#if not for that first murder he could have lived a good live in truth as chi yeol’s assistant and as part of his family

[alexiethymia]

wtf Mr. Ji? I mean I think almost everyone could tell by the first time someone got murdered, but it only solidified when Seung Jae’s hyung got introduced as a red herring. ‘Consort Ji’ and all. It was just a matter of finding out why. Although I think it’s a twisted mix of obsessive affection, and also the want to torment Chi Yeol to make sure he remembers his sister because perhaps Chi Yeol was the only meaningful person left to remember his sister along with him so if Chi Yeol was at peace, what did he have left? Perhaps it’s also a sort of twisted duty towards his sister, to make sure the most important person to his sister wouldn’t replace her.

Despite that Chi Yeol’s love for Haeng Seon was obvious from the get go, he was still nice to Haeng Seon at first because they both thought she was married, so even if Chi Yeol would pine for her, Mr. Ji rightly thought that Chi Yeol would never want to trouble Haeng Seon so they’d never end up together. It even works for him because Chi Yeol in that sad and vulnerable state would only end up relying on him more. But the moment that Haeng Seon was revealed to be single, and Chi Yeol is now at peace with her, Mr. Ji turns about face so fast, becoming so double-faced and gaslighting Haeng Seon to that point that it’s really scary. I mean kudos to the actor, he played the subtle shifts of yandere Mr. Ji so well.

[ladywuvly]

barry sloane +au. +characters rec list!

masterlist. socials. recs.

head canons & imagines |

dbf!price boys your age by @captainfern

dbf!price shotgunning his cigar by @inkbybambi

dbf!price sugardaddy; part.2 by @faith369

bf!price headcanons by @empresskylo

landlord!price moving out by @gatorlovebot

husband!price darling wife by @ghosts-cyphera

honesty by @gatorlovebot - John doesn't like liars.

fixing your bad self-image by @sweetiecutie - You’ve been feeling a bit self-conscious lately, so John decides to fuck some sense into your head.

tummy love by @stoutpancakes

truth or dare? by @soapyghost

don't disobey by @jawabear - A risky move on the field leaves the captain less than happy with you.

steady girl by @jawabear - John loves when you help him trim his facial hair. And he loves what comes after as well.

genesis by @moondirti - It’s the first time you truly see him – this much of him, anyway, and he’s startlingly younger than you would’ve thought. The progression of a spite-fuelled relationship.

eye contact by @kungfubarbie101

two is hardly a crowd by @grippingbeskar 

how to disappear by @fawnpires - After a failed attempt at a date, you unexpectedly find yourself in the hands of comfort of your dorm-mate, also known as your captain.

bartender by @sky-is-the-limit

rings by @glossysoap

what’ve you done this time by @captainfern inspo; @bleuu-moon

just the tip, love by @floralpascal

home is the feeling of you by @maryangelex - You’re Price’s fiancé back home and it’s been months since you’ve seen him. He’s been on deployment and days have been getting lonelier the more days pass. Until you get home one night from work to a more than pleasant surprise.

taking his time by @empresskylo

neighborly advice by @sky-is-the-limit - Your neighbor price takes matters into his own hands to finish what your incompetent ex could never. all in the name of good neighborly solidarity, of course.

cigar smoke and good sex by @lxvvie

helping hands by @deathsimage

break the rules by @bonitanightmxres - Months after breaking up, you and price agree to a “no strings attached” relationship to fill the void in your lives—but it proves to be harder than anticipated when you both start to catch feelings again.

how you deserve by @manmuncher777 Inspo; @sky-is-the-limit

fics |

never let me go 5/5 by @maryangelex - You worked at a coffeehouse, your life is filled with mundanity and you wouldn't change it for anything else. That is, until one crisp autumn morning, you meet the handsome Captain John Price and there’s an immediate, undoubted connection between the two of you.

neighborly 5/5 by @391780 inspo; @hereforthepedrofanfic - You and your neighbor, john price, slowly getting to know each other over the holidays.

the rear window 5/5 by @391780 - spinoff! neighborly!pricepov stalker!price.

soft 9/9 by @391780 - Soap says dumb shit in a bar, Captain Price falls in love with a fat girl.

Songs That Sound Like Sea-Foam 2/2 by @halcyone-of-the-sea - fisherman!price x mermaid!reader.

take me home, country road 5/5 by @ceilidho - 1800s!price. reader flees to his town where Price is the sheriff after a murder in her previous town. only to be mistaken for the mail order bride that Price just sent for ….and he’s not interested in hearing any of her excuses when she tells him that he’s got the wrong girl

callsign: zero 12/12 by @cass-the-mess - 2 years ago you saved John Price from an untimely death, only to disapear without a trace before he could thank you properly for getting him back home safe. You show up again 2 years later to help the task force defeat a new enemy. Tensions rise as you show your true colors and navigate through unresolved issues that puts you and your new team at risk. Are you willing to finally open up or do you keep pushing everyone away to keep yourself "safe".

marigold 7/7 by @captainfern - dadsbestfriend!price (pretty much anything and all things from this masterlist.)

disclamer! none of these are my works all credit to the authors. I just loved them so much figured I'd give them a shoutout!

[fellthemarvelous]

Do you ever really think about what happened in The Resurrectionists?

Aziraphale spent that entire time trying to save Elspeth's soul from being damned to Hell.

Every questionable choice he made was done so because he was trying to help Elspeth and also trying to find new ways to decrease human suffering.

He was working really fucking hard to do his job, but he made mistakes along the way because he is constantly struggling with the knowledge that the rules become a lot more convoluted as life becomes more complicated.

Digging up bodies is wrong, but Elspeth was poor and acting in desperation to take care of herself and Wee Morag so they wouldn't have to continue living on the streets.

He is the one who encouraged her to dig up another body because he realized that Mister Dalrymple was trying to help teach those learning to become doctors so they could do better to decrease human suffering when it was their turn to help others.

He wasn't able to save Wee Morag after she was shot by a grave gun, and watched in dismay as Elspeth sold her body to Mister Dalrymple so she could get off the streets.

And when that didn't work the way she'd hoped, she decided that her life meant nothing anymore and decided she was better off dead.

Aziraphale had been spending that entire minisode trying to save Elspeth's soul from Hell, but he ultimately realizes that he made things worse even though he was trying so hard to do the right thing.

Heaven didn't care that he failed. Heaven has already said "we're the good guys, we're just not doing anything to stop the bad guys". Aziraphale was doing the job given to him by God. He made a mistake, but he thought he was doing the right thing because he cares about human souls. He still wants to protect humanity from Hell. That's literally his job.

Crowley saw someone digging up a body in the graveyard and immediately realized he didn't need to do anything.

Instead he watches.

He listens to Elspeth and finds it easier to sympathize with her plight because he's in the same boat in many ways. It doesn't matter what he does because he won't be able to climb his way out of Hell.

He listens to Aziraphale and he challenges the angel when he disagrees with some of the things he's saying.

He doesn't interfere with Elspeth or Aziraphale though.

The discussion that he and Aziraphale have with Mister Dalrymple teaches Crowley something just as much as it teaches Aziraphale.

Before he learns the reason that Mister Dalrymple cuts open dead bodies in the first place, he's cheering to the idea of more murder.

That tumor that Aziraphale hugs to his chest is just as much of a learning moment for Crowley. He hadn't considered why someone might have a good reason to cut up dead bodies, but Crowley and Aziraphale both love children and they both just learned that a child died with a tumor inside of him.

Crowley didn't realize anymore than Aziraphale did just how much danger Wee Morag and Elspeth were in from digging up bodies of rich people.

It was when Crowley saw that Elspeth was about to kill herself that he realized he could no longer sit back and do nothing.

As a demon, it should have been easier for Crowley to accept that Hell was winning another soul, but the truth is that the entire time Aziraphale was working so hard to save Elspeth's soul, Crowley was able to act as a spectator because she was already headed down the path towards Hell.

Crowley had just watched Aziraphale work so hard to save this human soul, this soul who had just lost the woman she loved who was wanting to end her own life so she could see Wee Morag again, and he realized he couldn't sit back and watch anymore. He knew Elspeth wouldn't see Wee Morag again if she killed herself because Hell cares just as little about how complicated human life is as Heaven does.

He used Aziraphale's money to bribe Elspeth into being properly good so she could go to Heaven. He saved her knowing that he was offering the win to Heaven just so she could see Wee Morag again.

It's important to remember that neither Heaven nor Hell give a single solitary fuck about humanity or the complications that arise as life becomes more problematic. Humanity exists within all shades of grey.

Heaven does nothing to stop Hell. Hell spends eternity torturing humans and other demons. Neither side is good. Neither side is ideal.

And in the end, Crowley did what he did because Aziraphale was doing the right thing by trying to save Elspeth's soul from eternal torment, something she doesn't deserve because she was simply trying to survive in a system that has always put poor people at a disadvantage. Aziraphale learned this too. He learned that there is no inherent virtue behind poverty.

To shades of grey.

[randomdragonfires]

Take Me Down To The River, And Bathe Me Clean [One Shot]

Text Divider by @saradika-graphics

SUMMARY | The Gods have sent her for him, and he'll have her if it's the last thing he does.

WARNINGS | 18+; Canon AU; Smut; Heavy Religious Themes; Obsession.

WORD COUNT | 10.1k

A/N | Another one of my older stories, because @toms-cherry-trees reminded me of this one! This was originally beta-read by the lovely @ewanmitchellcrumbs.

She walked in sin, and had him in a trance.

A lowly servant girl, that was all she was. If he had been in his right mind, he would have never noticed her; never given her the time of day. Dragons did not spend their time entertaining sheep - especially in a time of war, when there were many and more important things to attend to.

The blood of the dragon ran hot, and his had boiled when he saw her for the first time. They said murder and bloodshed turned men into insatiable monsters and opened the doors to affluence for whores - of course, somebody had to draw benefit from the lust that came from making it out alive from battle. The men thought the cunts they got to sink their cocks into were their reward for victory; in truth, they had lost to women who made good use of war-tainted fools’ hot-headedness and filled their pockets with gold.

Aemond was different, however. While men spent their nights with women who screamed loud enough to keep every surrounding soul awake, he had taken to keeping away from sins of the flesh to keep himself in the light of the Gods. In the faint whispers of firelight, Aemond Targaryen would pore over war strategy and books of politicking, history, philosophy and diplomacy - that was when he was not reading passages of the Seven-Pointed Star, to give himself some sort of comfort during uncertain times of war.

He was a kinslayer already. He had to work doubly hard to appease the Gods now. He was a warrior and a Prince through and through, and he knew better than to give in to carnal desires that would mean next to nothing to him in the face of the lessons of the Gods that he had been taught. 

And then, she happened. She had walked in moonlight, and she had been sin incarnate.

On his first night as Prince Regent, he informed the maidservants to keep the candles burning in his study at the library, so he could continue to ponder over strategies to proceed in the fight for the throne. He had walked in while struggling to keep up with the pace of his thoughts, his calculated decisions seeming wrong at every turn and terribly in need of further thought. With his hands held behind his back so tightly that they would have gone red, Aemond walked to the private library where his study was set up - and she had been there.

He did not know if he had seen her before. He did not know if she had attended to him earlier, or if she was new to the Keep. All he knew was that she had been bent over a candle, the low light of which had given him a warm view of her soft face and the breasts that threatened to spill out of her tight servant maid’s dress. Her loose braid had fallen over her shoulder as she shielded the fire with her hand from the night air, and he watched her as she had looked at the flame intently, hoping it would keep.

With her shy little eyes and sharp nose, pouty lips, and nimble hands, she had Aemond’s attention completely, his mind already swirling with thoughts of her, of who she was, of what he could do to her.

Aemond’s very heart felt like it had been knocked down to his gut, with how heavy it was at the sight of her. There was a sense of unease about the slow loss of bearings in him, a feeling that he did not know what to make of. Illuminated by candlelight, she was the loveliest sight he’d ever known - almost divine, like a gift from the Gods themselves.

He could have her if he wanted to; burn her if he wished. He was a Targaryen Prince, now the solemn ruler of the realm - what was he, if not the living personification of fire itself? His peculiar thoughts threatened to give way to those of a sinful nature, and Aemond was painfully aware of it both in the chaos of his mind and the tightening of his trousers.

Through his hazy one-eyed gaze, worsened by the dim darkening of the night, he watched as she tilted her head ever so slightly. It took him by complete surprise how her neck called for him, for his touch. All he wanted was to run his fingers over the newly exposed skin from jaw to collarbone and squeeze her neck in his firm hold; just enough for her to feel his strength and burgeoning desire, but not so much that she’d beg to be let go of.

In the Hour of the Wolf, illuminated by the bright candlelight, Aemond Targaryen had seen the lowly servant girl for the very first time. And the moment her eyes had met his one violet orb, he knew he would never be able to let her go.

“Your Grace,” she murmured; whether it was in reverence or fear, he did not know. What he did know was that he enjoyed the respect from her, just as much as he did watching her bow down to greet him, giving him an ample view of her chest once more. Her voice was an almost quiet, tired one - one that might have belonged to a woman who would choose to stay quiet and unseen if she could manage it.

It was the nature of servants to put the wishes of the royal family above their own - so, of course, even if she wished for quiet, she would have to open her mouth and greet him with the respect that was his due. 

So far, she hadn’t disappointed him. She gripped the sides of her skirts while she waited for him to give her leave, and he wondered how far he could take this little game that he had begun to play. Would she be a willing participant in this dance of theirs that he had wanted to partake in with her? Would she put his needs above her own? Or would he have to bend and break her to have her?

“Continue,” he said, in a harsh tone that masked the growing curiosity in him. Who was this girl that had managed to capture his attention so effortlessly? Would she be warm to the touch like fire that she covered with her hands, or cold like the ice in his wine? Who was she? What was she?

He was a devout follower of the Faith, and was very well apprised of the punishments for indulging in sins of the flesh. He also knew that it would take an otherworldly grip to pull and lead him astray, and to his disappointing yet exciting realisation, he was sure that she had gained that power over him in a matter of moments - like nobody else ever had before.

If he had felt unease at how easily he had found himself willing to give in, he hadn’t bothered with it right then. Somehow, he had known that she had been worth it.

He took his seat at his chair by the desk - his scrolls, parchments, correspondence, and books already laid out for him. She had quietly walked over to the shelves with a dusting cloth in hand and had begun cleaning the older books on the shelves within his line of sight.

He watched from the corner of his eye, all the while trying his best to read from the book in hand. But his efforts had been in vain, of course. How could he have won, when sin herself was tempting him from across the chamber? How could he, when she was right there, mesmerizing him with every movement of hers?

If he hadn’t been so caught up with the voices in his mind, he would have seen her watching him from the corner of her eye and smiling, ever so slightly. Only a moment, and she had disarmed him. Sin was dangerous - and he now knew how.

Her mere existence had left him defenceless against her effortless pull toward him, and the notion that she had not even intended to hold his eye like this and yet still had - she so very much had - only worsened the weakness creeping up on him. 

He was not Aegon. He was not the rake who dishonoured powerless women over a moment’s weakness. He was not the man who seeded women who were not worthy of his blood. He was not the man who indulged in sin. And yet, as he had watched her curious eyes trying to make out the titles of the books she wiped, the fear of becoming that man grabbed him by the throat.

