#omg i don't like this page :P

[taintedcigs]

so i decided to log in after not being on here for some time... and the first thing i see is someone replying to my fics and complaining about my writing lmao yuck... if you don't like my writing pls do not read! there is a difference bw helpful advice/criticism and just straight up being mean </3

[cutielando]

love in a bakery | m.s.

social media au

synopsis: in which Mick falls in love with a baker

my masterlist

liked by mickschumacher, francisca.cgomes and 103,594 others

yourusername ahhhh!!!! a dream come true!!! my very own bakery, my dream ever since i was a little girl!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

view all 29,184 comments

francisca.cgomes sooooo proud of you babe❤️❤️❤️

yourusername ugh i love you !!😭😭

mickschumacher seeing you in your element has been my favorite thing to see. forever proud of you, liebling❤️

yourusername i love you mickie 🩵

mickschumacher i love you more

user1 YES FINALLY!!!!

user2 half of her sales are gonna be generated by me🫠🫠🫠🫠

user3 i just went there this morning!!!!🤭🤭

user4 OMG HOW WAS IT?????

user3 ugh she's so sweet. her pastries are the best thing i've ever tasted. it was packed even this morning, but she took time to make small talk with every single customer and was overall really nice and thoughtful🫣❤️

user5 was Mick at the opening?

yourusername he was!! albeit very hidden away because he "didn't want to steal the spotlight away from me", but he was there!!🥰

user5 we love a supporting Mick🥹🥹

user6 is it normal to feel jealous of Mick for bagging her?

mickschumacher yes.

user6 BAHAHAHAHA MICK

landonorris where is my package? 😔

yourusername almost finished, slow your horses

landonorris i thought you'd forgotten about me

yourusername you spam mine and Mick's phones every day. i couldn't forget if i wanted to

landonorris 😁😁😁😁

corinna.schumacher so proud of you, dear ❤️

yourusername you’ve been the biggest help, thank you for everything that you’ve done for me ❤️❤️❤️

corinna.schumacher you have a gift, people will be lucky to have a taste of your pastries ❤️

yourusername 😭❤️❤️

mickschumacher added to their story

caption: woken up with a lot of love this morning <3

liked by yourusername, estebanocon and 2,194,582 others

mickschumacher special guest in the paddock with me today ❤️ tagged: yourusername

view all 302,594 comments

yourusername i love you🫶🏻🫶🏻

mickschumacher i love you and your pastries🫶🏻

yourusername is that why you keep me around?

mickschumacher basically

user1 OMG DID SHE BRING PASTRIES TO THE PADDOCK?🫣🫣

user2 I'M DEAD she's so precious😩😩😩😩

landonorris thank you for the package😁😁😁

yourusername i'm glad you liked it

landonorris my trainer might want to have a word with you later😆

yourusername thanks for feeding me to the wolves

mickschumacher don’t worry babe, i’ll protect you

charles_leclerc Y/N should receive an award for baker of the year👏👏

yourusername thank you, charles. did you like the eclairs?

charles_leclerc i did...

yourusername wonderful😋

user3 not y/n making fun of charles' name😭😭

user4 i need to taste her pastires. IT'S A MUST🫠🫠

lilymhe she's an absolute goddess🩵🩵🩵

yourusername you're too kind lils🩵🩵

kellypiquet P is in love with Y/N now🫶🏻

yourusername precious little P🥹🩵

maxverstappen1 you're gonna get all of us fat🫣

yourusername don't blame this on me. i just brought them, i didn't make you eat them

maxverstappen1 but they looked so good...

mickschumacher stop attacking my girlfriend😠

user5 mick's instagram is slowly becoming a fan page for Y/N and i'm here for it😩😩

mickschumacher can you blame me?

user5 absolutely not. completely valid

yourusername i'm just too perfect😋🥰

mclaren we'd like to submit a request to have your pastries at our motorhomes from now on

mecerdesamgf1 so would we

redbullracing same here

astonmartinf1 put us on the list

mickschumacher OKAY WE GET IT

yourusername that's a whole load of pastries to bake

user6 every team on the grid has fallen in love with y/n and her baking

user7 watch y/n dominate the entire paddock from now on

liked by mickschumacher, lilymhe and 392,185 others

yourusername my forever favorite company❤️ (look at my precious pookie angie😭😭❤️❤️❤️) also taking a little break from baking because Mick thinks i'm too involved or something tagged: mickschumacher

view all 85,193 comments

mickschumacher i sometimes think you love Angie more than you love me

yourusername that's because it's true

mickschumacher ......

yourusername love youuuuu

mickschumacher you do bake too much lately

yourusername my demand is high. i'm just that good

mickschumacher ugh

lilymhe you’re so pretty 😭😭😭

yourusername staaaawp you’re gonna make me cry😭❤️❤️

landonorris how are my croissants doing?

yourusername you realize i do have a life, right?

landonorris i do. now, the croissants?

yourusername ….

yourusername almost ready

landonorris 😁😁😁

charles_leclerc we cannot wait to see you at the paddock again, y/n😃

mickschumacher are you using my girlfriend to get sweets?

yourusername be nice, mickie

yourusername charles_leclerc don’t worry, i’ll bring you the eclairs as soon as i get there

charles_leclerc you’re the best☺️☺️☺️

user1 the drivers being obsessed with mick’s girlfriend was not on my bucket list for this year 😅😅

user2 she’s being so sweet to the entire grid 🥺🥺

maxverstappen1 P can’t wait to see you either

yourusername my precious sweetheart 🥺🥺❤️

user3 at this point, everyone loves Y/N more than they love Mick🤣

alex_albon that dog is really cute

mickschumacher she is a beauty, isn’t she?

yourusername do you think your pets would be up for a play date?

alex_albon we can arrange something. as long as you bring some cupcakes 😁😁😁

yourusername deal

user4 they look so cute together 😭😭😭

user5 that dog is their child, nobody can change my mind

lilymhe i miss little angie so much😭😭

yourusername she misses auntie lils as well 😭

alex_albon we have so many pets and you're missing someone else's dog?

lilymhe YOU DON'T GET IT ALEX

yourusername MEN.

mickschumacher you messed with the wrong people Alex

alex_albon 😟😟

liked by yourusername, mickschumacher and 493,185 others

mercedesamgf1 Very big thanks to yourusername for providing us with the best pastries in town!!!❤️ tagged: yourusername

view all 59,184 comments

yourusername always happy to provide for the team❤️❤️

mercedesamgf1 ❤️

mickschumacher this is getting out of hand

yourusername relax mickie, it's my job, you know

mercedesamgf1 yeah mickie, don't interfere with the job

landonorris you made mine with papaya cream

yourusername extra special dose of love and kindness for the team

georgerussell63 MINE WAS SO GOOD

yourusername i’m glad you liked it georgie 😁😁

lewishamilton Roscoe was so happy when he saw the cupcake of himself

yourusername his was made with an extra dose of love 😭😭

mclaren thank you yourusername for the delivery!!! you can mark us down as regular clientele from now on 🥰

yourusername of course you guys 🥰🥰

mickschumacher you people do realize she needs to breathe, right?

mclaren no

redbullracing no

astonmartinf1 no

mercedesamgf1 you have a problem with us?

mickschumacher …no

maxverstappen1 P cried from excitement when we showed her the cupcake with her 😩

yourusername 🥺🥺🥺baby P is my favorite client

mickschumacher didn’t realize i would have to share my girlfriend with the rest of the grid…

mercedesamgf1 make peace with is, Mick. your girlfriend is now our girlfriend

yourusername ☺️☺️i love it when you fight over me

user1 this is actually so sweet of her 😭😭

user2 the fact that she spent so much time making these for them just proves how perfect she is ❤️❤️❤️

user3 how did her and Mick get together?

user4 hahahaha funny story. they actually met in a little bakery in Mick’s hometown, ordered the exact same order and then started talking and here they are almost 3 years later

user3 that is so sweet and so fitting for Mick 😭😭

user5 if Mick doesn’t marry her, i will

user6 mickschumacher can you fight?

mickschumacher for her, yes. bring it

user7 mick willing to fight over Y/N’s pastries 😭😭

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[fioiswriting]

Reunion | Sequel

[Part 1]

Summary : After the Battle Above the Gods Eye, Daemon returned victorious. Aemond was presumed dead, though his body was never found. Three years later, you've mourned your former husband and are ready to move on. But it seems that some ghosts from your past have come back to haunt you, and that the dead aren't really dead after all...

Rating : Explicit 18+, MDNI

Pairing : Aemond x Velaryon/Strong!niece!Reader

TW : unprotected sex, breeding kink, mention of characters death, angst, possessiveness, p in v sex, oral f receiving, dom/sub undertones, mention of war, AU where the Blacks won the war, anxiety, Reader has a child, grief, fluff, pregnancy, not proofread. 

Reader is Rhaenyra and Harwin’s daughter so I imagined her with dark hair like Jace, Luke and Joffrey but feel free to imagine her as you want of course <3

Words count : 9150

Author's note : Hello everyone!! Sorry for the wait, I've been very busy, but here's part two of Reunion (or at least the first part two, let's call it part 2.1 hehe). Thank you again for all you kind comments and the love you've given my fanfic omg!! Spoiler alert: this is the happy alternate ending! But I've got another bittersweet alternative ending planned 😈 If you think the first part was good enough on its own and the sequel may break the vibe, don't force yourself to read!! But if you need a happy ending, here it is <3 The plot still doesn't make any sense, but hey, we're here to have fun so enjoy ❤️

English is still not my first (or second) language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes <3

When you wake up, the first thing you feel is the reassuring embrace of his arms around you. You don't want to move, not even when the sunlight tickles your face through the opening between the wooden shutters, trying to make the moment last endlessly. But the growing anxiety in your stomach chases away the illusion of your fleeting happiness. 

You close your eyes a little tighter. Perhaps if you try again, perhaps if you try harder, the world around you can fade away.

Perhaps you can wake up again, in a different reality.

But it's inevitable. You know that now you're awake, it's only a matter of time before the two of you have to say goodbye forever. Your breathing becomes heavier, and you have to fight the tingling sensation at the corners of your eyes.

Why have the gods decided to be so cruel to you? They grant you one last taste of his skin on your lips before taking it from you, again. 

Haven't you given enough? 

Could they not show you mercy? 

You who had forgotten him, you who had begun to turn a new page, to seek comfort in the arms of the cold, far away from the fire and the ashes, why did you have to touch the poison that would once again stain your soul?

Behind you, Aemond buries his long nose in your hair. His hand absently caresses the skin of your thigh, just where the edge of the linen tunic you put on sometime during the night when you were cold ends. The fabric is pulled up, revealing the outline of your bottom, and you can already feel your uncle hardening between his thighs, but you don't move.

If you move, you'll make everything more real. Tangible.

You'll speed up the process of losing him, of him slipping through your fingers. 

How can you let him go, now that your heart is full again, now that you feel complete in a way you haven't felt for over three years?

How can you let him go, now that your body has retrieve the extension of itself in the arms of the man who was the cause of your torment, your moments of joy, your pain and, paradoxically, your happiness?

"I know you're awake."

You hold your breath and Aemond inhales into your hair. His hand moves down the inside of your thigh, along the hollow that joins it to your groin. He doesn't venture any further. 

His thumb rests there and brushes your skin, trying to arouse the desire in you with gentleness.

Subtly.

 He doesn't want to hurry, he doesn't want to rush you.

Not when he's been harbouring the impossible fantasy of waking up with you in his arms since the day he nearly died.

He presses harder against you, as if he doesn't want to let you go, as if he wants to be one with you again, and you feel him pulsing against your buttocks, under the linen cloth that has been pulled up a little higher. He says nothing, but he is pleading, needy, in his gestures, which is rare for him.

Something has changed, after all, and perhaps something has changed in him too. 

"I am awake, indeed, " you whisper in a voice that is still half asleep. The lump in your throat betrays the feeling of anxiety gradually creeping into your body, and Aemond seems to notice. Under your tunic, his hand moves up along your belly until it nestles against your chest, close to your heart. His thumb draws small circles, once again trying to bring you back to him.

Trying to calm your mind.

"Let us forget for a little longer," he whispers, his clenched jaw resting over your head. "Please." 

And you know he never begs. 

Aemond takes and doesn't ask.

Aemond believes he is owed everything and never gives in return.

Hearing him beg breaks something inside you, because this is the first time he does so.

Usually it was you, it was always you, begging for peace, begging for more, begging him not to leave you.

Part of him is as desperate as you are; part of him also dreads the moment when you will have to part again. Forever. It's comforting to know that his feelings are sincere, just like yours.

" Make me forget, then." You reply, moving your lower loins back against him, giving him tacit permission to explore your body once more. His fingers move down to your breasts, which he covers softly with his hand, his thumb skimming over a nipple to make it hard. You let out a gasp between your parted lips.

His hand slides lower, his palm flat against your lower belly, his fingertips brushing the light patch of hair at the top of your mound. You feel the familiar warmth growing between your thighs, in your core.

He sighs against the back of your skull, his head tilted forward. His lips search the skin at the nape of your neck, behind the long hair that has become tangled during the night, while his fingers intimately explore the secrets of your body that he knows all too well. The remnants of last night's lovemaking still smear the insides of your thighs and folds, but it doesn't matter; his fingers easily find the little bundle of nerves that they tease until you close your eyes, until your hand grips the damp, shabby sheet that covers the ragged mattress in the inn where you've spent the night.

Just the both of you, in the comfort of anonymity. 

"Let me taste you". His voice, still husky, tickles the back of your neck and you feel him shift behind you. When you feel the warmth of his bare chest, against which you're nestled, leave your back, your body automatically tries to move back against him. You still need him. You still need him to chase away the lump of anxiety in the pit of your stomach and the voices that keep reminding you that you're only postponing the fateful moment. Your hand slips under your white tunic and wraps around his wrist to force him to stay there, to hold his fingers against the source of heat spreading from your core. Your hips are demanding, grinding against his hand. "On your back," he insists, and stands up on his forearms.

With reluctance you turn over. You obey, lying on your back, your hair spilled around your head on the flat, uncomfortable pillow on which you slept badly. The white tunic that serves as your nightgown is pulled up, crumpled, just above your crotch, which it barely conceals. 

Aemond has swung over your body, silvery strands loosening from the braid that holds his hair behind his head and sliding down his shoulders, falling in loose loops on either side of his face, tickling your cheeks.

His lilac-tinted blue eye glows with a predatory gaze, a ray of light catching in the sapphire he hasn't removed from his socket. 

He captures your lips with his own, begging for access. Aemond marks your jaw and throat with light kisses, sucking at your collarbone to make the violets of possessiveness with which he likes to adorn your body bloom. His lips travel down your chest, playing with one of the two small nipples raised by the cool air and by desire, and continue their journey past your navel. 

Your heartbeat quickens as he settles between your legs, spreading your thighs to admire the part of you he covets so eagerly. At the same time you bend your legs, your gaze falling on him, on his unravelled hair, on his eye that locks with yours. He is so close to you, so close to your warm centre, and you know that between your folds the sweet nectar that your uncle longs to taste is already flowing.

But his lips trace the inside of your thighs instead, where the skin is soft and tender, and gradually they reach the hollow that connects them to your most intimate part. He takes a malicious pleasure in building up the tension, in savouring every millimetre of you like a fine delicacy, with only the tip of his lips brushing against your skin.

His thumbs spread the tender flesh of your womanhood and then he places a chaste kiss on the very centre of you. His tongue is shy at first, tracing the slit that connects your entrance to your little knob, collecting the evidence of your desire.

As his tongue wraps around your nub, your hands grip the sheets, knuckles white. 

Aemond drinks from your essence like a thirsty man, his nose buried between your folds, rubbing your pearl.

The tip of his tongue catches what drips from your opening, and then the flat of his tongue tastes your slit, working its way up to the little nub gorged with desire. 

He maintains the same rhythm, revelling in the moans that escape from your half-open lips. Soon his middle finger begins to draw circles against your entrance, the first knuckle sliding inside, then the whole finger. Your head is thrown back and immediately your hand buries itself in his silvery hair, gripping his braid in a messy bun behind the top of his head. Forcing his face against the most intimate part of your body, forcing his lips to work on your wet warmth, you seek more contact. 

Aemond adds a second finger. He can feel you tighten around him as he searches for that particular spot, as his tongue continues to play with your bundle of nerves.

As he devours what is his, utterly his.

His fingers, the ones that aren't buried inside you, close around the flesh of your hip in a possessive grip. "Come for me," he whispers against your womanhood, his eyes lifted to you. "I know you can do it."

Your breathing becomes more erratic, faster too. You tighten the grip of your fingers in his hair, your thighs pressing either side of his face, and he collects the sweet taste of your release on his tongue with a hum. 

You feel like you're floating. The waves of warmth still wash over you, less and less intense, your breast rising and falling as you catch your breath. 

Your hand tucks a lock of his hair back behind his ear as Aemond lifts his face towards you, and you rest your hand against his cheek. His parted lips still glisten with your desire smeared across the lower part of his face. He stares at you without moving, his deep, regular breathing the only sound to break the silence that has followed your release. You stay like that for a moment, his gaze burning into yours. At any moment he might pounce on you. At any moment he might close the tiny distance separating your mouths and press his lips against yours like the starving man he is.

It's you who makes the first move. You taste yourself on his lips and your tongue entwines with his in a fiery, demanding kiss.

Straightening up, Aemond creeps between your legs, his hand on the underside of your thighs, holding them apart. He is still completely naked from the night before, he has not bothered to get dressed after your lovemaking, so you can catch a glimpse of his erect manhood, slightly curved. He wraps his hand around to guide it towards your still sensitive wet entrance.

He slides into you easily, in one slow movement. The haste of the night before, the urgency of the reunion, has given way to the tenderness and laziness of the early morning, and Aemond rocks inside you slowly. His hips undulate, punctuated by long, deep thrusts, in an illusion of domesticity. 

But the damp sheets, rough against your skin, the discomfort of the hard mattress beneath your back, remind you that your lovemaking is anything but domestic.

For Aemond is still the enemy, for Aemond is supposed to be dead.

For your family is probably looking for you at this very moment, worried that you have not returned home for the night.

But you push those thoughts away. The weight of your uncle's body on top of yours soothes the knot that forms in the pit of your stomach at the thought of time slipping away, at the thought of having to leave him again, at the thought of this being the last time you will taste his lips, his skin.

