#using some of the same language as i use here

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (27)

[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: fingering, masturbation, sexual tension, smut, angst, dirty talk, kissing without consent, swearing ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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When her uncle decided that they would spend the night in Dragonstone for a moment she thought she had overheard herself − she was unable to contain her delight and outburst of joy at his words, feeling that he had somehow rewarded her for her efforts.

Or at least she thought he had.

His sudden change of plans was unlike him, and she was aware of that, knowing his nature.

He detested deviating from the plans he had previously made for himself.

However, she recognised that perhaps he wanted to show her and her family his sincere intentions, to prove that she was not just a prisoner in his eyes and that he, as her husband, could also sleep under their roof without being one.

She wasn't sure if she had ever been as happy in her life as she had been the moment she flew through the sky next to Vhagar, Caraxes and Syrax; her heart was filled with heat and hope, her uncle's words echoing in her mind like a sweet whisper.

I am proud of you.

Those words meant more to her than any of his other confessions.

Of course, his confession of love was a wonderful thing, but she had always been waiting for him to appreciate her as a person, not just a woman he saw by his side.

With this, she finally felt equal to him.

Her optimism extinguished as quickly as it had appeared as soon as she crossed the walls of the family fortress. Although her heart screamed with joy at the sight of familiar rooms, smells and sights, the faces of her brothers left her with no illusions.

She swallowed loudly as she saw the hateful look on Jace's face; she knew him and she knew that he was hurt.

He was disappointed and heartbroken, he felt humiliated and, deep down, betrayed by her, even though she never meant it.

Luke clearly didn't know what he felt himself, because he just lowered his head, unable to look into her eyes.

She felt a squeeze in her throat at the sight, a discomfort in her stomach that told her that perhaps this wasn't her home at all anymore.

She was no longer welcome here.

She was snapped out of her reverie by Rhaena − her step-sister was the first to approach her, warmth and longing in her gaze, some kind of understanding from which she felt tears under her eyelids. They hugged each other tightly, though they had never done so before − her words made her feel a tightening in her stomach.

"I'm so happy you're alive." She muttered in a breaking voice, and she smiled involuntarily at her words.

"Me too."

As Baela approached them, also enclosing her in the tight embrace of her arms, she thought with a shrug that even though she hadn't let them into the depths of her heart for so many years, they truly cared and worried about her.

At the very end Joffrey ran up to her, sobbing loudly.

"− why have you been so long in King's Landing? − why did you leave us? − Jace wouldn't read me my favourite book −" He mumbled cuddled into her belly, her hands combing through his dark curls with the calm motion of her fingers.

"− forgive me − I'm here −" She said softly, looking at her older brother and swallowed hard, seeing the murderous glances they exchanged over the table with her husband.

She looked at her mother, who nodded, understanding what she wanted to convey to her.

"You are certainly exhausted. Take up your old quarters, daughter, I will immediately command them to be brought to order and prepared for you." Rheanyra said calmly, and she bowed before her.

"Thank you, my Queen." She said softly, looking into her eyes. Her mother swallowed hard and nodded, allowing them to leave.

As they stepped inside her chamber, she felt a squeeze in her heart and some kind of elation; all her belongings were in their places exactly as she had left them, as if no one had been allowed in here since she had been forcibly held in the Red Keep.

She shuddered, snapped out of her reverie when her uncle moved ahead of her, strolling around the room with his hands folded behind his back, intrigued.

It seemed to her that some part of him wanted to understand what her life had been like and who she had been for the eight years during which they had been separated.

She saw him walk over to her old oak desk and run his fingers over its top, thoughtful.

"− is this here? −" He asked casually.

She felt heat in her lower abdomen at the thought that he meant the place where she had written letters to him.

"− yes −"

She swallowed quietly as he hummed at her words, watching as he sat in the chair where she sat many times leaning over the parchment, scribbling words on it meant only for his eyes. He tapped his finger on the armrest, turning to face her in profile as he gazed out of the window, apparently absorbed in memories.

She thought that although her return home had proved more uncomfortable than she had thought, she was grateful to him.

Whatever decision he had made that morning had led them here and was proof of his intentions.

"− we should rest, husband − if that's what you wish, we'll have supper alone −" She said quietly, smiling at him, wanting him to know she wouldn't force him to sit at the same table with her family.

She thought she would spend the evening with him, give him the feeling that she was not speaking with anyone behind his back, and perhaps in the morning, before they flew away, she would ask him so that she could speak to her mother at last in peace and solitude.

Comforted by this thought and the fact that it looked like all was not lost, she began to tell him about her life in Dragonstone, to show him the books she had written to him about in her letters, the places she had flown to on Larax.

It seemed to her that her husband was only partially listening to her; his gaze was thoughtful, his face expressed weariness and discouragement. She knew that something was making him uncomfortable and she suspected that it was about the place they were in; however, she did not know how to help him, to give him the feeling that neither he nor she was in danger here.

"− uncle − will you tell me what troubles you? −" She finally made an attempt to find out what had been on his mind since the morning. He shuddered at her words and looked at her with a horror as if he was about to faint.

"I'm tired." He replied quickly, without thinking, as if he wanted to answer her anything just to end the subject. She sighed quietly, recognising that she couldn't push him too hard.

Not after what they had managed to accomplish.

"Let's go to bed."

She felt a squeeze in her throat as, already lying on the bedding, she watched as he took out his dagger and tucked it under his pillow; she looked at him and met his calm, impassive gaze.

She decided not to say anything, understanding where his caution came from, not wanting to discourage or frustrate him.

She smiled involuntarily, content as his body clung to hers as soon as he lay at her side. She heard him murmur as she snuggled his face between her breasts, felt his arms embrace her waist and tighten around the material of her nightgown on her back.

She loved it when her mother sang lullabies to her when she was a child; it always calmed and soothed her. She had never dared to sing to him when they were children, fearing that her voice was too squeaky and unpleasant, but now she decided that maybe that was just what he needed.

So she sang, humming softly, once in a while placing a warm, lingering kiss on the top of his head − she felt his embrace slowly growing weaker, his muscles relaxing, his breathing quiet and even.

She sighed quietly feeling him fall asleep.

Someone's jerking and growling roused her from a deep sleep; when she opened her eyes for a moment she didn't know where she was or what was happening.

She recognised her chamber but did not know what her uncle was doing in it, convinced that he still had not answered her letters, as he had not done so for eight years.

After a moment, however, her mind seemed to regain focus and she remembered that she was his wife after all, and that his silhouette lying beside her was not a figment of her imagination.

She raised herself up on her elbow seeing that his body convulsed once in a while, as if he was trying to break free of something, whimpers and grunts came out of his throat, however, his mouth did not open, tears began to fall from the corners of his eyes one by one.

"Uncle! Uncle, please, wake up!" She called out, grabbing his arm, feeling her heart pounding like crazy.

She was frightened and jumped back as his eye opened suddenly, his figure rose to sit up, and he began to pant like a wild animal, quivering all over. She looked at him in disbelief, horrified to hear that he was struggling to catch his breath.

Was he having nightmares again?

Was he dreaming again of the night he lost his eye?

"− easy, my love − breathe −" She whispered tenderly, gently touching his back; he flinched all over and looked at her as if he didn't recognise her − his eye was wide open, his nostrils twitched in accelerated, heavy breaths.

"− Rhaenys − Rhaenys −" He mumbled like a small, terrified child and fell into her arms, bursting into a sob so loud that the voice stuck in her throat.

She embraced him immediately, letting him find protection and comfort in her arms, stroking affectionately his hair and back, placing warm, soft kisses on the top of his head in an attempt to reassure him.

"− I'm here, my love − I'm here −" She mumbled, feeling that the fabric of her nightgown was all wet with his tears, his hot, broken breath enveloping her skin.

She felt like he wanted to melt into one with her, to hide deep inside her from whatever it was that scared him.

He was silent for a long moment, trying to calm himself; she hushed him tenderly, whispering that he was safe, that she was by his side, that all was well. She finally heard him swallow hard, his voice trembling and uncertain.

"− there's something − there's something I want to tell you −" He muttered. She blinked, twisting comfortably in her seat, feeling her heart begin to beat faster.

"− I'm listening to you, my love −" She whispered, stroking his hair. She released him from her arms when she felt him wanting to rise.

He sat on the bedding with his side facing her, running his shaking hand over his face, his healthy eye closed as if afraid of what was about to leave his mouth.

"− I − fuck −" He began, swallowing hard − her hand rose to his back, stroking it reassuringly.

"− easy − take your time − start from the beginning −" She encouraged him softly, not wanting him to fall silent again, seeing that he wanted to throw off whatever had been weighing on his shoulders since they had left Harrenhal.

"− you may remember − Lord Strong wanted to speak with me soon after we arrived in Harrenhal −" He said uncertainly, and she nodded, reminding herself that this was indeed what had happened.

"− yes −"

Her uncle swallowed hard, drawing in air loudly.

"− he told me at the time − that my grandfather had no intention of letting your mother and Daemon leave the Eyrie alive if it turned out they wouldn't accept our terms − but now I think they wouldn't have left alive anyway − Larys had his spies there −" He muttered and fell silent, freezing completely as she did, her heart beginning to pound like mad.

My grandfather had no intention of letting them leave the Eyrie alive.

"Will you be by my side even when all is lost? Even if there is nothing left but darkness? Is that what you had in mind then?" She mumbled out in pain, feeling that there was a complete void in her mind. "Will I be there for you even if your grandfather kills my mother?"

"− n-no −" He began quickly. "− will you be there for me even if I fail to prevent it knowing that I didn't tell you −"

She felt a constriction in her throat and lower abdomen, felt tears of disappointment and sadness flowing into her eyelids − now it was her body that trembled in convulsions, his gaze full of shame and horror directed at her.

She sucked his cock, she let him take her, and he knew that the next day her father and her mother could be murdered.

She pressed her lips together, shaking her head and laughed low.

"− you will betray me − you will run away − those are your words, aren't they? − you were always the first to accuse me − was it because you were trying to cover up your own conscience? − you wanted me to let you down so that you wouldn't feel guilty about doing it over and over again? −" She asked with a cold mockery, from which he bowed his head in embarrassment, in a subconscious reflex he had inherited from his mother plucking the cuticles around his fingernails.

He did not answer.

"− what should I do now? − divorce you? − say I won't come back to King's Landing with you? − not speak to you for eight years? − tell me, uncle, what do you think you deserve? −" She asked dispassionately, feeling the tears of rage and grief one by one run down her cheeks.

She saw him tremble at her words and curl into himself, as if he were again the same little boy who had cried in her arms when his mother had reprimanded him for inappropriate behaviour.

She pressed her lips into a thin line as he hid his face in his hands and wept helplessly, as if his whole person, everything he had built around himself was just falling apart in front of her eyes, showing him his insides, what was left of him.

He was vulnerable.

"− fuck − I − I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid you'd change your mind − that if you warned them they'd see it as a betrayal and wouldn't want to pact − that's why I didn't let any of us stay in the Eyrie − I −"

"− because my mother agreed − but what would you have done if things had turned out differently? −" She asked coldly, and he swallowed hard, covering his eyes with his hand, as if he could not bear what he felt or this conversation.

"− I don't know − I don't know how I could have protected both you and my family then − what decision of mine would have saved you from death −" He muttered and she pulled herself up from the bed, recognising that she didn't feel like listening to this, that she had had enough of him and his guilt when it was always him, him, him disappointing her.

From the first night she had returned to him, when he had closed her cheeks in the brutal grip of his fingers she had seen in his eye what had now become clear to her.

He was weak, and when he was afraid, he resorted to violence.

She heard him stand up behind her, panting heavily, wiping his tear-wet face with his hand.

"− no − don't leave − I told you because −"

"− because your conscience didn't give you peace − because you didn't want to carry your guilt alone −" She hissed, turning towards him with furrowed brows.

She felt that fury, not blood, was flowing through her veins now.

He swallowed loudly at her words, looking at her wide-eyed.

"− if you've never hidden anything from me − you've never concealed anything from me for fear that I might react impulsively, leave − but if you did, come back to bed − I won't touch you −"

She pressed her lips together in fury, recognising that he must have been mocking her, but then she felt an unpleasant sting in her heart that proved she had doubts.

She heard again the words of one of her servants in King's Landing whispering in her ear that when the time came, Prince Daemon would help her escape; she heard again the words of Alys speaking of the prophecy she had not shared with him for fear of his reaction.

Had she really never hidden anything from him?

Her whole body screamed for her to leave; she wanted to do it, but felt that if she did, she would be lying to herself and to him, creating an image in which she was without flaw.

She could say that she had the right to do it, that she had good intentions, but didn't her uncle think the same about his decisions?

She glared at him and let out a loud breath, returning to the bed without a word, sinking into the soft sheets, turning her face away from him. She heard him breathe heavily, and after a moment, the bed creaked under the weight of his body settling against her back.

"− tell me −" He whispered.

She sighed heavily and grunted, recognising that her faults were less than his anyway.

So why did she still feel shame and a squeeze in her gut?

"− after I tried to take my life I was told that my father could help me escape − don't ask how − I also didn't tell you about the prophecy I heard from Alys −"

"− that fucking witch is a liar −" He growled, and she let out a loud breath, impatient.

"− it is possible − but I also heard this prophecy from your sister's mouth − both of them spoke of two rivers of blood merging into one, taking the shape of a dragon's crowned head −" She choked out finally, her husband stirring beside her in his place, surprised.

"− what could this mean? −"

"− I don't know − I was afraid that when you heard it, you would want to give up on the negotiations and return to King's Landing − Alys warned me, so she probably knew what your grandfather was planning to do −" She said regretfully, thinking that strange woman was more concerned for her safety and her family than her husband.

She heard him swallow hard, letting the air out loudly.

"− forgive me −"

She lay in silence for some time, feeling anger that he expected her to simply forget everything, understand his reasons and forgive him as always.

No.

"− I will forgive you, but I have my conditions − we will stay here longer − for a week or two, I will decide in the morning −" She said coldly.

"− but − my mother will be convinced that they are holding us by force −" He began, but she would not let him finish.

"− you will write a letter to your brother informing him that my mother has accepted his terms, but is also setting her own − that we will stay here to discuss all the details, show our goodwill − if your mother wishes, she can travel here in her own person − you can leave Dragonstone when you wish, but I will stay here as long as I desire, and you will show no opposition −" She said impatiently, feeling her heart pounding like mad, her hands clenched into fists.

Her husband swallowed loudly at her words, tense.

"− I − very well −" He muttered finally, knowing that any other words would forever cross him out in her eyes.

She hummed under her breath, covering herself tightly with the bedding and closed her eyes, figuring she wouldn't turn towards him for the rest of the night.

"− don't try to take me or embrace me −" She commanded and he sighed quietly.

She swallowed hard when she felt him place his large hand on her head and begin to stroke her hair exactly as he had when they were children.

She felt furious that it was so pleasant, so soothing, that he knew she loved it.

"− my Rheanys −" He whispered tenderly. She pressed her lips together at his words, feeling a single, lonely tear run down her cheek.

The next morning she was awakened by a rustling noise and the sound of a quill scratching on parchment; she lifted her sleepy eyelids and saw his silhouette sitting behind her desk, bent over a letter he had apparently just written.

She felt strange at the thought that he was sitting in the exact place where she had spent years writing him messages that had never received a response.

She knew, however, that she now had the upper hand over him and that her word was an order to him.

She was not going to imitate his cold nature and not speak to him − they had to maintain a semblance of at least a warm relationship so that the image of their marriage, on which the whole agreement between the two parties was supposed to be based, did not begin to crack.

He lifted his gaze to her when she stood up, but they did not exchange a word between each other.

He did not know what to say.

Her maidservant walked in at her summons and bowed before her, bending her head humbly.

"− my Lady, will you have your morning meal before your travel? − your mother would like to speak with you before you leave for King's Landing −"

"− we will have a meal, but convey to my mother that there is no rush − my husband and I have decided to stay here for a few weeks as an expression of our sincere intentions − my husband is in the process of conveying this message to his brother − my uncle is in need of new garments, provide them for him without delay and bring them to my chamber −" She said calmly; her servant blinked, shocked and nodded, immediately disappearing behind the door.

Despite what she had learned and the rage she felt, she was pleased − the roles had been reversed and although her husband was not her prisoner, he was attached to her and was forced to stay in a place that disgusted him.

Good, she thought.

She wanted him to feel what she had felt during the month she had spent in King's Landing, imprisoned by his mother and grandfather.

"− I wish to spend this afternoon with my mother − if you so desire, I can show you in which chamber the library is located −" She said lightly, without looking at him however, taking a bite of bread spread with confiture. Her husband rolled his eyes, displeased.

"I have no intention of leaving your quarters." He replied indifferently.

She raised her eyebrows in amusement at his words.

"You are not my prisoner, uncle. You can walk and fly wherever you please. Holding someone by force is not in my nature." She murmured softly − her husband gave her one tired look.

She smiled at him in a way from which he swallowed hard and looked away, sighing heavily.

He knew she was enraged and he wasn't going to get in her way.

One of the aspects she enjoyed upon returning home was that she had finally retrieved all her robes; her uncle looked at her from the side, watching as her servants helped her put on a golden gown with long black sleeves that reached the ground.

"− make braids around my head − my husband adores it when I wear this hairstyle, is he not? −" She sneered, glancing at him over her shoulder. She only saw him roll his eyes, running his hand over his face, not saying a word.

He knew he had to endure everything she was throwing at him with humility if he didn't want to make his already bad situation worse.

She had no idea what he could do to regain her favour, her trust, the respect she had for him.

"− have a pleasant day, husband −" She threw over her shoulder, leaving him alone in the chamber, recognising that she did not care what he did.

As she stepped into her mother's quarters, Rhaenyra rose from her seat, putting down the quill she held in her hand, approaching her with surprise and uncertainty written on her face.

"− is it true? − are you planning to stay in Dragonstone? −" She asked in a trembling voice − she smiled and nodded. Her mother sighed in relief and walked over to her, embracing her tightly with her arms, snuggling her head into her neck.

They pulled away from each other after a moment, her hands gripping her cheeks, her thumbs stroking her skin as if she remembered a time when she was still a small child.

"− let's sit down −"

Being in her chamber again was like a dream to her − she couldn't believe she was sitting at the same table again, surrounded by the same furniture and bed with a red curtain, with the windows open to a view of the great sea.

"− does he treat you well? −" She asked suddenly, taking her hand in her own.

Her mother's question surprised her, but it also filled her heart with warmth and emotion.

"− I − yes − despite his harsh, difficult nature −"

"− so how did he let this happen? −" She asked, exposing a part of her wrist with her thumb, where her pale scar was clearly visible. She swallowed loudly, not knowing what to answer her.

She wanted to tell her about the moon tea, but hesitated.

She didn't want her to think that her husband knew about it, that he was a worse person than she assumed.

It devastated her to think that she still had to tell half-truths.

"− I did it as an act of desperation − when he found out he wouldn't leave my side for weeks − he wouldn't let anyone but himself, Helaena and the maester cross the threshold of my quarters − he let me see Luke −" She muttered, looking at her at last. Her mother lowered her gaze, sighing quietly, tired and pale.

"− when Daemon passed on your words to me, I was furious − I didn't understand how you could do this to me −" She began and fell silent, closing her eyelids for a moment.

She felt an all-consuming shame at the thought that she had failed and disappointed her as a daughter.

"− forgive me − I would never question your rights if it were only about you − but you know very well that it is not −" She said cautiously − her mother lifted her gaze to her and nodded.

"− I know −"

They fell silent for a moment.

"− can I trust him? − your husband − and my brother −" Her mother asked coldly; she raised her gaze to her, surprised to feel that her lips involuntarily parted.

I don't know.

