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#the angst
beansandshrooms · 19 hours
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"We'll both be unforgivable!"
"You always were the nicer of the two of us."
Why did I think that Jophiel's face being a solid color would make the whiteboard easier?! I should have known better!?
Anyway! @asleepyy 's Oopsie Omens au broke me. It's amazing! You should read it! How is it that I know the plot of the book and the show, and I'm *still* anxious to find out what happens next!?! It's an AU where everything is almost exactly the same minus one key difference!?!? I know what will happen next! But also, I don't.
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anthrotulip · 3 days
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Live footage of me whenever Rampart was on screen in 3.14:
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I'm aware he is probably going to useful (somehow) the Grand Tantiss Liberation Plan™ and this is a technically (pun intended) a kid show but it is past time for is timely demise
Also I swear to the force if he gets out of this all somehow, but Tech isn't alive my screams will Echo forever.
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novaneondream · 9 months
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This is Us 🌸
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dipplinduo · 3 months
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seaweedraindraws · 2 months
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I was saving this for my fanfic but I liked the idea so much I had to draw it!
Bonus:
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Here is a link to the fic this scene is from! (Only chapter 1 is up, so this scene has not yet happened)
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superbat-love · 5 months
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Batman said nope I’m not going to let you sacrifice yourself on my watch
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phoebepheebsphibs · 2 months
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A little birdie told me you wanted the fear spore asks again!! 1 of 3 coming at ya!
SHE LIVVVEESSS AND SHE COOKSSSSS
THE AAAANNNNGSTTTT
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Why in God's name did I make this so long oh GAWD I CRIED, i love their relationship so much... SOMEBODY TELL THESE KIDS THEY ARE REDEEMABLE
@gamerblade1 @boots-with-the-fur-club @daboyau @tmntaucompetition
(100% someone is going to bring up the fact that Dee still wants to overthrow the human race. i know i know lol... baby steps, baby steps, the kid is trying to get better)
Prev || Next || Overanalyzing Mikey's fears
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lunicaell · 8 months
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pov Lyney is catching feelings for you
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gaymafiaspider · 3 months
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I feel like this may have been done before but:
Alastor betraying the hotel
Husk going against his contract to save Angel/his friends
Husk getting redeemed
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lordperceval-16 · 8 months
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I Think I've Seen This Film Before
Pairing: Past Charles x Reader, Lando x Reader
Charles cannot believe you've turned up to the Gala with Lando. You cannot believe he thinks he has the right to be jealous.
Inspired by Exile - Taylor Swift and Bon Iver. Quite angsty, but Lando is a sweet angel.
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Charles could not take his eyes off you all night. Ever since he'd turned around and saw you walking in with Lando, his eyes had been glued to you, watching your every move.
He'd heard whispers that you were seeing someone new, unable to resist searching your name on social media. Of course, he'd never imagined you would move on to someone he considered a mate. And then he saw you walk in with Lando, and he felt a pang in his chest like he'd never felt before.
How could you have moved on so soon? And with him of all people? It felt like not even five minutes had passed since it had been holding you close and making you smile. Now it was Lando, and you were gazing up at him adoringly, like he'd hung the moon and the stars in your sky. You used to look at him like that not so long ago. He watched as Lando leaned in to whisper something in your ear, and he could hear your laugh ring out like a bell from across the room.
He turned away then, not wanting to see anymore of the two of you being so disgustingly in love. He downed his drink and shook his head roughly, reminding himself that he had no right to feel jealous. You'd made that abundantly clear when you'd walked out without explanation.
He ordered another drink and downs that as well. Try as he might he can't help himself from looking back at you again. He stared for what felt like an eternity, debating all the ways he could win you back and then beating himself up for still loving you despite everything. You looked up then and met his gaze, and his breath lodged in his throat.
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You'd felt his weighty stare on you ever since you'd walked in with Lando. You knew he'd be there of course, why wouldn't be be at the gala before his home race? You had optimistically hoped that he would stay away from you and ignore you for the night, but clearly you had no such luck.
You bristled under his gaze, your shoulders tensing. What right did he have to be jealous anyway? He'd been distancing himself for months before you'd left him, and now just because you'd moved on with someone else, he suddenly had an interest in you? It was completely unfair. You'd given him plenty of chances to fix things, and he hadn't bothered, so he had no right to stand there and glare daggers at you and Lando. You were not together anymore, and he had no right to be offended at the fact that you had moved on.