Aemond is gentle, and that is rare enough to be worth mentioning. He has never been so gentle, so soft, in the limited time that you have been married.

Between you, there had been the devouring, consuming passion, the power play that in your submission had granted you dominance.

Between you it had been raw and devastating more than gentle and tender.

His fingers run the length of your body to your core, combining his slow, deep thrusts with the movement of his fingers against your clit.

There are only few words exchanged between you, as if you were both afraid to break the grace of the moment.

His panting, noisy breath echoes in the silence, skimming the skin of your throat, then mingling with yours as the shadow of his lips brushes against yours. He rests his forehead against yours, your hand cupping his cheek, sliding behind his neck, and you are transported into a cocoon of intimacy where nothing else exists around you.

There is only his body against yours, warm and reassuring.

There is only him inside you and the slow movement of his hips.

There is only your breathing, blending in the space that separates your mouths.

"Do you know how much I've missed you?" He whispers against your lips as you close your thighs around him. "How much I dreamed of this tight little cunt?" You swallow his words. Your hips meet his as he pushes against you. He is reaching deep inside you. Despite the intimacy of the moment, his body oozes power and darkness, and you can't help but be drawn to that side of him that complements yours so well. 

You can't stop your body from aching for him. 

"You could have been my queen," he says as his movements grow stronger. He won't last long, but neither will you. He's inside you, where you like to feel him, and your walls clench around his member. "And I would have set the whole world on fire for you." He thrusts. "Burned it to the ground" He thrusts again. "All for you." And again.

The old wood of the bed creaks with each of his movements.

You seek out his lips, just to brush them against yours. 

Without sealing the kiss.

"And I would have accepted," you answer with a whimper. "I would have been your queen, qybor." In another life, you think you would.

In another life, in another universe, you would have been his queen.

A grunt escapes his lips and lands in the hollow of your ear. Aemond straightens on his bent elbow, right next to your head, and he plunges into you one last time, with more power, more vigour, just as his new position allows.

You close your eyes. 

A second wave of warmth is about to engulf your body.

And you wait for it, you welcome it.

"Look at me when I come inside you," he growls hoarsely as his seed pours deep inside you, into the most intimate part of your body. "Look at me as I fill you up."

Your eyes lock with his, fiery as ever. A final moan escapes between your lips and you seal them to your uncle's in a feverish, wet kiss. You hold him in your arms for a moment longer, as if to allow yourself the luxury of illusion for a brief instant. 

You delay the fateful moment a little longer, fighting the minutes that inevitably slip through your fingers.

"Stay inside me just a little longer," you whisper, burying your head in the hollow of his neck where you can feel the rapid rhythm of his pulse. His arms close around you, holding you tight against him, and you hear him purr against the hair on the crown of your head. He rocks you gently.

The silence welcomes you both into its embrace and you savour it like a treasure. Your body aches in the sweetest way, your insides throbbing around his softening manhood. 

And around you, nothing exists anymore.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** 

"I've changed, you know." His hoarse voice vibrates against you, but you refuse to meet his eyes. You keep them closed. 

You're not sure if Aemond has really changed. Aemond is ruthless, cold, brutal, calculating, merciless. Cruel. You're not sure if Aemond can ever change, but he shows unusual tenderness, and maybe, just maybe, you allow yourself to doubt. You indulge in the illusion. 

Perhaps Vhagar's death has broken something in him. 

Perhaps it's true, perhaps he's not the same man anymore.

He's not sorry for what he has done. He never will be. He's too proud, even if you can catch the glimmer of remorse that colours his icy eyes when he is not looking at you.

Does he think of your little brother? Is he haunted by the memory of him, as you have been for so many years?

Does he think of the innocents he killed without flinching, the blood he spilled in the Riverlands that now stains the burned grass? 

Is his sanity slowly being eaten away by the atrocities he has committed with his own hands? 

He has changed. You are not sure if he's changed for the better or for the worse, but he has indeed.

Daemon has changed too. So has Rhaenyra. So has Jace.

You too have changed.

For war changes people, war makes them weary and wary, it shatters something in the body that will never be the same again. It hollows out the roundness of the cheeks, it deepens the dark circles under the eyes, it fades the sparkle of childhood that remains in the eyes.

Aemond seems to be waiting for an answer, but the words remain stuck in your throat. I know, you want to whisper, I know, but suddenly you've forgotten how to speak. His thumb draws the soft line of the underside of your breast.

The future terrifies you more than ever. You had made peace with your past, you had come to a conclusion that, even if it pained you, had given you some respite. 

Seeing your uncle alive had reawakened your demons. 

Spending the night in the embrace of his arms had revived everything you had buried deep, deep down. 

The past had returned, creeping towards you, gnawing at the corners of your heart and at what remained of your sense of stability and certainty. 

Now you are plunged into doubt. 

Just as you were a little over three years ago, when you were informed of his death, when you had to learn to live with the choice that had never really been given to you.

Just as three years ago, when you noticed a familiar lilac-tinged blue in Rhaegar's eyes.

Like when you had to live with the memories that haunted you, that were slowly eating away at what little sanity you had left.

Like when you finally decided to leave for the North.

Aemond seems to sense your anguish, because his fingers get lost in your hair. 

"What are we going to do now?" 

Finally, you dare to utter the inevitable words that have been hanging on the tip of your tongue since you woke up, words you've swallowed so many times this morning. You immediately blame yourself. 

Saying them only makes them more real.

They tear at something in the imaginary cocoon you've built for yourselves. You bury your face against his skin, breathe in his scent, as if you never want to forget him.

For you know how fleeting memories can be.

You remember how his face faded with each passing day.

You don't know if you'll ever be able to experience it a second time.

"We could leave," Aemond replies, as his fingers venture to your jaw, caressing the line of your cheeks with the back of his knuckles. 

He's so pragmatic, as always.

Even in this situation.

Even now.

It makes you want to shake him.

"We could run away," he says again. His gaze, fixed in the distance, falls on you at the same moment. "To Essos. Pentos. No one would know who we are." You close your eyes, and let his hoarse voice lull you into silence. "To start our own family, the three of us."

You know he is not serious. Even though he looks at you with such insistence, with that flame that flickers in the centre of his iris.

You relish his fantasy, this impossible dream. 

But you can't leave your family; Essos is not Winterfell. There, they knew where to find you. They knew you were safe. They knew you were sheltered between the walls of the northern castle, under the heavy furs, under the protection of Cregan Stark.

Essos is the unknown.

You cannot let your mother lose her only daughter, not after everything she has already lost. 

The itch is familiar, tickling at the corners of your eyes. There was a time when you thought you'd lost that sensitivity. When you thought the war had left you cold, incapable of feeling anything. Incapable of crying.

"You know I can't." Your nose rubs against his milky skin, made clammy by sweat. You keep your eyes closed because you feel the weight of his cold gaze on you, his furrowed eyebrows as he stares at you blankly, his lips pursed in a long, thin line. You don't have the courage to meet his accusing gaze, let alone the wounded look on his face as you crush all his illusory dreams into dust. 

When did you become the more pragmatic of the two? 

When did you become the one responsible for bringing Aemond back to reality?

It used to be you, the one who filled your mind with unrealistic dreams, the one who dreamed of stories and fairy tales, back when you could still dream. "They need me, you know that."

A sneer stretches across your uncle's lips as he swallows a chuckle that sounds more like an ironic growl. You feel his whole body tense against yours, a sign that he's holding back his annoyance. 

A sign that he has something to say, that he's upset, but doesn't quite know how to put it into words. 

"Like they needed you back then?" he replies scathingly, bitterness on the tip of his tongue. "When they used you as a bargaining chip to achieve their ends, hm?"  

Your red cheeks burn with shame, as if he'd slapped you. You don't move, merely swallow hard. You know there's something right about what he is saying, but you don't want to admit it. 

You've done your duty.

You've done what is expected of you as a daughter.

It was not a question of them using you. It never was. 

It was your duty, only your duty, what you were always meant to perform, wasn't it?

And yet a small voice in the back of your head had already given you a similar speech, a few years ago, but you had tried to silence it.

You refused to let Aemond admit it. You refuse to allow him to do it. He had no idea, no right to criticise your family when he'd acted like that.

When he has done what he has done.

He has no idea what it is like to be a daughter.

You don't answer, and silence falls between you again.

You wish so desperately that he could go home with you; that he could tell them that he's sorry.

You wish it were easier. 

There is no one left to wait for Aemond but you, but his son, you know that. His family has been decimated, as has yours in some ways, though you still have your parents and your older brother.

For your uncle, there's nothing left but the shadow of his existence, the shadow of who he once was, long ago.

You let your hand trace the side of his throat, your nose buried against it, your lips hovering over his skin. You lean against him, your body on top of his, pressed together as if you were afraid to let him go.

"You could come with me instead," you whisper, but you refuse to meet his gaze. There's something shameful in the words you've just spoken aloud, something naive, and your burning cheeks are proof of your embarrassment.

Almost imperceptibly, he clenches beneath you, holding his breath. This is a bad idea and you feel stupid. Naive to have dared to suggest something like this.

His voice purrs in a hm that vibrates against you. He's about to say something. He searches for words. "You know that -"

"I know." You cut him off sharply - a little more than you would have liked, your eyes raised to silence him.

You know what he thinks.

He thinks that Rhaenyra will never be his queen. He thinks he will never bend the knee to his eldest sister and her authority, which he doesn't recognise.

He thinks that with the death of Aegon, with the death of the children his brother fathered with Helaena, the throne belongs to him.

And you are aware of his ambitions. You know how perfectly the conqueror's crown fits his head. You know how it sets off the sapphire embedded in his eye socket. You remember the look of greed in his eyes every time he stared at the Iron Throne, you remember the look of pride on his face every time he scorned anyone who dared to question his decisions as Prince Regent.

You know how mercilessly he made the soldiers at Harrenhal kneel, forcing them to contemplate their impending deaths. You know the terror he has sown throughout the Riverlands.

Even in the Seven Hells you could have found more mercy than at the hands of Aemond Targaryen.

Aemond may have changed, but you're not sure he's changed enough to put aside the pride that is consuming him from within.

You take a deep breath. "You don't really have a choice, qybor." 

Fearing his reaction, you curl into a fetal position, your back to him, your knees drawn up to you. You close your eyes. You wait for his frustration.

You wait for his sentence.

You know that he is aware that he has no choice. 

He has only two options: swallow his pride or sink back into the abyss, disappear into the dark meanders of oblivion.

Rhaegar needed his father, of course, but you found him a father in Cregan Stark. 

That was a sacrifice you were willing to make.

There was no way you would give up what family you had left.

For Rhaegar needed his grandparents and his uncle even more.

Behind you, you feel your uncle's hand slip under your tunic and around your body, pulling you against him. He presses his bare chest against your back, tucking your head under his chin. His hand caresses your stomach, then his fingers brush the base of your breast.

"You know she will never be my queen. You know the throne belongs to -" But he lets the words drop without finishing the sentence, the knowledge of what he was about to say hanging in the air between you. 

As long as he remains alive, will the embers of war never truly be extinguished? 

You don't know, but you accept the risk. 

You close your eyes, as if you're about to jump into the icy depths with both feet.

"The rest is up to you, Aemond," you whisper, barely audible. "And if you have truly changed, then you will know how to make the right choice."

He says nothing. 

You savour the last few minutes of illusion you have left.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** 

The fear of making the wrong choice never really leaves you, but your mother chases your fears away, as she so often did when you were a child, tucking one of your dark curls behind your ear. She has her distinctive little smirk on her lips, the one that pulls the corner of her lips up towards her nose.  

The same one Lucerys had, you think sadly. 

You still miss him, even after all this time, and sometimes you wonder what kind of young man he would have become.

"You're a clever girl, my sweet clever girl," she whispers against your forehead as she cradles you in her arms. She's as beautiful as ever, as gentle with you as ever, despite the years, despite the wear and tear of war that has hardened her features and hollowed her cheeks. "And I know you have made the right decision." She lifts your chin with her forefinger to look into your eyes, and you feel like you're turning back into that shy, insecure girl who disappeared somewhere in the violence of the war all those years ago.

 "And if it should turn out that you were wrong... Daemon will be there to intervene. You know he is just waiting for that." You roll your eyes at her attempt at humour, and she plants a kiss on your forehead. 

For a split second, you truly are that carefree little girl again.

But behind your mother's humour lie fragments of reality that make your laughter bitter.

The news of your husband's survival remains a hazy blur in your mind. Sometimes you're not sure if this conversation really occurred or if you're dreaming.

You're not sure if what's around you, if the night you spent in Aemond's arms, is real or an invention of your sick mind.

Sometimes you're not really conscious of the events or how long they lasted, the lump in your stomach grows back, and once again you're destined to carve half-moons marks in the palms of your hands to soothe the tension in your body.

You told your mother first because you knew she'd be more understanding. As a mother, as a woman, she knows the meaning behind certain silences, the weight of words, the unspoken words that float between sentences. 

You know she can understand your pain and your doubts, but also your love and your compassion.

She was shocked when you told her that her younger brother was still alive. She smoothed her dress, paced back and forth, then took the time to sit down, her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes riveted to your face, looking for clues that would betray what you were thinking, what you might be hiding. She was afraid that he had hurt you. She was afraid that he would rip you away from her, just as he had once ripped your little brother away from her.

Her fingers had gently taken your hand and her thumb had drawn little circles on the back of your hand to comfort you. She listened to you first as you confessed everything. 

Where you were that night when you didn't come home. 

Who you were with.

And then she took you in her arms. She reassured you. Soothed you. 

You had been so afraid of disappointing her, of disappointing all of them, that the tension paralysing your body had finally loosened and you burst into tears.

Things had proved more complicated with Daemon. When he learned that his nephew was alive, that he wasn't forgotten forever in the deep waters of the lake near Harrenhal, he refused to believe you. He was furious. He said he had seen him fall, that he was the one who had taken his life, tearing the sky apart.

You didn't know where to look, and it was in your mother's eyes that you sought support, comfort, anything in the face of your stepfather's rage. You could feel on you the look of disappointment of your brother, Jace, as he held his shoulders up and his chin high. He wanted to prove that one day he would be a good king. With his jaw clenched, he said nothing, looking at you as if you were suddenly so foreign to him. He probably didn't know what to say, for fear of being clumsy, for fear of unintentionally hurting you, even more than by his lack of support. 

You know it wasn't his fault. 

He simply couldn't understand.

The words stuck in your throat and you found yourself unable to speak, pearls glittering in the corners of your eyes while you waited impatiently for the final blow.

The final death knell that would seal your disgrace in everyone's eyes.

After all you'd endured.

Daemon stood before you, his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes hard. He was staring at you as if you'd committed the ultimate treason, and you knew he was controlling himself to keep his anger from exploding. "You're going to bring him to me," he had hissed, his hand closing over your shoulder. 

" You will lure him here and he will be put to the sword." His tone left no room for argument. With the tension growing in your stomach, you sought your mother's compassionate look to calm you. You could see the fury in your stepfather's eyes, and also a mixture of fear and feelings of betrayal. You knew that, deep down, he was afraid for you because he considers you his daughter. Because Baela and Rhaena are like sisters to you. 

It was his reaction you feared most, not your mother's. His fingers dug into your skin, the floor slipping out from under you, the room swaying dangerously, and your mother had come to your rescue, trying to calm things down with her usual diplomacy.

You can't quite remember the words your stepfather said; in anger he muttered something that sounded like are you really thinking of becoming his whore again? and the words hurt like hell, but you tried to swallow the pain.

 Endure, hold your head high. That was what you had learned.

Your mother had suggested you go back to your room or spend some time with Rhaegar, her fingers gently stroking your dark locks, and as soon as you left the throne room you could hear their voices echoing through the door. 

They were arguing.

Over you.

Because of you, again.

You took a deep breath and returned to the gardens, where your two stepsisters were making your son laugh by playing with him. They had fun running around in the damp grass to the applause of Baela's little daughter, who clapped her little hands in delight.

Your fingers were still trembling when you joined them.

In the end a solution was found, for your mother feared losing you a second time. 

She remembered what had happened to Laenor, your father, when he had grown tired of the court.

She remembered what had happened to Helaena, your sweet aunt, when she could no longer bear to suffer.

It was her worst nightmare to see you torn from her again, now that she had the chance to hold you in her arms every day, to protect you again, to see you grow again.

It was her worst nightmare to see her only daughter, her only daughter and the second of her only surviving children, taken from her. 

You and Jace were all she had left of her own blood.

After long negotiations with Daemon, you had managed to bargain for your husband's life in exchange for strict conditions; increased surveillance, no bonding with a new dragon, no carrying of weapons, and the assurance that he would be executed if there was the slightest doubt about him. You proposed that you and he leave the capital, with your son as well. To return to Dragonstone. To start over on a new, blank page in a book that was already too damaged.

For you, it was also a way to ease the tensions between your family and Aemond, and perhaps find a more intimate life with your husband and son.

Rhaenyra had declared that this was the best solution: a guarantee for her to have you by her side again, a guarantee for her that you would be there.

You had been afraid of Aemond's reaction, afraid that his ego would not bear it; that he would refuse, that he would rather sentence himself to his own death than to an existence as a prisoner within his own family, condemned to live as a shadow of the man he had once been in exchange for seeing his son grow up. 

But in the end, wasn't he doomed to live as a shadow of the man he had once been, anyway?

He would never be the rider of Vhagar again.

He would never be the ruthless Prince Regent again.

He would never again be the second in line to the throne, the second son greedily waiting for fate to turn in his favour.

He hadn't been all of that for a good three years, lurking in the cold, gloomy corridors of Harrenhal like a lonely monster.

And if he went back, if he rejected your proposal, he would have condemned himself to eternal solitude at the side of a witch you would rather forget.

He had no choice, for he would never be that Aemond again. 

When you joined your husband at the meeting place, you were relieved to see him swallow his pride and accept. It was difficult, but you convinced him. 

For Rhaegar, for his son.

Aemond had suggested that you run away, far away from everything, and you almost hesitated. Running away would have allowed you to forget, of course. 

But your deepest wounds had begun to heal. You had begun to be able to face the ghosts that haunted King's Landing, the ghosts that haunted Dragonstone.

To stop there was tempting, and yet so frightening at the same time. 

The unknown terrified you. You needed familiarity now, something to fall back on, for you were so tired. 

