#I will not believe that choosing to pray does nothing.

[nc-vb]

if it’s gotten to the fucking point that the Ministry of Education has to announce that “the school year is cancelled” for part of Gaza because all its students have been murdered, humanity has failed, failed at everything— flat out, point blank, and unequivocally failed.

[tacticalprincess]

how would konig react to reader getting jealous?? ps i love ur writing!!

jealousy is könig’s weakness. in his twisted brain, it’s one of the upmost proofs of devotion. you wouldn’t be this worked up if you didn’t truly care about him, and that thought makes his heart swell in his chest and his dick fill in his pants.

watching you pout and refuse to talk to him after he was oblivious to some civilian flirting with him— grazing her hand along his bicep, batting her eyelashes up at him— he would be so confused at first. he thought she was just thanking him for his service, why are you dragging him away now? it all clicks for him when you mutter “more like begging you to touch her cervix” and he can’t help but smile to himself. so you fear losing him just as much as he does you? (that may be a stretch, but he’ll choose to believe it.)

he loves the role reversal, it’s about time you get a taste of how he feels about you on a daily basis. the head rush it gives him to see you care about him so much is addicting. he’ll start purposefully putting himself in position to be flirted with, which is getting increasingly easier when he’s clad in all his military gear— unfortunately for you, women love freakishly tall masked men nowadays. the way you wrap yourself around him, making your presence known and staking your claim on him for everyone to see, makes him want to give you everything. he surrenders so easily, letting you drag him home and forgetting all about the faceless person he used to make you upset. you’re just so adorable and possessive when you’re jealous, he can’t take it seriously. it always ends the same; him comforting you, swearing he’ll never leave, as you bounce yourself silly on his broad lap.

“‘s my cock, right, köni? tell me it’s mine.”

“it’s yours, liebe. every inch.” his voice is wobbly and shaky with adoration, looking up at you like you hung the stars whilst you work yourself on his meaty, throbbing dick. gummy walls clenching him tightly, almost threatening. you’ll tell him no one could handle his fat cock expect for you, empty his heavy balls like you can, and he’ll go cross eyed, “die fraumeiner träume— fucking made for it. the only cunt i’ll ever need.”

it’s hard not to believe him when he goes all stupid like this, ready to pray to god just because the feeling of you can’t be explained by anything natural. you have nothing to worry about, schatz, can’t you see you’ve ruined everyone else for him?

[walpu]

walp

hear me out on this

Aventurine's bodyguard (reader), but they are used as leverage against Aven during the 2.1 Trailblaze Quest, if Aven tries to leave the Dreamscape or reveals anything of Sunday's scheme, Sunday murders Reader and makes it seem like a freak accident 😀😀

Sunday when I catch you Sunday

I liked this request the moment I saw it so I rushed to do it as soon as I got enough time to work on it 😭

you being used against Aventurine as his weak spot during the 2.1 trailblaze quest

notes - gn!reader, 2.1 spoilers, angst but nothing bad happens to you, hopeful at the end, sunday is most likely ooc since it's written before 2.2, no beta

Sunday doesn't make a direct threat. It's a very subtle hint, a small warning. Yet it's obvious enough for Aventurine to understand the meaning behind Sunday's words immediately. How can he not when it concerns you?

There's a visible anger on his face when he glares at Sunday.

"You wouldn't dare, you wing-headed bastard. Do you think the IPC is stupid enough to believe that the death of my personal bodyguard tgat accompany me everywhere is a coincidence? Do you think I'll let it slide?!"

Oh, he's seething. Such raw emotions, such obvious worry, such obvious fear. Sunday knew he would get him good but that? Truly intriguing.

But how can he not feel that way? How can he play it cool, cover his fear and shield himself with short on-line answers?

This time he can't hide how much his hands are shaking.

Sunday is quick to remind Aventurine that in his current pitiful state, 17 hours to live and all, he hardly can do anything.

He also graciously reminds Aven that nothing will happen to you as long as he does his part.

Aventurine is such a mess after that conversation. Ratio tries to calm him down a bit by rationalizing the situation. Surely Sunday is bluffing. The Family, no matter how questionable they seem, are not murderers. Plus, surely Aventurine knows his own bodyguard well enough to know that you're not easy to kill. Many has tried and yet here you are, still alive and well.

But how can Aventurine just brush it off when it's you who may be in danger?

That what he was afraid of the whole time. That he'll lose you like he has lost everyone else. That your blood will be on his hands.

He asks Ratio to look after you and to escort you to safety if something happens. The promise doesn't calm him down but Ratio is a reliable and smart person. So he chooses to trust him, no matter how hard it is. After all, Aven doesn't have much choice.

When the two of you reunite, you can immediately see that he's shaken. He tries to hide his pitiful state from you, not wanting you to know that his time is running out. He wants to warn you instead, to tell you that you may be in danger. But he knows you won't take it seriously and instead would insist on taking care of him and protecting him.

He comes up with some lies (aeons, he hates lying to you of all people) and asks you to start your own investigation. To go back to the real world and to team up with Topaz and Jade.

It takes some time to convince you but eventually you reluctantly agree. He sees how much you hate leaving him like this and it's both heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time.

Aven is an even bigger mess now than he was in the game. He tries to tell himself that you're okay, that Ratio will accompany you to the real world and Topaz will look after you once you're there.

But how can he be sure? How? His "future" self asks him this mockingly, pointing out that you're smart, that you'll immediately understand that he has deliberately sent you away to keep you from something.

No matter how msny times he tells this "future self" to shut up, he knows he's right. So he can only pray that he'll be able to deal with the Family before you get yourself in danger.

Image you showing up during the final act just to see him threatening to detonate the Stellaron. Him trying to continue the "show" despite the ache in his heart. You, knowing he's bluffing but being unable to stop this insanity.

After the events of 2.1, he seeks you out as soon as he returns to the real world. He needs to know that you're alive, that you're safe. Even if you're angry with him now, even if you may not forgive him (of course you will he's just insecure like that), he needs to know you're fine.

So imagine his relief when you (safe, unarmed, alive) embrace him and hold him tightly, so overwhelmingly happy he's back.

image his reaction to finding out that you're alive and well and sunday has presumably kicked the bucket 💀

[fraugwinska]

A very incomplete list of Hazbin Hotel Fanfiction Authors/Geniuses

I cannot believe the awsome, talented, absolute magnificent people I've met through this fandom. Writing FF for Hazbin Hotel has become one of my greatest joys in life, and reading the stories and creations of my fellow friends and idols is something that can brighten my whole week - and we don't gatekeep. So, if you're in search for a good read, here are a few of the SUPER AWSOME people I stalk (and I want to stress - this list is never going to be complete, but I'll try to edit it as there are just SO MANY GODDANG MASTERS out there!) @bapple117 If you love #RadioStatic, you have to read 'Bluest Monday' (completed) and the follow-up 'Say Hello, Wave Goodbye' (WIP) She'll break your heart in the most beautiful way. If you don't fancy that but Alastor is your go-to, then you will want to dive in head-first into "If You Can't Say Somethin' Nice, Don't Say Nothin' At All" (complete). But as before, be ready for a rollercoaster of emotional moments and extremely spicy shenanigans.

@hazelfoureyes Goddess of the smut, Hottest writer in Hell - If you're horny, Hazel has got you covered. Especially her 'The safeword is Radioapple'-Mini-series will make you sweat like a Zumba-Instructor on crack. Be prepared to blush, tremble, die and immediately ressurrect, because yes. She is THAT good.

Clover/corruptedteacups on AO3 With whooping 75 chapters and 300k+ hits, her Fanfic 'The Red means I Love you' is one of the best, most detailed slow-burn-pining-angsty-smutty-will-they-wont-they Masterpieces I've read so far. Alastor is magnificent and I guarantee you'll fall in love with Clover, the bunny who captures the heart of you deerest red demon.

@melodyonthewireless Highly underappreciated (imho), her fic "A Match made in Hell" (WIP) follows her OC Sybil down to hell, into the Hazbin Hotel and consecutively the arms of Alastor - but don't you dare underestimate the pink, harmless looking doe. Sybil's witch powers and her sassy, witty personality is quite the match to the established readio overlord. It's such a read, and the wait between chapters the sweetest agony!

@macabr3-barbi3 She delivers every. single. TIME. Her Short stories and One-Shots are like Pringles - Once you pop, you can't stop. I'm deeply in love with 'Dream a little Dream' (WIP), 'Nothing I can't Handle' (WIP) makes me run for a cold shower and did I mention the countless one-shot-candies that make you mouth water and your toes curl?

@slutforalastor/InconspicuousBosch on AO3 Whether it's the One-Shots on tumblr (omg the PRIEST ALASTOR BIT *fans face*) or the incredible Choose-your-Path-Fic "Say it with a smile" (completed) - you will be both amazed at the artistry of the wording and storybuilding and blushing at the sheer craft of the smut and sexual tension.

@impale-me-radio-daddy Founder of the kink #antlerplay, his series of 'The Lookalike' is steamy, outrageous, utterly magnificent and filthy down to the bones. Be prepared for some serious questioning of your own preferences, because you WILL get some epiphanies. And that's a PROMISE.

@hurthermore Listen. LISTEN. Bimbo is the mini-series that had me on a friggin CHOKEHOLD. It takes a special talent to make one so invested in THE radio demon, gentleman a la carte Alastor believably pining after and pounding a lovable, dumb airhead sinner with a fable for skimpy dresses and leave you at the end wanting for seconds and thirds!

As I said, this is a highly incomplete list, and I'll absolutely edit this list as I go. But I needed to put this out in the world. To all of the above, and all of those which I didn't include YET but most certainly will -

I ADORE YOU, I PRAY AT YOUR FEET, YOU ARE AMAZING BEINGS AND I LOVE YOU.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

[sahkuna]

a follow up to this drabble i wrote abt fucking around with yuuji's older brother sukuna :3 but fret not, this can be read as a stand-alone

word count: 1.5k+

content warnings: 18+ minors dni, afab+fem! reader, childhood "friends" with benefits, best friend's brother trope, modern au, slight exhibitionism on the behalf of u and sukuna :3

You would rather die than step out into Sukuna's living room where his younger brother, Itadori Yuuji, sits blissfully unaware of your presence.

Half of you does not have the heart to walk out there and potentially expose the fact that ‘Hey, I’m that ‘random girl' that Sukuna has been canoodling with! Sorry about that, by the way!’ You couldn’t imagine his reaction and didn’t want to find out anytime soon, so you’re currently hiding out in Sukuna’s bedroom— praying and hoping that Yuuji would leave before you do.

After hearing the younger Itadori brother’s unrelenting fists pounding at Sukuna’s front door, you were absolutely mortified at the timing of it all. From his arrival to how Sukuna was balls deep inside your pussy— and showed little to no concern at the fact that Yuuji might hear the… commotion… on the other side— it all went from good to bad real fast.

It didn’t take long for Sukuna to grow irritated with the sounds of Yuuji’s incessant whining for him to open the door and not invite him over when he’s got ‘some girl’ there, before he finally pulled out of you, threw on some clothes and yanked the door open. Almost ripping it off its hinges.

Pushing back the thoughts of the sex (and how incredible it was), you focus on the main task at hand.

You need to leave. Now.

Squatted down on the floor, you search for your black lace bralette that Sukuna tossed into a corner hours before his little brother’s abrupt arrival. “Can’t believe this…” you mutter under your breath.

From behind you, you swear you hear a faint snicker coming from the man who got you in this predicament in the first place. He watches you with careful eyes as you tip-toe around his room with nothing but your jeans and socks on, trying not to alert your best friend in the next room over of your presence. “Relax, the brat can’t even hear you,” he says.

“You don’t know that,” you all but hiss, throwing a threatening glare (one that he doesn’t flinch under) Sukuna’s way. “He could be waiting there, ready to accost me the moment I walk out!”

Honestly, you wouldn’t blame Yuuji if he did choose to confront you and verbally rip you to shreds. For Christ’s sake, you were fucking his brother behind his back! Quite literally.

But despite the circumstances of you starting a “friends with benefits” type of relationship with Sukuna and how terrible it made you feel to secretly withhold something so significant from your best friend, you’d be lying if you said you wanted to stop.

Judging how Sukuna’s gaze trails up the expanse of your belly and lifts higher to linger briefly on the swell of your breasts, it’s safe to say he thinks the same.

 You toss a protective arm over your exposed chest to preserve some of your dignity despite the circumstances.

“Can you just—” you flounder for words, trying to find the best words to use next and finally settle on something. “Distract him? Talk to him so that when I leave, he doesn’t have time to digest that it’s me.”

There’s an amused glint in his eye, he’s far too entertained at your frail attempts to at least salvage this shitty situation. Your eyes leave him in search of your bra once more and breathe a quiet sigh of relief once you do spot it behind his dresser. “Just walk out the door. Who cares.” 

Wasting no time you throw on the undergarment, clasping it shut before your attention is drawn back to Sukuna. Your face morphs into pure astonishment at how nonchalant he is about this… and reckless. “Are you crazy?!” you whisper-yell for the second time that day.

The corners of his lips curl up, forming a wicked grin. “It’ll be fine. You should go out as you are right now.” He gestures at your half-dressed figure with an uncaring hand. “I’m sure he’ll like it.”

Speaking of…

“Give me one of your sweaters. Preferably one that has a hood.”

Sukuna’s eyes narrow, and his tone lowers a bit. “Leave with what you came with. Don’t know why you’re so threatened over the fact that he’ll see you.”

“No! Yuuji’s seen me one too many times in this shirt,” you reference the tee that is scribbled with your university’s name on its front, “so he’ll know it’s me if he were to turn his head.”

Sukuna clicks his tongue with annoyance and though it’s brief, you catch an expression that you can only chalk up to be one of disappointment flicker across his face before he schools it back into indifference. “Fine.”

Standing abruptly, Sukuna leaves his spot on his bed to head toward the closet. He digs around for a few seconds before he pulls out a black sweater and flings it at your face, effectively clouding your vision until you peel it off. “Hurry up then.” Is all you hear before he leaves the room to go see Yuuji once again.

Okay. That went… pretty well? Excluding the tough time Sukuna gave you before and after.

You let out another involuntary moan when Sukuna drives his hips into you when another round of knocks echoes throughout his apartment. You can feel your cunt squeeze around his cock, feeling the intense heat from the predicament you both were in right now.

