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#what then. is it still wrong if the tyrant is kind
specterthief · 1 year
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also on the subject of maruki and shido, this isn't quite as 1:1 a comparison as in akechi's cut third awakening, but there is still a direct link between them through the fact that maruki's research was stolen by shido – shido's knowledge of the metaverse and cognitive psience come in part from maruki directly
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the professor of maruki's who shut down his research was doing it in connection with shido (an earlier iteration of this scene even had akechi note that he recognizes the professor's voice – this is someone who seemingly worked directly with shido on some level)
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and he also compares maruki to shido, unfavorably this time, when maruki tells him of his plans
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but maruki seems to take "you're no shido" as a challenge more than anything...
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...and this is the scene where he fully awakens to azathoth's power and realizes just what he has to do to change all of humanity's cognition as he planned (before the phantom thieves inadvertently give him the power to do that, even)
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with the spooky gendo ikari glasses glow not unlike shido's propaganda posters
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and taking a closer look at that propaganda poster, shido's party logo is a giant eye watching over the earth in its hands...
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...while maruki's whole palace is full of cameras that resemble azathoth's eyes
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and, of course, its tentacles resemble hands
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and there's even a projection of a globe over the atrium in the palace
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so the one line from akechi may have gotten cut but the connections are certainly still there
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holdharmonysacred · 2 years
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thinking about stuff and i think the ultimate problem with stevens universes was that it was a show where the entire main crew consisted of nothing but *storyboard artists* who primarily worked on episodic comedies, making it a huge problem when they badly needed a trained *writer* with experience in serialized epic fantasy. damn near all the faults of the show stem from this original fuckup - this Uh Oh of the crew biting off more than they could chew and trying to make a show where what the show needed to be was way WAY out of their comfort and experience zones.
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moonsaver · 1 month
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Okay, honestly, I'm still reeling from the entire penacony quest, but here's my take on Sunday so far;
He's manipulative, obviously.
But like.. the type that's kind of hesitant from time to time because he's still sincere to a degree. At least, when it comes to his loved ones.
So, I guess that hesitance decreases a lot if you're just some nobody. Even then, Sunday does want the better for everyone, too. It just means that others may bear the brunt of it for the most part before being able to get ahold of it.
Also, at the very least, even if some people suffer, at the end Sunday believes they will reach where they want to, after. In that case, however, Sunday suffers far more than them, without actually ever reaching his own destination or idea of paradise.
However, this view is a bit distorted. Sunday believes to be "sacrificing" himself, shouldering loneliness and burdens in order to uphold everyone else's "paradise". But to the others, he's simply a tyrant overruling everyone's will with his own idea of Order.
Sunday deeply cares. He cares too much. That's kind of the problem.
A bit of self-destructing tendencies when pushed too far, I guess.
Lets ignore logic established by the quest for a second (because i literally am still reeling from it)
Imagine Sunday first discovers this possibility. He's terrified of it, but at the same time, he truly thinks this is humanity's salvage – for everyone who has deeply suffered. He thinks of you.
You who have had your fair share of pain, who confides in him late at night in the quiet of your privacy, hushed voices like silenced by a thick blanket through the wall.
You deserve to live a sweeter life. He thinks. No. You deserve more. He knows.
The first person he ever wants to step into this paradise – you.
Now, although Sunday was defeated in the end, we all know that unfortunately, our ragtag team had to wake up again because defeating him first was a dream. This means at some point, Sunday did succeed.
And after everyone wakes, you don't. You continue sleeping soundly. So does Sunday.
The rest of the world can return to their miserable, bitter lives outside of this dream; but Sunday will be damned if he's letting you go. Perhaps.. it's not a selfless wish, anymore. Perhaps at this point, Sunday desperately, selfishly, grips onto you with the latches of a sweet, deep dream. One where he was fatally destined to never reach, only to control from the waking world. Now that everyone else has woken, he wants to return to the dream. He wants to return to you, who he has so lovingly entrenched deep into it.
Also, Robin. Im in SO much pain... PLEASW..
Do you guys think.. even if Robin was vehemently resistant against Sunday's ideas..
Even though Sunday knew she wouldn't stand for it..
Do you guys think.. he wanted her to also join him at the end and enjoy the "Paradise" he created aswell?
Do you think he would have wanted Robin to stop worrying about everything, to take rest, to finally come home, and sing to her heart's content inside the dream? The dream where they set the bird free? The dream where Sunday still has a sweet tooth? The dream where she never has to wear elaborate neck-pieces? The dream where neither of them was hurt? Where neither of them left each other?
Oh...ogh. . My heart.
Sunday would be such a scary lover, too.
I mean even normally, I don't think a relationship with him would be that healthy
Particularly because it seems so healthy
If reader was in a relationship with normal sunday, I mean.. it's gonna at least appear healthy and normal, even to them. It's probably just Sunday having to constantly burden himself with all the dirty strings he has to pull, the quiet rush of water when he washes his hands before caressing the side of your face, the tight, closed smile he would give if you ever asked him what was wrong.. he can't let you know.
I think he'll take a yandere route in an established relationship if you do happen to find out what's been going on behind the scenes. He'll have to calm you down, and you promise you won't peep about it. The build up is almost invisible, because things seem to go back to the way they were. Before Sunday starts acting a bit.. restless. That would be when his yan! Tendencies would start kicking in, for a variety of reasons.
I feel like y'know, out of all the hsr cast, he's one of the characters who is genuinely very close to becoming a yandere canonically. Control freak? Check. Twisted ideals? Check. Unchecked power? Check. Hypnotization/manipulation? Check.
Also, the slight difference of his color pallete as opposed to Robin's.
His is much more washes out than Robin's. It's more "duller" but also more professional, and the gold of his halo is more colder than the warmer tone of Robin's halo. They both still have white/grey as a major color in their palletes, but Sunday's is accompanied by deep navy blues, or washed out blues. Robin's is very vibrant and purple. The only blue segment of her pallete is her hair, and it's remarkably more vibrant than Sunday's.
Also.. Sunday's whole ideas on "weak" and "strong"
Of course, it wasn't all correct, but that doesn't mean they didn't hold some semblance of sense.
Regardless, this playing with yan! Tendencies..... HOOOOO boy
So many thoughts. Sunday manipulating his partner is quite possibly the most common theme in them.
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bitethedevil · 2 months
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Rambling about Raphael again: I’m getting more and more convinced that stealing from Raphael is an asshole move no matter what.
I just killed Raphael for the first time yesterday. I had gotten the scene where he comes home before but that was way back in my first playthrough and I chickened out back then. The battle itself was awesome, don’t get me wrong but it felt…unsatisfying? Sad even.
I’m obviously not excusing anything he’s done to Hope, but we don’t really know anything about Hope before we have already taken the decision to go to his house.
I found something in the House of Hope that I hadn’t seen before (it’s on the ground in the main area where the fireplace is iirc):
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Like yeah, we know that we don’t really need the Orphic Hammer if we’ve played the game before and all that. But does Raphael? It seems like he genuinely thinks it’s a fair trade. Dude lives in the Hells. I’m sure he really does expect the worst from people (especially someone like the Emperor). So he offers us a deal that he really believes is fair, and what do we do? We go robbing his house, fucks/kills his incubus, meddles in his business and essentially spits him in the face. Bonus asshole points if the last thing you ever say to him is that he’s a shit at sex.
Raphael is evil, no doubt, but he hasn’t really done anything to us. If you don’t take the deal, he simply leaves you alone (unless you refuse the Emperor in the end…in which he essentially calls you a dumbass but still helps if I remember correctly) even though that deal is the closest he’s been to the crown in millennia.
Which brings me to his reaction. Obviously, he seems angry right before the fight, but mostly I got the feeling of a man who has been utterly humiliated. His quote that went along the lines of: “Take away their free will and they’ll call you a tyrant. Let them indulge in it and they become tyrants” is kind of stuck with me. I think that Raphael could have potentially treated us a lot worse if he wanted to, but he chose not to (obviously that’s also to get us to trust him, but still). Which is why it stings even more when we fuck him over.
Think about his diary entries. The man has nightmares about us besting him. Imagine how stupid he must feel when that fear turns out to be true and that he shouldn’t have trusted us to keep our word.
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strangelittlestories · 9 months
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“What entertainment do you bring before me today?” Squawked Augustine, the king of the birds. “Have the mockingbird players returned from their tour of the provinces? Or maybe that prattling parrot will reprise its human impressions?”
“Alas, milord.” Replied the king’s seneschal, a somewhat fussy flamingo. “You had the parrot killed for excessive repetitions and hesitations.”
“So I did!” The king spread his majestic tail feathers proudly, reliving the happy fuzz of murder. “Well, they knew the rules. Or, at least, *I* knew the rules and they probably should have inferred them.”
“One can never argue with your execution of the law.” Said the long-suffering seneschal, keenly aware that the wrong answer could result in his suffering moving from *long* to *short*. “Or with the law of your executions, for that matter…”
“Speaking of executions,” Said the king, whose mind was never truly far from state-sanctioned violence, “Do we have any on the docket for today?”
“Your majesty, I’m afraid the dungeons are quite empty.”
“What, no traitors left?”
“No, sire.”
“No criminals of any kind? No thieves or fraudsters or comedians who are overly reliant on props?”
“All thoroughly and legally murked, milord.”
“Well, I suppose send in my jester, then. I’m so dreadfully bored.”
At this command, the jester fluttered into the room, wearing a jaunty cap made out of a McDonald’s wrapper with a small lost key jangling from it in place of a bell.
The king and seneschal looked at the jester - the air was heavy with the potential for further royal atrocities. The seneschal crossed his talons.
“Coo.” Said the pigeon jester, hilariously.
A pause. A silence.
“Coo.” Said the pigeon jester again, making unblinking eye contact with the king.
The silence stretched on further. (Surely it could not keep on stretching or it would pull something…)
“Coo.” Said the pigeon jester, tragically.
And at this, the king finally burst into laughter. Uproarious, over-the-top, gut-busting laughter.
Which was just the distraction the seneschal needed. The elaborate flamingo costume was abandoned; the false wooden legs clattered to the floor and the fake neck - a painted length of hose pipe - flopped grotesquely back and forth.
From the costume burst forth a small army of truly tiny owls, which set about tying up the king while he was still prostrate from the laughter.
“What is the meaning of this?” Wailed the king.
“Coup.” Said the pigeon jester, accurately.
“Your reign of terror is at an end, vile tyrant!” Chirped an Elf Owl, puffing up its chest. “Revolution is here and your foul murderous regime will fall. In its place will rise a majestic and fair government! Vive la republic of feathers!”
“This is a conspiracy!” Cried the king.
“No,” Said the Elf Owl. “A conspiracy is ravens.”
“Owls are…” It donned a tiny pair of sunglasses. “...a Parliament.”
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tossawary · 6 months
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One of my favorite Discworld books is actually one of the more obscure ones, "Moving Pictures", which is about the invention of films and the movie business in this fantasy world that has dwarves and trolls and wizards and so on. It has its rough patches like every early Discworld book, but Ginger's speech about people who were born in the wrong time or wrong place for their dreams really gets to me in a good way, and I love all of the references to classic films and commentary on fame and creativity. It also has classic characters like Gaspode the Talking Dog and C.M.O.T. Dibbler, and it introduces Detritus's romance with another troll named Ruby.