Those who indulged in sins of the flesh were cursed to spend all of eternity trudging through the Seven Hells - and no pretty face was worth that fate, no matter how ethereal she seemed to him. No Targaryen would suffer that fate - he was the blood of the Conqueror; he would not be anything less than ideal. He would not be the first to slip and sin.

So why did he find himself rising from his seat and walking towards her? Hands held back and his breathing even and steady, Aemond watched as she stilled, cognizant of his presence as his dark shadow fell over the shelves in front of her. She did not turn to see him or try to run.

She froze with her eyes fixed on his unsteady, dark shadow, and he enjoyed the nervous beads of sweat that began to form on the nape of her neck, right below where the stray hairs of her braid fell haphazardly. She swallowed, and Aemond's eye followed the slow bobbing of her throat with great intent. 

Was she fearful? If yes, she would have had every right to be. He certainly was afraid - of being carried away by sin.

That was all she was. Dirt and sin, both of which he should stay cleansed of. And yet, his hands moved of their own accord - the tip of his thumb wiped away the beads of sweat forming on her skin, drop after drop. Her breath hitched in her throat in surprise as gooseflesh arose in the wake of his touch and the warmth of his breath, and Aemond could not help the cutting smile that graced his lips then.

Could he conquer sin? He did not know. But he wanted - oh, he so wanted - to learn. And if there was one thing he truly enjoyed, it was learning. With that singular thought in mind, he moved her face by the chin to the side - giving her a view of his unmarred side if she wished for it.

She looked straight ahead, making no attempt to look at him. His hand was yet to leave her chin; if anything, his grip had only gotten tighter. In close proximity, he saw the way her hair curled on her sweat-dampened skin; the way her breasts heaved as she took in laboured breaths to calm herself down as a Prince of the realm touched and held her in his tight grasp.

Aemond’s thumb lazily caressed her jaw and lower lip, fingers holding onto her like she was a startled little fawn who would run if he let her. In close proximity, the swell of her backside grazed his clothed bulge for just a moment - enough to drive him mad with want and take a step back. But even then, he did not let go.

How could sin manage to look so innocent? How could she remain so ignorant of what she was doing to him?

Those who committed sins of the flesh would spend the entirety of the afterlife making their way through the dark expanses of the Seven Hells, and she… she was a test of will. The Gods had clearly sent her to test him, for why else would he have been so easily swayed by a pretty face?

“What do they call you?” He rasped into her ear, while she, to his utter shock, lifted her lips up slightly - enough to send his senses into action. She smiled like she knew the realm's biggest secret, and wouldn't tell anyone until she'd let it unfold a bit for her own amusement.

All of a sudden, there was no chasm, no oceans to separate them - all that they had between them was a slight fraction of space, just enough to breathe. His nose brushed her earlobe and she hissed - if he had not been close to her, he would have missed it.

Her name tumbled out of her lips in faint song-like whisper - a voice made to seduce - and Aemond was convinced that she was some sort of otherworldly creature - a siren, or a fey. Her voice went straight to his cock, and his eagerness was evident as it hardened. She was yet to make even a slight movement - every part of her remained still, and if she were not breathing, he would be convinced that he had killed her with the forwardness of his actions.

His hands reached down to her neck, and he continued down as he traced a path down the soft skin of her arms with the tips of his fingers. His hands reached hers, and he pried her fingers apart, allowing him to intertwine his with hers. He guided their joined left hands to wrap around her waist, and her eyes followed his movements as her head hung low.

The laces of her worn-out brown dress called for his fingers to run through them. The sight was the most inviting one he ever knew, and he let go of her other hand to let his finger work through the first loop. He gulped at getting to see a new plane of her body - it was a very small patch of newly won skin, but it had made his mouth water and mind race nonetheless.

He wondered what it would be like if he simply swooped in, pushed her braid aside, and planted his lips right there, but Aemond managed to hold himself. Would she push him away, or would she welcome him and encourage him to work his way through the second loop? Would she let him go further down her back until his mouth reached the swell of her backside?

His calloused fingertip tapped the skin under the newly removed loop on her back once, twice, thrice. The gooseflesh that arose and the audible gasp she let out felt like the biggest victory Aemond had ever known.

He decided then that if he were going to conquer sin, he would do it looking her in the eye. After all, Princes had to be honourable - and it was not honourable to approach prey from behind.

He turned her around, and she was quick to take a step back - her back hit the old wooden shelf behind her, and he towered over her, his presence a looming threat to her virtue as one of his hands rested on the side of her head, while the fingertips of the other grazed her neck. He drew his face closer to her, and her breath hitched, and he was infinitely amused by what her thoughts right now could be.

He pulled her face up by the jaw, and now she was forced to look at him - he expected to see fear for her modesty, nervousness for her virtue, and shame for her birth and station, which took away her agency when being held so close by a Prince.

He had not expected to see eyes that matched his own fire. Was he hallucinating, or was she truly holding her own against him in silence? He did not know. But what he did know was that meeting her vision from up close had stunned him. From where he was, he would have been able to count the number of lashes on each eyelid if he so wished - and it was that realisation that broke his reverie and made him draw back.

Sin and shame. He had to be far removed from both, and yet, he had almost allowed himself to be drowned in them. Near where she had stood, he had seen the bound books on the shelves. With his one eye, he had made out the title of The Seven Pointed Star, and he awakened - as though he had been doused with ice-cold water.

How quickly had he been drawn toward her? How easily had he almost given in to temptation? His first night as Prince Regent, and he had already teetered close to sin, dancing at the edges of Seven Hells as the Gods’ most tempting offering had lured him in.

“Leave.” His voice, hoarse from being in close proximity to her, had carried through the air but seemed to have failed to reach her. It seemed as though she had been looking through him, past him, and his words had fallen on deaf ears. She had seemed to be in thought as she ignored his grunt, as though she was waiting for him to take his words back and ravish her right then.

He expected to loom over her, to engulf her - he had not considered that she might perhaps seek to do the same thing to him. The thought of being controlled or met by an equal unnerved him like nothing else ever had.

So he repeated himself and held his hands behind his back, waiting for her to follow his command and swallowing the spit that had collected in his mouth. She quickly picked up her rag from the shelf and had gathered her skirts, eyes downcast and flitting about in confusion and shock.

If he looked closely, he might have noticed a slight knowing smile - one that indicated that this was far from over.

She bowed to him, eyes confident - she said much and more with her eyes, he found - as though his hands had not touched her only a few fleeting moments prior. She made away into the corridors - out of sight, but certainly not out of mind.

He let go of breath that he didn’t know he had been holding only when he had heard the definitive slam of the doors following her exit.

He who holds his own against temptations of the flesh would hold infinite power and control over his senses, the Holy Book had said.

His one eye trained over the spine of the Seven Pointed Star, and he sighed. He had looked sin in the eye and won tonight, resisting his urges. But given how she had plagued his thoughts so strongly even after running away, how long would it be before he gave in?

Aemond Targaryen was not a man of depravity.

He was not a man of sin. And yet, it was terrifying to him how he very easily could be whenever he was even remotely in her presence.

It was maddening how gooseflesh arose on his skin even when she was farthest away from his vision, blocked by many others who were positioned closer to him. His palms would become drenched just at the sight of her skirts billowing as she took a turn, without even having seen her face or body. Just the mere sight of the edge of her skirts was enough to drive him mad with want; and want her, he did.

On some days, he would have to sit with his hands held together tightly at the supper table while she served the food, if only to prevent himself from reaching out and grabbing her hand. His heart beat loudly and heavily in a steady thump, thump, thump - so definitive, he wondered if his family could hear it at the table.

What was worse was that she knew. She knew the maddening effect she had on him. Her lips curled up just slightly at how his eye would flit to her chest while she bent down to pick up his plate from the table. After dinner, before he could catch her and keep her in his hold, she would be gone. Regardless of the time of day, he sought her out like a moth to a flame. It did not matter where he was; it was always her that he wanted.

The shame of being driven with want for her touch - a mere servant girl’s touch - had taken over him, consumed him entirely. It spread through him faster than wildfire ever could, and hit him like a well-aimed arrow through to his heart. Only a week ago, he had been swirling with thoughts of battle and regency.

On one particular day, he had caught her tending to the gardens while walking in the corridors of the Red Keep. It was instantaneous how he immediately managed to make out her form even from far away. He stepped closer to the railing and watched with a stoic expression on his face and yearning in his mind, still completely befuddled as to what this servant girl had that had pulled her to him in an instant.

Soon enough, the girls who were with her had dispersed, and she’d waved them goodbye before going back to kneeling down next to the bushes, taking good care to not damage the roses as she dug out the mud.

Hands caked with dirt, possibly. The idea should have repulsed him, but the thought of her placing those very hands on him and tracing a muddy path down his chest knocked the very breath out of him in an instant.

Each day in the following week was torture for him - catching glimpses of her in pieces, in fragments, but never entirely and never enough to properly see her. Each sighting of her skirts, her hair, or her back was a moment on its own, frozen in time. She’d taken good care to make herself scarce, so much so that he worried.

Had he frightened her with his forwardness? Did she fear him? Wanting her was supposed to bring her closer to him, but it seemed to him that all it had done was push her away, oceans apart.

It killed him - how his mind, heart, and soul sang for her, a siren song so rich in wanting that it would leave nothing but destruction in its wake as he sought her out - and yet, she hadn't met his eye after that night when she’d run away from him, but she smiled.

He remembered clearly the way his fingertip had grazed the slightly exposed skin of her back; the way her breath had hitched when his fingers ran over her neck, and how she’d frozen for a moment when she felt his warm breath on her. And her voice - gods, her voice - he kept her name and her voice running through his mind like a desperate prayer, as though it was the only word that would bring him salvation from all the sins that he’d committed.

He remembered the slight upward curve of her lips, almost as though she was challenging him to go further. He thought about her all day, every day - and yet, it seemed as though it was never enough.

When this game of hide and seek had become too much for him, he’d take to the comfort of the night to relieve himself in the privacy of his bedchambers. He knew it was a sin to touch himself and spill into his own hand - but if he had to commit a negligible error to keep himself from committing a grave sin, like taking her no matter how much he wanted it, he would have to.

Aemond spent his days thinking her name, and his nights voicing it out in moans, grunts, and gasps as he let his hand work his painfully hard cock. Each time he pleasured himself, he remembered how her hands felt against his own - he imagined those hands on his cock, stroking each vein of his back and forth until he had himself drowning in pleasure, with white-hot spend spurting all over his hands and stomach. He imagined her hands coated with his seed.

She was an enthralling beauty. Calm, but with tempestuous eyes. Quiet, but with a flame to match his own. He'd hold a torch for her forever if that's what it took. He wanted her like he’d wanted nothing else.

His eye would remain closed throughout - the irony of his eye having to be closed for him to properly see her now did not escape him. It was a need, to be able to have her in some shape or form - almost as though he was at the edge of his body, and she was the only one who could save him from losing himself.

He imagined her face resting on his chest, her breasts pressed onto him. Her hands on his cock, his down her skirts. He’d let his mind take him all the way, and each time he spilled onto himself, he drove himself mad with more want - it was a vicious, endless cycle. He continued until he tired himself out and went to sleep, his last word of the night always being a faint and needy whisper of her name as he wondered what it would be like if she was sharing his bed, his heart, his life.

The shame would engulf him soon after he woke, and he’d grit his teeth at how the gods had chosen to play him. If they wanted him to be righteous and good, why put her in his path? If he was meant to resist her, why make her irresistible? Why play him for a fool? The unanswered questions, those that sound like he had been screaming into a well, gave way to a gigantic lump in his throat.

What she’d made of him - this pathetic, needy, pining mess of a man - could not stand for much longer. If he had to throw himself at the feet of the Seven and beg for penance, for absolution, for peace and quiet - he would. He would do it a thousand times over. He hated that he loved the feeling of wanting her. He was lost on what he could possibly do with the emotions creeping onto him through his blood as he pondered over the contrast.

With his intent and goal clear in mind, Aemond walked to the Royal Sept. He decided that he would fall at the Father’s feet, beg for mercy in his judgement, and pray to be forgiven. He would apologise to the Mother for playing host to foul and sinful thoughts that should have had no place in the mind of a Prince. He would leave himself at the mercy of the Maiden and make his shame known for wanting to defile a woman who’d done nothing but go about her duty. 

She was there, bent down on her knees at the foot of the statue of the Maiden, praying. She was right in front of him.

The Sept was empty, save for him and her. Aemond’s hands went to his back quickly, and he managed to stop moving his feet to silence the clicking of his boots. He watched her intently, fiercely, unnervingly.

He may have come to the Sept as a pathetic man wanting to give the Gods their due for his sinful indiscretions, but her presence had immediately taken him to who he was a week ago on the fateful night when he met her - a starved man who was mad with desire for her.

There was something to be said about how he’d come to the Sept ready to beg for forgiveness - only for the pathetic thoughts to become a distant memory as she invaded his mind once more. He was a hunter with a primal urge again.

Hot, ready, and absolutely ravenous, ready to stake out his prey - with her knees bent and her face unassuming as she let the comforting and safe feeling of the Sept take over her, she had no idea what dangers to her virtue the man stealthily standing behind her posed.

But Aemond did. He mapped out every inch of the skin that he could and could not see from where he stood, and he knew exactly how he wanted to touch, enjoy, and worship every inch of her. From where he stood, the entirety of her looked so small that she could have fit into his one hand. He closed his fist at the thought of holding her tight and watched.

The light from the stained glass windows reflected and fell around her in a bright ring of fiery orange and light rose, and she looked lit from within as the light illuminated and surrounded her. She may be wearing an old, worn-out servant maid's dress - but in the divine light of the Sept, surrounded by all things holy, she was nothing less than a goddess to Aemond.

Standing at the foot of the statue of the Maiden, she was a Goddess he wanted to claim; in mind, heart, and soul. The Maiden had fallen from the skies and had taken to taunting him with her beauty.

In the light, all he saw was her. Everything around her had vanished, and she was all his vision could register. It was almost as though the Maiden was offering her to him, asking him to indulge, rewarding him for all his years of obedience.

Everything fell into place, and all his thoughts made sense. She was sin, but she was the reward too - perhaps knowing that already was the reason why she had smiled. Only she was visible to him in a grand Sept adorned with many religious relics - a clear sign that she was all he was meant to see.

How could he not have her? He’d spent years being the obedient son, the good son. He’d spent years studying the blade, learning the histories of his realm and the philosophies. He made sure to be the ideal son his mother wanted, and now he was a Prince Regent of Westeros. A powerful man within his own right.

And all his time being good had finally led him to her - a sinful indulgence. And if he had earned the power he had, he had earned her too. She was his, and soon he would make it known - to her and to the damned Gods. He would make them all watch from above - all the Gods, the Old, the New, the foreign ones and his Valyrian ones - as he worshipped her in their place, as she usurped them in his world. She would be a goddess, and he, a devoted, starving, and humble man - on his knees for her.

He glanced over at her and then at the Seven statues one last time before walking away, his coat flying sleekly behind him as she finally finished her prayers and turned around. He forgave her for consuming him, his thoughts, and invading his very being. His hand stretched out and laid floating mid-air, reaching out for a girl who had not yet sensed his presence.

