#soz for how dark it got

[tartsinarat]

Woo okay, because I like designing ocs as it’s fun and doesn’t take too much energy so here’s my basilisk oc… number 3!!

…Aka the poor guy who got her organs harvested by Belos in order to use in the making of Pip.

Even though they’re straight up dead and have been dead for years I still love his design and vibe.

She’s a similar type of basilisk to Vee, this is important as that specific type of basilisk has extremely strong magic draining rate.

Vee and 3 did know each other, but Vee was really young. They met each other during experiments that they had to do together in order have their magic draining rate tested and compared at the same time to see which one had the fastest speed, uh 3 won most of the times they did this which is unfortunately why he ended up basically being a sacrificial lamb

To make this even more horrific fun

Some traits of 3 still ended up in Pip or well mostly his curse, obviously physically like the ears, tail floof shape and splotchy patterns as well as his red irises rather than the typical grimwalker magenta but also bits and pieces of personality/mannerism

Though Pip can’t copy other people but his curse is able to mimic voices/ sounds it hears perfectly which it uses to hunt/ trick people because of the basilisk parts being mixed in

it’s as smart as a parrot but in the way where it can repeat stuff for specific people and kinda knows what context to use it for though you’re not able to have a full conversation with it as it won’t understand anything

This really freaks Vee out when she first saw Pip in his full cursed form and it started copying 3s voice screaming in pain. (Its not got the memories of 3 or anything, its a split off part of Belos’s curse who would have heard 3s screams from when Belos vivisected her for fresh parts)

Pip later had to awkwardly explain to Vee that he has no control of it and is its own thing separate from him.

Vee is convinced it’s messing with her mentally especially as it does similar stuff to Hunter by using Belos’s voice randomly at 5 am to scare him awake.

It is very much messing with her and Hunter for its idea of funnies but this backfires hard on it as every time it takes over Pip it gets locked into the backyard like a dog (this actually makes it stop doing the creepy voice stuff after a couple times because it hates being outside in the cold.)

On a lighter note I can’t un-see how 3 looks kinda like the Salmonids from splatoon, that was completely un-intentional and I only realised like a while ago that he reminds me of them lmao

[reidsdimples]

hii! i don’t have an exact plot, soz, but could u write mb something with brat tamer Spencer and fem reader? demeanor similar to how he acted with cat. thanks x

Lover, Brat Tamer

My response to this request🥰

Hard!Dom Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

18+ ❤️‍🔥 MDNI ‼️

“I told you I’m busy” Spencer reiterates.

“Come on baby,” you grab his hand and lace your fingers between his delicately.

He keeps his attention on the book before taking his hand back from you. You stomp your foot and slam the research book shut.

He shoots you a heated, pissed off look.

“Behave,” he warns. You tilt your head.

Spencer is your dom and your boyfriend but right now he was the object of our desire and frustration. You had needs and those needs had been neglected for ten days while he worked.

Now here he is, in the office with those damned deft fingers scanning over pages as though conducting a symphony for your ovaries.

He opened the book back up and gently loosened his tie. That sight alone was enough to make your sensitive pussy drip. You groaned audibly and rolled your eyes at him.

This got his attention.

“Fix your attitude, princess,” he warned again.

You knew it was three strikes before you were punished. You smirked, back still turned to him.

“Fix it for me, asshole,” you bite out and stick your tongue out at him. You knew you were being a child but honestly you were fed up.

At that he slammed the heavy old book shut and stood to his full height. That dark suit made him look taller, somehow leaner, and you clenched your thighs at the sight of him.

He doesn’t take a step towards you, he just holds your stare for a moment as he undoes his cuff links. You tug down the edges of the button up shirt of his you’re wearing over your panties.

He waves you over with two of his fingers and you hesitate. You knew this was his favorite game, taming you. Putting you in your place.

“Now,” he demands. Your feet move on their own until you’re standing right in front of him.

He notices the way your attention drifts to his hands, already knowing how much of a whore you are for anything he does to you with them.

“Now. You want to repeat what it is you just called me?” He stares down at you, drawing you into his height and under his gaze.

You shake your head ‘no’.

“No?”

“No,” you squeak.

He grips your throat abruptly and takes long steps, forcing you to move backward. You grin as he applies pressure to your neck and the he lays you down on a cushioned bench in the office. You had been bent over this bench once or twice but as he stood over you, eyes like death, something between excitement and fear swirled within you.

You reach up and toy with his fingers needily, letting out a small moan as you lick your lips.

"Such a little whore for my fingers princess," he taunts.

He crouches down beside you and wraps your hair around his hand, forcing your head over the side of the bench and down as his other hand finds your throat. Your scalp stings but you love how rough he could be with you.

His hand releases your hair and travels teasingly down your body as he slowly undoes the buttons of the shirt. It falls open and your arch your back as the cold air meets your exposed skin.

He dips his hand into the waistband of your panties until you moan and writhe with need. Your nipples turn hard under his glare, under his touch. He tightens his grip on your throat until your vision darkens.

You whimper when he dips just one finger between your folds and circles your clit.

"So needy," he hums. He loosens his grip on your throat.

Instead of pushing those fingers into you like you so desperately need, he stops. Leaving you to soak your underwear and grind against nothing.

He abruptly shoves his middle two fingers into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself.

"Clean them," he demands.

You do, you lock eyes with him and swirl your tongue around them. Then he pushes them deeper, further into your throat until you gag. He pushes your head back further and shoves them painfully into the back of your throat while his other hand holds you down by your neck.

You gag and drool but it delights him as he watches you, his eyes cold as he enjoys you taking your punishment.

He jerks them out abruptly and you laugh, taunting him as you gasp for air.

“You love choking on my fingers don’t you?” His face is right in front of yours, though he’s upside down because of your head hanging off the bench still. You grin again. He slaps you hard on the cheek, sending searing pain through you. That stops your grin real quick. “I’m an asshole right?” He asks.

He’s undoing his belt just below your head, the sound causing your clit to throb with need. You say nothing to answer his question, but your hand drifts down to your needy pussy.

"Did I say you could pleasure yourself?" He asks and you stop.

Blood is rushing to your head from it hanging upside down for so long but then he grips your jaw and forces it open.

“You been a brat, Princess. You’re going to remember this every time you try to talk this week,” he growls.

He pushes his hard cock into your mouth, it invades quickly and all at once. It’s strange, it’s a new angle, being upside down. He braces his arms on the bench on either side of you and snaps his hips forward- pushing himself all the way down your throat.

You gag and cough around him, the angle allowing him to visit new depths. You brace your hands on his thighs as he continues to use your mouth for his own gain. God you wished he'd dip his head down and lick your pussy, but he doesn't. This is a punishment.

Your nails dig into his thighs as your revel in the feeling of being used this way, of the smooth taste of his skin, and the way the head of his cock is assaulting your throat. You’re moaning and making a mess of him but you keep your mouth open. He lets you hear his pleasure and you find yourself not wanting him to stop.

Even if your neck was hurting and the blood was all in your head at this point, his grunts of pleasure were worth it.

“Good girl,” he praises as you continue to take his relentless face fucking.

He yanks his cock free and hauls you to a sitting position in one swift movement. The room spins, dizziness taking over momentarily as you try to gauge his next move.

“Do you deserve to get fucked?” Spencer asks. His hand is gripping your jaw, forcing you to look up at him.

He adores the way you look, properly fucked and used for having such a smart mouth. Drool is running down your chin and neck, your make up running from the tears of getting throat fucked so deeply. You were dazed but biting your lip as you looked up at him.

“No,” you voices comes out in a squeak.

“That’s right, you don’t,” he nods and licks his lips. “But I’m not cruel,” he flashes you a wicked grin.

He grips the back of your neck and walks you towards a couch, he bends you over the back of it and rips your underwear away.

He props one of your knees up, opening your cunt to him.

“You were bad,” he tells you as his fingertips feel for wetness.

“I was bad,” you know to sound off. His two of his fingers push into you and draw out a moan.

“You won’t call me names again unless you want to be punished,” he whispers and removes his fingers.

“Not unless I want to be punished,” you return though your voice is hoarse. You feel the head of his cock teasing your entrance.

“You’re going to take this like a good girl. No squirming away,” he tells you. You know he’s about to fuck you as deep as possible.

You nod.

“Yes sir.”

Then he pushes into you, spreading you wide around him. He slams into you all the way to the hilt, causing you to scream out and drop your head. He holds your knee up, keeping it propped up on the couch as he snaps into you again.

“Spencer,” you groan.

“Does it hurt, princess?” He asks and pushes into you again.

“Yes sir!” You grip onto the pillows of the couch and take his cock as he slides in and out of you relentlessly.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks.

“No, please no,” you whimper.

You absorb him, you take everything he’s got. He grips your hips and pounds into you until you’re crying out like some kind of animal. Your orgasm seizes you without warning and the one leg you’re standing on gives out.

“Fuck!” You cry.

He catches you, and pulls out. He spins you so you’re sitting on the edge of the couch, facing him. He pushes back into you and you grip his tie and his shoulder for support as your leg wraps his waist.

“Spence,” you pant and shake.

“You deserve this,” he groans and bites down hard on your bare shoulder. You cry out but latch onto him harder as he cock slides in and out of you.

The room fills with the wet slapping sounds of him using you, his heavy breathing, and your own lewd moans.

“Taking it so good,” he grips your ass and throws his head back. The curls of his hair fall backward slightly and you kiss the long column of his neck.

Your hands find his hair as his pace increases, you know he’s close.

His cock starts to pulse and you feel streams of hot cum fill you. He slows his thrusts, his hips stuttering as he wraps his arms around you. A few more strokes into you and you’re mewling into his shoulder as you cum again.

“Fuck,” he gasps as your pussy tightening around his sensitive cock.

He pulls out of you and lifts you into his arms. Your legs are draped over one arm while the other is under your back. Your body is shaking from exhaustion.

“You did so good,” he whispers and kisses your forehead. “I love you so much,” he adds and kisses you gently on the lips.

“I love you,” you croak.

He lays you gently in your bed and pushes your hair from your face.

“Tea?” He asks.

“And a shower,” you smirk,

“Anything for you,” he plants a quick kiss against your cheek and hurries it the kitchen.

You sigh in contentment and try to remember to stay awake long enough to shower. You’d never get enough of him. Both his soft and dominant sides were everything you ever needed.

[temozarela]

-> miss you already

GETO X READER MDNI, smut, slow burn, fluff, angst, soft geto, comfort, mutual pining

geto finds you after his defection to say goodbye

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

inspiration (@ayyy-pee)

part 2

ao3 version

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The beginnings of dusk settled over the mountains, soft lavender clouds blushing as the amber sun settled behind them. You were settled at your desk, pen loose in your grip as you stared out of your window. The breeze was cool on your cheeks and you knew that it was probably time to pull the windows closed since the remnants of Summer were scarce, only obvious through the very last of the green leaves, of which were tinged red at the very tips. You could see the main courtyard of Jujutsu Tech from your room, meaning that you often knew who was present and where they were. Previously that day, you had watched Geto leave at 7am, then Nanami at 2pm, and Shoko and Gojo- presumably to the bar- at 5pm. You didn’t get offended about the lack of invite, after all, you often said no these days. Since Geto didn’t choose to go out much, you often chose to stay back with him instead. It was nicer than the sweaty noisiness of the bar Shoko liked. It was her special discovery in second year- a bar that didn’t ask for ID. The others quickly adopted it too, and despite them now being of age, they never grew out of it. You guessed they were emotionally attached to it now, despite the poor quality of the drinks. Geto and you often read together on those quieter nights, or you watched shitty horror movies. You had a tendency to be shyer around bigger groups, so being able to have time alone with Geto was nice, and you felt a lot closer to him because of it. You weren’t an idiot though, you knew he got a lot of female attention. It wasn’t uncommon for you to get glared at when you went out together, and there were occasions where girls had come up to you for permission to ask him out. Truthfully, these girls were often stunning, and part of you even resented Geto for being the one who got their attention, especially since he always politely apologised with a bow- or on his lazier days, he gave them Gojo’s number instead. What a waste.

You had been expecting Geto back at 4pm, but you hadn’t seen him come back yet. In an act of desperate boredom, you’d even checked his room, the training areas, the vending machines, and even the classrooms. Nope. No Geto in sight. It was a shame that he wasn’t there for a ‘just us two’ evening, but that concern was long gone by 6pm. Where was he? You had tried texting and calling him. No response. You had even texted Gojo about whether he’d contacted them.

Nah but u sure he isn’t stuck in the toilet or smth? xoxo

And Shoko.

nope.

not since tues soz

So there you were, sat at your desk, anxiously watching the school entrance. For a second, you had wondered about reporting him missing, however you shook it off. What could the police do that a special grade sorcerer couldn’t?

By the time it was dark, your back ached and you hadn’t made any progress on your homework for at least 3 hours. 9pm. Something was definitely wrong. You tried not to fret, you had noticed how tired he’d been lately- maybe he had chosen to stay in the city for a while to get his mind off things. You groaned, burying your head in your arms. You really missed him, and the worst part was that you were the only one.

See, Shoko and Gojo had the mindset of ‘if it was something he couldn’t handle, it’d be all over the news’, and you were more sensitive than them- you knew that- but it hadn’t stopped you from turning the news on anyway, letting it drone on in the background. Just in case. However, after a while, the hours of constant murmuring about war, murders, a girl being kidnapped, and heavy rain forecast for the next few days wasn’t doing much for your emotional state, so now you finally reached for the remote, turning it off, and by consequence, plunging yourself into deafening silence.

It was late and you were still in your uniform, you noted. You were tired too.

With a hefty sigh, you collapsed onto your bed, staring at your ceiling. The wind whispered, lowly outside, causing goosebumps to rise on your arms. You idly chided yourself for forgetting to close the window, but you couldn’t find the energy to do anything about it.

Finally, after a few deep breaths, you found solace in sleep.

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You narrowed your eyebrows as you felt your body being jolted, large hands gripping your face, and then your shoulders. Groaning softly, you turned in your sleep, trying to make sense of the voice fading in and out of your brain. It didn’t sound like it was from your dream… It was hushed… low… soft…

It sounded like your name.

Cold hands touched your face again, turning your head. In response, your eyelashes fluttered open. You were surprised, in your groggy state, that you couldn’t see your room. Was something blocking your view? Then, regretfully, you noted that your uniform was sticking to your skin, and that you never did change.

Also, it was freezing.

“Hey.”

You jumped.

“What the fuck.” You croaked, squinting upwards. “Geto?”

“Yeah-”

“Finally.”

“Look-”

“You fucking stink.”

“Ok, just-”

“No seriously, it’s rancid. Hang on, let me get the light…” You mumbled, blinking sleepily.

“Wait, first I should tell you-” Your numb fingers found the light switch, and you flicked it on.

“Ok, ok,” You paused, eyes widening as his figure was illuminated, and suddenly you were very awake. “What the fuck.”

Geto was dripping with blood. His face, his shirt, his trousers- drenched. You studied his face, head cocked. He thinned his lips, looking… mildly unimpressed.

“As I was trying to say,” He started, “I’m leaving.”

“You… just got here.” You muttered, squinting at him.

“No, I-” Geto sighed, running his dirtied fingers through his loose hair, “I’m leaving Jujutsu Tech.”

“Why?”

“I want to create a world of only Jujutsu sorcerers.” He swallowed, hands clenched by his sides. You stilled, mind buzzing.

“How…” You rubbed your temples, looking around, “How… did you get in here?”