"− yes −" She muttered. "− he refused Maris Baratheon to take her as his wife − he himself proposed a form of compromise, and his elder brother supported him − Aegon is not a good man, but he cares about his children − he knows he will not leave them a secure, safe throne − just as you would not leave it to your sons −"

They said no more.

She spent some more time with her, just holding her hand, wordlessly trying to comfort her, thinking with weariness that she had to give up everything that was rightfully hers.

She finally decided to take pity on her husband and return to her chamber, not wanting to leave him alone for so long in a state of anxiety and uncertainty.

She felt her heart stop as she stepped into her quarters and saw no one inside − a cold shiver ran down her spine at the thought of him leaving her.

He had returned to King's Landing without her.

She pressed her lips together, involuntarily feeling her heart begin to pound like mad with pain and sadness, her eyes glazed over with tears that she was ashamed of, thinking it shouldn't hurt so much, and yet it did.

She looked around the room quickly, looking for a letter or anything else that might say he had left her some word, but found nothing of the sort; she shuddered when she heard someone's dim voices in the distance and walked over to the window.

Her father and her uncle stood facing each other on the beach with their hands folded behind their backs, discussing something animatedly, a clear tension between them.

She felt regret towards herself, her body filled with an overwhelming relief that he had not left her, that he had not betrayed her again.

She thought the gods had been cruel, allowing her to love this man so deeply.

She blinked, startled, when she heard the door from her chamber open; she turned and saw the figure of her eldest brother, who only spoke up when they heard a loud clatter of wood behind them.

"− how could you do this? − choose him over us? −" He growled with regret, resentment and disappointment, his big brown eyes filled with anger and pain from which she felt a tightening in her throat. She furrowed her brow and shook her head.

"− we both know what the truth is − you can't rule with lies −" She replied, shrugging her shoulders; Jace moved towards her and she flinched all over, surprised at how pale he was, his lips tightened into a thin line − she had the impression he was trembling all over.

"− this was my inheritance − my throne − my crown − and you chose him, a man who did not write back to your letters for eight years, who humiliated you by calling you a bastard, and you shared a bed with him the first night you saw him, like some... −" He didn't finish and fell silent, the word he wanted to say stuck deep in his throat. She felt her lower lip tremble at his accusation, her eyebrows arching in pain and anger, her eyes red from tears of shame and humiliation.

"− say it − you've already spoken the word in your mind −" She sneered, lifting her chin higher, challenging him.

"− I won't call you an unworthy name −" He muttered lowly, and she laughed involuntarily at his words, shaking her head.

"− you think that makes you a better man? − look at this −" She hissed, lifting her hand up, exposing her wrist tugging impatiently at the material of her black sleeve. "− here is what I have done for you and for your crown − should I do it again? −"

She swallowed loudly, surprised when she noticed that something in her brother's expression had changed − Jace had grabbed her wrist and locked it between his fingers, but there was no aggression in the gesture, his thumb stroking her smooth, bare skin.

They stared at each other for a moment, breathing loudly; she felt that there was a kind of tension between them from which her heart was pounding like mad, but she wasn't sure what it was caused by; something in his gaze, in his brown, misty eyes and parted lips, made her feel hot.

"− do you love him more than our mother? − than Luke, than Joffrey? − than me? −" He asked in a trembling voice and she shook her head, not understanding what he meant.

"− Jace − it's a different kind of love − I −"

"− what kind? −" He hissed. "− the kind where you're constantly betrayed? − in which someone mocks your parentage? − locks you up like some prisoner? −"

Gods.

"− Jace −" She gasped, feeling that something in his questions, in his gaze, in what he wanted to hear from her had broken her down, her whole body began to quiver.

She shuddered as he approached her suddenly, as his free hand cupped her warm cheeks, as his forehead pressed against hers, his voice trembling as the words left his throat like a river.

"− I am your oldest brother − you were born to be mine − I would be good to you − you know I would −"

"− brother, what are you saying? − you had no objections when my mother decided to marry me to Ronnel −" She said disapprovingly, furrowing her brow in anger.

"− it was our mother's decision − how could I oppose her? −" He asked with a frown, as if he really believed what he was saying, a cold shiver ran through her body as his thumb ran over the soft skin of her cheek, hot with emotion.

"− you have never loved me − not in this way, we both know it well − you have always preferred to lie to yourself rather than face the truth − you do not look at me as the woman you desire, but as an inheritance that was taken from you −" She said with pain, feeling that what he was saying was not due to any deep feeling he had for her, but to his anger that she was not waiting for him docilely like his throne and his crown.

Her brother swallowed hard at her words, his hot, ragged breath enveloping the skin of her face.

"− when you were born, our mother told me that you might be my future wife − and I always, always saw you this way −"

"− you mocked me with Aegon −"

"− I craved his attention − he was older and impressed me − didn't you do anything you regretted as a child? −" He muttered wearily; she felt her heart stop at his words, a drop of cold sweat run down the back of her neck.

What was she supposed to answer him?

"− brother − I am married to another man − of my own free will −"

"− you are a traitor −"

"− how dare you −"

"− you are a traitor, but I still am unable to hate you −"

A squeal of terror stuck in her throat, her body froze completely as his lips pressed against hers in a greedy, hot, sticky kiss, his fingers digging into the soft skin of her cheeks, refusing to let her move away.

She cried out and pushed him away − before he could make any move her hand slapped him in the face so hard that he took a few steps back, clutching his red cheek, panting heavily.

"− get out −" She muttered, placing her hand over her heart, feeling as if it was about to burst out of her chest. "− get out of my chamber, brother − I'll forget this...conversation ever took place −"

Jace swallowed hard, horrified and ashamed, as if it had only now occurred to him what he had actually done.

What would Baela say if she saw this?

It seemed to him that they both couldn't believe he had done it − Jace had turned and walked out, leaving behind an open door and a complete blank in her mind.

She thought he wanted to take it out on their uncle, to take away something that belonged to him.

That she was just an object for him on which he had decided to vent.

She thought with pain that he, unlike her husband, had never tried to truly understand her.

When her uncle returned to her chamber they did not exchange a word − he seemed distracted and frustrated to her. He took one of the books from the bookshelf and sat by the fireplace, pretending to read. She lowered her gaze, playing with her fingers, thinking only of the fact that if she hid it from him, she would be just like him.

She didn't know for a long time how she should put it into words, but she figured he'd be furious either way.

"− Jace kissed me − on the lips −" She muttered, glancing at him fearfully − his eye opened wide, looking at her in disbelief, his jaw clenched in such a way that a shudder went through her.

He was silent for a moment, as if he had run out of words, which frightened her even more.

"− he did WHAT? −" He growled, closing the book with a loud slam, pulling himself up from his seat like an enraged bear.

"− he kissed me − grief and humiliation took his mind away − I − wait − gods −" She muttered, standing up as soon as he headed towards the door, which he opened with a loud clatter, running out into the corridor after him.

"− Aemond − no, no, no − stop! −" She hissed, grabbing his arm, but he pulled away from her, opening door after door until he found himself in the right room − Jace and Beala were sitting together at a table, apparently discussing something.

Her older brother rose from his seat and turned pale at the sight of them, horrified.

Her husband walked into his quarters with a wide, menacing smile, exactly the same one he bestowed on him and Luke when they saw him duelling with Criston Cole in King's Landing. He put his hands behind his back, shifting his body weight to one leg, cocking his head.

"− haven't you learned yet not to take what's not yours? − hm? −"

"− Aemond −" She said warningly, but her uncle didn't listen to her, his healthy eye wide open, as if he was just waiting for this.

An opportunity for confrontation.

"− your sister when we were children told me that she never desired you as a man − she knew even then that you were a cunt −" He sneered amused, revealing his teeth in a wide grin full of feigned recognition.

"− Aemond, that's enough −"

"− how dare you? − you are a guest under our roof − get out −" Baela thundered.

She felt a squeeze in her heart at the thought that she knew nothing.

She moved ahead and stood in front of her husband, looking at him with furrowed brows.

"− we are leaving −"

"− no − I'm speaking with my nephew −"

"− we are leaving, uncle, or I swear I will never return with you to King's Landing −"

"− so I'll stay here with you − Jace as ruler of Dragonstone will surely be delighted to host us, won't he? − he seems to have a weakness for you, sweet wife −" He murmured in a voice filled with poison, from which a strong shiver ran along her back.

"− Jace, say something at last! −" Baela hissed, furious that her betrothed simply looked at their uncle and remained silent, unable to get a word out.

"− I made a mistake − I shouldn't have done it, forgive me − I −" He directed his words to her, to his sister, sadness and regret in his gaze, from which she involuntarily felt sympathy.

"− you made a mistake? − I seem to be able to understand the feeling − I have made a similar one many times, as well as others, even worse ones −" Her husband hissed, gripping her cheeks in his hand − her voice stuck in her throat as his fleshy lips clung to hers in an aggressive, loud kiss, his tongue forced its way deep into her throat.

She sighed as he turned her back to him, pressing her brutally against his chest and grabbed her neck − she grasped his wrist as his free hand slid down her lower abdomen, his fingers dug into the material of her gown beneath which her womanhood lay, she could feel his hot breath on her cheek.

"− so beautiful, isn't she, nephew? − I couldn't help myself either − I can't count how many times I took her − how many times I have filled her with my seed − right here −" He breathed out into her ear and she closed her eyes, feeling with horror and disbelief that her nipples had hardened, that her walls had clenched around nothing at his embarrassing words, feeling his finger tease what lay between her thighs despite her resistance.

"− u-uncle − stop −" She muttered, a moan stuck in her throat as she felt his erection behind her throb hard at her words, pushing against her buttocks, his fingertips dug deep into her folds hidden beneath the fabric.

Gods, he wanted her brother to watch this.

Baela looked at Jace as if she suddenly understood everything, her eyebrows arched in pain and disbelief.

"− what did you do? −" She asked quietly, her older brother shook his head, all red, turning his face away, unable to look at it.

"− I −" He didn't finish; her uncle let her go immediately, panting loudly as she did when Daemon walked into the chamber, looking at them, then at Jace and his daughter.

He grinned.

"− what is the meaning of this...commotion? − hm? −" He asked, raising his eyebrows in amusement and mockery; she looked away and glanced at her uncle, shaking her head with furrowed brows, letting him know that he was to remain silent.

Her husband pressed his lips into a thin line, but did not utter a word.

They stood in awkward silence, with only the quiet fizzle of the blazing fire in the fireplace around them.

"Mmm." Her husband hummed and turned away, heading for the door. Not knowing what to do, she simply moved after him, casting only one apologetic glance at Baela.

When they finally returned to her chamber she let out a loud breath.

"− what was that supposed to mean? −" She asked in frustration, wondering what had possessed him.

She tried not to think about how embarrassingly wet she was now.

"− I don't know what you're referring to, wife − I've merely shown my nephew the depth of my understanding as to his desire −" He grinned, grabbing a jug full of wine, pouring himself a full cup of it.

She licked her lower lip in impatience, standing still and watching him − their gazes met as he raised the goblet to his lips and took a deep sip from it.

"− what − are you wet now? −" He sneered and she felt a hot wave of shame surge through her body − she felt like her cheeks had turned scarlet.

"− don't mock me − this was humiliating −" She growled, furrowing her brow, a smirk on his face that she didn't like.

"− if you say so, wife −" He muttered, approaching her lazily, playing with his cup in his hand, raising it to his lips again "− I, however, think you'd rather I did something else −"

He said and took another sip of wine, swallowing it loudly, towering over her with a look from which a pleasant shiver ran through her core.

"− I think you'd rather I fucked you good in front of him − for me to slip my fingers under your skirt and sink them into your leaking cunt −" He murmured, leaning over her so that the tips of their noses were almost touching, her walls swelling all over at his words − she felt a drop of her own wetness run down her thigh.

"− am I wrong? −" He asked, cocking his head curiously, taking another sip of wine from his goblet without taking his eyes off her.

She drew in a loud breath as he set his cup down on the table standing beside them with a loud clang of steel, taking a step towards her, his lips parted in desire.

Gods, no.

"− don't touch me −"

She saw him squint his eyes as he hesitated, his nostrils flaring in accelerated breath.

She knew he was hard.

She knew he wanted to soften her up.

"Mmm."

She immediately summoned her servant wishing that she would help her pull off her gown and let her hair down. After this, she lay down in bed, covering herself with thick furs, not looking at him or speaking a word to him. She swallowed hard when she heard him lie down right next to her and closed her eyelids when she felt his hot breath on her neck.

She thought he would try to touch her, embrace her and give her a reason to push him away, but he just lay behind her back, driving her crazy.

She waited for some time, listening to his quiet breathing, and decided that he was surely asleep by now; her hand slipped silently into the material of her nightgown, lifting it up. She swallowed quietly, tightening her lips as her fingers sank into her leaking, soft, hot womanhood begging to be fulfilled, teasing and squeezing the bud between its fleshy folds.

She felt herself grow hot, her heart began to pound like mad at the indecent idea that these was his hand touching her in front of Jace, making him watch, wanting him to see what her fulfilment looked like.

She felt her walls clench greedily around nothing at the thought, her fingers teasing the spot between her puffy folds with circular, intense strokes.

Involuntarily, her hips began to rock softly to the rhythm of the flicks of her own fingers, she felt that she was wonderfully close to fulfilment.

"− what are you doing? −" She heard his low, cool voice and froze completely. She swallowed hard, sliding her hand, sticky with her own moisture from between her thighs, and remained silent, unwilling to give him the satisfaction.

"− go on −" He said in a hoarse, deep voice from which a shiver went down her spine. She heard a rustling behind her and then the sticky sound of skin slapping against skin − his hot breathing quickened, heavy and ragged. "− come on −"

She couldn't help herself; his fingers dug into her swollen folds again causing a wave of heat to pass through her body − she felt pleasant tickling sensations in her lips, fingertips and nipples. She moaned quietly when she felt his nose pressed against her hair, her hips involuntarily began to rock when she heard him begin to pant, the splats behind her getting louder, louder and louder.

"− fuck − you know I'd lick you good there − hm? −" He sighed and she felt her whole body quiver, her fingers teasing her puffy pearl all sticky from her own wetness.

"− mhgm −" She whined, tilting her head back, feeling his hot, uneven breath on her ear, his swollen, wet lips run down her neck.

"− are you leaking? − are you leaking at the thought of how good I would make you feel? − at the thought of your brother watching me fuck his little sister? −" He breathed out, and she moaned loudly as she felt a wonderful, relieved sensation at his words, her fulfilment shaking her like a hot, tickling wave.

Her slit pulsed all under her fingers as her own moisture leaked out of her, she shuddered when she felt his warm, rough tongue run across the bare skin of her neck, leaving a slick, wet mark on it.

"− fuck, Rheanys −" He muttered and after a moment he gasped − she felt something sticky and warm spurt out onto the back of her nightgown.

His seed.

Gods.

She closed her eyelids, trying to calm her breathing, furious at herself and her weakness.

"− let me embrace you −"

"− no −"

She heard him huff, sighing heavily, his face still sunk into her neck.

"− move away, uncle −"

"− I inhale the wonderful scent of vanilla after having experienced fulfilment with my wife −"

"− your wife does not wish for this −"

"− sleep −"

She pressed her lips together and swallowed hard, thinking with frustration that she hated him with all her heart.

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond smut #aemond angst #aemond fanfic #canon aemond #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen angst #aemond #aemond one eye #prince aemond #hotd fanfic #prince aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #aemond x original female character #aemond x original character #aemond x female #aemond hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fandom #hotd fic #hotd fanfiction #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell smut #ewan mitchell angst #ewan mitchell fanfiction #ewan mitchell fanfic #aemond x niece

[nahoney22]

Hi!! Congratulations on 4,500 followers, you deserve it and SO MUCH MORE!! If you’re interested and comfortable of course, can I request from the fluff prompts “I like your eyes” and from the NFSW prompts “I wanna make love to you” and “you can be a little rougher” with Echo please? I love him and I’m so happy he made an appearance today, he deserves the sweetest and sensual things, thank you!!♥️✨

Moonlight***

🫧 Pairing: Echo X Gender Neutral Reader

word count: 1.6k

prompts:

“I like your eyes.”

“I want to make love to you.”

“You can be a little rougher.”

Summary: The flirtatious gazes and gestures finally leads to something more; but why is Echo holding back?

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only, Explicit Sexual Content and Language, Sex, Multiple Positions, Nervous Echo, Reassuring Reader, Dirty Talk, Praising, Light Hair Pulling, Light Rough Sex, Aftercare, Creampie, Cuddling, Kissing, Mutual Pining, Spoiler Free. NSFW under the cut.

Authors note: Cheeky asking for 3 prompts when I said you’re only allowed 2… buuuuut I’m feeling generous 😌🩶 and you didn’t specify pronouns so I defaulted to GN so I hope that’s okay?🩶

He stands before you, his breath dancing with yours as you both find refuge in a secluded corner, shielded from the prying eyes of the others. "You look so good tonight," Echo murmurs softly, his hand gently resting on your waist, pulling you closer. "It almost feels a shame to undress you."

A flush rises to your cheeks at his compliment, and you bite your lip, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. "Perhaps... but I sense this is something you've desired for quite some time, Sir," you whisper huskily, before claiming his lips with your own, feeling a rush of excitement as he presses you against the wall.

After the consistent exchange of flirtatious glances and the occasional suggestive remarks after months, the tension between you and Echo finally reached its boiling point. Unable to resist any longer, you whispered in his ear for him to follow you after the batch decided to have celebratory drinks at a rather upscale bar.

As you both slipped away, your hands couldn’t stay off each other. "I got us a room… do you want to do this?" you asked, your words muffled by the heat of his breath against your lips, followed by a gasp as he trailed kisses from your jaw down to your neck.

"Absolutely," he replied, his smirk obvious against your exposed skin, sending shivers down your spine. "Just lead the way."

Taking his hand and ensuring the others didn't see (not that it was any of their business anyway), you led him up to the room, a mixture of excitement and a touch of anxiety coursing through you as you entered. You were both really doing this.

When the door hissed closed behind you both, you looked at each other, the realization that you were finally alone together hitting you.

Silently, he unclipped all of his armor pieces and set them aside, you doing the same with your gear, but also slipping off your shirt. Echo gazed at you, nothing but awe in his eyes.

You chuckled at his reaction and pointed to your face. "My eyes are up here, handsome."

"Well, that’s good to know because…” he smirked as he approached, a soft hand cupping your cheek as his scomp rested on your hip, “…I like your eyes."

He pulls you closer, both consumed by another fiery kiss until you tumble onto the bed with him falling on top of you, his hand exploring your chest, touching you in all the places you've fantasized about.

Shedding the remainder of your clothes and Echo's, he sits between your legs, admiring you for a moment. "I feel so lucky right now."

"As do I," you grin, your lips swollen and eyes filled with desire as you take in his form. However, when you briefly glance at his cybernetics, you notice him shift uncomfortably. He doesn't say anything, instead chuckling and focusing on his hand's work. Slipping between your legs, you gasp his name as he expertly caresses your sex with precision and tenderness.

"Mmm, do you like that, darling?" he whispers in your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "Do you enjoy it when I touch you there?"

"Y-yes, oh yes, Echo," you moan, your skin ablaze with desire as he swiftly brings you to climax, his words of praise and encouragement sending you soaring to cloud nine.

Your gaze drifts to his throbbing cock beside you, and you smirk as you reach out, taking it in your hand. His reaction is immediate—a gasp followed by a deep groan. "Such a beautiful cock," you purr, stroking along its length as his movements between your legs intensify.

Desiring to maintain eye contact as you pleasure him, you do struggle to keep your gaze fixed on him. Your eyelids grow heavy as the impending orgasm coils tightly within your core, causing your back to arch in response to his touch. He's biting his lip, gasping, his breaths deep and heavy as his hips grind into your soft palm.

