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ghostboneswrites2 · 3 months

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Crush

This one is for the sensitive girlies with emotional regulation issues that find themselves hopelessly attracted to emotionally unavailable men. (Aka me) Idk how I feel about it tbh. We’ll see.

Summary: While on a Rick-ordered fishing trip with Daryl, things are tense and uncomfortable. Emotions run high, things are said. (Prison Era)

Warnings: fem!reader / age gap (reader is in her early-mid 20s) / swearing / dramatic and angsty / mean!Daryl

Masterlist // Taglist

Seductive Summer - D.D. Fic Challenge

Dividers by sister-lucifer

A bead of sweat trickled down your temple as you licked your lips, mouth dry from the hot sun. You blinked, eyes fixated on rough hands and bulging muscles as the thin fabric of a black button-up struggled to contain their mass. He moved with precision, callouses delicately threading the line through the pretentiously small hole of the fishing hook.

“Ya gonna help or sit there lickin’ your lips like a bitch in heat?” Daryl finally snapped, growing tired of the sensation of lustful eyes boring into him. In a feeble attempt to mask your shame, you rolled your eyes and huffed, annoyedly picking up a hook to thread your own line through.

This wasn’t a rare occurrence. If anything, it was the norm. Daryl, the handsome but brooding archer, simply trying to complete whatever tasks had been delegated to him on any given day, while the young twenty-something years old Y/N gawks at his physique. It got under his skin, to say the least. He was a man of responsibility, and he found his inner workings far too complex for some little girl with a childish crush to ever understand.

He’d allow it for some time — the stares, the gnawing of your lips, the way you tended to linger around wherever he went — and then the flattery would wear off quickly, and he’d be sure to make it known. It wasn’t like it was a secret that you adored him. He knew it, you knew it, everyone did. You could barely keep your eyes off him from the moment you met him.

Still, despite the judgmental onlookers and his not-so-subtle lack of fondness for you, you just couldn’t help your thirst. To put it simply, you were down bad.

When Daryl had finished his half of the lines he moved on to fashioning small fish traps to place in the stream. He noticed you seemed lost in thought, attention set on the task at hand for once, instead of his big arms and broad chest, or the way his sweat always perfectly follows the framework of his—

“Ya draggin’ your ass on purpose?” He asked, breaking you free from your thoughts.

“I’ll finish when I finish.” You fired back.

That was another thing that irked him to his core. You were so childish. Any hint of criticism or expression of his discomfort always resulted in you sulking or catching an attitude. He didn’t have time to coddle your feelings.

He shrugged you off and focused on nestling the first trap strategically between some stones. As he worked his way down to the last trap, he wondered to himself why Rick always sent you out to fish with him. As previously mentioned, everyone knew how you felt about Daryl, including Rick. Most people also knew that the feeling was not mutual, and in fact, there might have even been some resentment on Daryl’s end.

Truth be told, Daryl didn’t exactly know why it was such an issue. Aside from your youth, which he felt he did not share, you were fairly pleasant in the beginning. Your sweet grin and generous nature weren’t exactly unwelcome at first. It wasn’t until your efforts became too blatant that he felt himself physically recoil at the sound of your voice. As soon as he noticed that people were catching on, watching in awe every time you’d approach him with some fresh water or a snack, a flip switched in his mind. You were no longer a lovely addition to his daily proceedings, but a nuisance to his inner peace.

That was when you changed, too. You noticed the contrast in behavior immediately. It was a talent of yours — or maybe a curse — to be so perceptive. You’d been that way your whole life. Always walking on eggshells, analyzing every word spoken or facial expression made.

When Daryl’s friendliness transformed into indifference, you found yourself trying harder and harder, only to feel more and more disappointment with each failed attempt at gaining his affections. You frequently scolded yourself for the pathetic behavior, which was what you were doing while you slowly threaded fishing lines through the hooks. Any woman with respect for herself would have abandoned ship at the first signs of angry seas, but you were the kind of captain that preferred to drown with her vessel.

Soon enough you’d finished with your hooks and Daryl had placed the last trap. With haste, you both worked to tie worms to the hooks and cast the lines, hoping by this time tomorrow to be returning to camp with a fish dinner. The stream was half a days hike east of the prison, so usually teams of two would take a two or three day ‘vacation’, as Glenn and Maggie would call it, and bring back as much fish as they could.

Once all eight lines were cast, you planted your makeshift rods in the dirt and got to work building a campfire while Daryl hurried to try and get a few squirrels to eat. At least, that was his excuse. In reality, Carol had packed enough food for the both of you. He just wanted to get away.

By nightfall, he was back, cleaning a raccoon and preparing it for the fire. You already had the tent pitched and water boiling to drink, so you were just relaxing with you feet in the cold creek.

Daryl was nice enough to let you know when the raccoon was ready, so you ate at the fire with him in silence.

“I’ll take watch tonight.” Daryl announced as he shoveled the last piece of meat into his mouth.

“You take watch every time.” You pointed out. It was true, he always kept watch on fishing trips.

“What, ya wanna stay up all night? Be my guest.” He retorted.

“I’m not saying that, I’m just saying you don’t have to stay up every time.” You droned.

“Well it ain’t like ya ever volunteer.” He scoffed.

“Because you always do it first.”

“Yeah, ‘cause ya never speak up the whole day we’re workin’.” He argued.

“Okay well I’m volunteering now.”

“Well, forget it, ‘cause I already said I’d do it.”

“Fine.” You shrugged.

With a huff, you pushed yourself off the ground, swiping dry leaves from your jeans as you marched over to the tent to retrieve a sleeping bag for Daryl. You dropped it on the ground beside him. It landed with a soft thud.

“The hell’s that for?” He asked.

“Use it or don’t. I don’t care. Carol packed it for you.” You said bitterly.

You retired to the tent after that, working on taking your gun apart and putting it back together for practice. When you grew tired of that, you dug in your bag for a cigarette and stealthily unzipped your tent, scanning the coast for any signs of Daryl and his deep scowl that he seemingly reserved for you only. The fire had died down to smoky ember, but you could just barely make out the stillness in the dark. Nothing was moving, which meant Daryl had probably stalked off somewhere, and you could be alone.

You never really liked being alone, but at least you were free to be yourself, unperceived by others.

You found yourself a nice stump to sit on before you lit the cigarette, savoring the first drag before slowly exhaling.

“That best not be one of mine.” A husky voice startled you from the dark. Your attention snapped toward the trees as his looming figure emerged from the shadows. You rolled your eyes and turned away again.

“You mean the stale ones you lifted off a rotting body? No thanks.” You snarked.

“Whatever.” He tutted, twitching his neck to flip some hair out of his eyes. You could hear his footsteps fading away behind you as you tried to enjoy your smoke without his miserable aura around to cloud up the fresh air. To your surprise, he returned moments later with a cigarette of his own. He leaned back against a tree across from you, sliding down until his ass hit the ground. His face illuminated behind the flame as he flicked his zippo open. Subtly, you watched while the shadows danced across his chiseled features as he guided the tip of his cigarette into the flame with his lips.

With a metallic click, the lighter flipped shut and he was shrouded in darkness once more. Your eyes thoughtlessly followed the small red orb of his cherry as he pulled on his cigarette and dropped his hands back into his lap. He didn’t say anything, and it was a tad too dark to really be able to tell, but you knew he was watching you, just as you were watching him. The minutes ticked by as your cigarette faded to ash. Just as you leaned down to snuff the butt in the dirt, he cleared his throat.

“‘M gon’ tell Rick not to send ya out here with me no more.” He informed you.

“Why?” You asked defensively.

“‘Cause you’re too slow. I’ll get more done with someone else.” He explained.

“Like who?” You insisted.

“Like someone who ain’t so distracted.” He sighed with exasperation. He didn’t really even know why he told you that. He was considering telling Rick not to send you with him anymore, but he hadn’t really decided one way or another yet. He guessed he just had to cause tension to keep himself from staring at you too long.

“Yeah.” You scoffed. “That’s why.”

“Well, why the hell else would it be?” He snapped.

“You just don’t wanna be around me.” You mumbled.

“Maybe I wouldn’t mind it if you’d act like a fuckin’ adult!” He raised his voice now, and you regretted saying anything. He could sense you shrinking back from his harsh tone, which only angered him more. “All ya do is stare at me all fuckin’ day and pout like a schoolgirl when ya don’t get your way!”

Tears welled at the rim of your eyes, sniffling as you swallowed a lump in your throat. You hated being yelled at, being cornered, being made to feel like a vulnerable child. You hated that he could affect you that way.

Quickly, the pain and anxiety melted away. You began to feel angry. Enraged, even, at the fact that he could treat you so harshly. What had you done to deserve that? Why did he think it was okay to be so cruel?

A rush of adrenaline washed over you as you abruptly stood to your feet, trembling as your emotions overcame you.

“Excuse me for trying! For being kind! For putting up with your piss-poor attitude and still thinking the fucking world of you! All I do is try to treat you the way I wish someone would treat me! No matter how fucking awful you are to me!” You shouted, bitter and full of resentment.

“So why the hell do ya still try?!” He shouted back, pushing himself off the ground and towering over you. In the dark, your most visible feature was your big wet eyes glistening in the natural light of the moon. His eyes flickered between them, somewhat intimidating by how expressive they were. A man like him spent his whole life perfecting his mask, hiding his true feelings from the world, protecting them beneath the surface of his hardened shell.

“Because I love, Daryl!” You shrieked, voice coarse from strain. “I love. I have so much love to give and nowhere to fucking put it! And — and I see you and I see a man who’s never felt love and I—“ You paused to let out a sob and catch your breath. “Because for whatever reason, I saw you and decided you were the one that I needed to love and that doing so would make everything else make sense.”

Daryl seemed taken aback by your confession. He didn’t know how to process any of it, so he instead decided to push you away even more.

“I don’t need your fuckin’ love, alright?” He spat, emphasizing the word love as if the word disgusted him. “I don’t need it, and I don’t want it.”

His words stung as they approached you from gritted teeth. The blow was harsh enough o knock you down from your rage-high.

“Well…” You croaked, sniffling as you wiped remnants of fresh tears from your cheeks. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, you found yourself at a loss of words. Maybe there was nothing else to say. “Glad we cleared things up, then.”

You spent the night silent in the tent, tears spinning down your flushed cheeks as you stared blankly at the worn fabric above you. Eventually you fell asleep, but you got little rest. Daryl gathered all the fish the next morning while you tore down the campsite. The hike back home was spent feet apart, both of you ensuring to keep your distance. Your stoic expressions didn’t go unnoticed upon returning to the prison, but luckily nobody pried. Carol, Maggie, and Beth cooked up the fish and some fresh garden veggies while you snuck off to shower and Daryl disappeared to wherever.

You skipped dinner, hiding away in your cell with a sheet hung up for privacy. You actually fell asleep fairly quick, exhausted from the vast range of emotions you experienced in such a short amount of time the night before.

Daryl, on the other hand, laid awake on his cot for a majority of the night. His mind’s eye repeated the events of the night prior, peppered with correlated instances from times passed. Carol had told him once that he was too hard on you, that you were just searching for anything that would make you feel good in such a rotten world. She was right, he knew that, and yet he could not bring himself to allow it.

He didn’t see how nobody else saw it the way he did. Would it not have been easier keep things simple? It made more sense to him for things to remain above the surface level, where emotions and deep connections could not harm either of you. To grow attached in this world was surely a fools game. So why did everyone seem so hell-bent on making friends and falling in love? Why were they willing to take the risk?

He was exhausted the next morning. By the time he fell asleep the sun was creeping over the horizon. You were a bit better off after a full night of sleep. Your eyes were less puffy than the day before, and your stomach was aching for a bite to eat. Daryl had no appetite or energy. He stayed in bed well past noon.

You didn’t see him until dinner that night, not that you were looking. For the first time in a while, you decided to allow yourself some peace.

Since you’d slept so well the night before, you offered to take over watch for Carol, which she accepted gratefully. You brought yourself a cigarette and one of the books from the library to entertain yourself. Just as you settled in and got comfortable in the tower, the hatch opened and Daryl emerged with his own items for amusement.

You didn’t say anything as he lifted himself up. You just watched him quizzically. He paused when he noticed you sitting there.

“I got watch tonight. Told Rick.” He informed you.

“I took over for Carol.” You countered blandly.

“Well you’re relived.” He pushed.

“No thanks.” You brushed him off.

“Ain’t askin’.” He said.

“I was here first.” You shrugged, lighting your cigarette and flipping to the first chapter of your book.

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere so ya might as well get on.” He urged.

“I’m sure the fence could use some relief from the walkers.” You suggested.

“So why don’t ya go and take care of ‘em?” He retorted.

“Because I’m on watch.” You countered.

Daryl sighed in defeat.

“Got an extra one o’ those?” He asked, gesturing toward the cigarette.

“Only brought the one.” You replied.

“Look,” he began, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. “‘M sorry I was an asshole, but it can’t be the way ya want it to be.”

“And what way did I want it?” You quirked a brow.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Make shit hard. Ya always do that.”

“So then the simple solution would be to leave me alone. I get it. You don’t want me.”

“It ain’t about wantin’ you, girl!” He groaned in exasperation. “It’s about protectin’ you! Protectin’ me! Protectin’ everyone!”

His chest rose and fell as his fists clenched at his sides. You stared up at him and fawned under his blazing eyes.

“We can’t… I can’t.” He insisted.

Silence consumed you both in the night. The tension was so palpable that it drowned out the nightly buzz of crickets and frogs in the trees. Daryl felt he had said too much already. He should have just let you hate him and left it be. He couldn’t, though. As much as he wanted to be cold, hard, and arrogant, he was very much a soft soul with a longing for genuine connection.

With a deep sigh and an expression of defeat, he retreated back to his cell without another word to you.

To be continued… Maybe??

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initialchains · 7 months

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teenage dirtbag, baby! | luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: there is nothing more exhausting than being known as the picture perfect daughter of aphrodite… luckily, camp half-blood’s resident teenage dirtbag luke castellan can’t relate at all. fake dating him to piss off your siblings and mother could never go wrong, right? (based on 18 by anarbor)

wc: 6.5k

warnings: smoking, mentions of drinking, mentions of drugs, mentions of sex, implied sexual content, drew tanaka being a bitch, and kinda ooc luke bcs hes meant to be well … a teenage dirtbag.

a/n: its still valentine’s day for me sooo happy valentines 💌💗 !! in mexico valentine’s day is also known as the day of friendship so this one is dedicated to my favorite people ever: @emiliehornby @love-that-we-were-in and @kestisvrse <3 !! hope you enjoy it mwah !!

The sounds of campers laughing and gossiping in the dining pavilion are drowned out by your siblings and their annoyingly loud whispers about the allegedly cute (you’d beg to differ) son of Ares who joined camp less than twelve hours ago. Sure, he seemed like a nice guy even though he's a child of the god of war, but you were certain the only reason they kept bringing him up was because they wanted to set you up with him.

“And his arms, oh my gods! Have you seen them?” one of your brothers chimed in, trying to get you to agree with him, but all you could come up with was a hum and a polite smile.

It pissed you off a bit, the knowledge of you never being able to go against your siblings' wishes.. the fear of disappointing them and your mother being all-consuming and blinding you with fear.

There were times you’d think about it if you’re being honest. Times where you would let yourself dream of doing something so stupidly reckless for once. Something that would stop your siblings from walking all over you and treating you like their personal lapdog.

Not only was it tiring but it was also humiliating to a certain point. You were older than most of them and you were pretty sure you were the only one that took being a demigod seriously, even taking your time to strategize for Capture The Flag with Clarisse, and yet… you rejected Chiron when he asked you to be a counselor and told him to ask Silena instead.

And you loved your family—you really did, but it was getting exhausting. Always having to be perfect was draining you and you were afraid of the kind of person you’d become if you allowed this to keep going.

“He totally wants to ask you out,” Silena’s voice snapped you out of the daze you were trapped in. You turned your head to the right, facing your half-sister with a small frown on your face.

“You really think so?” you replied, trying your best to sound excited.

“Oh, I know so,” she answered before going on a whole rant about how cute you’d look with the newly claimed son of Ares. A son of Ares—that you badly wanted to remind her—had only been in camp for less than twelve hours and you knew nothing about.

You stayed in the dining pavilion with your siblings until you found the strength to tell them you were tired and wanted to go to sleep (an incredibly blatant lie but it didn’t look like they cared) and stood up, brushing the dust off your jeans.

“Wait, I’ll go with you!” Silena said with a smile, standing up and moving closer to you.

“You don’t have to. You can stay with them if you want to, really—“ you were cut off by your half-sister with an exasperated sigh.

“I want to go with you. Plus, I can walk back here once I drop you off at the cabin,” she stated with a playful roll of her eyes.

The two of you walked back to the Aphrodite cabin in a comfortable silence. You liked being with Silena, she was a few years younger than you but she carried herself with so much grace and love it was hard to feel uncomfortable or weird whenever you hung out with her.

You kept your gaze on the sky, noticing that the moon was out by now. “Hey,” Silena whispered, trying to get your attention.

“You okay?” you answered. Your mind was practically hardwired to always look after your siblings, so your brain was unwillingly making you think of the worst-case scenario.

“What? Yeah, I am okay,” Silena was quick to reassure you, “I just wanted to talk to you about—“

“I swear to all the gods, Silena. If this is about that camper..” you replied with a small sigh. The two of you stopped walking when you reached your cabin, deciding to continue the conversation outside.

“He’s not that bad! He is a nice guy and the two of you would look really cute together,” she insisted.

“You don’t even know him.”

“Ugh, fine. Good thing is there are other cute campers we can introduce you to. I met one of Charlie’s brothers a few weeks ago and I think he’d—“

“I can’t do this tonight,” you replied in an exhausted tone.

“Wow, okay. No need to be mean about it,” Silena muttered.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’ve been trying to help you find a boyfriend for months now and you always shut me down. It was fine at first but now you’re just being mean,” she explained.

“Mean? Silena, you said it yourself. I’ve always shut you down because I’m not interested in getting one.”

“Whatever,” she replied bitterly before turning around and walking back to the dining pavilion, leaving you alone outside of your cabin.

You stared at her back as she walked away, going through the last few minutes over and over in your head. Were you being mean? All you did was stick up for yourself. You didn’t understand why you were feeling bad for standing up against your siblings just for once.

A snort made you realize you weren’t alone. You turned your head towards the noise just to be met with.. oh.

Luke Castellan was leaning against the side of your cabin, carefully hidden under the darkness of the night and the shadows of the trees, he had a cigarette in his right hand and an obnoxious smirk adorning his even more obnoxious face.

“Hope you enjoyed the show, Castellan.”

Luke raised his hands as if he had been caught and blew the smoke away, “I’m on your side, she was being a fucking bitch.”

“Don’t call her that, she’s just a kid.”

