#names changed to protect anonymity

[buggie-hagen]

Sermon on Day of Pentecost (6/8/25)

Primary Text | John 14:8-17

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Jesus says, ���If you love me, you will keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Comforter, to be with you forever. This is the Spirit of truth” (John 14:15-17). Dear People of God, As Christians, we cannot help but do the commandments. Love God. And love him with all our heart, all our soul, all your mind, and all our strength. And love our neighbor as ourselves—whether our neighbor be friend, stranger, or enemy, love we must. As Christians, we are simultaneously completely free, and completely unfree. Completely free because we are under obligation to no one and nobody. We are completely unfree because we are under obligation to everyone and anyone. Two realities that are true at the same time. Even though we must serve our neighbor in love, we serve freely, spontaneously, and gladly do we do good to others. But you do not do the works of God by your own power. All your good works are done through the Holy Spirit who lives in you. On Pentecost, we ought to know who the Holy Spirit is, and what he does. Jesus gives us a helpful way to understand him, “The Comforter, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you” (John 14:26). In other words, just as Jesus doesn’t say anything different from the Father, so too, the Holy Spirit says nothing different from Jesus. All three persons of the Trinity have one will—to point all people everywhere to Jesus Christ as book of Life. As our one Redeemer. The Holy Spirit is the Spirit of truth. There is only one Holy Spirit. And he cannot lie. He only tells what he has heard from the Father and the Son. And though he speaks the world refuses to listen to him. Even many so-called Christians don’t understand who he is or what he does or what he says—because they view him as a creature, as something less than God. The Holy Spirit is God and Lord just as much as the Father and the Son are God and Lord—though we don’t have three gods and three lords, but one God, and one Lord. The world cannot receive the Holy Spirit because it neither sees him nor knows him (John 14:17). The world as it is, is quite comfortable with the way things are. When the Holy Spirit speaks, the world shuts its eyes, plugs its ears, and flees. The world is trained to listen to anything but the Holy Spirit; for, there is a ruler of this world, the devil, and he doesn’t want to give up his kingdom. But the Holy Spirit does not stop speaking, because he speaks the very words of God. And those whom God has called out of this world—he leads to the church. The Holy Spirit brings us to the church’s lap, where he preaches to us and brings us to Christ. For that is the proper work of the Holy Spirit—to teach us about Christ. Christ’s death on the cross. Christ’s resurrection from the dead. So, church is actually essential. If we want to be Christians, if we want to be saved, we must not scorn the church, we must not think of it as an optional part of life. But don’t think of the church in its institutional form when I’m talking about the church. Think of the church as those gathered around the word of God, and the sacraments. Like children, we must gather on the floor before the Holy Spirit—the one who will teach and preach to us of Christ. Apart from the preaching of Christ there is no Church, there is then no Holy Spirit, and there is then, no salvation. But when Christ is preached, there one has the treasures Christ won for his church, a people gathered—treasures such as the daily and abundant forgiveness of sin, life from death, and freedom from the devil. All gifts which become ours through faith—when we believe Jesus died for us, by his wounds we are healed.

The Holy Spirit is called the Comforter because he comforts us with Christ. All other comforts may fail, but Christ will always remain for you. The Holy Spirit lives with you and will always be among you. The good thing he has begun with you he will not abandon until it bears fruit, fruit that will last. Today we celebrate two new members of the church. Dear Dan and Jessica, you are two people whom God the Holy Spirit has brought to the lap of the church. Before here, you were at the former St. Junia Lutheran Church. But now you are here, at St. Jacob Lutheran. And what can I say for you, as your pastor. I can say nothing but what the Holy Spirit has given me to say. If I ever depart from that, then all is lost. But by the grace of God, I will always preach Christ to you. The beauty of the church of Jesus Christ is that we have one Lord, one faith, one baptism, and one God and Father of all. It is a grief that our sister church St. Junia’s has closed its doors. You miss what you once knew. You miss the family of faith that was yours for so many years. But do not lose your trust in God. You have not been left as orphans. God remains your Father—whom you can come to and ask for anything in the name of Jesus. He remains your hope. By God’s grace alone, and not by our own efforts, we at St. Jacob Lutheran Church are one family with you. Of one blood the Lord has made all people, that one blood is none other than the shed blood of Jesus Christ on the cross. In Him, we are the same church, because the church is one. We share the same faith. We pray for you as you pray for us. We gladly love you as you gladly love us. Christ is Lord. And you belong to him. And because we belong to him, we belong to each other. (pause) I say to you all now, these words I do not speak on my own: The Holy Spirit has led you here, placed you in the lap of the church, and daily says, “I forgive you.” “I forgive you.” “I forgive you.” And 20 minutes after church you will find yourself in sin yet again, doing and saying and thinking things you ought not to. Or refraining from what you ought to do. Either way, I forgive that sin too. And now you are forgiven. Forgiven forever. You have an eternal forgiveness. Peace not as the world gives but as God Almighty gives, is yours now. God has freed you to no longer have a troubled heart, he has freed you not to be afraid anymore. And that is the peace the world cannot give. This peace I give you here and now.

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Seeing ghosts in Gotham

He’s walking alone. Despite how dark it is, he’s not particularly nervous, not like the couple of people hovering in an alley.

His shift at Batburger went a little long, not that he’s complaining, he needed the money.

Everything is fine. Splendid. Fantastic. A little quiet, enough to pretend it’s a nice stroll home like it was back in Amity. Of course that all kind of goes up in flames when a dark figure drops into a crouch right in front of him. About two arm lengths away is a guy who straightens to a little taller than Danny himself. From the flickering street light across the street he can spot red, crisscross yellow, and a dark cape.

Red Robin.

Danny shakes his head and turns around.

“Nope.”

A smaller body is already standing behind him, blocking his path. The little guy with a serious face folds his arms across his chest as if challenging Danny to try to get by him.

He’s had enough tussles with Danielle to know better than to test the kid.

Danny rubs at his eyes with a hand, purposefully keeping the other limp at his side. He turns back around.

“Okay. Fine. What? What do you want?”

“You sent in a folder of information to solve the Boothe case,” Red Robin states confidently like there wasn’t any doubt it was Danny who sent it in.

He frowns. It was sent in anonymously. As in they shouldn’t be able to know it was him. Then again they are detectives in their own right even if they dress weird.

“See? This is why no one helps out the police if they’re gonna get grilled for it later on,” he complains sourly.

“That case is connected to another string of crimes we’ve been investigating. I need to know where you got your information.”

Danny glares at him for a second, actually thinking about telling him, then he remembers how quickly these guys throw people into Arkham.

“Do you not get what anonymous means?”

“What is your source?” He asks, completely ignoring Danny’s concerns.

“What are gonna do? Dangle me over the side of a building to get me to talk like you do with the criminals you guys pick up? Go ahead. See where that gets you,” he shrugs indifferently.

“You’re a runaway.”

Danny’s eyes widen in surprise before narrowing into a warning as he turns to look at the pipsqueak that spoke.

“From your poorly made fake ID and the fact you don’t look close to eighteen, you must be a runaway minor. We could bring you in to the proper authorities if you prove to be… uncooperative.”

Danny sneers in annoyance.

“Seriously?” He turns back to Red Robin. Clearly the older of the two and the one leading this investigation. “This is what I get for trying to help? Blackmail?”

“Robin can be a bit… abrasive. I, on the other hand, can appreciate a different approach.”

Suddenly there’s a couple pieces of paper money in between his fingers. Danny couldn’t see how much it was from this far away, but it didn’t really change how he felt about the whole situation.

“Now bribery? Wow, you guys really got the whole good cop, bad cop thing down, don’t cha?”

“Then what do you want?”

“For you to stop wasting your time,” Danny answers with a snap.

Red Robin pauses.

“Our time,” he repeats calmly.

“Yea. Your time. This is a dead end and you should move on.”

“And why are you a dead end?” Presses Robin.

“Because,” Danny emphasizes with a look over his shoulder, “the guy you’re really looking for, my source as you put it, is dead, okay? So you can’t go ask him questions. I sent in everything that was relevant. Find another lead.”

Red Robin’s expression remains blank as he mentally calculates his next move. Danny hopes he takes his advice and let him go home.

“His name?”

Danny folds his arms over his chest, a pathetic attempt to protect himself. He chews on his lip a minute. To tell him or not to tell him. It’s not really ratting the guy out since he’s, you know, dead. Although there is a large chance Danny’s missing something and it’s all going to lead back to him somehow.

“I didn’t kill him.”

“I never said you did,” the vigilante replies calmly, almost nonchalant.

Danny shifts his weight with nerves. He really wasn’t getting out of this without giving them something, huh?

“Greg,” he grinds out like it’s painful.

Silence for a few moments, then-

“As in Gregory Boothe?”

The victim of this whole conversation? Yes.

Danny’s silence is answer enough and the diverted gaze just solidified their suspicions.

“Gregory Boothe’s body turned up a month ago. Presumably he’d been dead for several weeks before that.”

Red lets that damning information hang in the air like Danny didn’t already know.

“So when did he talk to you? Last week?”

Danny jerks at the off handed joke, actually taking a step back and hitching his shoulders up to his ears. He grimaces at his knee jerk response, but can’t take it back. A glance toward the vigilante shows a calculating stunned expression from what he can see ignoring the mask. He looks away again finding a discarded soda can very interesting.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Demands Robin behind him.

Danny tried to resist the urge to curl even more into himself, but knows he failed without even having to look.

“You’re a medium,” Red Robin states. It’s not even a question.

Danny flinches and shoots the guy a scared glare.

“I am not one of those scam artists,” he hisses firmly.

“No,” Red agrees, “you’re not. You didn’t ask for money or attention.”

Danny stares like it’s his first time seeing him. The lack of aggression or accusations was new and a little disarming. He was genuinely confused as to why the guy wasn’t immediately going to denial or throwing him in Arkham.

“Hell of a city to hide in when you can see ghosts,” Red Robin says in a light tone like he was teasing him. The small tug to his lips just proves it.

Danny’s shoulders practically sag at the playful demeanor. A hand reaches up to rub the back of his neck self-consciously.

“Yea, well… no one was gonna look for me here.”

Which was only half the reason he chose Gotham, but it was still truthful.

“So… Greg?”

“Isn’t here right now.” Danny pauses and snorts at himself. “Please leave a message.”

The vigilante does have a sense of humor because he smirks in response to the joke.

“Is there another way to… make contact? Summoning maybe?”

Danny raises an eyebrow incredulously.

“Summoning is rude,” he says like it’s common sense.

Instead he turns to the nearest reliable ghost in the vicinity.

“Hey, Susan, can you go-“

The vigilantes can’t hear how she interrupts him because she was standing there the whole time and knows exactly what he was going to ask.

“Okay, thanks. Meet at mine.”

The ghost woman nods and flies off to go hunt down dear old Greg and Danny turns to Red Robin. He makes a casual move with his head to say ‘follow me’ and continues walking down the sidewalk past the guy and further into the old, decrepit buildings he’s been squatting in.

They already know he’s a runaway, being homeless shouldn’t come as a shock to them. Even with his two jobs, he can’t afford to rent an apartment. No wonder so many people are in poverty or in the slums.

He ducks into his rundown building, ignoring the rats scurrying away, and hops up the rickety stairs, avoiding the ones that were unstable. It was a nightmare figuring out which steps were faulty. Lots of injuries.

At the top he turns to see Red easily copying his movements up the stairs while Robin balances along the railing like a tight rope. When they reach the top at the same time Danny just stares at them for a moment before shaking his head in exasperation. Darn vigilantes. Why did Danny have to get caught up in this mess?

He turns, walking along the floor closest to the wall before getting to what he’s deemed his room.

It used to be an office from what he can tell. A desk pushed against the far wall and a ripped sofa he’s been using as a bed on the other wall. The floors were the most stable in this room which really won out.

Danny goes to the desk where all his papers are scattered over the surface. An organizational pattern only he understands as he shuffles through the pile he pulls from the cubby above the desk. It holds all the same information he sent into the police, just in its raw form with about twice the amount of useless information. Along with it is a few other ‘cases’ that sounds familiar that he just threw together into a pile. Maybe the genius detectives could decipher what he couldn’t.

“Here,” he says, holding out the stack. Red Robin doesn’t hesitate to take it off his hands.

There’s no chair for the desk anymore so he slides some papers out of the way to hop onto the desk to wait.

“No.”

The vigilantes look at him and he shakes his head and looks over to the side.

“No, Abby. I’m not wasting their time.”

Red Robin goes back to flipping through papers. Most of them were old business papers he had found in the office and just written on the back. Some were receipts or pamphlets or some other random scrap of paper he could get his hands on.

“Because yours was an accident. There’s nothing for them to solve.”

Robin watched him cautiously as if waiting for Danny to snap or suddenly turn violent. Instead he leans back on his hands in a vulnerable position which screamed ‘I don’t want to hurt anyone’.

“There is a lot more information here than what was submitted to the police,” Red Robin comments neutrally, purposefully ignoring Danny’s exasperated sigh and one-sided conversation.

Danny shrugs in defense, “Didn’t think all of it was relevant.”

The vigilante doesn’t respond.

Robin drifts closer as Danny gives a withering glare to the corner. He examines the mess of papers surrounding the teen in the low lighting.

“Are these all files of victims?”

Danny glances over them with a knowledgeable eye.

“Most.” He twists to point at the top left corner of the cubbies. “Those are accidents though… well, what sounds like accidents.”

“There should be more.”

Danny looks at the boy with a tilted head and raises brow.

“Not everyone sticks around,” he explains simply.

Then something draws his attention away across the room. Surprisingly his eyes don’t glaze over like someone with mental illness, instead they sharpen to see something they can’t. It resembled Constantine or Thomas.

“Greg, these guys wanna talk to you.”

What proceeds is a very awkward interaction with Danny as a middle man between victim and vigilante. Despite the need for a translator, Red Robin does in fact get a lead from the conversation.

“Thank you for your cooperation.”

Danny nods. “Sure, no problem. Just don’t rat me out to the police and I can help with any other case that pops up with a ghost attached.”

“You know we can help with your living situation,” Red Robin offers with a glance around the room.

“What, and put me in foster care? No thanks, I’ll pass.”

“There are other options,” Robin chimes in with nonchalance that implies he doesn’t actually care.

“You don’t pass for eighteen, but if you let me make you a new ID we could say you’re emancipated.”

Danny frowns.

“I’d have to be sixteen to be eligible for emancipation.”

“You could be sixteen.”

No, he really couldn’t. Maybe if you squint your eyes and tilt your head, but Danny is fourteen with all the baby fat and innocent face that comes with it. His license now is a clear fake to anyone who sees it, but in this city no one’s gonna question it to his face. They just raise a brow, look at him, then shrug it off and roll with the lie.

“What do you want?” He demands. All this good will and wanting to help him can’t be free.

“We want to help,” Red says too easily.

Danny stares for a second, eyes narrowed as he tries to block out the multiple voices around him.

Insurance. He wants Danny to owe him so he can keep coming back for more information.

“I just told you I would help. Why are you still trying to get leverage?” He demands with irritation.

“We want to help-“

“You want me in your back pocket.”

Red Robin doesn’t give that a response, his lips pressing together to make a hard line.

Instead of pushing, he surprisingly takes a step back and heads towards the door, papers still in hand. Danny doesn’t argue.

Robin ducks out first, blending into the shadows without even a glance over his shoulder. Red Robin pauses in the doorway.

“Don’t try to skip town,” he states like an order. Like if Danny did in fact try, he would be found and brought back.

It didn’t even cross Danny’s mind.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he says tiredly, too fed up with the day to defend himself.

Red Robin watches him for a moment before nodding and disappearing out the room.

Danny slumps with a groan, finally sliding off the desk to shuffle to the couch, body flopping face first into the worn cushions.

It’s silent to everyone else but Danny.

“I know.”

…

“I know, Jack, but I don’t trust them. Even if he is your son.”

Danny never noticed the bug planted by Robin on the underside of the desk.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Malleus Draconia - Lord of the Abyss Voice Lines

Lord of the Abyss Malleus Draconia does not have a vignette.

My weakness, inexperience, and even my foolishness will build the very foundation that allows me to grow even more powerful.

Summon: My name is Malleus Draconia. All you small peons would do well to bow your heads and kneel before me.

Groovification: To all those filled with insatiable greed, I shall rain down a punishing bolt of lightning upon them.

Home: This look suits me well.

Swap Looks: I shall permit you an audience.

Home Transition 1: Weaklings may fear overblotting. However, once this power is mastered... It actually isn't so terrible after all.

Home Transition 2: These short-lived and weak beings band together in order to build a better future... Hm. I feel as though I can finally understand the meaning behind Lilia's words.

Home Transition 3: ...Your countenance seems changed slightly. You must have evolved through overcoming the many hardships encountered while traveling from dream to dream.

Home Transition - Login: Heheh... My magical power is overflowing down to my very fingertips. I feel as though I could destroy anything I touch.

Home Transition - Groovy: You wish to see my dream, as well? First, you call me Hornton, and now this... You truly have nerves of steel.

Home Tap 1: The various creatures of the night are beings that live under the divine protection of dusk and moonlight. To my fellow compatriots: Night's Blessings.

Home Tap 2: They may still only be learned apprentices, yet they gave their body and soul to bring me back to the correct path... Heh, it seems I am truly blessed with wonderful retainers.

Home Tap 3: It is a grave sin indeed to trample completely over the deeds of those who strived to see me hatched safely. Those senile senate wretches... What sort of punishment would be fitting for them?

Home Tap 4: Within the horns of a dragon lays an abundance of magical power. That is why we of the Briar Valley royal family adorn our horns, as it is a symbol of our great strength.

Home Tap 5: Don't touch me so carelessly. I may not be able to fully control my power while in this state.

Home Tap - Groovy: You still call out to me in spite of everything that happened... I wonder how many humans could say they are not terrified of even simply seeing me in this form.

Duo: [MALLEUS]: Allow me to be your opponent. [IDIA]: Heehee, time to unleash the secret weapon.

Requested by Anonymous.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Shadows Beneath the Light [B. R.]

Bob Reynolds x Sorcerer!reader

wc: 5k

Summary: Valentina contacts you to conduct a complete team assessment regarding the mystical arts. But when Bob's turn comes, it turns out he needs more of your help.

masterlist part 2

warnings: mentions of mental illness, Val is a bitch, mentions of suicide, complicated childhoods, canon-typical violence, and The Void

After the final battle against Thanos three years ago, you had returned to anonymity. Like many other magic users, your participation was decisive but silent, deploying containment seals, opening portals, and shielding minds during the catastrophe. You were there when Strange momentarily fell. You were the one who stabilized the field during the most critical seconds. But no one outside the inner circle remembered your name.

Or so you thought, because two months ago, Valentina Allegra de Fontaine had knocked on your door bringing something that, more than a request, was a date with a time limit.

Some of the most powerful assets on the new team she was leading—you'd heard about them on the news, a ragtag group of broken soldiers and conflicted metahumans the government didn't know where to put—had begun to show signs of magical dissonance. Fragments of darkness that shouldn't exist, symbols they didn't remember writing, dreams that weren't theirs.

One person in particular worried everyone: Bob Reynolds.

You knew him only by name. Sentry. As powerful as the sun, immense strength, mental stability… debatable. An entity of light with a counterpart of absolute darkness: The Void. You knew just enough to accept the assignment with reservations.

Your job was to assess it and determine if there was any active magical intrusion in it or if the presence of The Void was stronger than they admitted. And if so... intervene.

So there you were now. Temporarily housed in the underground facility the team had been moved to, with a list of subjects to review, and restricted—but sufficient—access to do your job. You'd already examined Walker, Yelena, and Ghost. They had some residual blockages, but nothing that couldn't be resolved. You were surprised that, given the kind of life they led, they weren't worse off.

But when you finally got access to Bob, the protocol changed.

The room he was in was protected with physical shielding and containment charms you had designed yourself, just in case. You watched him for a moment through the one-way mirror, and he seemed simply human: sitting, hunched over, his face in his hands. Nothing about him screamed “cosmic entity.” Nothing, except what couldn’t be seen.

You noticed the air trembling around him, not from heat, but from energetic density. The aura surrounding the man wasn't magical, but it permeated you as if it were. His vibe was definitely heavier than that of his previous colleagues, and you understood why the CIA director was so keen for you to do something about it.

You didn't blame her, to be honest, because the world no longer relied on a group of scientists who could handle these kinds of situations, so magic seemed like a more sensible alternative right now. Fighting fire with fire... or something like that.

As you entered the room, the metal door slammed shut behind you. Bob raised his head, his blue eyes fixed on you with a mixture of bewilderment and curiosity. He looked... tired. Not physically, but emotionally drained, as if he hadn't slept properly in years. Even so, he straightened politely with a neutral expression, like someone accustomed to being watched without fully understanding why.

“Are you the one who’s going to… evaluate me?” he asked, his voice low but firm.

“I am,” you replied in the same tone, telling him your name next.

There was a table between the two of you, which made the place look like some kind of laboratory or a prelude to prison. He kept staring at you, somewhat confused.

“Are you a doctor?”

“It’s a different kind of evaluation,” you exclaimed, without offering any further explanation for the moment. He didn’t need to know everything. Not yet. “Just sit still, okay?”

He nodded obediently, and then you slipped your hand inside your cloak, pulling out a locket that you began to turn between your fingers. The movement activated a faint projection, almost invisible to the mundane eye: a network of golden lines unfolded around it, scanning its auric field. Your thumb brushed over a small sigil in the center of the locket, and a slight hum resonated as it detected dissonances.

You walked around him in silence. With each step, you traced runes with your fingertips, which flickered in the air before dissolving. It wasn't invasive magic, it was an ethereal diagnosis. But when you finally closed the circle behind his back, you felt it. A crack.

It wasn't an artifact, nor a curse. It was something ancient, something breathing within the folds of the soul of the man in front of you. As if something were stirring just beneath his skin, waiting to be acknowledged.

“You’re going to feel some pressure,” you warned gently, placing your fingers on his temples. He didn’t protest.

The technique was simple: channeled meditation through physical contact, an anchoring method the monks at Kamar-Taj used to detect hidden currents in the mind. But you weren't prepared for what you saw.

In a second, his consciousness opened like an abyss. You were standing in the middle of a devastated field, the sky crimson, the clouds shredded by black tongues that snaked out like rotten roots. And at the center of it all, a figure of smoke and shadow... looking back at you.

«Who are you?»

The voice was thick, raspy, and came from all sides. It was terrifying.

«What are you?»

«The Void,» he murmured simply.

«Are you a guest in this body? Do you serve some dark master or sorcerer?»

«Don't be stupid. I'm that thing everyone has inside... that thing they can't escape.»

An invisible weight pressed against your chest: it was hostile, painful. And suddenly the air froze. Not literally, but it felt like the world had stopped moving. A low, persistent buzzing settled in your ear. And then, everything was gone.

Now you were home. In the old apartment with walls cracked by moisture, where the floral wallpaper hung half-open and the light filtered in, as if the sun no longer wanted to shine.

“Mom?” you called. But it wasn’t your voice speaking, but someone younger, beside you.

The hallway smelled of stale lavender and burnt electricity. You remembered it. Every inch. Every crack in the floor. The way the air tasted was like something that didn't belong in the world.

“Mom, are you there?” you asked again. Your younger self sounded scared.

The sound of running water came from the kitchen. Your feet moved on their own. You knew what you were going to see, but you couldn't stop it. Void wouldn't let you. There she was.

She sat on the floor, eyes wide open, speaking to the griffin as if it were an ancient god. Her hands were covered in ink, or blood, or both. On the wall, clumsily scrawled, the same symbol over and over: an eye with a thousand eyelashes, weeping fire.

“I told you you weren’t real,” he whispered, not looking at you. “No one who loves me is born real.”

You froze. Your little self took a step back.

But the woman continued speaking, more quietly, like a twisted prayer:

“I dreamed of you before you existed. You were just a mistake I couldn’t erase.”

“Mommy…”

“If I close my eyes, you disappear. Do you want to see it?”

You wanted to run, stop her, hug her. But it all happened again.

The balcony door opened, with the exact creak of its rusty hinges. Then came the crushing silence. And then, the fall; the thud you never heard, but could still feel in your chest.

The Void appeared. Not in physical form. Not as a monster. Just a voice. A whisper like a blade:

«You remember everything, right? Every detail before your mommy left forever... »

You screamed. Not from pain, but from fury. From fear. From rage because he had no right to show it to you. Because you didn't know if he'd stolen it from you... or if it had always been there, waiting.

When the spell—the illusion, the psychic assault, whatever it was—ended, you returned to the living room, panting, your hands still on Bob's face. He was frowning, as if he'd felt the pull too, though he didn't fully understand it.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his guilt aching in your heart. He didn’t seem to be afraid for himself. He was afraid for you.

You took a step back, trying to regulate your breathing as you processed the shock of the sight. You looked up at the mirror, which reflected your image, wondering if anyone was on the other side watching the scene.

You were pale, as if you were about to throw up, and the man looked no better than you.

“You have something… very wrong inside you.”

Your whisper made him look down, embarrassed. He thought you were there to draw blood, perform some tests, or assess his physical condition. He didn't expect you to intrude on his mind like that.

“You can… Can you control it?”

“Sometimes. But there are other times when it controls me. And then I don't remember anything, and it's so… it's all so confusing.”

Several seconds passed in silence, the buzzing of the locket still vibrating on your wrist as if it were a residue of what you'd seen. When you left the room, still shaking, you said nothing; you didn't have to. The report was complete, you'd seen enough.

Later, in one of the complex's makeshift offices, you met with Valentina. You spoke in great detail about each team member's situation, going on at length when it was Bob's turn. Of course, you omitted details related to your vision. She listened more attentively than you would have expected. When you finished, she remained silent for a few seconds, as if digesting more than just information.

“Yeah, I understand all of this and I appreciate the work you did, but I need to ask you something.”

“Yes, what's wrong?”

“In this boy's case… Robert. What you're talking about inside him, that emptiness, that jumble of trauma and darkness… can it be fixed?”