"I want to make love to you," he breathes, and you eagerly comply with his request, releasing his cock and pulling his lips back down to yours, his member pressing against your stomach as his tongue eagerly explores your mouth.

"Then love me, Echo," you pant, your voice filled with longing. "Love me."

He groans in response, taking hold of his cock as he positions himself at your entrance, teasing you with the gentle rub of his tip.

He locks eyes with you as he slowly sheathes into you, filling you gloriously. "Fuck, yes—just… just like that," you moan, sitting up on your elbows, watching as his tip disappears inside you.

As you lay back on the bed, Echo places his hand on your thigh, spreading your legs an inch wider as he begins to rut inside you, his movements slow and tender. "This is all for you, darling… all for you," he whispers.

Your eyes flutter closed, savouring the sensation of his stiff cock pushing slow and deep inside you, your body tightening around his girth. But you crave more. You want him to love you passionately, yet at this moment, he's being too delicate.

"Faster, Echo, fuck me faster, baby," you moan, feeling him pick up the pace. But as you open your eyes, you see him deep in concentration.

"You can be a little rougher," you suggest, prompting him to still his movements, his cock remaining warm inside you.

Raising a brow at his concern, you reassure him, "You won't hurt me. I trust you. You can fuck me however you want."

His eyes flash with understanding, and suddenly, both of your legs are draped over one of his shoulders as he bends you almost in half, before he starts slamming down into you with increasing force, eliciting moans that scratch at your throat as he becomes more demanding.

Your hands grip at his shoulders, gasping as pleasure floods your senses, the sounds of his balls slapping against your skin reverberating around the room. "Is this rough enough for you, darling? Do you like it nice and hard?" he taunts, delivering a complete switch-up, bordering on rough yet remaining aware that he will be gentle if you ask him to be.

"Yes! Stars, yes!" you cry out in ecstasy, your legs aching from the intense position, but the pleasure is undeniably worth it.

"So perfect, feel so good around my cock. Can’t believe I waited so long to fuck you," he murmurs, his hand gripping your thigh tightly, his scomp ensuring your legs stay positioned over his shoulders. After another minute of him fucking you so good, he releases you, panting before flipping you onto your stomach.

Your face is buried in the duvet, hands gripping tight as he positions himself at your entrance again before sliding in. "O-oh, Echo!"

"That’s it, my beauty," he whispers, leaning over you to kiss between your shoulder blades. "Is this okay?"

It's more than okay. He's more than okay.

"Yes, don’t stop—don’t stop until you cum inside me, Echo," you beg, earning a sensual chuckle in return as he thrusts into you, his scomp resting on the base of your back and the other tangling in your hair, tassels of hair scrunching between his fingers as he delivers back shots like you’ve never experienced before.

With a steady pace and sharp, precise thrusts, your eyes sting from the intensity of him stretching you open and lightly tugging at your hair. "M-More."

He shifts from being on both knees to kneeling on just one, finding a better rhythm as he continues to plow into you, releasing your hair and placing his hand on your shoulder, pulling you back into him so you can meet his thrusts as he pounds you into the bed.

Stars blur your vision once again, your moans muffled by the duvet as he takes you from behind. You can feel your orgasm building again, and by his ragged breaths, you know he is too.

You're moved again, this time onto your side as he slides in behind you, keeping your leg raised in the air as his arms wrap around you, sliding into your slick hole effortlessly. Your gazes lock as he cups your jaw with his hand. "Are you close, darling? I'm—fuck—I'm not going to last much longer."

You nod feverishly, biting your lip as sweat glistens on your body. "Yes, yes, yes, please cum in me, Echo. I need you."

"I've got you," he murmurs, leaning in to tenderly kiss you, his thrusts becoming labored. "I love you so much."

Your arousal peaks at his words, and you whimper your reply into his mouth as you feel his seed fill you up and drain out of you. "I love you too, Echo."

Panting, you reach your climax, your body trembling, but he holds you close, murmuring softly in your ear. "That's it... you did so well." He kisses the side of your head as he slips out of you, the sensation lewd but a wave of tiredness washing over you.

When Echo returns from the refresher after saying he was going to get something to freshen you up, he pauses, his gaze lingering on you as you lie in bed, bathed in moonlight filtering through the blinds, casting shadows over your body.

Sensing his presence, your eyes flutter open, and you warmly smile at him. "See something you like?"

"Absolutely," he chuckles, stepping closer and handing you a cloth and towel. After you freshen up, you curl up under the duvet, Echo slipping in beside you. You nestle into his embrace, the silence between you comfortable.

But as you wince while shifting, he immediately panics. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, sweetie," you reassure him softly, kissing his cheek. "I'm just a bit tender. It's been a while," you admit sheepishly.

"Well… if you're sure," he says softly, visibly relaxing.

"I'm sure. I loved tonight. Thank you for being careful with me," you smile, and Echo can't help but plant a kiss on your hair, holding you close until the two of you fall asleep after a perfect night, at long last.

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog g @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @imalovernotahater @sithstrings @lulalovez @thiswitchloves9904

#echo x reader #the bad batch #the bad batch echo #the bad batch echo x reader #tbb echo x reader #tbb #bad batch #echo smut

[demonslayedher]

Nerdy cultural details about the word "Hashira"

Some details can be hard to pick up without context or in translation. I recently went over a few details about the Hashira's names, Breaths, or symbols, but today I want to focus on the word "Hashira."

To get this out of the way, I use "Pillar" all over this blog because I thought that's what they were called. I was astounded that phrase was not translated, as it is a (somewhat rare) case of a one-to-one translation equivalent. They are the pillars that support the Demon Slayer Corp, after all. The kanji for it (柱) very literally means "pillar" in any modern day Japanese to English dictionary. But since you all know the word "Hashira," let's climb up and see where it takes us! First, the kanji itself (brought over from China and given the Japanese pronunciation "hashira," based on the existing spoken Japanese language), is composed of 木 for "tree" and 主 for "master" or "main/principal," among other semi-literal or more widely applicable possible meanings in modern kanji dictionaries. However, Prof. Owada Tetsuo, a retired university professor who published an unofficial book of his own Kimetsu no Yaiba interpretations based on Japanese demon slaying folklore, points out that 主 can also be interpreted as a still flame atop a candlestick, and that 柱 (hashira) is a tree that cannot be moved. (I'll continue to use a lot of Prof. Owada's details in this explanation, as well as details I have picked up in other research.) That makes 柱 closely associated with holy trees found in, or treated as, Shinto shrines throughout Japan. As Shinto is a nature-based belief system, trees are often something that a kami (deity) will inhabit. Keep Shinto in mind, because we're going to focus on that a lot.

Before that, let's finish up with the kanji 柱. According to the first official fanbook, there is an upper limit of nine Hashira because there are nine strokes in the 柱 kanji. (See this dictionary entry for a breakdown of those nine strokes.)

Now that the easy official tidbit is out of the way, back to the Shinto fun stuff and conjecture! We need to dive a bit more into the spoken Japanese language, from which a lot of Shinto terms derive. For starters, the Japanese language uses counter words for when you say a certain number of beings or objects. You could think of this as "a sheet of paper" or "three rolls of tape." It is an annoying part of starting out your study of the language because there are a lot to memorize based on sizes, shapes, types of animals, etc. Deities also have their own counter word: 柱 (hashira). This goes to show how the Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corp are something more than human, what with how much power they possess.

Now if we think about the pronunciation of the spoken Japanese word from long before a Chinese written character was assigned to it, the "hashi" of "hashira" is a "bridge." Clever ones among you might know that "hashi" also means "chopsticks." But even chopsticks have the same effect as a bridge! They serve as a connection, bridging the gap between you and what was another living thing, that which will become a part of you as your sustenance. "Hashira," as pillars, are likewise something that serve as a connection, in this case, a vertical one. They are that which connect us with the heavens, or in the case of the Demon Slayer Corp, they bridge the gap between the limits of human strength and the inhuman strength of demons.

As another Shinto tie, one of the connections that Prof. Owada and I both made was that there are nine pillars that support the main sanctuary in shrine architecture like that of Izumo Taisha Grand Shrine. Or rather, in the case of at least one of the historical iterations of Izumo Taisha, there were nine groups of three massive tree trunks each, resulting in a shrine over 48 meters in height (see here for photos of how big the remains of those pillars are and how exciting the archaeology is). These pillars give you a sense of awe for just how powerful pillars can be, especially when you have a spread of nine to distribute the weight. Now, there's more that Prof. Owada and I would both say about how Izumo Taisha also ties in with the "Ubuyashiki" surname or the "yakata" title by which the Hashira address him, but that's a dose of nerdery for some other time.

#kny nerdery #kny reference #kny references #I forget which tag and I'm sticking it in there for the official fanbook bit #otherwise this is what My Research makes possible #thank you My Research #and thank you Prof. Owada's Research even though I think you're stretching too far to make connections #for the sake of talking about other nerdy folklore stuff in a KnY themed book

[timetothirst]

Almost

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x GN reader

Inspired by this post that hasn’t left my head since I first saw it

Tags: Canon typical violence, you almost die, Ghost is soft in his own weird way, confessions, everyone needs therapy, i’m not British but i’m using British slang because it’s Simon’s POV, if i got any military stuff wrong no I didn’t, sad Ghost

Rating: M for violence and language

—————

You were dying when Ghost realized he loved you.

It started the same as it always did whenever he had to meet someone new, with a quick handshake and a short introduction before he inevitably found an excuse to walk away as soon as possible. He didn’t dislike you, not necessarily, but he was no social butterfly. You were just another face to him, that was all.

Until you weren’t.

He was having trouble sleeping. That was nothing unusual, though. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d got a full eight hours without some kind of interruption, whether it be an owl outside his window that wouldn’t shut up, an inability to get comfortable because of the countless aches in his body, his thoughts just being too damn loud, or something else entirely. Whenever this happened, he’d make his way to the common room and find some way to kill the time while he waited for everyone else, maybe even get breakfast started or put the kettle on if he was feeling nice.

It was on one of those nights, after he’d finished rummaging through the fridge looking for a decent snack, that he saw you. He went to sit on the couch, and there you were. He didn’t realize it was you at first and tensed up, instinctively reaching for his combat knife (which wasn’t there, of course, since he was in his sleep clothes). At first he was baffled. How did he not notice you coming in? He wasn’t losing his edge, was he? Letting his guard down?

But then he saw the half-eaten packet of crisps in front of you and realized you’d been there the entire time, sitting in the dark, in complete silence.

“Fuckin’ hell…say somethin’ next time, yeah?” He told you, finally allowing himself to exhale.

“Sorry, I didn’t know whether or not you were going back to your room, and I didn’t want to bug you, so-“

“S’fine.” He interrupted with a wave of his hand, sitting on the opposite end of the couch and grabbing the remote.

—————

“Am I missing something here? Why’s he acting so weird all of a sudden?” You asked, staring at the screen in confusion. This was the third question you’d asked in as many minutes, but Ghost didn’t seem to mind. At the very least, he wasn’t giving you death stares or walking away from you, so you figured it was okay.

“Pon farr.” He stated, not even glancing over.

“Am I supposed to know what that means? It sounds like a weird disease…” Ghost side-eyed you as you said this and scoffed quietly.

“No, it’s not a- look, just watch, will you? They’re about to explain it.”

You rolled your eyes, but did as he said anyway.

“Oh my god…so, he can only have sex once every seven years? And if he doesn’t, he’ll just…get really pissed off and fuckin’ die?” You laughed in disbelief, then ate the last of your crisps and tossed the empty packet into the trash.

“Nah, Vulcans can mate whenever they want. Pon farr’s just a biological thing that causes…well, s’ called plak-tow, but it translates to ‘blood fever.’ Means they’ll go mad if they don’t-“

You couldn’t help but snicker, slapping your hand over your mouth with a snort when Ghost’s head snapped toward you. He looked at you with an expression that could melt steel, which would have scared you shitless under any other circumstances.

“…Seen this one.” He grumbled as an explanation, looking away from you and back at the TV screen. He crossed his arms, his face hardening into its usual scowl.

“Yeah, I can tell.”

You spent the rest of the night asking Ghost increasingly complicated questions about the show, and despite his exasperated sighs and frequent eye rolls, he answered every single one.

—————

He just kept running into you, it seemed. Sparring, target practice, and of course, your late night binges of Star Trek, whenever the two of you happened to be up at the same ungodly hour. You sat on your designated couch cushions and laughed at the awful special effects as Ghost told you to ‘shut it and watch,’ though he was sure you could see him smiling through the fabric of his mask.

As much as he hated to admit it, as cliché as it sounded, his days really were a bit brighter with you around. You filled the silence when nothing else did, joked with him, spent time with him…he’d even noticed a few little things you had started doing, things that were specifically for him. Like the night he’d taken out a pack of smokes, only to realize that he’d lost his lighter. He groaned in annoyance and went to put them away, but then, there you were, holding out a lighter of your own, the small flame reflecting in your eyes.

“The lads and I must be a bad influence, eh? I swear I remember you tellin’ me that you don’t smoke.” He’d said to you after rolling up his mask just past his lips and taking a puff of his cigarette.

“I don’t. But you do.” You replied casually, shrugging as if you’d just said the most obvious thing in the world.

“And with the way you keep losing your lighters everywhere, you’re probably spending half your paycheck replacing them!” You added, giving him a playful punch on the shoulder.

Ghost rolled his eyes and told you to piss off, but he never bought another lighter after that.

—————

Price started pairing the two of you together on missions; citing the fact that you got along, as well as the way your combination of skills made you effective and deadly in the field. You were a good team, that was all. You got things done, and you got them done well, no matter the circumstances.

And then everything went to shit.

You had already suffered a dislocated shoulder and pretty bad slash wound, both to your dominant arm, so you were stuck clutching a pistol in one hand while the other dangled uselessly at your side. Almost all of the enemies had been taken care of at that point, but you were making a final sweep of the building in search of any stragglers.

Two seconds. Two goddamn seconds he looked away from you, but that was all it took. Five gunshots rang out in short succession, no doubt from an assault rifle of some kind. You screamed, shot a single round from your pistol, and two bodies thudded to the floor.

Ghost’s heart dropped. He charged into the room, looking around frantically. As badly as he wanted to rush to your side right that second, he knew he had to assess the situation first. He’d be of no use to you if he was dead, after all. The first thing he noticed was that you were breathing, and your attacker wasn’t, probably because they had a sizable hole in the side of their head. Ghost dropped to his knees next to you, trying to calm himself enough to properly check your wounds.

You looked so small lying there, curled up on your side with your face contorted in pain. A shudder wracked your body, blood beginning to pool as Ghost placed a hand on your shoulder. He gritted his teeth and turned you over. As expected, you screamed bloody murder, the movement causing your body to be jostled.

“Shit. Shitshitshitshit-” He muttered, his hands hovering over your body. Before he dared to do anything else, he reached for his radio.

“Bravo 0-7 calling for immediate medvac. Repeat, immediate medvac.” He spoke, unable to hide the tremor in his voice.

“Acknowledged. Requesting location.” A voice crackled over the speaker. He barked back your coordinates, along with an order to hurry the fuck up before disconnecting and turning his attention back to you.

“This is gonna hurt.” He warned.

He undid your vest, and his large hand immediately made contact with the most serious of your injuries, that being the bullet wound in your side. He pressed down hard in an attempt to staunch the bleeding as best he could, and your scream of pain was enough to make him feel as though he’d been shot himself. You seemed too shocked to speak, your breath coming out in short gasps, punctuated by anguished sobs.

“Shh. I know, I know…hey- look at me, yeah? Just keep lookin’ at me.”

Ghost couldn’t remember the last time he felt helpless. But here, now, as he stared down at you, it was the only thing he could feel. He wished he could be angry instead, but right now there was no one to direct that anger towards. Your attacker was lucky you’d managed to kill them before he got the chance to, or he’d have beaten them into a pulp with his bare hands and left them to rot where they fell as punishment for even fucking looking at you.

“Ghost-” You croaked out, your bleary eyes focusing on him momentarily. He shook his head.

“Simon.” He whispered, his own name feeling foreign on his tongue. You stared at him in confusion for a moment, but then your eyebrows raised and a look of realization appeared on your face.

“S…Simon?” You repeated. He nodded, tried to smile at you despite everything.

“Yeah…Simon.”

You smiled back through your tears and let out a laugh that quickly turned into a pained wheeze. “That bad, huh?”

Simon didn’t reply. He didn’t trust himself to. You’d see right through it if he lied, he was sure of it, but if he told the truth, he knew he’d break down on the spot. Instead, he gathered you into his arms and curled around you protectively, trying to keep your body warm to prevent shock.

With a start, he realized that this was the first time he’d ever held you.

“I think m’just gonna…rest for a few minutes, if that’s okay…” You breathed.

As he looked down at you, it was clear that you were struggling to keep your eyes open. He made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, clutching you tighter and burying his face in your hair.

“No, no, no…not you. Anyone but you.”

Simon Riley had never been a religious man, but he prayed then. He didn’t know to whom he was speaking, but it didn’t matter. He only asked for one thing.

“Don’t let them die. Not here, not now. I’ll do anything. Give them more time. Take me instead if you want. I’ll go in their place, just let them live. Please.”

He knew he didn’t deserve you. He always had, really, but that didn’t mean you should be taken away so cruelly. You should have something so much better than this, better than a cold concrete floor slick with your blood and a man like him trying to hold you together while he himself was breaking from the inside out.

“H-Hey…”

Your voice broke through the haze, and he cursed under his breath, quickly wiping his eyes and lifting his head to look at you.

“Fuck. Sorry, I- i’m right here, love. I’ve gotcha. Nothin’ to worry about, yeah?”

You just nodded. Your eyes were barely open now, your chest still slowly rising and falling with your breaths. You felt around for his hand and grabbed it, the silence seeming to last forever as you considered your next words.

“…I’m really glad I met you.” You finally said.

“Don’t. Don’t start sayin’ shit like that. Makes it sound like you’re-“ He exhaled and squeezed his eyes shut.

“I can’t fuckin’ do this, alright? I know I can be an ass, and I know i’m not the best at sayin’ it, but…I need you.”

Simon looked down at you. You weren’t moving.

His time spent waiting for medvac to arrive was a blur. He held you tight, begged you not to leave him even though he wasn’t entirely sure whether or not you could hear. And when the medics did finally show up, they practically had to wrench your limp body out of his grip.

He had to take a separate transport back to base. he sat alone and stared at his hands, watching your blood slowly dry.

——————

Simon lurked outside the door to your hospital room like- well, a ghost. When the doctors finally deemed you well enough to take visitors, he was at your side, like a loyal dog lying at its master’s feet. He held your wrist in a loose grip the entire time he waited for you to wake up, his thumb pressed against your pulse point so that he could be sure your heart was still beating.

It felt like ages that he waited for you. He didn’t even know quite how long he did, actually. He only left your side once, and that was for a shower in freezing water where he scrubbed his skin raw because he was unable to stop seeing the red covering it.

When you finally stirred beneath him, Simon thought he was dreaming. He stared at you with a mixture of disbelief and blind hope, and then you finally opened your eyes. After days, he finally felt like he could exhale. He let himself fall forward, his head coming to rest on your shoulder as he shook ever so slightly.

“God…don’t you ever do that to me again, got it? Thought i’d lost you.”

You reached up and started to rub circles into his back, choosing not to mention the fact that your hospital gown was damp with tears.

“Simon, I-“

He shushed you, rolled up his mask and pressed a lingering kiss to your temple.

“You made it, that’s what matters. You made it back t’ me.”

“And I always will.”