Luke raised a brow before taking another drag of his cigarette, “Do not call your sister a bitch after seeing her.. be a bitch to you?” he shook his head. “Oh, princess, you need to work on getting rid of that altruism.”

“Do you even know what that word means?” you snapped, not being in the mood to indulge in whatever it was he wanted to talk about.

“Why? You want to teach me?” He said with a smirk.

“Don’t even start with your annoying stuff, Castellan,” you muttered, running a hand down your face, clearly overwhelmed with everything that had happened.

“Because you know you won’t want me to stop?” he pressed, but after a moment of silence his smirk fell and a frown took over his features.

“Uh.. you want to...” he trailed off and cleared his throat, “you want to talk about it or something?”

You squinted at him before eventually letting out a sigh and walking over to Luke, standing next to him with your back pressed against the wooden walls of your cabin. Luke extended his arm away from you to keep the smoke far from your face.

“So, um... Silena wants to set me up with that new camper,” you started.

“Fuck. The Ares one?” Luke interrupted.

“Castellan.”

“Right, sorry. Please continue, princess.”

You decided to ignore the insufferable pet name he gave you and continued, “The thing is I do want a boyfriend, just not… him.”

Luke hummed before bringing the cigarette to his lips again and inhaling the smoke in, he kept his mouth closed as he thought of something decent to say before slightly tilting his head away from you and blowing out the smoke upwards.

“Alright, and have you tried telling her to stop?” he cut himself off and shook his head. “Nope that was shitty advice, have you tried maybe describing your type or whatever it is you Aphrodite people say to describe the people you’re attracted to.”

“My type?” you replied, almost offended by the statement.

“Yeah?” Luke answered as if it was the most obvious thing to do, “Just describe the type of guys you’re into and I’m sure that cult of yours you like to call siblings will be happy to help…” he trailed off when he noticed your gaze set on his right hand and your bottom lip in between your teeth as he flicked the cigarette, causing the ashes to fall into the ground.

He looked up from his hand and burst out into laughter, shaking his head before whispering an amused fuck.

“Oh?” Luke said with a bright smile and raised brows, “You find this attractive, angel?”

“That thing is going to kill you,” you explained, “I’m not attracted to people that like to slowly kill themselves.”

“Fucking bummer. I wanted to see you take a drag, that would’ve been really hot,” he said, his smile not wavering. “Next thing you’re going to tell me is that you don’t drink, right?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Look at you, being such a good girl,” Luke teased before throwing the rest of his cigarette to the ground and stepping on it.

“Also, that thing you said about Silena being just a kid was really fucking stupid. She’s almost the same age as Annabeth and she doesn’t act like an asshole, I’m pretty sure your sweet little sister is just a bitch.”

Annabeth. You forgot that even though Luke is an annoyance most of the time and prefers to stick to himself.. he still has a soft spot for the twelve year old daughter of Athena. It was kind of endearing.

“Annabeth is a daughter of Athena, you can’t expect her to act—“

“You didn’t act like Silena when you were fourteen. You need to stop giving her excuses and allow yourself to get mad at her.”

“I’d rather have my siblings get mad at me and just stop perceiving me as this perfect and weak person, maybe once that happens they’ll stop trying to mess with my life,” you explained, your gaze set towards the ground.

Luke was about to open his mouth and try to come up with a funny one-liner to make you feel better, but he didn’t get to because you were quick to look up at him with a gasp and wide eyes.

“The fuck? Are you okay?”

“I need you.”

“Shit, angel. Most girls say that after a few dates but I’m not against the idea,” he said with an amused look in his eyes.

“Ew, no. I mean, I need to date you—fake date you.”

“I’m uh... not for sale?” Luke answered, clearly confused by the plan you were trying to explain.

“No, Castellan. Listen to me. My siblings despise you, I’m sure they’d set my bed on fire as a way of cleansing my soul from you if they find out we’re dating.”

Luke’s eyes got bright and his smile widened (if that was even possible), “Set your bed on fire? And what would we do in your bed for them to feel disgusted by its existence?”

“You’re disgusting. Anyway, if we fake date I’ll get to stop being perceived as their perfect sister and you’ll have bragging rights for dating an Aphrodite kid,” you said, moving your hands as you spoke.

“I’m pretty sure Drew started the rumors about me having lice and smuggling coke into camp, are you sure you want to fake date me of all people?” Luke asked carefully, trying to make you think about what was at stake. He didn’t give a shit about staining his already nonexistent reputation, but he couldn’t have you ruin yours.

“I am so sure, Castellan,” you reassured him.

“You know, for a good girl I’m extremely surprised you never say please.”

“Please, Castellan. Could you please be my fake boyfriend so I can finally stop being seen as my siblings' personal toy?” you said with a fake smile while bringing your hands together as an exaggerated way of begging Luke to say yes.

“You’re so cute when you beg. But you need to prove to me you’re serious about this fake dating thing. Meet me tomorrow at the bonfire, no bullshit.”

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

You had been on edge the entire day. Silena seemed to be past the argument, which made you feel better to an extent, but that didn’t seem to shake the uneasy feeling that settled in your gut because throughout the day you could feel someone staring at you. You could feel Luke staring at you.

You were walking past the sword fighting arena with Katie Gardner from the Demeter Cabin the first time it happened. The feeling of a pair of eyes completely set on you. You turned your head to the right just to be met with Luke’s exhausted figure, he was sweating and panting, but that didn’t stop him from running his eyes up and down your figure and smiling at you.

To say Katie was disgusted would be an understatement. A “Castellan is a dick, you should stay away from him,” was enough to stop you from staring at him and turning your head back to Katie. She went on to explain how Luke was a “real shitty person” and only hooked up with her as a way of getting her to grow weed in the back of the stables.

It happened around eight times in the last two hours (not that you were counting) and it only got worse when the moon came up and everyone was making their way to the bonfire. You were walking next to Michael Yew when you felt a hand on your lower back.

Luke’s hand on your lower back, to be exact. He left it there as he walked past you, only turning his head back to say “It’s adorable to see you together, are you two a couple?”

You had to hold yourself back from strangling him when you heard his irritating laugh after he saw Michael’s reaction to his statement. Michael tried his best to be polite and tell him he was wrong, that there was nothing going on between the two of you.

But his reply only seemed to fuel Luke’s actions even more because all he did was answer with a cocky “Oh, I know. Our princess here is only into... what was it? People that like to slowly kill themselves with cigarettes?” before walking away.

You were going to kill him.

Michael left your side as soon as you arrived, moving to sit with his siblings from the Apollo Cabin… leaving you with two choices: sitting with your siblings or sitting next to Luke (who for some reason always sat alone and spent the entire time listening to the music coming from the MP3 player he somehow managed to get into camp).

So this is what Luke meant, you thought. This was the only way you could prove to him and everyone that you were serious about dating him—fake dating him—but it's not like they would ever know the truth.

You dragged your feet as you walked towards Luke, clearly having second thoughts about your plan, but there was no turning back now. You tried to ignore the confused look Drew was giving you and the gasps you could hear coming from your siblings.

“I’m pretty sure Drew started the rumors about me having lice and smuggling coke into camp, are you sure you want to fake date me of all people?” You weren't so sure anymore but that didn’t stop you from taking a seat next to Luke Castellan, who took one of his earphones off and looked at you with a smile.

“Happy now? I just proved how serious I am about this,” you whispered to him, trying your best to not let anyone hear you.

Luke nodded before saying, “You could’ve done better, but I’ll take it.”

“Done better? I just sat next to you in front of the entire camp, isn’t this good enough for you?” you asked, indignation evident in your tone.

“Promise not to beat me up?” Luke said before pulling your arm and manhandling your body so you were on top of him, sitting on his lap. He placed his hands on your hips and looked up at you with stars in his eyes.

“Wow, Castellan. How scandalous, I’m sitting on your lap,” you deadpanned.

He chuckled, bringing you closer to him and pressing his lips against yours. Luke’s hands felt like fire against your skin, all you could feel was a heat taking all over your body as he continued to kiss you, only pulling away to catch his breath before bringing you in for another one, this time he kissed you deeper and faster.

Luke dragged you closer to him by pressing your hips against his and all you could do was melt into him and the feeling of his lips against yours. In the distance, you could hear gasps and people gagging, and you were pretty sure the campers from the Ares Cabin were cheering and whistling, but all your thoughts were on Luke Castellan and how good of a kisser he is.

You pulled away first this time, trying to steady your breathing as you looked into his eyes. He licked his lips before whispering “We should go.”

Your eyes widened as soon as he said that, the implications of what the sentence meant making you feel nervous. Luke was quick to reassure you, “If we leave, your siblings will be even more outraged. We don’t have to do anything, but they’ll think we are doing…some stuff. Just come to the woods with me for a little while.”

You nodded and grabbed his hand as he guided you through the woods. You could hear Silena calling out your name and warning you about the consequences of your actions, but her voice was drowned out by the loud cheers coming from Clarisse.

Once the two of you were far enough from the rest of the campers, Luke let go of your hand and sat down by the lake, nodding his head as a way of asking you to join him.

You sat in silence for a few minutes until Luke spoke first. “How long do you think we should keep this thing up?”

“Valentina and Drew will want us to be over by tonight,” you said with a smile, a laugh escaping your lips. You didn’t notice how Luke’s eyes got brighter when he heard your laugh or how the melody that came out of your lips went straight through his heart and made him feel more alive.

“But I think a week should be enough. We can say we’ve been secretly dating for like... five months? That way it won’t be weird if we break up in a week,” you explained while your fingers played with your camp necklace.

Luke nodded before going silent again, staring at the lake with a look you couldn’t quite comprehend. Your gaze was set on him, your eyes traveling from his toned arms, all the way to the scar that sat right below his right eye.

“I know it’s awful, I can feel you staring at it,” he murmured. You could physically feel your heart sinking when he said it. You cleared your throat, “No, I… I think it’s beautiful. I think you’re—” Luke turned his head to face you, an inquisitive look in his eyes. “I think you’re really brave, Luke.”

“Beautiful?” Luke asked, confusion written all over his face. “You should hear what your siblings say about it, then. I’m sure your opinion would change in a second.”

“Being an Aphrodite kid means you see beauty everywhere,” you explained, “And I think your scar must be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Luke stared at you with an unreadable expression, making your heart almost beat out of your chest.

“Are you flirting with me, angel?”

“Of course, you’d ruin the moment. Screw you, man.” You rolled your eyes.

Luke threw his head back in a fit of laughter, it made you want to strangle him… again. “Did you just say screw you? Gods, princess, saying fuck won’t kill you.”

“I don’t like to curse, thank you for pointing it out, Castellan,” you said, playfully shoving him, making him fake a gasp.

“You went from trying to seduce me to trying to kill me, you’re so interesting, angel,” he said before letting out a sigh. “It, uh… It was really hard at first, getting used to the scar.”

“Having people call it all sorts of names, and looking at me with nothing but pity in their eyes was not easy to get used to. But after some time you just… stop caring. I mean, I’m not that big of an asshole to hold a grudge over a fucking scar, it even looks sick. But yeah, when it gets hard again all I can do is snort a line and move on.

“The coke smuggling was real?” you gasped, only focusing on the last sentence he said. Luke tried to keep a straight face but his facade fell the moment he noticed your wide eyes. Luke Castellan has the type of laugh that makes everything get fuzzy and makes you feel lightheaded, and all you wanted to do was to come up with bad jokes just for the sole reason of hearing him do it again.

“Fuck, you really believe anything, huh?”

“Shut up, Castellan. I’ll literally stab you and let you slowly bleed to death,” you threatened, standing up from your place next to him. Luke followed you as you walked back to the cabins.

“You do know I’m the best swordsman in the last 300 years, right? Do you even know how to wield a sword?” he asked, matching your pace and walking next to you.

“Low blow, just because I don’t like to indulge in violence it doesn’t mean I don’t know how to wield a sword,” you retorted.

Luke snorted a laugh, “You don’t know, do you?”

“No, I don’t. Will you shut up now?”

“I only will if you accept to let me teach you how to fight tomorrow,” Luke said with a tilt to his head. He didn’t even give you a chance to answer because he walked away from you while saying a loud “Meet me tomorrow morning in the sword fighting arena.”

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

You were sure you were seconds away from passing out. It's been around two hours of sparring with Luke and your arms and legs were about to give out. The sun was starting to come out, which meant this torture was nearly over. At least that’s what Luke promised. “We’ll stop as soon as the other campers wake up, that way you won’t have to be embarrassed if they see your… skills.”

The two of you circled each other, your swords were raised and Luke’s blade was pointing straight at you. Luke took a second to study your stance before lunging forward, his sword meeting yours as you quickly blocked his attack. “Not too bad, huh?” Luke teased before trying to get another hit, his moves becoming more calculated the longer you kept blocking his advances. Proving he wasn’t called the best swordsman at camp for nothing.

With a disarming maneuver you weren’t aware of, Luke was quick to throw your sword to the ground and have you stumbling back, not being able to regain your footing. Luke gave you a smirk when your body hit the ground with a small thud, “That was easy,” he said, “We should do this more often.”

“Nope, this is a one-time thing, Castellan,” Luke rolled his eyes before bringing the blade of his sword closer to you, reaching for your chin with a glint in his eyes. The blade met your chin and Luke lifted it, making you meet his gaze as he slowly made you stand up by raising his sword even higher.

The two of you stood still, staring intently into each other’s eyes until you heard it—the sound of the Ares Cabin making their way to the arena. Luke let out a surprised shit, dropped his sword to the ground, and walked closer to you, cupping your jaw with his right hand and kissing you.

Your lips met in a hurried collision, causing the same fire from yesterday to set in your stomach. Your hands moved to Luke’s hair, softly pulling it as the kiss got heated. You knew this was fake, you knew this kiss meant nothing to him… but you didn’t want him to stop. “Holy fuck, are you two always sucking each other’s faces?” Clarisse’s voice cut through the moment, causing you to pull away from Luke, unable to meet his gaze.

“Yeah, that’s what being in a relationship entails. I don’t think you’d know much about it, La Rue,” Luke breathes out.

“Don’t you have weed to sell or a cheap bottle of vodka to down, Castellan?”

“Aw, you know me so well,” Luke answered before picking up both of your swords and grabbing your hand, walking away from the arena.

The following days were (and you hated to admit it) filled with the most fun you’ve ever had. Luke would come up with some insane idea for a fake date and it would always end with one of you lying about seeing a camper or hearing Silena’s voice as an excuse to make out with each other.

There was this one time the two of you were having a picnic by the strawberry fields and the day ended with the two of you hiding in the empty forge while making out, running your hands over each other’s bodies, and doing the normal stuff fake couples always do… it all happened because Luke swore he heard Valentina’s voice near the fields. (You were sure Valentina had been on the stables that entire day because she had cleaning duty, but why wouldn’t you play along with something you also wanted to do?)

It was Sunday–the last day of your fake relationship–when Silena finally found the guts to talk to you about Luke. You even felt slightly bad for the girl because she was so nervous when she sat next to you in the dining pavilion.

“I..um... I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” she began, “Well, there are lots of things for me to apologize for, but I think it’s pretty obvious what the main problem is.”

“The way I’ve been treating you is not okay and I’m really ashamed of it. You shouldn’t have to feel pressured to be the person we want you to be, I used to see you as someone who couldn’t do things on her own and always needed someone to push her and help her handle everything… and now I see I was wrong,” Silena explained, running a hand through her hair.

“It’s fine, Silena. I don’t mind.”

“Well, I do. You’re strong and more than capable of doing things on your own, and you don’t need me to try and help you or fix you.” She took a deep breath. “I didn't know you were dating Luke, and to be honest I didn’t even know he was your type. He is so… weird and I never would’ve guessed you were dating. I mean, Drew told me he does cocaine and—”

“He doesn’t,” you interrupted.

Silena raised a brow before continuing, “Anyway, I’m sorry if I ever made you feel bad for just... existing. And you always look so happy after hanging out with Luke, I truly hope the two of you stay together for a long time.”

You didn’t even know how to explain the situation so you just blurted out “I broke up with him.”

Silena looked shocked for a few seconds before letting out a deep breath, “Oh, thank the gods. Just because we trust you it doesn’t mean we trust him,” she spat the him with so much disgust it made you feel sick. “You deserve so much better.”

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

This is probably the first time you have ever felt ill at the thought of seeing Luke. Sure, you used to be annoyed by his presence before the whole fake dating situation even started, but at least you were a strange type of friends back then. Not really close but also not complete strangers. There were times you’d catch him hiding his secret stash of weed behind the stables and didn’t tell anyone, and he’d always pay you back by lying to Chiron about you practicing your sword skills with him. (You had only used a sword once and it was years ago when you were still a new camper, you had no idea why Chiron would ever believe him.)

Luke was sitting in his usual spot by the lake, a cigarette in his hand. It had become a tradition for the two of you to always meet up by the lake before curfew to talk about your day and practice your kissing so it wouldn’t look fake.

“Hey,” you said, taking a seat next to him. Luke threw his cigarette to the ground, stepped on it, and almost instinctively wrapped an arm around your waist, kissing your temple. “Blink-182?” you asked, nodding at the MP3 he had on his lap.

“The Smashing Pumpkins,” Luke answered, taking his earphones off. “Mellon Collie And The Infinite Sadness is one of the best albums ever made.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I’ll take your word for it,” you said. Luke smiled and poked your side.

“So, there’s something I need to talk to you about,” you began, but Luke held up his hand as a way to get you to stop.

“Can I say something first?” he asked, looking shy for probably the first time since the day you met him.

You nodded and let him take the lead of the conversation. “Alright, so… I’m kind of shit with words so I’m sorry if this doesn’t make any sense but this past week has probably been the best week of my life. And I’m not even fucking around, I don’t have many friends–apart from Annabeth, and getting to be with you is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“Being your friend is the greatest gift the gods have ever given me, and sometimes I feel like I don’t even deserve it. I’m a mess of a person, and you’re well… you’re you,” Luke stared deeply into your eyes, “And I just wanted to let you know that—”

Luke didn’t get to finish his sentence because this time it was you who cut him off with a kiss. You could taste the cigarette on his lips as he brought you closer to him, running a hand down your back and deepening the kiss before pulling away and moving to kiss your neck.

Luke began to trail kisses down your throat and only stopped to whisper a low “Look at you, what would Aphrodite say? I’m sure she’d be proud.”

Aphrodite.

You pushed him away the moment you remembered your mother. “Silena apologized. We can stop pretending now.”

Luke was silent and just stared at you, his fingers moving to fidget with the wire of his earphones. “Oh, right,” he cleared his throat. “It’s Sunday, I forgot.”

You knew he didn’t.

“Yup, so we can go back to normal now,” you said, looking away from his eyes because you knew it would only take one look into them for you to kiss him again.

“Good,” Luke stood up, not daring to even shoot you a glance, and walked away. Leaving you alone by the lake with the lingering smell of his cheap stolen cologne mixed with the cigarette he was smoking.

