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youraverageaemondsimp · 5 months

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Song of Ice and Fire // Aemond Targaryen x Stark!Reader.

WARNINGS: afab!reader, mdni, SMUT, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, tiddy sucking, breeding kink, blackmail (not directed at reader), extreme canon divergence, simp!aemond(?), aemond is lowkey manipulative, mentions of war, prophecy bs, + not proofread.

WC: 2.5k

A/N: I said a short fic of "1k words" but then I got carried away 💀💀 divider credits: @cafekitsune

“From my blood come the prince that was promised, and his will be the song of ice and fire”

Those words rang in Aemond’s ears as he flew on his dragon, when he accidentally overheard his father reciting the prophecy on his bed in a moment of absolute vulnerability.

It was one of many things on his mind as he flew to the north with Vhagar, having recently disinherited Rhaenyra by placing aegon on the throne, they planned to not worry about the starks too much, but Aemond knew how much of a threat they were, considering they rule the entirety of the north, and could easily overpower them in manpower.

Which is exactly why he took his dragon and flew north immediately, and sent Daeron in his stead to secure Baratheon's loyalty.

He was not unprepared, in fact, he knew he had an advantage, which was his relationship with Cregan’s younger sister, you, who is the apple of his eye. Aemond remembers seeing you during one of the banquets and immediately taking note of your accent, which screamed that you were from the the north and his suspicions were only confirmed when one of the guards who were sent to investigate your suspicious presence came to him with the conclusion that you were indeed from the north, what was unexpected was you turning out to be cregan’s younger sister.

He remembers being smitten with you, after all you were not only beautiful but also had impressed him with your confidence and personality, something that seemed to be the trait of starks. He knew asking for your hand in marriage would secure connections with the Starks, yet his mother declined, telling him that it would be impossible to make Cregan agree with this marriage. Which obviously soured his mood.

Yet that would not be the last of your ‘interaction’, Aemond had actually approached you before, and you took quite the liking to him, you enjoyed his company whilst you stayed at the keep, he was calm, collected yet oozed off an aura that makes every shut their mouths when he enters a room. You took a liking to him.

Though you had left the keep after the ceremonies had ended, you and Aemond exchanged letters quite frequently and privately, over the course of a few months, and sometimes even sneaking off to have a little rendezvous with him, obviously by lying to your brother, you and him have gotten closer quite significantly, and you were waiting for him to ask your hand in marriage. So imagine your surprise and anxiety when you heard the news of Rhaenyra being usurped on the morrow of a fine day, only to receive a letter from Aemond on the eve, which read that he will be coming to the north soon in a few days. You had expected his arrival, but realised that Cregan didn’t, so you immediately rushed to tell him that Aemond would be coming only to find a squire sent from the Targaryen family that did your job for you.

And so you awaited the day he finally came here, and when you heard the dragon's roar in skies, you knew he had come, you waited in your room patiently likely knowing that Aemond and your brother are discussing the matters

“You want me to support your drunken brother’s claim over Rhaenyra? Our family swore an oath to her claim, and if there is one thing the starks are known for, it is not for being turncloaks.” Cregan’s voice boomed loudly as he grit his teeth, trying not to lunge at him, Aemond knew that of course, which is why he was prepared. “Not even if I tell you that your sister has my seed possibly taking root in her womb?” Aemond crosses his leg on his sitting chair, tilting his head sideways as he watches Cregan’s eyes widen. “You’re lying, you and my sister have never interacted.” Cregan says slowly, almost as if trying to convince himself that it wasn't true rather than accusing Aemond of lying. Well, yeah Aemond was lying, but it was the only way. “Not in front of you, at least..” Aemond trails off and Cregan immediately asks someone to fetch you.

And so here you are walking through the hallways and going to the room where Aemond and your brother were currently talking. The moment you enter the room, Cregan’s head snaps towards you, “Is it true?” He asks, but you had no idea what your brother was talking about, and then you came to the conclusion that Aemond probably told your brother about your secret relationship, “Yes.” You said before your brother can ask you any more questions “Since when?” he grits his teeth, “For a while, we have been meeting up occasionally as well.” You tell your brother, and Cregan sighs heavily, you turn to look at Aemond whose gaze was already on you, he gave you his signature smirk which made you blush and look away, you were not privy to know what Aemond had actually said. “I need.. Time to process this, till then you can…stay here.” Cregan says reluctantly and Aemond nods.

Just then, the guard comes rushing in, “My lord, prince Jacaerys is to be arriving here soon, i have just received the word.” Cregan wishes the world collapsed on him right now, knowing that he’s under so much pressure.

“Escort prince Aemond to the guest chambers.” he commands the guard and the guard nods, you leave along with him as well.

The night falls quickly, the air becoming much colder than before, Vhagar has flown off into the sky, unable to stand the coldness and settled somewhere warm, while you sit in your chambers undoing your braids, thoughts filled with nothing but the interaction between your brother and Aemond.

You hear gentle knocks on the door of your chamber, you get up from your vanity and make your way towards it before opening it, only to find Aemond standing there, your eyes widened and you quickly pull him inside, making sure nobody saw him and shutting the door behind you.

He walks into your room casually, taking a look at your chambers and noting everything down, “What are you doing here this late My prince? It is unseemly.” You slightly shout at him in a shocked tone, “Unseemly? Has my lady forgotten the moments of passion we shared during our secret meetings?” He raises an eyebrow and you blush, heat rising in your cheeks, you and Aemond did share a few kisses but that was all, and that too were done in private. “No, but it was away from the prying eyes of everyone.” You interject, “We are away from the prying eyes now as well, we are alone.” He steps closer to you, his presence oddly proving you with warmth.

When he notices that you are not stepping away, he wraps his hands around your waist and pulls you closer, pushing your body against his, you place your arms on his chest to maintain balance as he stares into your eyes.

“What did you tell my brother? He didn't argue at all.” You ask him as he bends down a little to place kisses to your cheek, trailing down to your jaw, “Aemond.” You say his name which makes him smirk but he continues to kiss you, face buried in the crook of your neck, you sight sweetly when you feel him suck on your sweet spot.

“I just… told something that will be true in a few months.” He replies and you furrow your eyebrows and slightly nudge him away, causing him to pull away, “And what exactly is it?” You question sternly, your frustration now evident because of the fact that something is being hidden from you.

Aemond sighs, his hand trails down before resting on your lower abdomen, “I might have lied about you being pregnant with my child.” he whispers in your ear and you gasp, “That is not true, we haven't–”

“We have not, but I had to stoop that low, otherwise he wouldn't have even considered my proposal.” He cuts you off, “If he gets a maester to check, we are done for.” You tell him and he chuckles, “I didn't mention that you were confirmed to be with my child, just that I have seeded you with the possibility of you being with my child.” He explains and you sigh in annoyance.

“Besides, It can always become true.”

You blink, “Surely you don't mean–” and before you could complete your sentence, he cuts you off, “I mean exactly what you are assuming.” His voice goes down an octave, sounding deeper as his intentions turn darker.

He lifts you up and carries you towards the bed and places you atop it, you stare at him with your eyes wide, “Aemond, it is wrong.” You protest, “Tell me my love, do you want it or not?” He questions and you fall silent, “We are yet to be man and wife, it is against the tradition-”

“I asked whether you wanted it or not, it is a yes or no question my lady, if it is a yes, I will continue, but if it is a no, I will leave your room immediately.” He cuts you off and you swallow thickly, you rub your thighs together in an attempt to get rid of the ache that had been itching since the moment he touched you.

“Yes, I want it.” You mutter and in mere moments he's on top of you, pulling off the strings and removing your bodice, he showers kisses to each and every inch of your exposed skin as his hands make quick work of removing your clothing, you aid him in doing so until you are completely bare and vulnerable beneath him.

He presses his lips against yours, you kiss back as your lips dance against each other's in rhythm, his hands trails upwards your body before grabbing your breast and giving a squeeze, you groan into the kiss as he pinches your nipple. He pulls back from the kiss before kissing the side of your mouth, and trailing down to your jaw, to your neck before stopping at your breast to place a few wet kisses on them, he takes one of your nipple in his mouth, and swirling his tongue around the nub before he pulls back with a wet pop and continues his trail of kisses down to your cunt.

He sighs in content as the sight of your glistening cunt, coated with your essence of arousal and without any warning he dives right in, indulging himself in the sweet taste of you.

You let out a loud gasp when you feel his mouth on your warm core, mind unable to comprehend what he is trying to do, yet feeling satisfied at the way his mouth moves on you. His tongue lick a long strip from your hole to your clit before he takes your clit in his mouth, sucking on the bud and nibbling it between his teeth, this sends sparks of pleasure combined with a dribble of pain as your hand flies to grip his head, not knowing whether to push him away or pull him further in. His hands wrap around from underneath your thighs and he pushes himself further in, as if he's trying to bury himself in you.

His tongue flicks against your clit constantly and you can feel a certain something approaching, and with one last final suck from him; you are sent over the edge with a loud moan as your high hits you extremely fast. You almost crush his head with your thighs because of the intensity of your peak.

He gives few final licks before pull away and getting on his haunches, you watch he undoes his breeches in a haste, “Fuck- can't hold back anymore.” He mutters and he pulls his cock free of its confines and lines it up against your entrance, yet he doesn't push in, he instead rubs his cock and nudges your clit with his tip, coating his dick in your juices.

“Aemond- please.” You beg, aching to have something inside of you, and he looks at you before cursing and lining his cock against your entrance, you mentally prepare yourself for it to hurt.

And seven hells does it hurt so much, yet the stretch was so delicious as the same time, your toes in curl pleasure combined with pain as he stretches you out on his cock, you gasp when he fully sheathes himself inside you, feeling as if thought he had entered inside of your stomach, though it is impossible.

He gives you time to adjust, and you with a nod of your head, you encourage him to move, you had had expected him to start off slow, but his patience had run thin, so instead you were met with an almost animalistic and brutal pace, he threw your legs over his shoulders as he pounded into you, hands grabbing all the available flesh of your body.

The bed creaks from the movement happening on top of it, you grip the sheets below tightly and throw your head when his tip hits a certain sweet spot inside of you, whimpering when he repeatedly rams at it.

“Going to breed you alright? ‘m going to have you bear many of my children.” He grunts, moaning when he feels your walls clench around him, “Yes–! Aemond, do as you please– ohh fuck!” You moan loudly when another wave of orgasm crashes over you, back arching as the peak was more intense than before, making you see white.

“Fuck- I'm coming, can't wait to watch you swell with my child, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He growls loudly when he reaches his peak, his hot spend painting your walls, he waits and collects his composure before pulling out, and you sigh in content yet disappointment, immediately missing the feeling of having him inside you.

He lays right next to you in bed and pulls you close, placing gentle kisses to your forehead.

“You'll give me the prince that was promised, our child will be the prince that Aegon the Conqueror has prophesied, and his will be the song of ice and fire.” He suddenly speaks to you and you stare up at him, “Prince that was promised?” You question and he nods,

“You are the ice to my fire, and from us will come a prince that will save the realm from destruction.” He tells you and you remain silent, still not understanding all of this prophecy of the Targaryens, but nevertheless nodding, “You'll melt me, you know.” You jest and he lets out a small chuckle, “That's exactly what I did right now.” he presses a kiss to your forehead once again.

Cregan stark had no other choice but to accept the proposal, rejecting Jacaerys words, it hurt Cregan, knowing they'll forever be branded as turn cloaks, yet he couldn't let his sister suffer from the words of the realm if she did happen to be with Aemond's child.

And so, the starks supported the greens, making them win the war, but it wasn't too long before Aegon had died of alcohol poisoning, and with no surviving heirs, Aemond inherited the iron throne.

GENERAL TAGLIST !

@watercolorsky @cl-0-vr @chompchompluke @namelesslosers @snowystark @spookyaemond @sweethoneyblossom1 @this-isnt-madness @persephonerinyes @eltherevir @sidni3003 @aleidag1rly @cryingforlife @fan-goddess @hannaeditzs @grungegrrrl @thekinslayersswordhand @aemondsbabygirl

Bold is who I can't tag ; DM to be removed!

— ! ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡

#aemond targaryen x reader smut #aemond x reader smut #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen x you #house of the dragon smut #aemond smut #hotd smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #x reader smut #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x y/n

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radiant-reid · 1 year

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Apple Slices

him being the dadest dad ever

just a blurb based on this

"Did you know that the US is the second-largest producer of apples?" Spencer asks as he chops up the fruit, skillfully gliding the knife to cut out the seeds. He was never a big fruit eater- or an eater at all -until Dakota and Payton came along, but now he's the expert apple cutter.

"I did not know that." You admit, running your hand over his back once you put two pink plastic plates in front of him to put the apples. "Did you girls know that?" You ask the twins sitting on the opposite side of the kitchen island.

They both shake their heads, replying identically. "Nope."

His voice gets all excited as he continues talking, waving his hands around instead of holding the knife. "Yeah, they're grown in every state, too, and almost 100 varieties are sold... you know, never mind." The way he stops is sudden and he shuts down like you've seen him do in front of other people.

"What, Daddy?" Dakota asks, scrunching her nose adorable.

"I want to know." Payton agrees.

Spencer's eyes water, face softening as he melts. The girls don't notice, but you do. He feels so much love and gratitude in just a second. Finally, after so many years of people ignoring him or telling him not to talk, people want to listen to him. In fact, his favorite people want to listen to him. The family you've built together is everything he's ever wanted.

You move to wrap your arms around his waist, leaning into his chest.

He gulps down tears. "Commercially." He finishes.

"You're so smart, Daddy," Payton tells him.

"I love listening to what you say." Dakota agrees.

He still looks like he's about to cry, smiling softly. "We're so lucky." You add on to their list of compliments.

Spencer shakes his head. "I'm the lucky one."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds

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madkiska · 7 months

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watching the entirety of jrwi: riptide again. here's some important things from the first few episodes that I feel we forgot (<110 mentions too though)

Jay

Had night terrors similar to those of Kubakinta's curse in episode 5, and they eventually start returning even after Loffinlot's curse is lifted ○ All of them were about her family and/or the navy ○ I simply think people leave her out of the nightmare stuff and she deserves it. Hurt her more, please (he said, lovingly)

was actually very upset at having to use her medal to get a Loffinlot rebellion to shut up ○ This could be because she didn't want them to guess she was a spy, but I choose to believe it's because she felt guilty

"If you're gonna be sailing with someone, you should have a good relationship with them. [nervous chuckle]." She says, while asking him for information about the Black Rose Pirates (ep. 10)

Said "thank god they didn't find me" after a nightmare about the navy attacking. Even when she was supposedly a spy, who one day would have to return to the navy ○ Very unclear if she was scared of her dad, or if it's because she was a secret spy so the navy would've just killed her

Rewatching, she was suspiciously into the plundering and gold and stuff. Like that was real sus. It doesn't fit her current character much

The only one among them who's gambled before

Chip

The entire thing literally starts off with Bizly holding a lit match

Called Gillion "Gill" and Jay "Sureshot" from an early stage

Was SO much more of a bastard. Lied to Gill constantly, didn't care about anything but the money, etc.

Had aggressive hand tremors alongside Jay's night terrors ○ Gill cures it with lay on hands

When he gets drunk married, they talk extensively about how he'd be released when he's dead. Welp.

They did actually break up and it was fine and they were still friends. They parted on good terms

Is really fucking good at chess ○ Beat Earl twice and Jay once. Jay had a point of exhaustion after a nightmare but Earl had no excuse ○ Lost to Gillion though, but only cause of prophetic screwup ○ This kid is smarter than he lets on, y'all

Was the first one to have a backstory dump while Jay is asking him about the Black Rose Pirates, yet still we know jack shit about his life before them other than "orphan"

Gill

Charlie has referred to Gillion with 'they' many times. I can pull receipts.

When describing Gill, Charlie said: "He's more.. elven, if you had to make a comparison. 'Cause I don't wanna be a fish guy". Oh, honey.

Smote a bald person by using his hair as a whip (ep. 4)

Was given anxiety and self-doubt alongside jay's night terrors and chip's tremors ○ "What do you want?" "I want the feeling of satisfaction I've been chasing my whole life." ○ This was episode FIVE.

First mention of the prophecy and how Gillion wasn't their ideal student is ep. 7, after he divine smites + prophetic screwups and deals like 60 damage to some beetles ○ Chip spends the next 30 seconds in gay awe

He refers to the crescent moon Niklaus tattoo as "my zodiac" (probably a bit) ○ It's not a lil basic white girl moon this thing is the entire size of his forearm

Gill had never heard about the Black Sea - it's unclear if the Undersea just don't know, or if that's just how sheltered he was (ep. 10)

Biz: "What would Gillion do. If he just had no goal - was just sitting there." "Gillion always has a goal." "Would his goal ever be to just.. Sit there?" "Absolutely not." ○ Later, Chip expresses that he doesn't know what Gillion likes. What he would want out of winning a bet. Gillion doesn't have an answer

Other

Apple, in a couple of early battles, acted like Gill's familiar (see: ep. 7)

They also pecked at his Niklaus tramp stamp and looked all confused at the idea of eating seeds

The specific crescent of the moon in the Niklaus tattoo is known as a symbol of "corruption" (ep. 9) and its antonym is the sun, for "life", similar to the yin and yang ○ Interesting to consider after what the tree said in 110 <_<

Pretzel has a masters degree in couple's therapy (ep. 10)

The Albatross/Millennium Chipper was described as the colour of rosewood or mahogany

Captain Lizzie's first introduction was a wanted poster, and Chip wanted to turn her in for the prize, then decided to try learn from her instead

Chip/Bizly called Old Man Earl "Erol" for a loooong time ○ Maybe it's an accent thing but I have an uncle called Erol and so this stands out to me

#I have lots of thoughts about all of this #jay also got her gun in like ep 1 but didnt use it for ages #idk. it's unclear with the combat in the beginning. she just says “shoot”. i love her anyway #jay the kinda girl to have a “no boys” sign up but then when she meets chip and gill she changes it to “son boy” like that one meme #theyre all my favourite character #not art #jrwi riptide #jrwi show #jrwi jay #jrwi chip #jrwi gillion #jay ferin #chip bastard #gillion tidestrider #jrwi #just roll with it #just roll with it show #just roll with it riptide

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cheeekycharchar · 9 months

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The Forbidden Fruit, Choices and Fear

[A GOOD OMENS META ANALYSIS OF AZIRAPHALE POST S2] I know everyone is still upset about that gut punch of an ending to GO S2.. and many are also extra upset at Aziraphale.. I'm in so much pain over it too but.. I have to rationalize that damned "I forgive you" line that broke all our hearts to comfort me until we get S3.. I basically overanalyze our favorite cocoa loving Angel to explain his reaction to the kiss and why we all need to be a lil kinder to him.

2500 BC in the Land of Uz.. Aziraphale, the Angel of the Eastern Gate, had the fear of God put into him. And this affected the rest of his immortal life up until that kiss.

Angels, after the Fall and the great war between Heaven and Hell, had the fear of the Almighty's wrath put into them. They all fell in line and stayed in line. Or else they'd end up like their fallen brethren.. or worse. But there was one lil Angel that had since toed that line..

"Didn't you have a flaming sword? Yeah, it was flaming like anything." "…Gaveitaway.." "You what?" "I gave it away!" As far as we've seen, this is the first time Aziraphale did something "bad". And he's already feeling the pressure. The guilt. The fear. He didn't follow the rules. He didn't do exactly as he was told. And suddenly, here's a Demon slithering up next to him and making him doubt his choice even more. The same Demon that snuck past the guardians of Eden and tempted the first human's into eating the apple, breaking the rules and getting them kicked out of paradise on Earth.

"Bit of an over reaction if you ask me. First offence and everything. I can't see what's so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil anyway. "Well, it must be bad.. [..] Otherwise.. you wouldn't have tempted them into it." "Not very subtle of the Almighty, though. Fruit tree in the middle of a garden with a 'Don't Touch' sign. Makes you wonder what God's really planning." "Best not to speculate. It's all part of the Great Plan. It's not for us to understand. It's ineffable. It is beyond understand and incapable of being put into words."

Already the seeds of doubt are tinkering in his mind. Stay in line. No more questioning the Almighty's plans. That's what got all the bad Angels thrown out of Heaven and then Adam and Eve exiled too.

"I do hope I didn't do the wrong thing." "Oh, you're an angel. I don't think you can do the wrong thing." "Oh, thank you. It's been bothering me." "I've been worrying, too. What if I did the right thing with the whole 'eat the apple' business? A demon can get into a lot of trouble for doing the right thing. It'd be funny if we both got it wrong, eh? If I did the good thing and you did the bad one." *chuckles* "..No. It wouldn't be funny at all!"

And then we get to season two's opening reveal. Crowley and Aziraphale had actually met before the wall of Eden.

"But that's idiocy!" {…} "It's not our job to advise the Almighty on the details of creation." "Well, then whose job is it?" {…} "Well, if I was the one running it all, I'd like it if someone asked questions. Fresh point of view."

And thanks to Aziraphale mentioning the Great Plan to Angel Crowley.. it put seeds of doubt into his mind. Making him question the Almighty's plans.

".. I'd hate to see you getting into any trouble." "Thanks for your help. And thanks for your advice. I wouldn't worry though. How much trouble can I get into just for asking a few questions?"

And then 10 million Angels fell. Kicked out of Heaven and marked as evil, unforgivable, and without God's love for eternity. Then we get the flashback to the story of a a prosperous man of outstanding piety named Job and how his life was destroyed because of a bet between God and Satan to test his faith even in adversity.

"What did he [Job] do? "Job? Nothing. Job's the nicest man in the world. That's why he's so perfect for the bet. You see, God was saying how righteous Job was and how much Job loved God. And Satan pointed out-- that maybe that was just 'cause God's been so nice to him. ..God's letting Satan destroy everything Job has. And then we'll see."

Now remember, the great flood wasn't too long ago. Where the Almighty wiped out nearly all of the human race with a big storm cause they were tetchy aka simply irritable, bad-tempered and annoyed. So this time, Aziraphale actually questions Heaven about this bet when he finds out that Job's children will be killed.

"Trust in God's plan, Aziraphale. Always." "Of course. So, once Job's trials are over, everything is restored to him?" "Even better than that. God will reward him with twice as much as he had before." {…} "I think they quite like the old ones [Job's children].. And if.. we kill them-" "-Aziraphale… we are the good guys. We're not killing anyone. What we are doing is simply not stopping hell. What they do is up to them."

His faith is wavering. He can hardly believe that Heaven would actually destroy a good man's family without truly understanding the fragility and consequences of human life/death; all to test him on a bet.

"Are we sure that Sitis wants to give birth four more times?"

Furthermore, they would be forcing Job's wife to give birth 7 more times despite Aziraphale's warning of them loving their original 3 children and that Sitis may not actually want to give birth to more children at her age. Hence taking away her choice. But thankfully, good ol' Crowley is the worst demon ever and is secretly protecting Job's children and goats. Something they're keeping between the two of them. And then during this deception… Crowley tempts Aziraphale with his first bite of food.

"Have an ox rib." "Are you trying to tempt me?" "Not at all. Angels can't be tempted, can you?" "Certainly not." "Well, there you are then. You're free to try the food."

A temptation he quickly falls into. A choice to eat the food and enjoy it to gluttony. Another sin under his belt. In the end, Virtuous Job passed his test but had the shit reward in return. Except Crowley and Aziraphale secretly saved the children.. which lead to Aziraphale lying straight to Heaven.. again.

And this is where he finally falls apart.

"I'm ready to go." "Go where?" "To Hell." {….} "But you have to. I'm like you now.. A demon.." "You think you're a demon?" "I'm a fallen angel! I lied.. To thwart the will of God." "Well yeah, you did, but I'm not gonna tell anybody. ..Are you?" *shakes head no* "No. Then nothing has to change, does it?" "…But what am I?" "You're just an angel who goes along with Heaven as far as he can." "That sounds um.." "Lonely?" "Yeah. But you said it wasn't." "I'm a demon. I lied."

