#I'm incapable of being concise

[themeraldee]

The Lucky Winner - Part 2

[Masterlist] [Part 1]

18+ Only | 7.3k | Homelander x fem!Reader | Early Season 1. Voice kink (mild). Roleplay. Established Relationship. Masturbation. Dirty Talk. Unprotected sex. 

Summary: After much deliberation you finally decide to meet your hero at a meet & greet.  

Author’s Note: Sorry if the ending of this feels a little confusing. I did have an idea for a retrospective Part 3 of this that would cover the events in between Part 1 & 2, clearing up the confusion a little bit, let me know if you'd be interested!

The metal detector beeps, finally letting you through after the hassle of emptying your entire bag and getting a full body scan. You quickly collect your scanned belongings and you scuttle along, almost sprinting across the now-empty hallway. You’re breathing heavily, holding onto the bag over your shoulder as you reach the right door. Panicked and out of breath you show your pass to the man working the door and he just about lets you in grumbling something about it being way past the time slot and how you’re the last one in. You ignore all of it, instead you focus on your breathing and move along. You inhale sharply through your nose, trying to mask just how winded that rush got you. 

You take your place as the last one in the line. Turning around just in time you see the door guy close off the room, not letting anybody else in. Phew. You just about made it. You smooth out your summer dress, adjusting the bag you had over your shoulder as you look around the hall. God, you’ll be waiting forever!

You knew it would be busy but having usually avoided convention centres it still hits you hard with how overwhelmingly packed the hall is. The ventilation and air conditioning could be state-of-the-art and it would still feel stuffy. Looking around you feel like one of the few people who didn’t bother dressing up like their favourite heroes. You see about thirty Queen Maeves at a quick glance, another twenty Black Noirs, a few of the Seven’s new member Starlight but the most prevalent one is easily a sea of Homelander knock-offs. The sea of cheap red, blue and white assaults your vision, making it actually pretty overwhelming to look around.

For once Homelander is actually drowned out in a sea of look-alikes where normally he stands out like a sore thumb in all his primary-coloured glory. Homelander. Just the thought of seeing him here makes you pick at your nails and bite your lips with anxiety. Sure, you’ve met him before. You’ve talked. You even had sex, really good sex, goddammit. You have history. But still, you’ve never done this. Not the in-public meet & greets that you decided to put yourself through today. But still, you’re doing this for him. 

The longer you’re standing at the end of the line the longer being surrounded by fans dressed in Spirit Halloween versions of the Seven’s costumes is becoming less comical and more uncanny valley. You only wonder what it feels like to them.

You slowly move through the line. Sighing impatiently, your nerves are slowly being replaced by irritation as you watch the interactions play out in front of you. You’re now close enough to see and overhear. Thankfully with each step you take forward the people in front of  you get what they came here for and they leave, making the hall a little more breathable. 

You’re now watching Homelander as he tends to each fan, all puffed up and high energy to replicate the vision they all have of him but you see how much he wishes to be anywhere but here. Most of the Seven do. Vought plucks them from what most expected to be their duties, like saving the world, and instead they drop them in front of cameras and paying fans. You watch as Homelander signs each piece of merchandise his fans bring him, one after another with a smile on his face.

Having seen part of his real self, or the extension of himself he doesn’t show the media you see the smile for what it is. Placating, empty, downright forced. Were you none the wiser you wouldn’t have thought to look past the showmanship but now you knew better. It was easy to notice his tells, his jaw ticks anytime he’s irritated, his eye twitches anytime he has to hold a smile for too long or anytime he’s forced to compliment someone. You overhear his booming stage-voice going, ‘you look great buddy, wear it better than I do!’ for about the twentieth time. The crowd eats it up, again, and somehow they’re blind to his tortured expression. Sure, he hides it very well but if any of them cared to look underneath the surface it would be glaringly obvious. Instead they look at him like the hero they want him to be. Flawless, perfect, serving their needs. The more you’re privy to this viewpoint the more it grates on you. He’s so much more than that! And you don’t understand how they don’t see it. More than that, you're angry that they willfully don’t want to see it. Why would they ruin the image of a perfect hero they look up to when they don’t care to know the person behind the suit in the first place. 

You shake your thoughts away, focusing on keeping up with the queue. Thankfully the hall has now almost emptied, few residual fans loiter around taking pictures of themselves in their costumes with the Seven members right behind them. As it’s almost your turn, and with that the end of the event, you clumsily pull out a postcard out of your bag clutching it in your hands getting it ready to be signed.

With each step you hear him clearer and clearer. Your heartbeat picks up and by the time the Homelander female cosplayer in front of you gets her very own, ‘you might as well take my spot, you pull it off better than me’, your heart is pounding so hard that you think it must grate on Homelander’s nerves. You rub the glossy paper of the postcard in between your fingers trying to distract yourself from the impending doom that’s bound to be caused by whatever comes out of your mouth. Even after all that’s happened between you two, all that history, you cannot stop yourself from feeling flustered in a situation like this.

You’re so stuck in your head that you don’t realise that the lady in front of you already left and all who’s left is…well, you.

You’re broken out of your trance by a familiar voice.

“Looky, looky, who's here? I can't believe you actually showed up at one of these.” There he goes, grinning like a Cheshire cat as he quickly looks you up and down. Already his eyes are glittering with excitement. Your heart skips a beat at his smile. It's more genuine. You see the annoyance seep out of him, his posture a little more relaxed. 

“Yeah…about that. I thought I couldn't really call myself a fan otherwise right?” You rattle off some lines and your anxious mess of a gut is slowly unravelling to make room for the coil of excitement replacing it. Sure, you’re nervous. How couldn't you be. But the place is nearly empty and there isn't much he could say that would get you as flustered as he did the first time.

“Here for an autograph? The one I gave you before wasn't good enough?” Right. Scratch that. You blush a bright red as the images flood back into your mind. And he's grinning so widely, clearly pleased with how he can so easily make you into a blubbering mess. Even if someone overheard, there’s technically nothing dirty about his words but the shiver they send down your spine along with the vivid imagery is enough to make you feel indecent in a public space.

“No—no! It was, um, great. I just—uh—wanted something a little more permanent.” You quickly look around seeing if anyone caught that interaction as if they could read your mind. Well, you are in a room full of superheroes, who knows what they can or can’t do. Thankfully, it doesn’t appear like anyone is interested in Homelander signing a photo for yet another fan. The rest of the Seven is slowly filtering out of the room, finally relieved of their duty.

“Alrighty-doo, let me sign that for you.” He takes his hand out prompting you to put the postcard in his palm. You do so, giving him a little timid smile. Your hands shake a little as you retreat them back by your sides. Catching the way his eyes linger on the movement you cover your shakiness by clasping your hands together in front of you.

“Is this all you want me to sign? Did you really wait the entire line for that?” He says his eyes squinting incredulously as he waves the postcard with his likeness in front of you. Without waiting for your answers he still places it in front of him reaching for his marker pen.

“What was I meant to bring?” You scrunch your eyebrows with confusion. Sure, you weren’t used to going to these events but you still brought something he could sign, that’s good enough, is it not?

“For starters, something that my signature won’t cover entirely.” 

“It’s fine if it covers it.” You brush off his concerns. Really you didn’t care about the signature as much as you cared about seeing him. So placement be damned.

You look as he uncaps the pen, turning the card around. It’s a photo of him in his hero pose standing against a very patriotic background. Originally it came in a pack of seven postcards, one for each member of the Seven. You don’t want to admit that you were so anxious over deciding whether you would even turn up or not that when it came to the day you forgot to bring an item to sign. Hence the pack of generic postcards you bought on the way when you realised that you forgot just about the most important item. This also turned out to be the reason for your tardiness, you spent way too long in the shop just angsting over the small selection of items you could even pick from. 

“You know it's a real shame you of all people didn't come dressed up. I'd like to see you as Mrs Homelander.” He says all cheeky and amused at the image in his head, while he’s fiddling with his marker pen, trying to start his signature for the third time but the ink has run out.  

“Oh no no no, I couldn't. I don't think it would be a good look on me. I mean nobody can rock the uniform like you do!” The idea of dressing up as him was ridiculous, you couldn’t just take that away from him. He’s more than a circus animal to you.

“You think I rock it?” He gives you a look, clearly fishing for compliments while he lets his voice rumble. He might not be in your ear but you still feel a shiver dance down your spine. You don’t think you’ll ever get over the effect his voice has on you. He just knows how to pull your strings. And what’s a puppet to do if not follow.

“It looks very good on you. The colour brings out your eyes.” You make an awkward gesture, pointing at your dress and then your eyes, as if it wasn’t obvious that those two had the same colour on him. You cringe internally but he always seems endeared by your awkwardness. You think it probably feeds his ego. You’re always such a mess in front of him and he slurps it up.

“Wowie, heavy on the flattery today are we?” He’s fiddling with his marker pen, trying to start his signature for the third time but the ink has run out.  “Oh for fucks sakes.” He tries another two times, the leather of his glove creaking with pressure around the pen. You expect him to snap it in half at this point but he just sighs and recaps the used marker, placing it down. He looks around, his jaw ticking as he mumbles, “where the fuck is Ashley…” He rolls his eyes, muttering something about being surrounded by incompetent idiots as he stands up. 

“Just, come with me, I think there are some spares in my dressing room.” He waves his hand, still holding the postcard in the other one.

“Are you sure? It’s really no big deal!” You feel guilty at the way his suggestion sends a shiver up your spine. You’re not entitled to it but the fantasy of him fucking you in his dressing room still plays out in your mind. 

“Nope, you waited your turn. You know I’m not one to leave my biggest fans empty handed.” He winks at you before he beckons you to follow him. You give a short nod and you scurry behind him like a little duckling, mesmerized by the sway of his cape swishing with each purposeful step. You feel your heart rate rise with every step, just being in his presence is overwhelming and the closer you get to his dressing room the more vivid your fantasy gets.

“Righty-ho,” Homelander says as he opens the door to his dressing room, fiddling around to pick up a spare marker. He presses the postcard against the wall signing it for you with a silver sharpie. You stand in the half open door a little awkwardly. Rather than focusing on him, you’re looking around making sure nobody sees you standing in Homelander’s dressing room. He tears you away from your paranoid thoughts as he hands the card back to you with a sing-songy, “there you go!” 

Your eyes widen and you gingerly take the postcard with a “oh, thank you,” and you gently put it back into your bag, not wanting to smear the ink. Part of you was disappointed that he genuinely took you here for innocent reasons. 

Like the open book you’ve always been to him he reads your facial expressions for what they are barking a laugh at the dumb-struck look you were sporting. “What? Did you think I brought you here to fuck you?” He leans against the doorframe, his tone a little condescending and mean. 

You really do your best to recover but your embarrassed blush and the spike in your heart-rate is such a blatant giveaway of your true thoughts. “N-no! I wouldn’t, of course not.” It doesn’t matter what you say in the moment, it’s not wiping the all-knowing smirk off his face.

“Jesus, you’re so easy, you know that?” His gaze is predatory as he looks you up and down again, this time slowly, reaaally taking you in. Before you know what’s happening he yanks you into the room, closing the door behind you. For all his strength he controls it well as you don’t end up with a dislocated shoulder after a move like that.