“You’re real perverted, huh?” Sukuna’s hand finds the back of your neck. He squeezes. “Don’t tell me you’re getting turned on by this?”

Another muffled exclamation escapes you as you try to refute it, but Sukuna laughs at your attempt.

Yuuji might hear. Yuuji might hear. Yuuji might hear. That was all you could think of.

“Cute.” Is all Sukuna says before he’s back to thrusting his hips against yours. Forcing you to take it as you lay in a blissful, helpless state on his bed, rocking the bed roughly with every movement he made.

In and out, over and over and over and—

You smack your palms against your cheeks. Stop! Stop. Thinking. About it! You remind yourself.

You’re sure you’ve spent too much time here anyway, so you throw on Sukuna’s sweater hurriedly. As you hype yourself up to exit, you tuck away any hair that may show into the hoodie.

Thankfully, it seems like Yuuji has delved into chattering boisterously away about God knows what to Sukuna, while his older brother just sits there only offering a few grunts and affirmatory noises to show that he was listening. Kinda… Not really.

Stepping out from the bedroom, you close the door in a manner that would have Sukuna chiding you to ‘hurry the fuck up’. Once that’s done, you very quietly pad down the hallway and make a beeline straight towards your shoes. You thank your lucky stars you chose ones that were easy to slip on.

Great. Everything is going smoothly so far.

Yuuji’s still talking away and unaware of your company and you’re all dressed, ready to head back out to where the bustling street of Tokyo awaits you.

But it gets shot down too fast. Before you can even grasp your hand around the doorknob, you hear Sukuna speak up from behind you.

“Leaving so soon?”

That fucking asshole.

No way in hell did he just draw attention to you right as you were about to step out the door.

Biting your cheek you keep your back facing them, forehead pressed into the door’s frame as you grip its doorknob to refrain from screaming. “Mhm!”

Sukuna’s laughter is low and taunting. You can tell that he’s basking in this moment, being able to mock both you and his little brother at the same time in a manner that screams I know something that you don’t know.  “You know, she went to the same school as you, kid.” He’s now talking to Yuuji, prompting him to say something to you and he bites.

“It’s uh… nice to meet you?” you hear Yuuji say.

God, you can even picture that dumb confused yet polite expression he makes when he’s caught in an awkward situation.

“Mhm!” you repeat, because what the fuck else is there to say?

There’s a long beat of silence, the brothers don’t say anything and neither do you. You wouldn’t dare.

It isn’t until Itadori’s voice from the couch floats over to you. His tone is riddled with confusion and a bit of recognition. “Hold on, I think I—”

“I’m gonna see her off, don’t move.” Sukuna commands, successfully interrupting his train of thought. Swooping into the rescue, you hear him come up to you. He toes on his shoes and places his palm on top of yours so that he can twist the knob open. His hand dwarfs the size of your own.

Woof.

You’re ushered outside, and it’s like that all the way to the elevator with Sukuna’s hand still seizing your hand. It’s only when you slap your hand against the button calling for the elevator that he lets go. You don’t bother exchanging any parting words for him, seeing that you’re too peeved to do so anyway. Thus, Sukuna speaks up before the lift dings signifying its arrival.

“Same time next week?”

“Shut. Up!”

[catcze]

The edge of Wriothesley’s desk digs into the small of your back, the hard wood undoubtedly leaving an indent in your skin from how you’ve leaned on it. Any other time you’d frown and huff, but it was difficult to properly gripe about it right now.

“Your grace.”

“Yes?” The Duke murmurs damn near right into your ear, almost low enough to be a purr. With how close he is —how his face hovers over your and his hands rest on either side of your waist, bracketing you in— you can almost hear the rumble of the word come straight from his chest.

You can leave this proximity easily— you know this, and so does he. But for some outlandish reason, you find yourself inclined to rest here, surrounded by him, the desk at your back be damned.

“Your grace,” you try again, voice soft to match his. “What are you doing?”

It’s odd to see the normally eloquent man, who never stutters in his words or backtrack in his thoughts, to be so quieted— almost struggling with finding the right words.

“I don’t know,” Wriothesley settles on finally, a furrow in his brow. “I… don’t know. Something I should have done sooner, probably. This… thing between us has been driving me mad. I feel like I’d regret it if I hesitated any longer, you know?”

And oh, you do. The unspoken tension that hangs in the air when it’s just you two in his office, when you have lunch, or spend time together— you feel like it’s been clogging your airways and making it hard to breath. Each day with you both toeing the line of the meaning of all those longing glances and soft smiles had been wearing on you. What a relief to know that you’re not alone in your struggles.

You hum, leaning forward just enough so your nose brushes his. With a thrill in your stomach, you don’t miss how he swallows heavily, how he blushes just the tiniest bit.

“If you’ve grown tired of our song and dance, then pray tell— what do you want to do instead?”

“Whatever you want,” is his immediate answer. There’s a growing confidence in his eyes, a hope that flickers brighter and brighter with each second you let him be near you like this. “Whatever you’re willing to give me. Whether that be just a single kiss and nothing more, or being able to wake up beside you and kiss you good morning until you get sick of me.” Then he swallows, his words coming out slower. “But if you push me away and you say none of this meant anything, that’s fine too. Like I said— whatever you’re willing to give me, I’ll take without complaint.” But I really, really hope that you don’t choose that last one. I think my heart would actually break.

You can see how Wriothesley grows more tense with each second of your silence. He tries to cover it up well, but you know his tells. He glances away, the flush on his cheeks traveling up to the tips of his ears, making him look cuter than you ever thought was possible.

A soft hand on his cheek is all it takes to snap his attention back to you.

“Morning kisses don’t sound too bad,” you tell him slowly, wanting him to hear every word. You think you can feel your heart in your throat. “Though I have to ask: is breakfast gonna be included in this deal? Because a hard ‘no’ to that is an absolute dealbreaker for me.”

And when Wriothesley grins, when he has to fight the laugh that begs to be let loose from his chest and the minute tremble that rakes through his whole body, you think you’ve never seen him more radiant. You wish to see that kind of softness on him every single day. Oh, you’re so damn smitten with his man.

“You’re gonna have to settle with my shitty cooking, but I can at least promise that I’ll try.” The look in his eyes is gooey and warm and sweet— the flavor of melted chocolate and honey.

You wrap your arms around his neck, slinging them over his shoulders, and rewardingly scratching the nape of his neck when his arms come to wrap around and press you to his chest in turn. “Sounds delightful,” you say, and his heart does a flip in his chest. Can scarcely believe that this is real.

“Can I kiss you? Please?” He asks softly. “I’ve been wanting to do it for the longest time.”

You hum, looking at him from beneath your lashes. “Go right ahead, your grace.”

His thumb presses gently against the plush of your bottom lip, the edges of his restraint visibly fraying. “My name, please. If I’m going to kiss you, I’d rather have my name on your lips, not my title.”

“Wriothesley, I’m waiting for that kiss.”

You have just a split second to register the absolutely lovesick look on his face at the sound of you saying his name, the way he melts and shakes against you. How he looks at you so softly it almost makes you choke up. Wriothesley presses his lips against yours, painstakingly gentle as he moves against you, in a kiss much too long overdue— the first in a series of many that he’s all too happy to give you.

[themotherofhorses]

Does handmain!reader braid Aemond's hair? Does Aemond know how to braid his children's hair? PLS THE FLUFFFF

pairing: aemond targaryen x handmaid!reader

notes: DAD!AEMOND DAD!AEMOND DAD!AEMOND

his handmaid's tales | main masterlist

Three hours after sundown, his mother arrives at his doorway, carrying a reading lamp and two books of faith. “Would you like to sit and pray with me tonight, Aemond?” Alicent asks, but her voice soon trails off when she notices the hairbrush clutched in his hand and the twins at his knees. Both boys toy around with their tiny wooden stick swords, offering their grandmother two toothy little smiles.

“Oh, I see that you’re quite busy tonight…” she then adds, in a tone faint with teasing.

Aemond nods where he sits, gently combing out any tangles and snags in his son’s silver-pale hair. “Their mother easily puts me to shame, as she does with most things…” he mumbles, glancing sidelong at his other son, whose own shines like moonglow in a loose braid, “-but I do believe I’ve done a rather fine job with my boys.”   

Alicent hums. “Where might she be tonight? Did you dismiss her?”

Aemond gestures to his bed, where his handmaid lays fast asleep, cuddling around a pillow. As she slept, she had kicked off the blanket and sheets, and the pretty curve of her swollen belly limned in the soft glow from the hearth.

“The babe’s been stealing away most of her energy these past few days,” he tells Alicent, shaking his head. His fingers part the hair into three splits before looping the first over the second and tugging the third into the middle. “The maesters say the name day is nearing, perhaps in another fortnight.”

He refused any looks at his girl; otherwise, he’d drink in the lovely sight a bit too much like a drunken fool, and he’d prefer his mother not bearing witness to such.

Yet Alicent studies the sleeping handmaid, a shadow of a smile flickering across her lips. This time around, she had grown great with a girl, according to the maesters and midwives alike, as well as Aemond himself. He had pined so much for a daughter of his own, frequenting the sept alongside her, to sink onto his knees and pray to the Mother for a baby girl, one blessed with her mother’s features.

She hopes her son receives his daughter. He deserves it that much.

“Would you like for me to tuck in the boys for the night?”

Aemond smiles. “Ah, if it would be no bother to you, mother. I’d appreciate it…I don’t wish to leave her, not when she’s like this…” but Alicent waves him away, kneeling before the boys. “I’ll have them choose a bedtime story, and they can tell me all about their day.” So he kisses his sons on the nose and forehead before whispering a fond goodnight, sending them away with their grandmother.

And as they leave, hand in hand with Alicent, their little braids bounce with every step. The sight gives him nothing but joy and pride.

The fire in the hearth was quickly burning down to embers, and he hadn’t intended to disturb his resting girl, but he couldn’t stop himself from climbing over her. Sweeter than lemon cakes and more beautiful than all the seasons. He rubs at her bump, where hopefully his daughter sleeps too, and kisses her bare shoulder- then her cheeks and lips- and kisses her again when she murmurs in her sleep.

“You’re all I’ll ever need and more,” he breathes, nestling his head against her breast. I love you. I love you. I love you.

At that, her eyes open, and she smiles, stroking his hair. “Tomorrow, I shall braid it,” she whispers.

But Aemond snatches her hand and lifts it to his lips. “No. I’ll braid your hair, my sweet girl,” he promises, kissing each of her fingers, nipping at the skin, “I need the practice anyways.”

tag list for "his handmaid's tales": @aemondsblog @dc-marvel-girl96 @neobanguniverse @missalycat21 @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan @padfooteyes @alexizodd @avidreader73 @the-common-cowgirl @inlovewithhisblueeyes

[cranberryjuice-posts]

Pls do more Clarisse!!!! I love the way you write her!! Maybe something with reader being a child of Aphrodite. Here are some ideas you’re free to choose from! Or none at all

• Reader is told that she’s “not pretty enough to be a child of Aphrodite” and Clarisse finds her crying softly and she comforts her

•Reader tells Clarisse how much she likes to bake and Clarisse makes her bake stuff with her

•Clarisse gets her hair and nails and stuff done bye reader

Thank you!

- colors of your eyes -

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Daughter of Aphrodite! Reader

An - I loved these prompts sm UGH 😭😭 so I decided to use them all but I’m twisted some to make more sense

“Stop im serious!” You laughed as clarisse flicked some flour at you. It was your one year anniversary, so the entire day clarisse had been letting you plan out multiple dates for one another thus explaining why her hair was braided back some with flowers in it and her makeup done.

Currently you had made arrangements with Chiron to use the kitchen to bake for a few hours. — Clarisse smiled as you started to playfully wrestle with her having a small flour fight. “Ok ok truce” She chuckled dusting some of the powder off of her. Decided to have the final say however you stood close to clarisse under the assumption that you were going to kiss her. Before your lips connected you placed your thumb on clarisses nose dragging the flour down.

Clarisse rolled her eyes at your actions. “Really? No now you owe me a kiss”

“I don’t owe you anything actually” you laughed trying to playfully fight again clarisse as she tried to kiss you. After a few moments though you gave in letting her have what she wanted.

Placing your arms around her neck you leaned back some letting her have more control over the kiss. Giggling you started to speak teasing remarks against the girls lips “mm, who knew clarisse was such a hopeless romantic”

Clarisse jokingly pushed you away. “Gods your such a pain in my ass”

“Awww your so cute when your mad” you continued to tease her. The timer for the cookies went off, peeling away from clarisse you went to the oven pulling out the chocolate chip cookies.

Taking them off the tray you set them aside onto a cup. Clarisse walked towards you hugging you from behind. Leaning back into your girlfriend you smiled just enjoying the peace of it all.

Being a demigod you were never allowed to have a normal life let alone have a normal relationship. Finding clarisse you believe was the best thing to happen to you. But being a demigod especially a daughter of Aphrodite didn’t come without its own set of critiques.

“What’s wrong” clarisse questioned squeezing your waist softly. Being brought back to reality you turned around to face her, softly smiling at clarisse you leaned kissing her cheek. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it” clarisse looked suspicious but eventually let it go just trusting you.

——

The bondfire continued to be your favorite time of night day after day. Finishing a sing along you kissed clarisses cheek before getting up— heading towards the dining hall for a drink.

Once there you spoke into the goblet saying you wanted your favorite soda, taking a sip you over heard a few girls near by talking.

“I know she’s such a fucking bitch”

“Honestly, like why does clarisse date her, there’s no way that she isn’t desperate, she probably just using her to get to silena”

“Honestly and if I was Aphrodite I would of never claimed such an ugly girl, she doesn’t even deserve to be her daughter”

Your grip on the cup tightened. ForWeeks now you’ve heard the same group of girls talking shit about you. Normally what other people said didn’t matter but them saying you shouldn’t of been claimed by Aphrodite…. That broke the final straw.

Hot tears fell down your face. Holding your head down you silently prayed to stop crying. The emptiness of the dining hall felt even more alone than normal. Maybe they were right. Maybe Aphrodite shouldn’t of claimed you, maybe clarisse really was desperate maybe everything everyone had said really had been true.

“Damn there you are, common the Apollo kids started arguing with the Athena cabin” Clarisse laughed as she walked over. Her hands finding themselves around your waist while she grabbed you from behind.

After a moment she felt your broken yet silent cries. Almost immediately she turned you around, looking down at you with a critical look. “Who.”

