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kombuuuu · 10 months

Note

miles deflecting is so GOOD he makes me ILL!!!!!! i love ur writing <3 do u think we cld have like a short continuation 4 it?

Deflecting on you.

42!Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

“Would you hurt me?” “Never again.”

continuation to this C:

im infecting people with the 42!Miles propaganda cough cough 🗣️ ly2 pookie (also this is definitely not short)

A few days had passed now, and Miles had stayed his previous level of civil, bordering caring, with you.

He wasn’t glad with how easy he had let the two other kids get off. But when they were reduced to cowering forms in darkened corners whenever he was around, it brought a pinch of justice, pride to his chest. Although, James had a rather decent punishment, in his opinion.

Word had gone around that he’d gone insane, smashed his head against a desk in an old , deserted classroom until he’d passed out. Mangled his own skull, intended to stab someone, but couldn’t get up from the damage to his own self.

A tip to the cops surveying the scene, and the rumour was spread a little wider.

He had been wary with you, from the moment you both sat staring at the city life below you, in his bed.

In his room, his house with his Ma just outside. The domesticity of the moment making the ache in his lungs suffocate his heart. Squeezing and pumping out as much blood as it could, heart rate trying to keep up with the lack of air.

He’d thought back to it too often in the mere days since occurrence for him to simply brush it off, but he sure tried.

—

He tapped the rubber of his pencil along his desk, staring at the page below him. The words being said had been drowned out by his racing mind, something he fully knows would get him in trouble eventually for “lack of effort”. But it was maths, there wasn’t a single thing being told that he didn’t already know.

What had his current attention, was the faint sketch of you on his gridded paper. He hadn’t meant to draw it, he’d just—, spaces out and it was there when he snapped back.

Now he was at a standstill with himself, use the currently tapping eraser to get rid of the drawing, or live with the faint lines hidden between pages. It was obvious, rub it out. But the thing, the most difficult aspect—,

—Was how utterly gorgeous the drawing was.

How your hair framed the page, the shape of your eyes being shaded in led. The soft look you’d given him that night being practically pulled from his mind and placed on the cheap paper. He’d recreated it perfectly, he could feel the apprehension, the uncertainty.

But despite how bitter those words sounded, uncertainty was still consideration.

You were considering him. Not as an enemy, or a nuisance — as a stranger.

You can get to know a stranger.

You can get to know him.

Miles closed his eyes and groaned under his breath, rolling eyes at the hope rising in the back of his neck.

He flicked to the next page, promising to never open to it again.

If it ended up cut out of his book, folded neatly and stuffed in the hidden latch of his desk drawer, no one but him would know.

—

You hadn’t forgive him, of course you hadn’t — you’re not that naïve.

He hurt you, cause you an entire season of torment, sleepless night and stress filled days.

You tried to stay quiet, like you always had. Passing by crowds unnoticed and surfing under the noise with a cotton stuffed ear.

And he’d started a ruining of that.

Trying not to draw attention to yourself, despite him so clearly trying to put you in spotlight.

This whole ordeal was a domino effect from that damn kaleidoscope, and he was just another finger flicking the next tile.

Until he wasn’t.

And he’d near killed a man for you. Taken care of you, feared for your life.

He’d found you, from nothing but a gut feeling.

The way he would stare now, was less vindictive. His gaze no longer that of anger but of a man conflicted. Like he couldn’t tell what to think of you.

You lay over your ruffled sheets, quilt and bedding under you to not overheat yourself. You window was wide open, airing out your humid room. The soft sway of leaves sprouting from the vines crawling over your building was pleasant. Digging their roots in the crevices of your window sill like Miles had been digging into the crevices of your mind.

You put a hand over your head, stretching your back up and listening the the crack that came from it.

Dropping back down and huffing, you continued to watch your ceiling in mild disinterest, trying desperately to reach the essence of sleep, and let the way Miles’ lips curled into a smirk fall from your mind.

He hadn’t realised it, but his small rebuttal to your teasing that night in his room had made a permanent statement in your head, no longer able to forget about it.

“No, just you —,” Your mind hadn’t cared to supply the rest.

Every single thing about that scarring night had burned its way into your temporal lobe. Like giving it a searing kiss with memory stained lipstick.

A small clicking had caught your attention, like fingernails tapping glass. The clinks were rhythmic, had the coordination of a spiders legs.

Your focus on the plain ceiling was now broken, a curiosity replacing it.

You approached the open window without caution, Moonlight spilling through the glossy panes. Placing your hands on the sill, you leaned forward, and felt the small rush of wind over your shoulders, the breeze cooling your heated face. An urge to close your eyes and take it in almost over-reigned that new curiosity, but your self preservation thought better of it. Checking left and right either side as if someone was going to be waiting right there for you. Because that was a completely rational and not at all ludicrous thought. You scoffed to yourself, glancing at the skyline with glistening eyes before turning and heading back inside, to finally — maybe, fall asleep.

—

Miles released a quiet breath, braids swaying from his suspended position hanging from a rooftop. Your rooftop, of your building—.. Where he was watching you. It was coincidence, really. That somehow, running from guys he stole a cure his Momma needed for a patient from. And when grappling from building to building, using clips and hooks and zip lines to get away from them, he’d stumbled into your street.

He’d lie to himself and say it was just the street his Ma’s favourite Paella was made, but the one time he’d seen you, exhausted from school—, drag yourself into an apartment across the street from that very place..

His opinion hadn’t changed, so to speak. But there was an added motive, that’s it.

And he’s hiding, it’s not his fault if your apartment is high up. Or his need to see you is growing at alarming rates, or his heart was beating so loud in his ears that he hadn’t heard you approach the window.

So when your fingers had softly scraped along the sill of your window, he’d pulled himself above you — and prayed you wouldn’t look up.

You hadn’t, thankfully.

He’d watched the way your skin had shone under the city lights, your features illuminated and accentuated by the chaos the streets. You were so unbothered—, so calm, even amidst everything he (and everyone else) had put you through.

Like a stubborn stone keeping the whole wall from collapsing.

His admiration for you had grown, not only from the past months — which he realises is slightly sadistic — but from your tenderness that had only lasted mere minutes. Even the glimpse of a softer you, not the one covered in a satiated rage, hands squeezing lemons until the bitterness dripped not from the fruit broken skin, but from your own. The sting of acid only making your bloodied finger feel more justified.

Not that.

What he saw was a woman free of woes, no need to split her skin when her heart was already so vulnerable.

And he craved for a mere glimpse of that again.

Like old, your anger had satisfied him. Gave him those doses of you he’d fiend for, and had excited him to no end. Now, he’s found something stronger.

He can’t let you go.

He watches you scoff at yourself, his mask retracting from his face. You look towards the city’s edge one last time before turning and making your way back inside.

He sighs, adjusting his position on the buildings ledge, and grabs the waterspout running the side of the building, crawling back to the shadows.

His claws clink, like nails tapping glass.

—

There wasn’t a day of peace in the last fortnight.

You were still suffering the effects of your previous injuries. People knowing that something had gone down between you and James, seeing as he hadn’t showed up in two weeks. And the near-healed bruises on your face were a well indicator of your involvement.

So when you stumbled upon Keith, someone you’d basically owed your still-intact-body too, scrambling out of an alley. Bloodied and bruised, nose broken and face almost as busted as your was that day. Safe to say you weren’t exactly confused to what was happening.

He looked up, eyes meeting yours almost eerily fast, the blood from his nose coating his teeth a deep crimson. A sick chill ran down your spine and you stumbled back. A wet gasp for breath was heard, diverting your attention towards its gruesome origin.

Turning your body towards the darkened alley, vision blurring at the edges. Your breath escaped you.

Keith had started speaking, and over the ringing in your ears he’d begged for your forgiveness, scraping his knees while he clawed to get away from his friends continuous spluttered coughing.

“What—..”

Mathew was lying on the floor, avidly trying to protect himself using only his bare hands. While a figure you could only see the back of punched in a strict, repeated pattern — like they’d done this before.

“Miles?”

The man whipped his head towards you, blood dripping down a cut on his cheekbone, and a snarl over his face.

Said contortion quickly smoothened out, a rather *confronted look replacing it.

Keith was long gone by now, having dragged his bloodied body away from whatever mess you were now a part of.

“Chiquita, don’t freak out.”

The way your lungs seemed to refuse oxygen kind of refuted that command.

You were frozen still, eyes stuck on the barely conscious body beneath the subject of your recent intrigue.

Mathew was barely recognisable, eyes puffed up in bruises and bloodied flesh. Miles had taken near no damage compared to the other men.

“[Name], c’mon.” He was getting up now, shuffling off his opponent with a tone of apprehension.

Only when his movement shifted your frozen eyes, did you see the key details you’d missed.

Braids, Nikes, Jacket, Collar, Claws.

A spray painted logo you’d only ever seen one man branding.

The Prowler.

"No te precipites, Ma."

“Don’t act rash, Ma.”

Right as the endearment left his mouth, you turned on your heel and ran.

"[Name], Por dios — quedate aquí."

“[Name]! Oh my god — stay there.”

He waved nonchalantly to the definitely not-going-anywhere boy on the floor. Shifting his foot back and jumping at a wall, claws digging in and gripping the ledge to the roof, swinging himself over it and keeping the momentum in a run.

Darting through corner stalls and confused pedestrians, you tripped over yourself to get away.

A strong, persistent mantra of ‘Holy fuck.’ was circling through the forefront of your mind, and yet everything else was hyper aware.