Now you can't help bringing your thumb to your lips, nibbling the skin at the corner of your fingernail with the tip of your teeth as you walk away from Rhaenyra. A handmaiden brings you Rhaegar, and you struggle to breathe. 

You inhale.

You exhale.

The thick tuft of brown hair makes you smile. The sight of your son is enough to give you the courage to walk with a more confident stride. It's as if you were filled with new strength, for you know that he needs you more than anyone else. And for him, you've promised yourself to stay strong.

As soon as you reach him, you kneel and plant a kiss on his plump cheeks. 

He's growing up so fast that sometimes you wish you could stop time.

"There's someone who'd like to meet you, sweet boy," you explain, and you can recognise your mother's inflection in your own voice. Sweet boy. Rhaegar looks at you with big, round, questioning eyes, and you wonder if he senses your anxiety, because he takes your hand between his tiny fingers.

"Who, muña ?" he babbles, striding down the cobbled path in the middle of the gardens, hopping on his clumsy little legs, and you smile at his carefree attitude. He stops to watch the bees foraging, bends down to pick up a flower and gives it to you. He's always so curious, so full of life. He's a ray of sunshine that brightens your dull days. You finally understand your mother, the agonising fear she has of losing you. You finally understand the horror she experienced when she lost her four other children.

You also finally understand why Helena threw herself from Maegor's Holdfast.

The thought of what Daemon did still revolts you, and you can't imagine anyone hurting your boy like that.

You turn around. Rhaenyra is still there, in the distance, her crown on her head, her hands crossed in front of her on the heavy fabric of her dress, watching over you. She won't move, a comforting, discreet presence.

A stone bench awaits you by the fountain, on which two cushions have been arranged. A dessert buffet has been set up under the gazebo and you immediately spot your favourite cakes, the strawberry one, the blackberry jam one, and you look down at your son. He hasn't noticed them yet, or he would have already run over, dipped his finger in the whipped cream and stolen a blueberry from one of the tarts, his innocent expression on his face. 

He is definitely a lot like you. Mischievous and clever. An angelic air. He is an easy-going child who never throws a tantrum.

Who understands quickly, too. 

"I love you. I love you more than anything, you know that, don't you, young boy?" your tone is soft, and you kneel down in front of him, your hands on his small shoulders to emphasise the seriousness of your discussion. You search for your words, hesitating. How do you tell a three-year-old that his father, his dead father, is back from the dead and about to meet him?

Of course, Rhaegar knows that his birthfather was valiant, that his birthfather rode the greatest dragon in the world, that his birthfather died in battle.

But there is so much he doesn't know, so much he will inevitably learn as he grows up, and it is precisely that future that frightens you. You hug him as if you're afraid of losing him.

"Princess."

The deep voice of your sworn protector echoes behind you, and you straighten your skirt. 

You know he is there. 

You know you will see him the moment you turn around.

Your heartbeat quickens.

Aemond Targaryen stands behind your sworn protector, surrounded by two guards. His hands are bound in front of him. 

It is so strange to see your uncle in this vulnerable position. He who for so long has been on the other side, he who for so long has been the one who bent others to his will. He looks at you harshly, and you almost feel the need to apologise.

But you know it is a matter of caution.

You know that Daemon, you know that Jace and even your mother would never have agreed to bring him in if such precautions hadn't been taken.

You admire his resilience, his determination. You admire his ability to hold his head high, to be confident, despite the fact that he is being treated like a common prisoner, about to be sentenced to death.

You struggle to swallow the lump that has formed in your throat. 

"Who's that, muña?" Aemond's eyes leave you and immediately drop to the small figure that has appeared beside you, reaching for your hand, huddling against your leg, shy and worried. 

Immediately, your husband's icy gaze, his lilac-coloured eyes, soften.

"Thank you, Sir Rowan. You may leave us."

Despite the worry on his face, your sworn protector nods, unties his prisoner's hands and walks back to your mother, accompanied by the other two guards. You watch them leave, and a strange silence fills the space between you and your uncle.

He doesn't look at you; his eyes are riveted to your son, whom he observes with wonder. He looks as if he is admiring the most beautiful and fascinating discovery he has ever seen. You look down to see Rhaegar's reaction, and he seems as intimidated as he is hypnotised by that gaze, by that blue and purple eye so similar to his owns, by this man looking at him as if he were one of the most marvellous things in the world. 

"Gods, he's perfect," Aemond murmurs as he looks up at you, emerging from his trance. He comes closer to embrace you. And for once, there is something other than his usual brutal possessiveness and ferocity when his arms close around you.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** 

Aemond is shy at first. Awkward. 

He's shy and amazed as he follows your son's every move with his good eye. From time to time, his gaze rests on you, as if to make sure he's not dreaming. As if to make sure he is doing right, seeking your approval.

Rhaegar is shy too, at first.

When he sits on your lap, he snuggles up to you, buries his face in your neck, one of your locks curled in his chubby little hand and he rubs it against his nose. From time to time, he turns to give his father a curious look, recognising his own eyes in the unfamiliar face before him. 

Aemond's expression grows gentler, a softness never seen in his features before.

Once he has tamed the stranger, the little boy pecks at the blueberries in the tart in front of him. He shakes his legs, hitting your knees in painful little jabs, and your arm wraps around his body to hold him down.

Rhaegar loves cake, and the sugar may be coaxing him, for he's regaining his appetite for talking.

"He really does have my eyes," Aemond whispers incredulously, and his voice, still foreign to his son's ears, causes the little boy to lift his head.

" It is definitely the only thing he has inherited from you," you reply, teasing him with a small smile at the corner of your lips.

Soon Rhaegar finishes the blueberry tart, the cream smeared over the bottom of his face and the tip of his nose.

"He inherited that from you, that is certain." Aemond grins, pointing with his long chin at the boy's voracious appetite for cakes and pastries.

You have to pinch yourself to make sure you're not dreaming. That your husband is really standing in front of you, with your son, like a normal family. 

That he was truly trying to tell a joke.

This form of domesticity is so alien to your relationship, and yet so pleasant, that you find yourself thinking that perhaps you have made the right decision, indeed, if every day can be like this. 

"Your muña deserves some cake too, what do you say, little one?"

Rhaegar giggles. Aemond cuts a slice of your favourite cake, the one with the strawberries, and puts it on your plate. 

You blush. After all these years, he hasn't forgotten which one is your favourite.

You can't even really whisper a thank you because this apparent domesticity, this feeling of completeness, this interlude of happiness makes you uneasy. Anxious.

You have the feeling that at any moment you'll be plunged back into the horror of what you went through all those years ago. 

You have the feeling that at any moment the Gods will be cruel and snatch away this happiness that you've barely been able to taste, leaving only the memory of its sweet taste on your lips.

You breathe in and out, as you often do when you feel your palpitations rising in your chest.

"Do you... do you want to take him on your lap?" you ask your uncle with shyness, your hand stroking Rhaegar's thick brown curls. Aemond looks at you as if you have spoken in a foreign language. Lips parted, he is about to say something, but not a sound escapes his lips. His lonely eye travels from you to your son, from your son to you, in silence.

"I don't know if -"

You can hear the doubt in his voice, and it's almost touching to see him lose his confidence in front of his own son, to see him so nervous and unsure of himself.

You let out a little laugh, not in mockery, obviously, just full of tenderness.

You know what he's thinking.

He's afraid of frightening him.

He's afraid of harming him.

"You won't hurt him, Aemond."

He answers nothing. He still doesn't like to look vulnerable, unsure, and you know it has to do with his childhood. With all he has kept bottled up inside him all these years. He will need time.

Your eyes fall back to the little boy sitting in your lap, and you draw his attention to yourself by stroking the curls on his forehead.

"Do you want to go to Aemond for a while? To kepus?" 

you correct yourself immediately, and Rhaegar nods in agreement.

You are amazed at how easily he slips off your legs to run to his father, to pull himself onto his lap, when only a few hours ago he was so intimidated by the presence of this stranger with the eyepatch.

Your uncle automatically puts his arm around his waist to make him feel comfortable, his new role taking root in him. His fingers reach for the cloth on the table, and he wipes Rhaegar's face, who can't help but burst out laughing at his father's clumsy gestures.

For a split second you are lost in contemplating the horizon, the stillness of the sea. You taste the sea breeze on your face.

And then you turn your head towards the cobbled path where the guards and your sworn protector are still stationed. 

Your mother is no longer there, and you notice that you have not at any time felt the need to seek comfort in her presence. 

You smile, for in the end you know you've made the right decision.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** 

Dragonstone, 6 months later.

When you walk the corridors of the place that saw you grow up, you are no longer haunted by the ghosts and their incessant cries. A kind of peace has settled over you, a return to the pleasant familiarity you've waited so long for.

You still think of Luke, of course. Of Luke and Joff and little Aegon and Viserys, your brothers you will never see grow old. 

But you no longer feel their disapproving glances at every step you take. You are no longer kept awake by their cries, by their tears, by the remorse that twists your stomach. 

You no longer blame yourself. 

Perhaps you've finally learnt to make peace with yourself.

The heavy door of the bedroom you share with Aemond is half open, and you slip your head into the doorway, piqued by curiosity.

Snuggled on your husband's lap, Rhaegar is staring at the pages of a large book, the corners of which you can guess are horned, the cover worn, from being carried everywhere. You can imagine the jam stains that mark the paper with children's fingerprints. You know exactly which page is missing, the one you and Aemond accidentally tore out and hid so the Septa wouldn't notice, so many years ago. 

It is a book about dragons, the very one the two of you used to read hidden under the table when you were so young and innocent, long before the torment of war.

Without a sound, you lean against the doorframe and contemplate for a moment the perfect vision before you.

You don't have the cruelty to disturb them.

 "This one is Vhaegar!" shouts Rhaegar, and you hold your breath, searching Aemond's face for any hint that might betray his reaction. The mention of his former dragon is still a sensitive subject for him, you know it.

"Yes, that's Vhagar." he pauses. "She was brave."

From the corner of his eye, Aemond spots your silhouette in the faint glow of the corridor, and his attention lingers on you for a moment. He's almost embarrassed to be caught in such a vulnerable, intimate moment, but you smile tenderly to encourage him.

"And big!" the little boy adds, energetically raising his arms to the sky to emphasise his words.

"Yes, and big." There's a suspended moment of silence where the words hang in the air, and then your husband gently ruffles his son's hair. It's a tender sight to see them bond like this, and your heart fills with happiness.

Taking a step forward, you step into the light of the room and Rhaegar expresses his joy at seeing you. You smile back at him and approach the chair where Aemond sits, your son on his lap.

Your uncle's hand instantly rests on the curve of your belly, which he still stares at with the same protective instinct, the same fascination, as the day you told him the news. His eyes sparkle.

"Your daughter is restless today."

He looks up at you, not without lingering for a moment on your breasts and their new shape.

"My daughter?" he asks, one eyebrow raised inquisitively.

"I'm convinced it's a girl. You reply, smiling wryly, and take a seat in the armchair next to the one where Aemond and your son are sitting, facing the fireplace. "And she took after her father, given her temper," you tease him, your hand on the top of your rounded belly to soothe the baby growing there. 

Rhaegar's eyes close slowly. Nestled against the chest of the man who, just a few months ago, was still a stranger, he fights sleep, he fights to stay awake, but tiredness quickly overcomes him. And then he falls asleep, his mouth half open, the movements of his breath making his chest rise and fall rhythmically.

Aemond finally gets up. You follow his movements with your eyes as he approaches you, the child in his arms, and he plants a kiss on the top of his head.

"I'm going to put him to bed. I'll be right back." He straightens and lowers his voice.

"I wouldn't fail in my duty and neglect my wife." The heat rises to your cheeks, turning them red at the implication of what awaits you tonight. You're already wet between your thighs at the thought. 

But you nod in agreement and watch him walk away. 

You are left alone in the silence of the room. The only sound around you is the steady crackling of the fire.

It's strange, you think, to be back on Dragonstone, in the familiarity of the stones you've spent most of your life between, after getting used to the idea of not surviving the war.

To the idea of dying from a broken heart.

To the idea of dying, the umpteenth victim of the vicious spiral of conflict that has torn your family apart.

And yet here you are.

With your own family.

For once you have hope for the future. You hear the cries of your little brother, lost in the storm so long ago, but they are quickly replaced by the laughter of a happy memory. 

And finally, you have the absolute confirmation that you have made the right decision.

*** *** *** *** ***

Thank you so much for reading!! <3

Tag list : @minttea07 @queenofshinigamis (I'm tagging you since you asked for it ❤️)

[wasawattpadkid]

OMG YOU’RE WRITING IS SO EFFING GOOD I can’t stop coming back to your page. Can you possibly do a poly ghost face x fem reader⚠️ prompt being something like “do you think they can hear us through the tent?” Friend group going camping. I think it would be a dangerous situation but exciting.

Thank you so much you're too sweet! I hope I did your request justice! 💕 Thanks for the ask!

Voices Carry

Summary: A camping trip can be stressful and painful. With Billy being the mule of the group his back ached. You and Stu were just the ones to help with that.

Pairing: Poly!ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings: ⚠️smut 18+⚠️ explicit boyxboy, unsafe sex, slight degrading, slight praise, rough sex, tears, cum, p in v, oral (male receiving), after care, vulgar language, threesome, power dynamics

"I hate fucking bugs." Billy said as he swatted the gnats away from his face. "How do you get their little legs apart?" Stu laughed at his own joke earning silence from the kids around him. "Lighten up guys. This'll be fun, we're going to have s'mores tonight!" It seemed you and Sydney were the only ones happy about the camping trip. "Yeah, we'll sit around the campfire and tell scary stories. You're good at that, aren't you babe?" You looked at Billy and Stu letting them know you were talking about both of them. "Damn right I am." Stu threw his arm over your shoulder. You hadn't told your friends about dating the two boys, it was only official with Stu. However they all knew about your sleeping habits.

"This is exactly how Friday the 13th started. If this were a movie we'd be doomed." Randy exclaimed as he held Sydney's hand. "I'm the only single one here I'm already doomed." Tatum took a swig of her almost empty soda bottle. "James Dean back there is single. Ask him out." Randy pointed towards Billy who wore a plain t-shirt paired with distressed blue jeans. Tatum looked at the boy with something close to disbelief. Billy shot her a tight lipped smile with raised eyebrows as he shrugged his shoulders. "He's not exactly my type." Stu laughed pointing at your shared boyfriend. "Ooh burn!"

"Since when did you get picky about boys?" Randy asked earning a slap to the back of the head. "Ow you know that actually really hurt." Billy smiled looking at his boots as they crunched the greenery beneath them. "You deserved that one bud." Tatum nodded agreeing with you. Sydney checked her map making sure you were walking in the right direction. "Can we keep moving my back is killing me?" Billy complained looking at the lousy tour guide. "I'll take it from you buddy." Stu reached out touching his partner's shoulder. You and the group were walking ahead when you heard Stu yelp behind you. Everyone turned seeing Stu hold his hand in pain as Billy chuckled to himself. "He bit me!"

Eventually you and the gang found a decent place to set up camp. "Does anyone here know how to set up a tent?" Randy asked having no clue where to start. "Does anyone know how to set up a tent?" Stu mocked the boy earning a laugh from the girls. "No dipshit, we all just walked miles with tents on our back to use as fire wood. Of course we know how to set up a tent, we're actually men." Stu flexed his arm showing off the muscle. "Does your masculine overcompensation ever get embarrassing?" Tatum quipped making Stu's face drop. "Jokes on you I don't know what that means." He stuck out his tounge making her scoff.

"Think fast Stu." Billy called pitching his bag to Stu. "Who's sleeping where?" Tatum asked noticing the two unmade tents. "Y/n's crashing with us. So I guess that leaves you, Sydney, and twiddle dumb." Randy nodded used to Stu's obnoxious jokes. "Real cute Macher." Stu framed his face with his hands showing off his teeth. "I try!" You rolled your eyes heading over to Billy helping him with the tent. "Awful big hammer you've got there." You bumped his shoulder as your friends continued their bickering. Billy shook his head with a laugh. "You and him are just alike." He said referring to Stu.

"I'd like to think I'm a little hotter." You said sitting down on the ground. Billy raised up stretching his back. He used the back of his forearm to swipe the sweat from his forehead. You were caught up in watching him when a loud crash grabbed your attention. "Are you okay Randy?" His girlfriend asked as he lay beneath the crumpled tent. "I'm fine!" He called out as Stu hit the ground laughing. After about 30 minutes or so both tents were set up. You and Tatum could've helped but watching the boys argue over who could do what was better.

Sydney started on the fire as it began to get dark. "I'll get sticks for s'mores!" You jumped up going on a hunt for skewers. "Ew I'm not putting that in or around my food." Tatum said thinking her friends were crazy. "If you're worried about germs the fire kills almost any bacteria on your food." Billy pinched the bridge of his nose. "How do you think they did it back in the old days Tate?" Stu asked sitting next to the girl. "I don't know doofus I wasn't around back then." You came back handing each person their own stick. The night continued with everyone having a drink or two and eating s'mores. Billy chased Randy around with a stick on fire as Stu cheered him on and Sydney told him to stop.

"Is this thing safe to sleep in?" Tatum asked as she looked inside of the tent Randy put up. "Yes it's safe to sleep in." Randy said aggravated that his work was thought so little of. "It looks great." Sydney kissed his cheek making his sour mood fade. "Alright well we're going to get some sleep." Billy smacked the tops of his thighs as he stood up. "If the tent starts a-rockin don't come a-knockin." Stu stuck his tongue out at the teenagers causing everyone including you make a face. "Get your ass in the tent." You smacked his arm making him laugh. You and Billy laid down pillows and blankets trying to figure out how to make the sleeping arrangement comfortable.

"I call dibs on the middle." Stu threw himself down wincing once he realized you could still very much feel the earth underneath the tent. "In your fucking dreams, she always gets middle." Billy kicked his partner trying to get him to move. "It's not that big of a deal I can sleep anywhere." You shrugged making both boys huff out a laugh. "Yeah we know. You slept the whole way up here." That was true. Traveling long distances always made you drowsy. "That just means I'm not tired now." Billy immediately looked at Stu who was grinning up at you. You turned around grabbing your backpack off the ground. The bright red pack of cards revealed itself as you pulled them from the bag. "I brought uno!" You said happily as Stu groaned and Billy couldn't help but laugh.