Perhaps most importantly to me is that this book introduces Ponder Stibbons, who is a wizard, and who goes on in later books to be one of the most important members of the Unseen University (he holds like twelve different positions), in that he's one of the few people who can competently manage a project and so ends up managing nearly everything. (Bear with me, it's been a while since I read any Discworld and my memory is a little rough.) In "Moving Pictures", Ponder is the classmate (roommate?) of a fellow named Victor Tugelbend, who is one of the main characters.
Victor begins the book as a career student, in that a wealthy relative left him a great deal of money exclusively for school; so as long as he STAYS in school, all of his living expenses are paid for. If Victor graduates, that's the end of the money. If Victor drops out, that's the end of the money. But if Victor manages to hit a specific mark range in the 80s every year, then he gets to stay on for another year and try again, and so Victor is perhaps the most dedicated and knowledgeable wizardry student in the university's history, because you have to know what the right answer is in order to intentionally get a certain number of the questions wrong, so that you can continue to coast along on your college fund.
Ponder's graduation is (accidentally) Victor's fault, because Victor runs away to get into the movie business. (I won't spoil what happens, but it's VERY funny.) Now, I like to imagine after the events of the book, after Ponder holds a faculty position in the university, Victor comes BACK to the university occasionally as a disgustingly well-paid external consultant, which drives Ponder UP THE FUCKING WALL. Like, people are so stingy all of the time but SOMEHOW the university budget has room to bring your offensively handsome dropout roommate back just to say, "Hmm, yes, that looks bad. Have you tried turning it off and on again?" I'd throw a fit, honestly. (As soon as Ponder has enough seniority, he probably puts his foot down to stop this if Victor isn't actually useful. Maybe he is, idk, but maybe not for THAT consulting fee.)
I also like to imagine that Victor Tugelbend and Theda "Ginger" Withel are still together, maybe even still acting (badly? mediocre-ly? decently?) together, in some dingy little theatre (Ginger is the director and runs their acting troupe like a tyrant) where the front seats are regularly filled with middle-aged folks who still sigh over the memories of moving pictures. (Moving pictures are now, presumably, VERY illegal in Ankh Morpork.) Victor and Ginger have only because even more attractive as they've gotten older, which is EVEN MORE OFFENSIVE to poor Ponder because his former movie star former roommate is married to another gorgeous former movie star?! I'd throw another fit.
Anyway, I think Ponder deserves to have an affair with a pair of aging former movie stars. I like to imagine this purely because I think it's funny. He seems kind of busy for marriage, so joining someone else's marriage part-time might be good for him. It probably makes most of the rest of the Unseen University faculty breathlessly envious and that really does it for him.
And I think that this affair would OF COURSE be covered by every newspaper and tabloid in the city, including The Times, and William de Worde and Sacharissa Cripslock don't fully understand why their entertainment reporter is so breathlessly excited about people who were famous over a decade ago? (Supermarket tabloids love to tell me about alleged affairs of people who were famous 20+ years ago.) The article on Victor Maraschino and Delores De Syn's failing marriage* is their bestselling newspaper in months and William puts his head down on his desk in despair. (He's fine. This happens on a weekly at least basis. He just needs a minute.)
*Victor and Ginger are very happy with this situation, actually. They're going to take Ponder to dinner to go on a double date with Ruby and Detritus soon. Victor and Ponder are going to get distracted arguing about some of the Inadvisably Applied Magic research projects, but that's fine, because Ginger wants to talk to Ruby about this one-troll-woman-show concept. (Detritus will proudly hand out tickets at the Watch station and accidentally intimidate all of his coworkers into accepting the invitation.)
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littlxpxtal · 2 months
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Sex, Drugs, Etc.
TYRANTS || STORY MASTERLIST PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader WARNINGS: MDNI 18+ Content, swearing, sexual content, drug and alcohol use, violence WORD COUNT: 2.1K
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Everywhere I go, I know that I don't wanna be
Part of something I won't ever need
Your socialized, romanticized life
November Cont.
“Rafe ‘m really not in the mood to play your games. I just had to break up a fight and my house is a fuckin’ mess.” I mumble before opening the downstairs door. I hear him following behind me down the stairs as I make my way to my room. I walk over to the patio doors, pulling the curtains closed.
“I didn’t say you could stay,” I say as I sit on my chair in front of my vanity starting to take my jewelry off. He makes himself at home on the edge of my bed picking up one of the stuffed animals nearest to him. 
“You need to lighten up,” he says, inspecting the stuffed cat with big blue eyes. 
I finish taking off my earrings and placing them onto the ceramic plate in front of me. I stand up and make my way over to him, ripping the stuffed animal out of his hands and tossing it to the other side of the bed.
He reaches out to grab my waist, pulling me in between his legs. I stumble forward, placing my hands on his chest, feeling his firm muscles under my hands. Warmth rushes through my legs and up my thighs at the sensation of his hands squeezing my sides and our close proximity. 
He plays with the crystal tassels on my dress, his hand creeping slowly underneath them.
“Rafe” I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut as his fingers graze the inside of my thigh.
“Tell me to stop,” he says, his other hand moving to grab my ass. I bite my bottom lip unsure of what my next response should be. I know sleeping with Rafe would be so wrong, but I would be lying to myself if I didn’t think he was the hottest guy in Kildare. 
I wouldn’t be the only girl to think so, and I wouldn’t be the only girl to fall for his tricks. 
“You’re just messin’ with me” I finally say through an exhale. My hands are still placed on his chest but I feel the urge to run them through his hair as he’s sitting before me. His bangs have fallen in front of his face and he looks up at me through his dark lashes. 
He runs his tongue over his bottom lip and traces his fingers over my panty line, his other hand still firmly grasping my ass.
“I told you, you looked good didn’t I?” he asks. I try to read his face, to see if this is some kind of sick joke he’s trying to pull. I quickly glance behind me as if there’s someone with a camera hiding in my closet, ready to expose me.
“No one’s here,” he murmurs, pulling me closer so my stomach is pressed against his chest, My hands raise to his shoulders and I feel my breathing become heavy and rapid. 
“‘M so confused I thought you hated me?” I ask, trailing my fingers along his neck, still fighting the urge to touch his hair. He’s looking up at me intently, chin gently resting on my chest.
“I could never hate you,” he responds plainly. The silence between us lingers for a few seconds as I contemplate what my next move is.
“You act like it. You were just berating me like ten minutes ago” I decide to respond, curious as to what he could say next.
“Why don’t you let me show you how much I don’t hate you.” 
I decided I wasn’t going to let Rafe feel like he was in control of the situation. I swing my right leg around him, pushing him down onto my bed, my face hovering over his. His hands readjust on my hips pushing my crotch down against his, and I feel his hard bludge throbbing through his pants against the thin fabric of my dress.
“Holy shit,” I mumble, holding eye contact as his face remains unreadable. 
“Told you,” he whispers before reaching his face up to lock his lips with mine. His mouth is slightly parted and I glide my tongue over his. He groans in the kiss and bucks his hips against mine. My hand tangles into his hair, the other is pushing me up in support. His right hand releases from my hip and he reaches to pull my hair out of my face, clutching it into a fist behind my neck. 
Our lips move painfully slow against each other, and he pushes me by the neck deeper into the kiss.
My hands release from his hair and trail down to unbutton his shirt. When I get down to the last button he sits us up to pull it off his shoulders, flinging the shirt across the room. Our mouths still attached, he finds the zipper to my dress on the side and begins to unzip the fabric. 
“Every guy in Kildare was eye fucking you tonight.” he finally says, breaking our kiss.
“‘N I know all of them are having wet dreams tonight just hoping to get the chance to take this dress off of you.” I roll my eyes and pull myself off of him to let the rest of the dress slip down my body, leaving me in only white lace panties. 
“Lucky you,” I state, leaning over to unbutton his pants. He stands to let them fall to the ground, and grabs my body, pushing it down to the bed, and climbing on top of me. His hands are on the side of my head and he's hovering over my body, scanning me with his eyes up and down. He runs one hand down the side of my body and I feel myself tremble under his touch.
“Yea, lucky me,” he whispers before leaning down to attach his mouth to my right nipple.
“Fuck” I breathe out heavily, grasping his hair with both hands, letting a soft whimper fall from my lips in response to his mouth attacking my sensitive bud. 
My eyes roll to the back of my head as he attaches his mouth to my left nipple, using his free hand to fondle my right boob. His tongue laps over my nipple repeatedly and I squirm beneath him, reaching my hand down to feel his dick over his Polo boxers.
I gulp hard when I finally grasp his length, eyes squeezing shut just imagining what it would feel like inside. He had a thick girth, and I felt a slight curve towards the tip. My mouth began to water, and I heard myself panting beneath him. 
“Sure you don’t want me to stop?” he finally asks, his mouth skimming over my chest, up my neck and finally laying a wet kiss on my cheek. My eyes flutter open and I see him staring directly down at me. I shake my head and he tsks his tongue.
“Use your words,” he commands.
“No I don’t want you to stop.” I surprise myself at the authoritative tone. I see a flash of excitement in his eyes, the first emotion he's shown since he entered my room.
“Lets see whats under these pretty little panties.” he coos, pulling himself off of me, onto his knees at the edge of the bed. He pulls me down by my legs so they’re dangling over the edge. His hands creep up my legs and I try my best to hold still as he drags my underwear down my legs, flicking them to the side. He pushes open my legs with both hands, peppering kisses on the inside of my right thigh. His hair tickles me and I slightly fidget beneath him. His hands hold down my legs, forcing me to become still again.
He takes a hand to spread me open, the other still firmly gripped on my thigh.
“So fuckin’ pretty” he whispers, before dipping his tongue in between my folds. I let out a long sigh at the feeling of his tongue against such a sensitive part of my body. My back arches up from the bed and I reach down to place a hand in his hair. His tongue traces circles all around my pussy, licking up all of the juices from the stimulation he’s given me.
“Taste like heaven,” he mumbles against my skin, slowing his pace, dragging his tongue up and down, devouring me. Rafe flicks his tongue at my clit finally and I let out a deep moan, earning a chuckle from him. 
He runs a finger between my folds, teasing my entrance. His eyes finally flicker up to mine and I prop myself up on my elbows. He raises an eyebrow and I shake my head, yes, permitting him to do whatever he wants. He slides the finger in with ease and my head rolls back.
His mouth attaches to my clit and he forcefully sucks at it while pumping his index finger in and at at a constant pace. 
“Fuck Rafe” I gasp out. He slides a second finger inside, stretching me out. He curls the fingers up, hitting a spot that makes me embarrassingly whimper beneath him. His tongue flattens against my bud and he makes strokes up and down, fastening the pace of his fingers. 
He moans against my pussy, and I release a full-body tremble, his eyes flash up to me and I bite down on my bottom lip, holding in the moan I so desperately want to let out. 
“Let me hear you,” he says, breaking contact from my throbbing clit for a second, before dipping back in, keeping his eyes on me. I stare directly into his eyes and let out the most pathetic moan I’ve ever heard escape my lips. 
His eyes roll and for a second he loses pace with his fingers. After collecting himself again and getting back to work, I let whimpers fall from my mouth uncontrollably as I felt myself reaching my climax. 
My legs shake uncontrollably under his hold and I finally cry out
“Fuck I’m gonna cum.” Panting heavily I pull desperately at his hair with one hand, the other clawing at his shoulder, digging my nails into his skin as I come undone on his face. He keeps the pace exactly where I need him as I ride out my high, moaning profanities out loud that in the morning I knew I would be embarrassed of him hearing. 