As Crowley always tells him- Demons lie. And Aziraphale lied. Again. And now they're keeping this huge secret between the two of them. To never be spoken of or else possibly face the wrath of God. THIS scene right in this minisode here is SUCH an important part of Aziraphale's character and his future choices. And that's what it's all about, isn't it? Choices? The ability to choose between good and evil.

"Look, I am good. You, I'm afraid, are evil. But people get a choice. You know, they cannot be truly holy unless they also get the opportunity to be wicked." "Yeah, that only works if you start everyone off equal. You can't start someone off like that and expect her to do as well as someone born in a castle." "Ah, but no, no. That's the good bit. The lower you start, the more opportunities you have."

What we learn from this wee Scottish body snatching story is that something can be seen as evil but could actually be a good deed from a different perspective. And that Aziraphale truly believed that the lower you start, the more opportunities you could have. But he also believes in divine punishment. Punishment that can be dealt at any time for any thing. Big or small. From a few questions that make you lose God's love to selling corpses for survival money and accidentally getting your best friend killed or just having too much faith in God could destroy everything in your life for a bet. All of which he has witnessed with someone good (Crowley, Job, Elspeth, etc) losing everything that's important to them in the most horribly way. But Aziraphale remembers the hard lessons he learned; of inequality and responsibility of your actions and the choices you make.

Someone born into poverty doesn't get as much out of life as someone born into a rich lifestyle. Or.. a lowly snake and a lowly principality falling in love and being forgiven may not be as easily dismissed as a Duke of Hell and Archangel finding love in one another and simply being allowed to run away to the stars together without any punishment. It's all of these moments, these lessons that Aziraphale learns throughout the years that change his view on life but he still remembers the wrath of God throughout existence. Something as little as a question could get you kicked out of Heaven, eating an apple could get you banished from paradise or you could be the most faithful perfect and loved person and still have your entire life destroyed over a bet. What does he know most about the Almighty? They're "tetchy" and unpredictable.

"Aziraphale, Angel of the Eastern Gate. Where is the flaming sword I gave you, Aziraphale, to guard the Gate of Eden?"

He then conceals the truth to God themselves of the choice he made to give humanity a fighting chance of survival by giving his holy sword away. And is left alone without another word. Forced to walk on egg shells for the rest of his existence out of fear.

"So, giving the mortals a flaming sword. How did that work out for you?" "The Almighty has never actually mentioned it again.." "Probably a good thing."

That fear of the unknown consequences to his past actions.. his lies.. for good or for bad.. he could fall at any moment or lose everything he holds precious (aka his Angel-ness and Crowley).

"I'm not an idiot, Crowley. Do you know what trouble I'd be in if.. if they knew I'd been fraternizing? It's completely out of the question." "Fraternizing?!" "Well, whatever you wish to call it. I do not think there is any point in discussing it further."

So what does he always do? Deflects.. to protect himself. To protect Crowley. Not saying the real truth out loud. Keeping the reality of their relationship an unsaid secret like always.

But sometimes, actions speak louder than words.

"Should I say thank you?" "Better not."

Yet again, he breaks the rules. Doesn't even want to hear a thank you. Again, it must all go unsaid.

"You go too fast for me."

Crowley has always been one step ahead of him. Asking questions, falling, breaking the rules, etc. Aziraphale isn't ready yet. He's not ready to lose everything he holds dear to him by admitting out loud all of his sinful choices or else face the punishment he's been fearing for thousands of years.

"Go off together?" "How long have we been friends? Six thousand years."

Aziraphale starts panicking here. Crowley is saying too much out loud. Deny deny deny.

"Friends? We're not friends. We are an angel and a demon. We have nothing whatsoever in common. I don't even like you."

This bandstand breakup was literally Aziraphale freaking out about doing too many bad things dealing with the whole anti-Christ situation and Crowley getting too close to saying what they truly are to each other. But the fear is too much and he lies again. But this time to himself. Aziraphale has only ever wanted to do the good thing. To make the correct choices. To be on the right side. But he's always faltered. Made choices that he was sure were the bad ones. Lied on occasion. Kept secrets from Heaven and God. Given into temptations. And has always had this fear of God's Almighty wrath hanging over his head for millennia. Always waiting for the other shoe to drop. At any moment, everything will be taken away. But what could be the last straw? The straw that finally breaks the camel's back? To garner God's attention and punishment. It has to be something big. The biggest and most important part of his life. Something that matters to him more than anything in the world. His relationship with the Demon, Crowley. But he's learned. If you don't say it out loud.. if you keep it to yourself. Then you won't be punished. It's worked out for him so far. So why should he think otherwise? And then in the end of S2E6, Metatron gives him the opportunity to make a change to the Heavenly system. His chance to restore his best friend to his former holy glory. A chance to relieve all the suffering he's seen throughout history. A chance to make a difference. Despite all his secret sins, he's being given an unbelievable opportunity- one that proves that maybe he isn't as bad as he always thought he was. He's actually seen as worthy. But then Crowley gets angry about all this. He's against it all. He doesn't want that. He doesn't want to be an Angel again. He doesn't want to return to Heaven. He just wants to be with Aziraphale. And he finally says their best kept, unsaid secret out loud. With a love confession and a passionate kiss.

"You idiot. We could have been… us."

Aziraphale wants this more than anything but every instinct inside of him is screaming to stop it, to not let anyone see, to not let anyone know the truth. This final temptation. His one and true forbidden fruit that is the Demon Crowley.. and it's the one he knows he must resist at all costs.

The fear is overpowering. And the only words that come from his lips…

"I forgive you."

I forgive you for letting our unsaid secret out. I forgive you for trying to tempt me. I forgive you for refusing to join me in Heaven as a renewed Angel. But can he ever truly forgive himself for the choice he just made? Remember, in the end, Aziraphale is just afraid. Afraid to lose everything. Afraid to lose Crowley. Fear of punishment can be traumatizing after all. And it will all be fixed in S3. ;) HAVE FAITH IN GAIMAN!

..Sorry this was so long and drawn out but… I NEED SEASON 3 ALREADY.. (everyone! keep re-watching GO2 on Prime! and no more threats to the creators plz ^-^) Honestly, this was very cathartic to write and help me come to terms with the most heart wrenching painful TV kiss of all time D: But I need to see how their story unfolds. I need to see Aziraphale allow himself to make the choice to be with Crowley without fear of punishment. I NEED MY INEFFIBLE HUSBANDS. TOGETHER. T^T

PS. Literally as I was finishing writing this, I saw Neil Gaiman himself say this on his Tumblr, "But the story of Job is pretty central to the whole Good Omens conversation, including Aziraphale's bit of it." OMG I KNEW IT lololol

#Good Omens #Good Omens meta #good omens analysis #Good Omens 2 #Aziraphale #Crowley #ineffable husbands #Good Omens theory #go2 spoilers #character analysis #“I forgive you”

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 month

Note

Hello there ! I'm such a big fan of your work and i wanted to know if you could please write about azriel x plus size reader (cause curvy Queens deserves that giant bat too) ? Maybe something about her having insecurities BC azriel IS surrounded by beautiful slim women and she think that hes's in love with one of them until they're in a fight and he confesse his love to reader. AT first she can't believe it but she goes to cassian who's like "are you seriously that blind? He loved you the moment he looked a you ???" And then you Can add Smut were he workships her, i won't be against it (only if you're confortable with it obviously)

Big thanks for all your work and i looove you !!

Sorry, this took a moment. 🫧🤍

Picture perfect

In a way, you always felt like a misfit. It wasn’t only because of your looks. If you were to be frank you didn’t nitpick at yourself till others started throwing comments here and there. Planting these tiny seeds in your brain. Ones that bloomed it obstructed your vision, altering it in ways that made you cower in the big crowds of people. Made you avoid parties. Made you blind to so many other things.

Your saving grace for a long while had been Azriel. A childhood best friend who had seen you at your worst and stuck through it. So you felt comfortable with him. And even if he wasn’t big on speaking or voicing his opinion. One thing he never missed was completing you. You had always brushed it off. He was a spymaster after all. So, what if he noticed that you colored your hair slightly? Or curled it in another way. Or that you bought a different style of dress. Or got a new perfume. Rhys paid him to be observant, right? It was that until he had sat you down by the river one evening. And blurted out that he liked you while falling over every other word.

“No, you don’t”, you had whispered. “What do you mean, no, I don’t?”, he had pulled back in confusion. “As friends yes but not like… romantically”, you shrugged. Considering that you had fully convinced yourself that he would never fall for you. Not when he could have anyone. “Yn, I know how I feel and so that means that I like you”, Azriel said more firmly as you let out a low laugh, “Why are you doing this?”, you moved to stand up. “Doing what? Yn, if you don’t feel…”, he had moved to stand up but you were already stepping back from him. “I saw you with Sybile by the fountain today, don’t play games with me because I’m an ugly duckling”, you had hissed at him. Leaving him standing there all confused.

And now for the past week, you had done everything to avoid him. Feeling your heart ache more and more now that he wasn’t there to lean on. So your days were spent mopping over the past as you looked out the window till it got pitch black and you forced yourself to crawl into bed.

“Okay, I physically cannot take any more of this”, Cassian had strolled into the house of wind. A box of your favorite pastries in one of his hands. “Then I don’t know why you are here”, you huffed turning away from him. “I’m here because I apparently having the biggest brain out of the two of you”, he chirped, turning your chair so you would face him. “I highly doubt it”, you crossed your arms over your chest as you looked up at him. The general only smirked, he was used to tough bickering with Nesta.

“I will put this very simply”, Cassian said before shoving a donut into his mouth. “Azriel had been an ass. You had been up here for the past week”, he said with crumbs falling from his mouth, making you grimace.

“Can’t you chew and…”, “Shh”, he waved a powdered sugar-covered finger at you. “Now… You know why all of that happened?”, he asked as if you were a toddler. “Yes, Cass, I know. We fought”, you grumbled. But the general only made a dissatisfied boo. “You two are like that because you like each other but your head is more up your ass than his was”, Cassian clicked his fingers.

“That is not true”, you argued, tearing a part of an apple tart. “What’s keeping you from saying yes to him?”, now this hit you harder than you thought, making you stare up at him for a split second. You knew there was no point in lying. This man would sense a lie before it had a chance to leave your mouth.

“I’m not his type”, you muttered under your breath, already feeling your insecurities bubbling. “I would call that bullshit”, Cassian leaned back. “Cass, he dated goddesses. Slim. Tall. Everything sculpted with so much effort”, you grunted, “And then look at me. Ass, tits, I ain’t no size zero”. Cassian tilted his head to the side, “I fail to see a single bad thing in the way you just described yourself”. “Not funny, Cassian”, you grumbled, “I am not making fun of you same goes for Azriel. Do you know that he had been planning to tell you for the last two months? And I caught him vomiting right after dinner because he was way too nervous”, each of the generals words hit you like a blow. Azriel had planned it? Wasn’t a wimp? Wasn’t just a joke. He wanted to… “He’s been an angry little cloud”, Cassian chuckled, “And I think you should take him out of his misery because I know that you feel the same”.

You practically ran through the townhouse. Slipping steps in your way as you rushed to Azriel’s office. Practically falling through the door. Azriel was out of his chair in a hurry. Worry is written all over his face. “Has something happened? Have you been hurt?”, he asked frantically looking you over. You probably didn’t look too put together now that you had run like a maniac to get to him. You shook his head, “I had to see you, had to apologize”, you breathed out, “for the river”. Azriel’s shoulders sagged, “You have nothing to apologize for, I’m not here trying to make you like me”. You let out a painful sigh, “Azriel but I do like you it’s just…”, your voice fell silent for a moment, “I just don’t see why you would like someone like me”, you muttered looking down on yourself.

