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athenaluthor · 3 months

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Hesitation - Darth Vader

Summary: Husband!Vader has been on his ship for far too long. His very pregnant wife has come to fetch him.

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, Unburnt!Vader, Domestic!Vader, Husband!Vader, established relationship, fluff , porn with plot, wife!reader, PiV, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it please), creampie, mentions of children, mentions of Emperor Palps (he's his own red flag), same universe as my other fic here

Word count ~ 3.6k (unedited)

masterlist

Vader hasn't left his ship in days. Regularly occupied by the matters of the Empire, it was not uncommon for him to be absorbed in his work. More often than not, he would work late into the night until he lost track of time. Rest and sleep were put aside until he was satisfied with the work. To make matters worse, food and drinks his attendants provided were also regularly left untouched in favor of his work.

Although many would prefer it, his wife had decided to not let him rot on the Executor. After all, she prefers him alive and well. It also is not helpful that the current chatter among the Imperial ranks was that Lord Vader despised her and would rather confine himself to his ship than be with his very pregnant wife.

On some occasions, one could say that it was indeed true. Vader was nothing but dedicated to his work, or the Dark Side if we're being honest. But for the most part, Vader is practically glued to her. If he could chain her to their bed, he would.

That being said, no one dared to disturb him on his ship. Vader's temper was infamously catastrophic, mercurial. He could go from calm and collected, to being the embodiment of chaos and destruction. To make matters worse, her third pregnancy is proving far more difficult than the other two. The pain borders on unbearable and she struggles to walk even short distances.

Walking through the doors of his private office aboard the ship, she searches it for her husband. The cold wave of air sends a chill down her spine, making her shiver. She clutches her fur shawl closer to her body, trying to keep warm. The sight of Vader standing and looking over his war table, greets her. He was surely ready to chew out whomever had bothered him, clearly engulfed in his work.

Turning around, Vader's anger dissipates. Seeing his wife slowly walking towards him, taking careful steps to ensure she wouldn't slip and injure herself or god forbid, her baby has that effect on him. Naturally, Vader wastes no time in slipping off his helmet and crossing the room to her. Instinctively, he holds out his arm for her to use as support and walks her over to the sofa. Vader adjusts the few cushions on the absurdly large and plush sofa to support her back and helps her sit.

“What are you doing here?” he all but yells, kneeling down in front of her to slip off her shoes. Setting her shoes aside, Vader massages her swollen feet.

“When ones’ husband does not return home to his wife for days in favor of a ship, people talk. Not to mention, the boys miss you as well.”

“A few things are taking longer than I expected. I planned on coming home yesterday.” he replies, eyes avoiding her. He opts to focus his vision on her feet and massaging out the knots.

“I know. Your schedule isn't exactly a secret to me.”

“Things don't always go as planned.”

“Well, rebels and incompetent Imperial officers will do that.” she replies nonchalantly.

“Did you walk all the way from the landing bay to here?”

“Yes. It's not a very short walk, you know.”

Vader's face grows darker with what she assumes is rage or frustration. She reaches out to grab his gloved hand and toy with his fingers.

“I know. The walk is not suitable for a woman who's heavily pregnant!” he replies sternly, clearly unhappy with her choice.

Standing up, he walks over to the side table and buzzes for an attendant. Seconds later, one rushes in, face riddled with anxiety and fear.

“Yes, Lord Vader?” her voice quivers slightly. Clearly frightened in anticipation of Vader's wrath.

He orders her to bring in a selection of drinks and food, barely acknowledging her presence.

The attendant looks somewhat relieved at his request, probably grateful he wasn't directing his wrath at her. Her eyes flicker over to Vader's wife briefly before she quickly steps out of the room.

Quietly, Vader rearranges the cushions in the couch again and gestures for his wife to lay down. Tired and uncomfortable, she happily obliges. Vader helps her lay down, adjusting things here and there to ensure her comfort.

He fusses like a mother hen, she muses to herself.

Sitting down beside her, his hand gently caresses her large bump, a comfortable silence washing over them.