He cages you in against the door, leaning close to your ear so he can get his voice nice and low and he whispers, “For that kind of slutty behaviour I definitely need to fuck you.” You can hear the smirk in his voice. You love how easily he reads you, there’s nothing you can hide from and you know that these days, you’re his favourite book. In a way it’s liberating, it removes the thoughts behind actions, it removes the second-guessing. You know that he knows what you want. So you don’t have to make propositions and embarrass yourself further, he’s either gonna take you as he pleases or tell you to get lost. So far it’s always been the former. 

His gloved hand grabs the side of your jaw as he leans back and the woodsy, natural scent of leather whiffs past your nose. His other hand is less stationary, he brazenly glides his hand down your dress, generously palming your tits before he slides down further down your waist and back, settling on your ass. “Gotta teach you a lesson that you shouldn't be spreading your legs for men you don't really know that well.” He growls out tilting your head so he’s directly staring into your eyes with his impossibly piercing blues.

“You’re not just a man.” 

“Mhm you got that right.” He purrs all pleased at the obvious stroke to his ego. You’re all flustered, breathy and eager for him and he loves it. The pure adoration and love you give him so easily just flows through him, feeding that black hole starved for affection inside him.

He didn’t wait a second longer to kiss you, one gloved hand still on your jaw, the other quickly moving up to the back of your head pressing you into him. With a moan he kisses you, already acting like you’ve been starving him this entire time. His kisses are feverish, already hot hot hot as his lips ply yours open. You feel his shaky breath hot against your lips while the plush pillows of his lips are pressing against yours in a frenzy.

You wrap your hands around his neck for support more than anything. You know how he gets. Your heart rate has skyrocketed by now, beating hard and loud in his ears as he presses his tongue in between your lips, already wanting to be in you one way or another.

You part your lips for him just like you’d part your legs and you let him kiss you, heavy, hot and wet as he holds you with almost shaky hands trying to get as much as he can out of you.

His ravenous kisses don’t relax you, they make your body feel tight, wound up, always expecting and wanting more. At this moment you need him as much as he needs you. You grind your body against him with each more pressing and needy kiss. You know he can feel you through his suit, even though it’s handily hiding his hard-on. He still moans when you rub against him, clearly just as wound up as you are.

He pulls away, his eyes no longer that bright piercing blue but now his pupils are blown, his gaze lustful and heavy. His breathing is rough and stuttered. Even though he can’t get winded or tired his body is so strained that he pants for you like a thirsty dog.

Homelander takes his time to calm down, wanting to take control of the situation, he wants you to look up at him with those unsuspecting sweet wide doe eyes while he defiles you. And you do, you look up at him, panting out of actual lack of breath and you stare in reverence. 

There he goes, grinning like a shark again and you’re already waiting for the foul words that he’s undoubtedly going to thoroughly wet your panties with.

“Tell me,” he purrs out, seducing you with his dulcet tones. “How many times did you make yourself cum to my voice, huh?” He’s now leaning into your ear again, knowing this is where the occasional brush of his lips makes your body burn bright and hot. “Or to the memory of my cock inside you?” 

You expect him to be filthy and talk with no filter, it’s his specialty behind closed doors, but it still catches you off-guard. It especially does anytime you’re reminded of the time he utterly ruined you for any other man in your home, in your safe space, in your bed.

“I don’t know—many times. I, um, I lost count.” You don’t know exactly what answer he wants from you but you know that he will turn each and every one against you. His hair tickles the side of your face as he nuzzles into you with a small whimper before continuing. 

“Yeah? Maybe you should show me, do it for me. A little performance as a reward for all that I've done for you.” You hear the restraint in his voice. You know he wants nothing more than to just fuck you, have you fall apart on him. For him. But you also know Homelander loves to play. And he doesn’t want the game to be over yet. “You can do that for me, can’t you?” He goads you with that. Homelander knows just as much as he swallows up all your love and affection; you thrive on being reminded of how much you adore and worship him. How much you’d do anything for him. Anything. 

Homelander pulls back from you, his hands now firmly on your waist as if you were a flight risk.

“What do you mean?” You regain some sense of self after he gives your hot and flushed body a little break. 

“I mean you’re gonna sit your pretty ass in that chair, make yourself cum for me, while I watch.” He guides your body towards the further end of the dressing room where he points at a chair in front of a lit vanity table that’s still littered with make-up and brushes from when his team got him ready for today’s event.

Your body is buzzing with excitement but part of you is still a little embarrassed by such a blatantly open display. He wants you to sit in that chair, spread your legs and give him a perfectly lit view of the way you get yourself off? Yeah, that’s not the easiest thing you’ve ever done. But again, for him, you’ll do anything. 

“Well, what are you waiting for?” He pulls the chair out a bit tilting his head towards it. He looks at you, blatantly undressing you with his eyes. Literally, undressing. You may not physically feel his x-ray vision but the look in his eyes and the way he stops at your tits with a leery smile on his face is very telling. He doesn’t bother to hide how much he ogles, he knows how much it turns you on anyway. “Come on, panties off and hop on.” He clicks his tongue impatiently.

You sneak your hands under your dress and pull the hem of your panties down. You slide them down your legs until they pool at your ankles where you step out of them with your shoes still on.

Homelander chuckles to himself as he picks up the undergarment inspecting the damage. “You’re like a faucet, always fucking dripping wet.” He brings them closer to his face, inspecting the pair of Homelander-themed panties. He inhales the scent of your pussy now that it’s long seeped into the fabric. “I didn’t think these would be salvageable after last time.” He speaks as if he was talking about the weather and not pure debauchery while he indulges in the scent of your cunt.

“I got more pairs.” You said with a shrug as you got into the chair. You had to jump up a little as it was set on the highest setting for Homelander’s viewing pleasure.

You watch as he tosses the panties on the vanity table in front of you. “You’re gonna have to spread those legs some more.” He tuts with his tongue. You spread your legs as wide as you can in the chair and he shakes his head. “No, nope that won’t do either. Legs up on the arm rests.” He commands and as much as you want to comply, even you have your limits.

“I’m not that flexible!” You yelp out in amusement. “Wait!” You exclaim again except this time he easily manoeuvres you around in that chair with his stupid strength and you feel like a pretzel as you’re being pushed into the right position.

He ends up hooking just one of your legs over the armrest letting you rest it against the vanity table and giving you a comfortable enough position but more importantly, giving him a great view. “See, there you go. Flexible enough.” He pulls off his gloves one by one, throwing them on the table, out of view. “Come on, show off for me,” He coos in your ear, his bare hands, hot and smooth, sliding up your legs picking up the hem of your dress on the way as he pulls it up.

You gasp at the view in front of yourself. In the lit mirror in front of you you see yourself spread wide, your pussy easily visible and glistening in the bright light. This might as well be a porn shoot with how well lit and visible all your parts are. As you instinctively start closing your legs Homelander presses your thighs down, barely putting any power into it yet you feel the unyielding strength thrumming through his fingertips.

“Don’t be shy, you know I’ve seen it all.” He tucks the skirt of your dress above your waist and behind your back. Your hand slowly slinks down to rest on the bunched up fabric of your dress.

He straightens up properly standing behind you, his hands land on your shoulders, close to your neck, squeezing softly. He watches you in the mirror. He extends his pointer finger pushing your jaw up so you look up and meet his gaze. “Keep going, spread that pretty pussy for me.” He growls in your ear as his eyes are locked on the way your fingers slide down your slit, your pointer and middle finger spreading your pussy open for him to see. “Just as I said, like a fucking faucet.” He chuckles at the sight of you drenched and dripping.

You blush at the way he’s staring so intently at your reflection. Your fingers tentatively run up and down, gathering the wetness on your fingers, bringing it up to your clit where you rub small, shy circles around it. You’re taut as a bow and struggling to relax.

“Stop thinking and start feeling.” Homelander purrs in your ear. “I know you can do this for me, can’t you?” His voice sends a hot flush down your body, and you feel your clit throb under your fingers.

“Yeah… I can.” You breathe you, closing your eyes for a second to take a deep breath. The tension slowly leaves your body as Homelander presses soft kisses down the side of your face as he leans over to your other side. You let your hand go on auto-pilot trusting it to know what to do. You suck in a sharp breath as he sucks on your jaw, giving it a little nip while you still circle your clit with a soft squelch of your slick.

“There’s my girl.” He watches as you breathe deeply, your eyes finally opening to watch as he descends more kisses down your neck. You shiver at the sensation, pressing in your fingers a little harder, at the right pressure in the right spot. You’re just about to dip lower, push a finger inside your wet, needy hole but Homelander speaks up. “Uh uh, nothing but my cock is going inside that pussy today so keep your fingers on your clit.” Your entire body prickles with heat all over at his words. He’s so brazen and upfront and no matter how many times you hear it it always makes your head spin and pussy throb. 

You nod a simple ‘okay’ and only ever slide your fingers down to collect more of your own slick. Homelander is whimpering with you as if just the sight of your pussy was enough to get him off. For him, it’s intoxicating. His senses enhance the way your slick squelches loud to his ears and the scent of your pussy just makes him want to stop this little game and rail you already. Yet, he’s a patient man when he wants to be. And more so, indulging in his own desperate urge isn’t as fun as watching you submit to him first.

“Eyes open.” Homelander interrupts the thoughts and visuals in your head. Your eyes snap open and you meet his sharp gaze in the mirror. You didn’t even realise you had them closed. “What were you thinking about?” He asks, almost testing you. As if saying, you better not be straying too far from the path he wants you on.

“‘M thinking about you fucking me.” You say meekly, your fingers rubbing at a particular rhythm now that you know will get you off. Your clit is already throbbing, aching under your fingers.

“Getting a bit ahead of yourself missy, first you’ll have to cum for me.” He says nonchalantly while he pushes the strap of your dress and bra down your free arm. As much as you’ve gotten more used to functioning around him, his voice still makes you dizzy, especially when he’s a master at saying the most depraved shit. 

You pause to help him get out of the other set of straps and when your arm goes up to slip out of the strap he gives your slicked fingers a little suck, tasting you with a pleased grin making you flush hot.

While you go back to rubbing your clit Homelander unclasps your bra from behind your back dropping it on the floor and he pushes your dress down, already groaning at the sight of your tits free for his eyes to feast on. He presses his hands against your tits from either side, groaning at the sensation of the plush pillows underneath his hands.

“That's a good girl, keep rubbing that clit.” He growls out an order, yet somehow he looks more frazzled than you while he's not even the one performing. “Open up,” he whispers, his voice frayed at the edges as he presses two fingers against your lips. Obediently, you open up giving them a suck and laving them with your saliva while you keep eye contact with his reflection. He moans at the raunchy display, his eyes glazing over as he pulls his fingers out. With both his hands back on your tits he pinches your nipples, overwhelming you with the different sensation of one being rubbed wet and the other dry. You whine at the sensation, your pussy throbbing with each hot breath you feel against your neck as he tucks his head against it.

He listens to your heart beat like a drum in his ear, while he gives your nipples all his love and attention. He whispers and moans sweet nothings into your ear whilst watching you rub harder and faster finding the perfect rhythm that has cascading heat climb up your spine. “Thaaat’s it, come on—fuuck—come on, you can cum for me. I know you can.” Homelander watches as your muscles tense, seeing your body just ready to snap. What really does you in is the way he’s whimpering like he’s the one getting off. It’s like he’s sharing all the pleasure you're feeling with you.  