Azriel frowned, “What is that supposed to mean?”. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes, “Well, don’t you want someone like Sybile, a perfect blond with two symmetrical breasts and no…”, “I will stop you right here”, Azriel cut in, stepping closer to you, cupping your cheek. “If I wanted to cuddle a bag of bones, I would go to the cave up the mountain”, he pointed out, making your eyes shoot out, “Az”, hissed. “I love you first for who you are and you come with extra assets to love. Not that I look at your breast when you wash linens in the river or anything”, Azriel shrugged as you hit his chest playfully, “Pervert”, you muttered. Feeling your lips curve upwards slightly. “I don’t measure my love for you in your weight or looks. And even if I did, it would just mean that I have more love for you”, “When did you turn into such a sweet lovey boy?”, you tilted your head to the side before giving it a little shake. “Just found this picture-perfect girl, she kind of made me fall head over heels for her”, Azriel muttered, before leaning in to kiss you softly.

#azriel acotar x reader #azriel acotar imagine #azriel x you #azriel imagine #azriel spymaster #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you

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moonstruckme · 1 month

Note

We have whimsical reader in marauders

We need one with tasm peter

Oorrrr

Can you imagine (or make) a witch/wizard reader with tasm peter!!???

Thanks for requesting love!

tasm!Peter Parker x whimsical!reader ♡ 679 words

Peter comes in through the window, more out of habit than anything else now that he’s not hiding anything from you, but you don’t startle. You’re sitting criss-cross-applesauce on the floor in front of the couch, flipping through what looks like his old physics textbook.

“Baby,” he says, “why was there an apple on the fire escape again?”

“It was still there?” You look up, disappointed to find a whole apple in your boyfriend’s hand. “I thought Ricardo would’ve gotten to it by now. I hope he’s okay.”

Peter scoffs, going into the kitchen to wash the apple and put it away. He scrubs it extra hard just in case the raccoon you’re set on befriending did get his grubby paws on it.

“Ricardo can eat without your help,” he says. “He’s hardy, he’s from Brooklyn.”

“I know,” you sigh, “but apples are his favorite.”

Peter’s eyes narrow, but you’re not looking, your attention on something in the book. “How do you know that?”

“He’ll let me pet him while he’s eating apples.”

He sighs, leaning his forearms on the counter. He’s going to have to find a way to move that raccoon to another neighborhood the next time he goes out. Before it gives you rabies.

“What’re you doing over there?” he asks you.

“Pressing flowers.”

“Yeah?” Peter rounds the counter, moving behind you to sit on the couch. His knees bracket your shoulders. The A/C is blasting to combat the summer heat, and goosebumps prickle down your arms. “What for?”

“I was thinking May could bring them to work,” you say, flattening a dandelion between two pieces of wax paper. The movements are deft and routined, and Peter wonders how many flowers are already enclosed between the pages. There’s a small pile of them sitting next to you, miraculously intact despite the fragile puffs. “She was telling me about some of the kids she works with last week. I thought they might like to have them.” You shrug. “For bookmarks or whatever.”

Peter’s insides go melty soft. “I’m sure they would.” He leans forward, setting his hand on your shoulder and his lips to your head. You only keep working. Sometimes Peter feels like a weird rock or a feather that you’d picked up somewhere, put in your pocket without a second thought. But you do love your rocks and feathers, so it’s not an awful fate. “Where’d you get these, sweetheart?”

“I found them,” you say simply. “Parks, sidewalks, you know. They grow anywhere. Do you think I should save a few in case they want to make wishes instead of keeping them?”

It’s said so seriously Peter can’t help but grin, turning so his cheek smushes into the crown of your head. “That seems like a good idea. Mind if I use one?”

“Of course.” You sound surprised. “Use as many as you want, Peter. I can always get more.”

“Just one is good.”

He slides off of the couch, sitting beside you and picking up a dandelion. He waits until you’re looking over at him before blowing.

You squeeze your eyes shut as the seeds rush towards you. Peter’s close enough that they get stuck in your eyelashes and eyebrows, a couple in your hair. His breath weakens as he starts laughing, the last few seeds coming off the flower by way of little puffs of air.

“You don’t have to blow it at someone,” you say, lips stretching into a pretty smile. You blink cautiously, opening your eyes once no dandelion fluff falls in.

He lowers the stem. “I just wanted to make sure my wish went in the right direction.”

Your head tilts. “What’d you wish for?”

Peter combs a bit of white fluff out of your hair, grinning. “C’mon, baby,” he tsks, shifting his fingers to your jaw. You’re pliant to the touch, angling your head at the slightest cue from him. You keep your eyes open, curious, but your lips are soft against his. “You know that’s not how it works. I’ve still gotta make sure it comes true.”

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 months

Text

I've been dreaming of the Plotting Serpent.

A Sorcerer in the Sands seeks something far bigger than himself. Freedom, sweet freedom.

How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?

Bundled up in several layers, Jamil makes his way down a twisting path and into an open market.

The ground crunches softly under his boots. His breath is chilled, turning into a fleeting fog as he exhales. He retreats to the comfort and safety that his bulky coat provides, watching bales of white lazily drift down around him.

Snow instead of sand—imagine that.

The market operates straight out of the town square. From a vantage point--his temporary housing upon a hill--he can see the entirety of it, all the stalls forming a circle. The market is, by no means, large—but it has the spirit of something grander. The banter, the bartering.

Not so different from the bazaars at home.

Jamil ducks in, taking his time to pace around to each vendor. He’s agile and bright, like a child first viewing the moon and rushing to catch it in his palms.

Most sellers—and most customers—are elderly, gnarled like the roots of a tree. The cold colors their rounded cheeks the same red as many of the apples on display.

There’s pink and yellow and green too, and other fresh produce. The majority of it, he is told, is grown in Harveston. Others are foraged from Mt. Moln—nuts, plants, berries, and mushrooms.

Other stalls offer already manufactured goods. Scarves and gloves to protect against the winter, steaming apple drinks and sweetly spiced snacks, toiletries lovingly handcrafted with botanical oils.

His eyes light up with interest. He stops to inspect a row of shampoo and conditioner bars.

Feel free to touch and smell! says a sign at the stall.

He does, testing the weight of a bar in his hand. It is light and has an easy slip to it, and gives off the faint aroma of apples. Slightly tart and juicy.

It'll be good to have on hand, especially when it weighs less than liquid variants. The sign says these bars are made with apple seed oil, an ingredient that treats split ends and dryness while restoring a shine...

He absentmindedly feels the ends of his hair. The locks are normally dark and glossy, but the cold has not treated them well, leaving them slightly dry and brittle.

That's the cost of travel. It can be difficult to predict how my skin and hair react to different climates.

“Excuse me,” Jamil calls out to the stall owner, “I’d like to buy one of these shampoo bars, please. One in the conditioner bars as well."

“Sure thing!!” The owner wraps up the bars and slides them over. As Jamil hands him a few bills, he pipes up. “Say, yer not from ‘round here, are ya, sonny?”

“Yes. I am but a traveler.”

“Traveler!” The owner’s eyebrows shoot up. “Real fancy livin’ ya must have."

“No, not at all. I try to live humbly and travel light.” Jamil indicates his backpack, the one piece of luggage that follows him wherever he goes.

"That so? Not many young folk visit these parts." The owner strokes his rounded chin in contemplation. "I figured ya must be on yer way to the city. A lot more for youngins to see 'n do there."

“I beg to differ. The village has shown me incredible hospitality during my stay. Delicious foods, friendliness... I can enjoy Harveston's natural sights without worry. I'm content with just that."

With each word that leaves his lips, he feels the weight that has been on his shoulders lifting.

Jamil, you're free, the wind seems to whisper. The realization is intoxicatingly sweet and crisp, the first bite taken from a forbidden fruit.

"Aww, that warms mah heart ta hear ya say," the owner beams. "Yer a good kid, yer parents would be proud of ya."

"My... parents?" Jamil falters at the mention of them.

His parents are back home. His sister, too. Najma had texted not long ago, pestering him about bringing her a souvenir and asking when he’d be back.

His family is waiting for him. And... who else is there?

Jamil's brows furrow. Suddenly, he feels as though someone should be beside him, and he, trailing after them. A hopeless person buying up all the stalls, shoveling new dish after new dish at him.

"Here, try this, Jamil! Oooh, and this! That looks super tasty, have some too! And this cracker!"

"Where did you get all this food from?! There's no way we'll be able to feasibly finish this before it goes bad. Why do you never listen to me, Ka..."

A growl rips from his stomach. Jamil's eyes widen, and his face heats.

The stall owner's laugh cuts through his confusion. "Gahahah! Ya hungry there, son? Here, lemme grab ya somethin' on the house."

"Oh no, sir, I can't accept that."

"I insist!! Won't be long 'fore ya mosey on outta here and move on ta the next place. Eat yer fill while yer here, there ain't nothin' like a homegrown Harveston meal or snack anywhere else in Twisted Wonderland!"

The owner rustles with utensils behind the stall, He fills a container with a generous slice of pie--oozing with apple filling--and fluffy pancakes, plus a few potstickers. Then he pours hot tea, apple cubes bobbing in the spiced brown liquid, into a paper cup.

Jamil gets a whiff of it from where he stands and--against his better judgment, his mouth waters. When the owner hands him the container, cup, and a wooden fork, he doesn't refuse them.

"Remember us ‘n all the fun times ya spent here."

"Thank you, sir." Jamil bows his head. "I will. I'll never forget your kindness."

"Don't 'cha mention it. Go on 'n git now, ya got plenty more of the village to visit!""

Jamil departs with his purchase and his gifts, which he immediately settles into.

Lifting the paper cup to his lips, he sips his tea. It's deep and tangy from the cinnamon and apples it has been brewed with. He pleasantly warms from head to toe.

It isn't long before he downs the rest of the drink, apple cubes and all. They're not fresh, but dried--so when his teeth slices them into halves, they're springy and chewy, with a strong flavor.

Jamil lowers the cup, dragging out a satisfied sigh.

It's then that he realizes he's walking directly into a black wall. He veers sharply to the right, but still brushes his arm against that of the incoming person.

“Pardon me. I wasn't watching where I was going...” Jamil looks back, but is startled to find no one where his shoulder has made contact.

Hm? Was I imagining things?

Jamil glances around the marketplace. The crowd is too sparse for him to miss anyone. There are grandmothers and grandfathers, mothers and fathers, each dressed in thick coats and boots, some wrapped in scarves and others sporting fuzzy hats or earmuffs.

But no one is wearing all black.

He shakes his head.

It was probably nothing then.

Jamil returns to browsing the square, his every stride as light as a feather. He feels as though he is dancing atop the snow.

The cold no longer bothers him.

The wind, carrying a new message that resonates with his heart. It seems stronger now, rumbling like a deadly avalanche.

"Be free, Viper. Be free."

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angelltheninth · 10 months

Note

Hey there! I loved your headless horseman story! It was so spicy but I found myself giggling too. Can I ask for some fluff, maybe how the Reader met and was courted by the headless horseman?

Monster ask! Thank you, most of my asks rn are Spiderverse and anime themed. Not that I mind, but I like to write other stuff too.

Pairing: The Headless Horseman x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, meet-scary, flirting, gifts, midnight meetings, ghost stories and legends

A/N: I recently read a re-telling of the Headless Horseman called Raising the Horseman. Pretty good book, I'd recommend it.

Your first meeting was horrible, with you slapping his poor pumpkin head to the side of the road

All he wanted to was to help you find directions cause you seemed so lost in the forest, and there are dangerous animals at night that roam about

He wouldn't be a gentleman if he let a pretty lady get hurt on his watch

When he doesn't see you for a few days he's afraid he might have scared you off before getting the opportunity to say sorry

You heard many stories of the Sleepy Hollow and the Horseman, naturally you thought them as just that, stories

The encounter with the Headless Horseman proved to be much more then a ghost story

But there was still a seed of doubt in your mind, it could have been a prank, so you decided to go back, same time, same place

He was there again, feeding apples to his horse and certainly not vengeful or full of rage as you've heard

His pumpkin head jumps from his neck when you pat him on the shoulder, he's quick to catch it in his arms and clutch it close to his chest, laughing about how ironic it is that he's the one who got scared

This definitely wasn't a prank, it was real, he was real

Started to welcome you to his side of the bridge, patiently waiting for you and helping you up on his steed

To your surprise he could still see, taste, and even eat and drink, although in very small portions

Being from a different time he couldn't keep his eyes off you, the things you had, the things you wore, it was all so fascinating to him

Even though he saw all this progress this was the first time he ever got to talk to anyone from a new era, to be close to them

Would bring you what gifts he could, in the form of flowers mostly or something cute he carved up from wood

As he was dead for many, many years he was very out of practice with courting, often stumbling over his words when you'd flirt with him so openly

One thing he never lost though was his love of dancing, and its much more fun now that he has a lovely partner to share the dance with

#monster x reader #monster x human #the headless horseman #the headless horseman x reader #monster imagine #monster headcanons #monster fluff #monster x fem!reader #monster love #monster x girl #terato

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storiesbyrhi · 10 days

Text

Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, grief/mourning; light smut; warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: You are wide awake. 2340 words.

