#i just did the fish beast too

[plutoswritingplanet]

It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha x Female!Reader) pt. 2

a/n: re-uploaded cause tumblr wouldn't show it in the tags for some reason Cross-Posted on AO3

Warnings: Dub-Con, Arranged Marriage, Reader is an Atriedes, Horny Violence, and some angsty family relations (lmao)

Summary: The courting becomes more and more complicated, as both you and the Na-Baron discover something about each other.

Part.1, Part 3. Part 4.(finale)

- He's a beast.

Lady Jessica stops in her tracks, her hands sliding gently across the fabric of your nightgown. It's your Mother, that puts it out on the table next to your bed. But the person, who turns back towards you with an unreadable expression, is most definitely not her. You're talking to a Bene Gesserit sister now. A freezing chill runs up your spine, and you start picking at the skin around your fingernails, a nervous habit you've picked up a long time ago.

- Have you forgotten all that I have taught you? - she asks, turning to face you fully, in the dimly lit space of your bedroom

Subconsciously you retreat into yourself, body leaning further away from her, as if that distance might save you from whatever unpleasant revelation will most likely fall upon you. Lady Jessica takes a deep breath, her lips pulling back into an easy, soothing smile. In the past, you would look for expressions such as this, fish them out for comfort. Now, as you look upon your Mother's face, it all seems to be a trap made specifically for you.

- Men like him, beastly men, are the weakest ones - she explains, taking slow steps towards your hunched form - They need the power and the blood to feel worthy of existing, which makes them easy to manipulate. Keep them pliant under your hands like fresh dough. 

She sits beside you, your mattress dipping under her weight, and your eyes are immediately drawn to your Mother's elegant hands, folded neatly in her lap. You wish you could put your head there. Have her pull your running thoughts out with gentle caresses. A hairbrush lays abandoned on the vanity in front of you, and silently you contemplate, whether you'll ever have the opportunity to have your hair brushed by her. 

- You must find his weakness, what drives him to do what he does. And then control it.

- I don't want to control my husband - the words spill out of your lips, before you have the chance to stop them - I want to love him, to support him. To give him children he'll love, children I'll love. 

Tears fall in heavy waterfalls down your cheeks. You haven't had the luxury of a good cry since your betrothed had arrived, and it feels divine. Letting your body shake and shiver, wrecked by uninhibited sobs, as your Mother looks down upon you, torn between the two roles she must fulfill. 

The more you've thought about your situation, the more hopeless you felt. The Harkonnens will never let you see your family again, you're sure of it. You'll have to deal with all the horrors of Giedi Prime entirely on your own, with no support from your husband, no friends, no family. And your children, as they are sure to come, will be taken away from you. Thrown into the black and white, until there's no love left in them. 

The Emperror is a cruel man, you think. An execution would've been a kinder end. 

- Why did you have to make me a Daughter? - the way your voice breaks in desperation fills you with shame - Why couldn't you give Father another Son?

You know you've overstepped, as soon as the accusatory tone registers in your brain. It is far too late by then, and the hands, which just moments before you've fantasized about running through your hair, grip you tightly. Your Mother's face, a constant image of beauty, twists into something darker, something you don't recognize, and you gasp, as her dull fingernails dig into the skin of your wrist.

- Your Father has Paul - her voice is barely above a whisper, blue eyes stabbing you with the intensity of her gaze - I gave him a son, because he asked for a son. Because I loved him enough to give him one. And he can have him. He can fill him with lessons of male leadership, of short-sighted plans. You. You are my Daughter. You are mine, and I've trained you well enough to conquer this task.

A hopeless pit settles itself in the void of your stomach.

You've always known your destiny would be to marry well, to further House Atreides' legacy. And yet, somehow, there was a sliver of hope, treacherously worming itself into your brain. Your Father had Paul, the perfect heir. Surely, he could send him off for the greater good and leave you to your own devices. Let you find someone to care for you, someone you'd do anything for. The thought sits in the pit of your stomach, turning your insides in shame. Still, you can't shake the sinking feeling, that if the universe was kind, you would've been born a Son. 

Your Mother, or more likely, the Bene Gesserit, stands up, a cold chill filling the space where her body used to sit. She regards you once, a stern, unwavering gaze.

- Wear black tomorrow.

Perhaps, you'll die in your sleep tonight. Perhaps the universe will bring you this small mercy.

*** Perhaps you did die. 

Through the haze of dreams, you can see him. Bare, as the day he was born, body gleaming white in the darkness of your room.

You can't move, can't see his face, and when he approaches, every single one of your muscles tense. You shift under the covers, cold tendrills of fear engulfing you entirely. He comes closer, moves like a wild cat, stands at the foot of your bed. 

The need to run is overwhelming, but your body refuses to listen, as slowly, torturously slowly, he climbs on top of you, defined muscles moving under his skin in a way that reminds you of some cursed demon, rather than a man. His scent fills your nostrils, a mixture of something heady and metalic, and, like a little child scared of the dark, you try to hide your face under the covers. 

This demon version of your betrothed sits down, sculpted thighs squeezing around your sides, and with rising panic you realize, he's slowly choking the life out of you. A fitting end, a welcomed one. Perhaps it would be better to die right now, before you discover what atrocities he plans to commit on your body and mind, after you're wedded. 

Then, his hand reaches behind his back, full lips pull upwards, exposing blackened out teeth. You barely register the glint of his sword, not until he holds it high up, above his hand. You're not allowed a moment to wallow in your confusion, as your future husband brings the weapon down, sinking it with brutal force into your beating heart.

You awake screaming.

***

In the morning, you pull a black tunic over your head, remnants of your dream clinging to you like an unwanted shadow. 

Every move of the silky fabric against your skin feels like a small defeat, and with your head hung low, you make your way towards the dining hall. Truly, you're not hungry, stomach turning and twisting, a steady presence of nerves keeping your body on edge. Your attendance is required however, such are customs, and it is entirely too eaarly for another lecture about your behaviour. 

As you enter the room, your mask of tired indifference slips just for a second, a mixture of fear and anger flickering in, and out of existence.

 There, opposite of your Father you can see him. Your future husband, the love of your miserable, ending life. Slow horror washes over you, as you suddenly realize that this demonic, otherwordly version of him, which visited you in your nightmares is just how he looks. He greets you with a polite inclination of his smooth head, and you consider not showing any outward sign of repulsion, a small victory on your part. Your Mother doesn't think so, but you dodge her sharp eyes in favor of greeting your brother.

It doesn't go unnoticed, the way Feyd Rautha's eyes drink in greedily the sight of you embracing Paul. His gaze lingers on your smile, and he raises his cup to his lips, scrunching his nose ever so slightly at the unfamiliar drink he's been offered. You want to ask, if they have coffee on Giedi Prime, but the question is forcefully swallowed down. You will not talk to this man. He will never know anything more than contempt from you. Curse your Mother's words, you'll fight this battle every day, on your own, if you have to. 

- My Daughter will show you around the training barracks after breakfast - Duke Leto announces, and you freeze with a cup of coffee half-way to your lips.

- Will I? - you ask, trying to control the edge in your voice. 

- Na-Baron has made inquires about a place to train - your Father explains, giving you a meaningful side eye - You'll accompany him. 

The coffee tastes like rot in your mouth, and you place your cup down with a note of finality. You won't look at him, you don't have to. That knowing smirk could be felt through the very particles flowing in the air, every single one laughing at your predicament. 

Despite your best efforts, the breakfast comes to an end, your family slowly rising to attend to their duties. Your Father, ever the cordial man, bids his farewells to the unwelcomed guest. Your Mother does the same, albeit sounding more honest. Paul lingers as long as Lady Jessica allows him, until he is forced to retreat by a slender hand tugging mercilessly on his elbow. A gesture both of you know intimately from your childhoods. 

Before you know it, you're left alone with the pale imitation of a man. He arises slowly from his seat, smoothly making his way towards you, each of his footsteps echoing in the dining room. 

- Shall we, my Lady? 

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his offered hand, like a white spider living just outside of your vision. With a shudder, you slip out of your chair, trying very hard not to touch him, and failing immediately, when his broad chest nearly pushes you back into your seat. 

He smells nice, your brain betrays you, the scent bringing back images from your night terror, causing an involuntary shiver to run up your spine. With averted gaze, you turn to leave, ignoring his still extended hand. He follows you like a shadow, catching up to you in no time, as you slide through the corridors of the Palace. It's uncomfortable, to say the least, walking with him behind your back. His eyes bear into you, a prickly feeling at the base of your neck making you roll your shoulders.

It follows you, as he follows, right to the very destination. All in blessed silence, a small miracle to save this already dreadful morning.

The men, launging about at the training barracks freeze in their spots, and your heart nearly jumps out of your chest, when Duncan Idaho catches your eyes. His skin has a beautiful, warm tone, highlighted by the morning sun flowing into the room through the windows. You nod, he nods back, an unspoken understanding blooming between the two of you. There could be no suspicion of any closer bond, lest this engagement would be called off. A result, perhaps favorable to you personally, but your family would never live down the shame. And you would never jeopardize Paul's future, no matter how hollow yours looked.

- You have a warrior's body - your betrothed comments, as he inspects the blades laid out on a small table - Do you train here as well?

Small talk, you could do small talk. With a sigh, you tear your gaze away from Duncan, and turn to the Harkonnen, forcing something resembling a polite smile to bloom onto your features. 

- Yes, I do - you answer curtly, eyes falling onto elegant, white fingers, sliding over a shiny metal blade. 

- It is not a common practice here, is it? - he looks at you, eyes gliding over your stature - Women being trained to fight?

Suddenly very much aware of your body, you cross your arms on your chest, hugging yourself tightly. You don't miss the way his gaze seems to linger on the low neckline of your tunic, and with bitterness on your tongue you wonder, has this man ever felt ashamed. 

- Not common, but it does happen - your voice betrays your emotions, a sharp edge settling over your tone, causing the man to arch an eyebrow.

Finally, he settles onto a chosen blade, bringing it up to the light and with laser focus observing the way particles dance on the steel surface. Then, he looks back at you, catching you in the act of observing the prominent, lean muscles on his neck. You ignore the knowing smirk and will your blushing cheeks to suddenly become devoid of color.

They don't, of course, and you scurry to the side of the table, to fiddle with the rest of the weaponry. Your favorite training blade is there, and instinctually, your hand reaches for it. 

- Train with me.

The request catches you off guard, and you shoot him a questioning look, one he deflects with a nonchalant shrug. 

Your muscles flinch, as you drag your hand back from the blade. 

- It would hardly be appropriate - you counter, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your tunic.

To that, he tilts his head, light eyes studying you for a longer moment, until you truly feel uncomfortable under such scrutiny. 

- And suddenly you're worried about what the court says? - he cuts you off, before you have the chance to ask, just what exactly does he mean by that - Perhaps you're too soft to fight me.

- I know what you're doing - you point an accusatory finger at his chest, and the man smiles, blackened teeth peaking between his full lips.

- And what am I doing? - it's hard to ignore the teasing timbre in his voice, and you swallow thickly.

- You're trying to get under my skin.

Shivering under the expected cruel glint in his eye, as another, most likely filthy innuendo purses his lips, you turn to him fully, a serious expression on your features.

- I've seen you fight, Na-Baron - his jaw tightens at the sound of your voice curling around his title - I know you're a force to be reckoned with, I'm not scared to admit that.

He straightens, regards you with furrowed brows for a longer second, until, yet again you start to fidget under his gaze.

- Perhaps then, you're scared you'll hurt me - the mere idea is so preposterous, your head snaps in his direction - If I had known, you liked me that much...

- That is entirely not true, and you know it - you deflect again, although annoyance begins to paint your voice.

Then, his hand shoots out, gripping your arm and pulling you closer. Air seems to thicken around you, as you look up at him, with surprise quickly morphing into outrage. His breath mingles with yours, and you can't seem to look away from his eyes, pupils nearly drowned in the overwhelming blue of his irises.

- Stop hiding, my viper. Fight me.

The command, spoken in a harsh whisper just shy of your lips, turns your insides into molasses. 

His taller form leans down to tower over yours, an intense expression settling over his sharp features. Close to excitement, much too close to desire, even closer to a murderous curiosity. Your throat feels entirely too dry, and before you can stop yourself, you swallow thickly, tongue darting out to lick your lips. His eyes snap almost immediately downwards, and your heart stops beating. You can't see anymore blue in his irises, only black. Darkness covers his eyes reflecting his thoughts, and you feel like you have to flee right now, before something terrible happens to you. 

So you do just that. Ripping yourself away from his closeness, you return to the table, hand finding your chosen blade without really looking. 

Another flash of black teeth, as the Na-Baron realizes what you're doing, and the both of you enable the shields surrounding your bodies. 

The gathered soldiers watch on, as you march towards the center of the room, determination filling every step to the brim. Duncan gives you a look, which you choose to ignore. You can't think about him now, not when you have your honor to defend against this Harkonnen monster of a man. 

Feyd Rautha rolls his shoulders, discards the thin fabric of his dress shirt, and once again you are stricken with his almost god-like physique. The blade looks like an extension of his hand, as he weighs it and slashes the air in front of him. Then, he fixes you with a challenging expression, as if he expects you to do the same, to try and best him at some shameless display.

You decide to keep your clothes on, blade held high, ready to strike. 

He jumps from one leg to another, and immediately an orchestra of alarm bells rings out in your brain. Should a man really be this excited at the prospect of fighting his future wife? Should you be this excited? Questions without answers, and before any of you make a move, another one absent-midedly floats to the surface. Just how much can you hurt each other, before the wedding is concluded? How much you'll inevitably hurt each other after?

The darkness he has brought on the ship with him must be contagious, because despite your better judgement, you smile. A sharp smirk, that makes your eyes look less like a human and more like a wild animal. And he drinks it all in, as he begins to circle you.

You'd never show him your back, never again. He's a tried and true predator, the only instinct he has, is a killer one. A fact you quickly get aquatinted with, as he unleashes a series of lightning fast strikes your way. 

Immediately you realize, that small show of cruelty he organized at your grandfather's theatre was nothing, compared to what he could truly do. And still, you suspect he's holding back, as you barely dodge a nasty stab, right under your ribs. Another one is blocked against your sheild, and before you have a chance to collect yourself, third one sends you back a couple of steps. 

He doesn't let you get away, with confident steps pushing you further and further out of the center of the training floor.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Duncan Idaho stand up from his place. Thinking back to your last training session, you shudder bitterly. "Never fight in anger" is easy to say, when you're not forced to marry, bed and sunsequently give children to the man you're fighting. 

Panting and sweating, you give Feyd Rautha your all, twirling in place, sliding on your feet. A different kind of choreography, which seems to work surprisingly well, with his almost animalistic force. Gurney taught you how to be powerful, how to land strikes which were as effective, as they were cunning. Duncan, on the other hand, taught you how to dance. So that's what you do.

Finally, you manage to grab at his free hand, locking your feet between his and bringing him closer to your blade. It stops just short of his artery, blocked by his dagger, the clash of metal reverberating through the halls. 

The smirk he gives you is beyond nasty, and forcefully, you push away from him, as if the very idea of skin to skin contact repulsed you. And it does, it truly does, especially now that adrenaline mixed with frustration boils in your head. 

- Again - you snarl his way, assuming your fighting stance.

- As my Lady commands - his voice has a natural growl to it, made even more prominent by the exertion of the fight, and he twists his body into a perversion of a curtsy.

This time you're the one to attack first, ignoring your menthor's words and relying on pure rage to guide your steps. A stab to his thigh, which he deflects with seemingly childish ease. Your tunic slips through his fingers, as you slide under his arm. Out of the corner of your eye you can see his blade, when he hides it into his belt. Confusion hits you suddenly. Was he giving up, why was he hiding his weapon? None of the questions get answered, as a foot curls itself around your ankle.

Your balance leaves you with a gasp of surprise, and soon, your back is on the floor, Feyd Rautha following closely behind. Your heated gaze meets his, as one hand wrenches the blade from your grasp and pins both your arms above your head. The other one supports his weight, as he hovers above you, light bleeding behind him in an unfitting image of a halo. 

Your chest heaves, sweat rolling down your collarbones, and the Harkonnen doesn't even try to hide the way his gaze follows a stray drop of salt, as it disappears between your breasts. 

- You fought well - he complements in a hushed tone, and you writhe desperately under his body.

The night terror rears its ugly head again, as you feel his tighs press onto your sides, almost as if he wants to shape your flesh into the imprint of his body.