You cum with Homelander’s lips whispering against your ear as you hold your breath, your body tense until it finally gives in and you feel the wave of heat and tingling pleasure wash over you from your core to your limbs. “Ohhh god.” You finally release your breath, your chest heaving with the release.

Homelander is less impressed. Clicking his tongue again against the roof of his mouth.

“Mhm that won’t do, you can do better than that. I’ve seen you cum better than that.” 

You barely have the strength to counteract his claim. This was easily one of your strongest orgasms and he’s trying to say that it was weak? Oh please. You shake your head. You know he’s just playing his little game of ‘I can do whatever the fuck I want’ so you let him.

“Come on, up you go,” He says as he pulls you up on your feet all wobbly and numb from the way you were sitting on the chair. He pushes the chair out of the way with enough force that it topples over with a bang. He bends you over the vanity table where you’re up close and personal with the mirror, watching Homelander’s reflection as he hurriedly unzips his pants pushing them halfway down his thighs. 

You can’t see his cock from this angle but you’re sure it’s rock fucking hard and leaking precum with the way he’s panting like a dog in heat. He’s not even in you and he looks about three strokes away from finishing.

“God, fffuck!” He grits out through his teeth before parting his lips letting a long groan out as the tip of his cock parts your folds, immediately finding your soaked hole and pushing inside with one long slide. He huffs and puffs, his head tilted back as he keeps his eyes shut with restraint. His cock is hot and hard inside you, giving your pussy something to quiver around. 

You’re overstimulated, your nerves totally fried and your body has still nowhere recovered from your performance of a lifetime but you still take him in. You push your ass towards him, whimpering yourself as you feel his hands land on your hips, holding you there. “Look at how your pussy just opens up for me. Taking me riiiight in.” Homelander’s voice is strangled and raspy as he hisses air through his teeth.

You whimper at the way his words leave you buzzing and mindless with pleasure. You prop your elbows against the table as he starts fucking you, dragging his cock agonisingly slowly at first as if he was so sensitive he was about to bust. 

Thankfully that gives you some time to recover and your pussy is no longer screaming at you that it’s too much. He gives you more and more with each thrust, letting out a breathy soft moan each time he hits home. Tip to hilt on every slide. 

His boots kick your legs together giving him a tighter, more pronounced feel. That’s where he really starts to pick up speed. He moves his hands up, gripping where the fabric of your dress is still bunched up as he wholeheartedly fucks into you, minding his strength of course, he gives you what you can take and not a drop more.

You’re so deliciously taken in by him that you barely remember where you are and that you reaaally shouldn’t be screaming and moaning at the top of your lungs. Against all odds, your body is still so wired up and wound up that you feel the climbing sensation prickle at your nerves, your legs quivering with each stroke.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Homelander pulls out of you unceremoniously and you whine.

“I was so close!” You pull a displeased face in the mirror, looking at his reflection.

“I know. And so does everyone on the other side of that door.” He mumbles as he picks up the panties he tossed earlier on the table except this time he balls them up stuffing them in your mouth. You protest around them, your eyes widening in shock and your body flushing with indecent heat when you get a remnant of your taste from the soaked fabric.

“I don’t need people barging in to see who’s screaming bloody fucking murder.”

He turns you around, swiftly picking you up and plopping you on top of the vanity table where you’re nicely lit from behind. “Now behave, the door’s not locked. I’d rather not have anyone see you like this. Capiche?” You nod fervently, at this point just doing anything to get him back in you. 

“Good girl.” He coos as he pulls your legs up wrapping his forearms underneath your thighs, his hands gripping the sides for easy control. And just like that he slides back into you. You give muffled little sighs into the fabric of your panties as he fucks you hard against the table, making it rattle on its legs. The littered makeup and brushes were now rolling off and in some cases breaking on impact.

“You’re always so fucking worked up. Just need someone to fuck you don’t you. Poor little fangirl, so obsessed with me she doesn’t even have time to date anyone else.” He gives you a sharp grin, his canines sharp like a predator’s would be. You body flushes with embarrassment at the almost degrading comment and with the way you’re gagged and fucked you feel like Homelander’s personal toy. 

He fucks you until your legs tremble in his hold and your eyes flutter shut with each press of his cock deep inside you.

He slows down with the literally mind-melting grinds of his pelvis against yours and instead he looks you straight in the eyes getting your attention. “Did you learn? Will you be good?” You nod. He takes the panties out of your mouth, leaving the now even more damp fabric back on the table. 

You keep your promise and you keep mainly quiet, biting your lips shut and only letting the occasional whimper out as he strokes a particularly good spot inside you. Instead you let your body do the screaming for you. You shake and tremble around him, all tense and hot and Homelander doesn’t need to hear you scream to know that you’re close.

With your lips free again he captures them, as if he’s been starved this entire time without them. He kisses you deep and wet while he bucks into you, slowly losing his impeccable rhythm as he’s so strung out for an orgasm it’s bound to happen any second.

“Ah—I’m, uh, close…” You nearly whisper out, all strangled and needy. Homelander nods, clearly just as far gone. He lets one of your legs go, instead letting you wrap it around his waist as he places his fingers on your clit, giving you the extra push to the finish line.

He doesn’t wait for you as he cums in the next, one, two, three, strokes. But he pushes through still fucking into you while his cock pumps you full of his load. You cum immediately after, it’s more the thought than the faint feeling of him finishing inside you that just pushes you over the edge. A burst of buzzing fireworks sparks behind your eyelids as you close your eyes shut through the euphoria sinking into your bones. 

You’re panting, catching your breath, moaning your residual finish in small whimpers. “Wow, that was—”

There’s a sharp knock on the door.

“Sir, you’re needed on stage in 10 minutes.” Ashley’s panicked shrill can be heard on the other side of the door and your heart stops for a second before realising it’s her. Ashley knows better than to barge into any rooms ever since Homelander’s shown interest in you. 

“Oh well, there goes the afterglow.” You mumble with a tired laugh. Homelander nods quietly as he tucks himself back in, finally spent and satisfied—for the time being at least.

Homelander looks at you with fond hunger, leaning in for a soft kiss. “Yeah. Sorry I have to cut it short.” He grumbles, displeased, as he nuzzles his face in the junction of your neck.

He pulls away, reaching for your bra and passing it to you so you could make yourself presentable again.

“Tell me, did you actually leave the door unlocked?” You ask. 

“No! I don’t want anyone else seeing you like this. Well. I want you out there with me, just not when you’re freshly fucked. That’s all for me.” He gives you a wide grin, unable to stop himself from peppering you with kisses, capturing your lips again hungry for them as if you’re constantly denying him air. 

“Thank you for today.” He breathes hotly against your lips. “You know how to indulge me, I really didn’t think you’d turn up.” He smiles against you, caving in for another kiss.

“What wouldn’t I do for you?” You say with an amused roll to your eyes, but it’s all light-hearted. He knows you really would do anything for him. 

“I haven’t found that out yet.” He rumbles all pleased as he helps you make sense of the mess he made of your dress.

“And you never will,” You beam at him, your heart pounding again but this time it’s just from that overwhelming love you have for him, the butterflies that don’t seem to ever calm down in his presence. Even though you’ve been secretly together for a couple of months ever since the fated phone call, the excitement hasn’t even begun waning yet. 

“Hey, you know, you’re a really great actress. Had me sold quite a few times. Maybe I should get Vought to cast you in a movie alongside me, huh?” He grins as he picks up his gloves, pulling them over his hands again. 

You have to laugh. Sure, you’ve enjoyed role-playing as the obsessed fan that you were a few months ago but it wasn’t all acting. 

“I wasn’t acting! Well, obviously I did with the ‘I don’t know what’s gonna happen’ part but beyond that I was really nervous to be with you like that in a public place. You know how I get. It’s not that I don’t want to be with you publically, it’s just a huge adjustment. So… baby steps.” You finally adjust your dress though you still very much look like you just got railed. 

“Come ooon, let me make you mine officially. Fuck this sneaking around. The people who need to know, know. The rest is not important.” He presents you with his sweet honeyed voice, and he’s cheating really, he knows how much it affects you.

In a way, he’s right. The people who matter at Vought know about you seeing as you’re up at his place every other day but there was something terrifying about announcing to the entire world that you were Homelander’s girlfriend. That’s nothing easy to get used to. He’s not just a celebrity. He is the celebrity. You will have to say bye-bye to the comforts of a private life. But maybe that’s all worth it for him. 

“Okay. How about you go do your job and I go do mine and when you see me for dinner we can talk about it again. Sounds good?” You said as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for another sweet kiss.

“Sounds good." He repeats before continuing with a fond, "I love you,” which always comes out a little strained. He’s never been able to say it without letting himself drown in the endless pool of emotions that are just swirling around inside him. 

“I love you too. Now go before Ashley has a heart attack. You’re already late.” You kiss him sweetly, adjusting his hair, making it look more purposefully-tousled, less ‘sex-hair’. You let him go, smoothing your hand down his suit. 

“Oh please, I’m the Homelander. Does the party really even start without me there?” He blows a raspberry into the air with a scoff.

“Sure doesn’t, babe.” You shake your head, amused as you watch him wave you off and shut the door behind himself.

You took the time to make yourself look more presentable but you couldn’t leave the room in the state you both left it in. So you collected the things that fell, you wiped the surfaces clean and you trashed whatever broke on the way. It’s the least you could do.

You looked into the mirror, almost not recognising the woman you’ve become over the past few months. Being someone who feeds off your endless adoration has done wonders for your confidence. You no longer feel crazy and obsessive. You’ve finally found someone who’s never gonna have enough of you. Someone who inhales your love like the oxygen he needs to breathe.

You revere Homelander less as an icon and more as a person, as a partner, these days. You know so much more of who he is now and strangely, while he scares others, you’ve never felt safer in his presence. Something about you two just clicks. It’s no wonder he wants to show you to the rest of the world. He wants to lock you in, have people forever associate with him.

And soon enough, there will be no way out.

[Part 3]

Taglist (you can add yourself to be notified anytime I publish a new Homelander story): @morishitoshi

[supervisormeero]

I'd Never Lie to You

Chapters: 3/6 Rating: Explicit, 18+, MDNI, please! Relationships: Syril Karn/Dedra Meero Characters: Syril Karn, Dedra Meero Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Explicit Sexual Content, Emotional Manipulation, Hurt Attempted Comfort, Established Relationship, Angst, Syril Lives, POV Alternating

“Syril,” she whispers. Dedra brings her hand to rest on the side of his face, her thumb stroking lightly at his still-wet cheek. The familiarity of it relaxes her, even despite the context of the moment. Her body remembers the peculiar mechanics of closeness and comfort; these strange gestures she’d only ever bothered to learn for him. This is how things should be. “You’re safe. You’re home.” No one can take you from me again.

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

Third chapter! In the aftermath of his spur-of-the-moment decision, a reeling, agonized Syril prepares for a wedding that might destroy him.

[thevalleyisjolly]

<- guy who knows better than to "joke" about writing a fic and yet

[byanyan]

me: alright, short reply, best way to dip my toes in and get started writing for the day!

spongebob narrator vc: three paragraphs later...