“No one, just forget it please” you sniffed. Clarisse however shook her head. “No who made you cry “

You knew she wouldn’t stop until she got what she wanted but in reality all you wanted right now was for her to comfort you. “Please.. just drop it” practically begging her you leaned into Clarisses warm presence.

Without a second thought clarisse Held you close to her. Gently running a hand up and down your back, she squeezed you ever so slightly. “Common, let’s go to my cabin” she muttered.

—

Laying in clarisses bed you silently faced her. Playing with one of her curls you had a soft smile while clarisse Held you close.

Kissing your forehead she pulled back some. “Can you tell me what happened at least.” She asked.

You stayed quiet. You wanted to be honest with her but what if she agreed with what they all said. “Look whatever it is it won’t change a thing about us.. ok” she lifted your head slowly while giving you a gentle look.

“Some girls. They’ve been saying this for weeks but I over heard them talking about how I’m a bitch or something dumb, they said that you were only dating me because you were desperate and wanting to get closer to silena and.. that I should of never been claimed as Aphrodites daughter”

Clarisse Just leaned down placing a kiss on your lips with a soft giggle. “What’s so funny” you muttered against the girl. Pulling away she continued to laugh. “Nothing nothing it’s just.. that? That’s what they decided to run with”

Confused you shrugged your shoulders. The curly haired girl looked over with a sarcastic smile. “Ok first of all, your not a bitch if anything you to nice, then I had to practically beg silena to help me actually start talking to you, then lastly their just mad that one of the most stunning girls in the camp who is also the daughter of Love is dating me and is in a happy relationship. Everything they said just sounds like bullshit” she continued to laugh.

“Your a jerk” you chuckled gently hitting her. “Yeah but your the one dating me so what does that really say about you” she grinned. Moving to sit on her waist playfully wrestling with the girl. You leaned down giving her a soft kiss. Once it broke you heard clarisse start talking. “Don’t let people like those girls ruin nights for you… you have me, and that’s all that should matter not what they have to say.”

Giving you another kiss clarisse patted your thigh. “All right get lost I’m sick of you”

“I hate you”

“No you don’t”

[flowerandblood]

The Impossible Choice (2)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: kissing, angst, sexual tension ]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm's End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

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

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

He didn't want to get married. He didn't want ballast in the form of a woman who would require his constant attention, his tenderness and other feelings that he didn't have.

He didn't even hug his own mother, occasionally letting her touch his hand or shoulder; for physical relaxation, a servant or his own hand was enough for him, as a last resort some pretty maid.

He didn't need a wife in his life. Even if he had an heir, he had nothing to leave behind, knowing that he would not be king or inherit Dragonstone.

He knew that without Vhagar he would be nothing, and the thought made him even angrier.

The idea that his drunken brother, wandering around brothels all night was to become king, and that he, a well-read man, experienced in combat, was to watch him destroy the kingdom and their family.

His father and mother, however, insisted that he eventually fly to Storm's End and make the choice, so that the wedding date could be officially set. He had put it off as long as he could, but the time had come and he had to accept that, whether he wanted it or not, one of Lord Baratheon daughters would be his wife.

He decided that he wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.

When he mounted Vhagar, he prayed for patience, that he would not show his brutality and madness to them even before one of them became his wife.

Vhagar glided through rain and thunder, in the distance he could see the faint outline of Lord Baratheon's stronghold. When he landed on a hill nearby, he was ushered into the great hall by several guards, the whole room lit with torches and large shutters, he heard loud thunder in the distance, shaking the whole castle.

Lord Borros greeted him with a few meaningless sentences that he couldn't concentrate on anyway, his gaze traveled over the faces of his daughters, all of them similarly combed and dressed.

Equally dispassionate, arranged, trained.

He pursed his lips, noticing a frustrating detail that didn't escape his attention.

"I heard, Lord Baratheon, that you couldn't read but I didn't know that you couldn't count either." He said it loudly, coldly, giving him a defiant look, a mischievous smirk on his face that didn't mean that he was pleased at all.

Lord Borros shited restlessly on his lord's throne, swallowing the insult with difficulty, clearly tense, for a moment he didn't know what to say.

“My fifth daughter is too young and inexperienced in the things of life. She wouldn't be…”

"Order to bring her." He commanded, interrupting him mid-sentence, looking around the hall impatiently. Lord Borros motioned to one of the guards, who immediately ran towards the corridor.

He wondered what that might be about.

He didn't believe what the lord was saying, thought that perhaps the girl was defective or disabled and her father wanted to spare her humiliation.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by the voice of one of her sisters, the tallest and most mature of them.

He saw her full breasts and looked away at the memory of the whore that Aegon had taken him to when he was only thirteen, riding him and forcing him to knead her enormous assets with his hands.

“Our sister is not prepared for marriage. Please, spare her this humiliation, my prince." She said with an effort for gentleness, a feigned kindness and concern that her own words belied. He stared at her blankly, wondering if she really thought that she was playing her part well.

"Speaking without permission in front of a prince also does not reflect well on your preparation for marriage, my lady." He snarled in such a way that the girl froze, dropping her eyes quickly, all red with humiliation. He looked away from her when he heard loud footsteps and saw her.

He wondered if she was a servant girl or indeed Lord Baratheon's daughter, her large, bright eyes stared at him in horror, dark, wet locks of her hair sticked to her face in such a way that it looked downright endearing. She was breathing rapidly through her mouth, her fleshy, wet lips parted and quivering.

The contrast between her and her sisters struck him, they, standing like statues, dressed in ornate gowns, looked like goods for sale, she, shivering, warm, terrified, was painfully alive, she had a pretty, gentle face and her curves, though not so full and mature, lacked nothing.

Her father's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

“This is my youngest daughter, my prince. As I said, I felt that she was not properly prepared to fulfill her responsibilities as your wife." Lord Baratheon said carefully.

He wanted to laugh at the helplessness of his words, the fear that he would take away his hidden treasure.

Apparently there was something about her that made him want to keep her for himself, when he was able to give away his other daughters at the same time.

However, he did not show his amusement, keeping straight face, watching her intensely. He felt surprised that his manhood pulsed in his breeches at the thought of her being unable to look away from him, staring shamelessly straight into his eye.

If she had been his, he would have shown her how to behave around a prince, would explain to her in detail what he expected of her, raise her as he saw fit.

"I will decide that, Lord Baratheon. Wasn't that the deal?” He asked coldly, menacingly, only then looking away from her.

Lord Baratheon shifted restlessly on his throne, desperate, he liked the way he looked, writhing helplessly before him.

He approached the first of the sisters, the one who had dared to speak to him unasked. He grabbed her jaw and kissed her, wanting to see how she tasted like, how her body felt.

He knew that he had no right to do this, but no one could stop him.

No one would dare to oppose him.

The girl sighed softly into his lips, opening her mouth invitingly, shamelessly, he pulled away from her as she wanted to put her tongue in his throat, thinking that she was hopelessly desperate.

The other sister when he kissed her pursed her lips in fear, breathing fast. He released her almost immediately, deciding that he didn't need a woman who would run away from him at the sight of him.

The next two sisters didn't impress him either, pretending that his kiss gave them pleasure, that he was the one that they desired.

He knew it wasn't him they wanted, but their idea of him, his position, his title, they wanted to feel like princesses and be treated as such.

He thought that it was one big misunderstanding.

He turned to their youngest sister and saw that she wasn't looking at him, but at the ceiling.

For some reason, that little detail, that she dared not look at him, ignore him, frustrated him.

He walked over to her and grabbed her cheeks in his hand more brutally than he originally intended, forcing her to look at him.

He saw more than fear in her eyes.

He saw begging.

She begged him not to take her with him.

She begged him not to hurt her.

He felt a pleasant shudder at the thought that she had asked him without words, and he could do what he wanted with that request. He stared at her parted, puffy, pink lips, thinking that he at least wanted to taste her, like a sweet, fresh fruit.

He leaned over her but stopped when he felt her draw in a sharp breath, her whole body quivering, her eyes widening in horror. He ran his thumb across her cheek, wanting her to calm down, to let him do what he wanted.

She looked at him again, softer, more dreamly this time, her soft lips parted sweetly, invitingly. He thought that this is what she might look like lying underneath him and felt his manhood throb painfully once again.

He dug into her lips like a sweet nectar and was delighted to feel that she hadn't pressed her lips, allowing him to enjoy the softness of her fleshy, moist skin.

She smelled of some delicate, feminine, sweet oils, rain and sweat, something primal, exciting. Encouraged, he deepened the kiss, wanting to feel her more, the taste of her saliva spreading across his palate like a fruit flesh.

He shivered as she dared to touch him, her hand pressed against his arm as if she wanted to push him away, yet hold him to her, undecided, he wanted to clamp his free hand in her hair and pull her to him, break her resistance, show her how a prince should be treated.

She was sweet and innocent, untainted, like a blank book that he could fill out as he pleased. He thought that he wanted her eyes, her lips, her hands, her pleas, her tears for himself.

She could give him what he really desired.

He pulled away from her, staring at her flushed, embarrassed face and saw that she looked away from him again.

He decided that when she arrived at King's Landing, this would be where they would start.

That she would never look away when he was standing in front of her.

"Her." He spoke impassively, coldly, decisively.

He felt with satisfaction how a shudder went through her body, how she immediately looked to her father to seek his help and thought, amused, that her father wouldn't help her.

He released her, turning tensely, heading for the main entrance, hearing Lord Baratheon mumble something under his breath, it took all his strength not to laugh in his face.

"I've already made my decision." He spoke loudly, matter-of-factly, as he left the hall.

He made his way to where Vhagar was resting, the storm unleashing around them in earnest, the downpour making him barely able to see anything.

He had not thought flying to Storm's End that he would feel such savage satisfaction returning to King's Landing.

He wanted this girl.

He wanted her for himself.

He wanted her terrified eyes, her untamedness, her softness, her sweetness.

He felt like a finished man, deep down he felt and knew who he was.

A monster inside and out.

All his life he had to take what was due to him by force. He knew that it was the only way − to snatch something from the gods against their will, tip the scales in his favor.

He knew that it would be the same with her, that she will not give him anything from her own free will and everything he would get from her would come from her fear and his superiority, his status, which forced her to submit.

What aroused him the most was knowledge that she wouldn't make this easy for him, that she would fight him, but he would win, he would always win, always his word will be the last, his will will be above hers, every time she will have to humble herself, agree with him, obey him, her husband.

He flew on Vhagar through thunder and rain, sinking into darkness, closing his eye, throwing his head back, soaring into the abyss.

Upon returning to the Red Keep, he informed his mother and father of his choice, but gave them no details.

He wasn't going to explain himself.

He did what he had to do.

When his mother announced to him that a date of their nuptials had been set, he no longer felt the frustration and rage that accompanied him before he chose his future wife and was surprised to find that he was getting impatient now.

He wondered if she was very distressed, did she cry because of him every day, did she think about their wedding night.

He thought of her every evening, as he relieved himself with his hand.

About the fact that he will be able to touch her everywhere.

That her body will belong only to him.

Her every look, sigh, moan.

The thought that she was a maiden made him thirsty even more.

The fact that he will show her everything, that he will open the door for her, the door to the pleasure of her own body − if only she will be obedient and polite.

He squeezed his eye shut at the thought, drifting off into his own fantasy world, involuntarily sliding his hand down to the material of his breeches, untying them.

When his mother informed him that Lady Baratheon would be arriving in King's Landing in a few days, he could barely suppress a smirk of satisfaction from her. The truth was that he was growing impatient, wanting to have her with him now to see what he could do with her.

He wasn't sure if he'd be able to keep his hands to himself until their wedding and thought that nothing bad would have happened if he had taken her sooner.

She was going to be his wife anyway.

On the day of her arrival he had fought hard with himself and with the temptation to welcome her with Ser Criston on the port, however, he gave up on this idea.

He didn't want her to think that he had any kind of affection for her, that she can soften him, change him, put him in order like a dog.

No, he thought, he would never allow that.

He waited in his mother-queen's chamber for her arrival, his heart pounding hard in anticipation.

He wondered would she look even more beautiful in a gown like the one her sisters were wearing, all pale, scared, sweet.

His.

He shuddered and twisted in his chair, crossing his legs as their servant entered the chamber, bowing low, not daring to look at them.

"Your Grace, Lady Baratheon has arrived."

_____

Thank you for such a warm welcome to the first part. 💖

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @diosademuerte @rwdkarla @echos-muses @slainey @letmeloveyouuuu

Others: @dreamymoomin @thedamewithabook @dc-marvel-girl96 @zillahvathek @helaenaluvr @tssf-imagines

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Seven Days to Fall Again | Thursday | Jeon Jungkook

Inspired by the MV "Seven" by Jung Kook ft. Latto (obvi lol) Summary: Flowers for my love. Jungkook is trying absolutely everything he can to get you back. No matter how ridiculous it might seem. Pairing: Reader x Jungkook (almost exes to lovers lol) Word Count: 3.2k (longer one this time lol) a/n: So I haven't posted anything for this series in almost a month so I'm really really sorry for that. I have so many other series going at this point that it's taken me a second to come back around and write for this one again. This one is a little bit longer to hopefully make up for it. Let me know what you think! p.s. Pretty much wrote all of this is one night so I hope it's not complete crap but I thought it was cute hehe Start from the beginning

Jungkook's visit yesterday threw me for a loop to say the least. 

I've tried to do everything in my power to make sure it doesn't get to me but no matter how many pep talks I give myself or how many times I've tried to scold myself instead, nothing works. 

I miss him, and I hate myself because of that. 

I've been able to go through my morning and most of my afternoon with radio silence from him which has been incredible for my stress levels but I can't help but feel his absence more and more as time goes by.

He was hardly ever around for the last few months of our relationship so I don't know why his presence; which I had specifically chose not to have around now almost feels more painful. 

"Maybe I just need a walk" I say out loud "Yeah a walk and some fresh air should clear everything up" I continue, trying to lie to myself in thinking that some sunshine might actually fix this. 