In the distance, as a second son walked away with his mind made, the young servant maid’s ears picked up the hauntingly familiar, fading sounds of his boot-clad purposeful gait. The candle she lit at the Maiden’s feet melted away, the sight making for something ethereally beautiful in the bright light.

She walked away soon after, and did not notice as the flame sputtered, faded, and went out.

Aemond Targaryen was a man starved.

This game they played, this push and pull, was enough to drive a disciplined and restrained man like Aemond to his wit’s end. His nights became longer as he stayed up to pleasure himself and moan out her name until the entire corridor heard it; his days became longer in her absence too, as he stayed alert, trying to find her in some corner or another. This dance that they paired up for was an absolute tease - he always found himself reaching out for a hand that did not fall into his grasp, one that he missed by a fraction of space each time.

She would walk into a corner and be gone before he could catch sight of her; he spotted her braided hair in a sea of heads from the dias once, but he could not keep up as the servants moved to work. In the library, in the corridors, in the gardens, in the common rooms - he’d missed her narrowly everywhere.

He had always been a man who worked for what he had. His dragon, his sword skill, his intelligence, his fearsome reputation - Aemond worked hard to earn every single one of his known traits, and as was the natural order of things, he was made to earn her too. It made his patience run out slowly and swiftly - but he did not give up. He would not.

An offering from the Gods was never simply handed over - there are many trials and tribulations to be faced first. And in his case, it would mean finding her first.

One fine day, he did.

He had seen her enjoying herself. She held a basket of dirty clothes to be taken to wash, and her companion was hidden by a wall. Aemond knew that pursuing her right here, despite every bone in his body wanting to, would not be a good idea - he could not afford to be found lusting after a serving girl with such intensity.

But he could stay around for a while and hear her speak. He did love her voice - the hold her siren song had on him in each waking moment was absolutely crushing, and he’d let it take him.

He stood out of sight and heard her talking about the Holy Day festivities out in the city, and when he heard the voice of her companion, his blood ran cold. A man - she had been speaking to and entertaining the company of a man. She was giving him her laughs freely and her company with nothing in return - laughs and time that should have been his.

Her lips curled up in the most captivating way, and it hurt and angered Aemond to think that it was not meant for him. He once again heard the man speak about taverns and dances happening all night on the day of, and Aemond’s hand clutched the hilt of his dagger. 

"Vaogenka Andali," he seethed. [Andal scum]

It would be so easy, so simple to rip his throat out right now. He could easily kill him and take her, claim her right there as the man watched Aemond take her in every possible way with his dying breath. He would do that to every man who dared to meet her eyes and put himself in her path, for he was the only one with the right to behold the sight of her.

Sin of course, was a common temptation. No wonder everybody wanted to partake. No matter. She was his. And judging by her next words, it seemed that she knew it too.

“Apologies, I’m already spoken for.”

His hold on his dagger loosened as his mind and heart caught up with her words.

He loved the push and pull of this sinful game they played, and it seemed that she did too. His smile was harsh and cutting, dripping with victory and pride at knowing that his want for her affections was uncontested. He slowly slinked away, and completely missed how she leaned her head back at the sound of his boots, only to spot his silver hair in the distance.

He missed her sly smile once more.

That night, her words ran through his mind over and over as he imagined her whispering sweet nothings in his ear while letting him slip his cock into her cunt, The mental image of her wanting, moaning and at his mercy while he fucked into her mercilessly had sent a shivering bolt of pleasure to his spine. It was the sight of her looking up at him and batting her lashes innocently that did it for him, and sent him careening to his peak.

On the seventh day of the seventh moon, a day considered holy for the New Gods, the prayers at the Royal Sept were to happen late in the morning in the presence of the royal family and the courtiers. Aemond had to make an appearance in the beginning as his mother welcomed those of the court and noble houses, and so he stood, with his hands held behind his back, trying to spot a familiar face amidst the throngs of people who had gathered.

There are very few serving girls around, she was not there. Where would she be?

Aemond took his leave, and he watched as the High Septon took his place at the front and led the proceedings. He walked out of the Sept through the backdoor, with the faint and dull sounds of prayer running through his ears as he remained within earshot.

“The Seven themselves walked among the Andals in the hills of Andalos, and it was they who crowned Hugor of the Hill and promised him and his descendants great kingdoms in a foreign land…” 

The Septon’s voice reverberated through Aemond’s mind, and given all the shame he had felt and the conflicted nature of his thoughts ever since he met her, he felt the need to listen to the Word of the Gods. And so he froze in the darkened, empty corridor, with his back leaned onto the wall and his hands held together on his front, finger tapping incessantly into his thigh as he listened.

“The Seven had promised King Hugor a golden land amidst towering mountains…”

Promises. What had the Gods promised him?

Almost as though they had heard his prayers, she had walked in. 

She was what the Gods had promised him.

She looked no different from the first time he’d seen her, and his mind was racing. His throat had suddenly gone dry, and his voice was seemingly stripped away from him as he finally faced her.

He’d wanted her for too long, and now she was right in front of him; his for the taking. He would not let her go this time.

The basket that she held in her hands had a variety of fruits that he presumed were for the lords and ladies to eat once they’d finished with their prayers. If his assumptions were right, she was on her way to join those at the Sept to pray. 

The Maiden as he saw her, was on her way to the Sept to bless them with her presence. And Aemond was about to show her that he was the most devout man in the Kingdoms. It did not matter how loud the echoing sounds of their prayers were - he’d worship her like none of them could.

He stalked toward her with the cadence of a starved man, one that had been kept away from his prey for too long. And what was he, if not that? The High Septon’s voice was faintly audible to him, but nowhere close to impactful enough to sway him towards any other course. 

“Spirits, wights, and revenants cannot harm a pious man, so long as he is armoured in his faith,” Aemond heard him say. No, none of them managed to penetrate his thoughts - but this woman, this Goddess amongst men… She owned him. She had his heart, his soul, and everything that he was.

She quickly dropped the basket and her eyes followed the one stray apple that rolled away from them both. She couldn’t for long however, not when he’d pushed her to the wall and held her by the soft skin of her cheek.

Her eyes, meeting his own. His legs lodged on either side of hers. His hand, digging into her waist like he wanted to bruise her, brand her, mark her as his.

She turned to look sideways, and seemed as though she was worried about people walking in on them in the dark, isolated corridor. He pulled her face harshly to meet his eye once more - Aemond knew that they’d all take the front entrance and not the back - they’d be left alone, if only for a little time.

He will have her today. He will have her if it’s the last thing he does.

He ran his fingers over her forehead, slowly bringing them down to trace her eye. Her eyelids shut immediately, and her breath hitched as he travelled further down and met her nose. He cannot stop now  - he will not stop - and he got to her lips, fingers hovering over the outline. He felt the faint dampness from when she’d probably licked her lips not too long ago, and gasped.

It was all he could do to not slip those fingers inside.

Her eyes are locked with his one violet orb, and he looks into her as his fingers map out every little plane of her face. He felt his knees going weak as she held her own against his intense gaze, fire matching his as she refused to break contact with his eye. His voice was hoarse and it was almost painful to let the words out, but he knew that he’d explode if he did not. 

“Do you… have any idea what you do to me?”

“Perhaps I will be better served if you tell me,” she whispered. There was no fear in her, he noticed. He may have seen her as his prey to claim, but it seemed that she was determined about keeping them both on equal footing. It only drives him toward her a lot more. His fingers travelled down to her chin, and made their featherlight way down her neck, moving as her throat bobbed while she gulped. When they reached her bosom, he watched as she audibly gasped, and wondered what other noises he could elicit from that pretty mouth.

“I have been driven mad with want. Sinful, uncouth thoughts that befit a lowly barbarian, rather than a prince. All because….” He gulped and her eyes still did not move away from his. He holds her chin to raise her face, while letting the other wander over her gown and fall on her clothed breast.

“Pride goes before a fall.” the High Septon’s faint voice reverberated through the dark corridor. Aemond is the blood of Valyria; closer to the Gods than men. With his unquestionable blood and status came a sense of pride that ensured that he’d never be looked down upon, pride that he’d never let go of. But tonight, he will. For her, he will. For he does not want to fall - he wants to fly high, higher and higher still with her.  When he faced her, he realised that he would go on his knees in reverence if she asked. 

“I’ve thought about you ever since I first saw you,” he said. His hands squeezed her breast as though he was testing out the action, and he saw how the back of her palm hit the wall and the other gripped his doublet, trying to find purchase as the faint pleasure shot through her.

“You… you are special. You are the Gods’ answer to all my prayers… You….” he took a long breath as he studied her face, looking for any signs of discomfort. “You…”

She raised her eyebrow as though she challenged him to continue, and he wondered if he should. He heard what he’d said, and it sounded no less than delusional - but how could it be wrong, if it felt so right?

“The Gods… they sent you to me.” My Goddess, he thought. “What do they want? What do you want?” 

The hand on her breast continued to knead at her soft flesh through her clothes, and his other hand descended too as soon as he watched her lips part - but that wasn’t enough. He needed an answer. So he stopped his ministrations and asked again, stern voice giving way for nothing apart from what he wished to hear. 

“What do you want from me?”

“I only want you,” she breathed out, her hands covering his as she caged them over her chest.

The Maiden had come to bless the earthly beings with her presence, with her love, and she wanted him. Wanting to wait no longer, his lips found hers.

The air crackled with an electric intensity as their lips met, desire and longing fueling the moment. His hands trembled slightly as they traced the curves of her face, fingers brushing against her soft skin with a reverence that bordered on worship.

Their kiss deepened, and he pulled her closer, his body pressed against hers, feeling the rapid rhythm of her heartbeat matching his own. She arched into him, a soft moan escaping her as their tongues intertwined. The taste of her was intoxicating to Aemond - a heady blend of sweetness and fire that seared itself into his memory, branding him with a hunger he never knew existed.

Time seemed to slow, the world around them fading into obscurity as they lost themselves in the intensity of their union. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer and he reciprocated, as if afraid that she might slip away if he didn't hold on tight enough. Every fibre of his being was consumed by her, by the intoxicating sensation of her lips on his, the soft sighs that escaped her, and the way her body moulded seamlessly against his. 

He pushed them both towards the wall and let his hands rest on the stony surface, caging her. She leaned forward and caught his lips this time, letting her hands wander over the planes of his shoulders, his arms, his clothed chest. Aemond’s hand grasped at her neck and squeezed - enough to elicit a gasp from her, but not so much that she’d beg to not be choked to death. 

Her hands snuck in through the hem of his doublet, fingertips grazing over the bare skin of his abdomen. If Aemond dropped dead right then, he would die a happy, blessed man. Blessed by a Goddess herself.

“Spirits, wights, and revenants cannot harm a pious man, so long as he is armoured in his faith,” the High Septon recited. He recognized the words from the Holy Book, and could not help but agree. As the taste of her lips consumed him and her touch left him in a mindless frenzy, he knew.

Her touch on his bare skin ignited a fire in him that already burned bright, and as he readied himself for more, the High Septon’s distant words echoed through the darkened corridors once more.

“Men bow to their lords, and lords to their kings, so kings and queens must bow before the Seven Who Are One.”

And right then, a Prince of Valyrian blood, a man closer to the Gods than to men, kneeled. Just as the Seven preached kneeling down to the divine deities, he listened. Aemond was quick to hold her ankles and swiftly pull his hands up her legs, hiking her skirts up with each passing moment. The chill of the air around them hit her newly exposed skin instantly, as he made note of the gooseflesh that arose on her calves. He pushed his face forward to kiss her knees as his hands continued their way up, pulling her skirts all the way up to her hips and exposing her already drenched clothed cunt to him.

When his lips met the apex of her thighs, she let out a loud moan. Aemond was convinced right then, that pleasuring her was what he was put on the earth for. What better purpose can a man have, than to satisfy a Goddess amongst men?

As though they could not survive without each other’s touch any longer, her hands pulled at his hair - she wanted more, and he was all but a devoted soldier at her feet, giving her all that she wished for. He pulled her smallclothes down to her ankles, and parted her folds to bring her wet and wanting cunny to his line of sight. 

He looked up to face her, and her heavy breathing and heaving chest filled him with energy beyond that which he was humanely capable of handling. His Goddess had perhaps blessed him already, but he would be amiss if he did not properly pay her his obeisance. She’d sensed what he intended to do almost immediately, and through her barely hidden lust and half lidded eyes, she murmured.

“Anyone could come. Anyone could see.”

“Let them.” 

He pushed his head between her thighs and licked from her opening to her pearl, already drunk on the taste of her. She arched into him, and he took good care to tightly grip onto her thighs, keeping her and her skirts in place so they'd not disturb him. It would seem that his hot breath on her and his nose nudging her bud was enough to have her lose all sense of control and moan, and he relished in watching her let the pleasure take over her with each movement. He then sucked at her pearl diligently before fucking into her with his tongue once more and she pushed herself at him like she couldn't have enough.

“Those who indulge in sins of the flesh would be cursed to spend all of eternity trudging through the Seven Hells.” The High Septon’s voice echoed through, but Aemond was far too gone, far too cuntstruck as he became addicted to the feeling of her pearl between his lips. Why would he be bothered about trudging through the Seven Hells, when the Seven Heavens were right here, between his beloved’s thighs?

He was sure he heard someone, but he was too in deep to care. He’s drowning in her; the feel of her, the taste of her, the scent of her and everything that makes her the Goddess that she is to him. 

After all, how can he not? The Seven themselves had shined their light on her and sent her for him, had they not? The deeper he buried his tongue in her weeping cunny, the more the intoxicating smell of her engulfed him. And he let it. He’d let her take over him a hundred times over, for every lifetime that the Gods see fit to bless him with. 

A thin streak of light escaped in and illuminated her thigh, and he heard her moan wantonly as his tongue continued its unrelenting assault. Her pretty sounds only served to drive him mad with want, and he pressed his nose into her bud as he continued to feast on her and pushed her against the wall with a hand splayed across her stomach, pressing into her as she grinded against him.

Her hands tightened around his head and pulled at his spun-silver hair. Her cries of pleasure were the only sounds he heard as she toppled over the edge, her mind a haze as white hot pleasure coursed through her. Seven save him, Aemond was not a greedy man - but it was with greed that he did not let a single drop of her go to waste and continued to pleasure her through her peak as he lapped it all up. When he stood back up, he did so with a glistening chin, painted with her slick. 

He knew very well from the moment he saw her, that if he touched her once, he’d never let go. What he had not anticipated was how little patience he’d have - for as soon as she recovered from her peak, he quickly freed his cock and sheathed himself in her in one swift thrust. Her thighs quivered in his hold and her hands flew to his shoulders, looking for purchase as she struggled to stand on her own - her knees seemed to have melted under his touch.

He lowered his head onto her shoulder, letting the feeling of her tight heat warm his length for a moment as he stilled. She clenched around him immediately and he mouthed a path of feather light kisses down her neck. Every bead of sweat was visible to him and he breathed it all in, following it with a firm lick up the skin that left her shivering under him. He let his hand rest and pull at the hair on the nape of her neck, cold from being dampened by sweat.

It would seem that his Goddess was as impatient for him as he was for her, and couldn’t wait for him to lay his claim on her. While he was content to stay buried to the hilt in her wet cunt for a while, he knew that they were risking it all - anyone could walk in at any moment, and they had to make it quick. 