- I think I prefer you like this - he whispers, face coming closer to the exposed column of your neck - You belong under me. 

That's what does it. Your face twists into an expression of equal parts disgust, and fury. You won't give him this victory, you'd rather die. Legs tangle themselves around his calves, and you use all your strength fueled by the burning need to fucking hurt him. 

The world spins, two bodies rolling on the floor, and suddenly you're on top of him, legs biting into his hip bones. While one hand supports your weight on his naked shoulder, the other finds the dagger hidden in his belt. The surprised gasp, which leaves his lips feels like music to your ears, and you don't even try to fight the awful smirk splitting your mouth.

The shield on his neck glows an angry red, as you press the tip of the blade down, right under his bobbing Adam's apple. He swallows, for just a second letting you see the mask of self confidence slip. He has quite long eyelashes, you notice, as his eyelids flutter, a low hum reverbating through his chest. Eyes that are neither blue nor completely black drink in the sight of you. The halo of your hair, the snarl on your lips, the curve of your waist, where one of his hands settle. 

Missing all of this, too enraptured by your own fury, you push the blade further down until it pricks his alabaster skin. He hisses through his blackened teeth and you want more, you want him to scream. A thin streak of red begins to flow down his neck, and God help you, it looks like art. 

His grip on your waist tightens, all five fingers digging into your flesh through the thin tunic. Feyd Rautha bares his teeth at you in a cruel smile, one that makes you question whether you're the one in control.

And then his hips roll upwards. 

A barely noticable movement, easily mistaken for a spasm of the muscles, but you know better. You can read it all from his expression, his pupils blown wide, the quickened breaths of air slipping past his lips. From the quickly hardening length pressing against your inner thigh. 

Your stomach flutters with a well known feeling, and that terrifies you more than any pain-motivated erection ever could. Because he sees it, he sees the beginning flames of desire taking root in your center, and the realization looks like ecstasy on his face. Humiliation washes through you, fills you completely. There is no awkward blush on your face, no. All you feel is white, freezing terror, as all your defences seem to crumble all at once.

Like a scared animal, you're off of him in a split-second, and he doesn't chase you, as you all but run from the training barracks. Doesn't have to, he already has everything he needs. 

[queers-gambit]

Tell Me Every Terrible Thing

[ part one of two ]

prompt: you embark on a secret but passionate affair with the Rogue Prince, and when his wife, Rhea Royce, passes away, he chooses you to wed next - a decision that angers his niece and changes history.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!Hightower!reader only description given: red hair

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 5.6k+

note: what the fuck is this, Cherry? also two parts 'cause author gets carried away!

warnings: show spoilers, cursing, author has small bouts of feministic ideas, author also really likes the "little birds" storyline (let her live!), wonky brain is wonky, i think hurt and comfort, angst, very mild NSFW (brief female receiving oral), technically alternative timeline 'cause this goofy-ass author has an overactive imagination, #icanmakehimworse, another reader-episode-insert (this warning is for the fucking losers in my inbox).

part two: "Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, And Let Me Love You Anyway," - Edgar Allan Poe

"How angry do you think he'll be with me?"

You offered your best friend, The Realm's Delight, Crowned Heir to the Iron Throne, Princess Rhaenyra, a unamused, stale look. Sarcastically, you replied, "Oh, come now, Nyrie, why would your father be angry? It couldn't be because you rejected every suitor His Grace put before you, or even how you abruptly ended the tour with two months remaining. What father would be angry after that?"

She groaned, "I know, I know, you don't have to be so right all the bloody time. I just... I couldn't do it anymore, you saw what it was like," her head bowed and you knew the girl was truly overwhelmed by her 'job' picking a suitor.

"This was no easy feat to arrange, Princess," you spoke diplomatically, aware of the ship's crew dotting around the royal ship. "Our fathers went through much difficulty to ensure this tour's success, Princess, and I'd imagine neither will be thrilled by our early arrival."

"But it's just - "

"I know," you soothed with a knowing, sympathetic smile. Your arm extended around her, her head dropping to your shoulder for comfort. "In an ideal world, women would have a real say in their futures. Perhaps, that is what you're meant to do, Nyrie... Perhaps you're meant to break this wheel, give the other half of humanity a fighting chance against the men who have long suppressed us. Being heir is a monumental stereotype to shatter, but most women are not born into royalty and have nobody protecting or defending them."

She picked her head up to stare at you for a single moment, then nodded slowly, "That's a lot of pressure."

"Less if you pick a respectable man to help you lead," you advised softly, reaching to caress her cheek briefly. "You're to be Queen, Nyra, which means you need a King Consort that the common folk will respect, who will play his part in the courts to come. I know it's not ideal, my friend, but it's not meant to be - it's meant to be strategic." You paused, adding, "Similar to Ali marrying your father, yes? That was a strategic move on my father's end. Now it's up to you to chose your own match, to plot your own strategy."

"Who would you see me marry?"

"In truth? I'm unsure if anyone would fit the bill perfectly, so, I don't know who I could see you with. Definitely someone smart, though."

She only hummed, sighing deeply and making you frown. Before another word could be said, there came a distant screech that sounded all too familiar - though you refused to let it show that you knew this particular dragon's sound.

Nyra moved away from the ship's railing to stare longingly up into the sky, and about a minute later, without visible sight of any threat, Ser Criston Cole was shouting, "Take cover!"

And then, like a bird swooping to snatch a fish, a crimson dragon descended from the cover of clouds - seemingly materializing from nowhere. The large, long, slithery beast with wings knocked into the ship's main mast; jolting everyone on board enough to topple over.

You tried to stabilize the Princess, but you lost balance and dropped to your knees as Cole rushed to help Rhaenyra to her feet. When able, you looked to the sky; grinning to yourself as you recognized the retreating Blood Wyrm. Seeing the distinct form of Caraxes made you giddy with anticipation, however, that was short lived as you clocked Rhaenyra's gaze of awe and wonder.

It seems she was excited for her uncle's return, too. Though, it won't be till later that you learn the extent of her adoration.

Less than an hour later, the ship was docking and you escorted Princess Rhaenyra from aboard; her guards surrounding you both as you trekked to the Red Keep. "Just... Perhaps try to stay invisible," you advised your friend, arm-in-arm. "The King won't be pleased if you interrupt court, even just by being there. With luck, we won't be noticed."

She agreed softly, continuing on. She started fiddling with her necklace, the piece of Valyrian Steel jewelry that her uncle, Daemon, had gifted her years ago before Queen Aemma passed away. Your lover had told you the Princess was owed a piece of her Valyrian history, and since he could not gift a sword to a young lady, the necklace was chosen, crafted, and gifted.

When you returned to the Red Keep, it was just in time for court to be called to session and your friend was all too eager to join. "Nyra," you warned, hand in hers.

"It's all right," she assured, "come, it must be Daemon - "

"No, I should return to my chamber. Don't piss your father off too much," you warned her with a smirk, watching her grin in response, squeeze your hand, and then file into the Throne Room with the other members of court.

You retreated to your old room, sighing in relief when you discovered nothing was disturbed. "My Lady!" A voice gasped at the open door. You glanced over, smiling at Milah, your usual handmaiden, and opening your arms when she rushed forward. "You're not supposed to be back yet! Oh!" She tutted, looking you over. "I'll get your bed made and - "

"No, it's fine - "

"Nonsense, let me do this," she insisted, already busying around the room. "I was wondering why they were bringing things into the foyer - must be all the Princess' luggage, hmm?"

"Yeah," you sighed, helping her strip the bed and change the sheets. "It was strange," you admitted, "the men, I mean, and the way they all competed for her hand in marriage."

"Did you expect anything else?"

"I did not think they'd honestly kill one another. Though it was more so their pride than the Princess they fought over."

Milah smirked, "Sounds about right. Well, what of you? Anyone catch your eye?"

"Of course not," you sighed a little sadly.

"Still hung on the Prince, aren't you, my Lady?"

"Perhaps," you mused.

You spent the better part of an hour gossiping with Milah before she had to go grab a few things, but promised she'd send your belongings up as soon as possible. You thanked her, walked her out, assuring you were just going to get a bath or something, and just as you shut and locked your chamber door, gasped when a pair of hands seized your waist.

"Daemon!" You hissed when you saw the short, white locks of your surprise guest. "The bloody fuck is wrong with you?" You demanded, turning in his grip to shove your hands into his chest. "What're you doing here? Want to get us caught?"

"Three years," he grit, gathering you in his arms to heave upward and force your legs around his waist if you wanted to keep balance, "three fucking years I've been gone - away - missing you, do not deprive me a moment more."

"Someone will come looking," you whispered, caressing his face as your forehead met his. "And perhaps I want a moment to just look at you, 's been years," you breathed. "You cut your hair," you commented, running your hands through the short strands.

"I cut my hair," he agreed softly, just holding you close and tight.

"I like it... But I'll miss braiding it."

"I will, too," he admitted. He nuzzled closer, inhaling your neck sharply, boldly licking a flat tongue up your pulse point to make you shudder lightly.

"Daemon," you whispered, pulling his head back so you could look in his eyes, beaming, "I missed you, too."

"Viserys is arranging a lunch for my return," he informed, turning so he could approach your newly-made four-poster bed; dropping you flat on your back with a grin. "Which roughly translates into only allotting a few minutes to make up for lost time."

"We will have time later - "

"I overheard Viserys saying he and Otto intend to take evening tea with you regarding the Princess' return from tour," he eased, reaching to spread your legs, bunching your skirts. "But I will call upon you tomorrow? Yes? Officially?"

"If you insist," you teased, letting him finally descend to smash his lips against yours. In truth, you were used to his empty promises of 'calling on you officially' because of his marriage to Lady Royce, but it was his way of telling you without words that he wished it was you instead of Rhea.

Daemon groaned, melting into your form; breathing heavily. "I've missed you past words," he whispered, nuzzling your nose with his. "But for now, I just need a taste - "

"We don't have time - "

"We'll be fast. Tell me, love," he nipped your pouting lips, soothing his tongue over the puckered skin, "have you taken another in my absence?"

"Of course not," you hissed in offense.

"Good," he nodded, kissing you sweetly.

"Need I ask?"

"There were no concubines," he mused, "though, they were offered, I did not accept. So, we'll be quick - faster than quick," he promised, pawing at your undergarments and exposing your dampening cunt to his sight. "I'll take my time with you later, but for now, I need this," he all but seethed before diving tongue-first into your core.

His spit mixed with your arousal, creating a slippery mess.

"Shit," you hissed, grabbing his shorter hair as his tongue flattened to lap at your entrance, dripping in your essence. One of his hands held your thighs apart for his access, the other releasing his cock from the pair of breeches he wore. Daemon groaned at the taste of you, lapping wildly like a man starved, and stroking his bare cock in rhythm with his ministrations.

It truly took no time at all once he found your clit and sucked mercilessly, the hand holding your thighs now extended up to paw roughly at your tits. Alternating his tongue around your sloppy cunt added to your heightening pleasure, swirling his tongue as he bobbed and shook his head - making an absolute mess, and causing your climax to shatter your mind and soul.

Your legs twitched, spine curled, stomach contracted as your arms quivered from the rush of adrenaline; hand slapped over your mouth to keep your moans to a minimum. You grabbed his hair so tightly, he groaned in mock pain; legs then contracting to a suffocating grip around his ears and head while Daemon met his own end, spending in his hand whilst milking you for all you had.

He panted with satisfaction when he pulled back, grinning at you in mischief when you released your hold on him. "Good fuckin' girl," he praised, standing to his feet only to slither over top of you. "Like not a day's gone by, huh?" He whispered, kissing you messily, smearing your cum on your tongue; grinding his bare cock into your recovering core to make you shudder. "Take a moment, then get ready," he whispered. "I expect to see you at the celebrations... Wear that dress I got you for your fifth-and-twentieth nameday," he smirked, adding, "if you'd so please, my darling."

You chuckled, "You magically learned manners during the war?"

"Perhaps," he mused, pecking your lips again.

"Hey, Daemon?"

"What is it, my sweet one?" He asked, seeing the sincerity in your eyes and hearing the seriousness in your voice - something in his heart jumping.

"Would you tell me about it all later? The war, I mean? Would you tell me what you've endured?"

"I do not think it's a tale befitting a lady's ears."

"Please? I wish to know..."

"Then I will tell you," he promised, "but only if you wear that dress."

Your eyes rolled in humor as Daemon stood. You watched him wipe his cum on a spare rag, tossing it away, and after one last kiss, was leaving out of the secret passageway's door. Taking another moment, you finally stood on weak legs and unlocked the main door, preparing how you could for your day before Milah returned.

After arriving at the luncheon, you made a beeline for your father, greeting him happily before explaining your surprise reappearance. He filled you in on that day's court, explaining that Prince Daemon was back; and you felt almost guilty for the way your skin was still set ablaze from your lover's earlier visit.

For all Otto's faults, he was still your father, and you felt guilty for sneaking around with Daemon behind his back. Your father ushered you off to mingle, insisting he was only there for the King; and no, he wasn't hungry. So, you parted ways with a chaste peck to your forehead; the feeling of his scratchy beard lingering on your guilt-riddled flesh.

"Sister, what a surprise!" Alicent happily distracted by greeting you with a bright grin. You adjusted course to approach the Queen, King, and newly-returned Prince. "Oh, what a lovely dress you've chosen," she complimented with ease, reaching for your hand. "You always do have the best eye for clothes, I feel as if need you to live in my wardrobe, tell me what to wear everyday."

"Thank you, Your Grace, I'd be honored," You smiled at her, holding her hand, looking to the others. "My King," you curtsied to Viserys, glancing at Daemon and bowing your head respectfully, "my Prince, how nice to see you, again. Welcome home."

"Thank you, my Lady," he smirked. "Might I welcome you home as well? I hear you've been gone from the Capital."

You hummed with a nod, "I was on tour with the Princess, my Prince. I've only arrived home today, as well - though not by dragonback."

He eyed you up and down, offering, "I must agree with the Queen, my Lady, that is a lovely dress you've chosen."

You pet the black material, smiling genuinely, "Thank you, my Prince. It's one of my favorites."

"I can see why, given how beautiful you look," he flirted, and from behind you and Alicent, you could hear your father scoff.

"Thank you," you whispered. "What conversation did I rudely interrupt before?"

"Oh, nothing of importance," Daemon told you, looking to his brother and your sister.

"Because we spoke of how Daemon, here, was always Mother's favorite," Viserys grinned. "Do you want to know, my Lady? About how much Mother adored Daemon?" He asked you, his little brother trying to drone over him - but Viserys was determined to tell you the examples he could think of regarding his brother's favoritism.

You giggled from both Viserys' stories and Daemon's evident embarrassment.

However, almost awkwardly, on Alicent's other side, Princess Rhaenyra approached the group and stood amongst you. You knew the King must be unhappy with his daughter, but did not voice any opinion since you were not the source of disappointment at the moment. Instead, you listened to the King's complimenting words to his brother; thinking it was interesting that Daemon was so egotistical and yet, flushed under his brother's praise. Princess Rhaenyra waited until a natural lull to tell Daemon, "Congratulations on your victory."

It was awkward as Viserys just glared at her, Rhaenyra's expression falling short. Daemon covered smoothly, "Thank you, Princess."

Trying to save the tension, your sweet sister offered, "Perhaps Prince Daemon would care for a tour of the gallery? He hasn't yet seen the new tapestries gifted to you by Norvos and Qohor."

Viserys nodded and whispered, "Oh, oh," mockingly. He asked his brother, "Would you like to see the tapestries?" But by the end, he broke character and laughed with his brother; the latter who whom you knew spat on trivial things - such as tapestries and such. Through their laughter, Viserys proclaimed to his wife, "He has no interest in such things!"

"But thank you for the offer, sister," you smiled at her, trying to reassure her when her husband laughed in her face. "The tapestries are very beautiful, you've chosen a grand place to display them. I saw them on my way here."

"I'd like to see them," Rhaenyra jumped in, seemingly to Alicent's aid - something she'd not done in an age considering the tension between them. You just smiled politely, seeing the way Viserys dropped his grin when he looked at his daughter with distain while the rest of you looked away sheepishly.

"Then you should not deprive yourself."

Rhaenyra offered a pained, pursed smile, "I shall enjoy them alone."

You, Alicent, and Daemon all stared after Rhaenyra with varying degrees of pity as she walked away to sit solemnly by herself on a distant bench while Viserys went on about his and Daemon's youth; over Daemon being their mother's favorite. However, Alicent excused herself to follow the saddened Rhaenyra, perhaps to offer the Princess comfort in her father's anger. The King looked ready to protest, but instead just shook his head in disappointment.