"I win again. Are you colorblind or something?" Billy shuffled the cards like a dealer in Vegas. You carefully watched his hands as they played with the cards. "Take a picture it'll last longer." Billy smirked seeing you staring out of the corner of his eye. "Oh sorry." You fixed your posture out of embarrassment. "It's all good." Billy's voice was low trying to stay quiet but it made you want to scream. "Are we playing another round or what?" Billy's question made Stu throw his head back with a whine. "I rather cover myself in peanut butter and go running out there than play another game of this shit." Normally you'd snap at him for complaining but all you could do was look at him. His head was tilted back showing off his neck while his tank top let your eyes run down the obvious veins on his arms. "Is anybody else hot in here?" You pinched your shirt shaking the fabric hoping to cool yourself off.

Stu perked up as Billy put away the cards. "You could take of your clothes off." Billy looked at Stu letting him know not to be pushy. "What! I'm just trying to help my girlfriend." Stu put his hand over his heart trying to seem genuine. While the boys bickered you pulled your top off showing off your black sports bra. "I didn't think you'd actually do it." Stu bit his lip as he scanned the new skin on display. "Relax I'm just getting ready for bed." The way your head was running with wild thoughts you needed the sleep. You stripped off down to your underwear knowing how hot it gets sleeping in between Billy and Stu. "It's supposed to get down in the 40s tonight." Billy warned taking off his jeans and switching them to sweatpants.

"We'll keep you warm babe." Stu kissed your neck looking at Billy as if to say "shut the fuck up." Billy shook his head peeling the white shirt from his torso. The muscles in his back contracted as he rolled his shoulders. All day he had been tense. He wasn't sure if it was the constant social interaction or the 50 pound backpack he had to hike with. Stu left you sitting on the sleeping mat as he switched out of his clothes. "Billy come here." You waved him over seeing he was uncomfortable. He walked over to you not knowing what you wanted. "Sit down I'm going to see if I can help you." Stu scoffed as Billy sat with his back towards you. "He needs more help than you can give him."

Billy flipped off his friend as Stu continued to change. "Is it your shoulders or what?" Billy leaned his head over trying to stretch out his neck. "It's mostly my neck and my shoulders. They've been bothering me all damn day." You placed your hands on his shoulders slowly rubbing out the tension with your thumbs. Billy's eyes closed in hopes the dark would make the pain a little more bearable. Stu was left in nothing but his boxers as he watched his partners. "Is that helping at all?" You wanted to make sure you weren't hurting him. "Yeah." He moaned in pain. Both you and Stu immediately looked at each other knowing how that sounded. With a nod Stu asked you to do it again.

You repeated the pattern on his shoulder pressing down on a certain spot. Another groan left Billy's lips. Billy wasn't aware of the effect he was having on you and Stu. The short haired boy walked over sitting in front of his boyfriend. Billy opened one eye looking at Stu with suspicion. "What are you doing?" He didn't trust Stu when he had that sort of hellish gleam in his eyes. "Me? Oh nothing." Stu responded as you continued to massage Billy's shoulders. "I doubt that- ah!" He exclaimed his head lulling back in pain. You didn't know if it was wrong that his pain turned you on but you were glad you weren't the only one. You pressed a kiss to Billy's neck which brought a smile to his face.

Stu's movement however wasn't as innocent. His hand rubbed against the crotch of Billy's sweatpants making the boy between you two sigh. "We can't do this right now. They'll hear us." Billy said making no move to stop either of you. You had given up trying to suppress the hunger that had consumed you all day. Billy's breath was ragged as Stu continued to rub his growing erection. You smiled against Billy's skin before whispering next to his ear. "Are you telling me you can't be quiet?" Stu tugged at Billy's waistband signaling the boy to raise his hips. Once he did Stu tugged his pants down his legs and off to the side of the tent. "I can be quiet but I know you can't." Billy bit back as his eyes closed tight trying to figure out how he could gain some control. "Who said anything about me?" You whispered as Stu pulled Billy's cock from his uncomfortably tight briefs. "Fuck..." Billy groaned knowing he lost whatever game you two were playing.

You went back to kissing and biting Billy's neck as Stu began to slide his hand up and down the boy's cock. Stu looked at you with a sense of astonishment in his eyes. Billy was a control freak in and out of the bedroom. He was always on top barking orders unless you physically tied him down. So for this to be happening was like lighting in a bottle. Stu scooted down licking a stipe up the boy's shaft. Billy's abs contracted as his hips rolled upwards. You watched happily as Stu's tongue swirled around the tip of Billy cock smearing the bead of precum around his skin. A small gasp could be heard coming from the man under your touch.

His knuckles were white as they gripped the sheets beneath him. It took every ounce of strength not to throat fuck the man who continuously teased him. Stu sat up leaving Billy needy but he'd die before he begged. "Lay back." Stu said making you move out of the way. Billy's back hit the mat as he looked up at the both of you. That little red tint on his cheeks made him look insanely attractive. "Well are you two assholes going to do anything or do I need to get myself off?" The smirk on Billy's face somehow made his words endearing. Stu leaned over whispering instructions in your ear. With wide eyes you looked up at the man. "Go ahead."

You pulled off your underwear leaving them where they dropped. Billy quickly ridded himself off his underwear leaving himself completely naked in front of you and Stu. You walked over to the man on the ground straddling his hips. Your lips connected with his greedily. Billy grabbed his cock running the tip up and down your folds making you moan into his mouth. Without a warning he slipped the tip into your entrance. You sat up properly lining him up before slowly sinking down on his cock. Billy let out what could only be described as a growl through gritted teeth. You started to rock your hips back and forth letting your clit rub against his skin.

Stu walked over helping you out of your bra as you continued your movements. Leaning down he pressed a kiss to your lips before he got rid of his own underwear. Billy watched as you pumped Stu's cock with one hand, the other rested on Billy's abdomen keeping your balance. Your lips wrapped around the tip of Stu's cock, your tongue running flat against the slit. The warmth from your cunt and the sight in front of him almost made Billy cum. "I need you to move." Billy spoke, his voice deep and worn.

You pulled your mouth off of Stu's length with a pop. "What's the magic word?" You teased. "Fuck you." Billy spat appalled you thought that'd work on him. You squeezed around his cock making a slight whimper leave his lips. "Say please." Your eyes hardened waiting to hear the word come from him. "You're a fucking bitch." He sighed in defeat. "Please." His voice was shaky only making his plea hotter. "Good boy." You tapped his cheek making his nostrils flare in anger. His fingers dug into your thigh sure to leave bruises. You started to bounce as Stu shoved his cock back in your mouth. With a grip on your hair he paced himself. Moans were loud against the tent as your thighs started to burn.

"Just like that." Stu moaned as you hollowed out your cheeks. Tears began to well up in your eyes making the world around you blurry. You looked up at Stu seeing him smile down at you. "You're so beautiful with my cock in your mouth." He complimented as Billy thrusted his hips upward. You moaned around Stu not being able to suppress your volume. "Shh." Stu wiped the tear that fell from your eye. His head lulled back with a silent moan. Billy shook beneath you needing to cum. "Stu.. I- I need her to move." His voice cracked as his restraint faltered. "Give me a damn minute." Stu had a habit of getting cocky. In a normal setting Billy would've immediately put an end to it. He'd didn't tolerate what he considered "bitchy behavior."

Stu continued to use your mouth however he pleased. "Y/n baby..." Billy softly spoke making you pull away from Stu. "Fuck!" Stu whisper yelled at the loss of your lips. Billy grabbed your waist easily pulling you off of him. He kissed your lips before he stood up. "Get on your fucking knees." Billy spat at Stu more than upset. Stu being smarter than he looked dropped to his knees in front of his boyfriend. Billy grabbed the mans face roughly squishing the delicate skin beneath his fingers. "Open. Tongue out." Stu obeyed his tongue hanging out allowing Billy's cock to easily slid in. Your fingers found your clit quickly circling the bud.

Billy was always more aggressive with Stu knowing he could and loved to take it. Billy's thighs trembled as he got close. "Y-Y/n come here please..." The willing politeness made you even hotter than before. You crawled over next to Stu sitting back on your heels. Billy pulled out from Stu's mouth letting you know exactly what he was doing. You opened your mouth with your tongue out much like your boyfriend next to you. Billy pumped his cock till ropes of cum hit both you and Stu.

He milked his orgasm till there was nothing left. Quickly you swallowed what hit your tongue not thinking of the taste. Stu seemed to have a mouth full as he swallowed. "That would be way easier with a chaser." Stu joked wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand. "Shut up." Billy said with a smile trying to clear the fog from his mind. Stu pressed his lips yours as he slowly pushed you back on the mat. Both of you had yet to finish and he was going to fix that.

His cock seemed to slam into you making your breath leave your body. He sat up holding your legs still. Stu's pace was quick and brutal making your moans come out in fractions. One of his hands fell between your legs playing with you clit. His thrusts never faltered as you slowly felt that familiar pressure build. Your face contorted in pleasure signaling you were close. Stu's free hand covered your mouth knowing how loud you could get. That band seemed to snap within you making chills cover your body. You cried out into his palm as he continued his thrusts. Once your orgasm had passed he pulled out finishing over your stomach.

Stu gasped for air not being able to breathe. He fell over on the mat trying to catch his breath. It'd be awhile since he had an orgasm so strong. Billy went into his backpack pulling out the wet wipes he had brought. The cloth was freezing against your warm skin. A small wince left your lips as he cleaned up the mess his partner made. "I know baby..." He whispered. Billy pitched the cloth to the corner of the tent telling himself he'd get it in the morning. Billy fell between you and Stu before pulling a blanket to cover you and him. "That was fucking awesome." Stu exclaimed finally getting ahold of the air he urgently needed. "You okay?" Billy asked you seeing the permanent smile plastered on your face. "I think we broke her Macher." He smiled glad everyone enjoyed themselves. Stu curled up next to Billy pulling the blanket over his lower half.

"Do you hear that?" You asked the boys listening to the soft sound of grunting. "Holy shit." Billy said as Stu giggled. "Here I was worried they could hear us." You said laughing. Your head rested on Billy's chest listening to his heartbeat. The three in the other tent went at it for another 5 minutes making you and your boyfriends laugh. Stu was the first to fall asleep, softly snoring into his pillow. "That was okay wasn't it?" Billy asked again. He could be really assertive and aggressive during sex but afterwards he'd make sure everyone was okay. You pressed a kiss to his cheek. "It was great. I'm just a little sore." Stu wasn't a careful person. He could be extremely rough but he never meant to be. You knew tomorrow he'd be carrying you around saying he was sorry for being so careless.

"Do you need anything before I fall asleep?" His voice became deep with sleep. "No I don't think so." He kissed the top of your head before getting comfortable. Within 10 minutes you were both fast asleep.

The morning sun was unforgiving. The tent did little to nothing when it came to shielding you from the light. "Morning sunshine!" Stu said looking down at your naked body. "Good morning pervert." He leaned down pressing a kiss to your lips. "Sydney made coffee if you want some." You looked to your left noticing the lack of Billy. Stu noticed your concern. "He's already up. Tatum and Randy are still sleeping." He laughed thinking of last night. You nodded letting Stu leave before you got dressed.

"Good morning." Sydney said both of you shared a moment of silent acknowledgment. "Morning." She handed you a cup of coffee which you thanked her for. Tatum erupted from the tent ready to fight anyone who said something. "Did you have a good night last night?" Stu asked making Billy look at the ground with a smile. "Suck a dick Stu. Oh wait, you did." Tatum said almost making you choke on your drink. Billy couldn't help but laugh with Sydney. "That wasn't even that funny." Stu said disappointed in his friends. Randy was the next to leave the tent earning a high five from Stu. "Randy my man!" You rolled your eyes sipping on your drink.

The day dragged on with everyone going swimming and later eating hot dogs. By the end of the day everyone was on good terms even laughing about the night previous. Sydney snapped some photos of the group making sure everyone had atleast one polaroid to take home. Billy looked down at the picture in his hand. Everyone was smiling and having fun. He hated to say it but he might just go camping again.

[lowkeyremi]

OK HEAR ME OUT! Reader who is a single mother of one of Aizawa’s students X Aizawa???? PLEASE I need it!

IM IN LOVE WITH YOU YES OMG I NEED THIS anon im giving you kisses rn

Aizawa x fem!reader (also your denki's mom bc why not)

A small sigh escapes your lips as you pull into the parking lot of your son's school, it's still early in the year and his teacher has requested to meet with you.

He doesn't even have to explain why you're here because you already have a good idea: Denki's grades.

You smooth out your skirt and double check that your blouse is buttoned all the way. Security stopped you at the gate which took around ten minutes to defuse, they honestly thought you looked too young to be anyone's mother.

Thirty-two is a bit young to have a fifteen year old but you know how it goes: unprotected sex = baby. It's the same old story, your boyfriend freaked out and dipped on you.

It made you proud Denki got into a school like this, your goal is for him to further his education... something you never got the chance to do.

Finding his classroom was a whole other situation. UA is HUGE. So poor you is walking around every corner looking for class "1-A".

"Are you lost?" A voice loud and energetic asked, it caused you to jump in your skin. When you turn your head you see blond hair sticking upward toward the ceiling and a pair of goofy shades. He notices your giggle and quirks an eyebrow.

"Are you a new student?!" The blond questions, his face is full of energy and excitement.

"No.. do I really look that young?" You ask, smile bright.

"You do look pretty young." As soon as he says that it dawns on him that you might be a younger mother.

"Ah- sorry! I just-"

"Don't worry about it. I was actually looking for class 1-A, my son's teacher requested to meet with me." His eyes widen.

"Don't you worry, I can take you to Eraserhead's class!" With that you follow him down a flight of stairs and you guys turn like four corners. Well damn, you were way off.

You had been too caught up into your thoughts to realize he stopped, you bumped right into him.

"Sorry." He gives you a soft smile, "It's nothing!"

He knocks loudly, "Oh, Eraser! You have a visitor!" The blond doesn't even wait for a response to open the door, he just bursts in.

"Well I've gotta go now! Take care Miss..."

"L/n, the name's L/n." A thumbs up is sent your way before the loud blond man leaves.

A deep voice causes your brain to stir, "Thank you for coming on such a short notice, Miss L/n."

And what the fuck because Denki's teacher has beautiful long black hair, stubble, and a little scar under his right eye. He must be married you assume, because no way a handsome man like him is single.

You respond with confidence in your voice, "Of course, I apologize for keeping you waiting. I got lost."

His face softens as he motions for you to sit on the chair he's placed by his desk.

"Understandable, UA is not small. Let's get down to business, shall we?" He sits at his desk, organizing some papers before handing you a few. You feared the worst, Denki always strived to do his best so you shouldn't have anything to even fear.

"My students have been under attack a few times by villians, we've spoke to the board about the situation, because parents are worried about their children." You were relieved this had nothing to do with his grades but it scared you that villians were out for high schoolers.

"I thought the attacks stopped." Aizawa nods at you.

"They have for the time being but we fear they won't completely stop, which is why UA is building a dormitory system to keep students safe. What I've handed you is the consent form for your son to live on campus. It's not manditory but it is highly suggested." He explains to you and you read the pages.

"How do I know Denki will be in good hands?" You ask biting your lip, it doesn't go unnoticed by Aizawa because his eyes flicker to your lips then back up to your face.

"I understand what it's like to lose someone close to you, which is why I put so much effort and care into my students, they may say and think otherwise but they don't see what happens behind the scenes." You could tell his words were sincere, it wasn't convincing enough though. You worry too much about him and just the mere thought of losing him is enough to scare you.

Aizawa leans in to place a hand on yours, it feels tingly.

"I know all you have is my word to go off of, but I promise you I will protect your son and all my other students with my life." His eyes burn into yours. You get lost in those beautiful black eyes.

"Uh- hah. I'll look over the papers."

In the end you sign the papers.

"Mom you have to tell me who's taking you to dinner!" Denki says for the millionth time over the phone. You call him almost every night to check in on him.

"It's none of your business, young man." You'd tell him when you were ready. Just... not now. He'd freak out if he knew you were going out to dinner with his teacher.

Before you left that day, Aizawa asked for your number. You happily gave it to him, there was no way in hell you'd miss out on a chance like that.

After a month of just talking (and flirting) he asked you out for dinner, you agreed of course.

"But mommmmmm why nottttttt?" Denki whined.

"I'll tell you when we're ready. Anyways I have to go. Take care, sweetheart." He sighs but tells you he loves you. "I love you too, Denki." He hangs up, leaving you to finish your makeup.

The plan was originally to meet at dinner, but Aizawa was not letting up until you agreed that he could pick you up.

Your hands were starting to sweat again. It's normal to be this nervous, right? Dating hadn't really been in your line of vision while raising a child. It seemed to be the same process: go out with someone, get along nicely, start developing real feelings, they find out you have a son, they leave.

It seemed refreshing to finally go out with someone who knew you were raising a young man. Waiting it out seems to have been the right choice. Aizawa is a mature man.

The door bell rings and you shoot up out of your seat like a rocket.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck, I look okay right?" It felt weird to ask your reflection, but self love is everything these days.

Your burgundy v cut dress was a bit on the short side, it hugged your body which made you a little insecure. You'd heard some women say pregnancy made them glow. You were convinced otherwise, it took you some time to finally feel beautiful.

Your walk to the door was dreadful, what if he takes it all back? Upon opening the door he was standing there in all his beauty. His raven colored hair was put up in a messy bun, his stubble cleaned up some, and he looked a little less tired. Your eyes inched down his body, he's wearing a white button up and black slacks.

"You're beautiful." The two of you say at the same time. Your eyes widen.

"Thank you, I was actually kind of nervous." His face softens at your words. The hero holds his hand out so you can take it. Just like the last time his hand was warm and made you feel tingly. You chuckled at how dumb that sounded, definitely sounds like something from a cheesy romance novel.

Dinner was a little awkward but beyond amazing. A waitress spilled wine on you, she apologized like a million times. You weren't mad though, having a son meant many messes were made... especially on you. The wine didn't stain that bad because of your dress color.

Aizawa offered you the jacket he kept in his car. Accepting it was a no brainer. He held it out for you and you gave him a confused look.

"I'll put it on you, come here." His voice was low and seductive. He noticed your smile. "You're so cute." He whispers as you put your arms in the jacket sleeves.

"Only cute?" Your question was followed by your signature smirk. The food was paid for, his hand wrapped around your waist and he walked you two to his car.

"Sexy, funny, chatty.... I could go on." He says with a smug smile.