Geto stared at you, dubiously. “That’s what you want to ask?”

You nodded. “I have other questions too, but I lock my door at night and now I have safety concerns.”

“Your window was open.”

“Oh yeah.” You mumbled, running a hand over your face. “Fuck.”

“I’m tired of the higher-ups avoiding the root of the problem, so I’m leaving.” Geto continued, carefully.

“Oh.” You said, struggling to find words. “Right now?”

Geto looked at you strangely, then nodded.

“Do the others know?”

Geto shook his head.

You stared at him for a second, eyebrows furrowed, a pensive frown fixed on your face.

“Holy shit!” You sat up, eyes wide with realisation. “Whose blood is that?” You raised your voice, gesturing at his shirt. You were so used to seeing gore as a sorcerer, it hadn’t even occurred to you that the blood on his clothes was anything strange at all.

“Don’t be so loud.” Geto hissed, “It’s just from some non-sorcerers.”

With a raise of your eyebrows, you scrutinised him, “Just some non-sorcerers’?” You scoffed. “Just? How many?”

He swallowed, “112.”

You blinked at him.

“Just… 112… innocent people?” You replied, slowly.

Geto breathed, deeply, “I had to.”

“What would’ve happened if you didn’t?” Your voice climbed as you gestured frantically.

“I wouldn’t have solidified my resolve.” Geto’s shoulders tensed.

You almost wanted to laugh.

“It’s always you and your fucking resolve, isn’t it?” You muttered, dryly. Geto watched you, uncomfortably, his arms hanging uselessly by his sides. A heavy silence hung in the air like a toppled vase, microseconds away from shattering on the floor.

You sighed heavily, crossing your legs, “So… what now?”

“Come with me.”

“Excuse me?”

Geto crouched to your level, hands reaching for yours, “I don’t care if you hate what I do, just come with me.”

You froze, fingers twitching between his clammy hands.

“You’ll have a home, an allowance, I’ll try to give you the best life possible. I don’t want to leave you here to work 50 hours a week and then to die at 26.”

He had a point.

It was a good offer.

Your eyes darted between Geto’s dark ones. “Why me? Shouldn’t you take Gojo?”

“I couldn’t, even if I wanted to.” Geto squeezed your hands tightly. “Satoru enjoys it- fighting with the higher ups and spending his free time exorcising curses. It’s who he is. It’s not who you are, though.”

“It’s not.” You agreed, softly.

Geto moved to perch on your bed, but you swatted his shoulder, silently gesturing at his bloody clothing. He nodded, an amused glint in his eyes, as he moved to politely kneel on the floor. You climbed out of your bed to sit next to him, shivering slightly at the iciness of the wooden floorboards. Stretching your legs in front of you, you slowly exhaled.

At least he was safe, right?

To be honest, you still didn’t really know what to think of it. It’s not something you had even thought to prepare yourself for. You’d miss him if he left, you knew that. He knew that you didn’t enjoy being a sorcerer, and you were a little pissed that he had used it against you, but he wasn’t wrong. Being a curse user with him didn’t sound half bad, either. It wasn’t an easy decision to make though and he had to understand that.

“We need to get you out of those clothes.” You murmured.

Geto looked at you, “Do you even have anything I can change into?”

You shook your head, “I can stop by your room, I’ll get a bath running.”

“We can’t.” He replied, “I don’t want to be seen.”

“It’s 2am, Geto.” You said shortly after sparing a glance at your clock, “We’ll be fine.”

Geto looked hesitant as you stood up, offering him a hand.

The walk to the bathroom was silent as you snuck past the dorms. Gojo and Shoko were long asleep, so being caught wasn’t too much of a concern. After retrieving a few bits from Geto’s room, you crept into the bathroom, locking the door behind you. The tiles were cold under your bare feet, but you paid it no mind as you turned the bath tap on, waiting for the water to run hot. Behind you, Geto changed out of his ruined uniform, and you willed yourself not to look. Silence settled over the two of you again, but you knew this time it was because you were deep in thought. Once the tub was full, you turned the tap off, stepping back to allow Geto to climb in. He thanked you softly before stepping in, but your eyes were fixed on the floor as your cheeks heated. When you looked up again, you saw that he was mostly submerged by the water, the ends of his inky hair soaked and curling as it floated in the crystalline water. He watched you expectantly, his gaze sweet and warm, like honey, as you rolled your sleeves up.

Carefully, you poured some of the water over his hair using a cup. You then reached for the shampoo. After pouring a dollop onto your palms, you massaged it onto his scalp. He leaned back, sighing softly as you washed his hair, fingernails gently scratching his skull.

“Where are you going next?” You started, continuing to wash his hair.

Geto hummed pensively, “Who knows… Where do you want to go?”

Your hands froze in place. “I never said I’d go.”

“Right,” Geto said, “but you will, won’t you?”

“No.” You replied, defensively.

“No?” He sounded amused.

“Nope.”

“In that case, maybe I’ll go abroad…”

You swallowed, “How far?”

“Maybe somewhere pretty like Croatia.”

“…That’s far.”

“It is.” Geto agreed.

“Can I convince you to stay?”

“Nope.”

“Ok.” You frowned, resuming the movement of your fingers in his hair. After a moment you stopped again, “What if I promised to join you later?”

Geto sat up.

“I have too many loose ends,” You added, “I don’t want to regret this.”

“How long?”

You exhaled, slowly, “Maybe a year or two?”

Geto looked at you over his shoulder, his stare dark, “That’s long.”

“Well,” Meeting his gaze, you raised an eyebrow, “I hope you’re willing to wait for me, then.”

“I am.” His response was quick, maybe even too quick as it took you off guard.

“Ok.” You nodded slowly, “That works.”

The rest of the bath was quiet, the two of you in contemplating the decisions being made. Only the lulling waves of the water, lapping against the white porcelain tub, alongside both of your soft breaths filled the otherwise silent room. Geto’s hair was silky as you ran your fingers through it. In the light of the bathroom, you noticed how the finer strands looked more chocolate than black, notes of hazel glittering amongst the glistening, dark locks. You squeezed the excess water out of his hair, then dried your hands on your trousers. Afterwards, you moved to stand in front of the bath so that you could see his face. He looked elegant. It seemed that he had either lost, or chosen not to wear his gauges as his gaping earlobes hung, empty. You realised then that you had never seen him without them before. It was different. Previously, you had brushed his hair away from his face, allowing you to see him without obstruction, and you thanked yourself for it now. His face was chiselled, everything about him seeming so sharp from his cheekbones, to his jawline. There seemed to be more colour behind his tanned skin, at least more than there used to be. The purple blotching under his brooding eyes was still there from months of exhaustion, but his facial expressions no longer held that lingering fatigue anymore. He looked healthier, happier even, than he had for a while. Geto’s thin eyebrows were raised as he stared at you, no doubt because you were staring at him. You couldn’t help it though, the way droplets tumbled down his broad shoulders was hypnotising and you almost wanted to condemn the water for concealing the rest of his body under a thick layer of bubbles.

“Are you done?” Geto drawled, sounding equal parts charmed and bored.

You cocked your head, furrowing your eyebrows, “No, not quite.” You muttered, absentmindedly.

He really was beautiful.

In that moment you understood every girl who had given you death glares for standing with him, and every girl who had boldly asked for his number. God knows, you’d be too scared to. You pitied that they were never able to see him like this. Every girl deserved this at least once, you thought, it was definitely more therapeutic than anything a psychiatrist could offer you.

Lethargically, you stretched your arms above your head, yawning. “Ok, yeah I’m done.”

For a second, it seemed that Geto was trying to glare at you, but starting with the slight twitch of his mouth, he broke into soft, flustered laughter.

“Fuck,” He ran a hand over his face. “You really are something, aren’t you?”

Suddenly unsure of how to respond, you looked at him, wide-eyed, your cheeks burning.

Geto smiled at you affectionately, “Just pass me my towel, please.”

You nodded, reaching for the white, fluffy towel you had left out for him. When Geto made a move to get out, you covered your eyes.

“I was meaning to ask,” His voice sounded somewhere behind you, “how come you’re still wearing your uniform?”

Oh yeah.

“I didn’t exactly intend to fall asleep like this, you know.” Your hand moved from your face to pull at the creased fabric, self-consciously. “I was kinda distracted yesterday.”

“Oh?” The rustling of Geto’s clothing paused. “How come?”

You scoffed, “Because you went missing? I had the news on and everything.”

“You did?” He cooed, teasingly, pulling a shirt over his head, judging from what you could hear.

“…Yes.” You scowled.

The way he said your name after that was far softer than you had ever heard it before. It made you feel warm in every nook and cranny of your body, like fire spreading from your cheeks, and flickering inwards to consume your beating heart. When you felt his hand land on your shoulder, you tensed, chewing on the inside of your cheek with anticipation.

“I’m sorry.” He said, voice low and smooth.

You turned to see him changed into a white t-shirt and grey joggers. “Really?”

Geto nodded, “I didn’t realise that you’d worry.”

“Of course I would.” You looked up at him, carefully studying his face.

“I know it’s selfish but… I’m glad you did.”

His confession made you smile warmly.

“Stay the night.” It wasn’t a question, you knew that he wouldn’t be able to find a hotel room at this time.

Geto shook his head, “You know I can’t, my room is directly next to Satoru’s. It’s too risky.”

You rolled your eyes, fondly, “Stay in mine, then. Shoko won’t wake up until 3 in the afternoon.”

He opened his mouth to protest.

“This is non-negotiable, by the way.” You added.

His mouth closed.

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By the time Geto had tucked himself into your bed, you had changed into pyjamas. It was cute seeing him snuggled next to your plushies, it just seemed so… right. You climbed in next to him, unable to close the gap between you, despite yourself. Admittedly, you had been expecting some kind of argument over who would take the bed and who would offer to sleep on the floor but end up taking the bed anyway, but much to your relief, Geto seemed too exhausted to care. You weren’t going to complain. For a while, you just watched each other, wordlessly, eyes half-lidded.

“Will you be gone when I wake up?”

You knew the answer, but you asked anyway.

Geto shifted under the covers, brushing his hand against yours. “Probably.”

“Shame.”

He watched you for a moment, moving his hand to cup your cheek. Like many times that night, you met his gentle gaze, leaning into his touch, gingerly.

“A year is a long time.” Geto murmured.

You agreed.

“It’s a long time to wait to do something I’ve been wanting to do for months.”

Fuck anything you had said before about being tired, you were wide awake.

“Excuse me?”

Geto smiled at you, lopsidedly, “Sorry if I read you wrong but… I like you. I really do.”

“And…” You swallowed.

“I want to say goodbye to you… properly.”

Fuck.

“I’d like that, Geto.” You whispered.

Before you knew it, he was on top of you, muscular thighs hugging your hips. You sat up, hands reaching to pull him down by his collar. When your lips crashed into his, you felt euphoric. As his warm lips moved against yours, your hands moved to his hips, slipping under his t-shirt to trace the ridges of his abs. You felt his muscles tense as you touched them, paired with a low ‘fuck’, whispered into your mouth. When Geto leaned back to peel his shirt off, you instantly missed his body, but the sight of his torso in full was… jaw-dropping. Without doubt, you knew that he was the kind of man that the Ancient Greeks erected temples for. Everything about him was beautiful, from the dusky areola which orbited his nipples, to the trail of hair below his navel. You swallowed, running your hands up his torso. In response, Geto leaned down, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

Next to go was your shirt, which ended up on your floor next to his. Geto’s hands were quick to cup your breasts, fingers brushing the sensitive nubs as he gently squeezed them. You whimpered, softly, looking up at his focused face.

“Please…” You arched your back, pushing your chest towards him. He swore under his breath before pushing you down so you were horizontal. In an act of fleeting tenderness, he brushed your hair from your face, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, before attacking your neck with bites and kisses. You gasped as his hands roamed downwards, grazing over your stomach before his fingers strayed under your waistband. He paused his work on your neck to look up at you, silently checking on you with a sweet smile. You nodded, slipping one of your hands into his damp hair as you guided his head back to your neck. Without hesitation, he started pressing open-mouthed kisses to your skin, no doubt leaving a myriad of marks. When his hand breached your pyjama bottoms, cupping your cunt with excruciating affection, your stomach erupted with butterflies.

“How- do you- want- me?” He asked you between kisses, nose buried in the crook of your neck.

You swore, hips uselessly pushing against his touch, “I’m really not picky.” You rushed, becoming more and more desperate for his touch.

Geto snorted, pressing a gentle kiss against the column of your throat, “That’s not very helpful, sweetheart.”

“Just- touch me!” You whined, impatiently, your grip on his hair tightening. As you tugged, Geto made a low noise at the back of his throat.

“Whore.” You laughed breathlessly as he playfully bit down on your neck, his fingers finally slipping between your folds.

Geto smirked into your neck and you could feel it. “I wouldn’t be getting so cocky, if I were you.” He warned, circling your clit with his fingertip.

“Do your worst.” You grinned, pulling his face back to yours to make out with him again. When you pulled his hair again, he moaned against your lips oh-so prettily, fuelling the burning lust inside of you. You were hyper-aware of every graze of his skin against you, somehow his fingers against you felt 10 times better than you own and it made you insatiable. You could feel the coil in your lower stomach begin to snap as Geto’s tongue fucked your mouth, shamelessly moaning against your tongue. You were so close, soso close…

Geto pulled away, watching you with a grin. “Sorry, sweetheart.” He kissed your cheek, apologetically, “I’m impatient, and I really fucking need you right now.”

Despite your initial frustration, his words set your heart alite as you whined. He grunted as he lifted his hips, enabling you to kick your pyjama bottoms off, hastily. When you spread your legs for him, he sat back, using his middle and index finger to spread your dripping folds.

“Fuck.” He breathed, pressing his thumb against your entrance, “You’re soaked.”

Your hips involuntarily jutted into his touch, desperately searching for more.

“Geto, please.” You begged, hands clenching your sheets. His eyes flickered up to yours, his gaze dark.

“Suguru.” He muttered, starting to palm himself through his joggers, “Please. Call me Suguru.”

In the moonlight, the outline of his cock looked more impressive than any Renaissance painting you’d ever seen. You needed him so badly it hurt.

“Fuck, Suguru…” You pressed your thighs together, needily, as you watched him pull his joggers down, his cock hard and heavy, springing to stand against his lower stomach.

He was big.

No fuck that, he was massive.

You knew you had never even tried anything that big in your life, but maybe it was the way his precum dribbled down his thick shaft, you didn’t feel nervous at all.

Geto leaned in to kiss you softly, uttering gentle praise as he pressed his leaking tip to your entrance. Your fingers found purchase around his neck, fingernails digging in at the ache of the intrusion.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Geto groaned against your lips, “Fuck, you feel so good, so fucking wet for me…”

Once he was halfway in, he slowed to kiss your cheek. “Such a good fucking girl.”

Impatiently, you rocked your hips against him, making him slide in further. You moaned, gasping at the feeling of being so full.

Geto wasn’t faring so well either, letting low whines slip as he inched in a little more until his hips were flush with yours.

His eyes met yours desperately, “You ok?” He swallowed, watching you carefully as you adjusted.

“Mhm.” You uttered, weakly, “You can move.”

Geto nodded, cheeks flushed, as he experimentally fucked into you, the steady slapping of your skin speeding up as you begged him for more. With a groan, he buried his head in your neck, releasing soft pants and grunts against your bruised skin. You cried out, nails raking down his back as his pace bordered on lethal as he pounded into you, forcing your body up and down your bed.