The thought of being caught out like this, buried inside of her, would usually shame him. But right now, he couldn’t bring himself to be ashamed - how could he? He’d let them all watch as he took her in all the ways a man could a woman before he let her go for fear of strangers. After all, dragons did not concern themselves with the opinions of sheep. Especially not when it is a Goddess’ satisfaction that is at stake. 

“Lives are like candle flames that can be snuffed out by an errant puff of wind,” the High Septon said, and he agreed instantly. If life was finite, if he could die today, wouldn’t it be prudent to take pleasure from a divine deity that presented herself to him, wet and wanting?

Her hand moved to the back of his neck and she breathed into him, her warm breath hitting his lip as he kissed her once more. She was as desperate as he was, pushing against him in search of pleasure - pleasure that only he could give her - was all the indication he needed as he began thrusting into her, hard and fast.

She let out a choked moan as he smiled against her lips, his own a sharp line that looked more arrogant than happy - as befitting a Targaryen Prince. She lowered her hands and let it slip under his doublet once more, letting her hands roam free over his back and planting her nails into the skin. Aemond was sure that red blood had bloomed where she’d dug into him, but the heat of her, her walls clenching around him were all that mattered.

He locked her in his tight hold - one hand pulling at her hair so she’d look at him while he fucked into her mercilessly, and another on the small of her back, fingers ghosting over the top of her backside - and she was caged in by him. He held her so tight, like he worried that she’d disappear if he loosened his hold even just a little. Their kisses were all tongue and teeth as he rutted into her, hitting her rough spot with each thrust. He groaned as her lips parted, a thin line of spittle between them as he lost himself in the feeling of her.

Her back hit the wall repeatedly and the heavy thuds were in tandem with the wet sounds of his cock in her cunt. Her heavy breaths, the tightening of her stomach, the touch that she sought out and all the sounds that she made, the ones that he'd never tire of hearing, were enough to drive him to madness.

Her hands roamed over all the bare skin she could find, and when he thrusted too harshly she would reward him with blood red crescent-moon cuts with the tips of her nails. “I have… waited… for so long…” Aemond panted, his words punctuating each push into her. “Imagined having you like this, tight and warm around me,” he grunted.

She let out a choked moan, followed by her fastening her legs around him as he lifted her up and continued to let her know how much he desired her. 

“Fucked into my fist each night to the thought of you… Wrong, so wrong…” he growled, and his hands quickly went up to her chest and pulled her neckline down, freeing her breasts. He kneaded at the flesh and marvelled in how perfectly they fit in his palms, almost as though they were made for him to have and hold. With each touch, he felt the heel of her feet press into the small of his back through his clothes. Nudging him, taunting him, driving him mad.

“Want you so much, you’re mine…Issa jaesa.” [My Goddess] 

Every declaration was accompanied by a rough thrust and he felt hot pleasure blooming in his lower abdomen. But he wasn’t ready, not quite yet. Not if she wasn’t. He needed her to peak with him and truly join him as one. He needed there to be indisputable proof that she was his. The thought of her spending the day with his white hot spend running and drying down her thighs was what pushed him to circle her nub with his long finger and thrust animalistically into her, coaxing moans and a blooming warmth in her belly.

“Yours, my prince. Only yours…” she murmured in between gasps, and she peaked immediately after. He was powerless as she clenched tightly around him, and in a few slow yet definitive thrusts, his release came soon after. 

Looking in between their joined bodies, he ran his hand up her stomach and held onto her sweat-coated breast. No sight in the world had ever been so divine.

“Death is never far in this world, and seven hells await sinners…” the High Septon’s voice said as he finished his sermon. Having just found his life’s greatest pleasure in her, he found that he did not mind the Holy man’s words. 

He may be a Valyrian prince closer to God to others, but in front of her, he was only a man. And what power does a man have against a sinful temptress like her? How was he to possibly stay away? If this is how good sin felt, then Aemond realised that he would not mind being left to rot in the Seven Hells if he would be allowed the memory of her in his mind, heart and soul for eternity. It would be enough to keep him alive in the land of the undead.

He stayed buried in her until he softened once more, his hand twirling a dampened stray curl on her neck as he continued to knead at her breast and roll the soft nipple with the other. His soft kisses on her neck were only made better by her tired breaths, and he bit into her neck quickly before he let go.

He missed the warmth of her touch immediately as he pushed his cock back into his trousers, and corrected himself to make himself presentable once more. When he caught a glimpse of the stray hair on his shoulders, he looked around to find his leather hair tie - only for her closed fist to reach out to him. He opened his palm and she let the hairtie fall onto his hand, and he smirked at the normalcy of the action.

After he set his hair in place, he clutched his hands behind his back as he watched her correct her sleeves and smooth down the skirts of her worn-out dress. She smiled at him when she was done with her clothes and put a hand in her hair to tame it, and with her mischievous yet charming grin, she healed all the scars in him that she had not caused.

When she was done, he found the stray apple that had rolled away from her basket and put it in with the rest. He handed it to her and could not resist letting his hand push away the fine hairs that stuck to her forehead. When he finished, he kissed her well, and he kissed her true - no trace of the roughness with which he’d taken her only moments ago, a soft reminder of his claim to her that he'd just staked. 

Their foreheads met and he held her by the back of her head, and he smirked as he heard his Goddess speak once more.

“Will you come to me again?”

NO TAG LIST. Please follow @randomdragonfics and turn on post notifications for all my fic updates!

MASTERLIST

[strangersteddierthings]

Bad News First, Eddie

Part One 🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇FInal Part

"Bad news first, Eddie," Steve sighs as he leans back on his heels, cleaner in one hand and a rag in the other. "They vandalized your headstone again. Good news, I beat Wayne out here so he won't be seeing it."

It's been over a year since they'd had to leave Eddie behind. He'd been cleared of the murders. That had been the easy part, since the Upside Down had exploded out into the Rightside Up. When Vecna started killing people it had been pretty easy for people to realize Eddie was just another victim.

Or so Steve had thought.

Eleven saved them all, the people of Hawkins knew the truth, yet Steve still found graffiti on Eddie's grave.

Eddie's grave is empty, because Eddie's body hadn't been recovered. Too much had happened, no time to mount an expedition to retrieve it, and the gates were closed. Another regret Steve lives with.

Like not taking Eddie's face between his hands and looking him dead in the eye when he told them not to be heroes.

Late at night, Steve sometimes imagines he did just that. Looked him dead in the eyes and said, "there is no shame in running, in living to see another day. Don't be a hero because I need you to be okay tomorrow."

Robin says it's not good for his mental health, these what-if scenarios, but so what?

Steve isn't sure what started it but coming out here to talk to Eddie seems to help him clear his thoughts. He always starts with the bad news, Eddie's voice in the back of his mind. Bad news first, always.

The first time Wayne had caught him out here, Wayne thought he was vandalizing. Had scared Steve half to death being yanked back violently by his upper arm. It didn't take Wayne long for his eyes to process that Steve wasn't holding paint.

"You know my boy?" Wayne always spoke in the present tense about Eddie.

"Not as well as I would have liked, sir," Steve swallowed thickly. It was the start of a friendship, of sorts. Wayne seemed happy to have someone to tell stories about Eddie to, and Steve was happy to learn about Eddie.

Months pass and Steve goes every week.

"Bad news. The new guitarist is mediocre at best. Good news. Corroded Coffin lives on and they finally got a new guitarist."

"Bad news. Robin will not shut up about Vickie. Good news. Robin got that date she wanted."

"Bad news. Wayne had an accident at the plant. Good news, he's okay. I think... this might be weird to you, but I've convinced him to move in, at least until he's healed fully so he's not alone. He's staying in the downstairs guest room. Not that you know where that is. You've never even been to my house... bad news, you've never been to my house. Good news, I really wish you had."

So it goes. Wayne Munson moves in and never moves out. Steve's parents call once, to ask if he wants the house. Steve says yes.

Shortly after, Robin takes a room upstairs. Says she gonna take a year off school before college. The Party moves their dnd games to Steve's giant dining room table. His house is always full but part of Steve feels empty.

"B-bad news," Steve forces the words out around the lump in his throat, "I found out too late. Good news, I'm bisexual. Bad news, good news? I don't know man, the news is I could have loved you. I think I do, but that's the you Wayne and the kids tell me about, so who is to say really."

So it goes.

"Bad news. They're seniors this year, Eds. Seniors! Robin going away to college was bad enough. I don't know if I'll even know how to function when they do. 'Cause they're gonna, you know? They're smart. Too smart to stay in this town," Steve is crying, can feel the tears falling, but doesn't stop them. "I know I should go, too. Somewhere else. Anywhere else. But I can't leave. Wayne's here. You're here. And if I go, who will look after either of you?"

"Bad news. College acceptance letters have come in. They're not even graduated yet. This should be good news, but, heh, friends don't lie."

"Bad news, Eds. I can't remember your voice. I didn't think.... I feel like I remember it but I can't hear it. I want to hear it. I-i need-" Steve doesn't know what he needs, doesn't know how to end that sentence so he just sobs, fingers burying themselves into the dirt of an empty grave.

Wayne gets a phone call one day and says he's gotta go back to Tennessee. Eddie's father -that rocks Steve because while he knows Wayne was Eddie's uncle, he never connected that a father was somewhere out there- Eddie's father, Wayne's younger brother, needs him.

Steve drives Wayne to the airport in Indianapolis. Wayne promises he'll return but Steve won't hold him to that. This is family, and as much as Steve pretends, he isn't Wayne's nephew. Isn't Wayne's family.

As Wayne disappears onto his flight, Steve is left hollow. There's no one left in Hawkins that needs him.

"Bad news, Eds. I think I'm a danger to myself. I keep having these thoughts... like how easy it would be to drive my car into the quarry. Or just slip into the pool and take a deep breath. I don't know who I am, or how to be me, without someone needing me."

Wayne calls and tells him he's coming home. Bringing a guest if that's ok. Steve says okay because he needs to meet the man who taught Eddie how to hot wire a car but not play catch. Also, he hopes to hear Eddie in his voice when they speak.

"Bad news, Eds. I'm too much of a coward to meet your old man. Afraid of what he'll sound like. Because I want him to sound like you so fucking bad it hurts. So instead of being home, I'm hiding here."

And then, a miracle happens.

"Well, I've some bad news for you, too, Stevie. I got my voice from my mom."

[lazycats-stuff]

HEYYY, firstly how are you! I wanted to ask if you could write about a teen male reader with the Batfam. He is kinda like the winter soldier if you know what I mean ( skilled fighter, metal arm..), since he lived with the Batfam he was doing a good mental recovery, but one day he goes back to winter soldier mode on the fam, and they try to get him back to normal again, idk

Thanks you bye !

Hi anon, I'm well and I hope you are doing okay too. I can do it, no worries.

Summary: (Y/N) gets back into the Winter Soldier mode.

Warnings: implications of torture, mind control, mentions of Hydra, Bruce is sad for (Y/N), some violence... And everything else that goes with Hydra and brain washing.

The road to recovery is often a long one. Bruce thought of it when he first saw (Y/N), aka the Winter Soldier. The infamous one, a ghost within the intel community. Many people didn't believe that the Winter Soldier even existed. But the trail of neat and clean murders was the one thing that made Bruce think there is something more.

Of course, the way to get (Y/N) was hell. Hell being and understatement of the decade. Bruce at one thought that he was indeed chasing a Ghost, but something in his mind told him that the Winter Soldier was real. Something in his gut made him chase that ghost.

Months of chasing, fighting and hoping he would be alive by the next encounter, they finally got him. Bruce was lucky to be alive. He hugged all of his kids right then and there. (Y/N) was put into a glass box, strong enough to contain Bane.

(Y/N) refused to back down, refused to retreat. He punched the glass of the cage with his metal arm and some were worried that he would actually brake it. Bruce knew that even if he broke the glass, he had no handler anymore.

His organization has been destroyed. Everyone important was caught. Those who weren't... Well, their time was running out. They may have scattered like rats, but you can bet your ass on anything that the League would find them all. Especially since they didn't burn down their base. One hell of a mistake.

Bruce and the rest searched through the base and they found something that can only be considered as a holy grail when it comes to someone who was brainwashed.

A dark red book, bounded in leather, with all the trigger words written on those pages... Bruce knew that he has hit a jackpot. He looked through them and then has decided to burn it. They also found the footage of (Y/N)'s brainwashing,

The footage, as much as it is damning, making it very easy to persecute anyone they needed, it was also nauseating. (Y/N) was tortured with electricity, memory wiped with electricity... Worse of all, (Y/N) fighting.

It had shaken Bruce to his core and made him triple check the manor security and it has made him check on his sons 5 times that night. He couldn't sleep at all. He refused to sleep that one single evening and night.

And when he stood in front of the glass cage, (Y/N) looked utterly defeated. He was sitting down, looking down at his metal arm and his human arm. He seemed mad beyond belief that he was even caught. Bruce knew he would have to be delicate and gentle with this (Y/N). He had taken the book with him, to try and have some sort of leverage.

And to show him that he was free. (Y/N) was finally free of the mental shackles that they have put on him. Bruce took a chair and sat down near the cell, but far enough to make sure that there was some sort of space.

He couldn't have (Y/N) feel cornered.

He sat down, book in his lap. (Y/N) still looked down, but looked up after a few moments.

" They will come and get me back. " (Y/N) said and Bruce wanted to laugh.

" Hydra is gone. " Bruce simply stated and watched (Y/N)'s reaction.

Nothing. Huh.

" Lies. "

Bruce stayed calm and shook his head. " I'm afraid I'm telling you the truth. The book you see in my hands? The book with your trigger words. Do you really think they would hand it over ever so willingly? " Bruce asked, showing him the dark red leather book.

" You are officially free. " Bruce said as and watched the way (Y/N) reacted.

Bruce nearly broke when he saw hope in (Y/N)'s eyes. He never lost hope.

" I'll never be free... " (Y/N) said quietly, looking at his metal arm. Bruce saw that it was not a nice arms, made with quality. While it looked strong, it wasn't made to be comfortable. And Bruce could see the claw marks at the part where the flesh and metal met.

" That may be true. But you can start healing. You can start working through all of the trauma that they put you through. Mental scars will always be there, but I can help you. " Bruce said softly and (Y/N) was still emotionless and with hope glimmering in his eyes, there was something else too. Bruce could only decipher it as happiness, but he knew that (Y/N) would rather die than admit it.

" I'll be with you the entire way. I have a great friend who can help you unpack everything they put you through. And I can give you a better metal arm, something that wouldn't be so uncomfortable and something that reminds you off the organization. " Bruce said as he looked at (Y/N), holding the book close.

" And what about the book? "(Y/N) asked quietly and Bruce knew exactly what (Y/N) meant.

" It will be destroyed by me. I wanted to show you that the thing keeping you in their grasp is destroyed. Well, will be destroyed. " Bruce said as he put the book down on the chair before moving closer.

" And you can officially start your new life. "

" I'm not sure if I can... " (Y/N) said softly and the defenses were slowly cracking.

" I can assure you, you can. You will have to put some work into it, but it will pay off. I'll be there to help you to start. "

" But the feeling of guilt will never go away, will it? "

" After some time it will. One way is to go through therapy and work it out or you can become a hero. But that only if you want it and after you went through therapy. " Bruce said softly.

" Maybe then I'll atone for it... " (Y/N) said softly.