Soon, he thought. Soon, they would be free from the Emperor's clutches. His sons wouldn't be forced to serve the Emperor as he had, his wife wouldn't have to keep birthing him children if she didn't want to. He would give her anything, she gave him a second chance of life when he squandered it.

The baby wastes no time and gives a rather hard kick to Vader's hand, earning a groan from his mother.

“Your son is not letting me sleep. He can't stop moving or kicking or tensing! Everything just hurts.” she angrily says.

Vader reaches out into the force, searching for his unborn son's signature. The boy was warm and his signature was pure, untainted. Vader soothes and calms him down, sensing how tense his wife truly was.

“Have you seen the doctors? Make sure there's nothing wrong with you or the baby.” he asks, concern lacing his voice.

“I have. The baby is just, I don't know, active? The doctors say he's active. Our boys weren't exactly easy pregnancies but I wasn't this uncomfortable with them.”

The squeaky wheels of a cart interrupts them, they both turn their heads to the attendant walking in. Pushing a metal cart that was filled with a few drinks and an assortment of snacks, the attendant asks if they would need anything else.

Vader dismisses the attendant and turns his attention back to his wife.

“Uncomfortable or painful? You need to be honest. I have seen you pregnant, I know you're in pain.” Vader says accusingly.

She doesn't reply. Instead, she opts to run her hands along his suit. Eventually inching up to his face where she runs her fingers across his jaw,his cheek and even his nose.

Vader leans into her, reveling in the contrast of her soft touch against his skin. The way she looked at him so reverently, as if he hung up the stars for her.

In all truth, he would. He wouldn’t even hesitate or question her. He would do anything she asked him to. He didn't deserve this kind of love. He didn't deserve this gentleness and patience. Not after what he's done. Yet, he lets her. He knows he shouldn't let her, but he does every time. She wants to give him all her love and care, yet he feels so desperately undeserving of it. He has tainted her, no matter how hard he tries to, he can't stop himself.

He can't stop himself when she begs him to take her to bed and make love to her or fuck her mindless. He can't stop himself when she's begging him to fill her womb with his seed and give her another baby. Not when she's brought his sons into the world. She has carried and birthed two of his children. Now, she's carrying his third and Vader can feel that she's weaker this time. He won't admit it, he can't admit it.

The dark side in him feeds off this worry, telling him that he will lose her. Telling him that he will lose her to childbirth and the child he put in her will bring her to her death. He condemned her to death the same way he did Padme.

“Stop.” her voice breaks him out of his trance.

She continues “You're spiraling out. You're here yet you're miles away and we can't have that.”

She looks over at the cart and turns to him. With a soft smile on her face she makes him an offer he can't resist.

“How about you eat with me,hmm? I don't have any appetite when I'm alone. Eating with you always helps.”

So, they eat together in silence. The spread of food had enough variety for her not to feel sick. Vader has no protests, as long as she eats. The baby is well-nourished and so is she. She wastes no time in eating her food, having a taste of everything. Vader remembers she is always hungry at this stage of pregnancy, for food and for him. He didn't mind.

Truth be told, he couldn't care if people thought he was pulling away from her. It couldn't be further from the truth. Vader was largely focused on her, his two sons and his unborn child. Everything he did was for them. His plans of betraying Palpatine is all for them. His wife's third pregnancy had thrown a wrench in his plans of overtaking Palpatine. Trying to move her somewhere in this state, he simply couldn't risk it. He didn't want her to be caught in the crossfire while pregnant, not when she is this vulnerable.

The stress could bring harm to both her and the baby. If anything happens to either of them, the dark side would surely dig its claws deeper into him.

Palpatine would also surely take the first chance at killing his pregnant wife if he retaliated. If this happens, the dark side will consume him completely, he thinks. He can't let his boys see that.

Vader also wants to be there for the birth. He wants to make sure she would live through it. Once she's safely given birth safely he prays, he'll have her and the children hidden. Hidden somewhere safe, somewhere protected where no one will be able to find them or hurt them.

Only then will he take on Palpatine. Only then will he destroy his wretched master. He will make Palpatine suffer for all he's taken away from him. Yet, Vader still hesitates. Would this be the right course of action?