"Oh stop it, I'm not sexy-" You don't get to finish your sentence, Aizawa twirls you around so you guys are facing each other. His hands rest on your hips for a second and in a flash he's cupping your face.

Your heart started beating a mile per minute... no second. He slowly pulls you in, those lazy eyes looking into yours. His lips look so kissable.

You pucker your lips and he presses his lips to yours, there weren't any fireworks or sparks like in Disney movies, it felt like he was one with you. Your body was connected to his in a way.

When the kiss is over he's staring at you, "you are sexy, I don't know who's lied to you."

__________

When he pulls into your driveway, you realize this date is almost over. Hopefully he'll agree to going out again. He seemed to enjoy the night as much as you did.

He walked you up to your door, eyes trained on you.

Your feet stop on your doormat. It felt like you were stuck in cement.

"Will I be seeing you again, Aizawa?"

"Call me Shota, and yes, I'll be seeing you again." He faces you and kisses you again. A sigh of relief escapes your lips.

"Call me." You say and he hums in acknowledgement.

Maybe... trying again at dating won't hurt you.

Hiii anon, I hope you like this!! I don't think this has been my best work but I think it shouldn't be that bad? Lol imagine how Denki would react when he finds out you're with his teacher. Love you guys, working on Teacher's Assistant ch. 1

[pink-amethyst-tarot]

♡ Message From Your Soulmate ♡ 

Take what resonates and leave the rest and know that you're the one in control of your life at the end of the day. . . .

P I L E 1 - Through the Fire

Five of Pentacles, Wheel of Fortune (Reversed), Page of Cups, The High Priestess, Justice

Okay. First off, your person wants to say that you are their gift and that you are their surprise. They are so lucky to have you! (omg, I'm gonna cry!!!) Your person is saying that they know that you feel like they have abandoned you and you may have doubts about if this person even exists. They do exist. Your person is real, and they are working so hard to get to you. There have been delays in your union because you are trying to be too in control of the situation. Your person wants you to focus on your own growth and being the best version of yourself for yourself. They are going to come in so unexpectedly and it's going to feel so magical. This is not an ex. I'm serious. Let it go. I'm also getting the communication will be so good and so full of passion and romance! Your person wants you to listen to your inner voice and find the strength to be who you really are. You can look forward to learning a lot from each other. There is a balance in this relationship that you may not be used to. This person sees you as their equal. For some of you, there is a specific person who comes to mind when you read about soulmates, divine counter parts and the person that you want to spend this lifetime and every lifetime with. I want you to know that you aren't crazy. It's them. Just give them some time. Everything is going to work out and you will be together.

Extra channeled message: I love you, I love you, I love you, my sweet star. Hold on to me as tightly as I am holding on to you. Just remembering that you are out there for me, keeps me going; keeps me coming toward you.

Channeled Song: Through The Fire - Chaka Khan

Through the fire, to the limit, to the wall// For a chance to be with you// I'd gladly risk it all// Through the fire Through whatever, come what may// For a chance at loving you I'd take it all the way// Right down to the wire// Even through the fire//

if you want a personal reading, you can e-mail me at pinkamethysttarot@gmail.com

if you feel called to tip, you can on c@sh@pp at $oddlycozycottage

P I L E 2 - my love is mine, all mine

King of Pentacles, Temperance, The Chariot, Ten of Cups, Nine of Pentacles (Reversed), Strength

Baby, you are so safe with me. Your person is so sweet and kind! I'm getting that they are a protector and very cuddly. I am going to be so gentle and so caring with you. You will never have to worry about anything when you are with me. Even if I am not with you, consider it taken care of. I am getting that this person has always been yours. In every lifetime, they have found you and made you so damn happy. This lifetime will be no different! Every universe, every life; I will love you, deeply. I cannot wait to grow old together. This person is a very dominate type, especially when it comes to you. One who likes to take the lead... in more ways than one. (my lord...) Your soulmate sees you as their happiest ending and they want you to know that they will never truly be happy if they don't have you. Unlike the previous pile, I am getting the energy of this being someone that you may know already, maybe even someone who is currently an ex. They have changed in some way, or the stars have aligned for you two to be together again. I'm getting that this person is really successful. Like... really freakin' successful. On the outside looking in, this person seems to have it all, but they don't feel complete because they don't have you but once they do, they are never going to let you go. You are theirs. (Okay, maybe this person is a little bit possessive but not in a toxic way. Definitely set boundaries about that kind of thing.) This love is so strong, so powerful. Wow.

Extra Channeled Message: You have consumed me; mind, body and soul, you have consumed me. You make ruins of me, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I gladly give you my heart to do as you please. If all I can have of you is your destruction of my heart, I will take it. You have me.

Channeled Song - My Love Mine All Mine - Mitski

My baby, here on earth// Showed me what my heart was worth// So, when it comes to be my turn// Could you shine it down here for her?

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P I L E 3 - My babe would have me

Eight of Swords, Nine of Cups, The Chariot, Seven of Wands, Knight of Pentacles

I have been through a lot when it comes to love. My heart has been broken over and over again but with you, it's different. You are a dream come true, my love. There is an energy present that is telling me that your person is going through a lot right now. It feels like a Dark Night of the Soul. They are definitely going to come out on top though. They are a fighter, and they have the upper hand in whatever they are dealing with. Part of the reason that they are doing this work is because they want to be the best for you. They want to be good enough for you. (Even though they already are!) This person is worried that they aren't good enough and that you will leave them or won't choose them! They are so sure about you though. They know that you are what they want in this world. They are working hard on a lot of parts of themselves because you are so worth it. I feel like, just like the previous pile, you may already know or be in union with this person or this may be about an ex. Like, I need you know that this person is working so hard. They are going to show, not tell you how much they have changed. Like this is a whole new person.

Extra Channeled Message: I want you to know that yes, I am working on me so that I can be better for you but it's also for me, too. It has been so hard to go through this healing, but it has been worth it, and I am glad I decided to change. I am glad that I decided to heal, and I like the person that I am now and who I am becoming. I am going to make sure we have a really good life together, my love. I refuse to make your day harder or to make you cry. You are far too precious for that. I love you to the moon and back.

Channeled Song: Work Song - Hozier

My babe would never fret none// About what my hands and my body done// If the Lord don't forgive me// I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me//

if you want a personal reading, you can e-mail me at pinkamethysttarot@gmail.com

if you feel called to tip, you can on c@sh@pp at $oddlycozycottage

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. THESE READINGS ARE FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. no guarantees are implied. These readings are not a substitute or replacement for any professional help or services. My readings are not a substitute for any form of professional legal, medical/psychiatric, relationship, religious/spiritual or financial/ business advice nor consultations. You should always see a professional legal/trained adviser for help in any matter. I am not responsible for any decisions/ actions you take.

page dividers created by @bunnysrph and @eloquentreverie

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 112 }

the question.

lies of p.

(p)inocchio x fem.reader

anonymous asked: you know that part from casper 1995, where casper and cat are dancing then he leans in and whispers "can i keep you?"

Iike omg imagine pino saying that?? I feel like it fits him so perfectly, an innocent little line cuz while it isn't the typical i love you etc, it just works for him :')

it was during those rare moments that you allowed your mind to wander, staring outside the windows of hotel krat as you kept yourself busy with your sketchbook on hand.

rain fell across the city of krat, painting it in somber hues of grey as your eyes continued to sketch the city. despite the tragedy that befell of krat, you still found it to be beautiful, and sketching it gave you a wonderful reprieve from your main muse.

from the corner of your eyes, you watch as the tall puppet with deep chestnut hair stood beside antonia, the kind lady of this hotel who allowed you to stay here along with the other guests. you were truly struck upon seeing someone so achingly beautiful, and that was when your fascination for the puppet spiraled into something you couldn't quite control.

you trail your eyes back to the pages of your sketchbook, flipping it back to reveal some sketches you had drawn of pinocchio. ever since the moment you laid eyes on him, you were inexplicably drawn to him. despite being a mere puppet, perhaps master geppetto's greatest creation yet, he appeared to be so much like a real boy. with chestnut hair that fell across his face, to the freckles that ran across the expanse of his skin like constellations, you could not keep your heart from pounding for pinocchio.

you were embarrassed to admit this, but pinocchio was your true muse. you adored sketching and drawing on your free time and saw it as a good hobby to pass the time with during these trying times, but you weren't expecting your fascination for pinocchio to go this far. each time the puppet would return back from his exploration through the dangers of krat, you would longingly sneak glances at him all while immortalizing his side profile within the pages of your sketchbook.

when pinocchio would notice you watching him, he would always meet your gaze. but you, feeling mortified at the thought of pinocchio ever seeing the details of your sketchbook, would always run away from him, not wishing to interact with him because god only knows how much your heart can handle.

he was simply too gorgeous for you.

it was silly, you knew that it was, since he was just a puppet. not only have you had a handful of interactions with him, but it seemed strange that your heart would pound at the mere sight of pinocchio. almost like you were... in love with him.

"is that...me?"

you could feel your blood turning into ice when a voice called out to you. it was a gentle voice, one that never spoke too often, yet the sound of it was enough to make a familiar warmth dust against your cheeks.

the secret you have been desperately trying to hide has just been found out by the person you kept running away from.

so caught up in your reveries, you look up to see pinocchio himself staring down at you. his sapphire blue eyes were a stark contrast to the stormy grey hues of the room, and you found yourself getting lost in them. it takes you several seconds to realize that he was still staring down at you and your sketch of him, which makes you panic even further.

"s-sorry! i don't m-mean to come off as strange or anything! i-it's just, you're achingly beautiful, p-pino, so that's why, i really really like sketching you! b-but i get shy so shy around you, that's why i'm always running away from you..."

your ramblings were not helping, and you were well aware of that. yet, you found that you just could not shut up, becoming even more flustered the longer pinocchio stared at you.

"i-i really am s-so sorry- ah?!"

you were abruptly interrupted upon feeling pinocchio's cold hand encircle your wrist, feeling him pulling you up into his arms with his strength alone. as your sketchbook fell against the marble floors of the hotel, you found yourself within his arms. your nose brushes against the cold skin of his cheek, and you look to your left to see pinocchio gazing at you. his blue gaze was unwavering as he held you in his arms, leading your hands around his waist before swaying with you across the hotel room.

you had to be dreaming, because there was no way you were dancing with pinocchio, the strange yet beautiful puppet who had stolen your heart.

you couldn't bring yourself to look at him directly, becoming even more flustered as you cleared your throat to ask, "w-where did you learn this?"

pinocchio twitches slightly, still keeping his hold on you before admitting, "lady antonia told me i should do this if i wanted to get closer to you."

"o-oh..." was all you could manage to say.

your heart was pounding wildly against your chest, your parted lips open in a dreamy sigh as you followed pinocchio's lead. being so close to him, you could see the painstaking details of his features, and you had an almost irrational desire to trace your lips against those endearing freckles, never stopping until you touched each and every one of them.

with a whisper of his name, you press a gentle kiss against his cheek, seeing pinocchio's eyes widen for the briefest of moments before sliding your eyes shut. as pinocchio continues to dance with you across the room, you press your head against his chest, hearing the gentle ticking of his mechanical heart. you were so happy that he was real, that he existed and was here with you now, dancing with you while setting your heart aflame with emotion.

"can i keep you?"

the gentle voice was heard once more, and you found yourself opening your eyes to meet with pinocchio's. he stopped dancing, remaining still as he continued to hold you in his arms. a gentle smile paints his rosy lips, and you found yourself falling for him all over again.

he was so achingly adorable that you couldn't help but tease him a bit, leaning in closer as your lips were a mere centimeters away from his when you tell him, "you may keep me as long as i get to keep you."

a.n. - they're in love, your honor 🥹 this is unedited, but i hope you readers don't mind this achingly soft story.

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

❝ just wanna be one of your toys, tonight❞

creepypasta x incubus!reader | drabble, how you meet, general dating headcanons | graphic descriptions of violence, descriptions of nsfw/smut | not proofread

warnings: yandere tendencies, unhealthy relationship habits but it's okay because everyone in this fic is unhinged, cannibalism with a sexual context, piquerism/knife kink, tentacles, teratophilia, pheromones used by r!, canon violence, LJ's section alludes to r! mutilating a p*de,Slenderman controls r!s food intake (?), guys this is kind of messed up pls

Eyeless Jack | Jeff The Killer | Laughing Jack | Slenderman | Toby Rogers

req: OMG. creepypasta fics. i love them. can you uhmmm. can you write headcanons for an incubus reader. with like eyeless jack, toby, masky and hoodie? ignore this if you dont do that sorta stuff im just jumping on a request train rn ghnjgjkejnjngf

authors note: unfortunately, I'm not super informed about the Marble Hornet boys so I did not include them ;'3 Also I did want to do the typical sexy incubi reader but then I didn't so enjoy demonic, somewhat feral, reader and his equally as fucked up lovers

Eyeless Jack —

There was silence when you first laid your eyes on him. As you're both demons who preyed on humans, it was akin to throwing two hungry wolves into a fighting ring.

Your prey, emphasis on yours, had been yours for damn near a week. You've been sneaking into their dreams, draining them of slivers of their essence by bringing them to climax in their wildest dreams. They would grin brightly the first few times but as the week progressed, they began realizing how exhausted they felt and those sexy wet dreams suddenly felt more morbid than exciting.

So your lips curl as you hunch over their head and bare your mouth full of fangs. Your hiss sounds like nails on a chalkboard and your jaw unhinging more than humanely possible as your forked tongue drips with viscous liquid. Jack steps back, his scalpel glinting in the moonlight as he returns the hiss with a gravelly snarl.

Oh, people think of "Sex on Legs" of a man when they imagine an incubus. That's the aim of your pheromones and magic after all. Everyone's ideal of a masculine body is what you morph into. Muscular, fat, hairy, clean-shaven, short or tall; whatever their genitals desire is what you distort their brain into seeing.

Your true form was a whole other story. You were a demon. It didn't matter if you were once human or if you were born in Hell itself. You were different now.

"They are mine," Your lips twitch and curl with every syllable. Fingers digging deeper into the skull of your prey. You don't know this demon's name and you're unsure of how strong he truly is but you dig your heels into the ground.

Jack pauses. His growling ceases as he loosens and tightens his grip on his scalpel.

He's had his run-ins with others "like" him. Eldritch beings, proxies of eldritch beings, and such others. However, incubi was new for him. He half-expected a stout creature with leathery wings and horns like those illustrations in the yellow pages of demonology books.

"...What do you need from them?" He wants to bargain. He doesn't have to but he does anyway. Partly from curiosity and partly from his own hunger...for you.

He wonders what you taste like. Jack wouldn't admit it then but he licked his needle-sharp fangs at the thought of your flesh in his mouth and your blood flowing down his throat like the most decadent wine.

"Soul," you answer as a sickening crunch resounds through the room just as your index finger burrows deeper, "Their brain, need".

"Good, I don't need that." Jack points the sharp end of his scalpel to his stomach. "Here, everything I need is here," he then aims his weapon at you with a loose grip; "Share, yes?"

Your lips hide your fangs and you tilt your head, swaying your head as you try to weigh the options. Other demons could be rather tricky. Sharing wasn't in most of their vocabulary. However, this one was...different.

"Share, yes".

That is how the two of you met. His masked visage and the tar-like substance that escapes from his humanoid eye sockets intrigue you. You had watched him cut open your prey with medical precision so he could carefully remove the organ he craved.

"Name is...?" Jack's pointed ears twitch from beneath his hoodie. He turns his head towards yours and if he were human he might have flinched from the way your nose brushes the bump of his mask. But he isn't, so he doesn't.

"Jack. My name is Jack," he brings one leathery hand to rest upon your cheek. It stains your skin and Jack's thumb rests precariously close to your lower lash line. The silence is a prompt for you to continue and you whisper your name, chewing on your lower lip after which makes Jack scoff in mild amusement.

Your relationship initially begins due to Jack's desire. He craves you in such a visceral way he doesn't know what to do with it anymore. It pains him that he doesn't sleep because he is certain that the number of times he's unravelled at the thought of you should already beckon you into his brain. But Jack isn't a human.

He's a demon. So, he decides to use victims to lure you. He wasn't sure how to go on about it at first but after tilting his head down at the moaning woman writhing in her bed, whispering your name, he takes her to his home.

When you visit your prey's dreams it's plagued with images of the eyeless demon and once you manifest into thin air he wastes no time pinning you to the wall with his inhuman strength.

"Jack!" you snarl in alarm and he releases you, smiling. His blue mask was placed elsewhere, instead, he hid his eyes behind tattered bandages. His teeth were so sharp you felt yourself tense.

You become something akin to a pet. Jack learns how to keep you captive in his home, locked behind bars and ancient runes written in blood. Despite the lack of freedom, you couldn't say he doesn't spoil you.

He brings you his victims. Dazed from whatever supernatural effect he has and sore from his impromptu surgery. They always scramble in alarm, panicked and disorientated before they spot you.

Then, Jack relishes in your vicious lunges. Watches from the outside as you crush their skulls open to fill your stomach.

When he eventually makes you trust him enough (Stockholm Syndrome is one beautiful side effect) he brings you to hunts with him. You're the shadow that hangs upside down from the ceiling when his victims wake up and shake, paralyzed as Jack digs through their layers of skin, muscles and fat. Your grin is hauntingly ethereal and inhuman as you lean down to kiss their trembling lips.

Jack wonders if you smell his desire. You do. But it's normal. Your pheromones were meant to attract sexual partners after all but your gaze does linger on Jack the more the scent of charred earth burns whenever you're pressed to his back.

"Teasing me?" He would mutter. Silence would be his reply and all he'd feel is your supple skin brushing on his ashen grey skin, nosing insistently to his neck. "I know you can talk (Y/N)" his needle and thread continue threading through the patchwork of skin.

"Why won't you touch me?" that makes him freeze. Jack had thought about it. Every time he saw you kiss your victims, or rip them to shreds. You were fire dancing in the wind and Jack can't justify his need to own you but he doesn't care.

"Because if I touch you, I won't be able to stop"

"Who said I'd want you to stop?"

Jack tugs on the blood-soaked thread. It glints in the harsh lighting of his desk lamp, briefly looking like a sliver of light.

"I'll sink my teeth into you, tear you apart and consume you".

His head turns as you grab his chin. His bandages tugged away and you chuckled as you saw the ugly gored-out holes. He hasn't told you the whole story but you know what scars he did have were all human-made.

