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#assassins outline
cluescorner · 16 days
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Randomized Robins AU - Ages + Worst Trait Exercise:
Steph (25):
Says her worst trait is her murderous rages (she is exaggerating for dramatic/comedic effect, she’s killed 3 people tops and for very good reason)
Thinks her worst trait is her spitefulness (one of the few traits she definitely got from her father + one that prevents her from fixing her relationships and living her best possible life. She’ll refuse to interact with someone she dearly loves after an argument (happens significantly less after Tim’s death) or will say things she knows are hurtful just for the sake of having the last word. This trait will worsen in some ways as the list of people who have wronged her and those she loves grows, but will also ease up as she matures and realizes the harm it’s doing to her relationships with those she loves most.)
Her worst trait really is her spitefulness
Cass (26)
Says her worst trait is her self-righteousness (she believes that her goals are righteous and, as a result, she is righteous. Cass becomes very defensive whenever someone questions the mission and often does not second-guess herself. This is a trait she only develops later in life as she grows closer to Bruce/learns to understand herself more/starts to love herself more. But she knows she isn’t perfect and when somebody she trusts criticizes something she is doing she is willing to listen. She just usually isn’t the one to START the introspection.) 
Thinks her worst trait is her self-righteousness. 
Her worst trait actually is her obsessiveness (she gets it from Bruce and, while not as bad as him, she will easily become preoccupied with her night-life and the mission if someone isn’t there to pull her back. She will do this to the point of self-destruction and it hurts her relationships with the people she loves, especially Steph.)
Tim (24)
Says his worst trait is his spitefulness (he actively rejects the idea of mending his relationships with the older members of the family and this causes him to also lack good relationships with the younger ones)
Thinks his worst trait is his obsessiveness (similar to Cass, if he gets fixated on a task or idea he will neglect everything else in his life in order to dedicate more time to it. Unlike Cass, he will almost never be dragged away from it unless Pierrot snatches control of the body and forces them to take care of themself.)
His worst trait actually is how manipulative he is (the KING of guilt-tripping and using people’s emotions against them. He’ll do whatever he needs to do to get what he wants, he’s not above crocodile tears. And he will do it to whoever he needs (or wants) to with little care for how his actions impact others.)
Pierrot (Insists: “Age doesn’t apply to me! And even if it did, I'd probably be the oldest. Or the youngest! I’d never be a middle child, though.” Mental assessments by the Bats have put him around 21, with a margin of error of 3 years. Pierrot has called this “blatant character assassination by my eternal rival!”)
Says his worst trait is that he is an irredeemable psychopath without any regard for the wellbeing of others (this is a lie and everyone who's important to him understands this). 
Thinks his worst trait is his parasitic nature (he literally would not exist had Tim not suffered the way he did. Plus he is a living reminder of one of the worst things that happened to many of his loved ones. He is a parasite injected into a functional person's body and contributes to his continued suffering. This is also a largely incorrect judgement of himself, caused by his actual worst trait.)
His worst trait actually is his limited sense of self (he doesn’t really know who he is outside of ‘inheritor to the legacy of the Joker (a man he despises yet also views as a father)’ and ‘chip in Tim’s brain that became sentient’. He slowly develops an identity over the course of his life and relationships with other people, but he lacks the foundations of identity that most people have. Pierrot will often almost become a caricature of himself and what others perceive him to be because it's the only person he knows how to be. This causes wild swings in how he behaves and relates to others, sometimes to the detriment of himself and others.)
Dick (17) 
Says his worst trait is his clinginess (he is a very extraverted person who likes to be around others, which mixed with his fear of abandonment after his parents died means that if he goes a few days without seeing/talking to a friend he will get very anxious.)
Thinks his worst trait is his anger issues (he gets ticked off very easily and will explode on people. He’s kind at his core and is usually very nice, but he has a temper that can escalate significantly. Spoiler (and later Twist) help him channel this anger into something positive.)
His worst trait actually is his anger issues.
Barbara (18)
Says her worst trait is her disability (internalized ableism, she thinks of herself as less valuable than the other Bats because she cannot be out there in the capes like they can. She will grow out of this as she matures and as she learns how invaluable her support for the team is.)  
Thinks her worst trait is her disability 
Her worst trait actually is her overly-independent nature (In an attempt to overcompensate for everything she can no longer do, she has resolved to do literally everything that she possibly can without any help from others. This results in many instances where she either takes on too much and winds up not being able to fully realize any of her tasks or where she makes her life and the lives of others significantly harder by refusing help when offered/not asking for it when she needs it.)
Damian (16)
Says his worst trait is his perfectionism (he is overly critical of both himself and others, taking any flaw or problem and amplifying it to an absurd degree. This is due in part to his life with the LoA (where even a brief misstep could lead to death), in part to how others treated him initially as Spoiler (any flaw was fixated on and used as a reason to either mistrust him or portray him as unworthy of the mantle), and in part due to the fact that he is Bruce’s son (the only person with worse perfectionism problems than Damian). Gradually, Damian has improved in this regard but it’s still a massive barrier to both his own happiness and his relationships with others.)
Thinks his worst trait is his perfectionism 
His worst trait actually is his perfectionism
Duke (16)
Says his worst trait is his definitely-real secret evil side (says this as a ‘my dad is a villain so who knows??’ joke)
Thinks his worst trait is his impulsivity in his words (Sometimes he will crack a joke or say a remark without thinking it through, leading to a LOT of hurt feelings and drama. He’ll say something without thinking it through and wind up seeming insensitive. This isn’t done because of malice, rather because Duke is someone who’s quick to act and speak. But while the mantle of Insight and his awakening powers have helped him with his actions, they do not always help with his loose tongue. As such, Duke gains an unfair reputation in the media as an instigator and will accidentally cause family drama through what he says.)
His worst trait actually is his impulsivity in his words
Jason (14)
Says his worst trait is his bad manners (he grew up on the streets and has no idea how rich-people society works, which he’s pretty insecure about considering he’s now the youngest kid of Bruce freaking Wayne). 
Thinks his worst trait is his reactiveness (Jason never got the privilege of planning ahead for various events in his life, so he instead needed to rely on being swift and harsh in how he could react to situations. It’s saved his life on multiple occasions and helps significantly in his role as Spoiler, but it can also lead to extreme overreactions (accidentally causing kidnapping scare after Jason ran away following a fight with Dick) and a struggle to plan things out ahead of time. As he grows more secure in his place in the family and in life, this trait will lessen but never fully dissipate.)
His worst trait actually is his reactiveness
#stephanie brown#cassandra cain#tim drake#dick grayson#barbara gordon#damian wayne#duke thomas#jason todd#batfamily#randomizedrobinsau#I'm debating whether I should tag this with the Joker Junior tag and those related to it for Pierrot#because like...it's not quite that. but it's also very close to that and is the direct result of that.#but Pierrot would fucking HATE to be tagged as that and sees it as an insult to his identity...which he already has problems with#so I don't think I'm gonna#anyways lmao I am totally projecting my younger self onto Barbara. How could I not? She's literally the reason I view my disability#the way that I do and she actively improved my mental health just by existing and saying some of the shit she did when I was in the#stages of accepting my own disability. So yeah I am projecting a lot onto her because I love her and see myself in her.#I'm mostly basing these characterizations on my favorite versions of them (ie Red Robin 2009 Tim and Birds of Prey Barbara).#so I'm taking the traits I like/think fit in this AU and discarding what I think either is bad or doesn't fit or if I just don't like it.#Damian's 'murder gremlin who is a meanie on purpose because he is a meanie' is entirely unappealing to me and also does not fit this AU#I prefer him when he's portrayed as a sympathetic kid (who is still an asshole) and not a demon child. So that's what I'm using.#same with Talia's 'abusive mother who is totally on-board with all of her father's bullshit and will kill someone for no reason' version#I have read enough comics to know what I like/what is most important and what I don't like/what is#BLATANT CHARACTER ASSASSINATION GRANT MORRISON YOU FUCK YOU SET TALIA BACK SO FUCKING FAR#I also decided to outline their WORST traits because I already know what I like about these characters/their best traits.#most people do. But what was a greater challenge was finding what would make their lives and those of others worse.#what would I hate about this person if I knew them IRL? What would I first suggest they get therapy for? What hurts them and why?#I found these questions really interesting in the context of this AU where some people are forced into completely different roles#the says/thinks/is was inspired by trying to answer that question for myself. I say my worst trait is my impulsiveness but when#I asked others in my life they answered 'oh so you said your weird thing where you don't ask for help right?'
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teecupangel · 1 year
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Any idea's on a plot where Desmond, Altair, Ezio, and Connor all end up in 'Ark Survival Evolved'? How well would they survive? Would they tame any dino's? Which one's? Will there be romantic relationships? Where would they live? (Feel free to ignore if you don't know anything about ark)
For those unfamiliar with Ark Survival Evolved, the idea is you spawn on the Island populated by dinosaurs and other creatures. For this case, I will only be focusing on the base game and not include any DLCs in this answer. (Although I am very tempted to include Fjordhawk just because of the ‘eagle’ motif… even if it’s meant to be a hawk)
Let’s set it up first.
Our plot will start with all four of them waking up on the Island with no idea how they got there. Every single one of them remembers their life up to the day they die and we’ll be kind and have their body be in their mid-20s (to be more exact, their 25-year-old body, the age Desmond dies) with their Assassin robes (or white hoodie and jeans on Desmond’s case) but no gear but their hidden blade. (but only 1 hidden blade, even Ezio AND no hidden gun as well)
… Or we could totally let them get there naked with nothing, not even a hidden blade, sure.
Now, in this scenario, they would have enough experience to know they’re better off together than doing everything on their own.
They start exploring the island and “holy fucking shit there are dinosaurs there, what the fuck, what do you mean you don’t know what dinosaurs are? Those are dinosaurs!”
So they try to find a safe(ish) place for Desmond to explain what he knows about dinosaurs and they take a break near a stream perhaps. One of them takes off their hidden blade and I would be leaning on this being Ezio because he wants to show his hidden blade to Alta��r to ask if it would be possible for him to recreate the hidden gun in this place when he realized that he has some kind of metallic-like gem with the telltale white glowing lines of an Isu artefact on his arm and everyone checks their left arm and finds they have the same thing.