Vader was a fool not to see Palpatine’s plans. He believed that Palpatine truly allowed him to have another wife as a reward for his work. In truth, Palpatine wanted his children for his sick and twisted plots. Vader felt his blood run cold and his stomach churn when Palpatine suggested his eldest son be trained in the ways of the dark side soon.

“Will you come home tonight? Perhaps even tuck them in?” Her voice is timid, almost as if she's testing the waters. She doesn't realize it, but her voice snaps him back to reality, grounding him to the world around him.

“Alright. We'll head home soon.” Vader leans in to kiss her, his kiss is passionate yet gentle.

His hand gently weaves itself into her hair and she has no qualms about it. Vader’s kiss tastes sweet, like the fruits he's eaten off the spread and somehow she adores him even more now. The smell of his armor is both comforting and arousing, making her head spin

Vader pushes her fur scarf off her body, exposing her cleavage to him. Laying down, Vader thinks she looks like an angel, a kriffing angel.

Hair tousled and skin warmed, her breasts on display for him. The look in her eyes is one of love and lust which has Vader feeling like a teenage boy with his cock tightening in his pants.

Luckily for him, she's wearing one of her breastfeeding dresses. Vader pulls her dress away from her chest, exposing her to him.

“Vader!” she exclaims loudly, hands swatting him away. “What?” he mischievously grins at her.

“Not here. What if someone enters?”

“I'd kill them” Vader replies nonchalantly.

Vader's tongue moves to toy with one of her nipples, earning a rather erotic groan from her. He gently sucks on her nipple while his hand toys with the other.

Her hand weaves itself into his soft, blonde curls, gripping and tugging it gently as she falls into the fit of pleasure.

Vader moves his attention to her neck, kissing and sucking, leaving red marks in his wake. The smell of her perfume and body oils drives him crazy. When he pulls away, the sight of her flushed face has him breathless and his cock hard.

Vader tugs his gloves off, setting them aside on the cart of food and drinks. Then, he gets between her legs and slowly shifts her skirt up to expose her soaking wet panties. Vader pulls her panties off, tossing them somewhere in the room.

Vader slides two fingers in and out of her, earning moans that any man would beg to hear.

“You smell so sweet and you're so wet. Is all this for me,hmm?” he teases her.

Dizzy from pleasure, she struggles to answer.

“Mmhm..Oh! Who else has me like this?”

“Should I fuck you right here? On this couch, where anyone can walk in,hmm?” he asks.

“I want you. I want you to fuck me, husband” she whines to him.

Satisfied with her answer, Vader leans down and his tongue fiddles with her clit while his fingers pump in and out of her. Her cunt tastes sweet just like her and within minutes, he has her bucking her hips and arching her back, moaning while she grows closer to her climax.

When she does, her body trembles and she tries to close her legs as he continues to suck on her clit and finger her. His fingers move with a come hither motion making her squeal. Her body is always so sensitive when pregnant. Vader loved to see how many times he could make her cum all over him before she couldn't take anymore.

“Ohh, Vader! Vader!” she moans.

Vader continues until she comes undone a second time, her walls clamping down on his finger so tightly he could barely them. Her thighs shake as he sucks harder on her clit and she tries to squirm away from him.

Her thighs wrap around his head and Vader thinks that he could stay there forever. Vader pulls his fingers out of her and his mouth dives right into her pussy, lapping up all her juices.

His wife tries to push him away, clearly it was too much for her. Vader grips her thighs tightly, preventing her from moving away.

Then, he adjusts her on the couch. He helps her get on her knees and positions her so her belly is supported by the couch cushions. Her hands grip the back of the couch for support, preparing to take Vader. Taking her in a back shot position is one of his favorites.

Vader discards his codpiece in record time and unzips himself to free his hard cock. Vader lines his cock up to her and thrusts himself in, her pussy was so wet, it was barely resisting him. He groan loudly as his cock sinks into her warm and wet pussy.

Vader thrusts himself in and out of her, the sounds of their skin slapping only spurring them on. His head moves to the side of her neck, breathing in her scent as one of his hands wraps around her neck gently.