Not a fault in your step as your grace seemed to come out in times of dire panic, like a dancer following their cues, every movement made around you was an instructors yell.

You turned into the alley leading to your apartment, a shortcut, when you heard someone drop down behind you. You spun around, fast enough to dizzy yourself, and gave one look to the neon mask of the vigilante before going to run again. A small noise of panic escaped your shaking form.

“No corras, por favor!”

“Don’t run, please!”

Your heart beat fast, reaching the door to your apartment complex, swiping your key card and launching yourself inside, the scuffle of shoes being heard just outside the slammed shut door.

“Please, [Name], let me in. We can talk this out, Ma.”

Miles begged, knocking on the complexs’ back door.

"They were gonna jump you, [Name].”

“I don’t believe you.”

Your voice came out shaking, confused and *scared. You’d known he’d been capable of violence. It was adamant in the way he wouldn’t flinch at a hit, or the scars that coated his exposed skin.

But this? A man who’s killed people? Who was going to do it again had you not been a witness.

“I—“ You whined, voice giving out and tears finally breaking the surface of your waterline. “I’ve seen you—,” The back of your head hit the metal door and you sobbed silently. “,—On the news.”

Outside the thin steel, Miles sighed, guilt weighing his chest down heavy. He got sloppy, and paid the price. His anger, rage toward these men. And what they’d planned to do to you — he’d say it was justified. You’d say it was monstrous.

“You kill people, Miles.”

His heart broke at the tone of your voice, the quiet sniffles and shortened sobs. The way your voice cracked and broke under the pressure of your open heart.

“Ma, I—“

“I don’t wan’ hear it.”

His hands rest on the cooled metal, forehead pressing against it as he sighed.

“Please let me in.”

“I can’t.”

“[Name]. Chiquita, por favor.”

He’d begged, ready to get on his knees and stand out in the 40° (104°) heat, and wait until you opened the door. Even if it took days.

Although,

“I’ll break in.”

“Wha—,” you cut yourself off in a sobbing laugh, rubbing at your tear tracked face. “Miles, That’s not a very good bargaining chip.”

He smiled, closing his eyes and loving the sweetened tone you held. You weren’t scared of him, you were scared of the Prowler.

“‘Made you laugh.”

His accent thickened over the words, dragging them out in a rasping hush. Something only for you to hear.

Your resolve was breaking, lungs slowing to a calmed lull as the adrenaline left your body. You didn’t break though— couldn’t.

“I can’t—,” You looked to the ceiling of your apartment’s ground floor, standing in an empty back room. “,—You’re not good, Miles.”

“You helped them, before.” Your brows furrowed, not of anger, but of betrayed desperation.

“You.. You just watched—“

“I know, baby, I know.”

He opened his eyes again, staring at the door like it had attacked you.

“Go upstairs, yeah?”

“Why—“

“Just go on, Ma.”

You huffed out a slow breath, fight draining from your being. You wanted to yell, to scream at him how wrong of a man he was. How he couldn’t risk everything he had for you, not now. Not as the estranged people you were.

You wanted to show the anger you never could, reach that brink of anguish until you’d finally given him what he’d wanted since your moment of meeting. But he no longer wanted that.

He’d always wanted you to break, now he just wants you.

“Okay.” You were breathless and tired, coerced.

He lifted his head quickly, hands splayed against cooled metal curling into fists, an excitement running through him like that of a promise.

—

A minute later you were opening the door to your apartment, and locking it behind you. Anxiously making your way to your bedroom, worried to see what was inside, When you stepped inside, you weren't exactly surprised when your eyes landed on Miles' face, what had surprised you though — was that he was hanging off your window sill with a sheepish smile on his face.

"Now will you let me in?" His voice muffled through the glass and you breathed out a quick gasp, "You— Miles, get down!"

"Down?" He smirked, letting one of his hands drop from the wooden sill. "Oh my god!"

You rushed towards your window, discarding your phone on your bed carelessly. You slid your window up, as Miles laughed, swaying from his one hand. "Jesus Miles— are you trying to kill yourself?!"

He crawled through and you grabbed his free hand, dragging him inside. "Get—.. get." Giving up on your scolding half way through, you quickly ushered him towards your bed and turned to close your window.

"When you said 'Go up.' I didn't think yo—"

"I'm sorry.'

Your hands were left floating above your windowsill, shaking in still air. Miles had come up behind you, hands resting over your hips, toying with the hem of your shirt. His face lowered towards your ear voice dipping with it.

"I know you're mad— hate me, all that. 'S okay. I know—,"

He slowly moved his arms further around your waist, watching your breath hitch and the feel of your pulse under the blow of his breath.

",—And I'm sorry."

"I don't hate you."

"You don't hate anyone."

You relaxed into his hold, tears brimming forth again.

"You keep—" "Scaring you." "Yeah." He dragged his left hand down, trailing his fingers over the skin of your arms and watching as the bumps rose along your flesh. You were entrancing.

"Are you scared now, Mami?" He grabbed your wrist in a gentle hold, swiping his bloodied thumb over your smooth skin. Your hand twitched, and his thumb stopped.

"No." You flipped your hand into his, linking your fingers together, careful to not agitate his bruises.

"Would you hurt me?" He reciprocated, closing his fist over your own, the flick of pain felt like nothing— not when the aching in his chest was finally being calmed.

"Never again."

—

DUDE MY PHONE IS FUCKING BROKEN LOLLL

no ending image today im on my laptop (fucking cries)

translator (bbg) @sataraxia

taglist!! @red-riot-rat , @stvrfir3 , @erensbbg , @umawooma , @wisteriaflowersss , @inejsknifes , @meowsannie , @manduse , @rainy-darling , @riya1161 , @key-zee , @toasttew , @em711 , @starsval , @gemma42 , @lovelymiaablogs

#miles morales x reader #spiderverse x reader #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles x reader #earth42!miles x reader #earth42!miles #miles morales x you #miles g

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redsaurrce · 1 year

Text

LOVE SHOT - TEASER

synopsis 💉 Where jk becomes the part of an experiment where he wasn't supposed to take the love shot but ends up taking it in high dose and gets obsessed with yn by mistake

pairing 💉 YANDERE Scientist!jeon jungkook x Scientist!fem reader

genre 💉 scientist!au , main fic contains HEAVY smut (minors DNI)

teaser word count 💉 1,580

warnings 💉 -- of the main fic-- kissing, profanity, jungkook is horny AF, cumming, overstimulation, fingering, cock warming, bathroom sex, BDSM, unhealthy obsession, hella possesive, jungkook whines like a fucking loser, he's in need of too much touch, boobplay, nippleplay, neck biting, manipulative man in da household y'all- like is it his fault?? huh??

💞Doses to be prescribed everyday

Dose 1 💉

Dose 2 💉

Dose 3 💉

Dose 4 💉

Dose 5

taglist 💉 @aajjks @effielumiere @dearsullix @canarystwin @yourslut16 @imwithurmother @perfectlyfangirling @pnibts @bloodline1632 @hopeonysus @roundedreluv12 @jub-jub @maqsxi @kooscameras @jungkooksleftbigtoe13 @thatblena @yawnyanii @viridiphile @milkxgukk @outro-kook @puppiliciouslove @mata0-0mata @pk-jimin @jungchanie @ziraspells @twisted-loved @lunaofsun @inlovewithallmusic @sassyfoxunknown @teugiie @hsaranghoe @jjhmk @mryuyux @xxoverthinkerxx @fandems @hollyverday @ohmygodddsblog @fly-on-the-wall @lookformyvoice @slutforwwh @shakashakaa @meikoo @emochicksasukeee @dearly-somber

@mymomsaid-no @madnesstaking0ver @miyoung23 @outofst1le @jiminstreble @kanvis @k3lynn @imagine-this-motherfucker @dontcallmeelle @jkbabiey @1-in-abillion @bangmechanpls @uarmyhore @devils-blackrose @hrndez2008 @azur3s @erennjim @cherryunie @vynmin @fragmentof-indifference (dm/ comment/ send an ask to be tagged)

"Divorce cases are increasing at an alarming rate among Koreans, young adults are facing heartbreak more than often. Love is no more in the air, it's the gloomy winds that are gushing past us." You stopped reading the newspaper and sighed, "See? Even my woman is feeling wary about our relationship." The man sitting on the couch in front of you commented.

"Chief, I told you that we are almost done with the formula, we are in the testing mode now." You said while folding the newspaper and keeping it aside.

"Yeah of course, you have been saying that since a month now." Your chief said with dissatisfaction. You pursed your lips, "Please don't worry, we know the project is getting delayed but chief, you know better than us how important testing before marketing is. As soon as we are ready to launch the product, you and your wife will be the very first couple to receive our sample." You said and stood up to leave after bowing. "Yeah whatever, but be quick." He waved his hand as he dismissed you from his office.

As soon as you got out from the office, you received a notification from Instagram. Ye Jun, your high school classmate had posted a pic.

When you opened it, it was a class reunion photo with your ex and his current girlfriend in the frame, you hurriedly liked it and shut close your phone. The breakup with your ex was bitter and you spent days pondering over why he would breakup with you. "It was awful dating you. Why don't you date your career instead?" Were his words.

All the times when he was busy preparing for his Civil service examinations, you stayed by his side even though he couldn't afford to give you much time, it was understandable. But when it came to your career building, why did he become a jerk then?

Even thinking about him makes your blood boil, what is the use of making artificial love doses if one's heart wants something else? You leaned against the wall, your breakup wasn't based on fading hormones due to the increase of pollution of all sorts. Then those like you, would they be able to keep their love intact with the love shots?