1986

Every day Eddie watched the jar. He watched how the moon water moved, alive and with a viscosity different from regular water. He watched the apple slices dry and the sprigs of lavender go stiff. He thought if he watched closely enough, he’d see the magic working, but he never caught a glimmer of craft.

When it was time, you let him plant the enchanted seed in the new coven neighbourhood. Your home would grow furthest out, close to the shade of the woods. A spell later, you were traveling back to Forest Hills to begin packing the trailer up.

It had been months since you’d moved in, therefore you had accumulated a lot of items.

“Do you need all of these?” Eddie asked, holding up one of five shoeboxes, all packed with feathers you had found. “And is this a normal amount of feathers to find? What is wrong with the birds in Hawkins?”

“Yes and no and a lot. I told you that if you are gonna help, you can’t question every single thing you pick up,”

“I’m doing no such thing,” he rebutted.

“Eddie, you told me to cull my jar collection,”

“I stand by it. There are too many. You can collect more,”

“I use them! Frequently! And I don’t just keep any jar. All the ones I have are, like, uniquely shaped or extra sturdy!” you whined. “Asking a witch to not collect jars is just…” You shook your head, not able to find the words to express the atrocity.

Eddie smiled at you softly. “Perhaps I am not the best helper,” he conceded. “Perhaps my time would be better spent doing something else,”

“Something else like use your vampire speed to clean the bathroom, or something else like turn into a bat and sleep?”

An hour later, Eddie was asleep in one of the boxes containing clothes, and you were wrapping more empty jars in bubble wrap.

…

A monument to witchcraft and love. That’s what Eddie thought when he saw the house. It had the glorious drama of Ev’s Victorian home and the softness of the other witches’ cottages. Expansive stained glass windows. Detailed architraves, the wood so dark it appeared black. Red brick. A single-story structure, but the dome of a conservatory was visible over the roof. It extended back into the woods, settling into the landscape as if it had always been there.

Eddie thought back to all the places he had lived in. The house his father’s rage felt the brunt of as much as he did. The farm he came into adulthood on. The colony caves. The cold and lonely hotel rooms. The trees above Forest Hills. He’d never had a home, apart from your arms, but there it was. Real and in front of him.

The sun was setting over the valley as Eddie stood before the house. You’d seen it early that day, doing your final checks before okaying the move. It was your magic the house grew from, so naturally you were less awestruck by it. The floorplan and aesthetic had been born in your mind. Still, it was a beautiful thing.

“Think it will do?” you asked Eddie, coming to stand beside him.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from it. “It’s…” How many different words were there for ‘home,’ he wondered. What language could fully communicate the depth of emotion?

“Enchanted seeds create homes, not houses,” you told him as you walked towards the front door. “Come and see.”

Eddie followed, almost expecting something to happen as he crossed the front door threshold. Once inside, Eddie clenched his jaw. It was more perfect than he could have anticipated.

The furniture was plush and comfortable, an eclectic mix of antique pieces and modern amenities. Bookshelves stood tall and waiting, ready for the library to arrive. Potted ivy trailed up and around curtain railings and along the walls.

“You never got to see my place in the Catskills. A lot of the furniture comes from there. The rest comes from the seed… It’s the kind of magic that makes me wish we could study it, you know? I want to know the science of it. How does it work?”

“It seems to me that part of the power of magic is in the unknowing,” Eddie replied, as wise as any of the Witches Who Came Before.

“It does appear to be the case,” you agreed.

For a while, you let Eddie wander aimlessly through the house.

He marvelled at the bath, huge and round, like a pond and definitely big enough for two. A huge wardrobe door that opened into a secret library. The conservatory full of thriving plants, flowers, herbs, and other living things Eddie did not have a word for. Every window a different shape but never square. Strange detailing like cat shaped doorknobs and pink quartz basins.

Eventually, Eddie sat on the end of the huge bed, its four posts grand and its linen crisp. He looked over at you and held out his hands.

“Come.”

You walked to him, taking his hands, and standing between his legs. Eddie looked up at you with those sparkling brown eyes, the adoration radiating from him.

“It’s an irrational idea, this fear I have that I’m dreaming. That I am still cursed, haunting this town until the end of time. But a vampire cannot dream. The cursed cannot dream. But still…”

Gently, you let go of Eddie’s hands and leaned into him, snaking your fingers into his hair as he pressed himself into your body, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“You are wide awake. Alive… kind of… But definitely here. With me. In our home. Soon-to-be, with our friends. Our family. And just in time for Halloween.”

He purred a happy sound, nodding into you. “A witch’s favourite holiday?” he hazarded a guess.

“Hmm, not all of us. Most of the witches I’ve known tended to find more obscure holidays to worship at the altar of. New Years is a big one, too. Alas, I am but a cliché All Hallows witch,”

“With much respect, I see that,” Eddie said. You laughed, shrugged. He looked up at you again. “You did fall in love with a vampire, after all.”

…

Far away from the rest of the world, you and Eddie spent almost a week settling into the new house. Grimoires were catalogued into one of the three library rooms. Dandelion puffs were jarred and shelved. Every trinket found its home.

Eddie tested the rainbow light that flooded the rooms, discovering that in the magic there was safety. Sunlight that filtered through the windows did not burn him. He could be free and at ease.

You explained to Eddie the importance of representing the elements within the home. Earth in the plants, wooden carpentry, and the grounding crystals. Fire in the candles, ever-burning incense, and roaring fireplaces that only ever emitted the exact level of heat you wanted. (“In summer, the flames burn cold,” you told Eddie and watched his smile grow.) Water in the mirrors, seashells, and small fountains found in the glasshouse room. Lastly, air in the wind chimes, feathers, and windows that could remain open without upsetting the temperature inside.

During the day, you began work on your garden, creating flower beds in the shape of pentagrams and sewing seeds. Borage for the butterflies and bees, primrose – I can’t live without you; angelica in case you need to break any future hexes; and yarrow, amaryllis, and polypodies.

One evening, just before sunset, you found Eddie rummaging through the apothecary pantry. As you entered the room, his manic smile told you he’d had an idea.

“What’s the story, morning glory?” you asked him, perching on a stool.

Eddie sunk to his knees and shrugged. “The fires are out… The Shire is no longer burning,”

“The Shire being… Hawkins?”

“Yes. And us. We’ve sailed to the Undying Lands,”

“You’re really making Tolkien your whole personality, huh?” you joked.

Eddie smiled up at you. “Until the next book… But what I’m saying is, now that we do not have a battle to prepare for. No conflict upon the horizon. What do we do with all of eternity?”

“Oh… My plan was to eat a lot of Meg’s cinnamon rolls… Try to get Steve Harrington to stop haunting Mel… Maybe work on a spell to make myself teeny tiny so I can ride around on you when you’re a bat…”

“Wait, seriously?”

You gave him a sly smile. “Maybe,”

“Well, I would love that… But, I was thinking a little more introspectively. Back to things we have thought about before. Like, why I am the way that I am… What that means…” He ran a finger along the leaves of the mimosa pudica plant beside him. The leaves felt his touch, curled inwards on themselves. It was one of Eddie’s favourites, the way it reacted to the world around it.

“Any new insights?” you asked softy.

“No… But… If I believe in you and in your magic and the way you make sense of the world… then I… I have to do something,”

“Do something?”

“We get back what we give, right?”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “It’s not always obvious or direct. Or timely. Or even equally fair… But, yeah… There is definitely something like the concept of karma at play. And even if there isn’t, living as if there is can only be a good thing,”

“Then I must show more grace… and gratitude… Even if I am a monster, maybe especially because I am… I can give goodness too.”

Without thinking, you slid off the stool and joined Eddie on the floor. “You already do. You don’t owe the world anything.”

Eddie smiled, first a small soft thing, almost sad, but then it twisted into something else. Ear-to-ear and full of teeth. “I owe it more than one life,”

“But if we count all the lives you have saved. Both by killing what plagued this town, and by preventing deaths at the hands of bad people-”

“Morality cannot be simple addition and subtraction. There is no math that can quantify goodness or righteousness. You know that,” Eddie cut in. He watched your face, saw the pensiveness blossom across it. “Don’t worry, my little witch, my plan is not as life-or-death as this all makes it seem… I just want to do something good for your friends,”

“Your friends,” you corrected quickly. “They’ll be your friends too. Your family. You’re part of this coven.”

Eddie reached out to cup your face in his hands. “Your coven is yours. But I will take the friendship. I have years of loneliness to make up for,”

“Then what-”

He cut you off again, this time with a kiss. You brought your hands up to his shoulders, draping your arms around his neck. Eddie pulled you into his lap and you curled into him like the leaves of the mimosa.

His mouth kissed and sucked at your neck between sentence fragments. “I’m-” kiss “going-” kiss “to plant-” lick “them-” kiss “flowers.” His punctuation a kiss that wanted to be a bite.

You were hardly listening to his words. His words and ideas and introspective musings could all wait.

Eddie laid you down on the floor, the smell of the oak still new. You arched your back and pulled him down by his collar.

“Bed,” you mumbled into his mouth.

“Why build a house if we’re not gonna use it,” he answered.

One hand splayed next to your head to keep him up, the other tickling its way under the hem of your skirt and up your thigh.

“Besides,” Eddie said. “Doesn’t feel like you can wait.” He was sliding your underwear off, throwing them across the room. He rested a hand on you, sliding an index finger through your slickness.

“I can’t,” you agreed, breathy and impatient. “Now. I want you now.”

Eddie didn’t have to be asked twice. With his pants still hanging from an ankle, he was fast to set up and slow on approach. You felt the tip of him follow the path made by his hand, gathering wetness, and shooting electricity through your body.

You melted into jelly beneath him, bliss written all over your face. Eddie loved you like this, pliable and prone to tears of ecstasy.

He held himself back, keeping his pace slow and steady. His vampire muscles screamed to go faster, to rail you into next week, but he liked pulling you apart. Liked how you unconsciously uttered strings of words like ‘full’ and ‘please’ and ‘can’t.’ Liked when you clawed at him to come closer, bit down on his shoulder.

“I love you,” he told you, mouth on your ear, tongue licking. “So. Fucking. Much.”

There was a seemingly endless amount of ways Eddie had learned could make you cum. Talking to you was a favourite for you both.

“You’re so perfect, so perfect… You feel so perfect… You’re so warm and soft and I… I want to eat you whole…”

Your response was in the pooling tears and the nodding and the slack jaw. The begging, “Please. Please.”

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” It was all it took. Your orgasm exploded moments before his. Eddie’s thrusting getting harder and faster for the few seconds he took to follow you. He had to grind his teeth together to stop himself from ripping into your neck.

You kept your eyes closed, not aware of your surroundings. When you felt Eddie’s arms slide beneath you, you smiled and hummed. He carried you to your new bed, cleaning your skin with a warm washcloth before curling himself in behind you.

With the last of your day’s energy, you tangled your fingers through his, falling asleep happily.

As Eddie listened to your breathing find its mellow night rhythm, he saw a vision of you in his mind. Hands full of flowers and foliage. A coven of audience. Glorious and beaming.

End Note: I made a small Pinterest board with inspo for their house - click here to view.