[helldustedstories]

@madefate asked:

❝ So it's your birthday, right ? ❞ Blitzo is currently draped over the large root of the tree the boys have sprawled under, his tail flicking back and forth with interest and endless energy. His eyes are wide and his gaze is thoughtful as it settles on Stolas - he really isn't some weird prince like Blitzo assumed he'd be. Anyone who can appreciate a good horse name is a-okay in his book ! ❝ But you didn't blow out any candles or make your wish. ❞

Maybe nobles do things differently - but there's nothing more important than the wish. You can ask for anything you want and you don't have to worry about money or how Dad'll react or anything like that.

Blitzo flips himself off the tree root and immediately starts clawing at the dirt when he lands. Despite what Barbie says, he's totally good at drawing, and soon he has a birthday cake complete with candles sketched out in the dirt. He steps back, hands proudly on his hips.

❝ There ! Mama says real fire is dangerous, so you can just blow these out. It's the same thing - we did that one year when we couldn't get new candles. So make a wish, and then stamp the flames out! ❞

unprompted // always accepting

When he'd opened his eyes and vaulted out of his bed this morning, Stolas had not at all anticipated the absolute emotional whiplash that his birthday would bring. He had expected to go see his father, and to finally know what his purpose in the Goetia family was going to be! What he hadn't expected…..was everything else. His father had greeted him, and Stolas had been a little disappointed that he didn't remember his name (it wasn't the first time it had happened, but he'd hoped he might remember on his birthday, but that was okay! He'd come to visit, so Stolas couldn't be too upset about it!). And then his father had presented him with his grimoire, had told him about what his domain, his responsibility was going to be, something Stolas had been looking forward to learning for years!

Of course, his father had immediately followed that up with the announcement that Stolas was supposed to sire an heir for the family, that he was engaged already, that he wasn't going to have any say in the matter at all. And she looked so mean in the picture his dad had shown him! She was hurting her pets, something Stolas didn't like at all. He knew his father didn't like it when he cried, but he didn't want to get married to someone he didn't know, especially someone so angry!

He knew it was unbecoming of a Goetia, but he hadn't been able to help it: he'd burst into tears. And when his father told him to stop, it had only made him cry harder.

His father had had Mr. Butler take him to the circus to try to cheer him up, but Stolas just wanted to go to his room; he didn't want to be around anyone, especially when his father wasn't even actually there.

But that had all changed when the clowns had been introduced.

Stolas had watched, wide-eyed, as two young boys about his own age, flew high above the crowd, but he only had eyes for one of them. There was just something about the air he projected, the confidence and joy he radiated that drew Stolas' gaze right to him, and the owl couldn't look away.

Even when he had trouble making his balloon horse, he hadn't let it get to him for long, and when the horse he did manage came out without legs, he'd made a joke, the first thing to make Stolas genuinely laugh the whole day. The owl had giggled, even though no one else had, showing his appreciation for the boy's cleverness.

He'd fully expected any sort of celebrations to be over once the show ended; they would go home, and he would start studying his grimoire, so that he would be ready for his next lessons. Stolas had his purpose now, and he needed to start fulfilling it as soon as possible.

So when his father had instructed him to come with him out to the drive, that he had one more surprise for him, Stolas had not known what to expect. He certainly hadn't thought he'd ever get a chance to meet the clown from the circus, and when his father had said he was his new friend, Stolas had been ecstatic!

He said his name was Blitzo, and Stolas had been only too happy to introduce himself, bowing to him to be polite and friendly….., which had apparently been the wrong thing to do. It earned him a slap and a reprimand from his father, reminding him that others bowed to them, that he was little more than an idiot, that he had to do better. But he hadn't been able to help it, he was just so excited to make his first friend!

Stolas had shown Blitzo his books, and even though his new friend hadn't seemed that excited about them, he had been delighted to have someone to share them with at all. And then Blitzo had taught him how to play Treasure Hunt, a fun imp game he'd never heard of! Though that wasn't that surprising; he hadn't heard of a lot of games before now. Stolas spent a lot of time on his own, which was why he loved his books and plants so much.

They had played Treasure Hunt for a while, moving through a bunch of different rooms in the palace, running down the hallways, something he was never allowed to do. He had had a little trouble keeping up with Blitzo at first, but his new friend seemed to be having fun, and it wasn't long before Stolas was, too.

The two of them ended up under the chandelier, giggling and looking up at it, just enjoying playing games, and Stolas knew he'd never had a birthday as fun as this one before. This was the best birthday ever!

They had drawn a little bit after that, and Blitzo had shown off his horse-drawing skills, something that delighted Stolas. He had started out drawing a plant, but decided he would much rather draw himself and his new friend having fun. And then Blitzo had had the amazing idea of putting the two drawings together so that the little figures of the two of them were riding the horse, an idea Stolas loved. He drew little versions of them on Blitzo's drawing, and his friend added horses to Stolas', so they could each have some version that had artwork done by both of them. Stolas knew that he was going to treasure this drawing for the rest of his life, and before they went outside to play some more, he put it in a safe place, so he could save it for later.

The little prince led the way into the garden, beneath his favourite tree. He flipped through a few pages of his grimoire as Blitzo climbed the tree. When Blitzo asked about it, Stolas proudly told him about what his job was going to be…., even though he wasn't entirely certain what it all meant. Blitzo was the first person Stolas had ever told about the fact that he didn't really know what he was supposed to do, or even if he'd be any good at it. But his friend had seemed interested, which made Stolas feel better about everything, especially when Blitzo told him his own dreams for his future, and that he might even hire him after everything.

The more Blitzo told him, the more Stolas got to know the other boy, the more he liked him. Blitzo knew so much that Stolas didn't, and he didn't treat him the way pretty much everyone else did; he just treated him like another kid, like his friend. There was something so new about that, and Stolas desperately wanted more. It felt good to finally have a friend.

He'd been leaning back against the tree, gazing up at its branches, lost in thought, wondering when the next time Blitzo would be able to come visit when his friend spoke. Stolas sat up a bit, so he could see the other boy, a bright smile on his face.

❝ So it's your birthday, right ? ❞ Blitzo asked, and Stolas nodded, still beaming. For at least a little while longer, it was still his birthday, and he could keep spending time with his friend. ❝ But you didn't blow out any candles or make your wish. ❞

Stolas blinks at that, putting a hand up to his chin as he thinks. "I can't remember the last time I had candles on my birthday," he admits, hoping that doesn't sound strange. "I had a little cake last year, but that was before the old cook left." He glances over at his friend, eyes still wide and bright. "Do you always celebrate with candles and making a wish?" The idea is exciting; usually his birthdays were just another day. Today had been different because he'd received his grimoire, but next year his father probably wouldn't even be here, not in person.

He watches in fascination as Blitzo hops down from the root to draw in the dirt, leaning forward to try to see what he was doing before he finished. And as Blitzo stands back, clearly proud of what he's made, Stolas sees the drawing for the first time.

Blitzo had drawn a birthday cake in the dirt, candles sitting on top, clearly meant to show that they were alight, so they could be blown out. Stolas looks over at Blitzo, a little flush colouring his cheeks, as his friend explains how it works with a drawing, and the owl nods enthusiastically.

He glances down at his cake, and takes a deep breath, all four eyes closing tightly as he makes his wish. "I wish we can stay friends," he thinks, pouring his heart into the thought, into the wish. Stolas remembered hearing somewhere that you shouldn't say what you wished for or it wouldn't come true. And he so desperately wanted this wish to come true.

After a moment, he opens his eyes again, and stamps out the candles drawn into the ground, a little giggle leaving him as he does his best to leave the rest of the cake intact, not wanting to destroy the drawing his friend had worked so hard on. Stolas knew he couldn't save it, not the way he'd done with Blitzo's other drawing, but maybe it could stay there for a few days, at least, and he could see it when he came out to the tree.

"This has been the best birthday ever," he declared, impulsively hugging his new friend. "Thank you for spending the day with me!"

[wayliparker-co]

🫂🌃

hi anon!!

🫂 who can we expect to see?

there will definitely be appearances from the rest of the party, esp el and max (veryyyy heavy willel and madwheeler vibes in this teehee). i also think we are going to try to work in some jonathan content when possible and maybe some nancy as well although as of right now we don't have Official scenes w them in the outline yet (no jancy in this for the record but. there is some Lore around their respective ships. if ur curious). also an oc or two might have some little appearances here and there, but none that will be Huge parts of the story behind some significant Incidents And Events. teehee.

🌃 how extensive is this universe?

this is probablyyy the most extensive universe i've ever created beyond like. my own little headcanons for the stories i write etc. we already have at least three companion fics Officially planned, w a couple additional ideas for fics/epilogues/bonus chapters set after the main story that have yet to be fleshed out. we've also come up with a lottttt of backstory for both mike and will between the two timelines, most of which will at least get referenced in the main fic if not entirely explored. we've also given most of the other characters some backstory Just Because (see my earlier comment abt jonathan and nancy) which will also probably get referenced in the fic a few times. however if there's ever any lore that doesn't make it into the main fic or a companion fic, or if something gets mentioned as a throwaway line but there is more detail behind it, we will be happy to share more about it on this blog!!!

the game <3

[bredforloyalty]

it's just like me to answer [checks time] nearly 7 hours later

[flockrest]

thinks about tu.lin and all the healthy influences in his life that have helped shape, nurture, and strengthen his drive and confidence for all of two seconds before just. blubbering

[thebenjiblackwoodexpress]

Devil's Snare Part. 9

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Description: Aemond arrives too late to the Red Keep to prevent the events of Blood and Cheese. His wife, who witnessed the brutal killing is left traumatised and Aemond must set aside his feelings of guilt to comfort her.

Previous part Next part

Writer's note: I'm incapable of being concise so I've split this into 2 parts. This part picks up right after Blood and Cheese and the next part will follow the aftermath and how seeing such a traumatic event impacts on Aemond's wife. Thank you to everyone whose sent such lovely messages about the most recent part. Genuinely makes me so happy :)

Warnings: mentions of blood but nothing graphic. Depictions of PTSD. Pretty angsty but mostly hurt/comfort.

Aemond felt the blood pounding in his ears as he pushed himself to run faster to the upper levels of the keep, shoving past guards and servants alike and taking the steps three at a time. Each step he took filled him with increasing trepidation at what he would find once he reached his mother's quarters. Panicked shouts met his ears as he turned the next corridor, and his heart dropped into his stomach as he recognised the voice of Y/N, laced with hysteria among the din. He picked up his pace as he heard her shout his name, as if she already knew he was coming. He practically growled at the King's guard occupying the hall.

"Step aside." The guards immediately scattered, allowing Aemond to push past them into his mother's chambers. He had no doubt that his rage and desperation was plain to see on his face. All this seemed to fall away in the instant he saw his wife holding her knees to her chest on the floor as she frantically pushed two maesters and his mother away from her. Nothing mattered now except her, not vengeance, not the painful mixture of grief and guilt that wracked his own body.

He crossed the room in several large strides, angered by the way the maesters crowded around his wife when she was so clearly in a state of shock and pushing them forcibly away.

"What is the meaning of this? Get away from her. Can you not see she is distressed?" At his demanding tone the maesters dispersed, clearly unwilling to face the wrath of the Prince.

Alicent's looked up at the sound of his voice, a look of relief washing over her expression he couldn't understand as she rose from her crouched position by Y/N and hurried towards him.