" One step at the time (Y/N). One step at the time. " Bruce said softly.

And that's exactly what has happened at the time. Bruce made sure to be with (Y/N) before and after the therapy sessions. He made sure (Y/N) knew he had support while he was talking to the Black Canary. And once Black Canary said he could start meeting new people, Bruce slowly started bringing his sons around.

Damian knew exactly how (Y/N) felt. Being in that environment is not easy and it's just the battle of the fittest. And one hell of a battle for your mind. You truly had to be strong enough to make sure to not completely break. Somehow, (Y/N) has kept his humanity, but he had to give a part of his soul to keep it.

Jason just talked to him about stuff and has made sure that he has access to TV shows and movies. (Y/N) needed to be connected to the outside world. And also, Jason has been bringing books for (Y/N) to read. Jason took him his favorites and often took him some classics. (Y/N) appreciated it and liked all the recommendations that Jason has brought to him. It was a nice break.

Tim has always sneaked in some snacks and the two would just talk. It was a hell of a time and since (Y/N) has started school, Tim would help with mathematics and some other subjects. (Y/N) couldn't really go to a public school or any type of school, but he still needs his high school diploma.

And Dick? Dick has been involved in making sure that (Y/N) was getting physical activity. (Y/N) was stiff in Dick's opinion and he wanted to make sure (Y/N) felt good in his body too. Dick did stretches, some tricks and considering that (Y/N) did have some knowledge about gymnastics, it was slightly easier. Not to mention, stretches were something that everyone needs.

About a year after being saved, (Y/N) has moved into the Wayne Manor. It was a nice change of scenery for (Y/N). Beautiful manor, garden, not to mention no noises... And Titus, the Great Dane being an emotional support animal for (Y/N)...

(Y/N) was incredibly happy, but had hard time showing it. Everyone knew but didn't comment on it. They were helping him get adjusted to his new life now and they were more than happy to help. And one thing that made (Y/N) happy out of his mind was the fact that he got a new metal arm. It was black, with red, blue and green accents. It was something to signalized that he was a member of the family.

Bruce was going to adopt him soon enough. Just give him some time and he will do it.

But something happened at the two month mark. Something made him reverse back into the Winter Soldier mode. Bruce was certain that they wiped the triggers from his mind. Not to mention, the boys remembered the trigger words, just in case something like this happened and that they could be careful.

But something must have snapped inside of (Y/N). The boys were careful, but something must have gone awry. Something.

Jason and Dick were the first ones to see it and were the first ones to see it and the brunt end of it. Jason was hurled out the window, while Dick was thrown at the wall like a rag doll. The commotion woke Tim up and Damian was curious as to what was going on.

They were also thrown around the room.

" (Y/N), you are not a Winter Soldier, relax! " Jason said as he made his way through the window, grunting at the pain.

" Please, (Y/N) this is not you! " Dick yelled as he gripped his sides, huffing and panting.

(Y/N), seemingly didn't hear anything and nothing was reaching him. The cold and murderous look in his eyes was more than enough to tell them that they had to subdue him.

Somehow.

Damian jumped on (Y/N)'s shoulders, trying to take his metal arm off. Once they get that off, they are going to be fine. They hope at least.

" (Y/N) come on! Fight it! " Damian raised his voice, trying to make (Y/N) see his senses. (Y/N) didn't listen and threw himself into the wall, back first to throw Damian off and then he threw Damian into the shelves, making him groan in pain.

Bruce walked in from the outside and froze in shock. His adopted sons in various stages of pain and (Y/N) in the Winter Soldier mode. Bruce stayed calm as he glanced over his sons.

They were alive and breathing. That's the important thing right now.

" (Y/N) listen to me. " Bruce said softly as he moved closer, quickly checking on his sons, who were all softly confirming that they were good.

" Look at me. Remember me. It's Bruce. You are safe. The Winter Soldier doesn't control you, you control him. " Bruce said, raising his hands in the air, trying to make sure that he didn't look like threatening.

" You control him, remember that. " Bruce said as he quickly checked on Jason.

(Y/N) looked like he was confused and shook his head. Bruce watched in silence as (Y/N) was getting his bearings together. And once he saw tears falling down his cheeks, he swooped in and hugged his son.

(Y/N) wept as Bruce embraced him and everyone, including Alfred, brought him into a hug. It was a tight hug and Bruce refused to let (Y/N) shatter. And (Y/N) felt safe Bruce's embrace, but by God, guilt was eating him alive.

Apologies were falling from his lips and everyone assured him that it wasn't his fault. It really wasn't his fault.

[dxmoness]

𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐔𝐌 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒 𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐈 | 𝐋. 𝐀𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐞

You are the fifth wife of the infamous Lant Agriche. Yes, fifth. This man had four more wives that were unknown to you due to him excluding you out of his estate.

He claims that you were the most special amongst them therefore it'd be best to keep you away. Going on about how his wives could be in jealousy and murder you even.

Though you pretended to believe his word for it. You knew better. If a husband pushes you to the side away from his life, that means dark matters were at hand.

In truth the way you two hit off wasn't the most effective way of doing so. Just to make it simple, he had just decided to come ‘visit’ your father and murdered him and a dozen others in your household whilst keeping you as a trophy of his feat.

A trophy that was later found more useful than others. He had threatened to kill you at first until a night when you unleashed a demon inside of you, quite literally. The demon had swarmed and nearly killed your now husband. All for the sake of protecting you from harm.

That incident caused the entire discussion that was later referred to as a marriage contract. In which he'd provide you everything you wish for and all you have to do was sit, look pretty and bear his children.

To this you agreed. Why bother ruining an opportunity of living a life of near luxury and most likely die in the hands of some human trafficker? Plus he wouldn't be paying attention to you anyway. After all he's got all those wives pent up in his home.

You now stood in the presence of your husband who seemed quite intent in knowing what you or your children had become after the two months he left you alone in. His eyes landed on the children next to you who seemed ever so cold towards their father.

"Good work." A praise that was so hollow anyone could tell so. "Can they do what you can yet?" As expected a question towards their way of things.

"Not yet." A whispered answer came from you as your eyes came to contact with his.

"‘Not yet’?" Lant growled with annoyance. "I thought we agreed to keep working until they manage. It's only a few days left until our sons come to contact and fight against the other children."

‘Our sons’ you almost scoffed at that. He didn't even care about them at all. The audacity of calling them his sons was infuriating. Last thing they'd, so did you, was to call him father or husband and him to call you all sons and wife.

"Steady progression is better than rushing." You responded plainly. "If we rush, the demons may not gain strength and will most likely not hesitate to make the host feel immense pain." It was no lie coming from your mouth. Steady progression was best for taming demons. If the demon is rushed it will not do your bidding. Indeed it'd rather be a menace than other.

A strike at your cheek caused you to stumble as your hand touched the now red side. It burned like hell. Touching it made it worse. You were sure it'd leave a bruise later on.

"I don't care if they feel ‘immense pain’, they are Agriches." Lant was infuriated. "If you don't make them as good by then, the next day you will receive their heads at your doorstep."

Your lips gave a quiver as you realize the danger your children could be in for. "Very well." A hushed response from you made him satisfied.

Days loomed by and your sons were now perfectly using their demons in fighting. The demons were more than one which was shocking for you, for it took you too long to understand or tame such demons. Perhaps that's where Lant's genes went to. It didn't matter. Now it was the day of the special test.

Your husband's blind arse told you not to worry one bit because they'll be alright. Tell that to the others who died years past! You could almost scoff at his excuses.

When your door swung open, your heart pounded with nervousness. In front of you was a masked man. His eyes gleaming at you, he stepped aside to reveal your children practically unscathed. You rushed to them, tears falling as you hugged them.

"Great work." Your eyes lift to see Lant standing there as well. Your fury was triggered upon just hearing his disgusting voice as your body screamed ‘kill him’, you would. If only there was no guard with him much to your annoyance there were loads. "Don't you think they did well, dear?" He brought your children to a situation as the such and expected you to say that they did well? Sure they did do well in finishing the test with flying colors but it was still infuriating when he expected you to enjoy the thought of bringing your children to a dangerous place.

"...yes. i do believe so." You're practically trying your hardest to resist the temptations of releasing a demon to slowly and rather painfully kill the son of a bitch in front of you. But revenge will need to wait. First you must prepare that day and when it happens, you will bathe in the sweet indulgence of vengeance while watching him suffer.

Your children grow amongst the Agriche children to be the greatest. Even surpassing the ugly half-sibling, Fontaine who was undeniably disgusting and troublesome in terms of activities that he keeps up. But that didn't matter since your children advanced him, ranking top in the chain.

Pleased with their wonderful achievements, you made sure to ensure that everyone knew that if they were to lay one single finger on your children with wrong intentions in mind, you'd kill them and enjoy it.

“How are you faring, sweetling?” Your husband inquires while pouring himself and you some wine to celebrate yet another victory of the children you bore; they had fought against Lant's other children whom you'd just recently met as well as his other supposed wives.

You couldn't help but nearly scoff when you saw the women he had wed, all were pathetic in their own ways. But one of them made you wish to protect her in a way. That one unique wife was none other than Sierra. The woman seemed traumatized, unable to form a complete sentence and always seemed closed off.

You admit that you were curious so the only thing you could have done was spoken to the woman. And speak you did, she ie surprisingly cheerful to be with and she is such a sweetheart. It warmed your heart but you were also reminded that you still had a duty as a wife of Lant, that duty being someone who shows no weakness.

"I've been alright." You respond calmly, sipping your tea. Your eyes do not know where to rest, but you knew it would be better if they don't rest on him.

"Are you truly alright?" Lant seems rather suspicious this evening and it's evident. You nod, remaining calm and unbothered by his suspicion. You will not show him anything that could have him questioning everything.

"Very well." Lant returns to drinking his tea which you knew was mixed with some sort of alcoholic drink. You wanted to pour your own tea at him, but you knew that'd make him fly into a terrifying rage. You excuse yourself and head to your chambers for the night.

That was close, your demons grow restless. All are eager to savour him, but you must wait. You're reminded by your conscience. Patience. But why wait when he's right there? Your demons were countering your own thoughts. You take a deep breath, clenching your hands to regain the power between the battle of your mind and the demons that are becoming insufferable by the second.

You enter your chambers and wave aside the maids, asking them to leave. Alone, you massage your head as you continuously hear from them who live inside you. No. You said firmly to the desires of those who were trying to take the reins.

They are angry, but you did not care. You will wait. Until the time has come, they will remain abstain whether they like it or not.

Slowly, the time came at last. Your husband is before you, you had summoned him here. His suggestive remarks were implying that he thinks you've summoned him for other matters.

He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you to him, your bodies pressing close. You close your eyes and count to five then everything went dark, at least, for you.

When you regain control of the vessel known as your body, you're greeted with the sight of Lant on the floor bleeding out. A cruel laugh escapes you. "Did you truly think thay they'd accept you as my husband? That I'd accept you as my husband?" Your smirk towards him earns a strangled noise from him.

"Oh how silly of me, I forget you can't speak when you're choked! But of course you knew that right?" She referenced a time in their life when he had choked her to shut her up and she'd passed out.

She snapped her fingers and the strangling is put to a halt. "Please...Name, don't." Your husband's weak and frail voice was music to your ears. Despite it being a plead to let him live, it only fueled your thirst for his death if anything else.

"Let me think, hmm." You pretend to think and then you gave an all-knowing smile and shake your head. "I'm afraid, no." She says softly as you step away from him. The demons around him stare with hunger in their eyes.

You turn swiftly and leave the room, leaving them to enjoy their snack. There are screams, violent but oh so melodious screams. Then there's an eerie silence afterwards, he is dead. The whole house knows so.

There's a summoning, everyone must come. The crowds of the Agriche family enter in silence. The demons loom in the sides of the room, they leave the children and wives glancing with fear-stricken expressions. The wives were especially horrified at the prospect of you sitting on the dead head's supposed throne.

You sit on what was once his seat, your children coming forth. "Is he dead?" Your eldest son Alexander asks with a soft voice.

You nod. "He's gone now. No one will hurt you anymore." You kiss his brow and then turn to the rest of the wives, a smile tugging on your lips. She meets to Sierra's horror for only a moment's time. "The head of the Black Agriche is dead, I am the one you have to deal with now."

[zepskies]

A Crime of Passion

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 

Summary: When Beau Arlen decides to “make it up to you,” he’s damn thorough.

AN: I couldn't help myself lol. I wrote this last night. Here's a quick little drabble for the Take Me Home series, set directly after A Good Man Is Hard to Find!

Based on this request from @jessicalynnann.

Word Count: 550

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Implied smut, fluff, and a murder (of sorts).

Catch up on the TMH-verse: ⤵️

❤️ Take Me Home Masterlist

You just…you couldn’t stop laughing.

“All right, you done?” Beau asked.

You never thought you’d see this man blush so thoroughly. It made you laugh harder, though you tried to stifle it with your hands covering your face.

He had you laid out beside him, still skin against naked skin as the cool air began to dry your dewy bodies.

You were lying against him in an odd position, considering your bed now had a deep crack in the bedframe that ran all the way down the middle. It meant your legs were bent at an angle, almost like you were laying in a recliner seat.

You just couldn’t believe it.

This man had really broken your bed.

In fact, he murdered it. Killed it dead. Though you supposed it was a crime of passion, in this case. (You held in a snort at the thought.)

There were even a couple of screws that had rolled across the tile floor.

“Again, I’m sorry, sweetheart. I promise I’ll pay for a new frame,” Beau said contritely.

The truth was, he was embarrassed beyond belief.

Another giggle escaped you, though you tried to soothe him by caressing his cheek.

“Baby, it’s okay. This thing was old. I’m surprised it survived the move all the way from Chicago, honestly,” you said. The twinkle of mischief in your eyes made his face warm further.

“But how damn lucky am I,” you added, your lips curving. “My man quite literally shatters expectations when he makes love to me.”

And despite the unexpected cracking sound that had left you wide-eyed, it had been a spectacular finish. Even now, you were still tingling between your legs from how hard you’d come on his cock. (Twice.)

You slipped your bare leg between both of his and pressed a sweet kiss to his chest.

Beau fought it, but he had to smile at your words, and your affection. He sunk a hand into your tangled hair, first brushing his thumb against your cheek.

“You sure you’re okay then?” he asked.

“I’m more than okay,” you said. He felt the shape of your smile against his skin. You pulled back to meet his eyes. “Better the bed than my back, anyway. Jesus.”

Beau let out a sigh. Another giggle bubbled over and escaped you. You rubbed his arm.

“Think of it this way,” you said. “Now we can go pick out a new bed together.”

Beau tilted his head at that, and he nodded. A smile grew across his face.

“Now there’s an idea,” he said. It was probably too soon for him to broach the topic of moving in with you, but this could be a good first step.

“Right?” you replied in excitement. But there was something else dancing in your eyes. “We’ll just have to make sure the frame’s reinforced with titanium or something, because goddamn.”

Beau couldn’t help but laugh. He dropped his forehead against your shoulder while his own shook. You held him to you and didn’t bother to try and hide your own amusement anymore.

One thing you knew for sure?

There was no way in hell you’d ever let him live this down.

And one thing he would never tell you…

Beau Arlen was damn proud of himself.