I hope you are all as well as any of us can be at a time like this. I hope this story continues to provide comfort, escapism, and fuel for daydreams. xo Rhi

Fic Taglist: @paranoidmunson @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch @spicysix @briasnow-blog @goth-cowgirl-03 @moviefreak1205 @pastel-pillows

All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out @siren-lungs @aheadfullofsteverogers @hiscrimsonangel @dashingdeb16 @cultish-corner

#Mine #Burning Yarrow #Eddie Munson #Vampire!Eddie Munson #Bat!Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson x You #Eddie Munson/Reader #Eddie Munson/You

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selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs · 6 months

Note

I got a good idea, what if the reader became aware that the bsd characters are self aware. So they stop reading and watching it, and playing the game because they think their hurting the characters.(this would happen before the bsd characters got into our world)

I am aware that you are aware

Self-Aware! BSD Characters x GN! Reader

Description: You liked BSD Mayoi Inu Kaikitan game. So many features, so many cards and story up to fourth season. You still baffled, that the game not that popular.

Why others think that your new cards is a fanart? Why people tell, that you can't get multiple SSR tickets from Marble Shining? Why The Internet tell, that game only describes two seasons and part of Dead Apple? And why people can have different nicknames in game, isn't it supposed to be your real name?

Warning: OOC. English is my second language.

🐾 You just wanted to show, how lucky your pulls were in current scouts "Casino - Rats in the house of the Dead" and "Casino - Decay of Angels"

🐾 You made a screenshot of 2821 Fyodor D. "Casino", 3711 Pushkin "Casino", 5243 N. Gogol "Casino" and 1638 Sigma "Casino"¹ and post it on BSD Mayoi Subreddit.

🐾 You got comments. Lots of comments, praising the fanart... Or asking, why did you post an April Fools' joke now, not on First of April?

🐾 Fanart? Joke? What do they mean? It wasn't a fanart, it's an official card! You clearly remember doing a daily free 11-scout! And getting them!

🐾 But, a tiny seed of doubt appears in your soul. Was it possible, that so many people didn't get the cards? Or... Didn't see the scout?

______

🐾 Next strange thing happened, when you Shine the Marble for Ranpo. For this week it was a Campaign "10 shines for one click". The Marble Turned prismatic, and you exchange it for SSR Scout Ticket. Well, for a few SSR Tickets. You got lucky again and win "Detective Chance". A familiar phrase appeared in a text box near Ranpo's chibi:

"Great Job, [Y/N]! You deserve a little bonus! Let's collect more cool marbles later!"

🐾 You smiled. It was cute.

🐾 Unfortunately, one of your fellow students saw everything you were doing.

🐾 And they blamed you for playing a hacked game.

🐾 You snarled at them. If they are playing BSD Mayoi and were unlucky with Marble Shining today, it's not your fault. You aren't cheating. Besides, they were looking on your phone screen without your permission. And what if you were texting some private information during that?

🐾 They spat at you, mumbling something about 'there is no marble campaign right now' and 'never they gave you five tickets for a marble'.

🐾 They were rude, yes. They were in the wrong by looking at your phone screen. But... They won't gain too anything by lying. Especially, to you. You also play BSD Mayoi, you could check.

🐾 Could you?

🐾 You didn't notice, that chibi Ranpo opened his eyes. And his look wasn't the friendliest.

🐾 The next day you learned, that yesterday's student got some serious private information leaked. Something about blackmail and stealing other students projects. They will face some trouble.

🐾 ... Quite an interesting coincidence...

_______

🐾 You don't know, what made you do it, but, when your grandma asked you to download an app, that will remind her taking her medication, you decide to look up BSD Mayoi Inu Kaikitan game in app store.

🐾 Different icon. Not yours. Different screens. And comments...

🐾 Asking, when third season will be added... For more Fyodor cards... For adding Gogol cards... Asking for a Dead Apple Scout rerun... That was up last time almost five years ago.

🐾 This comment was from two days ago. But, Dead Apple Scout was just one month ago! You got Dazai's, Fyodor's and Shibusawa's cards!

🐾 They were wrong! Or... You were wrong...? Or no one was wrong.

🐾 You download necessary apps for your grandma.

🐾 And start thinking.

_______

🐾 You spend two hours in the library, using the university's computer.

🐾 Search information about BSD Mayoi in any language you could think of.

🐾 Online translators might not be the most accurate, but they let you understand the main idea.

🐾 There was no more story in game outside The Dragon Head Conflict. And the situation didn't change for years.

🐾 Aya, Rimbaud, Flags, Adam, Verlaine, Karma, Katai, Oda's orphans, Pushkin, Goncharov, Oguri, Gogol, Sigma, Tetchou, Teruko, Fukuchi, Jounou and Bram didn't have any cards on any server. And Tachihara didn't have a Hunting Dogs version of his card.

🐾 Some Scouts didn't have a rerun for ages.

🐾 Marble Exchange can give you one SSR Ticket for Max Level Marble.

🐾 There were never Junchirou's menu with daily recipes. Or Katai's menu with tips for keeping your phone safe. Or Mori's with fashion tips.

🐾 Devs never gave away SSR Cards as present for Maintenance end.

🐾 Characters never send notes with gifts to Players, thanking them.

🐾 Players could choose any nicknames, not their real names.

🐾 Either you get a special version of an app... Or... Characters were... But, it's impossible, right?

🐾 Were there any way for you to prove it?

______

"I love BSD for using small Easter eggs for people, who liked literature. But, I wish, they would do it more often. For example, real-life Junchirou Tanizaki and Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald were friends! They even play shogi together. And in BSD Tanizaki and Francis are barely interacting with each other."

After you finish talking with your friend, Ango immediately rushed to get the camera, and Junchirou and Francis start to set a scene. Tomorrow you will get a card you want! Card, that reflects their other world counterparts.

[Next Day]

"Oh! SSR card with Fitzgerald and Junchirou playing shogi? And it's called "Old friends"? Good... So Devs knew about that... story..."

Your voice sounded... Off. And Little Light trembled for some reason.

"Story, that I made up two days ago to test my theory. You... All of you can hear me, right?"

BSD Cast feel, like they were struck by lightning. They wanted to make a surprise to you and reveal, that they are self-aware, only when they got into your world.... Well, doesn't matter, they could try to speak to you, now...

Why are you crying? Who have hurt you?

Your voice were pleading. You sobbed.

"I am sorry! I am sorry for not realizing it sooner! I am sorry for every hit you got, when marble hit spikes or poison, or when enemies hit you! I am sorry, for reading about your lives, for learning your secrets without permission! For... Making you relive your lives... And for... Hurting you... Killing you..."

At the end, you were hysterical. You were the reason for Rimbaud's, Flags', Oda's, his kids', Gide's and Shibusawa's death. You were the reason, they got hurt. You howl, remembering that time, Kunikida lost his arms.

"I am sorry! I am sorry! I am so sorry!"

BSD Cast were in distress. You misunderstood the situation! They weren't angry! They liked you and will never hate you!

But with next words their world shatter.

"I... I won't read about your lives anymore. Or watch about it... I... won't play the game anymore... I won't delete it, because I am not sure, if this won't hurt you... I am sorry!"

You close the app.

Little Light fall on a floor, sobbing.

_____

Few days later you got an email from yourself. And from them.

"Dear [Y/N],

Please, listen to us. You didn't hurt us in any way! We aren't angry, we promise! You... Your love and understanding let us through our darkest times. We were lost, confused, we didn't know who we are. But you, you were here. You treat us and our emotions like we were real for you.

Please, open the app... We add chat, we want to talk to you.

BSD cast"

You re-read the letter a few more times. Then again. And again.

After some thinking, you opened the app.

______

You were chatting for a long time. You asked about how they became self-aware, what were happening, when you read new chapters. You asked about deceased ones, whose cards you got (you have never been happier in your life, after learning, that they were alive. Because of you). You asked if they felt pain, when they loose HP in game.

And BSD Gang asked you about your life, your interest, if they can add something else in the app that you need.

And about wanting to get into your world. About wanting to live in reality. And be your friends.

You have a feeling, that it was a beginning of something unique.

______

🐾 You keep your decision about not watching and reading BSD. They weren't characters anymore. They were real people.

🐾 You also stopped cleaning Battle Stages in Mayoi. Instead, you were chatting with the gang.

🐾 Slowly but surely you learned more about each other.

🐾 So, when they finally appeared in your world, you greet them like old friends.

______

¹ Something interesting about numbers:

2821 - "The Gambler" by Dostoevsky was the author's 28th work. And it was written in 21 days, because Dostoevsky lost all money he had by gambling and need money as soon as possible.

3711 - In "The Queen of Spades" by Pushkin the winning combination in the card game were three, seven and ace (considered 11 in some games and in the novel)

5243 - "The Gamblers" play by Gogol was played on stage for the first time in 1843, on 5 of February.

1638 - Year, when the first Casino in Europe was open.

#self-awareau #self-awarebsd #bungou stray dogs au #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd anime #bsd x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader

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rorywritesjunk · 5 months

Text

I can’t tell where the journey will end But I know where to start

Prequel to my Kid Buggy fic, set about 11-ish years before that story.

Buggy meets you by chance when he needs his buttons sewn back onto his jacket. He’s young, up and coming, and he thinks everyone should cower before him wherever he goes, but all you do is smile at him.

Rating: PG-13ish just for some swearing. Warning: Buggy’s in his early 20s. He’s an asshole. He just is because I wanted to write him loud, demanding, everything. There’s 3 new characters thrown in because why not? Future Wife gets a name as well! Also, in this chapter, Buggy's an asshole and the Reader is just a bit as well. A/N: I have no idea when Buggy became a Captain, so he’s a fresh faced captain in this. No clue how long this fic will be. I just started on the 4th chapter but I’m excited to write it out! I had fun with the original fic and decided to write the prequel to how they met. Enjoy! I also wanted to get this posted because I work the next six days in a row, and I may get some things posted but I wanted to get this chapter up soon because I may have teared up a bit writing it.

Title comes from “Wake Me Up” by Avicii.

TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @ane5e @kingofthemfingpirates @the-angriest-angel @tiredemomama @valen-yamyam16 @i-reblog-fics-i-like @plethora-of-fickleness

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 + Chapter 16 + Chapter 17 + Chapter 18 + Epilogue

Chapter 5

Buggy managed to find you sitting by yourself on a blanket at the lake. There were ducks coming up to you, quacking as you tossed seeds to them. It only took him an hour of asking around to find out where he might be able to find you. He didn’t even go to the shop to ask because he wasn’t keen on coming face to face with Miss Pins after she hit him with the broom the other night. He made sure his hat was perched right on his head and that his jacket was buttoned right before he marched over to you.

You heard someone approaching but only looked up when a shadow was cast over you. When you looked up and saw Buggy, you couldn’t help but smile. How he managed to find you, you weren’t sure, but there also weren’t that many places in town with ducks so it shouldn’t have been too hard. You scooted over on the blanket and patted a spot beside you for him to sit.

“I thought ducks were boring.” You said as he sat down. He tensed up when you said that, looking away as he said nothing in return. “There isn’t anything more exciting for you to be doing, Buggy?”

“I… yes, there is, always.” He grumbled. “I’m a pirate after all. There’s always something exciting to be done.”

“But you came to sit with me while I fed the ducks.” You pointed out. He looked back at you, glaring as you dipped an apple slice into peanut butter and held it out to him. “Snack?”

He grumbled and took it from you, shoving it into his mouth before he replied. “I wanted to… wish you a happy birthday, but I didn’t get you anything.”

“You didn’t have to.” You handed him a napkin but he didn’t take it. “I mean, I like that we seem to be becoming friends, but you didn’t have to come wish me happy birthday or get me a gift. I know you’re busy but don’t go out of your way for this.”

“I-I can do whatever I want!” He sputtered, staring at you in disbelief. How could you be telling him what not to do? He could do whatever he wanted, and if he wanted to wish you a happy birthday while you fed the damn ducks then he would. “I don’t have to answer to anyone, and, and I don’t-”

You cut him off by pushing an apple slice against his lips. His cheeks flushed and he glared at you, but he took it out of your hand before shoving it into his mouth like the other piece.

“Well, thank you, Buggy. I appreciate it.” You smiled at him as you looked back at the ducks. Several of the mamas were quacking at you, wanting food, while one of the ducklings pulled at your skirt. You tossed more seeds out to them and looked back at the pirate. “Miss Pins doesn’t want you coming around the shop anymore.”