"Thank the Seven Aemond. She'll allow no one near her and she needs the attentions of a healer." Aemond's eye never left Y/N as his mother spoke, she had not even seemed to notice him enter, her eyes seemingly glazed over as if staring at something he could not see. "Aemond she keeps asking for you."

Aemond did look at his mother then. He would have thought that he would be the last person Y/N would want near her right now....this was his fault. Nevertheless, he had heard Y/N call out for him, he was sure her desperate cry would haunt him forever. He passed by his mother, lowering himself into a crouch next to his wife before reaching out to brush her shoulder. Her glassy expression was immediately replaced by full blown terror as she flinched away from him and shrieked. Aemond quickly retracted his hand, but rushed to offer her assurances. "It me Y/N, it's Aemond. I'm here now. You're safe, I won't let anyone touch you." Y/N looked briefly confused. Though as he held his arms out towards her recognition dawned on her face. Only a moment later she had flung herself into his waiting arms, clutching at him as though for dear life as she sobbed into his shoulder. Aemond held her to him tightly, stroking her hair and whispering soothingly to her. "Sh, my love. No one will touch you again. I'm here now." Aemond felt his mother hovering next to him as Y/N seemed less likely to lash out in his arms.

She whispered into his ear, words that made his blood turn to ice. "She tried to fend off the attackers, grabbed the blade of a dagger with her bare hands to protect Helaena. Aemond, she needs to allow the maester to look at her."

Y/N had heard his mother despite her attempt at being discreet, immediately wriggling closer towards Aemond until she was half in his lap and digging her nails into his shoulders. "No" She gasped out. That decided it for Aemond.

"She said no mother. I won't have them touch her if it distresses her so. I will see to her care myself." With that he rose to stand, lifting his wife up with him as she instinctively wrapped her legs around his torso. "My sister?" Alicent closed her eyes, though tears still ran down his mother's cheek in rivulets. "Aegon is with her now. Physically she is unharmed." Aemond nodded and with one hand wrapped under Y/N's legs to support her, and the other cradling her head to his chest protectively, he strode from the room in the direction of his quarters. Y/N's sniffles, as she pressed her face into the crook of his neck to muffle her sobs, wrenched at his heart strings as they passed along the halls of the Red Keep.

He stroked her hair soothingly and tilted his head down to whisper softly.

"I know, little one. I'm taking you somewhere safe now."

All Y/N could see was red. Dark and sticky blood dripping from a dagger that glinted in the soft glow of candle light, inimical to the horrific sight before her. A gut wrenching scream pierced the quiet of the night, the rest of the inhabitants of the Red Keep still abed. She winced at the shrill sound, full of pain and anguish, before realising belatedly that it was her screaming.

Everything seemed to pass in a blur after the King's guard burst in, managing to capture one of the assailants whilst the other disappeared into the night. She was vaguely aware of someone gripping her by her arm, pulling her along hall after hall until they deposited her in another room entirely. She did not care to look around her to determine where she was or who had unceremoniously dragged her there. As soon as her arm was released her knees buckled and she fell in a heap on the floor, wrapping her arms around her knees and rocking herself, her teeth chattering and limbs trembling in her state of shock.

She felt numb and it was difficult to understand what was being said to her as all the voices around her merged together as one. When she felt hands reaching for her, tugging at her own arm, it was the hands of the assailants she felt, looking down at her own hands she felt even more alarmed to see them covered in red splodges and she could not tell if it was her own blood that drenched her skin or that of the child she had come to love, brutally murdered before her. She screamed, forcefully pushing the hands from her though they kept grabbing for her. Almost without thinking Y/N found herself shouting for Aemond. Somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind she had a vague recollection that she shouldn't be calling for him, but she couldn't seem to remember why, so muddled and panicked was she.

"Get off me. I want Aemond. Where is he?"

She looked up briefly to see Queen Alicent's large doe eyes staring at her sadly, but the faces of several men had her heart picking up in fright as she thrashed against their hold. What did they want from her? Try as she might she couldn't make out their words through her fear.

The only thought she could hold onto for long was that if Aemond were here they wouldn't dare to touch her against her will. He would help her, protect her as he always had. And his name came from her lips unbidden again.

Only a few moments later a cacophony of sounds outside the room made her wince. First pounding footsteps followed by a voice that boomed and echoed across the hall outside, then the clanging of metal signalling the movement of the guards. Y/N was breathing heavily, exhausted from her efforts to prise the insistent hands from her person, and she felt herself becoming limp. The colours in the room, of the golden flames before her and the deep russet rug beneath her converging until once again all she saw was red. Red so dark it must be blood and she could not determine whether it was real or not. She remained frozen in her horror until she felt a light touch against her shoulder, gentler than the others had been but nonetheless terrifying. Jerking backwards with a shriek, she was relieved when the owner of the hand only retracted it, speaking softly to her in words she couldn't pick out at first.

"It's Aemond."

Y/N looked up quickly at the sound of his name, her senses coming back to her as she recognised both her husband's baritone and elegant features. He'd come for her just as she knew he would, as if she had summoned him with her appellation of his name.

As soon as Aemond opened his arms to her she was falling into them, clutching at him fiercely, somehow knowing through the fog still misted over her mind that he would keep her safe. That nothing would happen to her when she was in his arms.

Tears sprung from her eyes as Aemond began to stroke her hair, assuring her that no one would touch her if she didn't want them to, that he wouldn't let them. She'd started to relax the tension in her body only for it to spring up once again as in a startled animal as she heard Alicent whispering of maesters.

She dug her nails into Aemond's shoulders, clinging to him so they would have to claw her from him if they wanted her. She barely recognised her own panicked cry "No" and worried they simply couldn't understand her. That she had lost her mind and was simply speaking gibberish, and that was why they kept ignoring her pleas for them not to touch her. Perhaps Aemond wouldn't listen to her either.

She needn't have worried. Aemond's voice was a steady anchor as he resolutely ordered the maesters away from her again, suddenly rising to stand and lifting her up with him. She quickly wrapped her arms and legs around him, not caring who saw or if they judged her for her behaviour, only pressing her face into Aemond's perpetually warm shoulder and trying to stifle her cries. She felt sick from crying, her stomach aching and she just wished for the tears to stop flowing so she could make sense of what was happening.

"I know little one, I'm taking you somewhere safe now."

Hearing his pet name for her spoken so tenderly she only cried harder, warmth and a brief sensation of security washing over her despite how scared and confused she felt.

By the time Aemond reached their chambers, Y/N's sobs had dwindled and she'd fallen silent. If it were not for the tension he could feel in her frame and her tight grip on his shoulders he'd almost think she had fallen asleep. In some ways her silence was more disturbing to him, for he could not tell what horrors plagued her mind that left her unable to voice them.

Kicking open the door and closing it behind them, trying not to jostle Y/N too much, he crossed the room and tried to place Y/N down into his armchair so he might collect some supplies he would need to treat her hands. She only clung to him tighter and he had to gently but firmly tug her arms from around his neck. "Just for a moment, my love. I won't leave you."

She let him place her down at his assurance but he could feel the heat of her stare on his back as her eyes followed his every movement as he fumbled around various drawers for what he needed. Placing the bandages, a bowl of water, and ointment he used for any cuts and scrapes he gained from training on a table, he lifted Y/N back into his arms before settling her on his lap,  wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her steady.

"I am sorry to ask it of you. But will you allow me to treat your hand, my love? It may sting a little but it is necessary."

Y/N looked inquisitively down at her own hands as if surprised to see the gash that ran across her palm, turning her head away quickly with a sharp intake of breath.

"The blood, Aemond. I can't look at it. I don't know if it's mine or the child's."

Aemond felt his heart falter. He could only imagine what his sweet and gentle wife had borne witness too, pain tearing through him for her, for his sister and for his nephew who he'd loved. He tried to focus on the fact that Y/N needed him and that this was the most she had managed to speak to him, and the most she had sounded like herself.

"You do not need to look, love."

Nodding minutely with a grimace, Y/N pressed her face into his chest, going limp in his arms as she allowed him to take her smaller hands in his own so he could assess the damage. The gash was large and had bled a lot already, but he let out a sigh of relief to see that it was not deep and had already stopped bleeding, though it looked alarming. He took a cloth and wet it with water before starting to clean the blood from Y/N's hands, routinely pressing soft kisses to the top of her head and whispered apologies as she squirmed slightly under his ministrations. He tried to be as gentle as possible, wishing more than anything not to hurt her, but knowing he had to clean the wound before any infection could take hold.

Her voice sounded so soft and quiet and vacant to his ears, like that of a ghost.

"You'll get blood on your hands." Aemond already felt there was blood on his hands borne from his actions but did not voice that fear to Y/N. He only replied "It does not matter" before taking the ointment next and methodically rubbed it over the gash, finally wrapping it with the bandages. Once he was satisfied, he brought her hand to his lips to press a tender kiss upon it.

"You did so well, my love. There is no more blood, you can look know."

Y/N withdrew from his chest to look down upon her hands, and Aemond noted that where before her eyes had seemed misted over and unseeing, likely due to shock, they were now focused and he thought she had started to come back to herself.

"I'm sorry." Her soft whisper shook him from his observations. He couldn't understand what Y/N would have to be sorry for.

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

Y/N shook her head frantically.

"I couldn't stop it. I tried...but they killed the babe anyway."

"Y/N No..."

She interrupted him, her words spilling from her mouth fast and filled with despair.

"I grabbed the knife from the tall one, clawed at him, I'm sure I left scratches on his face, but he just threw me aside like it made no difference at all. And now the little boy is dead. A son for a son they said."

Aemond fought to keep his own breathing steady, to maintain a facade of composure he didn't feel but knew Y/N needed to believe to stay calm herself. He felt anger pulsing within him in the knowledge that someone had hurt his wife and he'd not been there to defend her. Her words resounded in his mind. 'A son for a son.' He knew then what he'd feared from the moment the guard had told him of the attack. This was his fault. Not just because he'd foolishly and selfishly left his wife unprotected. But because he'd let his temper rule him on the day he'd flown to Storm's End, the day he'd killed Lucerys Velaryon. This act of violence was sown by his hands, the vengeance of The Blacks. His eyes flitted to his own hands, half expecting them to be drenched in blood. Luke's blood. Jahaerys' blood.

"Y/N look at me."

Her beautiful eyes bore into his own at his firm command and he kissed her forehead, wrapping both his arms around her now they were no longer preoccupied with bandaging her wound.

"Ñuha nedenka rina. You acted admirably. I will not have you blame yourself. This is my fault. Mine and mine alone."

Y/N ignored his attempts to reclaim the blame, seeming unable to stay on one line of thought for very long. He thought this must be her mind's way of coping.

"What does that mean?"

He assumed she meant the Valyrian. She'd told him once that she found the sound of it soothing and had hoped it would do so now.

"It means 'my brave girl.'"

Y/N slowly lowered herself to rest her head against his chest again her delicate fingers tracing the intricate designs of his brocade.

"You came when I called." Aemond was once again surprised by he turn of their conversation, his eye widening as he gazed down at her.

"Of course, I always will."

"Even though I shouted at you, and told you I wanted separate chambers, and said horrible things to you."

Aemond was surprised by Y/N's directness as she seemed to have fully come back to the present, remembering their disagreement. He quickly interrupted her ramblings.