“Mhmm, ‘Sugu!” You whined, arching your back as he pressed inside of you. Geto nipped your neck, hands securing your hips as he changed his angle, hitting that sweet spot inside of you that made you drool.

“Right there- right there- please-“

You wrapped your legs around his waist as he abused your cunt, the wetness soaking the insides of your thighs and no doubt Geto’s crotch as well.

“Right there?” He teased, but his voice was husky and it was clear he was approaching his peak from the way he grunted after. One of his hands moved from its position on your hips, instead pressing down on your lower stomach. You wailed, thrashing against him as the burning pressure in your lower stomach climbed. You were so close.

“Fuck, please- Suguru I need you-” You were cut off by Geto’s lips as his hand moved to where you needed it the most, his fingers rubbing your sensitive clit. His pace sped up as he chased his own orgasm, the heat of your core irresistible to him.

“Fuck.” Geto groaned, “Can I?”

Your thighs tightened around his waist against your will. “Fuck no.” You hissed between kisses.

“Shit.”

It was too good, you didn’t want him to pull out, and you knew sure as hell that he didn’t either. You couldn’t risk it though.

With a final pinch of your swollen clit, you came, legs shaking and fingers tugging at his hair as you cried out. Geto wasn’t far behind, swearing as he pulled out despite your legs trapping him in.

With a few final tugs of his length, he came on your stomach, panting as he watched his spend dripped down your thighs.

“Fuck.”

“…Yeah…”

You closed your eyes, basking in the sleepiness of the aftermath. Somewhere next to you, Geto moved, leaning over you before you felt soft fabric on your lower stomach, cleaning up his mess on your body and your own mess between your thighs.

“Thanks.” You muttered, sleepily.

When Geto finally lay down next to you, he pulled you into his arms, kissing your forehead tenderly.

“I’ll see you again one day.” He whispered against your skin.

“You will.” You murmured, ignoring the lump in your throat, “One day.”

Geto released a content hum which vibrated in his chest and throat.

“I miss you already.”

[darlingofvalyria]

❝—Aemond, just shove your fist up my skirt!❞

part 02 | baby, all you gotta do is trust me

chapter summary:

[ Cregan is a menace in bed (sexily), Aemond is a menace on social media (derogatory), Helaena is a menace (lovingly). ]

[ 4,715 ] [ series masterlist ] | best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader & aemond targaryen x alys rivers,

contains— smutty beginnings, a bit angsty, mostly fluff - nsfw: p & v sex, orgasm denial, degradation kink, mating press - lemme just introduce you to firefighter!cregan stark ahe - toxic alysmond but both of them are at fault, fwb situations, fake dating, slow-ish burn - sad sack aemy is a pathetic meow meow - viserys i has a spank kink, no i will not elaborate further - no use of y/n - no gods, no kings, no betas.

a/n— it's entirely my fault, i know. i made cregan too hot. aemond might be a bit op w/ his relationship with reader, but he & her have a comfortable past...soz. comment, reblog & like at will, mwa ♡

There's this thing that Cregan does with his hips.

It's always that sweet spot when your legs are either over his shoulders or haphazardly splayed against his waist, wide open as he drilled into you like a miner trying to find gold (and he would argue that in fact, your orgasms are gold to him)—

There's that moment when he feels you clenching, when you're so close to the precipice of seeing heaven that the motherfucker of the North slows down, sweat-slicked and breathing hard, he slows down enough at the haze of you reaching orgasm where he just.

Produces waves across his body, keeping a slow, toe-curling momentum with his hips, body-waving his dick in and out of you in a slow but purposeful movement— and he's smirking down atyou're fucked out state growing irritated doing something for him.

And before you're truly out of that orgasmic state, about to curse his entire bloodline of ruined orgasms forever or push him off his own godsdamned bed and break his stupidly good penis, he's bracing himself against the side of your head, laughing— not meanly, just amused, the asshole —and asks, almost like he's just asking you for the weather, "Does the pretty little slut want to cum?"

And he's not really asking, because he's grasped your thighs, shoving you into a mating press, and having you see stars in seconds.

"You think my neighbours called 911?" he muses, fixing his hair while in front of the floor length mirror in his room as you lounge about lazily on his bed, already washed and dressed for your own shift at Meleys, sans your pants. That's still in the living room from where Cregan yanked it.

"Hm?" you ask idly, not really focused on the conversation as you scrolled through IG, rolling your eyes at Aegon's post; Hel's big brother was in Ibiza getting sun-tanned in the morning (as much as his pale as fuck skin could tan) and getting it down at clubs at night, liking it nevertheless.

"Your scream at the end there was so loud, I'm pretty sure you broke Mrs. Beesbury out of her coma." You look up at Cregan's menace of a grin, playful and goofy in his tight shirt and thick work pants for his shift at the fire station. "I might be expecting five jars of honey from Mr. Beesbury as thanks."

You roll your eyes at him, laughing. He always got like this post-orgasm; loose and goofy and prone to making the dumbest jokes. It's cute, and on a good day, it does it for you.

It's not like you don't find Cregan attractive. It's how you got into this FWB situation with him in the first place; the dark hair, the scruff on his face, the firefighter bod— and by the Seven, what. A. Bod — when he and his co-workers stumbled into Meleys two months back, seeing your former high school crush aged up and hot had you on your knees for him in the back alley faster than he can hold you from the roots of your hair and grunt.

On a good day, it's easy to see getting past the easy arrangement of sending emojis to alert you wanna get dicked down and him sending a tongue and a heart, sending memes just for the hell of it at random parts of the day— breaking the easy friendship, the nice arrangement, and see where it gets you two, with Stark. On a good day, you can be submerge in the what-if, cute couple-y scenarios and giggle.

But despite the orgasm that could shatter a septa's vows quicker than you can say 'Oh holy Mother', your good day was tentative, broken with a click.

Aemond had made his first social media post since breaking up (the latest one) with Alys.

A darkened bathroom with explicit, orange-glowed lights that covered most of his person but not the slick show of water, freshly showered, against his torso, his chest, his abs. Droplets clung in places one would imagine licking him all over.

You know that bathroom to be the one in his high class gym, one of his favourite places. Since the toxic cycle with Alys started, he frequented it more. Aemond Targaryen was a man of routines and sharp o'clocks, so you know this isn't particularly off-key for him. But the posing (mostly) completely bare with water on his wiry muscles?

"Oh, this whore." You can't help it, as much as it irritated you— because it is clearly a means to get it across that he is newly single without actually saying anything, you can just imagine his DMs firing up with notifs — you couldn't help but giggle at the absurdity.

Aemond Targaryen. Publicly posting a thirstrap.

As public as his social media can get, it's a private account with less than 200 people.

A call rings in your phone, Helaena's face flashing, and you're still giggling when she half-shrieks, "DID YOU SEE HIS IG STORY OH MY GOD."

Your gaze meets Cregan, his bushy, dark eyebrows firing upward upon being able to hear Hel's voice while you winced. You put her on speaker as Cregan giddily comes closer to the phone.

"Good evening to you too, Helaena," you say warmly, giving Cregan's arm a light kick, mouthing, 'Don't you have work?'

Stark had the audacity to shush you, pressing a finger against his lips. You mouth, 'Gossip.' In a mature response, he stuck his tongue out.

Truly a wonder that not twenty minutes ago, this man had you keening over an orgasm.

Helaena continues on, "— I've had enough of this. I already have one slutty brother, I cannot have another one. There can only be two sluts in this family and no more. And that backlit? Seven hells, the whorishness."

"Hel, babe, you are not a slut." You meet eyes with Cregan who waggles his eyebrows, pursing his lips in an air kiss. "Trust me."

Hel snorts. "I know that, I meant my father. The whore of Babylon got nothing on Viserys first of his name, spank king extraordinaire."

If you could simultaneously choke on air and saliva, you would. "Helaena Targaryen!"

Cregan smacked his entire face down on his bed and ate his covers to muffle his laughter, his body shuddering as he did his best. His ass did look good in this view.

"What? Stranger may have mercy on me, but I tell you, before he died and before their marriage imploded, and at times traumatically problematic, they sure did get it freaky when they could. They gave it a good run and traumatised me in the process. I shouldn't have insisted my room was that close to them, maybe I would have ended up being an upstanding citizen of the community."

Cregan flips up, giggles spilling him as he muffled it with his hands. You kicked him again, trying to keep him away from your phone lest Hel figure out where you were again.

"Helaena, my love, compared to your brothers, you are such an upstanding person of the citizenry, the mayor should be giving you an award at this point."

"Right? Maiden have mercy, how busy do you think your shift is going to be tonight?"

You bit your lip guiltily while Cregan smirked, standing up as he finished lacing his boots. Hel thought you had gone straight to work, making up excuses about trying out a new recipe for next month. "Um. Not sure? Probably not by much, it's a weekday."

You don't lie, not really. Cregan mouths 'liar' and throw a pillow at him.

"Good, I'll send Aemond to you tonight. I already told him yesterday and he kind of just made a noncommittal hum— praise hands for another traumatised child of Alicent Hightower who has his own brand of communications issues —" You can just see Helaena's hard eye roll, and you massaged your lips to keep your laughter. The first time you met Hel, you never would have thought she slapped-back self-deprecating jokes out of her pockets faster than you can think a response to the last one. She was sweet, kind, a floral, bohemian girl with her pastel lavender pants and daisy flower clips.

And then you met her, vibed, and there was a dark funny humour to Helaena Targaryen that you always fought just bursting out laughter at the most inopportune of moments.

As sweet and floaty as she appeared, she was a menace.

"— anyway, Mr. Social Whore is going there later tonight, I made him promise. I said if you don't tell me he didn't come, I'm posting every photo I have of him from his naked baby pics to pre-pubescent Teen Teeny-Weeny Aemond, I do not care."

You whistle. "Damn, Hel, okay, I'll tell you when he comes."

"Good. OPLAN Get Aemond Out of This Bad Track Before He Fully Becomes Aegon 2.0 has now commenced. I love my brothers, I truly do, but I can only handle one Aegon at a time. I cannot be scrolling through social media in fear for my life times two, bestie, I refuse." Hel's voice pitches. "I'll talk to you later, bye, babe."

"Bye, Hel!"

Before you could put the phone down, she calls out, teasing, "BYE CREGAN!"

Silence. Then Cregan laughs, calling out, "Bye, Hel!"

The last thing either of you heard is her tinkling giggle before she drops the call.

"Fuck," you mutter, call finished.

Cregan wolf-whistles. "She's good."

You throw another pillow. "It's because you kept giggling like a schoolgirl!"

"Excuse me, that was a manly schoolgirl giggle, I'll have you know." He picks up his keys, winking. "Come on, I'll drop you off at the bar before I pole dance the night away to my job."

You cracked, snorting through the mental image of Cregan Stark, Lead Firefighter of the Ice Wolves Division, shaking his ass on the pole. You pad to the living room. "I'll give you a dollar for your troubles."

"Cheap ass!" he shouts after you.

Aemond arrives two hours into your shift, a little awkward— no doubt remembering your silent judgment of him the morning of his post-break up affair as that has also been the last interaction you've had with him before this, almost a week ago, and now here, meeting you at the insistence (and plotting) of his sister.

Your eyes meet ice water blue. He freezes, then straightens up, giving you a shrewd tilt forward. A nod. It's jerky, mechanical. You roll your eyes, mouth twitching, before you motion him over.

You are already making his favoured drink starter, Sazerac, when he slides into an empty seat on the bar. Your back is to him, refusing anymore interaction, and you know the usual comfort he finds in the eased silence you provide is nonexistent.

Out of all of Helaena's brothers, you've always liked Aemond the most. You teased him it was because the others are Aegon, duh, and Daeron, still in high school and never really around you "old people", but it's also because it's so easy to be around Aemond. When Helaena introduced you to the tall, lithe man who hummed politely at his sister's introduction of you, you found him intriguing.

It's not just the scarred eye, or the pretty, almost marble-statue visage (because by gods, seriously. The Mother took her sweet, loving time crafting the fourth Targaryen, bloody hell— like those cheekbones? With that cupid's bow lip? Okay, Mother, you have your favourites, we get it), or that he tended to keep himself in the background, let everyone else stretch into the conversation.

He often dipped in and out of the social pool like a mirage; a trick of the eye. A nod, a hum— almost, always an answer to someone else's direct question or someone— usually Aegon — dragging him into the conversation with an anecdote needing an input, not matter how inane.

And it intrigued you.

You took yourself and your drink of choice at the time— a Shirley Temple — and sat right beside him. He looked up at you, that one eye of violet widening slightly because you had just. Plopped beside him, thighs touching, before he smoothens out his expression, shifting at your direct eye contact and small smile.

"Can I... help you?" he finally asks, thoroughly waylaid but trying not to appear so.

"The scar." You nodded to his face as he froze. "Tell me about it."

His face had been so controlled, so guarded, when he tersely said, "My sister didn't tell you?"

"Nope. It's not something for her to tell me, isn't it? It's a personal thing. Most scars are." You shrugged. "Even if they aren't, I'd prefer if you tell me. It's your body. Your body your story."

He stared at you for a quarter of a minute before he asked, "Are you drunk?"

"No, why?"

"You're too... forward."

You smirked. "I've been told. So are you telling me or nah, pretty boy?"

And he stared at you for a minute longer, or two, or three— the stare flickers to emotions so fast; shock, confusion, flatter, his own intrigue — before he told you about a stupid fight between children, about a stupid reason par another, and though his words had been concise, obviously keeping a hell of a lot more between vowels and tightened jaw, you don't press him. You let him talk.

At the end, you said, "Badass. Definitely less of a lame reason than what I was imagining, but 9/10 story. Your voice really sold most of it. It's good for telling stories."

In his brain, you could just see the click when his eyes flicked to his sister and back to you. Ah, so that's how they're friends. And he hums, truly, more than anything, stumped by you. And you smiled.

"You're definitely going to be my favourite Targaryen Brother."

It's no wonder then, that you two had gotten close. You had forced a friendship out of him, and the very unattached guy to literally anything new— suspicious of offerings, angry at pity, wary of kindness — had taken into it with a white flag.

So when the whole Alys situation happened, things shifted.

"Sazerac," you announce finally, placing the drink in front of him. He thanks you with a quiet hum, having stopped fidgeting now that you've acknowledged his existence. You raise your eyebrow as his sips turns to gulp, crossing your arms.

Just because you had promised Hel you were going to help him, doesn't mean you were going to make it easy for him. He knows you're pissed; despite the calm structure he had composed himself in, you can see the twitch in his fingers, the way his eye turned away from you the moment you refused to project your normal, warm aura with him.

He settles his drink down, watching the rim of the glass for a minute before he speaks, low and steady. "You're angry with me."

You snort softly. "Wonder why you think so?"

He sighs. "I didn't mean to. To let it get this... messy." He winces at the word, hating it.

You sigh. "Aemy." He comes alive at the familiar nickname, sitting straighter, a relief on the edge of a cliff. "Honestly, I don't give a shit. You want to be trapped in this mess? You don't want to listen to other people tellign you, 'hey dude, maybe no?'"

He winces, remembering the third time he and Alys had broken up. The police car, Aegon vomitting, Hel crying. It makes you roll your eyes.

"Sure, have at it. Have fun, in fact. There's only so much sympathy I can give you for seeking out the problem that you know is a problem before I get tired. Before I stop giving a shit, because there's someone else I love that is starting to get hurt by it. I can only love you enough as much as you are willing to help yourself." Your eyes then narrow, half-glaring into him. "But what I'm truly getting angry about is how much this is affecting Helaena."