Walking out of my apartment and heading straight to the subway I make a decision to go to a little cafe that I used to go to with my classmates. It's been a while since I've been there and their strawberry crepes were to die for from what I remember so I think it's time I treated myself to something nice.

~~~~~~~

Leaving the station I notice a big crowd starting to  gather around and I get a glimpse of what they're all staring at, seeing that it's some guy getting picked up off the ground and rolled out on a gurney. 

Taking a closer look, believing that I somehow know them, I feel the need to make sure they're okay but I'm stopped by the police tape they've put up. 

Once the guy's head turns towards me my eyes widen in horror seeing that it's Jungkook. "Wait! Wait! Jungkook! Wait that's my boyfriend!" I say and duck under the yellow tape not bothering to worry about the repercussions. 

When he hears my voice and opens his eyes and I see them quickly change from seeming like he had been on the edge of life and death into his big doe ones, sending me a bright smile, showing zero sighs of distress anymore and leaves me stopping in my tracks.

"CUT" I hear someone shout in the distance. "Who is this girl and why is she on my set?" the same voice say as they gradually get closer. 

"No one" I say, crossing my arms over my chest and see Jungkook give me an awkward smile in response. I scoff and don't bother listening to no doubt the director trying to speak to me and from the small bits I catch onto it sounds almost as if he wanted me to complete the scene. 

"Not interested" I mumble and walk off, ignoring their efforts to keep me there. "Baby wait!" I hear Jungkook say as he struggles to get the belt they had fastened off of him. 

I don't even bother responding and continue to make my way down the street to the cafe, praying that he won't follow me but it seems as though the universe is laughing at me because despite the growing crowd around us he still is able to keep his eyes on me. 

"Y/n wait! Please!" he yells, making sure that there's no way possible that I couldn't hear him but I choose to ignore him nonetheless. "Please Noona wait!" he continues, using a word that he knows will get a reaction out of me and my steps stutter for a second but I regain my balance seamlessly and pick up the pace seconds after. 

"Excuse me, sorry. Excuse me, thank you" I hear him say, continuing to use that loud voice letting me know that he's still on my tail but as soon as I get to a crosswalk I start to walk a bit faster, hoping to cut him off and lose him when he hopefully gets stuck waiting for the next light and luckily this time it works. 

I take a quick glance behind me to check and see him standing there catching my gaze and turning to a flower vender beside him and buying a bouquet of sunflowers, my favorite flowers during this time of year and I know he didn't just get them randomly because no matter how much I think he doesn't pay attention or care about our relationship I know he makes sure he knows the little things about me.

And that's one of the things that makes me want to take him back. 

"Y/n wait! Please" he yells and I turn around just in time to see him decide to take a risk and cross the street without waiting for the light and seconds later I hear the sound of tires screeching on the pavement and see Jungkook duck out of view. 

"Jungkook" I whisper, stopping dead in my tracks, my body totally frozen at the thought that he might've gotten hit. 

Moments later though I see the sunflowers resurface above the crowd and his head soon after that and I watch the exchange between him and the driver and then soon see him turning back to me and abandoning the conversation to start running after me again. 

"Wait!" he says and I turn on my heel to keep going, hating the fact that I've already lost the distance I had gained between us. 

I duck into a random shop in hopes that he'll somehow lose sight of me and walk right past it, losing me and hopefully letting me resume my intended relaxing day to myself. I'll just stop by the bakery instead and make my way home so I can head in the opposite way of what he probably had expected me to be going in. 

As I hear the shopkeeper welcome me I quickly return their greeting and hide behind one of their shelves, picking up a random book and holding it up to my face. Making sure it's open and covering me just enough for him not to notice, but also giving me enough visual to see him pass by and continue his search in the opposite way, just as I had planned. 

I watch as he walks past the store, frantically turning his head in all directions to see if he could finally catch sight of me again and to my delight he continues on the path he had seen me on a few minutes before. 

I let out a deep breath at the sight and put the book down, finally gaining some of that peace of mind. 

"Were you looking for anything specific dear?" the older shopkeeper asks. "No not really, I was just trying to lose my tail" I say pointing towards the window. "My ex boyfriend has been trying to get me back and he won't stop trying to talk to me so we can 'Talk things out' or whatever" I say, letting out a huge sigh, happy to get a chance to talk to someone at least a little bit. 

"Well have you given him a chance to say his piece yet?" she questions, leaving me shocked, expecting her to side with me. "Well...no, but we've gone through these sorts of problems before and I just don't want him to say something that will convince me to give him another chance again" I say, walking towards her and leaning on a shelf nearby. 

She takes a second to think before responding and says something that I was hoping she wouldn't. "You need to give him a chance to at least say something. Everyone deserves closure don't you think?" she says with a soft smile, hoping to get through to me. "Unless he's violent or something of that sort. Then he can go fuck himself" she says with a grin, already knowing that's not the case. 

I open and close my mouth a bit, not really knowing how to respond and she laughs at my reaction, loving how much she's caught me off guard. "He was the young man that just passed by with those sunflowers wasn't he?" she says with a knowing smile. "How did you-" I start out but she cuts me off with another laugh. 

"That boy had the most adorable panicked look, searching here and there as if he had lost his owner. He's quite handsome if you ask me" she say winking at me and making me blush a bit at her straightforward nature. "Give him a chance love. And if you let him go, then you let him go. Trust me, you don't want to deal with the what ifs if he stops trying" she says giving me a soft smile. 

I know she's right and I know I should at least hear him out but at this point I think it's something I've gotta work my way up to. His all or nothing attitude right now is just too much for me. 

"You're right. I'll take some time and when I'm ready I'll sit down with him to talk it all out. Thank you. Oh I'm sorry I should probably get out of your hair. Uh" I stammer at the end, feeling guilty for taking up so much of her time. 

"Um here, can I buy this?" I ask, placing a little bear with a lavender flower embroidered on it's collar on the counter, grabbing the first thing I laid eyes on. It can't be more than four inches tall with it's cute round belly and a little sun hat on it with the ears sticking through it. 

"Keep it" she say, not even bothering to offer room for discussion as she walks away from the counter. "It's full of lavender petals so keep it close and the smell will help calm you down whenever you need it. You might even want to hold it close when you're talking to that boyfriend of yours" she says with a wink and walks to the back of the store, disappearing behind a shelf, leaving me alone with my thoughts. 

I pull out my wallet and put a five dollar bill in the tip jar and take a second glance at the bear and hold it up close to my face, breathing in it's sweet and slightly musky fragrance. I smile down at it's cute little face and put it in my purse. 'I've never been in this bookstore before' I think to myself, now finally taking a second to check out the rest of the interior beyond the immediate storefront. 

I make it a note to come back here one day and return her kindness by bringing something for her to repay her not only for the bear but also for her hospitality and advice.

I take one last glance around and turn to make my way out. 

"You certainly took your time in there" I hear a familiar voice say beside me, leaving me holding my breath for a second at the scare. "Jungkook" I say placing my hand over my chest before using that same hand seconds later to wack his arm making him drop the flowers he had started to hold out for me to take. 

"Hey! What was that for?" he whines, rubbing his arm for a few seconds and picking them back up. "That's for not only scaring me just now, but also scarring me earlier today with that stupid ambulance nonsense" I say throwing my arm out towards what I now know as being a stupid movie set and when I turn back to face him all I can see is a big grin on his face. 

"Why are you smiling at me like that?" I question crossing my arms over my chest. "You know you called me your boyfriend back there right?" he says, his smile growing even wider. I scoff at the memory and don't even dignify his words with a response, turning and making my way back to the bakery just as I had intended as my plan B.

"Wait Noona please" he says and places a light grip on my arm. "What?" I spit out, turning to face him again, a look of displeasure on my face which somehow makes him smile even wider. "Can I at least walk you home?" he asks, poised in anticipation. 

Now that the shop keeper had equated him to a dog I can't help but notice how much he's been giving off golden retriever energy these past few days. Excited and begging for my attention no matter what I say.

"I'm not going home" I say pulling my arm out of his grasp but he grabs onto my hand this time instead, making me stop again, knowing that as much as I want to, I'm probably not going to get my way this time. "Can I walk you to wherever you're going then?" he questions, now completing the look with his puppy dog eyes that pull on my heartstrings every time.

"Fine" I say and he happily catches up to me after deciding to hand the flowers off to some guy and his girlfriend, knowing for a fact that I won't take them. For a second I don't even realize that he had decided to hold my hand again until he sways them back and forth a bit making me rip mine out of his grasp and opting to cross my arms over my chest instead, leaving it hard for him to try to grab onto me again. 

~~~~~~

Walking up to the bakery a few minutes later I stop and face him for a second hoping to shoo him away. "Okay, you can leave now" I say and take a few steps but I still feel his presence close behind me. "Why are you following me?" I ask turning around again, not amused at the fact that he's not listening to me. 

"Who said I was following you? I wanted to get something from here too! You know I like the chocolate donuts here, remember?" he says giving me a soft smile. "Fine" I mumble and reach for the door handle but before I can his hand reaches for it and opens it for me. I spare him a glare and he sends me a sweet bunny smile in return making me roll my eyes in response. 

I walk in and when he tries to do the same he notices a group of older woman making their way out and he waits to hold it open for them as well and I can't help but roll my eyes again, watching him continue to play the sweet loving gentlemen. They smile and thank him a few times in return which he responds with a smile and once they're finally out he heads inside intending to stand next to me in line but is cut off by a few people between us leaving me smiling in victory but it doesn't last long. 

"Excuse me sorry do you mind? I'm with her" he says pointing towards me leaving me widening my gaze and turning around but not fast enough for the others to notice if he's lying or not. "Yeah, sure" one of the guys says and they step aside and let him walk up to me but in the process of squeezing through he stumbles and falls into me a little bit, leaving him latching onto me, pressing me up against the wall I had been leaning against. 

"S-sorry Noona" he apologizes, ears turning red clearly embarrassed at our current position. "It's fine" I grumble and push him off of me, creating some much needed space and walking up to the counter where they're waiting for the next customer. 

"Hi can I get a raspberry donut and a ham and cheese croissant? Thanks" I say and the worker looks over at Jungkook as he is standing next to me and waits for his order. "Oh we're not, we're not together" I say tripping over my words, this being the first time I've said that in front of someone while he's standing right next to me. 

The worker looks between us and draws what I can assume is a line under my order that she's written down and then asks for Jungkook's which he orders just what he had said before, a chocolate donut. 

"Thank you" he says warmly and the worker looks between the two of us, not believing my words from before but smiles almost amused by our situation and tells us our orders will be right out before handing the paper over to the cashier where she gives me my total. 

Before I'm even able to reach for my card though I see Jungkook place his phone on the card reader to pay. 

"Hey!" I say in protest while Jungkook tells her to ring him up again for his donut as well. I decide it's useless arguing with him in public and walk off to the side to wait for our food. "I can pay for my own food" I grumble as he walks up to me. "I know, but I wanted to" he says simply and we wait in silence until they hand us our bags. 

"So where are you going now?" he asks, holding the door open for me again and jogging after me, having to hold the door for the next person again. "Home" I say and make my way to the subway entrance. "Can I walk you home?" he asks, already knowing the answer but trying anyway. 

"No Jungkook. You can't. You asked if you could walk me to wherever I was going next but that isn't an invitation to follow me around for the rest of the day. Just leave me alone." I say, the last part not as confident as the rest. "I just want to make sure you get back safely" he offers and at that my blood starts boiling. 

"I'm more that capable of taking care of myself! I don't need you to babysit me because last time I checked I was the one that was older than you" spit out at him, pressing a finger on his chest. Getting more and more irritated with every breath and watch as his eyes get wide, surprised by my sudden hostile nature. 

"I'm s-sorry I didn't think tha-" "And that's exactly what your problem is. You don't think about what I want or even what I don't want. Now will you please leave me alone? I don't want to deal with this today and I don't want you to follow me" I say, punctuating my words so it'll get through his thick skull. 

He opens his mouth to respond but I cut him off again before he makes me even more upset. "Don't" I say and walk away, throwing my food away in the nearest trashcan and descend down the step into the subway station, hoping and praying he doesn't follow me. 

This time around though the universe smiles down at me, granting my wishes but leaves behind a broken and beaten down Jungkook, truly trying to figure out how everything went so wrong. 

Wednesday / Friday Series Masterlist

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[youandiwerealive]

Praying that the blood doesn’t stain [rd]

Author’s note: I cried so much while writing this one, I don’t even know what to say to you, girls, this broke my heart. Thank you to the anon who requested insecure dad!Rúben, sorry this took such a huge turn 😭 Hope you somehow enjoy this!

Warnings: there’s mentions of death and blood in this one ‼️

wc: 2107 - English is not my first language! Feedback is always appreciated

There’s no biggest joy in Rúben’s life than his family. You and your daughter, Matilde, really are the light of his eyes. The little girl has him wrapped around her tiny finger, he could never say no her.

“Daddy, can I paint your nails pink?” - the 4 year old would ask him in her cute voice.

“You want to paint my nails, Mati? Of course, but choose a pretty shade of pink that matches daddy’s game shirt, okay?” - he would say to her in a soft voice, always smiling at his baby.

Matilde would do everything with his dad. Anywhere Rúben went, Matilde was there too, always tightly held at his hip, or taking her slow baby steps towards her daddy’s direction.

And Rúben couldn’t stop thanking God, the stars, destiny, whatever put you in his way: the love of his life that made him a dad, the most important role of his life. Nothing could top the importance that you and Matilde had in Rúben’s life, he would always put his girls first. He never felt so happy, with his daughter on his lap and his wife by his side, living in your indestructible bubble of love.

But it all changed two years ago. Rúben will never forget that fateful afternoon, he was having a tea party with your baby, when he got the call from the hospital. A drunk driver hit your car while you were on your way home, making Rúben losing his other half, forever. The news hitting him like a shot in the chest, straight to the heart.

He will never recover from your absence, leaving him to raise the light of your lives all by himself. Matilde is now six years old, she has already started school, now learning how to draw her first letters. Rúben still cries himself to sleep every single night, thinking about you, about how unfair fate was to both of you. You just had your baby, Matilde was only four years old when she lost his mother.

He misses you so fucking much, and your daughter does too. Rúben finds it incredible how Matilde remembers so much of you, always remembering things that you used to say to her, plays and jokes that you had with her. Rúben secretly believes that you talk to her in her dreams, because it’s like she has you always by her side.