Maybe not. But those who are desperate to stay in love, maybe for them the love shot can grant them their wishes. You smiled slightly at the thought.

Ah! You almost forgot to check the testing that was going on in the lab so you thought of going back to the headquarters.

Meanwhile in the lab, scientist Jeon Jungkook and his assistant, Gi Shin-won were running the test.

The test include providing the subject a dose of love shot and made them look at the opposite gender or same if necessary. The shot only works under two conditions,

The first person they look at after taking the love shot will be the one they'll feel the feelings of love unravel.

Normally works better if they have feelings of infatuation or affection even in the slightest towards the person they're looking at.

for the shot to stay affective, they need to take it every fourteen days and once the relationship has been mended, they can stop taking it and their relationship will continue on the virtue of their true feelings.

As Jungkook and his assistant noted the observation, one of the female subjects raised her hand. "Yes how may I help you?" Jungkook asked.

"Uhm.. as you can see that we've already signed the contract where it says that the experiment we are taking part in, is entirely under our willingness and if anything goes wrong then you guys won't be held responsible. I know I shouldn't question this as I willfully signed the consent papers but .. still I'm kind of worried, you see?"

He nodded, "I completely understand your concern mam, the thing is the moment we are done taking the observations, we're also providing everyone with antidotes of this shot, so if you're worried about falling in love with a stranger, it will only last a few hours and then the symptoms will wear off with our antidote." He reassured.

"Uh.. I know that. Well, yesterday one of my friends took it and said that she felt hot and all, I'm actually worried because I have a child to take care of so..." She trailed off in doubt.

"Ah? So that is what was concerning you? You thought this might be fatal?" He asked with curiosity. "No no no.. I mean.." "it's okay, I get it. Wait let me then try it on, when we said that we have put our blood, sweat and tears in it, we weren't kidding." He chuckled as he sat down on the chair where the subjects for experiment were supposed to sit on.

He opened his lab coat and folded up the sleeves of his shirt exposing his forearm to take the injection, "Shin-won please inject the shot." He requested.

His assistant gulped, "But you were supposed to observe?"

"It's alright, I can just take the antidote and Y/N will be here soon so she will continue the observation along with you." He said with a confident smile as he closed his eyes.

Shin-won slowly nodded as he thought of giving in to his pleas, he connected the wires to Jungkook's scalp and then picked up a syringe and injected 5ml of the love shot in his arm. Then an attractive lady walked in front of him and Shin-won told him to open his eyes, when Jungkook looked at the said lady, he felt nothing, the brain waves also saw no change as Shin-won looked at the monitor.

Which was normal, usually when the subject shows no change in his hormones, another person is shown to them. If no real life person catches their attention then they are shown the photos of celebrities.

Because who doesnt have celebrity crushes?

So another lady appeared in front of him, still no change. This kept going until the sixth person he saw. Shin-won sighed, "Do you by-chance have any celebrity crushes or someone you have as a girlfriend slash boyfriend slash crush?" He asked.

"I don't." He gulped as he lied, he had his biggest and fattest crush on you.

But how could he take your name as his crush and practically reveal it to everyone thus blowing his chance off even before he could do anything? Shin-won was a loud mouth afterall.

He continued, "How about you increase the dose by 5 ml? It worked at 10ml in case of subject 067 right?" He asked. Shin-won raised his eyebrows, "nice memory huh? Wait then let me inject another 5ml. Close your eyes." And Jungkook closed his eyes as his assistant prepared a fresh syringe.

"There! Now open your eyes." He instructed.

In much disappointment, he still showed no hormonal changes, Shin-won clicked his tongue in frustration, "Are scientists supposed to be extra immune or what?" He gritted his teeth but just then he got an idea.

He unlocked his phone and searched for racy pics of Hollywood celebrities, "What about this?" Shin-won suddenly flashed the pic in front of Jungkook and Jungkook immediately gasped while closing his eyes in reflex, "remove that from my face you brat!"

Shin-won removed his phone with a defeated face, "at least this should have worked for you."

Jungkook opened his eyes and looked at him in disbelief, "Do you take me for a horny teenager or something? Nudes of white women? Seriously?" He raised his eyebrows, only if the wires weren't still connected he would've smacked his assistant.

Jungkook bit his lower lip, "Give me another 5ml." He commanded.

Shin-won's eyes became wide, "What? No way! No subject has ever taken this dose above 10 ml!" Jungkook shook his head, "Then let me be that subject alright? Hurry up now." He said as he shifted in his seat comfortably and closed his eyes.

"I'll be getting killed tonight by Y/N." He said while arranging a new syringe. "I'm sure she'll understand me, afterall we need to distribute to all sorts of people, who knows how much is a lot? Maybe through me, you all will find out?" He said with his eyes still closed.

"We are already 3 times above the safe limit, are you sure?" He asked Jungkook for the last time while pointing the injection towards his arm.

"Yes ofcourse, we need to also know how much antidote should be taken to counteract the effects of such a large portion of this dose." He answered.

"Fine." His assistant said and finally injected the shot.

Just then you entered the lab and got surprised as you saw Jungkook on the subject's seat, "What the hell?" You looked at them in shock. Jungkook involuntarily opened his eyes to look at you and Shin-won looked at you as well. But just when he was about to explain to you, a beep sound shifted all three of yours attention towards the screen.

The hormonal change graph was steepingly rising and Shin-won started to panic and started searching for the antidote while Jungkook started feeling hotter with each passing second. You quickly ran over towards him and disconnected all the wires. Just as you went near the monitor, you heard a large thud from behind.

Your eyes went wide as you saw Jungkook's collapsed body on the ground.

The last words he heard before going blank were his name being called repeatedly in your muffled voice slowly fading out.

--x

To be continued...

DOSE 1

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endless-ineffabilities · 2 years

Text

don't you love me?

Aemond Targaryen x f!Reader

part one of the prūmia va perzys (heart on fire) series

part two - and what of your love? ▪︎ masterlist

themes: angst, angst, angst, dragonrider!reader (though her house is not stated)

The reader is Aemond's lover, but when the civil war broke out, she sided with the Blacks, supporting Rhaenyra's claim to the throne. One night, she and Aemond meet, and attempt to make the other see reason.

You begin your descent, willing your dragon to lower herself to the ground. You see Vhagar from a distance, and notice that Aemond is already waiting for you below.

He had sent you a letter, requesting to meet in this secluded field, the place so familiar and dear to both of you, where you've spent hours upon hours together.

Aemond, your dearest love. Now, also, your enemy.

When the civil war began, you naturally sided with Rhaenyra, whom you believe to be the rightful heir to the throne. This drew you and Aemond apart, two star-crossed lovers on warring sides. You knew he would never abandon his loyalties, as much as you wish his loyalty to you would be even greater. A reason why you agreed to meet him now, is that you wish to convince him towards your objective. And, well, you desperately missed him.

You dismount from your dragon, your boots roughly hitting the ground. Aemond stands calmly, waiting for you to come closer.

You stop a few feet away from him. He may have been your lover, but you now have reason to be wary of him. He makes no move, staring at you intently, his arms still at his sides.

"Aemond," you say his name, missing the way it sounds.

He loosens his stance a little, "You came."

"Of course I came."

"Hmm," he makes his usual noise, "I didn't think you would."

You take a tentative step forward, still keeping your guard up, "You are still my Aemond."

This breaks him, so he strides quickly to you, and envelops you in his arms.

"My love," he mumbles against your hair, "I have longed for you."

"As I have you, my love," you feel home in his arms.

You break apart, but his hold on you remains, keeping you close.

You move your hand to caress his face, and he leans into it fondly.

"I wish we didn't have to be apart," you whisper truthfully.

"We no longer have to be. You must come with me," he says fervently.

"Come with you?", you ask, confused.

"You must abandon your allegiance with the Black Queen. My brother Aegon is the rightful king..."

"Aemond," you start to protest.

He continues, "He is the rightful king. This was my father's dying wish."

"Aemond, you know in your heart that he would have never wished Aegon be king. His chosen heir has always been his firstborn daughter Rhaenyra. What your family has done is treason! You must listen-"

"My mother swears that those were his dying words," he pulls away from you, "so do you mean to call my mother a liar?"

"No, I'm not saying that!", you start to become frustrated, "but she must have misinterpreted his words. He was barely of sound mind in his final days. He may have been rambling or he may have believed himself to be speaking to someone else."

"So now you insult my father!", his tone grows menacing, and he paces in frustration.

"Aemond, you know me. And you know I have good reason to believe what I believe."

He takes a deep breath, and looks at you, "I will not abandon the rightful cause. I will not turn my back on my family."

Your heart sinks at his words. Although you already expected that this would happen, you still hoped.

You try not to shed a tear, but it's a struggle, as you feel that this may be the end of what you and Aemond have.

"Aemond, please," your voice breaks, and his face falls at your expression. He may be angry, but he still loves you more than anything. He doesn't enjoy seeing you in pain.

"I don't wish to fight you," his voice softens, and he reaches for you once more, "come back with me. Marry me, and be my wife. Stand by me and be my strength, my love."

"Aemond," a tear falls down your face, and he promptly rubs it off with his thumb, "I can't do that."

"Don't you love me?"

"I love you," you say, "I love you."

"Then please, come with me," he gets on one knee, and your heart breaks, "Marry me."

"My love," you lower yourself down to him, taking his hands, and he leans his forehead against yours.

Tears streaming down your face, you kiss him. Using all of your love, you kiss him. He returns the kiss passionately, gripping your face, whispering I love yous, in between.