"Everything alright?" Lando asked, his arm coming around your waist protectively, "cause you looked like you sucked on a lemon."
"It's fine," you sighed, not wanting him to see you were upset by your ex, "it's just.."
"Charles?" He guessed, huffing out a laugh as he saw your eyes widen, "yeah, if he glares any harder I might burst into flames. Don't worry sweetheart, he's just jealous because he knows he's not nearly as funny or as handsome as me."
You threw your head back and laughed loudly, shaking your head at Lando and his ridiculous humour. You smiled up at him fondly, grateful that no matter how sour your mood was he always found a way to cheer you up.
For the rest of the evening, you did your level best to ignore Charles and his stares, and for the most part, you succeeded. You had such a wonderful time with Lando, mingling with the other drivers and their girlfriends and drinking top shelf champagne. And yet, there was always that nagging prickle at the back of your neck reminding you that no matter how much you ignored him, he was still watching. What right did he have to make you feel this way? He'd had his chance, and he blew it. You'd loved him more than anything in the world, but he'd taken it for granted. You wished your heart didn't still pang with longing as your thoughts briefly drifted to the happy times you'd had together.
"I'll be back in a minute. I just need some air ," you told Lando, standing up and grabbing your clutch bag. Before you could turn around, Lando grabbed your wrist softly and stood to follow you. "It's alright, I promise. You stay here with Oscar and Danny. I'll only be five minutes, i just need a breath of fresh air."
"Are you sure?" He asked worriedly, reluctantly letting you go once you insisted. But before you could leave, he was taking off his suit jacket and draping it over your shoulders. "At least take this so you don't get cold."
"Thank you," you smiled, leaning down to peck his cheek before heading for the side door of the ballroom and out into the warm evening air. You leaned your forearms on the balcony and looked out over the city, taking deep breaths of the fresh air as you took in the gorgeous view.
You heard footsteps coming out onto the balcony behind you, and you didn't need to turn around to know who had joined you.
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"I have to say I'm surprised to see you here," he said as he leaned on the balcony beside you. You scoffed and shook your head, staring straight ahead instead of turning to look at him. You knew if you did there was always that slim chance that he'd break down your walls again.
"You can be surprised all you want," you replied sharply, "but I'm not your problem anymore, so you have no right to be annoyed that I'm here with Lando."
"Ah, c'mon," he huffed, "it's been like five minutes since we broke up, and now you're here with one of my mates? I'm allowed to feel upset about that, especially when you didn't even give me a chance to fix things before you up and left."
"What's that supposed to mean?" You snapped, finally turning to face him, your eyes blazing, "I gave you so many chances Charles."
"Are you joking?" He scoffed bitterly, "I came home to find you in the hall with your bags packed with absolutely no warning. How was I supposed to fix things when you left without warning?"
"I gave you so many signs, Charles," you said sourly, "so many goodamn signs. It's not my fault you were never paying enough attention to them to realise something was wrong."
"So many signs?" He laughs, "maybe in your head anyway. I'm not a mind reader, how was I supposed to know something was wrong when you didn't even tell me about it. You should have just talked to me about these things."
"You just didn't see them because you didn't want to see that we were falling apart," you sighed in defeat, "all the signs were there for months and you just didn't want to acknowledge them. We just weren't working."
"Then give me another chance," he begged, but it was half hearted, "let me show you that I can do better, be better."
"I've seen this film before Charles," you sighed sadly, "and I didn't like the ending. We're beyond the point of going back and making the same mistakes all over again. And anyway, I'm happy with Lando so I don't even know why we're standing here having thud argument in the first place."
He stayed silent for a moment, his eyes tracing your face for any signs of hesitancy. It was ironic really, that he was searching for signs now when he hadn't been able to see them when it mattered.
"You're right, I know," he admitted eventually, his whole body sagging with the weight of the admission, "its just been hard seeing you here with him. I feel like I've just been exiled from your life all of a sudden and its strange after all the time we spent together."
"It's been hard for me too you know," you admitted quietly, "I knew I'd see you here but I wasn't prepared for how sad it would make me, despite everything."
"For what it's worth, I hope Lando makes you happy," he said after a beat, "all I've ever wanted was for you to be happy."
"I want the same for you Charles," you assured him, a small lump forming in your throat as you squeezed his arm gently, "and I hope you find someone that gives you that happiness."
