#trust me it is nowhere near as pathetic as it looks

[koukaaa-descent]

felt like drawing a pathetic masked. it tried to get into the brackens corpse stash for a snack

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

A Father’s Love?

Sam Winchester & daughter!reader, Dean Winchester & niece!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: You (9-10) are left alone with your dad, who currently is missing his soul, and it doesn’t go well

Update: part 2 is here

“Uncle De, please don’t go.” Your voice was low as you tried to keep your dad—who was in the bathroom—from hearing. “I-I don’t wanna be alone with him.”

Dean felt awful for leaving you like this, but he had no choice. You hadn’t been comfortable with Sam since the moment you’d found out he was back—the same time Dean did. You’d been living with Dean, Lisa, and Ben, and when Sam revealed that he’d been back all along, you instantly didn’t trust him. Dean had been angry, sure, but somehow he just hadn’t seen what you had—that your dad wasn’t really himself.

Of course, eventually the three of you—including Sam, who hadn’t been sure what was wrong with him—discovered the truth: he was soulless. As soon as Dean find out, he felt horrible for not understanding your hesitance before. Now that he knew, he tried to avoid leaving you alone with Sam whenever possible, especially since he didn’t really trust Sam without a soul.

But sometimes it was unavoidable.

“Kiddo, you know I don’t have a choice,” Dean said.

“I don’t like it here with him,” you insisted, refusing to let go of Dean’s sleeve. “He-he’s like daddy’s evil twin or something.”

Dean swallowed. “Sweetheart, he’s not evil, ok? He’s just a little weird right now.”

“Daddy’s weird,” you argued. “This guy is bad.”

Dean ran a hand over his face.

“Baby, please. You know I have to go. He’s gonna be good, I promise, and soon enough he’s gonna be back to regular-old dad, I swear.”

Dean left without another word, and the silence that hung in the motel room was deafening.

“Dean left?” Sam asked as he exited the bathroom. You ignored his question—he didn’t actually care, after all—and you went to sit on your bed. You could feel Sam’s eyes on you as you went. The motel stayed the worst kind of silence as you pretended to read while Sam just stared at you.

“What do you want?” You demanded finally, dropping the book. Your voice was nowhere near as firm as you wanted it to be.

“You hate me.” It wasn’t a question.

“You hated me first.” Unlike Sam, you couldn’t look at him while you accused him. Even without looking at the shell that used to be your dad, you could feel tears pricking at the back of your eyes as you waited for him to speak.

“I don’t hate you,” he huffed. “I mean, I don’t particularly care about you, but I don’t hate you.”

Somehow, apathy was even worse.

“Just leave me alone,” you mumbled. You shouldn’t have been surprised when Sam shrugged and obeyed. You felt your eyes drifting to him as he pulled a beer from the fridge and took it to his bed. His eyes caught yours and he frowned.

“What? You said leave you alone.”

“Dad wouldn’t have listened,” you mumbled, but Sam heard you anyway.

“Well, I’m not your dad,” Sam shrugged. “I’m not Sam, not anymore.”

“Ok.” You turned to face away from him. “Now I mean it. Leave me be.”

But Sam was suddenly intrigued, and he ignored your request.

“You and Dean wanted me to stop pretending to be him. This is just me not pretending.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like you,” you said, your eyes downcast.

“Exactly, and I don’t like you either. I mean, you’re kind of a brat.”

“I told you to leave me alone,” you said, finally looking up.

“You beg Dean to keep you with him all the time like I’m gonna hurt you or something, it’s pathetic.” Sam seemed to be getting a real kick out of finally saying all that he’d been thinking over the past few weeks.

“I said leave me alone!” You yelled at him, but he didn’t listen.

“I mean, I remember caring about you when I was that other guy, I just…I just can’t remember why.”

“Go away! Leave me be!” You were on your feet now, shoving and pushing at Sam, but the giant man didn’t even flinch.

“I mean your just a little pest!”

“Stop it! Just go away!”

Crying, overwhelmed, and so unbelievably hurt, you started to slap at the guy who used to be your dad, smacking his neck, his face, whatever you could reach. Suddenly, Sam wasn’t having so much fun anymore.

“Hey!” Though your slaps had little effect on him, one harsh blow from Sam had you flat on your back, dazed and breathing hard. You could still feel the impact of his palm against your cheek, and you couldn’t scramble away from him fast enough.

“If you’re gonna give it out, you should be prepared to take it,” Sam muttered gruffly.

You were on your feet in an instant, and you were out the door before you’d even made the decision to leave.

“Hey!” You could hear your dad—no, not your dad—following after you, and you barely made it five steps out of the room before his arms were around you and dragging you back in.

“Stop it!” You were crying now, and you couldn’t remember when you’d started. “Let me go!”

“If I lose you, Dean’s never gonna help me,” Sam grunted, shoving you back into the room and closing the door behind him. “So how about we all just calm down here.” It wasn’t a request; it was a command. “You don’t hit me, I won’t hit you.”

That would’ve sounded reasonable enough, if not for one thing—your desperate smacks to his skin had done nothing to him, they hadn’t even hurt, but you could already feel the side of your face swelling where he’d hit you. But you didn’t argue with Sam. You didn’t even speak. You just sat on your bed and turned your back on him, pulling your legs up to your chest and burying your face in your knees so you could cry in peace.

Sam left you alone for several minutes, but his sudden hand on your shoulder had you flinching back violently and scrambling away from him.

“Would you calm down?” Sam huffed as he let go. He was holding out a frozen bag of peas. “Put this on it.”

You took it hesitantly and slowly pressed the cold bag to your face.

“Look…” Sam’s hand was back on your shoulder, only now his giant fingers were right at the junction between your neck and your shoulder, and they were squeezing way too hard. “Dean would kill me if he figured out what happened, ok? And he certainly wouldn’t be helping me anymore. So maybe…maybe you just tell him you fell in the shower or something, ok?” He said it like a question, but the grip on your shoulder and the ice in his eyes told the truth; he expected you to lie to Uncle Dean, and you didn’t know what he’d do if you didn’t.

“Ok,” you whispered, and his hand was gone in an instant.

“Ok,” he said firmly.

Then he turned his back on you and left you alone to cry.

…

The swelling was down by the time Dean returned, but you’d looked in the mirror long enough to see a black and purple bruise forming along almost one whole side of your face.

You resisted the urge to run to your uncle the moment he stepped in the door—if you acted scared, he would figure it out, and Sam would be mad. Instead, you stayed where you were with your head down, your hair covering most of the bruise.

“Hey,” Dean greeted. “You guys ok?”

“We’re fine,” Sam said simply. You’d been hoping that he would lie for you, so you didn’t have to, but he seemed content to leave things quiet.

“You sure?” Dean was watching you now, noticing your uncharacteristic silence.

“I’m ok,” your voice was hoarse from crying, and Dean wasn’t fooled.

“What’s wrong?” Dean was in front of you in an instant, brushing your hair behind your ears. His hand recoiled when he saw the bruise. “What happened?”

“I—“ you looked up to face Dean, and your voice caught in your throat when you saw Sam staring daggers at you from behind your uncle’s shoulder. “I f-fell.”

“Fell?” Dean frowned.

You nodded. “In-in the shower.”

“Sam.” Dean’s voice was dangerously quiet. “Out. Now.”

“Me?” When had Sam become such a good actor? He looked as innocent as ever. “What did I do?”

Despite his acting, Dean wasn’t buying it for a minute.

“Get out! I need to talk to her alone.”

The moment Sam was out the door, Dean was tilting your chin up with a feather-light hand at your chin.

“He hit you, didn’t he.” Dean wasn’t asking.

“I fell,” you lied, the tears in your eyes giving you away.

“Don’t lie for him,” Dean pleaded. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t kick him out,” you pleaded. “We-we have to help him get his soul back. This isn’t him, Uncle Dean.”

“I know it’s not,” Dean sighed. “But I need you to be safe.”

“I’ll be safe when my dad is back.”

…

“You stay away from her.” Dean didn’t give Sam a chance to speak when he let him back into the room.

“Fine.” Sam was done lying—it hadn’t done any good.

“And if you ever touch her again, you’re gone, understand?”

Sam didn’t look happy, but he couldn’t argue.

“I understand.”

…

You slept in Dean’s bed that night—you hadn’t shared a bed with your father since he came back soulless—and Sam went out to do whatever it was that he did while you guys slept. Apparently being soulless meant you didn’t sleep.

“Are you ok?” Dean asked. “And don’t lie to me.”

“It doesn’t hurt so bad anymore,” you mumbled. “I just…I just miss him.”

Dens pulled you into his arms as you started to cry.

“I know, sweetheart. I miss him too. We’re gonna get him back, ok? I promise.”

“Ok Uncle Dean.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl

[hauntedhokage]

PART 12: Early Mornings

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

SUMMARY: You enjoy morning coffee with Bakugou, making some plans for future days. 

[series masterlist] | {ao3} | [tumblr masterlist] | {ko-fi} | [spotify playlist]

It’s always difficult to pull yourself away from Eijirou after long nights of socializing. He was a talented extrovert but events like that always exhausted him, making him clingier than usual when you went to bed and impossible to wake up the following morning. You remembered curling up on the couch with Eijirou after showering and changing, and must have dozed off while Katsuki was in the shower because you woke up in Katsuki’s bed with Eijirou while the blonde was nowhere in sight. It was interesting that you’d ended up here, but not surprising. Keeping his babygirls together was important to Eijirou, and Katsuki had the bigger bed, so it was the natural spot to collect. 

Rolling out of the bed was difficult, the strong arms kept trying to pull you back into the bed until you eventually broke away from them and landed somewhat gracefully on your feet. The pathetic sleep whine that leaves him is quickly muffled by him rolling over onto his stomach and pressing his face into the pillow that you’d left behind. It’s tempting to curl back up around him and get another hour or so of sleep, but there’s a conversation that you’d like to have with Katsuki  without your shared boyfriend hovering around with a shit eating grin on his face.

And you find the blonde in the kitchen, standing in front of the coffee pot and pouring what looked to be a second mug of coffee. 

“Morning,” you greet softly, closing the distance between you as he nods his own greeting. 

“I thought you’d be up soon, so I made more coffee. I just don’t know how you like yours, and didn’t want to make it something you wouldn’t like.”

It was a thoughtful gesture, and you explain how you like your coffee as you fix it to your specifications. He's taking mental notes, you know him too well at this point to think otherwise, and you try to move with enough space that he can see what you’re doing. 

“C’mon.” He tilts his head in the direction of the living room, and you follow him from the kitchen but continue out to the balcony, not missing him grabbing the blanket left on the couch on his way. 

The bench on the patio was large enough to fit three people, but you sit close to Katsuki and are grateful for the blanket that he puts over both of your laps when the cold morning air settles on your skin. You don’t know quite what to say, but you feel comfortable enough to trust that you didn’t have to say anything - just being beside him in this moment was enough. To have him invite you to share this personal time meant a lot, but you know they’d tell you that you were putting too much on it. 

“How’s your wrist feeling?”

“Much better. I think your kisses might double as a painkiller.” He’s exaggerating, but you’re glad to hear that he wasn’t in as much pain as he had been last night. “Your feet okay? You were walking kinda stiff towards the end.”

“Those shoes suck, but I’m good now.”

He nods, and you both take a drink of your coffee in near unison while continuing to stare out at the skyline you could see from the balcony. 

“Thank you for fixing my shirt,” you finally comment after a couple moments of quiet, looking over to see those amber eyes fixated on you. “You didn’t have to, especially after the way I yelled at you that day. That wasn’t very kind of me, and I’m sorry for treating you like that.”

“No, I deserved a lot of that. I didn’t explain myself well enough, and made you feel like shit because of it and that wasn’t fair to you. You’ve always been enough, y’know? For him, and-” he pauses, his free hand carefully coming to rest on your cheek as his own tint a soft pink - because of the cold weather, you’re sure. “And for me, too. And I’m sorry I made you feel like you weren’t.”

You know better than to ask if he means it, the one thing Bakugou Katsuki didn’t do was say things he didn’t mean to make people feel better. 

“Do you want to do something tomorrow night? Just the two of us?” The question doesn’t feel surprising coming from him, but the way his hand stayed on your cheek certainly was. It was warm though, you weren’t going to complain. 