You frowned, confused.

"What do you mean?"

“That's what unbalances him. That's what makes him dangerous. Can't it be extracted, sealed, purified…? With magic, spells, or whatever you use.”

You highly doubted she understood how the mystic arts worked, but you let it go. Instead, you tried to focus on how you could explain it to her.

“The emptiness inside Bob… isn't a curse that can be broken, or a creature that can be exorcised. It's not an external demon that can be sealed away with an incantation and that's it. It's part of him. As is his strength and his light. The problem is that his darkness isn't integrated; it's fragmented. Repressed. And when something that powerful is denied or hidden for so long, it finds its own way out.”

You paused to see if she was still with you. Valentina didn't say anything, but nodded expectantly.

“The mystical arts don't work like surgery. We don't extract. We accompany. We guide. We teach how to see what others prefer to ignore. There's a principle we learn from day one at Kamar-Taj: 'What you deny, subdues you. What you accept, transforms you.' Bob needs to learn to look at his shadow without being destroyed. To live with it without being consumed by it. It's slow, arduous, and not always linear work. There will be setbacks. But it's possible.”

Valentina crossed her arms, thoughtful.

"And can you do that with him? Help him through that process?"

You leaned forward, making sure your tone was firm.

“I can teach him techniques of emotional containment, breathing, mantras, symbolic anchoring. I can guide him through deep meditations that allow him to visualize and reconfigure your relationship with The Void. But I can't do it for him; it's a process he has to start on his own.”

“Okay, then start that training or whatever, as soon as possible.”

You blinked, puzzled.

“I don’t understand. You hired me to do a team assessment. To identify potential risks.”

“And you found one,” she replied bluntly, leaning in as if about to reveal an intimate confession. “Listen, this group is an experiment. A rehearsal. And if something goes wrong, it could cost me more than I’m already risking. So yes, I hired you to do an assessment, but also because I need solutions. Not just to identify problems, but to fix them. And Bob… well, he’s got tremendous potential. But he’s also very insane, do you follow me?”

You didn't say anything, you just watched her.

“What I want is simple: for you to help me rebuild him. To mold him so he can use his power without breaking. For it to learn self-regulation. For Sentry to appear when we need him, not when he collapses. I don’t want to throw away the entire project just because he has… this small flaw in his internal programming. Do you see what I mean?”

The coldness with which she spoke made your skin crawl. You'd met many dangerous people in your life, but few with that mix of pragmatism and disdain for humanity. Valentina wasn't interested in helping Bob. She didn't want to cure him, or understand him. She just wanted to harness his power. Use him… until he was of no use.

You cleared your throat before answering:

“I could do it, yes. But I don't know how long it will take.”

“You’re the only viable option I have right now, so I’m in no position to demand miracles, honey. Just results. I want you installed at The Watchtower so you can start working with Robert.”

You narrowed your eyes, gauging his tone.

“Is this an offer or an order?”

“I’m hiring you,” she murmured, almost condescendingly. “I don’t suppose you want to go back to that horrible apartment in the Bronx, do you? Why not put your talents to work on something that will really make a difference?”

You stayed silent for a second longer than necessary. Because you knew exactly what she meant by making a difference. And it wasn't saving Bob. It was using him. Taming him. Making him obey.

And if you didn't intervene... she'd probably succeed.

You pressed your lips together for a moment. Not out of fear. Not out of submission. But because something inside you—something older than your training, deeper than your vows at Kamar -Taj—stirred at the thought of leaving Bob alone with that darkness.

“Fine,” you said at last, in a low but firm voice.

Valentina smiled, satisfied, as if she had won a chess game that only she was playing.

“I knew you’d see the value in this,” she muttered, giving you an unnecessary pat on the arm before turning to leave.

You didn't say anything else. You watched her walk away, elegant and dangerous like an expensive poison. Then you lowered your gaze and let out the breath you'd been holding throughout the exchange.

She was wrong; you hadn't agreed for any trivial reason like the one she was suggesting. You did it because there was something in Bob you recognized.

That silent struggle, that shadow that threatened to swallow him up from within, was not foreign to you. And you thought that if someone had ever stopped to teach you how to look at your darkness without fear... perhaps you, too, would have taken less time to learn to live with it.

So, months passed. And it wasn't easy.

There were good days, when Bob could concentrate for more than an hour at a time, when his thoughts didn't fragment, when you could see him laugh—a little forced at first, more natural with time.

And there were bad days. Days when he woke up drenched in sweat, apologizing for things he couldn't remember doing. Days when The Void whispered in your dreams, looking for cracks to enter.

But despite everything, you began to find a rhythm.

At first, he didn't talk much. His words were few, but his ability to absorb knowledge was astonishingly quick. You, for your part, didn't dwell on long explanations or useless words either; you knew exactly what kind of discipline he needed to channel the chaotic energy that consumed him from within. You were neither his therapist nor his jailer, but rather that steady, silent buoy he could cling to when the internal waters threatened to drown him.

As the months passed, the closeness became inevitable. It wasn't a surprise that, amidst rigor and patience, a genuine friendship developed. You lived apart from most of the tower's tenants, and your interactions with them were sporadic and superficial. You spent most of your time studying, learning more, and finding new ways to help him find a balance that seemed elusive. Bob had become your most cherished project, that silent goal that kept you up until the wee hours, hoping he would achieve such a firm grasp that he would one day be worthy of occupying one of the sanctuaries.

That morning, the training room was empty except for the two of you. It was a routine you had established with discipline: getting up early, before dawn, to meditate and prepare your mind before leading him through his training.

“Being at peace with yourself is the key to learning,” you had once told him, with the gentleness of someone offering vital advice.

At the time, he'd found it absurd. Now, it was an essential part of his daily life.

You had carefully prepared the space: the floor covered with thin, noise-dampening mats, the walls reinforced with invisible layers of arcane protection that you had delicately and precisely inscribed yourself. In one corner, a small burner let the lingering scent of incense flow, a symbolic gesture that helped Bob achieve that meditative state, even though he swore he only liked the smell.

Bob sat in the center of the room, legs crossed, torso erect, palms open, exposed like tiny antennas capturing energy. He breathed slowly, following the rhythm you set with the soft jingle of an antique locket around your neck.

“Inhale… hold… exhale”

You sat across from him, replicating the same position. You watched him silently, noticing how that roaring mass of energy that once seemed to devour him was now contained just below the surface. Vibrant, yes. Threatening, perhaps. But controlled, enough for him to manipulate it and, above all, not let himself be consumed by it.

“Do you feel the flow?” you asked.

Bob nodded slowly with his eyes closed.

“Yes. I always… feel like he’s watching me. But now he’s not screaming anymore.”

You smiled slightly, with that mixture of relief and pride you felt when seeing his progress.

“That means he’s listening. You’re in control.”

He opened his eyes and looked at you with a mixture of doubt and hope.

“Do you think I could ever live without it? Without him.”

The question was profound, and you were slow to answer because the truth was complex. However, you chose honesty.

“I don’t think so. But you can live with it. Without fearing it, without letting it speak for you. Just like now.”

Bob looked down thoughtfully.

“It's different here than anywhere else. Here I'm calm, at peace… with you. If something bad happens, you guide me. But I don't know if I'll be able to stay that way in a critical situation or the face of a real threat.”

“That’s something you learn over time,” you assured him. “Look at yourself when we started and look at yourself now. Are you still where you are?”

He firmly denied it.

“You’ll get it. I promise.”

“How long have you been training to have the mastery you have now?”

Bob had begun digging into your private life a few weeks ago. It wasn't that you minded, but it was unexpected to have to talk about yourself with him. You were supposed to maintain the composure of a mentor, helping him reach his potential without getting emotional.

“Nine years”

His face lit up with amazement.

“It’s a long time.”

"Yes, but I'm dedicated to the mystical arts. With you, we're just seeking balance."

That seemed to comfort him a little. You could tell from the small smile he gave you.

“And you face demons and things like that? Monsters?”

“Sometimes,” you laughed, “Other times they are aliens, beings from other universes, dark wizards… it depends on the teacher who needs my help.”

“That’s so cool, ” he confessed with admiration.

Your cheeks flushed slightly, as his interest seemed almost endearing. You, too, had felt that fascination at first, but over time, you'd grown accustomed to it and were no longer surprised by it.

“Yours isn't bad either. Sentry, the being with the strength of a thousand burning suns...”

“Oh, but it’s no use if I don’t know how to control it,” he replied “It’s wasted power.”

“Where there is light, by law there must be darkness, Bob. We can't live any other way. The universe is meant to contain this duality in every particle that makes it up. You just have to know when to turn to one or the other.”

He nodded, processing your words seriously.

"How do you become so wise? Like you."

“I’m not wise, at least not in the way you think,” you said with a faint smile. “In fact, I’m extremely stupid. But that’s why I’m here. The key is to make mistakes and learn from them, to grow every day.”

“I hope my mistakes don’t cost anyone their life,” he murmured sincerely.

A heavy silence settled between you. Your mistakes had cost lives. They almost cost you yours.

“I hope so too. Otherwise, it would reflect poorly on me as a mentor.”

He didn't take it the wrong way, but instead used it as an opportunity to ease the tension with a little joke. You got up to get a Chinese teapot while he sighed, anticipating what was coming.

“Are we going to work with tea?” he asked timidly.

You nodded with a smile.

“How did you feel last time?”

“Scared and tired. My head hurt.”

“More or less than before?”

“Less. It was a little less.”

“You'll get used to it, it'll get lighter and lighter. Drink.”

The blend was a little lighter, with a deep, earthy aroma, hints of sage and star anise. Bob took the small cup you offered him and drank it in one gulp, despite the temperature.

The silence that followed was different: more attentive, denser. You had begun working with sacred infusions you learned at Kamar-Taj, prepared with ingredients that encouraged introspection. They were called "soft doors" because they didn't force violent visions or provoke chaotic hallucinations, but rather opened memories in layers, as if one were gently sliding into them.

You sat down in front of him and closed your eyes, feeling the energy of the place synchronize with his breathing.

“Don’t hold on if it gets dark,” you whispered. “Just watch. I’m here with you.”

He nodded, calmer, and closed his eyes.

The infusion began to take effect with the slowness of a tide rising without warning. Bob's shoulders relaxed, but his face became tense, as if something was tugging at him from within. His lips parted slightly.

“I’m… there again. In the white room.”

Keeping your eyes closed, palms open on your thighs, you focused on his words.

"Is it the same one as before? The one with the door without a handle?"

“Yes. But it’s ajar now… I don’t know if I want to look.”

“You don’t have to cross it. Just approach it.”

Bob nodded slightly, his breathing becoming uneven, but he didn't back down.

“There’s a shadow… its back is turned. It’s waiting for me.”

“It’s not real,” you whispered. “It’s a reflection of something that was. It can’t touch you here.”

“But it’s me.”

You had learned that most of his visions related to himself, his greatest regrets manifested in spectral form. His hands clenched on his knees, and sweat began to dampen his forehead. You didn't move, you remained stationary.

“What are you doing?”

“It's just there. But I feel like if it turns around… if I look at him… it'll all come back.”

The pressure in the air grew palpable, as if the shadow were taking control of the place. You took a deep breath and spoke to him in a low, firm voice:

“Then don’t look at him. Look around. What’s in that room besides him?”

It took Bob a few seconds to respond.

“Broken glass. It floats, as if something had exploded. But there’s no sound.”

“Can you touch them?”

He reached out a trembling hand, as if he really saw them.

“Yes. One stuck to my skin.”

“What does it show you?”

Bob shuddered, a low moan escaping his throat.

“My mother is crying in a chair. I'm hiding. She calls me… but I don't go.”

“It’s just a memory,” you said softly. “You can’t change it, but you can be present now. You’re not that child anymore.”

Bob swallowed.

“I don’t want her to cry for me again.”

“What comes next?”

The room began to oscillate as if it were liquid. Bob blinked several times, his breathing quickened, but he didn't come out of the trance.

“Can you leave the room?”

“There’s another door at the back. It’s bright, it has no shadow.”

“Do you want to go there?”

Silence. He hesitated.

“I don’t want to. Not yet.”

"Alright."

You let him breathe deeply for a while, until his chest calmed. You closed the energy circle with a subtle gesture, and his pupils stopped trembling.

“I’m back,” he said hoarsely and opened his eyes.

His fingers were damp with sweat, but he wasn't hugging his body like before. He didn't seem to be running away from himself.

"How do you feel?"

"Confused"

You watched him calmly.

“You did well, Bob. Very well.”

The silence returned, thick and heavy, perhaps reflecting on what he'd seen. Your sessions always left him mentally exhausted, but after a few hours of rest, the benefit outweighed the sacrifice.

Suddenly, he lay back on the linoleum, stretching his limbs and letting out a long, heavy sigh.

“What are you doing?” you asked, laughing.

“Come, lie down next to me.”

You hesitated for a moment, but finally settled down next to him.

“I've always liked lying on the floor since I was a kid. I did it when I needed to calm down.”

His voice was a whisper, barely a murmur.

“It’s hard growing up in a home that never feels like one, isn’t it?”

Bob nodded silently and then turned slightly to look at you.

“Can I ask you something?”

You hummed an affirmative response.

“It’s about the vision you had the first time we met, remember? Is it real?”

“Do you want to know if it happened?”

He nodded.

“Yes, it happened.”

You didn't want to elaborate, and he didn't press the issue. You suddenly felt exposed. Witnessing your mother's suicide wasn't a story you were keen to tell. But with Bob, the line between teacher and student blurred more than either of you wanted to admit.

You stared at the ceiling, wishing the silence would envelop them calmly.

Thus, in that cold room, where magic and pain converged, a bond began to form that would be much stronger than any shadow.

A few minutes passed without either of them saying a word, just the subtle sound of the wind blowing through the cracks in the window. The morning light filtered through in faint beams, creating irregular patches on the floor where they both lay.

“Sometimes,” you began quietly, as if sharing a secret, “I think our wounds are the source of our strength. Not because we desire them, but because they force us to find ourselves.”

Bob turned his head to look at you, and although his eyes still reflected the internal battle he was waging, there was a new spark in them: a flame that withstood the storm.

“It’s not always easy to see the light during chaos,” he replied, almost in a whisper. “But with you… I feel like I can try.”

You felt touched by his confession, by the vulnerability he displayed without fear.

Silence fell again, but this time it was a silence filled with meaning, as if it were the invisible bridge connecting you. You stood up slowly, helping him do the same. The years of training and suffering Bob had endured hadn't broken him; on the contrary, they seemed to mold him into something greater.

“Let’s get ready for today’s session,” you said, letting the warmth fall into your voice.

You began to prepare the place, calmly, being observed by him at all times.

“Do you think I can ever not be afraid?”

“Fear never goes away. You'll learn to live with it, to recognize it, and not let it paralyze you. And then you'll find your balance.”

“And when I can find that balance, if I ever do…” he began, his voice low, “Will I never see you again?”

You stopped to observe him.

“That's up to you. Spiritually, you won't need me. If it's about hanging out with a friend, then I'm always available.”

The word friend felt sweet on your lips. Bob was more pleased than he would have liked to hear your response.

“I like the sound of that.”

A faint glimmer of confidence lit his face. That moment felt like a small victory in the long battle you had both shared.

For a moment, everything seemed to stand still: the air, time, the invisible wounds that marked you. In that shared silence, you knew that, no matter what the future held, you had something unbreakable—a deep connection, a refuge amidst the chaos.

As you sat up, a slight change in the air caught your attention. A barely perceptible murmur, like a distant sigh or the rustle of a page turning, filled the room. It was a faint, almost imperceptible signal that made your senses tense slightly.

It wasn't time yet, but you knew it would soon arrive: a call you couldn't ignore, a shadow on the horizon... a door you'd soon have to open.

For now, the present was sufficient. Bob was here, with you, and that was enough.

tag list (thanks, pretty!): @littlemsbumblebee

[sayruq]

In February, Adham, a 20-year-old Palestinian, was visiting his family’s home in the West Bank. One night while scrolling through Grindr, the gay messaging app, he received a message from an anonymous user “hey,” the user wrote, before “tapping,” the platform’s function for expressing interest. The user, like Adham’s, had a blank profile that included only minimal information about his interests and whereabouts, specifying only where he lived. (Drop Site News has changed his name to protect him from retaliation.) They hit it off and were chatting for a few hours before Adham shared that he was a university student in the West Bank. That prompted the user to share his thoughts on several professors at the university who had recently drawn attention for voicing pro-Palestine views. “He wanted me to be disgusted by them,” Adham told Drop Site. “Why are you trying to convince me that this doctor is a bad person just because he's against the occupation? It feels weird at first. Just bizarre.” Adham chalked it up to a difference of opinion and the two continued to chat. Eventually Adham sent the user his number so they could message on WhatsApp. Once the conversation moved off-platform, the user revealed his identity to Adham. “That’s when he said he worked with Israeli intelligence,” he said. Using Adham’s number, the user had identified him and began sending him messages with the names and photos of his family members he had found on their Facebook profiles. Adham hadn’t even shared his name with the user, much less anything that could point him to his family members—he’s not out to his family. “I started crying and I didn't know what to do,” Adham said. Adham blocked the profile on Grindr, but soon began receiving SMS messages repeating the same threats. “It was a whole night from 12 to the sunrise,” Adham said. “He kept threatening me, saying he will expose me.” The user told Adham he sought intelligence on Adham’s cousins who, at the time, were in an Israeli prison, awaiting trial on suspicion of their involvement with the al-Qassam brigades, Hamas’s military wing. “He told me that I should go to their homes, search and question their parents and get as much information about them as possible,” Adham recalled. “He said that you can't run away from us. We, you know where you live,” Adham said. “So I just get the SMS card, I throw it, I turned off my phone.” In the morning, he checked his mother’s phone continuously to make sure she hadn’t received any messages. One of his friends had his Grindr chats and images sent to his friends and family after receiving similarly threatening messages from a user who claimed to be an Israeli intelligence official. Drop Site could not verify the messages to Adham came from an intelligence official. But a former official with Unit 8200, Israel’s signals-intelligence agency, confirmed the involvement of Shin Bet, Israel’s internal security agency. The Israel Defense Forces declined to comment.

[alienseasfanfics]

Friction - Part 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!traumatized!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | AO3

Summary: When you're targeted by a violent stalker, Sam Wilson hires Bucky Barnes to guard you in an isolated safe house. This causes tension as you both get on each others nerves in an increasingly dangerous situation. But, you slowly come to realize you're more alike than you thought. Will it be too late when you finally let yourself trust him?

Word Count (for Part 1): 2.3k

Tags: Slowburn, reluctant attraction, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, bodyguard, hired to protect, fluff and angst, nightmares and comfort, eventual smut, reluctant attraction.

T/W: Some non-graphic depictions of violence, guns, eventual smut.

A/N: Hello. This will be just a few parts. I'm envisioning 5. Who knows though. Will be posted on my AO3 as well (linked here). Also, feel free to send short one-shot requests. I may not answer them all but if one inspires me, I'll write. Enjoy!

“If you keep staring at me, I’m going to sprint down the hill into oncoming traffic.”

“There is no oncoming traffic.”

“I’ll keep running until I find some.”

“Good luck.”

“Shut up.” You mutter, taking another swig of your coffee. Bucky Dumbass Barnes leans against the porch railing, watching you. You flip him off and he rolls his eyes, looking instead at the dirt road ahead.

The day is calm and cicadas are buzzing loudly. You draw your knees up to your chest as you watch the wind play with the grass, making it flatten and swirl into ever-changing circles.

It’s so incredibly boring out here, away from the city. There’s no coffee shops, or long walks down busy streets, or movie theatres. The lack of movie theatres hurts the most.

All you want to do is sit with people, too many people, anonymously sharing a laugh or a cry in a dark room. Free people don’t appreciate the amount of community that is shared within the walls of a theatre. The insight gleaned from hearing their murmurs to their friends about the attractiveness of the actors or the stupidity of the dialogue. You miss connecting with them and feeling, finally, like one of them. Anonymously. With the ability to leave afterwards, free to go about your business.

But now, all you do is watch the grass as Bucky watches you. Solely because of one stupid person with an obsession.

You chug the rest of your coffee and get up, limping past Bucky and letting the screen door slam behind you. He huffs, but you couldn’t care less.

The safe house has a rudimentary kitchen. Though, fancier than your own due to the coffee machine Sam brought as an apology for forcing you here. As you start another cup of coffee, you tap the counter with a finger. Sam said this would only be for a month. Just until they found out how He was tracking you. Then you could go back to your blissful anonymity in New York.

That is, if they could even find who He is.

That’s the flip side of the coin. You can disappear, until someone wants to find you. Then, it’s all that much easier for them to never appear to you at all, except when they want to.

The little voice in the back of your head whispers his name to you, but you close your eyes and silence it. He’s gone. He must be.

The coffee drips from the machine. It’s been overworked the past two weeks, both from you trying to cling on to whatever sense of normalcy you’ve cultivated outside of this house, and from Bucky trying to stay awake.

How long did Bucky say he was going to stay here for? Couldn’t have been more than a month. He’s always been sick of you within the hour in past missions. It’s a miracle he’s still around two weeks in. Once he’s decided he’s done, you can go back. Or when whatever Sam bribed him with is gone. And then, who else does Sam trust enough to know where the safe house is? He barely let you know. You’ll be going back in no time.

Sure, there’s a homicidal maniac after you, leaving traps that have caught you twice already and broken your leg both times, but now that you know his M.O. you can catch him. You’ve handled yourself before, who’s to say you can’t again?

The coffee machine beeps, and you take a sip from the cup. Your bad leg twinges, angry at supporting you for this long, and you grit your teeth. Your own body doesn’t believe in you. That’s a tough pill to swallow.

The screen door slams again as Bucky comes inside.

“There’s no more coffee.” You mutter, and he reaches into the cupboard by the door and pulls out a bag. Opening it, he comes over to the machine to refill, and you move gingerly out of the way. He doesn’t notice, or care, and continues.

“This is the last bag, though. We’ll have to go into town to get more.” He says to the coffee machine.

“I don’t think it’ll answer you.” You say.

“You don’t want me looking at you. I’m happy to grant that request.”

“I don’t want you watching me. That’s very different.”

“You’ll have to get used to me doing that.”

“Not for much longer.”

“Thank god. You’re the most irritating woman I’ve ever met. I don’t know who’s stalking you, but it must be the only person in the world who could put up with your bullshit.”

“At least someone can put up with mine. I don’t think anyone can handle this long with you.”

“I’m okay with not having a psycho leaving bombs on my doorstep.”

“My balcony. He left them on my balcony.”

“Touchey. Or however the fuck you say it.”

“Touché.”

He rolls his eyes, not answering you and instead methodically glancing over the sparse living room. After two weeks you know what he looks at. The boarded up back door, the windows with trip-wires stretched across the sills, the cameras blinking red and pointed at every egress point. If he wasn’t such an ass, you’d be impressed by the level of care he’s putting into his job. You know it’s just about the money, though. Money that’s quickly running out.

“How much did Sam pay for?”

“Coffee? Two months supply. You’ve been drinking it like the damned Energizer bunny, though.”

“No, your money. For your ‘services’, or whatever you call the peeping tom bullshit.”

He closes his eyes and sets his jaw. His neck muscle flexes beneath his collar. You’d think it was attractive if it wasn’t his jaw.

“That was one time. I knocked, and you didn’t answer. I told you to always answer. I didn’t ‘peep’ at anything, anyway.” He finally says after a minute of counting.

“You’re not my keeper.”

“For the next two weeks, I am. And then it some other poor idiots job to watch you.”

That makes you freeze, putting your coffee down.

“What?” You say, and he glances over at you.

“What, you want me to stay now?”

“No! What do you mean someone else will be watching me?”

“Well, if Sam and them don’t find Him, you’ll still need to stay here.” He’s talking slowly, as if talking to a particularly dumb child.

“That wasn’t the agreement. Sam said a month.”

“You’ll have to take that up with Sam. Besides, you want to go back there? Back to your apartment, that He knows about? Hell, He knows the security camera blindspots. And you want to waltz back in like everything is fine?” Now, he’s looking at you. You really hate it when he does that. He seems to always be studying you, picking you apart with his ice-cold eyes. It makes your heart jump into your throat.

You break the eye contact by looking into your coffee.

“I just want to go home.” You finally say into its dregs. You swallow the rest of it, putting it on the counter harder than you meant to. “I’m taking a shower. Try not to come in, weirdo.”

“Easy enough.” He mutters as you walk up the stairs.

- - -

That night, you’re running.

You don’t need to look behind you to know He’s there. You’re barefoot again, running on the rough cement of the lab, scraping your bare skin against the walls as you round the corners of the never-ending basement prison. The burn from your wounds is nothing to the one in your head. It’s making your vision blurry and your eyes red-hot, and you know he’s closing in on you.

Sprinting now, the lights behind you close one by one with an electric thud, like a giants footsteps getting closer to stomping on you by the second.

Thud. You’re blinking back fire. Thud. Your heart is giving out.

Thud. You can feel his breath on the back of your neck, sending chills down your spine as he finally-

Crash. You startle awake, a scream still ripping through your throat. You grab the closest thing to you -another coffee cup- and throw it towards the door that just smashed open. It narrowly misses a barely clothed Bucky as he ducks backward.

“Fuck!” He shouts, “Don’t surprise the guy with a gun! Gun safety 101!”

You notice now that he is holding one, its metal nose glinting off the moonlight coming through the bent blinds. His steel fingers share the same gleam.

“Don’t break into a sleeping woman’s room!” Is the only thing you can manage to yell back, turning away from him to wipe hot tears from your face quickly.

“I think the fact you were screaming loud enough to wake the dead is reason enough to come in here! I told you to not lock this door, by the way, so the whole breaking and entering thing is your fault.” He barks.

“Shut up, Bucky.” You whisper.

“Is someone in here? Why were you screaming?” The floor creaks under him as he steps into the room, looking around the corners.