It takes all of your strength to pull away, and finally say, "I love you, but I have to go."

You can't bear to look at his face, and you don't look back as you walk away, leaving him kneeling on the ground.

As you begin to leave, and your dragon takes flight, you hear him.

Aemond Targaryen raised his head, and screamed desperately and savagely toward the night sky.

You were gone, and so was his heart.

💔💔💔

This was again written in a rush, in a matter of minutes, after watching way too many Aemond edits 🤷‍♀️

I'm so not ready to hate him after the finale...

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x y/n #endless oneshots

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bubblegumspacebxtch · 1 year

Text

Melting the Dragon's Heart

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Female Reader

Word Count: 6.3K

Summary: They say opposites attract but can profound differences really find it in them to love?

Warnings || angst but then fluff at the end

A/N: I haven't written in so long, but this man has forced me out of hiatus because he's just so dreamy. The murdering, white-haired menace that is Aemond Targaryen does things to me so naturally I had to write this long ass fic. I know it's long but I couldn't help it really. Also I was in the mood for some angst so that's that lol

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As the saying goes, hearts unalike are those most drawn to one another. Aemond thought it a ridiculous belief. He could not fathom it were possible for gentle and kind to love cold and cruel.

He was aloof and indifferent. Prince Aemond curated an image that made even the most proud of lords hesitate to interact with him. Complementary to his nature was his looks. The man stood tall and firm with his chin often upturned as if to reiterate his high status. His scowl seemingly permanent like the scar that ran across his face. Many fear what lay underneath his eyepatch that even having it covered leave people wary of the Targaryen prince.

Though he was not always this ironhearted, the young prince knew that love was an illusion and marriage a duty. Aemond believed only his mother could love him and even she could not do so fully. To some extent he understood why love for the likes of him would always sound ridiculous. Because it was far better to be feared than loved. And no one could love a monster like him.

You had.

You who is pure and spirit bright. You who is social and could sympathize with anyone regardless of status.

You were Aemond Targaryen’s antithesis. Your humility and generosity knew no bounds. Unlike the prince’s seriousness, you were lighthearted. You believed in love and never hesitated to love who you could.

Not only in nature were you and the prince contrary to one another, but also in looks. You were small and would often need to look up in order to maintain eye contact when conversing. Your head of curls the color of ink as opposed to the renowned white of the Targaryen bloodline.

You grew up with Aemond and his siblings seeing as you were the lady-in-waiting to his sister Helaena. You often left the young prince wondering how such goodness could be possessed by an individual, especially given your circumstance.

Being an orphaned bastard of House Westerling, you’ve learned to bury the pain brought by the judgment of others. You have swallowed many vile insults and hate, but never had you let it harden your heart. Your mother died in childbirth and your father you never knew. Fortunate enough, your uncle took you as his own which allowed you to be in the good graces of the king.

You arrived in King’s Landing when you were eleven and the prince thirteen. Aemond committed to memory the very moment your light filled him with awe.

------------

His eye was already lost and though it had already healed, the pain and anger he felt still a roaring flame.

“I want you all to treat her well.”

While his brother rolled his eyes at their mother’s reminder, Aemond simply dismissed her. In his mind, he need not be reminded because he was more or less civil and distant with everyone, especially new people.

The hinges sang lowly as the massive doors to the throne room opened to announce your entrance. A contagious smile adorned your face as you walked alongside the Hand.

Aemond could not deny that even as a child you were captivating. The grace and pureness your persona exude was what kept the room’s attention on you.

“Your Grace.”

Their mother watched with a smile as you curtsied. As you resumed standing upright, you turned your attention to each of the Targaryen children as they were introduced.

“And this is Prince Aemond.”

He seemed to snap back to attention at the mention of his name, having been admiring the dewy skin of your supple pink cheeks.

“Pleased to be in your presence, Prince Aemond.”

Your smile gave way to dimples and the prince felt his heartbeat stutter. Though you made him feel an oddly pleasant sensation between his ribs, his response was anything but. He gave only a curt nod, but your smile never wavered despite his indifference.

------------

With the passing of time you only became even kinder. Aemond once thought you may have been blessed to have your outsides reflect your insides. Your positivity was accompanied by beauty he has yet to see on anyone else in the entire Seven Kingdoms. He would marvel at your soft eyes and full lips before growing bitter at the thought that if you had been blessed then he must have been cursed. The misery and abhorrence he kept inside must be why he had a monster for a reflection.

Before you, it was easy for Aemond to get caught up in self-loathing and insecurity. That was until you showed him genuine affection.

------------

He was training with Sir Criston while you were with the princess looking to find a chrysalis she wished to take care of before it transformed into a butterfly.

Aemond was so focused on trying to dodge the knight’s advances that he failed to notice his cover had fallen to reveal his other eye. The gasps were audible but Aemond was quick to drop his sword to cover himself. You watched him storm off to the castle to his chambers. The unwanted attention had him almost in a frenzy with adrenaline allowing him so make his swift escape.

You watched the scene with a heavy heart, growing upset as the people around who had witnessed the affair started to whisper about the one-eyed prince. You noticed his eyepatch still on the ground and you took it with the intent of returning it and checking up on him.

“Princess, I believe we must be heading back. We would not want your mother to have to wait for you for tea time.”

After being dismissed, you made your way to the younger prince’s chambers.

Aemond had a tight grip on his chalice as he mulled over what had happened. By now his head felt lighter given the amount of wine he had. Drinking was his brother’s way of coping and Aemond wanted no part of him to resemble Aegon, but given the circumstance he allowed himself this bit of irresponsibility.

The sound of your knuckles against his door was so faint that he almost ignored it, but your sweet voice soon followed.

“My prince, I come returning what is yours.”

Even through his sour mood you managed to find your way past as your voice brought him a bit of peace, granting him a break from his harsh thoughts.

“May I come in?”

His mind, the sober part at least, wanted to deny your request knowing you saw his face bare. He feared the heartbreak. What if you regard him with caution or even worse, disgust?

His heart however longed for you. And so before he could decide otherwise, he said, “Come in.”

The creak of the door made him nervous. He refused to face you directly, settling on watching you from his peripheral.

You stood close to the door once it was closed, awaiting further instruction. For a few seconds you studied him. His other eye was again covered by a different eyepatch. His hair was no longer tied, leaving it to frame his face.

“You may sit, Lady Y/N.”

The prince had gestured to the seat next to him. You inhaled deeply before your small feet carried you across the room. The prince watched your every move and he noted how your silver dress made you glow, providing a contrast to your dark hair and eyes.

As you sat, you brought your hands together on your lap and only then did Aemond notice what you were holding. The sight of his eyepatch made him tense and soon an awkward tension filled the space as you sat in silence.

“You must think me a monster now.”

“Your Grace, you are no monster in my eyes. I wish you shared my opinion because it is the truth.”

Your response had him turning to face you and he felt his heartbeat pick up. Your eyes have always been so expressive and where he expected pity to lie he saw adoration and genuine concern instead.

Upon meeting his eye, your smile widened. You so desperately wanted to be there for him and alleviate whatever troubles him.

“Your eye should not be cause for judgement. It is one’s character that ought to be looked at.”

“And what is my character?”

“You are thoughtful. I appreciate how you would leave me books you believe I would enjoy or bring me pastries you’d want me to try. You are bright and respectful. The conversations you hold are of an educated man. You are immensely loyal to not only those you love but to your house as well.”

By the time you had finished speaking, the space between you two was barely there. You stared at each other for what felt like centuries before a small smile broke out on the prince’s face. You admired the way his lips curved, fascinated by the depth of his prominent cupid’s bow.

An unknown force compelled you to touch the left side of his face and your bravery raised your hand to do so. Before you could move further, the prince caught your wrist in a gentle hold.

He stared at you, beginning to feel nervous, but your will remained steadfast. Your hand landed on his cheek, caressing his scar and before the prince could react, you moved to rid him of his cover.

“Y/N-”

His protests died on his tongue as the bright sapphire was revealed to you and he watched your pupils dilate in wonder. He had never before felt so vulnerable, but your touch put him at ease.

The pair of you remained in silence like that for gods know how long. Then you whispered in earnest.

“Beautiful…”

------------

The sound of your laughter traveled down the hall. Aemond could feel his insides twist in delight as he drew closer towards his sister’s chambers.

“Brother? What a lovely surprise.”

Your back was facing the door when he entered. You watched the princess smile at her brother before turning to address him yourself. The sight of you knocked the wind out of Aemond.

A butterfly lay on your cheek and the other at the exposed skin of your clavicle. You looked ethereal and Aemond swore he felt giddy seeing you so lovely.

“My chrysalises have finally turned into butterflies! We opened the jar to free them but they flew to Lady Y/N instead.”

Princess Helaena was amused at how smitten the prince was with you. She had to refrain from giggling as she carefully removed the insects on you before catching her brother's attention.

“What is it you came for, brother?”

It was a physical effort for Aemond to take his eye off you and you felt your cheeks warm at the attention.

“Oh… uh mother requests to see you in her chambers.”

“Now? But I promised Lady Y/N I’d walk with her through the gardens.”

"Your Grace, we do not have to if-"

"I can walk with her! If... of course, Lady Y/N allows it..."

Prince Aemond was rarely embarrassed, but in that moment he could not avoid being bashful at how eager he sounded to spend time with you.

"I am sure you have better use of your time, Prince Aemond."

"Nonsense, Lady Y/N. I insist."