“She can’t turn my business away!” Buggy exclaimed. “I’m a well paying customer!”

“She’s convinced you’re lovesick and will steal me away.” You chuckled. “This morning she warned me again about seeing you because she doesn’t want you to steal me from her.”

Buggy crossed his arms and looked away again. “Well, can’t you make your own decisions? You’re an adult. She can’t tell you what you can and can’t do.”

“Are you planning on stealing me away then?” You asked as you tossed more seeds for the ducks. Buggy refused to look at you. “Buggy-”

“How can I when I still don’t know your name?” He shot back. “You never told me.”

“Miss Pins said it in front of you.” You told him with a shrug. “At least once.”

“Once isn’t enough to remember!” He snapped. “Not to mention I rarely see you, so how can you expect me to remember something stupid like your name?!”

And as soon as he said that he realized he should have shut up. He didn’t like the way you were looking at him just then, no traces of a smile or that look you had in your eyes when you talked with him, of warmth and kindness. Instead there was disappointment, maybe even hurt, and before he knew it you were gathering your things into a basket.

“I need to get back to the shop.”

“It’s your birthday, you said you had a few days free.” Buggy replied as he stood up. “Let’s go do something, I’ll take you on my ship and, and we can go do whatever you want!”

“No, I need to get back to the shop.” You told him as you gathered your blanket into your arms. You weren’t looking at him and he hated that, he didn’t want you to look away from him.

“We should do something!” Buggy insisted as he reached for your arm, but you jerked away and glared at him. He stopped moving in that moment, horrified to see tears in your eyes. Did he cause that? Did his stupid behavior lead to this?

“No.” You said as you brushed past him. “And Miss Pins doesn’t want you coming by the shop anymore, Captain, so please don’t come around.”

He stood and watched you leave. He fucked up, didn’t he? One of the only people to be kind to him and he managed to ruin it by being an ass. He wasn’t lovesick, he just wanted a friend, but the way his heart was feeling right then as he watched you walk away was different from how his friendship with Shanks ended. His heart hurt and felt heavy, like it was sinking into his stomach and weighing him down. You didn’t even say his name, just called him Captain before walking off. He didn’t follow after you, his legs wouldn’t work, but he wanted to. He wanted to call you back to him, make a stupid joke to get you to laugh and smile. He didn’t like seeing tears in your eyes because of him, but maybe he should stay away if he was just going to upset you.

He was an idiot.

A duck quacked at him before it nipped at his ankle, startling him. No, he decided he wouldn’t stay away. Yea, he was an idiot, but he liked being around you. Buggy scowled and crossed his arms. He didn’t want to lose you.

You didn’t speak to Miss Pins or the girls as you went up the stairs and to your room. It was nice being the oldest as you were given your own room, you didn’t have to share like the younger two did. You shut the door and set your things down before falling face first onto your bed, hiding your face in the blankets as you sighed heavily.

Buggy was rude from time to time, but that was the first time he was mean to you. Why did he have to react like that? You were sure it wasn’t intentional but it still hurt. And it hurt enough that you weren’t sure you wanted to see him again, but it made you wonder why he was so insistent on seeing you in the first place. Did he want to be friends with you, or was Miss Pins right, he wanted to steal you away from here? You weren’t sure about that part. While you were nearing the end of your apprenticeship with her, you hoped to stick around a bit longer to help her out.

You rubbed your eyes and sighed. This wasn’t how you wanted your birthday to go. You only wanted to relax and watch the ducks but he had to come along and ruin it. Maybe you could do something tomorrow to make up for it, but you didn’t want to risk the chance of running into Buggy.

Maybe you’d just hide in your room for a while.

It was five weeks before you saw Buggy again.

Every time the door opened to the shop you’d look up, hoping it was him, only to be disappointed that it was someone else each time. He wasn’t coming back even though you still had two pairs of socks for him. Maybe he decided to listen to you when you told him Miss Pins didn’t want him coming around anymore.

The girls left the apprenticeship, deciding they didn’t want to deal with pirates anymore. Miss Pins had been out of the shop and you were in charge when a big and very threatening pirate came along, scaring the girls into quitting, so it had just been you and Miss Pins taking on all the customers and tasks for a few weeks until the new apprentice showed up and honestly, you were relieved.

Benji was only 13 but he was happy to fight any pirates that came along being rude to either you or Miss Pins. Honestly, it was kind of adorable but you made sure not to say that to him. He quickly became fiercely protective of the two of you and it became apparent when the shop door opened one afternoon and Benji was met with a scowl. He glared back at the pirate and crossed his arms.

“What?”

The pirate made a face when he saw him. “Who are you?”

“Who are you?” Benji shot back.

“I’m Captain Buggy!”

“Oh, you’re that pirate.” Benji moved around the counter and crossed his arms as he glared up at him. “Miss Pins doesn’t want your business so you can leave.”

“I don’t care what she says and I’m not here for her anyways!” Buggy snapped. “I’m… I’m here for…”

“Benji, what’s going on?” You sighed as you stepped out of the back. While you appreciated the protective nature, you hated how he talked to customers. You were working with him on that. When you saw Buggy you stopped in your tracks. Benji turned around to look at you.

“I’m just chasing this good for nothin’ pirate off, Sunny.” He said with a grin. “So no worries, okay? I got this.”

Buggy resisted pushing the kid away. He wanted to make amends with you, not make it worse. He took a deep breath and gritted his teeth. “I’m here to see Sunny, not the old lady, kid.”

Benji looked back at him. “No, you’re not welcome here. Boss’s orders.”

“Miss Pins isn’t in right now.” You reminded him. “So it means I’m in charge.”

Benji narrowed his eyes at Buggy before looking back at you. “Do you want him in here then?”

That was a fair question and you weren’t sure how to answer it. Part of you wanted him to stay around and talk about what happened on your birthday, but the other part of you was still hurt. He said your name just now but you knew it was because Benji just said it; Buggy didn’t know your name until now. Was it fair to be upset at him for this? When Miss Pins said your name that day, he had just hit his head and been insulted all in the same five minutes, but he thought it was stupid and that had hurt when he said it.

“Boss?” Benji asked as Buggy pushed past him. “Do you want me to kick him out?”

Honestly, you did, but you didn’t want Benji involved in this nonsense. You crossed your arms and looked at Buggy.

“I don’t have any services to offer you today, Captain, so please leave the shop.” You said as politely as possible, ignoring the look on his face that went from anger to confusion to heartbreak all in seconds. “I’m busy with orders.”

You and Buggy locked eyes for a moment; you almost wanted to take your words back but he straightened up and knocked into Benji as he turned around to storm out of the shop. Fine. He wouldn’t come back if you didn’t want him around.

Benji followed after him and shut the door before looking back at you, giving you a thumbs up. “Good job, boss! I’ll let Miss Pins know you got rid of him quickly.”

“Thanks.” You smiled sadly as you headed to the backroom to finish your tasks. Your heart was hurting from that interaction and you wondered if you went too far.

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x you #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x oc #opla buggy the clown x oc #opla buggy x oc #sunny x buggy #one piece #one piece oc #one piece fanfiction

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sterekfests · 8 months

Text

Welcome to our Fall round of Sterek Fests! Sterek Fall Fest will run from September 3rd - October 7th in celebration of Fall, whether you enjoy drinking every kind of pumpkin spice drink or visiting a pumpkin patch every year. There’s a little something for everyone!

Check out our Rules and FAQs.

We also have a Discord you can join that has events running such as @sterekbingo and @sterekweekly along with @sterekfests.

How to Participate:

Participating in Sterek Fall Fests is easy and stress-free! This is a no-commitment fest where you can participate as little or as much as you want. Participate in one week and none of the others if you so fancy, or participate in all of them! We have an AO3 Collection for you to post all of your creations in! This fest is open to both Fic and Art, so create to your heart's content!

How to post:

You can post your creations to any website that you want, as long as they are viewable to the public, whether that’s Tumblr, LiveJournal, DreamWidth, or our AO3 Collection. @sterekfests so we see your creations to reblog them. Use the tags #sterekfestsfall2023, and #sterekfests for generic tags. For weekly tags: #sterekfestssweater, #sterekfestsbaking, #sterekfestsbonfire, #sterekfestspumpkin, #sterekfestshaunted,

Late Posting:

Late posting is always welcomed! The collection will stay open for late submissions.

If you have any questions, feel free to send us an ask!

- Liam (@sterekbros) & Dori (@evanesdust)

Keep reading to see all the awesome theme weeks ahead!

September 3-9: Sweater Weather

As the leaves change to a beautiful rainbow of colors, it’s time for Stiles and Derek to break out the sweaters and savor some cozy autumn days. Do they explore harvest farms and drink seasonal cups of pumpkin spice latte? Or maybe they take a hike through the woods or visit a corn maze? The possibilities are endless as they embrace the season and all the flavors of fall.

September 10-16: Baking

It’s that time of year when cool weather brings out everyone’s love for baking! Tarts, pies, pumpkin butter, cookies, cheesecake bars, and cobblers are on the menu. Is Stiles in a baking mood with the change of the weather, getting ready for the upcoming holidays? Is Derek making his mother’s from-scratch apple pie? Maybe there’s a local bake-off for a harvest festival, where Stiles or Derek is the undefeated champion, and the other has come to challenge them to an on-the-spot bake-off. May the best baker win!

September 17-23: Bonfire

The air is crisp and autumn’s arrival is the absolute perfect time of the year to take advantage of the cool nights and starry skies and to make memories around the fire pit with friends, pack, and family. Roasting marshmallows for s'mores and getting cozy with your mate is one of the many things Sterek can enjoy this Fall around the bonfire. Are they having a pack get-together at the rebuilt Hale house where Derek is hosting a bonfire party for the pack? Or perhaps they’re at the beach building up a bonfire to fight off the salty chilly air? Wherever you take Sterek this Fall, they’ll be snuggly and warm, enjoying the starry night together.

September 24-30: Pumpkin Patch

It’s that time of the year when everyone loves to visit a pumpkin patch! It’s one of the most Fall things you can do. Are Derek and Stiles getting ready for October, which is just around the corner? Are they picking out pumpkins so they can roast the seeds and use the rest for tasty recipes? Or maybe they’re taking their family to visit the games, including hayrides at their local pumpkin patch to support local farms and their seasonal farmers market? Perhaps the pack shows up for family photo ops for Eli’s first pumpkin patch visit! The possibilities are abundant, along with those cute adorable pumpkins we can only enjoy during the Fall season.

October 1-7: Haunted House

Phantoms and demons and ghosts, oh my! With Halloween around the corner, Stiles and Derek would certainly be brave enough to visit a haunted house or two, racing each other to see who would make it out first. Or maybe they work in one, chasing screaming patrons through the attraction. Either way, their wild energy and fearlessness would make for some thrilling entertainment.

@teenwolffandomevents @thebigbangblogproject @sterekevents

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suguwu · 10 months

Text

mondstadt: terroir

“Don’t tease,” you chastise.

He tightens his grip on your ankle, his other hand tracing higher, dragging delicate over your calf.

“Oh, darling,” he says. “I’ve barely even started.”

minors and ageless blogs dni!

pairing: pantalone x f!reader

notes: what's this? the first chapter of mr. worldwide almost a year after i released the masterlist? yeah. yeah. sorry about that. but i hope you enjoy!

tags: established relationship (married), reader is called "darling" and "wife", wine play, oral (f!receiving), reader has pubic hair.

wc: 2k

Mondstadt is as pretty as ever.

The burgeoning spring brings a verdant flush to the land, the high grasses swaying emerald in the endless wind of the nation, and the apple blossoms blooming pink on their branches, a soft spill of dawn caught in petals. New life abounds in every corner of the nation.

It’s so different from Snezhnaya.

The Dandelion Sea feels endless as you pass through it, the vast field of the treasured flowers stretching as far as the eye can see, kissing the bright blue of the mid-morning sky’s horizon. You watch a crimson fox scamper through the dandelions. Despite the Anemo energy keeping them whole in the playful breeze, a few delicate seeds catch in its coat, little white speckles like a flurry of snow.

“You seem pleased,” Pantalone says, without looking up from the ledger he’s been focusing on.

“Do I?” you ask.