Her moans and pants are music to his ears, he knows she adores it when he's like this. He thrusts into her slow and deep, shifting the angle of his hips to hit the right spots. It takes him all of his control not to fuck the living daylights out of her.

Vader grunts out between his thrusts “You feel so good around me,wife. My wife, the mother of my children, takes my cock so well. Even when you're this pregnant, you still spoil me.”

The hand on her throat moves to clutch her belly. His other hand moves down her swollen belly and to toy with her clit, making her moan loudly.

Vader's thrusts speed up slightly as he rubs her clit, “How long will it take for you to cum this time? You look so good falling apart for me, my darling wife”.

Vader continues his thrusts and the hand on her clit doesn't stop until she comes undone. When she cums, Vader continues to move his cock in and out of her, making her moan and whimper louder. Her walls grip him so tight, it has him grunting as he tries to thrust.

“Vader, Vader, Vader! It's too much! Can't take it, hmmph!” she whimpers.

“I haven't finished yet, my pretty wife. I'm going to fill you up with my cum.” Vader whispers in her ear.

His thrusts now pick up speed as he chases his climax and his fingers on her clit expertly help her get closer to her fourth orgasm as well. Her moans and his grunts fill the room, the sound of their skin slapping against each other echo loudly.

“You're so tight! Too much,hmm? My poor wife can't handle my cock!” He grunts in her ear.

He's close. He's so close and so is he. He ruts into her wildly as he feels her fourth orgasm nearing. She orgasms again, legs shaking as she tries to hold on until he shoots his load deep inside her. She's seeing stars trying not to faint from how good this feels.

“I'm going to cum! Take it, take it” he yells as he shoots his cum inside her. The feeling of being so full of him and his cum has her so dizzy. Her entire body shakes and she's panting as Vader slowly finishes his thrusts.

Vader pulls out of her and the stimulation has her whimpering. His cum drips out of her and onto her thighs and the couch.

Then, he helps her limp body to lay down on the couch. He's careful to lay enough cushions to support her as he lays there satiated and panting. Cleaning himself up, he zips up his pants and places his codpiece back on.

Taking a few tissues, he wipes down the mess he's made between her legs. The contact has her moving away, clearly overstimulated.Then, he helps to adjust her dress and cover her breasts.

“Was that too much, hmm?” Vader asks as he brushes her hair out of her face.

She shakes her head. “It was good. Just what I needed. Though, I don't think I can walk home after this.” she says to him.

Vader leans down to give her a kiss on the cheek before handing her a glass of water with a straw from the cart.“You don't have to. I'll carry you.”

She drinks it under his watchful eye. “I'm doing alright today. The baby is active but the pain isn't too bad. Nothing more than usual. You need not worry, husband.” She says to him.

Vader doesn't answer, merely standing up to grab his helmet and putting it on. He walks over to her and grabs the glass to put it aside.

He picks her up and carries her all the way back to her little ship in the landing bay. Ignoring the eyes of the Imperial officers and stormtroopers, she lays her head on him despite his hard armor poking her head.

By the time they reach her ship, she's fast asleep. Only waking when he straps her into one of the seats. He starts the ship and flies it out the Executor's landing bay down to Coruscant.

Once home, Vader helps her pump her milk since she missed a feeding to go fetch him on his ship. Then,he helps his very sleepy wife freshen up for the night and change into something comfortable for the night. He made sure to rub some ointments on her to soothe her aches and help her sleep.

After he tucks her into bed, he unlatches his helmet and looks out into the nighttime skyline of Coruscant. Bustling with lights and music, filled with party-goers and dwellers from all parts of the galaxy. He turns to look at his wife, sound asleep in his bed looking like an angel. A kriffing angel.

Shedding his armor, Vader heads into the shower. Relieved to wash the day away and calm down, he stands under the warm water for a while. All was well for now. His wife was sound asleep in their bed, his kids were too probably.

Finishing his shower, he gets dressed and heads to his sons’ rooms. Their rooms weren't far, just across from his and his wife's. Close enough for him to get to them if anything were to happen. Nothing would, not under his watch.