After a few moments of him cleaning me up with his tongue, his head pops up between my thighs, with a big smirk spread across his face.
“That was hot,” he says, using my thighs to help him push himself up. I lay there, deflated as a balloon, blissed out of my mind as he waltzed over to my bathroom to rinse off his hands and face. I watch him from the corner of my eye check himself out in the mirror and he finally strolls back over, leaning down to pick his pants up off the ground.
I stare at him, analyzing his next moves. He pulls his pants up over his boxers and scans the room for his shirt. I point in the direction of where he threw it, and finally sit up, pulling a throw blanket over my naked body.
“Are we not gonna…” I say, puzzled at him getting fully clothed again.
“Nah Top’s having an after and I said I would bring some of my stash” 
I try to not let disappointment fall on my face at the fact that he wasn’t actually going to fuck me. 
“Don’t worry Y/N, we’ll fuck somday.” he says smugly, buttoning up his shirt. I scoff and roll my eyes, walking over to my drawer with the blanket wrapped around me. I pull a large T-shirt out of the middle drawer and slide it over me.
“Says who?” I finally snap back, turning to look at him. He walks over, pressing me against my dresser. My body still shaking from the orgasm I just had. 
He stared deep into my eyes, that stupid smirk still plastered on his face.
“Something tells me you’ll be begging for it soon.” I roll my eyes again and push him away from me.
“Whatever” I finally say, sitting on my bed. “You’re not gonna tell anyone right?” I ask as he slips on his shoes.
“No, I’m not gonna tell anyone you just came all over my face.” he says, grinning from ear to ear. 
“You’re so fucking annoying.” I say, throwing the same stuffed animal he was examining earlier at him. Unfortunately he catches it with ease and he chuckles, tossing it back onto the bed. 
“Happy Birthday Y/N. See ya in 3rd period!” he says chipperly, before exiting my patio doors.
I stare at the doors in disbelief. This was the most Rafe Cameron thing he’s ever done to me.
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elizabethemerald · 1 year
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Son of the Red Hood: Part 2
Timely Conversations and New Fathers
Diana Prince strolled through the gardens of Themyscira enjoying the moment of peace in between missions for the Justice League. Flowers of all manner were blooming and flourishing in the gardens, small birds and butterflies flying lazily from flower to flower. She smiled to herself as she rubbed her fingers against one of the blooms, releasing more of the heady scent. 
“Diana!” A voice she recognized called to her from behind. 
She turned and midway through the turn realized something was wrong and pulled her blade as she completed the turn. Sophia, her dear friend stood a few yards away, her arm upraised in greeting, though frozen in place. The butterflies were similarly frozen in place, some mid flap of their wings. 
Diana turned again, keen eyes trying to pick out any threat. When she once again faced the same direction she had been walking in she saw a grandfatherly being with teal skin and a purple robe. She may not recognize the being’s face, but she could feel the energy coming off him well enough. She slid one foot back as she settled into a fighting crouch. 
“Lord Kronos.” 
“Peace God-Killer.” The being said. “I have no wish to cause harm to you, your home or this world. Besides, your work is already completed in my regard.” 
She stayed tense, ready for any attack but when none came she strode forward and thrust her sword into the being’s chest. Kronos looked down at the blade with a grimace but didn’t otherwise react. 
“You are a spirit.” Diana said simply before withdrawing her blade. 
“Yes I am. Among my kind I am known as Clockwork now.” 
Diana stepped back, but stayed wary of any trick. Spirits were just as known for trickery as Titans were known for aggression. She did not know what to make of the spirit of a former Titan. 
“Very well, Lord Clockwork. Why have you come? And what have you done to the inhabitants of Themyscira?” 
“I have simply frozen you and I in a single moment. When I depart things will resume as they were before. As for why I have come…”
Clockwork hesitated, and before her eyes aged backwards until there was a young man standing before her. His hand went to his chin as he considered the problem before him. 
“I have come to ask for your help in training the next king of my kind.” He finally said. 
Diana paused in confusion. Of the great many things she had expected to be asked, assisting in training was not one. 
“The next king of the Titans?”
“No. The next king of Ghosts. The last king, a tyrant by the name of Pariah Dark was dethroned in combat by a mere boy. A child, half of this world, half of the next. He has much he needs to learn before he takes up the crown and while I have given him as much time as I can he is still largely untrained.” 
There was a lot of information there. Diana felt for a moment that she was sitting in one of Batman’s debriefs. She settled back from her watchful stance to consider the issue. 
“If the boy-king needs training, why not train him yourself? Or have another of your kind do the deed?”
Clockwork sighed, Diana watched as he deaged again until he looked like a child himself. 
“While the boy is powerful, wise and just beyond his years, in my efforts to buy him the time needed to be the best king the Infinite Realms has had, I have made him vulnerable. If the ghosts who wanted the throne knew of his vulnerability they would take advantage. I am restrained in how much I can interfere. Besides all that he is of the world of men. He needs as much training in this world as he will in the next.” 
Diana considered his words carefully. Finally she nodded. 
“I will train this little king. Where may I find him?” 
“You may take your time to search your histories and consult with your sages, I don’t expect you to take me at my word. But you will find the boy-king in a city shrouded by darkness and cloaked in death, guarded by one to whom the shadows cling. When the time comes, follow the one who calls to you.” 
Diana blinked at the riddle and by the time her eyes were fully open again, Clockwork had disappeared and she could once again hear the sound of bird calls. 
“Di-Oh! Diana! Have you been training with those speedsters of the world of men? I’ve never seen you move that fast.”
She turned to address Sophia who seemed to be unharmed from her brief moment being frozen. 
“Sophia, were you calling for a specific reason?” Diana asked as she turned to her friend. 
“No reason, I just was wondering if you would be joining us for a celebratory dinner tonight.” 
Diana nodded. 
“I may be a little late. I need to spend some time in the archives. I have much to consider.” 
Sophia looked a little confused, but ultimately didn’t bother her, she knew Diana had many responsibilities from her work with the Justice League. 
“Very well, Diana. I will be sure to save you a plate.”
Diana smiled at her friend and strode quickly towards the Library of Themyscira.
.
 Jason swung through the city of Gotham from one grapple point to the next. Normally when he went through the city he took his bike. The grapples he stole from the bats just weren’t made to carry the amount of armor and weapons that he normally carried on his person as Red Hood, but sometimes, he just needed to remember what it was like to fly. 
Now he needed to fly because he was following a strange pull on the Pit. Anything that made the Pit sit up and pay attention was something to be concerned about, especially when whatever it was pulled him to a building just outside his turf. That seemed deliberate. Like someone was purposefully trying to draw him out of where he controlled. 
Jason hated the Pit. It was rage and hatred and vengeance, and he thought he had wanted that, but it was also blood and death and threatening his family, and fear in their eyes and their blood on his-
Now that feeling in his chest that burned and turned his vision green called like a siren’s song. He needed to find whatever was calling him. If it was a threat he would remove the threat with extreme prejudice. If not… then at the very least he would remove it from anywhere it could threaten the rest of the bats. No need for anything Pit related to be outside Hood’s territory. 
He landed in a crouch on the rooftop that had been calling him and stood cautiously looking around for any threat, or the source of the call. He didn’t have to look very hard. There was a child laid out in the center of the roof. 
A child. Alone. On a rooftop in Gotham. If Jason wasn’t seeing green before he certainly was now. He dashed forward, keeping a weather eye out, just in case one of his enemies decided to use a kid as bait. If they were he was going to tear their bodies apart. Their corpse would be unrecognizable as human. 
Jason fell to his knees alongside who couldn’t be older than five, a small collection of personal items next to the kid like they had been dumped here alongside the kid. Worst of all was the green glowing puddle next to the kid. It didn’t have the consistency of Lazarus Water and was closer to the thickness of blood. Jason’s hands hovered over the unconscious form of the child, their chest shallowly rising and falling with each breath. 
A crunch of gravel at the other edge of the rooftop made Jason whirl around bringing his guns up, his eyes blazing green. When his brain caught up to the fact that the person was Dick it took all of his self restraint not to squeeze the trigger anyways. 
“Dammit Dickiebird! You should know better than to try and surprise me!” Jason snapped, his voice harsh. 
“Oracle noticed you were out of your usual turf and I wanted to make sure-” Dick froze as he looked past Jason. “Is that a kid?”
“Yes, it's a kid! It’s a kid and he’s hurt and he’s barely breathing and for some reason I can feel him through the Pits!” Jason’s voice was hoarse as he whispered, he holstered his gun, trying to ignore the way his hands shook. 
Dick was immediately at his side, kneeling next to the kid. He looked over the other things, the hat, the gloves, a teddy bear dressed as an astronaut. That last one was actually kind of adorable. 
“Who just leaves a kid on a rooftop? In Gotham of all places?” Dick said. He picked up the teddy and looked at it closely as Jason returned his attention to the kid. 
“Someone who wants them found by a Bat I’ll bet.” Jason said softly. 
Dick examined the bear for a moment longer before he squeezed the bear’s paw. Both of them were surprised when they heard the voice of a young woman come from the space themed bear. 
“I love you so much Danny, no matter what.” The voice said. They were both just as surprised when the kid, Danny maybe? stirred and looked around. 
“Jazz?” The kid said as he sat up. 
Jason immediately put a hand on the kid’s back to keep him as steady as he could. 
Dick pressed the bear’s paw again and that same voice called out. 
“I love you so much Danny, no matter what.” 
Danny reached for the bear and Dick willingly handed it over. The boy looked confused at the beat before pressing his face to the bear’s fur. 
“Hey kiddo. Are you Danny?” Dick asked. 
The kid nodded his head. 
“Is your mom named Jazz?” Jason asked. It wasn’t the weirdest idea that the kid would call his mom by her first name, but Danny immediately shook his head. 
“No! Jazz is my sister!” Danny had the pouty voice of a toddler who thought the other person was being stupid. “She’s the best!”
Dick grimaced, but carefully hid his face before Danny could see it. A child abandoned on a rooftop and a sister missing in the wind. None of this seemed good to them. Danny made to stand on wobbly legs, but winced and held his stomach, falling back onto his backside. 
“My tummy hurts!” 
Dick and Jason immediately crouched at his side again, concern clear in their movements. 
“Hey buddy, tell us where it hurts.” Jason said, trying to keep his words soft past the voice modulator in his helmet. 
Danny grabbed his side, just below his ribs. Jason reached towards the buttons of Danny’s star themed footie pajamas with shaking hands. 
“Do you mind if we take a look? If you’re hurt we can take care of you.” 
The kid thought for a second before nodding. Jason helped him undo his buttons one by one. He could feel a burning rise in his gut as the top of a scar revealed itself. A few more buttons and he could see where the two up branches of the scar joined in the center of his chest and continued further down. Someone had vivisected this kid. 
Someone had VIVIsected this KID. 
sOMEone HaD cUT OpEN thIS KID
Someone had Cut open this KID
Green filled Jason’s vision and with the last of his self control he turned away and marched over to the edge of the rooftop. He was going to kill- he was going to tear them- Blood he needed blood- All he could feel was rage-
He felt a small hand take his own. 
His head snapped down to look at the hand with unnatural speed. Through the haze of green in his eyes he could see the little boy, pajamas still unbuttoned, had grabbed his hand. Danny was desperately tugging on Jason’s hand, trying to pull him down all the while waving his other hand in the air as if he was trying to waft away smoke or bugs. 