It didn’t help that you were welcomed into your cabin with hugs and your siblings congratulating you for breaking up with the son of Hermes. Sure, you weren’t the perfect sister anymore because you dated Luke Friendless-Freak Castellan, but knowing they liked you just because you were with him and then broke his heart made you want to set the cabin on fire.

The main rule of the Aphrodite Cabin was something your siblings were extremely proud of, but the thought of its existence made you want to storm into Mount Olympus by yourself and yell at your mother for putting all these useless ideas into their heads.

For a child of Aphrodite to prove themselves, they must make someone fall in love with them and then break that someone's heart.

Is it possible for the rule to backfire? For the child of Aphrodite to accidentally fall in love with someone and then break their own heart because of it? You didn’t even know if that was an option, but you were sure that’s exactly what you were going through right now.

It was hard for you to go to sleep that night because your mind kept replaying the past week on a loop. Your conversation with Luke by your cabin. The night of the bonfire. The conversation by the lake about his scar. Sparring with him. Going on a million fake dates. The night on the forge. Your last conversation with him.

“Look at you, what would Aphrodite say? I’m sure she’d be proud.”

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

You could feel Luke staring at you. Again.

You were helping Annabeth strategize for Capture The Flag, because she had the brilliant idea to have the Athena cabin team up with Hermes and Aphrodite. You didn’t know much about fighting and spent most of the time sitting with your sisters during the game, but that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy helping them come up with new plans.

Once the three of you were done, Annabeth excused herself with an awkward “I think Malcolm wanted me to help him go through some maps. You two have fun… chatting!” and left as fast as she could, leaving you alone with Luke.

You watched her leave the amphitheater and turned around to face Luke, “I can see why you like her. She’s so much like you.”

“Yeah, she’s like my little sister.”

The silence was so uncomfortable you almost broke down crying. You nodded and turned around, not being strong enough to face him, and walked away. You could hear him behind you, following you.

“Can we talk?” he pleaded.

You were about to open your mouth when Drew’s voice made you turn your head. “Gods, Castellan. It’s so embarrassing to still be hung up on your ex.”

Luke sighed, “Hello to you too, Tanaka.”

“Can you leave her alone? She doesn’t want to talk to you,” Drew said through a fake smile.

“Oh, really? Did she tell you that?” Luke answered, tilting his head as he spoke and making eye contact with you. Wordlessly begging you to please talk to him.

You stayed silent and looked away from him. Luke let out an incredulous laugh before nodding his head. “Good to know you’re back to being their little pet.”

Drew rolled her eyes and walked away, shoving Luke as she walked past him. “So? You’re just not going to say anything?” Luke said.

“What do you want me to say, Castellan?”

“Tell me that last week didn’t mean anything to you,” Luke answered, his voice trembling.

“Why do you care? I thought I was nothing but Drew’s little pet,” you replied, trying your best to not look weak in front of him.

Luke ran a hand through his hair and stepped closer to you, “I’m sure you’re thinking the exact same thing about yourself.”

You hated that he was right.

The truth made your blood boil. “I don’t want any of your shit,” Luke let out a genuine laugh this time, a mocking look in his eyes. “Oh, so now she can curse?”

You hated him for seeing the real you. You hated him for knowing the truth. You hated yourself for loving him.

“Fuck you, Castellan,” Luke hummed before stepping even closer to you and placing a hand on your waist, leaning to whisper in your ear. “I’m sure you’d love to do that again, right?” Luke’s smell was taking all over your senses and making your knees go weak. He continued, “Because even if we do it in the darkness of the Forge… it is still two friends fake dating because your mother might be watching.”

You found the strength to press your hands against his chest and push him away, “Don’t talk to me ever again.”

You spent the rest of the day with your siblings and friends, too afraid to leave their side because you didn’t trust yourself. Because you knew that if you were left alone for a second—you’d run straight to him.

You sat next to Silena in the dining pavilion. Helped Katie and the Dyonisus cabin grow more strawberries by keeping them company. Walked with Michael to the bonfire, and stayed with Drew throughout the entire singalong.

As always, Luke was sitting by himself, his MP3 player in his hand and his eyes were set on you.

You walked back to your cabin when the singalong was over and helped your siblings get ready for bed. You were about to go to sleep when Valentina whispered your name, saying she had something for you.

“We found it last night under your bed, Drew wanted to give it to the harpies but I managed to take it away from her,” a frown made its way to your face.”What do you mean?”

“We found this,” She pulled out a badly wrapped gift from under her pillows. You were confused until she told you to open it.

It was a bright pink MP3 player.

“Oh,” you whispered, your hands shook as you stared at it. “I’ve got to—”

“It’s okay,” Valentina whispered. “He’s probably by the lake.”

You gave your half-sister a hug before running out of your cabin, and making your way to the lake. You could see Luke’s silhouette in the distance, and the sight only made you run faster.

You took a moment to catch your breath before saying, “The Smashing Pumpkins?”

Luke turned around at the sound of your voice. “Blink-182” he answered with a small smirk.

“Uh, of course,” you said as you walked closer to him. “Alright, listen. You were right.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you continued with a smile. “So, it turns out I may or may not be in love with this certain guy, and he may or may not be my type or whatever it is my siblings say.”

Luke took a step closer to you. “There’s a chance this guy thinks I’m going through a phase and only fake dated him to piss off my siblings and mother but the truth is… I don’t even care about them whenever I’m with him.”

His hand moved to caress your cheek, “That’s cute and all but how does this guy know you truly mean that?”

“I’m not going to make out with him at the bonfire, so I guess all he needs to do is believe me,” you whispered, your eyes moving from Luke’s eyes to his lips.

Luke smiled before answering, “Believe you? That’s alright with me,” and pressing his lips to yours.

Luke was right. Aphrodite would be proud.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan #percy jackson and the olympians #magnolia’s fics!

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just-a-ghost00 · 1 month

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How can you improve ?

This PAC is meant to provide you with general advice to help you improve and move forward on your path. This is going to be a very simple reading, with only two cards for each group.

Group 1 - 8 of wands & Justice

You need to combine your creative power drive with careful execution. Your ideas and desires are worth exploring but you should proceed strategically. Act before any little hint of doubt can slither in your mind and stop you from moving forward. Don’t give yourself the time to hesitate but don’t be careless about it either. This is a difficult thing to do but if you manage to get into action at the precise point where you’ve thought about it enough without overthinking it, then you’ll be good to go. The second thing I am picking up on is communication. It is important that you clearly communicate your boundaries. Without exception. No matter who is standing in front of you. No matter how good they were to you. If someone crosses a boundary, it is mandatory that you call them out. No one gets a free pass, you deserve to be respected no matter what. You are no doormat, no punching ball nor a stress ball. You are a loveable human being and you should be treated as such.

Group 2 - 2 of cups, The Devil

Having the devil as an advice card feels a bit counter intuitive 😂 Combined with the 2 of cups, on top of that. To me, in this case, this represents sensuality and pleasure. Your key to improving is to allow yourself to indulge in whatever guilty pleasure you have. Want to eat that cupcake ? Go for it. Thinking about going on a vacation ? Fly as soon as you get the chance. You’ve been running in circles wondering if you should send that love confession? Don’t think twice. Allow yourself to be happy. Allow yourself to exist. You deserve to live. You deserve to take up space. You are allowed to laugh. You are allowed to have fun. You are allowed to love and be loved. It is not a sin to do what you like because you want it. It is not forbidden to let your guard down and just allow yourself to be. You are enough. Be in that receptive energy. Go with the flow and take things as they go, one step at a time. Slow down. Enjoy your life. Find your rhythm. Find your joy. Explore. Connect with people. Form partnerships. Do not deprive yourself of something out of guilt. You can never regret doing what you love.

Group 3 - 7 of wands, Hierophant

As the 7 of wands represents competition among other things and the Hierophant maturity, I feel like the first piece of advice is to be the bigger person. If anyone is coming at you with a bad vibe, do not even bother answering back. Don’t give them a taste of their own medicine, no matter how tempting that may sound. Believe me you won’t be feeling any better afterwards. The true victory lies in being able to tame your demons. The second piece of advice is to not give up on learning. If you’re a student, keep going and don’t give up on your education right now. If you wanted to learn a new skill but you feel like that would be too hard for you, don’t let that stop you. Keep pushing. Keep fighting for your goals and dreams. Seek for knowledge in everything and everyone. Take any opportunity presented to you as a lesson that will only make you wiser and richer. Don’t take things personally. See the bigger picture. Notice the patterns. Read between the lines. Don’t let yourself be fooled by appearances and look for the finer details. I’ll give you an example by using my own personal experience. My father was acting a bit oddly lately. He kept criticizing me every time I was doing something that I found enjoyable. At first, my reaction was to feel offended and it made me angry so I would be acting aloof as well. But then one morning I just sat for a minute or two after one more episode like this happened and I realized that the implicit message was that he was feeling sad and lonely, and the reason why he was acting that way was because he envied what I had and wanted to be a part of it. He envied the fact that despite not feeling very good myself, I was still able to do fun things and enjoy myself while he thought he couldn’t. Now if you look at that from an external point of view, you would say that had he allowed himself to do the same, he would have felt better. Which I would agree with. But being caught up in his mental fog, he didn’t realize that and instead thought that nagging at me would get me to pay him more attention when it generated the complete opposite.

#just-a-ghost #pick a card #pac reading #spiritual pac #tarot reading

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angelickisscs · 2 months

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poolside autographs ~ jude bellingham series (ongoing)

‧₊˚ ୨ ୧ ˚₊ masterlist ~ forgotten paradise (part 1)

summary: Two hearts once intertwined find one another during a family holiday but will the ever-growing distance that they set continue to grow or will one arise to the challenge that is keeping them together?

authors note ~ this is way too long to proofread ngl so i am very sorry if there are any mistakes 😭😭

THE GOLDEN SUN shone brightly in the crisp summer sky as it casted its warmth across your bare shoulders in a gentle, comforting breath. A cerulean blue washed against the vast canvas above, puffs of clouds slowly disappearing inwards.

“And we can take a nice, deep breath.” Your dad announced as though it were an achievement to even make it to the resort, his body rising and falling rhythmically.

You stood and watched him as the bag you had packed earlier that morning weighed down your arm. It reprimanded you harshly, allowing you no breaks between the minutes that you had already been holding it.

“Dad, can we just go inside?” Your brother asked, his voice the living embodiment of boring. In response, your dad could only laugh. He beckoned you all forward, leading the way towards the vast glass doors that stood only a mere two feet away.

They opened hastily, letting out a small ring as you all entered through them. The cooling air-con that sat strategically placed above the door hit you in the face, sliding down throughout the rest of your body.

The lobby was mostly empty despite the number of plants that were growing throughout. It was a battle to lead your uncooperative suitcase past them. Somehow, it always managed to end up gripped to a vase or pot that held the greenery, refusing to let go as though the two objects had managed to befriend one another in a matter of seconds.

Your family allowed you to struggle, each wandering up to the desk in front so they could gather the room cards. A brief conversation with the receptionist about how ‘wonderfully beautiful’ the resort was, allowed you to catch up to them in time to politely take yours from the unfortunate woman.

She had managed to strike up the more talkative side of your father. The conversation ranged from the beginning sentence to surrounding activities to undoable work hours. Your mother seemed to have enough as she excused him from the conversation, slowly but surely dragging him away by his closest shoulder.

“How many ‘friends’ do you think he’s going to make on this trip?” Your brother, Oliver, asked with a cheeky grin coating his lips. “I’ll bet you a fiver it’ll be four.”

“Four? I’ll go with seven.” You responded as you stepped into the lift, sneakily shaking one another’s hands in an abrupt agreement to the bet you had just made.

Your mum leaned back from where she was standing so her head could land up in between the pair of you.

“Too high. Bound to only be two.”

Her voice could hardly consider itself as a whisper, its noise level exceeding the limit as to how loud it could be. Though your dad’s humming to the music that surrounded the death-trap of a mechanism seemed to be able to drown it out enough.

You scoffed in response. She had a history of underestimating her own husband in these kinds of circumstances and you could only hope that this would be another instance to add to the failure of a streak.

With a ping, you were all ushered out of the lift. There was a very brief conversation on where you all would next meet, Oliver’s hurry to get into his room being the main reason for that. Your dad did not want you roaming around an unfamiliar environment by yourself, no matter how peaceful it was, so you instead opted to meet back outside the lift.

It was a stronger relief than you had expected when you had finally pushed the keycard against the slot in the door, pushing the door open with your free shoulder. You abandoned your carry on and suitcase in an instance, banishing them to the corner of the room. The comfiness of the bed was loudly calling your name and you weren’t one to ignore someone nor something so in need of your approval.

You allowed yourself few moments of rest to gather whatever energy you had left over. There was not a multitude of it, but it would have to do. Kicking your legs into the air, you threw yourself upwards into a standing position so you could approach your suitcase, making the silly decision to unpack later when you came upstairs to get ready for dinner.

A bikini lead folded neatly atop of multiple towels, its burgundy colouring having to do for now. You quickly removed the clothes you had worn during the flight, replacing them with said bikini and a coverup just in time to answer the sound of a fist pounding against the unfortunate slab of wood that was your door.

“Hurry up then!” Said Oliver when you had made it to your door, his impatient eyes following you as you scrambled to collect everything you may need for those hours around the pool.

Your parents were both ready, dressed in a matching colour of swimwear, the same pair of sunglasses resting atop of their heads. They had managed to time the arrival of the lift perfectly, leaving no more waiting for your brother and you than necessary.

Everyone stayed slightly throughout the short ride. There was no reason for any form of conversation, each saving that for later in the day when the need placed itself in front of you.

Unsurprisingly, the lift had not lengthened its short arrival on the ground floor. You were the first to exit, a game of follow the leader ensuing so you could arrive at the poolside in one piece.

The foreign sun was soon to introduce itself to your skin, the heat that radiated off it being unlike any that you had previously felt. It snaked through your coverup, surpassing any defence that your sunscreen had placed, with ease. You all chose a row of five with your mother on the farthest end so she could be next to you.

Your dad was the one who lost the coin-toss, swiftly forced to collect you each a drink. Though, Oliver opted out of having one instead b-lining straight towards the pool just like he did when he was only eight years younger.

A certain peace encapsulated all of you, the sound of laughter carrying from the families around as the wind passed through all of them, dancing within the palm trees that sat firmly in their allocated areas.

“Well, that’s number one.” Your mum commented, turning her head just in time to catch your confused eyes so she could point to what she was referring too.

You laughed lightly at the sight that met you, your social dad already managing to abandon his prior mission and instead talking to a man he had sat next to at the open bar.

“Only one more to go for you then.” You reminded her before shuffling around slightly to get more comfortable.

She sighed lightly at what you said, “Is it too late to change my bet?”

You didn’t bother to use your words but rather to just slowly nod. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could make out her lightly hitting her leg in a makeshift punishment.

Whispering to herself, your mother lead back down on the sun lounger, feigning a disinterest at what was happening around her. She had pushed her sunglasses up over her eyes, the black coating making it so you could not see where she was looking, no matter how close you were to her.

There was an interest as to what she had managed to notice now so you began your own investigation. Dragging your eyes across the pool area to look for the suspect that had caught her attention, you questioning did not linger for a long time. A familiar set of brunette hair emerged out of the pool, his previously worn cap in hand.

He approached you with swift and sure movements, “I need you to protect this with your life.”

Your mother, who had become attuned to his antics, took the cap from his hands, placing it at her side. Oliver threw her a thumbs up before he went back to whatever he was doing beforehand.

The time passed by quickly, your body succumbing to exhaustion not soon after your brothers confusing request. Your mum had not fully given up when she woke you up, trying to ask you once again what she had prior to catch you out but it wasn’t anything she hadn’t tried before.

She had collected each of you one by one, your dad being the first victim and you the last. Both the men in your small group had become surprisingly hungry during the activities they had decided to do. It left you to realise you had never received that diet coke you had requested, leaving a slight resentment in your dry mouth.

“Have fun with your friend?” Your mum asked her husband, leaving a suggestion for him to add his name into the last slot of the sentence.

“Mark.” Your dad corrected, placing an arm over her shoulder. “And yes, he is genuinely nice. He has two kids as well, same age and everything.”

The doors once again opened with a loud ping, allowing everyone to leave with slow and light steps, the heat draining whatever you all had left.

You each excused yourselves to your rooms, a time limit still managing to be set at how long you had to get ready. Shaking your head as you unlocked your door, gathering your shower supplies from your suitcases before heading straight for the bathroom. You stripped off out of your bikini, making sure to throw your freshly washed hair into a bun as you turned the water onto cold, allowing it to fall over your body and wake you up slightly.

It was only a brief shower, doing all the necessary hygiene routines before reaching out to turn off the shower and grab a towel.

Having made the silly decision not to unpack earlier on, a mess slowly gathered in your room as you attempted to neatly sift through to find an acceptable outfit. It conveniently led at the very bottom of the suitcase; a strategy you had previously used that had ended up not going in your favour despite your efforts for it too. You had a longer than average history of being a bad packer that overestimated the amount of energy you would have upon arriving at your location. An unideal duo.

You sat at your desk chair with your outfit on, a small beauty blender in hand as you applied the concealer in the necessary places. There wasn’t a need to do makeup at once due to the one easy activity that you were doing so you chose to keep it light and easy.

For once, you seemed to get your time keeping in check. No one had come banging on your door by the time you were ready, leaving you to dawdle as you went through your bag to check you needed anything.

Your brother leant against the wall beside your room when you exited, phone in hand.

“This holiday is awesome. I met my idol today.” He whispered to you when he noticed your presence.

“Oh yeah? Did you fangirl?” You asked with a mischievous tone that was meant to mock him, but he was too much of a way through cloud nine to have the ability to notice that.

Oliver moved his head from side to side, deciding on his answer. “Slightly. Didn’t recognise him at first but when I did, I built up the courage to talk to him and it was great. Played a bit of water-polo with them and everything.”

“Is that the Alexander guy?”

His face dropped at your words, not one attempt to hide the strong snarl on his face succeeding, “Alexander guy? Seriously?”

“I don’t know football.” You defended with a shoulder raise leaving him to roll his eyes.

“No. It was someone else you wouldn’t know.” Oliver corrected. “We can count mum out of the bet, right?”

He fiddled around with putting his phone away in his pocket as he spoke, lowering his tone at the small chance that you dad had decided on hiding out to scare the pair of you.

“Of course.” You responded with an ‘obviously’ look which this time he had managed to notice though you did lay it on thicker than what you would usually prefer to do.

Oliver was about to give you a rude response when your parents called the both of you over, blissfully ignorant as to whatever was going on. They pressed the button to wait for the lift, striking up a conversation as to what might be best to do tomorrow.