Viserys turned you and Daemon away from the sight of the girls, showing off the Godswood in bloom; your father approaching you three stiffly. "Your Grace," he bowed to Viserys, then nodded in resepct, "my Prince. Daughter," he smiled, trying to instigate, "how was tour with Princess Rhaenyra?"

"Oh, as eventful as a Royal Tour can be," you smiled, deflecting, "though I must admit, while seemingly exciting at some parts, I'm sure it pales terribly in comparison to the Prince's adventures in the Stepstones." Viserys smirking broadly at your redirection. "I do wonder, what brought the war to an end? We've heard rumor, but surely the Prince might know for sure what brought the Triarchy down?"

"Surely," The King nodded, looking to Daemon expectedly.

The Rogue Prince smirked and readjusted his stance, deflecting, "Perhaps a conversation for later."

"Oh, come now, brother!"

"Your Grace," Otto interrupted, "I do apologize, but there are matters at hand that require your attention. The Tully's still - "

He sighed and waved your father off, "Yes, yes... Well," Viserys nodded, "I'll call upon you both later."

"Your Grace," you instantly curtsied.

"Your Grace," Daemon bowed right after. Viserys smiled and nodded back at you both, patted his brother's shoulder, turned, and when he walked away, Otto followed with a single look to you and Daemon.

"Daughter," he bid curtly - and you read between the lines. He really wanted to say, "Do not linger around the Prince."

When the King moved, his usual procession of advisors, guards, and entourage followed right after. You sighed as almost all of the Godswood cleared out, Daemon eyeing you as he readjusted his stance; subtly reaching out to pet your hand with his fingers.

"Daemon," you warned quietly.

"Nobody is watching us," he smirked. "You look beautiful, love. I'll have to buy you more dresses, you wear them so well."

"I cannot believe I will not see you tonight," you whispered with a pout.

"I will call on you tomorrow," he reminded.

You opened your mouth, but another voice answered. "Sister," Alicent called, you looking over and smiling innocently. You caught sight of Princess Rhaenyra glaring at her uncle, but didn't think much of it.

"I look forward to your tales from the Stepstones," you told him calmly, offering a curtesy.

He took your hand, pressing a soft kiss to the back, "I look forward to any time spect together, my Lady."

You hummed in contentment before stepping away, instantly taking Alicent's arm when close enough. "What was that about? Daemon looks so smitten!" She whispered with a growing grin.

"He was being polite," you whispered back, "and simply being Daemon - you know how he is. He's got three years of mischief to make up for."

"I see," she giggled. "He's quite handsome with the short hair, isn't he? It suits him well."

"I have to agree," you gossiped. "I can see why the ladies of court have missed him so."

Your younger sister giggled, smiling at you, offering, "I've missed you greatly. Come... I wish to hear of your time away."

"Oh, sister, please, I've only just returned."

"But... Wouldn't you tell me before the King?" She whispered.

You paused, then nodded, "Got me there, sister-dearest."

"We'll take tea together," she decided, leading you around the Keep until she saw a familiar face she knew. "Talya, my sister and I wish to take tea in the gardens, please. Privately, of course, so do not announce it," she directed the handmaiden. "We'll be in the gazebo in the rose gardens, bring tea, sandwiches, and my sister's always loved those peach crumbles?"

"I know the dessert," she nodded, smiling at you. "Can I interest you, Your Grace, in anything specific?"

"No, but bring enough for us both. Come, sister."

You three parted ways, Alicent leading you to the gardens as promised. She dismissed anyone in the area, even telling her guards to wait at the front hedges to give you ideal privacy while deeper in the roses at the gazebo. While sitting, you exchanged gossip about what happened while you were away, Alicent happy to catch you up because she was happy to finally have a friend, even if it were a sister, back in her corner.

You were happy, too.

While you loved Rhaenyra, the tension between her and Ali made you feel in the middle despite both parties assuring you "you weren't". Nyra was a good friend, your best, even! But it was something about your sister that was calming and assuring. She was trustworthy to a fault, but she was still your strongest pillar.

As Talya dressed your table with tea, lemon water, sandwiches, fruits, and other foods (including the peach crumbles), you giggled at Ali's retelling of whatever failed proposals occurred this past season you were away. When alone, at last, Ali turned to you in her padded chair and asked, "Tell me in truth, how was the tour? Why did you return early?"

"In truth, sister, vying men made the Princess uncomfortable. She did not need the two months more, she knew she was unhappy with the men so far presented to her."

Alicent sighed, "So, who does she intend to marry?"

"Yes," a new voice agreed, you both jumping in shock and looking up to see Viserys approaching with your father behind him. "Who does my daughter intend to wed, Lady Hightower?"

"Your Grace," you uttered, both you and Alicent standing in respect to bow your heads.

"Please, please," he permitted you both to sit, taking the lone chair across the table as your father remained standing. "I only wish for the unfiltered truth. I know what is said, I know what is reported, I know..." He sighed, "I know what my daughter might say, but please, Lady Hightower, what is the truth of it?"

"The truth, Your Grace, is that Rhaenyra was overwhelmed. Perhaps it was too long for her that she eventually, I'm not sure, shut down? She did not care towards the end which men was presented, she was overwhelmed with the options and pace at which everything moved."

"Kings and Princes before her have done the same, many Queens and Princesses embarking on their tours to find proper suitors," Otto reminded. "Why was this different, my Lady?"

"Because she is the first," you reminded. "Never before has a woman been named heir - she holds a different responsibility. Perhaps having everything thrown at her was too much, she has to filter through lesser men that would be King Consort. Nobody stood out, she became discouraged, and honestly, Your Grace?" You spoke earnestly, "I think it just made her sad. She did not want to disappoint you by choosing a man not worthy of being her King, so, she would rather face your anger in coming home early."

Alicent frowned but nodded to herself.

Otto adverted his eyes.

Viserys looked dejected, but sighed, "I see... Thank you for your words, my Lady, truly, you've always been a trustworthy advisor to the Queen, Princess, and I."

"It's the least I can do, Your Grace, since you and Queen Aemma - you - you were so kind to me when Mother passed. And Rhaenyra - to both Alicent and I - she was a true friend. I am in debt to you, Your Grace, and whatever I can do, be it just a simple different perspective, I am happy to provide."

"Well," he considered, "in the spirit of your unfiltered perspective, who would you see Rhaenyra marry?"

You blinked in shock, "Oh, Your Grace, I-I am not qualified to say."

"You serve as my Master of Whispers, do you not?" He smirked. "Speak, please."

You sighed deeply. With a small gulp, you blinked twice, then admitted, "I do not think my opinion matters, but... It would make sense to marry her to Ser Laenor Velaryon, would it not? He's a warrior who survived the Stepstones, is of Valyrian stock and blood, rides the dragon, Seasmoke. He's kind, brave, true, unmarried, heir to Driftmark. I think when it comes to filling the position of King Consort, Ser Laenor Velaryon would make a fine candidate."

Apparently, this was all Viserys needed to hear.

You could not sleep that night. You could not explain why, but something foul was in the air and prevented you from drifting off. So, you chose to browse your private library, select a literary favorite, and stroll the deadened halls of the Red Keep; reading by flickering torch light.

Good thing you were up and out, because one of your Little Birds chirped at you from the shadows. You looked around to see nobody in the hall, but another chirp directed your attention to a darkened alcove. "Hmm, oh, Kaela," you hummed, approaching her slowly and bending at the waist. "What is it, child?"

"I came as fast as I could."

"What's wrong?"

"I've seen something - something you'll want to know," she glanced up and down the hall, "but not anyone else."

"Come," you whispered, pushing her further back into the dark and sheltering yourselves safely. Once knelt before her, you asked the child, "All right. What is it you have seen, little one?"

"Do not get angry, my Lady..."

"I promise I won't," you spoke softly, confused - you never got angry at your Little Birds... Why start now?

"I-I saw... I saw the Prince Daemon and... Princess Rhaenyra."

You nodded slowly, asking quietly, "Where?"

"In the city, in a pleasure house."

You blinked, "And what were they doing?"

"What grown-ups do."

"I see. They were coupling?"

She shrugged, "No, just kissing, but it stopped fast. He left her there."

"He left her there? In the pleasure house?"

The little girl nodded. "The Prince looked sad... When the Princess tried to kiss him again, he pulled away... Then he left."

"Where did he go? After?"

She blinked, frowning, "My brother, Grenn, said he saw him at the pubs - but he was always on the move, very drunk. I came here right away."

"Good girl," you smiled, offering her whatever Gold Dragons from the pouch you usually kept on your person under your robe for times like this. "Where will you be tomorrow evening? I will bring you and Grenn supper."

She smiled, "We can meet you at the dock!"

"The dock?"

"He likes watching the boats."

"The docks, then. By the Fisherman's Pier?"

"No, Grenn like the Harper's Pier. They're not there around supper, they're still out at sea."

"Harper's Pier for supper," you agreed. "Go on."

The little girl looked around before scampering off down a different passageway and you stood from your knelt position with a stony look of tentative contemplation on your face. With a deep breath, you did the only thing you thought you could... You went to your father.

With a rapid knock at his chamber door, it took a moment or two before he was opening it - still dressed. "What is it, daughter?" He asked gruffly. "It's late, this should wait till morning."

"The castle is about to wake - "

"I know and I've much to attend to - "

"Father," you hissed, glancing up the hall.

He sighed and let you in, "What is it?"

"I carry scandalous news," you muttered, his door's lock echoing around you. "About the Princess Rhaenyra."

He turned to you sharply, you taking a step back in surprise. "You... Know?"

"About her sneaking around in a pleasure house?"

Otto frowned, "Do you know with who?"

You could not tell him, so you answered, "No, just that she was seen in disguise."

"Who told you this?"

"One of my Birdies."

"All right," he decided, nodding to himself, "thank you, daughter, for reporting this. I will... I will figure out what to say to the King."

"Should you say anything?"

"I'll figure it out - but now we both know."

You nodded, "So you knew before I came?"

"I was awoken an hour ago to hear this news."

You nodded slowly, "Then I will leave you to it."

"Thank you," he whispered, letting you peck his cheek in parting before slipping out of his chambers. With nothing left to do or anything else to say, you went back to your chambers as to limit your exposure to the castle's tenants.

The less that could say they saw you this night, the better.

Once safe in your chambers with a locked main door, you could do nothing else but (over)think, wishing to all the Seven Gods you didn't know what you knew. Information and knowledge was vital to maintain power, this is true, but it also made you dangerous - also a target. The more you knew, the bigger the target.

It was only a few hours after dawn when the secret passage doors to your chamber opened. You were braiding your hair, ignoring the man you knew to have the only balls to use that door - especially now.

"I've always wondered, if we had children, would they have white hair or waves of fire, like you? Perhaps something between?"

"Fuck off, Daemon."

"So, you've heard," he sighed deeply. "Won't you even look at me?"

"I can't stand the very thought of you right now, nor the actual sound, I'll lose my stomach if I have to look at you."

"Let me tell you the truth," he begged, "before I have to leave the Keep, let me tell you the truth. Let Viserys and everyone have their ideas and opinions, their lies and slander, but let me tell you!"

"Excuse me?" You asked, whirling around in your seat to glare at him fully. "Viserys banished you, again?"

"He did... Back to the Vale."

You scoffed, "Good... Your Lady wife awaits you."

"Viserys thinks I've sullied Rhaenyra's virtue. I do not need you thinking the same, so, please, let me tell you what happened - no matter how uncomfortable, please, let me tell you the truth."

"What difference does it make?"

"I can't have you thinking something more occurred. Was I tempted? Yes, but I refrained. Did I touch her? A little - but not how you think."

You sighed, shaking your head, "I don't care, you're returning to your wife in the Vale, and I will be rid of you. No matter for how long this time, you will be gone - "

"For a time, yes, but I intend to return for you."

"No, I think I'll let Father make me a match. I despised the North, it was too cold, so the handsome Cregan Stark is out. I don't mind Dorne, perhaps a Martel to marry? Or even a Tully of Riverrun?"

"Do not speak such atrocities to me."

"You're one to talk! Your niece, Daemon? The girl I consider my closest friend? You couldn't just find that whore you like and be satisfied with her? Couldn't wait a single day, could you? Huh? How fucking pathetic!"

"Perhaps you are not as close with Rhaenyra as you thought," he tisked, making you feel disarmed. He spent the next hour and a half explaining to you what happened the previous night, and despite your disgust, you just listened.

Knowledge was power.

"I will return," he sighed at the end, "and in that time, you can make your own decisions if you want me or not. But I will return and I will have you, if you will have me, and this foolishness will be behind us."

"I'll give you a single year. I will not wait for you longer than that," you whispered, tears streaming down your face. "I can't stand that you've done this, but I will wait one single year for you to find a way out of your marriage and back to me. Any longer than that, and I will simply move on. I do not want to live my whole life in the Red Keep, and the truth of it is, I cannot live in the Princess' shadow any longer. One year, Daemon."

"One year," he nodded, stepping closer. "My love, please - "

"Do not assume to touch me. Not after you've touched her," you snapped, stepping away. "Get out, I need to be alone, you have been banished - you need to go, you cannot be seen here." Your eyes rolled, muttering, "Probably have to go collect your whore for this banishment, too."

"Not this time," he smirked, "this time, I leave with my promise that I will return for you, my sweet Lady Hightower."

"Fuck off, you perverted Prince Daemon," you sassed, watching him slip out the door; shutting you in an echoing silence. Your heart ripped itself apart, making you wonder what the fuck you had done to deserve getting caught in such a scandalous affair. But you knew, in your heart, you'd do anything for Daemon - the thought sickening your stomach as you pondered how far this would all go.

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

i look soooooo hot in a wetsuit btw

[animeshotsh]

A doggie!! | Various x Kid!Reader |

Warnings: Fluff - Curses - HH violence - Alastor hates dogs - Lucifer its all up to bother Alastor - grammar mistakes - may do pt2 -

Charlie could not hold her smile as she walked down the streets of hell, a big box in her hands and a nervous Vaggie at her side.

"Charlie...love, do you think this is a good idea? Vaggie asked again for the 10th time that day

Charlie who was already planning on how to give you your gift stopped to look at her gilfriend.

"We have been over our head with the hotel and the new patrons. No one has the time to play with (Y/N)...." Charlie said, memories of your sad self leaving the room after seeing everybody was working on something.

"I know but do you think a....dog would help them? They are too young..."

"This" Charlie exclaimed with the biggest and proud smile on her face shoving the box in Vaggi's face "its the most well trained and behaved Cerberus!! I know this race i used to have one, they are loyal and friendly and.."

"And they breath fire, do you really think (Y/N) its going to be alright with one?"

~☆~☆~☆~☆

Turns out, you were even better than right.

Amazing one would say.

Charlie let out sounds of happyness as she snapped pictures of you and the little and chubby cerberus. Both of you currently playing inside your room.

Well one of them, since Alastor and Lucifer insisted on you having a room close to each one of them.

"Its really mine Sis?" You asked giving the dog some trears then rubbing its belly.

"Yes! We have been working too hard in the hotel and i know you must have feel lonely, but now you have this frien by your side"

The shadow from alastor and flying lamb from Lucifer where at the side giving Charlie offended looks.

~☆~☆~☆~☆

No one was ready for how was going to be with you and a cerberus.

First, Lucifer almost had a heart attack when he went to your room to get you and saw the puppy who in return sent a blast of blue fire towards him.

You had to calm down the creature that had turned big when being suprised by the hell's king.

"Hey hey!! Its fine its my dad"

"(Y/N) GET AWAY FROM THAT THING"

Of coruse his screams alerted Charlie who went as fast as she could to see her father sending glares towards your cerberus (when did it got so big?) And you trying to calm it down.

After Charlie explained and Lucifer calmed down so did the dog. Returning to its puppy size and now running in circles, not a single sign that it was the same beast from minutes before.

~☆~☆~☆~

Alastor hated it. And the dog hated Alastor back.

When he heard you had got a dog Alastor was ready to try and get the thing out of the hotel.

Maybe he could get you a fish....yeah that sounded better.

But no. The moment Alastor tried to get that dog it turned six feet tall and growled at him.

And no, Alastor was not suprised and he was ready to fight it.

But that thing was more intelligent, when it hear you were coming it went back to its puppy size and started crying. And you just happened to be around the corner.

"Cerberus? Uncle? What happened?"

Oh that fucker played Alastor so well, he could see the dog smiling and wanted nothing more than to squish it.