Jason crouched down next to Danny. Distantly he could tell that Dick was watching him closely, hands anxiously outstretched in case he hurt the kid, but Jason could no more hurt this boy than he could cut off his own hand. As soon as he was on the kid’s level Danny used both hands to wave around Jason’s head with an annoyed look on his face. 
“Go away! Leave him alone, green monsters!” Danny shouted, still waving his hands around in the air. He scowled almost as well as Damian at whatever he could see around Jason’s head. 
The green that filled his vision slowly faded. He could still see the vivisection scar on Danny’s chest and it filled him with rage, but the rage was his own and there were no murderous impulses. Jason took a deep breath and slowly released it, letting the tension and fury drain from his body. Eventually he would deal with whoever did this to a kid, but until that time he had different priorities. 
“Thanks kid.” Jason said. He could see Dick relaxing in the corner of his vision, but he stayed focused on Danny. 
“Of course! It’s why I’m here! To protect you from the green monsters.” Danny said proudly, jutting his little chest out. Then he sagged against Jason, wrapping his arms around his neck. “Now I’m tired.” 
“Go ahead and take a nap kiddo. We’ll get you somewhere safe.” Jason said. 
It only seemed to take a moment before Danny was fast asleep, his arms still wrapped around Jason’s neck. He picked up the kid easily and settled him on his hip before he turned to look at his brother. 
“Dickolas. This kid just ended the Pit Rage by asking nicely. I don’t know what happened to him before, but if anyone tries to hurt him I’m going to end their entire bloodline.” He sighed out. “Until we find his parents or his sister, Jazz, I’m going to keep him safe.” 
“Understandable, though he might be safer at the Manor-”
“If you tell B about him I’m going to blow your brains out.” Jason interrupted. He wasn’t going to let B get another kid killed. Dick put up his hands in surrender. 
“I’m just saying, how many guns do you think are currently on your coffee table at your place?” 
Jason wanted to growl in annoyance, but he couldn’t really deny that. 
“Could you come with me?” Dick could have only looked more surprised if Jason had asked to have a family dinner with Bruce. “Just come, keep an eye on the kid while I baby proof my apartment.” Jason grit his teeth for a moment. “Please.” 
He could see Dick’s eyebrow raise even with his domino, but he nodded all the same. 
“Yeah, of course. What are brothers for if not for babysitting strange children with mysterious powers over the Rage of the Lazarus Pit.” 
Jason scowled but the two of them still descended the building together and made their way into Crime Alley towards Jason’s apartment. He kept a firm hold on the sleeping Danny the whole way there.
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creweemmaeec11 · 2 years
Text
Skimming off the top
"Relax, I'm not about to chop your head off," the villain mused, rounding their desk to instead lean back against it. They eyed the henchmen in the chair before them, "But I know you've been skimming money off the top. Don't dig yourself a deeper hole by denying it. Just tell me why,"
Despite the villain's calm demeanour and even reassurance, henchman was undoubtedly shaking. He knew this had been a bad idea. He was about to pay for it.
"I... I needed the money-"
"For *what*?" The villain pressed.
"My... my wife she-"
"Diana? Is she alright?"
Henchman was shocked his boss even remembered her name, but he forced himself to press on, "no, or- yes- well, kind of? She uh, she's pregnant,"
"That's amazing news," the villain replied. They sounded genuinely happy, "Are you worried about not having enough to properly start a family? You could have spoken to me about a raise,"
"No no! It's, well, there have been some complications in her pregnancy. The pressure ruptured her appendix-"
"My god, is she okay!?" Villain gasped in horror.
"Yes! Yes she and the baby are fine, but the surgery was expensive so I'd been skimming to try and pay it off,"
Villain sighed, "why didn't you just tell me in the first place?" They asked. They seemed genuinely confused.
"I- what?" Henchman stammered.
The villain rounded the desk again, sitting back down on their chair, "how much more do you need to pay it off? My calculations tell me you've skimmed about $2000 already, correct?"
"I- yes, sir. I still need $6000," he replied. What was happening here?
Suddenly villain pulled out a chequebook, "Don't get me wrong, you're still in trouble for skimming behind my back. I'm no tyrant, if you need money desperately like this, just come to me next time. We are grown-ups; we can work something out. For now, we can take it off your paychecks until it's been repaid, once this has been settled," villain explained, before standing back up and handing over a check signed for $6000. "Let me know if you need any more, okay?"
Henchman was stunned, "I- I- yes- yes sir- I- thank you-"
"You're welcome," the villain nodded, "That being said. I don't want to see you skimming again. Got it?"
"Absolutely sir, it will never happen again,"
"Good," Villain nodded, sitting back down into their large office chair, "now go home,"
The henchman's eyes widened, "but I thought I wasn't getting fired!"
"You're not," villain smiled, "but your pregnant wife just had surgery. You're on mandatory leave until her doctor clears her health, got it?"
The worker's eyes widened even more, "I- yes, yes sir. Thank you so much,"
The villain nodded, looking down at their desk again, scribbling something else on a different paper. After a moment, they glanced up to see the henchman hadn't moved. They raised an eyebrow as if to say "why are you still here?"
It was because the worker felt like he couldn't leave. He had expected such punishment, but this was...
He forced his legs to stand and walked out, heading straight home. His wife would be thrilled.
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amuseoffyre · 8 months
Text
"I don't even know who I am"
What I have loved about the show from day one is that it has been an unflinching examination of identity and what makes it: the things that shape people into who they are and how that impacts on how they act and react to the world around them.
The exploration of Ed’s sense of self has been so beautifully handled and I know that if/when we get a third season, they’re going to do even more with it.
This is a character who has been raised with violence and cruelty his whole life, who was told “we’re just not those kind of people” when he yearns for something better, who killed to protect his mother, who ended up under the heel of a brutal tyrant of a captain who used sadistic punishments and death to keep his crew in line.
It’s the only life he knew and it’s the only option he sees himself as having. He has no concept of any other alternative until along comes Stede “there’s always another way” Bonnet and he’s fascinated. He even tells Stede as much the first time they met – “do you have any idea how hard it is to find someone doing something original out here? It’s impossible, man.”
Ned Lowe cements that fact in 2x06, describing Ed as a generic pirate and Ed immediately calls him out on the fact that he’s as messy as the rest of them even if he’s trying to act like he’s not, observing “It’s usually family stuff”. Stede even observes “A lot of your friends are troubled” and Ed fully admits “Yeah. Well. They’re pirates.”
There’s so much juicy meta to be had about the fact that Stede wants to desperately be a pirate and Ed doesn’t even catch that not only is Stede fully troubled but that it’s got Family Stuff etched all over it. He even says “you’ve got it all figured out”, but the Stede meta is for another day.
In S1, Ed’s in a pretty depressed space and finds a bit of a respite from it in Stede’s company. It lets him try out new things, things he didn’t think he was allowed/able to do, but he still follows a lot of the patterns of behaviour and actions that are standard in the pirate lifestyle that has been 80% of his lived experience.
He can switch violence on and off when he needs it (“next one goes through your fucking eye”), he doesn’t see anything wrong in talking about the violence he’s inflicted (“Well, this one time I was gouging an eye out of this lad’s skull”), he has a deep well of punishments that he can draw from (force-feeding body parts, mutilation, skinning, maiming) and all of these things are just so normalised for him that he’s desensitised to how horrific they are.
He’s still doing all those things while also telling stories, having fun, teaching people about fuckeries and generally being “more open and available than I’ve ever seen him”. He hasn’t wanted or needed to shed that side of his life because he’s getting the best of both worlds.
Only then Calico Jack pays a visit and ramps Ed’s behaviour up to 11 and this is the first time Stede – who is dealing with his own issues at the same time – says that there’s something wrong with the way he’s behaving.
Ed says to Stede, confused and stung, “This is who I am. This is me” when Stede points out all the behaviour he isn’t enjoying. And for him, at this point, this is him. This is what he’s grown up knowing and being. This is his lifestyle and part of the culture of the pirate community. We see it repeatedly when we see Ed encountering people from his past or in the Republic. It’s the frog-in-the-pot scenario. He’s been in the pot so long, he doesn’t know it’s been boiling the whole time.
Only the very next episode, at the academy, pared back to just be Edward Teach, born on a beach, he admits “I don’t know if I want to go back to the old days, drinking all day and forcing some bloke to eat his own toes for a laugh”. He’s been played and double-crossed by people who trusted him and he sees an alternative in Stede – “I’m your friend” Stede told him, and he wants that. He wants a friend he can trust. They can go off together, away from all that and everything’ll be fixed, right? That’ll make it all good.
And then…
And then we all know how that goes.
Briefly, very briefly he thinks he might be able to hold on to that different kind of thing, that softer, brighter world, but Izzy reminds him of the reality of their situation. That people he considers allies and friends can and will warn him to “watch his fucking step” and that this is not a world where he can let his guard down.
Either you’re part of that world or you die. Izzy said it as far back as episode 4. The only retirement they get is death. And so that’s the option Ed takes: either watch the world burn or die trying. Not like he can have anything else. For ever and ever, trapped in his life and world he has come to hate.
He sinks him into the worst of it to try and end things faster. He’s crueller. Relentless. Brutal. And no one seems to care that he’s shattering under the weight of it, until he forces their hand and goads them into killing him or letting him kill all of them.
Izzy says “we did this to him” to Stede, but neither of them seem to realise how much deeper Ed’s hurts go. Yes, they both had an impact on Ed, knocking away his sense of place and self and acceptance, but the wounds are far older and far deeper than they know.
It’s only when Ed is first forced to confront himself in the unsettling not-reality of the gravy basket that he takes the first step in understanding himself better. He’s forced to face the stuff he’s done and the worst parts of himself. He even tries to kill them, over and over again, until he realises.
I find it especially interesting that Buttons describes getting out of purgatory as “escaping”. That this is a place where you’re flayed down to the bones and forced to face the worst parts of yourself.
It’s so vital that he – and Stede – have the encounter with Anne and Mary. He’s reminded of the world that he was part of and the casual brutality that came with it. He’s shown that he and Stede could easily fall into those patterns, but instead Stede offers him honesty, comfort and the assurance that he is loved.
“A lot of your friends are troubled” Stede observes after and Ed admits that yeah, they’re pirates. He recognises that this is part of the social culture he grew up in and that it’s still impacting on him now.
But what happens next is so sweet and important. Buttons talks to him of learning to change, that nothing is fixed and that if you want to, you can change your path. And then Buttons shows him it’s possible and Ed’s face just lights up. Yes, brother. Fly. You can change things. You can choose another way.
Only it’s not simple. It’s not straightforward. With the probation period, Ed looks for quick fixes – offers to let Lucius push him overboard to get it over with and the like – but part of him still doesn’t quite get why some of the stuff he did was wrong because it was so normalised to him.
It takes Fang saying “I was terrified” to make him see it and coming from someone who has been with him for 20 years, realising someone else from within his own world was terrorised by him brings things into focus for him. That the things he thought were games weren’t. That the stuff he told himself was normal in context absolutely wasn’t normal.
And this is where Ed’s entire world view pivots. Fang shows him how to sit with himself, how to reflect. Ed takes this lesson to heart and he’s still working through it, gazing out to sea and thinking about it at the beginning of episode 6. He goes from never apologising for anything as a captain to telling both Fang and Izzy quiet, but meaningfully, “I’m sorry”.