Without waiting for conversation to continue you made your way back into the ballroom. Your eyes fell on Lando doing some ridiculous dance with Danny and you couldn't help but smile, the weight on your chest lifting. The ending would be different this time, it would be different with Lando.
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flowerandblood · 6 months
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Pride | Promise | Price
[ modern! • Aemond x stepsister! • female ]
[ warnings: sex content, sexual tension, angst, smut, kind of incest but not really, brat taming, violence, swearing ]
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[ description: After their joint decision to be together, Aemond and his stepsister try to arrange everything to create as normal relationship as possible. The problem arises when Criston begins to suspect that his sweet little daughter has a boyfriend. The power of angst, ironic, protective, bitchy Aemond. Anon request. ]
Part 1 − Rage | Revenge | Relief Part 2 − Guilt | Greed | Grace Part 4 − Blame | Betray | Bliss
Series & Characters Moodboard
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
My other works: Masterlist
_____
He had no idea what had crossed his mind to ask her if she would become his girlfriend − it seemed to him to be the most embarrassing and desperate question one could ask the opposite sex, but yet in that moment, as she lay in his embrace, his nose pressed against her hair, their hands and legs entwined together, he thought that he didn't give a shit.
That he really wanted her to be his.
His little girl.
Her answer and her complete lack of hesitation surprised him as much as the question he asked her; he couldn't get out of his awe at how lightly she approached it, that even if she was afraid of the consequences she enjoyed being in a relationship with him, and what's more, just like him she wasn't going to stop.
He was unable to understand why certain things came naturally to them − he figured that the fact that she wasn't forcing anything on him, that she wasn't putting perpetual expectations on him made him finally open up to what he himself wanted, and by some miracle their needs began to coincide.
Above all, neither of them talked about their choice, simply recognising that they had already decided and there was no reason to explain anything further.
He watched with satisfaction as he drove her to her classes how she greeted her friends knowing that none of them would touch her again because she was fucking his.
His little sister.
At that thought a dangerous grimace appeared on his lips that terrified him as he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror; he drove off with a squeal of tyres, certain that she had turned over her shoulder to look at him.
What surprised him most was that he was focused on his lectures like never before − neither of them disturbed each other during their classes with messages with only a few exceptions when they were figuring out what they were going to do in the evening.
Her gentle, cheerful, warm character suited him.
She didn't run after him seeking his attention all the time.
She accepted when he needed to study in silence or just sleep off a day full of activities.
When they passed each other in the corridor, came across in the kitchen or the living room and there was no one around but them, he would draw her to him, hugging her waist and clinging to her lips, uniting with her in a warm, moist kiss − she would then throw her arms around his neck while the tips of their tongues teased and licked each other with a quiet click.
Usually that was enough to make him completely hard, and it was usually just then that they heard someone's footsteps, so they pulled away from each other, looking at one another with this type of gaze he had never shared with anyone before, filled with desire, heat and longing.
They fucked whenever they could, in his car, in his living room, in his kitchen, once in his bed and once in hers, waiting patiently for his mother and Criston to fall asleep; they would visit and throw themselves into each other's arms, exhausted from waiting all day to touch each other, experiencing hot, sticky, intense pleasure together.
Afterwards, they stroked their naked, sweaty bodies, kissed each other and involuntarily fell asleep, forced to part before dawn, before anyone realised either of them was not in their room.
On the one hand it was exhausting and drove him mad, on the other it made him want her more and more every day.
It made him miss her, even though she was in the next room.
They wrote to each other when they were at home almost all the time even when they were sitting at the dinner table together; they commented on what was going on, told each other stories, sent each other memes or decided what they were going to do in the evening.
Sometimes they would play games together or watch movies on his laptop and lock the door from his room so no one would accidentally see them lying down and embracing.
However, in his eyes, the turning point for him was the day he told her about Alys.
The subject was completely different at first − his stepsister was telling him about how she dealt with Criston's arguments with her mother, that she would leave the house for hours and have nothing to do with herself, hanging around the nearby park and reading books, not wanting to return home to a house filled with their perpetual resentments feeling that there was nowhere for her to go.
He never confided in anyone about what he had done.
"At first it was supposed to be a one-night stand. Just to do something against the will of my mother, with whom as a child I went to mass every Sunday and prayed nicely before going to bed like a little good boy." He snorted, shrugging his shoulders.
