#my scrawny little bastard man

[themotherofhorses]

simon riley x fem!reader

Imagine holding Simon when he cries. 

Simon Riley is an incredibly strong man, an absolute force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. Since joining the SAS in 2001, he has created a name for himself. A military legend—seemingly more ghost-like than flesh and blood. But that is the farthest from the truth, isn’t it? Cause, at the end of the day, he is still human. You’re his girl, the love of his life. His true love—his only love.

You are a source of comfort he somehow found in this shitty, cold world. The home he never had the privilege of experiencing; your arms have provided him with everything he was denied during boyhood.  

So imagine your Simon arriving home one evening—dead silent—merely shuffling his way to where you’re seated comfortably on the living room couch. His duffle bag drops near his leather recliner before the balaclava is tossed to the side. On his face is a certain heaviness, a sadness twisted in his handsome features; his blue eyes are not as bright as they usually are.

You swallow. Did something happen during the mission? 

“What is wrong, baby?” You coo, stretching your arms out wide to welcome him in. 

Without another thought, Simon tucks himself into your embrace, with his head resting gently on your chest. Against your breast, he can hear your heartbeat thundering away in your chest, moving in a rhythm that matches his. He reckons he is the luckiest bastard in the world, to find a soulmate who compliments him in every aspect of life. 

He lets out a small sigh, squeezing his eyes shut, feeling his throat closing up as tears begin to well up. His bottom lip trembles before he bites down on it. 

“Simon,” you murmur, pressing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “What happened, my love?” 

Another tear, followed by three more. A tiny, shaky exhale. Simon remains utterly still for a moment, not saying anything, until…“It’s my father’s birthday today.” His voice is quiet, breathless, unbelievably thick with sheer sadness. 

Your face falls at that. “Oh, Simon.” A sad smile pulls at your lips while you hug him closer, peppering more kisses up and down his hairline, pausing to brush back soft, blonde strands. You say nothing more as he continues to weep in your arms, entire body racking with choked-up sobs and uneven breathing. 

“I loved him,” Simon rasps out, pulling his face up from your neck. Both his cheeks and nose are a cherry-red, with baby-blue eyes bloodshot and puffy, lined with fresh tears. For a moment, he wasn’t the Simon Riley you fell in love with, but the Simon Riley who was five-years-old—all scrawny, little legged and freshly bruised, hiding behind the bookcase in his parents’ bedroom. 

“Loved him so bloody much.” 

You don’t know what to say. What can you even say? Nothing can heal those wounds, cut so deep in his heart and soul that any slight movement reopens them. “I know you did.” You kiss his nose, minding the mess of tears and snot. 

His fists slowly tighten, knuckles whitening as all the memories of his father begin to flood through him; they all carry an agonizing sensation, the kind that is too fuckin' painful to discuss aloud, yet too damn gut-wrenching to keep bottled up inside.

“Do ya…” he hiccups, clearing his throat. “Do ya think…in another life…?” 

In another life. You think for a moment, carding your fingers softly through his hair. “Maybe, my love…” 

Simon nods. “Maybe,” he croaks out, keeping his arms tight around you. There, on the couch, you continue to hold him, letting his torrent of tears soak your shirt; time and time again, your fingers run through his hair in some silent attempt to ease the little boy wailing inside. 

“It’s okay, baby.”

You kiss his temple.

“You’re alright. Let it out, baby.” 

He’ll be alright tomorrow. You know it. In the morning, he’ll be barefoot and content in the kitchen, baking his mother’s special recipe of blueberry and pineapple pancakes—a cup of milk, one egg, blueberries, pineapple, and, of course, the batter—all while waiting for your arms to circle around his chest. 

But for right now, he is five years old, finally being embraced in arms so warm and loving and protective—so unbelievably perfect. The feeling incites more tears.

"Thank you, baby," he mumbles, gently kissing your collarbone; it's a kiss so rich with love, appreciation, and adoration that it stirs up butterflies in your tummy. "For everything."

For everything. Oh, you silly boy. "Simon." You smile down at him, gently caressing his cheek. "For you, my love? I'd do anything."

note: a little drabble for my "let simon riley cry 2024" campaign. thanks!

[happy74827]

Shadow Knight

[Joe Goldberg x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: One thing to know about Joe, is that he’d do anything to protect you. Regardless if you want him to or not.

WC: 2776

Category: Hurt/Comfort [TW — Joe]

Finally wrote a Joe Goldberg fic. My friend begged me to write him so I did (you’re welcome @summerrivera777777). I really don’t know what else to say… so enjoy!

『••✎••』

You were his. That’s all Joe cared about in his head. He thought of you and only you.

He remembered that night after your first kiss. You had told him that you loved him. It was a warm summer night. It had been dark, but the stars were shining so brightly that the moonlight shone through the window. You had made him feel things.

It was such a new feeling.

It was scary but exhilarating. This wasn’t like Beck or Love. It was different. It was amazing.

He wanted you, and he was willing to do anything to keep you.

When he found out about your annoying pest of a neighbor, he had been a bit put off at first. How dare he come in and try to woo you from under his nose? He couldn't help but laugh at the thought of the short, small, wiry guy being able to compete with his stature. Joe clearly outranked him, and he wanted to make it known.

It started off as a little harmless fun, a way for him to see what this guy was capable of. A way for him to test your limits and then go even further.

Joe knew how to push the right buttons. And it wasn't long before he had him right where he wanted him.

Now, he would be able to protect you. You didn't have to worry about that scrawny little bastard hurting you anymore. Joe would take care of you. He was so good to you and would continue to be so. He was yours.

He would keep you safe from all the dangers that lurked in the world. He had found himself wanting to help you in that way, protect you, provide for you. He could feel it. He wanted you to depend on him, and he was eager for that moment to come.

For now, all he wanted to do was watch. He wanted to watch this short little guy attempt to steal his girl from under his nose. He wanted to watch the pathetic creature get on his knees and beg. He wanted to see you tell him to fuck off and then run back into his arms. He wanted to watch you beg him to take care of you.

“Oh, Joe,” you had whimpered against his lips. He held you closer, keeping you safe and close. Your arms snaked around his neck, holding him tight to you. Your legs wrapped around his hips, allowing him to hold you up.

He felt so big and strong against you. He always felt so strong and reliable. He always made you feel so safe and wanted. He always made you feel so loved. He always made you feel like you were the only woman on earth, and you always wanted to feel this way forever.

His mouth left yours and moved to your neck, kissing and sucking there. His hands groped your body, slipping under the thin material of your t-shirt. He continued to kiss and bite down your neck, feeling your pulse against his lips.

He was in heaven. He was living a dream. This beautiful, smart, funny woman was all his, and he could feel himself becoming overwhelmed with emotions.

He pulled back to look at your face. You had a serene expression, one that Joe often saw when he made you come undone. You were perfect. You were everything to him.

His hands cupped your cheeks, and he kissed you softly. You kissed him back, opening your mouth for him to taste you.

Joe loved this. He loved every minute of it. It wasn't just about sex for him anymore. It was about sharing his love with you. He had given you the most sacred part of himself, and you had given it right back.

He was so happy he thought he could burst.

Your front door suddenly flew open, and Joe dropped you on your couch as quickly as possible, making sure to fix his shirt in the process. He moved in front of you protectively and glared at the small figure standing in the doorway.

He glared down at the man. His lips were pressed in a tight line, and his jaw was clenched. He was so pissed, but he wasn't going to allow that bastard to see it.

“Jared? You do realize I didn’t give you those keys just to open my door whenever you want, right?” Your voice was stern and angry, causing Joe to smirk. He was so proud of you, of your ability to stand up for yourself. You tell him off.

Joe watched as Jared ran his fingers through his messy hair, looking nervous and flustered. He looked at you and then at Joe before glancing back at you. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth, but he closed it quickly.

He tried again but only ended up stuttering and not saying a word. His eyes were darting back and forth between Joe and you as if he were looking for a way to escape.

Joe watched as he looked like a fish out of water. He had never seen this guy speechless before, so he was enjoying every minute of this.

You seemed to have finally had enough, as well. You threw your hands up and sighed loudly, rolling your eyes at Jared's awkwardness.

"Is there something you need, Jared? I’m really busy at the moment." Your words were sharp and short. Again, Joe smiled at how badass you were. It was hard to believe that a month ago, you were this nervous little thing. You couldn’t even say the word 'no,' and now, here you were, telling off this guy twice your size. You were just a ball of fire.

“I, uhm... I just... I wanted to see if you were okay after what happened earlier today. I was worried, I guess." Jared said. His voice was quiet and sounded so small. He sounded nervous and fidgety. Joe almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

He might’ve even felt sorry if he didn’t catch what he had said.

What happened… earlier?

Joe gave you a look, hoping you'd fill him in. You were his girlfriend, the person he cared about more than anything in this world, but you were keeping secrets? What was happening here?

You seemed to understand what he wanted and looked over at Jared before glancing back at him. Joe tilted his head slightly, silently asking you to tell him what was happening. You took a deep breath and looked at him with your big brown eyes before turning to look at Jared.

"I'm okay, Jared, thank you. But I am really busy, and I have a lot on my plate at the moment, so I can't really talk. Maybe later?" You smiled sweetly at him. "I'll give you a call?"

He seemed to relax a little at your words, smiling at you. He took a deep breath and nodded his head. He turned to face Joe for a moment, just staring at him for a beat before turning back to you.

He sighed and seemed to deflate like a balloon losing air. "Okay, yeah. Just let me know if you need anything. I'll call you later, then. Have a good night." Jared gave you a quick wave before walking out the door and closing it behind him.

As soon as he was gone, Joe turned to look at you, waiting for an explanation.

"What happened today?" He couldn’t help but think of the worst, worrying that maybe you had met someone else. That Jared had hurt you or something.

Your eyes went wide, and you shook your head vigorously as if reading his mind. "Oh, no. Nothing like that. It was... uhm..." You took a deep breath, seeming to collect your thoughts. "It was just me."

You let out a nervous laugh, but Joe was still staring at you intently. "Okay, well, it was this thing." You hesitated for a moment, staring at him, and he nodded his head, encouraging you to continue. You took a deep breath and started explaining.

You went on to tell him about the charity event that you had attended. You told him how there was a guy that had been hitting on you. He sounded like a total creep to Joe, and he couldn't understand how you would let some rando put his hands on you. You had a boyfriend, for Christ's sake! How dare he?! Joe didn't know how he would've survived if he had seen you with another man. He would've beaten the shit out of that guy, but he would've also beat himself up for not being able to protect you from that.

He was your boyfriend. He was supposed to keep you safe and protected. It was his duty. He was going to protect you. He wanted to protect you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Joe asked, keeping his voice low and even. He was trying to be calm about this, but he was quite the opposite. He wanted to go and hunt this guy down and find out exactly what happened, where he touched you, what he said. He needed to know where this guy was, and he needed to make sure he wouldn’t be a problem for you. He would handle it. No one would touch his girl. He would keep you safe. He would kill for you if that's what it took. He would do anything for you.