He’s known for a long time that he’s tired of piracy, but the Ned Lowe situation is the thing to put the final nail in the coffin: this man hunted him down because of his pirating. This man hurt them all because of it. And worst of all, Ned took the man Ed loves and pushed and provoked him until Stede killed him. This was Ed’s “you defile beautiful things” moment. His face in those scenes, when he said “don’t do it, you can’t come back from this” is a call from his own experience. Stede is taking that step onto a path that Ed desperately wants to get off.
That night makes the decision for him.
The next morning, his leathers go overboard, a symbolic end to Blackbeard (and I will yell another day about him putting the proverbial beast back under the waves. Ed and his sea metaphors are gnawing me alive) and he’s happy about it, humming and hurrying back down to join Stede in their bed.
Stede doesn’t notice, though. Stede never would notice something like that being important because for him, Ed is Ed. Whatever he wears, whatever he does, he is Ed. A change of clothes doesn’t change him in Stede’s eyes.
But other people notice. Hell other people not noticing Blackbeard and only seeing some hobo dude is such a change. There’s something so significant that the people he chooses to talk to about it are the old guard in his field. He tells Jackie “it’s not a phase” and Izzy that it felt “fucking great” and both of them get it. Both of them have been there, seen it, experienced it.
Only it happens as he’s seeing Stede become what he used to be, stepping into the space he’s willingly leaving, and Stede is so happy about it. And he’s happy for Stede to have his moment and be appreciated, but it just throws into stark relief that this is absolutely not what he wants or needs right now. He still has a lot of figuring out to do and unfortunately, they’re both highly-emotional people and when they’re emotional, their communication goes down the toilet.
Once upon a time Ed said “this is who I am, this is me” to Stede, when he was acting exactly like Stede is now: raucous, drinking, chaotic and loud. Only time and reflection has let him see that wasn’t necessarily him but the environment and his circumstances shaping him to be like that, just as it's now making Stede act that way.
“I don’t even know who I am,” he admits in this argument. “I’m not ready for whatever this is”. He knows he has a lot more to figure out and because he’s latched on so hard to fishing as a place to be quiet and contemplate, that’s why he runs there. He wants to work himself out without the weight and pressure of the pirate world breathing down his neck.
Only he doesn’t talk about it, he doesn’t explain, he just tells Stede he’s leaving and Stede immediately sees it as something he’s said/done, rather than something that Ed is trying to figure out. They both hurt each other because Ed has always worried that Ed isn’t enough – the loss of the beard still weighs on them both – and that Stede is only humouring him to get Blackbeard, while Stede is so convinced that being a great pirate will mean he and Ed can be together as equals instead of him being a bumbling amateur who isn’t worthy of the man he loves, only to see it slip through his fingers.
They both need to talk to each other, but they don’t know how. Ed’s made quick, rash decisions, but they’ve come on the back of a lot of reflection and he just didn’t explain it. He’s right that he doesn’t know who he is himself. He’s never had the chance to just… take the time and figure it out. He needs that time, but they just don’t have it right now and they end up hurting each other more because of it.
I’ve said from the beginning that both of them are coming from opposite ends of the spectrum and that they’re destined to meet somewhere in the middle. Ed got his fantasies of a fancy life shattered in season one and now, Stede is seeing the impact of his pirate fantasies on the life he made for himself in season two.
Both of them are on the edge of a catastrophe curve, misunderstanding each other’s motivations and totally at odds with who they are versus who they have been told they need to be. They will get there, but two little lost boys finally taking off the rose-tinted glasses and dealing with the mess that they have carried with them their entire lives isn’t easy.
And I will fully admit I am loving it.
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alexa-fika · 2 months
Note
Could it be possible to request doflamingo reaction to him finding out through his spies or Ceasar that he has a daughter ? I think it's a 50/50 with him like I can totally see him going out to bring her to him. The 50/50 comes to the way he'd treat her. She is a Donquixote after all. Idk with how things ended with Cora if he would be gentle with her. Or just end up trying to using her in some scheme? If you don't have any ideas for how the story should go? Maybe Law and the strawhats learn about her? Maybe she's scared of the family and outsiders and they try and help her?
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Broken Bonds (Doflamingo x f!teen!reader)
A/N so I got these request, and I kinda merged them together to make this piece, Doflamingo is problabky Ooc here simply because that ass wouldn’t be soft but we have the power to change that ✊🏽Maybe a cook?? Maybe, maybe a sizzle.
Reader here is replaced by the placeholder, Dokusha which means reader in japanese
Dividers by @/saradika
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“Let go of me, idiot,” she growled, sending a swift kick to the guard that was currently holding her down
Dokucha had chosen to take on a mission on Dressrosa despite Sabo’s and Koala’s concerns. In the end, they understood that this was something she needed to do. And so she set off to begin gathering information on the Kingdom. However, the mission quickly turned wrong as she was caught trying to sneak into the castle. Now, she found herself being brought to the very man she was supposed to collect information on
Doflamingo sighs, swiftly wrapping strings around the teen to prevent her from further attacking his guards
“Leave,” he ordered, glaring at the guards, who nodded and made a quick exit from the throne room
She refused to look at him, instead focusing her attention on the strings wrapped around her limbs, glaring at them and tentatively pulling at them
“You’ve grown.”
“I'm surprised you recognize me,” she quips back, giving up on messing with the strings and turning to glare at him
“Of course, I still remember the little girl who was stolen from me.” Doflamingo’s lips slightly curved upwards
“I would hardly call it stolen; Uncle Corazon saved me that day, saved me from you.”
“From me?” He said in a soft tone and smirked
“I’ve never harmed you.”
“Who knows what would have happened if I stayed? Maybe I would have become another puppet of yours, or maybe you would have killed me like you did Uncle Cora.”
“I wouldn’t have harmed you; after all, you were still my kin.”
“He was also your kin, your own brother!” she growls at him, a frown growing on her face
“He was a weak-willed, useless fool,” Doflamingo said, showing no hesitation in belittling his dead brother
“Besides, he was the one who went against me; all I did was take care of my problem.”
“Shut up, you don’t get to slander his name!”
“you never met him; you were a baby, so how would you know anything about him?”
“Law told me about him; he never forgot about him, and he told me all about him and you.”
Doflamingo frowned,
“So that boy brainwashed you, didn’t he?”
“You were the one who brainwashed him, and it would have worked if Corazon had not saved him back then.”
“Law was weak, and he paid for it,” Doflamingo said carelessly before standing up and walking toward her
“Law is not weak; he is one of the strongest men I know, something you will never be; he raised me; I got to be a strong independent woman; I got to join the Revolutionary Army to take down assholes like you.”
“You’re still a child who has no understanding of how the world around you works,” he said, getting closer to her
“And you’re still a tyrant who thinks the world revolves around you.”
“Do you really think you’re free? The only reason you aren’t in my dungeons is because you are my daughter, the one that was taken away from me.”
“Oh, how kind of you,” she sneers, sarcasm dripping from her words
“Come back home; there is a throne waiting for you,” he said, placing his hand on her cheek, cradling her face
“What? What are you on about?”
“You would be the princess of the Dressrosa kingdom; what’s so bad about coming back?”
“Like I would come home to a murderer like you,” she said, pulling her head away
“But I’ve never hurt you; I’ve never laid a finger on you,” he said, his voice soft and sincere
“You killed him,” she cried
“You expect me to come home after what you did to him? After what you did to Law?”
“That was a punishment, one he got for betraying me; he knew the consequences of his actions,” Doflamingo said, ignoring her mention of Corazon
“How could you say something like that?”
“Because it’s the truth,” he said, “he knew what would happen if he betrayed me.”
“I loved him, but all he did was betray me, and he got what he deserved.”
“He didn’t deserve to die! You made his life hell from the moment he was small, so how could he not try to bring you down?!”
Doflamingo chuckled,
“I just did what I had to do; I never mistreated him; in fact, he was the closest person to me until he turned on me.”
“Are you going to say the same about Law?”
“Yes,” he said, his tone remained the same and calm
She shakes her head, tears sprouting in her eyes. How could someone think that way of their own family, of a child? As she grew older, Law began to disclose more and more of what had occurred between the three of them, and every time, she grew more saddened as to the harsh life both Law and Corazon had to endure due to Doflamingo
“They were right,” she cries
“I was hoping, wishing that maybe, just maybe, you had changed, but you are just as they described a monster.”
Doflamingo stayed silent, his face a blank canvas with no expression to decipher
His hand returned to her cheek as he listened to her, beginning to move his thumb across it, caressing it and wiping her tears off her face
He sighs, removing the strings keeping her in place
“Come home,” he said, his voice softened, looking at her with soft eyes
She shakes her head, pulling his hand away from her
“This is not home.”
He sighs again, allowing her to step back from him
“It seems no matter what I say, you will not listen to me, not in this state. Go to your room, rest, and we will discuss this tomorrow.”
“My room?” She seethes
“There is no room for me here; I do not live here, nor will I; if you think I'm just going to stay and play at home with you are wrong.”
He lets out a hum at that, a smirk growing on his face
“Perhaps not, but at the end of the day, you are still a prisoner here, so you don’t get a say on what I tell you to do.”
She opens her mouth to protest once again, but is stopped as one of the maids of the castle gently takes her hand.
“Bring her to her room for the night; I’ll send for her tomorrow,” Doflamingo commanded the maid
Despite how disgusted she felt at having to sleep under the man's roof, to accept anything he was giving her, she would need the strength if she wanted to fight down. As she was, she was simply no match for him, so she really didn’t have any other options
She glares at him, allowing the maid to pull her away
“This is not over.”
He chuckled at that, his smile a sharp one compared to the softness he had presented earlier
“I never said it was,” he said before waving her farewell as she was removed from the throne room
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Okay let’s ignore the fact that Koala and Sabo, nor anyone in the revolutionary army would ever let a teen just wander off in a mission to spy such a dangerous person alone, and let’s also ignore the fact also wouldn’t just let a teen leave alone to join the revolutionaries until they were grown up 👍🏼 Gotta make the story happen ya’ll
Taglist:
@imaginarydreams
@amethystviolin
@h0n3y-l3m0n05
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n30nwrites · 1 year
Text
When the Bard seduces the Prince
Summary: Having left your old kingdom, you didn't expect to find yourself back in a palace, especially meeting the cold Targaryen prince known as Aemond. After the struggle of finally admitting your feelings, it did not take long for the two of you to take matters into your own hands.
a/n: I thought of adding more, cause I had a story ending in mind but you guys are really only here for the sex so.
Word Count: 3.6k
Reader: Amab, He/Him (Referred as youngest son and you definitely have a penis) Top Reader, Bottom Aemond
Warnings: SMUT (18++ no minors interact), Praise, degrading, Oral (m receiving), Aemond is fucked dumb (dumbification), dry humping, size kink, dirty talk, riding for like a hot sec, unprotected sex (even if your gay its still probably best to wrap it), begging, hickeys, fingering, grinding, anal, blowjob (swallows), face-fucking, Aemond is possessive but so are you, Small bit of Angst, small bit of Fluff, mainly was writing for porn but added some plot because why not, mentions character death, and Aegon is just a shitty person but only mentioned never really described. Does cussing really need to be a trigger warning after all those tags?
Disclaimer: I don't own House of the Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor story line nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.
comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated.
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How long had it been?
Since you had seen your palace walls? "Your palace" was wrong, your father had still been king when you left, and you would've gotten news had it been anything else. The cunt called your father was far too cruel to be a king, more of a tyrant that didn't care for others. He had six wives, each died either to childbirth or sickness. Because he had only ever wanted heirs, never gave them rest.