The restaurant was a larger walk away than you all had anticipated when you had finally gotten downstairs. You walked what felt like all the hotel’s property before you finally arrived at the desired location. The sound of multiple conversations happening at one echoing throughout your ears. Though it was beginning to step back from its leading position, the sun’s heat lingered throughout the air, latching to your bare flesh as you walked through it in attempt to find a free table. The artificial light waved towards you, reflecting off every window that you passed, its brightness making you feel as though you would need sunglasses to get through this dinner.

A table of six was clear in front of you, allowing you to get off your feet, the pain beginning to get worse the more you walked. Despite being busy, the restaurant was yet to be full to its capacity, though the way people scattered themselves all over the place gave the image that it was.

Taking your seats, everyone picked up their own menu, decisively dragging their eyes across the busy piece of laminated paper. Discussions ensued about if anyone would be willing to share anything, everyone taking turns to list out their options. Your mum and you decided upon getting a sharing platter, neither of you particularly hungry.

The waiter soon made his rounds to your table, politely introducing himself being writing down your orders in his black, tarnished notepad.

Steady conversation ensued for the rest of the night, someone always having an opinion to share or a new topic to branch of off.

It was dark by the time you left on full stomachs; the majority of the restaurant’s guests having emptied out as well. The walkway lit with more soothing lighting, the yellow tone inciting tranquillity as birds sung their final song of the day.

Heels moved in harmony with one another, whispered conversations shared between one another as you all walked.

“Mark invited us to join him for a couple drinks at the pool, who feels like coming?” Your dad offered up, a chorus of agreement coming from the rest of your family. It wasn’t ideal for you to be doing this but since everyone else had already decided upon going, you left yourself with no choice but to go.

You allowed him to show you the way around once everyone had got going again. Your strides were steady, passing people with a friendly smile as you began to approach the pool once again. It was completely empty, towels still lead on sun loungers, most simply thrown on top and others folded.

The moon shone brightly, the almost full appearance it boasted being far too beautiful to not take a second to appreciate. A gentle wind still blew past your shoulders, forcing the heat that claimed its position in the air, into your already boiling body.

Flowers surrounded the edge of the resort in unity, insignificant amounts beginning to bloom and other having reached their time but all managing to stay equally as beautiful. Healthy grass filled every gap needed, helping to make the walkway look fuller.

Each one of you expressed your confusion as to where this supposed planned meet up was taking place though a short walk soon answered your silent questioning.

Music spilled out from speakers that positioned themselves perfectly around the bar to cause the least disturbance. Table came in few though most came empty. Instead, people gathered around the barrels that had barstools pushed up against them. Most opted not to use the provided branded coasters, their cold pints of beer placed rebelliously against the wooden top.

“There you are!” The man that was supposedly Mark walked up to your dad, a fist-bump taking place between the pair. “Thought you might have opted out of coming.”

“Never mate. I don’t turn down an enjoyable time.” Your dad laughed along with him. “This is the family.”

He introduced you all one by one, pointing to make it certain as to who he was talking about. You waved when it was your turn to, a small smile formed of regret making its way onto your face.

“Nice to meet you all.” Mark said, turning his body over to where his wife and sons sat. Or at least that’s what he said, your vision unable to do its only job due to your mum standing directly in front of you.

Not that you minded, the quicker you could get out of there the better.

There was no other chance given, however. Your mothers firm grip that enclosed your wrist always keeping you right by her side. She had dragged you over to the table before you could count to ten to complete the first deep breath you were having to take.

Your brother and his newly made friend recognised one another in an instance, taking themselves elsewhere to your and his mum’s displeasure. They called out a demand of ‘staying close’ though it was to no usage, the effort to do that wasting itself within a matter of seconds.

That seemed to make you mum far more hyperaware of your presence, her hand that held your wrist dragging you down into the seat next to her as everyone got acquainted.

“Sweetheart, do you want anything to drink?” Your dad asked you, taking a break from his walking away. Mark was steps ahead, not realising your fathers lack of presence.

You shook your head, “I’m not going to stay long so no thank you.”

Feeling your mums’ eyes linger on you in question, you turned to look at Denise. Her and your mum were partway through a conversation, your parent’s ability to be social being a skill you had not inherited nor developed.

“My Jude was just the same but if you look at him now, you would never be able to tell.” Denise stated, her hands moving around everywhere to emphasise her unknown point.

The singular usage of his name was enough for you heart to begin working harder, oxygen catching itself inside of your throat. It was a conditioned response that you had picked up many months ago, but it was hard not to feel silly at the mere coincidence that managed to weasel itself to directly in your eyeline.

“Sorry, forgive me. Is that your oldest?” Your mum questioned, familiarising herself with the bloodline of this new family.

Denise cracked a smile, “Yes. He should be here any minute now, he just had to take a call.”

Words seemed to blur around the edge of your consciousness for the minutes that passed, none of your interest managing to fixate onto the new topic the conversation had taken on.

Yet again, your father was yet to make a return. Though when you heard a loud roar travel through the crowd, it seemed to follow with hours before in the fact that it was no surprise. He had managed to find a television with the latest rugby match on and there was no method of drawing him away from it that any of your family had learned.

“Sorry about that. Oh.”

That voice. That same voice that was so deeply connected to the name.

No choices other than paralysing any movement your body could make could be handed to you, your eyes not daring to look up from their decided position whilst your arms seized with every muscle grabbing a hold of their closest friend.

It was an indescribable feeling that injected itself into your icy veins. One that you had never been subjected to. Your body seemed to become unfamiliar with the very organs that had been inside of you your whole life, disconnecting your brain from everything it could.

“Ah, Jude! There you are.” Denice began, the sound of wood creaking crawling throughout the bones that sat in your body. “This is Debbie and her daughter y/n.”

There wasn’t anything to shock you more that the fact that months of demanding work to just move on from him and his featherlight touch could undo itself with such little effort. A quick release knot that hadn’t even been pulled on before it began unravelling.

A short jab to the flesh that sat on the arm to your right brought you out of the tsunami wreaking havoc onto your mind.

“Nice to meet you.” He had a small voice crack, clearing it with a short cough of his throat. “Both.”

Looking up through the hoods of your eyelids, the skin around your nail falling victim to your painful habit, you mustered a miniature lifting of the sides of your lips to seem polite enough.

His eyes firmly watched you, for once not a care in the world as to who could possibly see.

The final word he spoke encouraged itself to hold the power of erasing your history, at least to your families. The same ones that both of you had sworn to meet countless times. Though, unfortunately for Jude, nothing nor no one, not even him, could ever deal with the weight of magically pushing away the indifference that lingered heavily between the pair of you.

Re-finding your words, you pushed yourself up from the chair that you sat him, your eyeline cutting out the man that stood on the side of the table.

“I’m going to head up.”

A panic set through Jude. That very same emotion bearing the power of his next actions. He could offer to walk you up to your room, he wanted to offer that. The words failed at exiting out of his throat, claiming a form of stage fright had developed.

He watched helplessly as everyone but him bid you a goodnight. His skin that concealed him so heavily began to heat up, his eyes being the only part of him that claimed its freedom.

They continued to trail you as you walked down towards the resort though his legs refused to cooperate.

“Are you sitting down?” Denise looked at her son suspiciously, her lips forming a strict straight line.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry.”

#୨୧ angelickisscs ࿐#footballer imagine #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham story #jude bellingham series

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quincywillows · 1 year

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like i remember the vitriol that came out when the mere PREMISE for ballad of songbirds and snakes came out bc it was “about the villain” and wasn’t instead a novella of one of the many cute likeable faves of the masses. i remember how fast people were to tear down the book before it even came out (and still do now). and it’s like look, i get it, suzanne created so many interesting characters that it would be incredible to learn more about and get more content for. but her choosing to write about snow for a prequel isn’t like Romanticizing The Villain or whatever bullshit y’all are claiming as hot takes on twitter -- ballad fits right into the common themes and tone of the series in that its not a romanticization but a reflection on how snow became what we know him as in the original series. both in how he already had some less than charming or healthy traits (just like katniss does -- suzanne is always clear that people are not inherently good nor evil and parallels were drawn between how snow and katniss view the world and think strategically, etc, from the second book), but also in how society and the choices of the greater community in panem created snow. like ballad is a really interesting piece of lore and history and worldbuilding for an already rich and elaborate setting that suzanne created, allowing us to see how that world even came to be and the kind of toxic impact it had on the people surviving in it while still pointing out that those people are human and that everyone has humanity and yet can still cause unfathomable harm to one another based on circumstance and need to survive and pressures of all kinds and like i have lost the plot here now but suzanne is one of the best authors of our time who actually gives a shit about creating layered, nuanced characters and worlds rather than black and white good and evil and unfortunately the hyperpolarization of our hot takes social media culture nowadays just can’t handle her anymore. suzanne im so sorry we don’t deserve your storytelling. anyway i’ll be seated for this movie y’all can skip and keep giving lukewarm takes on twitter to make urself seem so smart for hating a book you probably didnt even actually read

#suzanne collins is one of the only mainstream authors these days who clearly writes for purpose rather than profit #and puts thought into her writing always 100% of the time. but we as a regressing online society are not ready for her anymore #people are so scared of nuance in their media its incredible (derogatory)#the hunger games #ballad of songbirds and snakes #maggie.txt #fandom crit #to the people who are actually looking forward to this film + enjoyed the book i respect YOU

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thatsdemko · 1 year

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papa carlos - c.sainz

pairings: dad!carlos sainz x mom!reader

warnings: established relationship + kid has been given a name

a/n: my little heart needs this rn! also feedback is always appreciated xx

she’s sound asleep beside you on the couch. you promised your baby girl, Sofia, she could stay up until her fathers arrival home, but the minute she got comfortable under the blankets, she was out.

piñon’s head rests on her stomach, two of them in a blissful sleeping state, you envy it a little. wishing you weren’t awake right now, rather asleep in your bed in your husbands arms. alas, you’re on the couch watching his location grow closer and closer to home.

it’s not long until you give into the heaviness of your eyelids. you close them allowing slumber to take over, and when he enters the home and no one is there to greet him, he can only figure you’re asleep.

he sees the glow from the television indicating you’re in the living room still awake. he tsk’s you for not just going to bed, he never understood why you stayed awake for him.

when he enters the living room he sees all three of you asleep. Sofia’s head is rested on your chest, piñon is visibly dreaming, head on Sofia’s stomach, and your eyelids are rapidly moving. the day washes away from him when he sees you three, any worries or anger gets taken over by pure happiness.

he finds the remote tangled up in the blankets, he’s careful to not wake anyone, but piñon gets a whiff of his, second, favorite humans scent, the dogs tail wags but Carlos quickly shushes him with a kiss before the television screen turns black.

he finds an extra blanket and makes sure to toss it over your body, he knows how cold you get in your sleep. he knows the tiny princess blanket you’re wrapped in won’t be enough when you finally wake up. he makes sure to press a kiss to everyone’s forehead before moving into the kitchen to check for anything that needs tidying.

you stir to the sound of his strategic footsteps, you can hear him hissing at his squeaky shoes that you know he’s already taken off. you want to get up and greet him, ask about his day, but the tiredness of your own life seems to win as your eyelids shut once more.

Sofia awakes to the sound of the back door opening and the jingles of piñons collar. she gets up from the blankets, little legs carrying her to the kitchen where her father sits hovered over a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

“daddy!” she whisper yells, she’s aware you’re still asleep but she’s so excited to see he’s, finally, home. she rushes into his lap, tiny arms wrap around his neck.

“hola princesa,” he presses a kiss to her cheek, big brown loving eyes staring back at him, his heart feels so much love, it’s almost painful it might explode.

he brushes her messy brown hair from her face, tucking the strains behind her ear, “go back to sleep, okay? I’ll be there soon.” he sends her off with one final kiss and he watches her little legs carry her back to the living room where you’re still asleep.

she curls right back into the same spot, and when piñon is finally let back inside, he heads for the couch, head resting on Sofia’s stomach once again.

carlos readies himself for bed. he makes sure to grab Sofia’s favorite stuffed animal on his way to the couch, and he tucks it in her arms watching her sleepy smile grow at the familiar touch of the animal.

he grabs the last available blanket on the couch, he’s on the opposite end of you. you feel his leg move in between your slightly parted legs. when you open your eyes you see he’s sound asleep and Sofia has now moved from next to you, to sleeping on her fathers chest.

the two of their chests rise and fall in synchronization, you can’t help but smile before sleep takes over you once again, eyes falling heavy in content of your beautiful family.

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biteofcherry · 1 year

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Make the dust fly

dark!Steve Rogers x female reader; dark!Captain Rogers x fairy reader

Author’s Note: This is a dark retelling (with a wicked twist) of a Peter Pan fairytale, for @boxofbonesfic “Once Upon A Time” challenge and 10k milesestone celebration - once again, congratulations!

summary: You’ve always been loyal to Peter and to his group of rascals, fierce in the way you protect them. So when the bloodthirsty Captain Rogers is close to catching your friends, your fairy heart bursts with courage and you place yourself between them. Little did you know that Captain was never after Peter. It was always about you…

warnings: dark!Steve Rogers; dub-con (bordering on non-con); captivity; stocks/pillory; spanking; size kink; forced orgasm; explicit sexual content; mentions of drug use;

Reader is a fairy, Peter’s sassy Tinkerbell, but in my take on this universe fairies aren’t that tiny tiny. They’re “regular size”, but definitely smaller than Captain Rogers.

Also, there’s a light hint at WS!Steve, regarding his prosthetic (after all, he’s serving as Captain Hook in this).

word count: 5.8k

Though the sun spilled through the half-broken window of the old sanctuary, the splashes of colors softening the stone floors where stained glass-work cast its reflection, the soothing atmosphere was dispersing.

Fear and charging darkness chased you through the corridors as the pirates’ trap closed in on you.

How did they even find this place? It was an abandoned little playground which you found a few months ago and to which you brought Peter and the boys, Wanda too. Her stories gained a new dimension of life when told here.

It should be safe! So far from the seas and rocky beaches where the pirates often lurked. Far from the lush green forests, which Captain seemed to roam alone with ease, as if he wasn’t a bastard limited to the seas, but a nomad who found his place anywhere he wished. Anywhere his power allowed him.

And he had power in bulks.

Elders of your fairy clan have spoken of him with fear. You always thought it to be because of his ruthless mastery over the seas and the merciless determination with which he hunted Peter.

Somehow, he found Peter even here, so deep into the land it felt impossible to meet him and his crew here. But the warning came crisp and clear as MJ ran inside the sanctuary, breathless and panicked, yelling about pirates securing nets outside and preparing to storm in.

Nets so they could trap all of you, even if your dust gave your friends the ability to fly.

“Go, Peter!” You hissed at him, handing him a small pouch with gathered fairy dust.

“Take Wanda and leave through that tunnel we found last week!” You urged them. “Once outside, you’ll be able to fly off. They won’t be able to set up nets over a cliff!”

“Come with us.” Peter caught your wrist. “We can all fly.”

You shook your head, yanking your hand from Peter’s grip. That spontaneous escape would work on most, but not on Captain Rogers.

As rash and reckless many men were, he was a brilliantly strategic son of a bitch. The fact he somehow found you here, was able to build up a quick trap, spoke of how dangerous it was to underestimate him.

Somehow- someone had to play decoy, so the others could save themselves.

You knew Peter managed to get free in the past, always so creative in improvising and audacious enough to follow through with quite crazy plans, but this time it felt more dire. Your instinct told you it was no playful risk, but could be the end to all ends.

Captain Rogers wanted Peter, you were merely an annoyance he’d wave off like a fly.

“Go! Go now!” You pushed Peter toward the secret exit. “I’ll meet you later.” You vowed, determined to squirm your way out of the pirate’s grasp.

When the group started squeezing into the tunnel, you took a deep breath and fluttered your wings out. You flew up to one of the partially broken windows and peeked over the red stained glass that used to be a part of a rose.

Hook’s crew was indeed outside, in a formation that looked threatening and discouraging to any rebellion. Well, it made your rebellious streak flare. After all, fairies weren’t known for mellow, compliant behavior. You certainly weren’t that kind of a fairy. Nor that kind of woman.

Hook. You shook your head as you thought of a rather cruel nickname the boys gave Captain Rogers.

He lost his arm - there were various tales regarding the circumstances behind that. Some included a ridiculous brawl with a crocodile; another a power hungry demi god from the outerworld who turned into an alligator; other stories were about wars in far lands after which Rogers’ body washed up on the shores nearby, already lacking an arm.

Whatever the truth was, each tale had a significant truth to it which your friends liked to omit - Rogers survived. Perhaps even won.

It should keep you all scared, not underestimate him as a pathetic, crazy pirate with a prosthetic.

There was a hook attached to his prosthetic many years ago, but it was long gone, replaced with a functioning metal arm whose endurance and strength matched Rogers’ general power.

Still, Peter and the boys snickered at the Hook nickname.

Most of the time you called him Rogers or Captain Rogers, only when you were truly pissed, or scared of losing your friends, did you call him Hook; and many other degrading names.

He stood there, so close to the entrance. His head was slightly bowed as he talked to a man beside him. Sun streaks seemed to catch in his blond hair, his features bathed in warm glow. It annoyed you that someone so ruthless and despicable dared to look so beautiful, so stunning. Light and magic of the world were for fairies like you, to shimmer in your nearly translucent wings and burst full of color as you shed dust. It shouldn’t caress a man like Captain Rogers, making him appear innocent-like.

No, he was not innocent.

He was a bottomless pit of darkness and all things wicked, only luring with his handsome veneer. Like those flowers Tiger Lily once showed you - they were so lush and aromatic, but when an insect touched their petals they’d trap it inside and feed on it.

Not only because Rogers had this sick obsession with Peter, trying to hunt him down, but there were other instances that turned your blood cold.

He kidnapped three mermaid younglings, taking them far away over the seas and selling them as an attraction, or maybe as pets. He spread bodies of his enemies on the rocky shore, arranging their corpses in wooden galways, leaving them for animals to feed on.

There was a tale of Echo, one of the Tribe’s people, who disappeared unexpectedly. Rumors of her fate laid at Captain Rogers’ feet. Yet there was no gossip of her potential whereabouts. And the Tribe, for some unknown reason, still occasionally traded with the pirates.

Rage at his conscienceless acts made you itch for your daggers. Though you probably couldn’t hit him from a distance.

So you flew up slightly higher, to get a better look at the siege, seek a hole through which you could escape and show them the middle finger.

At that moment Captain turned his head and looked up, as if he sensed he was being watched. His gaze zeroed in on you.

Stupidly, really, but you stuck out your tongue at him when your eyes met.

Rogers cocked his head to the side, his gaze slid from you to the building then back up. He was assessing something, calculating. Suddenly he turned on his heel and marched straight inside.

Heart jumping to your throat in fear, you flew down.

It dawned on you that he had to be considering where your group may hide within the sanctuary’s corridors, but your little peek gave him the answer right away. It meant he was aiming straight to your place of hiding.