Rúben tries his best to not break down in front of your child, especially when she asks about you. It’s been tough for Rúben to be a single dad, missing your support, the way you always seemed to make every thing right. He never looked at another woman again, his eyes and heart belonging to his daughter only - as well as to you, forever. He still wears his wedding ring, never taking it off. He hates the fact that life didn’t allowed him to say goodbye to you, to give you one last kiss. The last time he told you he loved you was over the phone, while you informed him that you were on your way home. Him and Mati cheekily saying “we love youuuu”, over the phone, while Rúben would pretend to drink a cup of tea, wearing a tiara on his head and sitting besides Berny - the bunny, and Johnny - the bear, named after Bernardo and John Stones, Rúben’s friends and Mati’s uncles.

His friends and family never left his side, they notice that Rúben has never been the same again after what happened, everybody knows it.

Matilde is the only thing that can make him smile, making him feel alive as he teaches her how to write her name, paints ballerinas and flowers with her, cooks for her and teaches her how vegetables and fruits are important for her health. Rúben’s life mission is educating his girl in the best possible way he can, be by her side at all times and protect her from every one and every thing.

Every time Rúben looks at his daughter, his heart stings a little, she looks so much like you now. She has your eyes, your smile. At the same time, there’s nothing that he loves more than looking at his baby, resembling the love of his life so much, like you’re still with them.

He can’t do his daughter’s hair as pretty as you could, but Matilde is a gentle and caring girl, she always has a smile on her face and a compliment to give to her dad. “I love my ponytails daddy, you did great” - she would always notice every morning after Rúben would neatly comb her hair, using her favourite pink hair clips with butterflies on them.

She would thank him with a gentle kiss on his cheek, his favourite feeling in the world being the love of your daughter, the way she would tightly wrap her tiny arms around his neck when he would pick her up, how she would hold his hand while walking in the street, her loving kisses on her father’s face, and the way she laughs when his beard tickles her.

When Matilde is at school and Rúben founds himself alone, he lets his thoughts take advantage of him. You are always on his mind, there’s not a second when he isn’t thinking about you. But when nobody is watching, he cries his heart out, still questioning life about the reason why they took you away from him. He often goes to the cemetery, to talk to you, to tell you everything about Matilde - even though he knows you’re always watching over her, protecting your baby. He drops kisses on your grave, whispering how much he loves you, how much he misses you. And how badly he needs you more and more as time goes by. Matilde is getting bigger and she needed her mother too.

After he picks her up from school, Rúben is cooking dinner for the both of them, while his daughter is playing in the garden. He gets lost in his thoughts, unable to stop himself to think how the house is silent without you in it, how life was never the same.

His daughter’s cry takes him out of his trance. He immediately goes to search her outside, Matilde already running to meet her dad. Rúben’s heart breaks at the sight: his baby’s face is wet from all the tears, and her noise and chin are running blood.

Rúben immediately picks her up and rushes to the bathroom, sitting his daughter on the counter, while he tries to clean up her wounds. The little girl hisses and whimpers in pain, poor child fell while playing on the rocks - bruising her knees too. Rúben stops the bleeding and decorates his girl’s wounds with pink band-aids that have hearts in them. Those make Matilde smile a little bit, as she stretches her arms to hug his dad. Rúben holds her tightly, the girl hiding her sad face on his dad’s neck. He kisses her head non-stop, now lying in bed with his daughter still in his chest.

Matilde sleeps in Rúben’s bed now. It’s been like this since you passed away, he feels like he can’t sleep alone anymore - his nightmares about your accident chasing him every night.

The two of them stay silent as Rúben is still leaving kisses on his precious baby and stroking her back carefully. All of the sudden, there’s a little sound.

“Daddy?” - Matilde asks quietly, her voice sounding muffled from her face still being hidden on her dad’s neck.

“Yes, amor?” - Matilde knows a lot of portuguese now, understanding all the pet names and the lectures her father gives her sometimes.

“I miss mommy” - she admits with a little cry escaping her eyes.

Rúben closes his eyes and sighs. “I know, baby. I miss her too” - he admits to his daughter, his voice threatening to fail as well.

“Do you still love her, even though she’s not here with us?” - the little girl questions, her big brown eyes now looking up at his father, who kissed her forehead before speaking.

“Of course I do, filha. Have you stopped loving mommy?” - he asks her back and smiles when the girl firmly shakes her head ‘no’.

“You see, mommy is not physically here with us, but she’s always around. She’s always inside of us, here” - he points at the where his heart is located.

“In our hearts?” - Matilde confirms the place.

“In our hearts, baby. You know the necklace you wear every single day, since you were little?” - Rúben references the silver necklace that has a butterfly, a flower and the letter ‘M’ engraved on a plate in a round shape. You bought it and personalised it to gift it to your daughter.

The initial letter of her name, the butterfly - to let her know that she can always rebirth and become the best version of herself, and a flower - a tulip, to be more specific. The tulip is the flower that represent the perfect love, and you put it on her necklace so she can always remember that she is fruit of a gigantic and true love, yours and Rúben’s, and his mission is to teach her how to never set for anything less than the love his parents shared, that got her into his world.

“My necklace, yes” - the girl answers while her hand instinctively reaches to touch it.

“Mommy gave it to you, and while you have it on, she’s always looking down at you and protecting you. That’s why you can never take it off, Mati” - her father explained.

The girl just smiled at his father, and hugged him tightly, knowing that he is all that she has, but feeling in her heart that her mother is always by her side.

That night, while Matilde was peacefully sleeping in his chest, Rúben couldn’t fall asleep, no matter how hard he tried.

His mind was rushing from the previous events - remembering her face full of tears and blood, the conversation about you. Rúben can’t help but doubt himself as a father - it happens more often that he would like to.

It’s been two years, but he’s still discovering how to be a solo father, an adventure that he had to take on with his daughter - not really having a choice. And sometimes he can’t help but doubt his ‘daddy abilities’ - fighting himself for not being attentive enough to protect Matilde from hurting herself on those damn rocks. That’s his job, for fucks sake. He needs to pay full attention to his baby, to prevent this type of things from happening. He would never forgive himself if something happened to the light of his life.

He misses you, your advices. He misses your mom side, you were the perfect mother to Matilde, and he can’t help but imagine how would life be if you were still here with them. Matilde has a lot of your personality, she is extroverted, funny, smiley and bubbly - just like you were. There’s times where she gives Rúben some sassy answers, leaving him speechless, having an attitude just like yours. He looks at pictures of you two, when you started dating, and some pictures already after Matilde was born. He knows that the blood on Matilde’s wounds won’t stain her clothes, but the blood surrounding your loss will forever stain his heart, his mind, his life.

Life without you doesn’t seem worthy of living most of the times to him, but his baby is the only thing pushing him from the ground. She’s his partner in life now, filling his heart with love and laugh when all he wants to do is cry.

The moments when they sing in the car on their way to school, when Matilde makes Rúben dance like a proper ballerina - making him wear a pink tutu and all, make his life worth living. His baby’s laugh means the world to him, gives him strength and hope in a brighter future.

He wishes you were here with him, reassuring him that everything was going to be okay. But, the way your daughter starts stirring in her sleep, and holds herself tightly to him for comfort and protection, already looks like a sign to him. He’s a good dad, and he and Mati will never be alone, since they have the most beautiful and bright star looking down at them, protecting and guiding them - forever.

[xdaddysprincessxx]

Say your prayers little girl

Vampire Priest Joel Miller x f!stripper reader

Warnings: Dark fic/Dead Dove, non/dubcon (non bc he uses his powers on her taking away her consent but she does want it), religious theme, p in v (wrap ya dick kids), vampirism, blood, neck biting, mentions of sex work, oral (f receiving), dark fluff?? (The ending ended up softer than I intended), squirting, I believe that’s it!

Summary: Working in the adult industry tends to leave a bad taste in people’s mouth when they find out about your job. Growing up the church has been the only place you’ve been able to find solace and that’s where you seek solace now.

A/n: So I have no experience fucking vampiric priests but I do have religious trauma and a deep seeded need to fuck creatures of the night. Lightly edited, not beta’d, all mistakes are mine! Enjoy!(:

(Mood board made by moi 😇)

Living in LA is nothing like you imagined. Growing up in the Midwest, you moved out here for a fresh start with the hopes and dreams of becoming a movie star. Those hopes and dreams were dashed rather quickly when you struggled to find acting jobs and instead had to resort to working at a high end gentleman’s club. If you were being honest you did enjoy working at the club. You liked the attention, you liked the other dancers but most of all the money. However outside of the club it seemed as though everyone knew what you did for a living and despised you for it. Never in your life have you felt so judged by every passing face. You purposely wear an extra large hoodie with the hood up and sweat pants on just to go to the grocery store.

After working at the club for a few months, one night, around 3am, you were just getting off work. It was a chilly early Sunday morning, the streets covered in fog. Normally you drive to and from work but this particular night you didn’t have your car since it broke down on you a few nights ago. Walking the few blocks to your apartment you just happened to glance down the street you were crossing and saw a church sitting on the corner. Having only lived in the area for a few months, you hadn’t really explored it. Noticing the church doors were open, you decided to walk down to the church and take a peek inside. You grew up in the church. Your family went every sunday, your mom was the Sunday school teacher and your father and brothers regularly volunteered to help be alter boys or set up for fundraisers or whatever else the church needed. You always struggled with what they taught and stood for. If God is the one and only that you should worship why are we praying to all of these patron saints? If God answers prayers why isn’t he answering the prayers of those starving? Of those that are abused or dying from illness? Why does Debra from Mississippi who is judgmental and mean to others get her prayers of a fancy new car get answered but not little Susie who prays she gets taken away from her abusive father? At a rather young age, you struggled immensely with your faith and beliefs but you always found the church to be a place of comfort.

Approaching the front doors you notice some lights were on and someone was playing the organ. You slowly walked up the steps and went through the doors. As you walked in, there were pews on either side, a few random stragglers scattered all over and in front was an alter of Mary surrounded by lit candles and flowers laid at her feet. You passed the first two pews, choosing to stand in the back and just observe. You could hear someone quietly crying and sniffling, a couple of others whispering the rosary and before you know it you can hear soft footsteps behind you.

The sound of a man clearing his throat comes from behind you, making you jump and turn around.

“Well hello there. And who might you be?” says the priest with a smile.

Putting your hand over your fast beating heart, “Oh hi I’m so sorry Father. I saw the doors were open and I couldn’t help myself. I’ve always found comfort in the church.” You tell him as you introduce yourself.

“It’s very nice to meet you sweetheart, I’m Father Joel. Unfortunately we are about to close for the day. You see we like to keep rather strange hours for those who seek out the lord when others are usually in bed. But we will open back up at 10 o’clock tonight if you would like to come back.” He says sweetly as he touches your arm. You can’t help but have this overwhelming feeling of calm. You feel safe and wanted? Your not sure if wanted is the right word but it’s the closest to what you feel. The two of you smile at each other as the priest lifts open his other arm as a guide for you to go back out the doors you entered. You cast your eyes down as you walk back out into the early morning fog. Before you go to step down you turn back around only to be greeted by closed doors.

Hmm that’s weird. You didn’t hear the doors shut. In fact you didn’t hear anything nor did you see the other people leave. Confused as to what just happened you continue on your way back home.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

It’s been six months since you first discovered the church. You try to go as often as you can finding comfort not only in the church but with Father Joel as well. It didn’t take long for him to catch on to what you did for a living. But he never made you feel bad for it. In fact he seemed to be proud of you. One night you were on stage at work and you swore you saw his face in the crowd. That same night you found an envelope in your locker stuffed with money. Five thousand dollars to be exact. But today you decided to take the night off and go spend time at the church. The real reason why you liked to spend so much time there was Father Joel. You couldn’t help but be attracted to him. He had these beautiful brown eyes, fluffy curls on top of his head, the sweetest smile he seemed to save just for you. Oh and his smell! He had this scent to him, a clean yet woodsy scent that never failed to travel from your nose directly to your cunt. Ever since you’ve met him, you’ve been having these dreams of Father Joel. In these dreams you usually run into him in random places, sometimes it’s your house other times it’s a trail in a park you find yourself walking on. But every time he always gives you this look, a rather creepy smile and his eyes change color making him look evil before he dips his head down and kisses your throat. Always leaving kisses on your throat, kissing up your neck, nibbling on your ear sending the most delicious chills up your spine. You always feel this mix of being scared of him and also needing him so bad you might explode if he doesn’t touch you. Most of the dreams are just that. Running into Father Joel, him kissing your throat and neck and then you wake up. However lately the dreams have gone further. He’s started kissing your lips, you swear it feels as though he is actually pushing his tongue into your mouth and he’ll undress you leaving you naked and vulnerable. All for him he’d say as his eyes scan your body much like a predator would size up its prey. In your dream last night it was the same thing except this time after Father Joel undressed you he pulled his cock out, turned you around and pushed his cock in in one thrust. It felt so real you almost forgot it was a dream. He thrusted only a few times before you woke up only to be laying on a wet spot. As you jumped up off the bed, you gave it a quick sniff to make sure you didn’t pee. And sure enough it wasn’t pee. You must have been so turned on from your dream that your juices leaked out of your panties and left a little spot on your sheets.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

It’s already 11 o’clock at night when you make your way to the church. Wearing your favorite black dress with cap sleeves that hang off the shoulder and the bottom hits a little above your knees, you already feel better as you come into view of your sanctuary. Walking right in you immediately run into Father Joel hitting him square in the chest.

“Woah there little one. Not so fast now” he chuckles as he helps you straighten yourself back up. His hands holding your biceps as he stills and just stares at you.

“Father Joel I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there!” You say breathlessly with a chuckle. Your smile almost wiped clean off your face when you see the way he’s looking at you. His eyes. . .

Almost in a flash his eyes go back to their normal brown shade and he smiles at you again.

“You look beautiful tonight. Go on go find a seat in the front row. I’ll be in there soon.” Father Joel tells you. As if by magic you quickly walk to the front pew and sit down. You body moved automatically as if you had no say in your body at all.

Folding your hands in your lap, you look straight ahead at the alter of Mary. Her statue looks as if she’s looking down at you with a soft,caring look on her face. A look that’s almost as if she feels sorry for you.

Soon enough you feel Father Joel’s presence next to you. However you’re stuck. Frantically moving your eyes all around, You realize you can’t move your neck or your arms or any part of your body. Starting to feel scared, your stuck sitting down, facing forward with your hands in your lap. That’s when you feel Father Joel’s hand land on your thigh.

“You know sweetheart it’s not appropriate to wear pretty little dresses like this to church.” Comes his husky low voice whispering in your ear, “especially at night all alone.” His hand starts to slowly move up your thigh, pushing your dress up.