“No one is in here, just go back to bed.” You’re gripping the mattress now, trying to calm down. He’s not making it any easier as he stops to stand behind you. There’s a soft ting of a bullet hitting the ground as he uncocks the gun, but he doesn’t leave.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Yes I did.”

“There were two questions.”

“I’m glad you know how to count.” You need to breathe. 1, 2, 3- shit. 1, 2- shit! Do you know how to count?

He’s quiet for a moment, and you almost think he’s left until he speaks again.

“Why do you insist on being so difficult?”

“Because I need to be.” You say breathlessly. Running a hand through your hair you stand up shakily, moving around the bed and going to the door. He’s standing in front of the doorway, not moving. In the dim light of the moon, the only part of him not shrouded in shadow is his metal arm. You try to avoid looking at it, knowing somewhere deep down that he hides it from you for a reason, with long sleeves even in the harshest sunlight. But the only other place to look is his chest or his face, which makes your cheeks feel hot even now. You settle on looking down at the bullet on the ground between you both.

“I need some water.” You murmur after a moment of him staring down at you.

“You need to answer me.”

“Please, Bucky.” You plead. Your defences fall for just a moment, but your lungs are starting to collapse. The world is starting to swim, and you’re not sure if its panic, tears, or the pain in your leg screaming at you to sit back down. Whichever one, you really don’t want Bucky to see it.

“Go back in bed. I’ll get it for you.” His voice is calm now. Quieter. Exhausted, the only answer you can manage is a nod, doing as you’re told and laying back down. You stare at the crack in the blinds and try to blink away tears as you listen to him rummaging in the kitchen.

He comes back too soon. He sets the glass on the nightstand behind you, but you don’t hear him leave. Sighing, you turn around, and finally look at him in the face.

His eyebrows are knit together, and as he looks at you, you can feel him studying you again. This time your stomach flutters.

You break eye contact again, sitting up and sipping the water quietly.

“Thank you, Bucky.”

“Sorry for crashing in.”

“Sorry for screaming.”

“Not for the coffee mug?”

“I’ve been wanting to do that.”

You flick your eyes up at him, and you think for a moment you see a smile, but it quickly falls away once he looks in your eyes. You both look at each other for a second, two, three, before its his turn to break contact. He runs his metal hand through his tousled hair, glancing down at his gun, the bed, the window, anywhere but you.

“When I, hmm.” He takes a deep breath. “When I have a bad night, I have to ground myself.”

“Ground yourself? Like a naughty kid?”

“No.” He pinches the skin between his eyes. “My senses. Y’know. Five things I see, three things I hear, one thing I feel. Until I calm down.”

“Oh.”

“Are you still on edge?” He glances down at your free hand gripping the mattress. You loosen it.

“I guess.”

“Do you want me to stay in here?”

“What?”

“Do you want me to stay in here. To...watch over you.” He’s still looking away from you.

“Aren’t you already doing that? Hence the gun?”

He rolls his eyes.

“If you don’t want me to, I’ll just-”

“Yeah. If you can. Stay here, that is.” The permission comes from a part of you that you’ve shoved down. Or thought you shoved down. Now, it’s speaking from the middle of your throat, stealing any breath you have with it.

He finally looks at you again, then slowly nods.

“Okay. I can. Let me grab a blanket.” He walks out of the room, and you’re finally able to breathe again.

Laying back down, you try to ground yourself. You see the armchair across from the foot of your bed, the window, the bent blinds, the broken patch of ceiling above you, the barely touched glass of water on the nightstand. You hear the croon of an owl outside, the orchestra of a grasshopper, the creak of the floorboards as Bucky comes back in. Closing your eyes, you try to focus on sleep.

You feel Bucky’s warm hand brushing against your skin as he pulls your blanket up to cover you, leaving you cold when he moves away.

Your muscles relax as you hear him settle into the armchair. Inexcusably, your brain tells you, he calms you. Happily, your heart slows, letting you fall into a dreamless sleep.

[boypied]

MY ETERNAL SUNSHINE.

pairings: tim laughlin (skippy) x top!male reader

summary: skippy wants to prove that he is your boy and yours only. so he decides that he will give you the greatest sex that you will ever know.

requested by: anonymous / me

word count: 1,863

warnings: smut, passionate love making, fingering, cum facial, dirty talk, choking, slight praising, ass spanking, oral sex (r!receiving), nipple play.

"The president is going to issue an EO... whatever that is." he says in an excitable tone as he takes off his blazer that compliments his figure so well. You sit down on the small but comfy chair opposite him as you watch him in his flustered, frustrated state as you wipe your face slightly. "Executive Order," you say to him as you watch how he throws his blazer to the full sized couch. You put your cigarette down and gently tap your thigh. "Come here," you say in your low ruffly tone, Tim obeys you as usual and sits down on your lap, but doesn't stop his informative rant. "...and they're worried that Eisenhowar is trying to undermind that project." Tim says in a full breath, stopping for a moment to catch it.

Tim leans closer against your body, wrapping one arm around your neck. Your hand immediately darts up and begins undoing his top button, "by taking the lead on an anti communist crusade?" Your voice raises slightly as you ask him this pressing question about his rant, "I think so." Tim mutters out as he turns to face you, completely letting you manhandle him like a doll on his lap. "Senator McCarthy wants to ignore it, but Roy thinks that they -" before he can finish you butt in after the mention of Roy. "Roy?!" You say, trying to hide your jealous tone as your hand slips into his unbuttoned shirt and caressing his body softly. "You on a first name basis?" You say in a soft but domineering tone.

You gently pinch his nipple causing his to sharply groan and smirk slightly as he playfully pushes your shoulder, "Mr Comb thinks it's the smarter move to expose those who are behind the order" he says in a more professional tone. "Which will force Heisenhowar to do the right thing!" Tim says as his professionalism slips away, "Any idea on what the Executive Order is about?" You say wanting to get more information out of him because you're a very noisy man. "No... I'm sorry," Tim says softly to you as you continue caressing his chest. "What are you going to do with this information? ... share it with Senator Smith?" He asks you with a curious look, coating his face.

"Only if I have to." You reply truthfully to him as your eyes travel up from his exposed chest to meet his soft eyes. "I try to protect the Senator from his own worse impulses," you say to him with an honest look on your face as your eyes meet with his as you face each other. You lean up and grip the back of Tim's head, getting closer to him and placing a big kiss against his forehead and pulling away, watching his slightly flustered face. You help him adjust his black framed glasses. "I have to get dressed," you say to him as you begin to shuffle up until Tim gently places his hand on your stomach, pushing you down showing that he doesn't want you to move.

Tim's hand presses against you with more support, pushing you down a bit more while staring at you, "I wanna go to the party" he confesses to you in a tone that says he will be going. "The Cromwells? ... don't get me wrong, he'd cling onto you like a jellyfish-" before you can even finish what you were going to say Tim cuts you off like you did to him not long before "then take me" he says while his tone has some underlying annoyance. I take a deep breath that turns into a sigh, "You're not even dressed for it and you don't have a date." You say honestly to him trying not to crush his wishes to hard, "I'll be with you!" Tim says his tone becoming more excited as his fingers gently play with your earlobe.

Your hand gently caresses his face, and your eyes change slightly into more caring, "this is the real world..skippy," you say to him, bursting his bubble. Skippy leans closer to you, closing the inches between your face, his breath hitting your face as he begins speaking, "I'm your boy.. right?" He asks you in a soft manner. Skippy begins to manoeuvre off your lap, hovering above you slightly as he slowly travels down your body onto his knees on the floor "well well well." You say in a seductive whisper as you watch him get down on his knees. "..and your boy wants to go to the party," Skippy adds in as his eyes never leave yours. "How much does he want to go?" You ask him as both your eyes stare into eachothers hungry orbs.

Skippy leans down, his face in between your legs as he pulls your cock out of the slit at the front of your pants, his eyes widen in shock. Skippy's seen your cock a handful of times before it's even been buried in his ass countless times but it always takes his breath away the moment he sees it for the first time after a while. He nibbles at his lip softly as his eyes dart up from your cock to meet with your perfect eyes looking down at him, he doesn't break the sexual eye fucking as he leans forward and takes your tip in his mouth, Skippy swirls his tongue around your pre-cum coated tip.

"That's a good boy." You groan out in a breathy moan as your hands grip the scruff of hair at the back of his head forcing the rest of your cock down his slick wet throat. He choked slightly, but it doesn't take long for him to get use to the feeling of your cock being buried where it belongs. The sensational feeling of pleasure runs through his body anytime you take control and your dominance drips off of you. Your hands grip either side of Skippy's head, a small smirk forming on his lips as you begin to slowly fuck his throat, bucking your hips up and down. He moans in pleasure, and his eyes ever so slightly flutter back as you begin to speed up.

After a while of Skippy choking, moaning and spluttering all over your cock you pull your cock away from his mouth, hearing him let out a deep breath and also a small "awh" noise as he misses the contact. Skippy gets up and strips off naked, revealing his hairy chest and hot toned body that you love all so much. You stand up and pull down your plaid boxers as your cock springs freely, you gently sway your cock side to side adding some comedy into this deep sexual tension moment. You softly bite your lip as Tim climbs against the chair, his arms going back to open up his juicy asscheeks revealing his soft bubble gum pink hole to you.

You bite your lip, and a huge smirk grows on your face. You have no choice but to dive straight in. You get in the same position he was in as he was sucking your cock, your tongue coming into contact with his hole that is pulsating and begging for attention. Your soft tongue pushes past his muscle ring and into his warm hole, your tongue dips in and out feeling the way his walls clench around your tongue wanting you more and more. You don't eat him out for to long as you can tell how desperate he his for your cock.

You pull away and watch how his small hole clenches around nothing and how it glistens against the light. You smirk as Skippy flips himself round, slouching down against the chair pulling his legs up giving you the perfect opportunity to slide your cock right in and you didn't want to waste that opportunity. You lean your knees either side of his body and down against the pillowy couch chair, you rub your glisteningly wet tip against his hole and slowly but surely pushing yourself inside him.

Skippy's mouth makes an 'O' shape as he takes the entirety of your cock and everything you have to give him. You lean down, your face now inches away from his as you feel his hot breath against your face. Both faces painted with blush as you slowly pull out just to immediately thrust back into his clenched tight hole. He holds his legs open for you, allowing you to freely destroy him. "Good boy!" You groan out in agonising pleasure as his asshole's grip on you is to die for, "I'm your boy, I'm your good boy!" Skippy whimpers out as with each thrust his rock hard cock bounces.

"Y/N!" I gasps out in pleasure as Skippy's hands grip onto your shoulders pulling you closer to him, both your naked bodies pressed against eachother as you thrust into him. You piston fuck him which he loves when you do it, the feeling of his walls closing around you as he nears his release as he jerks himself off faster and faster. You pull away slightly and you wrap your hand around his neck, tighten slightly. As you choke him in a loving manner his walls clench around you until with one final pump of his hand around his own cock he shoots his own load all over his hairy chest.

"DADDY!" Skippy moans out in an agonising amount of pleasure, causing his eyes to roll back and his body to shudder. You fuck him through his entire orgasm. You buck your hips into him a couple more times until you pull out, "I wanna shoot it on your face" you say as you're out of breath. You smirk as Skippy is down on his knees, his own cum dripping off his chest as he smirks up at you. You pump your cock quicker in your hand looking at his face, you begin to feel overstimulated causing you to shoot your load all over Skippy's face.

"F-FUCK!" You groan out in pleasure as you begin to shoot your thick ropes of cum all over his face, painting it white with your semen. You throw your head back as you pump the last shot of cum out onto his face, you drop down to your knees to come eye level with Skippy. Your eyes meet with his once again, as you both chuckle slightly and breath heavily. "My boy" You whisper to him as you wipe some of his cum from his chest and bring it up to your mouth tasting him.

You suck on your thumb, tasting every single essence of him you watch Skippy do the same with the facial you just gave him. "So party time now" Tim says excitedly as he stands up and practically runs off into the bedroom and then into the connected unsuite. You follow along after him not wanting to miss out on shower time together, "Skippy! Wait up!" You shout out to him as you chase after him. You both end up having a make out session in the shower before the party that Skippy was dying to go to with you.

taglist ~ @starboye @mailmango @ghostking4m @kingchaospostsstuff @crispysoup318 @inhumanshadows @its-ares @gayaristocrat @cronasluvr @irlsamcarpenter @lucerothings1 @gaefaeyae @dqrkhold

[alternate-real-ities]

The Asian Flu outbreak is slowly getting out of control! But I'm curious, what happened to the people from the exact Asian country? Let's say... Indonesia or Malaysia?

The Asian Flu outbreak has indeed been spreading globally, but its effects on native Southeast Asian populations like those in Indonesia and Malaysia have shown some variation from the typical cases observed elsewhere. Most men in these regions appear to have a natural immunity or resistance to the more severe cognitive impairments and pronounced physical transformations. However, a subset of the population is still susceptible to the virus's effects.

Take the example of this young Malaysian man. Once a shy and awkward gamer, he found his life forever altered by the Asian Flu. Known only as Bintang to the locals at the bustling market where he works, no one suspects how different he used to be.

Forever a scrawny nerd, Bintang had always blended into the background, just another face in the crowd. He spent most of his days at home, protected by the anonymity of his gaming screen. But things changed when he was exposed to the virus during one of his usual grocery runs.

He didn't notice it at first. The initial symptoms were mild - a slight fever, fatigue, and a strange tingling sensation on his nipples. But as the virus coursed through his system, he started to change. Subtle shifts at first - a new spring in his step, muscles slowly swelling to fill out his slender frame. His scent evolved, growing rich and musky, hinting at the virile male he was becoming. His shy demeanour melted away, replaced by a newfound confidence bordering on cockiness.

He transformed into a completely different person - becoming totally focused on himself and working out at the gym, which he now visited every day, eager to sculpt his body. His IQ didn't change much though, probably because of his already Asian genetic makeup. Now, Bintang works at the local market, lifting heavy boxes and crates all day long. By the end of each shift, he's drenched in sweat, his muscles glistening under the bright lights. The physical labour only fuels his desire to push himself harder at the gym and maintain his physique for the eyes of others.

Bintang's world became all about his body and the attention it brought him. He constantly checks himself out in the mirror, always looking for ways to improve his look. The shy, scrawny gamer was gone, replaced by a confident, muscular fuckboy that loved to be shirtless. No one knew where he'd come from, quickly forgetting that nerd that used to live in the same neighbourhood. He was now the hottest guy at the market, and he knew it. Just another handsome, muscular stud working at the market, unaware of his contribution to spreading the flu.

For another case of the flu, in the heart of Indonesia, there lived a man named Eka who was also affected by the Asian Flu. Prior to the Asian Flu pandemic, Eka was a rather unremarkable Indonesian male - neither exceptionally handsome nor muscular.

However, Eka possessed an exceptional charm - he was incredibly sociable and charismatic, with a quick wit and genuine interest in others. This magnetic personality drew him to frequent social gatherings, cafés, and bars, ultimately exposing him to the virus circulating among the city's population.

The flu ravaged his body, but in doing so, it awakened hidden desires and amplified his most alluring qualities. His skin, now clear, glistened with a constant sheen of sweat, highlighting every contour of his newly sculpted muscles. Eka's muscles grew more defined and powerful, his posture improving to exude an air of masculine confidence. Gone were the days of being just another face in the crowd; now, he demanded attention wherever he went, with a chiselled jawline and a physique that could make even the most stoic men weak at the knees.

But the most noticeable change was between his legs - a thick, 12-inch cock that hung heavily even when flaccid. This impressive endowment, combined with his enhanced stamina and virility, made Eka irresistible on the club scene. His eternal state of arousal was accompanied by a potent, musky scent that subtly enticed others to gravitate towards him.

Post-infection, Eka became the ultimate fantasy for every person who crossed his path. The prominent outline of his impressive manhood straining against tight fabrics only added to his allure. While his personality seems to have become more "bro-ey", he's still the same social butterfly that he was before, only now he thinks a bit more with his dick than he used to. But hey, how's that a bad thing when he's the one having fun.

For a final example, let me tell you about two friends, Alija (left) and Daim (right). Both were regular gym-goers who primarily focused on maintaining a lean physique to complement their active social lives.

It's likely that both Alija and Daim contracted the Asian Flu at their shared gym, given their regular attendance there. Gyms can be breeding grounds for the virus due to the proximity of individuals and the shared equipment, and the concentration of male population. The virus can easily spread through close contact during workouts due to sweat, respiratory droplets or other infected surfaces.

While they both caught the virus, their experiences diverged significantly. Alija, who had a naturally lean physique, remained unchanged after infection. His body did not undergo any of the physical transformations typically associated with the Asian Flu. This could be attributed to his unique genetic makeup or a specific immune response that rendered him immune to the virus's effects.

However, Daim's experience was drastically different. He was one of the few who succumbed to the virus's transformative effects in his area, resulting in a hypermuscular physique that turned him into a chiseled Adonis. The virus seemed to have a profound impact on his body, enhancing his muscle mass and strength to an extraordinary degree. His body became a canvas of sculpted muscles, with every inch of his physique radiating power.

Despite his dramatic physical transformation though, Daim still maintained his friendship with Alija. While he was now a muscular beast commanding attention wherever he went, inside he remained the same humble and loyal friend that Alija had always known. The Asian Flu had not changed his personality; it had merely amplified his physical presence. His body grew in such a short amount of time that people started wondering if he was taking PEDs.

So yeah, while the Asian Flu has had a significant impact on the population, the effects have varied widely among individuals. Some have experienced remarkable transformations, while most have remained largely unchanged. One thing that seems common in affected Asian individuals is there seems to be less IQ loss than in other populations.

This may explain why the flu hasn't been deemed a pandemic in Asia, as the majority of the population is still able to function normally despite the physical improvements. Some people even claim that the flu has made them smarter, but that's probably just a side effect of the increased confidence and self-esteem that comes with being more muscular and attractive.

As always, try to stay safe and healthy, and remember to wash your hands frequently. You may think the flu is just a joke, but it can have serious consequences. If you feel sick, please contact our assistance hotline for help. We are here to support you and provide the necessary resources to ensure your well-being.

[luvinescent]

Entangled Fates

Pairing: Robb Stark x fem!Targaryen!Reader

Summary: The Targaryen name has brought nothing but misery to Y/N— her half-blood placing a curse upon her. She's observed the toll her presence takes on the people she loves; no longer wanting to form a close tie with anyone. Nevertheless, her heart steered its own course. And it steered towards a certain man.

Warnings: angst. allusion to r*pe and death, nothing descriptive. a steamy make-out scene but nothing crazy. not really book or show accurate but f it we ball. also fluff. also reader has dark hair so just pretend u do if u don't xoxo.

Word count: 10.1K (beginning just has lots of background lore pls bear w/ me)

In life, there are those destined for lavish living and those made to struggle to see their next day. From a young age, Dorea knew she fell into the second category. She grew up orphaned; never knowing the love of a mother or a father. Despite the fact, Dorea was strong willed; she found her own kind of love. Love for herself, love for her friends, and love for her life. She knows that she did not have the best life; her dresses had holes in them, she had to work from dawn to dusk, and she often would need to go days without eating. That ultimately changed the day a close friend of hers had come to her with a new line of work.

“One of the castles maids was executed, so her position is open to take”.

Looking back, she should’ve said no from the way a chill went up her spine. She had heard the rumors of the king having gone mad; but at the time, that was not her problem. Being a castle maid sounded a lot better than being a candle maker. All she had to do was clean the chambers and mind her business and pay would be given to her. The task sounded easy— it should’ve been easy. Dorea had ways of not drawing attention to herself. That is how she has made it this far in her life; from hiding. The peace of obscurity brought her comfort; being anonymous was a safe refuge that protected her from prying eyes and the entanglements of wicked connections. The girl was pure and innocent.

Yet, fate, with its twisted sense of irony, had other plans.

She truly had done all she could to stay out of the eyes of the royal family. She should’ve been more careful, more attentive, more aware of the eyes that followed her unknowingly when she walked the halls. Her foolishness had caught up to her one day when a guard had dragged her to the throne room; thrown to the ground to kneel in front of the king, Aerys II Targaryen. Dorea was ready to open her mouth and beg for forgiveness on whatever crimes she had committed but was silenced in fear. “You will meet me in my chambers tonight”, he said. Dorea could do nothing but nod as she could not go against the kings’ words. The only thing she could do was look to the Hand of the King for some form of help, but they stood muted. Moments later, she was whisked away by some female servants— some of them her own friends— and was prepared for the event. She was washed and dressed properly; never have been so physically clean yet so dirty internally.

Later that night, her virtue and gaiety of life was destroyed when the king came and took her. She had prayed to the Gods that it was only a one-time thing. But the Gods seemed to find her plea a joke. The king would request her presence many more times and many more nights afterwards. Her position as a maid in the castle vanished overnight. Now, she stood as something different; still, she did not know exactly what. All Dorea knew was she felt shame as those working in the castle started to treat her different, with more respect and caution. She dreamt every night for this nightmare to end, but it only continued.

“The girl is pregnant, your grace”. The maestar told the king. Both fear and relief spread through her body. Fear in the sense that the king would have her eliminated to hide such sin, and relief that he might just send her away forever. It had to be one or the other; from what she has seen, the queen is currently pregnant as well and due in a few moons. Furthermore, he already had two children born, why would he need her? Her thoughts were interrupted by the third alternative she had feared the most, “You will continue to stay here. You will have the child”. Later that night, Dorea prayed once more for all this suffering to end. Finally, her prayer had been answered in the worst way possible.

She had heard the talks of the rebellion, but she never thought it would come to where she resigned. The king’s heir was now dead, along with his wife and children. The queen was now dead; dying from childbirth. The middle child and newest member of the royal family had been sent to exile. And the Mad King was now dead as well; stabbed by a member of his own Kingsguard.

Death and misery surrounded Dorea everywhere.

For her own safety, and her chance once again at freedom, she did what she knew she had to do. She ran away.

Dorea took refuge in a small village that resided in the Reach. Selling all the gifts and jewelry the king had bestowed upon her; she and her unborn child were set for life. A few moons later, Dorea gave birth during a warm summer night. As she held the newborn in her arms, she thought the Gods had finally decided to take pity on her and grant her some kindness. For starters, she had given birth to a girl. Dorea was thankful in the sense that the child would not be seen as a threat to the line of succession of the Iron throne. Additionally, the babe had no features of a Targaryen. Caressing the small amount of hair on her daughter’s hair, she was given hair as dark as night instead of the silvery-gold feature of her biological father. Dorea let out a sigh of relief once the girl opened her eyes— no violet eyes either. Pulling the babe closer to her chest, she gave a quick prayer and smiled down at the sleeping babe.

Dorea named her Y/N.

As time passed, Y/N quickly grew before her mothers’ eyes. Both her and her mother were beloved by the village folks— Dorea giving money to those who were in need, and her daughter who was tenderhearted and befriended all. No one in the village had known about Doreas’ past or Y/N true linage. And Dorea wanted to keep it that way. She, however, knew that one day it would all come back to bite her. Despite having run away, she knew that there were some people who knew of their existence. It did not help her case more when Y/N had begun to show a great fascination with fire; something the mothers of the village made jokes about, but Dorea knew the truth.

“You have dragon blood within you”, Dorea had whispered to her daughter one quiet night. “You are part Targaryen, but you must keep this a secret. I am only telling you this for your own safety. There are people in this world who will want to hurt you, to take you away from me. Do you understand darling?”. At just the age of eight, Y/N was smarter and brighter than her peers. Hearing such solemness in her mothers’ voice, she nodded, “Yes mother”.

Such a topic was dropped and never brought up again— that was until Y/N turned ten. Since Dorea had the funds, she had hired a tutor for the young girl. Y/N’s instructor was a retired tutor who had taught many kids from noble homes before moving to their village. The old man was just supposed to teach her simple things like language, arts, music, and maths.  Without her mothers’ knowledge, Y/N brought up the topic of history to her teacher, particularly the history of the Targaryen household. And that’s where everything started.

It was one calm afternoon in their shared bedroom when Y/N had asked the question. “Mother, am I cursed?”. Dorea, puzzled, stopped brushing her daughter’s hair and turned towards her, “What kind of question is that?”. Y/N looked sheepishly to the side and confessed everything, “I have been learning history with my tutor. Targaryen history”. Before Dorea could respond, the young girl continued, “You say I am half Targaryen, and based upon their history, I must be cursed”. Dorea questioned what she meant and then let out a loud laugh at her daughters’ answer: “I have black hair mother”.

Dorea caressed her daughters face, smiling and shaking her head, “Darling, your hair color does not mean anyth- “.

“But its true mother!” Y/N exclaimed, “It is shown all over their history. Rhaenyra Targaryen’s eldest sons were born with dark hair, and they all died before they could reach adulthood. Rhaenys Targaryen was known as the “Queen Who Never Was” and saw the death of her two children in her lifetime. Rhaegar Targaryen’s daughter was killed in the sack of Kings Landing. Valarr Targaryen was- “.

“What does any of that have to do with you?!”, Dorea shouted out, startling Y/N. The young girl felt tears come to her eyes as she hid herself in her mothers’ embrace, muffling her words, “They were not pure Targaryen. I am not a pure Targaryen, mother. I do not wish to fall to such misfortunes”. Dorea felt her heart break at the sound and thoughts of her daughters’ troubles. Shaking her head, Dorea raised Y/Ns’ head and looked straight into her eyes, “You are not cursed. Their misfortunes are not yours. Do you hear me girl? This is your life, and you control it”. Y/N could do nothing but continue to cry. "It's okay, sweetheart," her mother whispered, her voice a tender melody that carried reassurance. Dorea cradled the young girl, whose sobs softened but still lingered, the remnants of a storm that had raged within her fragile heart. “I will protect you no matter what”, she declared.

Y/N would forever remember that loving moment, amongst the many others she shared with her mother. While Dorea had said she would do anything to protect her, Y/N should’ve said the same thing back. Yet, fate, with its twisted sense of irony, had other plans for the daughter. Not even a month later, Y/Ns’ mother died, succumbing to a mysterious illness that took her in a matter of days. It felt as though the moment she acknowledged the said “curse”, her world only came to be filled with hurt.