"Oh Dear! Looks like i scared it, maybe its not as strong as it seems" Alastor joked getting a low growl.

"Nono! Cerberus its so strong and gets big!! It even let dad, sis and I ride on its back" you explained while petting each head. "Maybe you can come with me? I promise you wont fall"

Like hell he would let himself be on top of that thing. But he could not tell you that so he just smiled "maybe another time, lets go and listen to some jazz while i work on my program"

"Can cerberus come?"

At the question Alastor's eye twitched "of course it can"

~☆~☆~☆~☆

Lucifer was in cloud nine after hearing at dinner that Cerberus had pissed Alastor's studio making the radio demon let out static noise and almost stabbing the king.

You were so sorry almost crying your eyes out making Alastor stop from breaking the dogs necks.

So new rule! No dogs in his radio station. And no dogs in his room.

You know what? No dogs near him.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~

The only time Lucifer and Alastor agreed on something: you spent too much time with the dog.

Sleep? With the dog. And no one could be in the same bed with you and it. Why? Because that thing would get bigger on purpose to prevent someone from stealing you.

The only one who could be with you and it was Charlie. Why? No one knew but if you were out your room the only other demon near you and your dog was Charlie.

She would prepare sleep overs with you and cerberus, Vaggie would join too, and the dog never reacted towards them. It even let itself be pet and kissed.

But with Lucifer? Yeah no. Even if it did let him ride on its back it was still not so friendly towards him. The dog even glared when Lucifer claimed you and him needed to go and could not bring it.

And Alastor had a personal war. Everytime you were not looking he would snap his fingers to try and make the dog leave. Nothing even worked.

"A truce, we get the dog out" a drunk Lucifer said one night to an equal drunk Alastor.

"I accept, i cant deal with that thing any longer"

"Well, it pissing your studio was something..."

"Haha, dont forget when it took your hat" Alastor bite back.

"HAHAHA well at least it likes me a bit"

"You must smell like it"

"FUCK YOU"

[nina-renmen]

Yandere Hybrid Team 141

I’ve been seeing posts like this and thought I would jump on the bandwagon. The idea of yandere hybrid 141 is not my idea but this specific scenario is.

Summary: Team 141 stumbles upon y/n. Thinking that she’s small and fragile they attempt to ‘take advantage’ of her only to figure out she’s a polar bear hybrid. (Polar bear hybrid was chosen because they actively hunt humans.)

Team 141 had relocated, their base stationed in colder weather. Soap didn’t mind, considering he was merged with a wolf. He quite liked the snow and throwing snowballs at his captain.

Price was not amused at all. Given the fact that he was a grizzly bear hybrid his instincts told him to get ready to hibernate. Thus, leaving the male annoyed most of the time. A few times he almost lunged at Gaz for flying around so much in his little ‘battle’ with soap.

Gaz, being a harpy was the most human like out of all the men. The only thing that changed about him was his arms, meaning that the male usually stayed bundled up which in turn was given odd looks by ghost from time to time. But now ghost, an undead being began to get used to seeing his fellow teammate underneath two layers of clothing

Gaz was the first one to stumble upon you During one of his rounds he looked up from above, his eyes catching sight of you in the cold, crisp water. White, round ears were on top of your head. You must’ve been a panda hybrid. You didn’t seem dangerous at all.

A wicked grin crossed Gaz’s face. Swooping down, the sharp claws grabbing you. But before he could get far with you, you bared your teeth at him. Sharp canines covered in blood from your latest kill were flashed. Your sharp claws slashed his face before dragging him down into the water. Immediately your form switching making Gaz’s eyes widen in horror. Such a sweet, helpless looking girl was actually a polar bear hybrid. Your pupils dilated, jaws snapping at him as the beast seemed to foam at the mouth, getting ready to rip his throat out.

Price was the first to arrive, hearing Gaz’s screams and yells.

While Gaz was under you he saw a flash of brown. The harpy sitting up, wincing in pain at his broken leg but his eyes leaving the mangled leg and up towards the fight that was happening. The roars of both the bears attracting the attention of the rest of the team. Gaz has never seen price almost loose a fight before. Polar bears were already larger than grizzled bears but because you were a female you have a good two feet over him. Your fur was more adapted to the arctic waters but Price’s wasn’t, his movements were a tad bit slower than yours due to the below freezing temperatures. Just as the rest of team 141 arrived you were gone.

After the ‘fight’ Price scolded Gaz. Grumbling about how he shouldn’t have assumed what kind of hybrid you were. But based off of your human descriptions he didn’t blame Gaz for trying to snatch you up.

Price only had minor injuries. A couple of gashes and bruises. It would leave some scars but nothing too serious. On the other hand Gaz’s leg was broken. The gash on his face had left a nasty scar. Ghost only mocked the younger male, telling him to suck it up and to not do dumb shit.

Soap had the second encounter with you. After a few months Gaz was able to walk again. But Soap was to accompany him as they did their rounds.

“That’s her.” Gaz whispered, crouching down making Soap follow suit. The wolf hybrid peeking around the corner to see you. He couldn’t believe that you were the one that did all that damage. Granite it was in self defense but you looked so fragile and soft.

When y/n turned around she had a fish in her mouth. Her eyes immediately catching onto Soaps who had been careless when admiring y/n from a distance. Y/n’s gaze wasn’t threatening like what Gaz had described. She seemed curious.

Soap took this as a green light to fully come out. Gaz whispers to not falling on deaf ears. When soap began to get too close a growl came from y/n as she took a step back making her drop her fish. She had to look up at him, which she didn’t like.

After a few moments Soap gained her trust, picking up the dropped fish and slowly inching close to her. Y/n opened her mouth, taking the fish from his hand. Nuzzling her black button nose against his hand, a purr coming out of her but she stopped. A whiff of Gaz’s scent on Soaps hand making y/n pull away. “No! No, no, no! I’m friendly.” Soap exclaimed, putting his hands up. He needed to avoid all conflict. The only person that was able to take you down was captain price, he doubted that Ghost could take you down in your monster form. Soap knew he’d need to calm you down. Polar bears actively hunt humans, meaning Gaz and himself were on your lunch menu. But y/n only turned around leaving once more.

Now price’s encounter with you went a little bit different. The man went out to have a smoke. “That shit stinks.” A feminine voice came from behind Price. Turning around he seen your form crouched down, a wolf torn open in front of you. It was the same size as Soap in his monster form. Its guts spilled out, coating the white snow in its blood.

“Didn’t know you could talk.” Price muttered, breathing in the smoke from the cigar. His eyes taking in your form. You were fragile looking, just as Gaz said. Your big doe eyes could have fooled him.

Y/n didn’t respond, instead opting to rip out more chunks from the wolf with her jaws. Tearing into the predator that turned into her prey. “Ya’ hurt one of my men.” Price said loud enough for y/n to hear.

“That lousy excuse of a bird?” Y/n said as she ripped into the wolf. “Tell him to keep thinking with his dick. Maybe next time I’ll tear his throat open.”

Price chuckled, leaning back on the tree as he watched you eat. You were fiesty. The longer he stared at you the more the gears in his head turned. You had wide hips, perfect for carrying his cups. You looked healthy, a few scars hear and there but each one told a story.

Pushing himself off the tree he stalked towards you. A growl ripping through y/n’s throat as she make eye contact with Price.

“I ain’t gon take your food sweetheart.” Price said as he crouched down in front of you and your kill.

“I said that shit stinks. Put it out.”

“And if I don’t.”

“I’ll eat you before you can turn.”

The two looked at each other for a while. “I’m stronger and faster than you darlin’.”

“Not if I drown you in that water you won’t be.” Y/n shot back. Ah, so she’s caught on to his weakness. Price was considerably weaker in colder water temperatures. Especially if the waters were deep.

Needless to say, Price put out the cigar.

[reallyromealone]

DAY🎃 FIFTEEN🎃 MONSTER - Sidon

Warning

Male reader, nsfw, smut, monster fucking, feral Sidon, biting, double penetration, aggressive fucking

He was unfamiliar with Zora courting, the Hylian prince here on behalf of his elder sister for negotiations and hadn't realised that Sidon was courting him.

From foods to practically assisting him with /anything/ even if it was nonsense.

(Name) was just happy to spend time with the Zora.

(Name) was confused as he looked around the domain for any Zora to assist him but they all turned him away much to the Hylians confusion.

"Should we tell him?" A guard whispered to Bazz who shook his head "it's close to mating season, never get in the way of another Zora whose going to get their mate"

(Name) sighed and sat on the wet silver steps of the domain before spotting Sidon walking towards him "prince Sidon! Thank goodness you're here! I don't know why but every--WHOA!" (name) was lifted up and into sidons arms and carried off "Sidon! Why are you carrying me?!" (Name) said struggling before managing to sit up and eyes were wide at Sidons gaze, it was primal...

Feral.

"Sidon...?"(name) was confused as he was brought to a room within the deeper parts of the domain, into the mountains where the inner waterfalls and private areas were and dropped on blankets and pillows "what is this" (name) asked as sidons head tail wagged a bit "mate" he said simply and presented (name) with foods "oh! It's mating season... wait isn't that basically like marriage?" (Name) spoke to himself and the shark grew impatient as he grunted and (name) looked at the mating gift "I can't deny... I have feelings for you too my little shark"

It was a blur, one moment he was eating the fish Sidon presented him and the next he was held up above sidons as the Zora's large tongue stretched him as his claws were to sharp to stretch him, instead those clawed hands bruised (name)s hips.

"Oh goddesses! Mh! More- o-oh!" (Name) shook as he came and Sidon put him in his lap and (name) felt it, two large cocks pressed against his back and one rubbing against his stretched ass "big.... he whispered as the Zora prince nipped him, causing (name) to whine at the sensation and reached out to tentatively touch the large cocks, curious on how one would get in him.

Sidon growled in pleasure as the beast within him pushed both cocks in, no warning as (name) cried in pain but held on, knowing his mate was not in the right space of mind.

But god did it also feel so good.

(Name) cried in pleasure as he was held in the giant Zora's arms as both cocks fucked into him at a harsh pace, stretching him wonderfully as he held on for deer life, Sidon covering his smaller Hylian body in bites and claims "pupupup" he whispered as (name) bit his lip, he couldn't get pregnant but... he wouldn't dare say that right now "Kiss..." (name) whispered as Sidons Large tongue dove into his mouth and invaded everything and anything he could.

He felt helpess as he twitched in the Zora's and let Sidon fuck him like a common whore.

He couldn't count how many times he came but it wasn't enough for Sidon who pounded into him relentlessly before cumming hard, flooding him with cum and it getting everywhere.

Sidon licked any wounds on (name) before guarding his new mate, warding off any challengers who may be after (name).

The poor Hylian exhausted and barely coherent as he passed out.

[vnusoki]

MY LOVE, MINE, MINE, MINE. . .

ノsynopsis. His love was you, but you were gone.

ノtags. zhongli x reader, neuvillette x reader, xiao x reader. reader is dead. vague descriptions of how tho. a long time has passed. grief. mortal x immortal trope.

ノa/n. ahh. this trope is so sad, I just had to.

ZHONGLI had not missed a single anniversary since your death. He made it a tradition to always visit your favourite places in liyue. Not like he didn’t either way.

Some would say he was a heartbroken, lovesick fool for still being kept up with the death of someone who’d perished centuries ago. Zhongli had lived too many a life. He’d seen death more than any throughout the lands.

It shouldn’t have affected him as much as it did, but you’d captured who’s heart and very soul in your soft, loving hands and when they withered and died, you’d taken his heart with you.

To some place he couldn’t reach you. But he knew he’d meet you eventually nonetheless.

So Zhongli visited the places you once did, drank your favourite tea and visited your favourite sights in liyue because for as long as he would be alive, he wouldn’t ever forget you.

NEUVILLETTE had been a sea dweller long before he was the Iudex of fontaine. He roamed the vast expanse of the oceans surrounding the land, listening in on stories from harbour men and seeing ferocious beasts deep down in the belly of the water.

None had scared him. But surprisingly, you did. A mere mortal who’d hooked his heart and yanked it away from him like the fish you hunted at the lakes.

There was something about you he couldn’t shake off. Maybe that was the reason why, after decades of meeting at the same place, you’d stopped coming that neuvillette finally understood why.

Why you, a mortal , had done such an affect on him. He was too late to tell you, he found. Centuries later, he would mull over and think of what had been you, and he couldn’t stop the guilt from eroding him piece by piece.

If only he could’ve told you he loved you then.

XIAO never once let his guard down, neither for the foes he fought or the ones he would call comrades and friends. He isolated all from his heart and made it so as if he didn’t have one.

You were a mere villager. Yet still you had traversed the harsh terrain and the broken patchwork that was his heart and you’d mended the pieces that he thought would never be fixed.

Of course though. You were a mortal and you aged quicker than he did and in only the span of a few decades had you grown old and tired, unable to do anything.

It was only when you passed that xiao realised how much he should’ve said to you and now could never. How ironic was it that he fell for the very thing he wished to so desperately be?

© VNUSOKI 24 ! do not copy or repost my work !

[writingoddess1125]

You Cook For them even though you suck at it-

Buggy, Luffy, Zoro, Usopp, Shanks, Mihawk

Buggy

You you offer to cook for him he is hesitant. Buggy is actually a great cook and will take over making food for you if he catches you in the kitchens of the Big Top.

"I don't know about that (Y/N)-" He would say quickly as you smile at him.

"It will be fine I promise! I've gotten better!" No the fuck you hadnt- he shouldn't have trusted you with this when you set down a bowl of slop.

"Oh What the fuck (Y/N)!? What is this?! Why is it still moving?" He yelled poking some form of meat with a spoon and watching it twitch back.

"It's just rare!" You argue back. "Rare my ass!!" He yelled before forcing himself to take a bite.

He quite literally falls apart to the ground.

Luffy

Luffy would be excited that you offered to cook for him. Being too happy to ignore the weird smell from the kitchen and from the bowl you set down.

He quickly tucked in, eating away at the bowl until it was gone and smiling brightly at you.

"Thank you for the meal (Y/N)!" He said cheerfully, you smiled excitedly.

"Did it taste good?" He stares at you for a moment like he was thinking. "No it was pretty disgusting" you stare at him shocked.

"Why did you eat it then?" You question at his bluntness of willing to eat something gross.

"Cause you made it!" Eh Good enough-

Zoro

Is equally as bad as a cook as you- So when the two of you come together it only means chaos.

"Zoro im going make us a special meal!" You chime, watching him nod and follow along.

In the kitchen he drinks as he watches you attempt to cook. Even using his sword to cut up random vegetables and fruit. Once done it is a jet black color pouring out purple steam- He stares at it a bit afraid before taking a bite.

Zoro body would lock up- Like he had been hit with electricity. His eyes beginning to water and he grabbed the booze again to down if quickly- all of it very quickly.

"....That was awful-"

He manages to groan out as he rubbed his face.

Sanji

Will be head over heals for you, and when you offer to cook for him his whole body freezes- His eyes wide and practically screaming to not have this done-

"M-My Love! My Sweet! No need for that I can cook for us!" He insist sweat hitting his brow.

"No No, You cook for us every night! Let me do it!" You'd insist and go into his kitchen. It would quickly turn into a battle of if he loved food more then you- Once he sees you hold the knife wrong and damn near cut off a finger he steps in.

Shaking his head at this and taking the knife from you.

"Please dont- Love you um.. are cookingly challenged- I'm taking over"

Before he kicks you out of his kitchen.

Usopp

Usopp has actually pretty good taste in food, He enjoys food and has been heavily pampered by Sanji's cooking and food he be served when visiting Kaya.

So when you offer him food at first he's happy and talks about his experiences as a 'Chef' but when you bring down a half burned and half raw fish that still seemed to be twitching and some other odd trimmings that seemed to be stewed.

"Uhhh (Y/N)- you made this?"

He would question as he stared at the questionable plate.

"Yep!" Hearing your cheery voice he tries to sweet talk and lie his way around eating it at first. But once you insist he would nod and take a hefty bite. His face draining of all color as he chewed, forcing himself to swallow as he sits frozen.

"Usopp?-"

He ends up fainting-

Shanks

Shanks will try anything once, however he found out early on that you couldnt cook- While he never openly confronts you about it he does know damn well you shouldn't be near a kitchen.

Once you offer to cook for him he is jovial as normal and supportive. However when you bring out the bowl of- what looked like what a sea beast would vomit he started to sweat. Taking a big swig of his booze before taking a bite.

His whole body shivered in disgust and paled. Slowly trying to chew as he gave you a watery smile.