They start poking around with Desmond being the one dumb enough to actually poke it directly and they find out that they can access an inventory through it, craft things, a screen that shows their level, and unlockable crafting recipes that are called engrams. From their own, it’s by trial and error that they find out that they gain level doing lots of different things.
Their main immediate concern now is to create a shelter before night falls.
From there… well, they’ll definitely try to find out where the hell they were and what were they there in the first place.
PLOT POINTS:
They will definitely die. Multiple times. And just to fuck with them even more, any time one of them dies, everybody dies. No exception. XD Oh! And when they spawn, they have to get back their stuff from their corpses which is always unpleasant and they always spawn on their current ‘base’ as if the metal jewel in their arm knows where to spawn them even if they changed base.
Their engram is a bit different as it seemed to be a strange list of what technology they all know from their time period with the last engrams they can unlock being more in-line with Isu tech. Desmond’s time period’s tech is the second to the last engrams they can unlock.
Ratonhnhaké:ton is their primary hunter and he will teach everyone what he knows. Even some tricks he later learns, long after Desmond stopped watching his memories. When they’re finally setting up their primary base, he’s the one who set up their dino-defenses.
Altaïr is more or less in charge of the forging and crafting of really complicated things. He focused on things that could help them first like weapons and things that would fortify their base.
Ezio is more of the tamer. He’s the one who likes to tame dinosaurs and, dear god, he managed to create a farm of all things. It’s… honestly impressive. He was vetoed from making a vineyard though.
Desmond bounces to whoever needs him most. He mostly acts as their assistant and sometimes, especially in Altaïr’s case, he reminds them that they need to take a break.
All of them had a hand in planning their base but Altaïr and Ratonhnhaké:ton are more on the utility and defenses while Ezio likes to add things just to make it ‘pleasing to the eye’. Desmond usually gets the final vote for some reason even when Altaïr and Ratonhnhaké:ton teaming up should mean that it’s 2 against 1.
Sure, there’s a plot. But let’s be honest… most of us play this kind of games to make bases and ride dinosaurs. If there’s a plot, it will be summarized as either “Isu Bullshit” OR “Abstergo/Rebecca fucked up and created a virtual world for Sample 17’s data”. Take your pick.
Location of their Base:
Ngl, I wanna give them a raft base because that’s one of the safest (sorta) options in Ark Survival Evolved or maybe they can create their base in the Hidden Lake or Herbivore Island as those two are safe bets.
BUT I personally believe they’ll all think that a high vantage point will be their best bet and would go for mountainous areas they can fortify. Also, they would want to be near the center of the island.
Which leaves: The Red Peaks. It has a forest underneath the mountain where they could lose any predators chasing them, lessening the chance of them accidentally bringing a predator to their base.
The idea is that they will end up with a fortress on the top of the mountain similar to Masyaf with an irrigation system connected to the nearest water supply up north.
Altaïr is absolutely fascinated with the idea of electricity.
Dinosaurs:
There is one dinosaur that they will definitely tame: the Argy (Argentavis). They weren’t even planning on creating an aviary for them or even taming them. There were a lot of Argys in the Red Peak and it was either they tame them or they kill of them to secure the location. They decided to just tame them and hope for the best. They definitely lucked out as anyone who plays Ark will tell them that Argys are one of the best (debatable the best) dinosaurs to tame and have multiple specialized dinosaurs.
Desmond insists that they need a T-Rex. Unfortunately, they don’t know what a T-Rex looks like and Desmond isn’t really into dinosaurs so he made a mistake. They tamed a Carnotaurus named Rex.
They never let Desmond forget it and they gave him a T Rex as a gift. The name of Desmond's T Rex is Cars.
Ezio has a Dodo farm. Desmond is just happy they have eggs. Ezio keeps telling him not to name the dodos just in case they need emergency meat. Desmond still names them. In Desmond’s defense, he named them after Templars he knows. Ezio hates the Dodo named Cesare the most… because it gives the best eggs.
Ratonhnhaké:ton has a squad of Raptors that go hunting with him. No jokes are made about that dinosaur film with a similar premise because Desmond is dead before that movie was released.
Altaïr doesn’t really tame dinosaurs as he’s busy making new things for them to use. His idea of taking a break is checking the tamed dinosaurs on their base and sketching them, most of the time writing observations of their habits and appearance. Desmond suggested they get him a cat as a pet… the only cat they could find nearby was a Sabertooth. They still gave it to Altaïr anyway.
Romance:
… It’s me, nonny. If there’s gonna be any romance in this plot, you know it’s gonna be AltDes or an entire harem for Desmond. XD
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thelittlestspider · 5 months
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if i could actually focus long enough to write ths it would probably hit 50k easily.
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mellowthorn · 5 months
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nothing like checking the timeline of a book for a fic and realizing your age calculations were like three years off lol
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hauntedfalcon · 8 months
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my shittiest superpower, apart from the anxiety, is picking up on hinted plot points in the media I’m consuming, and then being disappointed when they get dropped completely
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potatoesandsunshine · 4 months
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sometimes you just..... you just gotta write the thing that's Just For You
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noficbyhalves · 7 months
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Anyway more altmal wip trash:
"They're sitting in the living room, in the midst of Malik's six-or-seventh attempt at a magic-compatible cell phone, when Altair broke the silence. He'd been quieter than usual, which wouldn't be terribly concerning except for the fact that Altair was the one to ask if Malik was free in the first place. (Malik had answered 'yes' regardless of the screws and chips and plastic bits strewn across the table and the massive electrical manual he was several hundred pages into, because his response to Altair being willing-and-able to see him over the summer months was starting to border on Pavlovian. Altair had at least been gracious of being commandeered to wield a screwdriver.)"
(Is this a completely unrelated AU to the last one? Yes. Don't judge me.)
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🎶🛠️⛔
<3
🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately? Not really, because I end up singing along and then not writing. I get too much into the jams. I listen to a bunch of video essays though, especially ones about writing advice. And sometimes I just sit in silence, typing away. Not related to writing, but I do listen to Pink Floyd's The Wall on repeat ever so often.
🛠What tools/programs/apps do you use to write? I use Pages, because I was born and raised with Apple. xD Lately, I've started using the Notes app for writing too, because I can write on my phone on the go, and then copypaste it directly to the Pages document.
⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped? I have three wips with nothing published I'm waiting to get back to, because I still love the ideas, I just have a hard time continuing them. I'm not scrapping them, two of them are 80k+, I'm in too deep. Back, ages ago though, I started a bunch of fanfics that I only got a few pages into, then never finished. For example, I have a file on my computer which is half a page long called "science fiction AU" I wrote in 2013, and there's no indication of what the story was going to be about going forward apart from spamano happening. There's just a (bad) introduction to Lovino and half an introduction of Antonio, with some shoddy world building (something about space slavery? Ew), and I am never continuing that. :'D
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harryforvogue · 1 year
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got inspired and outlined a fantasy story 🤠
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the-faultofdaedalus · 2 years
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#‘’average erro fic goes through 3 drafts’’ is statistical error: remoetal au and it’s 3000 drafts and draft outlines#is an outlier and should not have been counted
lmaooo ily
tjdkdkds i’m not even exaggerating that much. i don’t have drafts OR outlines for like anything else and then there’s remortal. the motherfucker who’s OUTLINE is 12k and not done and gets revised on the daily. this fic makes me feel like fucking ishmael. i’m dying
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AU where Jason comes back to Gotham and begins his plan to confront Batman and all that. Except after only like a week the Joker gets hit by a bus and then shot by a little old lady with a shotgun and dies.
Jason’s plan is now in shambles because the dramatic climax of his plan is no longer possible. But that’s fine. He’ll think of some other suitable alternative. Granted, it’s not quite the same if he uses some other villain. Making Batman choose doesn’t mean nearly as much when it’s not about the person who killed him.
And really, is he going to try and get Batman to kill Black Mask or something? Scarecrow? Red Hood is competent; he could do it himself so why bother.
So Jason lays low continues to build his criminal empire with astounding speed and efficiency. If only he could think of a good way to announce his return. Nothing he can think of is dramatic enough.
Meanwhile, the Bats are freaking out because who is this guy that’s taken over half of the Gotham underworld in like a month? He’s obviously trained, but they just can’t seem to get any information on who he is or where he came from. It is beyond frustrating.
After a few months Jason is frustrated that he just can’t seem to find any dramatic good way of making Batman prove himself. It has to be something big! Something magnificent!
During his weekly chat with Talia he complains about his problems and she suggests he come back for a visit. He argues that he can’t just leave, but she says if he has competent enough lieutenants it’d be fine. He spends the next three weeks making sure that everything will be fine if he leaves for a week. He will not have all of his hard work falling apart and going to waste due to incompetence. Absolutely not.
So then once his lieutenants are sufficiently prepared (and the rest of Gotham’s criminal element sufficiently cowed), he heads to Nanda Parbat, only to find Ra’s on the phone with Bruce, who is demanding to know if the Red Hood has any affiliation with the league.
Oh. Oh. He can give them affiliation.
A new plan begins to form.
He’s going to be the most affiliated he can be. Jason immediately goes to Talia with his newest plan: Overthrow Ra’s and takeover the league. Talia whips out her forty step outline for overthrowing Ra’s and tells Jason she’s so proud of him.
Jason has a new goal now, so he gets to work. He checks on things in Gotham, but everything seems to be fine and there haven’t been any unplanned explosions so it should be fine if he stays here for a bit.
Taking over Gotham really was good practice, as it turns out. Thanks to Talia’s plans and previous foundational efforts the takeover happens in no time.
Meanwhile the bats are still freaking out. Red Hood hasn’t been seen in three weeks, he may or may not have league of assassins connections, and even in his absence his goons seem to be managing things competently.
Back in Nanda Parbat, Jason and Talia finish their takeover. And now, finally, he’s ready to confront Batman.
He arrives in Gotham as the new head of the league. His arrival is loud, elaborate, and dramatic enough to fulfill his inner theater kid’s dreams.
Batman is speechless. And not his usual grunts instead of words, but actual surprised speechless. Jason is alive?!?!?!?