“Like a date?”

“We can keep it friendly, if you want.”

“Is that what you want?” It wasn’t, and he knows by the look on your face that you knew the answer too. “Because I’d like for it to be more than just friendly.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, gently pulling his hand from your face to hold in your own as you murmur, “Last night was a lot of fun, and I’d love to spend more time with you.”

He only nods, and you know he’s not going to say anything soft in return at this point so you’re happy to just sit in silence with him. It was still comfortable, and that was what mattered most to you as you continued drinking your coffee. 

“I talked to Deku about your idea for how we can stop fight night before it starts next year. We both think a sanctioned tournament similar to how UA had the sports festival would decrease a considerable amount of the activity on the streets.”

You don’t remember when you’d talked to Katsuki about that, which leads you to believe that he’d listened to one of your rambles about crime reduction tactics or maybe Eijirou had said something about it. Either way it felt incredibly validating to hear that three of the top five pros thought that you were onto something and would possibly take your idea higher up.

“Most of the arrested parties had no known gang affiliation, it just makes sense to provide some outlet for people to let the edge off and get paid for it if they do well.”

“The research you did on that was very detailed. I didn’t think you had the energy for that between your own work and taking care of us.”

“You read through my research?”

“You left it out and I was curious. You were really going to take that to the Hero Commission?”

“The Commission, the Mayor of Tokyo, maybe even see if the Prime Minister’s office would at least look at it. It’s unnecessarily dangerous for the city and the people in it, and the heroes working to stop it. Last year was bad, this year was worse, and it’s only going to escalate unless something is done to address it.” The way he was looking at you was something you don’t think you’d experienced directed at you. You’d seen the undivided attention and intent thinking face be directed at Eijirou, marveling at how your boyfriend didn’t crack under the pressure of the blonde’s intense gaze, but to have it directed at you made you realize just why Eijirou handled it so well. Being on the receiving end didn’t make you feel small, or as if he was trying to pick apart your argument - in fact, you felt the opposite. The way he looked at you made you feel like you could kick in the door to the Prime Minister’s office with no consequences, you even felt like he’d help. 

“You care a lot about this. For the city and the people in it.”

“We’ve seen the country fall apart before due to unchecked quirk aggression, I’d hate to live through that twice.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, carefully pulling your now empty mug from your hands to sit on the table beside the bench. “But I doubt you want to talk about work on your day off.”

“I don’t mind it, I like talking to you.”

“When we go out tomorrow night, no work talk.”

“What’s the penalty if we slip up?” 

“I’m sure we can come up with something agreeable for us both.”

You nod at that before turning as movement catches your eye from the other side of the window. Eijirou had finally rolled out of bed, bright red hair a mess as he slowly moved around the living room looking for something. It only takes a second for Katsuki to catch on to what you’d seen, and he watches with the same fond smile you wear as you both watch your boyfriend try to figure out where his lovers had gone. 

“Let’s go save him from his misery,” Katsuki suggests, and you nod your agreement while letting him help you up from your seat. The blanket is carefully wrapped around your shoulders before he grabs the empty coffee mugs and leads you inside. He offers to cook breakfast while letting Eijirou steal a couple needy kisses, then it’s your turn to be needily kissed on and cuddled while Katsuki sets to work. 

“Can’t believe you left me, baby.”

“We’d never leave you,” you mumble into his neck, placing a gentle kiss to the warm skin as footsteps pad across the living room floor. “Never ever.”

“You were together?”

“Mhm, just on the balcony. Never too far from our baby Eiji.” Your assurance is met with a kiss to the top of your head, and you feel your body rock with Eijirou’s as Katsuki gently nudges him while telling you there was more coffee on the side table for you. 

It’s a few minutes before you’re given the room you need to actually drink the coffee Katsuki had brought out to you, so it’s colder than you would have preferred, but you’re amazed at the fact that he’d made it perfect for you. He was good, much better than you were at paying attention to details like that and committing them to memory so quickly. 

But he definitely cared a lot about getting things right. 

[doxypsychlean]

is there a part 2 to Strong maybe bit of smut

Strong pt.2

Aegon ii Targaryen x Strong!Reader

Previous chapter: Strong pt.1

Warnings: Targcest, Explicit language, NSFW content, Blood, Aegon beats up Aemond(not that bad, I swear)

Thou shan't repost/copy/ translate any of my work or I'll sneak into your home late at night and bite your nose off!

English isn't my first language. I don't proofread. I slap commas wherever I feel they're needed.

Additional info: Instead of Rhaenyra escorting the Strong fellas back to Dragonstone, they all stay in the Red Keep(just imagine it for a sec that Alicent begged her ass off and got Rhaenyra to stay, cs she wants to spend more time w her(this is my fkn world and in it, these two make up idc)

A/N: Ooop, here it fkn issss!!! Ngl, I was cackling like a middleschooler while writing the spicy part of this one. Welp... Cheers, you horny bastards!!!

P.S. I fkn lied, this is nowhere near close to the req. Sorry, dear Anon.

A choked up sob came out of the Prince's mouth as he rubbed the linen washcloth over the bitemarks on his neck. Tears welled up in his eyes, but Aegon was quick to blink them away, before the woman could see.

She was sat across him, on the edge of the bed, watching him as Aegon dabbed away the blood. She was already dressed, in a long, bell-sleeved green gown that showed off every curve of hers. Aegon sneaked a glance at her deep neckline, then quickly averted his eyes.

The woman noticed it immediately, eyes never leaving his face. She ran a soft hand over her shoulder and pushed her long, dark hair out of the way, so it could trail down her back.

"Our mothers, along with your sister, Baela and Rhaena are in the gardens." She said, voice gone back to its usual cushiness. "They invited me to join them. I trust you will behave?"

The silver haired man flinched at her question. His hands dropped down to his lap, pulling at the washcloth as his eyes looked down at the dirty sheets.

Behave. Behave. Behave.

"Love?" Her eyes narrowed, word coming out rough and low.

Aegon flinched again. He looked up at her, head shaking up and down violently. She let out an amused hum, then got up on her feet.

"Good." She was now standing next to him, one hand reaching up to his face. She took in the angry bruise she'd awarded him with the night before. Then the faint imprints of her hand that covered his face, neck and chest. The rest staying hidden from her eyes by the sheet Aegon had covered his lower half with. "You're so good."

Aegon whined, the pathetic sound reverberating in his head. Before he had time to curse himself out for it, her fingers hooked under his chin. He turned to face her, hands clutching and pulling at the washcloth.

"My brothers are with Aemond and Ser Criston, in the training grounds." She said, thumb running over his bottom lip. "You'll join them."

It wasn't a question, but an order. One he wasn't brave enough to not follow. Not after the things his sweet,sweet wife had done to him throughout the previous night.

"That's it." The woman laughed out as she bent forward, lips meeting with those of Aegon. "I must go, my love. Get ready, then head down. You'll find clothes on the chair over there."

His pale eyes shot open, following to where her hand was pointing at. He nodded once more, head falling down after. The Prince put the washcloth on the nightstand as he got up.

Although he was a few good inches taller than her, Aegon felt incredibly small. Weak. Worthless. Undeserving.

He hissed as her hands wrapped around his wrists, successfully getting her to pull away. For a bit. Then she grabbed him again, this time much more gently, and brought them up so she could take a closer look.

The porcelain skin was now red and swollen. The ropes had left behind thin, angry traces where they'd cut in, marring the blank canvas Aegon was.

"I am sorry, my dragon." She whispered as she peppered his inner wrists with soft, apologetic kisses.

"It's fine." The Prince finally spoke out, his voice hoarse and trembling. He was smiling down at her, trying to bite back another hiss. "I...enjoyed it."

The brunette looked up at him, plump lips meeting with the red skin for the last time before she let go. Her arms wrapped around his neck, body pressing close to his.

Aegon rubbed his bruised cheek against hers, melting in her hands.

"My dragon..." She trailed off, pulling him impossibly close to herself. "I love you."

Aegon whined again, the tears now falling freely from his eyes. His hands reached for her hips, nails digging into the green silk of the gown that covered them.

"Say it again..." He was falling apart, body shaking with the intensity of the sobs that left his mouth. "Please."

The woman kept quiet. The fingers that were rubbing small circles on the back of his head, stopped moving.

"Please." Aegon needed to hear it. Especially after the cruel words she'd punished him with the night before. "Tell me you love me. Please."

Love me. Love me. Love me.

But she didn't say it. Instead, she unwrapped her arms from around him. The Prince almost fell to his knees at the loss of contact.

"Get dressed." She turned around, walking towards the doors of their chambers.

Aegon became painfully aware of the pitiful state he was in- naked, crying and begging, covered in endless amount of bruises, scratches and marks. He tried to put himself back together, to wipe the broken expression off his face. But there was no point.

In just a few hours, she'd completely destroyed whatever it was, that was left of the Prince. He had no ground to stand on. Not anymore. He could yell in her face, break her to pieces, even kill her. But she'd die, knowing she won. Knowing that she'd broken him in, taken him down to being this sad, miserable excuse of a person.

"I love you." Her voice reached Aegon's ears. "I truly do."

Then she was gone.

────────────

"What happened to you?" Aemond asked as his brother approached him. He lowered his sword, signaling to Criston he'd take a break.

The knight offered a small nod, then turned his attention to the younger boys who were standing off to the side.

"Got into some trouble last night?" The one-eyed prince teased.

Aegon's head shot up, eyes staring up at his younger brother in shock. How did he find out, he heard his trembling voice inside his head. His legs almost gave out at the thought of Aemond knowing what she'd done to him. His brother already looked down on him, what must he be thinking now, that he knew his big brother was used like a whore.

"Told you that you shouldn't be going out into the city alone..." Prince Aemond said, hand reaching for Aegon's shoulder.

Aegon bit down a groan as his brother's hand came down on one of the bitemarks. He shook his head, his usual smug grin coming back on his face to cover the pain.

"It was nothing, don't worry about it." A relieved breath escaped through Aegon's words. Fortunately, Aemond didn't notice it.

The long-haired man lowered his hand, eyeing Aegon up and down suspiciously. There was nothing out of the ordinary. His brother looked a bit tired, a bit disheveled. Nothing he hadn't seen before.

He looked away for a second, then his eye came back to Aegon.

"What in the Seven Hells are you wearing?"

Aegon was sporting a high-collared black doublet, black pants and leather boots. That's not what shocked Aemond. It was the red shirt that showed underneath the doublet. The red cord it was embroidered with. The three-headed dragon pin on his chest.

Then his eye trained on Aegon's hands. The ridiculously large gold ring was resting on his little finger of his right hand. On his left thumb, however, was a simple steel band ring. One that had the sigil of House Strong on it.

Aegon turned red as he noticed the way his brother was inspecting him.

"Leave it be." He whispered, eyes going back to their nephews, who were now swinging at Ser Criston. "It doesn't concern you."

Aemond wrapped one gand around the back of Aegon's neck, eliciting a pained growl from his brother.

"You didn't get that nasty bruise out in the streets, did you?" Aemond teased, eye darting to his brother now and then. "No shame, brother. I honestly expected for your Strong lady to put you in your place way sooner."

Aegon didn't dare say a word. He stood there, allowing his baby brother to make his cruel joke.

"Prince Aegon, Prince Aemond..." Criston's voice rang out. "Would you join us? We have to even the odds."

Aemond turned nodded, then took a step forward. He turned suddenly, spinning on one heel.

"Would anyone blame me if that little bastard lost an eye whilst sparring?" He said with that smirk of his. "Do you think your Strong lady will come after me, do to me what she did to you?"

And there it was, the straw that broke the camel's back. Aegon's back.

He lunged at his brother, knocking him to the ground. With his newfound strength, it only took a few blows to the face for Aemond to pass out, his head bouncing up and down with every hit.

Ser Criston, Luke and Jace reached them in no time. They tried to pull Aegon off, but the Prince simply refused to let go. The rage had blinded him, all he could see was his brother's bloodied face.

But it wasn't the cruel jokes. Nor was it Aemond threatening to take their nephew's eye out. It was him, suggesting that the Princess would put her hands on Aemond the way she'd done to Aegon.

That was for him. The pain, the humiliation,the punishment. All his. No one else's. His alone.