As Princess Helaena left, you and the prince made your way to the castle gardens. You prayed to the gods he could not hear the erratic beat of your heart at his close proximity.

"Let me take this time to say my thanks to you, Lady Y/N."

"What ever for, your Grace?"

"You have never failed to be kind and patient with my sister. Many see her odd, but you regard her in no such way."

Your heart swelled at his appreciation and Aemond felt his own do the same as you faced him with your wide grin and doe eyes.

"I suppose I am grateful that your kindness extends to me as well. It is rare that I am regarded with as much compassion as you have shown me."

You are taken aback by the prince's admission and he gave you a tender smile in return.

"There is no need to thank me, my prince. I only wish more people could witness how beautiful and gentle you truly are..."

------------

The young prince could not contain his bliss as he walked back to his chambers after his time with you. There was a skip in his step with his scowl now absent from his face. That was until he opened his door to reveal his brother waiting for him in his chambers.

Aemond slightly faltered at his brother looking at him with a sly smirk. The younger Targaryen was quick to school his features, returning to the cold expression he always wore.

"What are you doing here, Aegon?"

"I saw you with Lady Y/N and my my I could not believe what I was witnessing."

Aemond raised his eyebrow at his brother and Aegon chuckled lightly before continuing.

"I never thought a simple bastard would catch the eye of a man as proud as you, my brother."

"What are you talking about?" Aemond hissed, glaring at an amused Aegon.

"You mean to say you harbor no fondness for the girl?" his brother teased back.

"Do not dare insult me, brother. I have no intention of ever associating myself with a lowborn orphan such as her. I am a prince after all so I would be careful with implying something so ridiculous."

Unbeknownst to Aemond, you were right outside his door. You had the intent of returning a book he had lent you, but stopped short upon hearing the two princes.

You tried to hold in your tears at the offensive remarks made to your name. Your heart shattered and you felt the shards stab at your insides.

It was not easy to admit, but you had developed feelings for the younger prince. His rare smile that you thought was more common when you were around. The difference in the attention he would give you compared to any other. All these things made you believe that maybe he saw you in the same light. That maybe he too felt he could not breathe whenever you were around. At the very least, you thought he regarded you as a dear friend, just like you had him.

Only after hearing what he had to say about you did you think otherwise. You were mistaken. Blinded by your want to have your affections reciprocated, you failed to notice how different your ambitions were from the truth.

He did not love you. He may not even see you as anything more than a servant he has had to live with these past years. You had set yourself up for heartbreak by creating a delusion of loving the prince and being loved back.

The hold you had on the book loosened and before you could stop it, a small thud echoed from it falling. That snapped you out of your thoughts. As fast as your feet allowed, you made your way out of the hall and on your way back to your chambers.

------------

Aegon soon left his brother's chambers and the younger prince heaved a heavy exhale. Aemond did not wish to ridicule you to his brother, but he wouldn't dare acknowledge his adoration for you either. Not because he was ashamed of having feelings for you, but because he knew making it known would remind him of the rejection that is guaranteed. You could not love him, that much he knew, so he denied what he felt.

A knock on his door brought him out of his thoughts. After giving his permission, a servant had revealed herself holding the book you had dropped moments ago.

"Why is this in your possession?"

"I found it outside your door, Prince Aemond. I only wish to return what I believe is yours."

------------

You made it a point to avoid the prince at all costs. Your fragile heart would simply crumble to even finer pieces if you were to be in his presence again. You stopped going to the library and would now convince the princess to avoid wandering to places you knew Aemond would be. You stayed in your chambers more, only leaving when the princess was in need of you.

Almost a week had passed and Aemond thought you had vanished into thin air with how little he's seen you. He now only caught glimpses of you not often which left his heart aching. At some point he resorted to seeking you out by going to your chambers all the way across the Keep.

With the book in his other hand, the silver-haired prince raised the other to knock on your door. He waited with bated breath and his heart leapt at finally seeing you again after what felt like decades.

It was obvious you weren't expecting him and the prince's stomach dropped upon seeing how your smile faltered.

"Prince Aemond... How may I be of service to you?"

Now the confusion was noticeable on Aemond's face. Never had you addressed him with such formality.

"I thought to return this to you so you may finish reading it. You must have left it somewhere because a servant returned it to me."

"Your Grace, I am a person of no importance to have a prince make an effort to hand me books. I believe it best you no longer do so."

You made no eye contact with him as you twiddled with your thumbs and the prince could not stop his smile from turning into a frown.

"Lady Y/N, trust that I do this wholeheartedly. You are no bother to me as I am gladdened by the love of reading we share."

"Pardon me, your Grace, but there is no need for you to pretend any longer. I know what you think of me and am aware you do not want the likes of me near you."

It was a heavy task to not cry despite feeling the heaviness of your spirit become unbearable. Aemond so desperately wanted you to lift your head to face him, but as soon as you did, his heart felt like it took a punch.

Your eyes were glassy and your features forlorn. The sight of you sent the prince scrambling for a response that would comfort you.

"That could not be further from the truth. Y-You are my dearest friend, Y/N... I-"

"I believed you were a friend to me as well, but I heard you with Prince Aegon. Though I know you spoke the truth. The truth being that I am a lowborn bastard. I-I cannot deny how it pains me so to hear you regard me with such contempt."

By now the tears have flown freely down your face. The prince's chest tightened seeing you shake as you succumbed to your heartache.

"Forgive me f-for wasting even m-more of your time, Prince Aemond."

You cringed at your pathetic apology given you could not stop the hiccups from your cries. You made an attempt to close the door, but Aemond beat you to it, placing a hand on the wood and pushing to let himself in your space.

"Y-Your Grace, please... Y-You mustn't-"

His hands on your face catches you off guard, lifting it so that you may look up at him. With gentle fingers, he wiped your tears, and you couldn't help closing your eyes at the gesture.

"It is I who should be begging for your forgiveness, Y/N... I-I did not mean those words. It was not my intention to hurt you. I would never dream of hurting you, my dear Y/N. I-I simply wanted Aegon to leave me alone. I didn't want him to know..."

You raised your eyebrows as the prince trailed off. Aemond felt his heart was to burst out of his clothes soon and drop to the floor. He had to tell you now. Rejection or not, he must make it known that he would never willingly hurt you, the one person whose presence reminds him that he still has a heart and that he is worth more than his title.

"I did not want him to know that... that I care for you deeply. You have enraptured my heart and soul with the unwavering kindness you have bestowed to someone as unworthy as me."

Your eyes widen at the prince but he continues his speech as he moves to decrease the distance between you two even more.

"It is your laughter that calms me and when I close my eyes, it is the image of your smile painted on the back of their lids. When we are together and you tell me of what you've read, I find myself daydreaming of a life with you. How I would offer everything I have in exchange for your hand."

"Prince Aemond, w-what are you saying..."

"I am saying I love you, Y/N. Most ardently."

You gasped upon hearing his words and the prince moved his hands to hold yours.

"What I said to my brother was in fear of rejection for I have denied my feelings knowing they are one-sided. It was childish of me to turn to insults to reject what I feel so strongly for you and I regret having upset you. I-I understand if you wish to never speak to me again..."

With his head bowed and gaze to the floor, the prince did not see the smile that was back on your face.

"Oh Aemond, you fool!"

Before he could make eye contact to decipher what you meant, you had let his hands go in favor of wrapping them around him in an embrace as you lunged forward. The prince was quick to secure your waist in his arms. He heard you giggle in his ear before pulling back to be face to face with him.

"Your feelings are my own, my prince. I too love you a great deal."

Several emotions washed over Aemond all at once, but it was relief that was undeniable. He mirrored the bright smile on your face as your arms remained on his shoulders and his on your hips.

"I did not think it were possible for someone as beautiful and gentle as you to feel for someone like me." Aemond admitted, but you only leaned in to kiss him in response.

There was no greater pleasure than having your lips on his. Having the privilege of your love was comparable to being high up in the sky. He was in so much elation as your chest pressed to his when he tightened his hold on you.

"I love you, my beautiful prince. I am yours."

"Y/N... If you will have me... I desire nothing more than to be your husband."

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen angst #aemond x you #aemond targaryen fluff #hotd imagine

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blueiskewl · 5 months

Text

Archaeologists Find 73 Wari Mummy Bundles in Peru

A team of archaeologists from the PUCP Archaeology Program “Valley of Pachacámac” have uncovered over 70 intact burial bundles with carved masks.

The discovery was made at Pachacámac, an archaeological site in the Valley of the Lurín River, located southeast of Lima, Peru. Pachacámac (named after Pacha Kamaq – the “Earth Maker” creator god) was first settled around AD 200 by the Wari, a Middle Horizon civilisation.

Pachacámac mainly consists of pyramids, plazas, cemeteries, and a series of ramps, centred on a sacred zone containing the Painted Temple, the Temple of the Sun, and the Old Temple of Pachacamac.

Recent excavation results announced on the Archeowieści blog, which is managed by the Faculty of Archaeology of the University of Warsaw, have uncovered over 70 intact burial bundles dating from the second half of the Middle Horizon (AD 800–1100).

The burial bundles were found either deposited individually or in group clusters at the foot of the Painted Temple, some of which are wearing “false head” masks made of carved wood and ceramics, a common burial practice of the Wari culture.

Professor Makowski, said: “In the pre-Hispanic Andes, no-one died; everyone was predestined to continue living in the parallel world of their ancestors.”

Excavations also discovered wooden staffs with images of Wari elite wearing Tiwanaku-type headgear. They were located in a votive deposit covered with a layer of oyster shell fragments imported from Ecuador.