Jason was not expecting all the tears. And hugs. And mother henning. Goodness gracious, this was not part of the plan.
Bruce is obviously struggling with Jason’s revelation that he took over the league, but the newest little birdie seems almost relieved at that(?) and Dick and Alfred both seem strangely proud. Whatever. Even Bruce seems to be at least mostly ignoring that for now.
Then someone asks him if he knows Red Hood. Jason blinks. Says that yeah, he knows Red Hood. Everyone seems to ease at that. One mystery solved. Jason quickly realizes that most of them have no idea he is Red Hood. Cass seems to be the only exception but also appears amused and willing enough to not mention it.
Dramatic appearance complete, Jason now has a new goal: see how long he can keep the bats (minus Cass and potentially Alfred) in the dark about his crime boss identity.
He will bribe Cass as much as it takes to keep her on board with the causing chaos plan, but she seems eager enough. Favorite sibling status definitely unlocked. (The whole killing thing is fought over at great length and a truce of sorts is eventually made)
David Cain is never heard from again.
Damian shows up at some point.
At least one league member has suddenly found themselves as an HR rep for Gotham criminals? They’re still not quite sure how that happened.
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Hate Sex with Kate Bishop
Kinktober Day Thirteen!
KATE BISHOP X MASC FEM!READER
Word Count: 4.5K
18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
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WARNINGS: Swearing, hate sex, public sex, sex in a closet, strap-on use, switch!Kate, dom!reader, fingering (kate!receiving), heavy make-out, Kate being bratty, pre!Hawkeye show, might be a little ooc sorry :(
SYNOPSIS: From a distance, Kate was able to fantasize about you and all the filthy things that she wanted to do with you, and to you. There was just one problem: You were her mother's assistant, and you were the rudest bitch to ever step foot in Bishop Security HQ.
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“I hate you.”
“I hate you more.”
If there was something she prided herself on, it was her ability to find kindness in anybody. Even when her mother was arrested on Christmas, Kate still visited her in prison. And even with that black widow assassin, Yelena, she still couldn’t help but like her even after she attempted to kill her.
Kate saw the best in everybody, and she’s never hated a single person in her life… Until you came along.
What was it about you that pissed her off so bad? Why did she say things like “I hate you” to your face? Who even were you in this scenario?!
You worked at Bishop Security Headquarters. You used to be her mother’s administrative assistant, handling all of her paperwork and business calls like it was second nature to you. Whenever Kate had saw you working before, she would end up staring at you… The women in this office always wore those ugly pencil skirts and frilly blouses under horrendous blazers and heels too high for comfort. But not you.
Kate felt her heart stutter in her chest when she first saw you on the second week of her internship. You had a briefcase in your hands along with a cellphone in the other. There was an earpiece on your left side, just hiding the many piercings of your ear and the nose ring that she thought was so cool at the time. You wore almost no makeup, just mascara and lip gloss.
And the suits you wore? They all looked custom made to fit you. She could see the outline of your muscles through the fabric of your button-up shirts that were perfectly tucked into your dress pants. Every day you wore a new solid color business suit, and a tie to add a complimentary color to your outfit. Your hair was short, and Kate noticed your angled undercut, and the tattoo down the back of your neck.
Needless to say, Kate was horny for you. Every time you walked past reception; you didn’t even look up as Dee let you inside of the office building without a word. You were so busy on your phone that you never looked up. Kate saw you almost run into the glass doors on many occasions because Dee wasn’t quick enough to open the door.
She saw you at her mom’s home as well. You were usually around helping her with everything and making her life easier, but you hardly acknowledged Kate when she was around. It got to the point that Kate didn’t think you ever actually saw her.
And then one day, you didn’t have a choice.
Kate was late. She had a huge cup of iced coffee in her grasp as she made her way across the lobby to the building, her fear rising at being reprimanded when she was knocked onto the ground, iced latte clattering down to the concrete floor as a heavy body was knocked down and on top of her.
“Shit, shit, fuck,” The sound of your voice had her cheeks burning red as she looked up to meet your icy gaze. Kate forgot how to breathe… you were even more hot up close like this. And you smelled like cinnamon, fuck. “You didn’t see me coming?”
And just like that, Kate was offended. Didn’t matter how much pressure you were applying to her in all the right places, or how good you smelled. You were the one that ran into her. Not the other way around.
“Maybe if you get off your phone for more than five seconds, you would have seen me coming—”
“Wait, stop—” You shushed her and sat back on your knees, practically straddling Kate and making her breath get caught in her throat. You pressed a finger to your earpiece and nodded for a second and then responded. “Yes, I’ll have that ready by this afternoon. Mrs. Bishop has very important matters to handle, so I will be taking care of it personally.”
“Can you just- Move it!” Kate aggressively shoved you off of her body, forcing you to stand up off her and you reached for the briefcase that had slid across the floor. Almost immediately, you could smell the caramel and saw that Kate’s coffee had gotten all over the back of her shirt, and into her long hair.
“Watch where you’re going next time, Ms. Bishop,” Was all you said before you headed for the elevator and did not hold it for her. Kate was fuming. How entitled were you that you thought it was her fault!?
Since that day, Kate couldn’t even look at you without scowling. It didn’t matter how hot you dressed, how pretty your hair was, or how every so often you would switch out the piercing in your nose for something new. No, Kate was still pissed off. You were acting like she was nobody; like she didn’t even exist. She was your boss’s damn daughter!
It didn’t take long for her to be openly hostile toward you. When she saw you throughout the office, she would purposely run into you, shoulder-checking you. “Watch it, secretary.” Was what she would say. You weren’t a secretary… You were an administrative assistant! You were someone important! She was just the company owner’s brat daughter and useless intern!
It would have been so easy to ignore Kate’s childish antics for a long, long time… But unfortunately, her mother had other plans.
Eleanor was throwing a party for her clientele, and she made sure that Kate was going to be there. And then she revealed to her daughter that yes, you would also be there. And you would be staying in close proximity with Kate all night long. Kate had been questioning why you were going to hang around her all night long, and Eleanor reminded her daughter that not only did she have a habit for wandering off and not coming back, but she also liked getting into nonsense trouble.
You would keep her in line. Right, yeah, you’d totally keep her in line…
Kate felt ridiculous. She was in a sparkly purple floor-length evening gown that was off her shoulders and her hair was held back by silver flower clips. And while she felt silly, you had nearly lost your balance at seeing her.
It was probably the first time she saw you look at her for more than ten seconds… Of course, you were in a suit. Of course, you had a tie that matched the color of her dress. And of course, it looked fucking incredible on you, like everything else you fucking wore. It pissed her off even more.
“Ms. Bishop,” You cleared your throat a little and bowed down, holding out your hand for her and making her roll her eyes.
“Don’t try to be nice to me,” She said, shooing your hand away and walking passed you. You looked dumbfounded. “This must be killing you.”
“You know what?” You squared your shoulders back a little and decided that you’ve had enough of her damn attitude. “You’re right. I’d rather be anywhere else than here with you right now.”
“And what is it about being in my presence that is so freaking bad for you?”
“You’re a spoiled little brat who is too hot for her own good and thinks she can get whatever she fucking wants with that damn look you give people,” You scowled, not holding back even a little. “You only work at HQ because your mother owns it. You don’t do a thing there except waste time.”
Kate didn’t hear anything other than you calling her hot. Her cheeks burned red, but she wasn’t backing down. “At least I’m not some workaholic who doesn’t even know how to look up from her phone for more than ten seconds before walking headfirst into someone!”
“That was months ago, are you being serious right now?” You crossed your arms together and Kate swallowed hard at your muscles contracting under the fabric. “You aren’t helping my case here by whining like a brat.”
“And you’re just a… A bitch!” Her voice echoed so hard in the halls that other guests ended up staring at you two. For a second, you had forgotten where you two were and before Kate could fight back, you were grabbing her on the arm and dragging her away from the scene. “Hey! Let me—”
You didn’t listen. You simply tugged her into a supply closet and locked the door behind you as you slammed it shut. “You want to fight? Let’s fight, Ms. Bishop.”
“This is—” Kate laughed incredulously, her face paling a little as she realized just how close she was to you in the small closet. You smelled even better when she was almost touching you like this. “You’re being ridiculous, you know that?”
“And what are you being then, huh? A child? A pussy?” Kate stumbled back as you slammed your hands on either side of her head, standing as tall as her and leaning forward just enough for her to feel your breath against her face. Kate shivered, and you noticed. “A brat?”
“I am not a brat,” Kate almost snarled, her heart pounding in her chest. A low, seductive chuckle left your throat, and the Bishop girl felt her knees tremble as you reached with one hand and gently tilted her head up to meet her gaze. You licked your lips, and she noticed. Her stomach was twisting all over again and she felt like her body was on fire.
Kate breathed, “I hate you.”
You snarled. “I hate you, more.”
There was no telling who truly closed the distance first. It was a mess of lips, tongue, and teeth as you slammed your mouth down against hers and began to kiss Kate with a desire that you didn’t know was in you.
Your entire body slotted against her, whimpering at feeling her own strength against yours. And while Kate wasn’t as muscular as you, she was just as strong. Her hands curled into the front of your suit, and she let out a soft whine as you broke the kiss and reached down with both hands, grabbing her thighs.
“Just… need that attitude fucked out of you,” Your words sent electric shocks throughout her entire body. Before she could bring herself to protest, you bent down and lifted her up off the floor, wrapping Kate’s legs around your waist and sliding your lips down to her neck.
Kate fisted her fingers in your hair and scowled aggressively, pushing down against your hips in an attempt to show her dominance, but what she got in return was something she was not expecting. Her breath got caught in her throat and the sensation of something pressing against her…
“Did you—” Kate looked offended for a brief second, her brows pulling together as she looked up at you. “You fucking plan this?”
You chuckled, leaning forward and gently grazing your teeth across her jawline. “Not that it’s any of your business, Bishop… but I tend to enjoy these parties a bit more than you.”
Kate was slightly pissed, but more intrigued than anything. Why would you be packing? What is it about these parties that makes you wear… Her entire face went red, and she looked up at your stern gaze, pressing her lips into a thin line. “You planned on taking someone home with you.”