"I understand." He sighs again, calling your name but you raise a hand.

"Hold on, I have a bone to pick with you."

"Okay."

You look at him. A second. He waits. And waits.

He speaks up. "Yes?"

You sigh. It's hard to stay mad at him, you've always found so. "I don't know. I had paragraphs to say to you in front of a mirror, but now that it's you I'm looking at, everything just went away." Under your breath, you mutter, "stupid pathetic meow, meow face."

His mouth twitch. Ah. The familiar Targaryen smugness. Pinch Cocky Aemond is back. "Did my face distract you too much, ñuha riña my lady?"

You roll your eyes, unable to hide your own smile. If you called him Aemy, he called you the High Valyrian, his ancestral tongue, my lady. To tease, to establish comfort. You've always liked this better, being closer to Aemond than despising him for his stupid choices and big feelings he has a hard time unraveling, so he makes said stupid choices.

It's ease, it's familiarity, and you both fall into a high step.

"Okay, nerd, so what did Hel—" A customer calls you. "—One sec. Sorry about that, what can I get you? Ooh, nice choice, alright give me a minute." As you pulled a measuring cup and gin, you nod back to Aemond. "What did Hel tell you we're doing exactly?"

"That you're helping me... with Alys." A hesitance. "I know you don't like her—"

"— whoa, hold up, Aemy, I like her. I like her very much. I think she's a bad bitch, absolutely sexy, and clearly, she has good tastes which I respect her for." He had the good graces to blush, still sort of unused by the compliments you so freely give him. "What I don't like is how your relationship with her— here, hey, you're welcome! — has evolved. You were so good with each other, Aemy. And then..."

You mimic a sound of a crash and burn, and a tiny person screaming. He huffs out a laugh before sobering.

"I know." He sighs. "I don't... I don't understand it myself. There's a part of me that recognises I should walk away. And then there's another part that is just... it's Alys."

His palms, open and upturned, falls on the counter. Pensive. Begging. A confused, wanting penitent looking up at a god asking for direction. "I've loved her for so long." His voice quiets, like the words are sacred.

"I've loved her for so long," he repeats as if the words have worn itself out on his tongue, "it's hard to see past her. Ñuha riña, she has always been my future. It's all her. I don't know anything else outside of her."

You pour an Arbor Gold in a stemmed glass and pushes it to him. It's his favourite drink and he smiles at you, at the care, at the memories.

"I understand that," you say carefully. "And I already promised Hel I'd do it, whatever you need of me, to make her see you. But you should know that I'm doing this more for her than for you because... Aems, I believe you deserve so much more. A love that's exciting without it being harmful. A love that's pretty, as easy as breathing. One that doesn't hurt at the edges and pinches like a barbed wire."

"Is that possible for me?" he asks ironically, trying for a joke but you catch that lilt at the end. At that exhale. So much of his history had been broached by pain, borne from it. There are injuries that run so deep, they continue to bleed.

"Honestly?"

He places the wineglass down. "Yes."

You smile. "Yes."

You don't know if he believes you, or if he just indulges in your starry-eyed view of his future, but he smiles nevertheless, as best as he can and murmurs a gratitude.

It's pacifying, insecurity. You let it go for now because there's nothing you can say to a person truly down to trust your words.

"You're going to do this, then?" he asks. "For Alys and I?"

You shake your head. "I'm doing this for Hel and no chores for a month." And you, to show you that there's more past a future that you and I both know doesn't exist anymore. That if you prolong it, ignore how deep the barbed wire has gotten into your skin, it'll be too hard to untangle it when you realised you've bled out enough.

So will you just wear the pain proudly after that?

You shake another order in place, pulling ice and mint. You raise an eyebrow. "I've always known I was going to help. Are you willing to do this? Honestly Aemy, this can go two ways. One, she'll realise losing you is the worst thing that can ever happen— truly losing you to someone else, or two, she thinks you're truly moving on from her. And that's assuming she even thinks it's real, like I mean come on, it's me and you."

He arches a perfect silver eyebrow. You had already asked him if he gets his eyebrows done, and apart from Helaena messing with him back in high school, has been all natural. You think he's lying.

"And what is me and you?"

"Aemy, come on. I'm your sister's best friend. We're like... I dunno, family? She's always known that."

"Doesn't mean she's never felt jealous of you," he hums, swirling his wine with pinch fingers. It's elegant. Entrancing. The red liquid swirls and there are knots and strain in his hand, going through his arm.

And despite the bags under his eye, he still looks so good. Silvery blond hair wrapped in a low half updo, the shirt that hid nothing of his muscled chest.

His words sink in, breaking you from the hypnotizing reverie of looking at a marbled statue. "What? She felt jealous of me?"

He smiles gently, a little bit cockily. "Ñuha riña. Of course she did. Just because she understood your place in my life, in Hel's, doesn't erase the fact that you're gorgeous and we get along well. She liked you, truly, but she isn't blind. It's nothing that you've done, even she knew that. You're just too perfect."

You blink at him, unable to stop yourself from blushing. He chuckles meanly.

"Shut up."

He exhales a laugh. "I didn't say anything!"

"You know what you did." You give him the stink eye before you serve two more customers, thanking at a pretty hefty tip from one of your regulars, bidding him goodnight as he left. It is a slow night, you didn't lie to Helaena.

You almost don't catch Aemond murmuring, "I've missed this. I've missed you. I never like it when you're pissed at me."

"Good," you joke. "So you can watch yourself better. But yeah, I've missed you too. So how are we doing this?"

"I thought you had an idea, having agreed to Hel's plan before I even knew there was a plan."

You roll your eyes. "Well, I've had a few ideas here and there... it's more your comfort I'm worried about."

He frowns, pouty lips pursing. "My comfort?"

You place your palms behind the bar and hitch yourself up by your physical strength. He leans forward, confused still. You smirk. "Well, Aemy, I'm wearing a skirt."

"I... I don't know what that means, ñuha riña." He blinks his one good eye. "Nice skirt? You look pretty."

You force a pout instead of getting flustered by the compliment out of the blue. "I forgot you weren't all that popular in high school."

"No need for insults," he deadpans.

You laugh. "We're going to make Alys jealous, right? It'll be too much to hard launch my new status of existence in your life when you just broke up... but... if we can allude, at least..."

"I-" His frown deepens, the skin on his other eye, the scar, pinches as you see his mind whirr and whirr where your mind was reaching. "I'm still confused."

"Gods, alright, I'll just show you."

"Dude, bro, just put your hand under my skirt—"

"Ñuha riña—"

"Yeah, you know what, godsfuckingdamnit, if I alienate you that bad just shove your fist up my skirt, yes, Aemond, just shove your fist up my skirt!"

He calls your name, tips of his ears beet red, as a few patrons turn to you two, bewildered and a little amused. You wave at them but you sigh noisily at him. You're sat beside him on the counter, your phone on one hand with the camera app open, and you're glaring at him.

"Are you seriously telling me you've never placed your hand on Alys' thigh?"

"Of course I have!" He lets out a strangled sigh and groan.

"What's the difference?"

"I've never done it so publicly," he explains as calmly as possible, as if he's talking to a child. "And with the idea of posting it for everyone else to ogle. I've always just done it... under a table. Or. On her knee..."

"You're blushing so hard, you look like a tomato?" You snort. "I'm your fake Alys now, and we're soft launching an intimate relationship. This is basic."

"You're not my fake Alys. You're not my fake anytihng and you're not Alys." he says seriously, frown sharpening into a point before he exhales, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Can't it just be my hand over yours?"

 You frown, forgoing the uncomfortable twinge from not my anything and not Alys. "Is this uncomfortable for you? Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"It's not that, never that." He purses his lip. "It's the opposite. I don't want to make you uncomfortable with my touch."

"Aemy," you say softly, smiling slightly. "I am giving you permission. Wouldn't have suggested it otherwise. And you touching me has never made me uncomfortable. Now, come on. Hand on my thigh, pretty boy, so I can take this pic and get the ball rolling."

There's a second more of restraint, of holding back, and before you sigh and suggest something else— maybe he is truly uncomfortable with you, with you not being anything to him, and not being Alys, but is too polite to say anything — he places his palm, warm and heavy, against your exposed thigh.

It's a... new sensation. You've held hands with Aemond before, smacked it a few times even, but it's different when it's on a more... well, when it's not on a non intimate area of your body. New skin, new nerve endings to his familiar warmth and crease.

It makes you swallow how big his hand is compared to your whole ass thigh. Thumb to pinky and he nearly swallows the gaps.

He really has pretty hands. Knotted veins twisting upward to muscled arms.

Both of you nestle in the quiet, just staring at his hand over your thigh.

"Okay," he says, voice even. He's taller than you, always taller even when you're both sat down, and he's closer to the top of your head at this distance, his breath flutters against your hair. "What now?"

"I... take the picture." You blink, shaking your head slightly, as you take his drink and add your hand within the frame so it looks like you mean to take a photo of your drink and not the glaringly obvious hand on your thigh, before you you angle it. You take one, two, three. A few different angles before you feel you've got a few nice ones. "Okay, done."

It feels cold when he takes his hand away, giving your thigh a soft tap before it's back on the counter. He hums.

You get back on the work, choosing one and posting it promptly on your stories. You place Meleys' location and a kiss mark emoji before you post it.

"It does look intimate," Aemond hums, observing the story from his own phone. "But why did you post it on your account and not mine?"

"She's your ex, Aemy," you say, hopping off the chair and moving back behind the counter. The world re-orbits. Everyone back in their positions, the lines clear. The planets move in their normal trajectory again.

"She'll know it's your hand. And if we post it on mine, it has more of an impact, don't you think? We're friends on IG. She sees it on my stories, a man's hand on her thigh, in a background that's no doubt a bar. The hand is sorta familiar. And you posted that slutty mirror pic earlier tonight."

He blushes, you smirk. Planets and moons orbit back, their pace slow, their lightyears fast. Best friend's sister. Sister's best friend.

"If she doesn't recognise your hand at first, your story will prompt it on her brain. It's not a hard connection, you've been together for years. It's a girl thing. An exes thing. Bingo bango, the brain is running. Surely it isn't Aemond's hand? Even if it is... is it truly romantic?"

He exhales. "You're... kind of an evil genius."

"Just kind of? Damn." And you smile because he laughs, the sound spreading warmth across your chest.

Yeah, this is better. It always feels good when you and Aemond are on the same team, when you're not mad at him and vice versa, no matter how stupid the reason.

Saturn rings snap, black holes sink and swim in galaxies so far, far away.

You put your phone on DND as soon as the first five notifs pop up, prompting a barrage of other notifications. When you took a glance at it, it's all a varying degree of 'WHAT THE FUCK', 'WHO THE FUCK', and 'GO GET THAT DICK, GIRL OMG!!'

Only Helaena's message matters, and it brings a smile on your lips.

 'Noice'.

Another ping.

'Also— what a bunch of harlots'.

You show it to Aemond and both of you burst in stupid laughter.

TAGLIST (message to be added! please ensure you are able to be tagged to get notifs): @fan-goddess @snh96 @valeskafics @opheliaas-stuff @tempo-rary-fix @fantasticpeaceharmony @diannnnsss @iamavailablesstuff @spinachtz @at-a-rax-ia @bespinnn @tsujifreya @moonlightfoxx @kemillyfreitas @joyouart @bananzaa @honey-on-mars @alexa4040 @cinnamonbambii @wintrr13 @wxb-slingrr

[aangelinakii]

LIAR, LIAR.

— would i lie to you, baby?

summary : in a world where it's impossible to lie to your soulmate, you think you've finally met your match.

note : halfway through i got stumped on where to go with this so it kind of begins to lack quality as you go further soz guys

they say it's impossible to lie to your soulmate. being a cat burglar, you lied to everybody you met, never found a soul worth being honest to. in fact, lying had never been something you had a problem with.

until you met the bat.

thinking back on it, perhaps you should have been more thoughtful about secretly infiltrating bruce wayne's office in the middle of the night.

it had been a bucket list hit; unsure what you'd find, but knowing you'd find something.

until the alarm went off. where it had been, where you'd hit it, you didn't know. you'd blown powder into the office, no hidden lasers. you'd been careful touching anything before you could find the trap out of it.

turns out the entire office was the trap.

when the alarm began to blare, it didn't take long for back-up to show; not when it's bruce wayne's name involved.

and that's how you found yourself cuffed to a table in the gotham city police department, tapping your booted foot impatiently against the tile. it wasn't your first time in one of these things, but you always had your way of getting out.

the door behind you opened, and a heavy footstep hit the ground, causing your ears to perk up. with each step, the officer came closer, slower than any you'd ever met; each step more demanding. didn't know they were hiring.

but as the figure slumped down opposite you, you realised why they had left you alone for so long.

dark, a great contrast to the pale walls, tall. behind that mask, his eyes bored into yours, and all confidence drained from your pores like the pull of a plug.

there was no way you could lie to this man.

"i assume you know why you're here," his dark, gravelly voice thundered, sending a wrack of shivers down the line of your spine.

no, i was simply testing mr wayne's security system for him. you can ask him if you need. bringing in the names of the big people tended to do the trick, shut 'em up.

"yes." when you spoke, your voice wasn't your own; small, uncertain, truthful.

your hands clenched into fists, cuffs digging into your wrists, and molars ground together in the back of your mouth. what were you saying and why were you saying it?

"what were you planning to do in bruce wayne's office?" from behind his midnight mask, his dark eyes narrowed, and the lower part of his face — the only part visible — pulled into a heavy frown.

before you could even think about lying, the words flooded past your lips, and it was evident it was unexpected, from the way your eyes widened, and you flinched against your restraints.

"find something. anything." batman leaned in, eyebrows furrowing behind his mask. "don't know what he's hiding, but i know he is. a man like bruce wayne always has something to hide."

"he does," the bat responded almost too quickly, frame flinching slightly, so small you could miss it. he pulled away, sitting back in his metal chair, lips trembling beneath the cowl, like he was trying not to say something that was right on the tip of his tongue.

before you could ask any more, the shadowy bat rose to his boots, gloved hands firm on the table.

"what are you doing?" he asked, deep voice owning a barely-there tremor, and he balled his gloves into fists so tight his knuckles were probably ashen beneath them.

with a curt shake of your head and a crease of your brows, you gave a scoff. "what am i doing? i'm not doing anything. what's your problem?"

his firm gaze settled on you for a few long beats more. "tell me your real intentions at bruce wayne's office tonight," he repeated, some sort of desperateness in the undertone of his words.

"i already told you," you huffed back, making no effort to disguise your annoyance. "i just wanted to snoop around. i knew i'd find something. what makes you think i'm lying?"

"i don't think you're lying." now when he spoke, his voice was soft – vulnerable? "i just needed to..."

despite the batman's tall stature, one sigh seemed to cause him to deflate, and he stepped away from the table.

"i will discuss with the commissioner what should be done with you."

and he slammed the door behind him, leaving you alone in the gcpd's interrogation room, much more confused than you had intended to be when you were first brought in.

it was as if he knew something you didn't.