He got them. 8 sons, 6 daughters. You were the youngest of the sons (from what you are aware of), and out of the children of 14, the 10th child. In short terms, you were never going to see a throne, though that didn't stop you from having certain privileges. You were still the son of a king, so land and a title would still be given.
You had loved your mother before she died, she was his third wife. The fourth wife was just as kind, but quickly succumbed to the birthing bed. The fifth wife was cruel, and only gave daughters and was therefore deemed cursed. The sixth, and last one that you had met, seemed okay.
No longer were you deemed "The young prince" a title given by your father. You had much preferred the title that the people in the kingdom gave you, "The Princely Bard." because that was all you wanted to be.
A bard, you played a multitude of instruments, things you picked up from your visits in the streets, people were cruel, and even monstrous. But when they worked together, it was beautiful.
You left shortly after your favorite brother died, he was the 3rd eldest, healthy and lively. It was sudden, his body turned purple and blood poured from his eyes and mouth and you had found him like that. The medic said poison, and it quickly made you realize that this castle could no longer keep you safe.
Your siblings became cruel with each other, apathetic. The halls were bland and you had refused to be drained by the crown. You loved your siblings, but you would not die for them.
Especially not for a crown that only has power when people gave it power.
You traveled by boat, The North froze your ass off but Cregan welcomed you warmly despite not even knowing you were a prince. You gained popularity for your songs, your energy. No one really knew what the Young prince looked like, and with your hair cut and having grown more, you didn't seem that recognizable anymore. You sung for the king in Dorne, and got new robes that made you look even finer than you would.
Then you went to Westeros. Dawned in a yellow robe that showed off your body, with your lute strapped onto your back. Westeros was filled with the worst of the worst. Dorne had an acceptance of prostitutes, polyamory, and Bastards. Westeros treated them like they were scum, and yet Dorne was considered savage?
You found it stupid.
And you were vocal, very vocal about your thoughts. You sung about the politics in Westeros, how it was stupid to argue against a woman as a ruler because it's usual that the first born is the ruler, and that men just cause problems. Plus Aegon would be a horrid king, he couldn't even treat women right what makes them think he would be a good king? You had ran into him multiple times in the whorehouse, he had propositioned you multiple times as well.
Aegon was pretty, but he was a horrid man.
You didn't think you would ever meet the Targaryen family. They kept to themselves for the most part. The King was barely showing up to court, Aegon frequented the whorehouses and taverns, Heleana kept to herself in the garden with her fascination with bugs, and Aemond had been studying and training his entire life ever since his eye was cut out, all inside the castle walls. The Future queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen had moved to Dragonstone with her husband Daemon and her children.
Seperated, the house would continue to fall.
It was all fascinating to watch. But not to be a part of the game of thrones, so you had never expected an invitation to the palace.
The invitation was for the wedding of Aegon and Heleana, Siblings to be married because it was a Targaryen tradition. You had been invited to perform there, as your praises had been sung by many council members, the same ones who gave you the information about the family in the first place. It was truly an honor, and the food was something you had missed from your old life. So you had practiced, and perfected, and when the big day came?
You played your heart out.
Maybe that was what caught his attention. You playing your heart out, finding true happiness in the words you sung as you swayed to the rhythm in the songs.
"We'll do it all, everything, on our own."
He stared at you, his posture stiff and everything about him was neat, his outfit was perfect, his hair was perfect, everything about him was perfect. Aemond Targaryen was the perfect son, the prodigal son that deserved better. And Everything was going the way he planned, until he saw you.
Love at first sight doesn't exist, but lust does, and with lust can follow romance.
These feelings he had blossoming for you made his chest ache and his lips quiver.
He chose to dance for your song, any woman was glad to dance with him, and he just wanted to focus on you. He had picked a Martell, and she didn't speak much which caused him to easily pretend he was focusing on her.
"If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?"
Your voice was beautiful, and Aemond just craved to hear you talk to him, and him alone. Some possessive urge for you to belong to him. Aemond never felt like he belonged, never felt like he had something to call his own, even his dragon was supposed to belong to someone else, supposedly. He wanted you to be his.
"Those three words Are said too much They're not enough"
During the bedding ceremony, Aemond sought you out. Ignoring the looks from the women and men, he found you eating in the kitchen.
"Is it normal for you to leave the party so early?"
"You consider that early, my prince?" You smiled at him, and he almost fell to his knees. "I do not wish to watch the consumption of their marriage. I figured it would be best to get my pay and leave."
He couldn't let you leave, not when you've already affected him this much. "My mother is looking for someone to play the gathering held in a few months. She believes you would be perfect." All lies, all to get you to stay. "She has a room for you ready, you would need to confirm all music with her, along with preparing for the gathering."
"Is that so, my prince?" You gave him a coy smile. And Aemond fell hard.
He fell first, landing hard on his knees for you.
Yours was much softer. It took a few weeks to even see him that way. You spent so many moments with him. Walking in the garden or even chasing after Aegon together.
He showed you books, poetries and the histories of the kingdoms, mainly focusing on Westeros. You two spoke of the politics, of his hatred over a fourteen year old. Lucerys didn't deserve the hatred he got, but neither did Aemond. The library was considered a safe space for you.
And you got along with everyone. Alicent didn't seem to mind you, and she seemed to stare lovingly at the two of you whilst you trained with him. Aegon wasn't as rude as he had been to others, which Aemond considers that polite, and Heleana and you were almost as close as you and he were. Otto seemed to be the only one with a problem, and Aemond didn't care much for his feelings.
It was no surprise what followed next.
When Aemond finally accepted his feelings for you, he ignored you. Threw himself into his studying and training and ignored you. After the gathering, you had figured that was that. Tried to say goodbye and instead was greeted with Aemond being cruel to you, saying that there was no use to say goodbye as you were just here for a job. He wouldn't have even noticed you were gone.
It hurt, of course it hurt. You were just starting to fall in love with him. But you weren't going to grovel for him, nor would you cry over him. You just stared him in the eyes and turned away and left.
But not without taking something.
A dragon had hatched, small and black and golden, beautiful. And it flew straight to you as you got into the carriage to leave the castle. It was long and small, and wrapped around your neck, laying on your shoulder. You hid him quickly with your hood as he purred against you.
A dragon, one that seemed to bond to you. He brought you companionship, and while it would baffle some, you had known your family history. Afterall, it wasn't possible that it was just the Targaryen bloodline that escaped Old Valyria, your family had too come from a dragonlord that had isolated himself, before building up his own land.
This dragon was yours, and you were proud to have him.
You weren't going to spend anymore time in Westeros. Figured you wouldn't think of Aemond if you weren't in his kingdom.
But he found you, well you were wanted.
For the theft of a dragon.
The guards found you quickly, anyone was tempted to out you for the cash reward, any man insane enough to steal a fire-breathing dragon was obviously dangerous. You were thrown in a cell quickly, your dragon screaming for you as you screamed at them. "Get your filthy hands off of him! Amrak!" You called for him and he screeched.
You didn't get food for two days, and on the third, Aemond came with a cup of water and porridge. He stood there as you laid down, barely lifting your head.
"You stole a dragon."
"He came to me."
"You committed a crime against the crown."
"Amrak is mine, he chose me."
"You are not a Targaryen." He tsked.
"And yet he is mine." you spoke in high Valyrian. Aemond wasn't the only one that studied, as much as you hated your family and would not die for them you loved every part of them, the history, the good, the bad, and the ugly.
"you were planning to leave." He stated, and you nodded. "Why?"
"I have nothing for me here." It was time to see your old kingdom, time to make the full circle and come back.
"I am here."
"You rejected me." you stated, "you said you wouldn't miss me. You didn't want me the way I wanted you."
"I've wanted you from the moment I saw you." Aemond got closer, "I have wanted you and only you and it is wrong. You are a commoner, a dragonseed, it seems, yet you have captured my interests, my heart, you are the first thing I think of when I wake up and the last thing I think of when I sleep. You have entered my dreams and I cannot escape your eyes, nor your smile." Aemond's hands reached your cheeks and you got closer to him. "You are mine, you have been since I first saw you and you cannot leave me."
"You are mine Aemond Targaryen, and I am yours."
Aemond got you out of your cell, easily defending you to the court, to his mother, and to his grandfather. Alicent had never seen her favorite son act like this before, defending this thief with everything he had. Otto had disapproved of everything, almost sending you to be killed until you had interrupted.
"I could always claim to be the first born son of the king if you'd like." You smiled, having already known Alicent and Otto's plans for Westeros. "I claimed a dragon, very little would question it."
It was an agreement, you would stay in Aemond's wing, remaining hidden in the castle. You and Aemond only got closer.
It was strange, feeling this way about him. You and Aemond no longer hid behind flirtatious smiles, but instead were very open with how you two felt.
God, he was handsome.
The day was a warm day, you had decided to wear some of your Dornish clothing. A bright brown with red accents that was a gift from an ex-lover. You had decided to spend that day with Amrak, he had gotten a little bigger, but not enough to consider kicking him off your shoulders. You stayed in your room with him until it was time to eat, where you took him to feed on the sheep, whilst you ran into Aemond on your way back.
Since the start of your freedom to love each other, he had not been shy about his opinions on you. He stared at you, unabashed with his tongue darting out to wet his lips, you stood taller than him and smiled warmly.
"I haven't seen you at all today."
"I've been with Amrak, and you have been training."
"Yes, I was just on my way to undress." He informed, a tease in his eyes as if you wouldn't dare to join him, he pushed past you gently, and your pursuit for food was forgotten, because Aemond could fulfill any desire you had.
You had locked the door behind him as he slowly starting to take off his clothes, not looking at you but he had known you were behind him. Instead of helping, you decided to follow along, taking a few steps closer to him before taking off the top of your robe, undoing the knots that held it together to reveal your chest.
Patience was a virtue you did not have.
You reached for him, undoing the armor on him leaving him in his shirt and pants, you grabbed at his shoulder and turned him around to face you, pushing him close to you as your mouths collided in a passionate kiss, he reached for your naked chest, pushing his fingers deep into your skin. The two of you could not get enough of each other.
Aemond reached lower, grabbing your ass and massaging them as you two grinded your growing erections on to each other. His hands came to the front, untying them and yanking them down, he pushes you to sit on the bed as he lowers his own body to the ground. Your hand reaches for his head.
And he was beautiful on his knees.
You sat up on the bed, eyeing him as he eyes your cock, hard and long, precum at the top slowly oozing out and Aemond, second prince of the Targaryens, on his knees, hair pulled back only because your hand was wrapped in it, his mouth ‘o’ shaped as drool drizzles down. He stared at it, not even meeting your eyes but you watched as the saliva fell onto your dick, it twitching due to it.
“God your so cock hungry, it’s fucking pathetic” you look at his wide blown eye, shiny and only looking at one thing. “So desperate, my prince, and for a commoners cock…” Another lie you couldn't confess to him, but from the way his hips reached into the air, Aemond seemed to enjoy being talked down on.
Aemond’s mouth was watering, wanting to taste the male in front of him. The second son would’ve never thought that he would be in this position. He had never imagined his life this way, liking men, and especially this man.
God he was in love with you.
As quickly as he came to the thought, you had pulled his head towards your cock, aiming it at his mouth before pushing it into his wet mouth, the pathetic prince desperately got close, licking and sucking as if that was the one role he was good at.
