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#their bond is what i live for bai
thwispsings · 5 months
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the idea came to me in a migraine induced dream but now im obsessed with the concept of a mu qingfang who knew the abuse bunhe was going through at the hands of og!shen qingqiu/shen jiu and did his best to treat the kid whenever he could (and bring his concerns to zhangmen shixiong, which were obviously very much ignored) and his constant worry over the situation means that when the qi deviation happens he is suspicious of shen qingqiu’s changes for all different reasons and very much protective of luo binghe -who is a sweet child and an earnest disciple who seems to always find the most incredible medicinal herbs to bring to his mu shishu as thanks for the care bestowed upon him- which means that when the whole shen qingqiu dying thing happens instead of bad mouthing luo binghe or fighting him at every chance he does his best to come over and keep an eye on things to try and help him and make sure luo binghe won’t kill himself trying to bring shen qingqiu back because he remembers that earnest kid and he’s witnessed luo binghe’s devotion to this shen qingqiu first hand and knows there is no way that the kid who cried when ning yingying found a bird with a broken wing and begged mu qingfang to fix it and the kid that would always borrow medical texts and try to find new herb combinations as if it was a game between him and qian cao disciples is actually doing anything nefarious to shen qingqiu’s corpse.
anyways in this essay i will-
#listen#binghe needs to have more people in his corner#and for some reason i have imprinted on mqf#so you get cool healer uncle#who probably smoked weed with binghe and made him promise to keep quiet#lbh and mqf bonding activity was teaching lbh to properly roll joints#anyways mqf understanding that the rituals are intricate and lqg doesn’t have any other way of coping with his grief#but the first time lqg injures lbh almost to death in a fight they get into a screaming match so violent#that no bai zhan discipline will look at him in the face without going pale for the next month#that is his nephew! who found several thought-to-be-extinct herbs for him!#also him telling sqq that lbh might have forgotten what he did but mqf certainly didn’t#a healer never forgets the wounds they heal#and sqq is just like yeah brother me neither :(#mqf is going to therapy these idiots so fucking hard#lbh also keeps trying to matchmake him with some nice demons in his court like shamelessly trying to poach his mu shishu#also he and shang qinghua are the only ones who still get the full shishu treatment#except lbh kinda bullies sqh a little for the virtue of the whole mbj situation#(hes never gonna let them live that down)#anyways it’s whatever at first but at one poont years in the future it does become a point of contempt with the other peak lords#nothing can take away from me that when bored they will squabble like children#such is the way of bored adults#i have rambled enough so normal tags now#svsss#svsss writing#luo binghe#shen qingqiu#mu qingfang#bingqiu#svsss au
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bro-atz · 11 days
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the time of my life
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in which: your roommates just want to cheer you up after you get stood up on your date.
pair: yunho/san/mingi/afab!reader
word count: 4.1k
content: smut, slightly pwp, foursome/gang bang, yunho has a slight foot fetish?, reader's a cum slut??, oral, anal, fingering, squirting, double (+ triple) penetration, throat fucking, fluid bonding-ish, definitely filthy, did i mention they all have massive cocks? unprotected sex (PLS USE PROTECTION IRL!), creampies, completely consensual!
rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact
author's note: several things! this is an unofficial part 2 to "that's what roommates are for", this is very heavily based but not entirely based on the pilot episode of new girl, and this was brought to you by me wanting revenge on @nebulousbrainsoup and enlisting the help of @skteezcursed and @k-hotchoisan !
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The second San got home, he heard the wretched opening notes to the song that made him and your other two male roommates want to scream into an abyss.
“I’ve had…” he heard you sniffling. “The time of my life…”
When he walked past the kitchen, he saw empty pints of ice cream scattered across the kitchen countertop, confirming that you were not doing well (although you sobbing while watching Dirty Dancing should’ve been enough for him to know). He entered the living room to see you curled into a ball and lying on the couch with your favorite blanket draped over you and tears in your eyes.
“Not again,” he murmured.
“Welcome home, San,” you whispered, your eyes darting to him briefly before you returned your gaze to the movie in front of you.
Before the movie could continue to make you sob, San immediately turned down the volume and sat right next to you, his strong hands pulling you up so that your head was on his broad shoulders.
“What’s wrong, roomie?” he asked as he tucked your hair behind your ear.
You were too emotional to answer. You settled for shaking your head and pressing your face into San's soft chest, your tears staining his shirt. With a gentle sigh, San let you cry in his arms while he rubbed your back.
After a good cry, you leaned back and looked at him. To be honest, San thought you would look a lot more disheveled given how you nuzzled your nose into his chest, but other than your red puffy eyes, you looked... Kind of pretty.
"I got stood up," you murmured.
"What?" San was shocked.
"Yeah... Mingi set me up with this guy, and he just never showed up..."
"What's his name?" San asked while standing up. "I'm going to go beat that guy up."
"No! Don't!" you stood up as well and grabbed his arm. "It's fine! It's not like I wanted to date the guy, anyway..."
"Huh? Then why are you sad? Shouldn't you be glad that you don't have to worry about him?"
"Because..."
You sat back down on the couch and sighed heavily. Tears were forming in your eyes again, and you were doing your best to keep them at bay. San took his seat next to you again and cupped your face, his thumb catching a stray tear.
"What if I end up alone for the rest of my life?" you asked him candidly.
"You won't end up alone—"
"No, like, think about it. The guys I like don't like me back because I'm not pretty like a model on a magazine cover or Barbie-like like Margot Robbie, the guys who like me are icky or gross or assholes, and if I were to get with a guy who liked me, then I'd have to settle, then that makes me wonder if my standards are too high and if I should cut back a little bit and just go with the flow, which is why I agreed to let Mingi set me up with this guy, but then when I do that, the guy stands me up—"
San knew that you needed to get out of your downward spiral, so he interrupted you with a kiss. It was soft, sweet, and so freaking nice, and you only got more upset when he stopped kissing you.
"Stop it," he whispered. "You won't be alone for the rest of your life, and you will find a great guy, so don't think like that about yourself."
You were speechless. Your eyes darted back and forth as you tried to decipher the look on his face and figure out exactly why he thought shutting you up with a kiss would be better than just covering your mouth.
"Also, not all of the guys who like you are icky... Or gross... Or assholes..."
The look on his face hardened slightly, and it was intense in a good way. The negative thoughts cleared out of your head so quickly as his hand guided your face closer to his, but before your lips could meet, the front door opened.
"Your friends suck, Mingi!" you heard Yunho exclaim as he and Mingi entered the apartment.
"That would mean you suck," Mingi shot back with a little bit of attitude.
San left your side and stood up. He left so abruptly, however, that you flopped forward onto the couch, your face planting in the cushion.
"I meant your friends apart from us, you dick," Yunho rolled his eyes.
"Come on, they're not that bad! San, you like them, right?"
"No, I'm going to have to agree with Yunho. Your friends are assholes," San stated definitively.
"Ha! See!" Yunho laughed.
"Ugh! What about you, Y/N? Didn't you like my friend?" Mingi turned to you and asked.
You didn't bother looking at Mingi. You kept your face planted in the couch cushion and shook your head.
"So no one likes my friends?!"
"Dude," Yunho placed a firm hand on Mingi's shoulder. "I say this with all the love in my heart. Your friends suck."
"Yeah, one of them just—"
The second you heard San speak, you shot up off the couch and covered his mouth before he could divulge any more information. Frowning, Mingi looked at both you and San before his eyes trailed off to the coffee table where there were balled up tissues and a pint of melted ice cream, and of course, he recognized the dialogue from the TV since the movie was still playing.
"Oh..." Mingi realized out loud. "Was he a prick?"
Pulling your hand off his face, San answered for you, "No, he never even showed."
"Shit," Mingi uttered as he ran his fingers through his hair in slight frustration. "My friends really do suck..."
Hesitantly, Mingi approached you. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head before whispering apologies to you over and over again. While you appreciated it, you couldn't help but start crying again.
"No, wait," Mingi started panicking. He pulled down the sleeve of his sweater and dried your tears while saying, "Why are you crying? Don't cry?"
You frowned painfully, and you tried to get the words out, but you were too choked up to even breathe properly.
"Let me see if I can get this right," Yunho spoke for you. "You got stood up, which made you feel like you weren't pretty, which made you wonder why you can't find a guy, and you overthought everything about your inability to find a suitable guy to date."
Yunho's explanation of your spiral was accurate, but you didn't appreciate the way he said it. You moved away from Mingi to glare at Yunho, and the other two men who were trying to comfort you also shot him an alarmed look.
"You don't have to be so candid about it," San sighed.
"Hey, at least I got her to stop crying," Yunho said in his defense.
"Yeah, but now she's angry at you, which is also not something we want," Mingi pointed out.
"There are other ways to get her to stop crying, you know," San said, his voice diminishing slowly and his face getting redder as he recalled the way he got you to stop spiraling and crying.
"Like what?"
San couldn't answer. He looked away while rubbing the back of his neck. Remembering how San kissed you to get you to stop talking, your face turned bright red. You lowered your head in hopes that neither of the other men would see your reaction, but your red ears did not go unnoticed by Mingi.
"Like what, San? Tell us," Yunho prompted.
"You could, uh, cover her mouth... Or tell her a joke... Or distract her—"
"You kissed her, didn't you?" Mingi accused.
"Yeah..."
"Why would you do that?!" Mingi exclaimed. "That's not fair! We promised we would set boundaries after what happened that one time!"
"You broke the pact, San!" Yunho added. Then, with a sudden, dramatic gasp, he added, "You broke the bro code..."
"Guys, I didn't mean to break the pact at first, I swear! She was just spiraling—"
"Hold on," you interjected, all three men clamping their mouths shut. "A pact? What pact?"
The men avoided your gaze; Yunho inspected the wall, Mingi scanned the floor, and San was suddenly interested in the ceiling. You frowned and crossed your arms over your chest.
"You guys better tell me what this pact is," you said with the most stern voice you could muster.
"...Alright, fine," Yunho said as he stepped forward. "You know that one night we, uh, slept together?"
"Uh huh..."
"Well, we—" Yunho gestured to himself and the other two men. "Kind of figured out that all three of us like you... And that we wouldn't try to pursue you, if you will, so that none of us got hurt..."
"So none of you would get hurt," you amended. "You're telling me that instead of being with someone half decent, you've been setting me up on horrible dates where the guys are complete jerks or try to ship me off with some loser because you don't want to step on anyone's toes?"
"It's more than that, Y/N," San sighed. "We all like you—"
"Don't I get a say in it too?" you interrupted. "Just because you like me, it doesn't mean that we'll automatically start dating!"
All three men looked down at the ground guiltily. You huffed and lowered your arms, your sadness completely vanishing, leaving you angry and annoyed.
"God..."
You grabbed the TV remote and turned off the movie before cleaning up the living room and kitchen. The three of them lingered near you as they wanted to ask you a question.
"So..." Mingi asked tentatively. "If you had to pick one of us... Who would you pick?"
You scoffed. You looked him dead in the eye and said, "After finding this out? None of you."
"Come on, Y/N, please don't be mad at us," San tried to reason with you. "We honestly thought that this was the best option for all of us to live together peacefully and happily..."
He reached for your arm, but you swatted him away. "How can I not be mad? I've been sitting here thinking I'm worthless because not a single guy worthwhile will ever like me, only to find out that the ones who are actually pretty decent tried to decide my life for me?"
You walked out of the kitchen, but Yunho blocked your path.
"You know that's not what we meant by that," he said, his voice soft, low, reassuring; but you were anything but reassured.
"Yeah? Well, that's how it feels."
You pushed past him. You walked towards your bedroom, but before you could open the door, someone hugged you from behind.
"We're so sorry, Y/N," you heard Mingi's voice rumble in your ear. "We're so, so sorry that we made you feel that way..."
Earlier, when Mingi apologized to you, you started crying, but this time, you were crying... But elsewhere. Mingi's hands around your waist this time around were a lot more exploratory. He laid them on your hip bones and pressed his chest right up against your back before bringing his lips to your ear, his low apologies getting way too sensuous.
"Mingi... Stop..." you sighed while trying your damn best to not let him know how good his hands felt on your body.
"Not until you accept my apology."
"Don't you think all three of you should apologize, then?"
"Of course we will," Yunho spoke up as he approached you from the right, his fingers tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear. Mingi stood upright again, allowing Yunho to say softly into your ear, "We're sorry."
"We're really sorry, roomie," San said as he stood on the other side of you, kissing your cheek lightly as he did so.
San continued to pepper kisses all over your face while taking your hand in his and rubbing circles on your palm, and Yunho opted to start marking up your neck, his fingers tickling your ear as he ran them through your hair. Mingi, who was still behind you, was letting out soft grunts as he buried his nose in your hair and inhaled slowly, deeply.
"What are you sorry for?" you breathed out.
"For keeping secrets from you... And trying to decide your life for you," San answered.
You pulled yourself away from Yunho and Mingi, Mingi whining as a result, and wrapped your arms around San's shoulders. You kissed him softly at first, but San's animalistic instincts kicked in, and he kissed you much harder while wrapping his arms around your waist.
"Don't you think you're paying a little too much attention to him?" Mingi asked somewhat huffily.
"You didn't tell me what you were sorry for," you answered, pushing San away just enough so he'd let you nag the other two.
"Well, I'm sorry for making you more upset when you were already feeling pretty shitty," Yunho said his apologies, and you allowed him to get near you again.
"And you, Mingi?"
"I'm sorry for trying to set you up with that asshole, and for not making a move sooner."
With that, Mingi quickly lunged for you— making you yelp— and carried you into your room before pinning you down to your bed and kissing you roughly. He shoved his hands under your shirt and held your waist tightly. You found yourself getting swept away in his passion, your hands gripping the back of his neck as you pulled him closer.
"I promise you," Mingi uttered between kisses, his breaths shallow. "I'll never make you feel like that again. I'll never let you doubt your self worth ever again."
His words would've made you cry had he not pressed his knee between your legs, his knee rubbing as he moved into you repetitively.
"Mingi, if we're going to break the pact, then shouldn't we all get a chance?" Yunho asked while getting on the bed alongside you.
"You'll have your chance after," Mingi said as he stopped kissing you and sat up.
"I think we all should have a fair shot right now, don't you agree, Y/N?" San sat on the bed as well, his hand brushing your hair out of your face. "It's your decision at the end of the day."
Your mind hazy, you didn't give a fuck. You wanted any of them— no, all of them— to treat you right after the shitty day you had. Whining, you told him, "What you said— That one. I just want to feel good..."
"You heard the lady," Mingi said with a smirk. "Let's give her what she wants."
The three of them helped you undress. You knelt on the bed and observed them. They were trying to be respectful of you, but their eyes were scanning your body. San was the first to move— just like last time. He held your hand and began trailing kisses up your arm slowly, his lips rubbing against your skin.