“I planned on taking someone home with me,” You admitted, gently rubbing your thumb across the underside of her chin before aggressively grabbing at her neck. “Now don’t make me fucking regret dragging you into this closet, and not that cute girl from finance.”
Kate knew who you were talking about. Christy was short, adorable, feminine, and every masc lesbian’s fantasy. Kate would know, because she’s thought about fucking Chrissy too. Suddenly, Kate felt like she shouldn’t have been in here with you, but you were quick to put those fears to rest. Very slowly, you reached down and pulled on of the straps off her shoulder and nipped your teeth along her soft skin.
“Fuck,” Kate pressed her head against the wall, her hips pushing down against the strap in your dress pants. You grabbed the front of her dress and pulled it down as far as you possibly could, feeling Kate put her arms down so she could slip them out of her dress. You pushed the fabric around her waist and one of your hands gripped at her chest, running your thumb across her nipple and kissed at the pulse in her neck. “D-Don’t think I…I like you now…”
“Don’t mistake me fucking you for me liking you either, Bishop,” You scowled, teeth biting down briefly against her neck and making her buck forward against your hips. Continuing to play with Kate’s soft breasts, you held her up simply with your own body and the strength of her legs around your waist in order to fully feel her in your hands. “You’re still a spoiled brat that needs a severe attitude adjustment.”
“Yeah?” Kate taunted, pulling hard enough on your hair that you had no choice but to lift your head up and meet her gaze. “Hope your dick is the adjustment you’re talking about.”
A low sigh of arousal left your throat as you reached down between both of you and pressed your fingertips against her. Kate gasped, fingers shaking for a second as you found her cunt and began to rub at her clit overtop of her panties almost immediately.
“Oh wow,” You teased, wearing a grin that made her pissed off and horny at the same time. “Fucking soaked for me, Bishop.”
“Shut up, you secret—ohfuck…” Kate couldn’t finish her words. You cut her off when you yanked her panties to the side and slowly began to push one of your thick fingers inside of her dripping cunt. Her nails bit into the fabric of your suit and you breathed slowly, almost like this was just another day for you.
“I am your mother’s assistant. I am important. Without me, your company will fucking drown, Bishop… I’m no secretary,” You pushed her up on the wall a bit more and Kate stared into your eyes, almost like she was trying to challenge you with eye contact. “You’ll address me with respect when I’m knuckle deep inside of your pussy. Understand me?”
Kate was about to voice her thoughts, and then you added another finger. Kate immediately gasped, her eyes going back in her head as you chuckled and pressed soft little kisses across her neck. The Bishop girl felt like she was completely at your mercy, feeling you push her panties away every few seconds to keep them off your area of work.
After moving them for at least the sixth time, you were getting very angry. “Oh, fuck this.” Kate let out an embarrassingly loud whine as you removed your finger from her cunt, tucking it into the crotch of her panties, and pulled. The sound of the fabric snapping against your strength was a whole new reason for her to be aroused, but then she realized that you ripped off her underwear.
“Are you kidding—” Kate glared at you. “You know I’ve only got one of those, right?”
“Your dress is long,” You teased, reaching with your other hand and pushing the waist of your pants around your hips. Very quickly, you wiggled out and rested the pants around your upper thighs, just low enough to pull the strap-on free from its confinement. “It’ll hide your stretched out pussy just fine.”
“W-Wait, wait,” You saw her start shaking with slight fear but ultimately, she just wanted to look into your eyes when you pushed forward, lining your deep purple strap with her cunt. You promised to go slow, holding her thighs with both hands and watching the strap slowly disappear inside of her cunt. You stopped halfway when Kate whimpered and grabbed your shoulders harder than you expected. “Fuck… Ohmyg…. Nnnnn…”
“Hey… hey Bishop, look—” You saw her throw her head back and almost give herself a concussion before you grabbed at her face and made her look down. “Kate, look at me.”
Kate gasped, eyes widening as she looked down into your eyes and felt her face turned a deep crimson at your words… It was the first time you had ever said her first name. She wanted to hear you say it again.
“Again,” Kate begged, her fingers trembling as she looked down at your cock and slowly rolled her hips a little bit. “P-please… say it again.”
You smirked. “What? Say what again?” You pressed your chest against hers and she whined at the feeling of your soft dress suit rubbing on her poor sensitive nipples. You kissed over her neck and began to slowly move yourself against her, hips giving short and slow thrusts against her. “Want me to call you by your name again?”
“Please!” Kate begged. “M’s-sorry! Y-you’re not a s-secretary… You’re i-important, I just… Oh please just…” The sound that escaped her was so loud that you needed to keep her quiet or you both would get caught. You pressed your lips against hers as fast as possible, swallowing her moans down and slowly picking up speed.
“Kate,” You moaned against her mouth, dragging out another beautiful sound from the archer. Her fingers fisted in the front of your suit jacket, and she began to try and push it off of you. She felt you smile against her lips and began taking the jacket off your shoulders. Kate started to unbutton the front of your shirt, all while you kept a gentle speed of thrusting your silicone cock into her warm cunt. “Yeah? You want my clothes off too?”
“Shut up,” Kate huffed, finally getting the last button of your shirt undone and shoving that down over your shoulders as well. It gathered in a heap on the floor as you sighed and allowed Kate to do what she wanted to this time. Her hands ran along the sides of your defined arms, and she dug her nails into the muscles on your shoulders, losing her breath for a second as she felt you speed up.
“Still got an attitude?” You said. “L-Let’s get rid of that, huh?”
“Harder,” Kate begged, grabbing at your face and panting against your mouth. “Harder please… fuck me like you mean it!”
“With pleasure, Kate Bishop.”
You had clearly been holding back. Your hands gripped her hips, and you pushed her against the wall a bit harder. Your muscles flexed as you kept her off the ground and reangled yourself just right to slam the entirety of your strap inside her pussy.
The archer grabbed at your biceps, gaping at you with wide eyes and heart pounding behind her ribs. The strap stretched her out perfectly, and you were moving in the most wonderful way that she almost forgot why she actually hated you.
This is what Kate had been wanting ever since she met you. A few times she had dreamed of using a strap on you as well, but this was what most of her fantasies consisted of. You drag her into a secluded corner of the HQ office and fuck her senseless. But she wasn’t going to admit that out loud any time soon. For now, this was just a hot accident.
“Fuck, listen to yourself,” You taunted, leaning forward and whispering down against her neck. Kate wrapped her arms around your neck and pushed her entire face into your shoulder, trying to stifle her cries of pleasure with every thrust into her pretty pussy. “Whining so pretty for me, little brat… Sound like such a little slut—”
“N-Not a b-b-brat,” Kate hiccupped against your skin, breathing you in and admiring how your tits bounced in the confinement of your black laced bra. It looked so gorgeous against the muscles in your chest and she couldn’t stop herself from reaching down and undoing the hooks on your back.
You pulled the fabric off your body and dropped it on the floor next to you, still holding Kate up off the floor with all your strength working overtime. It was clear that this wasn’t exactly difficult for you… Like you’ve done this many times before.
Kate spoke as best as she could, gasping and yelping as you began to use her own body weight to fill her at a new angle, lifting her off your strap and dropping her back down. Kate was practically riding you now, and she was loving every single fucking second of it.
“H-How ma-many girls in the office h..have you d-done this with?” Kate tried not to sound jealous.
You chuckled, leaning up and kissing her jaw. “Why? You hope you’re the first?”
Kate could tell you were masking how much you liked this. You tried not to sound winded, nor did you try to show the pleasure this was bringing you, but it was obvious with how you were holding her. Kate was having a serious effect on you, and she was basking in not only you fucking her, but also this long awaited attention from you.
“Let’s just say,” You said, lifting her chin up and looking into her eyes. Kate whimpered as you rolled your hips at just the right angle and the strap bumped against her clit, making her see stars behind her eyes. Kate whined pathetically. “You… are the prettiest girl I’ve ever fucked in a closet before.”
That told her nothing, but with what you were doing? Kate was beyond caring.
The archer grabbed at your hair and bit down on your shoulder, keeping her sounds contained as you split her open. The way your hips moved just right to hit her deepest spots… The way that you managed to bring friction to her clit when you moved just perfectly, how you were holding her so tight and aggressively, how your tits were pressed against her own, basking in the warmth and solidness of your body… She wasn’t gonna last long.
“OhGOD… Ohfuck I’m gonna… nnnnn…”
“Yeah? You gonna cum on my cock, Katie?” You taunted, much to her pleasure. Kate nodded, her body shivering against yours as you pulled back enough to see into her eyes. They were watering, rolling back in her head, and her eyelids were struggling to stay open.
You noticed all of the little changes to her demeanor. Her fingers flexed against your hair, and you felt the muscles in her legs tense up as she held you closer and began to grind against your cock to try and give more friction to her clit. You got the message and slowly licked your fingers before sliding your hand between both of your bodies.
“Oh baby, you’re real sensitive, aren’t you?” Kate nodded, biting her lip and looking so desperate to reach her high. You wanted to see her cum so bad. When your fingers pressed against her clit and began to rub at it as fast as possible, Kate had to cover her mouth with one of her hands to hold in her moans. “You like when I rub your clit like that? Like when I touch you like this, Katie?”
Kate’s brows pulled down as she pressed her back into the wall and you got to watch your strap pump into her pussy, making you shiver with pleasure. It looked so pretty and so fucking messy… You wanted to taste her so bad. The archer whined, tears filling her vision as she begged, hand muffling her words. “Please don’t stop… pleaaaaase, m’so fucking close…”
You readjusted your angle once again, spreading your legs apart a little more and grabbing at her waist, slamming the cock so hard inside of Kate that you worried you may end up bruising her.
But those thoughts were put to rest when you saw what Kate looked like as she came on you. Her entire back arched and she rolled her eyes back in her head, slapping her other hand over her mouth and shaking against your tight hold. Her body hit the wall and she bucked her hips down against your strap, taking you in as deep as humanly possible before she collapsed on your chest.
Your thrusts began to slow as you tried to calm your own heavy breathing. Very slowly, you turned around and pressed your back to the wall, sliding down the surface and sitting on the broom closet floor with Kate in your lap, strap still buried deep inside of her.