"You can take my flesh if you want, Jack".

The thread snaps.

Jack belatedly realises that since you were not human either, your resistance to pain was just as crazy as your regenerative abilities. He takes you in a way that feels genuinely primal. Two animals going at it, blood smeared along the floors and walls while claws and fangs puncture into flesh.

You two give sex a whole new meaning. Jack finishes inside of you as he laps up at the gash on your neck, groaning as his dexterous tongues (yes, tongues) feel your pulsing veins dancing on them. You encourage his ferocity with saccharine sweet calls of his name.

Sometimes, as silly as it sounds, you make him feel human again. He swears the shrivelled thing in his dusty ribcage beats thunderously whenever you dig your fingers into the back of his thighs.

You were a never-ending feast. A banquet he will never tire from. The cell he kept you in wasn't in use anymore but he swears if you ever even think of going away from his side he would keep you in there until the sun exploded.

There'll eventually be a balance in your relationship. Once you gain his trust, you might as well carve out his insides to nestle between his blackened bones and allow his tar-like blood to keep you warm. He'll do whatever it takes to ensure no one, human or non-human, will keep you apart.

He thinks it is absolutely healthy if you return the sentiment.

Jack doesn't stray from you. He is devoted. The type of person to ensure you're always full, from his essence or from others, he will provide whatever you need.

Close-promixity. He doesn't have to be touching you, just wants you near.

Will bite you. Hard. Not in a cute nibbling way. Legitimately bites you to sustain himself and thinks it's romantic that you're inside of him.

He is more human than you at times. He enjoys human comforts. The internet, a bed, a shower. He doesn't need it, you're both demons after all. But they're a luxury that he treasures.

If "others" wander into your territory, Jack's growls turn spine-chilling. A chittering, gravelly, snarl that heightens in volume as he curls his lips. He'll unmask, scalpel forgotten as veins bulge into the back of his hands and his footsteps suddenly get heavier. The one time someone had stumbled on you while you were feeding, you swore you saw wisps of black smoke smoulder from Jack's skin and the faint sound of fire crackling.

Miiight be the most protective one of the bunch.

You having sex with your prey does not bother Jack. Your sex with him is much more solidifying, oath-binding and skin-scarring. Besides, he knows you need actual souls to be sustained.

Jack's not sure how long he will be "alive" but if he's dying you're coming with him, (Y/N). He would burn the world down for you but death won't keep you apart.

Jeffery Woods, Jeff the Killer —

"What. The. Fuck?" Jeff's damaged facial muscles could barely twitch or tug on his cheeks due to his insane self-mutilation, however, he manages to furrow his brows hard enough that he feels his cheekbones spasm as they attempt to frown.

The married couple he had been stalking laid dead on their mahogany bed and there was some sort of freak over them.

Your eyes were almost as wide as his as you slip three of your fingers into your bloody mouth, sucking them clean with an obscene sigh of satisfaction.

"Too...late," Jeff's "nose" burns as he surges forward. His boots track mud and water across the bedroom and your grin is maniacal as he unsheathes his hunting knife from his hip.

"You fucking bitch!"

Truth be told, you spotted Jeff during one of your nightly visits to the husband's dreams. His white outfit contrasts so sharply in the dark it almost seems haughty. A little "look at me"-sy if you could put it into words.

Jeff brandishes his hunting knife and you twist out of the way to instead latch onto the ceiling. His bloodshot eyes earn a pleasant shiver that spreads warmth to the thing between your crotch.

He was goddamn grotesque. Skin leathery, eyes so painfully dry and irritated it rimmed red and that cut-up smile? His yellow teeth and red gums are splashes of colour since they're no longer hidden by his cheeks. His jet-black hair whips furiously against his face as one hand reaches up to grab your ankle.

Your yell is more of a screech and Jeff wrestles you on the body of the wife. Her bones and nipple piercings dig into your back as Jeff digs his knife into your shoulder.

"They were fucking mine! You goddamn cunt! Stupid little bitch!" he's more robust than a regular human. Then again, a regular human would've died from his "cosmetic" surgeries a while ago.

You can still his heartbeat in his chest though. Slow but there.

He pulls the knife out and you exclaim once he stabs you once again. The toothy edge of the blade was meant to inflict pain every time he pulled out and Jeff's cheeks lifted into a gleeful expression as he watched you writhe in pain.

But then.

"Mom?" Jeff locks up. You turn your head to the shadow under the door but Jeff puts the knife to your eye and your snarling lowers into a hissing.

Jeff does not hurt kids. The way he stares down at you with stormy grey blues shows that though he has no idea how to slaughter you he will try to if you even think of laying a hand on her. Much to his relief, you close your eyes and go lax.

You don't hurt kids either.

"Momma?" The doorknob shakes and Jeff knows the kid probably smells iron but the two of you are as rigid as the corpses on the bed.

"Did you need something, Kavi?" The voice that comes out your lips isn't yours, it's the father's and Jeff only loosens his grip from surprise. Kavi's feet shuffle nervously and whatever stuffy she's holding squeaks lightly in pressure. "I heard noises...screaming" She hears the smile in your voice as you tell her to go back to bed.

"But-"

"Go to sleep, Kavi" This time it's a command and Kavi's shadow straightens up before her footsteps fade away.

Jeff's breathing had slowed throughout the interaction. He's good at being quiet when he needs to be. Not so flashy when the situation calls for it. A soft spot for children. How noble.

He presses on your chest with the heel of his palm but then gets up and sighs as he runs his fingers through his hair. You turn onto your stomach, pushing the husband onto the floor as you watch Jeff glare at you with contempt as he paces.

"I've been watching them", Your eye roll makes him grunt. "I know, I saw. But, he's mine" He huffs at the sight of the twitching body on the floor. "Could've left me the wife, asshole" Jeff follows the trail of blood down your chest and stomach before ripping his eyes away as you pluck her eyes out to pop into your mouth.

Jeff swears he's never been harder.

"I was hungry".

Your grin like the cat that got the cream when Jeff rushes towards you and grabs the column of your neck to push you down.

For a guy who hasn't gotten laid, ever, he sure knew what to do. You helped, obviously. When Jeff's fingers tremble and hover you would goad him to do better, huff that you're getting bored and he needs to fuck your hole/s with more passion. That'd get that freak going.

He sure was in love with his knives too. Obsessed with the way you shiver and shudder every time the blade cuts into your skin or when he digs the tip of it in and you arch into the edge.

Jeff thinks his first time suits him. His life is fucked up in all sorts of ways so of course, his first time was with a demon. He remembers you bouncing on his lap, eyes glowing as you squeeze his dick and moan his name before he saw white.

When he wakes up, he shoots up straight and throws the rag away from his face. The bodies are stiff now and Kavi's older sister is pulling into the driveway. He wears his clothes and isn't quiet about it as he hears Kavi crying about nightmares while she rushes out.

Jeff's DNA being all-over the crime scene is something he does not give a shit about. What are the police going to do? Arrest a dead man? Hah! They'd need to catch him first and he's been dodging them since he was 13 years old and he's 24 now. They're shit at their job.

That one night spirals into Jeff fucking into his fists for a week straight. Unable to properly think without your whispers breezing past his ears in the wind. He's already insane but you've turned the broken notch higher.

Thankfully for him, you're just as hopeless. He isn't quite sure how long you've been stalking him but when he finally senses eyes on him he's excited because he knows it's you.

Your relationship is physical at first. Love isn't quite in either of your vocabulary but this relationship turns something close to it. He whispers your name in the wind and then he feels your weight on his back as your arms materialize from thin air and squeeze him.

"What do you need, executioner?" Jeff snorts at the title, shrugging you away as he unbuckles his belt and pushes the hanging body as he passes it. Jeff sits on the desk and pats his thighs.

"The fuck kind of name is that?" You cage him between your arms and lean in to lick the scratches near his eye.

"You don't like it?"

"I ain't no one's fucking executioner"

You roll your eyes and he clicks his tongue at it. "The fuck's that for?" You're still not sure what the fuck Jeff is, for all intents and purposes he's just something in limbo. Dead but not quite. Alive but not quite. But his ego is still that of a man and you're in your own purgatory as you decide if you enjoy it or not.

When Jeff realises he does care for you, it's a strange time for him. He won't ask if you've eaten or if you're hurt because suddenly he knows just from a glance. It's frightening to him. He doesn't call for you for a long time and he grits his teeth as you don't come for him either.

Stuck in-between again. He's relieved but he's angry. He's furious but sad. Are you alright? Do you hate him? Do you not care for him? How dare you!? But, also, great! He doesn't have time to be anything more! But how dare you? Do you not realise how much he cares about you!?

When Jeff finds out it's because some idiots in a cult managed to trap you?

He feels numb as he prepares to absolutely destroy them. With a one-track mind, he kicks open the doors of their stupid, dilapidated doors and lays waste on whoever isn't you. He burns their church down. His senses only rush back towards him when he has you in his arms.

That night, he's tender and sweet. It disturbs you a bit but you preen under his hands as he watches you heal your wounds in your own demonic ways.

"You came for me"

"...I'm your executioner, aren't I?"

Don't expect labels from Jeff but he does expect commitment to an extent. He won't be angry if you fuck around but he will fuck you harder if you mention that flesh bag being good.

He's bad at talking but once you manage to pry his mouth open he can be insightful about certain things. He's an observant man just so fucking egotistical.

You are his and he's yours but don't mention it too many times, he can get spooked. Did you expect stability from Jeff? Good, because you aren't getting it.

He wants you to participate in his kills. It's a great bonding activity! He is glad he has you as his buddy/lover. At least one person in this hell-forsaken world cares for him.

This does mean he can get a bit clingy at times, maybe even bordering on obsessed, but he doesn't give a shit. Even if you are a demon from hell, Jeff will find a way to find you.

Carved his name into you. No questions about it.

It will take years before he even says anything close to an "I love you" but he says in his own ways. He's tightlipped about you when his enemies catch up to him and if he feels that you're even a bit threatened he will fight tooth and nail until you're safe.

Jeff knows he's the last person that deserves a wish to be granted but he squeezes you tighter in his arms when he thinks of growing older. He's scared of dying, always has been, but the thought of leaving you alone/being without you? It terrifies him.

When his hair starts getting more salt and peppery he gets quite grumpy every time you mention it. He does soften when he notices you "ageing" as well - he knows you aren't and it's just your shapeshifting but he swears he'll do anything to stay by your side for as long as he can.

Laughing Jack —

Oh, he was familiar with your kind. Laughing Jack mainly targets families but he's been terrorizing the world since the 1800's, he knows the vices of men. He shoos them away (which is a nice way of saying he disembowels them if they get territorial over their prey).

What he didn't expect was to see you panting raggedly with your chin dripping with blood and pieces of what once was a man under your claws.

Laughing Jack's eyes shoot towards the child he had been "befriending". He knew he was suffering and Laughing Jack truly did not care — he wanted to have fun mutilating the entirety of his family and was only here because he wanted to visit his "friend".

The hair on the back of your neck pricks and your jaw unhinges as your eyes land on the lanky being.

You know of him too. This entity that was once brought to earth to help a lonely child turned into a demonic entity that relished in the pain of humans.

You're also aware he has an affinity to target children to bring back to his circus of horrors under the guise of "saving them" and even though you're a creature of hell, you stand in front of the cowering boy with your teeth on display.

"This is new", Laughing Jack giggles out. His claws curled in front of his mouth as he stalked forward. Oh, he knows why little Carl wanted to run away from home. His mother did a shit job at protecting him from his drunk stepfather and Jack was going to do just that.

He was going to let Carl run away. Never said Carl would be alive when he did. But Carl never asked.

"Usually you whores are busy with the adults, not the kids". The very implications of what he said have you snapping your teeth. He raises his hands in faux surrender with a mocking grin.

"Gone soft? Who were you here for?"

Your lips twitch and Jack pauses just as he's about to step out of the shadows. Carl's weeping and sniffling echoed in the room. Jack's plastered smile turns sour as seconds tick by.

You know better than to anger him. So you will yourself to speak: "His mother". Jack bounces back like nothing had happened and gleefully strides over into the light.

"J-Jack? Jack!" "Carl!" Your hand shoots out to grab at the boy but he rushes into Jack's claws and sobs freely into his chest as Jack shushes and cradles him. Jack gingerly plucks the stretched-out shirt back over Carl's shoulder and rubs his back.

"Then you can go!" Jack cheers as he cradles Carl. "Go, go! Go and get that bitch of a woman!" You march up to him and grow taller tower over him. Jack's neck cranes to meet your eyes and he swears his neck creaks. He's never had to look up at anyone before.

"The boy isn't yours!" Jack's claws envelope Carl's head as the boy covers his ears. "Protective? Your kind usually has a one-track mind, never known demons to have sympathy", Jack's eyes squish into crescent moons.

"Have you gone soft, demon?"

Carl isn't sure what happens next. He just knows that when he wakes up the next day, he isn't scared and his mom isn't there. Instead, there's you. He isn't scared of you, he trusts you and he knows that you're his older brother.

He goes to school with you by his side and when he comes back, you've made food for him. Carl doesn't know where all the money comes from or why there are foggy memories of horror when he stares into space but your voice always snaps him back to reality.

Carl doesn't know where you go off to at night but he knows he isn't scared because Laughing Jack always pops up in the house.

Carl doesn't know how lucky he is, not really, but as he grows old he does feel gratitude. He doesn't know nor care why you're not his brother on papers or that his mom isn't in the picture. He knows he loves you though.

And he likes Laughing Jack too. Even if he's scary sometimes.

"Honey! You're home!" You glare at Jack as you step into the kitchen, wiping blood from your chin as you shed your jacket and your human skin. Jack looks comically out of place. He waits for you to shed before he gathers you in his arms.

This arrangement was odd. Out of place. But you learned not to hate it. Maybe Laughing Jack was right, maybe you were getting soft but you were glad that Carl was safe. Even if you had to pretend to be his older brother and then deal with Laughing Jack at night.

He sways with you in the kitchen, humming an old tune and you groan as your shape settles. He grins as he runs his claws down your back then holds you firmly.

Jack wasn't interested in sex and you were okay with that. He just wants to hold you like this, an affection growing within him as he inhales your scent.

"Carl's at a sleepover, must be having fun", Jack twirls you and you allow it with a ghost of a smile. "If he was at my circus, the streamers would be intestines and the snacks! Oh, the snacks, (Y/N) Darling!" Your lips cover his and his brow raises as he returns the kiss.

"Carl's fine with regular streamers, Jack. He's human, let him remain as one", Jack's smile almost seems sincere as he looks up at you. "Speaking of humans, (Y/N) Dearest", Jack thwacks a roll of newspaper on your chest.

"Humans are getting scared of you, rabid incubus, and Carl's mysterious older brother isn't holding up! You need to scram", You sigh deeply as you pull away. Jack chases to cling to your back.

"He'll miss his friends"

"I'll bring them to my circus! He'll always see them whenever he wants!"

"You're not saying no", Jack purrs and cackles after you close your eyes and nod. He didn't really need permission but you appreciate him asking either way. Besides, he had a point! Carl could play with them whenever he wishes to so he won't be too sad.

Your relationship with Laughing Jack might be the most curious one out of everyone else. Carl made you more human than you'd like to admit and you made Laughing Jack more colourful (on the inside) than he'd ever tell.

He doesn't love Carl. Cares for, sure. He doesn't love you. But he wants your affections, that much he knows.

He brings you gifts, some of your real food, toys and all sorts. Even some for Carl because he knows you like it when he does it. Jack becomes a sort of family guardian. Anyone who tries to harm Carl doesn't just have you to worry about, Laughing Jack's looming over your shoulder too.

You share kisses, hugs and hand holdings if he's being annoying about it but both of you know Laughing Jack prefers not to go below the belt. He prefers that you seek physical pleasure elsewhere. He claps with glee every time you toss him the body, turning the corpse into a new throne or cake or whatever he wishes.

When Carl grows old and moves out, he knows that the porch light will always be on for him. He knows his "older brother" isn't human but he doesn't care. He also knows Laughing Jack isn't just his imagination but he doesn't care. Carl knows you're family and that's all that matters.

You tend to the house at times but after Carl moves out, Jack all but whisks you away into his circus. The spirits of dead children crowd around you, sharing an affection towards you due to Laughing Jack's own emotions. You tolerate them enough but spend most of your time with your Jack.

Laughing Jack doesn't know if he'd die for you, he doesn't even know if he's able to die really, but he would slaughter millions if it meant that you'd be content.

"Do you love me, (Y/N) Darling?" Laughing Jack tickles your side, giggling as you swat his hands away. You turn to face him and he relaxes in your hold, minutely but you still feel the way his muscles unbind.

"Do you love me, Jack Dearest?" His eyes soften and you swear you see the way baby blue bleeds into the monotone grey.

"I do, I love you more than I'd like to admit".

Slenderman —

Your head tilted at the shape in the trees. The person beneath you twitched and rattled out a groan as they clung to the little bits of life they still had. A quick snatch and grab of more of their brains puts an end to it rather quickly.

Swivelling your head you gaze at the drawings on their walls. Among the illustrations of the forest views that they drew and the maps, you note the odd scribbles.

This prey had odd dreams at times. Some nights, you find yourself fighting against a force just to invade their thoughts but you think of it as nothing but their own will. Some humans had quite a resistance to your kind.

You squint at the marker drawings, getting up from the bed to walk closer. Plucking the note that peeked from under the map only to gasp as the map fell onto your feet. It revealed more deranged scribblings and your stomach twisted into knots as you realised what entity your prey had been hunted by.

Your breath shudders and you take a step back only to stiffen as a cold wind whispers up your spine.

"Forgive me!" You kneel, bowing your head as you stare at the wooden floors in fear. This being - it was the very thing that crawled out of Hell. It was older than most if not everything that roamed this earth and you had taken its prey.

The crackling of trees makes tears brim your eyes. It sounds thunderous and it only grows louder. You force your eyes shut as the branches drag along the glass windows and you plead under your breath as you feel Him getting closer and closer.

When he speaks, your brain feels as though it's being pulled apart. Was this punishment from your past victims? You're struggling to understand what he says but his voice soothes into something tangible.

"Wha...What?" You lift your head and turn to face the empty, open, window.

"Come".

Slenderman was intimidating even for an incubus like yourself. As he towers over you, you feel your prey climb up out of your throat. But then, then, his spindly fingers stroke the side of your face.