"Always. Besides, you had every right to be angry with me. This is all my fault" Aemond dropped his gaze, unable to look Y/N in the eyes through his guilt.

"I don't blame you."

He met her gaze oncemore. Unable to believe that he'd heard her correctly.

"What?"

"I said that I don't blame you."

"But I caused all of this with my actions, and then left you unprotected..."

Y/N interrupted him then, pressing her hands to his face.

"You would never have done this. Not if it had been the other way around. I am right about that, aren't I?"

Y/N's expression was full of desperation and silent pleading.

Aemond pressed his hands against hers, holding them in place.

"You are right. It is an act of depravity I had never thought Rhaenyra capable of. It is something I could never do."

Y/N sagged against him, dropping her hands from his face to rest them against his chest as she let her head fall onto his shoulder.

"I know it."

His heart clenched as he felt wet droplets against his neck, and Y/N's body shake with the renewal of her tears. His own voice cracked with emotion. He wished he could take all of the pain and misery she felt from her.

"What can I do?"

"Just hold me." And so he did. Wrapping his arms around her, Aemond held her until her breathing evened out and she fell into a restless sleep. She woke regularly throughout the night, always with him there to reassure her of where she was, that he was there, and that he would not allow anyone to harm her.

Something about being in Aemond's chambers again calmed the frantic beating of Y/N's heart as she focused on it's familiarity, along with the steady rhythm of Aemond's own heart as she laid against his chest. Realising that the red covering her hands was in fact real and not a figment of her imagination almost sent her over the edge again, and it was only Aemond's reassurance that she didn't need to look as he tenderly attended to her wound himself that she was able to get a grip on herself. As he cleaned and bandaged the gash on her hand, the fog that had befuddled her senses and left her feeling confused as to what was happening around her began to diminish. She remembered how she'd injured her hand in the first place, trying to forcibly wrench the assailant's knife away from Helaena, though it did no good at all and the memories that suddenly came flooding like a dam bursting in her mind had her burying herself further into Aemond's tunic in an attempt to smother them.

Aemond. Now she remembered why she had a strange sense that she shouldn't be calling for him to rescue her. She remembered how they'd fought over Luke, how she'd asked him to stay away from her, pushed him away time and time again, and just stopped short of calling him a monster.

And yet he'd still come running when she'd called. Y/N realised she couldn't feel angry with Aemond for Luke's death any longer. It had been an accident and in truth she knew she would have forgiven Aemond eventually for she loved him, more than she thought it possible to love someone. She also could not pretend she had not observed a certain lust for vengeance within him, one that she felt she could now at last understand. She had loved Jahaerys almost as if he were her own child, and for the first time in her life she wished to inflict pain, on whoever had ordered the atrocity.  She wanted justice for Helaena, though she knew there was no vengeance that could erase the trauma they would both now share, of losing a beloved child. Y/N didn't know how to deal with the pressing grief she now felt since her mind had cleared enough for her to regain her grip on reality and she almost wished she had gone mad, just so she wouldn't have to feel as if her heart had been replaced by a gaping wound that continued to bleed out.

"What can I do?" Y/n hated to hear how pained Aemond's voice was, like that of a wounded animal.

"Just hold me"

Feeling Aemond's arms around her somehow made the pain lessen and Y/N had the sense that in a way he was holding her together.

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[wolfchosen]

Sloane isn't gone for very long. She's learned how many seconds she needs to let the water run for—not looking down at herself, her hands, knowing that if she did she might still see blood even after it's long gone. It feels almost wrong to let it disappear down the drain, to scrub the smears from her face and from her armor. Like peeling something away and leaving herself vulnerable.

There's a long few moments, before she returns, spent looking in the mirror. She runs a hand over her now-cleaned face, and it feels like a mask—but maybe less so than usual. It always does, of course, no matter how much blood she wears. As the Slayer, she outright avoids her reflection, not that the Beast ever has any need for it.

She returns clean, with her hair down and pulled over her shoulder. Damp, where she's meticulously cleaned the blood from it. That, she will fuss about— it's one of several small concessions she makes to vanity. Her eyes, glowing red in the shadow of the wall, scan the last bloodstains on the carpet, the desk, the fire. Finally, she seats herself lightly on the arm of one of the chairs near the fire and begins about the task of remaking her braid as Enver comes over to her.

She gives a simple nod at the offer of wine, not one to turn down hospitality unless she was already irate for some reason. The flattery actually makes her chuckle slightly, though it's amused more than anything, ❛ you ought to count yourself lucky to have witnessed bhaal's chosen and lived, ❜ She says, though there's a purr of satisfaction to her tone, ❛ that alone is a cut above the fates of ordinary men. ❜

Not that she had not counted herself curious, too, but she does not flatter, or feed anyone's ego. Even the kindest of her compliments sounds almost like a veiled threat. It's the way of things.

❛ —and speaking of assassins, ❜ She finally looks up at him, where before she was focused on her braid. Her hands still. ❛ ... this is the second set i have intercepted. i do not know what you did with your previous bodyguards, but the ones you've had working since i've known you have done a decidedly poor job, in the dark of night. you will not always have the slayer crouching over your door, enver. ❜

She pulls her braid over her shoulder, now far enough down to work on it where she can see it, and adds, ❛ ...and your plan is no simple thing. it will need all three of us, and it will need us strong-willed and at our best. i meant to ask you about your personal security... and also if you have a secondary plan in place if something were to happen to one of us. namely, you. ❜

He expects wariness, a touch of defensiveness as Bhaal's favored snaps at the gently winding leash, but instead, Sloan settles in his presence with a trust (or, more accurately, a lowering of her guard) that's more precious than an entire city's gold. The edge of his thumb skim across the curve of her jaw, whereupon Enver smears more blood, a sight more familiar than stars hung across the night sky. A private smile, a held breath, he observes her muscles grow slack as each of his fingers slowly span across her neck, feeling a calm pulse greet his possessive touch. "Loyal to their Father the most perhaps.... But I shall trust you in the matter."

As Sloane moves, aware of her eyes following his every move, Enver turns his back to her willingly and kneels by the corpse. Inspects the tattoos, recognizing the syndicate roots. It seems his recent moves made some powerful individuals upset enough to hire assassins. How quaint.

"Use it as you see fit. What's mine is yours, my dear," he murmurs, gesturing vaguely toward the lavish washroom. On any other night, Enver might've invited himself along and offered to clean with indulgent care, but the work demands his full focus as he returns to planning, weighing the threat and worth of each opponent. It's not a compromise at all when he enjoys, excels really, at such machinations, mind kept keen. The Urge's companionship is merely a boon; a most favored and sharpest in a box of tools.

However, not blind to his hubris, he is aware that if handled poorly, Sloane would dismantle him easily as she's done with the corpses — and the thought is less off-putting than one would guess.

By the time his company returns, refreshed, the remains were cleared away with only a lingering stain on the floors where it was scrubbed clean. The scratch of quill against parchment continues for moments longer before he sets them aside, acknowledgement gracing his features in the form of a smile. "Would you care for wine? I realize I've been a poor host since your arrival." He gestures toward the lounging area, near the fireplace, and vacates the territory of his desk where business takes precedence.

"You made for a singularly impressive first meeting. Do you recall? It must've been any ordinary day and kill for you, but I found myself deeply desiring to know more about you, Sloane. That desire has yet to wane, deep into our partnership as we are." Her name rolls off the tongue, decadent and smooth as the wine he offers in crystal glasses. "Now, what is that you wish to discuss?"

[feroshgirlsims]

List 5 facts about your favorite sim. Then, send this to 10 simblrs whose sims you adore. 💚

Thanks to @tavvles and @citylighten for this ask! I'm hard at work on the next adventure for Vlad, Alice, and Akira, but figured I'd share a lil preview of Vlad while dropping some facts 😈

Vlad has never been to hospital. As far as he understands it, hospitals are places where sims go to die and/or have sex in the breakroom in between shifts. This is based on the week he spent binging every episode of Residency of the Heart.

Vlad considers himself to be pansexual. He doesn't actually care about Alice or Akira's gender, only that they set his bones on fire and make him feel tethered to this earth.

Vlad is a little brat. Actually, more like a big brat. It's a state of mind. A way of being—his joie di vivre, if you will. "Brattiness is next to godliness," he likes to say, mostly because it makes Akira's eye twitch.

Vlad's favorite show is Of Tea and Treachery. Do not ask him about it. He is physically incapable of talking about it in a sane or concise manner.

Vlad hates peonies. He thinks they are basic. He finds them OFFENSIVE. He once had a nightmare that his entire wedding was decorated with them. Alice wore the flower in her hair, Akira had one pinned to his suit, and they were sprinkled all along the aisle. He woke up screaming and has not slept well since.

[egophiliac]

HELLO GOOD MORNING OR AFTERNOON OR NIGHT. So i started playing twisted wonderland recently and have been enjoying the main story so far, but i have a question. Are there other things i have to check out to understand the lore? I know there is a manga, and i think that there are also some event stories. Do i have to seek out these other things or should i just keep playing the main story?

welcome to Twst! 🎉🎉🎉 I admit upfront that I am not 100% plugged-in to the fandom at large, so if anything I say is wrong, somebody please correct me!

generally I think the game is considered, like, the "default" canon, and you don't need to read the manga (and I think there are some light novels too?) unless, y'know, you want to! they're adaptations of the main story and are basically their own canon, with their own takes on the characters and story. I do sometimes see references but not in, like, a way that requires you to have read them (like a bunch of people started using the manga's designs for little Riddle+Trey+Che'nya after that chapter came out, but no one would be like "uhhh that's wrong" if someone used their own design for them, if that makes sense) (their manga designs are extremely cute though, I want Riddle's sweater in real life).

in terms of the game itself, I would say you might want to read at least some of the personal stories -- there are a lot of them, but they're also usually pretty short, and they're where a lot of the character details and interactions and extra silly stuff tend to be hidden. people upload them to YouTube and/or post translations, so they're pretty easy to find even if you don't have the cards!

most of the events are similarly pretty fun, but they are skippable if you really don't want/have time to read them, since they don't tend to get referenced outside of the event (except for one throwaway reference to Master Chef in episode 7, which honestly still blows my mind that they acknowledged an event in the main story). the ones that take place in characters' hometowns have also traditionally introduced a relative/related character/whatever-Kifaji-is of the event SSR, so those are definitely worth a read if you're interested in that!

tl;dr because I'm incapable of being concise: manga/novels are their own canon separate from the game, you can stick with just the game's main story if you want but it's worth also reading the personal stories/events for the character bits (and it is 100% worth it just to go through episode 5 knowing that Vil has Floyd-juice rubbed into his face the whole time)

[helloarchivist]

Would you want to pull that Shanks has separation anxiety hc back out from under the bed and maybe perhaps share it with the rest of us? Tbh I LIVE for the head canons you share!!

You are so sweet!!!! 😭😭😭 I'm sorry I've been sitting on this one for several days now, I wanted to be at least sort of clear-headed to answer it properly. Some of this is going under a readmore because I'm incapable of answering things concisely lmfao.

Edit: for anyone watching out there this post is riddled with spoilers so read at your own risk.

**

I think about Shanks and all of his sublimated feelings and fears and dreams so much it makes me so crazy and sad lmfao. Focusing in on the fears part though like...abandonment and loss have been really central themes in his life.