"But, I don't know, when I came back here I always felt that she was looking at me with those eyes begging for forgiveness, that she would fall to her knees in front of me if she could, but I don't want her apology. I just wish she wasn't a fucking hypocrite.
So I ran away, to Alys, and fucked her in every possible way you can imagine, the kind that I'm ashamed of now. I think I took it out on her in some ways." He muttered thoughtfully, running a trembling hand over his chin.
He was afraid to look at her.
He was afraid of what he would see in her gaze.
He shuddered when he felt her lay her head on his chest so that he could nestle his cheek against her hair, her hands embraced him instantly − he wrapped his arms around her, stroking her back with trembling fingers.
He knew she could feel how fast his heart was pounding.
"My dad believes I'm an angel too. He's convinced that I've probably never kissed a boy before. I know I'll be a disappointment to him, another one in his life, when he finds out." She mumbled, and he felt a squeeze in his throat at her words, his hand slipping into her hair, his lips kissing the top of her head.
"We don't live to fulfil our parents' expectations." He whispered and she lifted her sad, warm gaze to him, her fingers brushing his cheek before their lips joined in a slow, loud, sticky kiss.
He took her that night lying with her on her side, her thigh set high on his hip, her soft breasts pressed against his chest. He was rooting into her in a quiet, steady pace, teasing the spot inside her from which a sigh of bliss escaped her lips, their hands trailing over their naked bodies, stroking each other's shoulders, hair, necks, cheeks.
They kissed with their eyes closed, sucking and licking each other's lips, running their noses over the hot skin of each other's faces before their mouths connected anew with a wet click, his length stretching her throbbing, moist entrance with each of his deep thrusts.
He was horrified by what was happening to him then, how helpless and vulnerable he was, how much he needed her tenderness, acceptance and understanding, what relief he felt when she gave him more than he could ever hope for.
At last someone saw and wanted him as he really was.
That's why instead of being bored with her, their relationship went from being hilarious and ironic to something serious and surprisingly real.
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He licked his lower lip feeling his cock throbbing hard as he read her last message.
While she never sent him naked pictures of herself like Alys did, she drove him crazy with pics of herself when she was dressed so that he could almost see her panties, buttocks or bare breasts.
It was only his pride that made him not beg her to send them to him more often, and apart from that he didn't want to sit with a swollen erection all the time.
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He let out a loud breath, tightening his lips, feeling his cock get completely hard at the sight of her in the long, light-coloured sweatshirt and high woollen socks he loved to fuck her in, certain that she was now wearing no bra or panties.
Fuck.
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He looked at his screen, but no more answer appeared on it. He licked his lower lip and, with a dangerous grin, left his room quietly, walking down the corridor past their parents' bedroom.
He walked inside her room without warning, locking the door behind him, staring at her for a moment − his stepsister was lying on her bed with a book in her hand, one of her knees raised, looking up at him with those big, warm eyes of hers.
He reached for the belt buckle of his trousers, looking at her like an animal watching its prey; he could see in her gaze that she knew what was about to happen.
"Take off everything except those slutty socks." He ordered coolly; he saw her swallow loudly as she put the book aside and with trembling hands pulled her sweatshirt over her head, with neither bra nor panties underneath, placing her hands on either side of her head. He chuckled at the sight, undoing the button and zipper of his trousers.
"Fucking knew it."
He walked over to her and knelt in front of her on her bed, taking her thighs in his hands, spreading them wide to the sides. She made no resistance to him, looking up at him with misty gaze, her pink lips parted slightly in quickened breath, puffy and glistening in the light of her bedside lamp.
"This is what you wanted, isn't it? For your brother to come and teach you a lesson?" He asked dryly running his thumb over her hot, throbbing womanhood, sticky with her moisture, her whole body trembling − she nodded shyly at his words, as if she was ashamed.
"You're leaking, kid. Tsk-tsk." He shook his head disapprovingly, his hand with a sure, rough, short movement slapping her between her thighs − she flinched and squealed, but pressed her lips together immediately when she saw him furrow his brow.
"Quiet. Understood?" He asked coolly, and she nodded quickly.
"− I'm sorry −" She mumbled quietly. He sighed feeling that he wouldn't be able to hold out for too long, his fingers trailing around her puffy clit, not giving her what she needed.
"− good you're sorry − fucking brat − you've been looking at me all day with those big eyes of yours begging me to fuck you − yes or no? −" He growled and slapped her again, harder and louder, she stifled her moan and nodded her head quickly.