"Please me, incubus", his tendrils sway in the wind and they lower and slither through the dead leaves to curl around your ankles and thighs.

His "suit" pulses and throbs, particularly between his legs and you see the slit glistening with wetness, white cockheads poking out.

Oh.

Well. Who were you to say no?

Slenderman doesn't speak in a language familiar to humans, it brings some semblance of comfort to you; his words and expressions are more archaic but it's undoubtedly the language of hellish creatures like yourselves.

His cocks are just as inhuman and long as everything else about him and those tendrils that sprout from his back? Oh, they make the best restraints. The barely there scales on them shudder every time he's close to an orgasm and since they're so close to you, the rattling of it makes you whimper in pleasure.

Slenderman allows you to go but he keeps his eyes on you.

The way you kill and tear into humans, the pleasure you take in it - you're nothing but an incubus but Slenderman wants you.

And like his other "toys" he is merciless in making you just his.

You're not allowed to hunt anyone other than the ones he tells you to. Not allowed to even think of craving anyone. You're his incubus and his alone.

Who are you to say no?

It wasn't all that bad. Sometimes, he would push the limits of your hunger if he wanted to "test" the prey but you were obedient to his whims.

Sometimes, he'd crawl into your mind to truly see if you were all his and though painful and vomit-inducing the rewards after were enough to make it worth it.

After all, compared to the rest of his toys, you were the most pampered.

"Master", a purring noise is all around you but with your sight taken from you (a feat that only a few beings could do). The only thing you can do to locate Slenderman is through touch. But the thing is, he's touching you every-fucking-where.

You were suspended in the air, legs spread with tendrils and arms bound to your back as your cloudy eyes stared aimlessly at the night sky.

"Patience, incubus"

Love is hard to pinpoint in this relationship. It's more of an endearment. His feelings for you were the same feeling as someone would feel towards a dog. If you disobeyed and bit him, he'd put you down no question - that much you knew.

He doesn't mind when you kill other incubus or succubi though. Not that he seeks them with the same intent he had with you, he is a bit addicted to you, he seeks them with the intent to make you jealous.

He knows you had feelings for him. Depends on him. His word was law.

He likes seeing his dog get jealous. He doesn't assist in your fights with the other demon, you have to be the strongest to be his and so he merely watches and rewards you once you win.

The one time you lost though? Oh, he was so disappointed, (Y/N). The incubus stood over you, clutching the stump of an arm as he hisses at you. You know he is about to rip your throat and you kick your legs as he kneels over you.

He grabs your chin and forces your head to be tilted up, exposing your neck. You were going to die, you were going to die!

"You're pathetic, pet", the incubus over you chokes, blood spurting out from the hole in his chest before he all but crumbles into dust. One of your eyes is swollen shut, bruised and bleeding all over and Slenderman cradles you in his arms as he helps you stand.

"I'm sorry, Master" Your tears are wiped away. His tendrils lift you into the air and close to his chest as you weep.

"You'd be dead without me, pet. Completely useless".

Toby Erin Rogers —

"...Get out of the fucking way" Toby had the coldest eyes you've ever seen. He had been tasked to kill the man whose skull was being split open by your hands.

He must think Toby was here to save him because he swipes a hand towards him, groaning desperately as his eyes shake. Toby's nose scrunches up in distaste. The man looked like a goddamn pug. His eyes bulged out and gaping his mouth like a dead fish.

"He's my kill". You furrow your brows as you stubbornly dig your thumbs deeper into the crack of his skull.

"Oops".

Toby throws a hatchet and it slices through your shoulder, pinning you to the wall from the strength he used. You claw at the handle, kicking your feet to try and push yourself from the wall but Toby simply ignores you to slash the man's throat with with his other hatchet.

"You asshole! He's mine!" Your thrashing makes him grunt as he slams his hand on your other shoulder. He grabs the hilt of his weapon and squints his eyes at you.

"S-Shut the fuck up, cunt. You can still eat the bitch, shithead", Toby isn't nice about tugging his weapon out. His brows furrowed at the sight of your torn flesh.

Toby has seen it all. After meeting a monochrome clown and a burned woman with a mask hunting for a guy named Jeff, among other creatures, Toby is unphased at the sight of a demon.

This means the already cold, unfeeling, man was not at all impressed. His eyes wander to your chest and your legs but scoffs as he cleans the edge of his hatchet on his sleeves.

"You asshole!" Toby waves his hand nonchalantly as he retreats. His plan is foiled as you latch onto his back, teeth sinking through his clothes and into the protective pads. Reaching back, his gloved hands grasp onto you to throw you across the room. The desk lamp shatters onto the floor as you lay out on the surface.

Toby rolls both his shoulders, sniffing in annoyance as he picks at the deep marks on the plastic of his protective wear. "Shit, your teeth suh-suh-sunk...through" his eyes glower as you peel yourself from the office table.

"Now, you're just ask, asking for it".

After that rough night, you stayed away from ever-crossing paths with Slenderman and his stupid proxies. Even with your supernatural regenerative healing, he slashed so deep at one point you're certain he had his hatchets go through you.

Your body ached for days. Not in a sexy way.

Toby, however, found it hard to get you out of his head. He knows an incubus' pheromones linger when they experience intense emotions and subsequently, so do its effects. But after 2 months of aching for you, he has had enough.

He takes a while to track you down. He's only human at the end of the day but when he finds your prey he reenacts the first time you met.

"You," venom was dripping from your words as you hissed at him but Toby simply raised from the armchair in the corner. The office of the poor psychotherapist you hunted reminded him of his childhood so he gladly focuses on your figure to focus.

He pays close attention to the way you get into the defensive, climbing the desk to put distance as you show him your fangs.

"I've got a pro, proposition for you" Toby walks towards the closet and to your surprise, your prey is tied up like a goddamn turkey. He falls flat on his face, breaking his nose, and squirms as muffled pleas come from him.

"You don't have to waste days making your prey succumb to you. I'll wrap them up...luh-like a fuuucking present and...you can munch on 'em"

"...In exchange?" You can't tell if he's smiling. But you hear it in his voice as he says:

"Fuck me".

For Toby, you provide relief and comfort. The beginning of the relationship was tough waters to navigate through, mainly for you. Despite providing you with food when he craves some physical intimacy, Toby is one scary motherfucker to be bare of clothes with.

It's a feat considering who was the demon in the relationship here.

Toby keeps his mouthguard on. For a whole 2 years, he never once took it off. By the time he does though? His eyes are closed and he's muttering for something to leave him alone. His anxiety crept up on him as he stared at the popcorn ceiling of the motel he had chosen for that night.

"Toby" his hand trembles and not because you're deep inside of him. His scarred chest falls and raises in rapid motions and you're aware that he needs to breathe. So, despite his heart-clenching whimpers you tear his hands away from his face to pull his mouthguard off.

"No!" Toby tries to cover the scar on his cheek. You shush him and pull out, carefully arranging your limbs so he can wrap his arms around you.

That night ended sourly. He shoves you away and dresses in a rush.

When he reaches out for you again, you don't pry. You've grown soft for the man but know he isn't exactly the touchy-feely type. Toby wonders if you're thinking of his face as he plows into you and his thoughts are so loud he has the audacity to grow flaccid.

As an incubus? That was a first for you.

"...Ugly mug, huh?" You eye him as you suckle on his cockhead. Now? He was going to talk about that night, now? Okay. Sure.

"No, I like your face" Toby grunts, clearly not believing you. "Just sayin' that 'cuz my dicks in your face". Well, at least he is aware of the timing too.

He exclaims as you push him down on the bed and straddle him.

"I like your stupid face, Toby. I like your stupid fucking voice, your body, your sarcasm and your shitty personality. Is that so hard to believe?"

This relationship turns warmer after this night. He throws extra snacks your way and he appreciates it when you help him with stitching himself up from his "assignments".

When his paranoia and anxiety get the best of him, he finds it...nice...that he doesn't have to ice out his emotions anymore. He feels so human.

Toby is aware you're fully capable of handling your own affairs and so, he doesn't interfere. He's terrified of the Slenderman and even growing slightly curious about you too. It's a tough balance for Toby - it's not like Slenderman cares about work-life-balance.

So, don't expect to spend cosy days spent together somewhere sweet. Your version of date nights will be following him along on his missions or him watching you hunt and then spending hours together in the victim's home.

It brings Toby comfort. You're not human but the way you move through the house with him, it reminds him of simpler times; a past he no longer remembers but knows he cherishes. He thinks about the two of them being a domestic couple a lot.

"Remembering?" Toby says nothing as he kisses the nape of your neck. The two of you had washed up in the shower and the victims were neatly displayed in the living room with symbols all over the room. You two had all night to just...be.

"Never got muh-my memories back then, not...gonna get 'em now" He pulls away to grab the bottle of wine from you. When he settles on the office couch, you drop onto his lap with a plate of sandwiches.

He groans as you teasingly try to feed him but soon relents. He feels a bit ashamed as he struggles to eat "normally" with the open gash on his cheek but as he peeks at your expression he sees nothing but love.

So, Toby squeezes you closer and you say nothing as he allows you to care for him.

[ovaryacted]

Haii :33 idk if you're taking anons but I couldn't let go of this thought w/o sharing !!!

ok so we all know and love emo!Leon but BUT hear me out. Playing with his nipple piercings (or maybe dick piercing 😛😛) YOU FEEL??? Like !!!! Phew. I love emo!Leon so much js like IENEIDB.

AND ITS THE ONLY WAY HE'LL CUM???? Anyways. :P

-🧩 (Hope that emoji isn't taken yet:3)

MDNI/18+. NSFW.

Heyy! I am taking anons lmao I need to add a section on my page with a list of the emojis that are taken so I don't lose track but you are more than welcome to take that puzzle emoji! Welcome to the club!

And yes omg, emo!Leon has completely rotted my brain and he's so fucking pretty (I love @/larvamars on here and their art for emo!Leon so much). Imagine playing with his nipples with that heightened sensitivity he already feels because they're pierced, oh that would be so fun.

Sitting on his lap you kissed him slowly, feeling the metallic circle of his tongue bar flicking against the roof of your mouth. You can't help but moan at the added sensation, his snake bite rings pressing against your lips every time his lips meshed with yours. You move your hand down his chest, thumb rubbing against his hard nipple and stroking the silver bar pierced through it.

Leon shudders underneath you, exhaling a shaky breath as you stroke his sensitive nipple in intricate circles. Your thumb pressed harder against his chest, an audible whimper slipping out of his lips as you kissed down his neck. He loves this part, letting you do whatever you want with his body, becoming your canvas to explore.

Throwing his head back, he laid down on the couch, feeling you suck at one nipple, lolling your tongue around the nub until he shook. You could feel the titanium bars in your mouth, pinching his other nipple and making him groan. At this rate, it won't take much to reach his limit, his mind going blank as you leave a teasing nip against his warm skin.

Curious hands go towards his pulsing cock, running a gentle finger over the underside of his twitching length. You lightly grazed one metal bar, then a second, and finally a third, Leon's thigh twitching the more you touched him. You continued to run your fingers up and down his body, holding him upward and pressing your thumb harder into his pierced skin. His fingers came to wrap around your wrist, thrusting his hips towards your touch and craving more.

"You want to cum baby? Is that it?", you asked him teasingly, watching as he nodded dumbly and bit his bottom lip.

"Yeah. fuck, please...I need it", hazy blue eyes glanced at your face once more, and you gripped him harder, giving him a squeeze before you started to jerk him off.

He moaned out at the harsh touch, your movements sending him reeling into his climax. You kissed him as he spilled over your hand and stomach, making a mess and hissing against your mouth at the sensitivity of his body afterward. Pulling away, you gave him a kiss on his cheek, reveling in the soft smile he gave you from relief.

"Wanna go again?", you suggested, grinning when he nodded at you enthusiastically.

"Good boy", your hand instantly went back to touch his cock, going down on your knees to give him what he wanted.

[bloopitynoot]

Reading SVSSS: Chapter 4

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

aaaaaaand i'm back for another chapter! Again at my desk with my reading buddy (Charlie) tea for this chapter is a soy matcha latte.

So, I thought the conference was a few days from when Shen Qingqiu/Shen Yuan was in the cave, but im assuming it's annual? Since he was in the caves for a year? p191

Ah JK. the top of the next page - the conference is every 4 years 192

I'm actually so stoked for this demon blood reveal. I want to know how its spun in this "version" of the story p 193

I love how confused shen yuan is, he's still over here thinking he's the villain when he has so clearly been upgraded to Love Interest/Damsel in Distress. IDK what to tell you pp193-194

Okay so now luo binghe is 17. Question though- do we ever actually get an age for Shen Qingqiu? p195

This kid is still here simping. Actually at this point I dont even know who is the simp. Luo Binghe is openly heart eyes and Qin Qingqiu isn't even aware of his own feelings but the way he describes future luo binghe is too much LOL. It is a trainwreck to read. p195

Binghe: *all flirt* Shen Qingqiu: shit. fuck. ah. I need to not fuck this plot point p196

LOL at Shen Qingqiu taking the carriage "I'm frail and indisposed" x3 twink energy p200

not the snacks too LOL p200

oh no! Luo Binghe thinking that Shen Qingqiu has any feelings at all for Liu Mingyan p201

But also then trying to make Shen Qingqiu jealous. Oh boy.

Let's take a second to appreciate how clear and concise the point system is for the conference. like this was well thought out- I love it. It's also giving a bit of hunger games spectator energy p205

This guy (Shen Yuan) already knows the outcome, and yet he's going to gamble (AND GAMBLE BIG) anyways p 208

I cannot with this group following Luo Binghe "my feet hurt :(" p215

why the foot fetish material 💀 217

RIP to the OG timeline's harem- the have been felled to the Demon Realm's Nu Yuan Chen p218

omg this is a massacre p220

awww at liu qingge not letting Shen Qingqiu join the fray. I feel like these two probably have a shit ton of fics pairing them p223

THE HEAD SPIDER WHAT pp226-227

Shen Qingqiu's entrance though!!!!!!!! p227

Shen Qingqiu is even getting the flower poison plot (points for my love interest/damsel in distress plotline) "Stop. Do not pass go. The girl you're supposed to pick the flower for, Qin Wanyue, is right next to us, watching- and you want to deflower it in her presence, and for a big, strong man to boot? Leave your wife some dignity, all right?!" p231

oooo now we get details on who the spy is. Enter Shang Qinghua p233

Shang Qinghhua deserves an Oscar for this performance 236

And more damsel shen qingqiu 242

the miscommunications! oh gosh why is this scene so painful. They're talking about two different things. pp247-248

Oh no. Shen Qingqiu/Shen Yuan is not okay :( p257

oh no oh no oh no -> heartbreak points?!?!?!? this is so sad p259

OMG WAIT WHAT AN END TO THIS CHAPTER. THE AUTHOR IS HERE TOO???????????? WHAT THE HECK!!!

RE: Who the spy is- A SPY WITHIN A SPY?

Thats all for today!

The twist really twisted me at the end there. AH. I can't wait to read more. Will they work together? will they be mortal enemies??? Will this be the author attempting to usurp Shen Yuan????? I DONT KNOW????

[greenunoreversecard]

OMG HI?! I HAD NO CLUE YOU TOOK REQUESTS AND WROTE FICS?? IM HERE FOR A REQUEST GREENY !!

anyway, my request is for husk x optimist!reader, like the reader is this person who tries to see the light in all the crappy situations hell throws at them and eventually just can’t take it anymore and goes down to husk’s bar and gets a drink (which is a rare occurrence for reader) and then just starts rambling on about how life is just awful for them and that it’s just so hard for them to push through and act like everything’s just fine and dandy? and husk helps em thru it and carries em to bed? :)

gn! or fem! reader is fine for this, whatever you want!! feel free to take some creative liberties with this haha i trust you!!

i can’t wait to see it!!

— mio 💕

jsjdowid I do!!! I also try and request on others pages to help spread the love :p

The Healers Broken Heart

->Husk x Gn! Reader

Youve always been know to rival Charlie's pep and optimism.

But it seems today just wasn't in your favor, was it?

Maybe it was sleeping through your alarm. Maybe it was seeing someone you'd rather leave in the past. Maybe it was the date itself. The reasoning isn't to important as you make your way through the doors of the hotel and beeline for the bar.

"Instead of a drink can you just hand me the fullest bottle of pink Whitney you have?"

Husk raises his eyebrow at you, before letting out a low whistle.

"Damn. Shit day?"

"Something like that."

"Well, angel drank the last of theWhitney, but i got everclear, and a couple flavored vodkas and some whiskeys, if any of those suit your fancy?" His voice low and gruff as he quietly lists the available alcohols.

"Fuck it, gimme the everclear"

He whistles lightly again, turning from the glass he was cleaning to the display behind him, grabbing the unopened bottle of everlcear and setting it in front of you.

He watches as you screw of the cap, and throw it back, chugging a good amount of the alcohol, unflinching.

"I was gunna ask if you want a chaser with that, but by the looks of it you don't." He pauses a moment, eyebrows still raised in shock as he watched you drink like a alchoholic of 30 years, before remembering himself and going back to the blank slate he normally keeps his face at.

"Wanna talk about it?" He treds carefully. But this question seems to hit the dam holding back the floodgates of emotions, and tears lightly prick you eyes so you take another large swig.

"Life fucking sucks, everything fucking sucks and I don't want to deal with it anymore." You go to take a third large swig, before his hands stop you.

"Maybe wait. Everclears stronger than a muthafucka, so give it a minute to set in, and then decide if you need more." He says, prying the bottle from your iron grip. "And when your ready, elaborate."

And so, after a moment, when you feel it start to set in, you do. You tell him all of your woes. Tears start streaming, at some point.

And at some point, Husk crossed the island between you two, and brought you head to his chest, gently stroking your hair and listening. Listening and caring. That's not something your particularly used to, So to speak.

And at some point, in your now drunken stupor. He dries your tears, assurance pouring from his lips like a waterfall, as he carries you up the stairs, and towards your room, setting you gently on the bed and helping you when you ask to change from jeans to sweat, always remaining ever the gentleman. He sets advil and a glass of water on your nightstand, before standing in front of where you lay, bleary eyed and lightly kisses your forehead.

And as you fall asleep, you realise. That maybe, just maybe, its ok to not be ok.

And maybe it's OK to cross some professional lines with the bartender.