Yunho, however, took a more aggressive approach— apparently his own patience was wearing very thin. He swiftly lifted you, bringing your legs out. His slender fingers traced a line up the arch of your foot. Your entire body trembled because it was ticklish, but Yunho's intense gaze on your legs shifting to you sent a wide array of emotions to your brain. He stroked your leg, and like San, he trailed kisses up your leg. He started leaving dark marks on your thighs while San opted to do that to your neck.
Mingi sat behind you, his hands wrapping around you and holding your breasts. He had his lips by your ear, his teeth occasionally nibbling on your earlobe as he whispered dirty things to you.
"We're going to make you feel so good," he said, his low voice driving you insane already. "We're gonna fuck you until you can't think straight or speak well... We're gonna make you forget your own name..."
His hold on your breasts got tighter when he heard you stifle a moan. He dropped his head to your shoulder and bit down gently. You gasped, but not just because of him, but because Yunho started working on the space between your legs. You grabbed his hair and tried to get him to go slower because his tongue was flicking your clit at an insane pace. Then, when he shoved two of his slender fingers into your cunt, you were done for.
You were moaning and gasping continuously the closer you got to cumming, but those noises were minimized when San grabbed your face with one hand and kissed you roughly, his tongue practically going down your throat. You held the back of his neck and dug your nails into his skin the longer he kissed you ferociously.
The knot inside you relaxed slightly when Yunho sat up and moved away from your cunt, but then the knot got extremely tight and snapped when Mingi shoved his middle two fingers inside you and fingered you fast and rough. San stopped kissing you to let you scream and cry as you squirted all over Mingi's hands and on your bed.
All three men immediately stripped down to nothing, giving you only seconds to recover from cumming. However, as soon as Mingi shoved his cock in you, you came again since you were still so sensitive from cumming the first time. You were cumming, but Mingi didn't let up in the slightest. He rammed his waist against yours hard before pulling out and letting you actually cum fully. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and you cried loudly as you covered the bed with more of your arousal.
"Don't you think that was a little too aggressive, Mingi?" Yunho asked Mingi with a slight frown.
"Not at all," Mingi said while petting your head. "I know just what she needs and what she can handle..."
"Yeah, well, you're not the only one," San quipped. He then turned to you and said, "Could you lie down on your stomach for me, please?"
You did as San requested before he manhandled you completely (not that you were complaining because just the act of turning onto your stomach was a Herculean task). He pulled your ass into the air, collected your arousal from your soaking wet pussy, and shoved two fingers into your hole. You grit your teeth to keep from yelping in surprise as he kept spreading his fingers inside you.
While San was busy with your ass, Mingi decided to slip into the space under you. He stuck his fingers in your mouth, the ones he used to finger you just moments before, giving you a taste of yourself.
"You taste sweet... Don't you agree?" he whispered to you, his other hand holding the back of your head, bringing your face closer to his.
He didn't even bother letting you respond. He kissed you, but he was a lot more gentle than you were expecting him to be. You thought that for about two seconds until he lined up his cock with your cunt. He moved his hands to your ass and sat you down on his cock quickly, sending shocks and electricity through your body. You were so startled, in fact, you nearly bit Mingi's lower lip.
Mingi started rolling his hips upwards, his large cock tearing your insides up. Tears were slipping from your eyes again, but this time because you felt so fucking good. Mingi's cock was doing suck a good job at fucking all of the thoughts out of your head that you didn't realize San moved so that he was above you, his chest pressing against your back while the tip of his cock teased your ass.
"You're going to relax and take me like a good girl, alright?" San spoke softly into your ear.
You nodded, making the man waste no more time in pressing his cock into your ass. You gripped the bed sheets tightly as you felt his cock bulge while pushing forward. San exhaled slowly through his teeth, and he let out a sigh the second he bottomed out.
"Fuck..." San said softly. "You're going to squeeze my cock off... So fucking tight..."
So, you did your best to relax again, but every time either San or Mingi moved, you couldn't help but clench, driving both men insane, making them groan into your ears. You let a long sigh of pleasure, your cunt relaxing just enough for them to start fucking you faster. The way their cocks rubbed inside you made you scream and cry— you felt so fucking good, so fucking full, but not all of your holes were filled.
Yunho by you, his fingers running through your hair before holding your head and turning it to face him. He stroked himself as he teased your lips with the tip of his cock, barely giving you a taste of his pre-cum. You opened your mouth, inviting him to push his cock all the way to the back of your throat, making you gag.
Not a single man gave you mercy after that; they fucked you as if their life depended on it. Yunho kept your head in place as he thrust his cock into your mouth repeatedly, his cock hitting the back of your throat every single thrust and making you gag. San was clenching your asscheeks tightly as your ass kept swallowing his cock into your tight hole, and Mingi held onto your waist, his cock going deeper and deeper inside you.
"Shit, I'm so close," Mingi groaned to the point where it was practically a whine. "Can I cum inside you?"
Yunho pulled his cock out of your mouth to let you verbally give Mingi permission. You cried and nodded while saying, "I want to be so full of cum that I feel like I'll explode— Ah! Fuck!"
Hearing you utter those words made San pull out immediately, his cock bulging and throbbing. He and Yunho kept fucking their fists while Mingi ruined your pussy to the point where you thought he was going to start a fire. Groaning loudly, Mingi pressed his head into the mattress and came, his cum spurting inside you. He kept his cock deep inside you, more cum filling you up every time his cock twitched.
The second Mingi let out a sigh of relief, though, San pulled you off him and laid you down on your side. He wrapped his strong arms around you and clutched your breast with one hand while the other held your leg up after he shoved his cock in your cunt to add to the pool of cum inside you. He lasted about five strokes before grunting and sighing in your ear. His cock shuddered inside you before firming up again, but he was forced to pull out by Yunho.
Yunho pinned you down on the bed so that he could look at your face while he fucked you. His hips rolled into yours fluidly, and he kissed your ear over and over again while asking, "You feel good? You like when our cocks fuck you up? You like being a little cum slut for us?"
You couldn't even let out words anymore. You cried and moaned in agreement. You held onto Yunho's back and wrapped your legs around his waist as he sped up— he'd been ready to cum ever since you choked on his cock the first time. Through the tears in your eyes, you saw him grit his teeth, his jaw tensing as he bit back his erotic sighs and groans. However, one groan slipped out when he rammed his cock inside and touched your cervix, making you cream around his cock while he stuffed you full with his cum.
When Yunho pulled out, you clenched your cunt to try to keep the cum from spilling onto your bed, but that wasn't possible since Mingi pushed your legs up and San spread your folds, their cum trailing out of you. Yunho collected some of the cum on his fingers and pushed them into your mouth. You sucked on his fingers and swallowed, Yunho doing his best to stay calm, only for his cock to betray him by springing up.
Actually, all three of them were hard again, and they all seemed to want to ruin you further, but they first had to ask.
"Which one of us do you want?"
"All of you."
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esoteriamaya · 2 months
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astro thoughts : short n sweet <3 the beauty of venus
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Venus in the 1st house wants to be loved for more than their appearance. They have the gift of gab just like their mercurial friends. You can forgive them easier than any other person because of their charm holding their appearance/personality together. Much more easier to like, but they do have a dark side no one knows about.
Venus in the 2nd house does not play around when getting to the money. Entrepreneurs by a long slide. But they don't tell you how they get their money ;) Sugar daddy placement, much like the 8th house, but its a little different. Its transactional only. Relationships usually need them to be on the receiving end only for their satisfaction. Have an appetite for money making tactics a lot more than any other second house placement (mercury & saturn being runner ups).
Venus in the 3rd house has a whimsical energy tied to it. Individuals with this placement have a lust for live, just the drive to their destination can bring them joy. Its like they live every day in the moment, inspiring us with what they find in the process.
Venus in the 4th house has a beautiful family. There relationships with family members could be up to par, they could be the favorite sibling or they generally just get a long with everybody. The downside to this placement could be that their family has full of secrets as this is a private house normally. They normally keep a lot about themselves at bay from the public (opposite to the 10th) and most never know them unless you are REALLY close to them, even then its just a mystery.
Venus in the 5th house are the charismatic personalities people adore. There players and can have anyone they want and its usually all fun and games until they meet their match. These are the royal lovers so their very choosy. What I like about this placement is they do not mind constantly getting to know people. They are almost always talking to new people as the dating scene is their playground.. its really what they came here for. They are meant to live a life full of playfulness, inspiration, and luxurious lifestyle if they allow themselves to get it.
Venus in the 6th house are powerhouses when they go for what is meant for them. They need a new routine to make themselves feel good. If they gotta get up and do their makeup to make themselves feel better than that'll do it. If they gotta workout everyday to get that dream body, then their up for the challenge. They love to be of service to people, but they have to remember they cannot always help people with their responsibilities.
Venus in the 7th house are truly popular individuals and they can be well liked by mostly everyone they come across. The thing about this placement is that I have noticed is that they can typically get in a lot of disputes with others. Could be seen as fake and wishy washy to some, but the best friend to others. It doesn't matter there kind of isn't a in between. They do have a nice personality and can keep up the charm with a lot of people. Can get what they want out of others in personal relationships mostly.
Venus in the 8th house have a deep bond with themselves and this chemistry have with their individualism is seen by others and it changes the way people view them. Others may like them for what they do for them and they can feel pretty used up if they are not careful. People want them for their looks and this can be annoying somethings. They gave a transformative bond with their relationships for better or for worse. If they focus on themselves this energy can work for their benefit and theirs alone.
Venus in the 9th house has a deep bond with the universe in a way that makes them more transparent with themselves and they way they feel about life. They live a long time finding the true meaning of life but in each day, each hour, each moment they can find the gift in what the world brings. They are capable of finding that their is more than what meets the eye, and their inspirational in the conquest of it all. Their gift is in the eye of jupiter, in which they see things in a whole nother view than others. And they have a way of sharing that information that they get from just walking outside or being home alone with their thoughts.
Venus in the 10th house are very well known for their beauty, the compassionate nature, their ability to meet their eyes with the crowd and just borderline energetic individuals. Even if bad news comes out about them, the public usually ignores this and focus more on their talents and personality. I feel this placement is a life saver. Can keep these people from the wrong energy at times, even if its impossible to get away from.
Venus in the 11th house can show a potential for having good company around them. Very sweet and compelling natives, their hearts are super big and can be really helpful to others on a day to day basis. Can genuinely be a people pleaser but this can work out for them some days. Could be popular on social media.
Venus in the 12th house have an alluring nature to them. These are the type of people that can hypnotize you and suddenly youre somewhere you have never been. They can take you on a journey with just their mind alone. They are gifted in the arts, a lot of celebs tend to have this placement. They are a gift to be around and not everyone is allowed to be around them. They can be sort of obsessive when it comes to something or someone they love. This is where the good art can come from. Very mysterious creatures, they move like a siren.
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deadsetobsessions · 3 months
Text
Sea Cryptic! Danny Pt.9
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.10]
"Fan-sea meeting you here. You must be Phantom!"
Danny slowly turned around, grin blinding. "I shore am. Who's asking?"
Danny knew exactly who was asking. Bludhaven's vigilante, Nightwing. If the giant dark blue bird emblazoned on the front of his suit didn't give it away, the friendly demeanor and the puns would have. Plus, now that Danny's figured out who Tim was, the rest were pretty simple dots to be connected.
"Hi. I'm Nightwing. Thanks for saving Batman."
"I am Phantom. You are welcome. Please lecture him on the necessity of keeping the waters clean."
"Uh, I think he knows," Nightwing grinned. “So, why are you cleaning Gotham’s bay? I heard the Atlantic is nice this time of year.”
“Exactly. This?” Danny flapped a gloved hand around them, specifically at the moldy docks and the paint scraped board. “This is not nice. If it were nice, I wouldn’t need to be cleaning it. Look at that paint! It’s flaking off into the water! Does Gotham not have proper boat maintainance? That’s dangerous for the waters and seafarers!”
“Woah, you know a lot about boats,” Nightwing commented, crossing his arms and leaning back. What the hero didn’t know was that he knew more about boats than Danny did, as Danny’s hyper fixation was more focused on space ships and Dick had education à la maison de Bruce Wayne which usually meant an absurd amount of information for someone who doesn’t actually use boats as a regular mode of transportation.
“Rust! Rust is very much a thing!” Danny ranted, using his ice to scoop up water and using it like a makeshift filter. “It weakens bonds! It’s a tetanus hazard! And oh, don’t even get me started on how you people mutated the ocean life!”
“Mutated ocean life? I’m pretty sure we hadn’t. It’s just a little weird, right?”
Without another word, Danny dove into the weird ecosystem that was the Gotham bay. He came back holding a wriggling green thing the size of a worm.
“Do you know what this is?” Danny demanded. The thing flopped around on his gloved hands.
“A sea monkey?”
“They’re brine shrimp. Brine. Shrimp. Do you know what regular brine shrimp look like???” Danny shoved the thing at Nightwing, who took a step back.
“Not like that?” He replied, a quizzical look on his face.
“No, not like that! What in the ancients is this?!” Danny waved the weird sea brine that had started glowing faintly, like Danny’s natural ectoplasm glow. “Far be it from me of all people to judge evolution but this was all man made!” Danny gently tossed the brine shrimp back into the bay. “Brine shrimp is staple food for the ocean! You’ve got weird brine shrimp? You’ve got weird fish! Why is it impossible for this place to, for even one day, refrain from dumping hazardous chemicals or dead bodies in the water?”
“Ooookay, how about we take a breather?” Nightwing quickly glanced around, trying to find something to change the subject, feeling oddly guilty at the earnest expression on the kid’s face. “Uh, I was actually wondering if you’d swing by the waters near Blüd?”
Danny crossed his arms. “I clean the waters as a past time because you humans don’t know how to keep it clean. I am not a personal, on call, seakeeper.”
“Batman will pay you for your time,” Dick offered. Danny straightened. Amity didn’t actually cost that much to live well, but Gotham was a whole other ball park. The rent might be dirt cheap for a city, but the special pricey little add ons such as gas masks and space level insulation on top of the sky high insurance policies were draining what’s left of his half dead soul. As they say, Danny was a city dweller first and Phantom second.
“How much, when, and I won’t fish up the bodies unless he pays me extra.”
“Four thousand base pay, extra one hundred per identity, fifty for bodies with no shades, and on the weekends.”
Danny straightened as his mother’s steel spine, Jazz’s whip sharp wit, and his own craftiness made their appearance as he bargained. “Five thousand. Rate agreed, but I can only do every other weekends and I’ll have to call out some days.”
“Okay.” Nightwing rocked back on his heels with an affable smile. It’s Bruce’s money and it’s going towards his probable future baby brother, after all, even if said baby brother is a dead immortal Atlantis founder. Or something.