Being only ten years old and now orphaned, the people in the village were kind enough to take the girl in. Specifically, it was a family of three that consisted of a father and mother and a son her age who took her into their home. The boy, named Tomas, had always been a close friend of Y/N. The two would spend many days together, playing and running around in the meadows. He would pick flowers for her and in return she would do the same. There was even one early morning when the two stood by their village’s lake and shared a kiss with each other. Despite still being a child, Y/N felt as though she was feeling the love that was described in the fairytale stories her mother used to read to her.

Sadly, that love was taken from her as well. At the young age of one and three, Tomas had somehow fallen and drowned in that same lake. Y/N had never heard such a devasting scream as Edith, Tomas’s mother, held her dead son in her arms. The village was both in mourning and in query; Tomas had been taught to swim at the age of four, how could this have happened? No explanations were thought of, but Y/N had her own belief.

I’m cursed, she would toss in turn in her bed at night, I am cursed.

Two more years would pass by, and no other unfortunate incidents would have occurred. But there is always calm before the storm. One day, something within Y/N had made her go explore the small forest that was near her village. It was nothing out of the ordinary; she had done it many times before. Yet, she stayed exploring for hours before that same voice within her told her to return. Upon seeing her village within the distance, Y/N should’ve never listened to that voice. She wishes she could’ve stayed back and continue being ignorant of everything. Her village— the homes, the crops, the trees, everything, was up in flames. Running down the dirt paths, Y/N did not have time (nor did she want to) to acknowledge all slaughtered men, women, and children that laid on the grounds. A small amount of hope had sparked within her when she saw that her home was not ablaze. That hope died upon entering the residence— Y/N crying out in distress at the sight of Edith, the women she had come to see as her second mother, dead on the ground. Her sadness was turned to fear when she spotted a large man in the corner, angry and hungry for blood. Before the crazed man could run at her, he was tackled to the ground by Lance— Edith’s husband and her adopted father. He was clearly injured; covered in blood from head to toe but still had the strength in him to scream at Y/N, desperation laced in his voice, “Run girl! Run and do not look back!”. Y/N, not wanting to witness his clear end, quickly listened to his order and ran out the door, trying her best to stay out of sight of all the other savage men as she made her way out the village.

She must’ve ran for hours before she knew she was no longer in danger. A day or two of traveling passed by before she took residence in a small city. That same night, under a dirty bridge, she finally acknowledged all hell that had occurred to her within the past forty-eight hours. The dams broke as she cried and screamed out in sorrow and pain. She cried, and cried, and cried until she had no more tears to let out; now consumed by numbness. Her mother, her first love, her caretakers, her childhood friends, her home; had all been taken from her. What had she done to deserve this? With her heart broken into millions of pieces, Y/N decided that she wouldn’t live like this. Never would she fall in love and never would she form a deep connection with anyone again. She wasn’t going to let herself be tied to the Targaryen name, to its blood, nor its curse. She wasn’t going to let this curse win and see her suffer again.

And so, she did; well, she tried her best at least. With the little money she had on her, Y/N jumped from village to village, city to city, and made sure not to socialize with anyone. There were some instances of people trying to get to know her, boys trying to court her, but she wouldn’t stay very long and would be gone the next day. It was a lonely life, a life she despised but knew she had to endure. That changed a bit when she came face to face with a woman with a fair complexion and silver hair.

Daenerys Targaryen. The “Mother of Dragons”. Her older half-sister.

Daenerys had always known about her half-sister’s existence; her older brother one day rambling that the throne belongs to a true Targaryen and not the current usurper, nor the “Targaryen-bastard filth” their father left behind. At first, Y/N was wary of the girl but soon found herself becoming fond of her presence. Daenerys felt the same way; with no family left on either girl’s end, they quickly found solace in each other— treating one another as the sisters they are. It was strange at first for Y/N; getting used to now having family once again and the companionship of dragons that came with it. Initially, she was terrified at the sight of the foreign creatures but quickly came to love them and their beautiful nature. She became quite close with the one called Rhaegal, favoring the dragon over the overs. Rhaegal doted and protected the girl the same; but still recognized Daenerys as its’ rightful mother. Y/N could say she just held the title of “favorite aunt” now amongst the creatures.

The thought of the curse still weighed heavy in the back of her mind, but Y/N hypothesized that whatever superstition was out to get her would not harm her sister; a true (and last) Targaryen. Y/N immediately recognized Daenerys as her queen and vowed to help her reclaim her throne. For some time, Y/N felt happiness once again entering her life as she spent more time with her sister and her allies. That bliss, however, turned out to be false hope.

“When the time comes and I reclaim my throne, I will legitimize you as a Targaryen”, Daenerys spoke to her one night. Y/N wanted to decline right away; she was content with not having a household name and did not want to be associated with the Targaryen name. Before Y/N could speak, Daenerys looked shamefully down while holding her sister’s hand, “There is a reason why I came looking for...”. Y/N felt a chill run up her spine and quickly encouraged the Mother of Dragons to continue. “I am unable to have my own children. When the time is right, I will need you to find a man, any man of your choosing..”, Daenerys sternly said as she looked into Y/N eyes, “I will need an heir to inherit the throne and continue my family name. Do you understand sister?”. Daenerys felt guilt creep up inside her as she finally confessed her true intentions from the start of meeting Y/N. She was asking too much of Y/N but, she, however, was on a mission to reclaim her birthright no matter what. Y/N stared agape at her, no words coming from her mouth. She wanted to decline even more— but, looking into Daenerys eyes, she saw the graveness within them and the true tone behind her words. She was not asking this of her as her sister. She was commanding this of her as her queen. And Y/N would do anything for her rightful queen.

“Yes, sister. I understand”. Y/N now found herself tied to the Targaryen name. Something she vowed never to be but couldn’t escape.

As time passed by, Y/N kept her promise and stood by Daenerys side as she continued her conquest; now finding herself at Dragonstone, her sister’s ancestral home. The preparations and campaign for Daenerys claim to the Iron Throne was in full effect but was interrupted momentarily.

“The King in the North?”, Daenerys questioned one of her advisors who came bearing news. “Yes my Queen. He sent a raven— detailing that he wishes to speak with you”. Y/N, standing off to the side, expressed her thoughts and question, “I had heard that the King in the North was dead”.

“As did I”, Daenerys said sharply. The man before them nodded his head, “Yes. There was an incident that had occurred that made everyone believe he was dead. But he is very much alive”. Daenerys raised her eyebrows up, skeptical about this so called “King in the North”— “And he trusts me with the information of his false death?”

“Well, according to his letter, yes.”

Y/N and Daenerys turned, staring into each other’s eyes, speaking with them. Not much emotion was shown behind Y/N eyes, but she was able to express with them, “What harm is there in seeing what he wants”. Sighing, Daenerys nodded her head and agreed with her sister.

“Send a message back. Invite him here and let him know I agree to speak with him”.

A few days later, Y/N stood on the shores, waiting to welcome her guests on the request of Daenerys. Once she saw the boats pull up on the beach, she made her way but stopped in amazement. Out from one of the boats came a large, thick furred animal— a dire wolf. She had only ever heard about the mythical creatures and now she was in close distance with one. Dragons and now dire wolves; she held a small smile on her face at the uniqueness that was the world. Clearing their throats, the two guards behind her had snapped her out of her daydream, reminding her of the task. Standing tall, Y/N put on her best welcoming smile and stood in front of the party, “Welcome to Dragonstone. I have been sent by our rightful Queen to give our greetings”.

Y/N voice had started loud and clear, but slightly quieted down towards the end as she made eye contact with a man. A very handsome man to be exact, she thought to herself. He stood tall and strong, a lean build with dark curls and blue eyes as blue as the water behind them. He smiled at her and before he could open his mouth, the older man next to him spoke up. “I present Robb Stark. Heir to the Stark household and King of the North”. Y/N raised her eyebrows at the discovery of the handsome stranger being the King in the North. Turning to him, she held a sort of mischief but harsh attitude in her voice, “Is the King in the North unable to speak for himself?”

The men in front of her were clearly taken back. Except for Robb Stark who let out a small laugh. “Forgive me, my lady, I am very capable of speaking. I am Robb Stark”. He held out his hand and was charmed when she firmly grasped it and shook it; opting out of giving her his hand to kiss.  

“I am not a lady. Please, call me Y/N”. Robb was preparing himself to compliment her name but was cut off by the same man next to him. “She’s the Targaryen bastard, your grace”. Though it was meant to be a whisper for only Robb to hear, Y/N was in close enough proximity to have heard it as well. Robb swiftly turned to his advisor next to him, giving him a crude look before turning back to the girl, “Forgive the rudeness of- “

“No, it is quite alright” she waved her hand, “It is all true anyway. I am THAT Targaryen bastard”. Robb nodded, gulping as he tried to ease the tension, “I have heard a lot about you...and your sister too, of course”. Y/N wanted to let out a chuckle at the sight before her; a gorgeous man trying his best not to insult her. “And I have heard very little about you,” Y/N voiced, “Other than the fact that you were supposedly dead, which I can see you are very much alive”, looking him up and down with her eyes. Robb smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head, “It is a long story”. Y/N let out a “hmm” sound, looking off towards the side to the dire wolf. “Is he yours?”

“Yes. His name is Grey Wind. I’ve had him since he was a pup”. Y/N nodded once more, noticing just how well behaved the wolf was, “He’s very beautiful”. Robb thanked her for the compliment, grinning widely, “I can see you are fond of animals. Do you have any of your own?”

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head, “No. I have children.”

Robb was clearly taken back by her words, a stuttering mess as he questioned her statement. “O-oh? You have children?”. Y/N could sense some disappointment in his voice towards the end as it cracked. Smiling, she shook her head. “No. But I do consider them children. Just not mine. I am just an aunt”. All the guests in front of her were puzzled by her words but ducked down in fear at the sound of a roar from above. Looking up, she smiled at the sight of Rhaegal and Drogon patrolling the skies.

“Seven hells!” she heard one of Robbs’ men yell out. Turning back, she playfully spoke “My children. Beautiful, aren’t they?”. None of Robbs’ men were able to agree or speak; still in shock. Robb, still looking up to the sky, laughed earnestly, “Well, they sure are an eccentric sight to see”. Y/N smiled more at his honesty, clapping her hands together, turning and speaking to the entire party, “Well. I believe that is a sufficient way to welcome you all here. Now, I must welcome you into the castle. Please come, the Queen is curious to known what it is you wish to speak about”.

Upon greeting the Queen, Robb Starks’ words and terms were clear to her. He wishes to ally with her in her conquest to take the throne and create a fairer and just realm. “We both have a clear enemy,” he spoke, “I want the Lannisters dead for what they have done to my family, and you want them off the throne entirely”. Every so often, Robb would cast his eyes off to the side to look at Y/N; something she tried her best to hide her reddening face from. “My men, though small numbers, will be yours to use. We ask that in return, once you take your rule, you allow the North to maintain a degree of self-rule. We will recognize you as the rightful Queen, but we wish to keep the North the way it is”. Daenerys nodded her head, asking her advisors for their views on the matter, and taking Y/N by surprise when she asked her as well. “As I perceive it, the North is biggest land piece in Westeros. It would be better to keep them as allies instead of fighting them off. They recognize you as Queen, and the Stark household keeps the North in check for you, sister”. Daenerys responded with another nod, showing to be clear in thought at all the opinions given to her. The Queen stood up, still not fully convinced, but could not deny all the positives of the compromise, “Very well. I will continue to think about the matter. I will let you know that my thoughts are leaning more toward yes than it is no. For now, your men must be tired. Allow my people to escort them to rest”.

Later that night, Y/N made her way down the dark halls to the one place in the castle that brought her peace. She almost let out a small scream at the tall shadow that appeared around the corner, “My lady?”. Placing her hand to her chest to control her tachycardic heart, she saw that the dark shadow was Robb Stark. “Your grace. You almost scared me to death”, Y/N laughed, “And please, I am not a lady of noble birth. Call me by my first name”. Robb returned her laugh with his own, apologizing for scaring her. “Forgive me, my lad- Y/N. I was just curious as to why you are out so late”. She nodded her head in the direction she was originally heading in, “I can not sleep so I was heading to the library to bore myself with some reading” she joked, “Is it not late for you to be awake as well?”. Robb gave a similar answer; unable to sleep and practically full of energy. Y/N looked down at the ground for a mere second before glancing into his eyes, “Would you like to join me?”. He agreed to her invite, thankful for the darkness of the night hiding his blushed face.

Dimly lit by flickering candlelight, the shelves towered, laid with books that held centuries of knowledge and wisdom. Robb made himself comfortable at one of the chairs available while Y/N opted for the window nook. “Do you come in here often?” Robb asked. Y/n offered a silent yes, trailing her fingers against the rim of the book she had chosen, “I have not been here that long, but yes. I come here every night; I tend to have trouble sleeping”.

“Why is that?” Robb questioned.

“Nightmares”, Y/N replied. Her dreams were always filled with visions of her dead loved ones.

After a pause, Robb gave a “hmm”; silently admiring the girl for not being afraid to show vulnerability. “That’s something we both have in common” he gave a warm smile. Another quiet pause passed by until Y/N looked up at him, “You say that you being alive is a long story— can I listen to it?”. Robb gave a slight nod, standing up to sit next to her in a close but comfortable proximity.

“I was to marry the daughter of someone who I thought was my ally. I agreed initially but something within me told me not to carry out my word”. He slowly reached over for the book that was in her hands, both hands brushing slightly as he took it out of her grasp, now distracting himself with it. “The wedding still went on; I supplied another man in my place. But, there was bloodshed, and I was betrayed. I barely made it out alive, along with a few other men of mine”. Inhaling sharply, he continued with his outpour, “And I’m thankful I did. I have sources that tell me that even if I went along with the wedding, I was to be killed no matter what. The Lannisters long ago forming allies with the people I thought I could trust”. Coming close to a finish, he looked into Y/N eyes, softly smiling, “I guess it was fate that saved me somehow”.

Breaking eye contact, Y/N scoffed at his words. “Fate” she said with repugnance. Her reply caught him off guard, raising his eyebrows in surprise, “You do not believe in fate?”.

Y/N took in a long sigh, shaking her head, “No I believe in it”, she gently whispered the last part, “We just never have seen eye to eye. My fate only brings me bad luck”. Robb took in her words, trying to calculate what he should say next. “I believe fate can bring both good and bad luck”, he began with, “One can say it was my fathers’ fate to have been killed, or my sisters’ fates to be held captive”, Robb swallowed thickly before continuing, “But, it is my fate to avenge and save them. It is fate that has brought me this far; that has brought me here and to you”, he slowly spoke while staring deep into Y/N eyes. She quickly looked away, hoping her face wasn’t red and was successful in controlling her facial expression. Clearing her throat, she spoke firmly, “You must be confused; I believe you are trying to woo the wrong sister, Stark. Is it not my sister who you need as your ally?”.

Robb let out a low laugh, grinning widely, “That may be true, but”, he slowly scanned the room in a playful manner, “I believe that I don’t see your sister in here at all. So, no, I am not confused. I am speaking to the right sister”. A third pause passed by as the two continued staring, wating for one of them to speak or do something. Y/N was the first— standing abruptly, she moved her hair behind her ear and let out an awkward ahem. “I believe I must retire for the night. It was nice speaking to you Stark”. Before she could make her way out the door, he called out to her.

“It’s Robb”. Turning, she questioned what he meant. Smiling, he spoke, “You can call me Robb. You say you come here every night?”. Y/N nodded her head. “Would you allow me to see you here again tomorrow? Or even spend some time with you come morning?”.

Y/N wanted to say no. She needed to stop whatever friendship (or relationship) was forming between the two before she got too close. Before her curse got to him. He had already suffered enough. Despite the fact, deep down, her own selfish desires won over. She hadn’t felt like this in forever— she wanted this feeling to last forever.

“Yes. Of course, Robb”.

Come morning, they spent the entire day together, including the night. The next day was the same. Daenerys had granted Robb and his men a longer stay as there was much to discuss. It was late in the morning that he and Y/N were walking along the shores, discussing the most random of topics. Both were making a great effort to make the other one laugh: sprouting different jokes and funny stories. They both loved hearing the sound of laughter coming out of each another’s mouths. A gentle breeze roamed the air, blowing through Y/Ns’ dark hair. Robb stood silently still, stuck in a daze and awestruck by her appearance. Swiftly, he removed his fur cloak and placed it upon her exposed shoulders. Robb gestured to the area around them as Y/N looked at him in confusion, “I thought you might be cold”. She let out a small chuckle, shaking her head but not returning his cloak back. It provided her with a sense of ease. “No,” she confessed, “I don’t run cold that easily”. Resuming their walk, Robb gave her a look of admiration, “You would do great in the North then. Have you ever been there?”.

She answered with a clear no, stopping in her path to match Robb’s sudden cease of movement. Slowly, he placed his hands upon the cloak, further wrapping it securely around her. “I believe you would love it there. Maybe one day, you can come with me to Winterfell. I would love to give you a tour and introduce you to my mother, and hopefully my sisters too. I’m sure they would love you”. No further sounds were made; the distant sound of crashing waves serving as the only soundtrack to their wordless communion. Y/N leaned slightly into him — his closeness felt like a forbidden sanctuary, a place where she found solace and belonging but knew she shouldn’t enter. Y/N only response was a gentle nod and smile.

Many heart-fluttering moments continued to happen between the two. Stolen glances from across the table, hands brushing as they took their walks, laughter and smiles shared in the dark of night. There was an occurrence in the library when Robb had urged the girl to go to bed; taking notice of her eyebags forming from their long night of talking. “I can’t go to sleep that easily. And even if I can, I just have bad dreams I can’t wake up from”, she disclosed. They sat intimately close, sharing an intense gaze, both their features illuminated by the light of the candles in the room. Y/N could see every detail, every pore, every small scar that graced his beautiful face. She was caught by surprise, her breath hitching when he gently grabbed her hand, drawing small patterns into it.

“You can sleep here if you wish. I will watch over you and wake you at any sign of discomfort”. She wanted to decline, but there was something in his eyes that was persuading her. Y/N then found herself in his warm embrace, laying her head gently on his chest. She could hear every breath he took, every beat his heart made. Sealing her eyelids, he was the sole occupant of her dreams. She had never slept better.

Daenerys was no fool to what was happening before her very eyes. Sharing a private dinner with her sister, she brought up the topic.

“So, you and the Northern have been spending some time together”. Y/N nodded; not being able to lie since there was clear evidence in front of Daenerys. “He is a good man,” she smiled, “Very kind to his men, to his wolf”, she smiled even further at the memory of Robb introducing her properly to Grey Wind. She could still hear his laughter and the concern that replaced it when Grey Wind had tackled her to the ground with wet kisses. “We don’t want to get that pretty face all slobbered up now, do we?” fondness had colored his expression as he helped her back up. The smile upon her face slipped away, a frown and more serious look taking over.

“He’s very kind to me…I don’t think I will be spending much time with him anymore though”, she held her fork tightly in her hand. Daenerys questioned what she meant by her words. “Personal reasons”, Y/N said in a somber tone, “He will be leaving soon, and I plan to stay by your side”. Daenerys nodded her head, a part of her knowing that Y/Ns’ excuse was not the full truth. It’s not an exaggeration— Daenerys wasn’t a fool. She was well aware of Y/N’s standoffish attitude; practically a hermit as she kept to herself, or Daenerys. She saw the reasoning behind it— having an understanding of her past hardships. Additionally, Daenerys once tried to comfort Y/N during a nightmare of hers, hearing the word “curse” coming out of her mouth every few seconds. She badly wanted to comfort her sister, let her know that she was not cursed— life was just not fair to everyone. Daenerys, however, said nothing. Y/N was the only family she had left, and she did not want to lose her so soon, especially to some man. Forcing a smile upon her face, Daenerys tried to hide the distaste she felt towards her own selfishness. “That is good. Family must stick together”.

As the hours slipped away, Y/N and Robb were spending their last night together in the library. Robb and his men were set to leave tomorrow— all discussions and plans made with Daenerys were finalized. Robb, sitting across the room, was enamored as Y/N read to him out loud. It was a couple nights ago that they created this little routine; Y/N would read to him, and he would give his input at certain scenes. Right now, however, he was not paying attention to what was happening in the story. He was trying to memorize her gentle sweet voice, the way her lips moved with each syllable she said. Finishing a passage, Y/N put the book down to ask Robb his view.

“I can not lie to you. I was not paying attention”. Mouth agape, she pretended to be upset, throwing the small pillow she had next to her. Robb caught the cushion, letting out a hearty laugh that rumbled deep within his chest. Standing up, he walked across the room to her, placing the pillow behind her back. He knew she liked to read in comfort. Y/Ns’ smile was warm, spreading even more across her face at the words Robb spoke next, “You have a pretty voice”. Shyly looking down, she quietly thanked him. Robb’s compliments towards her only continued, “And a beautiful face”.

Biting her lip, she was readying herself to change the topic, but he only continued more. “I remember when I saw you for the first time”, he sat down beside her, sharing body warmth now, “I truly thought I had never seen a more beautiful woman before in my life”. Y/N chuckled, rolling her eyes softly and replying in a joking matter “And then you saw my sister and I was the second most beautiful woman you had seen in your life”. Her heart quickened up when she looked up at him, no humor present on his face, only showing seriousness. “No”, he whispered, “you were still the most captivating and breathtaking beauty I’d seen”. Silence filled the room. Without a word, he reached out, his fingers interlacing with hers. “I leave tomorrow”, he spoke of the one thing they both had refused to acknowledge. “That you are”, Y/N said, her main focus placed upon their hands. Drawing small comforting circles into her skin, he asked her what she had planned for her future.

“My future is a mystery”, Y/N sighed heavily, “Regardless, I will continue to stand by Daenerys and be with her when she retakes the throne. She told me that she was going to bestow the Targaryen name upon me, but I’m not sure that is what I want”. Confusion etched Robbs’ features, questioning her meaning. Her face gave away a gloomy look, “I have never really been fond of my Targaryen blood. Daenerys is the only good thing that has come out of it”, she said truthfully, “I’ve gone long enough without a household name, so I don’t see the point in having one”. A smile graced her lips as she looked at him, “I won’t lie, it is a small yearn of mine. To belong somewhere and become a part of something special”.

A pregnant pause filled the room. The only sound being heard was the burning of the fireplace. Y/Ns’ laughter echoed through the room; Robbs’ next statement finding humor within her.

“You can become a Stark”.

Shaking her head, almost wanting to wipe the imaginary tears in her eyes, she continued her fits of giggles. “And how can I do that- “

Robbs’ next sentence caused all laughter within her to cease, her breath getting stuck in her chest. “By marrying me”, he said.

Another pregnant pause. Y/N stared at him in shock, becoming a stuttering mess, “R-Robb, I…”. Before she could finish, he cut her off, taking both her hands into his now, “I plead that you allow me to speak first”, he smiled but looked ready to cry, “I have never felt the way I have when I am with you. You truly have stolen my heart, and I don’t plan on asking for it back. Come with me to Winterfell— become my wife, my queen”. With affection, he raised her hand and placed a gentle, lingering kiss on it, “Grant me the wish to spend the rest of my life with you”. Robb had poured his emotions out into his speech, mistakenly only imagining what he wanted her reply to be. He was not prepared for what Y/N said next.

“No.”

Furrowing his eyes, he dropped one of her hands but still held the other. Shaking his head, he began to apologize profoundly, “I-I’m sorry. I thought maybe there was something between us. Did I ask too soon?”, he looked desperate in front of her, “I can take back the proposal. I can court you properly if that is what you wish – “

“No. No, Robb”, Y/N let her hand drop from his, both now becoming colder by the second, “I can’t marry you”.

The tension crackled in the air as Y/N words hung between them, heavy and unresolved. The room felt suffocating, each second stretching into an eternity. Robb’s jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on the ground, struggling to contain his emotions and appear unaffected, “Can I ask why?”. Y/N bit her lip, her own emotions consuming her, never wanting more than to cry. “Robb,” she sobbed, “marrying me— being with me would only bring you hell”. Shaking his head, Robb grabbed ahold of her face, staring into her eyes, “What nonsense do you speak of? That can be far from the truth”. Y/N wanted to push his hands off her but was brought warmth by his touch, “But it’s the truth. My presence alone carries a curse. All those I have cherished have been harmed and taken from me”, he delicately removed the tears that were dropping from her eyes, “I’m not supposed to fall in love with you”.

Robb didn’t know what to say, how exactly to comfort her. His only reply being, “there is no such thing as a curse”, which angered her to some extent. Standing abruptly, she screamed out in sorrow, “Yes there is! My mother, my first love, my home— everyone suffered because of me!”, she started hyperventilating, burying her face in her hands, sobs echoing through the room, “You have suffered enough Robb. I do not wish to cause you more misery”. Robb sprang up quickly and encircled her with an arm, drawing her in for a reassuring embrace. As she cried, he felt her body quiver against his chest. He rubbed her back in gentle circles, giving her a feeling of comfort and safety. “Shhh…”, he tried soothing her, “Even if there is a curse, I won’t let it get to me, or you. I will protect you with entire life; you will never be subjected to such pain”, he leaned down and placed a tender kiss on her head, “I can’t let you go— living out the rest of my life thinking “what if?”.

Shaking her head, she gently pushed him away, “No, Robb”. Y/N stared at him, her eyes reflecting her inner sadness, “This is for my protection and yours. I would not have the strength in me to live if something happened to you”. Walking swiftly towards the door, she ceased her movements when Robb called out to her.

“Y/N. You deserve better”, he spoke truthfully and with sorrow, “You can’t live like this. Someone as extraordinary as you deserves to be happy. To be loved”.

She gripped the door handle, almost hurting her own hand from the pressure. Turning her head, she offered him a pained smile, “Maybe you’re right”, she opened the door, “But such fine things were not made for me in this lifetime”. And she was gone.