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

the first valentines day you spend as a katsuki's partner, you decide to buy him flowers. he wasn't the biggest fan of sweets and if he did eat chocolate it was in small portions and dark chocolate bc of the bitter taste. he always called people who buy special presents of people just because of a dumb love holiday pansies bc you should be able to buy your partner gifts any day of the year regardless of the occasion. at least, if you got him flowers and he ended up hating them, throwing them out wouldn't be that big of a waste.

he comes into his agency early in the morning getting ready for patrol, and all is normal when he leaves. when he comes back from his rounds, his secretary informs him that there's a gift that's been delivered sitting on his desk. absolutely confused, he goes into his office, unlatching his gauntlets on the way so that when he steps into his workplace privacy, he can just drop them off his arms.

he stops in his office threshold bc there sitting on his desk was a small bouquet of apple blossoms, daisies, and one large healthy lily. katsuki wasn't that well-versed in flowers, but he knew that these definitely weren't in season.

making his way over to his desk, he noticed a small card with his name on it slotted into a small plastic holder among the blooms that he plucked out. he flopped himself down into his desk chair and began to read. there wasn't much aside from the floors he received, their meanings, and a short message in a neat script he didn't recognize.

Apple Blossoms- i prefer you before all Daisies- i love you truly Lily- my love is pure -Happy Valentines Katsuki! I hope these don't smell too sweet for you xoxo

the prohero glanced at the small desk calendar he sat on the corner of his workspace and then looked back at the bouquet. he called you not long after reading the small card and you sounded absolutely giddy when you picked up.

"did they get there alright?" you ask as he looks over the assortment for the umpteenth time. he hums in approval. "good, i was worried they'd wilt or something on the delivery route."

"you didn't have to you know."

"i wanted to. for all the hard work you do, you deserve a treat. plus, who doesn't like getting flowers from time to time, right?" you purposely left out the fact it was valentines day, even though you mentioned it in your note. still, he chuckled at your innate nature to be so damn cute.

he's quiet for a while and you're afraid they aren't exactly to his taste. then you heard his desk chair move before he's shuffling around for something in his desk drawer.

"katsuki?"

"clear your schedule tomorrow."

"i mean i can no problem, but what for?"

"because i said so, dummy."

you laugh at him and talk with him a bit more before you had to let him get back to his job. for the rest of his shift before his next patrol round, he spent a lot of time thumbing the soft petals of his flowers and rereading their meanings.

the next day when you make it over to his place like he said, you can't help but notice the familiar bouquet sitting in a beautiful vase you hadn't seen before on his kitchen island.

"glad you like them"

"you gave them to me. 'course i do"

hugging his back as he makes you dinner, you giggle to yourself at the backs of his ears and how red they are.

-x-x-x-

a/n: i just really wanted an excuse to write katsuki getting flowers and being kinda bashful abt it hehe - p.s. i didn't proofread this and flower meanings may not be accurate bc i didn't do any kind of extensive research soz

[suengmi]

✧ all is lost ✧ 3k, r

hollowed eyes with dark circles splattered underneath. like clouds on a dark day, thunder waiting to boom. the man standing before you; looking like he's going to break, but he doesn't. he never does. what were you doing wrong?

pairing: lee know x afab!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

genre: angst, romance, smut [[[[emotional]]]] lmao

warnings/other: cussing, slight!arguing, crying, unprotected sex, shower sex, kinda? proofread soz, prompt

♡ masterlist ♡ please reblog if you liked! it rly helps and i love to hear your feedback ♡

a/n: HERE WE GO BEBEHHHH ANGSTY MINHO LOVE MAKING BEBEHHH thank you anon for being patient! i hope you enjoy eee but fr as always upset myself bc ITS FINGER GRIPPIN EMOTIONAL SEX YUCKDKD go away I need to rest rip

-

the first time you met lee know, you were in your black silk pyjamas. not really the best for the occasion you had thought, hair slicked back with a cat headband and eyebrows not filled in. lee know had come to your house to watch movies with jisung, your housemate. it wasn't often jisung brought people over, but you remember jisung mentioning that his friend was a movie buff like both of you were.

"this is lee know, minho sometimes if you're close." jisung had said, gesturing between you and his friend.

your lips formed into a straight line, nodding awkwardly. you just came out to grab a snack and drink. but here he was, being friendly and nice to you, openly making conversation. he had asked about you, what you liked and what you did for a job. how could you refuse? you weren't one to be rude. plus, he was really cute. that part didn't bother you as much. after a short conversation you had said goodbye, shuffling back to your room, a warm cup of green tea in your hand.

it wasn't until the third time he had come over to watch movies that you decided to join. you had carefully sat on the edge of the couch, trying not to get close.

to your surprise, lee know had slapped the cushion next to him, eyes still on the tv. you slinked down slowly, letting your silk pyjamas do the job for you. it wasn't long before he looked at you, offering you a handful of spicy cheetos. mouth full as he spoke, "want thum?"

-

when you had observed jisung and lee knows behaviour, lee know was very touchy. he was always hugging and laying on jisung, linking arms with him when they walked.

in saying that, the closer that you and lee know got the more he would touch you. always hugging you when he came and left, always asking if you were okay when you were sleepy on the couch, hand rubbing on your arm gently.

a few times he had dragged you from the couch, pulling you by your arm to end up steering you by your hips, making car sounds as he pushed you towards your room. sometimes, he'd even use your cat headband to hold his hair back when he washed his face. you didn't mind though. after he was done he would always put it back on your head, slapping your cheeks gently saying you looked cute. always with those damn touches.

this is what began it all, the way he touched you. he wasn't afraid of it and you loved it, loved how comfortable he was. every time he touched you, you'd reciprocate, seemingly just as comfortable as him.

-

one movie night down the track, jisung was asleep on the couch, your favourite ghibli movie playing.

"from yesterday!" you grinned, freshly brushed teeth showing. "it's my favourite."

lee know had laughed at your silly grin and said he hadn't seen it.

as the movie began you felt his hand lay on your thigh, gently opening his fingers. he didn't look at you, just continued watching the tv.

a few minutes or so into the movie, you peered down to his hand. obviously open for you to grab it. the urge over took you, just to feel his hands against your own.

fuck it. you had thought, placing your palm on his. he didn't make a face or jolt, but accepted the touch, fingers lacing with your own. it was like it was natural, like it was meant to be. this was the beginning of something simple, something new, fresh and exciting.

he smiled at you, his eyes lighting up like a boy who had his first crush. you returned the smile, head leaning down to his shoulder.

-

as the days went on you found yourself falling helplessly in love with him. the time went too quickly, never seemingly able to spend enough time with together. he'd always laugh, resting his forehead on yours telling you that you were too greedy. it was his favourite thing about you, how needy you were for him and wanted to keep him all to yourself.

lee know was your biggest supporter, always being there for you in your bad times. telling you he loved all parts of you, the ones you called ugly or bad, and the ones you hated. nothing was off limits to him, showing your whole self as is, not hiding any of your darkness like you did to all the others you loved.

he was strong, a statue in his nature never faulting. never was there a complaint, a rude tone or even an argument. he always listened, caring about how you felt and what you had to say.

not once had you been so in love with someone before, your heart swelling more and more as the months went on.

-

something was bothering you, you weren't sure what. maybe it was the fact that lee know hadn't been himself lately. there were occasions where you could sense he was upset, but he would comfort your worries with a kiss, pulling you into a hug letting you know he was fine.

he drew a line, it was one you weren't allowed to cross. you wanted so desperately to see what was behind the line, to get into a part of him that no one else had. the more you pondered on it the more you had realised you had never seen him cry, never had he ever come to you for comfort. so that's what it was, he didn't seek shelter in you. it made you feel useless, like you weren't doing what you were supposed to.

the last few weeks you had seen him more quiet, seen him more distant. anxiety jumped in your throat whenever you thought about it. his kisses lessened, the sex lessened and his usual smile wasn't as full as it commonly was.

-

it's about one in the morning, lee knows arrival wakes you from your sleep on the couch. he had given you a key to the house and you were able to use it freely, not ever needing to tell him if you were at his or not. he always welcomed you, never questioning it.

when you come to the door, your met with your boyfriend. you take in his appearance.

hollowed eyes with dark circles splattered underneath. like clouds on a dark day, thunder waiting to boom. the man standing before you; looking like he's going to break, but he doesn't. he never does. what were you doing wrong?

"babe?" you say quietly, hand grabbing his empty one.

"hey." he says to you blankly, pressing a swift kiss on your forehead. he lets go of your hand, throwing his bags on the ground and plops himself on the couch. he sighs as he takes out his phone to scroll.

"is it okay that i'm here?" you ask meekly, standing in front of him. he nods without looking up at you.

"are you okay?"

he looks up to you for a second, nodding again without effort.

expressionless and bored is how you'd explain him. you're frozen for a moment, not knowing how you should approach this.

you've got to say something, anything.

"talk to me." you say bending down, placing a hand onto his leg.

"baby, i'm fine." he says, tone slightly agitated.

he's never spoken to you like that. a dull pain aches in your heart. for the first time ever, you didn't feel welcome.

you bend to your knees, hands placing themselves on his thighs. "if i did something wrong, please tell-"

"it's not always about you." he grunts, pushing your arm gently to make his way to his room.

you didn't follow him. you thought about it, wanting to grab onto him and hold him. instead, you opt for laying on the couch. feeling like if you go into his room, you'll get the lee know that you didn't know, the lee know that you wanted to. you wanted to see all of him, just like he saw all of you. but maybe he wasn't ready. you had to respect that.

-

a small sound enters your ears. you're not asleep but you're not awake, somewhere in between. is the shower on? you're not even sure what time it is, but it's still dark. in your sleepy daze, you throw your blanket to the side and walk to the bathroom door, eyes still fuzzy in the dark.

the door is slightly ajar, rarely was it ever shut when you were in his apartment. you can hear the shower running, fast and hot, the steam slightly escaping through the crack.

"babe?" you ask curiously. it doesn't seem like he can hear you.

you push the door forwards a bit, barely a centimetre or two. "babe?"

still nothing.

this was new territory, you'd never experienced your boyfriend like this. although you didn't want to push his boundaries, it was hurting your heart to see him so upset. you wanted to help.

"honey?" you call one last time, slowly manoeuvring yourself through the doors crack.

still nothing.

just barely, you can see him through the glass door, his figure seemingly sitting on the ground. you approach the shower, sliding the door open gingerly, only to be met with your boyfriend in a state. his head is in his hands, hot water relentless and boiling as it trickles down his back. he doesn't look up at you, but he knows you're there.

in a small haste, you slip off your shirt with ease, now naked aside from your undies.

you don't speak, bending down to be at his level. your hands grip gently onto his, prying them away from his face with care.

the expression he gives you sends a sudden tinge of sorrow to your stomach. he's broken, an absolute mess. the rings around his eyes are red, dark circles even worse than before. red blotches stain across his cheeks, clearly from crying and steam from the shower. he seems hesitant to let you see, head dipping from your view.

still weary, you slowly manouver to slot yourself behind him, wrapping your legs close to his hips and hands resting under his arms, locking in front of his waist.

this cracks him. the tears falling from him worsen, as if triggered by your touch. you let him cry, your head resting in the crook of his neck. you sway gently, as if rocking him like baby.

both of you stay like this for a while, letting him get whatever it was off of his chest. you're a bit confused and anxious, still unsure of how to approach this, but you just want him to feel okay. you'll do anything at this point.

eventually he speaks, breaking the silence. voice cracking with every syllable. "i'm so- sor- sorry."

as if a confirmation and hush to his words, you kiss his neck softly. one of your hands raises to rest on his head, massaging his scalp gently. he leans into your hand, body slipping a bit against your own.

"breathe. whatever you need, i got you." you whisper, still rocking with him gently. "anything."

the breath he lets out is shaky, but he's stopped his sobbing now. you help him with his breaths, matching your own with his. this seems to calm him down, his breathing more even now.

"c'mon." you say, letting him go as lightly as you can to stand up. he quietly whimpers from the loss of your touch, staring up at you.

you hold your hand down to him, trying to get him to stand. "let's wash you."

you didn't question why he was crying, or why he didn't open up to you. maybe he just needed to come to it on his own terms, and you were okay with that, thinking about it now.

he hums lowly, eyes still red. he's enjoying your touches as you wash his hair, his hands resting on your hips.

"this okay?" you say, fingers softly rubbing through the hair on his scalp.

"yeah." he breathes out, seemingly falling asleep. he must be exhausted, all of that pent-up emotion he had been carrying for weeks.

tenderly, he grabs your wrists, stopping you from continuing.

"hm?" you ask, "you want me to stop?"

with no words, he wraps your hands around his neck, bringing his body closer to yours.

the kiss he presses on you is like a feather, the nerves in your lips tickling with every movement he makes with his own. your hands are still covered in lathered shampoo, slipping on his back when you try to deepen the kiss and find something to latch yourself onto. he senses your desperation to hold him, pushing his body closer to yours as your lips meld with his.

one of his hands finds it's way down your back, running down the slope of your hips to settle at the base of your ass, fingers digging into the flesh. you moan into the kiss opening your mouth a bit more.

to your surprise, he stops, looking down for a moment. he mumbles something, you can't make it out.

"huh?" you say, eyes on him.

"i said i love you."

the thump in your chest nearly makes you choke. this is the first time he's said this to you. tears form in your eyes, completely over whelmed by his confession.

"i love you." he breathes out again.

his following kisses are now more needy but still soft. the confession has you almost drunk, your mind lightheaded from the feeling.

nothing about this is fast, not with the way his hand lifts your leg to rest on his hip, kissing every part of your neck and shoulders. this intimacy has you feeling vulnerable. everything from your past tells you to run, but you don't want to. not this time.

he let's out a grunt, bumping you upwards to wrap your legs around his waist, gently settling you on the shower ledge. he doesn't even break the kiss, not even for a second. not wanting to ruin this.

you can feel him against you. he grows harder with every kiss and the motions of your bodies sliding together under the water.

when he pulls back, he doesn't ask for permission for what's about to happen. he knows you want this as much as he does. your arms sit loosely on his shoulders as he breaks contact, only parting to bend and slide your soaked underwear to the ground.

kisses are all over your legs, slow and lazy in their wake. eventually, he makes his way to your jaw, his hands pulling you flush against him, allowing your legs to wrap around his waist once again. you pull him closer, hands securing themselves around his shoulders as you press your face into his neck. you feel him nudging at your folds. his cock pushes its way past with no hand needed guidance.

you have to say it back, let him know this is his home, that you're safe before it's too late.

"i love you too."

the fullness surprises you. your strangled moans echoes off the shower walls, and he's deeper than usual. so much slower, like he's taking his time wanting to feel all of you. tingles of pleasure vibrate in your cunt with every time he slowly pulls out and fucks back into you at the same pace.

"really?" he questions after minute, almost stuttering, his hips lazily moving against you.

this isn't just sex. this was a full mind and body experience. you'd never reached this type of height before, completely engulfed with what's happening. it's like you're completely separated from yourself, your mind not comprehending things how it usually would. almost like hot flashes of bliss, you can almost visualise it.

"really."

the more he thrusts the more his breathes become laboured, yours along with his. his palms find their way to your cheeks to plant open mouthed kisses, hands gripping into you as if you're going to disappear.

"don't leave me." he mumbles, mouth open against yours.

you shake your head, your fingers now gripping into the base of his hair.

a frown paints across his face, his eyes staring into your own. they're still red, but they're filled with so much emotion. his previous sorrow ridden eyes are now beaming at you, enjoying seeing you come apart as his thrusts become faster.