Danny groaned. “You are supposed to bargain back. But I’ll take it.”
“Great! Who do we got tonight?” Nightwing looked down at the plastic/burlap wrapped person Danny dragged onto the shores a bit ago.
“The lake kept the body cold, so it should be preserved adequately if you want to examine him,” Danny tilted his head to the side, the flames of his hair tilting with him. “He said his name is Gorganzo Bean.”
“Really?”
“Yes. It’s a nickname he got for eating a whole can of beans straight.”
“Yeah, that’ll do it. Any more details?”
“Sure.”
When Danny reached to take the money from Nightwing, he found that the hero had tightened his grip on it.
Danny pointedly dropped his gaze from Nightwing’s face to the money.
“Wait. I- I heard from a source that you could possibly smell souls.”
Danny yanked the cash out of Nightwing’s hand and shoved it into his shoulder. If that didn’t confirm Nightwing’s identity, he doesn’t know what would other than the guy telling Danny who he was. “You’ve been speaking with Danny. Yes, I can.”
“Can you tell what’s wrong with my brother?” Nightwing blurted out.
Danny stared at him, his legs flickering in and out to his tail form. “…Other than dressing in probably leather or Kevlar and going out to beat criminals with his bare hands?”
Nightwing opened and closed his mouth. He coughed awkwardly. “Other than that. Why is he- um, stinky? Soul-wise,” Nightwing added, clearly humoring the tinny little voice at the base of his temples that was an annoyed Red Hood saying that he showered. “He showers often. And is definitely not stinky body odor wise.”
“I am not a doctor. Well, not now anyways,” Danny said, thinking about his future PhD. “But he’s got a… soul infection. His natural immunity- all souls have a natural immunity against regular outside influences- is working hard to repel the equivalence of chronic bronchitis.”
“There’s… no way to help him?”
“I never said that,” Danny tilted his head. “Bring your brother to meet Danny. He could probably handle it.”
“The civilian?”
“His parents hunted my kind, once. He helped protect me and my people. If anyone knows how to cure it, it would be him.”
Phantom could not afford to deal with this right now, because Danny had a presentation tomorrow that he needed to finish.
“Oh. Thank you, Phantom.” Nightwing said, looking relieved and pensive. Danny decided right then and there that was Future Danny’s problem.
Danny nodded distractedly, blinking out.
He blinked back in. Nightwing jerked back. “Do you happen to have any examples of corrupt politicians in Gotham?”
Nightwing blinked before laughing. “It’d probably be easier to name the ones that aren’t.”
“Good to know. Thank you!”
——
A couple of days later, Tim and two older guys ambushed him in the quad.
“Hi! I’m Dick! This is my brother Jason! We’re Tim’s older brothers!”
Danny looked down at his hand- trapped in an overexcited handshake- and back up at Dick.
Whatever expression he was making, it must have been ha-fucking-larious because Tim and Jason burst out into laughter. Danny cursed his past self.
“Yeah?” Danny blinked. Wait. His smile grew and he made a face like he just realized something. “Oh. So you’re Nightwing?”
The laughter cut off.
“Haha, what?”
“Phantom told me you’d be coming but I, uh, thought you’d be in gear. Not… straight up telling me who you are?”
“You’re in regular contact with Phantom?” Tim demanded.
“Yeah, dude. After you- wait, you’re Red Robin!” Danny whispered.
“Oh shit, B’s gonna be pissed,” Jason drawled, looking mildly amused and hiding an extremely cautious, possibly lethal (if it weren’t for the fact that Danny’s pretty much impossible to kill with regular weapons) reaction.
“You’re one to talk. I’d smell your soul no matter what your disguise was.”
“…About that.”
——
You might be wondering: wouldn’t Dick know not to show up in civvies?
Yes. Except for the fact that Tim stalked Danny for weeks after he met Phantom and Danny hadn’t hung out with (himself) at all. They think Danny doesn’t know Phantom well enough to even talk to him much, despite being from the same town because: they’re all big city kids and have never experienced small town solidarity and, more importantly, gossip grapevines + they have no idea these two are the same people.
A deleted scene:
“When did you have time to talk to Phantom?” Tim demanded. Jason nudged Tim. That had hinted too much at what Tim was doing on his off hours and stalking was usually frowned upon.
“When I wasn’t talking to you, duh.”
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fangswbenefits · 10 months
Text
The Arrangement (4) - Solution
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Chapter summary: Wyll comes bearing a solution to your predicament with Astarion... what could possibly go wrong?
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Word count: 3.5k
Previous chapter . Series Masterlist . Ao3
Snow.
Why was it snowing in Baldur's Gate this time of the year?
It didn't make any sense whatsoever.
But there was no denying it when the cold yet tender caresses of snowflakes began to spread  across the swell of your cheeks.
A distant voice was calling out to you, but you could only smile blissfully at the warm embrace of its familiarity. 
It was as the winter sun that insisted on tearing through storm clouds rolling over the majestic Baldurian mountains: powerful enough to melt the frost away, and unforgiving once its rays shined out the brightest.
The faint scent of bergamot laced with rosemary surrounded you like a soft blanket.
You did recognise that scent… and your  smile immediately dropped.
The voice got louder and louder, but your feet were now moving on their own until you were at the edge of a cliff.
Then you plummeted without looking back. 
An agonising scream reverberated through your mind like a knife in the dark, twisting and prodding until you jolted awake at once.
Your eyes snapped open and you saw Astarion's face first and felt his icy fingers on your face next.
As a surge of panic and dread took over, you instinctively slapped his hand away.
“What are you doing?”
“You were squirming and screaming.”
You quickly propped yourself on your elbows, realising he sat at your feet, brows furrowed and an unreadable look on his face. 
Another nightmare? But it hadn't started off like that. They rarely did. 
As your eyes roamed along the length of your body, it dawned on you that his scent had made it all the way to your subconscious because his cloak was now covering you.
Noticing your realisation, he cleared his throat. “You were shivering in your sleep. You humans can be so… frail.”
You wish you could hate him. You truly wish you could loathe him with your entire being, especially after your earlier exchange.
It would make it so much easier to overcome the longing feelings you had for him.
But, it would seem, he was bent on making it harder for you and this bond wasn't easily severed on a whim.
Instinctively, you pulled the fabric of his cloak snuggly around your neck as if it would be enough to keep him at bay.
“I would have offered my body heat, if I had any left,” he said with a shrug, pulling one knee up against his chest. 
Right.
Vampire.
No body heat unless he was well fed.
“Did I… say anything?”
The last thing you needed right now was for your subconscious to betray you by having you mumble out his name in a suggestive manner.
The faintest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Hard to make out anything intelligible in the midst of all the grunts and moans.”
“Good.”
Hold on… grunts and… moans?
“Oh please, don't look so horrified,” he said with a click of his tongue. “A much welcome distraction considering how tedious it's been in here.”
Typical.
A scowl settled on your face as you shifted across the mattress, pulling your knees up together and increasing the distance between you two.
The faint earthy and citrusy scent of bergamot enveloped you, and your eyes fluttered shut.
For someone who was bound to live in the shadows and prowl the streets after the sun went down, Astarion surely carried the fragrance that resembled Summer days the most.
You didn't feel cold even in this damp-filled cell. 
It wasn't even related to the cloak itself, as it wasn't thick enough to make much of a difference.
No.
It was purely an unavoidable consequence of being near him.
Even in his icy coldness, Astarion brought out warmth that would put the most fierce of flames pale in comparison.
“What's on your mind?” 
His purring voice snapped you from your thoughts, and you blinked the tiredness away, ignoring his question. “What time is it?”
“Judging from how the guards are way past the threshold of sobriety… my guess is that it's close to midday.”
You slowly dragged yourself up into a sitting position, heaving a deep sigh. “I just want to get out of here.”
“Well, we can.”
“Astarion.”
He turned his head to you. “What? You are a powerful sorcerer. They wouldn't stand a chance.”
It was a proper observation, and it surely wasn't an attempt at stroking your ego. He had seen enough of your abilities to know you could have metal melt if you so desired.
But still… “I'm sure Wyll will come soon.”
He let out a sound of pure discontent. “Yes. Your prince charming shall be here soon to save the day.”
You simply ignored him.
And Astarion hated being ignored.
So, naturally, he made sure he had your attention.
“I would just like to point out that–”
His voice died in your ears as the sound of steady paces echoed across the halls with salutes being exchanged.
You immediately lunged forward, leaving his cloak behind before pressing your face against the bars and gripping them tightly.
“Excuse me? I was talking to you.”
Astarion's outrage would have to be put on hold for the time being.
You recognised that voice and that level of respect mimicked by the guards outside.
“Wyll!”
Astarion joined your side in an instant, as the Grand Duke came into sight.
His face was heavy and he didn't bear a reassuring smile. It was such a foreign look on him, it gave you whiplash.
Your hopeful smile eventually dropped as he approached you.
“My friends, what an unfortunate turn of events.”
He placed one hand atop yours and you nodded eagerly. “Please. We are not guilty of whatever they are accusing us of.”
His young face eased slightly. “So you haven't committed any crime?”
“That's the general definition,” Astarion chimed him, visibly annoyed. 
“Why am I not surprised you are involved in this?” Wyll retorted, but his words – unlike Astarion's – held no ill-intent. 
“Oh, I thought you were aware that I'm the root of all evil in Baldur's Gate?” he said, voice dripping with cutthroat sarcasm. “Your psychic powers must be below par as of late, Wyll.”
You shot him a death glare, wanting nothing more than to cast Silence on him.
However, Wyll let out a loud and heartfelt laughter that had the other prisoners whine and rattle against the bars of their enclosure.
“Charming as always – even under such dire circumstances.”
Astarion's lips held the fakest smile ever. “Glad I could be of entertainment.”
“Especially considering that I'm most likely your only way out of this.” Wyll said in a tone that prickled the hair at the nape of your neck.
Great.
Astarion and his never-ending ability to annoy people beyond oblivion.
“Yes, I'm sure Circus of the Last Days is one clown short,” you said maliciously, side-eyeing him. “Maybe he'd prefer it over there.”
He dreaded clowns in a way that was almost comical, and your remark was enough to silence him at once, but not without having him shoot daggers with his intense stare.
Wyll cleared his throat, his eyes fixed on you.  “Listen. I believe in your innocence, my friend.”
Your heart soared high. 
“However…”
Ah, yes. There was always an inconvenient ‘however’ somewhere.
“I must look into this matter further, as the Council of Four demands. If it were solely up to me, I would have you out of here right now.”
Your heart plummeted to the ground at once.
“But it is up to you. You have the final word,” Astarion pointed out.
“Be it as it may, I cannot favour acquaintances when an alleged crime is committed.”
Astarion scoffed. “Demoting us from friends to acquaintances in under thirty seconds. My, my… and you worried I was the power-hungry one of the group.”
Wyll placed his hand on your shoulder and you glared intensely at him. “Give me a few hours, and I will see to it that you get out of here.”
He wasn't being deceitful in the slightest. Wyll's sense of righteousness and moral compass were nearly always fine tuned. 
Besides, you had nothing to fear.
Justice was on your side.
But there was clearly someone out there who wasn't, and that made your skin crawl.
Which begged the question… “Why do you believe in our innocence? I mean… I was expecting an interrogation at the very least.”
He gave you a sincere smile of affection. “My dear friend, I know you well enough to doubt your words. This crime doesn't suit you. Besides, across those weeks together, I was able to find hope where there was none. You joined forces with the unlikeliest of allies and turned on potential ones to help us all out – to help Baldur's Gate.”
A looming sense of discomfort was brewing deep inside as his words hit you.
It wasn't so much that he was exaggerating or singing praises that you were undeserving of, but you would have never made it that far on your own.
Not without him.
Or even without Astarion.
“This city is indebted to you,” he went on, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I am sure this misunderstanding will be resolved soon, but I'm afraid protocols and bureaucracy must still be addressed properly.”
You reluctantly nodded, knowing deep down that he was right.
His position was one that came with great responsibility, and it would be folly of him to not act in accordance to what was expected of him as Grand Duke.
“If you wish, I could have you moved to an overground cell – just in case Astarion is being too overbearing,” he quickly added.
“No, no. I reckon I can withstand a few more hours in his presence before losing my sanity,” you chuckled at him.
“You do know I can hear you, don't you?” Astarion said with a dramatic roll of his eyes. 
“I shall have some fruit sent over.”
“Thank you.”
He nodded and turned his head to Astarion. “Is there anything I can get you?”
“Yes, you can get me out of here.”
Wyll pursed his lips firmly together.
You hit with a ‘be nice’ scowl, which had him heave a deep sigh. “Alright, alright. I don't require any blood just yet. Our dear friend was kind enough to let me feed on her a few days ago.”
“Right.”
Wyll wasn't amused in the slightest and you couldn't blame him. It wasn't an ideal arrangement, and he was a monster hunter at heart, which only fueled his dislike for Astarion boasting about it.
With a final nod, he took his leave even as prisoners banged on the bars of their cells in a failed attempt at taunting him.
Once again, you pressed your forehead against the bars. “We're getting out of here soon.”
Astarion was leaning on his side against the door, eyeing you. “You know, darling… I do wonder if you're trying to convince me or yourself at this point.”
You didn't reply.
But it was probably both.
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“So… who do you think got us into this mess?”
“Oh, I do so love guessing games,” he said, securing the cloak around him before sitting down on his mattress. “Well, I'm sure our list of foes didn't thin out even with the heroic display to save the city.”
Good point.
You took a hungry bite from an apple. “Hmm… it'd be less of a nuisance to just kill us, no?”
“If by ‘us’ you mean ‘you’, then sure. I don't die easily, as I know you're aware, darling.”
Another good point, even though a wooden stake might beg to differ.
“Maybe it really is just one big misunderstanding.”
“... but?”
You glared at him with furrowed brows. “But what?”
He shrugged. “Isn't there always a ‘but’?”
Your mind had begun to wander into other possibilities, each new one more alarming than the previous. 
It was particularly daunting to wonder whether this Ava woman had had a hand in this.
Should you even bring it up to him? Maybe.
“Well?” He pressed, crimson eyes never leaving yours. “I know you have something on your mind, so feel free to share with the audience, darling.”
You hesitated at first, unsure it would be the wisest choice. He was clearly fond of her, but you just couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that she could be up to something.
Or maybe it was just wishful thinking. 
Maybe you were simply allowing your protective feelings over Astarion to get in the way and cloud your judgment.
Maybe she was nothing more than a mere courtesan and not some scheming criminal. 
Besides… what reason would she have to frame both of you for this?
The more you thought about it, the more ridiculous it sounded, so you chose to keep it to yourself.
“I'm inclined to believe we were set up, but I don't know by whom,” you eventually said, not intending on passing out accusations just yet. 
His eyes narrowed. “You're not being truthful.”