Because in the end, you won't want have anyone but husk listen to you and care for you, and Carry you home.

Even the healers need to be healed.

----

A/N ending note: Hope this was OK, and hoped you liked it!! Thank you for requesting, i really liked it and enjoyed writting it<333 sorry if its short fiejfjks

[danyvhell-writes]

vere hcs? preferably for a sub reader but it's fine either way!! thx a lot :P

General Vere headcanons (Touchstarved)

GN reader - no warnings | Thanks for the ask <333 Took me more time than I planned but here it is ! (Sorry for the wait lil anon, I was quite busy this month :') Writing about him was so fun, he's just so malicious and silly ?? Hope you'll like it hehe >:)

• Anything becomes a reason to tease you ! A little smile you gave him ? A blush ? Stammering even just a bit ? He will tease you to death if he can.

• He sees everything. Think you can hide something from him ? Ah, how naive of you. If something bothers you he will know, don't try to put on a mask. "Oh someone seems upset hm..." "No I'm not !" "I just said someone, why do you think you were targeted MC ? Care to explain yourself ?" he says with his devious little smile. You don't even need to speak, he reads you like an open book :').

• Not one to talk about his feelings openly but definitely makes you know when he appreciates your company ! It might be by taking you to private operas, going to fancy teahouse, gifting you little paintings he did, inviting you for shopping and more...

• Want to know how he truly feels ? Pay attention to his ears. They tell a lot more than he does, depending on how they twitch, their angle and much more... reading him becomes way easier.

• Would 100% write you letters. Casual letters where he just writes about his life, spicy letters where he describes in various ways how he would devour you... Whenever he needs to express something, he writes to you and doesn't even expect an answer ! You'll open your enveloppe and see "I can't believe Vanessa, this absolute rotten bitch, stole my silver ring ! Can you believe it MC ? I should rip her finger off with the ring and keep it so she remembers her wrong..."

• If he can get any reaction from you, it's a win. Loves to see how you'll respond to his flirty proposition, especially if you get flustered 👀

• You know this type of people who hit furnitures/stuff when they laugh ? Well Vere does it but with his tail, tell a funny joke and you can be sure you'll get hit (gently...or not) with it !

• Would be thrilled to analyze your sketchbook if you're an artist. Trying to hide it from him ? Not an option, you will show him everything ! I just know he'll sneak it to look through every pages, taking notes of striking elements and how your artstyle translates with different techniques.

→ Drawing sessions with him omg ! At first he'd joke about needing a live model and why not try nude modeling but at the end you guys end up super concentrated in your respective art piece. Definitely wouldn't mind becoming your muse tho...

↑ Adding into this but, he'd leave little notes and cute doodles when you're not looking. You just open your sketchbook and see next to your recent stuff "The lines are timid I know you can do better ;)"or "I was there..." or even "Draw me next time ! I'll be the best piece."

• The both of you together can easily become absolute menace to society. The cheer chaos you can cause is too much for this city ! If Kuras ever finds out about your malicious plans, he'll be disappointed.

• Will let you brush his hair and tail if you're good enough. "Mess with my hair and you know what awaits you !" Please convince him to try new hairstyles, make him even prettier than he already is >:)

• As much as he is an expensive fox, he'll enjoy homemade gifts. He won't show it too much but he keeps everything you've made for him at his place. Bonus point if it's decorative pieces ! (The thought of you taking time to put effort into something for him makes him smile more than he can admit).

• This man likes to cook so don't hesitate giving him recipes you like. Not sure he'll succeed preparing them but the effort is always well put ! If you're good in a kitchen, he'll find an excuse to cook/bake with you.

• Enjoys showing you around the city, especially secret places. He doesn't just share his secret spots with anyone so you can feel privileged !

→ Talking about spots he likes, he will take you to his favourite restaurants. You'd expect fancy, luxurious place but no ! Most of them are little family business owned by the same people since decades. The food is straight up heavenly and you let him know. "I've been around this city long enough to know the best places ! You shouldn't be surprised."

• Grows really protective of you. Of course he knows you can defend yourself, but if anyone dares to hurt you, they'll have to face lethal consequences. Anyone threatening you "Do you want me to break their kneecaps ? I can also hit their sciatic nerve if you wish ! Or maybe-" "Vere no."

• If you enjoy some good gossip, you're gonna be fed just right with this guy ! We know he knows everything, he's the ears of the city. Juicy drama to shocking revelation, he's got every type of story in stock ! All you gotta do is ask and the conversation will last for hours.

• If you're in his presence, forget about personal space. Your space is his now ! His body will always be in contact with yours, even if it's not noticeable at first.

• Makeover ? Yes. You will be his personal doll. If he has to test outfits, color combinations or other stuff you'll be his subject ! He'll try a lot of different clothes on you until you look like the hottest person alive (after him). Dressing you up is one of his favourite activities and of course you guys would wear matching outfits. You two are just ✨fashion✨.

• Don't know why but I feel like he would love playing board/card games, especially if they involve money ! Think you can win against him ? Nope no chance, bluffing is too easy for him and he's an absolute beast (pun intended). Just picture him playing 'loup-garou' (The werewolves of miller's hollow in english I think ? My french ass can't remember), I know he'd kill it !

• Has a very distinctive laugh. You could hear him from miles away and recognize him instantly ! Also it's kinda infectious, if he starts bursting out laughing, you'll easily follow into it.

• This man growls. Like literally. It doesn't happen a lot but whenever he does it always surprises you.

• This is him :

[eternally-tired-muffin]

First off, I absolutely love the Hashira surplus AU. I see lots of somebody lived/everyone survived AUs since I have an Ao3 addiction, but none really go in the direction you’ve chosen. I think the idea of twin pillars is nice to think about, but unless they work best together and are messes without their other half it wouldn’t really make sense to just count them as one if they’re perfectly fine independently. Kind of like how Daki and Gyuutaro work in canon, I suppose. So if Sabito lived, he would undoubtedly become the Water Hashira first and end up leaving Giyuu at Kinoe despite him eventually catching up in strength and qualifications. Same with Shinobu, if Kanae survived then she wouldn’t have room to become a Hashira with the 9 max rule. All in all, I really like what you’ve done with it and how you’ve built off canon. I don’t have any direct questions, but definitely wouldn’t mind to read about anything you haven’t got a chance to share or small details you havent been able to fit anywhere! Have a good day/night and sorry for rambling lol-

AHHHHH THIS IS THE SWEETEST THING OMG T^T

I'm glad that you think this take on everyone lives makes sense! I tried to change 1 thing at the start and have the ripple effect come across naturally.

In terms of things to share, thank you so much for asking! This au is my baby so I'm thrilled to yap haha. I have a lot of projects I'm passionate about, so the actual drawings will come out very slowly, though I will answer asks and plot questions as they come. I'm currently working on the comic where Kanae meets Nezuko, so have a sneaky WIP page :P

The recent arc has also got me thinking about how the infinity castle arc changes.

MANGA SPOILERS FROM HERE!

I've decided to commit to saving everyone, as the core principle of this au, so the upper moon fights are going to go down differently. At the moment, I haven't fully decided, but my initial idea is this:

Instead of Giyuu, Sabito joins Tanjiro in fighting UM3. In canon, Giyuu acts as a parallel to Rengoku, with themes about weakness/strength and duty (who 'should' live). In this AU, Giyuu doesn't have the same survivor's guilt, and Rengoku doesn't die. As a result, it isn't thematically important for Giyuu to go up against Akaza. However, Sabito was present in the mugen train arc, and he narrowly survived the encounter. I think it makes sense for him to go up against Akaza with Tanjiro (who was stuck as a witness last time) and get to see how they've both grown - Tanjiro getting stronger and Sabito getting smarter. Maybe he learns Giyuu's defensive form?

Since Giyuu is free, I think he'd join in the UM1 fight. Having a defensive fighter could influence the battle. I have to be honest, I haven't reread this arc in a minute (so it is fresh when I watch the movie) so I can't quite remember how the fight goes down, but I think Giyuu would be there from the start. They just manage to keep themselves together as more allies join and overwhelm UM1.

I haven't used Rengoku here - I haven't decided his status after the mugen train arc. He lives, but I don't know if he is fit for battle. He may join Uzui and his father in protecting Nezuko. Perhaps he rallies the kakushi and the medical team with his large presence and still well above average physical abilities.

UM2 is a bit more complicated. Shinobu's drive for revenge is a key part of her character, but in this AU, Kanae survives. This is another thing not set in stone and may change. At the moment, I think in this AU, Douma has a habit of eating his victims alive. He taunted Kanae, managing to bite off her ear, so while Kanae manages to survive, she is truly affected by this fight. Shinobu despises him like in canon. In terms of the UM2 infinity castle fight, I'm not sure how to administer Shinobu's poison. It could be that Douma eats an arm or leg, but Kanae arrives in time to help. I'm also currently thinking that Aoi* might join Kanao.

*I haven't committed to her role yet (in addition to knowing basic medicine). She could be a poisons using demon slayer (like Shinobu) or someone who blended the role of demon slayer and kakushi - this is worth its own post though.

All of the speculation around the inifnity castle is just a draft, though! I would absolutely love to hear any suggestions/ ideas, so please feel free to reply/ reblog/ send an ask :D

AU masterpost

[cielles-random-vault]

OMG! I love that you included the age regression part in the Hobie and neurodivergent reader thing! It's really cool to see people write for it especially with Hobie! It would be really cool if you could write more for it! No pressure tho! (Your writing is really really cool! /srs)

OMG TYSM ILY I- <3 <3 <3 /p

ofc!! if you want i can try writing it for all characters ? but im scared it'd be repetitive 🥲

BUT OMG I'M SO HAPPY PPL LIKE MY WRITING AAAAAA /pos

so here have a lil fic :3 tysm once again ily this made my day /g /p

sharing a non verbal moment in little space with hobie !

author's note: omg anon you made me so happy you fr got me giggling and kicking my feet in the air /pos

author's note 2: age regression is a coping mechanism often used by trauma/abuse victims in which one puts themself at the age they were when the trauma occurred - find more about it here!

synopsis/content: just a whole bunch of fluff for my new favorite anon <33 reader is a non verbal age regressor and gender neutral 🦅 this won't be proofread 🕺🏻also hobie is the reader's boyfriend <3 aaaand small mention of trauma

you heard some gentle knocking on the door of your room.

"doll? can i come in?" hobie asked, waiting for your response.

seeing you didn't say anything, he gently invited himself in.

as he noticed you playing with your stuffed animals on the floor, he instantly knew you were age regressing.

though you never talked to him about your trauma, he knew what were the signs of you being in your little space, so he tried his best to support you as he knew it was a trauma induced coping mechanism.

"i'm sorry i arrived late at the tea party" he says, joining you on the floor.

you chuckle at the sight of your boyfriend - the punk, careless boy - taking parts in such activities.

you took a small piece of paper and a colorful, shiny pencil next to you and started to write something.

"me.. can't talk.. me is nonverbal.." read hobie. "no problem!" he says with a frank smile. "you don't have to talk if you don't want to, there's really no pressure. do you want to watch some cartoons while i prepare you your favorite food? we can cuddle and fill in some coulouring books if you'd like to?"

you nod and flap your hands in excitement.

a few moments later, your boyfriend got in the living room with two plates of dino nuggets and a glass of vanilla milk and sat next to you.

while the two of you were eating, you excitedly pointed to the tv.

"bluey? is this who you are trying to show me?" he asked.

you nod as excitedly as you pointed out your favorite character again.

"you're right, star." hobie nods. "bluey is also my favorite character. you know why? because she reminds me a lot of you - being so cute and when she's all excited."

you and your boyfriend kept on watching bluey and filling out coloring books for so much time you started to get tired.

"say, isn't my little star getting tired?" he asked as he noticed you started yawning.

you tried to shake your head as a way to say no, but soon after that you started falling asleep on your colorings.

"come on, little one, i think it's time we go to sleep" hobie said softly. "don't worry, tomorrow we will have plenty of time to finish those coloring pages."

you headed to the bathroom, holding hands while he helped you brush your teeth and fix your hair.

he then helped you getting in bed, making sure that you didn't leave out any plushies on the floor (that made you sad) and joined you for some pre-sleep cuddles.

"have a good night star" he says as he softly kisses your cheek. "i love you."

THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE ILY FOR THAT ANON <333 I HOPE YOU'LL ENJOY <333

[bahja-blix]

😐💀 A Dumbass Appeared (Ask Edition) A post regarding Viv Stans (Part 2)

Before we begin I want to say that I will absolutely not be censoring the person in this for valid reasons. I'll however censor the people who are just regular visitors.

What brilliance unfolds in my ask box? They put themselves out there on purpose "because reason"... I guess?

Reminder This is the Internet, you put yourself out there, your out there forever and if you do something stupid or say something stupid, your idiocy might go viral enough where you get called out so don't expect people to cover you up when YOU did this To Yourself

When I changed my bio to say "Bored ASF, Ask a Goth" I didn't mean be a god damn loser and make up shit on purpose for Bait reasons.

Yes this is real and Yes these were sent by a Viv Stan and it's OBVIOUSLY Bait but I still wanted to review it just for fun because I was literally laughing my ass off and I ain't even high!! 🤣 that And the actual person was Serious about deleting their profile along with taking the time to remove one by one every like and post from their profile which is hilarious. I didn't even make a post at the time and they disappear Anyway 😂. So I had absolutely no option to respond regardless. Lol you didn't think I'd see that but I did LMAO. You took the time to send me this but couldn't take a couple seconds to block me right after so I don't see your profile disappear but I guess you're just that stupid. What stopped you from just deleting your account without going through lengths to type this shit up?

We start with Kona, a boot lickin Viv stan living in denial over the fact that their obviously a Viv Stan. I said I wasn't going to answer this but this is HORRIBLE 😂 How could I Not share!

I love how you literally sat here and took the time to go ""Anonymous"" on the first ask you sent me showing your name and profile only to turn around and send me Another ask and Then another begging to me down on your knees basically telling me to forget I saw your ass 🤣🤣🤣

Omfgfgfggg🤣🤣🤣

I absolutely applaud how you "went out of your way to ALL these critics" like your some kinda Big Dawg white knighting for Viv telling us to "Listen up" because God Damnit "This town ain't Big Enough for the two of us" only to completely disappear off the face of the earth because you knew I saw your ass and you got scared.

I'm assuming you saw my last post where I said "Stick it" when referring to someone else that didn't agree with the helluva boss and hazbin hotel critical community...so you took it to heart and used it in the ask!? Did my post offend you 🥺🥺🥺? Omg I'm terribly sorry that I'm not a boot licking Viv Stan... I truly am (⁠◡⁠ ⁠ω⁠ ⁠◡⁠)

So... you attack Showtoonz for no reason other than *Double Checks Notes* ahh here we go "Having valid opinions" fresh off the table *chef kiss excuse* lol

LMAO they really said "Ass takes" omg no wayyy 😂

I also applaud how you basically said that the entirety of the helluva boss and hazbin hotel critical community an "embarrassment to our democracy" lol where that come from? and that the best argument you can come up with is that "*ughhh* your all "cOnSeRvAtIvEs" like did you travel across time and space through the Internet, see my page, and pretend to get triggered over the fact that I'm p***tically balanced in every direction?? Open minded if you will!? What does critiquing a show have to do with what's going on outside in the world? You do realize a lot of these people critiquing Viv Are in fact Democrats (me included in that spectrum) that Were fans of Viv and don't agree with Viv because she messes shit up on purpose 😂

Love how your one of those people that's obviously too far on the edge who are an actual embarrassment to society because this is the shit you put out there along with the

"YoUr NoT oNe Of Us" argument because what else would you pull out of your ass like legit your literally the type of person that likes to sniff your own fucking farts... Geez

I can't stop laughing 🤣

"One of Us! One of Us! Gooble gobble, Gooble gobble, One of Us! One of Us!" Like I can't. We Dems ain't gonna bow down to you and kiss your ass like your some kind of King so you might as well get over it buttercup

Regarding the last one for Bait reasons you decided to bring janky brained Joe into this... What a legend! You really showed us Dems the middle finger and went "Fuck ALL of You" 😂 Hey pal I'm NGL, but all I'm saying is that maybe you shouldn't be so into your own p***tical fart clouds so much because all that methane n shit will clog up your thinking.

"OMG I've been exposed by my own "Brilliance" in taking down these critics, please don't expose me"

W H E E Z E !!!

this last bits my favorite part

"*Clears throat* "If you disagree with me I'm going to "delete my account"

(Welp I guess I disagree with you :D, have a nice day ^^ Adios!! 🤣) Wait? You were actually Serious??? 🤣🤣🤣

"run to Twitter" with all my problems (because of course your one of those losers) and "bitch" to my two followers that "Will raise all hell" down onto those "Antis" who are so Mean and Negative where my post is sure to go viral enough to take down the entire critical community and reap their rights away from them"

Without any proof, but instead your tail tucked between your legs as you run and hide.

PA THETIC

Managed to get this on the way out. A Viv Stan in denial who's also a hypocrite. Oh but we "anti Viv Stan critics" have "ass takes" and "no valid criticism" You blindly support woomy... The same person who attacked multiple people in our communities for having valid opinions!

Fucking Cringe dude

[fairdale]

Can you rank the TLH characters and ships? I wanna know if we're on the same page :p

omg wait this is hard sljgkjls okay

characters that i'll rank (saying it in case i forget anyone so you know it's because i forgot): james, lucie, cordelia, jesse, matthew, kit, alastair, grace, anna, thomas, ariadne

alastair (OF COURSE)

matthew (ALSO OF COURSE)

thomas

james (you don't know how much it pains me that he's number 4)

anna

cordelia

lucie

jesse

kit

ariadne

grace

tbh a lot of them are really close in the ranking, but since you asked, i deliver

aaaand for ships: herondaisy, thomastair, blackdale (is that jesse and lucie's? i'm not sure now, i'll call them that tho), anna x ariadne, kit x grace, matthew x cordelia

thomastair (OBVIOUSLY)

herondaisy

anna x ariadne (i like them a lot tbh)

blackdale

matt x cordelia (i actually like them but i felt so sad for matt and i want him to be happy so)

kit x grace (i also like them a lot! and i loved when kit came back as a ghost to tell grace to trust more in herself, that was beautiful. tbh, i think that if we had had more of them they would be higher, but i also don't love grace outside of when she's with kit/lucie and maybe jesse so...)