You sighed and dropped your gaze from his, staring at your feet. You had the nerve to be embarrassed about it. That made him even angrier.

"I don't want to make a big deal out of it. It was just a dumb charity thing; I'm sure it's happened to lots of people." You didn't even sound convincing to yourself, and the sight of your hunched-over figure was enough for Joe to lose it.

He took a deep breath and sighed loudly, feeling his anger building in the pit of his stomach. He was on the verge of exploding, but you were clueless about what he was feeling. You were trying to pretend like it was no big deal, and you didn't even realize what you had just done.

You were his. His to protect. He wasn't going to allow this guy to take that from him. He wasn't going to allow this guy to touch what's his.

Joe stood up from the couch and started pacing around the living room. You watched him curiously for a moment before following his movement. You stood up from the couch, ready to stop him from walking around, but he turned around suddenly, looking at you. He glared down at you for a moment, and you stopped in your tracks.

“Did you get his name?” His voice was dark and dangerous, like a predator that was ready to kill.

You hesitated for a moment as if you were debating with yourself. He watched your face as you thought, waiting for your answer. Your brows furrowed as you thought, and your bottom lip was between your teeth. You were worried about something. He wasn't sure what it was, but he knew that he wasn't going to like it.

You sighed and glanced up at him with those big doe eyes before glancing back down to your feet. You seemed to be looking at his shoes, counting the laces as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.

"I did." You murmured.

"What is it?" His voice was a low growl.

"Joe, this doesn't-"

"What is his name?" Joe snapped, glaring down at you. He didn't mean to yell, but it was taking all his energy to hold back. You flinched at his tone, and he wanted to punch himself.

"I don't want you to get involved in this. I'm okay. I promise." You said. "I just want to forget it ever happened. Please, just let me take care of it." You sounded so defeated, and Joe wanted to reach out and hold you, but he knew he needed to hold himself back. He needed to keep himself from you for a moment. He wanted to get out of his own head before he did anything stupid.

"How?" His voice was cold, colder than he meant to let on.

"What?" You looked up at him, and he felt like he was looking into your soul. It was so beautiful and pure. You were so innocent and good, so sweet and soft. He never wanted to do anything to hurt you. He would protect you and keep you safe from all the bad things in the world. This guy included.

“How can you forget it happened?" He said, glaring at you. "What did he do? What did he say to you?" His voice was getting louder by the second, and you took a step back, flinching again. His stomach twisted as he saw your reaction, and he tried to calm himself. He took a deep breath and tried to speak calmly. "Did he touch you?"

You looked away from his face and sighed. Your gaze landed on your feet, and you seemed to be counting the laces in his shoes again.

"It doesn't matter what happened," you said.

"What did happen?" Joe asked again.

"Joe," you said, looking up at him with those pretty brown eyes, "It really doesn't matter, okay? I don't want to talk about it."

"I need to know."

You rolled your eyes at that and threw your hands up. "Why? So you can go after him and make it worse?"

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He knew he had to tell you. " You’re scared. I don’t want you to be scared anymore. I want to help you."

He wanted to take away that fear. He wanted to take care of you. He wanted to be the only person you needed to protect yourself. He didn't want you to be afraid. He wanted you to be able to feel safe and loved.

"You can't protect me all the time. Sometimes I have to be able to stand up for myself and do this stuff, Joe." You sounded defeated, but Joe shook his head.

"You shouldn't have to."

"It was just one guy." You shrugged your shoulders. "I can handle it."

"You shouldn't have to! Just… Please, just let me help you." His voice was pleading. He knew he sounded desperate and pathetic, but he needed to be the one to protect you.

You didn't say anything to that and looked back down to the floor. Joe's eyes followed you, staring at you for a moment. He noticed that you weren't moving anymore.

“Jim,” You murmured quietly, your head still bowed. It was so quiet that Joe wasn't sure he heard you right.

"What?"

"His name is Jim," you said, looking up at him with your big brown eyes. "Jim Haynes. I saw him in the building this morning when I was walking to my car. He lives in 1515."

He heard you. You told him.

You gave him what he wanted, and he couldn't help but smile. It was a wide smile, one that you saw often on Joe.

He grabbed your waist and pulled you in close to him. You squeaked as you were being moved across the room, and you held your breath as you realized where he was heading. You knew what was going to happen, and you couldn't help the rush of excitement and heat that filled you.

You watched his face as you moved, seeing his big brown eyes glued to yours. Your mouth went dry as you stared back into his dark eyes. You felt your pulse race as his gaze felt like a touch.

“Thank you for trusting me.” He whispered, his breath tickling your face. He was truly so happy to finally be given this information. It felt good knowing that he could help you. He could keep you safe from harm.

He pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was slow and soft. You could feel the emotions on his lips, feel how much he cared. You could feel how much he wanted you. He pressed his body against yours, wanting to feel you pressed against him.

Tonight, he would protect you. Tomorrow, he will make sure you stay protected. But right now, he was going to take care of you. He was going to be there for you.

He was going to take care of you, and then, he was going to take care of Jim Haynes.

[the-fiction-witch]

I'm Gonna Kill Him

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Angsty Smut!

Requested:

Hello! Before I start, I just wanted to say that I love your book so much! Could you create an imagine or a smut scene from your Jack Dawkins' book where they've broken up, and Y/N visits Jack's place that led them to having a angry/makeup sex? Then, a week later, Y/N discovers she's pregnant with his baby, which ultimately brings them back together.

Warnings : angst / angry sex, cheating, slapping, spanking, choking, biting,

I didn't want to go back, I felt like I was never going to hear the end of it. 

But I want my damn book back. 

So I got myself dressed into my black and emerald dress doing my utmost to look beautiful and glamorous, If I have to see him then god damn it he's gonna have to look at me like I'm a princess. 

I finished up and headed out into town making sure I was seen, making a point to be seen by men until I reached the hospital. I headed in proudly seeing the usual bustle of nurses and patience.

"Ohh Miss Y/n, Dr Dawkins is in his room" Hetty smiled as she saw me

"Thank you Hetty" I smiled 

"He has said he didn't want you in there miss y/n" 

"I'm well aware of what he wants." I rolled my eyes as I headed up to his room not even bothering to knock simply opened the door and saw Jack lying on his bed fiddling with a coin between his fingers, he looked up and looked annoyed 

"Ohh. What do you want?"

"You know exactly what I want. Where is it?"

"I don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about" 

"Where is my book, Jack?"

"How should I know?"

"I left it here, I missed it when I was packing, I know you have it, where is it?"

"Why would I want your mouldy old book? I don't have it." He snapped getting up from his bed

"I know you do, you're just keeping it to be hurtful"

"Hurtful! I'm not the one who went bloody psycho !"

"PSYCHO!"

"You heard me!"

"I wasn't the one who violated the sanctity of a union"

"Ohh here we go again! I didn't violate anything!"

"You liar!"

"At least she didn't kick me out of bloody bed in the morning!"

"So you admit it!"

"Yeah fine, I admit it! does that soothe your ego princess!" 

Immediately I slapped him across the face and he didn't even flinch 

".... I will never hit a woman. But your making it really fucking tempting!"

"Ohh go on then you scrawny little shit I'd like to see you try!"

"I was a naval officer you think I can't take a little lady in a fight!"

"Officer! Like hell, you only were because you sat on the right laps!" 

"How dare you!" He yelled, "You repugnant little witch!"

I went to slap him again but he grabbed my wrist before I could throwing my arm back

"Ohh you gonna hit me with your parasol too?" He glared 

"You are an unbelievable bastard! I can't believe I-"

"You what?"

"I can't believe I even considered us for a moment!"

"Yeah well same here! I dodged a bloody bullet. I'd have spent my life stuck married to you!"

"Ohh I'd have made your life a living hell every second of it just for the thrill of it!"

"You would wouldn't you! you'd have turned me into some little pitiful house husband just to spide me wouldn't you!" 

"I would I'd have torn you down so low you'd be looking up to kiss my feet!" I yelled "And I'd have taken pleasure in it you evil man! treacherous! fuckwit!"

He grabbed my waist and pulled me into a kiss, I was so very angry with him, I wanted to slap him off me but I didn't want to kiss him back I wanted to win! I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of my submission, So I kissed him with force, trying to take control, but he would not allow that so easily forcing his tongue down my throat but I argued with him even at this moment battling with him in a war of our tongues, I grabbed his shirt desperate for control but he grabbed my waist and unlaced my dress, making quick work of it given his quick nibble surgeons fingers, I didn't want him to win so I began unbuttoning his trousers, once undone he grabbed my waist and forced me down onto the bed But I grabbed his hips and forced him down flat on the mattress 

"Don't you even think about it!" He groaned flipping us over so I was under him 

"I refuse to be under such a bastard." I gritted my teeth 

"You can ride me if you wish." 

"Not on your life." 

"Open your legs, Or I'll bend you over it's up to you." 

"Maybe I'll bend you over."

"You would you little succubus!"

"Well, how else was I meant to keep up with you!"

"You always did you were a little Fucking whore for me" He growled forcing off my dress "God damn it you are an evil, conniving, little witch but god had to give you that fucking body didn't he!" 

"He didn't have to make you such an unreasonable, arrogant, illiterate, Imbosile but here we are" I smirked clawing as his shirt 

"And we both know what he gave me to make up for that" He growled pulling his suspenders off his shoulders and forcing off his shirt as he pulled me into another aggressive kiss I clawed down his chest almost drawing blood as he forced me on my knees, 

"Don't even think about it, Jack!" I glared but he forced my hips up to his and dug his nails into my ass

"I'll do much more than think about it" he smirked pushing off his trousers and forcing himself inside me, 

as much as I hated it, my anger bubbling in my bones, but... I moaned as I had missed the feeling of him inside me, he didn't waste a single moment starting his fast and angsty thrusts, pounding into me like his life utterly depended on it, I moved my hips back trying to take control but I think it was a little late for that even so I made sure to force him into the pace I wanted which only frustrated him more, the bed creaking and squeaking, his violent grunts and groans much the sounds one would make in a fight tumbling from behind me until he began to slow his breaths getting looser 

"That all you got little boy?" I smirked moving myself 

"I. Am. Not. A boy!" He groaned grabbing my hair and pulling on it to bring my ear to his lips "Don't make have to teach my succubus a lesson!" He growled bitting on my shoulder 

"Ughhhhhh! Uhhhhh!" I squealed given his pace didn't stop his angle hitting where I needed "You whore so bad you missed me this much?!" 

"Missed you? You know what I did I missed your pussy princess I've got it just how I love it. But we wanna talk about who missed who, who came here showing off like she was the fucking queen all for her little fucking book back"

"and you caved this quickly? I thought you had more resilience than that Jack?"

"Not around you I don't" He smirked moving a hand to rub my clit 

"Uhhhhhh!" I gasped and he forced me back down onto the pillow "See I knew you missed me" I gasped 

"You can't blame me for missing a pussy I've fucked for the last two years. took a long time to get you this good." 