Which was good, you reminded yourself. It drew attention away from Peter and Wanda and the rest. You had to stand your ground.

You couldn’t just fly around like a butterfly anyway, since a few months ago it turned out that pirates have shipped in some new kind of weapon that splutters rapid fire at any object in motion. It would hit you at some point, even if you’d manage to dodge most of the shots.

Taking Rogers on in a fight was a task near impossible, but you were fast, agile and quite good with your daggers in close distance. Maybe you’d be able to surprise him with a nick, or two, and use the distraction to escape. The tunnel Peter and the rest went through was so narrow that Captain’s broad, large frame would never fit through it.

You drew out your daggers, clenching your fingers around the ornately carved wood, as you heard booming steps approaching. Captain Rogers barged in, his pace slowing as he entered the chamber fully.

A small group of his pirates followed, but when they realized there’s no one beside you inside, they stopped in their tracks.

You felt a surge of victory. You tilted your chin up defiantly, a smirk curving your lips as you threw Captain a challenging look.

“Peter’s not here.” You called out, triumphantly. “You’re not gonna get him, old man.”

It was an overused jab that had more spunk when Peter yelled it. His youth could rub it in for a man of Rogers’ age (truthfully, you did not know his actual age, but he was at least twice the age of Peter and Wanda).

You? Fairies aged differently. You may as well be his age, if not older.

Captain Rogers didn’t seem enraged at your challenge. A muscle in his jaw twitched, but his face remained impassive as he stared you down.

He motioned at his people to stand down behind then slowly drew out his sword. The sound of a sharp blade leaving its sheath pierced the silence that fell over the sanctuary.

Your fists clenched, the hilt of your dagger digging painfully into your delicate skin. You drew your wings together and rested them against your back to gain more momentum as you charged at him.

You were fast and sneaky, easily avoiding Captain’s first cuts. Unfortunately for you, his large size wasn’t an obstacle to his agility. You learned it quickly as his moves sped up and he matched you in your rapid twists. His bulky frame was surprisingly graceful in a fight.

With a snarl, you managed to cut his shoulder, dark shirt parting where your blade nicked it. Blood soaked that spot, but the Captain didn’t even hiss, nor did he falter in his steps.

He attacked you with ferocity, though you didn’t notice that each of his moves was to disable you rather than kill you. Too immersed in your own rage, you slashed like a caged animal while he remained a sophisticated predator toying with his food.

You twisted around, swaying your arm in a half circle in an attempt to slice his other arm. A sudden pain in your wings pulled you backward. He caught your wings in his metal fingers, delicate filaments nearly crushing under the pressure. With a yelp, you bowed your back to lessen the tugging pain, flailing your arms around to lash at anyone who dared to approach.

Captain Rogers hit your fist with the broad side of his sword, the strength behind it hard enough to make your fingers seize in pain. You dropped the dagger. Before it clattered to the floor, he did the same to your other hand, leaving you weaponless.

Another tug at your wings pulled you backwards to him, then his hand caught one of your wrists, wrenching your arm behind your back.

He had you locked, your side pinned to him as he forced your back to bow further, your face tilting up to him as you did.

Striking blue eyes, reminding you of the electric clear sky after stormy clouds disperse, stared down at you. A cold victory shimmered in his irises.

“I don’t care about getting Peter, little sprite.” Captain’s deep, velvety voice resounded over the rapid fluttering of your heart.

“It was always about you.”

His dark chuckle caused your heart to stop, dread swallowing you in a cold wave.

You never expected to become a part of his sinister plans; your mind filled with horrifying images of being shipped away to unknown lands, sold like a piece of meat, or forced into labor to survive. You were ready to die, if it meant saving your friends, but you never considered a worse fate awaiting.

One of the Captain's crewmen brought a set of shackles, which they locked around your hands. Usually you were able to get out of any regular cuffs, but these seemed to be tailored for a fairy’s slimmer wrists. Attached to it was a heavy chain, the end of which Captain Rogers wrapped around his metal hand.

“You can walk, or you can fly, I don’t care.” He said to you, yanking on the chain and forcing you to stumble into his chest.

With his other hand he gripped a fistful of your hair and loomed over you.

“But you will follow me, sprite. Or another chain will go around your neck and I’ll drag you by it all the way to my ship.”

He led you out of the sanctuary, your feet scurrying after his big strides. Once outside, you spread your wings, helping yourself catch up to Captain’s pace by floating in the air. A small group of his pirates joined you, trading beside and behind. The rest stayed to take down the nets and pack everything.

It really seemed that Captain got exactly what he wanted and you had no idea why it was you.

You looked for any familiar faces that might lurk in the thickness of the jungle, or hide behind rocks, as the pirates led you to the beach where the boats awaited. Anyone, who could carry the news of your capture to Peter, or to your fairy clan.

However, all forms of life seemed to scatter from the Captain’s path.

Perhaps it was the right thing to do. You should’ve abandoned your bold, fierce courage - or stupidity, really - and hide from him, like all reasonable creatures did.

As some of the elders of your clan sighed, you spent too much time joining Peter’s reckless adventures, forgetting your survival instinct.

At the shore, Captain brought you with him into one of the boats. Only two other pirates joined you, their task to row the boat toward the monstrous, black ship out in the open sea. Rogers made you sit down on the bottom of the boat, curled between his spread legs.

He ran a finger down the back of your neck and to where your wings grew out of your back. You hunched forward, then turned your head and glared at him. His mouth curved in a cocky smirk as he teased the outline of your shimmering wing.

You clenched your jaw and hung your head down, feigning pure anger to cover the hint of trembling.

Fairy’s wings were exceptionally sensitive to touch. The stroke of Captain’s fingers evoked a sensation contrary to pain or discomfort. That side of your wings, when teased, would cause your nipples to stiffen and a fire to bloom in your abdomen.

You would never let Hook know about that. He’d use it to humiliate you, or to think of an even worse fate for you. You were sure he had some depraved, disgusting buyers in the dark human offshores.

Once on the ship, the crew parted as Captain Rogers prowled toward his suite. Their eyes leering as they watched you trot behind him. You swallowed, but tilted your chin high. You even sent a glare at one or two of the pirates.

Your breath stuttered in your chest, your eyes growing big, when among the crew you noticed a dark haired woman. Tight braids adorned with beads and a pirate’s outfit on her body, but you recognized Echo. Or someone who looked so much like her. She sent you a dismissive look, as if she wasn’t bothered by your presence. She definitely didn’t seem to be in distress.

You had no time to wonder about Echo’s ties to the pirate crew, because Rogers opened the door to his cabin and pushed you inside. Heavy wood closed behind you with a booming finality.

The first thing you saw was a long table with maps, plans and navigating instruments. Books lined shelves on the sides. A few trinkets glinted in the dimmed darkness.

The cabin was separated in half by a heavy curtain. When Captain led you around the table toward it and parted the folds of the embroidered fabric, you froze on the spot.

That you’d see the private, sleeping part of his quarters was something you expected. But it was the thing beside his big bed, lined with layers of soft looking linens and silks, that made you stumble a step back.

A large, human sized birdcage hung beside the bed. Pillows fluffed atop its bottom didn’t change the fact it was a scary, humiliating prison. Undoubtedly made for you.

“I’d rather be tossed in the brick with other slaves you’re about to sell.” You gritted your teeth, yanking on the chain which Rogers’ held in his hand.

“Sell?” He approached you, a cruel smile on his pretty lips.

He traced a single finger along your cheek and you flinched away from his touch, despite how strangely soothing it felt for your rattled heart.

“Sprite, why would I sell something that can bring me regular profit rather than just a one time gain?” Captain chuckled.

Not the least discouraged by your body leaning away, he slid his hands down your arms. The fact his touch was gentle and not a forced manhandling, somehow made the disgust in you grow.

“See, I’m well aware that fairy dust gives more than just the ability to fly for a few minutes.” He opened your shackles, dropping them and the chain to the floor with a loud clunk. “Though, that in itself would sell greatly.”

He took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing tightly and forcing you to look him in the eye.

“I know that fairy dust gives an euphoric rush and enhances strength, speed, and senses. Even if the effect is short, it's a drug most sought after.”

You heard of it - of what your dust gave people. Peter and your friends gained from it, but for joy and freedom. Others wanted the power of it for more nefarious deeds. And, as it always was with people, they wanted more and more and more.

“I plan on reaping the benefits of selling it regularly. And you, little sprite, are my source.”

With a wicked grin, Rogers kissed you on the lips. A short, harsh thing. Then he pulled back, laughing at your stunned face.

It took you a second to regain your train of thought as your brain scrambled - both at his admission and the kiss. Ire rose, rebellion against aiding the damned pirate in any way bubbling hot like lava.

“Ha!” You scrunched your nose and crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m not shedding a single flake of dust for you, asshole. Keep me locked as long as you want, you’re not getting any.”

You expected a flash of anger. Hell, you wanted to annoy him! You wanted to push all his buttons, rip them free and stuff them down his throat so he chokes.

But he remained calm, amused even. Studied you with a head tilted to the side, corners of his mouth still lifted upward in a smile.

Then, in a split second, he had a hand behind your neck, fingers gripping tightly.

He dragged you across the room, toward a wooden pillory which you didn’t notice earlier. You growled out your protest, heels digging into the floor planks as you fought against Captain's grip. It was futile. He overpowered you easily.

With the help of his metal hand, he had you bending down. Your neck settled into a bigger half-moon in the middle of the pillory. He forced your hands to rest in the smaller circles. Then locked the upper part, trapping you in. A padlock clicked in place.

Your wings fluttered wildly, your feet lifting off the floor, but it changed nothing. He had you bound in an uncomfortable, humiliating position.

He crouched in front of you, blue eyes staring into yours with a dark glint.

“Ah, sprite. You underestimate me.” His smirk grew and a dreadful feeling settled deep in your gut.

“I knew you wouldn’t shed dust for me willingly. I also know that there is another instance when a fairy sprinkles it. Uncontrollably, I’d say.”

No! He couldn’t know that. Nobody did.

That was a secret of the fairies, shared with absolutely no one. You never told Peter or anyone else. You knew no other fairies would reveal it, no matter how strongly they trusted human friends.

Yet everything inside you sensed that the Captain spoke the truth. He knew the truth.

“I- I have no idea what you are talking about.” You huffed out, but you suspected your bluff was easily caught.

“Of course you do, sweet little sprite.” Rogers chuckled.

He straightened and slowly walked around you. He didn’t even reprimand you for struggling in the stockade, trying to somehow break the sturdy wood. He was this secured in his dominance over you.

There was a long, silent pause, heightening your trepidation since you were unable to see what he was doing behind you.

A big, warm hand rested right above your wings, then teasingly slowly dragged between them all the way to your ass. A brush along your wings was enough to send a faint zap of sensation to your core. Rogers flipped your green dress up, exposing your butt. He splayed his hand over one buttock, warming up your skin.

He pulled his hand away. A second later a loud smack resounded, evoking a burning sting and causing you to squeak.

His fingers spread over the spot, rubbing soothingly and turning the pain into pleasant throbbing. He draped himself over you as he looked down at your bowed head from above the pillory.

“A fairy sprinkles dust when they’re aroused.” Rogers recited the most intimate secret.

“Well, you don’t arouse me!” Your fingers clenched into fists as you hissed at him.

“Don’t I?” Captain hummed.

With his foot he kicked your legs wider apart. Next his hand landed with a softer slap over your pussy. He kept his fingers there. Held them pressed against you, starting a slow circular motion that drew out wetness you shouldn’t be presenting at his proximity.

A whimper escaped your mouth as you felt your clit throb beneath his fingers. The thin fabric of your bottoms growing a wet spot.

“There she is.” Captain drawled in pleasure, tracing his metal finger along the back of your neck.

Dust glittered on your skin, the tiny flakes clinging to his finger as he touched your skin.

His touch disappeared, leaving you with a mixture of relief and confusing longing, as Rogers moved around to face you again.

He crouched down, showing you his finger that now shined with fairy dust.

“You may think I'm repulsive, sprite, but I will do things to your body that will make you burst in fountains.” He traced your lips with that finger, withdrawing it just in time before you thought to bite it (even if your teeth would crack against the metal of his prosthetic).

“No, I won’t!” You sneered, struggling in your bonds.

Captain’s face leaned closer, his breath puffing against your lips as he spoke:

“I’ll have you creaming and dusting yourself like a pathetic, needy slut. And you’ll learn to beg for it.”

He stood up, once again leaving you clueless about what he was about to do to you. The stocks prevented you from movement, but also blocked out any way of catching in your peripheral vision what was happening behind it. No way for you to prepare yourself for whatever the Captain did.

He slid your green bottoms down your legs in one swift move. You shrieked and tried to kick him. A cold, metal grip crushed your ankle. Your bones rattled, the pressure of his hold warning you of how easily he could break you if he wished.

“Keep your feet on the floor, or I’ll shackle them too.” He barked, releasing your leg.

You considered kicking him again, but then your brain lost the ability to connect thoughts to motions as another slap jerked your body.

His hand met your bare skin now, the sting of it more intense. He gave you no pause as he began raining steady hits across your ass. Your body tensed, heat from the burning in your butt spreading in waves through your body. Perspiration shone on your skin, your breathing growing heavier.

Then his fingers teased along your parted folds, dipping into shameful wetness that dripped out of you.

You couldn’t comprehend how he managed that. The spanking has hurt, it shouldn’t rouse your body. Your position was humiliating. You were a captive against your will! And yet… Captain Rogers had you trembling with growing need.

“Nooo!” You moaned a protest when his fingers gathered your wetness and started circling your clit.

Your thighs tensed. You wanted nothing more but to close them and stop this madness, but Captain slotted himself between them, the fabric of his pants abrasive on your delicate skin.

“Yes, sprite.” He rubbed your nub harder. “Let it go.”

He watched, mesmerized, as your skin started glowing. A delicate shimmer at first that turned brighter as your arousal spiked. The higher he pushed you the more dust appeared. Your skin looked like it was covered in a layer of sweet glitter. Your wings seemed to be encrusted with crushed gems, sprinkles falling all around as your wings fluttered.

A single long, big finger slid into you, spearing through your tight walls. An intrusion that set everything inside you on fire, causing the fairy dust to fall all around as you seized in pleasure.

He kept pushing into you, even as you sagged. Pleading noises bubbled on your lips; for what, you weren’t even sure anymore. A second finger joined the first, stretching you. He curled them and the spot he nudged elicited another lewd moan from you.

Captain’s cool, metal hand touched the small of your back. Surprisingly gently this time. He slid his fingers up, teasing the underside of your wing. Silver metal of his prosthetic covered in the thick brilliance of your dust, sparkles of rainbow caught in the light.

He moved his hand further and gripped your wing a tad harder, not enough to cause pain though. That, combined with incessant thrusting of his fingers, toppled you over another peak.

You came with a hoarse cry, dropping your head low as dust fluttered from your fingers which clenched and straightened in spasm as you rode out your orgasm.

When he pulled out his fingers, a squelch of your sopping pussy humiliated you further. His metal hand gave your folds a little pat; you had to clench your jaw to stop another moan from falling out.

Captain remained quiet. No teasing words, no victorious jab.

You thought you heard him hum in delight. A silent pause stretched. Then a loud groan.

“Fuck.” His low, husky voice sent a shiver up your spine.

His steps sounded heavier as he moved, as if he suddenly gained more weight or strength. He squatted in front of you. Your head felt heavy as you slowly lifted it up to look at him.

His irises weren’t simply blue anymore. They mirrored a jeweled shimmer of fairy dust.

His skin seemed aglow, too. All of him pulsed with power.

“That I did not know, sweet sprite.” He said, wonder and hunger bursting a starlight in his eyes.

“That your juices are more potent than a whole bottle of fairy dust.” He licked his lips as if savoring the taste. “I merely sucked your slick off my fingers and the power that it gave me? Oh, sprite- I feel it charging through me like a lightning bolt.”

“A thimble of fairy dust gives a kick. A nice high with some enhanced perks for a short while. Your cream? It’s a storm in veins, sprite. A little lick and I’m a step from a god.”

“No! No, please, no, you can’t-” Your brain turned frantic, fear creeping up through your still softened with pleasure body.

If he told anyone of that, not only would your fate be chained to the gutter, but all the other fairies would be at risk. Hunted and ripped apart for limitless greed of monsters like Captain Rogers.

“Relax, little sprite.” His hand cupped your cheek, his voice almost soothing. His eyes, a galaxy of captivating darkness. “I have no intention of sharing this power with anyone. No, sweetling, I’ll be the only one you give it to.”

“The others will pay high for the dust you sprinkle around plentifully. But your sweet, tiny cunt? It belongs to me now.”

He leaned in, sealing your lips with his own. You tasted yourself on his tongue, your juices not having the same effect on you as it did on him, but the hunger of his kiss stirred something inside you.

He broke the kiss with a bite to your lip, which he soothed with a flick of his tongue. Then he was standing up and moving again, until he nestled himself between your thighs.

His hands squeezed your buttocks, spreading them to allow him even easier access to your glistening, puffy folds. He licked you with a broad stroke of his tongue; the sensation made you shudder, your hips tilting upwards in an involuntary invitation.

He devoured you, mouthing on your pussy as if it was the juiciest, sweetest fruit. He lapped up each trickle of your slick, forced his tongue inside then swirled it around your clit. Bristles of his beard brushed your skin, adding to the hazy pleasure. You knew you’ll have burns from how ferociously he ate you out.

You came into his mouth, despite trying to hold it off. Your whimpers mixed with Captain’s groan of delight.

He licked you clean, wasting no single drop, then trailed hot open mouthed kisses across your inner thigh and over your ass. Your legs shook as he straightened up. Rustling of fabric reached your ears, your dizzy brain recognizing clothes being taken off.

“Might be a tight fit, sprite.” Captain’s husky chuckle made your pussy clench.

Your weak whine unfurled into a wanton moan as the tip of his big cock stretched your opening.

Captain Rogers was much larger than you in size overall, you never considered before that he may be proportionately bigger in every detail of his body. The breach of his cock felt nearly painful, yet his girth seemed to rub against spots which were never touched properly before.

He kept pushing in, in, in, knocking the breath out of your lungs. He pierced into you deeper, filing you completely.

“You taste amazing and you feel exquisite, too.” He gripped your hip with his metal hand and the curve of your upper wing with his flesh one as he bottomed out.

“Ah, sprite! You’re so tight around me I may want to stay inside forever.”

He ran his fingers along the curve of your wing, sending little shocks straight to your core. Your pussy fluttered, sipping more slick.

“You like that, sweetling?” Captain purred, stroking your wing again, at the same time rocking his hips into you slowly. “Yeah, you do. I’ll make you see fireworks. Turn you into a little sparkling firework, too.”

Tightening his hold on you, he withdrew. Then slammed back into you with force, evoking your cry.