"− y-yes − please −" She babbled with difficulty, her breasts rising and falling in accelerated, raspy breaths, her hands clenched on her pillow on either side of her head, in her gaze the heat and pleading he loved, his heart pounding like mad, his fingers teasing her slit.
"− please, what? −" He hissed warningly and she swallowed loudly, already having obvious problems putting full sentences together, her thighs twitching before him.
"− please, big brother − I want you inside me −" She mewled writhing in front of him in impatience − he licked his lips looking at her in satisfaction and hummed under his breath, spreading her moisture over her folds.
"− good girl − come here − yeah, there you go −" He murmured, turning her onto her stomach and lifting her buttocks higher so that she hugged her cheek to the pillow, bucking her hips towards him, her entrance pink and throbbing, glistening from her juices.
He leaned over her and ran his tongue over her clit slipping his trousers lower, a quiet groan of delight came from his throat at how good she tasted − he knew she must have taken a bath before he came, her whole body smelling of feminine shower gel.
He saw her press her face against her pillow and stifled her loud moan with it, her hands clenched tightly on its material. He chuckled under his breath as he saw her state, squeezing himself several times with his hand in a quick motion, enjoying the view.
"− desperate? −" He sneered with amusement and she nodded, her whole body tensing as he guided the head of his cock against her slit − he pushed into her meeting resistance, her tight walls clamped down on him greedily, he could feel she was close to orgasm.
"− no − take it − all of it − that's right, there you go −" He exhaled with a sigh of relief, with a determined thrust of his hips forcing himself into her as deeply as he could, filling her whole, his hands clenched on her trembling hips.
He couldn't stop himself, he began to slam into her with quick, sure, sharp movements, his thighs slapping loudly against her buttocks − he could hear her quiet cries and sobs muffled by the fabric of the pillow she pressed her lips to.
"− be fucking quiet −" He growled low after a moment fucking her with all his strength, fast, brutal, loud − they were both panting involuntarily, they didn't stop even when they heard the door in the next room open, that someone had turned on the bathroom light.
He felt like they both sped up their pace even more at the thought that they might be caught, her hips responded greedily to his every thrust, her hot muscles clenched painfully hard against his cock wanting to keep him inside.
He clenched his eyes cursing in his mind, knowing he wouldn't last long, her muffled moans with each of his thrusts brought him closer to his orgasm.
"− baby − oh God −" He mumbled softly feeling the sudden fulfilment shake her body, she writhed and quivered beneath him like an animal, breathing loudly, her fleshy, hot wall sucking him inside.
He tilted his head back closing his eyes and just cum inside her, falling on top of her, pressing his lips to her sweaty neck trying to stifle his low groan, their bodies quivering and writhing beneath each other, unable to calm down.
"− shhh, little one − it's okay − shhh −" He hushed her in a soothing voice stroking her soft hair, kissing her tenderly on her temple, her cheek, her jaw − she turned her face towards him and their lips joined in a sticky, helpless, dirty kiss.
"− fuck −" He exhaled pressing his forehead against hers; they both closed their eyes intertwining their fingers together and lay in silence, their bodies rising and falling in heavy breathing.
They heard someone's footsteps and the sound of a light being turned off followed by a door opening and closing. They breathed quietly, his little sister hissing in discomfort as he slid out of her with a soft movement of his hips.
"I know, little one. Do you have tissues here to wipe yourself off? Bring you something to drink?" He asked in a whisper and she nodded, lying with her eyes closed completely without strength.
He covered her with a blanket, buttoned his trousers and ran downstairs to the kitchen to pour her some water; he took a glass from the cupboard above him and put it under the turned-off tap. He jumped back and doused himself, almost having a heart attack when he saw Criston right next to him.
He turned off the tap quickly − Criston scratched his head and grunted, as if he didn't know himself what he wanted to say.
"…listen. I know you and my daughter have been close lately. After what happened…you know…she doesn't trust me or confide in me. It seems to me that she has someone, that someone comes to her, I hear sounds from her room sometimes and I just − I just worry about her." He finished embarrassedly, rubbing his chin, lowering his gaze.
He stared at him with his eyes wide open and swallowed loudly, feeling his heart pounding hard.
She and he had talked many times about what they would do if someone caught them or asked them about it, but now that it had happened he was terrified of what he was about to do.
They had promised each other not to be like them.
That they wouldn't be cowards and liars.