"it's okay." you coo between groans, bringing his lips to hover at yours. "it's okay, stay with me, i'm here."

the grip he has on you gets harder. it's like you're giving him permission, permission to use every part of you for his own will. you can tell he's about to cum, hips stuttering and lips sitting just on the edge of your cheek.

the thrusts begin to lack rhythm; his grunts and moans are low, sounds of the running water still bouncing off the stall. so you let him fill you, his white painting your walls as he reaches his peak.

nothing in him wants to let you go, his grip on you doesn't relent. you let him do whatever he needs, even if you stay like this forever, you wouldn't have minded.

his head eventually buries itself into your neck, breath heavy and warm on you. you hear a small whimper, he's trying to hide it into your neck.

"c'mon, lets go to bed."

-

it's okay that lee know didn't tell you what was wrong, he'd tell you eventually and when he was ready. all he needed to know that you were there for him and that it was okay to be vulnerable with you. not all was lost, he was your maze, your beautiful confused labyrinth. you didn't need a map, knowing he would guide you eventually.

but until that time comes, you're happy being just what he needs.

[seungbinbin]

me gustas means i like you <3

ch 03. tutoring in session

warnings: she/her pronouns, mediocre writing (soz), brief mention of food; lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: oh god i struggled to write this one so bad ‼️ i am not the best writer plz bare with me !! i hope u enjoy this one i think it’s cute :) and let me know what u think! i want to get better!

PLEASE DON’T SPAM LIKE

ch 02 || ch 03 || ch 04

masterlist

[y/n]🫣: hey, i’m in the study room

[y/n]🫣: it’s C143 !!

changbin: be there in 5!

changbin stopped right at the door of the study room. he was nervous; he barely knew the words “si” and “por favor,” and now he was going to sit through an entire spanish lesson with the cutest tutor he had ever seen. he had only hung out with [y/n] twice. one time was enough to peak his interest; he wanted to get to know her better the second he heard her make fun of something seungmin said.

felix and seungmin brought [y/n] over again for movie night, and changbin knew he was a goner. somehow, she was able to fit into their little group perfectly. she felt comfortable around them like she had known them for years. they felt comfortable around her like she was the missing piece of their friendship puzzle.

he stood outside for a second, wiping his sweaty palms on his dark jeans and fixing his hair. he wore cologne for this and everything. if he was going to embarrass himself in front of [y/n], he was going to do it while looking and smelling good.

changbin opened the door as quietly as he could to not disturb her. he found her with a frown on her face, music blasting through her headphones as she tried to set up the table over and over again. there were tons of snacks, water, a brand new set of highlighters and pens laid out in front of her. he watched as she shifted them slightly to make them look perfectly symmetrical.

how cute.

the sound of the door startled her. “oh, hey!”

“hi, [y/n].” he smiled, sitting down in front of his pretty, new friend. “what’s all this?”

“oh, um,” she stammered and took of her headphones. it made him smile. “i thought i’d bring some snacks, you know…brain fuel! and water to keep us hydrated-“

“so nice of you, thank y-“

“also i got you some highlighters because everything is easier when you color code. and also a folder…is blue okay? i don’t know what color you like but i thought blue would be okay-“

changbin laughed as [y/n] rambled. she looked at him with a shy smile, and it made him want to pinch her cheeks. “blue is perfect, thank you.”

“okay, good.” she smiled.

“you really went all out, hm?”

“i wanted you to be motivated!”

“do you this for all your students or am i special?”

changbin bit back a smirk as her ears turned red. he decided flirting with [y/n] was fun.

“…why don’t we start?!” [y/n] laughed nervously. “i’m gonna give you a diagnostic test.”

“test?! this is the first session!”

she giggled, and changbin had never heard anything sweeter. “i know, but i have to have an idea of where you’re at! you said you knew some basics?”

“yeah…yeah, yeah. okay.” he looked over the first page and almost broke a sweat. “cool, cool, cool.”

“stop staring at me like that.” [y/n] muttered as she graded changbin’s test.

“why not?”

“makes me nervous.”

“do i make you nervous?”

she froze, blinking rapidly and willing her cheeks to stop heating up. the whole session had been spent like this: changbin making flirty little remarks, and her not knowing how to respond. it was ridiculous how giddy he made her, and she needed it to stop immediately.

[y/n] had made herself a promise when she got on the flight to korea: no dating during her semester abroad. she couldn’t afford to have serious feelings for someone if she was bound to leave. she couldn’t do that to herself. she couldn’t do that to anyone. so whatever was going through her mind about changbin, whatever was making her blush and stutter, needed to stop.

she rolled her eyes playfully. “whatever…back to spanish.”

“how did i do?”

“…real bad.”

“oh-“

“yah, seo changbin! you lied to me!”

“i just- look, i just wanted to impress you!”

the sight of changbin, her new friend who was just so big and buff, blushing in embarrassment made [y/n] giggle in amusement. he was so cute…in like, a friend way or whatever.

“ah, what am i gonna do with you.” she sighed, smile still on her face, his ears still reddened with slight embarrassment.

“i will work so hard, this is my oath to you.”

“shut up,” she smacked him in the arm with the test. “let’s start from the basics.”

taglist: @hanjistarss @burningchaosdeer @tasteskz-sworld @soupbinlily @luvrhyune @cookielino @vumiixlyy @lethallyprotected @hwgyun

please send an ask if you’d like to be added !!

[greenlightbulbonawire]

Misfits (yeah like the Arcane song)

XXVI.

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Author's note: Took a longer break soz, but yeah I'm doing summer stuff and basically just forget to post, I'll try to be better but no promises :]

Twenty third chapter

Masterlist

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You tried to follow the way Vi, Caitlyn and Ekko went before the whole bridge situation, becouse otherwise from that, you had no idea how to get anywhere from the base. Buf your memory was good and you remembered every single footstep they took and you were now walking over. Before the day started to wake up, you found yourself on the street with the Last drop, and from there you knew where to go.

You walked the same dirty street, the surrounding buildings painted with streaks of black ash and remnants of the explosion, bloody footsteps on the ground added to the atmosphere. The blown up factory was waiting for you arrival, welcoming you with fresh memories. You pushed them away though, that's not why you were there.

The half blown up door creaked when you walked in, announcing your arrival to anyone or anything waiting in the dark, although the quiet solitude fortified your belief, that this place was long deserted and empty of any life. You started up your hoverboard, it's weak neon green light helped you see. Your mind took you back into child memories, you were no longer injured, but instead of that you dragged a box filled with empty glass vials. The way ahead seemed clear to you, you remembered it like it was yesterday that you were last here.

Footsteps echoed through the emptiness and you slipped out from a corridor into a big open room, it's ceiling missing. You turned the board off, not needing it's light now. The air was hard to breathe, just like you remembered, yet now you were used to a totally different quality of it and that made it just more difficult for you. You walked across the room, looking left and right.

"C'mon, don't tell me that all of it got blown up!"

You muttered frustrated, and scoffed. But then you spotted the weak, pinkish glow behind a pile of bricks and wooden bits.

You took the unscathed vial into your hand and held it up against what little light illuminated the Undercity at day. The liquid in it glowed against it more brightly and you knew you found what you needed.

[boxwinebaddie]

Wait so did Ike knoww about Stan and Kyle dating? Also I'd love to hear abt Kyle and Ikes sibling relationship thats so adorable

soooooo long story short:

...y-yes. yes, he Does know.

hOWEVER, IKE DOES NOT KNOW RAVEN IS STAN THOUGH, THAT IS SENSITIVE INFO THAT IKE CAN BE TRUSTED WITH, OFC, BUT IT WOULD PUT HIM IN DANGER AND KY WANTS TO KEEP HIM SAFE.

but long story Long...

i'll leave it in the crotch. xx

( edit: so...my bad, baby. i accidentally went on a crazy TANGENT about ike and jerseykyle's relationship bc i love them a lot and their dynamic is very complicated, so if you want that info about how ike found out about ravesey dating...i gotta put it in another ask.

bc this...got Very long.

you don't have to read this. soz. >.> )

oookay!~ so i got REALLY excited about this because rm!jerseykyle and ike's relationship is super duper special to me, in that, as sp fanfic writer girlie who tends to lean away from a more gentle, kindly, introspective kyle and much more heavily into the potential brutal parts and menacing aspects of kyle's personality when i develop my style dynamics with, ofc, jers being the most brutal of all ncu kyles...

...the way that he speaks to ike -- gently, softly, tenderly -- the way that ike disarms him, the way that j.k. unravels around ike, bends for him, it's one of the ONLY instances written into my actual published canon where we see jers be extremely vulnerable. ( not crying, lmao! )

however, i will say, it was not ALWAYS like that!

*rings the cd re-education bell*

LORE TIME!

so, per my rm!take on the south park lore, ike, ofc, was adopted from canada around age five and he...was Perfect. he was this lil gorgeous, perf, lovely thing, no health problems, dark hair, i like to think his eyes are dark brown, closer to black, sweet kid, easy-going...

...and very NOT like kyle.

and, interestingly enough, i think, At First, that sheila and gerald were super obsessed with ike, cooed over him, he was the baby, y'know? which made jerseykyle MAD jealous of ikey and an Anti from day one.

which is also v interesting because rm!ike, really just fkn Worshipped jerseykyle, wanted to be close to him, wanted his approval, craved that brotherly relationship with him, idolized him...and kyle was NOT having it, dawg! like, it took him so long to even let stan in and let his cold, black heart be light and bright enough in some spots to do That, so he pushed ike away, constantly told him to fuck off/get lost

( i do think that ike's vocab being more vulgar/him being precocious comes from wanting to impress kyle/being influenced by him ), also ike was really fkn smart from the jump in a way kyle wasn't like, to me, jerseykyle has worked hard for everything, studied hard, fought hard, and ike was naturally a child prodigy and didn't have to work that hard for anything, all while being gentle and docile and kind.

-- but going back to STAN for a minute...as a direct contrast to how jerseykyle treated ike growing up...gods angel saint ravenstan was always EXTREMELY KIND to ike. stan never had a brother: okay, he had shelley but his relationship with shelley was even more complex than ike and kyle's relationship used to be and the way shelley treated ravenstan was similar to the way jersey was treating ike, so he Deeply Sympathized with that and endeared himself to ike, encouraged him, and the more kyle pushed him away, the closer ike got to stan.

stan and ike i think ALSO had very similar interests in that they both liked louder, heavier music, revolutionary/counter culture stuff, fighting the MAN, sports ( namely hockey ) i think as a gift, actually, that ravenstan gave ike his wayne gretsky hockey yersey and ike STILL has it ( yes, kyle was jealous ), stan encouraged him to be different and carve his own path in life and while kyle, obvi, was the person most effected by stan's untimely passing...it did also do a number on ike who seriously considered stan like a brother to him and was one of the only other people who Never misgendered stan.

SPEAKING OF STAN DY*NG THOUGH: this was when everything sort of...Flipped. because when stan 'died', whatever part of kyle that could love things also died with him along with a lot of his stability.

so on top of all of his health issues, kyle got really, REALLY gnarly ptsd, would fly into blind rages, got randomly triggered by things and see stan everywhere, have really, really sever panic attacks, had to be put on several medications, got into TOOOONS of fights, etc.

and ike...was just sweet, introverted, lovely ike. stayed in his lane, did his work quietly, existed quietly...while kyle was Loud and VOLATILE.

also, to tie in Another ask where someone asked me while sheila didn't take care of ike as well as she could...fair warning, i am a liiiittle defensive abt this topic because it wasn't that she didn't want to take care of ike or meant to neglect him AT ALL, it's just...when you have a a child who has a lot going on mentally and physically, is more of a firestarter, is more aggressive or more outwardly mentally unstable...

...that tends to require more immediate attention ( especially since kyle was sooo unhinged that he was constantly in police stations, juvie, the psych ward ) and sheila's attention more helicopter parent-y in that she wanted to keep kyle safe, whereas geralds attention was more negative, felt kyle was a failure/embarrassment :/// </3 )

so ike, by COMPARISION to jersey, was VERY low maintenance, did not require to be constantly watched to make sure he didn't hurt himself or others, and so, unfortunately while sheila loved him very much ( gerald just wasn't very interested in him as the second kid other than that he not act up/argue w/ him ) he got swept under the rug because of how pliable and pleasant he was personality wise.

so sheila really does Adore ike, she just doesn't worry about him nearly as much and because of how glaring jersey's issues were, she also mistakenly assumes he's mostly fine where...i really do think ike has pretty gnarly depression, tbh. he is stan coded, i mean that. i will say that him acting out is starting to cause a stir in their house.

anyways...i am sorry this is such a MESS but jerseykyle was watched with laser focus and because of this, ike got off scott free most of the time and received almost no attention. like all his accomplishments went unnoticed or were pretty normalized because the standard he set v young being smart/capable, set the bar high. ilysm, ikey. </3

tldr; ike was The Good Child

and jersey was The Bad Child.

but, in being 'good', he got extremely overlooked by his parents.

thiiiiiiis...is where jerseykyle stepped in. so basically his entire life he was staunchly anti-ike, but he warmed up to ike a lot after stan died because they bonded over talking about him a lot/that grief, and also grew up under intense scary jewish matriarch sheila broflovski and the serious shit show that was having gerald as a father...who jersey actually regularly took shit from so ike wouldn't have to, i.g. when ike did something less than perfect or did misbehaved or fucked up, kyle always took the fall for it and was the messed up problem child, so that ike would essentially spared from gerald's mental abuse/wrath.

ike was also kind of the only person j.k. had in the world, so kyle looked after him because...again...ike is very stan coded, kyle is very protective of the lil gentle hearted people and he basically raised ike in the stead of his parents which forced him to be hard on him in a way that sheila and gerald were not hard on ike...which created a lot of dissonance when ike was becoming a teen and kyle was in hs.

so, essentially while when they were little kids, ike followed kyle around, wanted kyle to like him, thought kyle could do no wrong, as he got older and kyle started to nitpick him, actually care about him and start enforcing rules/curfews on him because no one else did, ike developed a rebellious streak and started to not like or listen to kyle because he was like, bro, whatever, you're so boring, it's one party, oh my god, just because you're boring doesn't mean i have to be!!!!

it's mostly just skin deep though, ike is only irritated because jerseykyle is mad overprotective, hard core and did not gentle parent him as an older brother at like, i shit you not fourteen, like i am so sorry but jerseykyle raised ike basically, and inspite of actin like a heartless monster...loves ike very, very much ( even if he can't say it ) and ike also loves kyle very much. jerseykyle is pretty much the only other person besides firkle, tricia, etc. ( i'll get into that in a diff ask ) that truly gave a shit about him and put weight behind his actions.

so jerseykyle is like ike's older brother/dad, rags on him about doing his homework and being an edgelord

( ike has been acting out a lot, one, because he's finally starting to come into his personality more, which, imo, my hc is that ike is p popular but mostly by accident sort of how stan was because he's pretty and very nice, ike is captain of the hockey team, his accent is cute, gets good grades ( he is slacking right now tho bc hes being edgy as hell ), is a lil skater boy gamer boy, IS V INTO TRUE CRIME, JOURNALISM AND ACTIVISM, creating positive change, exposing injustice, enjoys punk rock music, thinks emo boy stuff is neato,

IKE IS THEEEE DAWN SPAWN OF EVER AND I MEAN THAT, he is a raven of crimson dawn FAN BOY, he is obsessed; i mean that...and despite wanting to make waves in that way, like, he really is kind of an antisocial DORK but lots of girls like him, he gets invited to parties, firkle gets invited by proxy even though people think they are a crazy demonic satan worshiping freak of nature...but ike's super bestie, ofc...their relationship is also interesting...BUT YEAH! IKE! <333 )

also per rm canon, jers does miss ikes birthday every year bc going to south park triggers the fuck out of him which he feels very, very badly about, rags on him but is very pro ike doing what he wants to with reason of not acting like a goddamn FOOL and doing his laundry, his emo dirt bag phase is making kyle's eye twitch ooooof, him bleaching his hair and sticking a safety pin through his lip the second ravenstan walks through their front door while ravesey are secretly broken up and jk is extra mad at him; ITS A HOT MESS EXPRESS, Y'ALL!!!!

if you made it this far...i have to put the answer to the FIRST part of your question with all that dialogue in another ask so feel free to re-ask me that, but to reference it a little...ike is so team ravesey like it is actually painful, that is his ROMAN EMPIRE. firkle actually really does not like kyle bc they think he is lame as hell, help, and is anti-ravesey bc they think romance is a distraction,

( okay, spoiler, but firkle is in love with ike, ike does not know this, ike is super fkn oblivious and is actually very bi, so it's not like he's just not aware he is not straight, he just....actually has no idea, rip, he also has a crush on a girl in his class, it DOES make firkle want to actually dome themself to hear about it 25/8, stupid Feelings, smh, firkle b hating jersey and is lowkey a little jersey coded ) anyways they think kyle dating raven of crimson dawn is going to interfere with the band, their music, their sound and is a hater. like boooo! come on, FIRK! :/

BUT IKE IS A ROMANTIC!!! IKE IS THE JR. RAVESEY CAPTAIN!!!!

tldr; kyle and ike have a complicated relationship but love each other very much and ike does eventually learn about ravesey secret dating bc they are the brothers of ever and cannot hide shit from each other BUT I GOTTA PUT IT IN ANOTHER ASK, I AM SO SORRY, BABY, YOU GOTTA ASK ME AGAIN ABOUT THAT! but i hope this thrills you?