Gasping as if you’re just now able to catch your breath, you can feel your body and your able to move again. You barely move your head to the left when you felt his face on yours. His nose brushes your cheek and you can feel his warm breath on your face. His lips almost touching your cheek.

“You never know who or what you’ll run into sweetheart.” He says as he continues to push up your dress, his thumb rubbing your thigh. Soon your dress is pushed all the way up, exposing your black panties underneath.

“Oh sweetheart,” he says tsking, “you’re wet. Don’t you know lust is a sin baby?” Father Joel said in a very low, hushed tone. He took his finger and rubbed up your clothed slit making you notice the wet spot on your panties.

Sucking his teeth he makes a disappointing noise,

“F-fa-father Joel w-what are you doing? I- we we can’t do this! Y-you’re a priest.” You hurriedly whispered to him. In your head you wanted him to touch you, you wanted your dreams to come true but you also knew he took vows as a priest. There was no way he could ever have relations with you. Not in the way you wanted.

“Oh sweetheart don’t be so naive,” he says as he nips at your neck, “I never said I was a good man. I never said I was a man at all.”

Terrified at the last thing he just said, you turn to face him and that’s when you see his pupils have gone black and his lips pushed back, exposing fangs.

You gasp, eyes go wide as you take in the sight of a man you thought you knew.

“Now get on your knees and pray.” He demands.

Your body obeys his demands as you sink to your knees and you bend forward, resting on your forearms, clasping your hands together as your bow your head in prayer.

You happen to glance up at the statue of Mary and she’s crying tears of blood! The flames of the candles seem to be flickering even higher and you notice there’s no other noise, no music, no murmurs. You feel Father Joel kneel behind you, his big hands gripping your hips and bringing your ass to meet his crotch.

“Mm you’re such a good, obedient little one,” Joel croons as he grabs your hair and pulls you up so your back is touching his chest, “Don’t worry baby you’ll like this next part.” Smirking, he whispers in your ear before opening his mouth and biting down on your neck just below your ear.

Your mouth drops open in a silent scream, the searing pain you feel from the bite. Tears start to fall down your face, you’ve never felt a worse pain than this. The pain seems to get worse, you can feel him sucking the area he just bit. All too soon you feel your energy drain.

Licking his lips, “Mm you have the sweetest taste my little one. You’re mine now. Your blood is mine, your body is mine.” He says in a hushed tone as he begins to lick your wound, laying chaste kisses on and around it as he goes. As weak as you are, you can’t help but feel these licks and kisses, it’s almost as if they’re in high definition. In fact all your senses feel sharper, more defined. Joel brings his wrist up to his mouth slicing open his wrist on a fang.

“Open wide my little one, I need you to drink the body and blood of your savior.” Joel says as he lifts his bleeding wrist to your open mouth. You suddenly find yourself extremely thirsty, your throat burning. When he offers his wrist, you suck down every drop greedily.

“Mm ooohh yes just like that baby drink every drop.” He moans out loud. Hearing him moan as you drink from him turns you on. Makes you want to do more to cause him to make those sounds.

Your face is covered in blood just like Father Joel’s as he pulls his wrist from your mouth and shoves your head down, forcing you back into a bow.

"Give your body to me now, let your savior in little one." Joel grunts out as he let's go of the back of your head and reaches down to pull your panties down. They drop around your knees, your hands go to clasp in prayer again as you feel him pull his cock out and rub it up and down your soaked folds.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned, my cunt craves your cock Father. Please fuck me. Use my body, it's yours." You confess to him. This man, this creature, whoever and whatever he is; you want him. Your very soul now craves him.

Grunting, Joel slowly dips the head of his cock in your entrance, just barely giving you the tip before he pulls back and dips back in, giving you a little at a time. After a few teases, he pulls out and thrusts his cock in in one swift motion, filling you like no one has ever filled you. He begins to pump his cock in and out, you can feel your walls stretching just to try and accommodate his length.

"Ooohhgg nnggg yes father!! Oh fuck me! Fuck my cunt father!" You moan loudly, without a care in the world, "My body is yours! All yours! Fuck your cunt Father!" You scream out as he continues to pound into you mercilessly.

Hearing you declare yourself to him has Joel ready to bust. He's been watching you this entire time. From the very first meeting that he orchestrated, he knew you'd be so sweet and everything he wants and needs. He first saw you walking into the club, you looked too young and innocent to be a dancer. He immediately tapped into your thoughts and was able to discover everything he needed to know. Like how you're new to the area and very much alone and how you struggle with your faith in God but find comfort in the church. That gave him the idea to set up a trap just for you. See Joel owned this house on the corner. It's one of many, and this particular one, he decided to decorate it like a church. One day, he just happened to walk by your apartment and saw your car parked out front. Good thing he happened to be there because your car was leaking fluids, and Joel just happened to have a knife on him and he cut your fluid lines. It took you a couple of days but eventually, you stumbled upon his church and now he has you right where he wants you.

Joel continues to pound into you over and over, spearing you on his cock. The head kisses your cervix, making you scream out in pleasure. You can’t help but fuck yourself back on his cock. Pushing back on him almost as hard as he’s pushing into you. You feel yourself getting so close, never having felt a cock fuck you so good you came from penetration alone. You just need a little bit of attention to your clit.

“Fuck that’s it baby just like that. Fuck yourself on my cock. Nngh ooh oh fuck”

You feel Father Joel’s thrusts start to stutter, after a few more thrusts you can feel his dick pulse inside you, coating your walls with his thick load. You let out a whine as you feel him pull out. You were so close to coming, if only you could’ve touched yourself a little bit you would’ve came but he finished before you got a chance.

Joel pulls out and holds your pussy lips open with his thumbs as he admires his cum slowly pushing out of your entrance.

Hearing your whine Joel grabs your hips and helps roll you on your back. Once your completely on your back, he opens your legs, pushing your knees back up in your chest,

“Oh you poor thing. You didn’t get to cum yet did you? You just let me use this pretty little cunt huh? Don’t worry sweetheart it’s my turn to worship your heavenly body at the alter I built just for you.” Joel says to your sore pussy. Looking down at Father Joel, watching him stare at your cunt has you whimpering as he lowers his face and licks a wide stripe up your slit. Holding your legs up and he keeps his hands on the backs of your thighs, you can’t help but gush even more as he begins to suck on your clit as though it’s the most delicious piece of hard candy he’s ever tasted. You feel your high begin to build again in no time.

Joel can’t help but moan into your pussy. The taste of you and him combined is the sweetest nectar he has had the pleasure of experiencing. He starts to swirl his tongue around your clit while simultaneously sucking on it making you squirm around. His grip on your thighs tightens as he continues to feast from your body.

“Ooh oh fuck right there! Right there! Oh fuck! Yessss!” You scream out loud as you hit the hardest orgasm you’ve ever received. You pussy gushes so hard you actually squirt, watching it hit Joel in the face. He has a look of intense hunger as he opens his mouth to collect every drop.

Joel’s mouth leaves your body as you continue to lay there with legs shaking. He slowly lifts up and looks at you with a devilish grin.

“Let’s get you home and cleaned up my love. There’s a lot I have to teach you and show you now that you’re mine.” Joel says as he pulls your panties up. Finally starting to get your wits about you, you realize your covered in blood. So is he. Joel goes to stand to fix himself when he rips the white collar out,

“Don’t need this anymore” he chuckles as he throws it to the side. He reaches back down, placing an arm under your back and the other arm under your legs and picking you up like a baby, cradling you to his body.

Glancing around the empty church, “Father Joel what happened to the other people who were in here?” You ask.

“ Just Joel baby. You can call me Joel. And they were all an illusion my love. Merely a figment of your imagination. I had to make this church believable for you sweetheart. If I kept it empty you would’ve been suspicious. I couldn’t have that now could I?” He replies.

Despite all of the red flags that have been going off, you are perfectly content. Happy to be in his arms as he walks out the doors and down the steps to a car parked outside. Carefully opening the door, Joel sits you down in the passenger seat before shutting the door and walking around to the drivers side to get in.

Once inside the car, Joel starts up the engine and goes to grab your hand,

“Let’s go home my love” he says to you smiling. You smile back at him, ready to spend the rest of your days by his side.

A/n: I hope y’all enjoyed this! It literally came to me the other night while I was getting dicked down lol (: anyways yea. Thank you so so much for every like/reblog/comment! You guys are the best!♥️

[bonefall]

since squirrelflight isn't sparkpelts mom, or brambleclaws mate, whats the context (i think squirrelflights hope) where sparkpelt calls her a mouseheart for sticking up for brambleclaw

I think a lot of people forget that the context in the book was not great to begin with, since we collectively remember it from Moonkitti's video where she's making a point that Sparkpelt is acknowedging Bramblestar's mistreatment. It's part of her argument, demonstrating that even cats WITHIN the Clan can see that Bramble is treating his wife poorly.

But people who haven't read the book (or haven't in a while and half-remember it) construct context backwards from that, and think it was Sparkpelt trying to tell her mom to stop getting pushed around. It's not.

The context was; Sparkpelt wants Bramblestar to nonsensically start a war with ShadowClan because she thinks they poisoned Larksong.

She's not thinking straight because she's stressed. She's blaming ShadowClan because they'd previously poisoned SkyClan, and believes the motive is that they're angry with Bramblestar for trying to keep the peace. Yelling at her mother is supposed to be an example of irrationally lashing out.

It's also, probably, another opportunity for the writers to torment Squilf tbh. Sparkpelt screams at her that she's being a coward for defending the things Squilf had to BEG Bramblestar to do, so that Bramblestar can step in and tut-tut her with, "don't call your mom a mouseheart when ACTUALLY she's a bitch." Then he turns around to cry that his whole family hates him and he's actually the saddest little ducky in the kiddie pool. Lmaoo

So anyway. Squirrelflight's Horror.

Yep, Sparkpelt's no longer Squirrelflight's daughter; these two are Apprentice and Mentor.

And, yep, Squirrelflight broke it off with Bramblestar after OotS. They never get back together; Sparkpelt's mother is Jessy. But, in the very beginning of this book... she starts to feel bad for him, a tiny bit of the love they had re-sparks, and they're courting again.

Not "mates," but the equivalent of dating.

...Much to the chagrin of Squirrelflight's children, as all three of them have disavowed Bramblestar. Fallenleaf and Jayfeather awkwardly try not to get involved, and Lionblaze probably ends up in a argument with her as he tries to forcefully warn her about what a stupid choice she's making. They both dig their heels in because they are a lot alike, and Lionblaze's explosive confrontation only made the situation worse.

And tertiary effects: Toadstep takes his mate's side, but his mother Daisy (Squilf's best friend) and sister Rosepetal, (Squilf's first apprentice), choose to support Squirrelflight in whatever she does. Squilf's grandchild Hollylark and her apprentice, Sparkpelt, are... cautiously optimistic.

Sparkpelt's relationship with her dad has always been extremely strained. She wants to love him... but she's been involved in his little "tests" before. Squilf was always the one who PROTECTED her from them, an emotional rock during the storm that was her adolescence. Squilf knows what she's doing. She's aware of what she's getting into. She wants her dad to be happy. She knows he hasn't been happy since Jessy left him.

They All Know This. Yes?

So... she should be glad, right? That the people she loves are going to make each other happy? Maybe this will... you know... fix him. And her kits can be born into a happy world where their grandfather isn't so... frustrating.

Or, maybe she can just, HOPE, y'know? Maybe things can be okay after all? Just once?

Hollylark meanwhile is like, "Sure babe it's all gonna be fine! Nothing terrible is going to happen, hahahahahahahaha" as xey purchase 14 fire extinguishers, an insurance plan, and consult the Clerics on the best god to pray to. Alderheart solemnly tells xem that if there was a god who could help, he would have worshiped them long ago.

Leafpool sighs, "at least try goldenflower."

Squirrelflight's Horror's purpose is to set up the events of TBC. Bramblestar's controversial choices here, getting his entire Clan wrapped up in an abusive game he's going to play with his ex-wife/sort-of girlfriend, and ultimately leading his Clan into a controversial battle that gets Leafpool killed, is why no one caught that he was replaced by a cruel impostor.

But most of all, it's about Squirrelflight. It's her going on trial to defend Fire Alone as an ideology in the modern era, it's setting up how her worst enemy will kill to hurt her but how her allies support her, and it's her finally rejecting any love she has left lingering for someone who has proven that he can't treat her well, so that she can focus on all the people who do.

Her heart WILL lead her to make some rash, destructive choices, but nothing she's ever done out of compassion will be something she apologizes for.

SO the change of context around Hollylark's poisoning and death.

For one, Hollylark is now something more interesting. Xey are a Nature Spirit, one of the new entities in BB that I'm still solidifying the rules for.

Other examples of Nature Spirits: Brokenstar, Star Flower.

They're quite rare, and typically born of bits of nature that were beloved for generations before being destroyed.

Hollylark was born because one of xeir moms had a magic misfire. So xey're extremely weak compared to those two.

Fallenleaf has no idea yet how exactly she did this... or, even, how far her own powers extend.

Over the course of this story, Fallen is also having a tiny realization of her own that she can't stay in ThunderClan. She's a God, now, with Sol trapped inside her chest.

Bramblestar WILL be trying to drag her into the conflict, and she has to stand firm and argue that her powers can't be used for politics... or...

this part she does not say, knowing that saying it out loud would only make Squilf double down like Lionblaze's big fight with her did,

Or for Bramblestar's stupid drama.

Of her siblings, she's carrying the least pain about Bramblestar's treatment. She dropped the secret, and then vanished into an adventure that took her from this life for a thousand moons.

Everything still feels very far away, in a sense. Like she's still a distance away from the Hollyleaf that she once was.

So... Bramblestar feels small. This all feels small. Petty.

Beneath her.

So, whatever happens to Hollylark... it feels like a cold rainstorm. If she'd felt somewhat numb and dazed before, reality HITS her.

She couldn't SAVE her child. She has NO IDEA what her powers really are, or their limits.

This causes Fallenleaf and her mate, Cinderheart, to leave the Clans in search of those answers. To find out what Fallenleaf's role, as the new God of Autumn, should be.

But that's Cinderheart's Travels. One of the BB books that doesn't have an equivalent canon book lmao.

And back on Hollylark.

My current thought is that Sparkpelt should end up a LOT sicker from the prey-poisoning, while Hollylark is the one who's less affected by it.