He fucked you with steady, deep thrusts, speeding up when your skin covered in new sheen of dust. Glittering powder seeped through his fingers where they rested on your wing; speckles of dust flaked from your thighs and ass with each sharp slap of his hips.

Your whole body tensed, wings spreading wide and feet nearly flying off the floor as his cock drove into a particularly sensitive spot. You saw stars bursting white in your eyes and your whole body glimmered with a powdered rainbow.

Your cries grew louder, then your voice scraped raw after another, and another climax. Still, Captain was fucking you through it. You had no idea if it was him alone, or if your magic that he gorged on made him able to last so long.

When he finally finished, spilling inside you with a loud, beastly grunt, you were sweaty and shiny, and completely boneless. You nearly dropped to your knees when Captain slipped out and let go of you.

With a breathless chuckle, he wrapped an arm under you and pulled you up. With his other hand he opened the padlock and released you from the stockade. You fell into his arms half-consciously, even your wings felt heavy, dropping down, too tired to make any motion.

“See, little sprite, you dusted for me in abundance.” He mocked your earlier rebellion as he scooped you up.

The floor was covered in a thick layer of sparkling dust. Enough to fill a few vials.Your small feet left an imprint in the shimmery drizzle in the spot from which Captain picked you up.

You had no strength to fight him when Rogers carried you across the suite. He opened the birdcage and sat you down on fluffy pillows. Arranged your body quite comfortably in your new, narrow prison. He locked it and swayed the cage with a gentle push.

He watched you with clear, untired eyes (still sparkling with extreme power), while you peeked at him through heavy eyelids. You saw him wrap his fingers around his softening cock, gathering your mixed juices and bringing his hand up to his face. He licked it clean, his irises anew igniting with power.

His skin glowed, though you weren’t sure if it’s only the sweat from your coupling, or if your magic thrummed beneath his skin so vividly. His muscles looked to be carved from marble. Veins curved in places which you never paid attention to in any man.

He looked like a god he claimed to feel like.

A beautiful monster who you should despise for the rest of your life, no matter how your body shivered under his touch.

“Rest now, sprite.” Captain cooed as your head leaned against one of the bars. “If you prove to be good, you might earn yourself bed rights someday.”

He swayed the cage again, rocking you to sleep. Despite your effort to stay awake, to not waste a second and start forming a plan of escape, drowsiness was taking over your exhausted body.

You fell asleep as you watched Captain pull on his pants - and nothing else - and bend over the map table, scribbling something down. A new course to lands where he could profit from your dust.

Or doomed places where he could test the power that owning you gave him.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers au #once upon a time challenge #dark fairytale #boxofbonesfic challenge #boxofbonesfic #make the dust fly

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burnyouwithacigarettelighter · 1 year

Note

sugar daddy cillian or robert fischer pls i beggg !!

THIS IS SO!!! had me sweatin writing this fr… also this got rly long by accident and i kinda underutilized the sugar daddy part, i apologize😓

warnings. daddy kink, anal sex, mildly dd/lg, au!cillian (divorced, again not to be disrespectful it’s just to be convenient)

“D’you like it?” Cillian asked, sneaking up behind you in front of the mirror and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You giggled, “You know I like anything you pick out for me, daddy.” He’d bought an expensive pink silky lingerie set for you, skimpy and revealing but with soft cream ruffles and strategically placed bows that made you look like a little angel — his little angel, he’d so often remind you — and you tried it on for him as soon as you got home.

He chuckled deeply, pressing kisses into the crook of your neck, “I know, I know… you’re a good girl like that, aren’t you? Always wantin’ t’please.”

You grinned sweetly, tilting your head to the side to allow further access to your neck as Cillian’s kissing and nipping grew rougher. “Only ‘cause you spoil me so much.”

Cillian’s grip tightened around you, making the seam of your ass press flush against his clothed cock, which you vaguely felt hardened and pulse at the feeling of your sweet ass. “Gotta spoil m’girl, don’t I? What kinda daddy would I be if I didn’t…” he hummed, trailing off as his hands seemed to form a consciousness of their own, sneaking into the waistband of your new panties.

His fingers seemed to graze everywhere but where you needed him most, kneading at the flesh of your ass, imprinting his fingernail marks into the skin of your hips— even fucking petting your mound, but not at all going lower.

“Please, daddy?” you begged with a whimper, your thighs clenching on instinct.

“I’ll only touch your other hole, angel. You’re not on anythin’ right now.” He chastised, pulling away from you completely and sitting on the edge of your bed.

“We could use a condom,” you insisted weakly, despite knowing his answer anyway.

“No,” Cillian shook his head, “you know daddy’ll only come raw.”

You pouted, taking gentle steps and sitting on your plush mattress beside him. Here was the crux of the matter: you ran out of your birth control a few weeks ago and couldn’t get your doctor to prescribe it again — y’know, just tedious medical bullshit — and with Cillian’s existing children, the divorce, your paid arrangement… let’s just say, it’d be the terrible cherry on top if he got you knocked up.

You hadn’t had his cock in you at all, and since running out of your pills it’d just been other stuff, like head or fingering or very, very rough nipple play— all good stuff, just not enough stuff. You wanted him to fill you up, stuff your cunt to the brim with his thick length, but he refused.

He did, however, offer up the alternative: anal, to which you shook your head and shuddered— you’d never done it before, and if your friends' experiences were anything to go by, you didn’t want to. They always said it was too harsh, that it hurt and he’d stretch your hole too painfully, that you wouldn’t be able to sit properly for days after.

But by now… you were going stir fucking crazy. It felt like one long game of edging, ‘cept there wasn’t going to be an end ‘till you got back on birth control, which could be in months from now. You missed his delicious cock so much, the sweet curve that tickled your cervix just right, the veins that rubbed your walls like he’d stuck his tongue right in you…

You bit your lip, peering into his soft blue eyes, before sighing. “Okay… you can - put it in my other hole,” you whispered nervously, tucking your hair behind your ear.

You didn’t miss the way Cillian brightened, how his body relaxed with relief at your long-awaited agreement. “Good girl,” he praised, pushing you onto your stomach lightly, petting your hair out of your face.

He then dragged your panties down slowly, hands splaying across your ass cheeks and humming satisfactorily at the wetness your cunt had been collecting. You were sopping, your sweet liquid smearing against your lips and dirtying your soft, supple thighs.

You flushed at his intense staring, pressing your face deeper into your baby pink sheets, feeling every bit the little girl Cillian told you you were, getting ready to be fucked in the ass in your overtly feminine bedroom. You heard him fumble with his jeans, before letting out a sharp gasp when two of his fingers dipped into your cunt, swirling around your hole for a pleasure-filled moment and then coating your puckered asshole with the juice.

“Don’t be scared, my sweet girl,” he soothed softly, lightly toying with the rim of your hole, a finger or two able to comfortably press in. “I’ll be gentle.”

Then, Cillian lined up his thick head with your hole, inhaling sharply as he pushed in. A pained whimper left your throat at the painful stretch, and he cooed, lightly spitting onto your ass to moisten the area up more. “So fuckin’ tight,” he groaned jiltedly, unable to keep in his audible pleasure despite the way you writhed.

You breathed in and out shakily, incredibly glad that Cillian had stopped for a moment to let your tense hole readjust to his thickness. You could see clearly how your friends’ protests were based in fact — but you could also feel that familiar heat building into your stomach, the insatiable little monster in you acting up ‘cause Cillian had you wrenched on his cock.

“Can I move?” He asked breathlessly a short bit later, cock swelling when your hole clenched at his words.

“Ah… uh-huh,” you responded weakly, spreading your legs more, as if it would help lessen the sting. It didn’t do much, other than spur Cillian’s hungry appetite more, but the effort was appreciated at least mentally.

“Fuck,” he cursed when he pulled out then slid back in, a measly few seconds interval between the two actions. It was so quick it made your head spin and your insides burn, but he noticed this rather quickly and massaged your hips with his fingers gently.

“I’m sorry, angel,” he apologized, “just need y’so bad. Haven’t had you in so long.”

You blinked blearily, shaking your head. “N-no, don’t be… I’ll… I’ll be a better angel for daddy.”

He smiled, pressing a wet kiss to your ass cheek, “Thank you, my sweet.” Then, he pulled out again - slower, thankfully - and then pressed back in. He gathered a good pace: not too fast, not too slow, and the pain that you’d felt taking you over scarily dripped away into a pleasure you’d never felt before.

His cock just felt so much bigger in your ass, and it was already plenty for your cunt. “God, I love your little holes,” he wheezed out, and your back arched, your first moan slipping out of you that night.

Cillian grinned. “Such cute noises, all for this cock in your tight ass.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but were cut off by your second sound: a wet mewl as his balls brushed past your puffy clit. Your head was swimming with these stranger sensations swirling all over your body, the weird, out of place knot stirring in your lower stomach from anal.

“Oh, baby, you’re so good for me,” Cillian praised, seemingly out of nowhere, but you didn’t have time to be confused when his thrusts got harder, a modicum of the pain you’d felt earlier returning as he forced his cock deeper within your ass.

You’d realize a little later what he meant, why he fucked you rougher so suddenly: your walls finally relaxed sround his length, pulsing every so often and feeling like it wanted him to have his way with you.

“Big,” you squeaked out, squirming and gripping your mattress for dear life. He rutted into you carnally, your ass bouncing with every needy push, jaw falling slack when the pads of his fingers cheekily found your clit, rubbing and pressing on it.

Your sticky, filthy orgasm was sneaky, hiding behind his groans or your shallow intakes of breath, and came out to surprise you when Cillian’s hips jutted right against yours, his cock deeper than he’d ever been in your cunt. Your cunt clenched around nothing, creaming on his balls as you choked out his name, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“You came on my cock in your ass,” he said, amazed and a hundred percent more turned on, sliding in and out of you hurriedly like if he didn’t climax as quickly as you you’d change your mind about anal and leave him in the dust.

After another loud moment of fucking, skin slapping on clammy skin, breathy whines falling from your lips, desperate growls out of his, you felt the familiar rush of warmth fill you — in your ass, this time, which was similar and completely different all at once. Like, you certainly felt full, but his load didn’t easily drip out of you like it would’ve in your cunt.

Cillian released a satisfied sigh, leading his softening cock out of your stretched out asshole delicately, telling you to breathe when his head had to exit and reawaken the terrible initial stretch.

You were face down into the mattress, ass up in the air directly in Cillian’s eye line, knees pried open, back arched— you were utterly, completely wrecked, fucked out beyond belief at the strange combination of pain and pleasure. Cillian leaned down slightly to suckle on your sensitive clit, the torturing tease, before leaning back slightly and frowning, because his come still didn’t spill out of your tight hole.

“Push f’me, my sweet girl, let daddy see himself drip out’a you,” he ordered huskily, spreading your ass cheeks wide with his large hands.

You pushed once, and sighed tiredly, feeling his come slowly slide out of your spent hole. It was wet, warm, and thick, coating your cunt’s outer lips lightly.

“That’s a good girl,” he patted the small of your back sweetly, then turned you over to your side to face him. “Now, baby, because you’ve been so good, what do you say about going to Paris? We’ll get those pretty red-bottoms for you, and the sweet Chanel dress too…”

#burnyouwithacigarettelighter #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy rpf #cillian murphy

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lanadelnegan · 1 year

Note

could you do jdm x male reader? maybe mostly angst and possibly a bit of smut? literally whatever you feel like writing is perfectly fine

You Belong to Me

Negan x Male Reader

Summary: Negan and y/n (Alexandria’s leader) have unspoken feelings for each other, that lead to frustration, anger, and smut.

Warnings: 18+, smut, EXTREMELY FILTHY IM SORRY, anal, rimming, blowjob, spit kink, choking, cum play, angst, negan being a dominant verbal zaddy

Note: I’ll be honest.. I finished this whole thing before I realized you asked for jdm and not negan. 😭 I PROMISE I’ll do a jdm one too. But I hope you also enjoy this one. I think it might be my favorite so far. 😘

Note#2: and I know you asked for a “bit of smut” but I got carried away and well, it’s a lot. And it’s filthy. Forgive me. 🧎‍♀️ I’m terrible at following directions, clearly.

Your jaw twitches as Negan walks past you, making sure to brush his hand against yours as he happily whistles the melody that's grown to haunt you over the past couple months.

"Come on, y/n. Let's see what kinda goodies you got in the cupboard."

Some bystanders watch as you follow Negan into your own house, allowing him to browse around.. not that you have a choice.

You glare at Negan with your arms crossed while you lean against the frame of your kitchen entrance.

"Who were you before all this?" You ask him and it must catch him off guard because he turns from the open fridge to face you, raising his thick brows.

"Before what?" He chuckles amused. "Before the dead started walking?"

You answer him with a simple nod.

"Why, y/n? You think if you play mind games.. try to get in my fucking head.. that I'll just what.. stop? I told you already. You belong to me." He approaches you slowly, tilting his head to the side. "Do I need to remind you of that?"

"Not trying to get in your head. Just making conversation since you're standing in my damn kitchen, making yourself at home."

"Well, ya know what. I wasn't planning on settling in. But since you're offeri-"

"I'm not." You say through your teeth, making it clear that he's not welcome here. Negan looks at you at eye level as a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"That.. is no way to treat your new house guest, y/n. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna bake us some fucking cookies." He walks away, leaving a scent trail of leather and cigarettes behind as he opens your cabinets, pulling out what he needs to get started.

You look to the front door, contemplating your next move and strategically thinking of how to get this psycho out of your house.

"The supplies.. your men are loading them up. Don't you need to leave soon?"

"Oh, right! Thanks for reminding me. Could you be a fucking doll and go tell Simon to head on out without me?" His smile widens as he turns on the faucet, washing his hands.

Hesitantly, you do as he says, leaving to find Simon and explaining the situation before heading back to your house. Some fellow Alexandrians watch you curiously before Carol quickly catches up to you.

"Y/n! What's going on? Where's Negan?" She asks panicked, noticing the Saviors are leaving without him.

"In my fucking house. He's staying."

Her brows crinkle as she walks quickly beside me, trying to keep up. "How long?"

You shrug annoyed. "Keep an eye on things for me while he's here. I'm not letting him outta my sight."

Carol nods, turning away and you jog up the steps to your house. You enter your house and the smell of freshly baked cookies fills your nose.

"You gotta try these, y/n. I would make one hell of a fucking house wife. First the spaghetti, now cookies? I gotta stop spoiling you like this." He takes a bite out of one, groaning at the taste before holding the plate out for you to take one.

"Hmph." You breathe out annoyed before grabbing one and taking a bite, dropping it back on the plate.

"Welllll?" Negan asks expectantly.

"Tastes like shit." You glare at him as the smile on his mouth fades into a scowl. He nods disappointedly as he slides the plate onto the counter, walking past you without a word.

You turn and watch him disappear up the stairs before following after him, smiling to yourself proudly at the accomplishment of hurting his feelings.

He makes his way to your room, walking in without hesitation and kicking his shoes off.

"What the hell are you doing?" You ask following him. "This is my room."

"Wrong, y/n. Whatever you have.. belongs to me. So, this room? Is mine." His voice is deep with anger as he shrugs his jacket off his shoulders.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I would love a hot shower.. in my bathroom." Negan announces, walking to the master bathroom attached to your room.

You refuse to let him stay in your room by himself, so you defiantly kick off your shoes next to his, slipping off your pants until you're left in boxers and a black t-shirt. You fall into bed defeatedly, listening to the sound of running water coming from the half open bathroom door.

You start to doze off before the water shuts off, leaving nothing but loud silence.

Negan sighs loudly from the bathroom. "The fuck are your towels?" You hear him rustling through the cabinets under the sink.

"You took them all last time." You call out.

"Goddamn it." He walks out of the bathroom, completely bare and wet. You shamelessly watch as water runs down his body, traveling through the v-shape in his abdomen before reaching his long, veiny cock.

"Like what you see, y/l/n? ... Told you my dick was bigger than yours." Your eyes quickly snap away as he uses his dirty shirt to wipe the excess water from his toned body.

"Gonna need to borrow some boxers unless... you'd rather me sleep in the nude... From the look on your face, you'd probably prefer that anyway, huh?" Negan chuckles and you run a hand down your frustrated face, looking up at the ceiling.

"Top drawer."

Negan makes his way towards your dresser, opening the drawer and browsing through. You can't help but let your eyes roam to his backside, admiring his firm ass. His eyes catch yours in the dresser mirror in front of him and you freeze, holding his eye contact.

The corner of his mouth raises like he caught you red handed and he chuckles as he bends, slipping your boxers up his long legs.

You get up, frustrated with yourself and quickly walk to bathroom, desperate to get away from him, but he cuts you off.

Your jaw ticks as you look down between the two of you, refusing to give him anymore attention.

"Get outta my way Negan."

His smirk widens as his hands go to rest lazily on his hips. "You gonna make me?"

You shake your head annoyed and push past him. "I'm not fucking doing this with you." You slam the bathroom door shut behind you, leaning against the wall and exhaling a deep breath.

You attempt to think about anything but him, trying to calm the growing length beneath your boxers.

"Fuck." You whisper out, frustrated with yourself. The bathroom mirror is still foggy from Negan's shower and your mind drifts back to the thought of his wet body emerging from the steam.

You look down at your hardening cock and bite your lip, keeping your hands by your sides and restraining from touching yourself. You finally compose yourself after a few moments, tucking yourself under the waistband of your underwear and letting your shirt hang over.

When you exit the bathroom, Negan is already laying in your bed on top of the covers, one hand behind his head while the other rests on his hairy stomach. You don't allow yourself to look as you climb into the bed next to him.

"I want to make one thing clear, Negan. I am sleeping in my bed for the simple fact that.. it's my fucking bed and I'm not letting you kick me outta my own damn room. Don't get any weird fucking ideas."

Negan chuckles. "Case you forgot, I have a whole fucking handful of wives back home. If anyone in this bed is getting any ideas, it's you."

"Sure is strange that you're in my house when you have so many wives at home, isn't it? .......Did you kill their families too? Force them to be with you?"

Negan turns his head to you, his expression serious now. "You should probably go sleep in the other room. Before I lose my goddamn temper."

"Like I said, this is MY fucking room. YOU get out." You throw the covers over yourself as if to convince him you're not leaving.

"Fuck it." Negan stands up to leave the room but turns to face you when he reaches the door. "You know why you belong to me, y/n? .. ... Because your people don't respect you. You got them into this shit because of your own choices. I just happen to reap the benefits of your own stupidity."

You throw the covers off, angrily making your way over to him before stopping directly in front of his face. "And you think your people respect you?! You've tortured them. Abused them. They don't respect you, Negan. They're scared of you. There's a difference."

"Are you scared of me, y/n?" Your eyes widen when you feel his dick twitch against yours. He subtly presses his body closer to you, barely touching his cock to yours through your boxers.