"It's alright It's Alright-"

Shanks said, his face turning purple as he tried to keep the food from coming back up as quickly as it came.

Mihawk

While it may be surprising but Mihawk is the pickiest of eaters- So when you say you made him a meal, He tries to hold himself back from making any comments before he's seen it.

'Maybe it's not that bad?...'

He thinks as he takes a seat at the dining room table. Waiting quietly as he hears you clattering in the kitchen- however he knew knew it would be unpleasant when the smell hits him. You step out cheery and happy as a massive bowl is set infront of him. His eyes widened at the sight- he had seen many horrible things in his life but nothing like this-

"Why is it that color?-" He would ask as you explained away that you didn't know the exact ingredients to make it so you improvised. Mihawk took a shaky breath and leaned down to give a sniff- once the fowl odor hit his nose he pushed the bowl back.

"(Y/N) Darling. You can't cook- I can't eat this... I love you dearly but whatever is in this bowl has been damned"

[seeingivy]

all american bitch

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

songs mentioned: glue song ft. clairo by beabadoobee and all american bitch by olivia rodrigo

previous part linked here

--

It’s increasingly warm – the atmosphere in the townhouse now that there’s nearly double the amount of people. There isn’t even enough room to sit, and you’re positive Levi must be having an aneurysm somewhere, from all the lap sitting and bodies sprawled across the floor, with nearly six conversations going on at once.

You eye them all from your vantage point in the kitchen, nursing your glass of water, as you watch all of them with your blood thrumming through your veins. 

You’re on the heels of all of it. And it’s all coming together. 

Eren joins you in the kitchen, Teddy hanging off the back of his neck, as he gives you a peachy smile. You reach forward and shake Teddy’s extended hand, his eyes nearly lidded with sleep and his cheek squished against Eren’s shoulder.

“I believe you have a song to perform.” Eren states. 

You look up at him, a soft glint in his green eyes, as you shake your head. Your request for Gabi was done…and Falco was all ready to perform it too, but the idea of performing for people outside of your inner circle, to even hint that you’re even involved in this type of thing beyond what you were planning for the award’s show was nerve wracking. 

You weren’t even sure if you really wanted to come back to all of this yet at the end of this. 

“Not in front of people, Eren. Next week…when they’re all gone.” you murmur. 

“Deal’s a deal, princess. Guitar or piano?” 

“How about my fist, down your throat?” you deadpan.  

Eren laughs, placing Teddy on the counter in front of the two of you, his head nearly lolling to the side from his tiredness. 

“You have some violent kinks, Y/N.” he whispers. 

You roll your eyes, before shoving your elbow into his ribs. You reach for Teddy, and he crawls into your arms, now drooling onto your shoulder as you rest your cheek against his curly brown hair. Eren looks down at you two and the sheer, tangible fondness in his eyes makes your skin heat. 

“These aren’t people. They’re your friends.” Eren states. 

You frown. 

“I know. I just think it’ll be weird. Imagine they all think I’m preparing to come back after the season is over, when I could damn well just go back to my recluse life after this. And what if my…voice cracks or something?” 

“Hey.” 

“I mean, recluse while still talking to you guys. Obviously.” 

Eren rests his chin on top of yours, the two of you watching Connie do some aggressive… acrobatics, if you could even call it that, with Yuuji from a few feet away. Megumi and Shoko are standing two feet away, not bothered enough to be horrified from the injury that’s waiting to happen, while Sukuna and Porco start armwrestling on the coffee table too close to their shenanigans. 

“You’re thinking about it too hard. It’s just a song. And mind you, I accidentally told Gabi you pulled her request. She’s going to be heartbroken because she’s been waiting all day.” you state. 

You glare at him.

“You did that on purpose.” you groan. 

“Well, yeah. Obviously.” 

“You’re a asshole.” you state. 

“Guitar or piano?”

You sigh. 

“Guitar.” you respond, Eren giving your cheek one last pinch before he gestures for Teddy with grabby hands and shuffles away to get the acoustic guitar from his room. 

The soft kiss Eren presses to his hair makes you smile. 

You walk into the belly of the beast, taking the seat next to Falco, tugging lightly on his hair to catch his attention from the very serious game of Go Fish that he was playing with Satoru and Maki. He looks up at you – anger pulsing in his blue eyes as you give an equally harsh glare back. 

“What’s your problem, Y/N?” Falco whines. 

“Yeah, Y/N. What’s your problem?” Satoru mimics, imitating Falco’s whine almost perfectly. 

You pull on Falco’s ear. 

“Gabi’s song. Are you ready?” 

Falco’s eyes immediately light up. 

“Yes! Yes, sorry. Yes.” Falco responds, shooting up as you give him a curt nod. 

You pull the little bench into the center of the living room, Sukuna and Lana sitting at your feet and the group of them all clumped onto the couch as Eren enters right on cue, presenting the guitar to you. 

It’s almost romantic, the way he goes about it.

Or maybe you’re just thinking about it too hard because Eren could make everything feel intimate. Even the way his eyes meet yours sends a chill running down your spine. 

Eren places the guitar in your hands, reaching forward to secure the strap around your neck and curl shis lucky guitar pick, a brilliant shade of emerald green, into your hand. The little affections he gives you before you start singing – cupping your chin in his hand, a tiny wink for good luck. 

It simmers in your chest. 

You swallow hard, as Falco pulls the little slip from his pocket, handing it over to you to read out to them. You can already see Gabi smiling so brightly in the back, her hands tucked around Eren and Levi’s as she teeters forward and back on her heels. 

“The request is…write about the bestest of friendships. Like so good that you can’t even stay away from each other because of how fun it is to be together.”  you state. 

Levi scoffs. 

“I wonder who that’s about.” he mutters. 

Gabi’s cheeks turn red as Levi and Eren continue to tease her, and you give her a warm smile, lightly strumming the guitar as you give Falco the go ahead to start. 

Falco:  I've never known someone like you Tangled in love, stuck by you from the glue Don't forget to kiss me or else you'll have to miss me I guess I'm stuck forever by the glue, oh, and you

You can’t help but watch Gabi – the way her brown eyes shine brightly at Falco as he shuts his eyes, his quiet voice filling the air as everyone intently listens.

Falco always had that quality, the ability to command a room, but it was all encompassing, searing, when it came to Gabi. 

You wonder if she remembered that there were other people in the room who could see her. Or if she was even cognizant of the fact that there were other people in the room besides him. 

You turn to Eren, giving him your cheesiest smile. 

Y/N:  You've been hiding in plain sight, and it appeared, oh I know Loving you once only feels wrong, I need you I always knew I'd find you, to be here is worth the wait to I'm not lying when I say, "I've been stuck by the glue onto you"

You hate how fucking attractive Eren can be sometimes. Eren rolls his eyes, making a dramatic display of clutching his hand on his chest as he blows you a kiss after your verse.

And after you and Falco start singing together, he’s reaching for Gabi’s wrist, the two of them doing some silly version of a slow dance together – taking turns spinning each other around, attempting to dip each other, and stepping on each other’s feet as Falco leans his chin on your shoulder, the two of you unable to look at anything, or anyone, else. 

Maybe you’re just as bad as Gabi. Probably even worse. 

Falco and Y/N:  I've been stuck by glue Right onto you I've been stuck by glue I've never known I've never known someone like you I've never known I've never known someone like you

There’s a resounding group of cheers as you and Falco finish off, Gabi and Eren running to wrap their arms around the two of you, as everyone else joins in. And in the heat of the hug, nearly suffocating all of the air out of you, you can’t help but secure your hands into Eren and Falco’s hair, leaning both of their cheeks against yours as you let that seeping warmth, the promise of their company seep deep into your bones. 

There’s the tiniest twinge of regret. That maybe, you had robbed yourself of it when this was exactly what you needed all along. But it’s almost sweet too. That the loss of it means you’ll make sure, that you’ll always be grateful, that you’ll fight to keep it this time around. 

--

Later that night, after Levi and Hange somehow pulled together a dinner for the group of you and that sweet high comes crashing down. 

You find yourself sitting across from Eren on the couch, your feet secured in his lap as you scribble into your notebook, finishing off all the lyrics – the ideas that you had been preparing for the award show. 

Eren can’t help but watch you, your forehead scrunched in concentration, glasses hanging at the edge of your nose, and the way you nervously bite your lip and messily scribble into your notebook.

He can tell that whatever it is you’re writing, that you’re going hard at it, writing so fast that you won’t even let the letters dry and letting the ink smear all the way down your twist. 

Eren reaches forward, pushing your glasses back to the bridge of your nose. It breaks your concentration, enough for you to give him a blank stare in response, before you turn back to your notebook. 

“Thanks, Eren.” you mumble. 

Eren gives you a smile in response, before resting his chin on your knees and trying to decipher your upside down handwriting. The first thing that he makes out is his name. 

“What are you writing? A love letter to me?” 

You scoff. 

“Obviously. No, we’re opening for the Institute Awards next week. I’m writing the song we’re going to sing.” you state. 

“The Triple Threat performance is usually at the end. And I’m…I’m not going to steal your moment like that. You should do it on your own.” Eren states. 

“I agree. But I sent in a demo of me singing and told them you were going to do it for the opener. So I’ll still do my triple threat performance, but we’ll do this too.” you state. 

Eren reaches forward, snatching the book from your hands, and slamming it shut. You look up at him, giving him a smile, and the sheer lack of consideration in your face – the smirk you’re giving him, it makes Eren want to kiss the attitude right off of your face. 

“Who said I would sing an opener with you?” Eren asks. 

“Who said I was going to perform New Year’s Day at my first ever award’s show?” 

Eren sulks. Leave it to you to use his own moves against him. 

“Fine. What are we doing?” 

“All in good time. Just see if you want to write a verse or something.” you state, handing the little book to Eren, as he places the pencil in between his lips, and runs his eyes over the lyrics. 

Sukuna cuts you off, breaking the soft silence in the room from everyone’s respective spots, as he frantically reaches for the TV remote and flicks it on. He’s clicking through all the channels before he stops – on Ricky and Hyla doing an interview – and gives you and Eren a weary look. 

You immediately readjust in your seat – Eren’s hand secured around your waist as he pulls you closer, until your thighs are nearly flush – as you both lean forward, drinking every word of the interview. 

“Why did you choose to release your single from your new album, Pop Princess, three days early?” 

"No fucking way." Eren murmurs.

Hyla smiles, securing her hand in Ricky’s, as you fight the urge to gag. 

“I just felt like it was a really relevant time to release it, that…that my adoring fans deserved to hear it early as a reward for being so loyal to me.” 

“What’s the song about?” the interviewer asks. 

“It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a long time, a mix of different themes that have been really present for me, in the past few years. I’ve seen how other artists and actresses have functioned in this industry and honestly? The direction that we’re going in has been so disappointing lately. Look, we all have deals that don’t work out the best for us, partnerships that just don’t end up serving us at the end – but lingering on it, years after the fact just seems harsh at this point.” 

Hyla fakes a choked up throat, sparkling tears in her eyes. 

“I just think that as women, we need to show that we can be stronger. We don’t need to throw fits about how we were wronged or feel the need to call out anyone that’s involved. It’s mature – to swallow down that anger, for the greater good of keeping good relations with people. That’s how women function, how we should always move forward. It’s almost central to it, being strong enough to weather the unfair conditions we’re given. In fact, you should be grateful that people above you are even willing to give you the opportunity to work with them, you know? That we can transcend the limits placed on us in whatever capacity.” 

You scoff. You could just reduce the limitations in the first place, so you wouldn’t have to transcend them. 

“Honestly, I think it’s a bitch move to do that. There’s a need for integrity here and using this to build your reputation, associating yourself with people who aren’t the best, being petty? Loving drama at this point, at such a big age, it’s just immature. There’s power in being optimistic.” Hyla finishes, giving a bright smile to the camera. 

They display the cover art onto the screen – a picture of Hyla and Ricky smiling into the camera as you fight the urge to gag. And the audacity is piercing, that Hyla has a silver ribbon snagged in between her locks in the picture. 

Not that you own ribbons, but the comparison is clear. The single cover is the exact same pose as the one you and Ricky did for Death of a Bachelor. 

Eren’s turn to his side to find you glaring at the screen, your eye nearly twitching as you reach for the remote and turn the TV off. You can feel them all staring at you wearily, Eren’s hand rubbing small circles into your back as you turn your head to look at Sukuna, with expectant eyes. 

“Forty-five minutes.” Sukuna states. 

“Hour and a half. And I get to take Niccolo.” 

Sukuna reaches forward, clasping his hand in yours as you shake on it. And watches as you consequently jump off of the couch, dragging Niccolo to the closest room and slamming the door shut behind you. 

Eren turns his head back, leaning his chin on his forearms as he looks up at Sukuna and Jean at his side now, the two of them giving each other a familiar smile.  

“What’s happening?” 

“You’ll see.” 

--

--

Eren watches the door anxiously, and after an excruciating twenty-seven minutes, you nearly run out the door, almost tripping on the carpet, as you slam a sheet of paper onto the coffee table in the center. 

The group of them are all leaning over his shoulder – Connie, Sukuna and Lana, Yuuji, Sasha – every single one of them breathing down his neck as they read the lyrics you’ve scribbled onto the back of one of the throwaway season one posters. 

all american bitch 

Eren looks up at you, your arms crossed against your chest, as he meets your unrelenting eyes. And watches as you slam the old camcorder onto the coffee table this time, giving them all a look. 

“Who is going to record my music video?” you ask. 

Sukuna reaches for the camera, flipping it open and twisting it around in his fingers, before giving you a curt nod. 

“Me.” 

“And guitar?” you ask.

“I’ve got that one. Colt can help.” Porco responds. 

You turn to Eren, holding out your hand to him as you pull him up, refusing to let go of his hands as you hold them in the air between the two of you. Eren's looking down at you and you're unable to place what exactly it is that's brewing in his green eyes.

“You’ve got the drums, then?” you ask. 

Eren gives you a not, affirmed by the big smile you give him, as you run off to the set and the group of you follow. Niccolo plays the backtrack for them on the walk there – the rock-esque sound with your singing layered over it as he tries to memorize the counts of the beats. 

When you reach the backset, with old props lying around and the instruments half assembled, everyone gets to work putting the set together. You leave the lights on their on/off setting, tasking Falco and Gabi to flash them multiple times while you sing. Mikasa and Sasha are quick with it – Mikasa snagging an old sparkly dress from the spare closets and Sasha tasking herself with doing your makeup quickly as the boys practice the backtrack behind you. 

And when everythings well and done, Mikasa tucking your hair behind your ears, Sukuna giving you the thumbs up from behind the camera, you take the microphone in your hands. 

If Hyla Clarkson wants a bitch, you’re going to be the biggest bitch she’s ever seen. 

You turn to Eren, giving him a wink, before the group of them start playing, as you film your comeback music video. 

I am light as a feather I'm as stiff as a board I pay attention to things that most people ignore And I'm alright with the movies that make jokes 'bout senseless cruelty That's for sure

And I am built like a mother and a total machine I feel for your every little issue I know just what you mean And I make light of the darkness I've got sun in my motherfucking pocket, best believe Yeah, you know me, I

Forgive and I forget I know my age and I act like it Got what you can't resist I'm a perfect all-American 

Eren can’t help but cheese as you run around the group of them, Sukuna following you with shaky hands as you scream the song into the microphone, You’re jumping up and down, moving closer to the camera and then running back, all with the biggest smile on your face. The pure excitement makes his heart pound.

And really, it fills him with an elation he hasn’t felt in the longest time. For him and from you. Because it reminds him of you in the chemistry read, when you sang New Year’s Day for the first time, the shy smiles you would give him before you leaned in for a kiss. It reminds him why he was so in love with you that sometimes he found it hard to stop. 

I don't get angry when I'm pissed I'm the eternal optimist I scream inside to deal with it Like, "Ah" Like, "Ah" (oh my fucking God

Eren had always found it hard to not be in total awe of you. But now more so, in a glittery green desk, with your sparkling eyes, all he could do was stare. And maybe it’s a little weird – that the fact that you’re screaming bloody murder makes him so happy – but getting to see you expressing your emotions through music without being halted, without being watered down by Danny and Sareen, it fills him with sheer pride.

All the time I'm grateful all the time I'm sexy and I'm kind I'm pretty when I cry

Oh, all the time I'm grateful all the fucking time I'm sexy and I'm kind I'm pretty when I cry 

Eren watches as you heave your chest, bringing the microphone down, as Sukuna lowers his camera, before Eren nearly jumps up from his seat, reaching for you. 