In my head, Hollylark through this SE is in a sort of role where xey're not giving a ton of xeir own opinions, clearly just trying to support Sparkpelt and the kits. Xey're unbelievably stressed out, but xeir response under pressure is to fawn.

So the context of Sparkpelt snapping at Squirrelflight would be that she's physically sick. She's tired, terrified for herself, her kits, and in her state, she's taking it out on Squilf.

Instead of blaming ShadowClan, though, I'm thinking it would be more relevant for Sparkpelt to be angry that Squilf is "Making Bramblestar so upset."

If she's going to be making accusations that are emotional and don't make any sense, Squilf should be noticing that Sparkpelt is being sucked right back into being the self-conscious, terrified child she used to be. Before she had a mentor to rely on.

She hates that Squirrelflight is "upsetting" Bramblestar, blaming her for his actions, in a way that she used to do to herself when she was young.

And at first, Squilf is going to ACCEPT that, and APOLOGIZE... until something happens in front of her to make her realize that if she did that, she would be saying that the toxic impulses she had to train OUT of Sparkpaw were "correct."

A recognition of herself through Sparkpelt before her. And a realization that, no matter what happens, she NEEDS to be there for Sparkpelt because she still needs someone in her corner.

I'm still working out the non-Trial parts of Squirrelflight's Horror, so this is still getting shuffled around. But next,

Bramblestar barges in to "defend" Squilf.

What I like about the original context is the way that Bramble takes a fight between Squilf and Spark and makes it all about himself. I think it's intriguing and telling that he takes the opportunity to guilt trip Squilf again.

And what I'd like to do with the idea in the context of BB, is have Bramble try to force himself into this very personal moment like he's both a hero of Squilf AND hurting sooo very much to do it. Like it was a favor he was doing her, to cut through his immense pain at being undermined and betrayed, to "stand by her side."

And Squirrelflight sees this and feels sickened.

How could she EVER apologize to Sparkpelt for making Bramblestar upset, when he's so callous he'll BARGE in to "save her" from his sick daughter?

Something he MOCKED her for, once, before she chose him over Ashfur?

She's not fully ready to FINALLY purge herself of Bramble, no, but it's one of the last steps. Apologizing to Sparkpelt seemed like the correct thing to do... until Bramblestar reminded her where their guilt comes from.

MOSTLY, I'm unsure of how to resolve this scene. I know I don't want Squilf to stand up for Sparkpelt yet though.

And I want that to bug her. She was such a swirling whirlwind of guilt, shock, and offense, that she did nothing. Caught between too many emotions, she froze.

So Bramble could either storm off like he does in-canon, OR, have Hollylark finally push in to tell them that they need to leave and cut it early.

At some point, perhaps as an ending to this scene or later, I do want Hollylark to express frustration at the way Bramblestar is changing Squirrelflight, and how she just stood back right there

Xey're wise enough to realize it's not Squilf DOING it, but can't help but feel a crushing disappointment that she's THIS old, THIS wise, been through SO MUCH because of this guy...

"I LOVE you, but it's not just about you either. Can't you see how he's finding aaaaall these ways to drag everyone in, just because he wants to get at you?"

And especially Sparkpelt. She needs all of her allies right now, most of all the very mentor who taught her she didn't deserve to feel the way her dad often makes her.

But Squilf did not push back for her. It was only one moment... but it was an important one. And she lapsed.

She can't let that happen ever again.

As for Hollylark, I know that I need to kill them before the end of this book. Like canon, xey're gone before Squilf has her trial. My current thought is that xey sacrifice themself in some way in order to save Sparkpelt's life, perhaps deciding to "take their pain onto myself" and dying in her place.

And that's the context, so far. I've got the Trial pretty solidly mapped out, but the reworked politics and interpersonal stuff are still a WIP. I know the beginning and the end, but the middle's still loose!

[r0mantic-f00l]

more dad regulus 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

this one is def inspired by that one scene in uncle buck, love that movie so much 😭

A Father's Love

Rain patters down gently across the windshield as you gaze out the window; trees, people and buildings merely being a blur in your vision as your husband drives.

Adelia is in the backseat, strapped securely to her child car seat as her little legs kick the air, her head bopping to the beat of her favourite song which she begged to be played on repeat.

You glance over at your husband and snicker to yourself as he is clearly tired of the song by now, with his shoulders slumped and his mouth in a permanent straight line. Yet he always gives in to his daughter's insistence and makes himself suffer for it.

You are on your way to your daughter's nursery, which she joined only four months ago, so you were slightly concerned when you reviewed a call from the school asking you to come in for a 'conversation', as they worded it. Yet you know that's code for 'your daughter is so troublesome that we need to know what the hell you're teaching her at home'.

Yes, Adelia can be a handful at times, but you don't believe that her behaviour can be that bad.

Regulus pulls into the empty car park by the nursery and sighs as he unbuckles his seat belt.

"I'll go in." He murmurs, turning the engine off as well as the radio.

"Okay." You hum happily, no protest escaping your lips as you desperately prayed on the way over that you didn't have to talk to the bitter old teacher in charge.

"Daddy, turn the radio on." Adelia whines from the back, and Regulus groans, turning the radio back on, the hellish song repeating as Adelia sings along.

"Love you, good luck!" You call out as Regulus exits the car.

"Love you too." He responds before closing the car door and walking over to the entrance of the nursery.

He opens the glass doors and states his name to the receptionist, who tells him to wait outside the headmistress' office.

He takes a seat, waiting for five minutes as he glances at the table beside him.

Where's Wally, and the newspaper appears to be his only options of entertainment, to which he chooses neither.

Finally, the headmistress steps out of her office and beckons him in with a frown on her face.

Regulus enters the room, flinching when the headmistress slams the door.

"Take a seat." She commands as she sits down in her cushioned chair by her desk.

Regulus sits opposite her, and glances at her nameplate placed straightly at the very front of the desk.

Ms Worm.

He shouldn't think that is funny, but he does. He fears that his daughter is rubbing off on him, or perhaps his brother.

"Mr Black," Ms Worm begins, her frown still pressed onto her face as her beady eyes glare into his.

"I am quite busy today, as I have meeting after meeting after meeting, so I will be quite blunt," She clears her throat before sitting up straight in her chair with her nose pointed up high.

"I have been an educator for 35 years, and I have seen many bad children. And your daughter is one of them."

Regulus furrows his eyebrows and opens his mouth to protest, but before he can utter out a single letter, Ms Worm beats him to it.

"She is rude, she is aggressive, she is nothing but trouble to this school. Just the other day, she pushed a boy to the ground and smiled when he began crying!"

"..Why did she shove the boy?" Regulus asks, knowing that his daughter would never act that way unless she is provoked.

"Well, when I asked her, it was because the boy had been simply calling her names and pulling her hair."

"So she was defending herself?"

"No, she was not! That's not an excuse! It does not matter if the boy was doing that to her, she shouldn't have responded in such a rude, unladylike way!" Ms Worm begins yelling, pointing her finger repeatedly at Regulus as anger brews inside of him.

"Unladylike? She's three years old, she knows nothing about being a 'lady'," Regulus leans closer to the desk, his cold eyes glaring daggers into the older woman as she pretends to act as if she is not intimidated.

"Besides, the way I see it, she did nothing wrong. A boy was bullying her, so she defended herself. That's not being rude, it's being smart. But let me ask you this, did you talk to the boy's parents about his behaviour? Or is it just my daughter that is the 'problem'?"

Ms Worm swallows as she prepares her answer, her nose still pointed up to the ceiling as she attempts to grasp any remaining power she had.

"I-I don't see why I should. After all, boys will be boys."

Regulus scoffs and stands up from his seat, his hands planning themselves on either side of the desk as he stares the woman down.

"So you're telling me that whilst my daughter gets in trouble for defending herself, that boy, that bully, walks away without any punishments? Are you serious?" His voice slightly raises the woman as she attempts to stutter out an answer, but it seems that Regulus' love over his daughter beats the woman's bitter heart.

"You should be severely punishing that boy! You should be shouting at his parents instead of me about how they're raising a spoilt brat! And most of all, you should be proud of my daughter for protecting herself instead of being weak and letting it just happen without any consequence."

Ms Worm gazes at him with her eyes wide open in shock, her mouth agape as Regulus only continues in his rampage against the woman.

"I don't know what happened in your miserable life to make you such a bitter old worm, but you should be ashamed of yourself for calling a three year old unladylike simply because she pushed a stupid little boy. I'm proud that she did, because that means that she's learnt something from me, which is to never let bullies like you get away with bad actions." Regulus stands up straight, feeling triumph in Ms Worm's shocked and afraid state, her head no longer held high, but rather dropped in embarrassment.

"You're lucky that I'm not pulling my daughter out of this nursery. But if I ever hear of another child bullying my daughter, if I ever hear an insult aimed towards her, I'm coming to you and I'll make sure this nursery shuts down for good."

Ms Worm nods in acknowledgement, clasping her hands over her heart as Regulus walks towards the door.

"Have a lovely day, Ms Worm." He says as if he didn't threaten her just ten seconds prior, yet with slight snark in his tone, then opens the door, leaving the old woman afraid and weak.

He walks into the car park and rushes towards the car to avoid the rain.

When Regulus opens the car door, the sound of you and Adelia singing together enters his ears and leaves him with a bright smile on his face.

"Everything OK?" You ask once Regulus sits in the driver's seat.

"Yes, everything's good." He answers with a grin that tells you he's hiding something, but you'll ask later, perhaps when your daughter isn't around you.

Regulus turns around to Adelia and rubs her knee.

"How about we go and get some cake?"

Adelia gasps and nods, cheering as Regulus chuckles and turns on the engine once again, whilst you smile at Adelia's excitement.

"We better be quick though, we did leave our baby in the care of my man-child brother." Your husband mutters, making you laugh.

[vasito-de-leche]

okay I read your analysis on Forget Me Not and I'm in tears now thank you. (No but really thank you, it's such a touching piece.) Can you PLEASE for salvation of our fans souls write anything to like,,, give him hope? Forget Me Not x reader but it doesn't have to be actually all-out with hugs and kisses. We may,,,,,,,, just show him a new hobby? Any hobby of your choosing or idk play an instrument together. Just to give him something else to focus on, to channel at least part of his energy from self-destructive activities to something less hurtful. I'd personally like to bandage his (not actually wounded but still) hands as if they were bleeding. Something of the kind. Sorry for mistakes writing is incredibly inconvenient cuz tears aaa.

;R1999 FORGET ME NOT - "hands, fingers, scales"

Forget Me Not x Reader. 2.3k words. self-harm implied You've befriended Forget Me Not the same one befriends a rabid, beaten, old dog. And while he's much too busy fighting his inner demons, you're more worried about stopping these "pernicious habits" of his. A casual afternoon trying to make sure he's taking care of himself turns into something deeper.

thank you so much for the ask, nonnie!!

I got a little carried away with this request because thinking about how fucking insufferable and confusing FMN has to be just to indulge in HAND HOLDING and GETTING A FUCKING HOBBY made me so deranged and feral as if hes not fucking TOUCHSTARVED lmfao. this guy's love language is straight up worshipping, mf is not subtle about it

either way, hope you like it! here's the lil preview!

Sometimes, Forget Me Not understands the reason men and women kneel at the pew to worship and pray.

Devotion is something arcanists and humans share, whether honest or not. He's witnessed the rich and the poor, the pure and the depraved, and every binary that rules this world - all of them begging, pleading and praying at the end of their lives, casting away the pride they've held on for so long for the chance of salvation. Once stripped down to their core, there is nothing to do but hope God has enough love in His heart to look their way. 

And sometimes, Forget Me Not prays that you’ll find someone else - anyone but him - to fill the role of devotee.

The gentleness in your eyes whenever you look at him is enough to bring him to his knees, and Forget Me Not doesn't know what to do with himself but to worship and pray. Praying that you'll continue to look at him for a little longer, silently begging for your attention until you finally tire of him. Do you think yourself holy enough to replace the vitriol in his veins?

He does.

On good days, he even hopes that you can save him.

You never asked him to become your one and only believer, of course. You're not even aware of the space you take in his mind, nor the conflicting images he keeps conjuring of you at night, he's certain of this. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here, holding his hands and inspecting them for any injuries. This role is one of the many self-imposed tragedies in his life.

Your thumbs knead and massage his palm, as if you could soothe the pain away, and yet you refrain from pressing down hard. He's at your mercy, why hesitate? What do you see that he cannot?

Something is bothering you. It's obvious in the way you touch him, like you're afraid of hurting him, as if you were the one with a body count between the two. Every so often, your movements come to a halt and you both sit in silence, until you return to your ministrations, filling the nothingness with your sighing and humming.

All he needs is to look up, right at your face, to know everything he wants to know - but he's too much of a coward for that. Instead, light grey eyes follow your index finger as it slides under the cuffs of his shirt. You trace over the bone of his wrist and continue upwards.

He can't tear his eyes away.

Normally, Forget Me Not wouldn't mind. There is an addictive thrill to witnessing the shock of anyone who dares get so close and personal, but he feels himself shrink when you brush against his scales and recoil away on instinct. That's when he raises his head and finds your eyes in the dimly lit staff room.

That expression on your face - surely, you were regretting every choice that led you to him. By now, you might've surely realized that there is nothing for you to salvage in this shipwreck he calls a life. All attempts to check on him were surely a façade for whatever ulterior motives you continued to withhold from him. He's stubborn, believing that he can read you like an open book, but now he's just as lost as you are. When he opens his mouth to speak, you beat him to it and he grows a little restless at your words.

"Sorry, sorry! Did I, uh, hurt you? Dumb question, you would've definitely told me if that were the case. Anyway, it looks like you're okay! I don't know why I was so worried, actually."

His silence prompts you to continue, and all Forget Me Not can focus on is the absence of your warmth.

You raise a hand to gesture dismissively at your behaviour, brush it off to ease your embarrassment, that much he understands - though it's painful to watch you fumble like that, to deny what he hides under his clothes. Forget Me Not thinks of filling the space between your fingers with his own, just to drag you back to that quiet, albeit suffocating, moment of peace. Instead of doing that, he retreats and places both hands neatly on his lap.

"Thanks for indulging me and, yeah uh, again - sorry about that? It just caught me off guard. I should've been more careful."

But you were never careful with his space or his rules, plunging in and out of his life and leaving him to figure out where he stood in his game of push and pull. Why were you being careful now?