He licked his lower lip, feeling the cold sweat on his back.
"Yes, she has someone." He replied coolly, taking a loud sip of cold water from his glass, looking at him with his heart beating fast.
Criston twisted uneasily in his place, looking at him uncertainly, putting his hands on his hips − he nodded, probably not knowing himself what he thought about it.
"Do you know who it is? Is it some boy from her studies, someone decent?" He muttered, running his hand involuntarily over his face in a nervous gesture.
He pressed his lips together before forcing out what he had wanted to say to his face for a long time.
"We've been together for almost two months."
Criston blinked, as if something in his sentence puzzled him, as if he had accidentally used a word incorrectly − his eyebrows arched in amusement, recognising it as an obvious mistake on his part.
"We?"
"Me and her."
The amusement disappeared instantly from his face; he saw that his lower lip twitched. He turned pale all over, his hand dropped as if without strength, he had the feeling that he was about to faint.
"This is not funny, Aemond." He said dryly, and he involuntarily chuckled under his breath, taking a deep sip of water, feeling suddenly confident again, knowing that he had him in his grip.
What the fuck could he do to him?
"That's my opinion as well. I take this relationship seriously." He hummed and Criston was suddenly right beside him − his fists was clenched on his sweatshirt, pressing his back against the fridge with a hard thud, his nostrils twitching in rage.
"Aemond, for fuck's sake, what are you talking about? Is this your revenge on me? Are you mocking me to show me how disgusted you are with me? You're entitled to it, but I swear if you touched her…"
"I love her."
Criston stared at him with wide eyes for a moment, then snorted with nervous laughter, shaking his head, his hands clenched warningly on the material of his clothes.
"What the fuck are you talking about? You fooled her and seduced her, took advantage of her naivety to get back at me? Hm?" He growled in rage while shaking him, an involuntary wide grin of superiority appearing on his face.
"I feel sorry for you if you think this is all about you. You and my mother can fuck as much as you want and beg for forgiveness like the true Christians you certainly are, I don't care. I don't give a fuck about you, pal. I want her."
Criston let go of him abruptly, running quickly up the stairs − he cursed under his breath moving immediately after him, remembering that she was lying under the blanket almost naked and that he had no way to warn her what was coming.
He heard her squeal and scream in terror as her father burst into her room turning on the light − she covered herself helplessly with the same blanket he had covered her with earlier looking at them terrified, breathing loudly through her mouth.
"What have you done?" Cole asked in disbelief, shaking his head. He moved suddenly from his place opening her wardrobe, pulling out her backpack, haphazardly packing her belongings into it − his mother appeared in the entrance to her room, rubbing her eyes, apparently snapped out of a deep sleep.
"Criston? What's wrong?"
"Get dressed. I'll take you to your mother." He said to her huskily; his daughter sat still, shaking all over and glanced at him with tears in her eyes. He swallowed loudly and looked indifferently at her father.
"She will stay with me."
Her father turned to him and looked at him with fury.
"Don't speak, brat, or I'll really fucking kill you!"
"Criston!" Cried Alicent, horrified and bewildered.
"What's going on here, how can you say something like that?" She asked spreading her arms and he pointed a finger at her son with a look full of accusation and pain.
"This little bastard is fucking my daughter to get revenge on me. He used her and he's fucking proud of it." He said clasping her backpack, his mother grabbed his arm, looking at him in disbelief.
"Aemond, what is he talking about?"
"He used me? I wanted it, Dad." She sobbed out in a breaking voice, and he felt a squeeze in his heart at the thought that she had not turned away from him, that she had defended him.
Her father shook his head, not listening to her at all, recognising that she was not thinking soberly, that he had manipulated her so much that she was saying what he wanted to hear.
"Get dressed." He growled and tugged on her arm so hard that the blanket slipped out of her hand exposing her breasts − she squealed and wept loudly, helplessly trying to cover herself again.
Seeing this he moved on him in involuntary reflex and pushed him away from her so hard that Cole hit the back of his head on her wardrobe.
"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH HER!"
He fell to the floor, losing his hearing and sight for a moment when Criston hit him in the face with his fist − he heard her muffled crying and screaming, heard her quickly put her sweatshirt on and run to him, trying to help him up, her father pulled her to move behind him despite her crying.
Alicent looked at them with horror and tears in her eyes, pale, covering her mouth with her hand, Daeron stood beside her in his childish pyjamas not understanding completely what he was looking at.