-uncle nina, ceo of insane hs isaac moisha broflovski lore

[simpingland]

Into the Dragonpit. // Ser Harwin Strong x Targaryen!oc

Part 2 of The Queen's horse with no name. But you can read this first too.

Harwin and Ela reunite and go on a mission. Ser Breakbones may be tough but when dragons appear, his princess will be there to save him.

Plus: Harwin holds a baby in this... and I realised way too late that Elaena and Helaena are sisters...I tried to be original, soz.

The Tournament can be part 3????

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Ser Harwin arrived at the Red Keep along with his father, he'd been called a few days back and the King welcomed the rest of the family too, an interesting week was ahead with the big chances of a new born in the castle and the possible feasts organaiced in honor of that. He smiled when he identified Laps, resting in the yard, eating. Her owner was nowhere near. Harwin had yet to tell Lord Lyonel about his feeling for the princess. It was a serious proposal and he didn't want it to be rejected nor accepted without a good thought or meditation. Of course, he had thought about it ever since the hunt. He even dreamed about it, but feelings have a weird way to work. As the time passed, the lord had problems to remember Elaena's face. He was eager to see her. But he understood his position, the low chances he had, so he would be happy enough if all he had permission for was to protect her.

As if the Seven heard his secret wishes, the doors were opened and not only appeared the King himself to welcome them. Elaena walked by his side. As pretty as he remembered her, she had a conformable dress on, nothing like the beautiful gowns she wore on the camp, and also different from her riding suit. She smiled at Ser Lyonel, buy when she looked at him, she smiled differently, wider, sweeter. Greetings done, the parents entered the castle but Harwin was left univited to the council.

"I hope you don't have plans for today, Ser Harwin" smirked Elaena.

"I haven't got the time to arrange anything, my princess" he followed the Princess, who started her mission at the moment.

"Good, cuz were are going to see the little loves of my life" she softly dragged him by his arm. "The dragons".

Harwin Breakbones hid the panic on his eyes as well as he could, but something in the smirk on Ela told him that she was kind of enjoying it. She had explained the main goal of this. No dragon riding would be done, but molesting dragons' sleeps may be even more dangerous.

"My egg was picked by my father, he had so much trouble...you see, the shells usually reflect the color of the dragon inside" she explained.

"But Nyrax is black" he pointed.

"Exactly" she smiled. "My father thought that there would be no egg for me, and every true Targaryen must sleep on the crib with one. The hatching is another story. But when his men told him to give up the searching, Dreamfyre appeared. She is now a dragon without a rider, buy she was once rode by princess Rhaena, the "Queen of the West". Father said that she woke and lighted up the pit, letting him see the egg she just laid. No many times are the dragons the ones willing to let you warm their eggs for them".

"She knew you to were destined to fly together" Harwin felt soft for the princess little story. "You, Targaryens...you are all out of this world, I swear"

"Dragon's are not so terrifying, one just need to reach with confidence".

"Well, I like to stay closer to the ground, my princess". He stopped when they reached the gates. Elaena asked the servants and keepers to open it, and Harwin took a torch already lighten.

"What are you doing?" She asked when she saw him take it.

"I'm going with you, my princess".

She didn't stopped him, she loved his company and how willing he was to face the dragons, maybe he did it to look mainly, maybe because he was bored as hell, or maybe, just maybe, he was worried about her. The last one was the one she wished for. Poor Harwin, everyone was aware of the fact that she was the one protecting him inside there. It was incredibly dark, the steps were carefully walked, Harwin moved the torch following Elaena's directions. It smelled like shit, no one could deny it, but the animals skulls and enormous dragons were much more impressive. They didn't had to travel long before finding a pair.

"There's two, look!"

A silver one and a blue one. Which one would hatch? No one could know. But Elaena remembered Alicent and she packed the silver. She was taking it in her hands when Syrax woke up. It was Rhaenyra's dragon, so that complicated things. Syrax looked at the thieves and expressed her anger through a roar that almost made the torch's fire light off. Harwin was ready to run, buy never without the princess.

"I think you should leave it where it was, princess"

"No, she will understand". Elaena putted her hand slowly in front of the dragon. "Kostilus, syrax, ivestragī īlva mandia share zȳhon crib rūsīr aōha drōmon. īlon jāhor daor gaomagon ziry mirre ōdrikagon (Please, Syrax,let our sister share her crib with your egg. We will not do it any harm)."

The dragon hesitated, she roared again and Harwin truly feared for their lifes. Elaena did too but she holded the egg in one hand and pushed Ser Harwin aside. Syrax spitted a ball of fire in the man's direction, if it wasn't for the princess, he would had been caught. She protected herself by crouching down. When Syrax stopped, the dragon went back to sleep, as if nothing happened. When they opened their eyes, Harwin saw Elaena looking at him. She put her hands one the sides of his face.

"Are you okay, Ser Harwin?" She was trully worried.

"I am, my princess. Lets get out of here, please" he stood up with her help. One of the stones on the floor made a cut on Harwin's leg. She noticed the little limp so she putted his big arm over her shoulders, hurrying to get out. Once in the daylight again, she sat him down on a big rock.

"I'm so sorry, my Lord. I shouldn't had drag you. Does it hurt?" Regretted the girl, kneeling before him.

"Do not worry about it, Princess Elaena...this is nothing. A few cleans and all done...I should have stopped you on the first place"

"Well, you wouldn't be able to stopped me neither way...can I see the wound?"

By the time Harwin put his boot out to show his hurted knee, a maester appeared with the proper aid. It was a small but deep cut and the cares where more painful than what Harwin expected. He groaned, Elaena stopped looking and put herself beside him, holding his face, trying his best to reassure him, he did in fact calmed down. The princess felt guilt building on her entire chest. When the maester was done, he stood up and smiled at her.

"I swear to the Seven, you don't know how terribly sorry I am..." ser Harwin moved his head, not wanting to hear more apologise.

"There's nothing to feel sorry about, my princess. I'll survive" assured the lord.

The walk back to the Red Keep was a much silent one, Elaena couldn't be as cheerful after the scare they just had, but Harwin did try to keep it fun. It was now his turn to tell his own stories. He remembered all the fail adventures he had as a child.

"I once stole the sword of a boy, i just had my 8th name day. And this boy...he was a Tully. He was so tall, older but not wiser... he kept on mocking Harrenhal. He said it was the ugliest place on Westeros. "Shited instead of builded by the gods" he said".

" Oh, I think I know how this men is...second heir of Riverrun?" Asked Ela, invested in the tale.

"Yes, that one...he only spoke fairly about his sword...it wasn't even pretty, but it was useful, able to blind a men only with a quick move...I stole it. And I was determinated to melt it. But I decided to enjoy it before doing it. I was planning on let him know I found it, let him see the sword but throw it in the fire right before he could take it"

"That's harsh for a little kid..."

"I know, and I knew it too back then. But my mother stopped me. She saw me playing with it. And she could easily tell that it wasnt mine".

"She convinced you not to melt it?"

"No, but yes...she tricked me. I confessed my idea, she had that power over me. She just stared and I spilled everything. And she then told me to go ahead" Harwin saw the princess smile, clearly not believing it. "She said that it was a good revenge, but a lesson could be learn. "People put such a soul in objects, they glorify them instead of it's builders. If you put such an efford on a single piece of metal, the boy would still think that what we have or we don't have makes ourselfs valuable. But its not really about swords and castles, son, is about the person who owns it. So, if you want to make that boy cry, melt the sword, he will get another one soon enough, but your cruelty will be remembered. If you give it back to him, maybe you'll have a chance to impress him, to make him respect you"

"And you gave it back?"

"Of course, I asked if he would let me use it for a bit, and his father forced the boy to let me. I was a much better swordsman than him, a much dedicated one. So he kept the rest of his stay quiet. Harrenhal might have been ugly, but offending the future lord couldn't be beneficial. I hope it doesn't makes me sound pretentious, my princess".

"Speaking the truth doesn't make you pretentious, Ser Harwin. Its well known you have a reputation...my father calls you "the strongest men in the Seven Kingdoms ", although I hope it doesn't go to your head too much" she joked.

"My mother made sure of that already, my princess".

Ser Harwin also lost her mother long ago, but she didn't feel close enough to him to ask him about her mother. She wasn't trying to make him suffer so she may as well stop to give him such a harsh time in a single morning. They separated ways when Rhaenyra asked to inform her of something. She kissed him on the cheek, apologising one more time and Harwin got stock right there, feeling the lips on his cheek until she no longer was on sight. He walked to his father's chamber. He found him there, Larys too.

"Father, I must speak with you"

"Why are you covered in ashes, Harwin?" Asked Larys.

He didn't even notice, of course he had ashes, he had spend the morning on the Dragonspit, he had been thrown against the floor, but he had forgotten.

"I went with Princess Elaena to search for an egg...for her new sister...Father, we have to talk..."

"Indeed, we need. Son, the King just offered me something, and I hope it doesn't upset you" Ser Lyonel then handed him something, his son took it, it was the Hand of King's pin. "We'll be moving to the Red Keep, at least Larys and I"

As the future heir of Harrenhal, Ser Harwin was conflicted. It wasn't only about leaving his dear Harrenhal, it was more about losing his father's presence in the castle. He loved his father, always the wisest men in the room, he felt disorientated when he wasn't there, and Harwin still felt insecure about ruling alone, but leaving Harrenhal for such a long time wasn't a good option neither. But his father interrupted his thoughts, he hurry him for the dinner they were about to have with the royal family. A special one in honor of the new Hand.

Elaena bathed before his father could see her. If it wasn't for Rhaenyra pointing it out, she might have never seen the mess she made of herself. They had a quick argument about Syrax' actitude when they prepared the egg. She wanted to surprise Alicent. She learned about the new Hand of the King also by her sister.

"So...Ser Harwin is staying?" asked, and also wished, Ela.

"Well, I think one of them is staying in King's Landing. I hope it's the one you long for..." teased Nyra.

"Oh, shut up, I was just asking" she was blushing as well. When she ended the bath she put on the best dress for the occasion. Something a bit more special than casual, but she wanted to keep it simple. Gods...she felt stupid the moment she asked that to her maidens... But to have Harwin around would certainly be great. She felt treated as an equal, never mocked, with a true friend around. And she found odd the sweetness of such a manly man. She remembered him every time she rode Laps, and she wished for a parter who wasn't a personal guard for once. Not even Rhaenyra wanted to ride with her, not on a horse. He was also the most attractive men she had encountered, but she won't say that because she just expended too much time with older and boring men. But with Harwin, talks were easy, fluids and interestings.

Music sounded on the dinning room, the King already seated, Rhaenyra on his side, Alicent on the other, and the family Strong entered the room. They were about to eat when they realiced that the oldest princess was missing. Viserys was growing impatient and Rhaenyra, who didn't want to ruing the surprise, didn't come up with an argument to defend her and she didn't wanted too, she was hungry and the chicken was getting cold. Finally, the doors opened and they rised from the table to see Elaena. She looked beautiful and Harwin felt his heart beating fast, she carried a grin so big it barely fitted on her face.

"My apologise, my Lords" she talked to Ser Lyonel, and eyed his two sons before talking to Viserys, "but father, I have a surprise for the Queen".

Poor Alicent just had her second baby, and she looked tired but she thought that welcoming the new Hand would be seen as a nice gesture by the daughter of the last Hand. But she was upset, she was angry at Rhaenyra, and she could not talk about it. The baby also tired her. So when the surprise was announced, she was more confused than excited. The servants brought a hot pot, they opened to show the egg. Viserys smiled at the loving gesture her oldest made for her youngest.

"Look, Alicent, an egg for our little girl" said the King.

"We picked it up grey, in honor of your house color, Alicent" spoke the princess. The Queen then smiled, a Targaryen that thought of her as the mother of one, a true part of the family.

"Thank you, princess. Thank you too Rhaenyra...it's a lovely gesture" said Alicent.

"I wasn't involved, I'm afraid" admited Rhaenyra. She realized late, when Elaena's face dropped.

"Who picked up the egg with you then, Elaena?" Visarys became serious. The room when silent.

"It was me, Your Grace" confessed Harwin, looking at the King. "It was no bother".

"It's not about being bothering anyone, dear boy" he was still looking at his daughter. "It's about putting lives at risk. Elaena, did you ask for Harwin to enter the Dragonpit?".

Harwin wanted to speak but his father stopped him with a look, the King didn't want to hear him.

"Well,no...but I did not stopped him..." and he got hurt, that was on the tip of her tongue, but that could only make things worst.

"The maester was called during the meeting. Was it both of you he was aiding?" This time he did look at Harwin.

"It was just a cut, my King" he spoke.

"And the called the maester himself...Eleana, who in the Seven Kingdoms told you to drag him there? I can trust you with the dragons but they are dangerous creatures. Ser Harwin could be hurted or killed just by giving a wrong step. Did you think of that?".

"I know, father, and I do regret. I did apologise to him immediately. Lord Lyonel, I ask for your pardon too" she was stressed.

"You have it, princess. My king, this will not happen again. My son can promise you that" anwered the man, eyeing his oldest son.

They sitted and eated when the King started to eat. Poor Ela sat across from Harwin and she was to embarrassed to look at him. Before his father could talk, the boy spoke firmly.

"Your grace, the princess Elaena has shown me what truly makes Targaryens the powerful house it is...it's not only about the dragons...it's about your unique bond to them. Your daughter had a courage unlike most men have. And, if the now princess is willing to face a legendary dragon to honor a baby sister...one can only wonder what the future queen is willing to do to protect her people.

They went silent again, all staring at Harwin, the princess dared to rise her eyes at him, with a red face and a shy smile. She felt emotional for his hope in her and not many praised her for her actual achievements. The usual praises were dedicated to her dresses, sewings and looks. Viserys was moved too, a genuine show of loyalty to the future queen, who already had enemies around.