He was found in a locked treasure chest - seemingly abandoned by his biological family (which in the end, good, because if they are who we think they are they suck anyway).

He spends his childhood aboard the LITERAL ship of dreams, two of the most prolific men of that era are his father figures, he has this incredibly close relationship with Buggy, he is soaring on the wings of this burgeoning era, where the only limits he has are what his imagination and talent allow him to be capable of...and then it all just stops.

The family that he knows sails away to the end of their journey without him because he opts to stay behind with Buggy when he gets sick, and nothing is ever the same or right again. Roger sickens, Rayleigh's mind begins to fray. The crew disbands. Everyone disappears.

Roger allows himself to go to the gallows, and on the way there he lays the future of their world on the shoulders of a grieving 14 year old boy, who has to now learn what it means to be utterly alone in a world that has not only branded him enemy, but whose governing structures are fully aware of his power and the danger his talent and proximity to Roger entail.

The only person he had there with him, Buggy, runs out on him - for reasons that were understandable, but could have been avoided by words neither of them had the emotional maturity to express, especially not in the moment of such anguish and grief.

He eventually finds people, good people, new friends and comrades, people he can trust, but even then he is having separation and its cost modeled for him in the form of Yasopp and his son, and eventually in the form of a tenacious, lovable little boy named Luffy, who loves so fiercely and is very clearly terrified of the prospect of being left, of being alone. A fear Shanks resonates with deeply. A pain he knows he will eventually have to inflict on this little boy.

There's a lot of meta around that Shanks had no faith or interest in Luffy until he ate the gum-gum fruit and didn't think he had any potential to be a pirate, but I think that's a really shallow, kind of willfully ignorant take on it. Shanks himself found a home at sea as a boisterous naive child, and the RHP more than have the capability of looking after a child with a penchant for trouble...but that's how he lost his world, too.

Leaving Luffy behind hurt him, but he left him with connection, an emotionally valuable memento, and to Shanks' awareness he was leaving him with a stable support system firmly in place. There are no guarantees in this life, but he's learned through personal experience that not even the Pirate King can grant you assurance that your family at sea will survive.

ALL that to be said that I think one of Shanks' deepest, most untended hurts is loss, the loss of family, of friends, of love, and because that wound has gone unaddressed--and because he went from lost 14 year old boy to Captain to Yonko in such quick succession, and there doesn't tend to be a lot of emotional support for mythic figures of authority--it manifests as separation anxiety.

Individual members of the RHP are rarely seen off on their own, with the exception of Benn going off to rescue Luffy that one time. They all move around together.

When people leave, Shanks keeps tabs on them, when danger arises, he does his best to be two steps ahead of it. I genuinely think there's a part of him that whispers "you'll never see them again" any time someone he cares about walks out of a room, or leaves the ship a little before him. There's a reason, I think, that he's always shown to be the last person to board the ship, why he's always ushering people on ahead of him 50 times before he goes up.

With a lover, I think it would manifest tenfold, I think that's partially why he's so clingy and touchy-feely and cuddly (aside from just being literally the sweetest man alive), because to have that sort of connection means he reached out of the imposed avoidance of his own desires to really bring someone in close, and I think that kind of loss, or the perception of the possibility of that kind of loss, would devastate him in a way he wouldn't recover from.

So he holds your hand everywhere you go, shadows you through rooms, presses you close to his side when you're out at bars, and worries, just a little bit, every time you get up to go to the galley or have to take night watch without him.

Because what if it all falls apart again. What if you disappear. What if the crew disappears. Just like what happened before.

I hope this makes sense and was coherent, I just have a feeling or two about him, ya know?

[violletleduc]

hello! I chance encountered your lieutenants edit to mitski's 'shame' on tiktok the other day, so I wanted to talk about that.

firstly, what a sickening, gut-wrenching edit (in the best way); truly beautiful. secondly, I enjoy the theme of shame for these characters and all the quotes you used. 'the shame of being seen consumes me', you used for irving specifically (I also like that you gave us a close-up on his fidgety fingers; easily overlooked).

in light of that, I'm curious about your thoughts on these characters' shame. more particularly, how do you characterise their relationships with shame? what do you think is the source of their shame (in each case: for little, hodgson, and irving)? or, what do you think they are most ashamed about? (meta and/or headcanons welcome!).

of course, there's no pressure to respond. I just wanted to share how much I loved your edit (shame is my favourite mitski track, tied with eric) and ask questions if you had more thoughts on the topic :)

That's such a lovely message, thank you for your interest !! I'll try to be concises because I love puting so much thoughts in those kind of edits sksksk

- I'm so glad you liked this Irving part, it's one of my favorite! For him I perceive his shame coming from religion (not surprising), not that he have things to be ashamed of really but I think he is ashamed of "humanity" as a all yk. From this came his need to "set things right" as best as he can. The quote of him I chose : "God sees you", I cut out the "Mr Hickey" for it to be global and not aimed at anyone in particular (does it make sense ??).

The shame of being perceive by other or by God is also tormenting him. He always seems tense or slightly uncomfortable standing in front of people, it looks like he can't really take well eyes on him (really love the job of his actor for this) and so I kinda hc that his own body gives him shame too (he just saw a lot of flaws on it)

- For Hodgson, I think shame hit him before our eyes, he feels/understand it as the journey goes.

From the little we know about him I think he always felt like an outcast in life but was kinda ok with it until he didn’t match anymore what his rank demand of him and so shame came in this harsh understanding of being out of his peer's group. The shame of being the lieutenant Hickey chose to talk to because he (Hickey) saw this "weakness" in him??

His shame is in pair with guilt : I bet he wears painfully the guilt of putting Hickey in Irving's party, and then having to rely on him for surviving.

- In Little's case shame came from failure and his lack of self-worth : he is not rewarded when he succeeded and constantly blamed for every mistakes even when they are not his own, he takes the blame anyway. He fail in public, in the job that is his all life. And this shame makes him incapable of acting because it destroys his self-confidence.

He is ashamed of Crozier’s behavior and his own incapacity at helping him after Franklin's death. He's ashamed for falling for Tozer's words during the opening of the armoury. He's ashamed of proposing to leave the sick. He's ashamed of not being able to make his view value.

I feel like it's a never-ending circle for him, he is trap in this shit.

[the-oracle-of-the-lost]

hi 💕 you said a little while ago that you'd be willing to recommend people some Benny books and I have to travel for work rn, so i finally get some peace and quiet to read them!

i started at the beginning with Dead Men Diaries, which gave me the impression that the Bennys are largely self-contained, so i just skipped ahead to the one people talk about and read (about half of) Where Angles Fear. tumblr has since informed me that this may have been an odd place to start 😅

i'm coming from the Gallifrey audios so Brax Content™ is a definite plus, and i like what i've heard about the dellah era, but otherwise i have no clue where to start reading. any ideas? 🙏🩵

oh i'm very glad to write up a guide/some recs!! putting all of this under a cut because it's very long and i'm incapable of being concise.

i will say that the Benny stories aren't quite as serialized as Gallifrey but there definitely are story arcs and i find the story arcs to be more rewarding than the standalone episodes so the arcs in brief are:

Dellah arc: set after Benny left the Doctor for the last time and following her divorce from Jason Kane as she becomes an archaeology professor at St Oscars' University on Dellah but things start to be derailed as Benny and her friends are caught in a conflict between a supercomputer called God and Old Gods emerging from Dellah itself. spans all of the Benny VNAs from Oh No It Isn't! (book version) to Twilight of the Gods. a few of these stories have been reworked to form the first season of Benny audios but a lot of their arc-specific aspects were removed. the audio adaptations are still good but are just different stories.

Collection arc: sometime after the Dellah arc, Benny goes to work on the Braxiatel Collection with a new cast of side characters; there are a lot of mini-arcs within the Collection era as it went on for so long but they do all form a cohesive story that focuses a lot on Benny & Brax's relationship. the arc starts with the anthology Dead Man Diaries and finishes with the audio Escaping the Future. i'll list the Essential Stories later down because the stories are a lot more interconnected than other eras.

Legion arc: immediately after the Collection arc, Benny has lost her friends and family and ends up on a strange world without history. after getting a message from Irving Braxiatel (but not quite her Irving Braxiatel), she and a new friend roadtrip to Legion, infamously one of the worst planets in the galaxy. this arc is considerably shorter and has more standalone stories than the previous two but does build off of the Collection era so i'd recommend listening to it afterwards. it spans from the audio Year Zero to the audio In Living Memory. (unlike the other two arcs, there are novels but they're not at all essential to the story as a whole.)

New Seven & Ace arc: i hesitate calling this an arc because it only makes up two boxsets but i feel weird not including it. i remember it being pretty decent but haven't listened to it in eight years so my only memory of the stories is that they exist and act as a reboot to the previous Benny series so there's very little continuity.

Warner!Doctor arc: Benny ends up in an alternate universe (from Doctor Who Unbound's Sympathy for the Devil and Masters of War which i honestly recommend as stories separate from any Benny stuff) where the universe has been ravaged by a horrible war and the Doctor is left as President of the Universe (much to his horror). i haven't listened to the last two boxsets of this but overall what i've heard is good but nothing special and like the Seven & Ace stories, it's pretty separate from the rest of the Benny series and is more similar to normal Doctor Who stories.

anniversary anthologies: there are a few Benny special anthologies that have come out from 2017 to the present – both prose/audiobook and audio dramas – that have stories set across all of these Benny eras. most of them are quite fun and good but obviously all of them are standalone and not too related to anything else so they might act as a good sampler.

as i kind of noted, some of these arcs are more interconnected than others but you shouldn't be too lost if you start the Collection arc without knowing the Dellah arc or Legion without the Collection arc though you may get some spoilers. when most people refer to Benny stories, they're probably talking about the Dellah & the Collection arc so i'll go more in depth with stories i'd recommend from those eras because they're also both the hardest to get into because of how long they are and how, in the Collection's case, they go back and forth between books and audios.

for Legion era & the Benny-Doctor stuff i'd just recommend listening to the audios in order of release since they're short enough and generally consistent quality.

DELLAH ERA:

as a note my Dellah/VNA knowledge is not the best and i read the stories originally mostly for Brax & Benny moments so i know i'm missing some important or good stories from this list but honestly you can get most of the context from reading tardis wiki.

Dellah arc essential stories (i've also bolded stories i would describe as Good):

Oh No It Isn't! – the first book. introduces the setting and some bigger plot elements

Dragons' Wrath – first Brax appearance in the Benny books

Beyond the Sun – not essential but it's good and it re-introduces Jason Kane (who previously appeared in the VNAs proper)

Down – idk if it's a good story but the ending has fundamentally shaped my view of Benny + there's some vaguely plot important stuff

Deadfall – i don't remember this being a good book but it does re-introduce an important character

Ghost Devices – note that i haven't actually read this one but i do know it introduces an important character and i probably should read it

Walking to Babylon – again, not a book i've read but i like the audio adaptation and i've heard the original book is better.