The Wari worshipped the Staff god, the chief creator god, which is often found in both portable and fixed art using different media such as stone, textile, and ceramics. Some scholars believe that some variations of the Staff God are possible depictions of Viracocha or Thunupa, and are the forerunner of the Inca principal gods – the Sun, Moon, and Thunder.

#Archaeologists Find 73 Wari Mummy Bundles in Peru #Pachacámac #ancient graves #ancient tombs #grave goods #ancient artifacts #archeology #archeolgst #history #history news #ancient history #ancient culture #ancient civilizations #wari

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flametrashiraarchive · 8 months

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Iguro fucking Obanai and this chubby reader he has the hots for like-

First time they meet, he's like-

Hell yes. Let's give this beautiful boy the soft cuddles he deserves. (My brain ran away with this, it has plot and everything. I've never written anything for Iguro before so it was really fun.)

Iguro Obanai x Chubby Reader

GN!Reader, NSFW below the cut.

Iguro is actually pretty closed off when you first meet him, (especially if you're a woman.) He's slow to trust people and keeps his distance.

He doesn't even really form an opinion on your looks. He could describe you in perfect detail if asked, but they don't affect him one way or the other. You're just there... to be wary of.

That is, until you're sent on a mission together. A long one.

It's a cold morning and you're a long way from civilization. The weak winter sun is barely up and you have time to rest. Iguro isn't tired so he offers to keep watch while you sleep in the little tent you've been taking turns in throughout your journey.

And while you sleep he's just sitting in a tree, thinking about how you're actually good company and he's feeling a lot more comfortable around you these days. You talk to him like he's normal, and that means the world to him.

Maybe he's even becoming... fond of you?

With a startled gasp he realizes Kaburamaru isn't around his neck.

Poor Iguro searches everywhere. His heart is thumping in his chest, because this is an unfamiliar place and it's cold and if he can't find the snake--- god he can't even think about it.

He's in such a panic he doesn't even think it through fully when he sticks his head inside the tent and...

his eyes widen.

You're fast asleep on your back, warm and peaceful in the shelter of the tent. You've taken off your uniform and you're just wearing underwear (and the snake, which is draped across your chest and belly, drawn in by your body heat.)

Your eyes spring open, perhaps sensing there's someone watching you or maybe realizing what's on top of you.

Iguro's eyes widen... for multiple reasons.

You're going to freak out. You're going to think he's a pervert and call him filth. You're going to panic when you realize Kaburamaru is slithering over you. You might even try to hurt him.

oh shit oh shit oh shit

But you don't do any of that. You just look down and greet the snake with a soft laugh and allow Iguro to gently remove his companion.

You're... kind... and understanding... and so so... comforting.

Iguro's breath catches in his throat and that's where it stays every time he looks at you afterward.

And the image of your soft, plush, barely-clad body... that stayed in his brain.

It's really all he could think about.

But it took A LOT for him to confess his feelings.

About a year after the tent incident (a year of pining and wishing, buying you little gifts which he assured you were nothing, coming to terms with the fact that getting close doesn't necessarily equal getting hurt) he finally asks you out.

"I know I'm unworthy of you... I know someone like me doesn't--"

You cut his sentence off with a soft kiss to his bandaged cheek. "Oh, Iguro. Of course I'm yours."

His little heart is practically vibrating.

There were a lot of emotional hurdles for him to overcome: telling you about his past, his upbringing, showing you his face without the bandages, letting you kiss his uncovered lips, learning that he was worthy of kissing you back, trusting you enough to be intimate with you.

But once he takes that leap?

Hoo boy

First off, he's an absolute pillow princess.

Iguro LOVES that you're bigger than him. He likes how soft and full your thighs are compared to his, he loves to grip them while you're on top of him, his slender fingers pressing into their plush softness.

(Side note: His legs tremble when you're riding him and he's getting close... he can't keep them still.)

HOWEVER, when he's on the precipice of climax he WILL thrust up into you, bracing his feet on the bed and gripping your hips.

His hands slither (see what I did there) all across your body, worshiping your every curve and fold with insatiable adoration.

The man is absolutely besotted with you.

Little spoon. Cuddle him please.

Apparently he was inspired by that time Kaburamaru fell asleep on you, because that's exactly how Iguro lies on you every time he comes home tired. Just sprawled across you, his head on your chest or belly as you stroke your hand up and down his spine. Sometimes he'll take his bandages off when he's super comfy and you get to see his soft, sleepy smile and the tiny hint of pink on his usually pale cheeks.

He is a huge fan of your arms too. He loves to be held by you, wrapped up all warm and secure.

If you have stretchmarks or really any scars you're self conscious about them he'll kiss every single one of them every single day and try to make you realize how worthy you are of all this love

because that's exactly what you do for him.

#obanai iguro #kny iguro #iguro x reader #iguro x you #obanai x reader #kny obanai #iguro obanai headcanons #iguro x chubby reader #obanai x chubby reader

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nsharks · 1 year

Text

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part six —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. reader menstruates. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: this was longer but i decided to break it up sorry :p

The last glimpse of civilization you had was a chaotic one.

It was the first day of the outbreak.

Freshly infected running around. Bodies scattered in the streets like dead flies. Screaming. Paul grabbing your hand and tugging you towards the treeline. Your nephew shrieking in your sister’s arms. It’s funny how trauma likes to grab hold of the minute details. You can also recall seeing a bus pass by with an ad for some superhero movie. You had planned on seeing it. The bus crashed into a house and the ad was licked by flames.

Paul was always the one to make the trips to pharmacies and markets. He was the one who wielded a gun, not you. You were the one to stay behind, fortify the fence, and watch over the two broken members of your family.

Society's dust— that is what you leave Ghost’s territory for.

You know you need to.

You wait for your period to end.

Freshly spilled blood is not a scent you want to carry. Greys are drawn to it like flies to rot. Something you learned the hard way once during a hunt with Paul. They were able to catch your scent from a further distance than usual because of it.

To your relief, Ghost lets you look at his map.

Of course, you can’t take it with you.

“Jus’ memorize it,” he grumbles under his breath.

So the evening before you venture out, you study the map of Northern England. Ghost brought out a whole stack of them from the room you’re certain is his. You notice a map of the European continent on top, briefly catching a glimpse of a black circle drawn in the middle somewhere, but he is quick to move it underneath the pile.

You focus on the one you need.

There is a black dot to indicate where their camp is amid the forest. Some 20 kilometers south is the closest city. Or village rather. Ribchester. Maybe that is a safer bet than going by yourself to a big city like Manchester. You may have a bow and knife and some strength, but you don't have a car or guns like he does. Or companions coming with you.

Blue helps you turn your pillowcase into a strapped bag with some scissors. You need something to carry what you find. Ghost isn't willing to let you leave with his backpack. Bitterly, you get it. It’s a useful item.

The next morning, you feel as prepared as you can be. You wake up earlier than usual, before Blue has the chance to poke inside your shed with Grim. You eat a big breakfast of two dried squirrels. You have a third one to take with you.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Blue picks at her breakfast as she sits beside you at the table. Her lips twist around thoughtfully.

You glance between her and Ghost. His stare is unreadable like usual. Dark, stoic, and hiding under lowered brows. You wonder what he thinks— if he would be secretly relieved if you don't make it back alive. Probably. He could get rid of you without Blue pointing the blame at him.

"Medicine is important. I need to find my own.”

We can’t risk sneaking anymore, you would say if he wasn’t right there. But by the way she slides her blue eyes to discreetly meet yours, you think she gets the hint.

"Just be careful, okay?" You nod. "And remember—" she lifts a finger, "—you have to shoot those fucks in the brain."

"I know. I've been practicing my aim a bit."

The smile you offer is only half-there. The truth is, you are risking your life with this. Part of you wonders how deeply she has processed that.

Despite her lips appearing more chewed-through than usual, they give a wary smile in return.

“Yeah, we could hear you hitting the trees. Right, Ghost?"

He hums low, but characteristically, doesn't have much to say about you.

But when you head for the cabin door after eating, his firm hand surprises you, gloved and skeletal. It wraps around your bicep and brings you to a halt before you can step outside. Heat spreads through his glove and the layers of your clothes. You turn around just as a metal object is silently offered to your chest. Ghost holds your stare before you look down at what he is giving you.

It's the revolver. The one they collected from that man.

The gun with only one cartridge.

"Thanks."

You bite your cheek to hide the dry tone, slipping the revolver into your coat pocket. Maybe it will come in handy. At least he now trusts you enough not to immediately point it at him or her.

Blue is the one to follow you out to the gate of their camp.

"I hope you find something good."

"Me, too."

"You know, Ghost and I only went on one trip that I can remember," she says as she unlocks the bolts for you.

"Yeah?"

"To get him more ammo from a military base," she explains with a wave of her hand. "It was pretty close, though. He says that we went on one other trip back to Manchester when things first happened, but he carried me on his back the whole time so I don't remember much except for all the loud sounds.”

This part she adds quietly: "Think I closed my eyes for most of it."

"I would have closed my eyes, too, Blue.”

The next glimpse of civilization you get is a desolate one.

Again, you are on your own. Though, maybe you’ve been alone this whole time in a way.

It is that weird time between winter and spring when the air is crisp but the sun is bright. You hope to complete the trip in one day, which gives you about nine hours. You walk and walk, leaving Ghost's familiar territory behind until the trees become new to you again. You’ve never gone south before. You stop by a creek to drink some water along the way. By high noon, you exit the forest for the first time in five years.