"Aegon!"

And just like that, Prince Aegon let go. He allowed for Criston to pull him to his feet and away from Aemond.

All his. No one else's. His alone.

He shook off Cole's hands, then turned to stare at her. Waiting. For her to storm over to him, and show everyone where his place was. To show to his mother, his sisters, his cousins, his nephews.

But nothing came. She stood there, at the top of the steps, staring down at him. One hand extended out towards Aegon. Drawing him, guiding him.

He didn't notice how Alicent ran past him, nor did he see how she dropped to her knees, next to Aemond's unconscious body. He didn't notice the scared and confused looks on his nephews faces or the way his half-sister, Rhaenyra, looked from her daughter to him with a smug grin.

All he could see was her.

Aegon followed the woman into the Red Keep and up the steps, towards their chambers.

────────────

"Why?" She asked, flopping down on the bed.

He didn't respond. Aegon was too busy trying to undo the clasps of his doublet to notice she'd said something.

"Come here..." She murmured, hand reaching out for him just like it had out there.

He heard her this time. Without wasting any time he strode over, only stopping when he had to look down to get a good look of her face.

They stood there like that for a bit, neither saying a word.

Then she spread her legs slowly, making room for him.

"Closer, I can't reach you."

The Prince took another step forward, now standing between her legs.

"I asked you a question." She said softly, fingers quickly undoing the clasps, then the buttons of his shirt. "Why did you do it?"

"He threatened to take your brother's eye out."

"I don't like it when you lie to me, Aegon." Her whole demeanor changed in the blink of an eye. There was no gentleness to her anymore. She tugged at the strings of his breeches, untying them with one swift move. "So why? I want the truth."

Aegon Targaryen had never shied away from a woman's touch the way he did when his wife's fingers ran down his happy trail. He sucked in a breath.

"He..." The Prince turned to look out the opened windows.

"What did he do?" She looked up at him, two fingers hooking at the front of his pants and tugging down.

"He asked if you'd do what you did to me, if he were to take his eye out." Aegon admitted, shaking his clothes of his body.

"And that made you knock Aemond out cold because..." The woman almost laughed at her own words. Aegon got him good, she couldn't deny it.

She watched as his breeches fell to the ground, freeing Aegon from the tight grasp they had on him. He let out a hiss as the cold air touched him, his already hard cock slapping against his lower abdomen.

Aegon looked away again, too ashamed of how much effect she had on him.

Two hungry eyes were staring down at the head of his cock, deep shade of pink and already leaking.

"Because...?" She teased, hand wrapping around him.

Aegon let out a deep moan, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. His pale face was turning red, making the purple bruise on his cheek stand out even more.

He hissed as she dragged her hand up and down the length of his cock at a painfully slow pace. The soreness of the night before still lingered, making every inch of his body scream in agony. Still, he found himself coming to love the feeling. The pain. The humiliation. The punishment.

"Because I don't want you to touch anyone else the..." His breath hitched as the brunette bent down a bit and licked a long stripe up the underside of his cock.

She felt him twitch slightly, making her let out an amused huff. A shiver ran down Aegon's back when he felt her warm breath hit him. His hand came to rest at the back of her head, gently massaging the skin underneath his fingers.

The sensation of her wet tongue dissappeared once she reached the tip, leaving the man to thrust his hips into the air. Then her full lips wrapped around the head, her tongue circling around it. She let out a low hum, the sound reverberating throughout his whole body.

"I don't want you to do what you did to me last night to anyone else!" He cried out, almost toppling over at the feeling of her tongue rubbing over the slit of his cock. "Just me..."

Her lips left him with a loud pop, the woman laughing softly at it. She wiped away the mixture of precum and saliva from her lips as she looked up at him.

"Just you, my dragon." She said as her hands wrapped around his wrists gently, guiding them towards her shoulders. "Help me get it off."

Aegon looked at her with a dumbstruck look on his face. His confusion didn't prevent him from sliding down the garment past her shoulders.

"You're not angry at me?" He asked.

"Quite the opposite..." The brunette said as she got up, leaving barely any space between their faces. "I'm proud of you, my brave dragon."

Another whine escaped Aegon as he slid his hands down her body, ridding her of her green gown. He pulled her close, their chest pressing against together.

He hid his face in the crook of her neck, planting wet, needy kisses on the skin there. Aegon lifted her up, the woman wrapping her legs around his waist quickly. He climbed on the bed while still holding her.

"I'm so sorry..." He said as he pulled away to look at her. "About yesterday. I didn't mean it, I just wanted to get a reaction from..."

She cut him short, pushing him off of her and then climbing on top of Aegon. On hand reached up to cover his mouth, the other going to his throat.

"I know." The Princess said, grinding down on him.

Aegon moaned from behind her hand, thrusting up. The grip she had on his throat got stronger. He stilled, his breathing did too.

The hand on his face turned, until her thumb was pressing down on his lips. He opened his mouth, tongue swirling around the single digit, cheeks hollowing as he sucked in.

"So good..." She whispered, her other hand sliding down his body and dissappearing between them. "So fucking good. For me."

Aegon's eyes fluttered shut as she wrapped her fingers around his cock, head shaking up and down with a choked moan.

"So brave..." The woman raised up slightly as she guided his cock to her, rubbing it over her slick cunt. "My brave dragon."

He bit down on her thumb as the tip of his cock entered her. The woman hissed, but didn't pull away. Instead, she hooked her other fingers under his chin, then shook slowly.

"Try not to bite it off or I'll have to return the favor." She joked, eyes darting from him to where their bodies met.

Both let out a chuckle, the sound soon getting replaced by Aegon's whines.

"Move." He unwrapped his lips from around her thumb, teeth still holding it in place. "Please."

"As my Prince commands..." Her breath hitched as she slammed down on him.

Her free hand trailed back up and then down again, nails digging in. Soon his porcelain skin turned to an angry shade of red, blood prickling.

Aegon couldn't hold back anymore. His hips snapped up, meeting with hers. Her palm collided with his face. He bit down on the digit in his mouth again with another hard thrust.

Another slap. His cheek was staring to sting. Then he did it again.

"You're enjoying it, aren't you?" She hissed out as she bounced up and down.

Aegon hummed, tongue rubbing against the pad of her thumb.

She pulled her hand away from his face, his teeth dragging over.

"I want to hear you." She said as she dropped down to his chest, legs giving out. "Say it."

Aegon mumbled a few incoherent sentences before wrapping his arms around her waist tight. He set up a painfully fast speed, skin hitting skin as he chased his own high.

Her mind went blank at the first thrust, hands pushing up as she tried to pull away from his grasp. She almost slipped away, but Aegon was quick to follow her. His head dipped down, lips wrapping around one of her nipples. He bit down and then sucked in, just as she'd done to him the night before.

A hiss came from the woman. One of her hands sneaked over his shoulder, then pulled his head back by his hair.

A thin string of saliva trailed from his mouth and down to her bruised nipple. He offered a toothy, devilish grin before licking his lips clean.

"I'm close." She stuttered, eyes shutting tight.

Aegon laughed out as his bruised cheek came to rest on her chest, his eyes closing. He kept the same pace, the sweet aching in his hips coming once more.

"Princess, the feast..." The doors flew open, one of her maids barging in. "Oh, Gods!"

The girl left just as quickly, blush creeping up on her face.

"Don't stop!" She moaned out as Aegon's thrust stuttered. "Don't!"

He laughed again, hips snapping. Then he stopped completely.

"It would seem I still don't know my place, wife." He craned his neck up as his mouth left behind a hot, blazing trail from her collarbones to her jaw.

"You'll learn..." The woman looked down at him, hand going back to wrap around his throat. "...husband."

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#344

“Get comfortable.  I just checked the weather; we are going to be here at least for tonight.  There is no way that a tow truck is going to make it to your car in time before the next storm hits.  No one is going to risk their own safety on these muddy roads so that you can get back to the city.  Really it was a stupid thing to do to go on a mountain drive right before a storm—on unfamiliar backwoods dirt roads to boot.  You are just lucky that I was coming back with my winter supplies when I saw you.  You are going to be here for the night, probably two or three….

“Even if I were to take you back into town, you still wouldn’t be able to get your car out in the same amount of time, and then I would be stuck in the city.  Naa.  This is the best.  Go ahead and get out of those wet clothes and throw them in the dryer behind you alongside my wet shirt and jacket.  You can leave your undies on if you want.

“Look, I grew up in a two-bedroom house with three brothers.  I spent 8 years in the Marine Corps.  I have seen hundreds if not thousands of naked men.  Nothing you have… or lack… will surprise me….

“…Jesus fuck!  I spoke too soon.  A hot pink thong?  Are you serious?  Even the fags I know wouldn’t wear something so pathetic.  Did you actually pay money for that?...  Your wife?  Figured.  I can’t fucking stand looking at them.  Take it off.  Now!

“I’ve seen naked men before.  If you weren’t here, I would be walking around this place and my property naked.  In fact, let me get out of these overalls right here.  I don’t wear stupid ass thongs like that.  I don’t wear underwear at all.  Two clips undone and… you get to see Tank here. 

“Now off with that stupid thong. 

“Look I’m 6 foot 7 inches and weigh three hundred fifty pounds.  I have over a foot on your height, and I am way more than double your weight.  You are no fucking match for me.  That’s it.  You look terrified.  Good….

“I don’t know what you were worried about.  You got a decent body.  Your dick is all shriveled up.  It can’t be from the cold outside or most likely from being terrified.

“Tank here never experiences shrinkage.  That’s because he’s fucking huge.  It may look normal size, but hanging here on a big guy like me, but trust me when he gets hard, angry hard, he can push over nine inches long and seven and a half around.  Wanna feel a real man’s cock?...  I know you do.  I can see you thinking….

“…No no no.  Get the fuck back here….  You ain’t going anywhere little man.  You are so easy to throw around or down to the floor in this case.  Pathetic.  All I have to do is shift my weight to my right foot on your chest and I will crush you like a bug.

“Let me fill you in on your situation.  You are 30 minutes from town in the middle of nowhere, there’s a cold storm coming in which might even bring us snow, and my nearest neighbor is Deputy Schmidt one mile away. 

“Look up at me!  If you run, you will get lost, you will freeze, and you will die.  And if you think of running to Schmidt, know this, he’s one mile away by way of an obscure snowmobile trail.  But don’t worry, he’ll be by in a few minutes.  When you went back to your car to get some things, I texted him that I have a night guest he might want to meet.  And if you think I’m intense, there’s nothing like a thirty-two-year veteran of the police force with anger issues and a dick to match….

“…No before you think I have reception, no I don’t.  I did near your car though.  Up here, there’s no reception, no internet, no telephone lines.  We are out in the middle of nowhere detached from humanity.  Just you, me,… and Tank here. 

“Good ol’ Tank.  He’s happy to see a helpless you on the floor looking up at him.  He’s really excited to see you.  Look at his pre-cum.  Tank likes to leak when he sees a new faggot.

“Aw shut the fuck up.  I don’t care that you have a wife or a girlfriend,… or even both…. 100% straight?  Hunh.  Really?  I think we both know that when you finally leave here, you won’t be able to say that.  Tank here is going to smash your cherry. 

“Don’t fucking move.  I want to see if the drop from Tank’s leak will land on your face…. Right on your upper lip!  Go ahead and lick it!...  I said ‘Lick it bitch.’  Fuck yeah!

“You ready to give Tank your pussy?  ‘Cause he’s ready to turn that puss into a cunt.  I’m going to lift my foot up.  Then I want you to stand up and take a moment to catch your breath.  Then I want to bend over this kitchen table and present your pussy for me.

“…Bend over.  Ahh, there it is, that moment you accept the inevitable and just give up….  Now pull apart those cheeks….  That’s one pretty pussy.  Too bad I have to ruin it.  Now beg me to fuck you.  I want to hear your depraved hunger for me to destroy your pussy.  Beg!

“You can do better than that.  If you convince me you want me to take your cherry with your pathetic begging, I’ll put some lube on my dick.  Otherwise Tank is going in dry.  Trust me, you don’t want Tank to rip up your dry pussy, and I don’t want your cherry blood all over my kitchen floor.  Now beg.