You noticeably gulp and his eyes drop to your throat, making him grin.

"No." You breathe out, glancing down to watch his tongue lick his bottom lip.

He softly chuckles before leaning into your ear. "Then why do you have goosebumps right now?"

If you didn't have them before he said that, you definitely do now from his raspy voice vibrating against your ear and his dick rubbing against yours through the thin material.

"From your body language, you are most definitely scared.. or turned on.. One of the two.. Guess it just depends on which one you'll admit to." Negan grins devilishly, daring you to make a move.

You stare at him for a moment before spitting angrily in his face, making his eyes shut tightly as he wipes your saliva off his beard.

You don't have time to regret your decision because Negan's hand suddenly grips your throat, tightening and walking you backwards towards the bed. "That's how you want it to be, huh? Good.... I can be rough too... On your fucking knees."

You don't fight him, knowing he'll win so you willingly drop to your knees in front of him, keeping your hands by your sides.

He pulls out his semi-hard cock, stroking it a few times in your face until it grows to full length. "Gonna put that fucking smart ass mouth to use. Open." He demands.

You don't move, and instead glare up at him through your brows, ignoring his request.

Negan chuckles darkly before bending down, tightly squeezing your jaw with his hand, prying your mouth open.

"Open. Or I'll choose another hole." He grins before spitting directly into your mouth.

You reluctantly obey, allowing him to enter your mouth and he gives you no warning before ramming his cock deep down your throat. You choke at the sudden feeling, attempting to jerk away but his fingers roughly push your head forward, holding your face against him until your nose is pressed into his pubic hair.

You feel lightheaded as if you could black out before he quickly yanks your hair back, causing you to exhale a deep breath. He pulls you up completely this time, bringing your face close to his.

Negan's eyes search yours. "Tell me to fucking stop." His breathing is erratic and his voice is deeper and raspier than before.

You stare back at him silently, giving him consent without using your words. He smirks before turning you quickly and positioning you until your knees are on the bed and your face in a pillow with your ass in the air.

He climbs on the bed behind you, yanking your boxers down and sliding them off your legs until your bare ass is exposed to him. You feel his large hands rub your ass cheeks before squeezing roughly and spreading them apart.

"Mm. I am gonna have some fun with you." He says before diving in, pressing his face into your ass and using his tongue to pleasure you. Your cheeks blush and you moan at the sensation of his tongue swirling around inside of you.

After a few moments of licking, he pulls back, spitting on your hole and leaning back until he's lined up behind you. His finger lightly circles your hole before pushing through, knuckle deep. "Mm, goddamn you are tight."

His finger retreats, leaving you empty and desperate for more. "You ever taken a dick before, y/n? You think you're ready for me? He chuckles, teasing the tip of his cock against your hole.

"Negan.. shut.. up. Just fuck me."

"Beg."

You remain stubbornly silent at first, but when he starts to get up from the bed, you give him. "Please."

"Sorry, what was that?" Negan positions himself behind you again.

"Please. Fuck me."

Your eyes widen with surprise when Negan reaches around to your face, fish-hooking your mouth with the finger that was just inside you and jerking you back until your body is pressed against his. Chills cover your body as his low voice whispers in your ear. "Can't fucking hear you." His finger leaves your mouth, gripping your throat instead and squeezing firmly.

"Please.. Please fuck me, Negan." You beg louder and he lets you go, pushing you back down into the mattress.

He enters you fully and suddenly in one motion, not giving you any time to adjust and you cry out at the pain. His heavy balls slap against yours from underneath and he pounds you relentlessly, harder and deeper with each thrust.

"So fucking tight." Negan groans through his teeth. "Wish your people could see you right now. Bent over and moaning from my cock."

He grabs your hair, yanking you up again until his mouth is next to your ear. "You think they'd be disappointed, y/n? Knowing whose dick you're taking?"

"Shut up."

"What if they knew how much you liked it?" He reaches around you, gripping your hard, leaking cock in his hand while still pounding you. "How this cock throbs for me…. Look. At. That." Precum leaks from your tip as you both watch Negan's thumb rub it around on your tip. From this angle, his dick presses perfectly into your g-spot with each thrust and you moan louder when you feel your orgasm builds up inside you.

Negan releases your cock and pulls out of you suddenly, flipping you over until you're laying on your back.

He positions himself in between your legs and pushes back into you, making you both moan out together.

You reach for your dick, desperately needing to stroke it but Negan grabs your wrist, pinning it above your head with the other. "No fucking way. You belong to me, remember? This dick belongs to me. I'm making you cum."

You arch yourself into him until his dick finds your g-spot again, hitting it hard over and over.

"Fuck, fuck, fuuuck." You cry out as your cum spills all over your stomach. Negan groans as he watches you come undone, pumping into you faster.

“Gonna cum in this tight fucking ass.. cause it belongs to me too. That okay with you?”

Before you can tell him no, he stops thrusting, holding himself deep inside of you. “Ahh Fuck. Fuck.” You feel him pulse against your walls over and over, filling you to the brim before he finally pulls out.

Just when you think it’s over and the guilt starts to set in, Negan pushes your legs back further, pressing his hands against the back of your knees as he looks down at your hole. “Lemme see you push it out.”

“No.. wha-“

“Now.”

You sigh, giving in once again as your muscles flex and you feel his load leak out of you and run down.

Negan swipes it up with his finger, pushing it into your mouth suddenly, making you taste him.

Your brows scrunch together angrily as you try to turn your head and spit his fingers out but he overpowers you until you give in, sucking his seed off his fingers. You can’t deny he tastes fucking good and it makes you moan.

“Taste good?” Negan chuckles, watching you enjoy the taste of him.

“Much better than your cookies.”

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iridescent-solstice · 2 months

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| Fic inspired by: {Reverse 1999} A 20th Century Time-Travel Strategic RPG Game |

Noticing her turning to leave, you panic and grab onto her wrist. A vice-like grip around it, almost as if when she leaves . . . She’d disappear and take everything you hold dear with her.

“Timekeeper wait!”

Vertin’s head snaps to look at you. So quickly, you swear it flew. A mixture of intense emotions written all over her face. Eyes widened in shock with her mouth slightly agape. She’s been on many missions that‘s brought new arcanists to the foundation, but never has anyone clung to her in such a manner. Its the storm, Vertin tells herself, the storm is what’s causing you to act like this. Why else would you cling to failure like her who can’t protect anyone? But then she looks into your eyes . . . Eyes that peer up at her so vulnerably. Never has anyone looked at her with such fondness in their eyes. Never . . . Has anyone but her mother held onto her like she’s their lifeline.

“I-” You pull your arm back immediately, attempting to speak but the ability to speak has already left you. Apologies about to leave you, but she speaks up before you can even start. “Whatever it is that you wish to speak, you must be quick about it. The storm is almost here.” She speaks with finality in her voice. Ahh, another mission must have been assigned.

Embarrassed, your eyes wander away from her face as you fidget with yourself. “I- . . . Timekeeper, I know you’re busy. It’s not my intention to keep you from your duties . . .” Trailing off again, you’re unable to speak. “But?” She says in an attempt to coax it out of you. The authoritative tone melts away to a voice as smooth as butter, so you cave. Like you always do with her.

“I know that you've been through these many times.” You swallow trying to gather the courage to speak to her so boldly. Openly for the first time. She watches you with such intensity that you get lost in her eyes. The same aloof expression as always has captivated you like no other face could ever. This causes your soul to jump to the sky in fright when you feel her hand grasp yours. Tight and warm, yet her touch is so gentle. . . . As if to say she’s here for you. “With lots of other arcanists but . . . This is my first time braving through the storm. I know you're needed elsewhere but if it's possible . . . Please could you . . . Could I stay with you please?” Your voice teeters off meekly at the last sentence. Tears welling up in your eyes, but you blink them away as you pull your hand away from hers. Face turning away in shame. “I MEAN . . . Forgive me, I just got carried away. You should go before someone comes to-”

“I’ll stay.” Now it’s your turn to look shocked. Eyes finding hers again once more. The sad sea green ocean in her eyes moves you to huddle closer back to her. To comfort her, something tugs at your heart whenever her eyes get like that. Murky and dark, like she’s reminiscing on something that doesn’t exist anymore. Oh, how you wish you’d be allowed to know what goes on in her head. “I know what it’s like to be all alone with no one to turn to. Don’t worry about my mission, after all I'm not a timekeeper yet, so you shouldn’t keep calling me that either. My abilities are far too weak to be considered for high stake missions at the moment.” With that being said, she breaks your shared stare. An arm hesitantly wrapping around you. Looking outside the window, she observes the rain as it dances around the flowers outside the facility. “I’ll stay with you, as long as you need me to.” Those words bring you more comfort than anything the foundation could ever offer. And they have offered a lot. Your ability is a game changer. By getting to you first, they got the first real upper hand on manus vindicate but all you feel like is a puppet they poke and prod at.

Vertin on the other hand, feels like home. God, you haven’t thought of that in a long while. Wordlessly, you lean your head on her shoulder. She lets you.

Together the two of you watch the world outside as the number on her wristwatch gets closer and closer to zero. Abnormalities beginning to appear, and soon the storm will begin.

5 4 3 2 1

. . . Her hand clutches yours even tighter and a whimper is heard. You're not sure if it's hers or yours.

[ ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀꜱ ʙʏ: @grungenglam]

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vavoom-sorted-art · 9 months

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Popping the cherry! (mine and.. others) - Sleight Of Hand - Chapter Two: The Turn

@moonyinpisces and I are MORE than excited to finally bring you Chapter 2 of “Sleight of Hand”: The Turn!

Read on Ao3 with ALL the comic pages!

Uncensored Version on Patreon!

---

All Aziraphale can focus on is hot, and tight, and wet. If he wasn’t already sitting, he’d have collapsed to his knees, too. He runs gentle hands through Crowley’s gel-stiff hair, touches softly at the strain of his jaw; Crowley takes him like he was born for it. Like God had created his corporation with this in mind before getting topsy-turvy at the eyes.

Eyes that are squeezed shut in an expression speaking of taste, of savoring. There’s tears at the corners of them. Aziraphale thumbs them away instinctively, can’t help but tilt his head back against the mirror and allow himself to be relished.

Crowley runs slow, worshipful hands up and down Aziraphale’s clothed thighs, fingers digging into the softness, there, giving way to the firmness beneath. There’s no rhythm, here, or strategic focus; it’s so sweet it’s excruciating. Crowley makes a choking sound, but doesn’t slow down in the slightest, brows drawn in concentration, dedicating himself entirely to this mode of servitude. Of prayer.

And Aziraphale, keeper of knowledge, feels sacreligious. Because he can easily reveal their survival, or he can keep them in death. Suspend them at the precipice of the last night on earth for as long as he’d wish. It’s heady, being worshiped for the power he has but doesn’t deserve.

The acknowledgement of it brings him far too close to the edge, right along with Crowley doing something particularly clever with his tongue.

“Stop, stop–” Aziraphale slides off the vanity and drops down to his knees like a collapsed banner, panting from exertion. He crashes their lips together, tastes the saltiness of Crowley’s mouth, his eager tongue. Wraps an arm around Crowley’s waist, bows him back until he’s just distracted and low enough for Aziraphale to snatch the bloody photograph, tuck it into his own sleeve. For a moment, he’s bearing Crowley’s weight entirely.

Crowley, who seems quite enthralled by the idea. “Angel,” he breathes, pulling back to stare at Aziraphale in unmasked arousal. His lips are pinkened and damp. “You’re–”

“The settee,” Aziraphale manages, standing to his feet with the warm weight of Crowley pressed to his side, holding him up entirely with one arm until the demon gets his feet properly beneath him. “I’ll have you on the settee.”

“You’ll–”

“Or you’ll have me,” Aziraphale continues, steering them both away. He nods once, definitively. “Yes, you’ll have me. Come on.”

[Keep reading on Ao3]

and go check out the smut war over on the @goodomensafterdark subreddit!

#ineffable smut war #nsft #suggestive #honestly more than just suggestive lol #good omens #good omens fanart #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #good omens 2 #art #goodomens #good omens after dark #goad #cw suggestive #vavoom smut war #comic #Sleight Of Hand #vavoomart

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zhongrin · 9 months

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𒆙 the god of commerce

part 3/8 of ⎡∞ / 𝟔 𝟎 𝟎 𝟎 ⁺⎦, a zhongli 2023 birthday event

𖧷 tags ┈ gn!reader, crack, fluff, a sprinkle of angst, this time you’re both a humanboss and a humanfailure (tf is a gn term for girlboss and girlfailure help)

𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒻𝓊𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓊 ❬ masterlist ❭ 𐫱 𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 ❬ taglist ❭

𝑜mbré dark brown fading to gold was rex lapis’ most favored hair color, and most shop owners would use this fact on top of their god’s bright amber eyes to describe him on his ‘past visitations’, in an effort to try and pull customers into their establishments. having the god of commerce’s approval was a most effective marketing strategy, after all; who would doubt their beloved deity’s judgment when he was the one who had the idea to build a city by the harbor which was steadily getting more and more prosperous with each lunar moon that passed?

and for such a small restaurant owner such as yourself, the decision to put a little slogan next to your shop’s humble sign - claiming how rex lapis couldn’t get enough of your signature dish - was a no-brainer move. it brought in curious customers, and your little shop was located in a not-so-strategic location anyway, so what were the chances of an incognito rex lapis stumbling upon your slightly skewed business ethics, right?

riiiight.

you felt a lump of nervousness in your throat as this particular customer stared down at you with his amber eyes with gold and the slightest red lining his pupils — you sure hoped that was a natural color and not indicative of his anger.

“so you’re the shop’s owner?”

“yessir. i mean god. i mean. um.”

how do you politely address a god to their face? you had no idea. you weren’t educated enough to know and you never thought you had any reason to need to know.

thankfully, he didn’t seem to mind your lack of reverence. instead, his lips seemed to curl upwards.

huh. maybe he didn’t notice my little lie and was just here for a good meal?

“and you started this business, yes? your shop’s name does not ring any bells.”

“well… yeah, uh… my dad was a peddler and mum was a greengrocer, so. yep.”

“ah, i see, i see,” his voice was deep and calming, and you were about to gesture towards the wooden menu to allow him to choose a dish when his next words made you feel like you’d been hit with a petrifying spell — just like the ones the storytellers on the streets would narrate, “then pray tell, do remind me at which point after your establishment’s founding, have i ever said that i was… in your own words - ‘infatuated’, by your so-called signature dish? you see, if my memory serves, it has yet graced my tastebuds.”

fuck.

“ahaha… w-well…… you see…… about that…….,” you coughed and averted your eyes guiltily, trying to rack your brain on how to escape the divine punishment you were sure about to receive, and the effort came out in a jumble of words, “…. look, mister- uh- god. i gotta be able to feed myself somehow and i didn’t think it would hurt anyone but okay fine sorry i was so so wrong but if i let you dine for free will you consider not flattening me and my poor shop with your stone pillars? please? oh great archon?”

rex lapis’s fingers snapped open his folding fan, and for a moment you swore you saw a flash of a smile before the intricately drawn paper covered the lower half of his face. you also swore you saw mirth dancing beneath the elegant lines of his raised eyebrows and the way the corners of his eyes formed a gentle crinkle. this observation, though it might have been the works of your distressed imagination, made you dust your deflated courage off the ground.

“h-how about this,” you proposed, gesturing towards the kitchen, “give me a chance to make the slogan a reality. i promise you i’ll serve one of the best dishes you’ve ever eaten!”

“…. very well,” the immortal chuckled, “your determination and resilience is admirable. a chance is something i am willing to give.”

oh, blessed be rex lapis.

a few minutes of mental breakdown in the kitchen and a series of anxiety-filled food preparations later, you returned to his table with a tray full of side dishes and the main course, steaming hot and still bubbling inside the heated clay pot. you had no money to serve him his favored osmanthus wine, but you do have freshly dried osmanthus flowers, so as he observed the feast, you poured him a fresh brew and placed it right beside the little ornamental vase housing a single yellow hibiscus. you would have silently prayed to your god in the hope that the food was to your guest’s taste, but seeing as how the very same holy being was also the source of your anxiety, it seemed akin to washing coal.

the god of wealth gently picked up the wooden spoon and dipped it into the hot broth, before his lips closed around the utensil.

…..

a thoughtful hum rose from the back of his throat.

you half expected him to turn up his nose in disgust, but you were surprised to see how he repeated the action, as if trying to savor the taste with utmost diligence. it was only when he had properly sampled each of the ingredients inside the soup, he finally lifted his gaze to meet your gaze across the table.

“what a complex, rich flavor,” was his comment, “what is your secret?”

flabbergasted, you nearly spilled your entire cooking process and the detailed recipe like a sinner confessing their transgressions in order to beg for forgiveness - but you managed to refrain yourself at the last second. you did, however, let the rush of dopamine take over the forefront of your mind.

a proud smile not unlike a freshly bloomed glaze lily lit up your expression, “sorry, but i’m not selling my trade secrets! not even to rex lapis himself, hehe! uh- well, maybe if i die with no children or if i don’t have anyone who wants to continue the business, i might tell you- but! for now, it’s a secret!”

“ah, the farseeing mind of a businessman,” he nodded, “fair enough. i suppose it means i have to frequent your shop if i ever crave such delicacy.”

“ha! told you you’d get addicted!” you grinned cheekily, watching him elegantly continue to enjoy the cuisine, “… should i pack one up for you to take back home- palace- uh, wherever your godly abode is? as a birthday present?”

morax felt his temporary mortal vessel heat up, warmer than the indulgent food within his stomach, warmer than the sunny radiance of your smile.

“you need not try so hard, i never had the intention of ‘flattening’ you and your shop for a fairly harmless attempt at dishonest advertising. however, i must implore you to not take such risks moving forward.”

“…. alright, alright, sorry……,” you scratched your cheek sheepishly, “but i’m glad the great rex lapis actually liked my cooking! if you ever decide to stop by again, i’ll feed you other things,” you flashed him a cheerful grin, and unbeknownst to you, the geo archon felt his chest quake.

quickly shaking himself out of his stupor, your patron nodded in approval.

he did eventually learn the secret recipe of your infamous slow-cooked bamboo shoots soup. the handwritten recipe card was tucked neatly within the letter your apprentice-turned-next-owner had given him after your passing. inside it, you had penned down both an abstract yet also tangible step-by-step instructions; quality and care, time and patience, meticulousness and attentiveness.…

yet none of your successors, not even the ones who turned it into a pavillion and the leading beacon of one of the distinct cooking styles that represented liyue, could recreate the same taste of the very dish you cooked for him that day.