"Like I didn't train you" I smirked "Jack please-"

"Yeah? you need me that bad you had to come see me?" he cooed "Cause you know I'm the only person in port victoria who can make you cum"

"I can do it myself then I don't have to deal with your bloody ego!"

"fine, then I'll stop-" He smirked going to sloe

"Don't you fucking dare Jack!" I groaned forcing him to move quicker until I almost ripped his sheets as I screamed reaching my high 

"fuck you sound good like that" He groaned "I could almost put up with your shit for that noise" 

"I bet you could" I smirked forcing us over so he was down on his back 

"I knew you couldn't resist" He smirked

"You dare I will slap that smirking face of yours" I warn moving to ride him as aggressively as possible 

"UGhhhhhhhh fucking- you evil little thing"

"shut up Jack," I warn bouncing and moving mercilessly on him 

"Come on then princess make me cum" He smirked 

"I said shut up!" I yelled wrapping my hands around his neck to slightly choke him 

"UUughhhhhhhhhh!" he groans "Fuck-" He gasped his hips bucking like crazy as he buried himself inside of me so I pulled my hands back and caught my breath "Fine. I admit it. I've missed you" he gasped 

"Fine. I missed you too." I sighed climbing off him and going to get my dress but he grabbed me and pulled me back into the bed so he could cuddle me my head on his chest 

"Now you have... all of that out of your system, and have had time to pout. am I allowed to actually explain myself?"

"What's there to explain, you fucked her Jack. Plain and simple, what do you have to explain?"

"Will you listen anyway?" He asked stroking my hair 

"Fine. If you want to waste your breath."

"She has a problem"

"ohh I bet she did-"

"No. Listen. shut your mouth a while and listen to what I'm saying." he snapped "She has a problem, a medical problem, inoperable, incurable, she'll be dead within the month if not sooner" he explained quietly as he gently pets my hair "She was an innocent"

"was she? I bet she told you that." I said back almost in a whisper 

"Y/n. I swear to you, she told me, in confidence that she was an innocent, given the state of her condition she accepted her death and had began to make arrangements for the future,"

"And where do you come into all this?"

"I'm her doctor. I've been treating her. She asked me to... she said of all the things in this world that she will miss, she wanted to feel the touch of a man just once in her life." He whispered "So I did, Yes I fucked her. Should I have done it... I don't know. But do I regret it? No. would I do it again, I frankly don't know. I'm not sure I would If I'd have known I'd lose you because of it."

"Why you? She could have asked many, barely a man in Port Victoria that wouldn't want to fuck a virgin."

"Because I'm her doctor, and I was engaged. She trusted me. She didn't want to be used like some old whore she wanted to feel loved, and she knew she could trust me because I'm her doctor, and she wouldn't leave a man utterly in love with her behind, because she knew I loved you."

"Is that true?"

"Why would I lie to you now? you've already left me."

"why didn't you just tell me that?"

"Because I fucked another woman plain and simple... you didn't want to listen and it would only dig myself deeper if I did" 

"...it wasn't what you did Jack."

"No?"

"No. I just wish you'd have told me first."

"What?" he asked sitting up  a little 

"If you had come to me, and told me about her, about her illness, about what she had asked of you. I'd have allowed it." 

"No, you wouldn't-"

"I would. Because it is a kind thing to do Jack, if I was dying I'd have asked you too. I wish you had come and asked me, I'd have allowed it, but instead, I had to find out afterwards, from Sneed of all people not even you, that you broke my trust."

"I know, I was just worried you'd be angry if I told you." 

"I was more angry you didn't"

"That's fair." He nods "I fucked up, and I know that. it doesn't matter now... She's dead anyway."

"What?"

"Passed away this morning." 

"I'm sorry Jack-"

"It's fine. she doesn't have to suffer anymore. I'm happy, I could make her final days somewhat enjoyable"

"You're kind, and sweet when you want to be" 

"I am sorry. Believe me."

"Well... it doesn't matter now does it."

"I guess not." he sighed "She didn't even call me Jack."

"No?"

"No. Just Doctor Dawkins" He chuckled 

"Did you use her name?"

"I did. I wanted to make her feel loved... But I thought of you." He whispered kissing my forehead 

"You did?"

"I did. I imagined her body as yours, her voice as yours," He said "You know you're the only girl who can satisfy me. so I thought of you"

"... I don't know if that makes me feel better or worse." I sighed 

"Y/n..."

"Yes, Jack?"

"Is there, any possibility, no matter how slim? That, you and I may... rekindle even a portion of what we had before?" 

"I doubt it, Jack." I said moving to see his face "I will always love you, but I can't forgive you." 

"Could I do anything for you to forgive me?"

"No. Once trust is broken... like a delicate vase chattered, the pieces may be placed back, but you will always see the crack." I explained "Who's to say... another girl, in a similar state, asks the same of you, I cannot trust that you wouldn't do it again"

"... I understand." he nods "And I am sorry. I will always love you, you know that. No matter what you do, or say, my heart will always be yours." 

"And Mine yours." I smiled giving him a sweet kiss "I should go." I said climbing out the bed and starting to get dressed again 

"I don't know what I'm gonna do without you," he said as he watched me dress 

"I'm sure you shall find ladies to spend of the evening." 

"It's not the evening that worries me, it's the mornings, and the middays, and the afternoons, and the middle of the nights, a fuck is a fuck, but when you cum it's over, with you... every moment and all of it felt like heaven" 

"Well, such are the consequences of your actions." I sighed "Now? my book."

He rolled his eyes sitting up slipping his trousers on and pulling my book from under his mattress 

"Thank you" I snapped taking it back "A reason you kept it?"

"...reminds me of you." 

"You always complained you couldn't read it. my stupid spider scrawl handwriting"

"I can't. but I know what it says... when I read it, chasing the words around the page I- I heard your voice reading it to me" 

for a moment I felt teary "Keep it." I said handing back the book 

"No." he said pushing it back into my hand and kissing my lips in a soft and gentle way "Please don't labour me with memories of you." 

"Alright," I nodded "Goodbye Jack."

"Goodbye Y/n" He nods fighting back his tears 

I took my book and I left heading home. 

I sat in bed fresh as the morning sun, unable to bring myself to rise just yet, I turned and saw my book on my bedside table and I thought of him, for a moment all our nights of enthroned passion returned, I thought of our last night together over a month ago now of angst and anger, I thought of how he held me that night, how he kissed me still with all the love that he had always done so, 

I thought of the most wonderful moments, Of how his head would settle in my lap after the day's work, I would twist and knot my fingers in his golden locks, he would press a kiss to my thighs, and I would read to him, all that I had written, and he would offer me suggestions of words that suited better, listing synonyms for me to replace the overused words. 

I forced such thoughts away and sat myself up checking the day on my calendar I knew what to expect today pulling back my covers but- they were as white as sheep. This couldn't be? I was late already. I tried not to allow panic to set in given my typical irregularities.

"Miss I have brought your you porridge with honey" The maid smiled as she came through with my breakfast but the simple smell was enough

"Out." I demanded throwing my head off my bed to upturn my stomach into the bucket I had left there, and she scurried away. "No... No this can't be possible." I forced myself up and over to my mirror pulling back my nightie to expose my stomach it didn't look any different or maybe it did... I don't know. and the memory of that night flooded into my mind, of him finishing burying himself inside me as I rode him, "No... no no no.... I'm gonna kill him..." I whined grabbing my dress and hurrying as fast as my feet could to the hospital rushing up to his room without a word. But I froze up as I saw his door- 

to think of all that had happened, How I stormed out, I'd returned once and clearly that was an awful mistake I- didn't exactly feel thrilled I was returning yet again. but I knocked and soon enough he pulled it open.

"Oh, its you. What can I do for you?" He asked fixing his waistcoat

"I need you." I told him rushing into his room

"Uhh okay" He nods shutting his door with a wicked smile "So... Shall I repeat our last night my darling?"

"No." I snapped "I need your... medical, Intervention"

"my medical intervention?"

"Yes."

"You realize patients have to wait in the waiting room you know, you can't just come up to a doctor's bedroom to get seen faster, even if it is you."

"Jack. Please." I told him fear in my voice tears in my eyes and he melted his own panic set in 

"What is it?"

"I am... so very scared Jack."

"Alright just sit down, tell me what's wrong," he said helping me to sit on his bed 

"My monthly time is late."

"Alright, well such thing can happen you have been stressed these few weeks" He explained nervously pacing around his room as I spoke 

"Over a month."

"Perhaps simple change in your cycle" 

"I have been vomiting." 

"A bad fish may have simply turned your stomach," he said his fear growing as he too was coming to the conclusion I had already suspected but he didn't want it to be true, he didn't want to believe me, 

"My waist grows... Inch by inch. Almost weekly. gaining speed steadily"

"Bloating. could simply-"

"Jack. I might be pregnant." 

"You might." He nods "It could be a million other-"

"I. Might be pregnant." I told him getting to my feet "By the grace of god I need to know." 

"I'd need to track your cycle completely, and I don't have that information."

"You had it as up to date as I did until I left and I haven't bleed since so-"

"Well, how do I know what you've been doing?" He glared So I slapped him and he adjusted his jaw a little "How am I to know who the father is?"

"You." I said and the colour drained from his skin "I have never been touched by another man as long as I have lived. If I am pregnant... It is yours. or it is gods." 

"It can't be mine. I always-"

"Not always, Our last evening together..."

"Fuck-" He gasped "I have thought of that night a hundred times, your right. I didn't"

"So, Doctor. What do we do?" 

"I need a rabbit." He sighed 

I had to return to the hospital, to Jack twice daily once in the morning, once at night and each day, for three days, and I had to drink a whole jug of water and well... expel it. and this was the final time. 

"There, Now will we know?" I asked 

"Yes. we should do" He said as he took it in a firm needle "shhh shhh there's a good girl" He cooed to the little rabbit on the table, I had since after all these days named her hoppy, and he injected her "Five minutes" he said 

"I do not understand how these things work" I sighed 

"You want me to explain?"

"Not really."

"Fair enough." He said turning to his tools a moment and grabbing a large knife 

"Jack- What are you doing!"

"Finding out" He began moving quickly to-

"No!" I yelped stopping him "Jack! that's barbaric." 

"I have been injecting her with your urine for the last three days, if her ovaries are enlarged and she has gone into heat then you are pregnant, if she hasn't you are not."

"Is there no way to check without killing her?"

"No. now do you want to know or not?" 

"There must be a simpler way."

"Yes, there is. we wait nine months and see if a baby pops out of you."

"You know we can't do that. but that doesn't mean I allow you to butcher an innocent animal"

We both stopped a moment as hoppy moved a little and began humping the blanket she sat on aggressively 

"I'd say she's in heat"

"I need to check. for sure."

"Fine" I sighed 

"I'll be quick, painless" he said making quick work of killing the poor thing before then cutting it open to examine her 

"And?"

".... her ovaries are Enlarged. Extremely so. She is in heat." He said dropping his knife on the table 

"So..."