“…That’s better.  I don’t know if you ever stuck something up your cooch, but you want to push out as I go in.  Don’t worry.  I’m slathering Tank up with some Crisco.  Tank is ready to shoot and he ain’t even in yet.

“Keep pushing out.  Here comes Tank.  Scream mother fucker.  No one will hear you.  Oh man, does your cherry feel good strangling my cock.  Your second sphincter is massaging Tank’s tip in all the right ways.  It’s not going to take me long.

“Struggle all you want; you ain’t going anywhere.  Keep screaming.  You should find it more difficult with me laying on your back pounding your cunt’s insides.  It’s hard to get a breath in, hunh?  Hell, with my arm sliding under your neck, it’s easy to cut off your air by applying pressure to both sides with my bicep and forearm.  It’s going to get very difficult to breathe very fast. 

“You fight back on instinct, but you won’t win.  I can feel your struggle as your cunt tightens up and spasms uncontrollably.  That’s so fucking hot.  Tank is close.  Oh fuck.  Oh fuck I’m gonna cum.  I’m gonna fucking cum.  Fuck!  Fuck! Fuck!...  Jesus!

“No, I know you are struggling to breathe.  That’s what I want., what I still want.  I plan on going all night.  When you lose consciousness, then I will take Tank out of you.  Don’t worry.  My arm will replace it.  Fisting is a lot easier on an unconscious cunt than one that is fully aware.

“This is only the beginning.  Oh there you go.  Good night.  Sleep, not so tight.

“Fuck.  Where did that Crisco go?”

[icarusmonsoon]

healed wounds, mended hearts pt II - rafe cameron

rafe cameron x reader, enemies x lovers, a lot of fluffs and angst between the characters and Y/n, hurt-comfort, a short fanfic series

Part I

___________________________________________

PART II

Rafe

A soft thud was heard from his back, he wasn't sure what made him turn in the middle of preventing Pope from dumping the cross into the ocean but he did. They both did. Rafe can see a familiar figure laying on the floor, blood soaking their side with one of his dad's man looming over them. His heart stopped when he realized who that was, anger spiking up at the thought of what just happened.

He stepped away from Pope, with him doing the same as he just now realized what had happened. Rafe thought he was supposed to be bright. How come Pope didn't realize his best friend was hurt and just now noticing because he stopped coming after him?

"Y/n" he mumbled to himself as he strode past containers, urging himself to get to that man as fast as possible. Anger washed over him with the thought of her being hurt. "Bos i-" There was no time for the man to finish his sentance because the minute Rafe got to the smirking man, he pulled his collar upward, his other hand strangling the man's neck from the side. "You did that huh? You fucking stabbed her?"

"Yeah Bos said to-"

"It doesn't matter what my dad said because i am your bos too, no? Besides he ordered you all to make them leave! And you fucking stabbed her." He spat, his blood ran hot through his whole body.

Rafe punched his face, again, and again, and again. All he see was red, his hands, his vision, the man's face.

"Y/n! Stay with me okay? You stay awake. Fuck! Y/n?" He heard a voice called out in the back and it pulled him out of his mind. Y/n.

Rafe let go of the pathetic man, throwing his body intentionally harsher to the wet side of the floor. He turned his body to face her frail figure with her head leaning against Pope. Her eyes was closed, and he knew. He knew there was not much of an option. And at that exact moment he doesn't care if her friends don't agree, he doesn't care if she'll hate him the next time she sees him. Pope looked forward, their gaze locking, realization so prominent in Pope's pleading gaze as it filled with panic and desperation.

They both realized it was the only way to save her. They have a doctor onboard, whereas if she goes with the rest of the pogues, no one exactly knew where they'll lay ashore, if they'll find any land at all. They were all in the middle of nowhere, that was the only thing they were sure about.

"She has to stay"  Rafe said to him, and though they both knew it, the boy shook his head. Denial clouding his senses as he wrap protective arm around Y/n's limp body, preventing Rafe to go near her. "No there must be another-"

Rafe stepped forward, his arms flying to his sides with frustration. "For fuck sake Heyward you do realize we have a doctor here? And what are you freaks planning to do to her? Huh? Stitch her wounds with what Kiara's hair tye? In the middle of the fucking oce-"

"Just- shut up! Cameron. I get it, okay? But I don't trust you people to just leave her here. That is way out of the option"

"So i guess you have a better idea, yeah? Look, I don't give a single shit if anything happens to you all, but you have to trust me when i say this Heyward. I'd rather that" he pointed at her wound "I'd rather be the one got wounded than seeing her like this. Please, I cant live witho-" he stopped himself.

"I can't live knowing i didn't do anything to save her Pope, and i think you do too" he said, his eyes gleaming with frustration and a desperate need to do something. Pope saw something he had never ever seen before, a side so out of character for the Cameron boy. God, a boy like Rafe wouldn't ever say the word please to anyone, let alone someone who is both a pogue and his enemy. Pope literally saw tears on his eyes through his own blurry vision.

Cleo was the one to act out, grabbing Pope by the shoulder whispering things as a sign to leave. They all knew the consequences that could occur if they dont act fast. And right now all of them were distracted enough to not cause any more trouble for both sides. It was a free pass for the pogues, and a guarantee for the cross's safety for Rafe.

"Just go, before i make the call. I don't care, use the lifeboat if you want." Rafe said before he knelt down, his hands hovering over Y/n's body for a second as if he were contemplating whether or not to touch her without any consent. He was a terrible human being, a mess, but not ever a person to take advantage of a woman. His mind flashed to the day he almost drowned Sarah, the guilt taking control of his emotion. He knew he was wrong, but it wasnt like he can control himself. He really needs help.

But he realized this was an urgent call as he decided to do it nonetheless. He scooped her up, trying to be as gentle as possible whilst holding her close to his chest as he stood up, his one hand opening his phone to call for backup bellow Y/n's body.

Both Pope and Cleo looked at him as they slowly walked backwards. "Just take care of her, if anything happens to her i swear to god we'll get you Rafe" and with that, Cleo pulled him further away from them and left, trying to find the others with hearts as heavy as stones.

To be continued...

Part III

NO SMUT YET BUT I PROMISE YALL ITS HAPPENING SOON

[webslingerofthegalaxy]

RANT TIME

Okay, unpopular opinion that no one asked for but I have nowhere else to vent it so you're stuck with it time. I HATE the animated trolls shows, The Beat Goes On and Trollstopia. With a burning passion. I will admit, TBGO wasn't as bad as Trollstopia imo, but it was still bad. Why, you may ask?

Allow me to explain.

First off, let's start with TBGO. Now, since this comes after the first movie and we don't have a lot of context beyond it, I let a lot slide. But the main transgression I have is that this show brought Creek back. CREEK. Of all the MISERABLE LOUSY PATHETIC COWARDS to resurrect, they picked CREEK. WHY. Why was this necessary???? He adds nothing to the story beyond an annoying presence that makes me want to hurl my device like Captain America's shield. AND THEN, they make Branch the bad guy for not trusting him immediately. OF COURSE HE DIDN'T TRUST CREEK, THE SLIMY POS SOLD EVERYONE OUT TO SAVE HIS OWN SKIN. DID EVERYONE FORGET THAT!?!?! And then this leads to Branch having to APOLOGIZE to Creek and then eventually to them sort of becoming friends. THIS WOULD NEVER HAPPEN. Every episode he was in I could feel myself losing braincells.

If you thought that was alot, stick around for my rant on Trollstopia because holy shit, where do I begin?

Now, the idea behind Trollstopia is actually a good one. Like hey, everyone is so spread out, how about a group from every tribe comes to live in the middle which happens to be Pop Village? Genius! And I will admit, in the beginning it seemed promising! And then, they fucked it up.

How, you may ask?

Simple. My point can be simplified to 2 main subjects:

They put WAAAYYYY too much effort into Poppy's relationships with literally EVERYONE ELSE and nowhere near enough into her relationship with Branch, HER BOYFRIEND.

They absolutely, totally, 110,000% DESTROYED Branch's character.

I shall now explain my stance. First off, we have point #1. Now, don't get me wrong. Poppy should absolutely have relationships with other trolls! She's the queen, for hair's sake! And I really did enjoy the fact that she made new friends and got really close with them. As someone who has eternally struggled with making and maintaining friendships, I loved seeing her do what I usually cannot. HOWEVER, this is no excuse to neglect her relationship with her actual fucking BOYFRIEND. Trollstopia takes place after TWT, after Branch and Poppy confessed and entered a relationship (if you wanna argue with me, look at the official Trolls Wiki, it'll back me up). But if you watch the show, you can barely tell they LIKE each other, let alone that they're dating. The show ran for 7 seasons and, out of those seasons, can anyone tell me a single episode where they were the focus? I won't even ask about them as a couple, just them interacting together being the focus! Poppy and her friends repeatedly bulldozed over Branch, his feelings, and his boundaries, constantly mocked him, and shit on anything he wanted to do. I swear at times it was like watching Trolls 1 Branch and Poppy interact.

Finally, my second point: Branch's character. They absolutely fucking took all of Branch's hard earned character development from 2 movies and a holiday special and went:

Wanna know how I know? What does Branch actually DO in Trollstopia? About every 10th episode, he shows up to offer a crappy sarcastic remark that pales in comparison to his usual ones and does one of 3 things:

Gets hurt

Gets made fun of

Acts like a total moron, and not in a cute way.

He's basically turned into Jay from the later seasons of Ninjago (my apologies Jay, I love you but you know it's true). I mean, in one episode he got his ass absolutely HANDED to him when he tried the rodeo! COME ON. The dude who caught a stick fired at him without looking and jumped in front of a death bolt to save Poppy got served by a fucking bull thing? Bullshit (no pun intended). To add onto this, when he's not being trampled and beaten for no fucking reason, he's being used for the most CRINGEWORTHY comedic relief. I mean really, there was a whole episode about how he wanted to be called a "cool nickname" by Lownote. Really? We really think that's in character? And to top it off, he gets stuck with "Skippy Two-Shoes". WHAT. THE. FUCK??? I almost had an aneurysm when I heard that. And everyone was fine with it!!!! Which leads into my last point, NO ONE GIVES A SHIT ABOUT HIM DESPITE THE FACT THAT HE SAVED POPPY AND IS HER FUCKING BOYFRIEND. There was a whole fucking episode about him getting all pissed off at the Techno Trolls for taking over his lagoon in his bunker (which I have to say I'm jealous he has) to have "raves" at like 4am. WHO WOULDN'T BE PISSED OFF??? My upstairs neighbors bang around at all fucking hours of the day and it drives me insane so I get why Branch is mad! BUT WHY DOES NO ONE ELSE? Why is it when he complains he gets told that he's being "unfair" and has to "share"? Fuck that, he was there first! It's not like Trollstopia isn't huge, they can find somewhere else to infest at 4am!

In conclusion, I hate the animated shows because they destroy the relationship between Branch and Poppy and demolish all of Branch's character development, reducing him to the annoying sidekick that always gets cheered at when they get hurt or die tragically.

End of rant. Thank you for sticking with me, I needed to get that off my shoulders. Branch is my favorite character and it infuriates me that he gets the short end of the stick all the time. Enjoy this as a reward:

[countlessrealities]

@mcltiples sent:

The portal opened up in the apartment. It's in the middle of the night. Definitely not the hour that someone should be visiting, yet, Morty can't help himself. He's drunk. A bottle of Scotch nearly emptied in his hand, swinging as he walked, legs wobbled.

He doesn't care what state that he finds his counterpart in. All he cared about were the words he rehearsed in his head. What he needed to say. That he drank to give him the courage to do so.

"M-Morty," He's too drunk to notice his own stutter. It's not something he's willing to control right now either. "I-I'm sorry, I realize the error of my ways. I've been an asshole to you. Th-This whole time, I've been trying to protect my feelings, to make you fall for me as I-I have with you. A-And it backfired, I-I've been an idiot,"

He stepped closer. "A-All I wanted was you, y-you're all I've ever wanted in someone a-and I fucked it up, I-I fucked everything up big time,"

Suddenly his legs gave out, ending up on his knees. That's when the tears came, flooding down his face. His lips quivered. "I-If you don't like me, just tell me, I-I'll understand. I-I'll get over it. I-I just need to know,"

Sobbing uncontrollably was something he hadn't done in a while. And now that it was happening, he couldn't stop it. "I-I just love you so much and I would do anything for you, but I-I can't seem to show you. I-It's hard. A-And I'm so tired of these games, I-I can't do it anymore. I-I don't want to be playing these games with you. I-I just want to love you....."