"It's nothing, I understand," he lies. Everything you do means the world to him and he doesn't even understand why. "It cannot hurt to know what sort of things the person pouring your drinks might be hiding under their sleeves."

The word "hypocrite" lingers at the tip of his tongue, threatening to spill out with as much venom as he can muster, but it stays lodged behind his teeth because he knows he's even worse: Forget Me Not prays that you'll stay with him, while also opening the door right out his life for you. As much as he wants to, he has no right of calling you out.

He's not used to receiving apologies and so he chooses not to think too hard on yours - though he's dreamed countless of times for the perfect situation in which he finally rips out one apology after another from the throats of those who wronged him, this one feels different. Undeserved, even.

His heart, that wretched lump in his chest, finally settles down and he prepares to end this interaction to save you the awkwardness of addressing his "deformities". But then you go and surprise him once more.

"Come on, I already told you..." You sigh and he inhales in tandem, but you're much too busy rolling your eyes to notice. "That whole thing you do, when you start scratching or, like, picking at your hand? You've been doing it more lately. It had me worried you might've been doing, I don't know - something."

Forget Me Not's eyes widen in surprise. The audacity to notice such things about him? And to put them on display without a warning? What else did you find out?

Part of him wants him to embrace his nature and scare you away, but that's the side of him that's been slowly losing this battle of attrition in his heart - you're a bad influence for him, after all. The other part... Well, it's still trying to sort itself out.

He settles for slowly undoing the buttons on his sleeve. It only takes a moment to roll up the fine fabric to his elbow, knowing you're staring right at him, through him maybe. The expression on his face is one of indifference, one he fights to maintain - this is the most vulnerable he's felt in decades.

That unsightly pattern begins exactly where his sleeves usually end, coiling around his forearm not unlike a snake and traveling upwards. The scales are dark, an iridescent black that reminds him of an oil spill in the middle of the ocean, and the ones at the edges fade away into lighter hues until they mix with the pale, sickly tone of his skin. He knows the sort of beauty he holds, one that can only be admired at a distance, turning into a grotesque imitation of a man when up close.

Forget Me Not presents himself to you and, with his free hand, gets ready to pluck one of the scales off.

"Wait, don't do that-!"

Seizing his arm and holding it close to your chest, you deprive him of the catharsis that comes with this level of self-mutilation. He knows you're connecting the dots, feeling the scattered, empty spaces from all the times you saw him pick himself apart and more. Your fingers brush against his bare skin looking for said spaces, counting them in your head, mourning their loss.

Some scales are in the process of regrowing like unwanted parasites, and he wishes he could feel anything at all just to be closer to you.

"God, what is wrong with you?! What was the point of that?"

Something compels him to laugh (perhaps it's your heartbeat reaching out to him loud and clear through your clothes, he feels it faintly) it comes across as sinister and condescending, the only way he knows how to express joy. Like he's making fun of your concern.

"Apologies," Forget Me Not begins to say, readjusting his glasses. The way you try to keep his own arm out of his reach doesn't go unnoticed. It's such a petty, childish gesture that makes his grin widen and your frown deepen. "I was under the impression you found this little oddity distasteful. There's no need to worry - they will return in a few days, they always do."

"Still, don't do that. It's not funny. It must...hurt a lot."

"Ah, but it doesn't. If else, I'd compare it to being pricked by a very small needle."

"You're just going to find something to nitpick and contradict everything I say, aren't you?" It's the least he can do to repay all the headaches you've given him, and for forgiving his transgressions too easily.

An intrusive thought makes itself known from the depths of his mind - would you forgive him just as readily if he were to kill someone in front of you? If he showed you just how destructive his arcane skills could be when given free reign? Where would you draw the line? And how much could he continue to push his luck before he lost you?

Before Forget Me Not realizes it, you've loosened your grip on his arm and returned to that previous moment of suffocating peace - the only difference is that you've gone from being deep in thought to troubled and miserable, one hair away from darting out the room and refusing to speak to him. At this, his pinky finger wraps around yours and neither of you mention it.

"Can't you... I don't know, do something else?"

"I could be doing my job, but alas, you're keeping me prisoner here." He says, like he's not delighted to be given your undivided attention. There are no complaints when you step on his foot with a huff, he deserved that one.

"I'm talking about the scales thing! You could wear gloves. If it happens when you get distracted then, I could hang around to make sure you stop in time." A pause, and then the sound of your voice becomes unsure and so very small. "Maybe if we covered them with bandages...? But that could be annoying. Band aids? No, no - too unprofessional. It would ruin the whole aesthetic you're going for."

You continue to trail off, coming up with many different ideas and solutions to a problem he caused. He doesn't understand why you'd even bother in the first place. For you to reciprocate the attention he gives you, to care about him? That's the hardest pill Forget Me Not has ever swallowed - it's something he twirls around with his tongue, as if deciding whether to poison himself with bliss or spit it out and continue latching on to his doubts and insecurities.

Outside, in front of everyone at The Walden, he's the one leading the crowd and talking for hours on end, commanding their attention and manipulating the flow of every conversation.

Behind closed doors, all he does is listen to every nonsensical thought, unnecessary opinion and strange anecdote you throw at him.

"...No, that won't work either." Absentmindedly, you fix and button his sleeve back into place.

You've grown used to his silence the same way you've adapted and grown used to his flaws.

"I mean, it worked on me - getting a little slap on the wrist whenever I started biting my nails, but..." Without even thinking, you rub circles with your thumb across his knuckles.

You might as well be the stupidest angel in heaven.

"Why don't you just get a hobby? That's good enough, right? It's been so long since I've heard you play piano, the one by the stage." And just like that, you're on your feet attempting to drag him outside for a demonstration. "You could teach me! That way, we get to do something fun and I get to keep an eye on you."

Forget Me Not knows he has nothing to offer to this world, but when his saint looks at him with such hope, he cannot refuse. The path to recovery seems almost doable when you bump your shoulder into his, challenging him to play the hardest song he knows.

The stars in your eyes whenever you recognize all the songs he plays becomes intoxicating, more so than the sweet, sweet revenge he's yearned for since he spiraled into decadence.

Some days, his patrons join with their own singing or humming, and he forgets that he hates each and every one of them for as long as his fingers dance across the keys - a momentary reprieve from the constant stream of negativity. It doesn't take long for his body to remember his training and soon, he's improvising.

A melody for gloomy, rainy days. A whimsical tune here and there for celebrations.

A song for you and himself - the first one he teaches you and the only one he plays in private, when he's all alone with nothing but his thoughts. Solitude has gone from a noose wrapped around his neck to the perfect time to compose and hone this long forgotten passion. For the first time in forever, he doesn't dread the silence of an empty room, the endless wait between his shifts at The Walden - not when he can simply fill them with more and more music.

And so, Forget Me Not plays, hoping that you'll continue to cheer him on. Hoping that this tiny spark you've ignited in him can truly become his salvation.

[capriciouscapsss]

meeting your future spouse ™

BOOK A READING WITH ME

today we're doing a first meeting pac with your future spouse

we have four piles; intuitively choose the pile you're most drawn to.

now let's go ahead and start ♡

pile i. daffy duck rolling in money

[The hermit, 6oS, Knight of Cups, t.w.n.o.o.t.u, n.t.i.w.w., o.n.s]

This was my face as I was shuffling for you: 😲 you guys haven't been trusting the universe at all right now! the universe asks you to trust, to let go, to make sure that you're healing yourself before worrying about when you and your person will meet. they will come to you!! they will. but you have to let go. only when you let go is when you and your f/s will finally meet. only when you choose yourself over anyone else is when you two will meet. you know a lot of people say that they find love when they least expect it and I do think that will be the case for you, pile one. when you finally choose to put yourself first is when they will come into the picture. but for this you have to let go!! are you staying up late at night watching someone else's profile? seeing what they post and crushing from afar? yeah, let go of that rn😠 act like you need no one bc they'd all be LUCKY to even have a chance with you and this person will come!! when you retreat, when you put yourself first and detach from an unhealthy situation (crushing badly, toxic relationship, self isolation, ect) you'll see that this person will come rushing in. Now for the actual MEETING, well I do see that you meet this person from afar at first. they have a good reputation and they're seen as someone elevated. honestly i get the image of someone watching from afar, trying to act distant like they don't care (this is you btw😭) whilst still keeping an eye on them. you notice them first but that does not mean they don't know you. honestly they haven't heard very good stuff about you when you two meet sorry sorry bUT they still approach you anyways. again i get the image of you trying to act cool and collected, you probably don't even take them seriously. it might be somewhere crowded where you can (metaphorically or actually) feel everyone's eyes on you both. i do see people thinking like oh these two are about to fool around or like nothing can stem from the both of you talking but they're still curious enough to watch. + for some of you this can point to having a crush on them back then without knowing them, as in maybe a social media crush or something like that. like you KNOW them because you've been keeping an eye on them before but they don't know you; they've just heard mean things about you.

additional little notes: forgive, 9, the past, past crush?, problems, do we have beef?, the situation improves

pile ii. a stack of cash being flipped through

[6oS, the world, 9op, l.a.f.s, g.t.h, n.r, m.e]

Hellooo pile two! your first meeting is a weird thing. they keep pulling me to tell you about your second meeting and not your first. first off, I'm praying for you. the energy of your future spouse- wait no scratch that the alleged appearance of your future spouse??? yeah good luck. we got the oracle card "guy is too hot" like what else do we even need??? 😭 you're going to be so caught off guard when you meet them. i don't believe necessarily in love at first sight but it's so likely that it happens to both of you. you my dear lovely pile two, are somewhat of a romantic (this is my nice way of saying erratic in love) you seem to crush on people allll the time. you put big emphasis on the more uhm rated r side of love. like how it'll be, how they'll be and so on and so forth. BUT the crazy thing is, this doesn't happen with this person; you're stuck wanting to know more about them on a even friendship SOULMATE level. they're ridiculously attractive and yet you don't even want to connect bodies you want to connect with their SPIRIT. it's crazy because your way of meeting each other is almost like destiny. I can see you guys telling the story later on in your marriage and realizing that if xyz hadn't changed even just a bit then you two likely wouldn't have met. like true destiny type of vibes in your connection. i do think the reason as to why spirit doesn't want to talk about your first meeting it's because nothing really happens the FIRST meeting. most likely they're watching from afar, immediately in love. and they won't even ask for your name or nothing either, just watches from afar then goes home lmao. it's DESTINY intervening that has you two meeting again and that's when it starts. you SEE them now too. you want to speak to them and learn their name. honestly I do get the vibe that they're a bit more "refined" than you are. as in more polite and with better manners. you're gonna charm the pants off them though, just in a wilder way. def gonna surprise them.

additional little notes: the notebook but with noah as the girl and allie as the boy lol, fated connection, meeting by a friend, charity, travel

pile iii. person counting money next to their cat

[the high priestess, the hanged man, 8oC, remain positive, v.s, mm, s.b]

my dear pile 3s it's all going to get better. you'll see ♡ the energy in this pile is tired. take some rest, you need to sleep. you need to think, be alone with your thoughts and untangle the web that you take great care not to focus on. pile three, you and your f/s will meet in a period of trying to advance knowledge wise. so attending school, college, starting a class, or just in a library. it's going to be during a period that you do not want to be bothered. you and them seem to be on the same struggle boat; whatever it is you're trying to get doesn't seem to want to be gotten 😭 and you are so stressed out. you keep wondering if the dream you're even going for is possible of being accomplished. i do feel like at the time you meet they are not in that situation anymore but they can relate to these feelings. like it was like prior to meeting you they were going through your exact situation but they're better off now. as in like they already accomplished what you wanted to do first. they might see you looking lost in thought or just going through a hard time and approach you only to give you advice or help you in a sort of way. they don't mean anything romantic by it but you look so distressed that they can't help but WANT to help you. and help you they do, I'm seeing that they change your way of thinking. they force you to see things differently. like "hey why don't you try this" or "what are you so afraid of" making you relax and feel more sure and confident. + for some of you I'm getting that later you might find out that this person might've actually been someone who your friends or family tried to set you up on a blind date with prior but you always refused. silly uu <3

Additional little notes: riches, tired, 3, help, a year from now, intuition

pile iv. perfect pink stack of cash being presented

[9oC, 2oW, Knight of Pentacles, R.B, P, T.I.S.I]

my passion pile omg what!!! pile 4 i thought we were starting out cute and loving as we shuffled out the tarot cards then the oracle cards came out and my mouth dropped. one of you is so impatient!! like i can feel it from over here ngl. please be patient, this is coming to you, faster than you think. you see, your first meeting is so intense. like passionate. you might even raise your voice at them the first time you meet. omg okay so this might sound very weird BUT hear me out. this is someone from your past 😭 bUT i know no one likes hearing that but liSTEN. this is someone from the PAST past. as in you knew each other from childhood and maybe never saw them again as you grew up. ever wonder what happens to that one person you went to elementary school with and you just never saw them again. yeah, this is what this is looking like. the last time you saw them might've been since childhood and i know this is a first meeting reading but shush! childhood doesn't count. at least in this case it doesn't cause meeting them again is recognizing them. seeing them and feeling a flicker of the past. feeling like "hey I know you". seeing them is realizing that they've really grown into themselves and that they turned out to be amazing (attractive) people. like all their good qualities that they had when children seemed to have gotten better with time. this is a long gap of not seeing other again by the way. for ex. say the last time you saw them you had just turned 9/10, the next time you saw them you'd be 25 or just significantly older. they'd moved away and come back looking very different but with core characteristics being the same. I do think that at the time of your meeting you'd be getting out of a relationship. a bad one. you never felt yourself, you always felt like you were putting on a show. like you were lying, like it was all an act. and i do think you eventually end it. and when you do, this person pops us; and they have it all it seems. they're happy, successful, and confident. you both immediately want each other; it's intense. something filled with water AND fire. like I mentioned at first, you pile three might have heavy fire in your chart or on the flip side it could possibly be that coming out of that relationship has made you have to be mean and cruel at times. that's why I feel you're not nice to them at first. they're pure water, something pure deep and gracious. you on the other wand are trickier. as you see they don't get bothered by your comments or suggestions, I do feel that's going to make you pause like "huh"; it's going to intrigue you.

Additional little notes: run away, intensity, perform, mask, communication, no!

that was all for today; hope you all have an amazing day and that this pac reading resonated. blessings xx 💞💞