You could feel Kate’s heart against your own, listening to her heavy, harsh breathing and the way your soft touches sent her shivering against you. For some reason, you were acting sweet with her… Kate half expected for you to drop her to the floor and walk off the second she was finished, but you were sitting on the floor with her in your arms, holding her and whispering sweet things into her ear as she came down from her high.
“Did so good f’me, Katie… So proud, sweet girl…” You praised, kissing her neck and nuzzling against her.
Kate huffed, pushing herself back a little more just so she could look down into your eyes, her own dilated and wild from her orgasm and the adrenaline racing through her body.
“I don’t… get it…” Kate breathed through heavy inhales. “Y-You’re being s..so nice… Why do you hate me so much?”
You frowned and hid your face in her chest. Something Kate was not expecting. “You’re off-limits, Kate… You are my boss’s daughter. You are forbidden… I shouldn’t even be alone with you, let alone making you cream all over my dick.”
“I didn’t—” Kate whined when you grabbed her ass and rolled her hips against your lap, feeling the tip of your strap touch her deepest sweet spot and her toes curled up. “Okay, okay fine! I did! B-But why act like you—”
“If you hated me… I could pretend like I didn’t like you,” You admitted, shame written all over your features. “I didn’t want to admit shit I knew wouldn’t happen.”
Kate frowned, pushing your bangs out of your face and running her fingers across your jaw. “And now?”
You snorted. “Never been too good at seeing into the future, Katie…”
A moment of comfortable silence passed between the both of you as you glanced down at your watch and saw that a whole hour had passed within the supply closet. But the party was still going on and it seemed that no one noticed the two of you were missing. You grinned.
“We’ve still got time, miss Bishop,” You leaned back a little and teased her, gently lifting your hips up and making her bounce on your lap. Kate pushed her hands against your chest and gasped but couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “Let’s see if you ride as well as you shoot.”
“Oh, game on.”
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jey-corvid · 2 years
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okay why the hell do i write like this
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flowerandblood · 4 months
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The Man in the Black Mask
[ Amor • Aemond x Psyche • female ]
[ warnings: angst, violence, assassination attempt, mention of the murder of multiple people, descriptions of murders ]
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[ description: After she is attacked in a fair by a strange man and narrowly avoids death, her father the king decides that from now on she will be watched over by one of his 'ghosts', a assassin acting on his orders, wearing a black mask. The man follows her like a shadow, accompanied by their past, which keeps her awake at night. Gothic horror love story, angst, sexual tension, very dark Aemond. ]
This story is several requests combined into one: sworn protector x female; Amor x Psyche; Phantom of the Opera! Aemond x female. I took the liberty of creating a completely new story from this, having only elements of each of these requests.
Series & Characters Moodboard Lady Walford Moodboard Gothic & Horror Sensual Moodboard
Part 2 - The Man with the Empty Heart | Part 3 - The Man with the Lost Soul | Part 4 - The Man with the Cold Lips | Part 5 - The Man with the Deep Scar | Part 6 - The Man with the One Eye | Part 7 - The Man with the Golden Gift | Part 8 - The Man in the Black Crown | Part 9 - The Man with the Bloody Sword | Part 10 - The Man in the Black Gloves | Part 11 - The Man in the Death Cloak | Part 12 - The Man with the Pearly Hair | Part 13 - The Man with the Fiery Gaze
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
_____
Her father, the king, only realised how many enemies he had after a man dared to attack her while she was strolling around the fair during one of her walks. He wanted to get closer to her and slipped a dagger out from behind his cloak, if it hadn't been for the woman selling fish and her shouting, she wouldn't have noticed him or the steel gleaming in his hand.
She did what any other person in her position would have done, which is to say, she screamed in terror, stepping back, bumping into a wooden makeshift table full of vegetables, which toppled over with her, the assassin giving up at the last moment, terrified by the sudden outbreak of panic, and disappeared among the crowd.
Some elderly man helped her up, the knights of her father's guard rode up on horseback, alarmed by these frightened noises, one of them, Ser Lucas, her father's friend from his youth and the great rebellion furrowed his brow as he saw her face.
"Princess?"
She wasn't sure if her father was more furious with her or with the man who had tried to attack her. He commented on her irresponsibility and disobedience, her recklessness, and expressed outrage that her guards had not even noticed how she had escaped them.
"I just wanted to see the fair, my king." She said in a trembling voice without looking at him, she stood before him with her hair loose, wearing a beautiful navy blue gown with sleeves that reached to the ground, her shoulders bare, on her hips a delicate golden belt made up of tiny eyes in which sapphires were framed.
"That's enough." He said agitated and impatient, raising his hand in a gesture of frustration, his dark hair and beard adding to his seriousness, his brow furrowed in anger. "Until you learn prudence, one of my ghosts will not leave your side."
She looked at him, horrified, and then turned her gaze to the man standing beside him, a few steps behind his throne, his figure hidden completely in shadow. He was dressed all in black, a hood over his head and a black mask on which a single tear was outlined under his right eye.
It was said that it was molded so that the people they were killing would have the feeling that they had compassion for them, that they were just a tool used by someone else.
People called them ghosts because they weren't seen on a daily basis - or at least that's what it was believed. They were forbidden to take off their mask or speak to anyone but her father, and were his principal emissaries that found his enemies, invigilated them and killed them.
Since the days of the rebellion and the overthrow of the earlier king, her father was perpetually in fear of an attempt on his or his children's lives, so he found, she supposed, people desperate or fond of killing, those who owed him everything and had no reason to betray them.
She passed and saw them extremely rarely, only during sumptuous feasts in the company of guests or gatherings of magnates from all over the country.
They stood then by her father's side, as always in the shadows, though invisible, constantly reminding her of their presence with their very posture, menacing and stony, the people around them afraid to look at them.
She didn't know how many of them there were in total, they were almost identical and differed only in height, besides that they wore the same clothes, masks, hoods and black leather gloves, probably to avoid staining their skin with blood.
The thought that someone like that was to accompany and guard her sent shivers down her spine, she had feared that her father would now know of her every move, that she would never leave the fortress again.
She lowered her gaze, saying no more, listening to his orders to find the man who had attacked her, whom she had described in detail to the other ghosts.
She left, feeling that if she stayed there another moment she would vomit.
It seemed to her that these black hooded figures were sucking the life out of everyone around them, that they were a walking harbinger of death and misery.
That night she heard his voice for the first time.
Her guards were outraged when he dismissed them.
"You are not a king, by what right do you command us?" Asked one of them, a cold, deep, mocking voice answered them.
"Shall I inform the king that not only are you incapable of guarding his daughter, but you refuse to obey his orders?"
She heard someone's growl and an unclear voice full of impatience, the clack of steel and armour proving that they had walked away and she was left alone with the cold murderer outside her door.
She pressed her lips together, felt her eyes burning due to the gathering tears at the realization that she had never felt more alone and abandoned than she did now.
She wriggled in bed, as she did every day, unable to fall asleep. It was raining loudly outside and she looked towards her window, seeing nothing but darkness. She felt small and even though she was lying under several thick furs, she was cold.
She rose slowly, putting a soft cashmere shawl over her shoulders, lighting a candle that illuminated her chamber with a pleasant, warm glow.
There is a man behind that mask, she thought.
He was not a ghost.
If she made any kind of bond with him, she would stop being afraid of him.
She walked to her door and stood in front of it for a long moment, feeling her heart pounding hard and fast. She swallowed hard and opened it with a loud creak of old wood.
Her candle instantly illuminated his figure, he was standing exactly opposite her door, leaning against the wall with his hands clasped in front of him. She wondered if he was asleep in that position, but after a moment she noticed something behind the translucent black material in the area cut out for his eyes, a blue iris staring at her.
She looked at him for a moment, wondering if he would move, but he stood like a statue, it seemed to her as if he were made of stone.
Was he supposed to stand like that all the time?
Her father had told her that he would gift her his one ghost.
Would they be exchanging? After all, he had to sleep at some point.
"What's your name?" She asked uncertainly, softly, wanting to sound as open and honest as possible.
Silence.
A long one.
"How am I supposed to address you if I don't know what your name is?" She asked again, looking at him pleadingly, asking him to let her at least get a little closer to him, to be able to give him humanity.
Silence.
She pressed her lips together and thought something else would make him speak.
"Should I complain to the king about you not answering my questions?" She asked lowly, wrinkling her eyebrows, wondering where she had got the courage to speak to this man in this way. A shudder went through her when she heard him let out a breath, as if he had given up, resigned.
"Call me any name you see fit." He said in a low, deep, indifferent tone, as if the fact that he had to talk to her frustrated him incredibly and he didn't understand what she wanted from him.
She felt a tightening in her throat at the thought that there was no more human thing than being given a name, it was the first thing given to a child at birth, and he renounced it.
"Shall I name you?" She asked shaking her head, not understanding what he was implying, and he turned his face to the side, despite the mask she could feel the growing impatience beating from him.
"Yes. My Princess." He added after a moment, his words razor-sharp, cool, angry, mocking. She had the impression that he treated her interest as something completely unnecessary, apparently it suited him to remain in the shadows and he had no intention of coming out of it.
She looked at him with pain mixed with disappointment and thought he reminded her of one of the horrific mythological beasts her mother had once read to her about before bed, a great mighty dragon that sowed death and destruction.
"Vhagar."
She heard the word she had spoken echoed, followed only by the sound of rain, and felt that there was something final in what she had done.
"I will always treat you with respect and I will never make you do anything to humiliate you or offend your good name." She choked out with difficulty, wanting him to understand that they were condemned to each other and that this in itself was a misfortune, however, it would be even more so if they both pretended that he didn't exist, that he was just her shadow that followed her everywhere.
He did not respond.
She closed herself back into her chamber only walking towards her bed feeling that her legs were trembling. She lay down on her bed covering herself with thick furs, frozen and terrified, closing her eyes, praying to the gods to show her mercy.
That they would not lock her away in this cold, stone fortress forever until her father claimed to have found a suitable candidate for her to marry.
As she did every day, she also prayed for someone else.
Someone who had lived in this chamber before her.