Y/N was unable to sleep the rest of the night, tossing and turning in her bed. Come morning, she mentally prepared herself for a conversation she knew she had to make. Standing in front of the chamber rooms Robb occupied, she knocked. A few seconds later, he opened the door, clear surprise on his face at her presence.

“Hi”, she spoke softly. Robb did not verbally reply to her greeting; opting to nod to her instead. “May I come in?”, she asked, and Robb moved to the side to allow her to enter. Looking at him, his tunic was unlaced— a clear indication she had interrupted him in the middle of dressing up. Y/N was informed that Robb and his men were to leave early morning; all they had to do was suit up and prepare their ships, and then he would be gone.

Facing him entirely, she gestured to his packed supplies in the corner, “I came to wish you a safe journey. I enjoyed our time together”. Robb registered her words, taking a deep breath, “Thank you, my lady”. She didn’t have the strength to correct him. All the while, Robb was struggling to tie up the last laces of his tunic. His hands were shaking. Walking slowly to him, she reached for his hands, moving them away to replace them with hers, “Allow me”.  Robb felt a fire ignite inside him as her gentle touch sent a chill down his spine. Focused on her work, Y/N laced up the complex pattern, her breath quickening as her fingertips touched his bare chest. Finishing up the last lace, she patted his chest and smiled up at him, “There. All done”. She only took one step back before Robb wrapped his arm around her waist, pushing her back to him. Y/N gaze softened, a silent acknowledgement passing between them. Slowly and hesitantly, she placed her hand upon his cheek, caressing him. Stretching her neck, she placed a small kiss on his lips, pulling away in mere seconds before either of them could comprehend it. Robb did the same; the two now sharing their second kiss.

For a while, they stood in each other’s embrace in silence. Robb took the next step, closing the small distance and cupping her face in his hands. With a mixture of yearning and desire, she leaned into his touch, gazing up at him as her heart ached. Reaching down, he kissed her with longing and tenderness. Y/N reciprocated right away, moving her mouth with his to match his rhythm. This kiss was longer, both wanting to savor the moment a bit more. The kiss had started off slowly but quickly came alive as they both deepened it. Robb fingers wove into her hair, pulling her closer to him; despite being as physically close as possible. Y/Ns’ body felt on fire; Robb’s touch both gentle yet firm as he traced her body with his other hand. Gasping into his mouth, she was taken by surprise (but did not fight off) at Robb picking her up by the thighs— walking to the small table in his room and dropping her on it. Opening her legs widely, he stood between them, both breathing heavily as they’re lips continued pressing together. Y/N did not know what to do with her hands, moving them all across his body and landing upon his hair, tugging slightly at his roots. Robb was the same; still opting to trace his hands across her thighs and up her breasts— igniting a moan out of her moth that he swallowed with his. Both their lips parted slightly, allowing them to slip their tongues into each other’s.

The room was heating up by the second. The only sounds that could be heard were their muffled groans and heavy breathing. Parting away, Y/N went to work to unlace his tunic— undoing her work. There was some urgency in the way her hands moved, Robb staring at her, intoxicated by her face contoured in rapture. He went straight for her dress, moving the fabric down to expose her shoulders, planting kisses on her. Y/N let out a loud whimper; the feeling of Robb biting into her neck sending a jolt of pleasure and goosebumps over her body. Grabbing his jaw, she returned her attack on his lips; their kiss now getting sloppier by the second, teeth almost clashing against. Y/N was readying herself to further pull her dress down but was interfered by Robb pulling away. Almost desperate like, she chased his lips but was denied.

“No,” Robb spoke, almost sounding to be in pain. His breath was ragged, chest moving up and down and fist clenched to his side, “Not like this”. Y/Ns’ common sense returned, slightly embarrassed that her hunger for him had taken over her completely. She was thankful that Robb had the strength and respect to keep her virtue safe. A few moments passed and their breathing became stable once again. Y/N watched as Robb gazed down at her, his lips red and bruised. Taking a hold of her face in his hand, Robb placed his forehead against her, “I love you”. Y/N could do nothing but nod, wrapping her arms around his torso, “I know”.

He smiled sheepishly at her, caressing her cheek, “Write to me at least. Please. Write to me about anything…even if you have nothing to talk about. I will always send a reply back. I promise”.  She gave him a tight-lipped smile, kissing his hand lightly, “I’ll try”. Robb knew she was lying. As they held each other’s gaze, time appeared to stop and the outside world became less significant. With one last kiss to her temple, Robb picked up his belongings and went out the door.

Y/N waited a decent number of minutes to pass before she exited the room— making sure there were no prying eyes around. She was hurrying towards her own chambers; wanting to be alone and allowed let all her tears fall free. She didn’t make it far, stopping in her movements at the sound of someone calling her name.

“Y/N”, Daenerys called out at the end of the hallway. Approaching her, she offered her sister a happy smile, “I was looking all over for you. I came to see if you wanted to bid the North men a goodbye- “, Daenerys stopped talking momentarily. Her eyes taking in Y/N disheveled appearance, and the obvious love mark on her neck. “But I can see you must’ve already given your farewell to the King in the North”, she teased.

Y/N nodding, staring down at the ground with her hands picking at the skin around her nails, “Yes, I have. So, I have no need to bid them a further goodbye. If you excuse me, I will retire for the day”. She was barley able to turn her body around before Daenerys grabbed hold of her forearm. “Hold on”, Daenerys said letting out a low chuckle, “It is still early morning. Why would you retire so soon- “. Her amusement dwindled into silence, fully grasping the emotions displayed on her little sisters’ face. “What’s wrong? What happened?”, she inquired anxiously and hastily, “Did that Stark boy do something to you?”, now anger appearing in her voice. Y/N was quick to deny her accusations, “No. He did nothing. It’s what I’ve done to him”. The queen placed a comforting embrace around her sisters’ figure, soothing her hair. “He offered me a marriage proposal, Dany” she sobbed into her shoulders, “And I told him no. I broke his heart”. Daenerys said nothing to the information given to her.  A short interval of silence ensured; disrupted by Daenerys taking in a deep breath.

“Do you love him?”.

She hadn’t expected such a direct question from Daenerys, especially about something she had been trying to conceal. Y/N hesitated for a moment— deciding there was no use in denying it, “I do”.

The older sister pulled away, smiling down lovingly at her, “Then why not go be with him?”. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, stumbling over her words, “Because I promised to stick by your side. To help you,” she defended. Staring back at the floor, Y/N inhaled deeply, “Because I am cursed- “

“That is a load of shit”, Daenerys cut in. Y/N gaped at her older sister in disbelief for her vulgar language directed at her. Daenerys persisted with her speech, “You are not cursed, Y/N. Our history might show that our ancestors without the inherited Targaryen traits suffered greatly, but that does not mean all of them will”. Putting both hands on her shoulder, she reassured Y/N, “I know that in their lives they were still able to experience contentment and love. And you should too”.

Whispering softly, Daenerys hold on her sister tightened, “You've gone through a lot, and life has made it difficult to look past your own suffering, I won't deny that. But you need not forget the positive impact that you have on others around you. You undoubtedly brought happiness and love into the lives of your mother as well as those from your pas, and me toot. I'm even more positive that you introduced that into Robb Starks' life as well”.

Daenerys took a moment to recover after her extended address; watching Y/N register every world she spoke. Placing a gentle hand on her face, Daenerys gave her final say, “So, why not go be with him?”.

Y/N expression mirrored her surprise at what she heard. Shaking her head, she repudiated, “B-But what about you? My promise to you- “. She was cut off once again. “I’ve been thinking it over”, Daenerys began, “And I’ve asked too much from you. You are my only family and I wish to keep you by me, but your life is not mine. You control it”. Y/N held her breath, a small tear forming in her eyes. A sense of déjà vu had come to her— those were similar words her own mother had told her. Daenerys smiled widely at her, taking both her hands into her own, “If I am to be a good queen and rule with fairness”, she gave her hand a gentle squeeze, “I should let you live your life. As your queen, I give you the order to go live a life of happiness with the man you love”. She sustained the cheerful curve of her lips, “Go to him— go be with him in the North. A change of scenery can be good, don’t you think?”.

Y/N didn’t answer her question; instead, she sprang and encircled her sister in a warm hug. “Thank you, Dany,”, she expressed her heartfelt thanks. Daenerys words had opened her eyes; Y/N was not brought into this world to fear it— she was brought in it to appreciate its gifts. The gifts being family, happiness, and love. Daenerys suppressed a laugh that wanted to escape her lips. Pushing the girl slightly, she encouraged her further, “Now go and tell him. Rhaegal will be sad but he’ll live”. Y/N was quick to turn and follow after Robb, but stopped abruptly at Daenerys calling out to her.

“Don’t marry him too soon”. Panic coiled in the pit of her stomach at the thought that Daenerys was taking back what she said. The older sister waved her hand, shooing the girl away, “I just meant that I wish to be present at the wedding. Now, go”.

Robb stood beside a couple of his men and advisor at Dragonstone’s port. He watched his men load up the ships, trying to listen to what his advisor was saying but his mind was elsewhere. He came here to acquire the Dragon Queen as his ally— and now he leaves with that success and a broken heart. He traced back the memory of their times together, the warmth of her hands completely enclosing his, the way her eyes sparkled with every grin. A longing buried deep in his chest arose with every thought of Y/N. It was a bittersweet anguish. His advisor next to him cleared his throat, grabbing his attention when he nudged Robbs’ side, “Your grace”. Following the direction of his advisor’s eyesight, his own landed on Y/N— clearly out of breath and showing urgency.

“Y/N”, he called out. Robb was quick to grab ahold of her forearms, inspecting her body for any signs of injury, “Are you okay? Is there something wrong?” he asked, concern shown deep in his eyes. Y/N nodded her head, calming down her breathing as she watched his men leave to give them privacy. Staring up at him, she confessed, “I will not write to you”. Robbs’ brows drew together in a frown, feeling as though she was taking a jab at his sorrows. A normal reaction would be to spit fire back, but he was too in love with her.

Swallowing thickly, he responded, “I figured that already- “

“No, let me finish” she interrupted him, “I will not write to you…because I am coming with you”. His eyes widened in disbelief at the statement— not given time to properly respond once again. Swallowing the lump in her throat, her palms grw clammy, “Robb…I love you”. At last, he managed to respond, "You do?" with a tone that hinted at both surprise and joy. Y/N nodded, vulnerability showing in the blush of her cheeks and grabbing a hold of his hand, “Yes. I should’ve told you from the start and I should’ve said yes to your proposal- “, she sucked in a trembling breath, “I care about you deeply and I’ve never felt this much love for anyone”. Y/Ns’ heart raced as her words lingered in the crisp morning air. With a subtle shake of her head, she redirected the conversation. “Though I’ve come to see the foolishness in it; I still don’t know if my curse is real or not. All I know is that I wish to spend every minute— every second of my life with you”. Biting her lip gently, she broke eye contact with him, “It is a big risk, I kno- “.

“A risk I am willing to take”, Robb finally cut her off, “I would do anything for you.” In their moment of confession, they wrapped each other in a tight embrace. With their foreheads resting against each other's, a warm yet hesitant smile spread across Y/N face. “So,” she spoke shyly, “is that tour of Winterfell still up for grabs?”

Robb reciprocated her smile with his own, gently lifting his hands to touch her bottom lip. “Yes. It still is” he breathed out, “And my proposal too”. With a gentle tilt of her head, Y/N moved in closer, “Then I say you take me to Winterfell and make me your wife”. Their lips meet in a tender and heartfelt kiss— all their troubles now resolved. A quiet vow of eternity was spoken as their lips moved in rhythm. A familiar roar was heard; Y/N breaking the kiss and laughing as she took notice of Rhaegal in the sky. Robb found himself smiling even more at the sight of her joy; pulling her closer to him.

A cheeky grin formed across her face, “I think Lady of Winterfell has a nice ring to it, don’t you?”

Robb chuckled, caressing her face, “I think Queen of Winterfell sounds nicer. I also think the title of “Robb Starks’ Wife” suits you even more”. Y/N jokingly jabbed her elbow into his side, slightly squeaking as Robb reclaimed her lips in his. They both were filled with excitement and anticipation for what their future together awaited.

[buggie-hagen]

Wedding Sermon for Mom and Dante (8/26/24)

Primary Text | Mark 10:42-45

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Dear People of God, Dear Mom and Dante,

Jesus tells his disciples, “You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them” (Mark 10:42). For our purposes, the Gentiles are those who do not believe in God as he has chosen to make himself known to the world—in the crucified and risen Jesus Christ. We often assume God is whoever we want him to be. Maybe he’s there. Maybe he’s not. We think we can fit god in a box and leave him gathering dust on the shelf until we feel like pulling him out. The most common god on earth is not the one almighty one. The most common god on earth, for each of us, is “me, myself, and I.” We are more apt to trust in ourselves, to trust our own experience and thoughts before we would even consider that God exists outside ourselves, in the revealed word of God. That is, the God who actually has spoken into the world. The world as we have it now is vastly different from the kingdom of God (pause). Jesus challenged those who believed in him by turning their expectations upside down. He upended their understanding of what it means to be great. Functionally-speaking, greatness in this world is associated with who has the most money, who has the most guns and the most bombs, who is able to command the most people, and they obey. (pause) Because we yet live in this dying world this outlook has infested things that are meant to be good, like marriage. Tyrants take advantage of the vulnerable—distorting marriage so it is not built on love and trust, but on fear and coercion, things that turn the blessing of marriage into a curse.

Jesus knows that this is the way of the world to take the best things and make them the worst things. Which is why we must hear what he has to say next. He says, “But it is not so among you.” “But it is not so among you. The rulers of the gentiles lord it over them and their great ones are tyrants over them. But it is not so among you” (Mark 10:43). He continues, “But whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many” (Mark 10:43-45). With these words Jesus addresses you. Today you are my mom and my stepdad. But you are also my sister and brother in Jesus Christ. By baptism you have been made part of the community of saints—those who live in the kingdom of God. So, your marriage will not be based on fear and coercion like the tyrants. But it will be bundled with love, and with trust. You will love each other. Serve one another. Not in a servile, fearful way though! Your love for one another will be with a free and merry heart. For this you need not rely on your own strength! In spite of a world dominated by death and sin, the marriage of two people remains a divine gift. Meaning, it was not spun out of the human mind. When you receive a loving, and supportive spouse, it is a gift of God. For in such a marriage God has given you the gift of another person. He has given you someone who truly makes your heart glad—someone who lightens your load, so you need not be so fearful or alone. Marriage as God has given, is a mirror of God’s love for you in Jesus Christ. God’s one and only Son willingly gave himself over to death, so that you and I and all people may be absolutely free. Free from sin. Free from death. Free from the devil.

This is the gospel. Jesus Christ has been raised from the dead. Therefore, nothing in this world deserves your fear, not even the slightest little bit of it. For it is your Father’s delight to give you the kingdom. And now, Mom and Dante, I will give you the gift that frees you to be a gift to one another: In obedience to the command of the Lord Jesus Christ, I forgive you all your sins. They are no longer yours; they are his. And they have been buried with him never to be held against you. This promise of God is not conditioned on your ability and strength. Nor is it conditioned on how good and moral of a person you are. It comes to you out of God’s sheer grace and mercy. So, Christ gives himself to you freely in the word of forgiveness. And you give yourselves freely to one another in your marriage vows. Christ has freed you to be such people, and Christ continues to grant you this freedom. Namely, when he forgives your sins in the word preached, in the water of baptism, and in the Lord’s Supper. All of these divine gifts of God will be crucial and blessed resources for you in your marriage because they are God’s resources in your life, as God’s faithful people. God smiles upon you Mom and Dante. Penelope. God has given you Dante. Dante God has given you Penelope. You are a gift from heaven to each other. Be glad. Do not worry about anything. And the peace of God which surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

[writtenapoiogy]

the party & the after party; satoru gojo

pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader

summary: You don’t know how you ended up in this predicament exactly. At one moment you were at a party looking for your roommate then you were bumping into star basketball player, Satoru Gojo. And then you were in his car heading to a basketball court to learn a lesson or two about the sport. One thing led to another and you ended up at his apartment.

word count: 5k

warnings: nsfw, 18+, smut, MINORS DNI, porn w lil plot, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, protected/unprotected sex (you'll see what i mean), penetrative sex, choking, you match his freak and he can't get enough of you, use of pet names: baby, pretty, and pretty girl, and probably some more i forgor

a/n: i definitely promised to have this posted DAYS AGO sorrryyy life was doing its thing but i had a lot of fun writing this and writing for satoru so definitely be expecting more from me. this is also the most i've ever written for a oneshot so enjoy HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY SATORUUU (ill edit this lattteerrrr)

It had been officially forty five minutes since your friend ran off and disappeared. You didn’t know what she was up to. But you were going to go home feigning tiredness.

You went up stairs and checked every unlocked door, which were few. You tried the last door at the end of the hall and, “OH MY GOD! I’m sorry, fuck, sorry.” Your hand flung to your face, covering your eyes. You were not expecting to see Suguru Geto balls deep in your best friend on top of the bathroom sink.

You slammed the door shut and began to head towards the front door. When you turned the corner to go down the stairs, you came face to face with a mans strong chest. Your hand that was still covering your eyes, for god knows why, flew out to grab onto something so you didn’t fly completely back and hurt yourself. Long calloused fingers wrapped around yours arms, pulling you flush against his chest.

When you finally gathered yourself and look at who was in front of you, you were met with striking blue eyes and stark white hair. Satoru Gojo, star basketball player. “Shit, I’m sorry.” You uttered.

He beamed a smile at you. “It’s okay. Glad I was here to catch you. You’re Y/N, right?”

“Yeah, yeah.” 

“Have you seen, Suguru?” Satoru peeked his head down the corridor, “haven’t seen him in almost an hour.”

“Don’t open the last door at the end of the hall, unless you wanna get flashed by your best friend.” A shiver runs through your body at the memory of your friend digging her fingertips into Suguru’s buttocks.

Satoru scrunched up his face at the image. “Wait, where are you going. It’s only eleven. The night just started.” He reached for your arm as you began to head down the stairs.

“Uh, parties really aren’t my thing.”

“You run the basketball webpage right?” He was quick to change the subject in a sad attempt at keeping you here a little longer.

You felt your face heat up and your eyes went wide. That’s an anonymous site. And also not your proudest work.

“Based on your reaction, I’m going to assume I’m right.”

“How’d you know..”

“I always see you courtside with a notebook. Didn’t take long for me to put two and two together.” Satoru was very observant and had had his eyes on you since the start of the season. During your freshman year, a senior was running the webpage and after they graduated it was passed on to you. He took notice to the badge you wore during games that stated ‘special media’.

You continue to walk away from him, completely embarrassed. You knew your reports on the games weren’t the best but you didn’t care because it was anonymous. Now the star player was standing in front of you basically saying he has known this whole time.

You ran your hands down your face. “I know, I know. Not the best sports reporter. But to be fair, I’m a creative writing major. I just took this on for the extra credit.”

“It’s not that bad…”

“But still bad. Oh my god. This is so embarrassing.”

“No really you just need like a tiny basketball lesson so your reports are more engaging.” He offered. 

“Yeah. I’ve been to every game this season and it still makes no sense to me.” Maybe because you were a little too focused on the star player and not enough on the game itself.

“Then you’re just in luck because I was just about to head to the court play some ball.. You’re free to join me.” He most definitely was not about to leave. He was actually looking for Suguru to play beer pong but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to hang out with just you.

“I should probably wait for my friend so she’s not worried.” Your friend and Suguru had been messing around for sometime now so you knew she was fine and you also knew that she didn’t care if you just disappeared from the party, she’d find you back home anyway.

“They probably aren’t coming out anytime soon. Just send her text. C’mon, at least I’m not forcing you to stay at this party.”

He had a good point. You would rather be anywhere else than this dumb party. Your friend told you it was sort of a birthday party— this was not what you were expecting. You would also be a fool not to agree to spend some time with Satoru. “Okay, why not.”

There was a silence in the car— not an uncomfortable silence, but still a silence non the less.

“So a creative writing major, huh?” He broke the silence.

“Yeah, I know, not the kind of major that pays the bills but I love it.”

He smiled over at you and your heart flipped as it attempted to break free from your chest.

New topics began to flow between the two of you. You learned new things about him and he learned some about you too. You learned that he didn’t mind the attention from basketball but it was also slightly the reason he doesn’t want to go further with it. He was a business major. 

You pulled up to an outdoor basketball court. And that is when you realized you had left your coat. You had worn a tracksuit to the party— your coat being the only thing that really kept you warm. 

“Oh fuck, I forgot my coat.” You recalled walking past the closet which held your coat hostage currently.

“It’s okay you can wear my hoodie.”

“No, no, that’s fine. I don’t want you getting cold for my sake.”

His long fingers dipped underneath the neckline and he pulled it off, swiftly. “I insist.”

You took the fabric from his hands and you were immediately engulfed with his heavenly scent. So warm and inviting. You pulled it over your head in the small space of his car, obscuring your vision— you missed the way his stare lingered on the exposed skin of your abdomen.

“Alright hotshot show me what you got.”

He smiled at you and then the two of you got out of the car. God you couldn’t get enough of his smile.

Satoru was a bit of a show off on the court, always. But especially right now with just you in attendance. He was swift and quick on his feet. Every time he made a basket he shot you a dazzling smile. “Your turn my lovely poet.” Satoru tossed the ball to you lightly. 

You caught the ball. “I’m not a poet and I can’t play basketball.” You stood and met him in the middle of the court. You were never really good at sports so you stuck to your books— that’s what got you your scholarships.

“And I’m a good teacher. I do coach a youth basketball team when I’m free.”

You sigh, “What’s in it for me? I thought I was just here to observe so I could write better.”

“Well that and to get you moving around so you can warm up. You’ve gotta be freezing over there.” He pleaded with you, “Please it’ll be fun.”

His words made you realize just how cold you actually were. You reluctantly agreed to let him teach you some things. For the sake of being warm and not to get closer to the tall man standing in front of you. Right?

He first showed you how to dribble the ball and then went on to show you how to shoot. Your first attempt, the ball flew over the backboard. Your second, the ball hit the bottom part of the net— nowhere close to the rim. An third attempt, the ball flew towards the hoop with promise before it hit the edge of the rim and bounced back to the two of you.

Satoru threw his hand out and caught the ball before it could hit you. “Okaayy, lets work on your stance a little. Yeah?” He placed the ball back in your hands before he walked behind you and hovered his hands over your hips, “May I?”

You turned your head towards him when you heard the closeness of his voice. Satoru was extremely close to you. You would be lying if you said you didn’t have a little crush on him. You just didn’t want to admit cause who didn’t have a crush on Satoru Gojo. 

He was attractive, obviously. You weren’t blind— you just hadn’t seen him up close and personal. He was absolutely the most handsome person you had ever laid your eyes on. He could have anyone he wanted. There was no way he’d pick you.

His bright blue eyes had a sparkle to them. You felt yourself getting lost in them before your eyes trailed down to his lips. His soft pink lips. Oh, how you would love to feel them against your own.

As he said your name he couldn’t help but smile when he saw where your eyes had lingered to. He wanted to lean in. He wanted to close that gap between the two of you.

“Um, yeah. Yeah that’s fine.”

He placed his hands on your hips and your mind went completely blank. It’s as if his fingers were ablaze and you could feel the burn through the clothes against your skin.

After he helped you fix your stance he explained to you how simple it would be from there. His hands went from your hips up to your arms and you had to take a deep breath to center yourself. “Alright now just toss it.” His lips were right next to your ear. “C’mon you got this.”

You almost melted right then and there. However, you still stood strong and you threw the ball and to your surprise it actually went in.

You hollered and hopped a couple of times before turning around and wrapping your arms around Satoru. He was so warm and he smelled so good. You could really get lost in his arms. You two stood like that for a few minutes before your brain came back to you and you pulled away, clearing your throat.

He smiled down at you, “I told you you could do it.” 

After he retrieved the ball he went in for a dunk and you couldn’t help but let your eyes trail down to his exposed lower stomach. Your eyes caught white hair that trailed down into his sweats.

You scoff, “Show off.”

“What you wanna try to dunk? I can go get you a step stool if you want.”

Oh he thought he was so funny. “Jackass.”

He let out a boisterous laugh. “Hey, c’mon, I was just messing around. Why don’t you try to take the ball from me. I’ll go easy on you.”

He explained to you that this was to make sure that the person you’re guarding cannot pass the ball to their teammate or shoot the ball and score a point. 

Every time your hand got close to the ball it was immediately out of your reach yet again. “Satoru, you said you’d go easy on me.” You frowned.

“This is me going easy.”

Oh.

You continue to try and take the ball from him this time he goes for a score and shoots the ball, causing you to trip on your feet and ram face first into his chest. You both come crashing down to the ground. Just before crushing you underneath him, he caught himself with one of his forearms on the ground and his other hand right next to your head— caging you beneath him.

His breath was hitting your face and you could smell the faint sent of alcohol. “Did you drink tonight? C-cause you drove.”

“I just had one beer. And you got here safe didn’t you?”

“Yeah…” You let out a barely there whisper. You took in all of his features. His fluffy eyelashes. You fingers twitched to touch his cheek.

You hadn’t realized how deeply you were staring at his lips till your eyes moved to meet his and he was unashamedly staring at your slightly agape mouth. 

Then in the distance a car alarm went off and the two of you scrambled away from each other. Breaking the tension in the air.

Satoru quicky busied himself with the basketball and began moving around the court again. Your eyes were glued to him, much like when you attended one of his games. There were just a few things you were noticing. Things you tried so hard to ignore before. 

You noticed how his hand easily gripped the ball. His hands were large. And then when he spun the ball on his finger you thought you were done for. Your mind having inappropriate thoughts about the white haired man in front of you.

What his long fingers would feel like wrapped around your neck…. Or how they would feel inside of you..

“Hellloo? Earth to Y/N.” Satoru was now standing directly in front of you. He laughed at the shock on your face. “I thought I lost you for a second there.”