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #angst #fluff #writing #swords’s stories

[communistkenobi]

in that post abt the gender unicorn graphic, in the comments the idea of the “split attraction model” is brought up and you say you dont want to litigate that. however, im really curious what your opinion is bc i have some ideas abt it too. i feel like its sort of an incomplete analysis? like, people feel different ways about others and that cant really be flattened into like two modes of attraction. but i personally would call myself aromantic and bisexual so obviously i have some level of investment of the idea. anyways i just ask because in general i find your analysis and opinions compelling

thank you! re: this graphic

My issue with splitting “physical attraction” and “emotional attraction” is that it does the same naturalising trick that the chromosomes-as-the-symbol-of-sex does - by splitting the emotional from the physical, this implies that physical attraction is natural, without emotion, and by the same token that emotion can exist completely detached from the physical body of the person you emotionally desire. Like I just don’t think this is true! For example, the idea of “casual sex,” ie sex that is devoid of emotion/emotional investment, is a social construction, it is a sexual act that is being contrasted against societal norms of “serious sex” or “invested sex” or whatever you want to call it - sex that is being done in the context of a monogamous, married relationship, or an otherwise exclusive long-term one. the base social unit of much of western society is the nuclear family, and the nuclear family is “ideally” produced by monogamous, cis-heterosexual, racially homogeneous reproductive sex. That is the norm by which all other sexual behaviour and activity is judged by.

and to be clear I’m not using “emotional” in an idealistic or moral sense, I am not using it as a shorthand for romantic feelings, I am purposefully using the language the graphic is using - I mean any emotion. Like just to be super clear, I’m not suggesting that people who have casual sex all secretly love the people they fuck, or that sex has to always be a serious emotional endeavour, or that people who do not feel sexual attraction to the people they have romantic feelings for are secretly lying, but that I don’t think sex is something that can be devoid of emotionality entirely. Like I think we are engaging in this Cartesian body/mind dualism where the physical acts we perform are somehow wholly separate from our emotional states. Pleasure has an emotional component to it, I don’t know how to articulate my experiences with pleasure that do not involve some level of emotionality, and emotionality has a physical character to it. Like in fact I think this graphic is treating emotions as ideal states - it reminds me of like old misogynistic psychological theory that described rationality as an absence of emotion, that to engage in rationality is to move away from emotion. It treats rationality as “out there,” objective, natural, detached from social influence, and emotion as “in here,” in our hearts, ruled by the social. And this distinction is made on the idea that the social world is detached from the physical world, which is pure idealism.

this is not a dismissal or denial of anyone who feels a disconnect between their sexual and romantic desires, such as asexual or aromantic people - while I am neither of those things, I have experienced intense physical desire for the person I’m fucking while actively dissociating during sex as a result of dysphoria/heteronormativity/etc etc. by the same token I have also felt emotionally compelled to be physically attracted to someone without actually feeling physical desire. These are both emotional states that were in conflict with my physical desires, or rather my physical desires as I understood them at the time. our ability to interpret and understand our desires is itself social! otherwise heteronormativity wouldn’t be a thing. We don’t have unmediated, unemotional access to physical desire, which I think this graphic is arguing, intentionally or not.

so having complicated, contradictory, disconnected, or otherwise ‘non-normative’ relationships to our emotional states vis a vis physical desire is obviously very real, and the reason they are real is because physical desire is also socially mediated and constructed. What and who we find attractive, why types of bodies, physical and character traits, etc are attractive to us are all part of (joker voice) society.

now, idk how you easily communicate this in graphic format. perhaps these things are unsuited to the medium of easily digestible graphics, or perhaps I’m limited in my imagination. either way I don’t think bifurcating emotional-desire-as-social and physical-desire-as-natural is particularly helpful

#asks #disabling reblogs because um. well you know what tumblr is like #this is not ‘ace discourse’ or whatever the fuck I’m not doing that shit and if you start on here I’m gonna block you #even old new york was once new amsterdam

[ryan-sometimes]

hi! you're the only biochemist i know so i have to ask this

my aunt recently got really into this holistic-sounding thing called healing immunity by transfer factors, tied to a very fishy company, 4life. in my understanding, they're preying on the lack of scientific proof that something /doesnt/ work to convince people that it /does/, based on reports of 'clients' that miraculously healed from various conditions from minor allergies to literally cancer, as well as preventing/curing >autism< 💀 problem is, she totally believes this bulshit and is giving them tons of money and trying to get the whole family to try it too

as a biochemist, I was wondering if you ever stumbled across transfer factors, know about any recent research on this field, or know the scientific explanation for why this is a load of baloney

thank you!

I’m familiar with transfer factors. A transfer factor is a chemical compound (often a protein) that is taken from an organism after it develops immunity against a disease. It’s part of immune cell signaling- it’s how your immune cells talk to each other.

But that’s the issue with pseudoscience. Oftentimes, they take something that has a small fraction of truth to it and then completely invent the rest.

Here’s the rest: transfer factors are often incredibly specific. So specific, in fact, that just two strains of the exact same bacteria could lead to two completely different factors being generated in response to them. Also, two different people infected by the exact same illness could generate different antibodies/transfer factors in response. Your immune system is as unique as your fingerprints.

Even if you took the antibodies/transfer factors from one person immune to a disease and injected them into someone currently afflicted by the disease, there’s no guarantee that it’ll make them immune as well. Cell signaling compounds are essentially words in the language your body uses to communicate with itself- and who knows if other people’s cells speak the same language?

For all you know, that transfer factor is telling your body something it might misunderstand completely. What if it “mishears” what that factor is trying to say? You could trigger an unwanted immune response! And that could potentially be even worse than just developing immunity naturally through exposure.

The field of transfer factors is still rudimentary- all of the real (actually scientific) research on injecting people with transfer factors to boost immunity is still very much in its experimental phase. Any company alleging to sell transfer factors to boost immunity is scamming you. Not even real medical companies are doing that yet, and if they could, they would. You know how money hungry pharmaceutical companies are.

Here’s one thing that’s certain: transfer factors cannot cure non immunity/infection related issues. Autism isn’t caused by a pathogen, how can your body develop an immune response to it when there’s nothing to fight? And regarding cancer, there’s already an existing field to treat cancer using your immune system: it’s called immunotherapy. And that will be given to you by a doctor, not some random company trying to sell glorified supplements. And for allergies? Get some antihistamines and an EpiPen.

The best way to boost your immune system is already available: vaccines. Vaccines prompt your body to make ITS OWN transfer factors and antibodies, which guarantees your cells will understand what those factors mean. And the transfer factors your body makes for itself will always be safer and more effective.

Real science beats pseudoscience.

#I love it when you guys ask me scientific questions please ask me more of them #long post #biochemistry #pseudoscience #science #biology

[creative-caramel-coffee]

The Spiders Sister - Chapter 4

Summary: Reader goes shopping with Pepper, Wanda and Nat. It ends a bit early though when reader starts to struggle with her senses.

TW: overstimulation, flirting, speeding, domestic fluff (hehe)

Words: 3.8K

A/n I changed the floor layout my bad. Also, I planned like 16 chapters of this fic so far and there will probs be more. Now i’m just worried I’ll end up loosing interest and not finishing it 😭 and I’ve been up since 2am. I slept for two hours 💀

After a dinner of pizza and other takeaway foods Tony had bought, Wanda and you headed back to the floor with Peters room.

Stepping out of the lift Wanda led you to where you had been staying for the past few days while Nat went ahead to your new room put sheets on your bed.

Your room would be on the same floor as Natasha and Wanda’s. It was also where Yelena and Kate stayed when they were in town as well as Carol when she was on earth.

You reached the door and headed into peters room. It didn’t take long to gather your things. You grabbed the backpack with some clothes in it, all of which were dirty by now as well as your tablet, computer and sketching supplies.

Once you had shoved most of it into the bag and had your laptop in your arms you followed wanda back out the door.

Despite your very comprehensive tour of the compound, you still didn’t know where you were going.

Wanda and you got back into the lift and set out for your new room.

The lift was filled with idle chatter as Wanda caught you up on the avengers love lives. Tony and pepper were together while the rest were still living the bachelor life.

Feeling a little bold you decided to ask her.

“What about you?” You asked. “Are you seeing anyone?” You clarified when she shot you a confused look.

“Not currently.” Wanda said studying the rarely used buttons on the lift. Jarvis often did all of that for you.

“Ok cool.” You said before stuttering. “I mean not ‘cool’ but its not uncool” you began rambling only cut off by the angelic sound of Wanda’s giggles.

Your cheeks were rosy as she smiled at you.

“Your cute when your flustered.” She said with a wink just as the doors opened and she stepped out. You were frozen for a second before gathering yourself and following her out half a pace behind.

As you trailed after Wanda down the halls she turned to look over her shoulder at you. “You coming sweetheart?” She asked and you nodded speeding up your steps to walk beside her.

As you rounded another corner she slowed. “This is my room.” Wanda said gesturing to a closed door. “And that’s Nat’s.” She gestured to the door next to hers. “This is your room.” She said walking down to the door halfway between Wanda’s and Natasha’s on the opposite side of the hallway.

The door to your room was open as Nat was sat on your freshly made bed with a grin.

“Wondering when you were getting here.” Natasha smirked making Wanda roll her eyes at her.

You stepped into the room. It was large with a king bed and huge windows that let in natural light, or at least it would if it was daytime. It was past evening now and almost nine pm. The New York skyline was just as beautiful, however.

You set your bag and laptop down on the desk before sitting down next to Natasha on the bed.

The walls were white and grey. There was a big desk near the windows and a bedside table on each side of the bed. A door was off to the side which you assumed led to a bathroom. There was also a second door which must have been a wardrobe. Other than a lamp on the bedside and a Tv mounted on the wall, the room was bare.

“We’ll get thing to decorate when we go shopping tomorrow.” Nat said almost as if she could read your mind. More likely she could read your expression and body language.

“Sounds perfect.” You said with a smile.

“Do you have clothes you can sleep in tonight?” Wanda asked and you shuffled your feet before looking up at her.

“Er… no?” You said.

“Are you asking me or telling me sweetheart?” Wanda asked coyly making a blush rise on your cheeks.

“Telling?” You said still sounding unsure of yourself.

“Very well then. I’m sure Nat and I can find something for you to sleep in for tonight.” Wanda said looking to Nat for her opinion. The widow nodded and you felt yourself relax slightly.

“Thank you guys. I wasn’t looking forward to wearing dirty clothes in a clean bed tonight.’ You said sighing in relief.

“Are all your clothes dirty?” Nat asked eyeing your backpack.

“Yeah.” You huffed.

“We’ll find you something to wear tomorrow as well then, just until we can sort out some new clothes and laundry. Sound good?” Nat asked and you nodded.

“Yes, thank you.” You said.

“No need to thank us darling. Your quite welcome.” Nat purred and you felt yourself resist a shiver as her words danced close to your ear. The hair on the back of your neck swaying slightly under her breath as your skin tingled with the heat of her words.

You swallowed trying to regain your composure much to both women’s amusement.

“T-thanks.” You stuttered.

“Already said that darling.” Wanda chuckled and your blush deepened.

“Your so easy to mess with.” Nat said laughing from beside you.

You just glared at them and went to take the things out of your backpack while Wanda and Natasha left to find some clothes for you in their cupboards.

You had just finished setting down the last of your art supplies on the desk when Nat walked in loosely holding a faded black shield T-shirt that immediately knew was hers from how worn it looked. It also looked to be almost two sizes too big for Nat, so you shot her a questioning look.

She shrugged. “Its comfier to sleep in when its too big, and it kept the other boys I trained with back in the day from being able to stare at my ass.” She said with a wink.

“Whats this about Nat’s ass?” Wanda said walking in with a sly grin as your cheeks heated and you buried your face in your hands with a groan.

You heard the two of them high-five and rolled your eyes.

“Here.” Wanda said and you felt the bed dip beside you.

Wanda was holding out a pair of red track-pants which you took with a smile.

A second later Nat threw the shirt at you with a laugh as it landed on your head. You pulled it off and glared at her.

“You’re a menace.” You declared and Wanda hid a giggle behind her hand.

“Sure thing sweet cheeks.” Nat said rolling her eyes. “Now it’s bed time kiddo.” She said and motioned for wanda to leave as well.

“Im not a kid Romanoff.” You said and she smirked at the use of her last name, having been able to get under your skin successfully.

Wanda cuffed Nat but she ducked and took off down the hall. Wanda rolled her eyes and sighed. “Ignore her, she’s been drinking too much coffee lately.” Wanda said and bid you goodnight before retreating to capture the other redhead and force her to sleep.

You grinned at the shut door like a lovesick puppy before shaking yourself out of it. You changed into the clothes which smelt like them and made you feel safe.

Sliding under the sheets and getting comfy, you listened to the hallways to see if anyone was coming back. When you were met with silence, you reached over your backpack and pulled out a small white stuffed teddy.

Curling up with it under your arm, you buried your face in Nat’s shirt and fell asleep thinking of the two pretty redheads down the hall.

The next morning you were up bright and early. Having slept well for the first time in weeks.

You found your way to the communal kitchen just in time to run into Natasha who was coming back from early morning training in the compound gym.

“Hi Y/n/n.” Nat said smiling as she went to grab a bottle of cold water from the fridge.

“Morning Natty.” You said with a smile.

“You're in a good mood.” Nat said looking amused as she took a big swig from the water bottle in her hands.

“Yep.” You said popping the P.

“Do you know if Wanda’s up?” Nat asked and before you could respond someone else did for you.

“I’m up.” Wanda said entering the kitchen.

“Morning.” You smiled.

“Morning Y/n. Who wants breakfast?” Wanda asked gravitating to the pots and pans in the drawers beside you.

“I’ll have some.” You said with a smile as you took a seat by the counter.

“Put me down for some too, I’m just going to go and have a shower before breakfast then we can head out ok?” Nat said as she refilled the water bottle and put it back in the fridge.

“Sounds good.” Wanda said as she began pulling things out of the fridge.

“Umm… where are we going today?” You asked feeling a little lost. Nat had already taken her leave for a shower so it was just you and wanda now.

“Don’t tell me you forgot?” Wanda said looking amused.

“Forgot … what? … exactly?” You asked.

“The girls shopping trip?” Wanda said.

“Oh yeah!” You exclaimed sitting up a little taller in a way that made Wanda’s heart stutter.

“So… how did you sleep?” Wanda asked.

“I slept well, how ‘bout you?” You asked watching as wanda beat the pancake batter within and inch of its life.

“Good, good. It’s a bit hit and miss some nights but last night wasn’t too bad.” Wanda said vaguely as she turned around the pour the batter into the pan.

After Nat returned and the three of you had eaten what could only be described as the best pancakes known to man, you got ready and headed for the garage.

Pepper was meeting you at the shopping centre a bit later after she sorted out some stark industries meetings this morning.

“You ready?” Wanda said putting an arm around your shoulders. You jumped in surprise making Nat laugh and Wanda frown.

“Too busy daydreaming there, Parker?” Nat asked with a grin, and you glared at her.

“No, just planning your murder.” You said with a wink before blow if her a kiss that made Nat roll her eyes at you.

“Alright, enough you two.” Wanda said giving you a small shove before punching Nat in the arm.

“Get in.” Nat said opening a door for you to the backseat and waving her hand toward the car's interior.

“This feels personal.” You grumbled as the two redheads took the front seat.

“It is.” Nat grinned as the engine hummed to life. You were taking one of Tonys’ many fancy, and very expensive cars. Nat’s favourite was the Bugatti La Voiture Noire, but it was only two seats, so you were left with the choice of a Mercedes Mayback or a Ford Mustang both of which had four seats.

In the end Nat had opted for the mustang and the three of you had piled in to head off.

With Nat driving you must have arrived in record time; it was no secret the redheaded assassin was a speed demon and Tony had begun framing her speeding tickets in the garage on the wall. The government always came to her aid if the police ever tried to take her license as it was argued she needed it to quote “save New York”

Of course, you hadn’t known this before hand and had let out a small scream as Nat took off at breakneck speed out of the garage.

One very fast car trip later the three of you were stood by the door the mall waiting for pepper to join you.

It had barely been five minutes before the last redhead showed up. Pepper was actually on time; Nat’s driving had just made you all early.

As pepper walked over Nat decided to tease her a little.

“Picking up on Tony’s habits there, pep?” Nat asked.

“Oh please.” Pepper rolled her eyes. “I’m the only reason he’s even at any of his meetings at all. Without me he wouldn’t just be late, he’d be missing.” She said and Nat laughed.

“True.” The assassin nodded.

“Alright, lets do this.” Pepper said smiling at you and Wanda.

The four of you headed into the mall. It was a little crowded but nobody seemed to mind. You just crossed your fingers that your spider senses stayed in check.

Pepper had barely made it ten feet in the door before she was dragging Natasha into a very expensive looking boutique.

This was how you spent the next hour. Pepper and Wanda dragged you and Natasha around, stopping at every pretty dress shop and expensive looking store in the complex.

After about an hour you were beginning to nurse a small headache and the tingle in the back of your mind told you all you needed to know for what was going to happen.

Nat had just stopped at a rack nearby before pulling wanda over to her. Holding out a dress you saw Wanda’s lips moving as she nodded, and Nat took the dress and disappeared into the change rooms.

It was a tight red cocktail dress and when Nat came back out to show it off you swear your jaw unhinged and landed on the floor.

It hugged her in all the right places.

Wanda was too busy ogling Nat to notice your reaction but pepper snorted a laugh before covering her mouth.

Nat pouted.

“What? Does it not look good?” Nat asked and you shot pepper a pleading look but she just smiled.

“No … no. I’d just say its … jaw dropping.” Pepper said winking at you as you glared at her with flushed cheeks.

“Yeah?” Nat asked raising an eyebrow and shooting you a look. “Then I guess I’ll have to get it then won’t i?” Nat said and you nodded eagerly. “Your lucky your cute Detka.” She said as she brushed past you on her way back to the change room. “Because your drooling.” She whispered in your ear and your blush darkened a good two shades of crimson.

Your headache was still getting worse and about a half hour later it was almost reaching full force.

You had found a dress and Nat was carrying four bags, one with a dress for you and her and the other three had a few random pieces of clothing for your day to day wardrobe and some room décor.

Just as you were beginning to think you wouldn’t be able to take anymore Wanda suggested the four of you get lunch from the café downstairs.

By now you were surprised none of them had noticed your discomfort, despite trying to hide it it was still bothering you.

The fluorescent strip lights that lit the mall were too bright and seemed to be burning your retinas with each blink.

The noise level despite not exceeding regular mall noise levels was almost deafening in your sensitive ears.

Even the mixed smells of fast food and perfumes was making your head swim.

Your headache pounded behind your eyes as well as almost throughout your full skull. There was a buzzing in your ears that sounded like the electricity in the walls that simply wouldn’t shut up.

Your stomach was rolling from the mixed smells and it was just too loud and too bright.

As you slid into the booth next to Nat, with wanda and pepper on the other side facing you, you resisted the urge to crawl under the table and cry.

Your headache thundered in your ears and pounded on your skull.

Your headache was in full force and Pepper must have noticed how quiet you were being as she looked you over with a knowing gaze.

She took note of your pinched brow and slightly sweaty forehead, how you were biting down on your lip and squinting. As well as how you flinched as someone in the café banged their cutlery against their plate.

Wanda noticed peppers look and was now looking at you too with a frown which drew Natasha’s eyes to you as well.

The conversation had reached a lull as all three women studied you. You were too zoned out to notice their attention all being on you.

“Y/n?” Wanda asked slowly.

“Yeah?” You said looking up and sounding absolutely wreaked.

“Are you ok?” Wanda said looking slightly worried.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” You said not even believing your own words. Your voice was lathered in a tired tone. You shook your head while saying this only managing to anger your headache more as you winced and brought a hand to your head, squeezing your eyes shut tight.

Feeling nauseous you leant on nat and rested you head on her shoulder. Nat seemed almost surprised at your sudden desire for contact.

She held you close to her as your body relaxed into her side having no more energy to hold yourself up.