{ To your E-Morty from my E-Morty // i'm so sorry about this fdshjfkds }

The sound of a portal opening caught Morty off guard. The noise was as familiar as his own breathing by now, but he hadn't been expecting any guests that night. He had even dismissed his second-in-command, because he had wanted to be truly alone. There was so much ongoing inside him. So many thoughts, so many feelings. He had no idea of how to deal with them, but he refused to ask for help.

Not that he had anyone he could turn to. One of the only two people he trusted enough to show his vulnerable side to wouldn't have been able to give him advice. As for the other one, he was the very cause of his current inner turmoil.

Useless to say, finding himself faced with that one person caught him off guard, even if he wasn't as surprised as one might have thought. Deep down, he knew that this would happen. One of them would have given in, at some point. The tension and the distance between them had gotten just too much.

Still, he was glad that it hadn't been him, because crawling back to his other self, when the latter had been the one to hurt him, would have been admitting defeat. And that was a weakness he couldn't afford.

He remained quiet as his counterpart spoke, head tilted on one side and expression unreadable. Underneath the blank mask he was wearing, however, he was nowhere near as unaffected as he looked. The glass in his hand and the mostly empty bottle of Scotch on the coffee table betrayed the truth.

He managed not to react, not to how his other self was acting nor to his words, until his counterpart fell on his knees in front of him. He was crying, begging for forgiveness, professing his undying love to him with no shame.

Vulnerable. Weak. Pathetic.

And yet Morty's heart ached for him as it had never done for anyone before.

Taking in a slow, deep breath, he downed the remaining contents of his glass in one go, setting it down next to the bottle. His head was swimming, and it was hard to tell why. Was it the alcohol in his system? Or the emotions that were filling his chest, painfully constricting it? Probably both.

Gritting his teeth, he knelt down in turn, putting himself at the other's level. He hesitated just a second before reaching out, taking that face between his palms to coax his counterpart to glance up.

"Morty. Look at me," he said, half way between a request and an order. He didn't want to be too harsh, but he also refused to waste time on simple requests.

Patiently, he waited for his words to be followed before continuing.

"Yes, you hurt me. Even worse, you made me feel like all the efforts I've made for you, all the things I've confessed to you only, all the exceptions to my rules I've made for you...You made me feel like it all meant nothing to you."

Such a bitter feeling, having allowed himself to finally open up to someone, just to find himself set aside and devalued.

"You've been a fool. You've angered me, humiliated me, and being unable to show to me how much you actually care for me. We both played games, we both pulled that rope, but I made sure to never go too far. You, on the other hand, never seemed to want to return that favour."

He didn't try to hide the hint of resentment in his voice. And why should he? His other self obviously knew that he had fucked up, he was admitting that much. He deserved to stick his fingers in the bleeding wound. It was payback, an eye for and eye.

"I should be done with you. And, if you were anyone else, I would have locked you away and kept you as a tool to relieve my stress." A nameless living being he could torture whenever he felt like. "You don't realise how lucky you are."

Afte that, his expression softened, even if just imperceptibly. The next words were the trickiest, because they meant that he would be offering his unguarded heart one more time. One last time, one last chance.

"But I can't do that, not to you. Because I...I want you with me. I'm tired of all those games too. I'm bored with them, I'm fed up with them." Especially since they had been bringing him more pain than entertainment lately. "I want honesty, I was a sign that I can let you in. And you finally gave me one tonight."

He swallowed, shifting closer, eyes falling on those wet lips for the briefest moment.

"I'm not forgiving you...yet. But I refuse to let you go, Morty. Because, against my better judgement, I...I love you too."

He didn't wait for an answer, he couldn't bear to hear one right now. So, instead, he pressed forward, sealing their mouths together. A kiss full of longing, frustration, hurt, need, love. He wanted nothing more than to consume his counterpart, to make them one, so they could never be apart, never betray each other again.

If only...

He didn't break away until his lungs forced him, burning for the lack of oxygen, and when he did he made sure that their gazes could meet, amber orbs looking slightly unfocused.

"...Stay with me tonight. Tomorrow, we'll figure this out. For now, I'll let you love me. And I'll put your pieces back together."

[malsfefanfics]

Hubert and Rosamund C-Support

Summary: Rosamund has been put in charge of new recruits. Hubert tries to warn her about her tough love approach, only to find himself on the receiving end of her irritation.

Note: All Rosamund and Hubert Supports are only available in Part 2.

Written in Script format under the cut.

Rosamund: This is disappointing. You call this organized? I've seen newborn pups with more coordination than you lot! You call yourselves Imperial troops? What's with this aim? Pathetic. Is this really the best you have to offer our Empire?

Imperial Soldier: Shut up, brat. You think you can do better?

Imperial Archer: Just because you're Lord Hubert's sister doesn't mean you have the right to insult us!

Imperial Soldier: You're not better than us just because your brother said you should be training with us.

Rosamund: I don't insult you because I think I'm better than you by virtue of my blood. I worked hard for my skills. I don't think I'm better. I know I am.

Imperial Archer: Rather hard to believe, given how thin your arms are. You look more suited to sorcery than archery. Even Lady Bernadetta has stronger arms than you.

Rosamund: Is that right? …..Very well then. [ROSAMUND STANDS TO HER MARK, SENDING FIVE ARROWS AT THE TARGET MANNEQUIN, HITTING ALL VITAL SPOTS RAPIDLY] Still think I haven't earned my position?

Soldiers: ……

Rosamund: Once you can shoot faster than me and actually hit the kill points, then we can discuss my position as your training commander. Until then, quit the yammering and get your damn skills in order. If you need more incentive, the one who doesn't improve by the end of the week will be used as my personal target. I hear we're supposed to be getting a shipment of apples soon. Now, if you'll excuse me. [LEAVES THE TRAINING GROUNDS]

Hubert: My, that was rather harsh. Who knew my little sister could be so cruel to her own troops? Such a vicious demeanor.

Rosamund: They're not my troops. They're Her Majesty's. I'm simply doing my job as was instructed. They need to be battle ready, so I'm making sure they are. Just as you asked. There a problem with that?

Hubert: While I normally wouldn't mind such tactics to bolster the strength of our army, there have been complaints about your methods. At least three soldiers ended up in the infirmary after passing out from the stress. And several more have asked for transfers to the Northern Front just to get away from you.

Rosamund: It isn't my fault they keep overworking themselves. They refuse to listen. I gave them a regiment that was supposed to ensure they actually become useful at a safe pace. How else are they supposed to improve?

Hubert: I understand. Truth be told, if given the chance, I'd have them removed from our ranks completely. But alas, we are in need of the manpower.

Rosamund: So, what then? You're here to reprimand me? To tell me to actually go easy on them or else?

Hubert: No. Simply here to give a gentle warning to ease up on the new recruits just a little. They haven't had the same experiences as you or their other commanding officers. They need time to be broken in before they can grow.

Rosamund: I see… Just a 'gentle warning'…

Hubert: Is something the matter?

Rosamund: ….yes, there is. My brother and commanding officer is telling me how to do my job when he's nowhere near close to even a recruit's level in marksmanship with a bow. I highly recommend that he keeps his insomnia ridden corpse face out of my business and leave me to training, lest everyone begin to think I'm haunted by some mutilated specter.

Hubert: I beg your pardon?!

Rosamund: Beg all you like. If Her Majesty has an issue with my training, I'll tone it down. Otherwise, anyone who wants to complain about me needs to at least match me in skill. Now leave me alone. It's time for the hunting party to head out, and I don't trust Caspar to keep quiet long enough for us to restock the venison.

Hubert: Now hold on just a moment, Rosamund--

Rosamund: Saints, you're annoying. What else do you want from me? Are you really so lonely you need to hold up your own sister from her work? Don't you need to polish Her Majesty's armor or something.

Hubert: That's enough, Rosamund.

Rosamund: Oh no, the scary voice.

Hubert: I do not have the slightest idea as to what's going on with your attitude, but I will not allow-

Rosamund: Oh, I get it. You're talking to me as Marquis Vestra, not Hubert. Forgive me, your Lordship. I did not realize who it was I was speaking to. Pray forgive my insolence, Marquis Vestra.

Hubert: Do. Not. Refer to me as such ever again. Noble titles are meaningless here, especially between the two of us. As you once said, I'm your brother before I'm a Marquis. Do you understand?

Rosamund: Noted. I will refrain from addressing you as anything other than Hubert or Minister, then. Now, apologies, but I need to go. I'm already late, and dinner will be lacking otherwise. [WALKS AWAY]

Hubert: [WATCHES HER WALK AWAY BEFORE SIGHING, SHAKING HIS HEAD] Oh, Petal….what has happened to you? You used to be far more sweet…

[1rsoldiersince2012]

Bound by Law (Matt Murdock x reader)

Words: 1204 (chapter 4)

Summary:

You and Matt met in the courtroom. Now, you may think that Matt was a knight in shining armour and defended you in the name of all United States laws, but that was not the case. Matt was totally destroying your client, and you wanted to tear him into pieces right then and right there, because with Murdock as your rival, your head is on the firm's plate with each case. Did Matt care? No, he only cared about bringing justice, he was a human-machine, driven by the need to bring righteousness no matter the cost. Or was he just that? UPDATES EVERY FRIDAY

Find my other accounts on ao3 and wattpad under the same name <3  

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1rSoldierSince2012

wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/1rsoldierSince2012

4. Shadows of the Past

A shadow passes somewhere on the roof, unnoticed by the three men.

"Listen, dude, I told you, I'm out of the stock tonight. I'm getting something on Tuesday but Lil Marco is not someone to be trusted on the business." A guy with a brown jacket leans on the doors of the shabby motel and inhales the cigarette smoke.

"Yeah, Marco ain't the man. We gotta replace him." Another man with long, greasy hair nods aggressively, smoking as well.

"No other idiot would want to risk his ass when the cops keep sniffing everything around. Marco will deliver it on Tuesday, my word." The bald guy puts his phone in the pocket of his jeans and drops the cigarette on the ground.

"Ay, listen, man, what happened to you?" The brown jacket guy points to the bald man's cheek.

"Some crazy chick wanted to burn a hole in my face." The latter spits.

"Eh, Jeff, that's shitty man. Did you get back at her?" Greasy hair asks, looking very interested in the sudden change of the topic.

"Yeah," Jeff blows a raspberry, "of course. That bitch will have to wear makeup for the rest of her life."

"Damn, right. Can't let them get on your head. I swear, they keep getting crazier and crazier." Greasy hair laughs, also dropping his cigarette on the ground.

"Alright, gentlemen, see you on Tuesday. If Marco ain't delivering that cocaine, I'm going to hang him on his balls." Brown jacket looks around a couple of times and the gets inside, closing the door quickly.

"Aight man, don't get yourself killed, or burned." Greasy hair taps Jeff's shoulder and disappears behind the garbage cans.

"Fucking idiots." Jeff mutters and gets going, whistling under his breath. Upon reaching a tunnel that takes a sharp turn left, he is met with a fist to the face and, shocked, drops to the ground.

"Hey, Jeff." a gruff voice says out of nowhere, and just a second later, regaining his sight, Jeff notices a man dressed in black.

"What do you want? Who are you?" Jeff backs up into the wall, hands spread out, gripping the cold stone.

"It's not nice, lying, Jeff. It's also not nice harassing women." Matt throws another punch, this time to the stomach, and Jeff drops to his knees, groaning loudly.

"Leave me alone, you freak!" he rasps out, feeling as if the organs inside of him have been rearranged.

"Like you left that girl near the bar alone?" Matt grabs him by the collar of his jacket. "Delivering drugs? I wonder how many years you and your pathetic friends would get behind the bars." Matt punches him again, aiming at his face, which soon becomes all bloody.

"I swear I'm not in this shit, just let me go."