"You're pregnant." 

"... I see." I nodded my hands settling on my stomach in absolute fear but Jack took my face in his hand and sweetly kissed me sending blood across my skin, till he pulled back stroking his nose on mine as he always used to

"This is the happiest news you could have given me."

"Happy? Jack, I am pregnant out of wedlock. My father will banish me, society will crucify me, and our child will suffer as a bastard all of its life." I explained, "What am I to do?" 

"I know exactly what you are to do. Take back my ring."

"What?"

"Take back my ring, return our lives to how they were, before my mistake, marry me by the end of the week and we, can raise our child together. As husband and wife," 

"We cannot-"

"Why not?"

"I already told my father of our cancelled engagement"

"Then tell him it was nothing but a lovers tiff. and that all is as it was." He said "I still love you, I still want us to be together, I still want to marry you. and I want us to raise our child together. Please. You cannot expect me to let you go again, I made that mistake once letting you walk away from me, I am not foolish enough to allow it again, especially not while my child grows in your womb" 

"You can not simply expect me to trust you again Jack."

"I'm not. I'm asking you to let me earn it back." He said, "Please Y/n." 

"Yes" I gasped

"You-"

"Yes Jack."

"Y/n... my darling" He cooed pulling me back to his lips. 

[fakeboy-breeder]

sir but like i’m a knight and you’re my squire. you want so desperately to be a knight, but you’re a girl. or at least your cunt says so, you’re blatantly convinced your a man in a woman’s body. so, you disguise yourself, chop your hair, and bind your chest down with fabric wraps. you’re able to pull off scrawny young boy well enough, despite being years older than any other squire, and you’re elated. you’ve found a way in. you’ll just keep your slowly growing tits and pretty pink cunt hidden until you’re the strongest knight in the realm so no one can stop you anymore.

but then you’re assigned to me. i’m known for being brutal and going through squires like mugs of ale, breaking boys quickly so they understand they’ll never be a true knight unless they work for it. i’m also known for fucking my way through every town we enter, leaving every girls pussy gaped, needy, and flooded with my cum. even the kings best mathematician couldn’t begin to predict how many bastards of mine are running around the country and i take pride in it. cunts are to be bred, are they not?

after a few weeks of backbreaking labor and constant jabs at your feminine face, your clear weakness, your insufficiency with a sword, i’d start to take a liking to you, though you’d never guess. my treatment stays exactly the same, but i privately think i’d like to keep you around for a while, as you’re pleasant company. one day, your chest wrap breaks. you’re in the middle of doffing my horses saddle and you feel a rip, the cloth falls, and your tits begin pressing at your tunic. you try desperately to angle yourself to hide them, but in the couple months you’ve been binding them down they’ve grown enough that it’s impossible. and i’ve seen.

in that moment i push you against the outer wall of the castle. my quickly hardening dick rubs against your plush ass while i force your face into the stone. i’d ask you how you possibly thought you’d become a knight with udders like those. i’d strip you if your ill-fitting squires’ clothes and inspect your pretty cunt. i’d almost start laughing. the pretty little squire i liked is truly a delusional whore.

i’d fuck you then and there. force my fat cock into your virgin cunt out in the open, where any knight, servant, squire, or nobleman could stumble across your defloration. i’d keep my armor on, let the metal bite into your ass and thighs. when i finished, i’d be to force it deep in your cunt, flood your womb so you can make me another bastard

if you were good and learned your lesson, maybe i’d convince my king to allow me to take you as a bride. if you didn’t, if you tried to tell me some nonsense about being a man, i’d ride you down to the nearest whorehouse myself and sell you for barely enough to fund my next night at the tavern

[theonceandfuturequeenoftarts]

Harry really should’ve expected something like this, but he’s still bewildered.

(And more than a little pissed off.)

Of course some bastard managed to enter him as the fifth champion in the Triwizard Tournament.

...Well. There are four schools participating, but “Quadwizard Tournament” doesn’t have the same ring to it.

There are several people shouting at each other and him in a variety of languages, and while he has no idea what they’re saying, he gets the gist of it: how did this scrawny fifth year have the audacity to trick the Goblet of Fire and enter the prestigious (and deadly) tournament?

He wishes they’d ask him so he could clear up that he hadn’t done that, and he doesn’t want to take part in this tournament, and they’re all being world-class prats right now.

Well. Except for Cedric Diggory. He just looks a bit confused, bless him.

Dumbledore asks him if he put his name in, and he says no, and maybe he overestimated these people because pretty much all of them scoff and don’t believe him. 

The Koldovstoretz champion’s voice cuts through the hullabaloo and says, in barely accented English, “If he is required to participate, why not let him forfeit?”

Thank Merlin, there’s a voice of reason in all this idiocy.

All eyes turn to the tall young man – Tom Riddle, Harry’d heard the name said by his love-struck peers enough times since the other schools arrived to remember it – who looks politely disinterested in the chaos around him.

“That sounds good to me,” Harry says, hoping that’ll be the end of it.

But of course it isn’t. 

The Durmstrang headmaster sneers something that sounds awfully rude at Riddle in a language Harry doesn’t recognise, which makes the boy tense and darkens his eyes. And then the shouting starts up again.

For all that the gathered headmistresses and headmasters and students were arguing against his participation before, they’re now demanding that he take responsibility and not besmirch the tournament’s prestigious history nor the Goblet’s choice by bowing out. Harry is once again of the opinion that there is no continuity or logic in the thinking of magical people, so he zones out like he does when Uncle Vernon wants to rant at him.

As the group finally quiets down and Dumbledore explains what the next steps are for the champions, Harry tunes back in to listen with half an ear. The other schools’ representatives send him dark looks as they depart, while Cedric gives him a pensive frown. Dumbledore ignores Harry’s attempts to catch his eye and disappears as soon as the discussion ends.

Well that’s just great.

Harry decides to head back to the Gryffindor common room – he needs to vent his anger at this madness to his friends, who will hopefully have his back.

(Though, the look on Ron’s face when Harry’s name had been called… No. Ron knows him better than that.)

Before he gets too far, he hears a voice call, “Harry Potter.”

He turns reluctantly, hoping it’s not another person ready to call him an attention-seeker or cheat, to find Tom Riddle.

Feeling his shoulders lower from his ears where they’d risen in pre-emptive defensiveness, Harry manages a half-hearted smile for the older boy. “Hey. Thanks for trying to help, back there.”

Riddle shrugs and somehow makes the motion elegant. “It was obvious you did not want to be chosen." 

Harry thought so, but apparently they're the only two of that opinion. “What did the Durmstrang headmaster say to you?”

“Nothing I didn’t expect,” Riddle says dismissively. When Harry doesn’t relent, he clarifies, “Igor Karkaroff rejected my application to Durmstrang because I’m not a pureblood. I’m sure you can imagine his opinion of me – and my blood – hasn’t changed in the intervening years.”

Harry can feel his hackles rise. Yes, he can imagine – he’s heard what the pureblood bigots have said about Hermione and the other muggleborn students over the years.

“Well, there’s only one thing to do, isn’t there?” Harry says, grinning sharply. “We’ll both just have to–” absolutely crush them all “–prove them all wrong.”

Riddle’s eyebrows rise slightly and one side of his mouth twitches. “I suppose we will.”

Harry holds out a hand. “May the best champion win.”

Riddle accepts the handshake. “Indeed. I’m glad to have your support.” 

Delivered in a perfect deadpan, it takes Harry a couple moments to realise the other boy is making a joke. He laughs, and Riddle finally lets his face break into a grin.

—

When Riddle uses parseltongue to get past the Peruvian Vipertooth (“What were they thinking, including a human-eating dragon?” Hermione demands when Harry first sees her after the first task) and retrieves the egg in less than two minutes, it causes an uproar. How did someone with Slytherin’s gift, who was born on British soil, not end up going to Hogwarts? The details of Riddle’s first introduction to magic and meeting with Professor Dumbledore are splashed across the front page of the Daily Prophet the following day.

Needless to say, the headmaster is in a bit of hot water with the Hogwarts board of trustees and the pureblood crowd.

(Karkaroff is looking decidedly pale, too.)

Harry thinks he’s the only one who sees the vengeful grin on Riddle’s face while everyone else is staring at Dumbledore getting dressed down. When Harry congratulates Riddle later that day, he knows the older boy understands it’s for more than just retrieving the egg the fastest.

(As for his performance in the first task, Harry’s content with how he did against the Hungarian Horntail, even if he’d gotten a little singed. He might be in second place, but he’s nipping at Riddle’s heels.)

[yawnderu]

I’m sorry for sending another request AKDHSJSHSJ u don’t have write this if u don’t want to

ok so it’s kinda similar to my last request but reader is the evil queen. Like the one from snow white. They ask their mirror who the fairest one of all is and instead of it being her, it’s Miguel. So she decides to journey to him and try to kill him but instead ends up fucking him

Snow White!Miguel O'Hara x Evil Queen!Reader

''Magic mirror on the wall, who is the fairest one of all?''

''Famed is thy beauty, Majesty. But hold, a manservant I see. Rags cannot hide his gentle grace. Alas, he is more fair than thee.'' The mirror on the wall spoke, much to your horror. There had never been anyone who could compete with your beauty, yet you knew the magic mirror could not lie to you.

''Alas for him! Reveal his name.'' You demand, curious to know who exactly took your place. You'd have no issues paying them a visit.

''Eyes like darkened carmine resin, hair the brown of aged mahogany, skin like the mellow-brown light that bathed the forest.'' Was all the mirror replied, yet that was enough for you to know who exactly he was talking about.

''Miguel O'Hara.'' You spat out through clenched teeth, recognizing the features of the little rascal you haven't seen in over 20 years. His mother kept him hidden from the outside world, yet you'd never imagined that was to protect him from your wrath.

... Tough luck for the little bastard, as you now stand outside of a humble cottage disguised as a mere peasant, taking a deep breath before your knuckles make contact with the door. You hear a crash on the inside and a string of curses in Spanish before the door opens, a tall, tanned man opens the door with a small smile, sweat pooling on the middle of his thick eyebrows- it seemed he was in the middle of doing chores.

''Sí?'' He asked quietly, a small, nervous smile on his face as he looks down at you. He changed a lot ever since the last time you saw him- he's now much taller than you, dwarfing your frame with his behemoth 6'9 body, his features are way more defined and he carries himself with more confidence than when he was a scrawny kid.

''Oh, my. You've grown quite a lot, Miguel.'' You reply in your best fake tone, hiding the fact that you want to rip his heart out for having the audacity to take your place. He simply nods once, waiting for you to continue.

''I'm your mother's friend, she told me to wait for her inside.'' You don't even wait for him to reply before you walk past him, ignoring his confused stammering behind you. His mother never invites friends over, opting for completely alienating him from the outside world in fear he'd escape her controlling grasp. He was about to stop you, yet having company other than his family was nice enough for him to ignore all the red flags.