“Sorry. Uh, what time is it. It feels like its getting late.”

He looked down at his arm to check the time on his watch. “It’s just a little past midnight.”

“I should probably go home.”

“Why?”

“I-,” You started.

“Cause it’s Saturday night so I know you don’t have class.” Satoru really didn’t want you to leave. He was enjoying being around you and he didn’t want the night to end. “Please. Stay. Have some fun with me.”

You laugh. “It’s freezing.”

“I didn’t say we had to stay at the court.” Fuck it. He was gonna figure out how to spend the rest of the night with you. “Would you wanna go back to my place?”

“And do what?” Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of being alone with him at his apartment.

“Whatever you want.” And he did truly mean whatever you wanted. Because he wanted you and he would be through the roof if you wanted him too. 

He had this look in his eye and how could you refuse him. “Okay.”

You made your way back to Satoru’s car and you felt his hand cover yours on the door handle, “Let me.”

You turned to look at him and yet again he was extremely close to you. You were starting to think this man didn’t understand the definition of personal space but you didn’t mind it. Not when it was him.

But now you thought of this closeness as dangerous. You had been stopping yourself from kissing his soft and tempting lips all night. You knew if he got close to you again you wouldn’t be able to hold back.

You took in your surroundings and he had you caged in against his car. “Satoru?”

“Yea..”

Fuck it.

You brought your hands up to his head and tangled your fingers in his pillow soft hair and brought him down to close the gap between you two. You moaned against his lips and felt your body mold against his. He tasted so sweet and all you wanted to do was indulge in him.

Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you completely against him. All he could think was yes yes yeswhen you kissed him. He parted his lips and nipped at your bottom lip.

Your fingers tugged his locks when you felt his teeth against your lip. He moaned into your mouth and your brain turned to mush. You felt a familiar knot begin to form in your gut.

His hands that were wrapped around you went down to your ass and he ground you against his hips— making you feel how hard he was.

Satoru reluctantly pulled away from you because he knew that if the two of you stayed where you were he might’ve taken you right there against his car.

“Fuck, get in. Now. Please.” He said, desperately.

You placed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth and nodded as you got in the car when he opened the door.

When he got in the car he immediately pulled out his cell and sent a text to Suguru telling him not to come back to the apartment tonight because he had company.

On the short drive to his place his hand stayed on your upper thigh. He drew enticing circles along your inner thigh which had you spreading your legs for him. You wished you had opted for a skirt tonight and not a sweatsuit.

He was on you as soon as you guys walked in. He was standing behind you with his arms running up your abdomen underneath your layers of clothing. He walked you towards his bedroom with his mouth attached to your neck.

“Satoru..” You whined at the sensation of his touch. He was driving you insane in the best way possible.

Satoru hummed, “I love the way you say my name.” He stripped you of his hoodie that you still had on. He started to undress you slowly. When he pushed your pants down, he made sure to kiss your legs all the way down till the fabric pooled at your feet. Soon you were standing in nothing but your matching lace set. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

You felt yourself getting shy underneath his gaze. You needed to level the playing field. You balled your hand in his shirt and pulled him closer to you. You turned the two of you so that his back was to the bed.

You started to push his shirt up his chest and he made quick work of removing the item of clothing. You let yourself take in his sculptured body. He looked like a greek statue. Carved straight from marble.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” 

Your eyes shot up from his v-line and right to his lust filled eyes. “Shut up.” You shoved him onto the bed but he was quicker than you thought. Satoru had pulled you on top of him as he fell back. For nearly the third time this night.

He chuckled into the space between you two, “We have to stop meeting like this.” He smirked at you before he flipped the both of you over so that he was looming over you. He captured your lips in his again. It was searing compared to the last one. His wet warm tongue slipped into your mouth and you welcomed him with a moan.

With you in his bed and him on top of you, his smell was all around you. It made you wanna melt into his sheets and never leave. It was undoubtedly intoxicating. You brought your hands to his beautiful soft hair again and pulled him harder against you.

His hands were all over you. He moved his head down and laid kisses to your jaw then trailed down to your neck— his fingers occupied with unhooking your bra. When he freed your breasts he immediately brought his mouth down to one of the hardened buds.

Your back arched at the sensation. “Oh, fuck.”

Satoru lapped at your sensitive nub while his unoccupied hand tweaked the other. You felt your underwear dampen when his teeth scrapped against you. He let off of it with a pop and then dragged his tongue down you. He stopped at the top of your panties and nipped at the skin there.

It crossed your mind what he was about to do. “Oh. Satoru, you don’t have to.” Being eaten out wasn’t really one of your favorite things in bed.

He frowned, “You don’t want me to.” Satoru desperately wanted to taste you. He wanted to leave you trembling and gushing on his tongue.

“It just doesn’t really… do much for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve never really, erm, finished from it…” You fiddled with your fingers, purposely not looking him in his bright blue eyes.

“Oh, baby, that’s a shame but I gotta make sure you’re ready. I’m about to make you come so hard you forget your own name.”

Your heart swelled at the pet name before you audibly gulped. He smirked devilishly up at you before he wrapped his hands around your calves and pulled you down to the edge of his bed.

Satoru got on his knees in front of his bed, where your legs now dangled. He slowly pulled your panties down your legs and he let out a low groan when a string of wetness connected you to the fabric. “You’re so wet for me, hmm. I can’t wait to taste you.” He said in a pleased hum.

He pressed a soft kiss to your clit. You felt that knot tighten just a tad but enough for you to know that you had never had this done to you properly. He moved his head away from your wet heat and placed kisses on your inner thighs. Satorugripped under your knees and pushed your legs up.

He saw your hands gripping his sheets in anticipation. “Put your hands in my hair. Pull as much as you want, I like it.”

Oh?

You pushed his hair off of his forehead and ran your fingers through the strands before tugging lightly to test the waters. You were pleased to hear a low whine leave his lips. 

He licked from your entrance up to your clit before he started to lap at your clit like he was making out with it. You lost your mind. You couldn’t control the noises that left your lips.

“Ah..” You jutted you hips up against his face, involuntarily.

Satoru closed his mouth on your clit and started to suck just as he sunk his long middle finger inside of you. He began to pump into you at a slow pace.

“Shit.” You panted and tightened your grip in his hair making him moan against your sensitive nub. The pleasures he was giving you was a thousand times better than what you did by yourself. He was reaching places inside of you that you didn’t even know existed. Places your fingers could never dream of reaching.

He stopped suckling your clit and laid his tongue flat when you started to grind down on his finger. You were getting close to coming so so close. He added another digit to the finger that was already inside of you.

Your back arched off the bed and you pulled his hair harder than you had all night when those two fingers curved and hit the sweet soft spot deep inside of you. You were left babbling and mumbling. All he could hear was his name and a bunch of pleas and curses.

Satoru wrapped his lips around your swollen nub again as he continued to assault your g-spot. Your orgasm hit you in a flash of blacks and reds. A loud moan left your lips and your hands went lax in his hair.

He removed his mouth from you and let out a deep chuckle. His fingers continued to pump in you, letting you ride out your high. “Fuck, you’re tight.” He looked down as he removed his fingers from you, your juices glistening his chin and his fingers. He brought his fingers to his mouth and cleaned them off, “and just as sweet as I thought.”

Your mind was completely blank from your earth shattering orgasm. You just stared at him dopey.

“Are you sure you wanna do this? We can stop now.” Satoru asked when he came up to your face after you came down from your orgasm. And you truly couldn’t believe he would ask you a question like that mere inches away from your face with your juices dripping down his chin.

You aggressively nodded your head. You needed him. More than anything.

“C’mon use your words, pretty.” He hummed and it sent you reeling. His voice sounded so sultry and melodic. “Haven’t even got to fuck you dumb yet.”

“Yes, please. M’sure. I need you.”

“Yeah? I need you too.” He moved away from you and you immediately sat up to see where he was going. You saw him going to his nightstand and grab a condom. That’s when you remember what he said before he ate you out. 

I gotta make sure you’re ready.

And that’s when your eyes fell down to the huge bulge in his sweats.

Satoru watched your eyes widen when he pulled his sweats and boxers off in one go. “It’s okay, you can take it. I got you.” He met you back at the edge of the bed. He didn’t even bother climbing in the bed with you. He was gonna fuck you off the edge of his bed. “I’ll go easy on you”

You bit your lip and watched him put the condom on and then line his thick tip with your sopping wet hole. As he began to sink into you inch by hefty inch. He made you feel so entirely full and he wasn’t even all the way in yet. You spread your legs wider for him. You wanted every inch of him inside of you.

“Heh-, See I told you you could take it.” His words sounded eerily similar to his ones earlier when you made a basket. He pushed all the way in, buried to the hilt. “Shit. You’re so tight.” 

Satoru almost pulled all the way back out which had you reaching your hands for him. You were feeling emptier by the second with every inch that he pulled away from you. You were feeling needy and you didn’t even care how embarrassing it may have looked.

He slammed his hips back in, all the way in, he left you gasping for air. He started to find his pace and began to fuck you so good. He had his headboard hitting the wall repeatedly with his thrusts.

“You feel so good. Fuck.” He had his hands on your waist—his grip tight—as he continued to plow into your wet cunt. His eyes traced all over your pleasure blown face. Half lidded eyes staring up at him as you tried to maintain eye contact. Your mouth agape in a small ‘o’.

“You’re so big.” The sounds that left your mouth were almost inhumane. You wanted him closer. You needed him closer. You needed him raw. Every time you felt your climax building you just thought of how you’d be coming on a piece of latex and not his pretty dick.

“Can you take it off.” You whined. “Please. I wanna feel you, ‘toru.” 

“W-what?” He grunted in response, you having caught him off guard. “Take what off, baby?” He didn’t stop his thrusts and brought his hands up to your breasts to tweak your nipples.

“T-the condom. Please take it off.” You mewled when the head of his cock came into contact with you cervix. You whined when he stalled at your words. He rolled his hips, his dick pressing deliciously against your cervix.

Who was he to deny you? Fuck, who was he to deny himself. “Fuck. Yes.” Satoru slowly pulled out of you. He wrapped his hand around the base of his cock and slowly pulled the condom off, wincing at the tightness. He tossed the condom into a little trashcan before he lined himself back up with your entrance. 

You, getting impatient, wrapped your ankles around his ass and pulled him forward. His cock slid into you with ease. Satoru let out a deep moan when he slipped in bare. You feel so much better to him this way. Nothing dulling the feeling of your wet pussy to him. He was making more noise than he had been all night.

The noises leaving Satoru’s lips made your walls flutter around him. You were so close. You just were missing something. He brought his hand up to your throat and before he wrapped it around your neck he asked, “Is this okay.” You nodded fervently, answering his question.

You were gonna be the end of him, he thought. You were so fucking perfect. The way your eyes rolled into the back of your head when he closed his long fingers around your throat. “That feel good, pretty girl?”

You hummed in response. Your hands reached up and grabbed his arm. You let out a pathetic whimper when he tightened his grip. You felt that knot in your stomach getting ready to snap

“I said you’d forget your name not mine, baby. Say it.” He said as he hiked one of your legs up with his free hand so that he was hitting your g-spot. And he didn’t let up once he found it.

“Oh fuck.. Satoru!” You sobbed out— your words sounded harsh from the pressure on your throat. All you hear were the wet squelching sounds of him fucking into you raw. “Fuck, fuck. Baby, baby… M’gonna come.”

“Yeah?” He let out a low moan. “You want me to pull out?” He felt his balls tighten when your soaked walls clenched around him, pulling him in deeper.

“N-no.” That was definitely the complete opposite of what you wanted. You wanted him to come inside of you and not waste a drop.

“No?”

You shook your head. “Mmm. I want it inside. Please, s’toru, please. I need it.” You fucked him back as best as you could. “Come with me. I want.”

Satoru let go of your throat and leaned forward, hitting that spot even deeper.“Fuck, yeah. I got you, baby.” He continued to roll his hips into yours. You were a moaning and whimpering mess below him. His next three thrusts were hard and rough and just enough to make the both of you come with a loud shout from him and a moan from you.

The two of you were laying there panting with your mouths over the others.

“Fuck.” You finally broke the silence. “That was good.”

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “Happy birthday to me huh?”

“What?! It’s your birthday?”

“Well, whose party did you think that was?”

You roll your eyes, “Happy birthday, Satoru.” He smiled down at you and placed a soft kiss to your lips. You finally came to your senses and realized he was still in you… and he was still very hard.

This was gonna be a long night.

my requests for satoru are open btw! click here

[diejager]

@warenai gave me the juiciest idea.

Draw Cw: smut, porn, prostitution, P in V, creampie, jealousy, handjob, mating press, voyeurism, tell me if I missed any.

part 2

There was a silent understanding between the three of them after that whole fiasco, Ghost and Soap demanding answers from their captain on their own time. Ghost confronted Price in his office that night, body still hot and bothered from your live but wracked with cold sweat from finding out that Price was your third, highest donator. Price hadn’t expected him, neither did Price expect him to find out about his little secret, the thing he spent his money on, but when Soap stopped him outside of the base, he wasn’t surprised then. Ghost had told him about everything, how both he and Soap were members of your OnlyFans, devoted and loyal, only using the site to watch you.

Whether it bothered Gaz that they kept having silent conversations through side glances and open staring, he hadn’t voiced his confusion or curiosity, he stayed outside of this struggle to catch your attention. For all they knew, only the three of them knew you and enjoyed the content, spending their nights jerking off at your sweet voice and beautiful body dressed in all kinds of things. Gaz seemed none the wiser, acting as he usually did, smiling gently, taking care of his strict skin routine, trimming his moustache and caring for his favourite cap.

Yet, he seemed so energetic today, exhuming happiness and giddiness while the others looked dejected, shoulders slumped lower and sighing disappointedly. It was suspicious, for Gaz to act out of character, especially after your announcement of an anonymous winner of your draw, choosing at random one of your patrons to host a live with, letting them fuck you as they dreamed to. Unfortunately, you hadn’t told the public to protect the winner’s identity until the live, you would contact them directly for a day and time.

They seethed in silence, a storm of jealousy stewing in their guts while Gaz smiled and laughed to his phone, eyes glued to his screen and fingers tipping away as if he was in a rush to answer the person he was messaging. It went on like this for a while, a week before Gaz asked for a few days of leave, packing his rucksack with clothes and toiletries with the prettiest and newest clothes he had. Soap had teased him about leaving and dressing pretty for a date, that he’d been texting the girl who caught his heart for a wile now.

They forgot about Gaz after he left, happy for him and curious but not involving themselves into his business, until they got opened up your live after they got the notification about it starting in a few minutes. The watched you smile, wave at the camera, manicured nails gleaming under the soft, yellow light of a hotel room. You changed the location of stage, a comfortable looking hotel room with a queen bed and silken sheets. The highlight of this live - like every other - was you, dressed in a pretty, satin shirt fitting your dark navy teddy, the same shade under warm lights.

You sat on the bed, legs open and flashing the dark patch of your underwear, darkened with slick from earlier foreplay with your guest —the lucky bastard. You made the same introduction, a smile and wave, followed by welcoming them with your stage name, but this time, you reached out for someone off screen, fingers locking with a caramel one, thick fingers with calloused pads, the person who won the draw was lean but still muscular, his arms and thighs curved and abdomen hard. He wore a familiar mask —a skull painted balaclava.

“This is GazCan,” you pulled the man down to him hands and knees, pressing kisses against his gleaming chest, lips wandering up his throat and he’s masked cheek, “He won this year’s draw.”

They knew the balaclava, how could they not when they wore it before as a team, one singular squad fighting towards one goal — it was the Ghost team mask. This was no coincidence, it all fit in with their situation: Gaz had been overly enthusiastic and happy for a week, his sudden ask for days-worth leave and all the neatly folded clothes and skin care.

This winner was Gaz. They were watching Gaz finger you, pumping two of his fingers into your slick cunt, drooling over his palm for everyone to see and hear, the lewd and wet sound of his hand. They watched Gaz fuck you raw, folding you in half, knees to your ears and feet dangling over his shoulders as he snapped his hips, pounding you into the hotel bed and whispering filthy things into your ear. Your swollen folds puffing around his cock, hair trimmed and clean, veins bulging out as he drove in, were in full view of the camera, letting them watch how well Gaz was breeding you.

They boiled with jealousy, being forced to watch one of them feel you, taste you, fuck you. Gaz made you sign for them, mewls and keens rising high from how well he pleasured you, the pointed tip of his cock hitting your spongy cervix and veins rubbing against your g-spot. He was a mix of gentle sex and domination, keeping his hands on you and bending you to his liking, manhandling you to fit his wild fantasies and you liked it.

Despite seeing someone they knew fuck you, that didn’t stop them from coming, spreading their cum over their cock and jerking out the rest of it against their bed and desk. It drove them wild thinking that they could’ve been the one filling you up with their load rather than Gaz, his white jizz bubbling out of your twitching cunny and rolling down your perky rim.

“GazCan, is it, sergeant?” Price cock his brow, lip pursed and arms crossed, he looked so stern as he stared Gaz down.

“Captain,” Gaz smiled back, shamelessly comfortable with his date being shared in the briefing room, then he turned to Ghost, “Ghostie,” and to Soap, “SexiSoap, not exactly subtle.”

Part 4

Tag list: @warenai @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @cutiecusp @ladyof-themoon @yourdaydreamerfan

[weirdrtvscomments]

in case anyone is struggling with deciding who they want to vote for in the RTVStan/RTVS Nation/RTVSia/RTVS Topia/RTVS Topia-Ville presidential election, i have compiled a list:

Log

Representing the Ethernet Party: “A people with 5 ping to the main server is a people that prospers.”

Will change the name to RTVS Nation

Comic books are a part of the platform

Everybody gets a free moat

Eyes that are twice as big for everyone that wants them

Offload cost to Wifi users

Working on a battery charged snack

Hypnotist is a protected class

Robloxia war veteran

Defenses are proven

Will take your ants and import more

Endorsed by: Soulja Boy, Ken Masters, Stitch 

Signature move when President: Snake Trick (no weaknesses)

Punishment for other candidates: Follow him out & about like an RPG party

Mike

Representing the Sweets & Treats Party: “I was just outside eating a sandwich.”

Orange creamsicles will be available in every store

Free Steam Deck for every American citizen

Will lower tariffs and imports on all types of sweets and treats from Canada, while raising tariffs on everything else

Most important snack is Wasabi Peas

Not very good against zoners

Why are ants so bad?

Endorsed by: 2 (anonymous), Trap Snax

Signature gimmick when President: Whenever he eats a yummy piece of candy he gets an install, which gets its own theme

Special move when President: A cool punch like Marissa from Street Fighter 6

Punishment for other candidates: Have to reach into a bin of Bean Boozled that's 90% gross ones and eat it in public in front of cameras and the press. After, push into the alligator moat. Also, Mira’s idea

Mira

Representing the Drinks & Eats party: “I was rooting around in a dumpster out back.”

Will change the name to RTVSia

One of every food and drink, free of charge

Will develop a chemical compound called “Ketracel White,” will genetically engineer ants to be dependent on it 

Endorsed by: IceFrog, Yoshi, Yoshi (from Mario), baby Yoshi (might be one and the same), Chun Lee

Signature move(s) when President: Level up system (up to 3), if she gets knocked down she loses a charge of it, gets it when she does some power up move (or something), negative edge inputs (landmine, fireball, that one thing Bison does in Street Fighter 5), install where she gets a command grab, 8-way air dash, guard impact, levels reset between rounds, invincible super (can do it on wakeup)

Punishment for other candidates: Detractors rounded up and taken into woods where they are given a knife, camera, and laptop to make a Youtube channel of them living in the woods (Ethernet in the trees)

Trog

Representing the People’s Choice Freedom Integrity Liberty Justice Prosperity Sovereign Citizen’s Ethical Governance Democratic Renewal Global Sustainability Citizens for Unity (may be part of the Lego Star Wars Party): “We’re all part of God’s nation in my eyes.”

All breakfast restaurants have to be open for lunch & dinner in addition to breakfast

THEY HAVE TO GIVE YOU A LARGE WATER WHEN YOU ASK FOR IT

Desegregate PornHub and GayTube

Everybody gets a free castle

Immediately cease all snack exports 

Will start war with Canada

Will mail a bomb if you want him to

Will double your ants and give them to the next guy OR will turn them all into 1 big ant

New category on PornHub for ants

Will build death robots and a spaceship

Will be inventing gorgons, griffins, vampires, Frankenstiens, zombies, mummies, insects, gorgon ants (small)

Endorsed by: The Sims, Captain Video, Half Life 2: Lost Coast (demo), Tobuscus

Super move when President: 1 Sphinx on every tile surrounding, +1 food, +1 culture (if next to a river, +2 food, +2 culture instead)

Theme song: Steppin’ Out by Joe Jackson

Punishment for other candidates: All other candidates have to do an embarrassing pose and gaze into Medusa’s eyes, which will turn them into stone. The statues will be put in front of the White House, where during a nation-wide celebration they will be knocked down with a wrecking ball/individually destroyed with dirty bombs

Wayneradiotv/Wayne John 

Representing the California Milk Processors Board: “Enjoy DOGh.”

Every gallon of milk will have $2,000 in it

Free PornHub premium

Any dairy product you want whenever you want it

Will attract more ants

Will rename it to Milk Nation

Pig milk Iron Fist

Endorsed by: Britney Spears, Beyonce, Rhianna, Serena Williams, Venus Williams, Shaquille O’Neal, Harrison Ford (all branded with Permanent Milk Mustache & committed their eternal lives), Batman, Mario, Spongebob

Signature move when President: Cow army that walks on their hind legs and shoot milk as projectiles

Punishment for other candidates: Mulched into feed for his cows

Things you need to rememer for the ONLY ELECTION THAT MATTERS!!!!

[mlyscha]

( ✉️ ) 𝒜nony𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬ly in l𝓸ve.

★ ( 언하이픈 NI-KI ) ── SUM. in which you have a crush on the popular guy in your class but is too shy to confess, sending him letters anonymously. genre. angst, cliche, fluff, crack, crush to more (?). 𝒻ℯ𝗆𝖺𝗅𝖾 𝗿𝖾𝖺𝒹𝖾𝗋! 𝓌𝒸. 799O ♡ 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝗌, 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱! ( 𝐦𝖺𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍. ) ❔ PART.2

BIG warnings. mentions of food, reader is bullied by mean girls in class, jaeyun, heeseung and sunghoon study in the same class as riki, sexual term: "get his dick wet", curse and dirty words, vague mention of sending nudes, reader lives with her sister and grandma, reader mum's passed away, sunghoon's indirect kiss theory is mentioned, slow burn, not proofread, english is not my 1st language.

𝒜!NOTE. HAPPY LATEEEEE BIRTHDAY MY BABY RIKI, I LOVE YOU MWAH MWAH IM GONNA CRY I LOVE HIM SO MUCH!!!!! ><

YOU LOVE WATCHING YOUR CRUSH practice after class at an empty classroom. even though you felt nervous to be spotted and perceived as a creep, you kind of wanted to, wondering if riki would look deep into your eyes for the first time in years you've been loving him.

yesterday you wrote your first letter to him, expressing how much you admired him and how much you loved when his smile while he joked with his friends. you left the letter inside his backpack and watched his expression change the moment he realised something like a crumpled paper was hiding in the very depth of it. once you saw his frown and laugh while joking about the, well, the once love letter, you felt embarrassed ━ almost like ashamed.

you wondered for a second: why would he laugh at something you spent all night writing and planning how to give it to him? and why would he walk up to the trash bin? ━ did he threw it away? wait, did he? ━ your eyes began to form tears. you watched your crush walk out of the classroom while talking loudly with his friends, but the only thing that could be heard were your loud thoughts.

you quickly woke up from your trance and walk up to the trash bin to check if your situation was unfortunate. and i guess it was, well, is.

YOUR HEART BEGAN TO BEAT faster once your phone ringed. thankfully, riki wears earphones while practicing. you sighed before sitting on the ground while your back rested against the cold wall behind you.

"what do you want?!" "wow, someone's a bit grumpy today, huh? he didn't come to school?" your sister jokes. you take a deep breath before replying. "what do you want?!" you whine. "grandma is asking you to come back earlier," she says. "why?" "because she is worried about you." "okay, bye-" "wait! can you buy me some ice cream?" you sigh. "no! you just said grandma wants me to come back home earlier, dumbass!" "but... a few minutes won't hurt anyone! hang up and you'll get home even quicker! bye!" "by- ugh..."

you stood up from the ground, taking care to not be spotted again while adjusting your backpack. you took a quick glance at the classroom where riki were. however, he was gone, leaving you confused since you didn't know he just left. "does it means he saw me?!" you whispered-yelled, thinking to yourself. "did he?!" you glanced back, looking at nothing else than a beautiful orange sunset, temporarily painting those white walls.

YOU LEFT THE SCHOOL BUILDING and realised a few students were still wandering around the campus. you took a deep breath, enjoying the great weather of a breezy monday.

however, the weather felt colder and you began to feel fear, something about chills down your spine. that's when you knew they were coming. "hey, hey, hey, where do you think you're going, sweetie?" the three girls behind her chuckled after she called you that. "tell me," she looked down at you like you were a little kid. "is that how you want riki to call you, mhm?" she smirked while the other girls laughed again.

her name is yoko: an exchange student from japan. of course she protected riki with her heart! she is just his type and talks to her, differently from you. she is cute in the masculine perception, she has that haircut he loves, is good at everything and speaks three languages besides japanese. ━ literally a school queen bee.

"you want to have some fun with us tonight?" yoko placed her arm across your shoulders, abruptly pulling it to look down. "look at this scaredy cat!" she jokes, laughing out loud. "what are ya'll looking at?!" she yells at some students who were watching from afar. sighing, she angrily smiles. "you don't need to go home right now, right?" you keep yourself shut. "right, sweetie?" she pulls your hair and forces you to shake your head. "no, yeah... perfect! i am in a mood to..." she hums, thinking. "massage! ugh, my day was so stressful!" yoko leads you back to school, planning to get her massage done at one of the classrooms.