“Y/n?” Pepper asked softly.

“Mmm?” You hummed as you vaguely heard shuffling before you sensed someone close to you.

Opening an eye slightly you saw pepper crouching next to you.

“Y/n?” she asked softly. “Do you get the same thing peter does honey?” Her voice stayed low and quiet. You turned your face into Nat’s neck and weighed up your options before giving a small nod.

You miss the frown that adorns Wanda’s lips at the news that something was wrong and pepper seemed to know what it was despite you never having mentioned anything about this.

Pepper stood again and looked over at Nat and Wanda.

“She’ll be alright. Just stay here and I’ll be back. I’ll explain in a minute.” Pepper said and she took off in a brisk walk to a nearby shop.

After pepper had darted off she wove through the crowd and into a tech store, making a purchase before making one more stop and then hightailing it back to the café.

When she returned you’s seemingly not moved an inch while Wanda and Nat were talking in hushed tones. Nat had her arm around you and was holdin the back of your head into her neck as you seemed to be almost trembling from all the overstimulation.

When pepper came back Wanda sat a little straighter while Nat eyes the two new shopping bags pepper was carrying.

Pepper came to crouch beside you giving you a small nudge that set your skin on fire.

“Y/n?” She asked softly. “Can you look at me honey, you can keep your eyes shut, I promise these will help.” She said coaxing you out of Nat’s neck.

You faced her with your eyes squeezed shut as she slid a black pair of noise cancelling headphones over your ears and switching them on.

The blissful sound of quiet almost made you cry as your headache lessened. A moment later you felt pepper place something on your face before cautiously opening one eye to find the world dimmer and more tolerable.

Now decked out with the headphones and sunglasses you felt a lot better. You were exhausted and the headache was still present just less intense.

You watched as Wanda, Nat and Pepper conversed, the sound not reaching you. Pepper seemed to be explaining what was happening to them based off the sad look wanda gave you.

Pepper explained that your powers increased your senses, and that in the right conditions they were very helpful in fights. But were more than problematic in a domestic setting. She explained that it wasn’t unheard of for peter to get overstimulated when out or somewhere loud. She went on to tell them she recognised the look peter had when he tried to simple tough it out when they went out.

Wanda felt awful that your powers had caused you pain.

Nat however was already planning to talk to tony about getting something built to help.

Once pepper had explained the extent of the issue and some of the things that helped, the three seemed to change gears, looking to be making plans now instead.

After they had finished talking Pepper decided to try something.

She turned to face you and moved her hands to form some simple signs. Your face lit up in recognition.

*How are you feeling? * Pepper signed.

*tired* you signed back.

Nat and Wanda looked surprised.

“How did you know she knew sign?” Wanda asked.

“Peter seemed to know some when he first was with us.” Pepper explained. “I assumed Y/n might also know some if peter did.”

You could tell what they had asked. “My dad was hard of hearing. He taught us sign at a young age before … he died.” You said and pepper nodded.

*We are going to go home* pepper signed but you shook your head.

*you stay here, I’ll go. I don’t want to ruin things* you signed.

*nonsense* pepper signed and you knew based off Nat’s eyes she was following along.

Nat had learnt sign language from Clint in the academy when they were partners. Clint had insisted in case his hearing aid were ever damaged in a fight.

You sighed realising you weren’t going to win this one.

*ok* you signed and hesitated for a moment before continuing. *thank you*. You signed.

*your welcome* pepper signed back and Wanda offered her hand to you.

Holding Wanda’s hand, the four of you headed for the car park.

You felt bad for ruining the trip, but Nat shot you a look when she saw you getting lost in your head that banished all thoughts.

Once you were in the car, Wanda had insisted on driving. Nat was riding with pepper to try and find out more about what was going on. You kept the headphones and sunnies on the whole ride home as you zoned out slightly.

Wanda droves slowly so she didn’t throw you around while Pepper and Nat sped back to try and organise things for when you get back.

When you arrived, you were almost asleep leaning into the passenger door.

Wanda coaxed you out of the car and led you by the hand up the lift and down the hall to her room.

You were beyond exhausted as Wanda lifted the sheets and got you settled under the thick comforter.

She ordered Jarvis to dim the lights and soundproof the room. She thanked Tony for the added features in her mind as she felt you snuggle into her side.

A few moments later the door opened slightly to reveal Nat and Pepper peaking in.

“Is she asleep?” Nat asked and Wanda studied your breathing.

“Not yet.” Wanda responded.

“Well we have some pain meds for her.” Pepper said as they both came inside and handed wanda a glass of water.

After coaxing you into taking some medicine, you laid back down against Wanda was was massaging your head as you melted in her lap.

Pepper and Nat had dropped by Bruces lab to pick up peters pain meds for you before coming to Wanda’s room where Jarvis said they could find you.

You fell asleep not long after taking the medicine which had finally gotten rid of your headache.

#wandanat x r #avenger reader #fanfic #wandanat #natasha romanov #wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel #comfort #fluff #whump #overstimulation #reader gets overstimulated #spider reader #spiders sister #y/n parker #peter parker #spiderman #pepper potts #tony stark #avengers compound #marvel comfort #natasha romaoff #spider senses #shopping trip #avengers #sign language #slow burn #chapter four #fanfiction

[autball]

Autism as a concept has lived in the pathology paradigm from the very beginning. That’s about a hundred years of seeing Autistic people as “broken” and in need of fixing. It is officially diagnosed as a “disorder,” and the diagnostic criteria are full of pathologizing language. So for most of society, negative language and attitudes around autism are “normal.”

To someone in the medical or mental health field, pathologizing language is also “normal.” Same goes for people in education, particularly special education. It’s just how they talk about patients and students, they don’t mean anything by it, you HAVE to talk about a person’s deficits/symptoms in order to get them help. It’s just…normal.

But sometimes, when something negative is normalized enough, people can mistake it for being “neutral.” Which leads to people arguing that the word “disorder” is neutral, and that the actually neutral language of neurodiversity is “overly positive.”

That’s all incorrect, though. The word “disorder” is not and was never intended to be neutral. The language used to diagnose autism as a medical/mental health condition is not and never has been neutral. And “normalized” is not the same as “neutral.”

And so, here’s a handy dandy (and slightly snarky) graphic for anyone out there whose frame of reference could use some re-centering.

NOTE: Genuine questions are fine. Attempts to argue that pathologizing medical language is neutral OR that autism is a disorder are not. If you are uncomfortable in the realization that the language you’ve been using contributes to negative attitudes towards Autistic people, that’s a sign that you have some stuff to learn, not an invitation to get defensive in my comments section.

ALSO NOTE: Nowhere have I told anyone how to refer to or think of *themselves,* so don’t come at me with that one either.

ALSO ALSO NOTE: I don’t actually endorse anything in the “positive” column either. It is strictly to demonstrate that there is a difference between neutral and positive language, and all of it is meant tongue-in-cheek. Toxic positivity and supremacy don’t help anyone.

#autistic #actually autistic #autism #autism acceptance #neurodiversity #neurodiversity paradigm #paradigm shift

[rochenn]

hello!!! sorry if this is a personal ask, but i was wondering if you would be interested in talking about some of your region's language and dialect? its difficult to find information on specific demographics and how their dialects relate to the language overall, and im also in a lot of trouble with the german teacher crime syndicate and if i remain unable to roll an r they might get me - anon

Not personal at all! I'd love to talk about my dialect and I'm holding back from writing a whole essay about it rn :'D

If your German teachers make you roll your r they're either trying to make you sound Southern* or they're not even trying to teach you the uvular r. Neither one of these options is ethical. Standard German (TM) doesn't include rolled r sounds, the uvular r is way more common! I hear it's hard for Anglos to do, but just think of the k and g sounds - they get your tongue in the right position for that guttural non-rolled r :) (check this video, it explains pretty well)

I'm a Saxon speaker. This dialect has the same unfortunate connotations as deep Southern or Midwestern US accents; uneducated, bigoted, small-minded and all that, and it's considered unprofessional to speak it on the job (top 10 things that make me yearn for violence btw).

Anyway. Saxon my beloved!! It's very laid-back and fun. Whimsical, even. Your tongue kinda just stays at the back of your mouth, pronunciation is incredibly lazy, soften all the consonants. Since it's a Middle German dialect and not a High German one, some words are closer to English, too! Apfel becomes Appel, for example.

Saxon is also universally used when ppl satirize/mock East Germany or the entire region ig even though the dialects here are super diverse, too. And I'm not even from the state of Saxony but whoever drew the new state lines after the reunification had to have been WASTED cause wtf is Sachsen-Anhalt?? Whenever I open my mouth ppl just clock me as Saxon or maybe Thuringian but NEVER as Anhaltian.

Hope this helps, feel free to ask more! Good luck with your teachers 💥💥

#* some low german dialects around the baltic north sea coast also roll the r #and another thing: you can tell if someone is saxon even when they're speaking english #it's so strong it's wild #german stuff #ask

[j4ygyu]

confessing to his mute crush | pjs

pairing: jay x mute!reader

genre: complete fluff

summary: jay and mute reader both seem to like each other, just when he thinks that his confession was a pure failer the reader does something surprising.

“i. hope. i. am. not. late”  jay signed and chuckled as he fixed his cross body bag standing nervously infront of you which got out of place while he was running to the stop you had asked him to be at.

you smile at him, knowing he recently had learned sign language just to be able to communicate with you and so he was, a little slow and not so clear. 

you loved cycling alot, and bought this brand new bicycle and you had asked him if he wanted to spend a day out riding it and then go off to the beach and sit there. 

jay and you met through the same animal care shelter you guys volunteered to work at, his charming smile immediately caught your attention. however it was hard to communicate with your muteness, you only knowing sign language and him knowing none of it.

however within a span of few months, jay started learning it to be able to communicate with you. 

it made your heart flutter, i mean it’s the effort and dedication. still you asked yourself ‘does he even like me back?’

“is. this. the. new. cycle. that. you. bought?”he asked as you nodded and got off it, you touched the cute basket decorated with a small miffy teddy and a pink bow, it also had the dirty wrapper of chocolate you ate earlier. 

embarrassed, you took it out and threw it somewhere on the ground.

“i decorated it” you signed as he looked at you and smiled, making you blush as you looked away, anywhere but his eyes. 

“예쁘다” he said, even though you obviously didn’t hear him you read his lips quickly anyways. signing a quick thank you you sit back on your cycle and signal him to sit. 

he sits behind you hands on your shoulder as you begin to hit the pedal and ride around the city. 

some moments later you feel jay’s hand shifting from your shoulder to your waist now that you’re cycling in a well pace. 

the wind blows on your face blowing your hair back at his face too, you hit the break for a moment and turn around and give him an apologetic look. 

he smiles at you taking your hair and putting them to one side of your shoulder and keeping his chin on the other, staring at you the entire time he does so.

you squirm and try to get used to the feeling of his charp chin on your shoulder as it’s digging through. 

you shove the feeling off as you start riding again, this moment was really perfect for you, everything was so good. a nice cloudy, windy weather with your favorite person  friend hugging you by the waist and face on your shoulder, what a dream really.

you guys rode the cycle around the city, stopping by a store to get ice cream, as you parked your cycle near the store you guys stood on the footpath and he bought some ice cream.

you looked at him to see if he finished his and you caught him staring at you, he pretended to look around and controlled his cheeky smile but then something else caught your attention wired headphones connected to his phone in his pocket.

you grab them and gain his attention as he looks back at you “you like music?” he nodded and took his phone put of the pocket searching for something. 

curiously, you stared as you got closer to see his screen “this. is. my. favorite. song” he signed enthusiastically as you widen your eyes giving him a cheering gesture.

you stopped as you looked at him “i wish i could listen to it.. it must be nice” silence filled the space between both of you as you stared deep into you while smiling “it is.”both of you finished the ice cream before it melted.

after cycling and strolling around the pretty city here you were sitting on the rocks of the beach as the wind blew every once in a while.

jay had this thing forever in his mind, he loved you he loved you so damn much. everything you did got him screaming internally to wife him up.

“it’s fun being with you, you know?” you signed as jay felt his heart racing a million times in a second what could she mean by that? she probably meant as a friend right? or am i letting my stupid thoughts take over. 

“thank. you.” he says as you close your eyes and give him the widest smile. 

being with him made you feel full, it made you feel like finally you had a friend. but you quickly fell in love with him because of his mannerisms.

even though at school no one really bullied you, but there wasn’t something big for someone to  findi you interesting. emptiness fill inside of you, as for others you were just there, not enough things to be interesting for someone. or atleast for the people around you. jay knew these very well that’s why he hated the fact he fell in love with you so fast and was worried that you might reject him because of how fast everything would happen.

but little did he know that your feelings were pretty.. mutual you can say.

there was a wooden stick in your hand with which you were doodling on the beach sand with, jay was observing each and every move.

with that lavender sundress you were wearing it made everything 10 times cuter in his eyes. the way the wind slightly blew back your hair but you kept on fixing it.

you started moving the stick and you wrote your name’s inital with did adding a unfilled heart after it and looked at jay “want to try?” you ask bringing the stick closer to him as he accepts it. 

he looks at you for a second passing you a lovestruck look. 

J +

he writes before your names inital as you shoot him a confusing look with a nervous smile. 

he looks at you as his smile drops, emotions very visible in his eyes. 

=

he adds an equals to sign between your inital and the unfilled heart, following with filling the unfill heart that you drew. 

your smile drops as you stare back at him, completely in shock and he stares back with a regretful look in his eyes. 

you watch him take a big breath after looking at your reaction, not quite promising is it.

“i. like. you.” you sit there, puzzled. you don’t know whether to do something or cry, the moment feels unreal. 

it all felt so quick that you didn’t realise you haven’t responded to him yet for about past five minutes atleast. 

his hopeful looks now dies as he apologizes and stands up, “i am sorry, i am sorry, sorry i should leave i should probably leave.” he says as you try to read his lips “sorry…. should leave” you could pick up some of the words not many because of how rapid and low his mouth worked. 

you watch him stand up quickly wearing his bag not even sparing another glance at you as he starts walking away.

you felt your cheeks getting warm as everythinf starts getting blurry due to the upcoming tears.

you shake and get up dropping your own bag on the floor. 

“stay” 

did i say it right? you swore you heard the vibrations in your body of your own voice. not fully hearing what you said or if you said it right or no. 

breathing heavily, jay stops in his tracks as he turns around and stares at you in disbelief as you break down. right on that spot you were standing at. 

the word wasn’t clear and mix of broken and light cracks of course, a very weak one because of the vocal chords.

you felt bad for making him wait for so long or making his excitement go away for taking your no response as rejection.

you were just shocked, he actually liked you back? your entire life you felt so neglected and behind just because you were deaf, but now some thing good is finally.. happening?

now standing in a distance both of you staring at each other as he watches uncontrollable tears flow down your face as you sign a ‘i like you too.” while lowering your head and start sobbing. 

jay runs back to you and closes the distance, both of you hug like losers. 

because of the closeness you can feel his body vibrations and shivering, as you realise that he is crying you push him back to see his eyes now your eyes widened “why are you crying silly i should be the one crying..”

he just shrugs while trying to give you a smile and crying.

you bring your hands to wipe his tears off as you hold his face. his hands naturally rest on your waist. 

for a short moment you guys look deep into each other’s eyes as you lean in signaling for a kiss.

you felt him giggling like a teenage boy as he leaned in and pressed his soft lips to yours. 

he could taste the strawberry ice cream you ate earlier on your lips, your scent filling his nostrils and working as a hypnosis.

you pull away taking a long breath, “wasn’t it too long for a first kiss?” you sign while wiping away your own tears now and laughing.

once again complete silence fills the beach as the only thing playing if only you could hear, was the sound of the waves. both of you completely lost in each other’s eyes, it was like your eyes are speaking it all for you. 

but you noticed it, you noticed he was holding back a reply so you hit his chest “say it. say what you want to say.”

he broke the eye contact looking away at the sea, the waves coming and hitting the shore as his stupid smile came back on his face. 

he looked back at you and fixed your hair, brought his hands back to himself and signed at you. 

“i. could. kiss. you. for. an. eternity.”

#jay fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen #park jongseong #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enha #jongseong x reader #jay x reader #jay scenarios #jay enhypen #jongseong fluff #enhypen jongseong #park jay

[unsoundedcomic]

I was reading up on prior questions about pymary, and I had some wonderings about two of the most common combat pymary we see, being solidity and contour- namely, how do they hurt people? If you're moving solidity from a cube of concrete to bonk someone with, does the solidity cube retain the weight of the concrete to apply force? Is mass an intrinsic part of solidity? I'd be much less injured if you hit me with a paper box filled with air than a paper box filled with concrete. About contour, I believe that Duane used contour isolation to chop poor Petr's arm off with his own sword, right? I read in an earlier post about contour magnification that you can't make objects larger by changing their contour, that it's only a visual change. How can you sever somebody's arm with the contour of the edge of a sword if it isn't solid, and more importantly, how is it different from using the solidity of the edge of that sword to chop them? Sorry for the fussy questions, and thank you for the time you spend answering us all!

I think most of the confusion here is semantics. Both the attacks described above use Contour AND Solidity. Wrights (and myself) only focus on one or the other when describing them because those names are more useful to describe what the attack does. It's the same reason why edged Contour is called Edge Aspect. It's more useful language. You know exactly what the attack is (a slash). If it's a Solidity strike, it's a blunt blow. Some people will even using silly words like Piercing Aspect if they've crafted a thrusting spear-like shape. Fire Aspect and Ice Aspect are also just more specific and useful words for Temperature Aspect.

Mechanically, these are not accurate words, but they are what's become the parlance of battlewrights. I can't help but adopt them here since it's such useful short hand.

As for the momentum, sometimes that CAN be Momentum Aspect. It's often not hard to source what you need from the field. But that momentum can also come from your own swinging hand and arm, which you can translate to your attack. Wrights are already using the vector of their swung spellcasting arm to aim a spell; taking the force of the swing as well is good and efficient casting.

For this reason and others, battlewrights are often pretty strong and fit. The more you can work your own movement and strength into your attacks, the more dangerous you'll be. You do not often find elderly old bearded wizards fighting with pymary. They might do brilliant things in a workshop, but there is too much ducking, dodging, and throwing spells for them in a battle.

[ozai-the-bonsai]

Cry for the Moon

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |

Pairing: Zuko x firebender!reader

Warnings: some strong language here and there

A/N: I am sorry for the long wait, the inspiration was failing and I didn't want to write something half-heartedly just for the sake of posting something. This is a long chapter and I loved writing it! Hope you enjoy this one as well, let me know what you think about it in the comments!

Taglist: @annonymatic @yoongiesstar @lost-inthe-v0id @lokigodofmyheart @4l3x1s @potato87123 @asciendo @angelruinz @unamused-boss @junieshohoho @yourlivewire @itszzmoon @coolgirl458 @vyliie @6000-fandoms @aerikim246 @feitansrisingsun @xenop0p @saikikusouswife @marsbars09

Using a tank train to chase the Avatar and his friends could have been the best idea you had come up with so far.

With the giant flying bison shedding its white fur all over the place while it flew, it had been quite easy to keep track of them – actually, it had been rather too easy. The whole night, the tank train didn’t let the Avatar and his friends get the slightest bit of sleep.

You had been on their necks all the time, just like a shadow following.

Azula put her hand into the water to grab a hold of some patches of fur, she lifted to examine them. They had chased the Avatar and his friends to a river side surrounded by a forest. Given that they were sleep deprived and too tired, they weren’t going to last longer.

“Wads of wet fur.” Mai spoke dryly. “How delightful.”

Some birds were singing under the warm sun – it was a nice, warm sunny day which reminded you of the upcoming summer.