''Lo siento, I was cleaning before you-'' You dismiss him with a flick of the wrist, taking seat on a chair in the dining room before you motion for him to sit down next to you. As annoyed as you were, you were curious about him enough to ignore the urge to claw his heart out. For now. He nods his head, sitting down next to you, his red eyes looking curious as he waits for you to start the conversation.

''I've never seen you around, Miguel. Why is that?'' You ask curiously, tilting your head to the side as you wait for him to explain the lies his mother fed him for over 30 years.

''My mother says it's not safe outside, lots of hunters and wild animals.'' He replies politely, fully believing the lies carved into his brain from a young age, despite the small frown on his plump lips. ''Gabriel is allowed to go outside, though.'' His frown deepens as he thinks about how unfair the treatment is, yet his gaze focuses on you the moment your hand rests on his thigh. He raises an eyebrow, giving you a questioning look.

''Isn't that unfair?'' You ask with mock empathy, pretending to match his frown. ''You're so much bigger and braver than Gabriel is, yet Conchata doesn't let you go out... how odd and cruel.'' As if your plans for him aren't crueler. You resist the urge to smile as he nods his head in agreement, seemingly already used to your hand on his thigh. Hook, line, and fucking sinker.

''I could help you see the outside world, you know?'' You say gently, your hand starting to slowly run up and down his leg, yet he doesn't seem to protest yet.

''My mother wouldn't like that... I try my best to be respectful.'' He already spent his teenage years trying to escape and getting punished for it. He got it out of his system already.

''Ah, but you wouldn't like to see the huge castles? All the animals on the outside, tasting the best food the country has to offer...'' You trail off, your hand slowly cupping his groin. You hear him suck in a breath, his leg slowly starting to bounce, yet all he can do is nod his head in agreement with you. He'd love to see all those things, it's everything he ever wanted. Maybe he could even fall in love, like in those fairy tales he reads whenever he's not being burdened with chores.

''I'd love that.'' He said softly, his eyes closing when you started rubbing his groin softly, your fingers teasingly squeezing his hardening length as you continued to make conversation like nothing is happening. You just started touching him, yet his breathing was already growing heavier, his bulky chest rising up before falling as his head slightly tilted back.

''I could show you great pleasures, if you let me.'' This time, you're not talking about the outside world. Your hands fumble with the zipper of his pants once he nods his head, eyes still closed as he softly bites his plump lower lip.

There's no harm on playing with your prey, is what you tell yourself as you bring him in for a kiss, your hand gently rubbing up and down his thick shaft as he softly groans into your mouth, his inexperienced tongue wrapping around yours as you both battle for dominance. Of course, despite his best efforts, you win. He breaks away from the kiss, bending down until his forehead is leaning on your shoulder as you continue to jerk him off, fingers teasingly rubbing against the mushroom tip, pre-cum only serving as lube once you continue your movements.

''Good boy.'' You praise, and he can sense the arrogance in your tone, yet it feels too good for him to ask you to stop. He lets out deep moans and groans as you keep going, already feeling himself going to the edge before you suddenly stop. He looks up at you with an exasperated expression, though he doesn't protest once he sees you sit down on the table, gown folded on your stomach as you expose yourself to him. He doesn't need to think twice before getting on his knees, sloppily starting to lick your cunt with his inexperienced tongue. He's clumsy, yet his plump lips and big tongue feel too good for you to care.

''Keep going.'' You moan out and he obeys like a dog, eating your pussy out like a starved mad man who just found a home. His tongue seeks shelter inside your cunt, pushing itself in and out as he begins to rub his dick up and down, the same way he has been doing for so many years, thinking about this moment. He tries to go back to licking your cunt as you push him away, yet your glare is enough for him to stop, standing up when you instruct it.

''Put it in.'' You say bluntly, too impatient to wait for him to be inside you. It has been so long, and although you're still mad about him taking your place, you'll deal with him properly when the time comes. He nods his head, carefully lining up his dick to your hole, moaning when the sensitive skin makes contact with the mix of his saliva and your arousal. He starts to slowly go in, hissing as your tight cunt swallows him up, his forehead resting on your shoulder. You can feel the bared fangs against your neck, yet you know he's too good to do anything.

''Ay, Dios...'' He groaned once he bottomed out, his moaning mixing in with yours as he began to move, slowly building up a faster rhythm as his arms wrapped around your waist. He was now slamming into you, looking into your eyes a few times to bask in your expression, always making sure you're also feeling good. Your long nails scratched down his back, his low growls making you smirk.

''Just like that.'' You said between moans, already feeling yourself close to the edge as your hand came down to rub your hardened clit as Miguel went faster and deeper, fangs bared as he looked down at you. At this point, his behemoth frame was using your much smaller body as a fleshlight, too lost in experiencing pleasure for the first time to even bother being embarrassed.

''Voy a-'' He interrupted himself as he pulled out, jerking himself off while you were still too dazed from your orgasm, barely managing to feel the warm liquid landing on your wet, abused hole.

[mischiefandlies]

Still love you. Promise.

Loki x reader

Masterlist

Notes: Reader (like me) has two parents and a brother who takes the piss in any possible situation (it's a talent at this point).

Warnings: horrible git being mean to Lokes. But no, except for a bit of swearing, not really.

You and Loki had been seeing each other for a while now, so when you happened to be in town for a mission, you decided to go and visit your parents. Loki agreed to come with you, and so you told your mum that you and he would be joining them for Sunday dinner. Loki (not that he let on to you) was absolutely bricking it- what on earth was he supposed to say to your parents? Hi, nice to meet you, I'm that alien god that caused an extra-terrestrial invasion 6 years ago. He couldn’t think of any conceivable universe where your parents would accept him.

To be fair to Loki, you were slightly nervous yourself. Sure, you and your brother had bought home a few oddballs before, but you’d never snagged a prince from another planet. Even you had to admit, you weren’t expecting the best reception.

To your surprise, it went extremely well. Your mum and Loki seemed to chat all the time; he was even helping out in the kitchen. When all five of you sat round the table, you were cracking jokes and laughing, and your brother and Loki both ended up taking the mick out of each other. Only your dad was quiet, but by the end of the day, he seemed to have warmed up to your boyfriend a little more. “You seem happy,” your dad said, out of earshot of everyone else. “It looks like he makes you happy.”

“He does.” you agree.

Your dad looks him up and down and sighs. “I suppose that’s all that matters. If you’re happy, I’m happy.”

It was on the drive back that you noticed how quiet Loki was. Eerily so.

“Are you alright Lo?” you ask.

“I’m just fine darling.”

“Are you sure?” you ask.

There's no reply. Loki's looking out the car window, avoiding eye contact with you. You take one hand off the steering wheel to hold his hand. He leans over and presses your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles (and making it difficult to focus on the road).

He pipes up eventually, saying “Are your parents always like that?”

“Why?” you ask, “Did they say something?”

“No love. They're just… not as I expected.”

You wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t. Eventually, you have to ask, “What were you expecting if not that?”

He sighs deeply. “When I was on Asgard, I was presented as a suitor for several other royal families, as well as high up members of the nobility. I would have to go and meet the fathers of potential brides before meeting the brides themselves. Often, Thor and I would both attend, and he would always be picked as the better of the two. It was normally because he was first in line, but there was the occasion when the fathers felt the need to give me some feedback. “Too weak” or “scrawny”. “The runt of the pair”. There was one comment in particular that stung- it was an Asgardian noble, but his sister worked in the palace’s infirmary. He knew about my heritage. He told me “I wouldn’t let my daughter marry a sly, cold-blooded bastard like you for all the gold in Asgard.” And yet, your parents didn’t have an unkind word to say.”

You are too shocked to respond. How the fuck could anyone spit such cruel words into another person’s face? Especially when that person was as kind and respectful and sweet as Loki, a man who had looked at you with nothing but pure adoration since you met.

“Loki, that is a horrible thing for someone to say.” You finally found your voice. “You’re not weak or scrawny, and you should never have been pitted against Thor like that. It’s so wrong. And of course my parents like you- they can see how happy you make me.”

Loki mumbles something you can’t catch.

“Pardon?”

“I said you don’t think you’d be happier with someone else?”

“God, no,” you reply. “Loki, how often do I need to tell you “I love you” before you believe it?”

Loki perks up at this. “You really still love me?”

“You think I've changed my mind since this morning?”

He looked a little sheepish. “Well, I don’t know, do I?”

“Loki, I will love you till the end of time. Promise.”

[suzukiblu]

I’m assuming dp stands for Danny phantom, so maybe Danny/Match with ´´Are you like, stupid?´´

if not, than Match/Bart with ´That was unexpected’

Your writing scratches my brain so much! Whenever I read your stuff I get sucked into a time hole, and I don’t get back out until hours later!

"That was unexpected," definitely-not-Inertia observes. Match gags on the dust and debris in the air of this mostly-collapsed basement and throws up again.

That's probably a concussion thing, not the dust, he thinks. It feels like a concussion thing. He's definitely experiencing concussion symptoms right now, at least according to what's in his information uploads.

"Ew," still-not-Inertia says, leaning down to peer at him. "You okay, man?"

"Fuck off," Match rasps. Impulse squints at him.

"You just saved my life," he informs him skeptically. "Was that, like, an accident?"

"It was a mistake," Match growls.

"Hm," Impulse says, then grabs his arm and yanks him to his feet. Match doesn't stop him, mostly because he didn't expect the scrawny little bastard to be strong enough to manage it.

Ugh.

"Well, thanks, I guess," Impulse says, then looks around the basement and amends, "You know, assuming I don't die anyway. Dying sucks. But like, you know that. Well, maybe not in this timeline. Uh–don't worry about it if you don't. Like, definitely don't."

Match debates throwing up on him. He's probably fast enough to avoid it, though, the asshole. Match has super-speed too, obviously, but not enough of it to keep up with a dedicated speedster.

"Shut up," he says, because that at least he can do.

Impulse stares at him for a moment that probably takes a damn year in subjective time, then just shrugs and disappears in a crackling electric blur.

Match still isn't fast enough to keep up with him, so he just pretends he didn't feel the brief press of the other's lips against his cheek.

[halfmylife]

Meet Me in the Woods

Pairing Sihtric x reader

Summary You and Sihtric were young when you met, just children in the forest. Now you’ve grown up and gone your separate ways, only to be reunited.

Warnings none, mentions of violence if you squint real hard

A/N this was based on this lovely request and yes this will be a mini series hopefully but I’m not sure how many parts it will be just yet! Hope you all enjoy!

The man that stood before you was not the boy you once knew.

The boy that skulked through the forest was scrawny and always stuck to the shadows, never dancing with the sunlight that peeped through the trees. He always remained in the corner of your eye never to be caught.

No one else paid him much mind. The other children would often play amongst themselves, scurrying through the woods like rabbits chasing one another. You always remained by the small stream. It was peaceful there, quiet.

The boy would keep his distance but you could always feel his eyes on you, watching, observing your every move. Sometimes you would do the same. Every so often your eyes would meet. It took a while for you to finally speak.