“Don’t play coy, darling,” he tells you.

He makes a note. It joins pages and pages of other notes, each a meticulous observation in a hard-earned elegant script. Each loop of his pen is a slow, familiar flourish.

“I would never.”

He hums. “Of course not. How silly of me.”

“Yes, how silly of you.”

He glances up for a moment, one elegant brow raised. He contemplates you for an instant, a little smile on his lips, before he returns his attention to the ledger.

You pout.

“Do not give me that look,” he says, writing another note with an elegant flick of his wrist.

“What look?”

He doesn’t look up. “The one on your pretty lips,” he says. “I do so hate to see you pout.”

“Then pay attention to me.”

“Soon, darling.”

“Now, darling.”

“Such a demanding little thing,” he says, but he’s putting down his pen, tucking it away with the ledger. You watch the way the tendons in his hands flex, how careful his long, strong fingers are. His rings catch the light, gleaming in the golden sunshine, and you think of how many times you’ve tasted the metal when he has sunk his fingers into your mouth.

When you glance up, Pantalone’s lips have a knowing curve to them.

You’re unperturbed; your husband knows your appetite for all things better than most. Your appetite for him most of all.

Still, you say nothing, though an answering little smile blooms on your lips. You turn your gaze back out the window, watching the idyllic countryside roll by, the trees whispering in the breeze, the flowers dotting the grass like stars in the sky swaying.

“I thought you wanted my attention, darling,” Pantalone says.

You sniff. “Perhaps you took too long.”

“I see,” he says, deeply fond. “A mistake I shan’t make again.”

“Good.”

He chuckles lowly, the sound rich and deep as it drips over you like honey. Before he can say anything, the carriage rounds a bend, and a manor comes into view.

“Oh!” you gasp, pleased to see it again. It’s striking no matter how many times you’ve ridden past it, a towering thing that almost seems to puncture the blue of the sky. Even from afar, you can scent the flowers of the garden, the soft sweetness carried to you by Mond’s ever-present winds.

The carriage turns off towards the manor.

You furrow your brow; it’s the only thing down this particular road. It clicks in a second later and you turn to face your husband, who is idly looking out the window.

“I thought you weren’t going to buy in Mond.”

“Hmm?”

You slip your foot up Pantalone’s leg.

He glances at you, his eyes gleaming behind the half-moons of his glasses.

“You weren’t going to buy in Mond,” you remind him.

He catches your ankle, wrapping his long, lean fingers around it. His thumb strokes idly against the bone. A tender, silken touch.

“It was too cheap to let go of,” he says.

With him, that just means somewhere under ten million mora. You decide you’re better off not knowing.

It’s a wonderful property, the beautiful manor set into sweeping gardens lush with fragrant blossoms, the blooms spilling over in a froth of untamed color. Vines swirl up the sides of the house, whorls of greenery clinging to the sun-warmed stone, dotted with bright flowers. It rises high above the grounds, almost cradled by the sky.

It apparently once belonged to one of the eldest clans of the fallen aristocracy—some of the stained glass still carries their crest, flooding the courtyard with their colors at the sun’s gentle touch—until it was sold off by the heir.

When you peer at it through the carriage windows, you can’t understand how he could bear to let go of it.

“You said you liked it,” Pantalone says as you lean back again. “Didn’t you?”

You should have known better. Of course he bought an entire manor because you’d mentioned in passing that it was pretty.

“Or have you changed your mind?” he asks, his lips curling into something smug when you stare at him.

You know that look.

“Don’t tease,” you chastise.

He tightens his grip on your ankle, his other hand tracing higher, dragging delicate over your calf.

“Oh, darling,” he says. “I’ve barely even started.”

—

The two of you stumble into the first bedroom you find.

It’s lavish but not gaudy, the type of finery you’ve become used to over the long years with your husband, who insists on nothing but the best, particularly for you. It’s beautifully set up, with a wine and fruit basket on the nightstand, but you barely spare a thought for it, too busy trying to shrug out of your dress while batting away your husband’s roaming hands.

“You’re making this more difficult than it needs to be,” you tell him as he palms your tit over your dress, his big hand holding the thin fabric in place.

“If you weren’t so pretty, it wouldn’t be so hard to keep my hands off you.”

Your cheeks heat. “Shut up,” you say, swatting at his wrist.

He lets go with a laugh that drips with desire, warm and full of teeth. Your dress slips to the floor, a silken pool; he helps you step out of it.

He kisses you then, a hot, heavy press of his lips against yours, his tongue flitting across the seam of your lips until you open for him. He presses close as he licks into your mouth, one hand splayed across your back to hold you still for him. His other hand slides from your hip to cup your tit. He thumbs your nipple, a soft hint of pressure against the pebbling nub, and you gasp into his mouth.

You can feel him hardening against your hip even through the fine material of his pants.

He kisses you dizzy, steals your breath and makes it his own, and perhaps that is why you’re not sure how you find yourself on the bed. It’s downy soft beneath you, the sheets silken against your skin, and he pins you against them with ease.

You arch into his next kiss, whining your complaint as he pulls away for breath.

“Darling,” he says, annoyingly composed, “I want to drink from you.”

“Yes,” you say quickly, reaching for him to pull him back down to you, bracketing your thighs around his hips to feel the line of his hard cock against your cunt. You roll your hips and close your eyes, arching your back to feel more of him. “Hurry up.”

You yelp as liquid spills over you, eyes opening to see your husband set aside the bottle of wine that he’s just poured part of onto your chest. You catch a flash of the label and any admonishment you might have had fades away.

“Pantalone,” you say slowly, “that was one of the rarest vintages Dawn Winery has.”

The wine is pooling in the dip of your neck, a maroon bruise of liquid. It drips down your tits in languid rivulets.

“Is it? Good.”

Before you can complain, he dips down to you, tracing the tip of his tongue over your skin, chasing a droplet of wine. He follows the meandering path, his tongue laving gently against you, a sharp line of heat that goes straight to your cunt.

You bite down on a gasp as he flicks his tongue against the furled peak of your nipple, sparks skittering beneath your skin, before all you know is wet heat. You weave your hands into his ebony hair as he suckles at you, arching up into him as he palms at your other tit, pinching lightly at your nipple with clever fingers.

You’re squirming beneath him by the time he pulls away, a string of saliva connecting his mouth to your breast. Some of the wine between your tits trickles down your sides to stain the sheets claret.

“You’re wasting it,” he chides. You glare and he laughs before swooping down to follow the path of a droplet to where wine pools in your navel. He licks it up, drawing a long, hot line of his tongue from the dip of it to the start of the curls on your mound.

Pantalone curls his hands around your thighs, his fingers sinking into the meat of them, and spreads you wide for him. He lets go of one of your thighs to circle his thumb over your clit, smiling when your hips buck as an incandescent heat settles in your cunt, a bright burn of pleasure.

“I thought you were going to drink from me,” you say. “So drink.”

His smile grows wider. “Of course, wife,” he says, and then he’s dipping down to lick a long stripe against your cunt, flattening his tongue against the heat of it. He hums and holds your hips down when you cry out. He laves at you, dragging his tongue through your folds until you’re almost trembling with it.

He laps at your slick, tracing the tip of his tongue around your hole. You sink your hands into his hair and tug at the long locks, urging him to press closer. You can feel the way he smiles against your tender cunt before he obliges you, delving his tongue into you. He presses forward to push deeper and your legs close around his head as his nose nudges into your clit.

White hot pleasure sears through you, sparking down your spine like a shooting star. Pantalone slips his hands under your ass to raise your hips higher against him, his tongue pushing deeper into your wet cunt. You gasp as he flicks his tongue inside of you.

He feasts on you like a glutton, humming his content as you writhe, his strong hands holding you still for him, keeping your cunt pressed against his mouth. You tighten your grasp in his hair as you are wound tighter and tighter, the heat pooling in your stomach catching like kindling and spreading through you.

Your voice breaks on his name—his real name, one that is yours and yours alone—as the heat roars into a forest fire, setting your nerves aflame as you cum.

Pantalone presses little kisses to your cunt as you shudder your way through the aftershocks, tiny blissful jolts of lingering pleasure. When your thighs go lax around him, he pulls back. His smile is soft, but there’s smugness lining it. You scowl at him.

“Darling,” he says, wiping his gleaming mouth with the back of his hand, the uncouth gesture sending a frisson of heat lacing down your spine, “we really must finish the bottle.”

He leans up to press a sweet kiss against your lips; it turns wicked quickly, a heated claim. When he pulls away, his eyes are shining greedily. His smile has a wicked edge to it as he reaches for the wine bottle once more.

“I insist.”

#pantalone x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #pantalone smut #bee writes genshin

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blackdiamond1038 · 6 months

Text

Secret Life Secrets

Session 5

Green- Successful

Red- Failed

It’s a lot of words. So many words.

Scott- You are in a game of tag between: Scott, Tango, Impulse, and Bdubs. If you see it at the break, you fail. The game continues in the second half and if you are it when the session is over, you also fail. You succeed if you are not it at the end of the session. Yellows have to guess exactly who is playing to make you fail.

Tango: You are in a game of tag between: Scott, Tango, Impulse, and Bdubs. If you see it at the break, you fail. The game continues in the second half and if you are it when the session is over, you also fail. You succeed if you are not it at the end of the session. Yellows have to guess exactly who is playing to make you fail.

Impulse: You are in a game of tag between: Scott, Tango, Impulse, and Bdubs. If you see it at the break, you fail. The game continues in the second half and if you are it when the session is over, you also fail. You succeed if you are not it at the end of the session. Yellows have to guess exactly who is playing to make you fail.

Bdubs: You are in a game of tag between: Scott, Tango, Impulse, and Bdubs. If you see it at the break, you fail. The game continues in the second half and if you are it when the session is over, you also fail. You succeed if you are not it at the end of the session. Yellows have to guess exactly who is playing to make you fail.

Jimmy: Task 1: Hit a green name with a sword until they block you with a shield. If you kill them, you also succeed. Task 2: Find a green name with at least 20 hearts. Take approximately 10 hearts from them any way you see fit.

BigB: You are the red name’s secret lackey. They just give you instructions on damage causing betrayal or trap creation and you must execute it without arousing suspicion from non reds. You can show the reds this task, but no one else.

Lizzie: Every time someone tells you to do something, repeat it back to them in a quieter, whiny voice for the whole session. [Re-roll for harder task] Get the server to sleep through the night.

Grian: You are mimic for the whole session. You must join in with whatever joke is being played out at the time, they do not need to ask. [Pressed success but realized fail in editing]

Pearl: Original owner: If this book is in your inventory at the end of the session, you fail. It must be kept in a player’s inventory at all times. If you give it to another player, you must keep a slot open in your inventory. If this has ended up in your inventory, you must try and return it to the original owner. You will need to re-roll for a hard task next session if this is in your inventory at the end of the session. This tan can not be called out by yellows and does not fail if read by others.

Joel: Backseat game Pearlescentmoon for 10 minutes. If they call you out, move onto another player. You fail if you have to move on more than 3 times.

Scar: Starting with grass seeds, work your way up to a golden apple. Minimum 4 trades.

Cleo: You are in a race with another player on the server. You must convince other players to give you their front door. The player with 5 doors first wins. Beware of yellow names.

Gem: You are in a race with another player on the server. You must convince other players to give you their front door. The player with 5 doors first wins. Beware of yellow names.

Mumbo: Turn any collaborative effort with another player into a competition. If you are called out, you can no longer compete with that player. You must win a minimum of 3 of the competitions.

Etho: You are a weeping angel. if someone is looking directly at you, you must not walk, run, or sneak. You can still turn, but not move for the whole session.

Skizz: Do the opposite of what green names instruct you to do, but not yellows.

Martyn: Task 1: Create a damaging trap in someone’s base. You succeed when it’s unintentionally triggered. If it’s discovered, you must make a new one. You can make multiple until one is triggered successfully. Task 2: Go invisible and hit at least 5 other people with a sword within one minute without being hit back. Task 3: Find a green name with at least 20 hearts. Take approximately 10 hearts from them any way you see fit. [Unfinished this session]

lemme know if I missed anything :)

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