AN: 😂 Well then. That was fun, and I hope you enjoy! ❤️

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Take Me Home Masterlist

Big Sky Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

@wincastifer @iamsapphine @roseblue373 @brianochka

@branj19 @globetrotter28 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @ades106 @charmed-asylum

@waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady

@leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu

@nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @deans-baby-momma @tabsluvsu @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

@deanwanddamons @anticxrrupt @lacilou @deans-daydream @deans-spinster-witch

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @iprobablyshipit91

@ladysparkles78 @solariklees @lostin-jensenseyes @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731

@curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow

[asimpwithfreetime]

What type of yanderes the Sullys are?

Inspired by: @elxrastra I hope you like it <3

Characters: Jake Sully, Neytiri, aged up! Neteyam, aged up! Lo’ak and aged up! Kiri

Bonus character: Tsu’tey

Reader: genderless (not mentioned), can be human or any Na’vi race (then again, not mentioned)

General tags/warnings: yandere behavior, descriptions of violence, maybe ooc, manipulating, murder

Content warnings: English is not my first language, gifs from Pinterest, these are all headcanons and you may not agree with my opinion

Jake Sully

He would be the type of yandere to manipulate you without you noticing.

He would not be jealous or act out near you but he has death glares to anyone that gets close to you.

He definitely would be really loving and never force you into anything, you always give in willingly don’t you?

He will say things that will make you change your mind and think the idea is yours.

If in ANY SITUATION some of your friends or your relatives say that he is toxic, manipulating you or anything like that, believe that this person is not going to live much longer. You won’t remember them though, he will make you forget about them.

If you want to leave him because you discover how he really is, he will manipulate you by crying and begging, I don’t think he would be violent towards his darling. Smashing vases and punching walls? Probably. Doing something to his darling? I don’t think so.

Even as a yandere, I think he will try to look like the good guy or the hero in your eyes.

Overall, he is 6/10 violent yandere (not enough to scare you off, because he tries to never show it around you) 10/10 manipulative yandere.

Neytiri

Okay, hear me out, she is a pretty violent yandere. She could smash someone’s face against a tree right in front of you.

She knows you are too scared to run away, also in Pandora, where are you going to run away to? The sky people that are destroying it and will probably try to keep you to themselves? The huge forest inhabited by creatures that could kill you? She knows you don’t have other place to be.

She is also really strong so everyone knows not to mess with her or her darling. If someone tries to pry you off her, she will kill them. She is still pretty devoted to Eywa so I believe she may ask Eywa for forgiveness or cry while doing it.

She will treat you nicely tho. She will give you cuddles and love and will comfort you when you are scared. All your necessities will be taken care of. She might be a violent yandere but she cares for you deeply. She knows that treating you nicely is the best option.

She will cut off all you connections with friends and relatives, you can only have eyes for her. If anyone ever tried to tell you that you should run away, she will go after them, with all her forces.

In a scale, she is 12/10 violent yandere and a 3/10 manipulative yandere.

Neteyam

He must be the best type of yandere to ever exists. He never will let it show with you and won’t even obviously manipulate you. He will be really sly and cautious with his actions.

He knows how you think or act. And he knows you care for him deeply. He will come home covered in cuts and bruises if he thinks you are going to leave him. After a night of no sleeping tanking care of him you can’t even think about that.

He is really sweet with you and will never act out in your presence. If he need a to send someone a message he will do it behind your back. Hugging you from behind and sending a death glare that could send the other person into the sixth ring of hell is his favorite method.

If he is going to kill somebody, he has it planned months before. And you will never know.

If he finds out that someone is trying to convince you to leave him because they know the truth about him he will act hurt, and he will show you he is nothing like that.

That person will be gone soon. How dare they tell you something like that? Didn’t they see how much Neteyam loves you? He will do anything to be with you.

He can go great lengths to be with you. If you ever leave he will follow you everywhere. He can’t physically live far from you.

If Jake ever says something about you, he will defend you but will never stand against his parents desires. He is really sweet but will hide you from them if they try to get in between his darling and him.

In the manipulative scale he is a 5/10 not so much but enough to change your mi d if he needs it and a 3/10 of violent around you, but without you he is 13/10 just overly planned so nobody can catch him.

Lo’ak

I think he is like his mother, not so violent. He has the manipulation like his dad and the violence of his mom. Pretty dangerous combination.

Lo’ak will be pretty protective of his darling and will never get violent near you unless he needs to. Is Ao’nung gets too close or any other Na’vi look at you, he is not scared to fight for you. Killing, on the other hand, he can’t do it in front of you.

Manipulating on the other hand is a piece of cake for him. He knows that you care about him and his situation with his father. Whenever he knows you have seen him acting up or being weird he’ll come to you with a problem with his dad. Your suspicions long gone when you are caring about him.

He will not hesitate in punching someone if they dare to say something about about your relationship. If someone is advising you to get away from him, he will not be scared to kill them.

He goes against everything that his father tells him to do if he isn’t feeling like doing so. If Jake tries to convince him that he isn’t acting sane he is capable of running away with you. Obviously via manipulation.

If you are scared of him he can go about it in two ways: 1- manipulate you into thinking that you were wrong and feeling guilty of doubting him oooorrrr 2- he will scare/kidnap you into staying with him in a secluded place, far away from you and his family.

I’m the scale he is 8/10 manipulative (he can be really good but only when needed) and 9/10 in violent (again he is really good but he must be really needing to do so).

Kiri

I can’t picture her as a yandere tbh. She is really soft. But let’s give this a try.

She is a manipulative yandere that’s for sure. But she is not scared to use the power of Eywa against those who try to come in between her and her darling.

She will show you the wonders of Pandora, trying to keep you as fascinated as she can so that she can have you close to her. If you are distracted you won’t see the bleeding bodies will you?

She isn’t too violent when it comes to you. She will never show any yandere quirkiness around you. She will also make sure nobody can tell you about it.

If you want to leave her side, she might become aggressive and might as well trap you. You won’t go away. Eywa sent you to her and she will NEVER let go of her mate.

She hasn’t killed someone yet, but she will have it as an option.

She is 4/10 violent (only when SERIOUSLY needed) and 10/10 in manipulative.

Bonus! Tsu’tey

He is a pretty violent yandere. NEVER towards you. He will never act violent towards you.

He is not scared to kill and go great lengths to keep you with him. Even if you don’t believe him, he will always assure you it is for your own good.

He has a soft spot for you. He can be killing mercilessly and then suddenly see you and his whole expression will soften. He will hug you with love.

It is really weird his duality, cold with everything and everyone and then the softest when it comes to you. That might be the reason why you are close to him.

He will play dumb at first, pretending that he has nothing to do with the injured humans/Na’vi or the mysterious murders, but he has done everything.

In the scale he is a 6/10 in manipulative, he does it pretty well at first but then he just gets tired of trying. You are his, why can’t you see it? Why can’t all those dumb humans and Na’vis can’t see it?

He is also a 9/10 violent. He is really violent but never towards you.

[themodernwitchsguide]

the egyptian gods

MA'AT: the essence of harmony and balance

in the beginning, well, there were a lot of different beginnings,

AMUN/AMUN-RA: god of the sun and air, supreme king of the gods in some periods. some stories say that he created himself and then everything else in the universe

ATUM: sometimes considered another name for Ra, but when separated he represents the evening sun. he was the first of the Ennead to emerge from Nu, and was the supreme ruler of the gods, and creator of the universe and human beings

RA/RE: when separated from Atum, he represents the midday sun, but other stories say that his aspect changes as he advances his sun barge across the sky. also considered the supreme ruler and creator of the universe. later merged with Amun as he rose in popularity

PTAH: another creator of the universe, Ptah was lord of truth, and the patron god of sculptors and craftsmen (since he was considered to have sculpted the earth). he created the first mound of earth from Nu by imagining it in his heart and breathed life into things with his voice

KHNUM: said to have created everything on his potter's wheel. in a different story he created humans on his potter's wheel then raised them up to the sun so that Ra could breathe life into them

NEITH: a war and funerary goddess, she created all things from her innards. she invented birth, therefore considered the "mother goddess" and closely associated with life and living things

MUT: emerged from Nu and gave birth to the world on her own, or in other stories was the wife of Amun. she was a goddess of protection, guarding humans in life, and against demons in death

MEHET-WERET: celestial cow goddess that emerged from Nu and gave birth to Ra at the beginning of time. goddess of water, creation, and rebirth

then under Atum/Ra creation stories, there were the first gods, called the Ennead,

SHU: the primordial god of air, he was born from Atum/Ra with his sister Tefnut to create the world. it's said that after bein gone for so long, Atum/Ra sent the eye of Ra to search for them, and his tears of happiness at having them returned became humans

TEFNUT: the sister and wife of Shu, she was the primordial god of moisture and rainfall

NUT: child of Shu and Tefnut, she represented the sky, but her relationship with her brother Geb disturbed Atum/Ra so he pushed her high above Geb, decreeing that she could not give birth on any day of the year. however, Thoth then gambled with Iah (or Khonsu) winning five days of moonlight he transformed into days. On those five days, her five children were born

GEB: god of the earth and growing things

OSIRIS: child of Nut and Geb, he was lord and god of the underworld and afterlife. he was said to be the first god to die, after being killed by his brother Set, wherein Isis then resurrected him and they bore Horus.

ISIS: child of Nut and Geb, she was the goddess of the moon, healing, fertility, and magic

NEPHTHYS: child of Nut and Geb, she is the twin sister of Isis and wife of Set. she is considered a goddess of funeral rites, darkness (not in an evil sense), and protector of women.

SET/SETH: child of Nut and Geb god of war, chaos, and storms. although he was the first murderer, he was considered a necessary balance to the good of Osiris. he killed Osiris to usurp his throne, only to later be usurped by Horus.

However, sometimes Set was replaced with Horus in the Ennead,

HORUS: technically there were two Horuses, Horus the Elder, who was a child of Nut and Geb, and Horus the younger, who was the better known Horus. however, they ended up merging into one deity, a god of the sun, sky, and kingship

under the Amun (and sometimes Ptah) creation myth(s) there was the group called the Ogdoad, including Amun and

AMUNET: the female counterpart of Amun, together they represented forces unseen, including the wind and air

KEK: the god of the hours before dawn, he guided the sun barge of Ra from the underworld to earth

KAUKET: the female aspect of Kek, she represented the hours after sunset, and guided the sun barge of Ra into the underworld. Together these gods represent darkness (but not in an evil way)

HEH AND HAUHET: often not separated in any meaningful way, these two were the gods of infinity, eternity, and time

NUN AND NAUNET: personification of the primordial waters, from which everything was created. Naunet is only ever referenced when it comes to the Ogdoad

However, when Amun became revered as a god of creation, him and Amunet were sometimes replaced by

NIA AND NIAT: gods of the void

so then the rest of the gods,

THOTH: advisor of Atum/Ra, he was the god of wisdom, writing, and truth, and was associated with the moon. sometimes he is the child of Atum/Ra, other times he is the son of Horus. he gave humanity the gift of language and marked the passage of time

SESHAT: consort of Thoth, she was the goddess of writing, books, and measurements

ANUBIS: son of Nephthys and Osiris, he was the god of the dead and associated with embalming. he leads the souls of the dead to the Hall of Truth and weighs their heart to determine if they were good or evil

KABECHET/QEBEHT: daughter of Anubis and a funerary deity. she provides cool, pure water to the souls awaiting judgement in the Hall of Truth

BASTET: daughter of Ra, although her image has tempered over time, Bastet was often considered a defender of pharaohs and the hearth. goddess of cats, women, and fertility

SEKHMET: sister of Bastet, she was goddess of destruction, justice, and desert winds. after Ra became tired of the sins of humanity, he sent Sekhmet to destroy them. she ravaged the land until the other gods implored Ra to stop her, where he took beer dyed red (to emulate blood) and left it at Dendera. when she drank it, she fell asleep and woke as the benevolent goddess Hathor

MAAHES: solar god and protector of the innocent, sometimes the son of Bastet, sometimes Sekhmet

HATHOR: goddess of joy, celebration, love, women, drunkenness, and sometimes animals. in some stories she is the wife of Horus the elder, in some Horus the younger, and in some Ra

MA'AT: embodiment of the principle of ma'at, she was the goddess of truth, justice, and harmony

KHONSU: the son of Amun and Mut, god of the moon and healing

MONTU: a god of war and the vitality of pharaohs, he was later replaced by Khonsu as a child of Amun and Mut

TENENIT: goddess of beer and brewing, consort of Montu

HEKA: patron god of magic and medicine, but was also said to be present at the creation of the universe

HU: god of the spoken word, personification of the first word Atum/Ra ever spoke. represented the tongue

SIA: personification of perception and thoughtfulness who represented the heart

ANAT: goddess of fertility, sexuality, love, and war. sometimes she is a virgin goddess, others she is sensuous and erotic

APEP/APOPHIS: the celestial serpent that would assault the sun barge of Ra every night as it travels through the underworld

BA-PEF: god of terror

BES/BISU/AHA: god of childbirth, fertility, sexuality, humor, and war. he protected women and children, fended off evil, and fought for divine justice

TAWERET/TAURET: considered a consort of Set, goddess of childbirth and fertility. guarded children and invoked to help with pregnancy and birth

HRAF-HAF: the ferryman of the dead, he would carry good souls across the Lily Lake to the shores of paradise in the Field of Reeds

AMENET: consort of the divine ferryman, she welcomed souls of the dead to afterlife with food and drink

FETKET: cupbearer of Ra, patron of bartenders

MAFDET: goddess of justice, protected people from venomous bites, later replaced by Serket

SERKET: goddess of protection and funerals, protected people against venom

HEDET: goddess of scorpions and protector against their venom

IHY: son of Hathor and Horus the elder, he was the god of music and joy

IMHOTEP: the deified vizier of the king Djoser, god of wisdom and medicine

MESKHENIT: goddess of childbirth, created a person's ka (life force) and breathed it into them, creating their destiny

NEHEBKAU: joined a persons ka to their body at birth, and with the ba (winged aspect of the soul) at death. has always existed, and swam in the primordial waters before Atum rose

NEFERTUM: god of perfume and beauty, said to be born from the bud of a blue lotus flower at the beginning of creation. associated with rebirth and transformation due to his association with Atum

RENENUTET: goddess of nursing children and the harvest. she determined the length of a person's life and the important events that would occur, sometimes considered the mother of Osiris as consort of Atum

NEPER: son of Renenutet, god of grain and fertility

ONURIS/ANHUR: a son of Ra, god of war and hunting

SHAY: personification of fate, no one could alter her decisions

SHED: god who protected against wild animals and mortal enemies

SHEZMU: god of wine, perfume and plenty

SOBEK: god of water and medicine, namely surgery. lord of marshes and wetlands

SOTHIS/SOPDET: astral form of Isis, represented the star Sirius

SAH: astral form of Osiris, represented the constellation Orion

SOPDU: son of Sothis and Sah, astral form of Horus, guarded over outposts and soldiers on the frontier

TAYET/TAIT: goddess of weaving and associated with embalming

WENEG: held up the sky and maintained balance between the heavens and earth

WEPWAWET: the "opener of ways," a funerary and hunter god

KHENTYAMENTIU: the "Chief of the Dead," a funerary god believed to have created important funerary rites

and the sons of Horus, who get their own special spot,

DUAMUTEF: protector god of the stomach, he represented East

HAPY: protector god of the lungs, he represented the North

IMSETY: protector god of the liver, he represented the South

QEBEHSENUEF: protector god of the intestines, he represented the West

[theemporium]

It should have scared you that your boyfriend was a killer.