You all but oblige as Eren reaches forwards, cupping his hands around your face and feeling your heart nearly explode as he presses a kiss to your cheek.

He leans his forehead against yours, the two of you quietly breathing in unison as the rest of them huddle around the camera, playing it back.

“You never cease to fucking impress me, Y/N.” 

You grin. 

“Yeah?" you ask.

Eren presses one more kiss to your cheek for good measure. He's sure he'll regret it tomorrow.

"Hell yeah."

--

--

On Thursday night, you can’t find Eren, Sukuna, Lana, or Connie anywhere. Not in their rooms or on the set – not lingering around outside the townhouse or taking a walk around the neighborhood. 

And they’re the only people that you want to see. They’re on the heels of being vulnerable, so painfully vulnerable in front of the entire world, and you just want to be there to hold their hands and be there through it all. 

You settle into the coffee table for early dinner, Jean and Mikasa at your sides sharing one of the little scones, as they give you a halfhearted smile. You focus yourself on distracting yourself, writing the song that you were tasked with for the day.

The slip you pulled this morning was one that Maki had stuffed into the little bowl earlier this morning, hence it being the one you pulled first. 

write a song about how crazy it is that you and eren made the internet explode after literally just acknowledging each other (simply iconic, i fear)

“You know you’re shaking your legs so hard that the entire table is moving, right?” Jean asks. 

You lift your head up from your notebook, shooting both of them an apologetic smile, as you place the pencil into the center of the spine and hiding your scribbled lyrics by closing the book. You shift around on the chair, hugging your knees close to your chest, as you turn towards the two of them.

Mikasa places her little half of the scone back on the napkin, brushing the crumbs off of her hand as she turns to face you. Jean seems to take some silent cue from her, you giving him a passing wave as he quietly shuffles out of the room and leaves the two of you abandoned at the coffee table. 

“He could have stayed, y’know?” you murmur. 

“I know. Just felt like it should be a you and me moment with everything that happens tomorrow.” Mikasa murmurs. 

You nod as Mikasa diligently splits her already halved scone into a quarter before she slides it piece over to you. 

“Does it piss you off too? That Connie and Eren want this time to be alone? Because I get that tomorrow’s going to be a big day for them, but…but I just kind of want to be there for them.” Mikasa states. 

You frown. 

“I didn’t realize it was intentional.” 

“They have their reasons. And…and I even understand them. Lana and Sukuna want to spend their last day of privacy as a couple, with Teddy, just the three of them. Eren told them about some lake that’s nearby that he figured they would really like. Since they’re into all that nature crap.” Mikasa states. 

You smile. 

“And Connie. He could easily lose all the deals he has, the kind of…reputation that he’s had for years. It’s kind of daunting and I’d want to spend that time talking to someone I was close with, like my mom too. And you know Eren doesn’t like to talk anyways, just likes to kind of ruminate in his silence which I figure is what he’s doing outside.``

“He’s outside?” you ask. 

“Yeah. Went out there a while ago.” Mikasa responds. 

You hum in response, giving him a nod, as you dig your chin into your knees, trying to stomach – to remember exactly what that feeling looked like. Though you imagine it’s not half as liberating as it felt for them as it did for you when you did your interview, because a central part of it was that you were taking the high ground. 

That the effects of it were never going to reach you. And really in hindsight, surprise dropping your sung only proved that it really only benefited you. That in Niccolo’s words, the ones that he repeated to his label when he gave them the song under your conditions, that you were immortalized as a pop star. That at some point, it wasn’t even about you. 

It was the circumstances. That there’s a certain mysteriousness in fans, companies, people’s eyes about what happened to you, that it’ll draw them into whatever you have to say. 

So much so, that if you really wanted to, you could get whatever you wanted. And you were going to test the theory.

“I wish they’d let us be there for them too. I want nothing more to be with them right now, any of them, if they’d let me.” you respond. 

“Me too. But I guess it’s what I wouldn’t want either. When I know something big is going to happen, like something that makes me really nervous, the only person that I want to be around is Jean.” 

If Lana and Sukuna are together and Connie’s with his mom, that means Eren’s alone. 

“Speaking of Jean, we…we talked about everything that happened when I was gone. I really am sorry I wasn’t here for you while all of that was happening. Not that it would have done much, but…it keeps me up sometimes that you needed a friend and I wasn’t there to be one. And I kind of robbed you of letting you be that for me too.” you murmur. 

Mikasa smiles, leaning her head against your shoulder. 

“I don’t mean this in a way to make you feel bad, but just because you put yourself down just there. I do hope you know your friendship means a lot to me and you even just being around me sometimes does a lot more than you think it does.” Mikasa states. 

“I appreciate that. You do a lot for me too, Mikasa.” 

“Levi actually had a talk with me and Armin about that the other day. About forgiveness. Think he was trying to push Armin into truly forgiving Eren by talking about why I forgave you and…and all I could do was stare at the polaroids on the wall.” 

“Well, I’d do that too. It's Levi.” 

Mikasa laughs. 

“It was a picture of the seven of us. You, me, Jean, Eren, Marco, Armin, and Ymir. And he was droning in on all this crap about forgiveness and all I could think about was how little I used to be. Like really, we were fucking fifteen when this all started. I was sixteen when I started dating Jean.” Mikasa starts.

Mikasa’s demolishing her scone into tiny mounds of crumbs as she talks, the light brown scattering across the white napkin. And you wait for her to walk into addressing it, on sharing her piece about the elephant in the room.

“Sometimes it’s really fucking humiliating to think about how I treated Jean in those days. Jean, he means everything to me. And sometimes I wouldn’t even spare him a second glance. And there were days where I’d have so much guilt about it, that…that it would kind of eat me up inside. But I looked at that picture and all I could think about was…” 

Mikasa sighs. 

“I was only sixteen. I spent so much time hating myself at that age, so unwilling to accept what Jean was giving me because I thought I didn’t deserve it. And I was only sixteen. And maybe I didn’t deserve that. I was still getting used to my own skin, figuring out what it was like to be me, and I owed it to myself to take love at face value when it was being presented to me. And if I wasn’t able to do it right, that’s okay. And maybe not even the second or the third time, but I…it mattered that I wanted to be better you know? I think realizing it is the biggest step.” 

You place a hand around one of her shoulders, squeezing hard into her muscle. 

“And then I looked at you. You were sixteen, Eren was sixteen, Armin and Jean were sixteen. Maybe you were just figuring out what it was like to be you too. And Ymir. And Marco too.” 

Your throat is dry. 

“Sometimes I feel guilty for forgetting about him. Whenever I get upset about how things went down, I…I feel like shit. It could be worse, y’know…I could…” you murmur. 

“You could be dead.” Mikasa responds, finishing the thought. 

It's bleak.

“Yeah.” you sigh. 

“Me too. I wish he was just here to see that me and Jean had worked it out.” 

“Me and Eren too.” you respond. 

Mikasa lifts her head off your shoulder, before turning to face you. And she wraps her arms around you, leaning the entirety of her weight on you as you dig your face into her shoulder. 

“And us.” Mikasa states. 

You beam. 

“And us.” you repeat. 

There’s a silent pause, before Mikasa starts quietly mumbling into your skin. 

“...I really hope you’re not going to make me ask again. I know Jean already told you that we were scheming to oust Amy out and potentially ban her from the wedding and…and I hate awkward situations like this so please don’t make me ask again.” Mikasa mumbles. 

“Did your scheming work?” 

“I told her she’d have to make all the bouquets by hand and suddenly she’s busy that weekend.” Mikasa's states. 

You laugh. You pull back and pinch the side of her cheek. 

“I won’t make you ask again. And I’m more than honored, like quadruple the first time I asked you. Anything you need, I am at your service.” 

“Oh, thank god. I want you to spill a drink on Amy at the reception. And you have to help Eren with the Historia and Ymir thing. We can’t figure out what to do.” 

You frown. 

“What Historia and Ymir thing?” 

Her face pales. 

“You…you don’t know?” she mumbles. 

You shake your head. 

“Fucking, Eren. I thought he would have told you by now. They…they’re not together anymore. It…it was actually really bad, Y/N.” Mikasa responds, face drooping. 

“Are they okay?” 

“Yeah, but…not on good terms. Levi was even nervous to bring them back on the same day just to kind of spare them the hurt but…but he ended up deciding too anyway because he wanted us all back here for the last day of filming. He’s just going to try his best to be there for Ymir.” 

You feel like a wilted flower. 

“Did Historia not end up wanting to be with her…because she’s too nervous to come out?” 

“I don't know. Ymir was more than happy to live in the shadows. And…and she gathered us all together and proposed to Historia in front of all of us here. She decorated the set with a bunch of fake snow like that scene they did in season two and…and she made this beautiful speech and…Historia said no.” 

“Oh my gosh.” 

“No, Y/N. It got worse from there. Ymir…she started begging her. Saying she'd do anything to be with her. I know that Ymir isn’t like Historia in that sense, that she didn’t care about being out and maybe even a part of her wanted to, but…but she was willing to give that all up.” 

You put your head in your hands, mulling over it all.

How unfair it all is. 

That Ymir had to beg for something so simple. That Historia wasn’t able to give it to her because of something that was out of her control. That they drew the line in different places.

That they were both unhappy.

“They’re on really bad terms?” you ask. 

 “Historia wrote a bunch of songs about Ymir after the fact. It didn’t take long before people drew conclusions and it kind of…drove Ymir crazy. That she was too embarrassed to be with her for real, but that she has no qualms writing a song about it. She’s over it now, of course, but…you know. That still lingers to some extent.” 

That there was no bad guy. That they could both be hurt but both be right at the same time.

There was no side to pick.

“I’ll fix it for you. I want you to have fun at your wedding. With all of your friends there. And I will be more than happy to drench Amy's dress in red win.” you respond. 

Mikasa’s smile doesn’t reach her eyes. You can tell that she doesn’t believe you in the slightest.

You take your half of the scone and march out the the little courtyard and look for Eren. It doesn’t take you long to find him, the pale moonlight illuminating his little figure, lying down in the grass by the tree. 

You take the spot next to him, the bristles of the grass tickling your elbows and the chilly night air really freezing you to the bone. 

You don’t say anything. In the nearly three hours you sit out there with him, you mull it over – all of it over – in your head a hundred times. 

Before you drift to sleep, you swear Eren reaches for your hand and squeezes three times.  

--

Eren leans forward, wrapping his arms around your neck and leaning his chin on your shoulder, your cheeks brushing against each other as you read through the tweets together on your phone. On the precipice of your episode airing, Eren had asked you to show him all the tweets about the documentary, but supervised. 

He didn’t really trust himself to do it on his own. 

“It’s…good.” Eren states. 

“It’s great. People really believe you guys, Eren.” 

Eren smiles. 

“If this all works out right, I think I’ll be able to do it, Eren. Or at least mess with Scott Clarkson really good.” you whisper. 

Eren reaches for your phone, before throwing it to the side. He's tasked himself with cracking all the bones in your fingers.

“You know, you never did tell me what it is that you’re trying to do. Everyone keeps telling me that you’re trying to do something for me but…I can’t really figure out what that is if you don’t tell me. And I could actually help you if you let me.” Eren states. 

You lean out of Eren’s touch, sitting directly across from him on his bed, legs criss crossed on top of each other’s. You reach forward, cupping Eren’s cheek in your hand as you smile at him. 

“I’m repaying a favor. You…you did what I couldn’t. You got my album back for me. And I…I know deep down that all you want to see is Scott Clarkson without a career, stopped from being able to hurt anyone the way he hurt all of you. I can’t give you back anything that he took from you but I can try to do this for you.” you murmur. 

Eren fights the urge to scoff.

You could give him back what Scott Clarkson took from him. If you just decided to make a move.

“That’s right.” Eren responds. 

“This…this is a contingency plan. If people don’t see reason, if they continue to collaborate with him…I don’t want any of your vulnerabilities to go to waste. And really, the only thing these people care about at the end of the day is what makes them money. Their business is what keeps them going.” 

Eren frowns. 

“I don’t like where this is going.” 

“Eren, don’t worry. I’m trying to be smart about this. I talked to Levi and he told me that Scott makes money off the big three. The movies, the record label, and the tabloid company. I asked Niccolo’s company to break all ties with their conglomerate – down to miniscule things, like sharing equipment – if they wanted to release my song. And big things too, like dropping Ricky from their joint label.” 

Eren’s eyes go wide. 

“There’s no way they agreed.” 

“They didn’t even think twice. Niccolo made them send the drafted contract over before we sent the song over. And I’m sure part of it is the appeal – that I haven’t been around in so long that people are itching to see what I’m up to. You…you can’t really buy hype like that. It’s already making money. I’m doing the same thing with the awards show – planning to sway Hyla’s designers, Scott Clarkson’s closest business partners into making deals with his competitors, till he’s left with nothing.” you state. 

Eren mulls the thought over. 

“I don’t know if that’ll even do anything.” 

“If you can’t take him down by the truth of the matter, I’ll take him down by his business. And knowing him, that’s the only thing that really matters to him anyways. His…his entire brand as an industry titan crumbles if people aren’t rallying around him, if people parade behind others instead. He can’t get to anyone if no one lets him in the first place.” 

Eren's eyes falter.

“I don’t know if I like this, Y/N. It kind of sounds like…you’re putting yourself on the line just for me. I don’t want you to feel like you have to sell yourself out to these people to make him suffer on my behalf.” Eren states. 

You glare at Eren. 

“Our behalf. He took everything from us, Eren. From Lana and Sukuna, from Connie. Don’t act lke I don’t know that it was his tabloid company that was on scene when Marco died. At the very least, I’m going to humiliate this asshole and his stupid fucking daughter the first chance I get. They don’t get to get off so easily for everything they did to you, Eren.” 

Eren smiles, reaching forward to cup your cheek as you drop your hand from his. 

“Is this what everyone’s talking about when they keep calling you my vicious guard dog?” 

You roll your eyes.

Eren rubs his thumb back and forward on the softness of your cheek.

He savors the fact that the love in the room is resting firmly in the palm of his hand. 

“You really think this will work?” Eren asks. 

“I don’t know. I just feel like…some things never go out of style. If we build up the hype just right, people will stop collaborating with him. For good.” 

Eren grins. It makes your heart do a somersault. 

“Then let’s give them a fucking show, Y/N.” 

You reach for your phone and dig out the email from the depths of your inbox. And type in the details before crawling under the sheets with Eren and giving his hands a squeeze. 

Confirmed Attendance:  Y/N L/N and Eren Jaeger  Vogue Met Gala 2024 

--

--

next part linked here

an: MOTHERFUCKERS WE ARE GOINGGGG TO THE MET GALA. I have been waiting since the fucking BEACH CHAPTER for this next one on god im so excited

I am now aware that one of the tweet sets is blurry and there's a repeat and if I can muster up enough of a fuck I will fix it tomorrow (I won't)

taglist: @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06  @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636 @fvckingeetar @ttalgi @najaemism @ilovekimchi123 @youraggedybitch @xoyumiqls @leafguitar

pls comment on this post or any of the chapters if you want to be added to the taglist <3

[avocado-writing]

I saw some of your BG3 headcanon and I got to say I love it. 💕

I hope it okay to ask what would BG3 companion would react if the reader is a selkie 🦭💕

how cute! hope you enjoy, anon!

Astarion

sort of glad he isn’t the only “afflicted” of the group (even though you consider your selkie-dom a blessing and not a curse like his vampirism)

you spend long nights discussing how you adapted to “normal” life after the tadpole. he doesn’t need to hide from sunlight, you don’t feel the pull to constantly be near water.

makes jokes about stealing your sealskin when you annoy him, in return you threaten to stake him. just girly things 💕💞💓💗💝💘💖

when you finally get the confidence to transform in front of him he is transfixed. you are beautiful.

“what do you think?” nervous eyes, picking at your fingers.

“you’re wonderful,” he says, uncharacteristically sincere, and you feel your cheeks heat up.

Gale

super duper fascinated.

asks you a billion questions, ones you didn’t even think about the answers to!

”so how does it feel when you actually slip into your seal form?” “?? Normal I guess? Idk, Gale!”

he watches you transform and swim around, making lots of notes to start with — but he gets distracted and just watches you play.

when you flop up onto the bank next to him, covered in water and out of your seal body, he gets lost in the sweet depth of your eyes.

when he kisses you for the first time it’s the most sure he’s ever been about anything.

Karlach

“oh my GODS that’s so cool!”

also asks a billion questions too but not like… smart ones.

