Tag List: @britany1997 @6lostgirl6 @american-idiot-jpg @herthinkersmanana

#the lost boys #tlb #dwayne the lost boys #dwayne x reader #ao3 fic #my fic

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lewkwoodnco · 7 months

Text

August (Lockwood x reader)

A/N: inspired by the tsitp version of august (which you can listen to here on Spotify) but also works for the regular version of August too! Spoilers for the ending of the third book of the series! Angst, but not in a depressing way ish? Idk (wc: 1.3k) read the sequel here

The first few nights after were the hardest. The image of that Changer who took the shape of Lockwood with a hole blasted through his chest was burned into her retinas. The Changer had threatened her, or warned her, that it had been her doing, and it was only a matter of time before it actually happened. The guilt sat in her stomach for six days, cementing her to her bed, barely coming down to eat or drink, but on the sixth day she was as well as she could be. She didn’t have a renewed sense of vigour or sudden clarity in her life’s purpose, but she had something that occupied her well enough.

The four them were going for a small trip to the seaside where they had rented a cosy house by the beach, for a little break after one of the toughest cases they had in a while. Lucy was still feeling loopy from the Poltergeist and George had been a little quieter than usual. Lockwood…she couldn’t bring herself to look at him, or think too long about him, before slipping into despair. If Lockwood had noticed her distance from him, he showed no sign of it, not that she would have noticed. Except for the fact that even in times like now, she couldn’t help but notice every little detail about him. Whatever it was, a bit of fresh air was exactly what they needed to lift their spirits, so she decided to wait until the end of their trip to tell them.

And so they left for their weekend getaway. The air was pleasantly balmy and the warmth melted the last vestiges of cold trapped in their bones. It was so peaceful, and bright, with a sea of possibility stretched out ahead of them. For the next day-and-a-half, she ate, drank, swam and laughed just as hard as the rest of them. There was no reason to dampen their spirits just yet. Maybe she wouldn’t even have to tell them.

Of all their games and activities her favourite by far was just sitting on the beach, watching the foamy waves roll in. She could feel the freedom in the best of the seagulls wings, who called out to her, urging her toward a realm of possibilities. The sand playfully shifted around her ankles when she dug her feet in deep enough, and the wind whipped her hair with a salty sting, pushing her, propelling her, towards the rest of her life. And during sunset, an intense orange glow outlined all the cracks and crevices in them and the house, a light almost bright enough to consider life outside of Lockwood & co. That’s where Lockwood found her on Sunday evening, the night before they were supposed to leave. Lucy had somehow managed to scatter all her belongings throughout the house and George was making an upside-down pineapple cake. When she left, Lockwood had been uncharacteristically engrossed in some case report. They hadn’t talked much since Lockwood had pulled her to safety, seconds before certain death, and though she knew it was impossible for him to have seen what she did, a part of her felt embarrassed, or clumsy, to have been so careless.

The wind was quite loud in her ears, so she hadn’t noticed him until he sat down beside her. Besides his coat, most of Lockwood’s normal attire apparently doubled as beach-wear, as long as his sleeves and trousers were rolled up. She unsuccessfully tried to stand up, panickedly scrabbling at the mound she had absent-mindedly packed onto her feet, but it was too late. She awkwardly clasped her hands around her shins, staring straight into the gentle sea lapping at the shore, listening to Lockwood breathe just a tiny bit more agitated than normal.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” In her nervousness, her voice had become a little too high pitched, but she hoped the wind has swallowed up most of it anyway.

“Did you have fun?”

Did she have fun? Maybe it was the shadow of what she was about to do looming over her, but everything had somehow felt extra funny in this trip. They played Charades until they laughed themselves blue in the face, ate so many biscuits until it was too much of an effort to trudge back to the house after their picnics, and fell over each other laughing as they watched George insistently yank at the front door that was mostly rusted shut. Even as she looked at Lockwood now, eyelashes bleached by the fading daylight, she felt a peace that had nothing to do with the sea, wind, or seagulls. It was the feeling of having so little, and yet having everything she could ever dream of needing.

But she couldn’t say all that. “Yeah. Nice change of scenery.”

He smiled, and her heart thumped crazily. It was so easy to get swept up in the grim of things and forget how young she was, with her whole life ahead of her to have all these firsts - first butterflies, first crush, first love, or even just the first delusion of being in love. Before the Poltergeist, she even remembered this one quiet night in, when she was lying on her bed with her legs up the wall, staring at the ceiling and seeing all these images of Lockwood, and it wasn’t until much later that she remembered they weren’t actually anything more than friends. It just felt so natural, so easy to want and to want him, the curve of his shoulders, the curve of his face… And she only felt that way with Lockwood. He made her feel giggly and as warm as the beach, and maybe it was unprofessional, irrational and irresponsible, but he brought out the worst - and the best - of her. She would do anything for him, even if it meant breaking her heart. Even if it meant breaking his heart.

“I know you’re planning something. And I know it’s something big.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’ve been exhausted before, but not like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like your mind is somewhere else. Like you’re plotting. And I’m going to find out eventually, somehow.”

Her butterflies crumbled into nausea, and the hitch in her breath was anxious rather than coincidental. It was going so wrong so fast. She could feel her lips moving and hear the words coming out of them, but she wasn’t the one talking.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“I know I am.”

“You will find out, eventually.”

“Exactly.”

“Like right now.”

“Like - what?”

“I’m leaving Lockwood & co.”

She didn’t expect herself to sound so calm, her tone to be so even. And from the looks of it, neither did Lockwood. Maybe replaying this instant for days in her head made her more prepared than she realised. Lockwood stared at the shore, unblinking, until she began to wonder if she had really even said it at all.

“Lockwood?”

But it was too late, and he was already up and swiftly walking back to their villa. She could only walk so fast, kicking the uncomfortable wet sand off her feet, her pleas for him to slow down or wait painfully hanging in the still air. He walked into the house and went straight to his room, closing the door shut while she stood helplessly in the doorway to the kitchen.

George was just finishing up the icing on his cake and Lucy was eating some of the leftover pineapple. She didn’t see the point in keeping it from them either. George was properly put off his cake and Lucy looked like she might cry.

The air in the house was too tense to have dinner that night, and so she went to bed after giving Lucy a quick hug. As she lay on her bed, she looked out the window through the reflection on her mirror, and watched the stars come up and go down. She and her packed bags had left before the sun came up.

She only lasted a summer.

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