The whole town was terrified when the first victim was found. People became more paranoid and frightened with each victim after. Every single sane person in Hawkins, Indiana were having the normal, expected reaction to a serial killer being loose in their home and possibly being someone they know very well. 

And in the beginning, you were just like them. 

You felt on edge. You were scared to turn every corner when you didn’t know who could be on the other side. You were just as scared and frightened and confused as the rest of the Hawkins citizens. 

And then, one fateful night, the killer revealed himself to you. 

It should have fucking terrified you that your boyfriend was the ‘ghostface’ killer running through town, murdering and slashing and killing. It should have fucking disgusted you that the boy you loved—the sunshine, happy boy-next-door that was adored by everyone—was capable of such heinous and horrible crimes. It should have made you sick to the stomach to know the same hands that caressed you were the same hands capable of brutal and merciless murder. 

It should have. If you were normal, it would have. 

But maybe you were just as fucked up as Steve Harrington.

Maybe you were just as fucked up because despite knowing the truth, despite knowing what he was capable of and what he was continuing to do, you still wanted him. You fucking wanted him and you weren’t even sure why. You were still letting him go out into the world and taking more lives, and you were letting him come crawling through your bedroom window after all was said and done. 

Just like tonight, when Steve had pulled himself through your window, acting far more agitated and annoyed than he usually was. 

You barely got a chance to say anything before he was pulling his bloody clothes off (the ones he usually hid from you, or left in his car after he changed) and threw them onto your bedroom floor. He pushed you back on the bed, crawling over your body and not even letting you pull your nightgown off before he was sliding the dress up your hips and exposing your needy cunt to him. 

“I do it to protect you, honey,” he groaned, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck as his hips thrusted. “The world is a dangerous place, not good for a good girl like you.”

“Steve,” you breathed out, your legs wrapped around his waist and your nails digging into his shoulders, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care as he continued to pound into you, his cock hitting that spot over and over and over. 

“M’doin’ this for you,” he gritted out through clenched teeth, his heavy breathing fanning across the sensitive skin of your neck and you couldn’t help but mewl as his lips traced along your pulse point. “Need the world to be perfect for my girl. They don’t fucking deserve you, honey. They don’t fucking deserve to even look at you, let alone breath.”

“Oh shit,” you cried out, pushing your head back further into the pillow as your lips parted with a silent scream.

“Youyouyouyouyou,” he continued to chant as he fucked you, as his hips left bruises on your hips from his tight grip as his teeth marked up the skin on your throat. He was doing all of this for you, he was doing it so the world he envisioned with a future for you two in it was absolutely fucking perfect. 

Everything he did would always be for you.

“Gonna keep you here,” Steve said between short and heavy pants, each word emphasised with a thrust of his hips. “All fucked out and pretty, just f’me. Whatcha think, honey? You wanna stay here and be my perfect, lil’ angel?”

You nodded dumbly, not a single coherent thought in your head able to string a sentence together. 

“Mine forever,” he growled as he lifted his head, his lips just brushing against yours as he completely bottomed out inside you, staying there for a short comment. “Yeah? All mine, honey. M’gonna show the world you’re all mine.”

One hand rested beside your head to keep himself hovering above you, but the other started to trace down your body until the warmth of his palm stopped on your stomach. 

“Gonna knock you up, honey,” Steve murmured, letting out a soft groan when he felt your walls clenching around him. “Yeah? You like that? You like the idea that I knock you up? Fill you up? Keep you as mine forever? Bet you’d look so pretty carrying my children, honey. So fucking perfect.”

“Please,” you rasped out, not even caring about anything other than your boyfriend filling you up.

“Shhh, don’t cry,” he cooed, a little mocking as he began to move again, as he held your face in his hand as he fucked you. “I’ve got you, honey. M’not going anywhere. Gonna stay right here and fuck you all night until that pretty pussy of yours is mine, you hear me?” 

You nodded again. 

“Good girl,” Steve murmured with a grin on his face. “Now hold your legs to your chest, honey. Gonna fuck you and make sure you keep every single drop inside you or m’gonna have to plug you up.”

.

[unrealcity-if]

a cyberpunk interactive fiction

demo: prologue 1&2, 20k. play here.

Streets, empty - gnarled roots burying deep below the city. The gleam of teeth, an endless buzzing like flies. Dry, dead rock. There was water here once. Now toxic sludge seeps into the dirt, leeching life from the land. They staked metal, twisted it into the dead earth to block out the sky. They know that is too late, but they try to defy fate all the same.

Esurio is a city divided. You know this all too well. As a smuggler of black-market tech into the city from the outlands, you would like nothing better than to be free of Esurio once and for all. Yet the city seems to pull people in, and after a job gone wrong you find yourself entangled in a net of lies, inexplicably strange murders, and the one question that no-one knows the answer to -

What lies below Esurio?

[features]

pay off your debt through smuggling goods into the city

run from law enforcement

investigate strange murders, while trying not to end up the next victim

regret every life decision you have made

uncover what lies below the city?

meet (and optionally romance) 5 companions - 2 gender selectable

finally free yourself from Esurio?

[companions]

[ros]

Argo [nb] they/them, asexual :

If there's anyone in Esurio that you trust, it would be them. They've been by your side since you were young : first as friends and then (literal) partners in crime. When they were younger, they dreamt of changing the world. At some point they buried that dream. For now they keep to smuggling, hacking, and breaking every speed limit possible.

Appearance - shoulder-length coily dark brown hair, medium brown skin, dark brown eyes. prides themself on wearing the most colourful jacket they can find, and wouldn't know colour or outfit coordination if it hit them in the face.

Sora [f/m] she/her or he/him :

A private investigator with a moralistic streak. They attempt to fill in the gaps left by law-enforcement, dealing in all kinds of information, and know practically anything on anyone, while remaining a perpetually shadowy figure themselves. Motivated by curiousity and an alarming lack of self-preservation instincts, they're determined to uncover the truth about Esurio at all costs.

Appearance - straight, dark brown hair that flops over their brown eyes. olive skin. always wears a leather jacket and heavy boots: dresses practically. carries gadgets + a notepad in their bag: they are prepared for anything, especially a high speed pursuit across rooftops.

Bront�� [f/m/nb] she/her, he/him, or he/they :

A failed musician with a trail of poor decisions behind them. They were going to make it big in the underground music scene, until, one day, they weren't. Cast-out and adrift, they're cynical and conflicted, a perfect example of a delicately poised balancing act. It's only a matter of time before they fall.

Appearance - wavy blond hair, dyed purple at the ends, reaching about chin length. pale, freckled skin and green eyes. wears light jackets, oversized tshirts, boots that are falling apart, and as many bracelets as possible.

Asha [f] she/they :

She ran with Argo, Jaya and you for several years, after her illustrious political family abruptly fell from grace and she had to look out for herself any way she could. A skilled mechanic, and never one to back down from a fight, she bounces from person to person, always living life at high speed. After Jaya's disappearance, she split from the group, and you haven't spoken to her since.

Appearance - straight, shoulder-length black hair. dark brown skin and dark brown eyes. wears work overalls most of the time, and is frequently covered in smudges of oil fromch her work as a mechanic. else, she dresses casually and comfortably - loose shirts, ripped jeans and a necklace.

Cas [m] he/him :

An artefact dealer in the outlands. You know his name, and not much else. He seems to float from place to place, avoiding strong attachments. Never talks about his past, his strange dreams, and pretty much anything personal. Knows what to do in a crisis, though, and is frequently the voice of reason.

Appearance - straight, short light brown hair, fair skin, eyepatch over his right eye - his left is brown. wears glasses. Always in a fashionable long dark coat and heavy boots: somehow manages to look constantly poised and well put together despite Esurio's characteristic humidity.

[other]

Acheron [nb] they/them :

They control much of what flows from the outlands into the city. After they rescued Argo and you from capture by law enforcement, you have been working for them in order to pay off your debt to them. They're level headed and ruthless, and you can't work out what makes them tick.

Jaya [f] she/her :

She was part of the underground smuggling group involving you, Argo and Asha, until she disappeared abruptly and everything went to shit. To this day, you've been unable to find out what happened to her. But thats in the past, right? [option to have been in a past relationship with her]

Valentine [nb] she/her and he/him :

Practically anyone in Esurio knows Valentine, or has at least heard of her. She's the person to go to for weird tech, fast cars and a way to vanish quietly. Despite her notoriety, and her fame as a guitarist, she always seems to be able to work just under the radar of the authorities.

[content warnings]

17+ (may be subject to change). violence, slight gore, horror aspects. implied sexual content.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Emily's shoulder Charlie: "There is still good in Sera. Her intentions have been horridly corrupted, but they once came from a desire to protect and preserve. We can help her see the truth and return to goodness!"

Emily's shoulder Vaggie: "PUNCH HER IN HER STUCK-UP ANGEL FACE!"

XD chaggie down in hell having a rest after the drama, meanwhile EMILY-

Emily: "I'm not sure the face punching idea would even work. Sera's too tall..."

Shoulder Vaggie: "Trust me, she's sunk low enough for you to reach."

Shoulder Charlie: "Which MEANS she's ALSO in the perfect position for HUGS!!!"

Emily: "I don't even know how to throw a punch."

Shoulder Charlie: "And that's fine!!"

Shoulder Vaggie: "No problem. Just think about that that time you found out souls were being permanently wiped from existence once a year in the name of protecting heaven bc Sera was scared people might not actually like being damned and tortured for all eternity and figured just letting Adam murder them was the best way to keep sinners away from the pearly gates. Not that you needed to know any of that, though. It was fine if you sat happily up on your cloud, far above the mountain of dead bodies piled up to keep it safe."

Shoulder Charlie: "....We could punch her a little, maybe."

Emily: "Charlie!"

Shoulder Charlie: "I'm sorry! You think Vaggie's making a REALY good point, is the thing!"

Emily: "Why do my hands suddenly hurt-?"

Shoulder Vaggie: "It's called clenching your fists. You're making a fist with your hands for the first time ever. Good job. Don't tuck your thumb though."

Emily: (untucks thumb) "I still can't just punch Sera. It wouldn't make anything better!"

Shoulder Charlie: "We could call it a, uh, direct demonstration of our opinions on the matter. Or a lived example of why violence is bad!"

Emily: "You're not supposed to be arguing for punching!"

Shoulder Charlie: "I said I'm sorry! But the only time you met me, the real me, I spent the end of the day burning with rage and yelling at people about it! And it's my girlfriend you've got advocating for the face punching- I can't help that you think I'd be kinda down for it!!"

Shoulder Vaggie: "The whole dating me thing is a pretty big clue she's at least not turn off by violence, if it's for helping people instead of, y'know. Murder."

Emily: "Vaggie- help me. The real you was more quiet and cautious-"

Shoulder Vaggie: "Probably because of the blackmail."

Emily: "-you, you tried telling Charlie to keep a cool head! Tell me that too!"

Shoulder Vaggie: "Remember that thing where it turns out real me used to be an exorcist, used to do that murder stuff? And got left behind in hell? Probably for the whole not liking the murder thing?"

Emily: "I was trying not to remember that..."

Shoulder Vaggie: "You're not a princess of hell or a lowly ex-exorcist. You're a seraphim. You could punch Sera and get away with it."

Emily: "Ugh.."

Shoulder Charlie: "But only a LITTLE punch, okay? Gently. Gently punch."

Shoulder Vaggie: "That's not how it works babe but sweeet thought."

Emily: (SIGHS) (stops arguing internally with herself)

Sera: "....."

Sera: "Are you alright, Emily."

Emily: (despondent) "I'm fine, Sera."

Sera: "You seem a bit, droopy. I haven't even had proper glimpse of your face all day."

Emily: "Sorry. I just can't look at you right now."

Sera: (devastated) "...oh."

Sera: (rallying) "Well it will pass in time, I'm sure. Once you understand things better."

Emily: (hiding fists in skirts) (urge to punch) (RISING) "SuRE."

Emily: "..."

Emily: "Oh you know what? We haven't talked about Sir Pentious today!"

Sera: "Haven't we."

Emily: "We haven't, actually!" (smugly smooths out skirts) "He's settling in here nicely, isn't he? Isn't it wonderful having a new angel in heaven? Seeing him around, so amazed at everything- being so sweet and kind as he finds his way around after dying to protect his friends- Isn't it such an extra blessing, that he made it here aaaaallllll the way from hell? Aren't we lucky Charlie and Vaggie's hotel for reforming sinners is a thing? And is STILL a thing, even after Adam and Lute tried killing them all? On our orders? Which- thank heaven!- didn't work?"

Sera: (eye twitch) (eye twitch) "Indeed."

Emily: "I'm sure they'd be SO happy to see how well Sir Pentious is doing." (beaming) "We should invite them back sometime!"

Sera: (Glowering) "....."

Emily: "See I knew you'd agree Sera. You're overprotective- but that doesn't make you vindictive and petty, right? Right. You're not like Adam, may he rest in peace- Now, about setting something up to help the transition go more smoothly, the next time a sinner earns their place in heaven..."

-down in hell-

Vaggie: "You've got a great frown line going on, sweetie. What's up?"

Charlie: "Oh it's silly, but...

Charlie: "...Is Emily going to be okay up in heaven, do you think? After finding out about. Y'know."

Vaggie: "If she's anything like you? No."

Charlie: (whimpers) (frown x2)

Vaggie: "But if she's half as brilliant as you are, then she'll figure something out."

Charlie: "If she's so much like me, then she's also a Charlie without her Vaggie. That's not much of a Charlie."

Vaggie: "You did fine in Cannibal Town alone, babe."

Charlie: "Only AFTER thinking about you!"

Vaggie: "Well- uhh-" (tries not to smile) (smiles a lot) "Sir Pentious is up there? He counts for something."

Charlie & Vaggie: (stare up at heaven)

Charlie: "....think he's already blown up the pearly gates?"

Vaggie: "If his Egg Boiz haven't shown up there yet? Yeah. Probably."

-pearly gates-

Sir Pentious: (clinging to the wreckage of the gates) "THEY ARE VERY SSSSIMPLE BOIZ! THEY MIGHT NOT REMMBER HOW TO KNOCK OR CONSSTRUCT AND EXSSSSPLOSSIVE POWERFUL ENOUGH TO GET THEM PASSSSSST IT!"

Sera: "That is why we have Peter keeping WATCH on the gates! We do NOT detonate the gates of heaven with several tons of TNT- singeing Peter's wings in process!"

St. Peter: (coughs smoke) "Ow~"

Sir Pentious: "BUT THEY ARE SSSSSMALL! WHAT IF THEY GET OVERLOOKED? MY BOIZSS!!"

Emily: "We could just leave the gates open-"

Sera: "NO!"

Emily: (leaning in to pentious) (whispering) "I'll leave the gates open an Egg Boi sized gap okay? Don't worry."

[sourlove]

I loved your new post about yandere mha boys with pregnant reader I was wondering if you could do one where the baby isn’t there’s and they don’t realise until it’s born ? Pleaseee

YANDERE MHA 'YOU ARE NOT THE FATHER!'

ft. Midoriya, Bakugo, Todoroki, Aizawa

TW: OBSESSION, YANDERE THEMES, ACCUSATIONS OF CHEATING, KIDNAPPING, METIONED MURDER, MENTIONED BABY-GO-BYE-BYE BUT LIKE SUBTLY i hope

Thanks for the ask!