…. ah. but of course.

it was only natural, seeing as how he could not see your smile across the table as he ate anymore.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader #rin writes #∞ / 𝟔 𝟎 𝟎 𝟎 ⁺

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kaylorisrwal · 21 days

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Two days ago, the NFL posted a short teaser clip to get fans excited for the upcoming season. This 28-second video was shared across platforms like Twitter, TikTok, etc, and something stood out to a lot of people: Taylor Swift was shown FIVE DIFFERENT times in this brief clip. That’s more than any of the actual NFL players featured in the entire video. Naturally, people are wondering, "Why is Taylor Swift being shown so much in an NFL promo clip? Shouldn’t the focus be on the players?"

Now, this didn’t surprise me as much as it did others, and here’s why. This confirms what many of us (the more intelligent ones in the Taylor fandom) have been saying all along: Taylor Swift is in a strategic, contracted partnership with the NFL.

I believe this partnership is specifically aimed at boosting female viewership, which it already did last year. During last season, the NFL saw a massive increase in female viewers, nearly 50% of their audience. While I won’t speculate on exact percentages, it’s clear that Taylor’s presence at the games has significantly contributed to this growth. Her engagement with the games, both by attending and talking about them online, has drawn more attention to the NFL, particularly from women.

Given that, it seems highly likely we’ll be seeing a lot more of Taylor Swift at games this season. The fact that she was featured so prominently in these promotional clips suggests that her relationship with Travis Kelce isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. If there were even rumors of them “breaking up”, she wouldn’t be such a major part of the NFL’s marketing strategy.

Now, let’s take a moment to think about Miss Taylor Swift, Miss loves her money, Miss Captalist, Miss Marketing, the savvy businesswoman who once said, “Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours” and “I’ll save all my romanticism for my inner life.” Do we really think she’d allow her relationship to be used as a marketing tool by a corporation as huge as the NFL without benefiting from it in some way? And for those who aren’t aware, PR benefits go far beyond just money. It’s also about maintaining a certain image and expanding influence.

If Taylor weren’t gaining something from this arrangement, I doubt she’d let her social capital be used so freely. And the NFL isn’t just showing any famous NFL girlfriends. If they were, they would’ve included Simone Biles, who’s been in the spotlight all summer following her incredible Olympic run. She’s been supporting her husband at his NFL games, but she wasn’t featured in this promo at all. Maybe because Simone doesn’t have a contract with the NFL like Taylor does. Simone is there as a supportive wife, while Taylor is there to boost viewership and keep people talking about football.

#taylor swift #lgbetty #friends of dorothea #gaylor #nfl #kaylor

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gold-rhine · 1 year

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Inazuma Rewrite part one

This is bullet points rewrite for Inazuma general plot structure, bc I think it had so much potential, but was horrifically scuffed in game. If I keep something from canon unchanged, I’ll just say so without retelling the entire thing to keep the length down, bc it’s gonna be A LOT already.

Some disclaimers: I’m not trying to fix every single problem, just what I see as major structural failures. I will reference my problems, but you can read my explanations on them more in depth in my “inazuma ranting” tag.

This is also not envisioned as free for all fanfic where I can write whatever I want, but aimed to be actually feasible to see in game, bc it’d be unfair and I want to show that Inazuma could be improved in the same constraints that hoyo writers had. So please don’t ask why I didn’t do wildly inconsistent thing that would be cool, but genshin would never actually do.

I’m aiming to retain all relevant lore and achieve basically same worldstate in the end, including character arcs, for the most part, because I presume them to be integral to the larger strategic plotline of the game. Which means I can’t drastically change characterization and major plot beats like the decrees, rebellion, Raiden has to be a sympathetic ally in the end, etc. I’m also trying to keep genshin’s general tone and modus operandi, bc like, target audience includes 13 yolds and I can’t just “make Inazuma good” by turning it into like, a gruesome and complex power struggle of political factions like Fallout New Vegas.

List of main issues I want to address: pacing in general, rebellion pacing especially, lack of impact and continuity of effects of vision loss on people, lack of setup for the stasis vs transience aka ei vs makoto conflict, character arcs: raiden, ayaka, kazuha, kokomi, yoimiya, kujou sara. And more!

Initially I wanted to make a single post, but it’s already 3k and I’m only up to Raiden’s first duel and I plan to cover post-archon quest content too, like Raiden and Yoi story quests, so I decided to split it up instead of posting like 20k monstrosity. So remember, this is for now mostly a setup.

EDIT: Part 2

Raiden’s motivations\Reasons for vision hunt

Ok, so one of the biggest principal changes is that vision hunt and sakoku decree are active Raiden’s decisions, instead of Fatui’s plot that she’s just passively allowing to happen. Raiden closed the country, but she’s ok with Fatui starting a civil war and selling delusions, bc it doesn’t “affect eternity”, like??? I honestly think that the current plot of her people dying in a civil war meant nothing to her is much worse than her starting vision hunt decree out of misguided plan to ultimately do better for people.

I mean ok, we have to have closed borders to reference Japan’s history, sure, but like, the whole point of isolationist policies like this is to prevent the outsiders’ influence on the country. So she should not be ok with Fatui schemes at any point.

I mean, if it was fallout new vegas AU, I’d keep it to show that dictator doesn’t not care about foreign powers exploiting it’s people as long as it profits the empire and helps to keep people subjugated, but like. Then raiden can’t be uwu waifu. So we gonna give her good intentions and integrity, but misunderstanding of humanity due to closing herself off instead.

Now to why would she close the country and institute sakoku decree. I want to tie this in with another plotline that is just. Kinda floating at sidelines at the moment, but I think could work nicely in tandem. The Scaramouche destroying Raiden Gokaden, the five schools of weapon smithing, which were canonically highly valued by Raiden.

I’m not gonna recount Scara’s entire plotline, but basically he went on a misguided crusade against Raiden Gokaden and managed to cause fall of 4 out of 5 weapon-smith schools.

Game says that he like, tampered with the schools and covertly led to their ruin, which like?? They never found anyone guilty, like the most prized weapon art smiths of your country fall apart and you’re like oh well, I guess Yashiro commission is just bad at it’s job?

There is a plot point in this story where Isshin weapon smiths, unable to replicate a faulty design that was Raiden’s commission tampered by Scara, were scared of Raiden’s wrath and decided to flee to Snezhnaya. I want to change it to be that there is an event, where ALL weapon schools receive same commission at the same time, and Scara tampers with it.

Just as in canon, scared smiths, but now from 4 schools, not one, are manipulated by Fatui to flee to Snezhnaya, But we add a new NPC, the most talented blade smith who had a vision. Fatui frame him as the ring leader, as if they were running not to save their lives because of the tampered design, impossible to fulfil, but that this was a betrayal because of his ambitions.

After this, Raiden has legitimate cause to feel like her eternity is threatened. She sees weapon art schools, one of the most prized country’s traditions being ruined in a moment because of what she thinks is ambitious hubris of one vision holder, who colluded with outsiders. So she closes Inazuma and declares a vision hunt, to prevent this from ever happening again.

But ironically, in truth it was the fault of not just Fatui, but specifically a puppet without a vision that she herself created and failed to supervise. This brings the main idea of the plotline from “Fatui evil, Raiden passive” to “Solipsist goddess who doesn’t understand humanity tries to protect her people by locking them in stasis and taking their ambitions, but the real case of tragedy was her negligence and lack of empathy all along, and this is what needs to be changed.”

Interlude and plot setup

We start with similar plotline. Traveler tries to go to Inazuma, learns that it’s closed, talks to Inazuman NPC to learn more. Here we’re introduced to the general idea that Inazuma was closed off due to one traitor blade smith with a vision who sold off Raiden Gokaden to Fatui.

We go to Beidou’s tournament, which goes basically the same, we meet Kazuha and watch a beautiful cutscene about his dead friend who challenged Raiden to a duel, and now Kazuha tries to find someone who can reignite his vision. I will actually add changes to Kazuha’s storyline, but it be will later.

then we arrive to Inazuma, go through the same bureaucracy loops with Thoma on Ritou, to show the barriers to outsiders and also to illustrate how Thoma is the best fixer when he manages to drop a fee from 1 mil to like 10 gold by promising to have a dinner with government official.

But we’re cutting the second part of Ritou, with the boring plot about like merchant from Mond scamming people with the local police and then Traveler delivering love letter or whatever. I mean, we can keep this as an optional side quest, if like hoyo thinks the lore about love letter is essential for the Ayato’s quest or smth, but not as an Archon quest.

Instead, we put a part of Yoimiya’s quest there. I think Yoi’s quest is relevant enough to stay in the Archon quest, unlike Ayaka’s, but it’s slapped into a place where it ruins pacing. So instead, we’re cutting it up in parts and inserting it into main storyline.

On Ritou, while doing bureaucracy bullshit, we meet Yoimiya, and play the part of her quest about her helping a guy with a vision to escape from his former best friend, who is now a guard hunting him. It helps to show the rift that vision hunt brings not only with the outsiders, but with inside of the country as well.

Ghost of Makoto\Transience setup

another key point that I think is integral to fixing Inazuma is planting seeds for Makoto’s reveal from the start. I really like the Stasis vs Transience conflict from raiden’s second story quest, where raiden believed in eternity as lack of change, a perfect state maintained until the rest of time, while her twin Makoto believed in eternity as never-ending change, where people’s dreams constantly evolve, nature of them chasing these dreams never changes.

but it feels like it came out of nowhere and raiden just speedruns character development in like an hour, so a lot of people ended up feeling like it was just about Raiden mourning her sister, instead of raiden coming to understand makoto’s belief system and through that unlocking makoto’s final connection and then being able to let go.

so we need to first of all, introduce makoto’s ideas of transience from the start, and also empathize the conflict of them with raiden’s stasis.

and it doesn’t mean we’ll spoil the reveal about the second raiden shogun! we don’t have to ever use makoto’s name, just her title as a raiden and sprinkle her ideas throughout the land. We know hoyo area designers can do that stuff really well (guizhong’s relics being scattered all over liyue, rukkhadevata’s shadow in the aranara quest).

like, it’s strange that Makoto primarily ruled and shaped country by herself while Ei was just a warrior, yet we do not have Makoto’s influence visible. We need to add ideas of transience into fundamentals of Inazuma,

“Transience is the dream of the nation of thunder. We find the greatest joys in mortal life in fleeting dreams, for is life itself not like the shadow of the thunder? Pursue your dreams into the clouds if you wish, and enjoy the unexpected silence of the dim lamp-lit nights.” - Guide to Transience talent book.

add these ideas all over the place, esp near sakura. And let’s draw player’s attention a couple of times specifically to the internal contradiction of these ideas of transience being integral to inazuma and raiden’s current hatred of change.

like, we need even 13 yolds and twitch streamers to remember this, so lets make paimon say like

“Huh, this shrine to raiden shogun says that eternity is the pursuit of fleeting dreams, but doesn’t raiden shogun fucking hates dreams?? I wonder, what made her change her mind about them to the total opposite!“

this and more subtle puzzles\locations with focus on transience for people who pay more attention will add the much needed setup for makoto’s reveal

Kamisato siblings

ok, first things first, Ayato being absent without any explanation while his little sister is plotting treason and his malewife Thoma is about to be executed on the streets is unacceptable.

like I know it’s marketing or whatever and he’s not being released but we need his model, hoyo. If we 200% CAN’T have his model, we need to come up with solid excuse why he’s not here. Like idk, he’s helping the war refugees or smth

And we need hints at his presence\influence throughout the story. Like oh, here’s group of refugees who were helped by Yashiro commissioner, they are relocating to new homes, I guess Ayato is really busy. Oh, here is Fatui’s camp where everyone is slaughtered and boba tea cups are littered around, I wonder what is up with that.

and also, Ayaka is organizing resistance behind his back, and we never meet him bc Ayaka actively tries to hide traveler from him.

bc like, Ayaka doesn’t have a development arc in archon quest. She’s just kind of there, being perfect. Like in her story quest that hoyo makes you do at gun point, you like, go on a date, learn that she’s lonely and has trouble connecting with people due to the pressure of having to project an image of perfection and societal distance, do an investigation to uncover her late mother’s fox fursona roleplay diary which she used to cope her with own societal pressure. Which like. Ok, sure, but but this wet socks quest is not an archon quest material. It should be just a normal story quest.

no, Ayaka’s real conflict is wanting to prove herself to her brother, bring real difference to the world. This is her ambition, she literally gained her vision while fighting Ayato in a training, she wanted to show him that she’s strong enough to handle responsibility, he named her Shirasagi Himegimi after she won that fight

but during a civil war, watching people suffer, her role as a cultural figurehead is not enough. She wants to help, but she’s afraid to act, because this will undermine Yashiro Commission and her brother worked so hard to build it back up after Raiden Gokaden fall. so she organizes resistance behind her brother’s back in secret, to help, but without compromising Kamisato name

this basically tracks with what happens in game, but we spell it out and expand on this later.

Getting Traveler to help

next, let’s throw out the weird edging introduction where traveler is not allowed to see Ayaka the first time. like??? bro, we’re friends with 2 archons and heads of their governments, you’re not that important. and it can’t be to protect her identity, bc like. You go to Kamisato estate! You’re told who she is! If you wanted to betray her, that would be enough already.

another awkward thing is that Traveler, who agrees to do every stupid quest they meet, suddenly refuses to help the resistance.

I think we should reframe their convo a little, like Traveler says hey I’d love to help, but my primary goal is to get info about my sibling from an Archon, so I don’t want to go against her.

To which Ayaka says oh, I totally get you, you see, I am myself a culture figurehead and a nominal princess and I can’t speak up against the decree, bc that will hurt Yashiro Commission. But I’m not asking you to fight Raiden Shogun in a duel or smth, I’m just asking you to help people with the resistance, which we do totally in secret. No one will know! Also, how are you going to see Raiden? She’s locked up and doesn’t appear in public. But my big brother is a head of the Commission, if anyone can get you an audience, it’s him. So help me help people and I will ask him to help you see Shogun!

she secretly believes that after traveler sees ppl suffering, they will change their mind and help willingly, same as in canon, but she’s more subtle about it

Rebellion connection

my other problem with vision hunt is that the 3 quests they force you to do about meeting people who lost their visions are like. not good. The concept is interesting, but they are just kinda boring and meandering. They lack dramatic impact. They could do better. So we’re not doing these 3 quests rn, but don’t worry about it, we will get to the effects of vision loss

Instead, ayaka sends us to help Yoimiya and we do the same quest we do in archon quest - help her to free someone from prison dungeon. It goes the same, we get to the dude being mistreated by cops, Kujou Sara steps up and lets us go

But then it’s like, we need to get this dude out of Inazuma city. Cops know he escaped! They will just come for him again! There is only one place that will take him and it’s the watatsumi rebels.

Common complaint about Inazuma is that other countries feel like found families and Inazuma doesn’t, bc characters from resistance and rebellion basically don’t interact, and it’s true. And like, we can get them together! Thoma knows Kazuha, Kazuha knows Gorou, Gorou in canon went to recoinsanse missions to Narukami island.

So, Gorou visits the tea house to pick up the Vision Dude, and the gang has the hotpot meet up. Everyone is there (except Kokomi bc ok hoyo, we’re saving up for dramatic battle reveal, and i think her reveal would fuck up banner schedule). Ayaka, Thoma, Yoimiya, Kazuha, Gorou. and Teppei! Who is here bc he was recruited by Gorou. He’s actually from Narukami island, not Watatsumi, and he had nothing to do with visions, but he’s an idealist, he believes in freedom, so he joined rebellion. fun times are had, Ayaka tries to play srs bsns lady host, but breaks into giggling at The Shenanigans, Gorou is overly polite but adorable and apologizes to Ayaka about The Shenanigans in which everyone but him participates, Yoi is a life of party and the Shenanigans and later has to be bodily stopped by Kazuha from organizing fireworks right here, right now, Thoma and Teppei both get sick from eating Ayaka’s nasty cakes that she threw into soup, bc Thoma is just into oral stuff and Teppei is so earnest and eager to prove himself and impress ppl, haha comic relief, look how sweet and funny this guy is and all characters get along so great with him

bc like, I think Teppei has a problem of a) not having enough screen time b)not having any interesting characterization moments to make him stand out 3)not having other playable and already likeable characters interact with him

so this scene can serve not only to bring that “unlikely bunch of people becoming friends and working together” connection to life, but also to endear Teppei to the players

Vision Loss Effects\ Yoimiya and Thoma

ok, next Ayaka asks Traveler to do that one quest about martial arts master losing their vision. I think it’s the one quest from 3 about vision loss with most drama, but the real reason is that it introduces Yae Miko and we need to do this before leaving for the rebellion. Like, in theory, it could be switched to another, better quest that lets us meet Yae Miko, but honestly, this is not one of Inazuma archon quest problems so I can’t be arsed. Feel free to imagine a cooler intro instead.

when we go back to tea house, we learn that Yoimya’s vision has been taken away. She has been recognized in that last prison raid and the guards came for her later, and she didn’t fight bc there were kids and her old father around.

She’s completely changed. Her innate optimism, her belief in people and their dreams has been drained from her like a sunshine from a dark cellar. But she’s still Yoimiya!! She came here to warn you bc she still cares even if she had her own joy taken from her. She tries to smile and reassure you that it’s ok, she’s fine, but her smile is visibly strained, she’s never had to fake it before so she doesn’t know how. She wears a vision, but it’s a fake one, because her pops said that maybe having it here would help and she agreed, tried to pretend for him that it does help, bu. It very obviously doesn’t.

Ayaka is horrified. She apologizes to Yoimiya, tries to think of ways to help her, but Yoi just laughs humorlessly. “It won’t ever touch you, princess.”

She’s immediately disgusted at herself and apologizes, tries to take it back, this isn’t her, she would never say this, and not to her friend! But also, it’s so hard to care now and she can’t remember why it’s so important to care at all.

Ayaka is shaken. Bc it’s true! She is a privileged noble, vision hunt will not come for her! She is playing at the resistance from the safety of anonymity, while people like Yoimiya actually risk themselves and pay the price!

And this is when the news that Thoma was arrested and about to be 100th vision taken at the feet of the statue comes. Tenryou commission truly strikes back.

Ayaka is in uproar. She’s ready to go herself and fight for Thoma, especially after Yoi’s words. She’s sick and tired of being a perfect princess, she can’t allow any more of her friends, her family come to harm because they don’t have her protection. Clearly Thoma being a theatrical execution is a blow specifically against Yashiro commission and Kamisato family in particular, and if Shogun has beef with her, well, she can settle it with HER instead of going after her friends!

Traveler stops her. This is what they want. If Ayaka openly moves against the Shogun, the entire Yashiro commission falls. Even if Ayaka is in the right! No, it’s the Traveler who will go to save Thoma

But traveler needs raiden’s good will for the info, they can’t confront raiden openly, it was the deal from the start!

But at this point traveler has seen too much, the divide in the country, the change and suffering of their own friends, and they can’t allow all of Yashiro commission take the fall.

This is when the Traveler decides to take a stand.

ACT 2

#rhine talks #inazuma ranting #genshin impact #rhine lore study #rhine writes

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