"I'm glad someone finally sees what I saw the day I named her my heir...a men your kind are the best to keep close while on the throne. You were raised by a great men and one can tell" the King toasted for the Strong and the dinner gain the celebrating vibe it deserved. Every once in a while, the princess and lord exchanged looks and neither Rhaenyra or Alicent missed one.

"I was thanking, Ser Lyonel, that a tournament would be a great way of celebrating the new princess" proposed Viserys.

"Well, my king, I see no harm in it. It's been long since you celebrated one. And it's cheaper than a hunt, and equally fun" agreed the hand. "So, is the princess as beautiful as the other princesses, your grace?"

"You haven't seen her? Maybe she would enjoy some music...I'll have her brought here" proposed Alicent, wishing to see her new baby once again. Aegon would be sleeping by now, no need to wake him.

One of the queen's ladies brought her in her arms. She was very small and the three blondes melted when she entered. She was just like them and something about her transmited calm and sweetness. She went from arms to arms. The eating was done but they keep on chatting. When Elaena was holding her, she saw Harwin sitting on her side, looking at the two sisters.

"There's something about this one that makes me love her so much..."she confessed in a whisper. "When Aegon was born, everyone was holding a breath, as if my biggest thread just gained a body. And that body in question was just a wet and crying blonde bundle. But this one...this one is special". The princess pushed his sister into Harwin's arm. He took it carefully. "I haven't told you, but your mother must have been an incredible woman...so smart".

"She was, my princess. Unfortunate it was Larys the one who inherited that part". He joked.

"Don't say that, Harwin". Did she just called him by his name? No "ser" around it? She did, but it was late to back out now. "You are smart...but in the best way, not in a cunning one... you are the loveliest man I've ever met. And the most valiant too, even when it becomes more of a dangerous factor" she was blushing, no doubt about it.

"I think you were too impressed with my controll of horses, my princess" he said, making the princess laugh.

The King was quite drunk, and he interrupted the conversation when he asked Alicent for the baby's name way too laudly.

"I haven't decided yet, husband. I will let you choose" Alice was just not having it.

"What about Elaena?" He said.

"You already have a daughter named Elaena" pointed the Hand. The princess was so puzzle she just stared at his father. Her sister also had too many cups of wine, she didn't noticed until she started to talk.

"Maybeee...she can be name after her older sister who brought her that beautiful egg...but to make it stand apart could be an "H" after the man who risked his life for the cause...". Yeah, she was drunk and Alicent too tired.

"Helaena...I like it..." decided the King. Everyone cheered at the name except the mother, the princess and Harwin, who looked at the princess hidding a grin.

She looked at him. "I wish I could say that tomorrow she'll have a different name but I'm pretty sure that we are going to be stuck with the same name for the rest of out lifes"

"At least I do feel flattered, not going to lie"

"You know, Ser Harwin?" She stared at him. He looked adorable with the baby in his arms, even more attractive than before, sweeter and soft. "Everything would be easier if you stayed in King's Landing...".

He smiled at her. If his queen requested it, he will do it, not second thoughts. "Of course I will, Elaena".

[darkfictionjude]

"some of you would like the chance to make the mc worse"

AMEN TO THAT

im giggling over the fact the mc could go on a killing spree on the people who wronged her (like those 'bullies' at school)

and shes kind of apathetic to the whole ordeal, atleast my mc how i made her and the choices around death or whatever so she should be pretty smart at covering it and getting away with it

also since she is how she is shouldn't it be easy for her to lie or be charming to people since she doesn't feel guilty? in alot of serial killer cases (like ted bundy, YUCK) many people described him to be charming and stuff but it would be hard for the mc hence the past and how people view her

i also love the fact none of the mains are good people (aside from sally hes a sweatheart), that they all have problems of their own makes it more real

i love me sum mc whos cruel, hates everyone, but that one or three people

in all my IF's my mc is cold, detached, a bit sociopathic and scary (ps: scarily attractive too) also a sweet tooth for being a menace

irl murder is illegal so im just gonna do it online, whats the point of playing a game and making ur mc mundane or boring (nothing against people who make their mc weet, shy or whatever but its like idk?? isnt it the point of playing a fantasy game to escape from reality)

also do we get more choices in the future for unhealthy coping mechanisms?

itd also be cool if the mc found a feral animal in the forest and it intrigued them and theyd be like oh ur cool im gonna keep you as a pet 😂

i js realized ive been calling the mc her a lot of times instead of saying like them, my mc is a girl thats why 😭

soz for the kong rant

Hahaha I do laugh evilly every time I make mc have a choice that is kind of psychopathic. Maybe one day they’ll caress their lover with blood on their hands? Who knows what dark places my brain will go to

And thank you for liking my fucked up Scooby gang I felt it’s only fair that if mc is unbalanced then the ROs should be too they just manifest it differently.

As for unhealthy coping mechanisms, they can become worse. Like mc can become a chain smoker etc., as in for different worse coping mechanisms? That will be a thing in season 2, like it can get really bad.

About the pets I’ve said before mc would let that pet die!!! They are only now just learning to take care of themself they can’t handle a pet!! Also there are no feral pets in the town they all got eaten :)

And that’s fine. Many nonnies refer to mc by the pronouns they use in game and I know it’s because they’re talking about their own mc so I don’t mind it 😙 by the way I do like reader rants so feel free

[boldlygreatsuit]

It’s been forever since I’ve drawn these two, I’m not sure if I’m happy with how I drew them, maybe I’m just a little rusty lol. I may have gotten their characterization wrong soz

I know the little comic at the top is kinda out of character but I love the idea of them being silly. Also to give a bit of context the beast killed somebody and got covered in gore so when he’s trying to clean up Enoch decides it’s the perfect opportunity to be a flirt and the beast is tired of his nonsense lol

(Just thought I’d explain this, the reason the beast is kinda purple is to keep his and Enoch colour separate. It also makes his darkness feel kinda unnatural or magic-y since he wraps himself in shadow so even in daylight you can’t actually ‘see’ what he looks like. While Enoch’s black feels more natural and fits in with his surroundings better due to his cat skin looking very unassuming and normal and his fur actually just black)

@doyouknowhowtowaltz @theanoninyouraskblog

[confuseddimensiontraveler]

As soon as I heard Crowleys playlist had Take Me To Church on it i lost my shit, and now that the new season is out (and I’ve had the song on loop for an hour) I finally wrote my analysis of him and this song! also all of this is just my interpretation, please don’t hurt me I’m young and feeble.

Major Good Omens 2 spoilers ahead!! You’ve been warned

Take Me To Church + Crowley Analysis (does not include all the lyrics soz)

My lover's got humor

She's the giggle at a funeral

Knows everybody's disapproval

I should've worshiped her sooner

Aziraphale is not very good at social cues or understanding human matters, and knows what happens when he disobeys heaven and how they feel about him, but he still does what he thinks is best; both of which are things Crowley likes about him. Crowley didn’t even fully realize he loved Aziraphale until Nina and Maggie (my hero’s) had to shove it in his face.

If the Heavens ever did speak

She's the last true mouthpiece

Aziraphale is one of the last few angels who does things that can really be considered good/godly, like helping humans and just being generally nice.

Every Sunday's getting more bleak

A fresh poison each week

Each time Crowley is forced to interact with heaven it just gets worse and worse, like being kicked out and then heaven trying to end the world, until they take Aziraphale away from him.

"We were born sick", you heard them say it

My church offers no absolutes

Everyone keeps telling them it’s unnatural for an Angel and a demon to be friends + the church not offering absolutes as in all the angels talking about the great plan though no one really knows what it is.

The only Heaven I'll be sent to

Is when I'm alone with you

Crowleys never going to make it back to heaven, and the closest he’s going to get is his relationship with aziraphale. Plus the only times he’s actually seen happy are with Aziraphale.

I was born sick, but I love it

Command me to be well

A-, Amen, Amen, Amen

He doesn’t want to go back to heaven either, he likes being a demon, he just wants them to be able to be them. He wants to want to do whatever Aziraphale wants, but he doesn’t, he has his own interests too.

Take me to church

I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies

Crowley follows Aziraphale basically everywhere, including literally a church despite what it does to him, and in his mind they shared a similar devotion because they’re “partners”. Like when Aziraphale trusted him to shoot him for a magic trick. So when Aziraphale leaves, it makes him feel like the whole thing was a lie. He even waits for him to come back, but he doesn’t, and it leaves him feeling abandoned.

I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife

Offer me that deathless death

Good God, let me give you my life

After the kiss, Aziraphale only says “I forgive you.” like it was a bad thing. Then he left, and Crowley can’t die, but that almost makes being alone worse. He spends so long just being there to protect him, and then he’s gone, and he no longer has someone to spend eternity with.

If I'm a pagan of the good times

My lover's the sunlight

The definition of pagan is “a person holding religious beliefs other than those of the main or recognized religions,” so in Crowleys case, he’s a pagan of the good times because supposedly god wants to destroy the earth, which means by choosing to try to stop it, he’s going against Christianity. Aziraphale is just the sunlight to his darkness (I love them so bad).

To keep the Goddess on my side

She demands a sacrifice

Crowley makes many sacrifices over the course of the 1st season to prevent the end of the season, and eventually he’s forced to give up Aziraphale to heaven after they remove Gabriel because he vetoes Armageddon.

Drain the whole sea

Get something shiny

The first time they really talk is when God floods earth, and it’s also when some of the initial seeds of rebellion are implanted in Crowley specifically. Aziraphale has already given away the sword, but it’s the first example Crowley cares for people (very not-demon-like), which is what leads to their friendship/seeing each other as kindred spirits.

Something meaty for the main course

That's a fine looking high horse

What you got in the stable?

This could either be about heaven in its entirety or Aziraphale, with both acting like Crowleys below him when really they’re much more similar than that, and that all the angels isn’t perfect either.

We've a lot of starving faithful

That looks tasty

That looks plenty

This is hungry work

The demons are plenty in numbers, and greed is literally one of the seven deadly sins. Even being less “demon” than most of them, Crowley isn’t perfect. He wants a lot. Plus some of the things he does take a certain… demon-ness other people don’t have, but they get results.

No masters or kings when the ritual begins

There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin

When it’s just them working together, there’s always the looming presence of heaven and hell, but that’s not what they’re representing, respectively. Each side commits atrocities in the name of war, but with their “gentle sin” being rebelling against their organizations, it separates them from that. They’re just an “us”, to Crowley.

In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene

Only then I am human

Only then I am clean

Oh, oh, Amen, Amen, Amen

On earth they’re usually brought together by chaos and tragedy—the first season's whole hook is armageddon. In the madness of it they both lose their sides, quite literally being seen as going native, and in Crowley's mind, that scrubs him of his demonic responsibility. In the show, demons are shown to be especially dirty, with their mud and maggots and frogs and flies and stuff.

Take me to church

I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies

I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife

Offer me that deathless death

Good God, let me give you my life

In the end, the whole thing can be interpreted as an allegory for being gay and the effects of religious trauma has on that, just like the song :D thanks for indulging me, and sorry if this didn’t make any sense, the wound is still fresh 😭

[ikoarts]

September 2022 Art

vvv dates + info under the cut vvv

1, 2, 3, 4 - 05/09/2022 : drawing Ru in various styles, somewhat x laika puppet style, cosgrove hall (esque) puppet style, ace attorney, then invader zim. I still have such a soft spot for the laika Ru, shes so cute... when will they make a film about her life...

5, 6 - 09/09/2022 : toni is a spectre ghost who taunts u. how spooky of her. also toni n ru but little shop hehe.. alhamdulillah toni will be eaten by a plant soon

7, 8, 9, 10 - 10/09/2022 : rip to queen liz. happy for u or soz that happened idc. caspian is my resident anglophobe (im litrally english). also moar rurus, ofc, i never stop drawing her, my autistic muse...

11, 12, 13 - 13/09/2022 : i held a OC tournament thing around this time which was good fun, so i did a couple doodles for that, Phoebe was sweeping the competition which was funny like yall got beaten by a fucking baby,, also wren being wren, he beat noah in the vote. also i drew a lemmy

14 - 15/09/2022 : my deltarune MTT AU!!!! one of my aus i get funny about coz i love it a lot and ive had it for ages like since the ch3 teasers dropped but theres way more popular and newer versions of the same concept....... forever stuck between not wanting to be a big artist at all but at the same time getting stuck on my ideas being overshadowed by similar ones by more popular artists.......... (no hate to them im just mental)

ANYWAY he rocks, i liked the idea of him goin crazy sicko mode and being the antagonist, or, secondary to a greater power, hehe.... only coz hes in a form way more affirming in the dark world, so REFUSES to give it up, u will pry his trans joy from his cold dead ghost hands

15 - 16/09/2022 : horse. she is horse

16 - 23/09/2022 : was thinkin of my koopa ocs again so did a super quick doodle of Vermillia (lemmy & iggy's mam x)

17, 18 - 30/09/2022 : first one i cant believe i never uploaded since its a polished digital piece?? anyway i saw a cool shirt and wanted to draw Ru in it, also a doodle of Alice bc i was redesigning her, way happier with this hairstyle on her

[junjiie]

silly little game ignore if you want — assign each of your moots and idol and a song!

OMG AN IDOL AS WELL?!? we're ab to have sm fun.. Thank U 4 This. also ermmm to moots i hvnt interacted w much this is j based on ur silly vibes Soz.....

@wave2love ( karma ). you dont even know how long ive been waiting to scream this for real. for an idol i'd say karma is either mingi from ateez or jisung from stray kids and for a song.. maybe 3005 by childish gambino?? bc ily bsf Wjnk 😉

@mins-fins ( isa ). ISA ISA ISAAA for an idol its hueningkai from txt FS. perhaps jeongin (skz) too though.. and for a song imo isa is really trix by slater!!! but also mayb take me home by pinkpantheress too!? isa isa isaaa ☹️

@so2uv ( sol ). SOL . sticking w my hongjoong (ateez) = sol agenda here IT MAKES SENSE TO ME!!!! but again the jaehyun (nct) is jumping out a little too. Here damn 😒 ANW FORA SONG im thinking massa by tyler, the creator or song about me by tv girl.. they j fit u in my head

@hyeoniez ( flori ). flori!!!!!! i think mayb jeonghan from svt for an idol?!!? Hmm idk. ur like a little bit silly and evil occasionally and that is so good for u bsf. Real. anw for a song its semantics by chloé silva 0 questions asked. ITS SO U IMO WHATTT

@jinkiseason ( elif ). oh erm Heyy.. for an idol sehun from exo (partly bc of the pfp and partly bc his ig feed (and him in general!?) is so unhinged and idgaf and crazy and silly and those r the vibes i get from them) and for a song wolf by exo (see unhinged idgaf crazy fun argument above). GUERAE WOLF NAEGA WOLF AWOOOO 🗣️

@samudan ( zai ). Hei . Ermm . purely vibes watch me do this in 0.2 seconds.. for an idol xiaojun (wayv/nct) and for song nemonade by p1harmony!!! i got some lemons 4 u 부숴 네 기준 기준....

@cinnajun ( cinna ). lowk scared asl but Hii 😓 UMMM for an idol let me blindfold myself and spin a wheel.. ten (wayv/nct)??!??? U SEEM RLY COOL IDK.. and for a song ermm sugar rush ride by txt (also a massive stab in the dark. Yasss! 👍)

OK DONE THATS IT TBIS WAS FUN THANKNU ABAIN!!!!