READ PART 1 HERE

MIDORIYA IZUKU

Oh dear...that's certainly a problem. The birth of your first child was something he was looking forward to with a lot of hope. Hope that seeing him caring for the child would spark a love for him finally. Unfortunately, it's obvious the child wasn't his, and they didn't look like you either.

You had cheated on him. Well, not actually. In truth, by the time Izuku kidnapped you, you were already pregnant with your current partner, who Izuku got rid of, but none of you were aware of it at the time. But acknowledging that was acknowledging that Izuku's image of a perfect family had shattered and it was all his fault.

So he blames you. Throws all sorts of accusations about you cheating and sneaking out to see other men, and then dumping your bastard baby on him. He refuses to have anything to do with the child and only used them to keep you in line, threatening to get rid of them if you misbehaved. Izuku felt broken. He felt as if everything had taken a sudden wrong turn in his life. He felt like he just lost control of the life he had planned. Everything was going to be perfect, your lives were going to be perfect. Then you had to go and spoil it all.

The only thing you can do at this point is try to make him happy. Maybe if you have a couple of kids that are actually his, he will be willing to forgive you and accept that child as a member of his family.

BAKUGO KATSUKI

Katsuki is angry. But not at you, he's just pissed that he didn't see something like this coming. When that filthy bastard that used to call himself your boyfriend put his hands all over you, how could Katsuki forget? If he had known sooner, he could have done something to stop it before it got too far.

But he's too late now. Worst part is, he has to watch you pay more attention to a brat that isn't even his. Katsuki grudgingly helps with the baby, still a bit resentful that he wasn't the one to knock you up first. The kid starts to grow on him soon. The little brat sort of reminds him of you and he can even pretend it's his for a moment.

It's not too bad, Katsuki decided one night as the baby lay fast asleep on his chest and you curled up next to him on the couch, dozing off as well. Maybe he was cut out for this family shit after all.

TODOROKI SHOTO

Oh boy...

He's relieved that he technically had no part to play in it but he's also very pissed. Who would dare to touch his darling? He hates the thought of anyone being able to impregnate you other than him.

Shoto is literally acting hot and cold, sometimes being helpful and supportive, other times dismissive and harsh. He's not quite sure what to do with another man's baby. All his fears about bringing in a child that has his family traits have disappeared but there's still an actual, living baby to consider.

He tries to get out of his head a bit when he sees you are actually struggling to take care of the baby and of yourself too. All things considered, he still loves you. For now, Shoto will just concentrate on keeping the baby alive and keeping you happy.

AIZAWA SHOTA

He's surprisingly chill about the whole affair. As an underground hero, Shota's seen a lot of people in a lot of different situations. Things like this just happen. While he's definitely surprised, he adapts pretty quickly. He's a pretty good dad, very reliable when you're not feeling a 100%. It really improves your opinion of him and makes you more comfortable around him.

Don't let your guard down though. Shota isn't going to settle for just one kid. Once you're healed, get ready to get pregnant again :)

I HAVE A MASTERPOST WITH LINKS TO MY YANDERE MHA HEADCANONS AND FANFICS HERE

A/N: Please leave a like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed this! Also tagging people can be a bit confusing because I always forget who wants to be tagged so if you do want to be tagged, please specify whether you want to be tagged for a particular series or for all my work.

[yongbokology]

baby daddy! satoru x baby mama! reader

black coded reader <3

warnings; none really, just fluff tbh

wc; 1.1k

an: maybe i’ll write a part where the actual baby making takes place if this doesn’t flop 🤷🏾‍♀️

* baby daddy! satoru who looks at you with wide eyes as you show up to his apartment with a positive pregnancy test. before this situation you both were friends with benefits for a year and some change; having met him during your shift at the bar you currently work at.

* baby daddy! satoru who nearly falls over once you decide that you want to keep it (after all, it’s him we’re talking about)

* baby daddy! satoru who respects your decision after the initial shock and let’s it be known that’s he not going to be a deadbeat… (unlike someone)

“please don’t tell me we have to get married.”

you roll your eyes as you continue to clean the used shot glasses left behind by patrons.

“i’d rather self amputate my arms and legs, satoru.”

* baby daddy! satoru who tries to make it to as much doctors appointments as he can— sometimes even taking off of work for them.

“so, you’re currently at the end of your first trimester. everything is looking good, baby is looking healthy. any questions?” the doctor smiles sweetly at the both of you as she looks through yours and the baby’s charts.

satoru sits up from his chair, eyes perking up in the process “how long until you can tell if it’s going to be the most powerful being in the world?”

“satoru!”

“what… just curious..”

* baby daddy! satoru who secretly buys everything on your registry.

* baby daddy! satoru who watches you marvel at everything he bought, acting surprised with you.

* baby daddy! satoru who poses the idea of the both of you having a place together after a serious talk with shoko.

“don’t you think it would be safer for both her and the baby? y’know cuz you’re practically cursed.” a freshly lit newport hangs off her lips as she eyes her old friend.

“what?! i’m not cursed..”

“think about it— the world shifted off kilter when you were born. people were quite literally planning your murder before you could walk. you don’t think they’ll be rubbing their hands at the chance to get at your offspring?”

satoru breaks his friend’s stare and chooses silence, opting to take another bite out of his onigiri.

* baby mama! reader who accepts the offer because you’re literally just a twenty-something girl trying to navigate this unfair world, living paycheck to paycheck (😪)

— fear not tho because baby daddy! satoru got his baby mama covered!

* baby mama! reader who gets to know satoru more since moving in and he’s honestly such an interesting character.

* baby mama! reader who thinks it’s truly nice seeing him for who he was rather than him being a complete whiny mess after an orgasm for a change.

“do you just starve yourself all day? there’s literally nothing here to eat, toru!” you have your hand placed on six month old pregnant stomach and the other is holding open his stupidly expensive smart fridge that currently has one singular bento box that is half eaten.

“i don’t know how to cook!”

“good lord, what am i going to do with you?”

* baby mama! reader who takes off from the bar after satoru essentially pleads on his knees for you to stay home.

- he eventually convinces you to quit altogether.

* baby mama! reader who learns the truth about satoru’s job after waiting for him at the and seeing a fucking panda just holding a conversation with some weird kid with markings around his mouth, simply replying with “salmon.”

* baby daddy! satoru who thought it would be fine to just have you sit tight for a couple of minutes while he checks up on his students since he’s been off from work but clearly he was wrong when he comes back to see you bug-eyed and pacing back and forth.

you’re already trampling over your own words when satoru walks over to you with a concerned look on his face. “w-why did i just see a fucking talking panda satoru!”

he’s sliding a hand over his face and is pulling you into the nearest room and sliding the door shut behind him. it’s there that he explains the world of jujutsu sorcery and what he does and why you saw a talking panda roaming about.

he decides to kill two birds with one stone that day and introduces you to his students and the both of you are bombarded with a magnitude of questions.

there’s a brunette who hasn’t taken her hands off your stomach since introduction and there’s a pink haired young man who’s enamored with you overall.

“kinda surprising someone would willingly have a child with you.”

the brunette takes her hands off your stomach to pound her fist into the dark-haired kid whose names you learned was megumi.

(you caught a glimpse of a younger version of him tucked into satoru’s wallet after spending the whole day in the grocery store)

“just because we’re all thinking it doesn’t mean you have to say it out loud, fushiguro.”

* baby mama! reader who grows fond of the trio after initial introduction and ends up seeing them more often after that.

* baby daddy! satoru who doesn’t mind one bit and opens up his house so you could spend more time with them.

* baby daddy! satoru who’s in the middle of an intense fight but stops once he hears the specific ringtone he picked out for you.

“give me a minute would you? someone rather important is calling.”

his opponent is stunned and confused at the sheer audacity yet they don’t dare move an inch.

satoru presses his phone to his ear, a soft smile appearing on his lips as he answers you. “what’s going on, pretty girl?”

“baby. coming. now.”

“be right there.”

satoru’s smile drops as he reverts his attention back to his opponent, his arms preparing to conjure a finishing blow.

“sorry to cut our playtime short but someone truly worthy of my time just called.”

* baby daddy! satoru who makes it just in time to see his beautiful son being born.

* baby mama! reader who’s exhausted from giving life to a literal being. you’ve got your arms wrapped around the newborn that finally stopped crying all while sharing glances between you and satoru.

* baby daddy! satoru who has this weird feeling in his stomach after receiving his son in his arms. the expression on his face resembles one of pure bliss as he takes a seat in the chair not too far from your hospital bed.

after much-needed reassurance and satoru helping you to sleep, he’s slowly pacing around the room with your son, whispering sweet nothings and quiet promises.

“not that i doubted it for a second but you’re certainly mine alright.”

he smiles at the piercing blue eyes staring right back at his own.

* baby mama! reader who isn’t actually sleeping and watches the both of them with tired eyes and in that moment knows she made the right decision and is content with the possibility of a domestic life with the strongest sorcerer of the modern age.

.

.

.

© yongbokology y2k23

feedback is encouraged.

boarder credz @leopardprnt

[https-furina]

✎ when you love someone. ft. lyney x fem!reader content: heavy angst, death/murder, fontaine archon quest spoilers, detail to injury, ooc lyney while i’m practising. not proofread. w.c. tba.

there's a melancholic harmony that comes with dating that infamous, ash blond magician who's name is uttered from every fontainian's mouth across the country. 'he's miraculous!' they exclaim, eyes glittering like stars as they leave the opera epiclese, grins wide on their faces. he truly is, you think to yourself as you follow the crowds out on some evenings after witnessing your boyfriend's abilities for the nth time. yet you also know better than this. the lies intertwined between soft kisses shared in the moonlight and the forced smiles he'll throw in anyone's direction.

lyney knows better too when he fumbles for his house key, a gloved hand fishing into his pockets to pull out the cold metal. a prospect he never thought he'd grasp when he devoted himself to the orphanage beside his sister, starved and defensive. there's almost a pained smile on his face when he calls out to you that he's home. at this hour of the night, the court of fontaine is a quiet city, especially in this quarter. the night life clings to the hotels that bustle with activity, drinks and other numerous acts that people indulge themselves in to drown their pains out - but he knows that the house he'd made a home with you was never this quiet.

it's a strange thought to him that you'd ever go to bed without waiting up for him first - that was your favourite routine, curled up on the couch with a plate of fresh conch madeleines you'd baked earlier in the day. a crocheted blanket would be draped over your bare legs, one of lyney's own white dress shirts hanging flimsily from your frame with the buttons done up. he would grin at the imagery if only it wasn't for the slow, tense anxiety creeping up his spine, leaving a trail of hairs standing on edge at the silence you'd left him with.

"ma chérie?" he calls out again, that sweet nickname rolls from his tongue like it has a thousand times before since you started dating. it's familiar, it tastes warm and like your homemade cooking you'll bring to him before his shows - a comfort he'll cherish no matter how much his acts crumble him.

you knew months into speaking with lyney that he worked for the fatui behind that whimsical act of a magician. you remember that tight feeling that choked your lungs for breath, you remember the vivid way the corners of your vision darkened and his words echoed in your head. he looked so pitiful, his brows knit together and a beautiful glitter to his lilac eyes when he's on the brink of tears from your lack of response.

growing up, you recall the stories your parents and elders had spat in distaste regarding the fatui - snezhnayan scum, good-for-nothings, troublemakers that cause nought but harm wherever they go. you truly believed that lyney was none of these, how could he be? he'd swooned you so lovingly after one of his shows on a starry night, having caught your eyes in his audience. he claims it was love at first sight, the cheesy phrase making you giggle whenever he'd reference it. he'd whispered sweet nothings in your ear the first night you'd shared a bed together, fingers dusting down your body in feather light touches like he considered you porcelain.

surely these were things that proved his innocence? that proved the truth in his words when he first mumbled 'i love you' against your soft lips midway through a kiss? you gave him his chance and lyney was determined to not let his affairs as a fatui member ruin what he had with you. things were perfect for the upcoming year, even if that smile he flashed to anyone who looked in his direction was so fake that you could almost grimace.

it is not lyney that anyone should have doubted the faithfulness of - the safety that his arms brought you. it is the fatui, the harbingers, the organisation that tears lives apart for their personal gains. it's the promises to protect their members' families and loved ones that fall on deaf ears yet feed their members' minds with relief and keeps that every faltering loyalty in check. they have them wrapped around gloved fingers that are ready to snap at any moment.

lyney kicks off his boots by the front door, twirling his hat as he hangs it next to your coat. in his younger years, he'd debated what the meaning of love was. he'd thought over the concept of a home - of four walls that were safe and permanent. every time something took a wrong turn in his life, he considered if he was capable of being loved, perhaps if he was even capable of loving too. if there was one thing he was certain from his time with you, it was that you'd proved him wrong.

his legs carry him tiredly up the staircase, his footsteps light as he steps over a particular floorboard he has memorised that creaks - just in case you'd truly gone to sleep without him tonight. the silence is deafening, he can't even hear the faint sounds of your breathing from your shared bedroom where the door is cracked open and the moonlight floods out like a liquid river. he glimpses red through the crack and his brow furrows in concern, picking up the pace of his steps.

the world you'd built with lyney crashes down the moment his hand - free of its glove - pushes the bedroom door further open and his eyes fall onto your body. you're limp on the floor, laid on the soft, fur rug you'd begged lyney to buy when you were furnishing your first home together. he still vividly remembers the beam you gave him when he caved and agreed. there's a pool of blood around you, drenching that cream fur and seeping into the floorboards beneath you. it's oxidising, darkening - how long had you been here like this?

lyney falls to his knees beside you, your blood soaking through his stockings and wetting his skin but he shrugs the uncomfortable feeling away when his hands push you onto your back, your head rolling to the side limply. your eyes are white, rolled back but there's a look of fear written across your face and lyney's eyes begin to sting with the idea that you'd been scared in your final moments; no, he refuses to accept that you're dead. you're simply injured, passed out - he'll get you to a doctor and he'll never let you out of his sight again.

but the waterfall of red that decorates your neck and stains his white shirt he knew you'd be wearing tell him otherwise. his hands clasp at your cheeks, cupping the cold skin as his thumbs desperately rub at you in hopes that you'll come to, smiling and reassuring him. he blinks the tears in his eyes away but all they do is fall down his pale cheeks in precious streams of emotion when he doesn't wake up. he doesn't open his eyes again to see sunlight streaming through the light fabric of your bedroom curtains. he doesn't hear his favourite laugh in the whole of teyvat when you notice he's woke up. the silent atmosphere is still very much present, tense and ready to be sliced with a knife.

the only sounds are lyney's jagged breaths, desperate as he starts to hyperventilate to get air into his lungs. he presses his ear to your chest, not caring if his blond locks fall into your blood as he frantically searches for your pulse, a sign of life. there is not even a shallow breath that falls from your chapped lips.

you had taught lyney many things in the time you'd devoted at his side, things that the fatui could never teach him. you taught him how it feels when you love someone but as he releases a pained cry into the night, you'd also taught him the anguish that comes from the decision of trusting the fatui the way he had before.

© https-heizou 2023.