He quietly slips into his eldest's room first. The five-year old boy lays sprawling on his bed, blonde curls poking about wildly. His blanket was at the edge of the bed, almost kicked off by the aggressive sleeper that was his son. His son was the most deep sleeper he's seen. An earthquake could happen and the boy would still sleep.

Vader readjusts the boy so he lays properly on his pillow and he slides the blanket back on. He checks the monitor and gives his son a kiss on the forehead before leaving to check on his youngest.

His youngest is now 14 months old. A joyful thing, really. He's always smiling and laughing, following his older brother around.

Vader peers into the boy’s crib to see him clutching his toy purrgil tightly. Vader gives him a kiss and checks the monitor as well before heading to his home office.

Sitting in his chair, he stares at the holo screens in front of him. Now or never, he thinks. He has to put his plans into place if wants to beat Palpatine soon.

He can't hesitate. He has to be sure. Hesitation will get him and his family killed.

His gaze moves to the little clay sculpture of him he has on his desk. It was one his five year old son made for him at school.

He won't hesitate.

Darth Vader does not hesitate.

#anakin skywalker x reader #darth vader x reader #vader x reader #dad!darth vader #husband!vader #unburnt!vader #anakin skywalker #darth vader #star wars #hayden christensen

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strongheartneteyam · 1 year

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Get your shit together so I can love you.

Pairing: human!jake sully x female!human!reader

CW: angsty, so angsty, established relationship, MIGHT BE TRIGGERING for some audiences, disabled person feeling insecure about their body, fluff, crying, yelling, cursing, sexual language, hurt, comfort, sexual content, mentions of sexual fluids, foreplay, mentions of fingering, jake touching reader's pussy. Please, tell me if I'm missing something 🥲

Author's note: This AU is set on 2009. Jake is just a regular 24 year old former marine who ended up losing the movement of his legs permanently after an unfortunate accident that happened while he was fighting for his country, amidst a terrible, unforgiving war. The reader is a 21 year old regular human girl. There is no sci-fi or aliens involved. I totally understand if it's not your cup of tea as it's almost not canon at all to the Avatar Universe. I guess I just kept most stuff canon to Jake as a character. As I said, it's an AU. Just call me Miss Marvel and call this a version of Jake that exists somewhere in the wide multiverse 😂 guys I'm way too sleepy and exhausted that I'm starting to sound a bit drunk... gonna shut my piehole up now. I hope you guys like it. ✨ I need to sleep ughhh ✨

Not proofread. Sorry, my babies, momma is always too tired n running low on time.

❃

I tapped on your window on your darkest night

The shape of you was jagged and weak

There was nowhere for me to stay, but I stayed anyway

You fire off missiles 'cause you hate yourself

But do you know you're demolishing me?

And then you squeeze my hand as I'm about to leave

Renegade (Big Red Machine feat Taylor Swift)

❃

You walked to your boyfriend's house, watching the starry dark sky above. It was a full moon night, its pale light bathing your skin as you thought about how you missed Jake. You had just gotten back from a family trip yesterday and hadn't had time to go over to Jake's house to see him yet. You were so anxious to see his face again that you didn't even bother to call him to let him know you were about to come over.

When you got there, as soon as you opened the door with the copy of the keys Jake had given to you, you saw a miserable looking man sitting on a wheelchair, staring at the wall, eating a burger and fries and drinking beer. You swore to God one day you'd slap his hand and tell him to eat healthier. He ate junk food and drank way too much. His face was grumpy and a little sad at the same time. But it was your Jake. It didn't matter to you that he always looked like he was done with everything, he was so freaking handsome and charming, so, you could get past his moodiness. At the end of the day, you loved him so very deeply it made you feel like there was not enough space for so much love inside your body.