"Mummy, what's going on?"
"− dad, stop, it hurts −" She cried all red with tears, breathing loudly, trying to get away from him.
"− you should have thought of that earlier −" He growled pulling her towards the door, but she resisted, finally biting his hand and he groaned, letting her go at once.
She escaped and ran to him, falling to her knees, hiding in his arms, with which he immediately embraced her tightly, panting loudly along with her − he looked at her father with rage, seeing the bruises on her arms, her body trembling in convulsions as she sobbed loudly, terrified.
Criston looked at them in disbelief and shook his head − he looked at Alicent as if he had suddenly realised something.
"Did you know about this?"
His mother looked at him as if he was mad.
"What, of course not, God, Criston!" She mumbled helplessly and burst out into a loud sob herself − Criston ran his hand over his face, walking with a quick, anxious step around her room.
He stood over them impatiently, and he felt his stepsister snuggle tighter into him, clasping her fingers painfully tight on his back, begging him silently not to let her go.
"Get up. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. That's enough fooling around, we're going to your mother's. Come on." He said a little more calmly, but met with no reaction from her − his large hands were stroking her soft hair and back, his lips placing a gentle kiss on her head.
Criston hid his face in his hands, holding back the urge to kill him in front of his mother.
"You won. Okay? You won. We'll move out, you'll get your house back, we won't bother you. You'll never see me again, I promise. Just let her go already." He said powerlessly as if he understood exactly what he meant and what he wanted.
Normally he would have been amused by this, but now all he felt was tiredness.
He was tired of them.
He snuggled into her tighter, pressing his forehead against her shoulder, burying himself in her soft, sweet-smelling flesh, feeling her hold him tighter, her nose and lips nestled into his neck.
He heard Criston move from his place after a long moment and laughed, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing, walking out of the room, Alicent moving behind him.
"These kids are completely out of their fucking minds. I'm calling her mother."
He felt her flinch in his arms as she looked up at him in horror, his mouth forming a voiceless "We're leaving."
After five minutes they were both downstairs in front of his car − Criston hearing the front door open ran quickly down the stairs, looking at them in horror.
"…calm down, I know it's my fault, but you just have to…I know, I understand, like…fuck, stop, what are you doing? Get out!" He shouted loudly, furious to see her immediately get into the car, closing the door behind her, panicked. He got in from the driver's side and immediately started the engine, backing out of the driveway, moving forward with a squeal of tyres, leaving Criston and his crying mother behind.
He looked at her out of the corner of his eye letting out a loud breath, shaking all over, her figure seemed even smaller to him than normally.
She sat curled up covering her mouth, her eyes clenched in pain, a sea of tears running down her cheeks, she was struggling to catch her breath.
He quickly grabbed her hand that was lying on her thighs in his, and she squeezed it in a panicked gesture.
"I know, little one. It was very scary. I know, breathe." He whispered in a trembling voice, trying to calm her and himself at the same time, looking in the mirror to see if by any chance someone was following them.
They did it.
They ran away.
They showed them the middle finger and fucking left.
_____
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peachsayshi · 5 months
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there are two sides of nanami if he did survive shibuya -
he wouldn’t be the same.
on one side it would have hardened the softest parts left; where it would fuel an anger inside him that is rarely ever seen. he’s not cruel, but he’s violent. almost unrecognizable, incredibly morally grey. it doesn’t take away his golden light, it only exacerbates the flame.
on the second side is when he is drowning in an ocean of darkness; where he can’t escape the shadow or fear. he’s not weak, but he’s frightened. how much more of this pain does he have to carry? why does he feed his happiness away to the heaviness around him? his radiance is dwindling but he hides it behind a courageous smile.
regardless, I think the one thing for certain is that he wouldn’t stop being a sorcerer. he would keep going. despite the trauma. despite the pain. always playing the part as the martyr to protect everyone else.
I’ll carry this burden, he thinks, so no one else has to.
*sobs*
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jim-jam-gem · 6 months
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Mobius is all of us.
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jeffthekillerzblog · 5 months
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ticcijack is growing on me..help....
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stop I'm already creating scenarios for me au sighh
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irresia · 4 months
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oh he's barely conscious good god hIS EYES ARE SLIGHTLY OPEN
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punkinspice · 2 years
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"Covered in scars but roses are coming through the cracks" is such a raw line and its from a Sonic the Hedgehog song of course
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