You can see it. Overgrown shrubs and dry vines that crawl over cracked concrete. A road. A billboard arches over with a peeled ad for shaving cream, the woman’s face looking mangled. Your bow is poised as you follow the highway towards the village, recalling a time when you used to take the bus ride down this very route to visit your sister’s home. You liked watching the trees and rolling hills pass through the window as you tucked your ears under headphones.

It is so strange.

The air is quiet with abandonment.

Briefly, you ache for a world that once existed and the life you once lived. Car rides. Music whenever you wanted. Drunk outings on the weekends when you were supposed to be studying for nursing school. Hope for a family of your own someday.

But you have to ignore all that to stay focused on the present. Now, life is whittled down to basic needs and protecting yourself the best you can.

The village soon appears as stone buildings with unkempt wisteria scaling the sides. Abandoned cars haphazardly parked throughout the streets. You keep your guard up and your nose flared as you approach. There is a faint, awful scent that looms in the air, but it is not strong enough to cause concern. Not yet.

A pharmacy.

You need to find one.

If you want to make it back to their camp by nightfall, then you can only waste about an hour or two here. You could spend the night in a tree and trek the 20 kilometers tomorrow, but sleeping in a branch is even more unpleasant than your shed and it is risky. You were willing to do it when you had no other choice, but what if some unfriendly people find you this time? Perhaps even unfriendlier than the threat of Ghost's knife to your neck.

An hour is killed just searching for the pharmacy.

You roam the empty streets.

Finally, you catch sight of the faded sign and your heart leaps. But the excitement fades away when your nose and eyes detect the group of Greys just outside the building in an empty parking lot. Their pale eyes aren’t pointed at you yet, so you move behind a crumpled car for cover. If you had gotten any closer, they surely would've smelled your human flesh.

You take a deep breath. How many are there?

Carefully, you poke your head out just an inch to survey the threat. Six of those fucks. That is doable given the range.

The last time you ran into Greys, you had no choice but to run because of the bow Ghost stepped on. This time, you can kill them off with the bow carved by his hands.

You are quick with it. You stand and release arrow by arrow. Four of the six are headshots. You aren't perfect. The last two receive arrows through their shoulders, but this type of wound means nothing to a Grey. It is their brains that are infected with the virus, just like Blue said.

These two begin running towards you, now catching a whiff of your scent.

You climb on top of the car. Hitting a running target is far trickier. You go for the faster one first, using two more arrows before hitting the skull, grey chunks of brain splattering onto the concrete. The slower one just barely reaches the car before you finish it off, the closer distance sharpening this final hit.

The pharmacy is reachable now.

As you run over, you gather the used arrows. Precious ammo. You pull them out of their bodies with a twist and a putrid squelch.

When you push through the doors to the pharmacy, you almost choke. The shelves— they are empty. You breeze through every aisle, eyes and hands seeking anything that could be left, but there is nothing. You check the back. You check the shelves behind the counter.

Empty, empty, empty.

“Oh, fuck me,” you croak. Hot tears spill down your cheeks.

You half expected this.

But you’ve come all this way.

You need something.

There must be somewhere else you can look.

The cars maybe. Most people used to keep med kits somewhere inside. There is a slight chance that one could’ve been forgotten. It is worth a try.

You keep moving, not wanting to return with an empty bag. The white sun hangs high. The dry air turns your tear-stained cheeks sticky. You pick up rocks to begin breaking the windows of the abandoned cars, poking your arm inside to undo the locks, and rummaging through the glove compartments.

CDs, magazines, condom wrappers.

Nothing.

“Please, please.”

You make it down the street like this, checking every single one. Distracted, you shatter the glass of a white sedan without noticing the shadow laying in the backseat.

Fingers wrap around your wrist as you reach for the inner lock.

A maggot-filled mouth lurches for the flesh of your hand.

An arrow won't work here. With a cry, you use your free hand to grab the revolver from your pocket and shoot its head. The sound echoes. The single bullet burrows right between its eyes. The Grey writhes for a moment before going limp against the seat.

Panting, you have to pry the bony fingers off your wrist.

Again, you search the glove compartment. In this car where the stench is thick enough to sicken you, a med kit and a Twix bar fall into your hands.

“Fuck— thank you.”

You stash both into your homemade bag.

You could leave now, but you are itching for some antibiotics. The kit will help you clean wounds without Ghost's help, but it won’t save you if you develop an infection.

The next idea you have is to check a house.

By the look of the sky, you can fit in at least two quick searches. You run over to the next street and kick at the front door of the first one you see. Nothing but knocked-over furniture and torn wallpaper. The bathroom cabinet is empty.

The next one you fight inside is decorated with furniture that smells like faded perfume. The first room you check is a bedroom. In the center, a full set of bones lies on the bed, void of any meat after God knows how long its been there. You try not to look at it. On the floor lies a pile of clothes. You could use some more, still dressed in the ones Ghost found you in. You don't even look at them, just grab what you can fit in your bag and move on to the bathroom.

Here, beside a pair of molded dentures, you find two half-full bottles of pills.

Amoxicillin.

Paracetamol.

You cry some more.

It's not much, but it is enough for now.

Your muscles are fatigued by the time you make it back.

You reek of sweat. It is a long walk. You run into a few more Greys but manage them. You eat the squirrel you brought.

Darkness covers the forest just when you spot the camp's fence in the distance. Relief. You actually did it. Some pride breathes into your tired lungs.

As you get closer, you make out two silhouettes leaving the gate. One is a girl who you tiredly smile at the sight of, and the other is a bulky tank.

You leap over the trench.

But when your boots land on the other side, the end of a rifle pokes your breastbone and prevents you from getting any closer.

"Ghost."

You can't help but shout at him, eyes widening. He is pointing a gun at you? You were just beginning to think he could tolerate you enough to not threaten murder anymore. The memory of your first encounter resurfaces.

"It's just me! What the hell are you doing?"

Panic finds you once again. Your chest rises and falls under his gun’s touch. You glance at Blue, who tries to get near you, but he sticks out an arm to keep her away.

"Dad," Blue groans, "Do you really have to— ”

The tip of the rifle brushes up over your collarbone and toward your neck. Your nerves awaken under cold metal.

"Let me see." His voice is firm.

Oh. Bites. He wants to see if you have any bites.

"Okay, okay." You nod breathlessly.

Swallowing, you gather your braided hair in your hands as he clicks on a flashlight. You have not been offered string to tie them with so most of the hair has fallen out as always. You roll your neck to one side, and then to the other to show him the unmarked skin. But he is not satisfied yet.

He moves the rifle down to the hem of your shirt and uses it to lift up the fabric just beneath your breasts, revealing the skin of your stomach and ribs. You should feel exposed, standing here with your bare midriff under the light, but the two of them have already seen this much of you. You are more concerned about the fact that he could kill you if he actually suspects you could’ve been bitten.

The cold air invites a shiver. Your teeth clench as you stare at him. In the darkness, his eyes almost lean red.

He lowers your shirt.

"Roll 'em up for me,” he demands, now giving a nod to your trousers.

You bend over to roll up the pantlegs, all the way up to your knees so he can’t complain about it. All that is revealed are your unshaven legs and sweat-laced socks. You are sure they can smell them from where they stand.

"She doesn't have any stupid bites, Ghost, alright?"

Blue tugs at his arm with a huff. Finally, the rifle lowers. You straighten back up and exhale the short breath you were holding.

There is a silent moment where the three of you just stand there. An owl hoots. Ghost rubs at his masked jaw and looks you over some more, eyes flicking to the filled bag over your shoulder with a raised brow.

And then, something unexpected.

A small body whirls into yours and you almost stumble back in a step. Blue wraps her arms around your waist and excitedly breathes out, "I knew you'd make it back. Ghost said you wouldn't. I told him you would."

What?

It is a short-lived hug.

But still, the first one you have had in a long time.

After this tiring day, your eyes close with some more moisture. It is a strange feeling, her young embrace. Her palms spread flat against your back and she presses her forehead to your shoulder because she is tall enough to reach it. You are just about to hug her in return, move your arms around her shoulders out of instinct, but she is soon tugged away by a skeletal hand. Her blue eyes drift down to her boots. She looks a mix of irritated and embarrassed.

In a daze, you end up back in the warmth of the cabin.

Blue begs you to show her what you found. You dump the contents of your pillowcase onto the table. Her father’s shadow lurks behind you somewhere, always watching and taking up space, but for now, you ignore him.

You cannot recall a time when you were in this kind of mood. It is enough to surface the waters of your grief. Because now, your survival does not have to rely so much on Ghost's mercy or the risk of Blue’s sneaky hands. Food, a med kit, one type of antibiotic. It should all be enough to keep you alive - to take care of yourself - for at least however long you end up staying here.

"Shit balls." Blue rummages through the goods. "You did pretty good."

"Right? I can't believe it," you whisper numbly. You wipe your eyes.

She holds up the clothes first, starting with a large, floral blouse that looks like something an old lady would wear. Her head tips back with a giggle.

"This is way too big for you."

"I'll make it work," you say, shrugging, but almost manage a quiet laugh, too. You don't really give a fuck what the clothes look like. At least you can change finally into something else - something that didn’t belong to your dead companions.

Where you care about the medicine, Blue is far more intrigued by the candy bar she discovers. She holds it up, and inspects the wrapper with curiously wide eyes, shooting a glance at her dad.

"T-w-i-x," she sounds out with pinched brows. She looks back at you. "What's this?"

"It's like... chocolate," you tell her.