"Hey, babyyy!" You say, locking the door behind you "Sorry for not calling before coming over. I'm gonna stay the night, okay? I missed you so much..." You walked towards Jake and kissed his warm cheek, leaving the keys on a piece of furniture nearby

"Hi, baby. I missed you like crazy. I'm so glad my girlfriend is back here with me." He smiled at you. That was the first time he smiled, in a truly happy way, that night. You were the light of his life, he always felt better when you were around. He had missed you like a mad man, especially at night, when he looked at pictures of you/the both of you together on his black laptop. "And I gave you the keys for a reason. No need to say sorry. It's not like I go out on Wednesday evenings anyway.. Or any night of the week" He laughed in sarcasm. "I'm always here at this time." You laughed a bit and he took another bite of his burger

"I'm gonna take a quick shower, ok? Be right back" you said loudly as you walked to the bathroom

The day you and Jake had decided to be in a serious relationship, after you let the words "I love you" slip off of your mouth, by accident (you didn't even know if he crushed back on you, let alone reciprocating your feelings), Jake was so insecure, thinking you were just playing him, that it took him one week after that happened to finally say "I love you" back. You were getting sadder and more impatient as time passed. When he finally did, it was through texting. When you saw the message in your cellphone screen, your heart raced like a wild horse in a big forest.

ত

Later that night, you and Jake were cuddling, half sitting, half laying on the couch. Jake watched a movie on the television as you tried to read a book. But your attention span was equal to zero. You felt your boyfriend's warmth beneath your body, so comforting, so inviting. You wanted him so bad. You two had been together for almost one year and no sex had ever happened. You were starting to think that maybe he didn't find you that attractive, after all. That thought was like a rusted knife digging into your heart.

You closed your book since you couldn't go past the same sentence you were reading and re-reading all over again, too many times.

You moved your body from where it was and sat on top of Jake's legs, straddling his lap, taking him by surprise. He looked at you wondering why you suddenly gave up on your book if you had been bugging him for months about how bad you wanted to read it, but, you preferred reading a physical copy, as you told him, so he bought a copy for you that he found on sale just so you could stop talking to him about the same thing over and over. But he was actually just kidding, inside his own mind. He bought it for you because he knew you were gonna get really excited, just like a little child, and thank him by showering him with kisses. He loved being kissed by his pretty girlfriend.

"The book wasn't interesting enough, babe? Weren't you dying to read it?" He chuckled and then smiled, placing his big, warm hands on your thighs, making the small, thin hairs of that part of your body stand on end

"I just can't concentrate right now. That's all..."

"Is everything alright?" He noticed the angst in your expression

"Jake... We've been together for almost one year now, and... we haven't had sex yet. Don't you... don't you feel the need to do it with me? Do you still feel attracted to me? Why do you never try to initiate anything other than kisses and caresses? You've never even tried to touch my boobs... and you told me you loved them, over texting"

"Wait, slow down a bit" Jake asked of you and you stopped to breathe a little "Of course I feel attracted to you." He put a small lock of your hair behind your ear, so he could see your beautiful face better "I want you so bad... so fucking bad, you got no idea, girl. You drive me insane, my girl. I can't resist you when you're sitting on my lap like this" He caressed your face softly, light blue eyes staring at your own

"Then don't. Don't resist me. You don't have to. You just have to let me kiss you and touch you and show you how wet you make me, without even doing anything crazy, just by touching my skin like this and letting me sit on your lap."

"Baby, I...I can't" Jake looked down, sadness clouding his beautiful face. You hated to see your boyfriend like that. Why didn't he realize he didn't need to be so insecure? You loved him, all of him. No matter how badly he always talked about his legs or the fact that he couldn't do even basic day to day activities easily, because of his disability, you didn't care. You loved him. Freaking loved him to death.

"Why not?!" You were desperate for an explanation

"I could never be all you need. I wish I could but that's wishful thinking. Don't fool yourself, (y/n)."

Your eyes got filled with tears and you felt a lump forming in your throat. It was like your chest was sore, bruised from his harsh words.

"You are all that I want! All that I need, Jake! Why can't-"

"Don't make it harder than it already is, (y/n)!" The blonde guy interrupted you, his words colder than ice, burning your skin, already so sensitive from from taking all the hurt Jake was causing you by not letting you just simply love him right, be his girlfriend... "Get off me, please." So freezing cold...