"Y/N, LISTEN: WHERE ARE YOU?!", "okay, at this point my ice cream is melted, come home!" "never mind, y/n, i don't want ice cream anymore, come home." your sister's voice echoed while you listened to her voicemail. you wondered if she were still awake at this point.

your head hurts and your mascara is ruined. your hands emptied and your legs almost giving up from being on your knees for two long hours. therefore, you called her while walking on the street back home.

"hey..." "Y/N?! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!" "um... i got caught up on some things and-" "IT'S THOSE GIRLS AGAIN, RIGHT?! WHERE ARE YOU?!" "sis," you sigh. "stop. i am almost home." "stop? STOP, Y/N? WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO YOU THIS TIME?! WHAT HAVE-" bep ━ you hang up on her face.

YOU TOOK A DEEP BREATH before unlocking your house's door, silently walking in just to encounter the lights off and a awkward silence creeping you; once you saw the feminine figure walking down the stairs. "y/n?!" your sister whispered yelled, rushing to check on you. "are you okay?" you nod. "what have they done to you this time, oh my god, look at your face!" she tries to rub her thumb against your smudged mascara, but you avoid it. "i'm going up to my room," "no, you-" "let me go!" you snap, tears streaming down your face. "today was a hard day, okay?" you sniff before sprinting to your room, leaving your sister dumbfounded.

"HOW WAS SCHOOL YESTERDAY, SWEETIE?" your grandma asks you while placing a piece of teared bread on your plate. "um... it went fine." "oh, yeah? i was worried about you... i apologise, i slept before you could arrive home, did you eat something?" "oh, yeah." you nod, smiling a little bit.

"liar," your sister murmurs. "what? liar? who?" your grandma questions her behavior, sitting on her chair. "did i say liar?" she chuckles, sitting beside you after taking a sip on her coffee. "i meant air fryer! i need to buy an air fryer..." she address you a deep glance, acting a little thoughtful. "but our oven works just fine, hun'" "oh, yeah, i know," she shrugs. "i was just doing like, um... manifestation...?" "you and that manifestation thing," the old lady laughs.

"um... i should get going by now, i'll be late..." you murmur, standing up from the table still chewing on some bread. "okay, sweetie, take care!" your grandma and your sister wave at you and you finally walk out of your house.

you sigh before checking the time on your phone, making sure you could still get the bus to your school. confirming you were good, you walked to the nearest stop like you always did. you picked up your earphones from your backpack and began to listen to some music, focusing on your own steps, looking down.

feeling calmed down while holding the letter you wrote last light, you recapped your plan, in which: you will try to slip between his locker gaps. and then, you-

"oh, sorry," you bump onto someone's back, interrupting your thoughts. you take off your earphones before replying. "oh, no problem..." your tongue felt dumb for a second when you recognised those hands. those hands belongs to someone you like. someone you love. suddenly, reality check began to hit you, and realising your lover's hand were handing you the letter ━ supposed to be delivered a few hours later ━ you panicked.

"um... it's not mine!" you speak nervously, taking a few steps back while waving your hands. "but- it came out of your- um.. somewhere?" "u-uh... you can j-just throw it in the trash nearby-" "what? no way i am letting this go into the trash, this looks fire!" riki smiles. "you think so...?" "yeah! it's beautiful, man," ━ why did you throw it away yesterday, then?

"oh... but why would you keep it, it's not really necessary..." "why are you so interested on what i am going to do with this letter if it doesn't belongs to you?" riki suddenly speaks up, chuckling at your dropped jaw. he slips the/your letter on his trouser's pocket and nods at the bus ━ that just arrived ━ like he was telling you: let's go. ━ so you enter the vehicle.

you watched riki greet his friends that were already sat on the bus. by somewhat miracle, you were fated to sit beside him. your legs felt like jelly when he looked at you up and down before nodding his head at the empty sit beside the window. it took you a few seconds before walking up to that sit.

uncomfortably is how you felt for riki once he sat beside you, an awkward silence was created and the only thing you were hearing was his friends laughter while the japanese boy murmured something. you felt embarrassed, like you were a rock on their ways. somehow a burden.

"hey," a deep voice echoed close to you. you glance to your side and your eyes meet with riki's. "what happened to your knees?" he nods at your knees once he realised you didn't seemed aware. "you would you look down to my knees?" your crush's face expression changed to a confused one, almost like surprised by your question. "wow, i am not interest on you or in your intimacy, i was just simply curious," he lets out a nasal chuckle, almost like mocking you. "but, never mind, i guess..." you sigh, putting your earphones back, realising you just ruined everything.

IT WAS LUNCH TIME AND you have written your crush a letter while sitting on a toilet at the restroom's stall. you couldn't craft an envelope, so you apologised while thinking about what else to write. with that, while no one was walking by at the hallway, you took the chance to put your plan into action and slip the letter into his locker ━ you also wrote on the letter that you were upset he threw your letter away, giving him a hint you were from his class.

once the bell ringed, you were already at class taking some notes from last class. you saw riki walk in while holding your opened letter. your cheeks felt hotter, your surroundings was forgotten and your eyes locked on him.

feeling the burning sight, riki tries to find who was marking a kiss on his back, meeting his eyes with you for a second, nothing special. however, that was enough to get you all shy and giggly ━ obviously on the inside.

"Y/N! UGH, WHERE IS SHE?!" yoko's scream was heard throughout the halls and your eyes widened once you realised how mad she sounded. "I AM GOING TO KILL THAT BITCH!" once you heard that you started to run, you ignored everything: the growing embarrassment feeling inside of you and the looks people were giving you. "THERE IS THAT WHORE! I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!" she shouts, running towards you. "YOU CAN RUN AS MUCH AS YOU WANT, BITCH!"

while running, you looked back and drew your attention to her. with this little lack of attention, you bumped onto someone, in which you prayed it wasn't riki. however, that smell... that chest... that voice... "shit!" that was riki.

"I PROMISE! SHE DEFAMED ME! that's why i chased her!" you listened yoko complain to the principal. "is that true, miss?" the principal questions you, cocking a brow. you breathed to speak but the japanese girl had other plans. "yes! it is true, mr. yang! she did it!" "yoko, let your colleague answer!" "um... it's not tru-" "STOP LYING, YOU IDIOT!" she yelled. "SHUT UP!" you stood up from your seat. "GIRLS! STOP! YOU TWO WILL BE CLEANING THE SCHOOL AFTER CLASS! DONE!"

"UGH! THIS IS UNFAIR!" you shout. "miss, watch your tone..." the principal threatens. "huh?! watch my tone?" you chuckle, slowly looking at mr. yang with teary eyes. "mr. yang, i think you didn't listen the way she called me an idiot and all the times i've complained about yoko's behaviour towards me! you don't listen!" "enough, y/n! i am calling the person in charge of you." "but-" "NO buts, dismissed," you sigh before walking to the door. "wait, miss y/n, i am keeping an eye on you!" the principal points at you, making your eyes roll with frustration.

once both of you walked off of the principal's office, yoko turned her face at you with a creepy smile. "i am not staying late cleaning this lousy school with you, i hope you know this." she shrugged nodding her head, bumping her shoulder against yours. "oh, and i almost forgot," she slowly turns back to look at you. "if you think you can get riki with those silly, dumb letters, i am afraid that... you might lose him for someone else..." flying you a playful kiss and realising you were in the brim of crying, she laughs out loud, walking away.

and you? you stay, standing there like an dumped idiot. feeling a sense of loneliness and humiliation, your feet felt numb and you fell onto the ground, weak and helpless.

you wanted riki to like you. you really wanted to. however, you knew you were and would never be in his league, that's why you preferred seeing him smile, even though it wasn't at or for you. ━ or, because of you.

your head hurts, sending you a signal of stress. your eyes were completely blinded by the sight of crystal clear hurtful tears, filled with nothing else but embarrassment.

"OH MY GOD! ANOTHER GUM!" you scrunch your nose while cleaning up a desk. "i guess that was mine," a deep voice echoed throughout the empty classroom and your heart dropped. you turned your head back, surprised and nervous. "oh..." "just kidding." riki chuckles, walking in. "will i disturb you if i sit here?" he asks you while sitting down on the chair you always sat on.

you smirk a little, but turn you head as it grew to a big grin. "no..." you murmur, using a wet cloth to wipe some notes written down on the desk. "great," riki sighs while watching you clean the classroom. "need a hand?" you pondered for a second. "sure..." you reply. in a abrupt act, you hear the sound of his wrinkled white school shirt while he stood up, and suddenly he was standing right beside you.

"what can i do to help you then?" "um..." you blink a few times taking a small step back. "you can get that extra cloth and, um... wipe the black board for me?" "yeah," your crush smiles at you, making your heart melt.

a few seconds surviving under a uncomfortable silence, riki speaks up: "where do you live?" ━ don't mess it up this time! "uh... i live close to that supermarket," "which one?" "i think its name is... fresh basket." "really?!" "yeah..." "i live on the street behind fresh basket!" you gasp, turning to look at him dumbfounded. "are you kidding me? how come i haven't seen you anywhere?" you watch him shrug while pouting his lips.

"by the way," he clears his throat, leading his way to sit on the teacher's chair. "are you and yoko in... good terms now?" you notice the hesitance creeping his tone. you sigh and sensing a hint that that wasn't the case, riki adds: "i guess not..."

"do you like her?" you went straight to the point. "what?" "i mean, i don't want to sound invasive but... i am curious," you lean back on one of the desks. "do you like, yoko?" "why?" "i don't know," shrugging, you pick up the mop to clean the floor. "i just think she is your type so... yeah." "fair enough, but, uh..." riki sounded thoughtful, replying: "isn't she like a mean girl or something?" "what do you think?" you ironically answer. "i guess that was an yes, i'll take that, um," he hums, still thinking. "i mean, i don't know where you heard she was my type, so, no, i don't like her." "why do you walk with her then?" ━ rude, y/n!

riki chuckles before sighing. "i am sensing some jealousy, huh?" "what?" you stopped mopping. "why? did i catch you up on a jealousy attack?" he stands up from the chair he was sat on and leans his face closer to yours, analysing you. "you're cute," he giggles, turning his back at you, walking back to the teacher's seat. "you're so cute, y/n, maybe i should start walking with you instead." your crush teases.

"oh, answering your cute jealous question i just walk with that petty bitch because heeseung wants to give her some kisses," he playfully pouts, mocking a peck. "that's all." "heeseung likes her?" "like her? nah, he just wants to get his dick wet," you hum, understanding the situation.

"can i get your number?" "huh?!" you gasp, making riki laugh. "your number!" he displays his hand holding his his phone. "come here, type it," curling his finger while calling you felt intimidating, so you walked up to him and took his phone, finishing mopping and leaving the cleaning tool away; typing your number. "should i save your contact with a heart?" he drops his head to the side, playing with your innocence. "if you want to," you shrug, turning your back at him in a nonchalant act ━ like you weren't dying inside.

"i just sent you an emoji, save my contact, please~" his tone sounded playfully cute. "you want to walk home together since it's late?" you blushed with the thought of walking home side by side with your crush. "uh, sure!" "good."

"HERE YOU GO, YOUR DELICIOUS ice cream," riki hands you an ice cream he insisted buying you since he was used doing it after school. "thank you." "no problem." for the first time a comfortable silence was established, but it didn't last for long since riki started talking.

"you wanna know something stupid i heard a while ago?" "mhm?" "sunghoon told me that, a friend of his, right," you nodded, drawing your attention from your ice cream to riki. "told him that when someone wants to try a drink or whatever once you had already put your mouth in it, it's an indirect kiss," riki chuckles, making you laugh. "stupid, right?" "i mean," you thought for a bit. "i guess it makes sense but... i dunno." you shrug, laughing with your crush for the first time.

"do you live with your mum?" you ask riki. "yeah, my mum, my dad and my two sisters ━ konon and misola." "konon? i heard about her! isn't she the girl who won that talent show a few years ago?" "mhm-hm." he confirms, leading you to complete surprise. "i didn't know, i think talent runs in your bloodline, huh?" you joke. "what do you mean?" "you dance, right?" "how did you know?" he stops with his eyes widen, taking a few steps back from shock. "uh... i thought everyone at school knew...?" his face expression has a sudden change: a big smile that wrinkles his eyes, "i'm just playing with you, everyone knows, you're good."

ARRIVING AT YOUR HOUSE ENTRANCE, no more ice cream and no more subjects to discuss at the moment, riki sighs, stopping in front of your house with his hands inside his pockets. "so... what do you say?" "what do you mean?" you frown. "would you like to walk with us?" your crush looks deeply into your eyes across the classroom. "i don't want you to feel like you have to do this ━ just because-" "hey, i'ts fine," he shakes his head, reassuring you. "the boys won't mind! come on!" "uh, i-i-i think i'll get sick tomorrow!"

"ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS, Y/N? 'i think i'll get sick tomorrow!' ━ YOU DUMBASS! the boy you like asks you if you want to stay with him and his friends and you reply 'i think i'll get sick blah, blah, blah [...]" your sister complains after eating a spoonful of an old ice cream she had in the freezer. "i-i got nervous!" you defend yourself. "y/n... i fear something..." "what do you mean?" your eyes widened a little bit, confused and curious. "i-i fear i am... NOT your sister because i wouldn't be this stupid!" your sister almost spits on your face, standing up from the sofa and walking up to the kitchen.

"what do you mean~?!" you whine. "now i am feeling regret!" "as you should." she looks dead at your eyes, going back to the comfort of the sofa. "but-" "y/n, sit down," you hesitantly sit down beside your sister. "first of all, you shouldn't be whining and crying for me when you could be, at the very least, holding hands with riki next week," she sighs. "second of all, you said you gave him your number, go for it! text him!" she speaks like its obvious. "it's not that easy... "bitch, yoko made it because she is shameless, and you should be too! in a good way ━ of course."

"WHAT SHOULD I TEXT HIM?" you ask your sister. "i think a cake recipe won't be a good idea., y/n," she sarcastically says, shrugging. "what should i text him then?" she snuggles closer to you on your bed. "do you really want to send your crush a cake recipe?" "no!" "exactly, just send an: 'hey', nice and simple." "a 'heeey' or just 'hey'?" "at this point this word already lost its meaning, just send a 'hey', y/n!" she starts to get impatient. "okay, okay!" your sister watches you type something with a certain hesitance, and in a fast move she grabs your phone, stands up from your bed and texts riki.

"HEY!" you stand up, trying to get your phone back. "wow, i sent just that!" she hands you your phone back. "and a few more thin-" "HEY, HOW ARE YOU, HANDSOME?!" "i don't remember sending that..." you throw your phone on your bed and screams with anger, picking up your pillow and forcing your sister's face against it. "Y/N, IT WAS JUST A SILLY TEXT!" "YOU ARE DEAD, Y/S/N!" "Y/N-" ting ━ new notification rings.

"if that's riki, you're dead, y/s/n," you read his text, which were saying: "hey, i'm fine, how about you, cutie?" both of you started screaming as your nosy sister read his text with you. "OH MY GOD! THIS IS CRAZY!" "I KNOW! GRANDMA IS GOING TO WAKE UP WITH OUR SCREAMS!" "I KNOW, I AM SCARED ━ HOW SHOULD I REPLY HIM?" "ASK FOR NUDES!" "OKA- WHAT?!"

THE NEXT DAY YOU WOKE up late. any guesses? you got a little bit carried away while chatting with riki, leading you to a two hour sleep. you were quickly applying some sun screen when you heard something hitting your window.

at first, you ignored, too busy and late to deal with some random noise. but when it repeated, you got a little confused, ignoring the time just to open it, encountering the black haired japanese boy waving at you while smiling ━ your crush.

"what are you doing?!" you frown. "let's go to school, the last bus is almost arriving!" you gasped, spraying some perfumes and leaving without even closing your window. you sprinted to the door, getting your backpack and getting your shoes on in a very clumsy way, making your sister worry. "are you okay?" your sister asks you when she hears the front door opening. you laugh at her outfit before replying ━ her wet hair tied up in a towel, wearing a hot pink robe matching with her neon top and zebra print leggings. "you look amazing and yes i am okay, i am heading out right now." "alright, take ca- OH MY GOD, RIKI IS OUTSI-"

"hi-" "who was that crazy woman who just screamed my name?" you two began to walk side by side to the bus stop. "my sister..." you replied, kind of embarrassed. "she is so cool, does she live with you and your mum?" "she does but i don't live with my mum." "oh? yeah?" sensing your sensitive tone, he doesn't ask much about it. "yeah, i live with my grandma though." "so, you, your sister and your granny?" "mhm-hm." "your family feels welcoming," riki comments, making you smile and blush with the subtle compliment.

"are you hungry?" he asks. "kind of, why?" "here," he takes something out of his pocket and hands to you. "my mum made this biscuits," you took the sugary biscuits. "really?" he hums, confirming, adding: "once i commented about you, she freaked out ━ in a good way, saying she should make something for you." you giggled before replying. "thank her for me," you smile. "she'll be even happier if you ate them..." he hums and you take his sign, unlacing the little bow sealing the small plastic bag holding those sugary godness. "oh my god... it tastes so good, it's delicious!" your eyes widened. "i know." riki playfully brags, bumping his shoulder with yours while smiling.

arriving at the bus stop, you and riki quickly got inside the bus; and since both of you were late, riki's friend weren't there.

riki had to occupy the seat in front of you since both seats beside the window were occupied by two random strangers. thankfully, your relationship with your crush become comfortable overnight, leading to a certain intimacy. with that being said, riki was quick to sit and turn to look at you. but not just turning his head, but his whole body ━ his knees supported by the seat while both of his arms were crossed, laying on the upper part of it. and, of course, his face was just smiling at you. that youthful feeling of a first love began to creepy the corner of your lips, leading to a small grin and a flustered face.

"why? did i make you shy?" he asks. "you're embarrassing me!" you whisper-yell, discreetly nodding at the two strangers ━ giving both of you a confused, amused, yet, dirty look. "sit down!" "why~?" he whines, but you manage to make him seat ━ earning a pouty riki for the rest of the ride.

DURING THE RIDE YOU REMEMBERED last night, while talking with your crush on the phone, you wrote a letter to send him. this time, you were talking about the sound of his voice and how kind you thought he were, trying your best to not give him the hint it was completely and definitely you. because, even though riki seemed the popular, desired, careless japanese boy from school, you knew he is and was intelligent. wise enough to quickly find out about you in a blink of an eye.

"hey, wanna stop writing a little and grab lunch with us?" you stop writing something down on your notebook to look up at the familiar deep voice calling you. "um... maybe later, i'll finish this real quick and i'll catch up with you-" "ey~, come on... uh..." the aussie boy standing beside riki starts speaking, but suddenly stops. however, his friend saves him by whispering something in his ear. "y/n! yeah, come on, y/n! come with us!" you blink a few times, an awkward and painful silence creeping you and the four boys in front of you.

your crush coughs before breaking the awkwardness: "let's go, y/n, otherwise you'll miss lunch like you always do." "how did you...?" you question him and yourself, trying to find how he discovered that. he pulls you from your seat by your hand in a gentle way, placing his arm across your shoulders, attempting to make you more comfortable; and less of a burden ━ since you showed signs of being a over thinker.

"you have a beautiful handwriting i might say," riki comments and you look back, checking if the other boys were there. "oh, thanks." you innocently thank him, smiling. you notice how your crush's smile looked so big and mischievous, mysteriously hiding something. "what?" "mhm? what's what?" "whats up with that grin?" his face shuts. "uh, what grin?" in a cartoonish way, he frowns, mocking an angry face. "weren't going to get sick today?" "stop making fun of me!" you turn your face to avoid his, acting like a child. you pouted while listening to his laughter.

AFTER SITTING DOWN ON A table with riki's friend group, everyone was silent, and riki, noticing your shyness, he nudges heeseung so he can say something to break the ice ━ in which he whispered an: "i gotchu". "soooo... you are close to yoko, y/n...?" "oh my god..." the japanese boy covers his face, taking a deep breath. "what?! i'm just asking my friend something over here!" his friend argues. "sooo?" "um..." "'y/n," riki speaks up. "you don't need to answer this little bitch" he gives heeseung a dirty look. "━ he's being inconvenient right no-"

"no, it's okay, 'ki," you waved your hand. "he didn't know," heeseung glanced at his friend with widened eyes, bumping his shoulder against his, like he just said: "told you so!" "me and yoko we are close" the boy's eyes almost fell off of his face this time. "but" his happy expression dropped. "not in a good way..." you explain. "not in a good way?" he cocks a brow. "yeah..." "how come?" "i-"

"riki~!" that annoying, feminine, high pitched voice echoed all across the lunch room, walking closer to the table and standing behind riki ━ one of her hand placed on her hip. "oh... yoko..." riki's, sunghoon's and jaeyun's face dropped, except fro heeseung. "hi, heeseung!" she waved just her fingers at him in a flirtatious way. "and- oh? y/n?" yoko cocked a brow at the sight of you sitting across the four handsome boys. "what are you doing here?" "she-" "shush, jaeyun! i am asking her!" jaeyun scoffs at her rudeness. "i thought you guys weren't into that charity thing, but... seems pity wins sometimes,"

"stop, yoko." riki pissed off voice spoke up, looking at her with indifference. "what? can't a pretty girl say an ugly truth?" she shrugged and hearing her say that made you feel small. riki sighed before standing up from his seat and picking up your hand. "let's get out of here," the boys were just about to stand up and follow both of you, but riki gently stopped them. "just me and you." he murmured, noticing your vulnerability increasing.

all of the sudden, when you were just about to walk away with riki, yoko began to clap her hands ━ loudly ━ and laugh like she just watched an comedy movie. "don't make me laugh, riki!" yoko's eyes were burning the japanese's boy eyes. she took a step closer to him and whispered for the two of you to hear: "is she my replacement?" she laughed out loud again and at that point, everyone present in the room had their eyes on the three of you, internally fighting. yoko turned, taking a few step forward before dropping her head down ;and turn back with her head cocked to the side. "let's just-" riki tries to speak, but gets interrupted by you ━ pulling his hand to stay.

"i am sorry, y/n," she speaks seriously. "i am sorry, riki; and i am sorry to everyone in this room, but," in a creepy, yet, discreet way he picks up a pen she always kept on the little pocket sewn on her shirt. "there is no room for a replacement here." out of nowhere she screams and starts to chase both of you with a pen but yoko was quickly stopped by jaeyun and sunghoon, while heeseung went to call someone to calm her down.

meanwhile, you and riki ran to the terrace: not just because of yoko but to relax together. "SHIT, Y/N, WHY DID YOU HELD US THERE?!" your crush snaps at you once both of you reached the parapet and took a deep breath. "i-i... we would be fine! it was just a pen-" "JUST A PEN?!" he scoffs. "that shit can kill you if it hits a fucking vital point!" you sigh, way too overwhelmed to deal with his shouting and complains.

"yoko is crazy, you should've known better than anyone!" "i'm sorry..." you murmur, avoiding his angry glance at you. "that shit scared the fuck out of me!" "sorry... i am sorry! sorry!" you snap, falling onto the harsh ground made of hard concrete. noticing your sudden change, riki immediately falls onto the ground with you.

"oh shit, i'm sorry... sorry, y/n, i-i" he exhales. "i got nervous that's all-" "DO YOU THINK I DIDN'T GET NERVOUS TOO?!" you yell, frustrated. "no one has ever understood me! never..." your voice weakens and riki felt guilt flooding his heart. regret hitting his chest a billion times non-stop. "i am sorry. fuck, i'm sorry i hurt you..." "why does people apologise without meaning it?" you glance at him with an exasperated frown. "i mean it! i am not 'people'," he says. "trust me, y/n, i am truly sorry." he emphasises. "fuck it, i can't handle seeing you cry, come here," he embraces you and pulls you closer ━ your face snuggled onto his chest while your body remains half laid.

he holds your face with care and rubs his thumb against your shaky shoulder from small sobs. you start to wonder why he is being so gentle with you. like, one day he didn't even know you existed or looked in your eyes, and in the next day he is reciprocating.

noticing your silence, riki questions: "over thinking?" his voice hit you all of a sudden, making you slightly jump. "no, just-" you sigh. "yeah... how did you know...?" you let out a small chuckle. "you stop blinking when you start your trance." riki pinches your nose and you scrunch it, rejecting his action.

"what were you thinking about?" "mhm... us." "us?" "yes, us," "and 'us' is good or bad?" you feel his long fingered hands play with your hair. "i am not sure..." you pout. "wanna share?" "it's just that-" you kiss your teeth and fidgets with your fingers, conflicting with your own thoughts. "why are you being so gentle with me, riki?" you adjust your posture and look up at him. "all of the sudden?" "i mean," you sit up, interrupting your hair from being caressed. "you were the one treating me some type of way all of the sudden." you argue.

riki thinks and then shrugs. "i am not sure what this is supposed to me-" "what i mean is that: one day you don't even look at me and the other day we are literally cuddling on the ground!" riki and you became silent.

"i have never ignored you if that's what you mean," "eh?" you frown, scoffing as you were mocking his lie. "you're funny, riki; very funny..." you roll your eyes, avoiding his eyes. the japanese boy sits closer to you, pulling your face to meet your eyes with his. "first of all," he looks away from you after making sure you were paying attention to him. "i have looked at you a few- no, lots of times, but, you were too busy taking notes on that stupid notebook of yours." he chuckles. "also, i haven't seen you at parties so it was difficult to talk to you,"

"you could've just talk to me at class..." you murmur. "i tried! but every single time i tried to develop a deep conversation with you, you were always giving me short and dry answers! i thought you didn't like me!" "who said i like you?!" "do you hate me?" you hummed, like you were thinking about it, clearly teasing him. "you do?!" he made an angry face, speaking between clutched teeth. "okay, okay! yeah- i mean, no!" "you!" you stood up and began to run from riki while he chased you across the whole terrace.