“They are not wads, they are more like bundles, or bunches?” Ty Lee seemed thoughtful as she tried to find the right word to describe the fur swimming in the river. She scratched her head. “It’s got an ‘uh’ sound.”

You giggled. “I know this feeling – you will keep think about that word until you finally find it.” You grimaced. “It is super annoying.”

“I know!” Ty Lee agreed with you as she swung her arms in an exaggerated manner, her long braid swinging in the process.

“Clumps?” Mai suggested with the same, dry tone.

Ty Lee’s grey eyes shone with happiness as she clasped her hands together. “Clumps! They are clumps!” She hugged Mai, who didn’t even bother returning the embrace. You rolled your eyes at her dullness – it drove you insane sometimes, which made you wonder how you had managed to be best friends with her for all those years in the first place.

You were a passionate individual and you expected your friends, or the important people in your life in general, to share your passion and enthusiasm from time to time. However, you didn’t recall experiencing such an occasion with Mai.

Turning your attention to Azula, who was standing by the river, you raised an eyebrow at her. “All the fur in the river makes you wonder whether that thing simply flew over or instead dived into the water.”

Mai pointed in the direction of the trail, which lead into the forest. “The trail goes this way.”

For a moment, Azula looked in the direction of the trail as she carefully considered her options, then she looked upwards. Following her gaze, you too spotted the broken treetops. A frown appeared on your face. “Well, I don’t know many creatures that can cause something like this.”

Upon hearing your remark, Mai and Ty Lee looked into the direction you were pointing at. Perhaps they finally realised that the bison was causing them all the trouble by shedding its fur, you thought as you crossed your hands over your chest. They could have washed it, which would explain all the fur in the river.

“The Avatar is trying to give us the slip.” Azula said, you felt like you two had the same or at least similar chain of thoughts. The Princess pointed to the broken treetops. “You three head in that direction and keep your eye out for the bison.” Then, she turned her gaze to the fur trail. “I will follow this trail.”

You placed your right hand on her shoulder. “Do you believe that the Avatar awaits you alone, on his own?”

Azula nodded. “It would make sense for the other three to take the bison, the Avatar can move more easily when he is alone.”

“Oh, yeah – flying, you are right.” You said, you tended the forget the fact that he was the last airbender. “In that case, you will be perfectly fine on your own. I would rather accompany you; however, with the new earthbender girl in their group, I believe the girls need a firebender on their side.”

After a while you all mounted your mongoose lizards and started riding towards the different paths, a specific pair of traces caught your attention. They were the traces of an ostrich horse. You raised an eyebrow as you turned back to look at the trace. I though he had lost us along the way some time.

During the early hours of the morning, you had noticed someone following the tank train from afar. Even though the distance was simply too much for you to make out who the person was, there had been one very prominent feature on their face that gave out their identity almost immediately.

The scar.

However, after a few hours, you had lost sight of him; hence, you didn’t bother letting Azula know that Zuko had been using your trail to hunt down the Avatar. As it turned out, he wasn’t really gone – he had probably taken a short cut. And considering the traces, he was headed the same way as Azula.

You stopped your mongoose lizard abruptly, causing Mai and Ty Lee to stop as well. Mai sent you an annoyed look. “What is it?”

“I think I saw some earthbending traces back there, inside the forest.” You lied without even thinking twice. “The earthbender girl must have taken a separate way – you two go after the bison and the Watertribe people, I will hunt down the earthbender.”

Mai shrugged. “Whatever you say.”

Ty Lee waved at you before going back on track. “Good luck – be careful with the flying rocks!”

You smiled softly at her words. “And you watch out for the waterbender!”

After making sure the girls were both out of sight, you turned your mongoose lizard back and started following the track Zuko’s ostrich horse left. This time, I am going to face you instead of going back home in tears. You thought with a determined expression on your face, your amber eyes lacked the slightest bit of warmth inside them. And you are going to answer for what you have done to me.

[Time Skip]

Zuko shouted in a mixture of surprise and fear as you jumped in front of his ostrich horse with your mongoose lizard.

He was wearing a brown, sleeveless robe with a dark green, long-sleeved shirt and dark green pants underneath. You couldn’t help yourself but raise an eyebrow upon seeing how different his hair looked – it wasn’t in a top not anymore. Apparently, after your last encounter with him, he had cut off his hair and let it grow longer.

Bringing yourself back to the present moment and to the task at hand, you got off the mongoose lizard and crossed your hands over your chest. The long sleeves of your crimson, wrap shirt dangled with the wind. “Wipe that shocked expression off from your face, Zuko – we both knew this day would come.”

Your words had been enough to push the shock away from his features, which left its place to something that resembled mostly fury. The Banished Prince dismounted his ostrich horse with a frown. “What do you want?”

“Answers,” you spoke with a voice as cold as ice, your amber eyes were dark. “You are going to answer for what you have done to me that very day.”

At first, Zuko’s eyes widened with you mentioning the day he left the Fire Nation; however, he quickly gained control over his emotions and put back the frown. “I don’t have any time to waste,” he muttered with an annoyed tone as he tried to walk past you. Without even thinking, you punched forward, sending a wave of flames towards him.

Once again, Zuko was taken aback by your cold-heartedness. When he came back to his senses, it was almost too late – the Banished Prince rolled backwards to escape the flames in time.

“I didn’t ask whether you wanted to go through with this or not,” you said coolly as you broke your stance to stand straight. “After all, why should I show the slightest bit of concern to someone who didn’t even flinch while shattering my whole soul to a million pieces?!”

Towards the end, your voice became louder and louder, until the point you ended up screaming at his face.

Zuko spoke your name softly, which had your heart melting almost immediately as if he hadn’t been the cause of all that had hurt you over the last years. “Let this go, please – it has been three years and…”

Not even letting him finish, you interrupted him – the fury was raising within you, blinding your sight, and blurring your mind. At that moment, all you wanted to do was to scream out every buried thought, every silenced cry at him until you couldn’t speak anymore.

“So, is time supposed to magically make me forget everything you did, everything you said?” You asked scornfully as you pointed at him with your index finger in an accusing manner. “You… You said I was a burden, a baggage, a fucking deadweight!”

Zuko said your name once again. “Please… I am…”

You were shaking your head almost hysterically, you could feel the tears running down your cheeks. This was the mental breakdown you had been trying to avoid having for weeks now. “How can you expect me to forget that?!”

[Flashback]

“Please, let me come with you.” You whispered as you tried to turn your face away – you kind of felt ashamed for you were crying in front of Zuko’s whole crew. He cupped your face and made you look at him as he gently wiped away the tears leaving you amber eyes. “Zuko, I… I don’t know how to live here without you. I have… I have had you with me ever since I could remember…”

Even though his left eye was bandaged as a result of his father’s unthinkable cruelty, you could still see the tears forming in his right eye. But he managed to control his emotions not to show any weaknesses in front of his crew. “Love, we have talked about this,” he whispered towards your lips before leaving a small kiss. “I will be back before you know it. I promise.”

You shook your head – you didn’t want to stay in the Fire Nation while he went on this impossible journey to find the Avatar, who had been presumably already dead for centuries! A part of you knew that his journey was probably never going to end.

The simplest thought of not getting to see Zuko ever again made you want to throw out. You couldn’t imagine your life without him for you hadn’t known it otherwise. He had always been there, with you, and all your life, you grew up with the belief that you were going to become his wife someday.

The arranged marriage, which had been decided when you were born, was the main reason for you to grow up with Zuko – yes, but it also allowed this purest love of all to bloom between you two. From childhood best friends to childhood crushes and to young lovers.

He carried a piece of your heart and whether he wanted it or not, a part of you was going with him.

“Why?” You asked with a low voice. “Why won’t you take me with you?”

Zuko placed his lips on your forehead to leave a small kiss before speaking. “Your place is here, in the Fire Nation, where you can continue your studies and your training to pursue your dreams.” Slowly, he turned his look away from your eyes. “I would never forgive myself if I took that away from you.”

You pressed your lips against each other to silence a sob that dared to escape. “My place is with you…”

“My decision is final,” Zuko spoke with a soft voice, which carried still enough authority to put an end to your continuous attempts to change his mind. “But I am going to miss you more than anything...”

It felt impossible to form words, let alone talk. Hence, you placed your lips on top of Zuko’s instead of wasting time talking.

After the long farewell, you went home quickly to get the small gift you wanted to give to Zuko before he set sail in a few hours. You wanted to give him something that would bring him good luck on his mission and also make him remember you every time he looked at it.

It was the small replica of a red dragon made of metal, which hung at the end of a black chain. You thought Zuko could hang it by his desk or by his bed, keeping it in his personal space where he didn’t need to wear his façade anymore.

As you approached the ship, you could hear some voices coming from up on board. Upon hearing someone from the crew mentioning your name, you stopped in your tracks to listen to what was being said. You could already see Zuko standing with his back facing you, talking to that crewmate.

“My Prince, please forgive me for asking but,” the crewmate spoke with a respectful tone. “Why didn’t you allow her to join us?”

You heard Zuko heave a sigh before speaking. “I am afraid she would only be a burden to us – like baggage, she would just slow us down.” The gift of good luck you held slowly slipped between your fingers and fell onto the ground. Zuko shook his head. “I cannot allow any deadweight on board – and if any of you should become one, I will not hesitate to send them back!”

Biting your lower lip to silence your sobs, you turned back and ran away without even saying anything to Zuko, without facing him and without wishing him one last goodbye. You wanted to believe he was lying but the way he talked as he uttered those venomous words had been just too real, too true.

After that day, nothing was going to be the same for you.

[Flashback ends]

Wiping the tears away, you asked with a weak voice. “Why?”

Zuko turned his eyes away, his shame radiated off his body. “Does it matter?” He muttered. “After what I made you go through, does it really matter why I said what I said?”

You shook your head as a hysterical laughter left your lips. “Still, you are incapable of looking me in the eye and say it – say that you thought I was weak.” You didn’t realise it as the flames started to form around your clenched fists. “Say that you have lied to me every single day!” Control slowly slipped away from your fingertips. “You have never even loved me!”

What came next had been a shock to both of you.

As you screamed your sorrows away, you shot the flames – which had been growing around your fists – directly at Zuko. This was probably the very first time that you attacked him the same way you would attack any of your enemies. The reflection of the flames was visible in Zuko’s amber eyes and he seemed to be paralyzed – he had never met this side of you, he had never really been on the other side.

If he had dodged the flames with his firebending a second too late… Well, let’s say it would have been really unpleasant.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Zuko screamed at you, still not returning your attack as you circled each other. “Why would you attack me like that? And… and why would you say that I have never loved you?”

“If you had loved me, even just a little,” you told him as you stopped moving in a circle to point at him with an accusing manner. “You would have never hurt me the way you did.” Raising an eyebrow at his direction, you asked sarcastically. “Do you like the person you have turned me into?”

Zuko shook his head. “No, I didn’t do this to you,” he said with a low voice. “This is you under Azula’s influence.”

His words made you throw your head back and let out a laughter that had the hints of condescending, amusement, and little bit… craziness?

“Oh, you do believe that Azula is manipulating me into being one of her puppets?” You asked with genuine curiosity in your voice as you realised the seriousness surrounding Zuko’s features. “My dear Zuko, you have never been more wrong in your life – I am with Azula because I want to, because I deeply care about her. And no, this,” you pointed at yourself, “is not her doing. I should thank you for giving me the push to become more invincible than ever.”

It was hard to understand what was going on inside Zuko’s mind for his amber eyes didn’t give it all away; however, you could feel the hints of longing, disappointment, and jealousy circling around him all at once. It felt like an emotional turmoil.

His voice almost cracked when he spoke. “So, you… replaced me with her?”

At first, you wanted to say that you had replaced him with Shuzi, but you quickly realised that it wasn’t true. Shuzi had a different spot, and it was under no circumstances close to that of Zuko – his place wasn’t completely occupied. However, it wouldn’t be wrong to say that Azula was the only person closest to that very place in your heart.

You pursed your lips. “Well, you can say that – to a certain extent. Speaking of Azula,” you moved away from Zuko’s way as you walked towards your mongoose lizard. “Despite how much I do want to fight you, it is Azula’s destiny to be the one who faces you. Thus, I am going to let you be on your way.” Upon seeing the shocked expression on Zuko’s face, you shrugged. “I have already given her a head start.”

Remembering what his main goal was – he had completely forgot about the Avatar – Zuko quickly mounted his ostrich horse. “You were wrong though,” he said as he rode past you, his voice was low but still, you could hear him. “I did love you. Every single day.”

With that, Zuko disappeared from your sight, leaving you with more questions than you initially had before finally facing him.

[Time Skip]

After Zuko was gone, you returned to join Mai and Ty Lee, only to find both of them soaking wet, sitting by the river. Using your firebending to dry them both, you told that the earthbender girl had escaped from you by going underground like a badgermole. Not long after, Azula joined you three as well, she seemed quite tired.

As you all rode back to the tank train on your mongoose lizards, the Princess told you what had happened: how the enemies and the traitors had worked together to corner her and how she had shot Uncle Iroh with fire to create enough diversion to escape. You couldn’t help yourself but feel terrible for Iroh – you didn’t think he deserved to be Azula’s victim – but you kept your thoughts to yourself.

“Mai told me you didn’t go with her and Ty Lee,” Azula said as you two walked towards the tank train. Mai and Ty Lee were already inside. “Did you really chase the eartbender girl?”

You shook your head, you weren’t going to lie to Azula. “I actually chased Zuko, I just needed a valid excuse to go on my own way without… you know, letting Mai involve herself as well.”

A small frown formed on Azula’s face as she stopped walking. “Zuko? How did you know he was following us?”

“I saw him earlier today from a distance, then he disappeared so I didn’t really think he could keep up with our pace.” You explained as you crossed your arms over your chest. After everything you had gone through, you felt exhausted – not physically, but rather emotionally. “But I saw him in the woods once again after you went your own way. I wanted to finally face him and be free of everything weighing me down.”

Azula nodded at your words, the firm expression slowly disappeared, leaving itself to curiosity. “I understand – in that case, I forgive you for not following my orders.” The edge of your lips curled upwards. “Did it work? Are you finally free of all that weight now?”

You nodded with a big smile forming on your face, almost reaching your amber eyes. Almost.

“I screamed at him everything I have been wanting to say to him ever since… you know, that day.” You spoke with a lower voice, not wanting to be heard by anyone. Shaking your head, you continued. “He is not even capable of owning up to his actions – he couldn’t tell me why he had… said all those things about me.”

Azula shrugged with an unamazed manner. “Well, what did you expect from Zuzu in the first place?” She said as she rested her left hand on the small of your back, leading you two into the tank train. “Still, I am glad that you are now lighter than ever.”

You forced the fake smile back onto your lips.

The problem was that you felt you carried more weight now that you had faced Zuko.

Over the years, you had made yourself deeply believe that he had never really loved you – this had been the only explanation you could find for his actions, your coping mechanism. However, now that you knew he had loved you all along, you felt more lost than ever.

More lost, more confused, more vulnerable.

#prince zuko #atla zuko #zuko x reader #the last airbender #avatar the last airbender #princess azula #zuko #zuko x oc

[lostfirefly]

If you sit down with this old clown, take that frown and break it, before the evening's gone away, I think that we could make it

I probably won’t surprise anyone, but the idea came to me in a dream. In it, two girls were sitting at a bar and one of them wanted to meet Buggy (I'm serious!). So welcome to another dream! :) English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

Buggy and F/GN Reader - Masterlist is here.

Description: Your sister took you to a bar so she could meet someone. She saw Buggy, but he clearly showed interest in you.

Warnings: Nerd people are mentioned here. I have nothing against people who are passionate about something. The basis is the reaction of people who do not understand other people's hobbies.

Words: 1815

Taglist: @gingernut1314, @operationroots

The title is taken from “I Hope That I Don't Fall in Love With You” by Tom Waits.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

GIF by vinnymauro

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“Why did you bring me here?” You twirled a glass of wine in your hands. 

“Well, because I'm tired of being alone. It's time to get back into the game after we broke up with that asshole.” Your sister leaned back in her chair and scanned the entire room with her eyes. “There are no decent candidates yet.”

“That's all very nice to hear, but why do you need me here?” You took a sip of wine and snacked on cheese. 

“I’m afraid I need a co-pilot, Y/N.” Your sister chuckled and scratched her nose.

“We've been sitting here for two hours and the only options that have come to us are those pot-bellied weirdos over there.” You carefully pointed your little finger at the table where a group of chubby guys in glasses sat, endlessly discussing aliens and yeties. 

“They’re not that weird.” Your sister tilted her head slightly. 

“Not weird? Seriously? One of them came up wearing a t-shirt with the inscription that said “take a ride on my flying saucer.” You laughed. “Sorry, but I didn't sign up for a such kind of date.”

“Well, if there are no other options, I'll choose the one with the Bigfoot t-shirt.” Your sister shrugged and opened new bottle of wine. 

“I'll hope he's not as hairy as his pet on his clothes.” You giggled and poured some wine into your glass. 

“You're such a bitch.” Your sister shook her head and took a piece of cheese.  

Suddenly a loud laughter echoed through the bar. Everyone sitting in the bar instantly turned towards the sound.

“Lord, who is laughing so hard?” You turned around, craning your head. “Apparently that tall guy at the bar.”

“Wow! He’s cute! Why didn't we notice him before?!!” Your sister looked in the same direction. 

“Seriously? Are you sure we're looking at the same guy? Blue hair, red nose, makeup on his face.” You nodded your face towards the guy sitting at the counter. His laughter seemed to shake the walls of the entire establishment.

“Yes. He’s cute!” Your sister kicked your leg under the table. “Go and find out from him whether he’s sitting here with someone or alone.” 

“Why me?” You look at her.  

“You're my co-pilot, Y/N. Or do you want me to start playing the poor abandoned girl card.” Your sister made a sad face. “I might even cry.”

“Okay!” You rolled your eyes. “Fuck. Why is it always me?” 

You muttered under your breath, took a glass, stood up and headed towards. You cleared your throat and gently patted the blue-haired man on the shoulder. “Hey, you. Hello!”  

“What?” He turned sharply and looked you with his green eyes up and down. 

“Nothing. My sister liked you.” You took a sip, realizing that you had said something stupid.

“And what?” The man look at you questionably. 

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “Go up to her and say hello like all normal people.” 

“No! I’m busy!” He turned around and poured some whiskey. 

“You’re busy? How? What are you doing? You just sit and drink.” You threw up your hands.

“It's called being busy, brownie! Do you see?” He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, grinned and poured himself a glass of whiskey in one gulp. “So, sorry, my love.” 

“Fuck you! Asshole!” You returned to the table, sat down and groaned. 

“So? Will he come? Y/N, please, say he'll come!” Your sister looked at you with hope. “He's so cool when he grumbles.” She smiled slightly.

“No, he won’t. He’s kind of strange, to be honest. He’s sitting there alone, and by the way, he wears more makeup than you and me combined.” You leaned your elbows on the back of the chair and looked towards the bar counter again.

“Y/N, go and ask what he is doing? Maybe he will come..” Your sister took another sip of wine, looked at you with pleading eyes and lightly tapped her palms on the table.

“Why me? You liked him, so you go! You made a hand gesture, sending your sister to the bar.

“I’m shy.” She stared at the table and began to move her finger along the glass. “You’re better at talking than me. Y/N, plee-e-e-a-a-ase!” 

“Why do I always fall for this? Okay! Site here.” You groaned, stood and came to the bar counter. 

You tapped the man on the shoulder. “Hey, you! Hello again!”

“You again?” He looked at you, and it seemed to you for a second that he was glad to see you. “Now what?” 

“Yeah, me. Well... My sister… My sister is still sitting there.” You carefully pointed towards your table. “And still likes you.” 

“And my question is still, “so what?” The man turned to you. 

“Listen, are you always such a rude person?” You squinted your eyes and took a sip. 