Thrown for a loop, you blinked. “You think I'm lying?”
“I know you're lying.”
You gave him a sour glare. “I suppose it takes one to know one.”
He actually genuinely laughed at your remark. “Touché, my dear.”
One didn't easily win the title of charlatan over nothing, after all. 
He'd spent decades honing his skill in the art of deception, which had you falling for his sweet lies so easily when you two first met.
Not wanting to go down that road, you shove the memory aside and focused on the apple in your hand instead.
Silence settled heavily around you, only broken by your occasional bites.
The door to the prison hall swung open all of a sudden, but neither of you shifted.
It was probably nightfall by now, and you had gotten used to the intrusive sounds that erupted from time to time. 
Hurried steps caught your attention and you turned to find Wyll by the bars.
You scrambled out of bed as fast as a lightning bolt with Astarion following suit.
“You're getting out of here.”
An overwhelming wave of relief washed over you and you could nearly cry of joy.
“Finally. Took you long enough.” Astarion said.
Wyll's face dropped slightly. “It is not without compromise, I'm  afraid.”
Oh.
It was to be expected, really…
“The council has agreed to further the investigations without the need of imprisonment, so long as you stay confined to your place for the time being,” he went on, as two Fists joined his side, carrying your belongings. “With two guards stationed outside at all times.”
“Essentially treating us like criminals, then,” Astarion scoffed, clearly put out.
“You are suspected of being criminals,” Wyll pointed out. “I am quite certain it will only be for a couple of days, so do not fret.”
It seemed like a fair deal and, at this point, you would give anything to get out of this prison.
“Wait – hold on. What do you mean ‘your place’?”
Wyll glared at him in confusion. “Aren't you staying with the rest of the group?”
“No?” He pulled out a face of disgust as if Wyll had just implied he had been offered to share an accommodation with a pack of stinky gnolls.
“I did invite him – more than once.” 
“And I declined every single time.”
You rolled your eyes.
As much as you had earlier wished to part ways with Astarion after that heated argument, you were more than willing to move past that for the greater good.
“Well, now would be an opportune time to accept the invitation,” Wyll said, motioning for the guards to unlock the door. “You will be escorted back to your place and await further instructions.”
Grabbing your belongings, you hurried past the door to walk alongside Wyll while both guards flanked you.
“What about my clothes? I need a couple of changes, then,” Astarion inquired as he expertly fastened the dagger holsters around his thigh and waist. “I'm staying at The Blushing Mermaid.”
He did have an interesting set of priorities, given the current predicament…
“We will have someone fetch it for you.”
“Ask for a woman named Ava. She will know what to pack.”
Wyll nodded in silence.
You nearly scoffed, but managed to disguise it as a throaty cough, which earned Wyll's attention.
“I'm afraid these dungeons are riddled with dust and present less than ideal conditions, my friend.”
You cleared your throat with a faint remorseful smile, already feeling guilty for your deception.
The torch-lit tunnel extended as far as the eye could see, and it seemed like forever before you finally made it topside.
The barracks were buzzing with whispers and intense glares, with each Flaming Fist saluting the Grand Duke as he made his way through the building.
A quick glance through the window and you realised the sun had already set.
Convenient for Astarion.
Wyll's feet came to a halt before the closed shut and sturdy double door.
“I am terribly sorry that we had to meet again under such grim circumstances, but I trust this matter will be resolved soon.”
You gave him a warm smile of gratitude. “Thank you for this, Wyll. I'm sure you were met with resistance.”
He chuckled. “Quite the resistance, but I believe being power-hungry does hold its advantages, right, Astarion?”
“I suppose.”
There was not a single part of Wyll that was power-hungry. He had earned the title and his position within Baldur's Gate elite. No one was more deserving of it.
“A ‘thank you’ would suffice, but I'm guessing that's as close to it as I'll get,” Wyll said in amusement as Astarion frowned. 
You gave him a fleeting hug, earning some disapproving glares – including from Astarion.
“Thank you, Wyll.”
“You are most welcome. We'll talk soon.”
Parting ways, you stepped into the night with both Flaming Fists following closely behind. 
“Well, I'm glad that's been dealt with.” You said in an attempt to break the layer of silence.
“Hardly. I'm merely hopping from one prison to another,” he muttered bitterly. “But I suppose it could be worse.”
As you hurried along the busy city streets, you noticed the inquisitive glares from passers-by. After all, being escorted by two guards often meant trouble.
“Come to think of it, this is entirely your fault.”
Your head snapped at him. “What?”
He nodded. “If you hadn't cast Sleep, we wouldn't be in this situation to begin with.”
You scolwed. “Seriously, Astarion? You were about to gut him open!”
“It would have been a better fate than what he actually deserved,” he bit back. “But that damned swirly pink spell drew too much attention.”
You shouldn't have been surprised that he was lashing out, but it still annoyed you to no end that he refused to acknowledge his part in this.
“You have some nerve to pin this on me when you were the one causing a ruckus.”
He was glaring at you like you'd just grown a third arm. “Remind me again who yelled out as they were casting a spell.”
“I didn't yell–”
One of the guards behind you cleared his throat, effectively silencing you.
Arguing with Astarion was about as pointless as fighting the sun from rising. He always had to have the final word.
You sighed. “This is pointless.”
“Agreed.”
As your house came into view, you began to make out a couple of figures by the door.
Gale and Shadowheart.
You heard Astarion immediately scoff once you were close enough. “Please be quiet.”
Gale frowned slightly. “What? I didn't utter a single word.”
“Oh, I know. I'm just practicing this line for the future.”
Shadowheart intervened before the wizard could. “Wyll informed us of what happened. Are you well?”
You nodded. “Within reason.”
She embraced you tightly. “I am sure this will all be resolved soon.”
“A very bizarre event, no doubt,” Gale said, patting your back affectionately. “This city is crawling with the most vile of creatures, indeed.”
The three of you made your way inside, and a dramatic cough was heard.
You turned to see Astarion standing by the doorway, and then it dawned on you that he would need a literal verbal invitation in order to walk in.
“Oh! Right… sorry… you may come in, Astarion.”
He didn't need to be told twice, taking careful steps at first just in case.
Upon concluding it was safe to continue, he made his way into the kitchen area, taking in his surroundings in silence.
Lae'zel was nowhere to be found, and you reckoned she might have gone out to hunt in the surrounding Baldurian woods. 
“Your belongings are upstairs, already,” Shadowheart informed him as she leaned against a wood pillar. “I wasn't sure how to make a vampire abode feel more homely in such short notice, so you'll have to excuse the lack of frivolous and decadent decoration.”
He waved a hand dismissively, heading towards the staircase. “No need to concern yourself with it, darling. I'm not staying for long.”
You watched him round the corner and disappear into the hall.
“Your room is to your left, Astarion,” you called after him.
His footsteps halted and you smiled in amusement.
“Ah – yes. I was merely taking a look,” he said, reappearing at the top of the staircase again with a disapproving look on his face. “I must say… awful and dull decoration. This has Gale written all over it.”
You reckoned having Astarion stay over would prove more of a challenge than you had initially anticipated. 
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Series Masterlist
Sharing a house with Astarion under such circumstances.... what could possibly go wrong 😌
Next chapter: Confrontation
I don't keep taglists, so feel free to subscribe to it on Ao3 to get alerts 🩷
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atiny-desire · 6 months
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Glitter and Gold
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Pairing: Yandere Dragon! Seonghwa × Reader Summary: You get sent away as a sacrifice to the dragon, but instead of being met by a fire-breathing dragon, you encounter a handsome man who seems too good to be true. Word count: 2.8k Disclaimer: I'm in no way condoning, justifying, encouraging nor promoting this kind of behavior. This is not supposed to represent Seonghwa in any way. Warning: Some kind of soulmate bond, yandere behavior, mention of murder.
A/N: Didn't post in a long time because I had literally zero inspiration, and on top of that Ghost from Call of Duty kind of had me in a chokehold (I wish). Anyway, here's a small oneshot and I hope some of you like it. :)
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You could feel it. The burning jealous stares that followed you as you walked through your village, they wanted to puncture your skin, burn it off with just their stare. It was mainly young women who looked at you like that, their beautiful faces were adorned by angry frowns. Normally it would have made you want to crawl into a hole and never come out again, but now your chest was swelling with pride your head held high as you felt an odd sensation of satisfaction. You were the chosen one, the one who would be sent to the dragon as an offering. A sacrifice, that's what you are, but it's an honor. Your sacrifice would be the reason why your village would be able to live in peace for another year. It was said that only the most dazzling beauties would be chosen worthy enough to be sent away.
And now the time has come, you were the chosen one. Not those girls who looked down on you throughout all of your life. You're not pretty enough, not smart enough, not charming enough, and most certainly not worthy of anything, not even the same air they breathed. That's what they had always told you. For the longest time, you were their personal punching bag, their outlet for all of their frustration and pressure that was laid upon their shoulders. This was over now.
Your departure was quick and almost anticlimactic, but you didn't mind it. You had no interest in getting emotional with people who had tormented you your entire life, although not everyone did it, everyone knew about it, yet no one did anything to intervene.
The first step outside felt like you had achieved true freedom, even if the sentence of being a sacrifice hung heavy over your head. You had thought about running away, but there was nowhere you could go. Your small village was located in a valley, surrounded by huge snow-capped mountains and vast forests which were the homes of dangerous wildlife. Now, a mountain inhabited by a dragon might not necessarily sound like the safer option, however, you had a reason to go there. It was also the reason why everyone was jealous of you.
It was an old tale, no one really knew if it was true, but everyone believed in it nonetheless. It was said that if you were chosen by the dragon as worthy enough to be kept alive, you'd spend the rest of your life living in wealth. That's why you decided to take your chances with the dragon, rather than just accept your certain death.
The euphoric feeling of being free from those damned people that had been tormenting you your whole life, and the determination of wanting to live a better life, kept the fear that wanted to envelop your heart at bay. No matter how much you might fear walking through the dark forest which never seemed to end, or the thought of what lived inside the mountain you were approaching, you would keep walking because you were desperate for a new life.
Your feeling of hope diminished quicker than you would like. After almost four hours of foot walk you stood in front of the beginning of the mountain trail that would lead toward the cave. The muscles in your thighs were burning as well as your feet, you weren't used to walking this long without a break but you had forced your body through this ordeal, you didn't care how much it hurt. Your heart was in your throat and not just from physical activity, but from anxiety too. Understandably, who wouldn't be afraid of the outlook of meeting a fire-breathing dragon?
As soon as you set foot on that trail it felt like an invisible barrier sucked out all of the energy that was left in your body. Your legs suddenly felt like jelly, ready to give up from underneath you at any given second, but once again, you forced yourself through it.
Faster than you'd like you stood in front of the massive cave. Your mouth was opened in awe as you stopped in your tracks. Mountains of gold coins, gems, and glittery jewelry filled the cave as far as you could see. A small path between the huge piles leads deeper into the cave. Carefully you followed the small path, you were tempted to reach for the jewelry, or the gems that glittered in various colors between the gold coins, but you kept your hands to yourself. If there was truly a dragon living in this cave, it certainly wouldn't be very pleased should you touch any of its treasures.
As you walked deeper into the cave, your anxiety rose within you. Every corner was filled with treasures, there was barely any walking space. You started to doubt the dragon's existence, after all, how could it live with such minimal space?
Steps echoed off of the walls from deeper within the cave, steps that weren't your own. You froze in your tracks, straining your ears to pick up on any more sounds that might follow. Your body refused to move, even when you saw the silhouette of a human coming out of the dark. The sunlight from outside provided minimal lighting, but enough to illuminate the man who stepped in front of you.
You held your breath, you knew immediately that he was different from you. Small patches of red scales covered him in some places instead of skin, but eventually, they merged with his normal skin. The man came to a halt shortly in front of you and stared into your eyes. Unnerved by his stare and the serious look on his face you shifted your weight on your legs and inched a little away from him.
His eyes wandered over your face and down your body, his gaze was analyzing and cold until something suddenly shifted in him and his eyes seemingly softened. Even a small smile stretched on his face. "You can breathe, you don't have to hold it just because of me." He almost had a teasing tone as he spoke to you.
You let out the air you were holding in your lungs. It was as if your body was reacting to his smooth voice because your tense muscles relaxed a little as soon as he spoke to you. "You're not a dragon." You blurted out.
You managed to draw a low chuckle and a headshake from him. "Oh trust me, I am." His hand reached out to grab your chin before you could flinch away he had caught your face between his fingers and forced you to properly look at him. "Beautiful." He mumbled while he turned your head from side to side, so he could examine your face from every angle.
"That's a little too much touching for a first meeting, don't you think?" You mumbled quietly and pulled your head back as you became flustered. While you talked you couldn't look away from him, his eyes were mesmerizing. They were golden, almost seemed like they were glowing, and the color in his irises swirled like liquid gold.
He let go of your face, but not without a dissatisfied grumble. "Is it? But you're a sacrifice to me, are you not? You belong to me now."
His brazenness left you speechless for a short moment, but you didn't need to say anything anyway because he took the word again. "Don't worry, I'm just messing with you." He said with a smirk on his lips. However, with how serious he said it, you doubted that he was just messing with you.
"I... what are you?" This question has been burning on your tongue since you first spotted the scales on his body.
"Asking the important questions right from the beginning, hm?" His hand came up to his face to brush away a strand of his black hair that had fallen into his eyes when he leaned closer to inspect your face. "As I said, I'm a dragon. I might not look like one right now, but in my true form I'm indeed a dragon." He motioned down his body and continued, "This human body is just a costume. I learned that it's less intimidating for mortals like you, and honestly, it's way more practical too."
"Do you have a name? How old are you, and how does this whole dragon thing work?" The questions spilled from your mouth like a waterfall once you realized that he wouldn't be a threat, at least for the moment, and your body relaxed.
Another chuckle with his smooth voice reached your ear. "Curious little thing aren't you? You can call me Seonghwa. My age?" He shrugged his shoulders, looked away from you for a second, and fixated his gaze back on you shortly after. "I stopped counting the years, and as for how my nature works, how about we talk about this at a different time? I don't want to overwork your pretty head."
You couldn't help but feel a little offended. He made it seem like you were too stupid to comprehend what he would tell you. "Fine. Where are the other girls that got sent here?"
"Other girls?" He seemed bored just thinking about it, his brows furrowed, he looked like he had to remember what you were talking about. As if there weren't any girls sent to him, every year for multiple centuries. "I killed them." He finally answered.
Your breath got caught in your throat, fear started to claw at your heart once again. So, was this going to be your end? The scaled man in front of you chuckled when he saw the fear in your eyes. "Don't you worry, my precious little gem." Seonghwa's hand reached out again to get a hold of your chin, his thumb brushed over your lips, and his eyes followed his own movement. "You're the one I've been waiting for."