"my ankle hurt, wait!" he complains, whining while holding his ankle. you stop for a second to look back at him, however, knowing his playful personality, you didn't believe him. "stop being a cry baby!" noticing he wasn't laughing a little bit but moaning in pain instead, you walk closer to him. "are you really hurt...?" "it really hurts..." when you were just about to gently place your hand on his shoulder, your action was interrupted by his hand holding yours. "just kidding!" and he holds you into a tight embrace. "let me go!" "lemme see... no, i won't!" "let me-"

"what is that?" you frown, confused. "mhm? what?" you began to look around, trying to find something. "that," he nods at the ground once you glanced back at him. your letter. the letter you wrote earlier on the ground in front of your crush, quite literally revealing it was you; who wrote those previous letters. you sigh trying to get an excuse. "what? a piece of paper?" "isn't that fancy envelope i saw that day?" he reefers to that day in which you bumped onto him. "uh... i don't think so..." you shrug, trying to act nonchalant.

riki free you just to pick up the letter from the ground, ignoring your reply. "strange, isn't it like these envelopes are seeking us?" he drops his head to the side, holding the letter. "should i open it?" your eyes widen discreetly. "no!" noticing your exaltation, riki frowns. "why is that?" "because... because what if it is something important?! like a secret or a..." you try to think, tensing your shoulders as you did so. "love letter...?" you shrug, relaxing your shoulders once riki's chuckle reaches your earbuds.

"so... i can't read it then because it can be an love letter?" your crush raises his brows. "um... yeah?" you shrug once again, trying to convince him to leave it alone. "okay," he pouts his lips, handing you the letter. "so, i won't read it," he surrenders himself, but then crosses his arms like an bad boy. "but you will; read it for me." riki sits on the ground, his eyes not leaving you. "we should get back to-" "no, you'll read it for me," he keeps a dead serious face. "now."

he notices how nervous you were looking. the way your fingers were clutching to the paper, slightly crumpling the harsh paper used to craft that beautiful envelope. "y/n," riki's voice wakes you up from your trance. "read it, please?" he kindly asks you this time, making you feel less intimidated. "o-okay..." you peel the small piece of tape you have glued just yesterday, hoping it was your crush ━ poor past y/n. and then, you open the letter and slips the letter out of the envelope, resting the letter above it. you unfold the folded paper and cleans your throat before reading it.

you did a quick read to the letter and remembered that you have mentioned his name many times, so you had to make up something up before reading the first paragraph.

❝ 𝒟ear, Mr. Kim,

I love your laugh. It's like music that heals the soul and guides me to you. I love how kind and playful you can be, it makes me wonder if I will ever be able to make you as happy as you make me. I know I will never be enough, so just read my words of love. I don't need your touch if it's not well deserved ━ ironic for wanting you completely. I like to use poetry as my main source of writing, because I know you don't understand much about literature ━ much less understand my feelings. Not because they are complex, but because they are too distant to ever be discovered by you. All of this may sound painful, and no matter how painful it is, I will be able to survive as long as I can see your smile.

The thought of having you in my life feels so right, like heaven and angels. But, when I remember of my surroundings and situation, feels like dreams not yet dreamed of, printed poetry, handwritten newspapers, silent parrots and talkative owners ━ in other words: one in a billion chance to be compatible.

However, remember me. Don't ever leave me. You don't have me, but it doesn't mean I can't have you, right?

𝒜nonimously in love with you.❞

"wow..." riki began to clap with star eyes looking at you. "so what you just read is a love letter to our... gym teacher?!" he stands up to analyse the letter, but you quickly avoid him from seeing his name written. "hey! i told you you can't read it!" "okay, okay..." he sighs. "do you really want to go back to class?" "i guess," you shrug, keeping the letter inside the pocket of your wool jacket. "wait! no, we won't! look at the sunset!"

"WHERE WERE YOU GUYS?! KISSING?" heeseung asks and sunghoon bumps his shoulders against his, disapproving his question. "yeah, we were," riki says. "wait, WHAT?!" sunghoon suddenly shouts. "yeah, WHAT?!" jaeyun is the next one to shout. "i told you two!" heeseung mock his friends dropped jaw. "give me my $50's, jaeyun!"

"you and jaeyun seriously made a deal if we had kissed?" "of course!" heeseung replied as it was obvious, taking the $50 from jaeyun's hand. "okay, heeseung give it back to him, no lips were touched," riki shakes his head. "HA!" sunghoon mocks his friends with a loud chuckle, making you giggle. "aw man... i just wanted $50 dollars..." "no money for you, idiot!"

A FEW WEEKS HAVE PASSED by. you and riki became even closer and you might admit you fell even more in love with him. if you had a crush on him back then, now you have a whole fantasy of your future with him. talking about relationships, by getting closer to your secret lover, you also got closer to his friends. if you think this doesn't means shit, oh, it does! after heeseung learned about yoko's shitty personality, he dumped her immediately, feeling an extreme sense of empathy for you ━ not in a romantic way.

also, thankfully, somehow, that day yoko freaked out chasing you and riki with a pen was recorded and leaked. with that being said, she probably got embarrassed and wasn't attending school anymore. another important information is that, by getting closer to your crush, you also got closer to his friends. if you think this doesn't means shit, oh, it does! after heeseung learned about yoko's shitty personality, he dumped her immediately, feeling an extreme sense of empathy for you ━ not in a romantic way.

now, you were at your room texting riki about what you had just ate as a midnight snack. then, you sat on your desk to get some work done for the next week. however, a hard object hit your window and your heart was saying something like: it's riki, it's riki, it's riki; but your mind was saying something like: it's nothing, it's nothing, it's nothing.

however, when the object hit your window again, so you opened the curtains and then your window, now confirming: it is definitely riki. "why didn't you answered me right away?" you sighed. "ki, it's literally 3 am in a saturday! and i am a woman, i can't just open my window in the middle of the night." "fair enough," he shrugs, agreeing.

when riki was just about to shout again, you stopped him, gesturing a stop sign with your hand, making him wait. you picked your phone up and pointed to it, mouthing: phone! text! ━ in which he nodded, gesturing an 'okay' with his fingers and then picking up his phone.

he texted: 'wanna sneak out?' ━ you shook your head in response, looking at him from your window. he snorted, frustrated. and then nodded to you ━ your phone. 'can i come in, then? i want to see you...' ━ returning your sight to the japanese pouty boy. you sighed, biting onto your bottom lip before nodding and closing your window.

you were just about to open your front door when another text from riki popped: 'why did you close the window? let me in! i am prepared!!!!!' ━ riki, you-

you sprinted to your bedroom and opened your window, leaving your door opened, worried. he knocked on the glass a few times after seeing you, patiently waiting while holding onto a random ladder. "did you really just brought a whole fucking ladder?" you question him with shock. "of course not," he scoffs like it was obvious. "so... whose ladder is that?" you squint your eyes. "neighbour." "riki!"

"whaaat now?" he whines, laying on your bed, occupying the whole bed. "you and your huge ass body just occupying my whole fucking bed, scooch over!" he groans before rolling onto the other side. "you're annoying..." he murmurs with a muffled voice. "but you love me," "but i love you, you're right," he lays on his back, glancing at you. "that's why you are annoying~" he whines, rolling onto his side, pulling you closer to him by your waist.

"y/n are you awa-AAAAH! WHAT THE FUCK IS HE DOING HERE?!" your sister walks in your room while riki tried to pull you closer to you, attempting to cuddle with you. "AND WHY-" she closes her eyes shut, trying to wake up from that fever dream.

you stand up from the bed and takes her hand, pulling her to talk outside of your room. you close the door behind you while your sister's eyes stayed shut. "tell me, god, am i dreaming? what the fuck did i just saw?" you sigh, squinting your eyes at your sister's childish like behaviour.

"open your fucking eyes, y/s/n," "is this the devil? is this god? i don't even know anymore! i'm going crazy..." "open your eyes!" you whispered-yell, trying to avoid waking up your grandma ━ even though she is a deep sleeper. "okay, sorry," she finally opens her eyes and stays quiet.

"what were you going to ask me?" "so we are going to ignore what just happened? what i just walked in?" "why do you got to be so nosy?" you ask her and she looked at you, offended. "why? you're pissed off because i happened to walk in while you were trying to kiss the love of your li-" "SHUT!" you cover her mouth. "he's going to hear!"

she is strong enough to take your hand off her mouth, whispering: "i'll leave you alone with him." she smirks and then winks at you, going back to her room. you rolled your eyes once she reached the door of her bedroom and sent you a flying kiss, mouthing: "use protection!"

you went back to your room and closed the door, locking it. you slowly turned around, embarrassed. "good job, y/n! forgetting about the first rule of the hundred of 'sneaking in' rules! 'inside version' because you live here, so-" "shut up," you sigh, laying on bed with him. "yes, ma'am." a minute of silence formed, but riki quickly broke it. "can we cuddle now? i am dying to- uh... cuddle, yeah..." you strange his behaviour but, obviously, agrees.

enjoying being the little spoon, you remained completely silent, loving the way his wide arms were around you and his hands rubbing your back. the warmth exhaling from his covered chest felt like you had the world keeping you close.

"y/n?" his voice echoes and you hum. "mhm?" "do you like... writing letters?"

© 𝓪𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝓮, 𝗺𝗹𝘆𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗮 𝗌𝓽𝓾𝖽𝗂𝗈𝓼. ⋆

[lilbunnis]

❛ ♡. header credit. ⎯⎯ 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲. ❜

★ ⎯⎯ aemond targaryen has always wanted someone as his own; and with him already having claimed his vicious mount vhagar, the queen of dragons herself--- what is there to stop him from claiming you, too?

author’s note᛬ heey! 🍓 so……this is my second time posting this particular story--- however, it was a long time ago & someone anonymously requested to read it again. happily, i offered to repost it for them (with the exception that i re-edit it since my style of writing has changed / improved!) … anyways, reblogs & comments are deeply appreciated. ♡ + both aemond & reader are equally unhinged. <3 mwuah !

warnings᛬ mdni! smut, dubcon [kind of… but trust me, it’s wanted], dark!aemond, profanity, she/her pronouns, afab reader, innocence kink, corruption kink, coercion, manipulation, pussy whipped!aemond, breeding kink, cunnilingus, fingering, obsessive & possessive behavior, pet names, romance, fluff. any grammatical errors are my own--- in advance, i sincerely apologize.

word count᛬ 2.5k

𝐎𝐇, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝑭𝑶𝑹 𝒀𝑶𝑼, 𝐈’𝐃 𝐃𝐎 𝑨𝑵𝒀𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑮.

aemond targaryen has always thought of her as his--- his to protect, his to care for, his to love; ever since he’d met her, he surrounded himself in her feminine presence, around her sweetness and innocence, keeping her close by and never letting her trail very far out of his sight.

unless, of course, it was absolutely necessary, and even then, he’d have one of his most trustworthy guards (loyal only to him) follow her around all day--- discreetly, of course.

however, during their short time apart, the one-eyed prince would be on constant edge; irritable and in a foul mood throughout the time that they were apart, not being able to trust anyone to truly protect his lady the way he knew he could.

oh, how he missed his dearly beloved so--- so much so, that the wayward prince was known for his brutal lashings and merciless beheadings (all a gift to his love) to all of those who merely breathed the wrong way in his proximity.

or simply, sweet gifts of pretty, sparkling sapphires and pearls.

still, he knew that she thought his temper and rage was charming, as she had once told him in that sweet, gentle little voice of hers, soothing his fiery temper as if she were the maiden reborn.

like his own little angel, so delicate, tender-hearted and mine, aemond thought.

sometimes, most of the time, aemond would just simply gaze at her, at her beauty, longingly; like she was the center of the universe and held all of the twinkling stars in the night sky.

most people wouldn’t dare to believe such a thing, but aemond thought it was cute when she learned something new in philosophy, excitedly wanting to share the new knowledge she’d learned from her septa with him--- even if he already knew, just to be able to listen to her sweet, angelic voice.

oh, and on those simple days, content to just listen to her babbling on about whichever subject she deemed of interest; he would lovingly hand feed her fresh strawberries, one by one; the ripest, juiciest and sweetest ones, listening as she breathily moaned in content as each one entered her pouty mouth.

meanwhile, as his little darling continued on about whichever subject interested her at the moment; the one-eyed prince watched in delight as the red juices dribbled down her chin, allowing him to quickly swoop in and kiss it delicately away, causing him to hum in content at the sweet taste.

whether it be from the strawberries themselves or the sweet taste of her skin, it mattered not to the prince--- because the next moment, he would drop to his knees and feast on her delicious, drooling cunt; burying himself right beneath her fluffy skirts as he heard her girlishly moan and whimper for him, as he continued enjoying the taste of her maidenhood.

on lazy days, the prince will sit with her in his lap, one of his strong, lean arms wrapped snugly around her waist, most protectively; meanwhile, his free hand would slip beneath her fluffy skirts and play with her virgin, soaking cunt, teasingly stroking his long, calloused fingers through her wet, puffy folds.

seven above, and the sounds of her soft, breathy little moans, almost luring him to bend her right over the wooden table in the back of the library and rut into her like some wild, depraved beast, claiming her maidenhead as his.

‘twas almost too much to bear for the prince, knowing she was already his in body, mind, heart and soul.

he always imagined what she must taste like that day, right before he would feast on her cunny, almost to tease himself--- like freshly baked sweet tarts, spoonfuls of honey, strawberries…

late at night, while in the privacy of his own chambers, he’d furiously fuck his fist to the thought of burying his face between her smooth thighs once again, wanting nothing more than to taste and fuck her cunt with his tongue greedily; before he’d come so fucking hard in his hand, his seed coating the skin of his taut abdomen and dripping down his fingers--- sticky and messy and entirely spent.

sighing heavily, aemond would barely resist the temptation to exit his chambers and go straight to hers, knowing she’d welcome him with an open heart and open legs.

…fuck, what a waste of his seed, he thinks, for he could’ve pumped her empty womb full of his seed; fuck load after load inside of her, and come by morning, she would already be carrying his son in her belly.

rightfully so; she’s be so beautiful, so fragile, so obedient, a perfect little wife she’d be for him, indeed.

meanwhile, back in the library, aemond would continue teasing her little cunny, occasionally dipping the very tips of his fingertips into her little virgin fuck-hole, feeling how fucking tight she was for him, causing him to harden almost painfully inside of his leather breeches, right below her squirming, little ass.

like his very own wanton, silk street whore.

she continued to moan and whimper repeatedly; making him gently shush her with delicate kisses across her neck, spreading her dripping arousal all around her swollen bud, hearing her mewl his name like a prayer and grip the polished library table forcibly, watching her blissed-out face until she came all over his fingers.

when he made her come so hard with just playing with her little bundle of nerves, he had to slap a hand over her mouth to muffle her cries of pleasure and whisper sweet praises into her ear, knowing how sensitive and needy she was in his arms, just after coming down from her peak and making her come so hard on his fingers.

of course, the more time he spent with her, the harder it was to resist her--- and so, most nights, when aemond could no longer resist being away from her; the need to see her being just too much for him to bear any longer, he’d eagerly seek her out, knowing she’d be in her chambers, awaiting his arrival.

just as eager and wanton as he was, it seemed.

smirking, aemond chuckled softly, embracing her; “my sweetest, my darling, my little love--- fuck, i have missed you.”

he couldn’t control himself anymore, he needed to see her, to be with her, to have her.

always.

specifically, in the late hours of the night, wanting to be as close to her as physically possible; fuck, he loved her so much, he didn’t ever want her to doubt his love for her--- he stripped them both of their evening clothes, his amethyst eye dilated and wild at the sight of her nude form.

during those private evenings, aemond had convinced her for him to claim her as his… fully, in the ways only a man could claim a woman.

with his persuasion, his silver tongue easily convinced her into saying yes; causing him to release a purr and claim her body multiple times that night, until she was a shaking, sobbing and sweaty mess beneath him, full of loads of his seed, while he held her tightly against him in his arms--- possessively.

uncaringly, the prince left all sorts of love marks all across her skin, kissing every inch of her soft, glistening skin that he could reach, suckling on her swollen, puffy nipples, knowing her plush breasts would soon grow heavy with milk for their many babes that’d come someday soon.

selfishly, just maybe; he could persuade his little darling for a taste for himself--- fucking hells, he couldn’t wait for her to grow round and fat with his sons!

insatiably, he would fuck his already hardening, leaking cock back inside of her sopping cunt, his and her own moans of pure love and ecstasy echoing off of the walls of her chambers.

however, even with all of the bliss and pleasure and love; still came her doubts and worries.

his sweet lady, his precious love, his only girl--- was utterly terrified of someone finding out about their affair.

however, the fearsome, bloodthirsty dragon prince would always reassure her; whispering sweet words of his love and devotion into her ears, calming her by kissing her love-marked skin before he would fuck her squelching cunt once again with his cock, ploughing into her mercilessly, filling her with another load of his seed, until tears would stream down her blushy cheeks.

unable to stop herself, she’d let out the most feminine moans for him, not being able to control her sweet mewls from escaping her kiss-swollen lips, sobbing out deliriously as he continuously fucked her ruthlessly, uncaring of who heard them; for the one-eyed prince was too addicted to the taste of her and the pretty, precious sounds she made just for him.

it wouldn’t matter anyway, if anyone were to find out about their love affair--- aemond genuinely honestly couldn’t give a fuck if someone were to tell her lord father that her maidenhead was claimed by him anyone.

if anyone would dare to question his lady’s virtue or purity, he would cut out their tongues, before mercilessly killing them and feed their mutilated corpse to his mighty beast, vhagar.

aemond had always been a possessive man, especially when it concerned his sweet little lady, to the point that most of the noble lords and ladies of the court started to take notice; however, the fearsome prince paid them little attention--- nowadays, his only concern in life was his darling little bride.

some days, when the weather was warm enough and the sun was shining brightly, aemond would take his lady on long walks around the red keep’s royal gardens, right after he finished his morning training session with ser criston.

as always, it was just the two of them, together; and while he watched her instead of admiring the pretty flowers that she seemed so smitten by, he couldn’t stop the tiny grin from spreading across his face at just the mere sight of her.

her, her, her.

his--- his lady, his woman, his wife.

there was a secret, hidden alcove surrounded by various cherry trees and gorgeous pink peonies, which aemond would often bring her to visit; it was almost as if it was their special spot.

then, without warning, aemond would gently press her back up against one of the trunks of the pretty, blossoming cherry trees, kissing her so sweetly, so passionately, so tenderly; it made her swoon and see constellations on the backs of her fluttering eyelids.

“marry me.”

suddenly, she felt as if her heart had suddenly stopped beating and she felt rather faint--- for a moment, her heart felt as if it had skipped several beats, because surely… her sweet aemond did not just ask the impossible of her?

again, aemond spoke.

“marry me,” he murmured against her soft, perfumed skin (that smelled of the lavender oils they’d previously bathed in that morning together) trailing open-mouthed kisses along her sensitive neck, causing a breathy whimper to escape her pretty, pouty lips.

instantly, aemond’s ears had perked up to the sound of her breathing that was quickening, his large hands roaming and grasping at her sides as if to soothe her sudden panic, enjoying the feeling of her womanly curves against his big hands, even through the silk fabric of her pretty, sapphire colored dress.

“hmm…no,” she drawled lazily, though her sweet voice was teasing, “—my father is suspicious enough already about all of the rumors going on about us…he doesn't ask, of course; i’m afraid it’s because he is too frightened of you,” she giggled softly, batting her long eyelashes up at the handsome prince.

aemond smirked, amused by his little darling.

“besides,” she continued softly, her usual sweetened voice saddened and aemond watched as his lady’s heart was visibly breaking right before his own eye, “—my father… he will arrange a betrothal for me soon and i must do my duty, as is expected of me,” she whispered, while gently twirling a few strands of her lover’s long silvery hair around one of her fingers, her face sullen--- like a little girl having her favorite treat taken away from her.

aemond hummed; a soft, dangerous sound as his face remained stoic, not displaying a single emotion that he was currently feeling--- his natural-born eye on the other hand…was a raging storm of a dark, angry violet, screaming promises of fire and blood.

“that'll never happen,” aemond murmured softly, his voice a raspy baritone, completely unbothered, “—if your father even dares to try and take you away from me, he'll suffer a most painful death; i assure you, my sweet lady.”

her heart fluttered, both of her cheeks heating up and her head began to feel fuzzy, a dreamy expression forming on her pretty face; though she wasn’t sure if it was from the warm weather or by his loving, murderous words.

“you're so sweet,” she cooed dreamily, smiling up at him as she wrapped both of her arms around his neck loosely, her fingers gently brushing through more of his long silvery hair, feeling how silky-smooth the strands were--- curtsey of the queen, his darling mother; a sweet gift of scented oils she had gotten for her favorite son all the way from pentos.

“only for you, my beloved,” the prince promised, tenderly brushing his knuckles along one of her rosy cheeks, bending down towards her shorter height and capturing her rouge-stained lips in a sweet, deeply passionate kiss--- a deep, throaty sound of lust escaping from him.

ah, she tastes of the sweetest of innocence and strawberries.

his favorite.

‘twas as if the prince could never get enough of her taste, of her.

sweetly, she releases a little whine, high-pitched and so needy for him; the sweetness of a poisonous kiss--- oh, how he wants to love her forever and bathe in all of the glorious love she had to offer him.

gods, he loved her… only, only, only her.

“my angel, so soft and pure, so innocent; and your precious heart… it is mine,” he growled, deepening the kiss against her lips--- his large, warm and calloused hands began trailing down to cup her sweet, little ass through her skirts, bundling the silky, sapphire colored fabric in his greedy hands to fondle and squeeze the soft flesh of her asscheeks; pinching and clutching possessively.

grinning wolfishly, aemond trailed his open-mouthed kisses down her delicate neck, suckling freshly new love marks into her fading, bruised skin--- all across her neck, jawline, collarbones and the very tops of her soft, perky breasts.

“marry me,” he asked once again, sounding impatient, though he wouldn’t mind begging, if it only meant claiming her for himself.

she wrapped her arms around his neck more snugly, standing on the tips of her toes to kiss him sweetly, all across his chin and the corners of his mouth, feeling his hands roam freely all over her once more before settling still, giving her backside a loving squeeze.

“be my wife,” he pleads once more, his tone of voice more desperate than ever before, sweet as sugar and the burning flesh of corpses.

she released a small sigh, moving closer just slightly so that she could brush her saliva-coated lips softly against his own, “yes,” she breathed lovingly, feeling as he visibly shuddered against her just from her mere acceptance of his begging proposal.

“i’ve always been yours.”

fin.

[megthemariner]

Rook Origins Prompts

Mercar

1. Was Rook born in Ventus? How did they end up in a battlefield as a baby? If this wasn’t how the Mercars found them, how did Rook end up being adopted by the Mercar family?

2. What is life like for Rook growing up? Do they like/love their adopted family? Do they even know they’re adopted? How do the Mercars treat them? Do they have any siblings?

3. For Mage Rooks, when is their magic discovered? What is their training like? Do they specialise in any type of magic, or further any research into magical theory? Are they interested in climbing the ranks of the Magisterium?

(3a) Do they enjoy the status and power given to mages? Does it make them uncomfortable? Is it normalised to them, as it’s how things are in Tevinter?

4. For rogue/warrior Rooks, what drew them to their preferred method of fighting? Do they like fighting? Was their father involved in their training? If not, how were they trained?

(4a) Was there an expectation that Rook would become a soldier, since their adopted father is a high-ranking Commander? Did Rook join the army? Did they want to? If they didn’t, how did their adopted father/family react?

5. Were the Mercars living in Ventus in/around 9:44 Dragon when the Qunari/Antaam invaded? Was Commander Mercar still an acting member of the military there? If so, what happened to them? If Rook wasn’t in Ventus at the time, when did they hear about it? How do they feel about Ventus being captured?

6. What caused Rook to see slavery as something that needs to end? Did the Mercar family have slaves? If so, does Rook start there, and convince the Mercars to free their slaves/pay them as servants? If not, what caused the Mercar family as a whole to break from Tevinter’s status quo and pay servants/free their slaves?

7. How did Rook first learn about the Shadow Dragons? Did they join a cell in Ventus, or find them in Minrathous? When did they join? What did that entail? Does their family know they’re part of the Shadow Dragons, or do they keep it as anonymous/secret as possible?

8. What was Rook’s first job or operation with the Shadow Dragons? Was it a solo job, or part of a bigger team? Was it successful?

9. Does Rook have a ‘day job’? If so, what is it? Does it help the Shadow Dragons, or is it just to keep up appearances/make enough money to make ends meet?

10. How involved does Rook become with the Shadow Dragons? Does this change over time? Do they move cities, stop using the Mercar name, or make any other efforts to hide their identity? If so, do they do this to protect the Shadow Dragons, the Mercar family, or both? Is it required of them as they get more involved in Shadow Dragon operations?

11. How does Rook end up with the Nessus job? Why are they chosen to “guard a visiting dignitary”? Who is the dignitary? Are they a secret member of the Shadow Dragons? If not, how did Rook get the dignitary’s cooperation while they went “deep into Venatori-controlled zones and brought him back, along with the rescued slaves”?

(11a) What led Rook to conclude that “the mission would fail without throwing caution to the wind”? What was their mission? Was it always the plan to free the slaves in the slavery ring in Nessus? If so, what would have caused the mission to fail? Has Rook always been the type to be bold and take chances, or was this new for them?

12. When Rook learns that the Nessus job brought attention to them (and the Shadow Dragons), how did they feel? What repercussions did this have, for them personally and/or the Shadow Dragons as a whole? Did they regret any of their actions? Were they told to leave for a while, did they volunteer, or was it a group decision? How did they feel about leaving?

13. Was Varric involved in the Nessus job in some way? If not, how does Rook meet him? Do they become part of the team to stop Solas right away, or does it take some time for Varric & Harding to fill them in?

14. Does Rook like travelling with Varric & Harding? What do they think of each? What do they think of the mission to stop Solas? Were they worried about returning to Minrathous as part of the mission?

———

For use as writing prompts, as an ask game, etc! Enjoy fleshing out your Rook's origin!

Ingellvar | de Riva | Thorne | Aldwir | Laidir