But now it was you who stood observing his every move. The way his hand flexed around the hilt of the blade. How his eyes seared into Uhtred’s yet had an undercurrent of a plea.

This was that boy there was no doubt in your mind. This was your Sihtric.

He never looked your way.

Perhaps he didn’t notice you at first, shrinking behind your brother, watching the scene play out in front of you. Perhaps he was more focused on keeping Halig in place. Perhaps he didn’t even recognise you.

You couldn’t place the last time you saw him or the last time you spoke. You hated yourself for not being able to remember the last words you said to each other. All because they were never supposed to be your last words together.

The gods had pulled you away from one another only to reunite you once more. The only cost of all this was that he wouldn’t look your way.

“You are Kjartan’s man.” Uhtred barely looked taunted by this small display. You both knew he wouldn’t do anything.

“No, I’m Kjartan’s bastard son.” He spat back. His eyes were wild as he watched your brother carefully. “You are Uhtred Ragnarson and I wish to serve a warrior and a lord. A true lord.”

“If you believe me to be these things then put down your sword.” Uhtred spoke nonchalantly, challenging the man before you. He hesitated.

“You guarantee my life?” His voice became shaky as he started to look around. Swords were already drawn, yours included.

“Put down your sword.” Uhtred urged, stepping a little closing keep his gaze set on the shaking boy in front of him. You were sure he met your eyes if only for a second.

“Kill him.” The priest beside you shouted. You had half the thought to put your blade to him but knew Uhtred wouldn’t be happy if you did.

“No!” Uhtred snapped back, barely casting him a glance, still focused on Sihtric. He lowered his voice again. “Put down your sword.”

He did. Sihtric dropped the sword and stepped back. Halig darted from him, watching carefully for a moment to strike. Not that it would ever come. If Sihtric had bested two of them whilst tied up you doubt Halig would get the upper hand now.

“I can be of use to you lord.” His eyes were wide and he was barely holding himself up.

“He’s nothing but a heathen kill him!” The priest was shouting again. Once more and you were certain you would step in.

“No one is to move.” Uhtred ordered, casting a look directly at the man who continued to protest.

“Kill him now!” He shouted. Uhtred turned on him before you had the chance.

“I said no one is to move and no one is to speak but me! No one.” Uhtred’s voice matched the priests but was far more commanding. The forest was silent as everyone looked on. “What’s your name?” Uhtred stepped forward and you were certain your heart stopped beating as if anticipating the one name you were hoping for.

“I am called Sihtric, lord.” It was him. You were right, that nagging in your stomach had been right. It was your Sihtric. “Please, I’m not loyal to Kjartan and never can be.”

Uhtred paused for a moment, considering everything he’d just heard, studying the boy in front of him. You had once trusted a boy in the woods. Now here stood a man in the woods, asking to swear fealty to your brother. Could you trust him like you used to?

“You swear your sword is mine?” Uhtred asked quietly.

“On Thor’s hammer.” He gripped his pendant with shaky hands as he swore an oath. “I do lord, I swear.”

“Then you have my protection.” He nodded. With a breath of relief, Sihtric sank to his knees, bowing his head.

“Lord, thank you.” He muttered so quietly it was barely audible. You heard him. You heard every word. “Thank you.”

“Sihtric is with us now, he serves in King Gutred’s army.” Uhtred turned his back, leaving Sihtric on his knees and the rest of the crowd quietly confused.

Everyone dispersed, barely glancing at the kneeling Dane. Not you. You remained, still clutching your sword, watching him carefully. You wondered if everyone left, how long would he stay there before asking for someone to untie him or to give him food.

You wouldn’t do that. You couldn’t do that to the boy you once knew.

“Do you intend on kneeling all day?” You asked as you approached him. Sihtric’s eyes snapped to yours in an instant.

There was a wave washing over you, dragging you down beneath its depths as you looked at him but you could tell that he was only floating at the surface.

“Give me your hands.” You spoke quietly, sheathing your sword and opting for a dagger instead. He finally stood up holding out his bound hands to you as if begging to be freed without saying a word.

“Thank you, lady.” His voice shook less as he spoke and you could feel relief washing over him as he visibly relaxed. You tried to hide the pain of him calling you lady. He had never called you that, not once. It was clear he no longer recognised you.

“I am no lady.” You mumbled u see your breath, slicing through the ropes that bound him. Taking a step back, you let your eyes run over him. He was still scrawny perhaps but he also carried muscle, especially in his arms. You shook the thought off. “I hope you intend to keep your word Kjartanson.”

“My sword is his, I will serve him.” He argued, gaze intense as he watched you back.

“Good.” You closed the gap between you, standing inches from him, looking nowhere else but his eyes. “My brother will not hesitate to kill you if you betray him.” You watched as the words settled over him. The ways his features softened as he realised what you’d said. Not the threat, no he finally realised who you were.

No longer the lonely girl in the woods. No longer the girl who picked flowers in the fields and brought them to him. No longer the girl who would stay until dark talking to him. Now you were a shield maiden. Now you were a warrior.

“Neither will I.”

[grow-bettah]

Do you guys want a headcanon/ personal c!Grumbo lore dump? no? okay here It is!!

starting off with my silly guy for obvious reasons- Grian. quick warning i pour a ton of myself into him as a hyperfeminine fat trans man💕

Grian - Avian. Big ol' birdy bird. no set species, he does whatever. TRANSGENDERED. Trans Man Grian owns my life, and this plays jnto my Ariana stuff too btw. Grian doesn't want top surgery, but he's been on T pretty much ever since he joined Hermitcraft, like mid to late s6 he asked X if it was possible to do that for him. He's gotten waaay more confident since then. also he was a scrawny lil guy when he joined HC, but once he got comfortable he let himself heal (no more watchers) he became the fat little rat bastard I know and love. /aff Grian has fibromyalgia! He's an ambulatory wheelchair user and otherwise Mumbo carries his cane around for him just incase he needs it. (it's the colour of Mumbo's eyes. Grian won't tell him, and Mumbo will never know unless told since he can't see his own reflection.)

Ariana Griande was a persona he grabbed up pretty early on in his Hermitcraft career, and nobody except Mumbo, Scar and Gem know that that's him. He very much enjoys playing the part of Ariana every so often and wearing the tight hot pink outfits she does! When he's Ariana he doesn't mind using she/her btw.

CuteGuy is a very recent persona hes started playing. The cute superhero and sidekick to HoTGuy- they know eachothers identities but don't snitch. Mumbo doesn't know that Grian id CuteGuy, and gushes about that 'terribly handsome' superhero to his boyfriend regularly. Both Gri and Mumbo are huge HoTGuy fans and own a good chunk of merch of him. Mumbo does suspect that his Boyfriend is CuteGuy since he conveniently has to go build or farm or whatever whenever another hermit is in need of CuteGuy's help. Grian knows Mumbo's onto him. lol

Mumbo time!! the blorbo

Mumbo! He's a bat slash vampire guy. he's a real fancypants and wears strictly suits and cravats. He does however get it dirty with redstone periodically. His vampire identity isn't a secret- The hermits aren't worried about it since they're aware he drinks from pretty much only Grian. He's also a trans man! Just that he doesn't really use a persona to live out his hyperfemininity like grian, but rather wears dresses, skirts and other feminine clothes whenever he so pleases. He also refuses to get the teta snip, he thinks they look great in his suit jacket thank you very much. He's on T, a fair bit longer than Grian. Also, X knew before Mumbo did that he's trans. hehe. Mumbo WISHES he could eat anything other than Blood because he knows from Scar that his boyfriend's cooking is phenomenal. Also because blood doesn't really get you all that much nutrition which keeps him skinny, which in turn worries Grian all the time because he thinks Mumbo looks like a stick ( a "very hot and sexy stick" according to Grian mind you.) Mumbo has narcolepsy! He's pretty independent even with it obstructing most of his life. But sometimes very short sudden naps aren't too bad (when he's not doing redstone or building. Grian's always around when Mumbo's building up high, just for safety.)

I hope this isn't too much to read y'all! I just needed to dump all of this out on you guys today just to.. explain how my art functions? I guess? MWA kissy

[lassieposting]

I think in KoS duology Nikolai actually mentions that Vasily tried to poison him once.

The discord mentioned this to me when I came up with that theory! Apparently Niko was twelve.

Ngl, I'm wheezing at the idea that this was at a dinner Aleksander was actually present for. And Nikolai bribed Vasily to swap seats so he could sit beside his crush, which Vasily allowed because like. Sure. Drop dead wherever you like, lil bro. The Black General scares the shit out of him anyway.

In Niko's head, he wows General Kirigan with his wit and charm and extensive knowledge of many things. In reality, Kirigan spends 95% of the time talking to Pyotr, and only really acknowledges Nikolai to ask how his lessons are going and whether he's thought about what he wants to do for his military service - infantry? Cavalry? Artillery?

At some point, still focused on talking to the Tsar, Kirigan reaches out without looking and picks up Nikolai's wine glass by accident. When he notices, he makes a face at the taste, laughs it off and makes a joke out of it - terribly sorry, moi tsarevich, I appear to have stolen your drink...more of a whiskey man myself - and has a servant get Niko a fresh glass, no biggie. Vasily, sat opposite, goes rather quiet and slightly pale the rest of the dinner, but Nikolai isn't really focusing on his brother.

The next time he sees Kirigan, a couple days later, he looks like he's been a bit unwell, and that's exactly what he tells Niko - just a little under the weather, moi tsarevich, nothing I can't handle - but unlike Vasily, Nikolai likes to read. He knows Grisha aren't supposed to be able to get sick. He's a smart kid, and he figures out that Kirigan's 'sick' because his body's fighting off poison, and since the rest of the dinner guests are fine and dandy, it was his glass that was spiked, not the wine. Process of elimination leads him to suspect his brother, but he has no proof, so again, best to say nothing.

He doesn't bring it up with Kirigan at that point, because they absolutely do not have that kind of relationship. It's not until many years later that he asks whether Aleksander knew there was something wrong with Niko's glass at that dinner.

"I didn't know," Aleksander tells him, sprawled out like a housecat with his head in Nikolai's lap, "Not until I tasted it. But I suspected."

"I didn't. What gave it away?"

"Vasily. As soon as that wine was brought out, he couldn't take his eyes off you. He was waiting for something. It was cyanide, you know. Vicious little bastard, your brother."

Niko flounders a little, his fingers stilling in Aleksander's hair. "But you barely noticed I existed back then. Why risk your life for me?"

Aleksander quirks an eyebrow at him. "Oh please, sobachka. Poison enough to kill a scrawny otkazat'sya boy will hardly have the same effect on an adult grisha. Besides, while I certainly understand the impulse to poison one's relatives - do not give me that look, you met my mother - I draw the line at doing it at the dinner table."

Nikolai can't help himself. He laughs.

[dilfhos]

BEST PAL.

SHIGARAKI TOMURA x READER

CC: dubc0n, virginity loss, cucking, unprotected s*x, inexperienced sex, pwp

+scummy bf makes you help out his friend >.< [old drabble repost! ]

Dabi being such a good sport to help out his virgin friend, Shigaraki. What a pal offering up his girlfriend to take the guy’s precious innocence.