"The one you've been waiting for?" You asked a bit unsure. You didn't know if you had to fear for your life or not.
He nodded. "You're destined to be with me, you, a mere human don't feel it of course." He paused and you almost flinched away when he suddenly put his hand over your chest exactly where your heart was located. "But your heart. It only beats for one purpose, and that is to belong to me. It's beating in a specific rhythm, almost as if it's calling out to me."
You swallowed down your fear, or at least you tried to, and replied to him with a hint of doubt in your voice. "A specific rhythm? Doesn't every heart beat in the same way?"
You could swear that he rolled his eyes a little, but he quickly overplayed it with his charming smile. "You don't get it. As I said, you're just a human." He put his hand under your chin and grabbed you with his thumb and his index finger to tilt your head up. "You're the one I've waited for, everything else is meaningless now. Don't worry your pretty little head about it."
"Stop calling me pretty."
"Why? It's the truth after all." Seonghwa leaned closer, getting into your personal space more than before, to the point you could feel his warm breath fan over your face. You panicked a little when he didn't stop crossing the distance between you two, you were sure he would try to kiss you. You were about to pull away when he did something against your expectations.
Instead of kissing you, he pressed his forehead against yours and his hand came up to cup your cheek, you felt his thumb brush over your skin, gently, almost as gently as a feather, it felt like you were just imagining his touch. "Don't worry," he murmured. His breath smelt like the smoke of a forest fire but somehow it wasn't unpleasant. "I waited so long for you, I can also wait until you're ready to fully be with me." The words he spoke were nothing but a mere whisper. "I can wait," He repeated a bit more firmly to make sure that you heard him properly.
He moved his head away from your face and more to the side so he could whisper in your ear. "I'll wait until I can kiss you until I can explore every inch of your body," Seonghwa took a small break, his eyes glinting with mischievous as he added, "Until you're willing to let me claim you, in every possible way."
Seonghwa gently brushed your hair back before his hand landed on the side of your neck with his thumb caressing your cheek. He brought his face closer to yours again, your eyes widened and you were about to pull back however, he was faster than you again because he stopped shortly before his lips would touch yours. You felt his warm breath on your lips, it distracted you to the point you almost missed the words he whispered to you. "My desire to kiss you is overwhelmingly big."
"Don't-," Seonghwa shushed you before you could protest any further. Another chuckle resonated from deep within his chest. "Don't worry, I won't. I told you, didn't I? I will wait until you want me as much as I want you." He distanced himself a bit from you, a lazy half smile tugged at the right corner of his mouth. "But when that time comes I might make you beg for my touch." It seemed like he wanted to make a joke, but you had a feeling that he was dead serious.
With a sigh, he moved away from you, this time he really left your personal space. Seonghwa held his hand out to you, waiting for you to grab it. "You've asked enough questions for now, don't you think? It's time you see where you will live with me." You were too busy staring at him in awe, so you didn't catch the words he muttered under his breath. "For eternity."
The way he stood, with his posture being flawless, as well as his perfect face and the gentle smile on his lips, you could have thought that he was royalty, if it wasn't for the red scales embedded into his skin. Maybe he was royalty, some kind of dragon royalty if it even exists. You thought to yourself as you took his hand.
Together with you, he started to walk deeper into the darker part of the cave. He seemed to navigate in the darkness just fine, while you were stumbling after him like a newborn foal, with just his hand as your guide. Eventually, a small source of light fell into your eyes, and as you walked closer you realized that the light were torches attached to the cave walls. Seonghwa stopped in front of two ridiculously big oak wood doors. You and to crane your neck to be able to see where they ended.
How would those doors even open? "How-" And again, Seonghwa didn't let you finish your sentence. He let go of your hand walked up to the door, and pushed one of them open with ease. "I might have a human body right now, but I still have the strength of a Dragon. Now come." He nodded toward the inside, silently telling you to go in.
Those huge doors made you a little nervous, inside your head, you were imagining what would happen if the door suddenly closed while you were walking through it. Swiftly you scurried inside and Seonghwa followed with a smile. A loud noise echoed through the room as the door fell closed behind him. You were surprised to see a fully furnished living room. Everything was illuminated by torches attached to the wall, allowing you to see the extravagant furniture.
"You like it?" Seonghwa quietly asked you close to your ear.
You only gave him a small nod as you continued to look around the room. There were more cave tunnels, leading away from the living room probably to more living space, such as a bedroom. "I'm glad. You'll be spending a lot of time here." He was still close to your ear and whispered to you while he stood behind you.
While you looked around your gaze traveled to the, now closed, oak doors. You didn't think about it at the time, but you were trapped now. There was no way you would ever be able to push these doors open on your own. Your breath hitched when Seonghwa suddenly wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you against his body. "A lot of time." He growled into your ear. In this moment you realized that it wasn't just something he said without real meaning. It was a promise and a threat at the same time. However, you realized it too late, you were already in the claws of this dragon and he sure as hell would never be willing to ever let you go again.
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pinchofhoney · 11 months
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Hi, could you write something for Coryo x reader were the reader is close if not equally as evil in the end. How would that relationship work? idk just a thought I had use it if you wish
crack in the mirror
coriolanus snow x fem!reader
word count: 1.8k
warning: i think none
summary: Many cling to the belief of their own goodness, until they meet someone who's just like them.
a/n: hii, thank you so much for your request!! i hope you'll enjoy what i've written for you!<33
pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for
taglist: @watercolorskyy
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gif is not mine, credit to the owner
How did it all begin?
With the 10th Hunger Games, where your academic excellence earned you the role of mentor to one of the tributes.
It was a time of innocence and youthful ambition, back when your paths met within the shadowy corridors of the Capitol's Academy. You and Coriolanus were close friends, unstained by the cruelty that life had in store for you and you pretty often looked back on those days, memories of laughter, shared dreams, and an unwavering friendship etched in your mind.
The two of you were bound by a shared ambition, shining among the brightest stars, each destined for greatness in the eyes of those who believed in you. The world was your playground, and you were determined to conquer it. Little did you know how that fateful year, with its trials and tribulations, would set the course of your life on a much darker path.
As the mentor to Treech from District 7, you hadn't yet embraced the darkness that would soon consume you. Back then, you were as eager as your colleagues, hoping to prove your worth, do your best, and guide your tribute to victory. It was pretty cruel twist of fate that Lucy Gray Baird, with her haunting charm and cunning nature, would change the course of everything.
In the heart of those unforgettable 10th Hunger Games, within the unforgiving arena, your dreams and aspirations slowly began to twist and corrode. Ambition transformed into ruthless manipulation, friendship into subtle deception, and innocence into a devouring thirst for power. The venomous snake mutt that took Treech's life before your very eyes became a symbol of the ruthless transformation that was gradually overtaking you.
That year marked the beginning of your involvement in the Games and the emergence of a darkness that would one day reflect the very core of President Snow himself. The metropolis watched, captivated by the spectacle of the tributes battling for their lives, while behind the scenes, a bitter change took root.
As you stood alongside the other students in the viewing room, preoccupied with the tributes, a chill ran down your spine. You didn't yet grasped the feeling, but something fundamental had shifted within you. You couldn't shake the realization that in the Capitol, victory meant survival, and survival allowed for anything. Lucy Gray's actions, no matter how brutal, were merely a reflection of the society to which you belonged.
Coriolanus tried to hold onto the purity of your friendship, to keep the darkness at bay, but you were the values he progressively ignored. Ambition has a way of distorting even the best intentions, and the path you had chosen was covered in shadows and secrecy.
As the Games progressed, the transformation hastened. The bonds you had formed with others became instruments of manipulation, and you enjoyed your newfound ability to bend their will to your desires.
The suffering of each tribute, each extinguished life, stoked the icy flames of ambition within you. You clutched to the logic that to climb up the Capitol's hierarchy, you had to be willing to destroy all who stood in the way. Your heart grew cold, your smile more deceitful, and your soul darkened, much like the future President of Panem that Coriolanus didn't yet realize he would become.
The Games ended with Treech taking the third place, a result you considered an absolute failure. It served as the catalyst for your final descent into the abyss. You had only tasted a little bit of success, and you hungered for more. The purity of your friendship with Coriolanus had been definitely tarnished, and the darkness that enveloped you continued.
The 10th Hunger Games and the Gamemakers marked not just the beginning of a change within you, but also foreshadowed the dark days to come.
You and Coriolanus would be leaders of a world where cruelty and manipulation held authority.
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You had come a long way since those innocent days at the Academy, where laughter and shared dreams were the currency of friendship. As the Head Gamemaker, you wielded power over life and death, orchestrating the annual Hunger Games spectacle that captivated the Capitol.
Your importance in the Capitol was undeniable, but the bonds of friendship that once connected you to young Snow had weakened, stretched to their limits, and threatened to break. Since your graduation from the Academy, the warmth of your interactions had been replaced by a chilling formality. The echoes of your former closeness had grown faint, drowned out by the sounds of the ruthless Games you helped design.
Coriolanus, still crawling in his presidency, remained in your life as a hint of your teenage years and shared mentorship past. He was both intrigued and disturbed by the ideas you injected into the Games each year, but he never consciously acknowledged the rot that had taken root within him as well.
As the Head Gamemaker, you reveled in the dark art of power, where tributes became pawns and suffering was blend into the very fabric of the arena. Your ambitions had propelled you to the highest echelons of Capitol society, but the biggest cost had been the destruction of the humanity that once defined you.
Determined, you made your way to the meeting room, eager to introduce Coriolanus to your plan for the 23rd Hunger Games.
He was already there, wearing an expression that mixed curiosity with apprehension. You greeted him with a cool nod, fully aware of how your interactions had grown more formal over the years.
“Coryo,” you began, saying the familiar diminutive you'd used back at the Academy. The warmth of that old friendship may have cooled, but the nickname had grown in you, a habit you couldn't shake when you were alone with him. “I've prepared something truly phenomenal for this year's Games. Something that will cause goosebumps on the skin of every viewer, let alone the tributes in the arena,” you said, locking your gaze with your old friend with a mysterious smirk on your lips.
In response, Coriolanus leaned in with growing curiosity. “Please, continue,” he urged, which only caused a wider smile on your face.
You gestured toward a holographic projection on the wall, revealing a sinister, genetically created creature. Its elongated limbs, razor-sharp claws, and grotesque, misshapen features created a nightmarish creation.
“This,” you declared, “is the Umbra Noctis. It's a creature designed to terrify and torture the tributes in ways they could never have imagined. With its ability to blend into the shadows, it will stalk them relentlessly, striking fear into their hearts.”
Coriolanus observed the creature, a mixture of fascination and consternation in his eyes, narrowing the gap between you. “But how does it differ from the mutts we've used before?”
You leaned in, your voice dropping to a chilling whisper. “It carries a venom that induces hallucinations, distorting reality for its victims. The terror it inflicts will be as much psychological as it is physical.”
As you detailed your plan, the room seemed to grow colder, and the weight of your shared darkness pressed on Coriolanus. You described the various mutants and horrors destined for the arena, all designed to heighten the tributes' fear and despair.
“I want the 23rd Hunger Games to be remembered as the most nightmarish ever,” you declared. “A spectacle that reveals the true depths of human darkness, concealed behind the Capitol's glittering facade.”
As the weight of your words settled in the room, Coriolanus’ initial curiosity gave way to a growing skepticism. He couldn't help but question the depths of darkness you were willing to immerse.
“Isn't this,” Coriolanus began, his voice cautious, “perhaps too much, even for the Hunger Games? We want to entertain, to captivate the audience, not to... terrify to the point of despair.”
You turned to him, your gaze firm, and for a moment, the professional mask slipped, revealing the abyss beneath. “Coryo, don't you see? The Capitol's fascination with the Games is not just about entertainment. It's about the harsh reality that we, as a society, have become as ruthless and depraved as the Games themselves. We are a reflection of the horrors we create.”
Coriolanus eyed you, his features a blend of recognition and disquiet. Your words had hit the spot, reminding him that he, too, played a role in Panem's transformation as its president.
You continued, your voice now nearly a whisper, “The darkness, Coryo, is not just within the arena but within us. The Games merely show what has always been there. It's a reflection of who we've become, and it's time we faced that truth.”
For a brief moment, Coriolanus seemed to confront his own rottenness, an unsettling truth that had long been concealed in the shadows of his conscience and the room fell silent.
With measured steps, you circled around Coriolanus, stopping in front of him. You met his calm gaze, finding in it the shadow of chaos, reflecting his soul.
Your eyes wandered over his attire, and with a calculated, gentle touch, you adjusted the rose on his chest before gracing him with a faint smile.
“Look at you,” you began, taking a step back, creating a clear distance between you. “Remember when you used to fear Dr. Gaul? And now, what have you become?” your next question followed swiftly, with no pause for his response.
“You're the man who sends innocent kids to their deaths every year, a cruel reminder to the districts of who hold the power, who is in control. And I? I'm just one of the instruments in your hands.”
Your words hung in the air, and as Coriolanus opened his mouth to respond, you silenced him with an unspoken urgency. “You might tell yourself that you can sleep soundly, shifting the responsibility onto me and my team, washing your hands clean of the blood. But deep down, you know it's a lie, don't you?”
Coriolanus met your gaze, a blend of defiance and self-denial in his eyes. He had always been skilled at pushing the truth aside, shielding himself from the reality he had become.
“You're mistaken,” he finally said, his voice tensed. “I have a duty to maintain order, to ensure the Capitol's dominance. The Games are a means to an end, a necessary evil.”
Your expression remained unwavering as you countered, “But do you truly believe that, Coryo? Do you truly believe it's as simple as maintaining order? The depths of cruelty we've reached, the horrors we've unleashed, they go beyond mere necessity.”
He opened his mouth to respond, to argue his case further, but a hint of doubt flickered in his eyes, betraying the internal struggle within. The truth you had spoken, the darkness he had tried to repress, clawed at the edges of his conscience.
“That's what I thought,” you said with a note of satisfaction in your eyes, and resumed presenting your plan as if nothing had happened, not paying attention to Coriolanus' confusion. However, the shift in the room's atmosphere was palpable, and the unspoken tension lingered.
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user00003123 · 1 year
Text
NOW LIVE: BUILDING A BOND feat. t. fushiguro
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SUMMARY: when your parents get you a job as a psychologist at the prison, you don't expect to take such an interest in one of the inmates.
CONTENT WARNINGS: inmate! toji! x psychologist! fem! reader, smut, mdni, modern prison au, dom/sub dynamics, dirty talk, clit play, fingering, finger sucking, nipple sucking, slight choking, toji is kind of degrading, oral (f. & m. receiving), p in v, cow girl, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), panty stealing, nicknames (Doc, slut, dirty girl, nasty girl, good girl) wc: 4,117
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"I'm sorry—what?"