“Great!” He laughed loudly. “Your sister is sending you to me, and I’m the rude one in this situation!” 

“Look, okay, I admit it. I'm not very good at being a co-pilot. To be honest, I have no idea how to do this correctly.” Your chuckled. 

“That's noticeable, brownie!” He flicked your nose and winked.

“Is it difficult for you to spare 5 minutes with us? Say hello, say a joke and then say goodbye. Her boyfriend dumped her, by the way. And for some strange reason she liked you.” You softened your voice.  

“Still my answer is no!” The man turned back to the bar.

“Ass!” You muttered under your breath and was about to come back to your sit.  

“Hey, wait!” The man shouted at you. “What's the name?” 

“Whose name? Sister?”

“No! Your. What's your name?” He looked at you and took a sip. 

“Y/N. And you?” You squinted one eye.  

“Buggy.”  

“Well, hi, Buggy.” You smiled slightly. 

“Well, hi, Y/N.” He winked at you again.  

“Won't you come over?” You nodded again towards the table.

“Sorry, brownie, no!” Buggy shook his head and laughed again.  

“Okay!” You exhaled. “Enjoy your drink!”

You returned to the table and shrugged. “I'm a lousy co-pilot, sister. He won't co~.” 

"So, girls.” Suddenly, a white-gloved hand slammed a bottle of whiskey onto the table. “Are we relaxing?" 

“YES!!!” Your sister shouted happily, and immediately covered her mouth with her hand, not expecting such volume from herself. 

“Yes. Relaxing.” You looked at Buggy and quietly whispered “thank you”.

Buggy winked at you again. “I thought I'd rather keep you company than these weirdos in weird t-shirts.” He placed his hand on the back of your chair. “And I’m Buggy, by the way. So. What are you talking about?” 

“About various things.” Your sister said, started twirling her hair on her finger. 

“Come on, brownie... and... well.. brownie’s sister, tell me about yourselves.” Buggy poured himself a glass of whiskey and gently placed his hand on your back. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye and smiled slightly. 

“Oh, I work at the police station.” Your sister took a sip of the wine without taking her eyes off Buggy. “Well, you know. Administrator. I register cases and everything.”

“Sounds good. What about you, brownie?” Buggy moved his hand over your back a little lower. 

“Nothing to tell, to be honest. I just quit my two jobs, and now I’m celebrating my freedom.” You blushed a little, feeling his hand started stroking your back. 

He took the bottle, turned it over in his hands and smelled it. “You can't celebrate by drinking some crap.” Buggy called the waiter and ordered another bottle of wine. He placed your open bottle on the weirdo’s table. “Guys, this is for you. The best wine in this bar. Enjoy your evening.”  

Buggy chuckled strangely, sat down and moved his chair closer to you. You could smell him, smelling like a mixture of rum and whiskey, and musk.

“Okay, okay.” You glanced at him. “You asked about us. It's our turn! Tell me, what do you do in life?” 

“Me?” He looked at you, pointing his finger at himself. “You don't know who I am?” 

“Sorry, Buggy.” You took his bottle of whiskey and poured some into your glass, squinting your eyes. “But I have no idea who you are.” 

“Na-ah! First, that's my bottle. And I'm gonna get it back.” He smirked and took the bottle from your hands. “Y/N! My brownie, I'm the genius and famous Buggy the Clown!” 

You drank whiskey and choked. “Fuck, it's strong.” You wiped your lips. “Who are you? The clown? From the circus? From the real circus?” You slightly turned your body towards him.

“The realest and greatest circus in the world!” Buggy placed his hand on your waist.  

“So what?” Your sister asked and ran her foot along his leg. “Do you have acrobats, jugglers and mimes there?” 

“Exactly, brownie’s sisters!” Buggy pointed his glass at her. “The best acrobats, the best mimes, the best jugglers! You should go to my show. Especially you, brownie!” He flicked your nose.

“Me?” You tried not to notice his hand on your waist. “Why me? Sorry, Buggy the Clown, I don't like circuses!” 

“You just weren't in my circus, baby!” Buggy winked at you and slowly moved his hand to your hip. 

“Damn, I'm out of whiskey. Waiter. Hey! Are they deaf or something? I'll be right back. Brownie.” He stood up and winked at you. “And.. brownie's sister.”

“How do you do it, Y/N?” Your sister laughed, taking a sip of her wine.

“What am I doing?” You raised one eyebrow.

“I noticed the guy, and he will leave with you. Probably.” Your sister leaned back in her chair and looked around.

“He seems okay. He's even cute.” You shrugged your shoulders and glanced at Buggy, who was actively gesticulating and laughing at the bar counter. “Or maybe he’s flirting with everyone like that.”

"No way! He liked you!" Your sister stuck her tongue out at you.

“Sorry...” You answered sadly.

“Oh, fuck it. He's yours. I'll go meet the yeti.” Your sister took the glass and went to the next table.

“Hey! Where is your sister?” Buggy asked in surprise as he came back.

“She went to see that dude who's wearing a yeti t-shirt. Why are you asking? Miss her?” You immediately straightened your hair, placed your hand on the table and rested your chin on your palm.

“No, brownie. I miss you already.” Buggy plopped down next to you and moved his face close to yours. “So, what are your plans for today?” He stroked your shoulder with his fingers.

You moved even closer to his face and winked. “Buggy the Clown, it seems like you promised to show me your circus. But first…” You carefully ran your finger along his leg. “You will buy me a brownie.”

#one piece #buggy the clown #buggy live action #one piece live action #buggy one piece #opla buggy the clown #buggy fanfiction #buggy fic #opla buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #buggy x female reader #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy x reader

[nychthemeron-rants]

this is quite random but i was thinking abt someone in dunmesh who becomes an artificer (equivalent, ik it doesnt have strict roles) bc they suck at other magic right? then i realized magic isnt some arcane thing here, its commanding/communicating with spirits. do you have any thoughts on how an artificer might work here? or any other class equivalent?

OK!!! So I'm actually really excited to get this ask because my dunmeshi OC is actually an artificer! They’re a dwarven magic researcher specializing in ancient languages who becomes an artificer to overcome the low magic tolerance that dwarves have!

However, while I have been putting a lot of thought into how an artificer would work in dunmeshi, I feel like I am too unfamiliar with the two dunmeshi magic systems (I'm not finished with the manga and am too scared of spoilers to deeply research it yet) to say that I based it off canon.

In my head, artificer magic relies a lot on glyphs and symbols, such as carving symbols and spells into objects and then activating it with a little bit of mana which is just a fraction of the mana it would take to do the spell like a caster would. I think that this would work because there definitely seems to be evidence of similar magic already existing (such as the tattoos that were-creatures seem to have or the fact that the teleportation spell people use to leave the dungeon uses two physical items to work).

That being said, I can also see it being based in the same ancient magic that Marcille uses, writing magic circles/ glyphs that tie the item to the dimension with infinity, allowing you to do certain things with it depending on the circles/ glyphs. That, of course, would also make it highly illegal, but maybe that's an element you'd want to add to your character. (I'm considering it for my character given their specialty in ancient languages).

I think you can do a lot of cool things with a dunmeshi artificer, especially given the technology we've seen dwarves have, so I think there must be a way to make it work! I'm sorry that I'm not well researched enough to go into more detail than this, but thank you so much for the ask! I absolutely love getting asks, especially ones like this! Feel free to send any more thoughts, questions, or feedback!

#dunmeshi #dungeon meshi thoughts #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #artificer #nych answers

[cheynovak]

Somewhere only we know - Part 2 

Dean Winchester x F/Reader (Y/N)  

Warnings: 18+, smut, fluff, angst, just a lot of love 

Side note: English isn’t my first language. 

This story does not follow the SPN timeline. 

-- 

After the hunt where Dean met Y/N in a dream caused by a Djinn the brothers move on. Although Dean and Y/N said goodbye she keeps lingering in his head. What if he had stayed, would she loved, him the same way as she did in their shared dream.  

Now many years later their paths cross again.  

-- 

The bunker echoed with the sound of new voices, an underground sanctuary where the Winchester brothers found solace amidst the chaos of their world. Sam, ever the strategist, had brought a new purpose to their home. He had opened its doors to those who strayed from the apocalypse world, seeking refuge and guidance in the ways of hunting. 

Dean paced the dimly lit corridors, the tension of unfamiliar faces settling heavily upon him. He had always been wary of outsiders, his loyalty fiercely guarded around those he deemed worthy. But this influx of strangers, each with their own tales and trials, left him feeling like a stranger in his own home. 

Mary had spoken to Sam a few hours ago, about how Dean lived in silence amongst them. Worried about her oldest son she had asked Sam to talk to him. Giving him more purpose. 

One evening, as the bunker hummed with the murmurs of its newfound inhabitants, Sam sought out his brother in the confines of his room. He found Dean sitting alone, listening to some music to shut out the chaos swirling outside his door. 

“Hey, Dean,” Sam’s voice broke through the stillness, a beacon of familiarity in the darkness. Dean glanced up, his expression guarded yet softened by the sight of his brother. “Hey, Sammy,” he greeted, the lines of tension easing from his features. 

“Why don’t you join us for dinner tonight, it might be nice to meet some people.” Dean sighed, the weight of responsibility pressing down upon him like a leaden shroud. “I don’t know, Sammy,” he confessed, his voice heavy with the weight of unspoken fears.  

“I’m pretty comfy out here.“ Sam looked around, “What are you doing all day, Dean?“ Well you know, “Watch tv, wash or work on Baby, listen to some music.” speaking of music. The second Foreigners waiting for a girl like you started playing Dean pushed the skip button.  

“Still can’t hear that song huh?” Dean pretended it was nothing, shrugging his shoulders. “Dean... it has been years. Why didn’t you search for her already?” “And tell her what Sam? I’m sorry for not being there for you. Sorry for driving off? Sorry for not being able to give you what you need.” 

“Dean...” Sam started. “No Sam! I made a choice, I’m ok with that.” An awkward silence fell between the brothers. He didn’t believe his older brother, he loved or cared either too much or too little and, in this case, it was way too much.  

“Well, you need to get out more, maybe you could fetch us the food I just ordered?” Sam suggested, Dean rose from his seat with a heavy sigh. “If you want me gone, just say so Sammy.” Sam looked hurt and shocked. ”D-Dean that’s not it...” But before he could say more the older brother was gone.  

As he drove, the cool breeze of the open road washing over him, Dean felt a sense of liberation he hadn’t realized he’d been craving.  

-- 

Y/N sat at a cozy booth in the burger joint, as she waited for her date to return from the restroom so they could leave. The soft chatter of other diners and the clinking of silverware filled the air, creating a soothing ambiance that enveloped her in a sense of calm. 

Alex wasn’t a bad guy, but their conversations were filled with awkward silences and when he talked all he could talk about was work. They met at the office, he was always the nice quiet guy.  

When he asked her out, she knew how much it would have taken from him. So, she said yes. As she zoomed out, looking in front of her, amidst the gentle hum of conversation, she heard it.  

A familiar rumble, a distinct purr that sent a shiver of recognition down her spine. Her heart skipped a beat as she recognised the sound. She glanced through the window, her breath catching in her throat as she spotted the unmistakable silhouette of a Chevy Impala parked outside. 

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips, memories flooding her mind like a tidal wave of nostalgia. The sound of that engine was etched into her soul, a reminder of a time long past yet never forgotten. 

Her date returned to the table, a quizzical look in his eyes as he noticed the smile playing on her lips. “What’s got you grinning like that?” he asked, curiosity lacing his words. 

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her gaze lingering on the Impala parked outside. “Oh, it’s nothing,” she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of wistfulness. “Just a fond memory, that’s all.” 

Her date nodded, accepting her vague answer with a shrug before diving back into conversation. But Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of longing that settled in the pit of her stomach, the echo of that familiar sound reverberating through her thoughts like a haunting melody. 

Y/N had to be honest and tell Alex a few times she didn’t hear him. All she could do was glance outside.  

When they stepped out of the diner, the cool night air wrapping around them like a comforting embrace. Y/N’s eyes immediately sought out the familiar shape of the Impala parked nearby, her steps instinctively leading her towards it. 

Leaving her date standing alone a few feet away.  

As she approached the car, her hand reached out almost of its own accord, gliding over the smooth surface of the Impala’s body. Tracing her curves like she was a woman needed to be loved. She peeked inside her heart raced. It looked exactly like the car he used to drive.  

And then she noticed the carvings, the initials, the same once he had seen that night. After taking a breath she greeted the car like she had been a friend.

This must be a dream. She thought. I'm dreaming.

“Hello, baby,” she murmured softly out of nostalgia, her voice barely above a whisper. 

Her date watched in surprise, a curious expression flickering across his features. “Is this your car?” he asked, his tone tinged with a mix of confusion and admiration. 

Y/N didn’t turn to him, a sheepish smile playing on her lips as she was reliving her memories in her mind. “No, actually,” she admitted, a hint of embarrassment colouring her cheeks. “But I’ve always had a soft spot for classic cars... especially this one.” 

Her date’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, his gaze drifting back to the Impala with newfound appreciation. “I can see why,” he remarked, his voice tinged with admiration. “It’s a beautiful car.” 

-- 

Dean stepped out of the diner, the familiar sound of the closing door echoing in his ears. His eyes fell upon the Impala and the two people standing around her.  

He couldn’t help but smile as he approached, he overheard a man’s voice, commenting on the car’s beauty. “She sure is,” Dean replied without missing a beat, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and affection for his cherished vehicle. 

Turning to face the source of the comment, Dean’s gaze fell upon the woman standing nearby his car, looking inside, a flicker of recognition dancing in his eyes as he took in their presence... “Y/N?” 

-- 

Y/N’s eyes widened in astonishment as she recognised his voice, a rush of memories flooding back at the sight of the familiar face before her. “Dean?” she whispered, disbelief colouring her tone as she took in his rugged features and trademark leather jacket. 

Dean’s smile widened at the sound of his name on her lips, a sense of familiarity washing over him at the sight of her. He couldn't help but stare, his gaze lingering on Y/N longer than he intended. 

Memories flashed before his eyes, a whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm him as he took in her appearance, the way her hair fell around her face, the sparkle of recognition in her eyes, her lips as she smiled at him.  

Dean's eyes trailed over Y/N's figure. He couldn't deny the rush of desire that surged through him at the sight of her, the memory of her beauty was nothing compared to the real deal. 

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as they stood there, locked in a silent exchange that spoke volumes without a single word spoken. Dean felt a rush of nostalgia wash over him. 

-- 

Y/N couldn't help but notice the change in Dean, the transformation from the young boy she had once known into the handsome man standing before her. His rugged features held a maturity that spoke of the trials and tribulations he had faced, yet his green eyes still held a spark of the boy she remembered. 

As Dean's green eyes met hers, Y/N felt a warmth spread through her. For a moment, they stood there, locked in a silent exchange that spoke volumes without a single word spoken. 

Y/N’s date looked between them, confusion evident in his expression as he realized the connection between Dean and Y/N. “Do you two know each other?” he asked, his tone laced with curiosity. 

Dean chuckled, a twinkle of amusement dancing in his eyes as he glanced at Y/N. “You could say that,” he replied cryptically, a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he shared a brief glance with Y/N. 

“Oh, eh right. Dean meet Alex, Alex this is Dean.” The men shook hands. Dean looked back at you. “Boyfriend?” he asked a little scared. Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the question. "Oh no, no, just a colleague," she replied quickly, almost instinctively. 

Relief washed over Dean's face, and Y/N couldn't help but notice the sadness that clouded Alex's expression. Alex's reaction was immediate. She could see the pain flicker across his face, a silent admission of the feelings he had begun to develop for her. 

"I... I think I should go," Alex said, his voice barely a whisper as he turned to leave. “Wait a second.” Y/N said walking over to his car.  

Y/N's heart sank as she watched him walk away, a pang of regret coursing through her veins. She knew she had hurt him, and for that, she felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. 

"Thank you for the evening, Alex," her voice filled with gratitude and sorrow. “it’s just eh... Dean and I we eh...” “Have a history, I can tell.” He finished her sentence. “I see you on Monday, right?” She nodded and looked back at Dean when Alex drove off.  

A small silence grew between Dean and Y/N. Staring at each other. 

Suddenly, Dean broke the silence. "So, where do you live now?" Y/N hesitated for a moment before replying, "I moved to Kansas." While slowly walking back towards him. 

Dean looked at Y/N, his eyes softening with a hint of longing. Not wanting to let her go just yet. "Hey, eh why don't you join us tonight if you have nothing else to do?" he asked, his voice gentle yet insistent. 

Y/N hesitated, uncertainty clouding her thoughts. “Us?” she asked “Sam, me, a few other people who we, let’s say co house with.” She was still in doubt. But Dean's words broke through her hesitation. "We could catch up, it has been a while" he suggested, his tone filled with sincerity. 

Caught between the pull of the past and the promise of the present, Y/N found herself nodding in agreement. "Okay," she said softly, a sense of anticipation stirring within her. 

Dean's face lit up with a genuine smile as he reached for the car door. "Milady," he said, his voice warm with affection and a touch of playfulness. 

Y/N couldn't help but return his smile, feeling a sense of familiarity and comfort wash over her at his gesture. With a graceful nod, she stepped into the car, the soft leather seats enveloping her in a sense of nostalgia.  

Even the smell was still the same as she remembered. 

The ride was quiet part from the soft rock music coming from the radio. 

Dean glanced at Y/N seated beside him, a rush of memories flooded his mind, triggered by the faint scent that lingered in the air. It was her scent, a familiar fragrance that brought back a cascade of emotions from their shared past. 

The scent carried him back to moments they had spent together and in this car.  

He remembered the way her body felt pressed against his, the warmth of her skin igniting a fire within him that he thought had long been extinguished. Their fingers intertwined, their hearts beating in sync as they surrendered to the passion that had consumed them that night. 

He recalled the soft sighs that escaped her lips, the gentle curve of her neck as he leaned in to kiss her, and the way her breath caught in her throat as their lips met in a fervent embrace. 

-- 

Y/N's voice gently pulled Dean out of his memory. "What's on your mind?" she asked. Dean hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to put his thoughts into words. But then, with a sigh, he decided to be partly honest with her. "It's just... it's no longer just me and my brother," he admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. 

He watched as Y/N's expression softened. "What do you mean?" “The bunker is filled with people, new people, hunters, allies, friends... it's complicated,"  

Dean explained a little what happened while parking the car in the garage. Before walking back into the chaos.  

Dean walked Y/N out of the garage, his steps slow and deliberate as he led her towards the entrance of the bunker. As they approached the entrance, Dean took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. 

He pushed open the heavy door, revealing the bustling activity of the bunker beyond. Hunters and friends, their voices echoing off the walls. Spotting Sam across the room, Dean raised his voice to be heard over the din. "Hey, you remember Y/N, right?" he said, drawing the attention of those around him. 

As the chatter died down, all eyes turned to Dean and Y/N, curiosity evident in their expressions. Dean took a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking. 

"I want to introduce you all to someone," he began, gesturing towards Y/N beside him. "This is Y/N. She is... eh, a friend." 

A murmur of surprise rippled through the crowd, and Dean couldn't help but notice the look of shock on Mary’s face as their eyes met across the room. 

As Sam approached Y/N, a warm smile spread across his face, genuine pleasure evident in his eyes. "Y/N, it's so good to see you again," he greeted her, his voice filled with sincerity. 

Y/N returned his smile, feeling a sense of warmth wash over her at his genuine welcome. "It's good to see you too, Sam," she replied, her voice tinged with gratitude. 

As they caught up, Y/N couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly she fell back into conversation with Sam and the other people here. 

Meanwhile, Dean watched from the sidelines, a pang of loneliness tugging at his heart as he observed how well Y/N seemed to fit in with everyone else. He couldn't deny the twinge of jealousy that crept into his mind as he watched her laughing and chatting with the others.  