“C’mon don’t be like that. I thought Shigaraki was cool people!”

“Dabi you don’t even like him,” You protested.

“Not true babe.” He lied. In all honesty, he couldn’t care less if the ashy bastard got his dick wet in his lifetime or not.

But watching how inexperienced Shigaraki was when he tried to stick his tongue down your throat made him hard like none other. Especially when you were trying to be a good sport and take it. It was cute when you’d try to whimper for him to take it easy amidst Shigraki’s frantic yanking of your pesky clothing but Dabi knew his friend; He didn’t do ‘easy’.

Dabi watched quietly from the corner, making sure not to interrupt him as he had his way with you, only speaking up when Shigarki would begrudgingly ask if this or that was right.

“Yeah, grip her tits. She likes that,” Per demand, he does so, crimson eyes sparking up when you arch your back under his touches. Apparently you liked it when he teethed on your nipples a bit too—you were pulling his hair, muffling your squeal in the back of your hand.

“Be sure to tap her clit too, feel how tight she gets?”

Shigaraki would nod excitedly as he felt your walls clench around his dick. Wow, chicks really did dig it when you roughed ‘em up a little too. His grip on your neck had your eyes rolling as you bit back the urge the scream. Despite his inexperience, Shigraki could recognize pleasure from a mile away, thankful for the plethora of women in his desktop. His skinny, newly fucked dick was actually doing something to you.

And Dabi, man as irritating as he was to him all the time, he wasn’t all bad, Shigaraki deduced.

After all he was actually letting him fuck his girlfriend.

You didn’t really know what to feel really. Not with Dabi’s really weird friend humping your pussy like that. Not as he stared you in the eyes like a man crazed as he canted his bony hips against yours, every now and then hitting that delicious spot inside but mostly missing it. But the wild look in his eyes as he desperately rutted you like a dog, his other hands moving carelessly to grope your body made you bothered and wanted. It was cute in a way.

However in the span of six minutes, his face distorted and his hips stuttered. He didn’t even really get into it before his breath was hitching up and his body felt a surge of heat radiating through his veins from the start of his heavy balls.

“Fuck! Cumming! I’m-shit!” His movements spasmed to a halt. And you whimpered as you tried to writhe from under him but he held you in place. For someone as scrawny and paper-thin as he seemed, Shigaraki’s grip was steel. He wanted to move, really he did but the way your gummy walls were constricting him like a fucking vice, he just couldn’t help it. You couldn’t blame him, it’s his first time after all.

Your lips parted as your brows furrowed, staring him straight into his half-lidded eyes as you felt his essence jet into your unprotected little cunt, filling you up with a seemingly never-ending load. He leaned down, sweaty forehead pressed against yours, mouth parted to fan his warm breath across your face.

And as if that wasn’t bad enough, you looked over for reprieve but instead found your boyfriend looking every bit as excited as you felt disgusted.

Dabi had a sickening smile on his face as he drunk in the contempt in your eyes, hand lazily pumping his leaking cock. “I gotta teach you how to eat a woman out man.”

DILFOS. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE OR REUPLOAD MY CONTENT—CURRENT OR ARCHIVAL.

[kazscrows]

Hiiiiii!

Who's your favorite crow? And why?

My heart:

A very special bastard of the Barrel—

But seriously I love Kaz Brekker. He was the first physical disabled character I had ever read that wasn’t like the kind of dorky scrawny one that everyone loves, but they also treat like “Oh no! You have a limp so you must always need help!! You poor little thing! I’ll protect you—” I’ve had plenty of people give me similar looks or say similar things and I know they’re just trying to be nice, but sometimes it’s hard not to feel patronized.

But then here was Kaz Brekker who took his disability and owned it. It didn’t control him, he used it to better himself.

“He’d become Kaz Brekker, cripple and confidence man, bastard of the Barrel.”

No one looked down on him because he had a limp or used a cane. He could take care of himself thank you very much. He’s just so cool!! He’s smart, he’s always twelve steps ahead. He drops the sickest lines you’ve ever heard. He’s not perfect. He’s absolutely amazing but he still has faults. He’s struggling to become better. He likes magic tricks and puzzles. He’s funny and he’s loyal. He is still a dork just not a scrawny one. He’s secretly a romantic. He’s so in love with Inej Ghafa— He’s incredible.

Kaz Brekker just might be my favorite character of all time

[the-heaminator]

11 for england, and anyone you fancy alongside >:)

11- "You're going to regret that." :D I went less feral than last time and forgot this in my drafts for a few months enjoyyyyyyy

(please comment por favor.)

(TW gore, cannibalism, romes shitty parenting)

Why did he have to fight?

Rome had named him Antinous, no one called him the name his mama gave him. He had all but forgotten it too, trying to find it was like slogging through a deep mire and it was not worth the trouble.

He hated fighting on orders. He had no choice though, he would not be fed if he lost, and he couldn’t stand hunger as well as he should do. Rome said his mama had spoiled him rotten, that was what he was told, but now he was strong because of it. Yet he always felt bad attacking that scrawny little runt from Britannia.

He was so small, and because he could never win, he was never fed, grown smaller, madder. Less and less human by the day.

And thus it repeated, it was growing impossible to lose against him, small, blonde and feral, all sparrow bones and gnashing teeth with very little substance behind it, Rome had tried and to an extent succeeded in civilising him. He had failed with the runt.

The thing still bared its teeth when scared, or angry, they were sharp little things, he looked like he carried illness, it was not hard to fight him, he was small and weak, and utterly battered by hunger.

Yet a mad little thing, it was a head and a half shorter than Antinous, but older, allegedly at least, practically a mute because his Latin was not good and was beat if he spoke in much else, he tried not to look at its eyes for too long.

Mouse had a brother, taller, stronger and older, but only barely, the runt only spoke with him in hushed whispers. He could beat the bigger one with ease too, neither had been given names yet, they had only been here for a short time, but long enough to be named surely?

 Rome could not be that indifferent to their existence, that was not wise, to ignore his most recent charges would be foolish. But as of yet he called the smaller one runt, because he was more mouse than man, a creature, afraid and skittish, ready to bite and snarl at the slightest touch.

Rome was watching now, he took some type of joy in watching them fight, he already knew the winner of course, it really was impossible for Antinous to lose, the runt could barely hold his gladius correctly and looked ready to collapse out of fear and exhaustion, Antinous was good with a gladius, the sword came from his people and all, he knew how to wield it.

It was insulting how little the runt even tried against him honestly, bared his belly and let Antinous do his worst, no doubt he would escape and go off to lick his wounds in the dark later. Like a frightened little puppy.

He hated such cowardice, he was not going to have his half-bred bastards to be cowards and weaklings, rolled over and took the blow, if he thought it would get him any amount of pity he was wrong.

It wouldn't, not if he was here, he could not afford to raise cowardice or pity. Antinous hated it for something different, he couldn’t bring himself to hurt him if the runt couldn't bring himself to fight.

No no no, he would not have this.

He almost squeaked when he was lifted from his side like an unruly little creature, there was some improvement in him, Rome noted, very little, but there was some. When speaking to him, he no longer snarled and just stayed quiet. Good, he had to learn obedience or he would not survive in such a world.

“Boy, why do you not fight?” He did not expect much of an answer, he only spoke his barbarian language readily, but he got an answer in Latin. Slow and heavy like cold honey.

“H-Hungry, no food.”

“You will only be fed if you win.” Flat, be all and end all “Antinous can attest to that.” 

Rome  turned over to him, blank-eyed and covered in mousey blood, he still needed training, and yelled “Don’t you, boy .” There was menace beneath those words and he almost bolted, he did not want to be here to witness whatever Rome was about to do to the mouse. But didn’t. He was not a coward.

“He can fight and is fed. You need to stop being a coward and fight." Rome knew it understood very little of what he said, too scared and starved and ill to even try. Once more he set him down to fight. Barely sinking into the sand under his feet.

He went in for the blow, and paused halfway through, no, he couldn’t. The mouse was standing now, but barely, a head shorter and so much thinner, how could he fight someone so much weaker than him? He had a heart yet, and it screamed at him that this was not right.

 So much weaker, it wouldn't even be good training for him. He could spare him. He could, he should, it was not worth a death, dying hurt, regenerating hurt more. And you needed food to regenerate. He was always utterly starved after he had to regenerate, and the mouse had no food.

He would be more starved than before, and then he would lose more fights, and then he would be fed less, and over, and over, and over….

It was not right, no.

But orders had to be followed or he would end up on the wrong side of the sword, he was not noble enough for such a thing, to die for someone like that, some thing rather, orders would have to be followed, it was best to not think of him as a boy, and think of it as a creature. He had fought many animals, this would be no different.

Thrust the sword and tore a hole, slashed and cut at his skin, his gladius went through like a hot knife through butter, he knew it would be easy, it always was. Yet it was always a surprise how little substance the mouse seemed to have to him, paper-thin skin and sparrow bones, no fat and barely enough meat to feed a stray mutt. Blood spilling onto the sand, and both of them wrinkled their nose, even Rome had to admit blood should not smell like that, dipped his fingers in the hole, and tasted the blood, it tasted wrong too. Human blood should taste like iron. This tasted bitter. Already rotting and he had been dead barely a moment.

Rome knew the boy could have spared it he knew that, but his mutt would not be falling with such a pathetic creature, he was better than that

   Yes. The mouse was pathetic, Antinous would keep telling himself that, over and over in his head till he believed it.

But it didn’t feel good, bile in his throat and a shiver in his hand. He felt powerful, yes, but the feeling made him ill and light-headed. Was this what being drunk with power felt like? How did Rome like this? It frightened him.

It was an odd feeling, terrifying, intoxicating, a dizzying concoction. Rome looked at him like he was a dog, his dog.

To make up for it today he decided to share his hard-won food with the runt once he was revived, Rome would not be pleased, but he would not kill him for it, hopefully.

Rome knew the boy lived for praise, like a dog, he didn’t often have to punish Antinous, a pat on the head and some food tamed him, a simple creature. He wouldn’t rebel, standing off to the side, covered in blood with a haunted look in his eyes. No matter how strong he was you could only be as ruthless as your heart let you, and the boy was still soft inside.

Looking down at the dead little mouse, gored through the abdomen, called Antinous over, forced him to look down at what he had done, his power “You will do great things, boy.”

“As you say, Master.” He could hear him swallow thickly, he didn’t cry, he was not a child.

He continued, staring down at the runt’s body, decaying faster than it should "You should have no place in your heart for pity, especially not for the weak.” 

He could see the boy wrestling with his mind, mouth slightly open before snapping shut again and thinking longer, fingers entwined and wringing, it wouldn’t wring out the blood, it had started to crust, mouth open again, Rome wanted to see if the boy was stupid enough to try and speak.