"So fucking pathetic." Aemond moaned loudly, despite him being muffled from your long cock. His tongue licked up and down your shaft as saliva was coating it, you moaned with him. "Such a good cocksucker, my prince." you praised as he went deeper, his nose hitting your naval as he gagged, you did not go gently, your grip on his hair got tighter as you pushed him up and down.
your toes curled as he sucked, and your balls felt heavy as any moment you felt you could cum. "I'm gonna cum..." You expected him to stop, to take his mouth off of you and just jerk you off. But Aemond was hungry for you and instead he put you deeper, and when you came he closed his mouth around you, breathing through his nose and swallowing you.
"God I love you." Your dick fell limp, but only for a few moments would it remain that way. You pulled him up and kissed him, your tongue massaging his as you tasted yourself on him, both of you moaning into each other as your hips collided and he rolled. Your dick was becoming half hard just from your own thoughts, and you were quick to yank off his shirt, tearing it off of him and leaving hickeys as you sucked and licked and bit his neck. You pulled down his pants along with his underwear, and was greeted by his pale skin and long cock.
Your hands trailed behind his back before gripping his ass.
"I want you inside." Aemond groaned as he lifted his hips up, and your fingers quickly found his hole.
"Not without preparing." you quickly stuck your fingers into his mouth and he sucked, "Such a cockwhore, willing to hurt yourself for me. We can't have that, now can we." Aemond's eye flashed down to you as you stared at him. You knew what was behind his eye patch, the brilliant sapphire that was hidden by leather, your other hand quickly left his round ass and found it on the back of his head, as you quickly undid the eye patch and revealed everything to yourself. Aemond closed his eyes but you took your fingers out of his mouth and forced him to look at you.
"Keep your eyes open, I want to see everything when I fuck you." Your wet fingers slowly circled his entrance, before you pushed one in. His eye widened but he kept focusing on you, your finger slowly thrusting in and out as your other hand started touching his cock.
"Please, please, please..." He kept mumbling over and over again. "Want you inside, want you, want you, want your cock, want your thick cock inside me, want you to stretch me out and fuck me."
"So cock dumb, my pretty prince, more like my whore with the way you're taking my finger, so tight. How are you gonna take my cock when you can't even take my finger?"
"I can take it. I can take it. I can take it." He became so stupid, and in his moment of distraction you put another finger in him and he pushed himself on to you. And eventually a third finger joined, pushing them in as deep as you could. "Please I want your cock!" tears filled his eye and you quickly stopped your ministrations and he groaned. Your cock was hard and he pushed it towards his hole, desperate for you, you made sure his hole was right above you and he sat down on you, quickly filling him up as he let out a yell.
You turned his body around on the bed so that you were above him, pushing his hips down and slowly taking your cock out, leaving just your tip in as he whined and twisted. You pushed him down again keeping him straight, and shoved it back in and he moaned loudly. His legs flew into the air and wrapped around you, pushing you into him as much as he could, his ankles digging into your back. Your cock stretched him, and he was so thin despite his muscles, and you could almost swear you could see an outline of your cock in his stomach, and you went feral.
"Mine." You were quick with your thrusts, in and out as you pressed against his prostate constantly. One of your hands left his waist as you pushed against your own cock. "Look at how well you take me. Mine, Mine, Mine." your hand then left to touch his cock, and he threw his head back.
"Feels so good, so good, let me come, please let me come."
"You can come, but I'm not going to stop." His hips shifted into the air, and his cum shot up into the air, but you didn't stop, you were going to fill him up. His cum coated his chest and instead you took his hand and dipped his fingers into his own cum before shoving his hand into his mouth, making him taste himself before his hands wrapped back around you.
Thrust after thrust, you got closer and Aemonds hands wrapped around you as you lifted him up, his nails left scratches on your back. Your cock twitched multiple times before you came inside him, he let out moans loudly as you joined him, both of you panting as you leaned your forehead against his. His hole twitched as you gently took yourself out, he let out little breathy moans as you watched your cum slowly drip out of him, before you pushed it back inside of him.
"Well this is a development..." Aegon said, and Aemond and you turned in horror as your secret was no longer between you two.
"Aegon get out now!" You hissed through your teeth as you covered up Aemond with the blanket on his bed, the second prince felt fear and anger at what his elder brother would do.
Aegon giggled as he slammed the door shut.
"We're fucked."
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it-happened-one-fic · 7 months
Text
Ink and Magic - The Rose-Red Tyrant
Author Notes: So this is a sort of halfway non canon compliant what if with the overblots and their aftermath. I've been considering, for quite some time now, why the Prefect (reader) gets to see what amounts to the overblot victims memories and hear what seems to be their thoughts regarding said memories. So I guess you could say this is a kind of headcanon for what happens in those moments. This isn't exactly romantic. in fact, I would say it counts as more platonic, but it certainly can be taken as shippy. This will also be a series, though the Diasomnia section won't come out until that entire matter is resolved in game. As per usual, reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!
Spoilers for Book 1: The Rose-Red Tyrant!!
[Heartslabyul: You're Here!] [Savanaclaw] [Octavinelle] [Scarabia] [Pomefiore] [Ignihyde] [Diasomnia: To be released]
Type: Gender-neutral reader/ fic series/ Can be platonic or romantic/ fluff/ angst/ comfort/ Spoilers for Heartslabul overblot.
Word Count: 2311
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The ground was a brutal red. Covered in crushed and bruised rose petals that mixed with dark ink and made everything slippery. 
All I could hear were the screams and shouts from those nearby, but rather than fleeing or continuing to shout directions and warnings until my voice was hoarse, I stood silently. Watching in quiet horror as Riddle stumbled, reeling from the magical attacks he’d just received from his fellow dorm-mates. 
His once soft gray eyes were a violent red and wide open as he stared at me with an expression that spoke of shock. Like his entire world had just come crashing down like a house of cards around him.
He was no longer a form of horror, as the monstrosity behind him collapsed in a flood of ink that spread across the already-soaked ground. 
Instead, Riddle now looked pitiful. Like a lost child. He was trembling all over, but he’d at long last stopped attacking, and I honestly wondered if he’d simply run out of steam.
But as I looked at him, an unexpected sorrow swelled within my heart and caught me off-guard as the young man looked down at his hands, still blackened with ink stains.
Bitter tears began to fill his red eyes, and his previously loud voice wavered as he began to speak, “I…. I was wrong?! But that’s…. Impossible…..” 
His hands came up to cover his eyes and hide the tears that now threatened to roll down his too-pale face.
 He was no longer a creature perfectly fit for nightmares, and my heart seized painfully at his next words. So soft and broken that they were barely audible, “Isn’t it…Mother?”
 With those words, he gave a shudder and stumbled forward, his hands limply falling away from his face, which was now streaked with ink from his stained hands.
This was a Riddle I’d never seen before. One that was completely different from the mature but tyrannical young man I’d met.
 This was a young boy who was lost, broken, and one that I simply couldn’t abandon in this moment.
I didn’t know if it was instinct or something else, but something drove me forwards. Spurring me into running towards the young man, who had begun to collapse forward. 
My feet slid against the inky but tattered rose petals that littered the ground. Evidence of the horror we’d all just witnessed. The other students' voices followed me as they let out alarmed cries. Ace’s voice was perhaps the most prominent as he shouted my name. 
The panic in his voice almost made me want to stop even as my tired legs continued to carry me forward.
In truth, I had only one thought in my mind: that the young man in front of me, Riddle, didn’t need to be alone. 
It was a truth that was whispered to me from within my own mind. Something I knew as a solid fact even though I had no proof.
I barely even knew Riddle. All I knew of him was tyranny.
But I held out my arms, catching the small young man that I now realized was quite frail despite the immense magical power he possessed.
 He clung desperately to my shirt with trembling hands, and a sob tore its way out of him. I could practically feel the cold ink staining my shirt as it seeped through the thin fabric, and we both sank to the ground. 
He was exhausted, with his head drooping towards me like he could no longer stay awake. And as my knees hit the soggy ground, a wave of fatigue washed over me that promised me peace if I would just let it carry me away. 
I faintly heard my name get called yet again, but it sounded far enough away to be in an entirely other world.
Perhaps it was a voice from my world, trying to call me back home.
But even with that thought in mind, I didn’t respond. Instead, I fell into a darkness that consumed me, and I slumped forward. Still holding the small, broken boy close to me. As if that could bring him the peace he seemed to so desperately need.
But I wasn’t meant to slumber peacefully here, and though the deep darkness of what I thought was deep sleep surrounded me, I was not truly resting.
I looked around in confusion, looking for someone else in this deep darkness. After all, it didn’t feel like I was alone. It felt like I was surrounded in a space that was filled with only myself and one other person.
 It was a strange sensation, one that left me feeling out of my depth as I glanced around in confusion. Finding that here, I was no longer exhausted or sore from the events that had just unfolded in Heartslabyul. 
Like a glitch on a television screen, the blackness flickered, and a hazy scene appeared. That reminded me of an old black-and-white movie recording. 
Even the voices were crackly.
“Happy 8th Birthday Riddle….” I frowned slightly and shook my head, wondering what I was seeing. 
I had to be dreaming, but…. Something about this didn’t feel like a dream. It felt more like I was trying to sift through my memories and was instead being faced with wholly unfamiliar images. 
A large woman stood, smiling down at an adorable red-haired boy whose face I immediately recognized with an alarmed jolt. 
Riddle. Without a doubt, that was the very same young man who’d just attacked me, my friends, and the other members of the Heartslabyul dorm in the midst of what I could only describe as a psychotic break.
I stared in a strange mixture of fascination and confusion at the scene before me as a voice that, unlike the others, was perfectly clear began to narrate the scene that lay before me. Riddle’s voice.
It sounded like he was right next to me, but when I turned, he was nowhere to be seen. Instead, I appeared to be alone. 
Alone, but I was wholly surrounded by the scene of what seemed to be his, Riddle’s, childhood.
 “I’d always wanted to try one of those tarts with the bright red strawberries….”
His voice was as solemn as ever as it calmly explained the thoughts and feelings of the child Riddle, who seemed to star in all of these scenes. But the image before me did not stay peaceful, and I soon came to realize a darker truth about what was unfolding in front of me.
I listened and watched with mounting horror as memories from Riddle’s childhood, barren of playing and fun, played in front of me like a film. Every bit of it was narrated by a numb-sounding Riddle himself.
My eyes went wide as a young, brightly smiling Trey flashed in front of me. He was accompanied by another boy, whom I soon realized was that cat-like fellow I’d met in the Heartslabyul maze. Chenya, I believed his name was.
It was then, right after their appearance, that everything truly began to snowball out of control. 
Tiny Riddle finally got to experience the joys of childhood, only to be caught by his mother, who enforced even more rigorous rules on him. And it was painful to see the small child, who would someday become the young man I’d met not too long ago, weep as he was denied some of the most basic aspects of childhood.
I was beyond enraged on behalf of the small child in front of me. But what made it worse was Riddle’s voice, which was still narrating each scene even though tears were slowly beginning to choke off his voice, “But Mom… Why? Why does my heart hurt so much?”
I covered my mouth, as if that could somehow help me cope, as I listened to the young man whom I could hear crying, but I couldn’t see nor comfort.
The scene in front of me slowly faded to black, leaving me only with Riddle’s voice, begging for an explanation as I turned, searching for him in vain. But he was invisible, in this darkness, as he pleaded for an answer to his questions, “Tell me, Mom, please….. What rule do I need to follow to make this pain go away?”
I closed my eyes, shaking my head as if that could somehow help me figure out what to do, and then, like flipping a switch, it all stopped.