-- 

Y/N couldn't ignore the sight of Dean sitting alone in the corner, nursing a beer as he watched the people around him. Sensing his solitude, she made her way over to him, determined to offer him some company. 

"Hey," she said softly as she approached, a gentle smile playing on her lips. "Mind if I join you?" Dean looked up, surprised to see her standing there. A faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You, never, go ahead." 

Y/N settled herself beside him, the warmth of her presence a comforting contrast to the coolness of the room.  

-- 

Mary nodded to Sam while she spotted them, “Who is she?” Sam smiled softly “Y/N, we met her during a hunt. It was so long ago I don’t remember when, must have been at least 10 years.”  

“Dean seems to like her enough to bring her home.” Mary noticed. “I know he was torn when he had to leave her. It took me while to realise it wasn’t the Djinn that affected him, he never talked about her but later I realised it was leaving her that upset him.”  

Mary looked at her youngest boy, Sam could read the question in her eyes. “I said he had to contact her, start a life with her if he wanted, but he claimed it was nothing like that.” Sam nodded towards his brother.  

“Seeing him like this, makes me realise he wasn’t honest to himself.”  

-- 

"It's a bit hectic out there, huh?" she remarked, gesturing to the bustling crowd. 

Dean nodded, taking a sip of his beer. "Yeah, it's a bit much for me sometimes," Y/N studied him for a moment, noting the weariness etched into his features. 

She took his beer out of his hands putting it on the table behind them. "Why don't we go sit somewhere quieter?" she suggested, her tone gentle yet earnest. "Just the two of us." 

"Yeah, I'd like that," 

As Dean led Y/N to his room, his quiet sanctuary away from the bustling activity of the bunker, he couldn't help but feel a sense of nervousness creeping over him. 

Y/N settled onto his bed, leaning against the bedframe with a relaxed ease that contrasted sharply with Dean's own awkwardness. He stood by the doorway, unsure of what to do with himself now that they were alone together. 

Y/N looked up at him, a gentle smile playing on her lips, tapping the bed. "You can sit down, you know, I won’t bite." she offered, patting the space beside her on the bed. 

As Dean settled onto the bed beside Y/N, the floodgates of conversation opened, and he found himself pouring out everything that had happened to him over the past ten years.  

He spoke of the battles fought, the losses endured, and the moments of triumph that had shaped him into the person he was today. How he met Cas and Jack. How his mom was back.  

Y/N listened intently, her eyes locked on his as he recounted his journey, her expression a mixture of empathy and understanding. To his surprise she took everything in very quiet.  

“Dean?” he looked up at her. “Be honest with me please. Why don’t you like being around these people? What holds you back to make friends?” she asked him. 

So typical he though, she hasn’t seen me in years and sees right through me.  

Dean got up, his movements around the room became restless, his hands fidgeting with objects as he avoided Y/N's gaze. Her question hung heavy in the air, stirring up emotions he had long tried to bury. 

"It's not that I don't like being around them," Dean began, his voice low and hesitant. "It's just... complicated." 

He paused, struggling to find the right words to express the turmoil swirling inside him. How could he explain the weight of responsibility that rested on his shoulders, the constant fear of failure, the overwhelming sense of duty that consumed him? 

"They depend on Sam and me," he continued, his voice tinged with frustration. "And sometimes, I feel like I'm drowning under the weight of it all. Like I'm not allowed to just... be." 

"I get it," she said softly, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his arm. "But you can't have Sammy carry that weight alone.” She got up and held his hand. “And you can always come to me if you need.”  

"Thank you," he said softly, in the quiet intimacy of the room, Dean's gratitude lingered in the air between them like a tangible presence.  

“You know,” she started “I always hoped you would knock on my door again.” As their eyes locked, a mix of emotions danced in the depths of their gaze, unspoken words swirling in the space between them. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I-I was protecting you. You don’t deserve a life like this.” 

In Y/N's eyes, Dean saw understanding, compassion, and a flicker of something deeper, a connection that transcended mere words. He felt a sense of warmth spreading through him, a feeling of acceptance and belonging that he had longed for more than he cared to admit. 

Y/N saw vulnerability, strength, and a glimmer of hope shining through the layers of his guarded exterior. She felt a surge of affection welling up inside her, a desire to offer him comfort and solace in the midst of his inner turmoil. 

“But what if I want to?” She looked at his lips while his hand moved to the back of her neck.  

As they closed the space between them ever so slowly, the air crackled with anticipation, a silent invitation passing between them. Their lips met in a tender embrace, a shared moment of vulnerability.  

The sensation was electric, sending shivers down his spine as he pulled Y/N closer, his hands finding her hips and drawing her in with a gentle urgency. 

Y/N's touch on his chest ignited a fire within him, her fingers tracing the contours of his body with a delicate touch that sent waves of pleasure coursing through him.  

He could feel his heart racing beneath her touch, his pulse quickening with each passing moment as they lost themselves in the sweetness of the kiss. 

In that moment, nothing else mattered but the two of them, their bodies pressed together, a soft moan escaped Y/N's lips, sending a jolt of desire coursing through Dean's veins. It was as if the sound was a silent invitation, a cue that activated a primal instinct within him. 

Feeling her response, Dean's hands moved with purpose, one sliding up to cradle the back of her neck again, while the other traced the curves of her body.  

With a gentle yet firm touch, he guided her back, pressing her against the wall with a sense of urgency that matched the pounding of his heart. 

Y/N responded eagerly, her hands moving to grasp his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as she pulled him closer. her skin tingling with anticipation as she surrendered to the heat coming from Dean’s body.  

Their breaths mingled in the air between them, hot and heavy. Dean looks at her, making sure he wasn’t crossing any lines.  

And as their lips met once more in a heated embrace, Dean couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration wash over him. A primal need to possess and be possessed, to lose himself in the intoxicating bliss of their shared passion.  

"I missed you," he murmured, his voice husky with emotion. "More than I ever thought possible. I've thought about you every day, wondered where you were, what you were doing..." 

His words trailed off as he pressed his forehead against hers, the intensity of his gaze locking with hers as if searching for reassurance in the depths of her eyes. 

"I never stopped thinking about you," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "You've always been on my mind, even when I tried to push you away. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing, that you were missing." 

Y/N's touch was gentle as she cupped Dean's face, her fingertips tracing the contours of his jawline with a tenderness that spoke volumes of her emotions. 

"I felt the same way," she confessed, her voice soft yet filled with conviction. "I regretted letting you walk out that day. It felt like I had lost a part of myself, like I was making the biggest mistake of my life." 

Dean's heart ached at her confession, "And you know," Y/N continued, her voice trembling slightly with emotion, "the only time I felt truly happy was in our dream. It was like a glimpse of what could have been, like a....”   

“A reminder of the life we could have had together." Dean continued her sentence. She nodded. Feeling the weight of his emotions pressing in on him, Dean closed the space between them, his heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability.  

His hand gently brushed against Y/N's cheek, his touch tender yet filled with urgency. 

"Maybe I'm being too forward," he began, his voice raw with emotion, "but I want you to stay with me tonight. I need to feel your body close to me, to know that you're here with me." 

He knew he was laying his heart bare, exposing himself in a way he hadn't done in a long time. But in that moment, all he could think about was the overwhelming need to hold Y/N in his arms, to feel her warmth against him and know that she was real. 

Y/N's eyes searched his, her gaze filled with tenderness and understanding. She reached out to take his hand in hers, her touch sending a jolt of electricity coursing through him. 

"I want that too," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "I want to be with you, Dean. To feel your arms around me and know that I'm home." 

A mischievous glint sparkled in Dean's eyes as he flirted with Y/N, his heart racing with the thrill of anticipation. He settled down on the bed behind him. "Home, huh?" he teased, his voice laced with need.  

"Why don't you come over here and I'll give you the warmest welcome you've ever had." 

Dean's heart skipped a beat when he noticed her confidence as she climbed onto his lap, her body inches away from his as she leaned in close. "Is that a promise?" she whispered, her voice husky with desire. 

Dean's grin widened, his hands reaching out to pull her closer until their bodies were pressed together.  His hands guiding her to grind against his hips. "You bet it is," he replied, his voice low and smouldering with passion. 

Their lips melted together in another breath-taking kiss, the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the electric current of desire pulsating between them.  

Dean's hands roamed Y/N's body, tracing the curves of her form with a hunger he hadn’t felt in forever. 

Y/N responded eagerly, her fingers tangling in Dean's hair as she deepened the kiss, her breath mingling with his in a symphony of passion. With a soft moan, Dean rolled over, laying her beneath him, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.  

His hand moved under her shirt, Y/N gasped at the sensation, her heart racing with the intensity of their connection. His hands roamer her breasts, kneading while his lips nip at her neck. 

Clothes became obstacles, hastily discarded in their eagerness to feel each other's skin against their own. 

Y/N's soft moans filled the air, Dean felt a surge of primal desire wash over him, his own breath hitching in response. Loving how she said his name.  

The sound was like music to his ears, igniting a fire within him that burned hotter with each passing moment. 

"God, you sound so beautiful," he murmured against her skin, his voice husky with desire. "I could listen to you all night." Y/N's moans grew louder, more urgent, as Dean's hands explored every inch of her body with a reverence that bordered on worship. Each touch sent sparks flying.  

“I need to feel you.” he murmured against her neck.  

Their breath mingled in the quiet of the night, the heat of their passion igniting a fire that burned hot between them. 

Dean's fingers traced lazy patterns along Y/N's skin, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through her body. With each touch, she felt herself melting into him, her desire building with every caress. 

Feeling the undeniable heat radiating from Y/N's core, Dean couldn't resist the urge to explore further. His hand trailed down her body, his fingers dancing lightly over her hips before slipping between her thighs. 

Y/N gasped as Dean's touch sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her, her body arching instinctively towards him. With a soft groan, Dean pressed his hard length against her folds, teasing her with the promise of ecstasy. 

"God, you feel so good," Dean whispered, his voice husky with desire as he rubbed himself against her, his movements sending waves of pleasure crashing over her. 

Y/N moaned in response, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she surrendered herself to the delicious friction. "You want this, don't you?" Dean murmured, his voice dripping with desire as he teased her mercilessly, his words stoking the flames of her arousal. 

Y/N could only nod in response, her body trembling with anticipation as she surrendered herself completely to the ecstasy of their shared desire. ”Y-yes, please Dean. Please.”  

With a low growl of satisfaction, Dean plunged himself deep inside her, the sensation of their bodies joining sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through them both. 

Y/N couldn't help but curse under her breath as she felt the fullness of Dean inside her, his size stretching her in the most delicious way. She clenched around him, her body instinctively responding to him.  

Dean groaned at the sensation, his muscles on his back tensing, while he placed his face in her neck. He leaned into her touch, flexing beneath her hand as she caressed the tense muscles.  

"Fuck, Y/N," Dean breathed, his voice rough with desire as he buried himself deeper inside her.  

Dean's movements slowed, each thrust deliberate and purposeful, the sensation of being one with Y/N was better than he had ever hoped for. With each deep, deliberate movement, he ensured she felt every inch of him, his body moving in perfect harmony with hers. 

Earning every moan or sigh.  

Y/N's breath hitched as she felt Dean's slow and steady pace, her body responding eagerly to his every touch. "God, Dean," Y/N gasped, her voice husky with desire as she met his gaze with a hunger that matched his own. "You feel so good inside me." 

Dean groaned in response "Fuck, Y/N," Dean whispered, his voice rough with desire "Oh, sweetheart," he breathed, his voice rough with need. "Tell me what you want." 

Y/N grinned, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "I want you to fuck me senseless, Dean. I want to feel every inch of you inside me, driving me wild with pleasure." 

"God, Y/N," he groaned, his voice thick with desire. "That’s so fucking hot." 

Y/N chuckled softly, the sound sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through Dean's veins. "You haven't seen anything yet, baby," she teased, her voice dripping with promise as she trailed kisses along his jawline. 

Dean's heart pounded in his chest as he felt himself growing harder with each passing moment. "Then show me, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "Show me everything you've got." 

With a playful smile, Y/N shifted her position, straddling Dean's hips as she positioned herself above him. 

Dean's breath caught in his throat as he watched her with hungry eyes, his hands reaching out to grasp her hips as she lowered herself onto him. With a slow, deliberate movement, she sank down onto his cock. 

Y/N moaned softly as she began to move, her hips rocking back and forth in a steady rhythm as she rode him with a skill that left him breathless. With each thrust, each movement, she felt herself spiralling closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy, her mind consumed with the overwhelming need for release. 

Dean groaned beneath her, his hands gripping her hips. Feeling Y/N tightening around him, Dean knew she was on the brink of orgasm, and he wanted nothing more than to join her in the ecstasy of release.  

With a primal growl, he guided her movements, urging her to ride him harder, faster, as he whispered words of encouragement in her ear. "That's it, sweetheart," Dean groaned, his voice thick with desire. "Ride me harder sweetheart. I want to feel you come apart around me." 

Y/N's moans filled the room as she surrendered herself completely to the pleasure coursing through her body, her movements becoming more urgent as she chased the elusive peak of ecstasy.  

Dean's hands roamed over her body, his touch igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. "You're so fucking sexy," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "I want to come with you, sweetheart. I want to feel you come apart in my arms." 

Y/N's breath hitched as she felt herself teetering on the edge, her body trembling with anticipation as she rode him harder, faster, her movements driving him to the brink of madness. 

As Dean felt Y/N's body tighten around him in the throes of her orgasm, he couldn't hold back any longer. With a primal growl, he thrust up into her. He buried himself deep inside her, becoming more urgent as he surrendered himself completely to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through his veins. 

He sits up wrapping his arms around her as he feels his own release. Y/N cried out as she felt him release inside her, her body trembling with the intensity of their shared climax. She collapsed against him, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she rode out the waves of pleasure crashing over her. 

His arms still wrapped around her as they clung to each other in the aftermath of their passion. Their bodies pressed close, they shared heavy breaths, their hearts pounding in sync. 

Dean's voice was husky with desire as he whispered in Y/N's ear, his breath warm against her skin. "God, that, you, were better than I remembered," he admitted. Y/N's heart swelled with warmth at his words, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she leaned into him.  

"You're not so bad yourself, Winchester," she teased, her voice filled with affection and adoration. 

Dean chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest as he held her close. "I guess we make a pretty good team," he mused, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her back. 

Dean's touch was gentle as he caressed Y/N's thighs and hips, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin as they lay together in the quiet of the room. But as Y/N voiced her worries about someone hearing them, Dean's expression turned possessive, a fierce glint in his eyes. 

"Let them hear," Dean growled softly, his voice low and filled with determination. "Let them know that you're mine." 

Y/N's breath caught in her throat at his words, a thrill of excitement coursing through her veins as she met his gaze. "Yours?"  

She had never seen this side of Dean before, and the intensity of his possessiveness sent a shiver of desire down her spine.  

Dean's voice was tinged with uncertainty as he spoke. "At least if you want to be my girl," he murmured, his words filled with vulnerability as he laid bare his fears. 

Her fingers reaching out to gently brush against his cheek. "Dean," she whispered softly, her gaze filled with tenderness and affection. "I don't want just one night with you. I want every night. I want forever." 

"You do?" he asked, Y/N nodded, her eyes shining with sincerity. "I do," she affirmed, her voice filled with conviction. "I want to be yours, Dean. Completely, utterly your" 

A relieved smile spread across Dean's face as he pulled her closer into his arms, holding her so close as if he never wanted to let her go. "Then you're mine," he whispered, his voice filled with certainty. "Forever and always." 

They lay together, wrapped in each other's arms, almost falling asleep. Y/N’s phone rings: Foreigner I've been waiting for girl liek you, started to play. 

Dean looks at Y/N, they stare at each other for a second before they started laughing. 

Knowing this was a sign.  

-----------

Song lyrics : Foreigner - Waiting for a girl like you

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[the-al-chemist]

Happy Worldbuilding Wednesday! As you've written a fair bit about Charlie, I'm sure you've thought a lot about dragons by proxy. Are there any headcanons/ideas you have about dragons in your world (that Charlie is likely to talk about at length to people)? - @hphmmatthewluther

Well, look who is here asking me about things that I love to talk about. Dragons? Yes please. Charlie Weasley? Even more yes please.

So, I had a good think about dragons when it came to Learning to Fly. I’m a stickler to canon, so I knew I wanted them to be completely wild animals, but I needed to have Norbert(a) able to interact with Charlie. So, I based my “characterisation” of dragons on a few things, some of which made it into the story, some of which remained unpublished.

Until now.

I’m so sorry, you hit my nerdy/hyperfocus spot. This is such an essay of a response. I’m leaning into it with picture examples and everything…

Anatomy/Physiology

Firstly, I used birds as an inspiration. This is an obvious one, sort of. Generally, you have two different dragon appearances in recent western fantasy: either they have four legs plus a pair of wings or their wings are their front limbs. In the Harry Potter films, they use the latter. It’s less cute, but makes more sense in terms of them actually being able to fly.

All the terms I used to describe Norbert(a)’s body parts were anatomical terms for these body parts in birds, e.g. the keel. The keel is the breastbone, and in birds the muscles used for flight all attach here in order to keep the centre of gravity low on the body for flight. There are tendons that then extend up through a loop of bone and act as pulleys for their wings, the bones of which are actually very similar to our own arms, if you look closely.

As well as their flight mechanisms, birds have a bellows system of air sacs that I wanted to borrow for my dragons. Birds use these for respiration (think about oxygen at high altitudes during flight), but for my dragons, they have another purpose. Because, what else needs oxygen? What is it that dragons are most famous for? What is responsible for those burns on Charlie’s arms?

Fire.

I am not much of a reptile expert, so I didn’t take much in the way of inspiration from reptiles when writing about my dragons. I do, however, have the headcanon that, like all reptiles, dragons are cold-blooded. Most physiological adaptations have more than one purpose, and so, my dragons don’t just use fire for hunting and defence purposes — they use it to keep themselves warm. They produce the flames in their thorax, where there is a good oxygen supply and the blood can be warmed easily due the proximity to the heart, and the muscles and thick bone of the keel are able to protect it.

Behaviour

I used more elements of dog behaviour when writing Learning to Fly than anything else, for the simple reason that it is the animal body language I understand best and that I thought most readers would understand best. However, I would argue that dragons are far more like cat species than dogs in regard to their behaviour, so I included some cat-like tendencies as well.

Dogs are social creatures, and most of their behaviours have evolved in order to maintain order within a pack. They hunt in packs, roam in packs, raise offspring in packs. Other than lions, cats are usually solitary creatures, only joining together as adults to mate. There are exceptions, of course, but this is usually the rule. The same goes for dragons, from what we see in canon. Therefore, their behaviour will largely be based on avoiding conflict in order to avoid injury to themselves, and on solitary hunting. I did put this in with Norbert(a) — in one of the final chapters, she engages in play behaviour by mimicking hunting, like a cat.

I also took a lot of inspiration from orcas, mainly in respect to the ethical arguments surrounding their captivity. If you haven’t seen Blackfish, you should definitely do so. I headcanon dragons to be immensely powerful and intelligent beings with wide roaming ranges, who do not cope well in captivity. In canon, it is known that dragons are too dangerous to keep as pets, and judging by the treatment of the Gringotts dragon, the ones that are kept in captivity do not lead happy and fulfilled lives.

I have written several times that dragons kept in captivity suffer from severe impairments to their physical and emotional health, to the point that they have reduced length of life as well as quality of life compared to their wild counterparts. Most of that has been in the form of dialogue from Charlie.

Three guesses what is the thing he really won’t shut up about…

#al speaks #charlie weasley #dragonology #about those dragons tho #dragons #wbw asks #did I mention that I love dragons