Where Angels Fear – this is where the plot really kicks off and is a great book. however i would recommend reading a few other Dellah books first just to get a sense of the characters and setting because it'll hit a lot more

The Mary Sue Extrusion – another book that i haven't actually read but i do know has some plot importance. i've heard that it's kind of bad though so you can do what i did and infer the plot

Dead Romance – completely unessential to the ongoing plot but if you like Lawrence Miles books or high concept science fiction in general then i'd highly recommend it

Tears of the Oracle – phenomenal book and very important to the plot

Return to the Fractured Planet – this is one of the worst books i've ever read but unfortunately it is plot important. i'd recommend just skipping it tbh

The Joy Device – not plot important but very fun

Twilight of the Gods – the big finale

in addition to those books, there is some continuity from the VNAs proper from the following however you can probably get by without context:

Love and War – Benny's introduction

Theatre of War – Brax's introduction

The Also People – introduces the People and God who play a big role throughout Dellah

Death and Diplomacy – i haven't read but introduces Jason Kane

Happy Endings – Benny's wedding

COLLECTION ERA:

i'm much more familiar with the Collection era but again i don't know/remember everything so if i've missed something feel free to point it out. also my mistake when i first went through the era years ago is thinking that the audio stories make up the bulk of the plot and the books/anthologies are optional and they are deeply not. reading the prose stories makes for a completely different (and better) experience so i'll make a note of which stories are audio dramas/novels/novellas/short stories.

Dead Men Diaries (ANTHOLOGY) – the first anthology that involves the Collection. like you noticed the stories here are very standalone (and some of them aren't Collection related at all) but i'd at least recommend Steal From the World, The Light That Never Dies, Christmas Spirit, and The Least Important Man.

The Squire's Crystal (NOVEL) – arguably not a good book but bits are funny and it ends up being very important later

The Stone's Lament (AUDIO) – still, not a great story but it's Adrian's first audio appearance and an important follow up from The Squire's Crystal

The Extinction Event (AUDIO) – Brax's first audio appearance and a good story to boot!

The Infernal Nexus (NOVEL) – kind of a weird one to recommend but it's one of the few directly connected stories from the Dellah era and provides a pretty important resolution for a cliffhanger set up in Twilight of the Gods and re-introduces Jason in the Collection era, also an important reveal at the end of the story.

The Glass Prison (NOVEL) – my expectations going into this book were low because it deals with pretty sensitive stuff topics but i was pleasantly surprised.

The Green Eyed Monsters (AUDIO) – big tonal shift from following up a horror book with a light comedy but that's Benny for you.

The Dance of the Dead (AUDIO) – not horribly important but it's a good audio story

A Life of Surprises (ANTHOLOGY) – most of the stories here are good (or even great) but in particular i'd recommend The Shape of the Hole, Kill the Mouse!, A Mutual Friend, Something Broken, The Collection, Time's Team, And Then Again, Paydirt, and Dear Friend

The Mirror Effect (AUDIO) – phenomenal story and incredibly important to future stories, essential Brax listening

The Bellotron Incident (AUDIO) – kind of a meh story but it introduces Bev who will be very important in the future

The Poison Seas (AUDIO) – an okay story with one very great scene and a very important ending

Life During Wartime (ANTHOLOGY) – if you read one Collection era thing, make it this anthology. all of it is serialized, nearly every story is fantastic, and it tackles some very important topics. this is the anthology where the Collection as a setting is really fleshed out.

Death and the Daleks (AUDIO) – the audio follow-up to the previous anthology. it's great but maybe not as great as Life During Wartime.

The Grel Escape (AUDIO) – kind of a silly episode that becomes quite dark

A Life Worth Living (ANTHOLOGY) – overall a great anthology but i'd specifically recommend Misplaced Spring, Final Draft, Against Gardens, A Summer Affair, Denial, Reparation, and Mentioning the War.

A Life in Pieces (NOVELLA ANTHOLOGY) – the first two stories are kind meh but eventually important and the last story (On Trial) is both very good and important

Masquerade of Death (AUDIO) – great character study of Benny and Adrian

The Heart's Desire, Kingdom of the Blind, and The Lost Museum (AUDIO) – grouping these together because they're all good standalone stories but nothing special

Parallel Lives (NOVELLA ANTHOLOGY) – a weird recommendation because the novellas themselves are... alright (Hiding Places has some great development/backstory for Bev and Adrian) but the linking material between the Novellas is incredibly important and good.

Something Changed (ANTHOLOGY) – definitely the most high concept and abstract Benny anthologies as one of Braxiatel's inventions gone wrong takes us through a series of alternate universes. some stories are better than others but i'd recommend reading the whole thing.

The Goddess Quandary (AUDIO) – the story itself is a fine standalone Benny story but the narration surrounding the way it's told will be important later on (without spoiling too much).

The Crystal of Cantus (AUDIO) – probably my favorite Benny audio, there's been years of build up to it and it does not disappoint. incredibly important for Braxiatel but also great for Benny and Jason.

The Tartarus Gate (AUDIO) – alright episode with a great (and important) ending

Timeless Passages (AUDIO) – very solid standalone Benny story

The Worst Thing in the World (AUDIO) – a break from some of the darker stories to go on a silly adventure ending in a musical number. it's very fun.

Collected Works (ANTHOLOGY) – another fantastic anthology that ends up being very serialized so i'd recommend reading it all.

Summer of Love (AUDIO) – it's incredibly cringe but if you like silly sex pollen scifi stories give it a listen, if you don't then best skip it.

The Oracle of Delphi (AUDIO) – alright standalone episode with some plot important bits

The Empire State (AUDIO) – plot important and quite good.

Tub Full of Cats (AUDIO) – if you like surreal character driven scifi then this is for you. we also start season 8 of the audios which is by far the best run of Benny audios ever and is heavy on both ongoing plots and characters.

The Judas Gift (AUDIO)

Freedom of Information (AUDIO)

The End of the World (AUDIO) – if you like Jason Kane this will be your favorite story, if you don't like Jason Kane this will change your mind.

The Final Amendment (AUDIO) – involves Kadiatu Lethbridge-Steward from the VNAs which is a fun tie-in but you don't need to know anything about her to listen and have a good time

The Wake (AUDIO) – very good but also a very difficult story to listen to

Beyond the Sea, The Adolescence of Time, The Adventure of the Diogenes Damsel, and The Diet of Worms (AUDIO) – all make up s9 of Benny and are all good standalone stories with some lingering aftermath of The Wake. also bonus points for The Adventure of the Diogenes Damsel for covertly bringing back some wild VNA lore and being a Sherlock Mycroft Holmes story.

Glory Days (AUDIO) – incredibly fun bank heist episode and getting back to some of The Big Plot

Absence (AUDIO) – a good standalone Peter episode but nothing special

Venus Mantrap (AUDIO) – the last of the silly fun Benny episodes

Secret Origins (AUDIO) – plot important but tbh not an episode i enjoy

Dead and Buried (ANIMATION SHORT) – the only animated short Big Finish has ever done and between the clunky animation and thin plot you can see why. however it is plot relevant.

Resurrecting the Past (AUDIO) – the penultimate Benny audio where Plans Are Revealed

Present Danger (ANTHOLOGY) – the story quality is variable but i'd recommend reading it for a few good stories and to help with the pacing of the last act

Escaping the Future (AUDIO) – it might not be the best finale the Collection arc could have had but it is the finale and there's some very good stuff in here.

anyways sorry i know this guide is horrendously long but hopefully it's helpful! and while i do think the Benny stories are best experienced in order (ish), most of them (except for the later Collection arc) can be read or listened to alone if you're willing to miss out on some context or do some tardis wiki reading.

if you're interested in just having a taste of some different Benny eras i'd recommend reading Dragons' Wrath for a taste of the Dellah era (or honestly just start reading books and skip around until you find one you like), listening to The Extinction Event or reading/listening to Life During Wartime/Death and the Daleks for a taste of the Collection Era, or with the other eras just dive into the first episode.

[imminentinertia]

111 years of queer cinema - 2019:

एक लड़की को देखा तोह ऐसा लगा (Ek Ladki Ko Dekha Toh Aisa Laga) / How I Felt When I Saw That Girl

Bonus short: 兔兒神 (Tu'er Shen) / Kiss of the Rabbit God

Country: India Director: Shelly Chopra Dhar Letterboxd Where to watch: Netflix, depending on region

Synopsis: Sweety has to contend with her over-enthusiastic family that wants her to get married, but the ultimate truth is that her love might not find acceptance in her family and society.

In 2018, India finally decriminalised homosexuality after a long legal dispute. In 2019, an Indian film showing queer women in a positive light premieres, with a script written by Gazal Dhaliwal who's a trans woman. Debuting director Shelly Chopra Dhar was 62 then. There's a lot to be impressed by with this.

Kuhu (Regina Cassandra) and Sweety (Sonam Kapoor)

This is a mainstream film. It's Bollywood. The intended audience is the general desi public, and Dhar's mission was to give normalising and accepting queerness a solid nudge.

How I Felt When I Saw That Girl has a pretty classic Bollywood plot, where the girl (Sweety) can't possibly marry this unsuitable guy (Sahil), but lo and behold! Her family decides to let her follow her heart and marry him after all! And then there's a really delicious switcheroo from the love interest being the guy to the real love interest being another girl, Kuhu.

Sweety stating mid-film her reason to not marry any guy was a massive plot twist to the mainstream audience, and not an especially welcome one to a good part of it. How I Felt When I Saw That Girl didn't do great commercially. The film doesn't pull its punches, when it shows people leaving in disgust during a play where Sweety and Kuhu play lovers, presumably everyone involved in the production knew all too well that precisely that could happen at screenings. However, it's a very charming as well as a thought-provoking film, and the unmarriable Sahil turns into Sweety's friend and helps her convey her feelings to her family.

This film is one of the stepping stones in queer acceptance in India, which is moving in the right direction overall - more people were apparently positive to same-sex marrage in 2021 than in 2016, for instance.

Maybe How I Felt When I Saw That Girl feels a bit on the nose sometimes, and maybe the acceptance comes a little too easily when it does, but a Bollywood romance isn't necessarily all that complicated or realistic. Inside the mainstream wrapping there's a very controversial love story, possibly made a bit more palatable due to how it's told.

Bollywood star and internationally famous Anil Kapoor in the role as Sweety's father (he's Sonam Kapoor's father in real life) is a special treat. His constant battle with his mother about being allowed to cook the family's meals, and having had to give up his youthful dream of becoming a great chef, makes for a bittersweet side story of coming to terms with having been made to live your life a certain way, acceptable to others but not ideal for you.

Oh, and the title of the film is from one of the most popular romantic Indian songs ever:

Bonus short film: Kiss of the Rabbit God

Country: USA Director: Andrew Huang Letterboxd Where to watch: YouTube

Synopsis: A Chinese restaurant worker falls in love with an 18th century Qing dynasty god.

I'm incapable of doing the year 2019 without mentioning Kiss of the Rabbit God, so there goes the "one film per year" plan (and much the same thing happened with the 2020 post ...).

Shen (Jeff Chen) and Matt (Teddy Lee), and just look at how beautiful this shot is

Even with all the visual delight of this absolutely stunning short film, it's also a special treat for film sound enthusiasts. Listen.

I've lost count of the times I've watched this gorgeous, concise but unrushed feast for the eyes - the set designs, Shen's insanely stylish costumes, the flow of red everywhere in both chaotic restaurant scenes and serene dreamlike scenes as the rabbit god Shen guides restaurant worker Matt to claiming his true self.

Some background about the rabbit god myth isn't required to enjoy the film, but it adds some depth.

111 years of queer cinema masterlist

Divider made by sister-lucifer