"Oh— no way. Could I try some?"

You don't really care about the Twix bar. You almost forgot about it since the moment you found it in the car. But before you can tell her she can just have it as a late birthday gift - because she has done so much for you - Ghost moves to take it from her hands.

He puts it back down on the table.

“What’s hers is hers, kid. That’s how it works here.“

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost #zombies #cod #zombie apocolypse au

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renmorris · 5 months

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Kim, the mender

I’ve been thinking so much about Kim navigating his own deep loneliness and touch starved-ness through caring for others, and what I feel are implicit statements made by the game that he studied emergency medical first response as his mandatory RCM civil service role

(his year working in body processing, him knowing how to keep Harry alive and able to walk after the tribunal, the morale healing pats on the back, even offering his jacket to Acele etc)

It’s unselfish and not something he has to justify to himself as an indulgence, it’s practical. It’s being a good coworker. Kim mentions repeatedly that gets seen officers in worst states than Harry and I don’t think Kim is unaware that Harry absolutely thrives on his reassurances and praise.

@1tbls has some Kim posts I mull over a lot (one of them is just the sentence 'Kim's horny little need to take care of Harry' because I really feel like that hits the nail on the head. another is the one about how Kim does seem to have self analyzed himself but in a kind of shallow way.) I really agree with that, it does feel like we're meeting Kim after he’s done some internal processing of his own. in the fashion police conversation he mentions that he used to be very uptight before he started wearing plainclothes etc

This is all to say that I know fandom is understandably wary of writing Kim as Harry’s caregiver and that’s good 👍 it’s very good to be aware of racist fandom trends and push against those. But for Kim there is textually, I think, the fact that he does thrive on caring for other people. It gives him a kind of authoritative position, and stability.

(It even ties into his tailoring hobby, he’s a mender of clothes and people, a mechanic, and wants to be that for the city so badly.)

There’s a lot of reasons why Kim wants to take care of Harry, why he believes that he can come back from all of this. Obviously one is that if Harry who is white, who works in this legendary precinct with his heroes, who puts in these impossible hours and burns himself alive for the RCM, who is ranked Double Yefreitor can be so easily left to die by the RCM…it means Kim never stood a chance. That his dwindling faith in the system means nothing and he has thrown his life away in this job.

(Likewise Kim also means this for Harry- If Kim is seen as disposable then there was never any point in being diligent and clean. Both paths are thankless and have left them to rot)

But the other I think is that this is how Kim copes, by taking care of others. He is so very careful about indulging himself in ways that he feels are extraneous. But this is a kind of closeness he is allowed to have, it does good for other people.

And over time this is and will be where Harry sneaks in past his defenses and takes care of him back. Get loved, idiot! Be cared for, bino! ❤️

#disco elysium #kim kitsuragi #harrier du bois #kimharry #sunrise parabellum

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carsonjonesfiance · 4 months

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I feel like I trust leftists from red states far more than leftists from blue states. Maybe I'm biased (I consider myself a left-leaning personand I'm from a red state), but lately, a lot of blue state leftists have been showing their asses far more often

Ever since 2016 I’ve been slightly wary of blue state leftists and I think the best way to explain is to compare AOC to Doug Jones

Alexandria Ocasio Cortes is from a district that leans so heavily Democrat (IIRC it’s something like D+15) that she can say some truly leftist things without fear of losing her seat. This is why she can afford to be the face of things like the Green New Deal, but rather than acknowledging that privilege she’s taken her ability to win in her district as proof her politics can win anywhere. We see this attitude in the way she insists on primarying any and all Democrats with more progressive candidates regardless of their local political viability.

Doug Jones, who narrowly won out against a Republican pedophile and did lose his seat to a Republican football coach who is now holding up military appointments over abortion policy, is a lawyer who put away the KKK members that bombed the 16th Street Baptist Church. He’s been a civil rights lawyer longer than I’ve been alive, and he only won by 20,000 votes because of how deeply red most of Alabama is. Part of that was being pro gun and steering away from anything more harsh than background checks and being very quietly pro choice.

There are risks that blue state Democrats can take that red state Dems can’t and that principle guides us Red Staters to more pragmatic realist politics like Senator Jones. I’m sure there are Blue State Dems that get that what works for their district doesn’t work everywhere but a not insignificant portion of them have not learned that there is a reason Bernie Sanders represents the state of Vermont and not Wyoming.

When you expand that divide to a national level you get Red State Dems much more understanding of Moderate Presidential Candidates and quietly Progressive policies (I.e. literally anything that the Biden administration has done in the past two years) while Blue Staters don’t get why we can’t go further because their idealist, maximalist policies are never challenged in their area. It’s like an IRL version of an internet echo chamber.

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handweavers · 5 months

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Can you recommend any podcasts about anything history related, maybe even specifically about imperialism and war? I’m always wary to start podcasts about those topics when I’m not sure of where the hosts stand

i use pocket casts as my podcast 'hub' so ill link to them all thru there but you can also find them through whichever app you prefer

ancient history & prehistory - tides of history is consistently excellent, interviews archaeologists and historians currently working in the field and makes an effort to highlight issues in the field, address misconceptions about various ancient peoples and jumps around the globe a lot so it's not eurocentric, the host emphasizes social history/the lives of every day people, and i know that he is a fellow traveller

current events regarding war and imperialism - rania khalek dispatches, she's a lebanese-american journalist based in beirut and interviews a lot of left wing anti-imperialist journalists and scholars and activists, her reporting is consistently excellent and explicitly marxist & materialist, i love her. she works for breakthrough news which is also a good news site for similar reasons

war and imperial history and current events - radio war nerd is a classic. lots of interviews with left wing anti imperialist scholars and activists, series where they cover histories of various conflicts and empires, ongoing coverage of wars and genocides. they did a series on the us civil war that was great. they do talk about the weapons of war, tactics and strategy, etc more than the others on this list do which could be a pro or a con depending on who you are, but it's always interesting.

history of american imperialism - blowback, genuinely the best 'primer' to american empire in the podcast space. each season is a different war - they've covered the iraq war, the cuban revolution, the korean war, and most recently the history of american empire in afghanistan. if you can't/don't want to pay for premium there are bootleg feeds out there (i can send you one if you dm me lol)

irish revolutionary history - revolutionary ireland, not as much to say about this one but it's excellent and his accent is lovely lol

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radiance1 · 4 months

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I've been having a thunk about Pariah Dark.

Specifically, the hc about how he loves horses that goes hand to hand in my farmer au.

Then I thought about mlp and.

Well.

Alicorn Pariah Dark.

Not literally, of course, he just takes the form of one because he loves horses, has seen both a unicorn and pegasus and decided to combine the two.

Hence results in Alicorn Pariah Dark.

Well, that's after being pardoned from his eternal rest for being a war spirit who did too much basically. Why was he excused? Because he had a change of heart, realizing the error of his ways and that forcefully unifying the Zone for a war against humanity under his tyrannical ruling was wrong?

No, not really.

Instead the Ancient of Time vouched for him, and because he's well, Time (and one of the ogs) he held a lot of sway. Enough for everyone else to take it into consideration.

Not everyone was pleased with it, but they had to shut up since Clockwork said he would take personal responsibility if Pariah decided to do too much again.

And, well. It is the Ancient of Time you know? A being that not even Pariah Dark tried in his goal to wage war against humanity, and who just left him alone for most of his conquest and only requested verbally for Clockwork to join him instead of trying physically with force?

They already know there was a reason for that, and so they take Time's word for it.

Pariah Dark, freed from eternal rest and monitored personally by time itself, decided to form himself into an alicorn (unknowingly) in an attempt at it being a disguise.

Clockwork is also an alicorn, because why the hell not.

And before you say anything, nobody told Danny that the ghost king was released from eternal rest and that Clockwork was personally monitoring said ghost king, so he's left outta the loop.

Then they (really Pariah mostly) decided to bugger off to another dimension, that dimension being that of DC. Pariah decided to mostly keep to himself and not interact with any kind of civilization. He decided to stay in a random forest in a certain area he hid with magic, obviously Clockwork came along as well.

Clockwork decided to fill his 'friend' in on all that he had missed, both in the human realm and the ghost realm because of his long absence in eternal rest.

Which would take a long, long time if he included every single little detail.

It has been eons since he last heard his beloved's voice, and it wasn't like he had anything to or had the risk of old age thanks to his immortality.

So, he had time to simply sit and listen as Clockwork recounted everything that happened after his sealing.

A while later, after countless tales they were interrupted. Pariah was prepared for a fight, while Clockwork was content to just stay behind and watch. However, contrary to both of their expectations (Clockwork isn't constantly watching the timestream here, since he left his lair) it wasn't an enemy of any great magical might.

But a human child.

Said Human child was Billy, who got separated and lost from his group during their school field trip and managed to stumble upon the barrier erected by Pariah Dark, not that he knew that.

He was warned by Solomon that the barrier was constructed by someone powerful, and if he went in to be wary of any attacks. Billy does go in after a moment's thought, his curiosity got the better of him and if it came to blows, he was prepared to turn into Shazam at any moment.

Then he met Alicorns.

Who he thought was only real in comic books, even Solomon can't tell him everything about the two beings in front of him, as Alicorns are very, very rare beings and he urged Billy to be careful and wary of the two in front of him.

Fortunately for Billy, the aggressive one backed down, seemingly bewildered by Billy. Which makes sense, really, he is a kid who just stepped through a magical barrier that was probably supposed to keep others out.

So, he tries to make friends rather than enemies here.

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