"Look sweetie, you said it yourself. You went to school so that you could help people, and what's more helpful than being a psychologist for the prison, hm?" your mother sat next to you on the couch one arm around your shoulders and the other holding your hand.
"Your mother is right sweetie, this has been your dream since you were a little girl," your father speaks up from his desk.
"Working at a prison was not my dream," your arms are folded across your chest. "When I got my degree, I was thinking more of a cute office where I talk to children and teens to help them. Not grown men who did who knows what to get themselves in a prison," you slightly yell getting off the couch and standing in front of your father's desk.
"I get it sweetie, but if I didn't think you were the right one for this position, I wouldn't have volunteered you," your father gets up from his desk and walks over to you. He places his hands on both your shoulders, sighing, "You are the smartest, most compassionate young woman I've ever met. I know it's not the job you wanted, but maybe it's the job you needed."
Maybe he was right, I mean these men weren't emotionally stable and it could benefit them to talk to you.
The next day you were dressed in a black pantsuit with black flats, making sure to not have any flashy jewelry on. When arriving you had to go through extensive security, to make sure you didn't have any contraband, or anything harmful that could be used against you.
"You're the new psychologist aren't you?" A tall man with white hair asks you as you're leaving the security office. He was also dressed in all black, but with a vest that had police stitched on it in white.
"What gave it away?" you ask with a raised eyebrow. He tilts his head eyeing your outfit.
"You're cheerful being here," he laughs, hands now on the vest with the many pockets, and you notice the gun on his hip.
"I'm just trying to be hopeful that I can help these men in some way," you say running your hands down your shirt.
"I admire that, hope is not something that people have in here. Maybe you'll change that," you give him a small smile. "I'm Gojo, by the way. I'll be your security guard for the day."
"Just the day?" you follow him down a long hallway.
"Like me already?" you roll your eyes with a light laugh. "I'm messing with ya' sweetheart. Each day every guard has a different place we'll be in the prison. Mine is sadly guarding solitary the next couple days."
You hum in response and continue to follow him until you're in the medical bay. You meet the nurses, desk attendants, and other guards before Gojo takes you to your office. You give him a thanks as you put you're bag down looking around the room.
Empty white walls, a two-person cream-colored sofa, and a white desk with a matching chair. Very bland, but anything else added and it could've been used against you. Sitting at the desk you start to take a look at the files of the patients who would be visiting you. Some have a tragic back story, other don't, and you started to feel a bit overwhelmed. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you calmed yourself down just as a knock was heard on the door.
"Come in!" Gojo comes in with a long black-haired inmate who has an unidentifiable expression on his face.
"Cuffs on or off?" Gojo questions. You think on it for a second then tell him off. Letting the inmates not have their cuffs on shows you have some type of trust in them and helps build the bond for them to trust you.
"Behave yourself, Geto," Gojo starts to walk out of the office before turning to you again. "Remember, just yell or push the panic button and I'll come right in."
"Thanks," you smile at him before motioning for Geto to have a seat on your couch. He does and the two of you talk, he opens up quite a bit about how he feels about him being in here and why he's even in here in the first place. It's a great start to your day and every patient after Geto is pretty up or down. Either they wanna talk or they give you a hard time, but it's only the first day.
Your last patient comes in while you're fixing all the files on your desk, clearing his throat to let you know of his presence. You're eyes trailed up his body, black uniform pants, black wife-beater, his big beefy arms decorated in black ink, and a cocky little smirk plastered on his face. You look down at your schedule to see his name and you give him a smile then tell Gojo it's okay to take off his cuffs.
"You sure sweetheart, I'm a dangerous man," his eyes are staring right into yours, his smirk never leaving his face. Gojo leaves when you give him a nod and you gesture to the sofa for the new patient to sit down.
"Is that how you see yourself, Toji? Dangerous?" He leans his body back relaxing into the seat with a sigh.
"Of course, I do, Doc. I've hurt people, had blood on my hands. I know I'm dangerous," his eyes are watching you as you write down in your notes, before looking at him again.
"Are you proud of that?" you question tilting your head.
He puts a finger on his chin like he was thinking before letting out a laugh, "I am actually." Standing up from the sofa, he walks over to where you're sitting, leaning over you and the desk, "I did what I had to do to protect the ones I love. I had my reasons."
Before you could even respond, he was walking out the door, "Thanks for the session, Doc."
Re-reading Toji's file, you notice that it says he has a son and a daughter and was married before the incident. Your heart sinks thinking about how his kids must feel not having their father, even more so how Toji must feel not being able to be with his kids. He's right, he has his reasons for doing what he did, even as violent as it was, it was for the people he cared about.
The next few days Toji didn't show back up to the office, and honestly, you were worried about him. That Thursday when Gojo was your security guard again you ask him about Toji.
"He seems angrier than normal, and he hasn't said a word since he left your office on Monday,"  you were looking around the yard, spectating how the inmates engaged with one another or just with themselves. You saw Toji lifting weights in the corner of the yard, he was by himself, no one daring to come up and intrude. "Don't dwell too much, he'll come talk to you when the time is right. Just like the rest of these men."
The next day you go through your appointments, some of your patients opening up more than when you first meet them, making sure you tell each of them that you're proud of the progress they're making. You started to pack up for the weekend when it was time for Toji's appointment, knowing he wasn't coming, until a knock at your door startles you.
"Come in!" Toji walks through the door, head high, and another smirk on his face as Gojo walks in behind him, hands holding Toji's cuffed ones behind his back.
"He asked me to bring him." You smile lightly then gesture for Gojo to take off the cuffs before he leaves your office. Toji sits down on the sofa while you lean on your desk, giving him your full attention. Your eyes wandered on his body, seeing a few red marks and some sweat.
"My eyes are up here, sweetheart," you laugh slightly embarrassed, eyes staring right into his.
"I heard you don't work weekends, so I wanted to come talk to you before you left."
"Of course. What is it you would like to talk about?" you ask hand clasped in your lap.
"I want to apologize for my actions on Monday. I am not the talking type and never really have been, probably why my marriages haven't worked out." He whispered the last part, and you jotted that down in your head. "You were just doing your job and I don't need to make it any harder."
"I appreciate you apologizing Toji but know you didn't have to. I don't understand what's it like to be here, but I know that this environment isn't the best one to make you feel like you want to open up about your feelings," you smile and it warms his heart. "You don't have to come every day if it feels like too much for you. We can start at whatever pace it is you want if you even want to come to talk to me."
"Thanks, Doc, and I'm fine with meeting every day. I'm hoping that talking to you will help me get on parol so I can see my kids." He's being sincere and you admire that.
"As long as you make me believe that you've learned your lesson about being in here, I will get you parol, Toji," you give him a genuine smile and he returns it.
"I want to be a better man, for my kids," and for the next couple weeks, he saw you every day. During the first two weeks, he was still having a hard time being completely honest about his feelings, telling you small details about how he ended up here, or about his childhood. You didn't push him though, you didn't push any of your patients. Building trust with them is about letting them learn to trust you at their own pace, letting them open up at their speed, and as long as you give them the time to open up, your job will be easier.
Around the second month of Toji coming in every day, he felt himself become so intrigued with you. Whenever you weren't around, you were all he could think about, your eyes that drew him in whenever he looked at them too long, your legs that he couldn't stop thinking about wrapping around his waist as he pounded into you, and your pretty full lips that he imagines is his hand when fisting his cock late at night in his cell.
It would be a lie if you said you didn't think about him that way either. How could you not? Always having his big beefy biceps on display when he wore a wife beater. His uniform pants hung low on his hips and as soon as he sat down they were tight and you could see the print of dick against his thigh.
You always sat behind your desk when you met with your patients, so it was no different when it came to Toji, which made it easier to hide the fact that you were clenching your thighs together to release the tension you felt between your legs. Then one day as you were about to sit down at your desk Toji asks if you would sit next to him instead.
"I don't think it's appropriate to be so close to one of my patients," you smile and you could see a small pout on his face.
"Don't you want your patients to feel comfortable and feel you are building a bond with them?" He tilts his head and you laugh, knowing what he's doing. You grab your notebook and pen and sit at the other end of the couch, crossing one leg over the other. He smiles at you and places both his hands in his lap, hinting he won't try anything.
"We haven't gotten into your past relationships. Would you like to talk about your ex-wives or anyone you've been involved with?"
"Like people I've fucked?" he smirks and you shake your head looking down at your notepad.
"If that has anything to do with the person you are today or why you ended up here then sure."
"Sure it does, I mean how else would I have gotten two kids in this world without fucking some pretty girls," you rolled your eyes. "You have any kids, Doc?"
"No, I don't."
"Why not?" he questions.
"Toji, we're here to talk about you—”
"We're building a bond," your body leans back on the sofa letting out a sigh.
"I'm just not the motherly type," you tap your pen lightly against the notepad.
"So you just have casual sex then, nothing serious?" you can see the small smirk on his face.
"What does my sex life have to do with you?" you put your pen down and look at him.
"I'm just curious, Doc, wanna get to know you," he's grinning, trying to get in your head.
You raise your eyebrow, "Asking me about sex is getting to know me?" All he does is nod his head and you roll your eyes mumbling a 'fine.'
You turn your body towards him still leaning against the couch with your legs crossed, "Yes, I just have casual sex."
"Is it.....good?"
You laughed a little at the question, "I mean sometimes it is, other times not so much."
"What's the kind of sex you like?" his lip was between his teeth, he's just curious.
You tapped your chin with your finger in thought, "I don't know, I like it all." You looked at Toji, eyes scanning over his muscular arms, then down to his pants where you could see him getting hard. "Most of the time, sex just depends on the mood that's set."
"So what's the mood that's set right now?" your eyes widened at how forward the question was, clearing your throat as you looked away from him.
"Toji—"
"You know you want to, Doc," he slides his hand from off his lap and onto your leg. He was running his fingers back and forth on your smooth skin, your body felt hot and a shock of electricity ran up your back. You knew this was wrong, so so wrong, but it just felt so right.
He leaned his bigger body closer to yours, lips ghosting right over the shell of your ear as his hand pushed off your notepad and pen, making its way under your tight pencil skirt and rubbing his fingers over your panties, "Such a dirty girl getting all wet for an inmate."
You did feel dirty, about to fuck your patient in your office of a prison, it was disgusting, but your pussy has never been wetter at the thought. You turned his head towards you bringing him into a heated kiss. His tongue was exploring your mouth as his fingers were sliding your panties over to rub circles on your clit. Moaning in his mouth, he smirked against your lips, "Lemme eat your pussy, Doc."
He stood up from the couch, fingers still massaging your clit as his lips are still entangled with yours. A string of saliva connects your lips as he bends down in front of you, both hands grabbing your thighs and spreading them apart. He can see a wet spot on your panties, and swipes his tongue across the spot, briefly tasting your bitter juice and letting out a moan, "Didn't think I'd miss eating pussy, but God I did."
He pulls your panties down and off your legs making sure to slide them in his pockets, then uses two fingers to spread your folds apart, exposing your glossy pussy to the cold air in your office, "You have such a pretty pussy, Doc."
Letting out a needy whine when you feel his breath against your cunt, it causes your aching hole to clench around nothing, Toji's eyes widened at the sight, "Toji... please just eat my pussy!"
He smirks at your whining, leaning his head down to kiss your clit, "Your such a nasty girl..." His tongue slid down your folds, breathing in your scent, "acting like a slut for an inmate." Your head is leaned back against the couch, moaning at the contact from his warm tongue. His tongue is circling your clit before he's closing his lips around it, sucking the nub into his mouth.
"Mmm—Toji!" your moans are music to his ears as your thighs are squeezing around his head. He's so messy, practically making out with your pussy, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs, "Mouth feels....so good." Your fingers are tangled in his black hair, as your rutting against his face, and he's moaning at your taste.
He slides one hand up your body, tapping his fingers on your lips, and you open your mouth allowing two of his thick digits to sit on your tongue as you suck on them, "You gotta be quiet dirty girl, don't want us to get caught, huh?" You nod your head, legs lightly shaking around his head, as he continues to lap at your messy cunt.
Your clit feels tingly as you feel a hot feeling of pleasure bubbling in your lower stomach, your toes are curling, and Toji's name is rolling off your tongue like a song. He laughs lowly, the vibration sending a shock up your spine, "Aw, Doc, you gonna cum already?"
His eyes are looking right into yours as you nod your head frantically, still sucking on his fingers. Your roll your hips into his face, chasing your orgasm, fingers gripping onto his hair, and right as he starts flicking his tongue against your clit once more, your legs are shutting around his head as your back arches off the couch, "Fuck, fuck—Toji I'm cumming!" He continues to slurp at your cunt, getting you through your orgasm, hand rubbing your thigh soothingly.
"God, your pussy tastes so good," he smiles wide as he's licking his lips, and removes his fingers from your mouth. You steady your breathing as you open your eyes seeing his dopey grin.
"You know for you to have been in here for 5 years, you're good at eating pussy," you laugh sitting up on the couch, then bring him into a slow sloppy kiss, letting your hand trail down and rub against the bulge that was in his pants.
"I don't have time for teasing, sweetheart, I'm already on edge from eating your pussy," he groans against your lips.
"Then stand up," he was quick to stand to his feet, your eyes looking right up at him as your sat on the couch. You kiss against this clothed bulge, fanning your breath over it and his head is leaning back.
"Fuck, Doc, just take it out," your hands are pulling down his pants just past his balls, eyes widening at the size of his cock.
"So big," you moan licking the underside of his cock and your eyes are watching his expressions. His lip between his teeth, eyes screwed shut, and his big hand holding the back of your neck. Parting your lips letting just his tip past your lips, tasting the salty pre-cum that was leaking. You swirl your tongue around his tip, then widen your mouth to take more of his length while a hand fondles his balls.
Bobbing your head taking most of his fat cock, he's groaning and bucking his hips into your mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat making you gag, "Yeah, gag on my cock, Doc." He's watching you with dark, hungry eyes, as breathy, deep moans slip past his lips, he's struggling to keep himself quiet, "Such a good girl, with a filthy mouth."
You moan at his dirty talk, fingers massaging his warm squishy balls, as you relax your mouth deep throating him as best you could. He squeezed the back of your neck pulling you off his cock then leaned down to kiss you, shoving his tongue in your mouth, "Feel like a fucking virgin 'bout to cum in 2 seconds."
Spitting on his fingers, he rubs your clit, then stuffs two of his fingers in your wet hole, you instantly spread your legs, and moan against his lips, "Tell me how you want me to fuck you, Doc."
"I don't know—mmm—just put it inside me," he's kissing you again before a hand wraps around your neck and he's whispering in your ear.
"Ride this dick," he pulls his fingers out of your soaking cunt, you rise to your feet quickly, switching places with him so he's now sat on the couch. He grabs each of your thighs placing them on the sides of his so you're straddling him, hands on your hips as yours are around his neck.