The next day she got up awake, a terrible headache accompanying her from the moment she opened her eyes. She sat down at the table, covering herself with her shawl; overnight the wood in her fireplace had burned out.
She lifted her gaze as she heard the door to her chamber open, her servants entering with golden trays on which they served her breakfast.
She saw Vhagar follow them inside, his hands entwined behind his back, it seemed to her that his footsteps made no sound, that he could sneak up on someone silently.
"You're supposed to taste everything first." He said to one of them dryly and emotionlessly, the girl looked at him apprehensively, clearly already knowing stories of men of his ilk and what they did.
"My Lord?" She choked out, clearly not understanding what he was asking her.
"Anything the princess wants to eat or drink − you are to taste it first. This is how it will be from now on with everything you bring her. Do you understand?" He asked coolly and insistently, and she nodded, lowering her gaze, pale.
"Is this necessary, Vhagar?" She asked looking at him with a furrowed brow, he turned his face towards her but answered nothing. He looked back at her servant after a moment.
"Begin."
"I've lost my appetite. Take this away. You can eat it all, let it not go to waste." She said raising her hand, allowing them to leave turning her head to the side, looking blankly at her wardrobe standing on the other side of the chamber.
She saw out of the corner of her eye that he hadn't moved from his spot, that he was looking at her, his aura giving her shivers, she knew he was about to say something.
"My Princess…" He started and she turned her face towards him. "…are you going to eat your breakfast, or do I have to shove it down your throat?"
She looked at him with huge eyes, feeling her heart pounding fast, shivers went through her, she thought with horror that he was mad.
"That is all, Vhagar. You may leave." She said in an unobjectionable voice, clasping her hands in her lap, trying to hide how much they were trembling.
He stared at her, his black tear-streaked mask seeming even more frightening and mocking to her, cold and lifeless.
"Mmm." He hummed, though it sounded more like a purr, bowed barely visibly and left her chamber.
She let out a loud breath, burying her face in her hands, feeling a desperate burbling in her stomach from hunger, thinking that she would not give him the satisfaction of letting him dominate her life, ordering her servants around, locking her in a cage.
She asked her servants to help her dress, she put on this time a light-coloured gown with a fine gold belt around her hips made up of tiny chains, some of her hair pinned back in a bun, some falling down her bare back, her sleeves reaching all the way to the ground.
She walked out of her chamber without looking at him, without telling him where she was going, hearing that he immediately moved to follow her.
Her shadow.
She saw the ladies of the court looking at her, terrified of who was accompanying her, as if she were being followed by death itself, people turned their faces away and froze in silence, not knowing what to do, how to react to this unwanted sight.
She headed for the main castle library hearing him enter behind her, but stopped at the door when it slammed behind them, standing in front of it with his hands folded behind his back.
She was starving and decided to distract her mind with some reading. She picked up a few books on the history of her kingdom, sitting down at one of the large oak tables right by the window to get more light. She opened one of the books in front of her, looking for the chapter that interested her.
"You may sit down, Vhagar." She said dispassionately, not wanting him to think she expected him to stand there like some stone pillar, but he didn't move from his place.
An hour passed before he spoke to her, snapping her out of her reverie.
"You need to eat." He communicated a little more softly than before, she felt him looking at her, but she did not lift her gaze to him, uninterested.
"My servants will not taste my food. You yourself watch the cooks and what they put on my platters." She replied with reserve, answered by a long silence.
"Very well."
She looked up at him, sighing quietly, his face turned towards her, she knew what was the reason for his impatience, what he was afraid of.
What would the king think if it turned out that under his watch she had begun to refuse food and starve herself? How would that reflect on him as her protector?
She rose from her seat, putting her books slowly back on the shelf, returning to her chamber without changing another word with him.
As she sat down to supper with her father, her younger brother, and his closest associates, the king immediately asked her what she thought of her new sworn protector, who stood behind her chair right next to the wall, as usual, hidden completely in the shadows.
She swallowed loudly a piece of the roast she had just had in her mouth, noticing with a kind of discomfort that her father spoke of him as if he had given her a thing, not a man.
"Thank you, Father, I do indeed feel safer in his presence." She lied, clutching the wine cup in her hand and taking a loud sip from it, wanting to end the subject quickly.
The king nodded, looking impatiently to his confidant secretary, a companion to all the major battles won during the rebellion.
"Has Prince Aemond's body been found at last? It's been eight years, for goodness sake." He said sternly, impatient; as far as she understood, only his body of the entire Targaryen family had not been found after the great massacre that had taken place in the fortress where they were now feasting.
Lord Ronan grunted loudly, shifting in his seat, blinking rapidly as if thinking of what to answer.
"We are getting closer, my lord. We're searching the city's underground, likely to find his corpse soon. The cut of the sword fell right on his face, he couldn't have survived that." He said with a certainty that was filled with the need to sound as convincing as possible, which did not escape her or her father attention.
She lowered her gaze, setting down her cup with a loud clang of metal on the wooden tabletop, looking down at her plate, losing her appetite completely.
The entire royal family slaughtered in their beds after her father at the head of the army stormed into the fortress, elected by the people to rule after the inept reign of King Viserys.
"With apologies, I will retire to my chamber. My king. My prince. My lords." She said bowing in turn and moved ahead, not waiting for her father's permission, she heard rustling behind her, she knew her ghost had not left her side.
They walked in silence through the dark corridors of the fortress illuminated only by the warm light of torches, she knew the way to her chamber by heart. Her mind, however, was elsewhere, wondering what would happen if Prince Aemond lived.
If he came in with his army and slit their throats as her father had done to his family.
She stood in front of the door to her chamber, glancing up at his tall black figure towering over her like a cold shadow.
"Thank you for your devotion, Vhagar. Rest now." She said turning her head and opened the door, but stood in half step, surprised to hear his voice behind her.
"How does it feel to sleep where she slept?" He asked with a kind of excitement, as if the thought of it gave him satisfaction.
She felt her heart start pounding like mad, a cold sweat on her back at the thought of Princess Helaena bleeding to death in the bed she was now sleeping in.
She looked up at him, in the light of the torch she could see through the black fabric his blue irises, his pupil looking at her in such a way that she had the impression that he was a predator who was looking at his prey, whose entrails he was about to tear apart.
She was silent for a long moment.
"Horrible." She said dispassionately lowering her gaze.
"I imagine her lying in my place and all I can think about is that the same thing will happen to me one day." She muttered, feeling his heavy gaze on her, there was some kind of tension between them, though she didn't know why. "I pray every day for her forgiveness."
"Ghosts do not forgive." He said coldly, as if stating some foreboding, indisputable fact, a shudder went through her and she looked at him with a pained expression, furrowing her brow.
"What else can I do?" She asked in a trembling voice, but got no answer, his black mask with a tear running down his cheek looked at her indifferently.
"Sleep well, my princess."
_____
Aemond Taglist:
(bold means I couldn't tag you)
@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes
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visionsofmagic · 5 months
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day 27: bi han [humiliation]
࿓ synopsis • your grandmaster gives you a lesson for the disrespect you have showed in front of others.
―❦ nsfw, ownership, pet names, rougness, possessiveness, fingering, cum eating, weight, power play (kinda), rudeness, sub!reader (much of it), f!reader, no use of y/n, ordering, oversitumulation, sensivity, fluff (at the end), ‘is all I guess?• 1.3k • while writing this I thought about how it would be if he’s the one who is dominated by the reader, so, we can see it in the future! *this bitch needs to be put down, soo* anyway, enjoy this one too because he’s so bi han! [kinktober m.]
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“fuuuck! master!”
“that’s it slut, moan it louder, tell me who owns you as if your pussy isn’t telling it enough.”
he growls into your ear as he keeps pounding into you so mercilessly that you swear you will not be able to walk straight the following day for quite some time.
it doesn’t matter though, not when your grandmaster takes care of you with full of his attention even though it means educating you for something you didn’t mean to do in front of others – it just slipped out of your mouth without any control of your brain, instantly regretting it, but it was too late – even now, it’s not enough how he devours you, standing above you, chest touching your exposed breasts – the nipples harden whenever they meet with his cold chest, cock is buried deep inside you – leaving no room – all full.
“m-master!” you say, trying to hold still, be the good girl he wants to have after such disrespectful behavior of calling him by his name, bi han, the title was long forgotten at that moment. he didn’t say anything, face stayed behind the mask, yet, the way his gazes shifted from other assassins to you fast was proof of how fucked up you were – and his thrusts only proved your assumptions to be true. “please – I need – I – aggh!”
“you need?” he chuckles - mocks, hands holding your wrists, pushing them onto the bed beneath you that seems to be made of iron because it can’t be explained how it stands still after such strength coming from bi han – his weight only gives you another wave of pain mixed with the bliss of pleasure. 
“what made you think that you can demand anything from me whore? oh right,” he answers his own question by kneeling lower, nose touching your cheek, tears dripping onto the sheets – no fear is bloomed inside your chest, no, yet it is a bit thrilling seeing him like this – even eyes turning ice blue because of how mad he is. “your fucking brain is useless now, isn’t it? too occupied with my cock that you have become my cockslut.” 
another thrust, another swear – coming from him even though he tries to hide how good you’re making him feel with your pussy clenching around his length, soaking into it, legs wrapped around his back too, and another moan, coming from you – such sin that it makes you want to hide your pathetic self from his view – but you know he will never let that to happen; you being such a mess only because of him feed the power he has on you.
you are being weak like this is the most beautiful sight to him.
maybe it is the reason why he wants to gather more of the expressions you’re making by holding you from the waist, then, turning you over so that he can fuck you from behind as he compresses your body between his and the bed, the weight gets heavier, it becomes too much to handle – too hard to keep your sanity.
“yeah, cute whore,” he says, shoving his cock deep and hard – yet so slow as his chest covers your back, radiating coldness from his skin to your warm one. difference makes your mind go crazy – eyes looking at his smirking face from the corner, losing it all when his other free hand touches your abdomen, right at where his cock’s outline is appearing. “feel it? feel how my cock is filling you up fully? that’s what you’re made for – to have my cock whenever I want, being a fucking slut for it – for me – your grandmaster.”
he sounds as if he waits for a response from you, however, you know he doesn’t need one – not when you cum undone a few seconds later after his words of putting you so down – so low contrary to him – showing his power, and the weakness you have when it comes to him.