I opened my eyes wearily, only to find I’d been crying silently as I‘d held Riddle close to my chest. My cheeks were even still wet, judging from how cold the breeze was on my face.
Riddle himself was still asleep. His expression slowly relaxed from an upset that matched his tear-choked voice, which I’d just been listening to, to a more peaceful one that suited him far better. 
And it was a relief to see him relax after having seen what I’d just witnessed in whatever that dream was.
 One of his hands was still fisted in my shirt as he clung to me like a small child, causing me to smile slightly even as I shifted to better examine him. I froze mid-motion as I heard a sharp inhale from just next to me. It was then that I realized that both me and Riddle were not, in fact, being supported by one another.
Instead, it was the young man who knelt next to us who held us upright with his arms wrapped securely around the two of us in a sort of embrace.
I looked over and made eye contact with warm, honey-colored eyes that stared at me, relief sweeping through them as I managed to croak out the man’s name, “Trey.”
He let out an exhale, a relieved smile appearing on his face as his grip on my arm tightened ever so slightly, almost like he was trying to reassure himself that I really was present and that all was well.
“Thank goodness. You’re back,” His voice was soft, more of a breath than anything, and I couldn’t help but wonder what he meant by ‘back’. 
But I didn’t get to ask, and he didn’t get to continue since I heard three familiar voices both yell the same name at the same time.
“Y/N!” 
I half turned, finding I was still exhausted and slumping against Trey a bit more as I spotted Ace and Deuce both staring at me in wide-eyed relief before they both took off as Cater, who was right behind them, was still turning to look at me. 
The two boys' feet dug into the still-inky ground as they darted towards where I knelt with Trey and Riddle. 
Deuce reached us first, hitting his knees and grasping my arms as he scanned me for injury, “Are you alright?”
His voice was trembling as he questioned me, looking up at me with wide, panicked eyes. His expression was mirrored by Ace, who was desperately asking me what had happened while Cater appeared behind them. Carefully scanning both me and Riddle.
“Hey, hey. You’re crowding them. They only just came too,” Trey’s grip on me shifted in an almost protective fashion as he spoke, and I realized I was still relying heavily on him for support.
Crowley walked up far more slowly than the others, his eyes on me and a frown on his face as he began to open his mouth to say something. 
But before he could speak, one of Riddle’s hands, which had been gripping my arm this entire time, tightened slightly, and he made a mumbling sound.
All eyes darted to the young man, who slowly opened his eyes, once more a soft grey not unlike that of a dove’s feathers, with a groan. 
He looked up, making eye contact with me before looking at Trey and then back at me. 
Cater was saying something to both of us, but I'd tuned it out almost completely as I scanned the boy for any injuries. 
Riddle continued to look up at me with hazy eyes as I carefully scanned his small form, frowning as I noted exactly how exhausted he still looked. 
After a brief moment, though, he pulled away from both me and Trey. Distancing himself as his eyes slowly cleared and the gravity of the entire situation sank in.
From there, the situation devolved fairly quickly, with numerous questions being asked and reconciliations being made. Trey swept in towards the end of things, with Cater by his side like two concerned parents. Demanding that me and Riddle both go to the infirmary for a checkup.
It wasn’t until we were alone in that cold room filled with cots that Riddle made eye contact with me once more, “My… memories. You saw them, didn’t you?”
I was silent for a moment as I recalled those strange scenes in flickering black-and-white before I at last nodded, “Yes, I don’t know what caused it but…. Yes, I believe I did…. I heard you too.”
He nodded, falling silent as we waited for the nurse to enter and give us a clean bill of health. After a few moments, he met my gaze again, “I think we…. Connected for a moment there. I don’t know how, but you saw my memories and heard my thoughts. And I… I felt you there.”
I watched him quietly, not sure of what to say as he fell silent. But I couldn’t blame him. I too wouldn’t know what to say or think if some had seen my memories.
After a moment, though, he looked over at me with a troubled expression before he spoke  quietly, “If I were you, I would tell the Headmaster about this.”
I nodded, unsure of what to say since something told me neither of us knew what this meant for me or him.
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praisethesuuun · 1 year
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Can you do romantic headcanons with Poseidon? thank you!
I tried my best, anon! Hope you like it😌
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Poseidon: romantic headcanons
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🌊Poseidon is a very serious and cold person, who can't show his affection with words, so he has to do it with facts. Since he knows he appears distant, he will occasionally give you very precious jewels or artifacts found on the seabed: an example is the pearl necklace - your gift for your anniversary - or a particularly shiny shell.
🌊He is very jealous of his brothers and other deities. He is always by your side whenever you are at a party or a meeting, the only one he trusts is his brother Hades: he knows he would never do him such a big wrong, so you often find yourself talking about your husband together to the King of Hellheim. "But yeah! as a kid he even..." "What's going on here, my dear brother?" "Nothing-"
🌊There is one important thing to say: Poseidon spoils you. He always makes you have the finest clothes, always ready servants and every kind of comfort. "My queen must be perfect" he says every time he gets you a new piece of clothing or a new piece of jewelry, especially since he likes to place you next to him or sitting on his lap when the king sits on the throne.
🌊His little heart of ice melts whenever he sees your kind nature come out. When you help servants even when it's not necessary, or look after a sea creature looking for help or affection...Poseidon feels proud of his wife. He often wonders how you can put up with a tyrant like him, while other deities may give you much more affection.
🌊At the exact moment he discovers that his turn to fight at Ragnarok has come, you decided to give him your small fortune as a sign of good luck. "I don't need something like that" he replied, impassive as always, but still taking the small object in his hands and slipping it into a small secret pocket: putting it there certainly wouldn't have ruined it. The smile that triggered that small gesture was enough to be another motivation to win.
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alastor-simp · 10 months
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How Do They Apologize To You When They Make You Upset/Mad Part 2/2 - Riddle Rosehearts
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Riddle set out to look for you to apologize, asking everyone if they have seen you anywhere, but he had no luck. Riddle spotted Trey at his dorm, tending to the pink flamingos wearing pink as according to the Queen of Hearts rules. Trey noticed Riddle and greeted him. Riddle then asked if he had spotted you anywhere as he had to discuss something with you. Trey then pointed to the garden maze stating he saw you running inside there. Riddle thanked Trey and entered the maze, taking many left and right turns, hoping to find you. Sounds of crying could be heard as Riddle got closer towards the end of the maze. You were sat on the grass, with your legs covering your face, and your arms wrapped around them. A few hedgehogs had surrounded you, sniffing you with their cute noses.
Riddle softly approached you, and sat down next to you, while picking up one hedgehog, and placing it against his chest: "Y/N?", Riddle called out your name. "GO AWAY!", You yelled at Riddle, refusing to look at him. Riddle was conflicted, wanting to hug you, but hesitated since he wasn't use to acts of affection as he had not experience them in his childhood, but he knew he had to apologize to you since he was in the wrong. "Y/N, I came to apologize to you about my actions. I should never had yelled at you about the exam, and instead offer to help you with studying for your other exams. I made a promise to myself and everyone that I would be less strict with the rules and punishments, and I would try to be better, and not a tyrant like I was before, but apparently I haven't changed at all." You had raise your head from your legs, with tears still running down your face, letting out little sniffles as you turned to look at Riddle. "Th-thats not true. You have changed Riddle. I see how you interact with everyone now after your overblot, and you're less strict and more kinder with punishments and not as tough with the rules as before." Riddle gave you a kind smile, as he reached into his pocket, and pulled out a handkerchief, using it to wipe your tears. "Thank you for your kind words Y/N, but that doesn't excuse what I did to you earlier. Do you forgive me?" You gazed at Riddle, who continued to dry your tears with a kind smile. You turned a little bit more towards Riddle and gave him a serious look; "I will forgive you if you do two things for me." Riddle tilted his head; "And they are?", he asked. "Me and you will have study dates whenever an exam is coming up, if you have time that is, since I know you're busy with your tasks as dorm leader." You said as you watched Riddle listen to your words. "That can be arranged. What is the second condition?", Riddle said as he began to softy pet the hedgehog he was holding. Blushing, you held your arms out towards Riddle; "Gimme a hug." Riddles face turned bright pink, not expecting that response from you. You put your arms down and look to the side, embarrassed; "Y-you don't have to do the second one, I know stuff like that makes you uncom-." You were cut off from your sentence, as Riddles arms wrapped around you, as your head was placed against his chest. "Haha, you don't have to ask for something like that. I would have hugged you either way.", Riddle said as you felt his body move from his laughter. You chuckled as you wrapped your arms against Riddle's back and nuzzled closer to his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Riddle smiled and continued to hug you as the hedgehogs gathered around the both of you, watching the sweet moment happening in front of them
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Living Dead
Summary: Before meeting the Emperor, Mortarion meets a girl who might love him. At least that's what he thinks.
Mortarion/fem!Reader
Warnings: Angst, Dark romance, gore/rot (a little bit), obssession, yandere.
Guys, it's all your fault. I wasn't a Mortarion fan before your fics.
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Every day Barbarus defended their freedom. People were no longer afraid. They fought for lives against rotten tyrants. And every day Mortarion was getting closer to his goal. He led all these people with him. But he never felt at home. Didn't find a family. But at least he was “among his own”, and not locked with monsters in a poisonous stronghold.
The poison was a weapon, but also a reminder of the monsters' strenght. He used his power, but he hated it. His whole appearance resembled death. No wonder people avoided him even if he is a reason why they finally fight back. And then he met you.
You lived in one of the distant villages, which was often attacked by tyrants. On one of these days, your spouse was taken away for a play. And although he was able to escape, as Сalas Typhon had once done, he was unable to cope with the top layer of Barbarus. His skin was healing, he smelled of death, and poison oozed from open, rotten wounds. Living Dead.
But you continued to live with him. You accepted him as such a disgusting thing. You loved him.
Mortarion still could not understand how this was possible. He saw how hard it was for you, how often you hid from his eyes to cry out all the tears. How do you stop yourself from gagging at the smell? But you were still with him. You could, no, should have, renounced him. Continue to live and move on.
Nobody understood you. All the villagers said you were crazy. Mortarion's warriors pitied you, but thought you were too naive. As for Сalas, he looked after you for a long time. He said that you remind him of someone and that you're a good girl.
It's true, you were kind. Even too much. And Mortarion himself did not understand how he felt envy of the living corpse. "Father" did not love Mortarion, he did not care about him. His warriors may have respected him, but they were never equals.
And one day he began to wonder more and more often… will you also stroke his hair… hug him tenderly… wash his wounds and help him bathe… will you smile at him as if he is the most beautiful person you have ever seen. Will you kiss him like you kissed your husband?
Such strange thoughts. Insignificant, unimportant, vulgar. Completely out of character for him. Why is it important for him to know what you think about him? What could you do with him? Does he really need to feel affection that badly? To feel not just needed, but loved. He leads thousands of lives. But why does his heart beat so hard when he sees your gaze?
Alas, you are not a witch. The problem is not you. There's something wrong with him. You don't even belong to him. And all your attention is focused on your dying husband. But he won’t even be able to protect you when the lords come to your village. But Mortarion can. He is your true savior.
But everything goes away sooner or later. All the villagers only breathed a sigh of relief when your husband left this world. But not you. You're desperate. You're broken. All alone. There is no one else to give your goods to.
Mortarion himself didn’t notice how he put his hand on your shoulder. And he is so ashamed but so happy to see your haunted tearful gaze. You looked at your husband in the same way before enveloped him in your love.
- No need for tears. I'll take care of you.
He will.
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