He guides you down on his length, both of you moaning feeling the stretch, "Fuck, pussy's so tight." Once you're fully sat on Toji's thighs, he doesn't rush you, letting you get used to him, kissing on your neck, then sliding up your sweater to expose your boobs, sucking on one of your nipples.
Your rise your hips until it's just his tip that's in you before sliding back down, taking him fully again. You keep the slow pace of riding him, as his hands are rubbing softly on your hips, lips still sucking on your hard nipple as you moan his name. "Toji feels soo good," you whine head leaning in the crook of his neck.
"How about you speed up for me?" you do as your told, lifting your hips again and then slamming them back down on his thighs. Your ass continues to slap against his thighs, the sound of how of wet you are filling the room. Toji moans in your ear about how wet your pussy is, you can't do anything besides moan his name, so intoxicated with the feeling of him filling you up.
Your legs were starting to give out, Toji could feel you slowing down, so he moved his hands under your ass slamming you down on his cock as he started to thrust up meeting you halfway. Kneading the flesh of your ass before smacking it, you let out a yelp clenching around his shaft and Toji's head fell back against the couch, "Fuck, Doc, pussy so good, you're gonna make me cum already."
He moves one hand to play with your puffy clit, and you moan loud in his ear, making him turn his head and capture your lips in a kiss, shushing you. You grind your hips into his fingers and within a minute your creaming all over his cock, squeezing him with your gummy walls, and he's coming right after you. Lifting you off of him and cumming on your stomach, with a loud moan of your name.
Your forehead is leaning against his as you both calm your breathing down before you're lifting off of him and heading to your desk to grab tissues to wipe off his cum. "For an inmate, your stamina ain't too bad," you laugh fixing your clothes.
"Well if we make this a regular thing, it could get better," he's pulling his pants back up, his eyes glued to you. Before you could respond there was a knock on the door, you both look at each other before he sat back down on the couch and you sitting at your desk.
"Come in!" you yell and Gojo walks in with a concerned look on his face.
"Everything okay? You guys took longer than normal?" Gojo questions arms crossed against this chest.
"Yeah, I was just crying about my past," Toji pouts and Gojo scoffs.
"Yeah right," Gojo leans against the door frame.
"I was explaining to him about my past, and it got a little emotional," you explain. "Building a bond with my patients requires trust on both ends."
"Hm, makes sense," he walks over closer to Toji. "But I'm going to have to break up this bonding moment, all inmates need to be in their cells."
You nod in understanding, and Toji stands up, hands behind his back, so Gojo can put on the cuffs. "Same time tomorrow, Doc?" Toji looks towards his pocket where your pink panties are sticking out with a smirk.
Your eyes widen as you force a smile, "Same time tomorrow."
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©HANNSDIARY 2023 | all rights reserved. please don’t copy, steal, modify, or repost my work on other sites.
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arnaerr · 3 months
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Some more bits of Messmer lore that make me sad...the first part is here | part 3
Commander Gaius is Messmer's bestie...and we just kill him as everyone else in the Keep. Our character is literally the worst war criminal of them all huh
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AND he's an Albinauric who are basically one of the most oppressed groups of people in the game. Something something the bond between Gaius and Messmer starting from their mutual understanding of each other's situation
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In the previous post, there was this but about Messmer's red snakes being with him always. The base serpent is basically this creepy thing that is sealed behind Messmer's eye before his 2nd phase. It kinda seems to me that the red snakes sprouted from it and tore their way through their bodies but this Helm of Kood description makes me think about how exactly they were keeping the base serpent at bay 🤔 it's interesting. Are they born from the base serpent but are more...supportive of Messmer? Idk
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So like. Lots of items in the game mention that Messmer was sharing his flames with all of his soldiers which is kinda cool. What curious for me is that some of knights had troubles with accepting this fire? Like their bodies were rejecting it so they had to learn manually how to use this magic instead of having it more like a talent I guess. Maybe you have to be born touched by the curse to wield the fire effortlessly or something
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Queelign is Messmer's biggest fangirl. But it's interesting how loyal Messmer's warriors are.
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Ok this one AUGHH. So like. At first, the specimen storehouse creeped me out, but...maybe Messmer also acknowledges the consequences the war brings. So maybe he was aware that yeah they're destroying Hornsent civilization but may try to preserve some culture and scientific knowledge as well. Thus there's a big library too. I also love the fact that there's an infirmary in the Shadow Keep for treating the victims of living jars who are basically Marika's people from the Shaman village.
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This one can be interpreted that the people of the Shadow realm don't know much about what is going on in the Lands Between 🥲
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Imagine being born cursed with the base serpent and your closest servants turn against you once they notice that 😔👍👍👍
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invisible-lint · 4 months
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Everything Could Be Okay: Prologue
Andras x Reader
Summary: a prologue for what will be a Rhys x Tamlin's sister!reader
Warnings: angst! very brief mention of pregnancy loss
Word Count: 1,078
Chapter 1 Chapter 2
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You knew you were already too late. You could feel it in the ache of your legs. The pounding of your heart. The breath panting through your lips as you race through the trees. He had made his decision, sending another to tell you, worried that seeing you again would change his mind. You knew that you couldn’t stop him, but perhaps you could at least say goodbye. 
Your dress catches on a branch, tearing, but you heed it no mind as you keep running as your destination comes into sight. Two sets of eyes fall upon you.The green eyes of your brother, filled with pity. The gray eyes of your husband, filled with regret.  Your brother nods before stepping away, giving the two of you the moment you so desperately need. You throw yourself at your husband, clinging to his tunic, the silver that had been rimming your eyes finally spilling over. 
"Don't do it. Don't leave me," you sob.
He says nothing, gently brushing the tears away from your eyes, somehow managing to keep his own at bay. 
"Andras. Please," you beg.
He speaks finally. "You know I must. For the Spring Court. For Prythian."
"To Hell with the Spring Court! To Hell with Prythian! I need you!" You pause for a moment, voice growing soft as your hand finds your stomach, cradling the babe growing inside. "We need you."
He places a hand over yours. "That's why I must go. There is so little time left and I will not let my child live in a world that's been corrupted by Her. I cannot bear the thought of it. It may be a fool's errand but it is the only thing that I can think of that might save our child. Save you."
You nod, a fresh wave of tears leaving you unable to speak. 
He holds you for a moment, wishing it could be different. Wishing there was a way he could protect you without sacrificing himself. A way to live and see his child born.  But there was not and so he must. He breathes in deeply, taking in your scent for the last time and kisses you on the forehead before stepping away and nodding at the other male. 
Somehow, you manage to stay on your feet as he leaves you, watching the magic that transforms your love. You walk over to the wolf that stands in his place, placing a hand on either side of his muzzle before pressing a parting kiss there. The wolf gives you one last longing look before slipping through the hole in the wall. 
You drop to the forest floor as your legs finally give out, sobs wracking your body. Your brother sinks down next to you, pulling you into his arms, holding you tight. As if by holding you he could prevent the shattering of your heart. 
"I'm sorry," he whispers, voice cracking.  "I tried to talk him out of it. Tried to convince him to stay..." 
You ignore him, too focused on your own broken heart to listen to him try to make himself feel better. He picks you up then, standing to carry you home. If you can call it that anymore when such a vital piece of it is now gone forever. 
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You were in the gardens the day he died. Wandering aimlessly, fiddling with the gold ring hanging on the chain around your neck. You felt it as he drew his dying breath. Perhaps you had been mates after all. Perhaps this was as close as you'd ever get to feeling that bond, that golden thread that would never be, emptiness filling your chest as you sink to the ground amongst the roses. If it had snapped, could you have convinced him to stay? Could you have convinced him that you needed him, needed the other half of your soul? A hollowness fills your chest where you had always imagined the bond might form linking you to him. But it never did. Emotions burn in your throat, and somewhere someone screams. It’s a raw, primal sound filled with grief. Could that be you? You’ve retreated so far into yourself that you don’t even know anymore. Your hand falls to your stomach where it will swell with child, curling around yourself  to protect the babe, as if this grief is an enemy you need to protect them from. 
You’re not sure how long you lay there, curled in on yourself, feeling everything and nothing at the same time. You knew this day was coming. He may as well have been dead the day he crossed the wall and went into the human lands. You press his ring to your lips, the gold band cool from the night air. 
It is not your brother who finds you, but Lucien. He picks you up, carrying you into the house that no longer feels like a home. He carries you to your room, tucking you into your bed. He sits next to you, stroking the hair back from your face just like your mother had when you would wake from a nightmare as a child. But there was no waking from this one. He tells you how Tamlin is already going to find Andras’ killer to see if his death has brought the hope we so desperately need. You pray to the Mother, hoping that it hasn’t all been for nothing. And as your eyes grow heavy, the grief finally dragging you down into sleep, you hear as Lucien softly sings a lullaby his mother sang to him as a child.
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Months have passed when you wake with a start, tears streaming down your face. You'd dreamt of the forest again. Of losing your love, your home, your soul. Your dream followed him into the mortal lands, to where the human girl had shot him with the ash arrow. You had asked her about it, needing to know. Needing to know if he had been in pain. If he had suffered. 
 Your hand falls to where your child should be growing, letting the tears stream down your face as you stare up at the canopy of your bed. He had done it. Andras had been successful and now the rest was up to your brother. He just had to get the human girl to fall in love with him and your husband's sacrifice would not be in vain. Everything you lost would mean something. And maybe, one day, everything could be okay again.
Chapter 1
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A/N: This is my first fic with more planned! If you liked it feel free to send a request!
Thanks @azsazz for inspiring me to give fic writing a try!
divider by: @tsunami-of-tears
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underacalicosky · 4 months
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I continue to torture myself with fix-it scenarios where Anakin just can't handle seeing Obi-Wan having an emotional meltdown and gives up the dark side as a result. What if Obi-Wan was a wibbly mess on Mustafar?
“Until now, you’ve become the very thing you swore to destroy.”
“Don’t lecture me, Obi-Wan. I see—“
“Lecture you?!” Obi-Wan snaps suddenly, his voice bellowing. “You think I came here to lecture you?”
His sharp tone makes Anakin take a step back. He sucks in a shaky breath and straightens his posture, refusing to be rattled. As he opens his mouth to respond, Obi-Wan continues interrupting him.
“No, Anakin, I lecture you for staying up too late. For not folding your tunics properly.” His voice gets progressively louder and more impatient. “For not getting enough fiber in your diet! I’m not here to lecture you. I was sent here to kill you!” Obi-Wan yells.
Anakin knows it’s the reason why Obi-Wan is here, but to hear him say the words, with such certainty, makes his heart plummet. He’d hoped, with whatever little hope was left, that he wouldn’t have to fight Obi-Wan. His chest aches, knowing that this is how it must end. But he ignores the weakness that still lives in him and draws on the dark side for strength. The Force ripples around them when he pulls on it.
“And kill the rest of myself along with you,” Obi-Wan says furiously. “Part of me has already died.” He fixes Anakin with an intense stare, a seething fire in his eyes.
Taking another deep breath, Anakin narrows his eyes and returns his glare. He’s never seen Obi-Wan angry like this. It frightens him, but he keeps pacing like he's a caged wild animal because he can’t let it show.
“It died when you knelt in front of a Sith lord and proclaimed him your Master!” Obi-Wan’s face twists with uncontrolled and un-Jedi-like rage. “It died knowing that you would trade me for him. Do I mean that little to you?” he demands, spreading his hands and arms out in front of him. “I poured all of myself into training you and raising you and—”
With matching ferocity, Anakin shakes his head. “This isn’t about you!” Anakin yells, pointing at him.
“Of course it’s about me!” Obi-Wan yells back. “Your mother entrusted you to Qui-Gon and he entrusted you to me. Do you know what it was like everyday being scared out of my mind that I would let them down? That I would let you down?”
This is not Obi-Wan. Anakin was prepared for Obi-Wan to use reason. To remain somewhat collected as he projected his disappointment. Perhaps confronting Anakin with all the ways he’s violated the Jedi code, betrayed the Republic and democracy.
Obi-Wan’s skillfully talked circles around politicians, foreign royalty, the Jedi Council and kept his emotions at bay every time.
But this… Anakin is unprepared for this.
“No,” Anakin says with another shake of his head. “No, I made these choices,” he insists.
“Maybe I should’ve left the Order with you. We would’ve found our own way.” Obi-Wan was lost in his own thoughts, his eyes ticking everywhere at once, unable to focus. “And I wouldn’t have had to train you to be a soldier. Wouldn’t have dragged you through a war. Wouldn’t have let Palpatine near you.”
“I never wanted to be a burden!” Anakin cries.
“You weren’t a burden! You were my brother, Anakin! My greatest joy!” Obi-Wan screams. “What could I have done differently to stop this?” Obi-Wan asks, nearly begging.
With his fists balled at his sides, Anakin holds onto the last vestiges of his resolve. He can’t let Obi-Wan break him.
“We can’t change the past,” Anakin says, his voice hollow.
“Did I not love you enough?” Obi-Wan asks sadly, tears streaming down his face.
Instinctively, Anakin reaches for him through their bond, a habit formed from years of training and bickering and teasing and laughing and to his horror, it recoils and his heart shatters.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Anakin stomps his foot. He can’t have both. He can’t embrace the dark side to exploit its unnatural powers and still expect to find comfort in the golden and pure light that tethers him to Obi-Wan.
Anakin Skywalker has made a lot of choices in the last day. And here, he makes another.
With his head hung, he relaxes his hands and releases. The ground beneath them shakes as the dark, consuming anger bleeds from him.
Again he touches their bond, tenderly. Lovingly. Apologetically.
“I can’t change the past, but help me change the future,” Anakin sobs. “Please. We need to save Padmé. And the baby.”
Finally, Obi-Wan blinks as he snaps out of his trance. His eyes lock on Padme’s unmoving form on the ground and Anakin sees the moment that Obi-Wan realizes his renewed purpose.
“Yes. Get her onto the ship,” Obi-Wan says with the authority of a war General. “I’ll make sure 3PO and Artoo are both accounted for and have them help me find the nearest medical facility,” Obi-Wan says.
“If the Republic finds me… after what I’ve done…”
“Then we need to be careful where we go so they won’t find us,” Obi-Wan tells him and glances at Padmé, then back at Anakin before he boards the ship.
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midnightarcheress · 5 months
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Simon lives up to the nickname. 
pairing: bodyguard!ghost x actress!reader 2 | gold rush masterlist.