“have you ever eaten raw fish?” “yeah of course, Karlach!” “haha ew how did they taste?” “pretty good actually!” “AMAZING”

can’t stop looking at your, stroking your cloak when you’re in kith form. she knows how precious it is to you and wants to keep it safe.

she submerges herself in water and heats it up like a hot tub, you turn into your seal form and float around lazily enjoying her heat. ❤️

Wyll

gobsmacked but honoured you shared this side of yourself with him.

we know our lad likes fairytales, he’s swept up in the storybook aspect of it all.

(secretly you’re both thrilled at the idea of being a knight having a romance with a selkie. it’s so perfect and sweet! 💕)

always checks in to see if there’s anything he can do to make you feel more comfortable - finding you water to relax in or getting you some fatty food to enjoy.

perfect partner. respectful and doting. no notes!

Shadowheart

surprised, but pretends she knew all along (she didn’t, she just doesn’t want you knowing how taken aback she is)

I think you being a selkie helps her get the courage to try and swim.

maybe it’s you in bipedal form holding onto her and leading her into the water, or maybe you turn into a seal for extra buoyancy.

either way, she’s squeaking “don’t you dare let go!!”

she eventually gets more comfortable with this side of your life and there is nothing she enjoys more than just floating with you, holding your paw or your hand 💕

Lae’zel

doesn’t really understand.

you have to explain the concept to her a couple of times before it sinks in.

”this is a confession?” “yes…” “I do not understand why you believe I would think any differently of you. you are still the source of my joy.”

her honest acceptance of you, all of you, is enough to make your soul feel sweet.

you kiss her. there is simply nothing else for it.

Halsin

my man wildshapes, so he’s pretty used to people being in animal forms - even if it’s a bit different for you.

the two of you talk at length about changing into beasts and how it feels, what joy and freedom it brings.

let’s be real. we’ve all seen the bear scene. the two of you probably both turn into seals and get freaky. it’s great.

he likes to curl up in his bear form around you as a seal and drift off to sleep on the shore. you feel so safe next to him. he’d never let anything hurt you.

[buryustogether]

mary on a cross

part 1 part 2 part 3

lycan/werewolf!heisenberg x f!reader

summary: for decades, the beast has provided for and protected your village. when he suddenly stops, however, the council decides a virgin sacrifice is in order to appease him.

warnings/tags: heavy religious talk/themes, sexual assault (checking virginity), sacrifice, mentions of blood and cannibalism, bondage, swearing, mentions of starvation and violence

author’s note: i wrote this at 3am based on a dream so be kind.

inspired by mary on a cross by ghost

‘ you go down just like holy mary ’

It was the village priest who asked if your virginity was still intact.

But the question was not unfounded.

You could not fathom as to why your ancestors had chosen this spot to settle down. It was a clearing near the bottom of a ravine, surrounded on the north and south by impassable mountains. The forest occupied the other directions, too thick and dense to travel through and cling to the hope you would make it back with all of your fingers and toes intact. Game was scarce, and luxuries such as spice and cloth even more so. It was desolate, and miserable.

You could not fathom as to why they had chosen this spot.

The legends told of the struggle they faced after first establishing your little village. They found no animals to hunt, and the fish they managed to capture from the small creek running along the perimeter were smaller than their dinner plates. Some starved. Others began to turn upon one another.

Then there came the beast.

They said no one laid eyes on him until after the first of the elk arrived at the town square, freshly slaughtered and with enough meat for everyone. It had appeared from seemingly thin air, with only a pair of deep-imprinted footsteps in the snow to suggest it had not wandered in and died on its own. They praised God for the gift. Then the next day, a pair of deer were delivered.

This went on for, they told, a week before someone spied their so-called savior. They spotted him in the nighttime, when he had come to gift them another elk, this one bigger than the last. He held the form of a man and wore clothes far warmer than theirs, shielded from the cold in ways they could not yet comprehend. But then he’d turned to the light, his eyes glinting, and they’d realized it was not a man in the slightest. His eyes were an otherworldly golden, his bared teeth jagged as blades. Long, black claws sprouted from his fingers and his grey hair curtained his face like a destroyed portrait.

The villagers began to offer payment for his deeds. They tried to leave him money, but it went untouched. A beast would have no use for their currency. They left him the word of God, and they found the Bible ripped to shreds. Then one, so the legends went, left upon his offering pedestal a pair of leather gloves.

They were gone the following morning, and he never took another thing.

And, as the elders have taught, the beast provided for the village for years, decades. He brought them food when they were close to starving - how he knew, they could not understand - and protected it from threats. He became their new god. There was no one that did not benefit from his protection, and he never failed to deliver.

Until last week.

Your eighteenth birthday had passed a number of days before, and your family had used up the rest of the sugar making your favorite tarts for your special occasion. Now, you wished you had savored them just a bit more.

The beast did not come on the first day of the week, nor the second or third. The villagers had grown lazy, used to being provided for, and there were no extra provisions hidden away for an unthinkable occasion such as this. Bellies began to grumble, and moods dropped like insects. The beast did not come the fourth, fifth, six, nor seventh day.

People panicked.

Some believed the end had come, and their loved ones were forced to stop them from ending themselves.

The council held a meeting, one each and every one of the villagers was required to attend. You found yourself sitting in one of the back most pews with your parents, head held low as the women did and hands crossed dutifully over your lap. You only looked up when the priest, backed by the council, cleared his throat from his pulpit and the worried chatter ceased.

The priest cleared his throat, seeming to be searching for the right words as dozens upon dozens of eyes bored into him. People needed this reassurance, promises that the beast, their god, had not abandoned them.

At last, he spoke. “These are trying times, as I’m sure everyone here knows and feels within their homes.” There passed around a number of murmured agreements. “The council and I have been meeting, searching for solutions to this problem.” He took a breath and closed his eyes; everyone waited. “We have come to the conclusion that, somehow, in some way, we have angered the beast. He has turned away from us in a test, and we must show him that we are still worth saving. We must offer him desirable, and valuable, in order to win back his affections.”

The village people burst into a storm of murmurs and whispers. Was it true? Had they truly angered him?

“What do you suggest we offer him, then?” demanded a man near the front. “We haven’t anything desirable, nor valuable. The beast provides us with everything we value.”

The priest held up a hand to silence him, as if this was precisely what he expected to come of his announcement. The council whispered behind him. You felt your stomach roiling as you glanced to your parents. Just what did you all have to give a deity such as the beast? If your village had something he wanted, it was beyond you why he had not taken it by now.

Perhaps he was too kind a god to steal from his followers.

The priest went on, his voice booming and powerful enough to shake the earth atop its core. “What we will give the beast is no object, nor anything we can see or touch.” There came a pause, long and haunting. “The Bible commands a virgin must be sacrificed in order to appease an angered god.”

The church may as well have imploded upon itself. Mothers gasped and clutched their children to their breasts. Young girls looked to their parents and tugged on their sleeves, demanding to know what had just been said.

You felt your heart drop to your stomach as your head snapped around to take everything in. Your pulse quickened and you fisted your skirts, then hurried to drop your head again. Perhaps if he didn’t see you, his eyes would flit right over you.

It wasn’t much of a secret you were still a virgin, what with how none of the young men in the village had successfully caught your eye. That - and you just simply weren’t ready. It was as easy as so.

Now, you were wishing you had just gone and got it over with in the hay bales in the back of the stables like every other girl your age.

“Now, everyone, calm yourselves.” The priest’s soothing tone swept again over the crowd, and they focused their attention back to his tall figure upon the raised platform. “The council has already decided upon a soul to offer the beast. Before we call out their name, we must remember this is for the greater good of the village, and our people. If we do not offer the beast a peace offering, we will freeze and starve. Is this really what we want?”

No, it was not what they wanted.

Your mouth went dry and you tried to keep your breathing even as a council member handed the priest a small piece of paper, and he read it silently first. Then -

“Y/N.”

Your world came to a halt. The clocks stopped ticking. The creek outside stopped murmuring and whispering. You lifted your head to find every pair of eyes in the church upon you, including your parents’, your friends’, your neighbors’.

This couldn’t happen. You weren’t going to be sacrificed to a beast, to a god. You just wouldn’t. You still had so much to live for.

So you did the only thing you could think to do.

You ran.

Your feet carried you in a flurry of motion down the aisle and through the doors, down the steps and into the icy street.

You only made it a few more yards before one of the men grabbed you and hauled you back.

Reality became a twisted, mocking version of itself from then on. You forced yourself to disappear from your consciousness as they restrained you to keep you from running, chained you to a bench in the back of the church so that the elders of the council could spread your legs and ensure you were a virgin. You felt your face heat and tears roll down your cheeks as your legs involuntarily kicked and flailed, their touches upon your most intimate parts a violation of your soul.

You could not tell when that stage ended, and another began. They dressed you in the finest skirts and silks, painted your face and made your hair. If there had been a mirror present, and the circumstances had been far, far different, you were sure you would have enjoyed gazing at your reflection. Thought you looked pretty, even.

But the circumstances were not different.

The circumstances found you deep, deep in the woods, chained to an offering pedestal, and kneeling with your arms above you.

Waiting to be found by the beast.

Your tears had dried and your panic and fear turned to rage. Your parents and friends had only stood by and allowed everything that happened to you be done, too concerned with their own selfish needs to bother protesting. They had only said their goodbyes and sent you away, intent on feasting what the beast brought them in return for your beauty, your body, your virginity… your blood.

You didn’t know quite what to expect - if the beast even did find you. If he was even alive. If he even wanted what you had to offer. Perhaps he would uphold his honorable reputation, explain his absence and anger with the villagers, set you free to take the message to the others. Or perhaps he would ravish you, thrilled with the sacrifice, then clap those fabled rows of razor teeth into your neck and lick up the waterfalls of blood that would spew from your throat.

Or perhaps you would die of the cold first, and you wouldn’t have to be alive to endure any of it.

The crack of a twig in the wood snagged your attention. You lifted your head, previously hung to stare at the snow beneath you, and searched the dense forest around you. Another snap; from your left, this time. A third, to your right. Rustling. Dead ahead.

“Well, well, well. Don’t you look like Mary on a cross.”

You heard his voice before you saw him. It was deep and drawling, tipped with some foreign tongue you could not place. He accentuated his words, as if he would shame himself for stumbling even once, as if he craved the attention his sentences alone brought him.

The lone figure of a man stepped into your view from the wood, and you were unable to keep your lips from parting and your breath from hitching. He was tall, taller than your father when he stood to his full height, and he wore clothing unlike you had ever seen before. A shirt unbuttoned against the freezing temperatures, shiny boots to stamp in the snow. A thin coat that wagged at his calves and a hat atop his grey hair. A pair of leather gloves. And shaded specs perched on his nose, not for reading or seeing, but purely for fashion.

You could not deny, in that moment, that he was the most attractive man you had ever seen.

The beast approached you slowly, like an apex predator stalking its prey, and kept his hands in his pockets as he did so. You wondered if, beneath those gloves, his fingers extended into claws, like in the legends. You wondered if his teeth were as jagged as they said, if his eyes were gold like molten copper behind those shades.

He stopped before you, a feet away, and crouched down on his haunches so that he could be at your level. It seemed he found your thundering pulse and wide eyes humorous, because he answered two of your thoughts at once; he grinned wide, showing off perfectly normal human teeth, and pushed his shades further down his nose to reveal hazel eyes, nearly bordering on silver. Everything about him screamed ordinary, but you knew he was anything but.

“What have we here?” he asked, leaning in closer. You flinched and turned your head away, straining against the chains around your wrists. He stopped at your reaction and tilted his head rather curiously. “You can ease up, there, princess. I’m not going to hurt you.” He flashed you another blinding grin. “Yet.”

A shiver climbed up your spine, and it was not from the cold.

The beast hummed as he stood and examined the chains holding you to the offering pedestal. “What are you doing all the way out here?” he asked. He gave the linked metal a testing yank. “And why the hell are you in a position like this?” He gave a self-indulgent chuckle. “If you wanted a ride with the big bad beast, you only needed to ask.”

“I didn’t do this myself,” you snapped, the first thing you’d spoken since his arrival. You felt your blood turn to ice as he glanced over at your outburst. You swallowed your fear and took a shuddering breath; you were sure your lips weds turning blue by now. “The village believes you’re angry with them. With us. That you’ve abandoned us and a… a sacrifice was required to appease you.”

Another chuckle came from the beast’s throat, this one a bit more amused than the last. “Oh, fuck. I swear, you humans get more and more loony with that religious stuff every decade. Let me guess.” He circled the pedestal and came to a stop on your other side, then slid a leather-clad hand to cup your face and make you look up at him. His fingers were not sharp; instead, they were warm. “You’ve never gotten your skirt lifted - am I right?”

He laughed when you jerked your head away and refused to look at him.

“Well, I’ll give you this,” he said, then grabbed one of the chains with a powerful grip, “you’re one hell of a volunteer.” Like it was made of nothing but twine, he ripped the chain clean from the pedestal and dropped it to the ground. Your arm screamed in relief and you almost did, too. He moved on to the other chain. “And I hate to burst your little sacrilegious bubble, but I didn’t ‘abandon’ you people. Ever heard of taking a nap? Forgive me for sleeping in a little.”

You didn’t quite know how to respond to his words as he let the other chain down, and you were able to undo the clasps around your wrists. Sleeping? He had been sleeping, hibernating, even, and your people thought the world was ending?

How stupid they all sounded.

But you stuck to one bit of his dialogue - the piece that angered you the most. “I didn’t volunteer,” you said roughly as you rubbed your raw, tender wrists. He stopped from where he was now inspecting the heavy chains, gaze sliding to your hunched form. “They… they forced me to do this. They made sure I was still a virgin, and, and dragged me out here -“

“What’s your name?”

His simple request startled you from the rant you were preparing. You suddenly felt small beneath his intense gaze, and you found yourself huddling your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around your legs. “Y/N,” you whispered.

The beast dropped the chains, whatever interest he had in them now gone, and stalked closer. You cowered slightly, tilting your head away. He crouched, waited a moment, then reached out like he had before and took the point of your chin under his thumb. Gently, but still forcefully, he dragged your head back around so that you were looking right at him. With his other hand, he pulled his shades off, and you were able to gaze directly into those silvery eyes of his. You swore you could have seen stars dancing within the irises.

“Hate to be the one to tell you this, sweetheart,” he rumbled, his tone slightly different than it had been before, “but I’m going to kill those people for putting their hands on a pretty little thing like you.” He must have felt your breath hitch, because he tilted his head and brushed a thumb over your bottom lip; you were unable to stop the feeling of powerful heat that went straight to your core between your thighs. “Innocence is a treasure not many poor souls on this damned earth have any more; and who is man to take it from another for his own self preservation?”

He pulled away, and you let out the breath you were unaware you had been holding. The beast offered you a hand, and, your own still shaking slightly, you accepted. He hauled you to your feet and said, “Name’s Heisenberg. You can call me Karl; but only when it’s just you and I, pretty girl.”

Warily, you glanced over your shoulder, back toward the village. “You… you’re not going to -“

“Oh, no,” he said, then cupped your face and brought you close to his own. You found yourself leaning into his warm, warm touch. “Those pricks don’t deserve you; not after what they’ve done. Besides, I’d like to wait them out… see how long it takes for them to turn on one another when the cupboards empty out and there’s no one to bring them food.”

Blinking rapidly, you murmured low, “Why have you been…”

“Feeding you?” The beast - Heisenberg - said. You nodded. “Call me old fashioned, but I like the idea of helping people.” He slid his shades back on, and his enchanting gaze disappeared. “But only the ones who deserve it.” He took a few steps back to where he’d come from, then glanced back. “Coming?” he asked. A sick, twisted kind of smile blossomed across his lips. “Or, would you like to pay your dear people a visit? Have a little fun - the way they had theirs with you?”

You thought about your answer.

Then matched his sadistic grin.

Heisenberg gave a low laugh and swept back toward you, bringing his lips inches from yours. You did not shy away this time. “Oh, I think I’m going to like you.”

[scary-lasagna]

Hello, I hope you’re doing well! I was wondering if it was okay if to request LJ, Bloody Painter, and Hoodie (separately) with a siren reader? Reader, in her human form, is slightly stronger, durable, and faster. However, in their siren form (which happens when they get submerged underwater) they have the typical powers of a siren, but they also have limit consciousness. What I mean by that is that they are a lot more feral in this form, and doesn’t really recognize anyone in that form, but like, around their partners, they’d sort of feel familiar to them, so reader in their siren form won’t attack them or anything. Hope this makes sense!