"I think, Jeff, you'd look nice in a hospital bed." Matt punches him again, and again, letting out the rage he kept since the accident in the bar. Jeff barely makes a sentence, spitting blood and a couple of teeth out, desperately gripping Matt's leg. "I ever see you out there doing shit again, I'm not going to be so merciful, you trash." Matt pushes him to the ground with force, hearing how Jeff struggles to breathe in, almost choking on his blood, and a look of disgust paints his face. On his way out of the tunnel, Matt kicks Jeff in the leg, earning another pained groan.

Devil's job was done, but Hell's Kitchen never sleeps.

*** You sleep restlessly, tossing and turning in your bed, feeling as if every piece of material of your mattress is burning your skin.

Weird thoughts reach you in your dream, but you can't make the sense of them. Living in the world of Avengers with alien threats hasn't made your life easier. When you weren't busying yourself with all the paperwork and cases, intrusive thoughts crawled in your head, and you felt like this hour was going to be your last one on Earth, and any minute a huge alien ship was going to land on your firm's roof and destroy the whole Manhattan.

You sit up and look at your hands in the darkness, illuminated by the shy lights of the city that reach your bedroom. For a split second there's something dark on them, a red color, dripping on your white covers and thus, destroying them. You feel the sensation of thickness on your palms and blink a couple of times. Everything returns back to normal again. Sighing loudly, you fall back onto your pillow, and rub your eyes furiously until you begin seeing stars and dots. Drinking nights were not the best, especially when you didn't have where to put the suddenly built-up energy that alcohol gave you a couple of hours after drinking.

You felt like you could run the marathon or punch someone in the throat. Like that guy outside Josie's. Maybe you should really invest into a pepper spray.

You felt the sudden urge to call your parents. Your dad, mostly. He was the one who expressed his feelings through mostly silent nods of approval or disappointed shakes of his head. He was the one who made you the person you are now. Someone who puts feelings in the last place. And you saw nothing wrong with it. If it didn't involve you, it wasn't your problem. Maybe that was one of the factors that played a big role in you getting a job in Hogarth, Chao and Benowitz. The other one was your daddy's money.

Retired at the 'young' age of 50, the former head of police department, and brilliant detective did what every parent would do - anything for his child. You felt like you were in eternal debt to him, but you knew deep inside - he wouldn't hesitate to do the same again. He inspired you to choose lawyer's career, to establish yourself in the field and earn a good name for yourself. Your mother was just proud of her child and was a typical housewife - phenomenal cooking skills and never ending bag of hugs and kisses. And not a very useful advice, pulled straight from the heart.

You never wanted to be like her. You desired to be like your dad. Respected, trusted and Stoic. And that's exactly what you became. Or were trying to become. Although, Matt's words about your lack of compassion really didn't make things better.

Why did you care about what that catholic guy said about you? You never cared about what anyone had to say about you. Well, at first you did, until you... Didn't.

Maybe this was because Matt took a punch to his face? He didn't have to. You were perfectly handling things yourself. Probably.

You toss to the other side of the bed, cursing how big it is. Since your return to Hell's Kitchen, you lived alone, in this huge bed. Maybe you should really adopt a cat. Someone to keep you company in nights like this.

Uneasy feeling fills your chest. Something had happened. Something the news will talk about this week. The beginning of something much, much bigger.

While you finally succumb to sleep, Matt makes his way to the church. Ready to pour out his heart in a confession. Because Father is the only one he trusts with his deepest secrets. For now.

[greetingfromthedead]

C55: United Again

For more information on the series (tags, CW, etc) click the banner!

Series Rating: 18+ / Explicit

Chapter: 55/84

Words: 1.8k

No particular warnings for this chapter.

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Vash had avoided letting you out of his sight; he even looked for excuses like going to the biodome and taking care of the toma to keep you from getting dragged into the rabbit hole of research and experiments with Luida.

"I don't mind." You laugh as he finally confesses why he has been glued to you all evening. "I like her, and it's all so interesting. She's like a window to a different life of mine, while I was nowhere near as good of a person as she is... It's still nice. I trust her completely, so she doesn't trigger any bad memories. It's strange, but then again, most things about me are so..."

You pet the neck of Vash's tomas, who is making cooing sounds by your ear.

"That's not what I meant... but now I feel guilty for dragging you away..." Vash looks at his feet, and he looks a bit pathetic, making you giggle.

"What did you mean then?" your smile clear in your voice.

"Just that I wanted you to myself," he mumbles, still looking at his feet. "I might have gotten a bit jealous... You had so much fun with her, and I only got in the way, so I wanted to have some time with you for myself..."

Your expression softens further, and it melts your heart. You feel a little bad because it's true that Vash was left out of your activities today. You step closer, leaving the tomas to nip at your shirt, and go up to him. You stand toe to toe and use your fingers to lift up his chin. He avoids your eyes at first but then locks his baby blues with your gaze.

"I'm sorry you felt left out." Your hand moves to stroke over his face. "While I was happy spending time with Luida, nothing in this world compares to you. My nature doesn't matter; my past doesn't matter; I would trade in all my yesterdays for a future with you."

"You always say the sweetest things." His thumb runs down your lips onto your chin. "I'm just so happy to see you better. You scared me so much for a while, I thought I was going to lose you."

"I'd always come back to you, silly!" You smile wide at him.

"I'm afraid." He sighs silently, and his eyes go down again.

"Of what?" Your fingers reach into his hair and pull his forehead against yours.

"Of the future," he presses his eyes shut tight. "We don't know what the future brings and... what I have to do... I want to keep you safe. I want to keep everyone safe. No, I need to keep everyone safe. But I don't know what it will cost. What if it costs everything? What if it costs the future with you..."

"You said you could never leave me. So don't think about that. Make a promise; swear it. Swear that you'll always find your way back to me."

Vash pauses for a moment, one of his hands still touching your chin, the other resting on your hip. He takes a deep breath, his eyes still closed.

"I swear to you, my Stardust, my lovely Iris, that I will always find a way to come back to you. I will be with you. For an eternity."

"Look at me," you say softly as you release his hair. When Vash opens his eyes, he is met with yours, and he lifts his forehead. You take both of his hands, intertwining your fingers, and then press them against your heart without losing eye contact. "I promise you that I will be safe; nothing bad that happens to me is your fault, and I will always, always come back to you. No matter what, I will be with you. For an eternity."

He looks at you tenderly as you declare your promise and then presses his lips onto yours, his grip on your hand tightening.

"See? There's nothing to be afraid of now," you say as he pulls away. "I don't make promises that I don't intend to keep, and you're Vash the Stampede; you always keep your promises. So we're in the clear. Whatever it may cost, it can't cost our future."

"Maybe Mary was right after all; I should have gotten you that ring then and there," he smiles.

"Hold your horses, cowboy!" You let out a laugh, squeezing his hands. "At the very least, don't propose by the toma pen; yours will get awfully jealous!"

As night fell and you and Vash are the only ones left roaming the spaceship, you go back to the biodome. In the dark, it looks a lot different than it did just a few hours ago. He holds your hand and guides you along the paths, your eyes moving between the gorgeous flowers, which you could swear are lightly glowing, and the sky above, with hundreds of thousands of distant lights shining in through the glass roof, but they are nearly outshined by the large moons, emanating their different colored hues. There are no artificial lights under the dome, and you don't need any. You see everything clearly: the flowing stream, the little cornflowers and forget-me-nots, periwinkles and lupines, and so many more species of flowers whose names you don't know. You look over the lush grass and the tall trees. The greenery surrounding you feels like home, even if it is so different from the ancient forests you grew up in. The little stream here is too tame to compare to the river by your house. Finally, you can connect your feelings to memories—the same ones that have been locked away for so long. Despite everything, the man holding your hand is more important; his grip, the warmth he brings into your heart, the now outweigh all the rest. You meant it when you said you would trade your past in for a future with him.

You see Vash's free hand moving to the inside of his jacket, and he grabs something from his pocket. You hadn't noticed him carrying anything, so it fills you with curiosity. You try to peek around him, even over his shoulder, but you don't catch a glimpse of anything new.

"What have you got there?" You ask as you go closer; no longer behind him, you still don't see into his hand.

"Just be patient," he says, smiling at you. He left his glasses in his room with the shoulder guard.

"Mh!" you let out a displeased sound and try the same trick he has pulled on you a number of times: puppy dog eyes.

"You are very cute, but if anything, I won't tell you what I have here just to see more of this," he chuckles.

"You're impossible!"

He just continues his laugh and guides you to a little flat spot by a tree. He lets go of your hand and takes a few more steps before squatting down by the trunk of the tree. You are left waiting with curiosity as he places something on the ground and fiddles with it. Suddenly you hear the familiar click, and before even the music starts to play, you recognize it as Vash's little radio. He turns the knob until he is satisfied with the station's choice of music and straightens up. Vash takes off his large red coat and leaves it on the grass.

You see the moonlight dancing in his eyes as he turns towards you. His hand reached towards you, palm up as an invitation. He closes the gap between you with a few long steps and bows to you.

"M'lady! Would you graciously allow me this dance?" His gaze is cheeky as he looks up to see your reaction.

"It would be my honor, oh handsome knight!" You smile brightly and place your hand into his.

Vash's grip tightens, and he pulls you closer, placing his hand on your waist and yours lands near his shoulder. This time, he doesn't drag you into a wide and swooping waltz where you can't hope to keep up with his enormous and exaggerated strides, leggy as he is. Instead, he sways gently, mostly staying in place, only turning a tiny bit with each step. He moves your hand—that's in his—to his lips and gives your knuckles a kiss. He keeps in time with the music, his eyes lovingly on yours.

"I've been meaning to ask... Why do you enjoy dancing so much?" You inquire with a smile.

"It was Rem who taught me how to. She loved all those things: books, music, art, dancing. They meant a lot to her, so they do to me too." His eyes are so soft before they get a mischievous glint. "Also, most girls in the saloons like to dance; it has always been a good way to get a smooch!"

He laughs at your disapproving expression and places a kiss on your cheek. His nose traces to your ear.

"But you're the only girl for me, my love!" He takes a deep breath in, still by your ear. "I have a feeling that the whole universe conspired just to cross our paths. I adore you."

He straightens up again, still swaying the both of you in time to the tunes. His hand on your waist pulls you closer, the fingers gripping you tighter.

"The feelings you wake in me, the longing and love you bring forth, I have never felt like this ever before; never have I loved like this, so deeply, so passionately." He smiles tenderly. "I will try for the rest of my days to make you happy, so if I stumble and fall and make a fool of myself... please forgive me."

"You have nothing to worry about," you laugh lightly. "You are the kindest, most selfless soul I've met, and I too am a stranger to love like this. We will both try our best; we will learn, and we most likely will fail at some point, but we will try again and do better."

He lets go of your waist, takes a step back, and twirls you around before catching you in his embrace again, his hand tighter and more around you. As you look up, you see his gaze isn't on you; instead, it is upturned, and you too look into the night sky.

"Do you see her, Rem? Isn't she wonderful?" You see his teeth bare in a wide smile. "You would have liked her, I'm sure. If only you could have met her..."

You notice a stray tear roll down from the corner of his eye, but there is no sadness in his voice—not really. It's acceptance and just a wishful thought.

"At least I have met her," you say quietly. "You carry so much of her in you; it feels like I know her. I am grateful to her. I know she would be so proud of you."

For more information and chapters, check out the MASTERLIST.