And he was, it was not his brightest moment “Forgive me, Master, but why do you make me fight the mouse, he is not well and if he keeps dying he will only get smaller and weaker. Why do you not feed him.”

Still soft in the mind. He looked at the child coldly, and then to the bleeding corpse on the ground. 

Always such a sight to see the small one heal, he was so fast, decaying faster than most, skin rotted fast and fell off in thick black clumps, blood dried and flies swarmed almost at double speed. Brittle bones bared themselves before he started to stitch himself back together, faster than the others too.

Flesh over his bones wove like a loom, thinner and weaker. But alive.

Painfully alive

He didn’t have it in him to get up and curled up in a pained little ball instead, licking his wounds surely, if he was to act more beast than man then he would be treated as such.

It made Antinous feel a little sick, to see the little thing shiver and suffer solely because he was just following orders, because he was too scared to do otherwise.

Rome’s eyes were cold “He is weak, yes, and he is sick, but why be soft with such a thing.” He was looking directly into Antinous’ eyes, “Would you rather he suffer now or suffer forever, finish him off now and he will not have to live like an animal.”

Antinous could feel Rome’s hand on his shoulder, it was a gentle grip yet.

“Besides, he is more animal than human, he is not like us. You are not like him. Pity is for the weak. Are you weak?”

He could feel the grip on his shoulder tightening, he could taste blood and he didn’t know why, swallowed thickly, he should not be afraid of his Master, but he was.

Rome could see the thoughts whirring in his head like a storm, “Then why don’t you name him?”

“Do you think he warrants a name, do you think he is enough of a person to deserve one.”

He felt his cheeks flush red, he should have kept his mouth shut…but well…he had already started to talk, what harm would a bit more be?

“Yes. He does. Sir.”

Rome did not expect such disagreement, not out of Antinous of all people, tightened his grip on the boy's shoulder till he heard him hiss in pain, he could draw blood, but chose against it, spoke so close to his ear that Antinous could feel his breath on his neck.

“Then what would you like to call him?”

Antinous had not genuinely given this thought, he hadn’t expected Rome to humour him, and now he was at a loss for words. Rome dug his fingers deeper into his shoulder, Antinous could feel the skin puncturing, it would have healed rapidly too, had Rome not kept the wound open.

Between the pain, he managed to hiss out “Ask him about it, Master, ask him his name.”

“He does not speak to me, if he wants to play a mute then why should I coax him out of it.” He withdrew his hand, Rome could see the blood stain his shirt.  “He is mine as you are mine, and did I ask for your name?”

He did have a point there, a nasty little point it was, but a point nonetheless.

“You did not.”

Rome was looking through him, he didn’t know why.

"You will regret asking that. Boy." His eyes fixed somewhere behind Antinous.

"Regret what?"

He found out when a sword bit into his throat and the world faded to black, the last thing Antinous saw were eyes greener than they should be.

Greener than any gemstone, any leaf, and they were as mad as they were green. Hungry

Antinous knew he had let his guard down, but could you blame him, he had thought he had disposed of the mouse, it hadn’t even tried to fight, he was now. 

To Rome fighting wasn’t the right word, attacking, desperation perhaps, he had indulged in human flesh  plenty before, the feeling of warm flesh under your fingers, blood pooling and desperate writhing was a feeling you could not match. But this was different.

Simply put this was gluttony, animalistic gluttony, the mouse gutted Antinous barehanded, holding up his heart to the sun like a spoil of war to Mars.

                                    Before biting into it.

Oh, the sweet joy of satisfying hunger left to fester for too long. He made such a pretty noise with his sharp little elbows buried in Antinious' chest. Rome would like to remember that sound. 

[atopvisenyashill]

there’s this old post that’s a comment on the movie the prince of egypt, the scene where moses kisses tzipporah as she’s sleeping and someone said you can tell whoever animated it had been in love before because of how well they capture the feeling in just a few seconds. i feel similar about george & siblings - sometimes i’m reading and i think “this is a man who adores his sisters” ya know.

i was thinking of that a lot while reading dunk & egg, bc the main series goes more into the painful sides of being a sibling - doran’s grief over being the oldest yet the only one still alive, the repeated “promise me ned” haunting ned his entire life, sansa & arya constantly thinking around each other bc thinking of each other is too painful, dany’s dream of viserys in adwd, and jon’s “what do you know of my heart” and the snowflakes melting in robb’s hair are all some of the most heart breaking moments for me because i can feel how much they long for home and home isn’t a place it’s each other, the pain & longing they feel will never ease because the bond between siblings is so unique it can’t be replaced so you just carry this heavy pain around forever.

but dunk & egg…dunk threatens to clout egg like twice every page but he never does it. egg is always talking back but whenever he sees dunk is serious, he bites his tongue and glowers “as only eleven year olds can.” egg insists on being a taste taster for dunk (a prince, a man who will one day be king, insisting that he doesn’t trust any of these shouty bitches & eating everything before dunk does to protect his bastard born, base born, hedge knight big brother like). dunk is always whinging on at egg like some beleaguered, put upon oldest brother and egg fires back immediately with something stupid. “i don’t want to taste your feet in my food” “well your food sucks shit my feet would only make it taste better.”

dunk says when he was a kid he used to chase scrawny little boys around but was told to stop because sometimes little boys have big brothers. and sometimes little kings have big brothers too!

[januaryembrs]

MASTERMIND | Theon Greyjoy x Bolton!reader

Request: @marsconer says - hii!! hru? the requests are still open? if so i can request for a theon one, with mastermind by taylor swift as a prompt?

description: You knew you wanted him, none of it was accidental. Theon had no idea the Bolton bastards were masterminds.

Word count: 1.1k

trigger warnings: dark!reader. reader is not mentally well and believes Theon loves her even though he doesn't know her. RAMSAY KINDNESS? Ramsay loving the Reader as her brother. hints of Theon's torture.

main masterlist

authors notes: First I'm so sorry this is so late to be published things have taken a turn in my life and writing has had to be put on the back burner. but I'm back! and I'm trying something new, I've never done a dark reader before. I hope this was okay! I feel like its not but I'm trying :)

You knew you wanted him the moment you set your eyes on the Stark’s ward.

He wouldn’t recognise you, how could he? The last time you’d ever seen him he was a teenager, too busy chasing girls in pretty skirts and competing with Robb for the fair maiden’s attention to take note of such a plain, quiet girl like you. 

Ramsay noticed you staring almost immediately. Being your older brother, possibly the only person in the world who understood you and loved you since you were both Bolton bastards, he was determined to give his sweet, little monster anything she wanted. 

“He’s caught your eye, sister?” His ice-blue eyes followed your entranced gaze to see the scrawny Greyjoy boy, too busy yanking a maid’s pigtails to notice you looking. His eyebrows furrowed, “Are you sure you don’t want someone stronger? Someone who could protect you and whatever babes you give him,”

“He has a kind face,” The maid squealed, and noble Ned Stark leant forward to smack both Rob and Theon across the ears to set them in place. “You will get him for me one day, won’t you Ramsay?”

Ramsay looked down at you from your place at the back of the dining hall. Being bastard children, you were not permitted to sit with your father beside the noblemen. Instead, you were among the last to collect your supper, drank the dregs of the wine the other Stark council did not consume, sat near the chill of the open windows. You had less in this world one might think for those born to a nobleman like Roose, but Ramsay had always made sure you had the best he could get, even if it meant getting his knuckles bloodied as it did most of the time. 

“Of course, sweet-hearted. Anything you want is yours. When you’re of age to marry, he will be yours,” He smiled with too many teeth as he always did, making his face look sinister to others, but to you he was your dearest brother. The only one who understood the way your mind worked, in a way that others would call twisted you called unique.

Watching Theon Greyjoy that day, you knew your brother would never fail you. 

Ramsay made good on his promise as he always did. A few days after your ten and eighth birthday, he led you down to the lower passages of Dreadfort claiming he had a present for you. You had never quite forgotten about the Stark’s ward. But with the chaos the people were now calling the war of five kings, you had some trouble keeping up with his whereabouts. He had betrayed the Starks, killed the youngest two boys, boys he had grown up with like brothers, all for his own gain of power.

Nothing could make you so certain he was perfect for you. A man who would stab his company in the back in the name of helping his genuine family was exactly the man you wanted.

You had always known he would be special, that he would understand the way your mind ticked. While everyone called you cruel, he would love you the way you loved him.

So when he led you to Dreadfort dungeons, and there was Theon Greyjoy, strung to a flaying cross, you felt your heart swell in excitement.

“For you, my dear sister. Just as I always promised,” Ramsay presented the man, who looked scruffier than the last time you had seen him, just a few months before the war started. Again you had been just a fly on the wall in Winterfell, but this time was different. This time he would know who you were, know just as well as you did you were perfect for each other.

You squealed, squeezing your brother around the waist in a tight hug. “I knew you could do it, I knew you would never disappoint me,” 

“Please help me!” Theon begged, though his words fell on deaf ears as you moved closer to him, “Please let me go, I’m not supposed to be here,” 

“Of course you are, silly,” You said, reaching up to unbind his arm. You were smiling at him almost too wide, a crazed look in your eye that you shared with your brother, as though this was all a part of a bigger plan he knew nothing about. 

Theon was sure he had seen you before, sure he had felt those two eyes piercing his skull many a time before. But he didn’t know you. 

“W-what?” Theon asked, as his first hand was let free, and you began to undo the second, “What do you mean? I need to leave, I need to find my father,”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you just got here. We need to arrange the wedding first,” You said simply, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. Poor Theon was confused, and his battered face said as much. 

“Wedding? What wedding?”

“Ours, of course,” You replied, working away at the knots in the rope. Theon looked over your shoulder to see Ramsay’s face full of a silent fury, as though he was warning him against upsetting the woman who was trying to free him. 

But Theon being Theon was lost, curious. He was disoriented and tired and hungry, and you were making no sense. “Ours?” He cried in shock, “But, I have no idea who you are,”

You froze before the knot could be pulled free and immediately Theon felt the mistake he had made fall over the room in deadly silence.

Your eyes snapped to him, and the manic look was gone, replaced by pure hurt. “You don’t know who I am?”

“Should I?” Theon felt Ramsay’s eyes darken in the shadows of the dungeon. If what he had said before had been a mistake, then those two words felt like a death sentence. 

Your bottom lip started quivering. All you had ever wanted, ever dreamed of was fading right in front of your eyes. You were supposed to be his, the way he had always been yours. 

“Come, sister,” Ramsay jumped in, tucking you under his arm and leading you to the dungeon door, “I will have a word with your dearest fiance, I fear he is feeling a bit under the weather at the moment,” You retreated away from the Greyjoy boy, knowing sweet Ramsay would fix everything for you as he promised. “Let me have a word with him, make sure he remembers to cherish you even in his sickness,” 

You nodded solemnly, your sad eyes never leaving Theon’s fear stricken face as he realised the hidden threat in your brother’s words.

And within moments, the door was closed and he was left with the vengeful face of Ramsay Snow, and Theon wanted for nothing more than to have you back near him, promising him the world.