In my AU sirens can also transform into bird-like creatures! They have power over the sea and the air :] I decided to implement that as well.

Laughing Jack

Jack, as you know, runs an old, worn-down circus.

There are no more acts of beasts, or rare animals from the human realm, but more so of a retirement place for the creatures.

He basically bought you off of the black market, watching the algae float around the the cramped tank they kept you in.

There was no way he'd be able to sleep at night, knowing he could prevent another lonely night for you.

You got a lovely spot next to Snowflake, his prized albino Tiger, which Jack thought was so funny, because of the cat and fish dynamic.

But after research and asking around after taking care of you for a month, he concluded to take you out of the water.

He enjoyed that month of bonding and feeding you, and even reading you stories whenever you seemed bored with any enrichment toys and food he gave you. He wondered if you would even remember him.

But you did, and you thanked him profusely for rescuing you, even if he had no idea how much it cost or energy it took to rehabilitate a siren-like yourself.

And Jack was always willing to learn whatever you told him, even bringing up stories from your culture about how the sea will reach toward the moon in an attempt to reach its lover that flew too high.

And it took am embarrassingly long amount of time to realize that Jack's feathers were fake, simply a silly decoration he enjoyed.

But over time, you two grew close, and now you have a rather large tank full of a small reef and a complete array of fish to keep you happy whenever you decide to dip your toes.

Helen

Oh, Helen is just head over heels for you.

He thinks you're the most beautiful muse he's ever come across, and every time you step foot in the water you two fall in love all over again.

You actually almost killed him the first time you met. Both of you thought you were alone, and quickly realized the presence of the other.

He managed to squeeze you into his painting of the sunset, but before leaving, he gathered seashells into the tide.

You almost bit his arm off, and ended up getting a face full of oil paint. It tasted lovely, as you can imagine, (it tasted like you gulped down an oil spill).

As while busy gagging and attempting to wash your mouth out, and drink the sea water, which would make even the best of sirens sea-sick, Helen took charge and dragged you out of the water to help you.

And you hit it off since, and many of his paints of you have gained quite the popularity.

Brian

Not gonna lie, he thinks you are pretty terrifying.

The first time you went to the beach, Brian expected something like Ariel, or even the mermaids from Pirates of the Caribbean.

He was not expecting your true form in the slightest.

Your jaw unhinged and ripped your cheeks clean in half to reveal not one, but multiple rows of sharp teeth.

And he's seen many things and creatures in his career as a proxy, but a siren had not been one of them. Slender had mentioned staying away from them, especially as humans, you can be lured whenever they decide to be bored of you, and then drag you to the sea floor.

Or maybe they'll grab you up in their talons leading to sculpted human legs and drop you in a vat of bubbling acid.

Whatever the case was, it seemed as if it went into one ear and out with other with Brian, because he fell in love.

But damn, in the water you were hella creepy. And of course, you thought it was a game to scare this familiar stranger shitless since he seemed so keen on staying around you.

He managed to lure you out from the water with a little jar of "siren-bait" from one of the seaside shops. It didn't work as expected, but you really just wanted to see if it contained any edible food.

But he liked pruning your wings and picking off the casing of new feathers whenever they came in, and if he wasn't feeling too tired, he would give you a small massage to your shoulders after holding up your wings for so long.

[malehypnofantasy]

For God sake, not only the passenger seated next to me big as fuck, he is also reeked! Did he just workout or something before this flight? And to think I should last 6 hours by his side, God please give me strength. I let him know about my repulsion through my expression, but he just scoffed at me and minded his own business. How convenient of a buffoon to act that way, unaware of their own stench! I tried to negotiate my way out from this cursed seat but the flight attendant said the flight is full so they cannot move me. Hhhhh......I can't imagine my perfume might last against his stench!! Imagine walking out of this plane to meet my wife while I smelled of body odor!??? What a disgrace. This is possiby the worst flight ever!

I must have fallen asleep in the process of holding my breath and tried to focus on my reading despite this wafting smell coming out of this disgusting muscle pig. Some low, guttural noises earlier woke me up, and imagine my surprise to see the guy next to this muscle pig already soaked with God knows what, his hand gripped the biceps of this muscle pig. Is he----

"Oh well, you mirin' dude? He can't help himself cornered in the window seat like that being squished with my muscle. Maybe you can use some fix too like him?"

And just like that, he flexed his biceps out of nowhere and I cannot move my eyes away! Look at that bicep peak! And those intricate tattoos that adorned his beautiful tan skin! Fuck, this guy is gorgeous, and hot damn.......how on Earth I didn't realize how great he smelled throughout this flight. Maybe because he just get his pits out now? I literally let my mouth gaped a bit too long until this stream of drool just coming out of my mouth, but is this guy for real just giving me a private gun show?

"You can cop a feel, you know?"

And when he flexed harder as my hand traced his biceps and protruding veins, I soaked my pants with this free-flowing cum that I just cannot contain. This is erotica at its finest, not even my wife's supple body and big breast ever make me feel this insane. I tried to come up with sentence trying to rationalize and vocalize whatever the fuck happened here, but when he smirked at me after seeing my crotch, I think he knows how well I fall down bad for him so he just grabbed my head and let me huff his sweatpants right at his crotch while he rested my neck on the armrest, his left triceps keeping me in place as his right hand fished out his 7 inchers beer can beast out for me to swallow. This is the best flight ever!

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine the beast pirates finding out you're good with animals

You: *snorkeling for shells in the reefs around Wano*

Octopus: *resting on your shoulder*

Goliath grouper: *keeps bumping into your hands, urging you to throw a rock to play with him*

Reef shark: *glued to your side to get cuddles*

Reef shark and grouper: *swim after what you thought was just a school of fish*

You: *turns around*

Massive Megalodon: *staring at you and only a few feet away*

Octopus: *inks itself and swims away*

You: if I'm gonna die I might as well. *Swims over and scratches its chin*

Massive Megalodon: *leans into your scratches and closes its eyes*

Later that night

King: where were you, I was looking for you all afternoon.

You: I went snorkeling, wanna see my haul!

King: you what! Those waters are very dangerous even for fishmen, you should never go out there again.

You: what why?

Jack: what's going on?

King: this dumbass swam out to Shiro reef.

Jack: how are you still alive?

You: I had a wonderful time, I played with the groupers, got to cuddle some sharks, got a bunch of interesting broken shells. And the reef itself was beautiful!

King: there's a Megalodon sea king that resides there, he's called the Tidal Fury, and he's a known man eater.

You: oh that was a sea king, I was wondering why he was so big. And his name is Stinky.

Jack: you saw it! Did it see you!

You: yes he likes having his chin scratched, he escorted me around the reef, and even brought me home.

Queen: * has been eaves dropping* bullshit

You: he did!

King: uh huh, and I shit gold eggs like in the stories.

Jack: there's no way a puny human is better with sea life than a fishman like myself, get real.

A few days later after returning from a raid

Kaido: keep an eye out for the Tidal Fury, if we lose another boat to that fuck I'm gonna be pissed

Jack: I don't think there's a need to worry too much especially since (y/n)'s best buds with the damn thing.

Queen: *snickers*

You: Shut up Jack.

King: *leans over to you and mutters* he's just jealous of you, he's been trying to make friends with the Tidal Fury for ages.

Jack: *takes a swing*

Scout: Sir the Tidal fury... he's on the port side bow.

The crew: *runs over to the side to see him sticking his head out of the water*

You: Stinky!! *Reaches out and scratches his chin*

King: holy shit you were telling the truth.

You: surprise! I'm gonna go swimming with my friend now, see you at dinner! *Throws yourself overboard and hops on top of Stinky*

Jack: what about unloading the ship!

You: I'm just a puny human, and you're big strong fishman, you can handle it all on your own.

Jack: Well fine, I didn't want to be friends with the Tidal Fury anyway!

You: His name is Stinky!! I named him after you! *Rides away*

Support me on Kofi and Patreon 6/4

[beebopboom]

Greasy Johnson: a Red Herring?

This is a season 3 speculation post - you know not what to do with them

ok so i’ve fallen down a Greasy Johnson is Jesus rabbit hole and I love it - seems pretty plausible (here are some of of the pieces that sent me down here - Jesus 2.0 rides a Motorcycle Scooter , Greasy Johnson is Jesus, and Greasy Johnson in the book)

To summarize Greasy Johnson is the third baby in the swap who grows up near Adam and has kind of a “rival gang” who in the book is used as the reason why Adam finds a fight between two rivals ridiculous

plus you have the working title for the talked about sequel 668: The Neighbor of the Beast which more than likely is Greasy Johnson house and his thing with tropical fish - just a lot of things pointing to him being Jesus

But!! I want to talk about something a little different (and I can recognize this is probably just my want for Warlock to come back as someone important) because it was a choice not have him mentioned after the swap in the show.

What if Warlock is Jesus? Now just hear me out

If i’m following the swap right Warlock is our baby draped in blue and is the Young’s actual son

Now going back a bit I believe Heaven has been testing out aspects of what is said to happen in the Second Coming for a while now maybe as far back as 1827 but probably got close to right around 1941 and was just waiting for Hell to have the Antichrist and trigger Armageddon

and yknow for being an order of satanic nuns they sure do have a lot of Jesus on the Cross hanging around. why? - it’s almost like the were also meant to deliver him as well

So when Hell pulled their final card - so did Heaven

Now who was not meant to be there that night and messed everything up - the Young’s and their baby, Warlock - it’s almost like it was a divine intervention. And like I said earlier Warlock is our baby draped in blue (like Jesus) and our Ace card (ace up their sleeve anyone?)

Greasy Johnson was apart of Hells plan and set up - Warlock was not

also he has traveled the world because of the Dowling’s work before being tempted by Hastur which he denies

and the whales and dinosaurs we see in his room - you got your mothers humor don’t you?

and he is the only one who has to make a return to the UK - the plane in the opening sequence

what about Greasy Johnson and the neighbor of the beast though? that seems to be a pretty great fit and I agree - he is going to be the reason the swap is discovered and they all get together again - whatever that reason may be (*cough*dying*cough*)

and not mentioning him further in season one allows for him to come in as a completely new character and story that we get to follow around with points in his life pointing towards him being Jesus - as a distraction for the characters and for us

but where does Aziraphale come into this and why does the Metatron need an angel of his talents? - Heaven has also lost its card(baby), the trick worked a little too well and there are still two children to choose between, if they could find them - and Aziraphale, who has shown is apt at finding and identifying the Antichrist and knows Earth better than any angel, is just the being for the job

I recognize this is a lot of speculation and this is just kinda just a crack theory but it wouldn’t leave me alone so I’d thought I’d share

and mostly I think it’d be funny that in thinking they were raising the Antichrist they were actually raising Jesus Christ

(but also it would fit a lot of the headcannons floating around. Jesus being a right terror? check. Them raising Jesus? already did that. Trans!Jesus? remember all those trans!warlock headcannons. Jesus having a mentor relationship with Crowley? the demon raised Warlock. Going out for a drink? Warlock would an adult now by the time season 3 comes out and they keep following that the events in the show are happening at the present time it comes out trend - just on and on)

[c0ld0utside]

Hi! I wanted to request a script with a mermaid reader. Something like a cub that doesn't look like the others, maybe sharp teeth, maybe something else, whatever you want. + a fisherman who accidentally caught them. You don't have to write this if you don't like the concept!

No, no you're onto something! This request is PERFECT AUGH-Fisherman Dad...is something I didn’t know I needed. 

Here’s your fun fact for the day: Piranhas can bark. 

Criticism is welcome!

Warnings (Let me know if I missed any): Reader/MC gets hit, Blood, Reader/MC gets gagged, Reader’s/MC’s hands get bound, Reader is put in a box

Growing up in his small port town, Cannon heard stories of sea monsters and their relatives. Mermaids, Sirens, Leviathans, Serpents, Krakens…the list goes on. Now that he’s an adult, however, he knows those were just stories parents told their kids to warn and teach them. Don’t go to the beach at night, don’t swim too far out, swim with a group, wear lifejackets.

If those beasts really do exist, he wonders how they handle storms as shitty as this one. Lightning and thunder clashed overhead and the rain poured down in tubs. The waves were large and rough, going way farther than they normally did at high tide. Ah well. Cannon’s just glad his boss is sane enough to not make him and his coworkers work in that mess. 

Feeling like an old man despite being in his mid-thirties, Cannon stood up, popped his back, and headed off to bed. Hopefully, the conditions will be better by tomorrow. He doesn’t want to go to work on a rainy day.

…

…It’s raining. It’s not as bad as yesterday, but it’s raining. At least that means the catches will be good today. 

Speaking of good catches, Cannon isn’t sure if he’s hallucinating. He didn’t bring someone with him since he wasn’t going too far out, so he had no one to ask. Normally, when a fisherman pulled up their nets, they got fish. Or none at all. 

“Easy, easy…it’s alright,” Cannon says, mostly to himself. This is fine. Totally normal. Maybe this is a crazy dream and he’s going to wake up late. Cannon moves away to grab a knife and crouches back down next to the wet gremlin. “Not gonna hurt you,” He whispers, hooking the blade under the rope where it’s pressing into the fish kid’s neck. 

What Cannon has in his net is half a fish and half a kid. A fish kid. A fish kid that looks like a mess, and who is currently hissing at him like a rabid possum and snapping at the wet ropes. Snapping. Like a piranha. Are they a piranha? He can see the pearly, pointy whites from where he’s standing, holding the rope down so the net stays in the air. The creature continues to thrash and hiss and bite. 

He lowers the net and moves it onto the deck, careful to avoid the rabid little monster that is going insane. Cannon can’t blame them. If he was a little fish kid caught in a net while bruised up he’d be freaking out too. 

The brat twists their head and bites down. Letting out a startled yelp, Cannon uses his other hand to smack them and pulls away. Yikes…it’s ugly and the blood is streaming down his hand, making a mess. “I just said I wasn’t gonna hurt you, bonehead,” He grunts, using his good hand to hold their head down while he cuts them free. 

He’s caught off guard again when they push themself out of the net and start scrambling over to the edge of the ship. The kid’s tail flops around and drags as they try to get away. It hurts- Cannon can tell from the way the thing whimpers and hisses. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” He tuts, grabbing some of the rope and walking over to the small fry. Small fry? He’s not thinking straight. Are there major arteries in hands? Maybe he’s losing too much blood from the bite.

Grabbing onto their tail firmly with his good hand, Cannon tries to gently pull them back. ‘Small Fry’ has different ideas, because they start screeching and barking like a madman. Their mouth snaps at open air over and over as they flail around. “Hey- hey, shhh, shhh…” He tries to soothe, but it doesn’t work. 

Cannon was really hoping he wouldn’t have to do this. He doesn’t like what he’s about to do, but he has to. He shoves some of the rope into the kid’s mouth and wraps it around their head. He doesn’t make it too tight- they’re hurting enough as is. Before the kid can rake their claws- they have claws- down his arms, he grabs their hands and ties them together. 

“Sorry, Small Fry, you’re not making this easy.” 

He gets muffled snarling and barks in return. 

“Can you breathe, little buddy? Can you understand me? …No? Alright, that’s…fine.” Cannon murmurs, looking down at their tail. Oh yeah. They weren’t going to be able to swim with that. Their fin is torn and there’s an ugly cut running up the tail. Not to mention those bruises from earlier. 

“I can’t let you go just yet, Small Fry. You’re a mess, see?” Cannon says, pointing to their tail. Their gaze follows his and their glare hardens. “Don’t give me that. I’ll patch you up, alright? Now be nice.” 

With that, Cannon grabs an empty tub and dips it into the water before pulling it out and securing it onto the deck. He then walks back over to the little monster, scoops them up, and carefully lowers them inside. 

He is so glad it’s still early. Barely anyone will be on the streets. He’s also glad it’s cloudy- had it been sunny people would have seen the silhouette of a small mermaid in a closed fish container as he drives back home in his truck. 

He’ll figure this out later. Right now it’s finally settling in that he just accidentally caught a mer…maid? Merchild? Yeah. A merchild. He caught a merchild and he’s taking them home. A merchild that bit him. The bandage work on his hand is messy. He'll change it when he gets home.

And half of him doesn’t want to let them go. They’re so…reckless. It’s no wonder they got so banged up. Wait- no, maybe it was the storm. Still, they need help and they don’t understand. They don’t get to not want help. They’re getting it because he said so and he doesn’t know how mer society works, but he cares.

-

Feel like making a part two for this as well. 

You’re looking fine today! Take your vitamins!