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[foosybit]

Mayoi in PriPara Outfits Part 3

This is the last suuuuper long post of me wondering what pripara outfits mayoi might wanna wear ! If you're somehow here without coming from part 1 or 2 (since again, i wont be tagging this....) here should be a link to part 1 and also part 2 (sorry again foosybit followers for triple posting)

Please congratulate mr placeholder for coming this far, he's really putting the best work out there im so thankful he's here with us. also there'll be more brands other than holic trick now (even if it's still the main brand) so i'll be naming the brand in all of them

Gaarmageddon Red Dia from Love Devi !! a card theme was present in an outfit i would die if i didnt draw it. no original masc version cuz it's literally a card wonderland theme so say hi to pathetic pushed over vermilion mayoi. also at this point i was admittedly getting quite pooped from all the drawing so unless i really wanted to see something i just didnt do it lol

Hello ninja association again, no brand for this one cuz it's actually from a merch line so idk if it even exists outside the merch line ?? Which. Lets slow down a bit lemme tell u my shock when i find out that not only is there boypara but theres a ninja idol boy with partially yellow hair ???!?!!?!???! shinobu come pick up ur little bro he's out here performing in a wrestling ring !!!!!! so of course i listen to all the grand total of 2 songs he has and try to find all the images i can of ushimitsu (name of the ninja boy) and find this silly merch line where he gets to work at the ninja monja (which i believe is established as a thing he actually does if the wiki trivia section is to be trusted cuz as i said im nowhere near learning about him thru the show or stage play or whatever)

what the hell look at this dam ninja i am literally nowhere near learning anything about him considering im not even at episode 100 yet meanwhile the episode featuring ushimitsu just barely came out recently on the pripara yt but hes so my fav and hes also the blue one in a duo that works at ninja monja which is just like dorothy west i love dorothy west i love dressing pafe someone any pripara enstars fans out here do u get me do u feel me do u understand that by me saying this u can already guess i like 2wink and souma do u understand how it all connects AAHHHRG i might explode if i keep talking so lemme stop here while i can

back to the drawing, shinobus having the time of his life spinning that omelette good 4 him and mayois been delegated to rice ball duty lol loser

Lady Pirate from Holic Trick !! say hi to origin of mr placeholder !!!! hiiiiii !!!! uve been working so hard how does it feel to be home u better cherish it cuz ur coming back later, luv u mr placeholder. but ya self explanatory why i chose this outfit

Gothic Lace from Holic Trick !! hes such a pretty boy thats all i have to say for this

Adult Jumper from Pretty Rhythm (the brand in pripara) !! such a sweet and simple coord i dont think it needs a second version :]

Aromat Card Aroma from Love Devi !! it looks like the original has tarot cards but a card's a card in my book so they got the symbols. honestly it's mostly just me vaguely tasking inspiration from the original to create my own outfit but whateva im near the end and im having fun and i really liked this one so woohoo !!!! also that dress length is supposed to go to the ankle, it's just scrunched up rn hehe

Moonlight Purple from Baby Monster !! Last one !!!! I think the pripara characters deserve to have bigger hats dam !!! I think this is a very pretty outfit hehehe he's bound to get little shorts like these some day (me hoping and praying) !!!!

not one that i did cuz im too exhausted from all the drawing but i thought u needed to see this and imagine ninja association, kitty kitty meow meow ninja mayoi is so real in my head

wahoo thanks for going thru the whole thing !!! I feel like u can reeaallly obviously tell which of mayoi's aesthetics are the ones i like the most lol are any of us surprised that my favorite 5star of his is his feature scout ^_^ BTW!! if any of u want me to draw any enstars character in any pripara outfit I WILL SO DO IT !!!!!! or even aikatsu outfit hehe cuz i'm also quite attached to that :] altho i may take a while cuz college is about 2 start orz rip my free time !!

one last thing b4 y'all leave !! ya as i just implied, i actually watched a bit of aikatsu (enough to get to the second protag is all i remember) i just ended up with a greater attachment to pripara cuz it was my very very first anime, but yea yurika's eternally flickering flame go listen to it and imagine it's mayoi maybe even wearing his fs trust me on this one u have to experience it please please please please heres the full version too (no shade to the vers w ozora i just think yurika fits mayois voice more), anyway im on my knees begging for this to be what his solo ends up like just cover the song it'll be fine no one will notice trust me mayoi u gotta sing this

[badlandsatlove]

I think I want to talk about Taylor Swift on my main blog so badly because I trust and like a lot of people over there and I want them to understand that their vitriol toward an artist I like is frustrating and unfair and honestly kind of pathetic and hypocritical

I could write a 10 page essay on how fandoms I've been in twice as long as I've been a swiftie are nearly as weird as the swifties are

but here's the thing

the other main reason I want to talk about Taylor Swift on my main blog is that I don't want to have a Taylor Swift blog and have to follow other Taylor Swift blogs because shit be crazy over there sometimes

I love her music, I think she's incredible, I KNOW she's the fucking GOAT and I'm vibrating with excitement just thinking about my upcoming Eras tour date, but I also don't love every thing she's ever done, including recently, and I don't think all of her music is good and she's nowhere near my #1 pop artist (hence this blog being Halsey-themed)

A lot of the things I see some Swifties praise/admire her for or celebrate about her or even just gleefully assume about her are things I don't like at best and while that could comfortably be a difference of opinion, the notes on those posts, as well as the language, tend to make me feel like I am going against a consensus that going against earns me a warning from an army

I want to celebrate the art I enjoy from an artist I admire but I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place where the internet spaces I've been a part of since before I knew of Taylor Swift (aka right before debut) are overrun with snooty, pretentious takes that are honestly correct at times and the spaces I would like to enjoy as a fan of Taylor Swift who lived through the Wildest Dreams video, who jolted with confused excitement at the media blackout and first snake video, who grimaced through the Lover rollout, who hugged folklore during some really rough times and still tears up when I hear seven... those online spaces just don't exist for me, anywhere, as far I've searched for them. and I've searched quite far!

I think, honestly, at this point, I am going to Eras just to get it out of my system

I have been to some epic tours in my time but nothing seems so epic as a 3+ hour celebration of nearly 20 years of music from the greatest songwriter of my generation

I want to see Paramore, one of the greatest bands of their time, one of the most important bands of my life, whose lead singer Hayley has been friends with Taylor for 15 years, open for her and feel the energy of many tens of thousands screaming to their hits in a way I haven't seen and felt before

I want to experience that elation and joy and pure euphoria of hearing songs I've memorized and that have mesmerized me echo through the throats and hearts of even more people, pouring out into the sky of a major city with incomparable exuberance and once-in-a-lifetime vigor

but I don't see this claustrophobic, exhausting feeling of being a fan of Taylor Swift when I neither praise nor condemn the ground she walks on going away if I keep engaging online

maybe it's a me problem. maybe she's reached a point of stardom that I can't interface with on a regular basis. I dunno. but come the end of August, I might just leave and never look back.

or maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll find my place amongst the strangest, most dedicated, most insufferable, most passionate fanbase of all time

[luveline]

being away from rockstar!remus for a while and when you meet again he refuses to leave your side, the boys teasing him about it?

remus clingy bf forever ♡ fem!reader

You can't even stand up when Remus gets like this. He clings to your waist and moans something unintelligible, forcing you to sit back down. You laugh as you land. 

"I need to pee!" you inform him crassly. 

He wraps his arms around you like two steel bars. "I don't care." 

"That's sick. You're a sicko." 

"It is sick," Sirius says, sounding nowhere near as fond. "Remus, can we borrow you?" 

Remus doesn't even look up at Sirius in the door as he heaves his face into your lap. You pet his hair amusedly. 

"Remus," his pouty friend says, "this is really quite pathetic." 

"Don't be jealous." 

"While your girlfriend is lovely," Sirius says, and you know he means it genuinely, "we have things to do." 

"Do them without me." 

Sirius looks at you pleadingly. You feel for him, but if Remus wants to lay in your lap all day you're not gonna discourage that. 

Sirius pushes a hand over the top of his head and tousles the mess of dark curls there, sighing. You slouch down into the seat and wrap your arms around Remus' back as if shielding him from his bandmates disdain. 

James appears. "What the fuck is taking so long?" 

"He's being pathetic." 

"What's pathetic about being in love?" Remus asks. 

Both Sirius and James start to protest loudly and at the same time, loud sounds rather than words. It's not the first time Remus' has been booed and he takes no notice. You giggle, thrilled at their disgust and Remus' touching. His cheek nuzzles against your thigh.

"Fuck off," Remus says finally. "I'm not coming." 

James blows you a kiss and leaves. Sirius tries to look mad as he follows, but you can tell he's happy for Remus' happiness, no matter how much of a spanner it might throw into the works. 

You lean down to whisper in his ear. "They left." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yep, they're gone." 

He turns his head toward you and pulls at the back of your neck until you indulge him and lean down for a kiss. 

"You really-" a kiss, "should go-" another, "and do what they need you to do," you say. 

"What they need me to do is a bunch of nothing," he mumbles into your lips.

His kisses are warm and sweet and a little too eager. Each of them reads as the same confession: I missed you. You scratch your nails gently over the back of his neck and move your lips to the corner of his mouth, eyes closed. "Nothing, hm?" 

"I'm not even lying to stay here. Though I absolutely would," he adds quickly. "They just want me to overlook on production 'cos they don't trust Frank and they'll both argue about the new mix." 

"I don't really understand." 

He nods and gives you another kiss. "Good thing you don't," he says, dropping his head onto your chest, "ignore me. My point is, I'm staying right here."

[noxiousaffection]

fem kylar knows exactly how to soothe your raging period cramps

⚠️ cw: period cunnilingus, kylar being gross, slight dubcon ⚠️

1,579 words

If you were to ask Kylar what she loved most about you, she wouldn’t be able to choose. She loves all of you; your laugh, your hair, how you walk, and especially your scent. Nothing turns her on more than your natural scent. She knows it well, has it ingrained to memory. Oh, she just can’t enough of it, can’t get enough of you.

A low groan that sounds an awful lot like you has her offering a discreet, yet curious, glance in your direction. You’re clutching your stomach, brows scrunched, and staring blankly at your desk. It’s not until you reposition your legs and an all too familiar scent tickles her nose that it clicks.

Dropping her pencil, her hand shoots up to stifle a moan. It’s almost too much for her. What a pathetic display that would be, coming undone from just your smell alone. It’s not her fault, though. She can’t help herself when it comes to you. You just smell so good right now.

She instinctively clenches her thighs together, desperately wishing she could stick her hands between them. It’s tantalizing, being mere inches from the source of her arousal and unable to satiate her thirst. Doren’s monologue offers no reprieve from her titillating thoughts.

She almost misses when Doren asks the class if anyone would mind escorting you to the nurse, thoroughly distracted by the ache between her thighs. Her chair scrapes harshly against the classroom floor with how fast she shoots up to volunteer. She’d be a fool to pass up on this.

Gingerly taking your hand, she guides you out to the hall. With just the two of you, your scent overwhelms her senses and she’s hardly able to contain her excitement.

“Ah, sorry for dragging you along. I’m having the worst cramps right now. I think there are bees waging war in my uterus, ya know?” You offer her a light smile and Kylar’s heart leaps in her chest.

You’re so perfect it hurts. You must be doing this on purpose, must know what you’re doing to her. She bets you planned this all out, planned to rile her up like this. Don’t worry, she’ll be a good girlfriend and give you exactly what you want. It’s only fair, you deserve it for being so good to her.

She hastens her steps, all but dragging you behind her. She can’t wait any longer, she needs you now. You need her too. She can help you, you can help each other.

“Hey, Kylar, we passed the nurse’s office.” She knows. “Kylar, where are we going? Where are you taking me?” You’ll see.

“Kylar, why are we in the bathroom?”

Kylar finally looks back at you, hand still wrapped snuggly around your wrist. She wants to touch more of you, all of you. She wants to feel you inside and out, that way you’ll really be hers.

“I can make you feel better.” Her voice is low and breathy as she corners you between the sink and herself. The porcelain is smooth against her palms, but nowhere near as smooth as your skin. Eyes locked onto her target, she’s practically vibrating with excitement.

“I don’t follow.” You sound confused, but that doesn’t make sense. You planned this all out, after all. You must be pretending not to know, then. That’s okay, Kylar can play along. She didn’t know you liked to roleplay; she’ll keep it in mind for later.

She falls to her knees, never losing eye contact. “I heard that orgasms can relieve period cramps. You trust me, don’t you? Let me help you.”

Your eyes are blown wide with disbelief, face reddening even before she finishes talking. Kylar wonders what you’re thinking. She hopes she’s doing this right, she’s never roleplayed before. You can help her practice, though. You’re nice like that.

You fumble your words, unable to form a complete sentence. “I-I don’t…that’s…uh…” You’re such a good actor, she almost forgot you were pretending. You really are perfect at everything, aren’t you?

She barely registers her next words, too drunk off your scent to control herself anymore. “You make me feel so good all the time, let me return the favor. I wanna make you feel good, wanna spoil you. Please?” With pleading eyes like those, how could you possibly say no?