“yes, yes, yes! Master – ohhh – mmhh – yes, I, I – fuuck! aggh!” you say incoherently, your mind is dizzy, tongue rolls on its own, and eyes go white as the highness of climax hits you like he hits all right place – he wants to punish you yet why he keeps pounding all the right stops, giving you a pleasure you have never felt before. the answer is somewhere on your mind, the deepest place of it, waiting for it to be discovered – getting into the surface, but, it turns into darkness when he fucks you through your high, climax – your sensitive cunt squirts.
“say it,” he orders, you can sense it from his voice, “say who’s your owner, slut.”
“you!” you say without hesitation – no shame, a little maybe, full of pride. it would have felt so wrong – it should’ve – but with him, it sounds the right thing to be. “my grandmaster!”
“say my name,” he orders again, a bit calmer down, weight is there still – thrusting roughly into your abused pussy, using the wetness of it to go in and out easier. “moan it.”
and you do it right away, feels like if you don’t moan his name, the life will be meaningless. “bi han! ohhh – bi han!” 
crying between your moans, you feel his cum washing your walls after hearing you cry under him, moaning his name, raising your ass up while doing it to make it as effective as possible for him – such a naughty girl for him he likes to break.
your cries stop when bi han’s weight disappears in a sudden movement, 
confused, you try to look at him after getting yourself together – only to see him standing on his knees, left hand holding you from the waist to make your ass stay up as the free one getting closer to your core. 
“m-master?” you as in a low voice, like a whisper even, understanding what he is about to do and feeling something you can’t put a name on. 
his eyes look at yours for a moment, radiating both coldness and warmness, making them flow into your body and finally finding your soul from there. 
to see it better, you wink rapidly, getting rid of the last drip of your tears, and waiting for him to do what he wants.
he slowly goes out of your pussy – with each inch, his fingers find it immediately after, and when his cock finally leaves your cunt – you already begin to miss it, his fingers fill up the emptiness by pushing his semen into you in delight, smirking down at the mess he’s making out of your cunt and you only stay on your elbows, ass up, pussy is being wide open so that you can have all the semen he gives to you.
“made for me, just me, mine –“ he says again, reminding, looking at you again as he continues, fingers never leaving, playing with your folds, entering it in and out. “all mine,” he listens to lewd voices coming from your pussy, whimpers and swears that leave your mouth beautifully. 
“b-bi han – ooh –“
“pretty slut,” he says again, “my pretty slut though,” then his fingers covered with both your and his cum stays in front of your half-closed eyes, “open your fucking mouth.”
he watches how your mouth opens wide, taking his fingers, and licking them. his other hand stays on your hair now, caressing it, smiling proudly, “be a good girl and obey your grandmaster – know your place.” he says before leaving you free.
the moment your body collapses into the bed, a fear hits you – fear of being left behind, but, he proves it wrong when he picks you up after a while, taking you into the bath that he has prepared.
you look at his face in disbelief – hands on his chest, back and legs wrapped by his arms. “master –“
he rolls his eyes, “just stay quiet. I don’t want to hear any of your babbling about it.” you don’t say a single word after that – just smiling widely, and finding peace and affection under his arms as he takes care of you. you’re his favorite after all.
❦ tagging: @lilvampirina ^^ @snowprincesa1 ^^ @dookiemeshibear ^^ @manuusrw
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yourdoorisunlocked · 1 month
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I'll Never Meet Another You... - Part 2
📺〘 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰𝑰 〙📺
𝐀/𝐍: Back after popular demand... *drumroll* OUR FAVORITE TV MAN!! 🥰 I just love writing Possessive!Vox, idk what it is about him, he's just so sCrUmPtIoUs-
I lowkey feel like I'm betraying my country of Alastor Nation by simping for this man, but CAN YOU BLAME ME??
. . .
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟑,𝟎𝟕𝟗 ⚠︎ 𝐓𝐖/𝐂𝐖 ⚠︎: 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫, 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐕𝐨𝐱 𝐡𝐢𝐣𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬, 𝐞𝐭𝐜. 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ
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"𝑾𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏, 𝑫𝒐𝒍𝒍~…"
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. . .
The skies of hell that normally shone a bright cherry red had faded into a deep alluring maroon, mock sparkles twinkling down upon the Pride Ring in a beautiful imitation of Earth’s stars when you finally returned home from work. 
You slammed your front door behind you, as all of the day’s pent-up frustration from being overworked and criminally underpaid finally weighed down on you, and a few dishes trembled in fear of your wrath as a soft glow of darkness outlined your figure. 
The peace of the apartment had been entirely interrupted to make room for your sulking at your shitty living situation, though you knew you should’ve been grateful to have your job, however stressful.
For you, it definitely beat out prostitution or becoming an assassin-for-hire, so, who were you to complain about your mentally taxing job as a waitress? You might’ve been catcalled a handful of times, and maybe it even bordered on harassment here and there, but you weren’t forced to outright fuck them.  
And thankfully, after some time, you had realized that for some reason, they never seemed to return to the restaurant, seeming to go missing completely from existence. Even an uncomfortable coworker of yours that you despised being around had been “let go” after a mere day of working at the diner. Maybe they all got the hint? That’s what you’d like to hope. 
Though, even if you were safe from such advances, you definitely weren’t spared from the abuse of being burnt out of all your social battery in order to serve people. 
The fact that it was Valentine’s Day in a few days didn’t make it any better. 
For the entire first week of February, you were forced to sacrifice your sanity to serve people with a dazzling smile and cake a ridiculous amount of concealer on your face to hide your heavy eyebags.
Not to mention the slight jealousy that had boiled over inside of you, fueled by exhaustion and loneliness from cold nights alone and grueling days working at the restaurant, whenever you had to serve those lovey-dovey couples that were all over each other.
You despised them, with their tender Eskimo kisses, and stupid, mushy pet names for each other, and- Oh, great, they’re fucking under the table, now!
You’d had to kick out more than one group for that handful of incidents
Just once, you’d like for someone to sweep you off your tired feet and bring you to a nice little outing, while shoving your infatuation with each other in everyone’s single-pringle fucking faces. 
Oh, well. It wasn’t like finding love in a wretched place like Hell was probable. But you had your delusional fantasies, and more importantly, your playlists. 
A familiar bloom of warmth in your chest had your heart ache with relief as you stumbled over to your bedroom. You promptly flopped onto your thin, squeaky mattress and stretched out your arms and legs, popping each stiff joint that had formed that day. 
Rolling onto your back, you let your loose hair that had been strained into a bun all day fall onto the bed as you opened Sinstagram, bobbing your head to a song that had been stuck inside your playlist for a while.
It felt like an actual crime to start indulging in your daily stalking admiring of your latest obsession, the television Overlord himself, the founder of the biggest tech company in the Pride Ring, you guessed it, Vox. 
Yes, you knew that it was creepy, but this was Hell. Who was anyone to judge you for fangirling – just a little bit – over him? Especially with that face card. You’d had very unsavory relationships in the past, but you’d throw your entire Sacred Rulebook of Relationship Standards out of the proverbial window for Vox. 
Besides, anyone would be fucking blind not to fawn over him. Seven feet tall, hotter than hell itself, and more powerful and influential than you could possibly conceive? He was every Wattpad reader’s wet dream. The blueprint, if you were being honest.
As you start scrolling through his Sinstagram – well, the company’s, really – a soft smile spreads across your face, your yearning gaze completely taken with him. 
The levels of down bad you had to be, to fall in love with a flat screen... 
Unbeknownst to you, a soft whirring that could’ve easily been mistaken for an air conditioner had gotten louder and louder, closer and closer to the familiar stained glass of your bedroom window, tarnished with smoke and pollution. But it was clear enough for someone to look in and see what heinous acts you were doing on that phone of yours, never mind your search history. 
Even Val would turn his nose up at some of that shit...
You didn’t even notice the small flash of the lens from its installed camera, or how it hovered just ever so close enough to the window beside you that it could get a proper view of what you were looking at, the contents of your phone on display for its Master to see. 
And said Master was currently relaxing into his chair with a self-satisfied simper, his earlier stress from the typical daily jetlag melting away in your presence. The tension in Vox's shoulders loosened as his fingers danced over the keyboard briefly, and a monitor to the right lit up with a close-up of your face.
We meet again, Doll~...
The electronic Overlord had been awaiting this moment for what seemed like an eternity, as he mundanely danced his way through daily routine simply to keep you under his watchful eye, come the evening. 
Throughout the day, Vox’s phone had been blowing up, par for the course of the ‘season of love’, as they called it. Of course, dealing with his job daily would’ve been an absolute thrill; cultivating his power and influence to spread across the Pride Ring by the second, watch Sinners fall over themselves to purchase the latest of VoxTech, y’know, the usual everyday experience.
But you were his change in daily routine, an escape from the facade of a showman that he had to keep up for the public, and you were right within Vox's reach.
And he could only restrain himself from up and snatching you away for so long. 
Though, recently, the idea of kidnapping you had left a rather sour taste on Vox's tongue. He would've rather lured you in with his persona, and captivate you with all that he could offer, the security, the wealth, whatever you'd desire, Vox would provide.
So, when Vox found out about your "little" infatuation with him, what with the sinful fanart hoarding and the fact that you anonymously followed every account that he or his company managed, it was a game changer.
And the television demon was, above all, a courteous, charismatic demon, despite his... outbursts. And although he didn't have much relationship experience, he'd rather like to learn.
And he was sure that you'd be more than willing to teach him.
Vox’s focus from his fantasies were broken by the sight of your expression souring when a notification pinged on your phone. 
It was your new co-worker, who had texted you the details of the new opening times since the restaurant had been getting much more foot traffic. 
And it apparently planned to remain that way until the end of the month. 
"6 A.M.? Are you fucking kidding me?... Alright, might as well get to bed earlier, now," you stood up and begrudgingly over to your bathroom, grumbling a string of curses as your bad mood was freshly revived.
Vox watched as you retreated from your bedroom, throwing articles of clothing from the bathroom onto your bed.
Water began pattering against the marble walls, and steam had gradually seeped into the room.