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every time you set a foot out of the house, he’s there. surely, a few steps behind, just like the orders say, but he’s there, hauntingly following you like a true ghost. lurking in the darkness or making himself known in broad daylight, he takes the job seriously, glaring at the people on the street who even dare to glance at you. it’s even worse when fans stop you for an autograph or a picture, towering by your side and meticulously watching every move made in your direction, getting ready to pounce at any minute.
the first few days were weird. he could sense how disconcerted you acted in his presence, even while flashing him a smile and saying a sugary ‘good morning’. maybe it was his size, maybe it was the mask, maybe it was the fact that a man was actively following you nearly every second of the day. the last thing he wanted was to frighten you.  
after a few weeks though, he noticed you getting accustomed to his company. he watched from behind how your back wasn't as tense, how you stopped glancing over your shoulder to check if he was still there, how you weren’t jumping anymore when he’d get closer, how you even tried to make small talk, despite his grunt-like answers. 
Simon didn’t want to admit it, but he couldn’t have been more wrong about you. you weren’t a pretentious rich brat as he expected. you were always polite, always smiling, always treating everyone in your way with nothing but kindness, something he wasn’t used to seeing. he reasoned that it was just your job as a very public person, after all, you had an image to uphold and he’d never actually seen you without the constant risk of being photographed and blasted online.
but in that moment, he couldn’t help the genuine concern for your safety starting to fill his chest and surpass the mere contract bond. he would catch himself staring at you for a little too long as you walked together, eyes attentively chasing the sway of your hips in each movement of your legs, the delicate way your finger held a pen whilst signing your name, your beaming irises whenever a child recognized you. he couldn’t bear the idea of being acknowledged on the street for his acts like you do.
“just ignore them.” you say, looking over your shoulder and noticing him stopping on his tracks on the pavement. for Simon, dealing with the paparazzi has been the most difficult part. military training comes in both an advantage and disadvantage, as his sniper eyes bust them from a mile away, spotting the greedy lens with intense precision, no matter how well-hidden they think they are. but the hard task is to keep his anger and itch to rip the camera apart at bay, when all they want is to snap you in bad light and sell it to the first rubbish magazine.
he grumbles, muttering cuss words under his breath. “you’ll get used to it.” the sympathetic tone of your voice eases a bit of his annoyance, going back into walking right behind you. 
the smell of freshly brewed coffee fills his nostrils as he opens the door of a small cafe for you to come in, rapidly scanning the room for threats. at that point, he already had your order memorised by heart. medium iced americano, no sugar. too bitter of an option for someone who looked so sweet, despite being accompanied by whatever muffin the store had left. 
“Ghost?”
his crossed arms tense up when you call for him, brows knitting together as he assesses the situation for any problem that may have appeared in the seconds he stood distracted by the waving of your hair under the air conditioning breeze. “mhm? what is it?”
“i asked you if you want anything.”
his knee-jerk reaction is to say a hasty no, thanks, but he’s finding it harder and harder to deny your offerings each day, when the small curve of your lips as you patiently wait for his response is so tempting. think faster. “uh, guess i could go for a tea. earl grey.” 
you nod and hand the barista your card, quickly paying for the order and standing by the counter. he remains a few steps back, waiting for the drinks with you. as soon as it’s ready, you hand him the cup of tea, fingers gently grazing over his, sending lightning sparks on his skin. keep to yourself, Simon. 
he shakes the feeling away and opens the door again, catching your eyes flicking to the silver pendant around his neck. once again, old habits die hard. he still wears his dog tags, the glinting metal serving as a constant reminder that he’s Simon Riley civilian, but will always be Simon Riley soldier. 
“military?” you question, stepping back to match his pace and walk by his side, curious eyes searching for his hardened gaze.
“yes.” his voice is sharp, settled in not prolonging the conversation.
you hum, turning your head back to the horizon, “that explains your skill set.” only then he shifts to see your face, raised eyebrows and question marks oozing out of his head. you chuckle, amused by his confused expression, “i got a file on you too, Simon.”
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seaofwine · 11 months
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What do you like about the Odyssey? Besides some entertaining episodes (e.g. Circe or Calypso), I've never really been able to get into the Odyssey as a whole (I find the first 5 books especially dull). The Iliad really speaks to me more.
It's hard to really pinpoint what I like most about it but I love to talk about the Odyssey so I hope you like long posts hahaha
The first five books act as the exposition. When the Iliad ends, there's a general understanding that most of the surviving characters made it home. Menelaus and Helen have reunited, the catalyst for the Trojan War has been resolved. Agamemnon traversed the sea and made it back, and although he was killed by his wife Clytemnestra, there is no question about where he is; unlike Odysseus.
Telemachus has spent his entire youth without a father. When he finally decides to set out from Ithaca to find any leads on where Odysseus is, he is confronted with the fact that most everyone else has been accounted for. He sees Menelaus and Helen, the order of their kingdom, the comfort they have in each other and the bonds they have restored. Telemachus has known nothing but uncertainty, while his mother is forced to weave lies and deceptions to keep the suitors that plague their home at bay. The first five books really show how important one man can be when he is utterly lost, and what it would mean for everyone who loves him should he be found. These books also show the close interest that Athena, as patron of Odysseus, takes in his family. She steps into the chaos of Ithaca and gives Telemachus the inspiration to embark on his own journey, chasing the ghost of his still-living father.
When we finally reach Odysseus, he is not the same man that those who knew him in Troy described. They are the closest Telemachus can come to knowing what came of his father, but even they are separated by nearly a decade and the breadth of the sea. Penelope hasn't laid eyes on her husband in twenty years, there is no overestimating what that can do to a person's memory. Odysseus's first action is to cry. When finally Calypso is forced to allow Odysseus to leave, by order of Hermes, he makes his own raft and leaves at the first possible moment. He is fighting against the will of Poseidon, against the wrath he incurred, all alone. He has lost every single one of his men, every single person who could ever vouch for his identity, in a world where no one could recognize him, is gone. Despite this, he is still fighting to get back to Ithaca.
Odysseus is so utterly human in the text. When he is hosted by Alcinous, Odysseus asks the singer there to recount the story of the Trojan Horse. It's like landing at the doorstep of a stranger who graciously allows you to stay and immediately asking his DJ to play *your own* greatest hits - which in turn only upsets him. This also sets up the dramatic reveal of his identity (I like to imagine him looking around like, you guys remember this one? Yeah that's Me, I pinkie promise. Please give me 4000 drachmae and your best oarsmen (: ).
He recounts the story of how he got so utterly lost on the way back and one thing the Odyssey will tell you, to your face over and over again, is that Odysseus is a big time liar. But for some reason, his tale is so compelling it's hard to remind yourself of that when hearing it for the first time. Some points are so beyond baffling (like striking Polyphemus in the singular eye the poor sod has, and then once to the safety of his boat (which is on open water, the domain of said cyclops's father) loudly announcing his full gods-given name and mailing address, just in case anyone missed who it was) that it's like, yeah that was probably exactly what he did. This is the section of the story where we see Odysseus as he sees himself. This is his own reflection of the actions he made and the troubles that befell him because of it.
Odysseus is such a complex character that one of the epithets he is given is "polytropos", the many-faced or many-sided. Odysseus and his relationship to his own identity, which he can shed and don at any point that's convenient for him, is one of the main reasons I am obsessed with his story. This, and the exploration in an ancient text about what a close relationship with a deity, is something I am constantly thinking about.
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bullet-prooflove · 1 month
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4500 Follower Celebration Bingo - Three Minutes: Sean Archer x Reader
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Tagging: @soultrysworld @mysticcandymiracle @kmc1989 @emilyjr @toasted-stiletto 
Welcome to Nightvale - You and Sean bond over a book.
The First Time (NSFW) - Sean and you sleep together for the first time.
The Only One (NSFW) - You're the only woman Sean has been with sober.
Dirty Weekend - You and Sean spent the entire weekend in bed together.
Familes - Sean meets your family for the first time.
Emergency Contact - You realise you don't have anyone to put down as an emergency contact.
Dirty (NSFW) - Sean comes home after a day in the community garden and things get a little heated.
Make A Wish - Sean is triggered on his birthday when he sees a familiar face in the paper.
Sunday Morning (NSFW) - You give Sean a very memorable Sunday morning.
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It’s Sean that ends up buying the pregnancy test from the bodega down the street. Sean that ends up searching on his phone which ones are the most reliable because there’s seven different types and he has no clue where to start. Sean that opens the box and reads the instructions because you’re too occupied with throwing up, to navigate the complexities of the leaflet.
“You’ve been sick for more than a week.” He tells you as he pushes the test across the kitchen table towards you. “I think it’s time to find out for sure.”
He waits on the opposite side of the bathroom door while you take care of business. Part of him is nervous, the other excited, the two of you haven’t talked about having kids. The truth is it’s never come up because the both of you tend to live in the moment, you fighting fires, him with his sobriety. You’ve never talked about what the future looks like beyond a marriage.
When you step out the bathroom he looks at you expectantly before you set the test down on the counter.
“Three minutes.” You say.
It’s the longest three minutes of his life.
His heart sinks when you pick up the test and read it out loud, he can tell your disappointed too from the way your body seems to sag with the news.
“I guess it is just stomach flu.” You say sadly before tossing the test in the trash and tucking yourself against him on the couch for the rest of the night.
“We should discuss it properly when you’re feeling better.” He says, his lips brushing over your temple but you’re already fast asleep, your head resting gently on his shoulder.
It’s a week later that he’s summoned to the hospital by his father. You’ve passed out during a training exercise on the rig, toppled off the damn thing and hit your head.
“She’s alright.” Dean reassures him when he meets his son in the E.D. “She has a mild concussion so you’ll have to keep an eye on her and the baby for the next few days.”
“The baby?” Sean repeats, unsure he’s heard correctly.
“He’s doing fine.” Dean assures him, his hand coming to rest on Sean’s shoulder and squeezing lightly. “They both are.”
“He?” Sean says, his eyes stinging.
It’s then that it dawns on Dean that his son had no idea you were carrying his child.
“We took a pregnancy test last week.” Sean tells him, using the back of his hand to wipe at his eyes. “It was negative…”
“Well they can give false negatives for a number of reasons.” Dean says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Faulty test, antihistamines, urine’s too diluted…”
“Water,” Sean realises as he goes over that time period in his head. “It was the only thing she could keep down when she was sick.”
“That’ll do it.” Dean tells him before he steers his son towards the bay you’re residing in. “Can you at least pretend to be surprised when she tells you? I can’t believe I messed up like that.”
Sean doesn’t get a chance to answer because his dad is already drawing back the curtain and there you are sitting in a hospital bed, clutching a sonogram of his son between your hands.
“Sean.” You say as you hold it up. “We’re having a baby.”
Love Sean? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.
Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee
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starsreminisce · 3 months
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Helion was the last of the High Lords to arrive. I didn’t dare look through the ruined doorway to where Lucien now stood in the sitting room, close to Elain’s side as she and my sister silently kept against the wall by the intact bay of windows.
I was about to turn into the room to begin without them when two male figures filled the night-darkened doorway. Jurian. And Graysen. And behind them … a small contingent of other humans. I swallowed hard. Now the difficult part would begin. Graysen looked inclined to turn around, the fresh cut down his cheek crinkling as he scowled, but Jurian nudged him in.
Sometimes I wonder if this was the moment Elain decided to pull away from Lucien. The first time Elain tried to convince Graysen to continue the engagement, she said Lucien's name to him when Graysen just called him some fae lord. When Graysen showed up for the battle, he didn't seek her out, but Lucien did, and she ended up following him and inviting him to live in Velaris.
I don't blame her for saying she doesn't want a mate. Nesta said she was in love with Cassian the moment she saw him, and Feyre was instantly drawn to Rhys when she saw him too.
Elain and Lucien didn't have that moment to get to know each other before their bond snapped. They didn't have the space to flirt or even talk. To make matters worse, Elain was already promised to someone else—someone she loved enough that Nesta approved.
I've seen the criticism that there is no tension between Elain and Lucien: Elain spends time with Lucien and accepts the bond. End of story. The latest criticism is about what kind of message SJM is putting out when Elain shows she isn't interested in Lucien and then ends up with him.
And it's funny because that's the whole point of their story together. At one point, Elain thought she and Graysen were perfect for each other—perfect enough to marry—until some red-haired fae held her, and she couldn't stop staring at him long enough for him to whisper they were mates. Even a few days before she was to marry Graysen, she waited for him in the library on the one day he decided to break the rules to get a book. She was aware of who Lucien was to her, and her eyes sparked when she asked him who he was.
The hardest battles someone can face are the ones between their head—the rationality—and their heart—the intuition and the gut.
That's the real story between Lucien and Elain. How can something that doesn't make sense when you step back to think about it make so much sense when you're in it?
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marlynnofmany · 2 years
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Irrational Attachment
I directed the delivery guy to put the last high-tech crate next to the others in our very full cargo bay, and I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. This was a big order. I noted the final count with a good old-fashioned Earth pencil.
The delivery guy, a fellow human much beefier than I was, smirked at the pencil and clipboard. “Really living in the space age, there,” he said. “Don’t you guys have tablets and scanners?”
“Oh sure,” I replied. “But one has a cracked screen and the other's got a faulty battery. You know how it is.”
His response was eclipsed by the arrival of the sparkly purple conglomeration of limbs that was my coworker Zhee. I was used to bug aliens by now, but I was amused to see the brawny human edge back a step.
Zhee didn’t notice. “What is ‘pack bonding’?” he demanded, clicking to a stop and looking at the two of us expectantly. “They were telling jokes that made little sense.” He waved a pincher arm over his shoulder. “Then it occurred to me that I have a pair of qualified humans here I can ask. Why do people joke about humans caring too much?”
The delivery guy straightened up, all bluster. “Oh, it’s a bunch of radiator wash, really. Lots of species are social. Really, we wouldn’t all have space ships out here if everybody couldn’t cooperate!”
“Well, sure,” I said. “But there’s a difference between cooperating and getting attached. Didn’t you have a teddy bear as a kid?”
“Yeah, as a kid,” he scoffed. “We’re talking about grownups here.”
“Grownups do it too,” I told him, barreling on as he started to object. “We give names and personalities to ships and cars and space probes. We put googly eyes on machinery, and keep pet rocks. We build people out of snow, lending them our own clothes, and we’re sad when they melt away. We have ancient history of granting a bear military rank, and recent history of doing the same to a cleaning droid. We care about things.”
He was still shaking his head and looking stubborn, so I pulled the pencil from my pocket. I held it in front of his face with an intense stare.
“I can tell you that this pencil’s name is Steven,” I said. “Then I can do this—” I snapped it in half. “—And I can watch a little bit of you die inside.”
His expression was that of a person shaken to his core. “What the f— Why would you do that??”
I looked down at the broken pencil. “You can’t tell me humans don’t care.”
Zhee clicked a pincher. “But it’s just a pencil.”
“It was,” I said. “Now it’s Steven.” I pulled a roll of tape from a different pocket. “And now I have to nurse him back to health and apologize.”
~~~
The ongoing backstory of the main character in this book. No pencils were (permanently) harmed in the creation of today's story. 
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