You don’t stop her when she plants her hands on your hips, nor do you push her away when she nuzzles her face into your skirt and inhales deeply. She wouldn’t have let you anyway. You have to finish what you started now.

She sits there for a moment before deciding that breathing you in simply not enough. She needs more. She needs to be closer, has to be.

She begins to tug at your skirt waistband when your sweet voice grabs her attention. “Wait!” You aren’t planning on asking her to stop, are you? That would be too cruel. “Shouldn’t we…uhm…take this to a stall?” Oh. That’s all? Kylar knew you wouldn’t do that to her, you love her too much. You haven’t said it yet, but moments like these are all that she needs to know it.

She doesn’t respond, only grips more tightly onto your hips. A dirty part of her hopes somebody walks in. She wants everybody to know you’re hers and she yours. You don’t think you can convince her, so you don’t bother asking again.

Your skirt soon hangs limply around your left ankle, Kylar takes her time to observe your panties. You’re wearing her favorite pair, now she’s certain you planned this out.

Time seems to slow as she works your panties down your legs. She wants to savor this moment forever, wants to memorize every little detail; how the fabric contrasts against your skin, how the flickering bathroom lights illuminate your flushed face, how your breath hitches slightly when she gently tugs out your tampon, everything.

She silently reminds herself not to forget your tampon, a memorabilia of this euphoric occasion. She doesn’t carry a plastic baggie on her person at all times for nothing, you know? It’s not that she minds getting messy, just that discretion is key. She’s learned that hard way.

With your panties cast aside, she wastes no time nuzzling back into you. God, you smell even better without all that fabric in the way. You probably taste just as good. Kylar wants nothing more than to just dive right in, but this isn’t isn’t about her.

Unhurriedly, so as not to startle you, Kylar sets your right leg on her shoulder for easy access. She gives your inner thighs an experimental lick, testing the waters. Kylar wonders where she should mark you. Everybody should see how much you love each other, after all. You do love her, don’t you? Of course you do, that’s why you haven’t stopped her yet, why you won’t.

Goosebumps take shape as she gently nips at your skin. Her tongue ever so slowly works up to your lips, gently caressing your sides with her hands. She spares a glance back up, realizing just how cute you look from down here, flustered and mouth slightly agape. If only she had a camera to immortalize this moment. It’s okay, Kylar won’t ever forget this. She’ll think about it every time she goes to touch herself from now on.

It’s music to her ears, the way your breath hitches when she dips into your folds. She wants to hear more of you, unfiltered and raw. If she tries hard enough, maybe she’ll get you to scream for her, scream her name. Her grip on your sides tightens at that thought, no doubt leaving bruises. She really hopes it does.

Blood mixes with arousal and Kylar knows she was right; nothing holds a candle to how delicious you taste right now. She eagerly laps at your juices, not wasting even a drop. Kylar is anything but wasteful.

She knows she’s doing something right when you buck into her face and your walls tighten around her tongue. Shuddering pants and whimpers bounce off the walls of the bathroom, a beautiful melody that leaves her panties soaked and her own pussy aching for attention.

You’re too caught up in pleasure to notice one of her hands leaving your side to satiate her need. You wouldn’t mind, anyway. She knows it. You’ve never minded before, always her sweet, perfect angel.

Kylar almost loses it when your hands tangle into her hair and her name leaves your lips, begging desperately.

“Please, please, please, please please, Kylar. Fuck, please don’t stop.” Usually she prefers making eye contact, but you look so good right now with your head thrown back and eyes knitted tightly together.

Thighs shaking, core tightening, and choked cries echoing out into the halls , you both finally reach that high you’ve been chasing. Kylar doesn’t stop until your trembles subside, threatening to overstimulate you.

Her face is positively soaked when she finally pulls away, lips and chin painted an intimate red. Panting heavily, she realizes how lightheaded she is. If you weren’t so delicious, maybe she wouldn’t have forgotten to breath. So really, it’s your fault. That’s okay, you can make it up to her right now. Just let her do what she wants, okay?

“Kylar, that was my last tampon.”

She doesn’t say anything, but from the way she eyes your pussy, you get the strange feeling that you won’t be needing one ever again.

[xutokawa]

s/o finding scratch marks on their back

pairings: atsumu x reader, oikawa x reader

genre(s): angst, fluff in beginning, cheating s/o

warnings: langauge, cheating, allusions to smut, mentions of alcohol

wc: 1.6k

» masterlist

a/n: i feel like writing some angst and nothing says angst like an s/o finding out their partner is cheating :’) send requests for other haikyuu characters if you want some more! i already have a couple drafted up hehe

osamu and iwazumi ver.

kuroo and sakusa ver.

suna and bokuto ver.

akaashi and hinata ver.

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Atsumu

Curling yourself into a ball, you tightly clenched at the blanket, trying to imagine Atsumu’s warmth surrounding you. You dearly missed your husband, touch-starved from not seeing him for two days. A smile spread across your face knowing that he would be in your arms again in a couple hours.

You knew dating a pro-volleyball player would mean nights alone in your shared apartment. It was hard at first, but you slowly got used to it, knowing he would walk through the front door and come back home to you.

Later that day, you were quietly humming to yourself while cooking dinner for Atsumu and yourself when you heard the doorknob jiggling followed by the sound of keys. Excitement and anticipation coursed through your body as you quickly went to greet your husband at the door. As soon as the door opened to reveal the blond setter, you rushed into his arms.

“Y/n,” Atsumu breathed into your hair, holding you tight, “I missed you so much.”

Snuggling into his chest, you replied, “I missed you too.”

Pulling away, you looked up at him, “Dinner’s almost ready. Go wash up first.” 

Atsumu placed a quick kiss on your forehead, muttering a quick I love you before picking up his bags and heading towards your bedroom.

Hearing the shower turn on, you returned to cooking. Hands dry from washing the dishes, you decided to go grab some lotion, heading into the bathroom. You stopped dead in your tracks, however, when you glanced at Atsumu. 

Back turned towards you, the setter was unaware of your presence in the bathroom. Red, angry marks lined his broad shoulders as hickeys were dotted across his neck. You hadn’t even realized you were crying until your vision started blurring. Quickly slipping out of the bathroom, you went into your shared bedroom, packing a small bag with your belongings. Silent sobs racked your body as you imagined Atsumu’s breath on another’s neck, whispering sweet nothings into their ears as he gave himself away to them. 

You couldn’t believe it. Your husband, your Atsumu. More than anything, you wanted to know why? What did you not give? Was your marriage worth nothing to him? Texting your best friend, you told them you’d be staying at their house for the night, not offering further explanation. 

Did he mean it when he proclaimed his love earlier? You couldn’t help but wonder how many times he’s done this. How many times has he betrayed your trust, indulged in another person as you patiently waited for his return. Scoffing in anger, you hastily pulled your ring off your left hand, placing it on his bedside table along with a note. Anger surged through your body as you stared at the diamond gleaming at you, memories of the day Atsumu got down on one knee as he asked to spend the rest of his life with you flooding back. That day, you left, never turning back, putting the past five years with Atsumu behind you.

The apartment was noticeably colder when Atsumu finally stepped out of the shower. Quickly changing, he walked out to the kitchen, craving your embrace. He couldn’t wait to sit down and just talk, maybe cuddle and watch a movie until the both of you fell asleep in each other’s arms. The setter missed you dearly during his time away, and he wanted to make up for lost time. However, you were nowhere to be found. He searched through the entire apartment only to be met with silence. 

Maybe she went out to buy something, Atsumu thought to himself. His thoughts were interrupted, however, when he noticed a note on his nightstand. 

‘I’ll be gone for a couple of days. I’ll eventually come back for the rest of my stuff, but I just can’t bear to see you right now. I hope it was worth it. Glad to know our marriage was worth dog shit to you. Don’t come looking for me, the last thing I want to see is you right now.’

The note in the setter’s hands began to shake as he glanced at your wedding ring on the table. He thought he heard the door open in the shower earlier, but didn’t think much of it. It was only when his shampoo ran down his back that he realized he had marks on his back. Atsumu knew he messed up as soon as the deed was over. Your comforting smile continuously flashed through his mind as he pulled his shirt back over his head. He felt sick to his stomach opening his phone to find a text from you telling him to take care of himself when another person’s scent lingered on him. 

He couldn’t lose you. He needed to find you, tell you it was all a drunken mistake. It was the alcohol, not him. The thought of you despising him made the setter choke out a sob, rushing out the door in hopes to catch up to you. It didn’t mean anything to him. It was getting too lonely without you, and he indulged in alcohol in hopes to fill the void. His eyes searched frantically, legs and lungs burning from running down countless flights of steps, hoping to catch a glance of you and bring you back him.

But it was too late. It was over. Atsumu already ruined everything.

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Oikawa

Frustration boiled through Oikawa as he rubbed his hands over his face. He didn’t mean to lash out at you, after all, you were just being a caring partner. Concerns for the setter’s health turned into a full-blown argument resulting with you in tears and Oikawa at a local bar, drowning his misery in liquor. His state of mind grew foggier with each shot he downed. So when the scent of perfume engulfed his senses as seductive whispers filled his ears, he gave in.

You were waken up by the sound of a clatter coming from the kitchen followed by a loud ‘fuck!’ 

Groggily, you glanced at the alarm clock on your nightstand.

12:47am

Heading towards the source of noise, you found your boyfriend curled in a ball on the ground. The stench of alcohol overwhelmed your nostrils as you attempted to get your boyfriend to stand. 

You couldn’t help but smile at the ‘I’m so sorry, y/n’s and the ‘Please forgive me’s coming out of your boyfriend’s mouth, assuming he was referring to your earlier argument. Sighing, you laid him down on your mattress, walking towards his closet to grab his pajamas. With great struggle, you successfully peeled the shirt from Oikawa’s back before he flopped back down on the mattress. Preparing to shove his night shirt over his head, your movements froze as you took in the claw marks running down his back. Blood running cold, you glanced at the setter’s face, seemingly peaceful as he slept. 

Anger coursed through your veins at the thought of him running into another person’s arms when your relationship got a little tough.

Pathetic.

You scoffed as you threw his shirt on the ground. Blinded by rage, your mind didn’t register your hand coming in contact with his cheek.

A loud smack sounded through the empty night as Oikawa’s eyes shot open.

“You piece of shit,” you venomously spit out.

Confusion visible clouded Oikawa’s eyes as he began adjusting to his surroundings, obviously sobering up.

“Y-y/n, what was that for?” Oikawa began sitting up, eyebrows furrowed together.

“So what, we have one argument and you decide to go fuck some random person?” You raised your voice at the man sitting in front of you.

“What are you talking about? I didn’t-”

“Cut the crap, Oikawa,” ignoring the pain flashing through Oikawa’s eyes at the use of his last name, “The hickey on your neck and scratch marks are more than enough proof that you cheated on me.” 

Panic flashed in Oikawa’s eyes as he realized what was happening, the gravity of the situation registering in his mind. He cheated on you.

“I-” Oikawa stuttered, words getting stuck in his throat at the thought of losing you. He couldn’t even make excuses, knowing he had been caught red-handed in his infidelity. 

“I’m staying in a hotel for the rest of the night. I’m coming back tomorrow afternoon, and your shit better be out of here by then,” your eyes hardened as you turned around, beginning to pack a small bag with essential belongings. Panic rose in Oikawa as he scrambled to stop you.

“Wait, y/n, let’s talk this out,” Oikawa pleaded, tears welling in his eyes, “We can fix this, right? You can’t leave me, I love you!”

The setter’s heart shattered as you flinched away from his touch, as if it physically hurt you to be near him.

“If you truly loved me, you wouldn’t have cheated on me,” you managed to choke out, zipping up your bag. 

“I do love you, y/n! Please, believe me,” Oikawa desperately pleaded, sobs racking his body, “I didn’t mean to! It didn’t mean anything, y/n, I can fix this, I promise!”

“You seem to have a habit of breaking your promises, Oikawa,” your voice audibly weaker. You needed to get away from him, away from the source of your heartbreak. 

“Y/n, wait! Please-” Oikawa’s voice was cut off by the slam of the front door. 

It wasn’t until 47 missed calls, 118 messages, and 32 voicemails later, that Oikawa realized you were never coming back to him. You had walked out of his life forever, and it was all his fault.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

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