“I’m just an average man, with an average life...” 
“I work from nine to five, hey, hell, I pay the price.” 
Oh, you little tease...
With a soft scoff at the irony, Vox started humming along to the little tune you’d started singing as he tapped his fingers against the desk, impatient to be graced with your presence on the live feed of the VoxTech Voyeurscope. 
“All I want is to be left alone, in my average home.” 
“But why do I always feel, like I’m in the Twilight Zone?” 
Vox sat back in his chair and kicked his legs upon the surface of his desk, his mind racing with answers to your predicament.
“I always feel like, somebody’s watchin’ me~!"
He was accustomed to returning to his room, only to bear witness to your mad self-ranting about what a dick your boss was, how your shitty pay was barely supporting you, and the many idiots you had to deal with, ones Vox would personally take care of, of course. 
“And I have no privacy, ooh-oh-oh,"
"I always feel like, somebody's watching me!"
But as entertaining as it was, Vox hated seeing you slump into your abode, the eyebags more prominent than ever on your face.
You looked so... tired, so spent. He'd never use you like that, not if he was your boss...
“Tell me is it just a dream?” 
Wait...
A pixelated lightbulb flashed against the left side of Vox's interface as he leaned forward against his monitor, frantically searching for whoever he needed to terminate fire so that you could take their place. 
And, like a hellish prayer answered, the spot for a personal assistant was gloriously empty.
Heh, there really is a God...
A wave of Vox’s hand ordered the computer to direct him to his personal digital office, showing him forms, emails, and requests waiting for him to green light, all minor cases compared to what he was searching for. 
It didn’t take long for Vox to find the form he was looking for, and it seemed that Lucifer had smiled upon him that day, as right when he retrieved the assistant application form, you exited the shower, the patter of water coming to an abrupt stop. 
You walked out in nothing but a towel and a sheen of water droplets glistening against your skin. Ever the gentleman, Vox turned away with a small blue-hued blush when you dropped the towel and began to dress yourself, only turning back when he spotted you picking up the towel out of his peripheral. 
With a small, triumphant smirk and a short mental request, the Voyeurscope returned promptly to Vox. He handed it the form, manifesting it into a physical piece of paper to insert into its awaiting craned claws. 
Vox could get you out of that horrible place, no doubt about it. But he had to make sure that you did your part as well. 
"Bring this to her apartment. Be discreet about it."
He handed the drone the empty form, and instantly it zoomed across the Entertainment District to your apartment, which wasn’t even that far from the Vee’s headquarters. 
It made a short trip through the ventilation system that led into your bedroom, tucking in on itself to deliver the paper to you.
Thankfully your back was turned to it and braiding your hair, as a shiny metal claw reached out from behind the metal door to the vent just above your bed. It dropped the application form upon your mattress, and Vox waited with bated breath for you to notice.
The form floated precariously down onto your bed, landing gracefully just as you turned around and jumped onto the mattress. You were half-tempted to reach for your phone and end the night with your daily simp-scrolling before bed. 
Vox’s heart lurched in his chest once you spotted the form and held up the piece of paper with a questioning expression. You didn’t remember having this anywhere in your bag when you left the restaurant. 
“What in the...?”  
Then, your eyes caught onto the logo. 
VoxTech. 
Holy shit. 
Apparently, you’d accidentally snatched someone else’s application form to work for VoxTech, an idea that completely slipped your mind for the last miserable months you’d slaved away at the diner you worked at.
It wasn’t like a spontaneous trip to the Entertainment District, of all places, was something that you could afford, let alone tolerate with the skeezes that sauntered about the streets, looking for young little things like you to prey on. 
But despite its infamous reputation, Vox definitely wasn’t the worst of the Vees, not by a fucking long shot. And that wasn’t just your obsessive, simping brain talking here. 
Sure, he was the embodiment of capitalism and corporate greed at its finest, but an office job with a few tons of workload sounded much better than what you were getting, working at a shabby restaurant and going home every night to your shithole of an apartment.
Not to mention, you’d be working under the Overlord you’d obsessed over for weeks on end. 
Hopefully you’d get the chance to be under him, too- 
Also, the goddamn paygrade! Your eyes bulged out of your head and your mouth fell slightly agape in surprise, unaware of how the television Overlord was gauging your every reaction and sipping on his coffee with an amused smirk. 
Perhaps God had finally taken pity upon your mortal soul and decided that you deserved to catch a break, and for that, you were eternally grateful. You’d be skipping halfway to church, by now, if Hell had one. Maybe even click your heels a couple times on the way, too. 
In a flash, you rushed over to your nuclear fallout zone of a desk, sweeping the mess of papers and ‘RENT DUE’ bills off its surface. You quickly took a pen and scribbled down the required information for the application form at lightning speed. Smoke was practically rising off the paper by the time you were done with it.
The form was filled out in record time, and Vox watched as his plan unfolded perfectly before him. The definite click of your desk drawer closed as you placed the form inside for tomorrow, your fate sealed and unknowingly passed into Vox's greedy hands. 
“So gullible for me, aren’t you~?” His gaze softened adoringly towards you as he murmured to no one; gentle, placating words meant for your ears hitting only the damned barrier of his computer screen.
A fond, blue-hued grin lined with neon teal teeth spread across Vox’s blue-screen interface as he watched you flop onto your bed. You kicked your feet happily and gushed like a schoolgirl as you lost yourself to your daydreaming.
You knew you weren’t important enough to actually have a meeting with Vox himself, but this was fucking fanfic material, and a gorgeous opportunity that you knew was too good to brush off. 
“Ooh! I can’t wait to meet him! If I ever meet him. I wonder what Vox's like when he isn’t working... He’s definitely the Type A kinda guy, super work oriented.” A spot-on observation.
“Ugh... But I’m totally not, though. Eh, doesn’t matter, I’ll be accepted either way, it’s not like anyone else is brave enough to accept the job.” Well, she’s not wrong. 
“No, that’s a little cocky. I mean, it’s not exactly a guarantee I’ll be accepted.” Oho, you’d be surprised, my dear...
You pouted doubtfully for a moment, weighing all the variables in your head. This could go horribly wrong for you, maybe even end up with your brains splattering against an aquarium wall, if you played your cards recklessly.
But you'd had enough of this life, and you were far from sick of drowning in the suffocating depressive cycle that you'd been spiraling into for the past couple of months since you'd arrived in Hell.
Who knew your afterlife would be just as dismal and bleak as your human one.
“But it’s worth a shot!” You clenched your fists with a newfound determination, and Vox let out a relieved sigh. You really shouldn’t scare him like that, not when he was so close to having you securely within his grasp. Willingly, that is.
If pushed to it, Vox had no qualms over taking you by force.
“Even though I have no idea what he’s like in person, I’d die to meet him. Double die, that is.”  
“Ugh, but should I miss my shift for the interview? Or should I plan to go there whenever Boss gives me a break next?”  
It was practically torture, watching you go back and forth between decisions, leaving Vox feeling like he was watching the finale of ‘Yeah, I Fucked Your Girlfriend, So What?’, and it had left him on the cruelest cliffhanger he could’ve possibly manifested in the history of shitty melodramas. 
You hadn’t even decided what you were even going to wear, and you were already rethinking your afterlife’s choices. 
Oh, shit...
Your once relaxed state was all but diminished when you realized that simply showing up to the interview wasn’t going to cut it. You had to dress to impress to land this job.
After all, Vox's reputation was the peak of excellence, perfection at its finest, and the company's interviewers would probably have you executed on the spot if you dared to show up in tattered sweatpants and your favorite hoodie.
You rushed over to your dresser, throwing out any articles of clothing you deemed inappropriate for the interview.
Finally, you settled on a plain midnight blue form-fitting blouse with a black ascot, and a black pencil skirt that you had bought for your uniform at the diner. You never wore it much, of course, with all the sleazy customers you’d attract, but you thought it was cute, anyway. 
With a satisfied hum, you laid out the outfit upon your desk, and with a relieved sigh, fell right back into bed with your phone on the lowest brightness possible.
You then scrolled the endless crimson twilight away with half-lidded eyes until you slowly drifted off to sleep, leaving Vox alone to his thoughts once more.
Upon seeing your dozing form, Vox made the drone hover for just a few more moments to watch you drift off into a blissful sleep.
He promptly called it back, and once again, the poor drone worked overtime to return to its Master, and its battery was nearly completely spent as it landed in Vox's claws.
Sharp, neon-dipped fingers tampered with the device for a moment, searching for the gold mine of footage he had recorded. He tossed the video onto his monitor's screen, and the file loaded and saved instantly into his precious folder. 
A warmth crept up his chest as he laid back in his chair, a conniving grin stretching its way onto his features.
The familiar smugness of sure victory, and the honey-sweet bitterness of whatever spell you had put him under had left his heart aching. You may have been prone to your midday daydreaming, but they couldn't compare to Vox's ambitious fantasies of you and him together.
And tomorrow, you'd be all his. His personal assistant, clad in that tight little uniform that had him frothing at the mouth for you.
And speaking of which...
Vox's retinas pulled up different images of uniforms and color-coordinated outfits that perfectly matched his likeness and style.
Indeed, when Vox was done with you, you'd be a spitting image of him, every facet and aspect of you fashioned for him, and him alone.
Every demon in Hell would know exactly who you belonged to, from the marks that would line your shoulders and thighs, to the pleated blue skirt and coattails that he'd have Velvet fashion, just for you.
She'd look stunning in my colors...
. . .
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𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Alright, I promise, I SWEAR WE'RE GETTING THERE-
I needed to use this chapter to build up the plot's structure, since the first chapters tend to be little concepts of what I want the rest of the story to be about. I promise, ON MY MOTHER that next chapter we will be seeing more Vox x Reader content in chapter three, especially since the tv demon brainrot is invading and corrupting my brain cells rn 😓
As always, thanks for reading! And once again, my taglist is always below, so please comment there to be tagged!
. . .
𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @matrixbearer2024, @prosciuttosblog, @frog-fans-unite, @chewbrry, @villxinmiixx, @lulurubberduckie, @mysterypotatoink, @kintsugi-akane, @rustedtoaster
➺𝑩𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑩𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝑻𝒐 @cafekitsune - 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫!
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