You were a crying mess already, so, you felt so weak you just obeyed him and stood up, leaving him free from your body. Jake transferred himself from the couch to his wheelchair as fast as he could. He then started wheeling himself away from where you were

"Please...Please!" You say, chasing your crazy boyfriend like an idiot, while he moves his wheelchair fast towards his small room "stop being so insecure and just lemme love you." Jake stops, his freckled pale arms turning the wheels around so he could look at you

"Why do you insist on being tied down to a cripple?! Don't you get it?! You are so, so damn beautiful, (y/n). Your smile, your hair, your body... Jesus, your fucking body... You're so hot. You deserve... a man who can give you all that a relationship can offer. I can't be that man. I will never be him. I'm sorry you don't get it, but it's time for you to move on!!!" He yelled. You've never seen Jake so angry. His face was red, his eyes were gleaming, tears starting to roll down his face. He felt like his heart was breaking in a billion little pieces. He'd rather go through war, become traumatized and then have his spine injured all over again, because, honestly, it would hurt him less than what he was doing to you right now. But he knew he had to do it. "I love my (y/n) so much, I always will. But she should be happy, free from me." He thought

"Stop running away from me, Jacob Sully!" You ordered, as soon as you catch up to Jake, getting inside his room, your breath heavier than normal "I'm warning you, I will take you in my arms, no matter if you say you're too heavy, and I will lay you on this bed, against your will, if that's what I need to do so you will stop pushing me away! And don't ever call yourself a "cripple" again! I swear to God, you're testing me tonight! I won't let you speak like that about yourself. Never again! Do you understand me?!" You almost screamed

Jake sighed heavily, in defeat. With both arms, he started to support himself on his wheelchair, moving his body to the bed.

One he was settled there, sitting down with his back against the cushioned bed frame, he spoke: "Baby, I'm sorry for yelling at you like that... it was wrong. You don't deserve that. Please, forgive me." Looking at you with those eyes he had you on your knees, every single time.

"It's okay..." You looked hurt but your forgave him. You wanted to try and forget that had ever happened.

"I love you... so much."

You gazed at him and felt a need to comfort him

You sat on his bed, beside him and held his hand. After some time, you and Jake were cuddling, you sitting on his lap. He brought his mouth to yours and kissed your lips. You missed his kisses so much that you got wet so easily, just like a virgin would.

Jake grabbed the back of your head with care and deepened the kiss, using his tongue to massage yours. The way he kissed you was leaving your lips slicked with his saliva. You moaned and he held tight on to your waist, heavy breathing, his warm breath colliding with your own, the two of you getting drunk on each other. His lips were crushing against yours and that felt so amazing.

Out of nowhere, he stopped the kiss and when you tried to kiss him again he gently pushed you away, seeming uncomfortable.

"I gotta stop, baby... I can't pleasure you more than this..." he looked defeated

"Of course you can. You have fingers and a mouth, don't you? Then put them to use, baby. Your girl is begging you to pleasure her. Don't you want to help me out a bit?" You started to kiss his neck gently but sloppy. You breathed his scent in. It was so familiar, so comforting to you. He smelled like home. Home, for you, was wherever Jake was, right by your side.

Jake was starting to slowly give in and he let out a breathy moan. You felt happiness creeping in your head, your heart beating faster.

Jake did something that in his mind, was so damn bold. He dared to touch you in a very intimate way - he was as nervous as a teenager having his first sexual experience - moving his hand from the bed sheet until it got to your entrance. Jake's breath faltered as he touched your coated folds gently, his chest tightening while he looked at your face. His light brows furrowing, his demons still trying to convince him that you could not be turned on because of him.

"Sweetheart, you're so soft... just so... so wet." He was getting shaky, aroused as hell, feeling how wet you were for him

He was finally ready to just relax and enjoy the moment, as he touched your coated pussy.

"Wait a bit, will ya?" You ask, getting off his lap, standing on your feet and then stripping down to him. Your clothes were laying on the floor, as you felt a little shy but excited to see his reaction to seeing your naked body for the first time.

"Fuck, my baby. How did I get so lucky? Your body is so fucking perfect...." He put his hand up in the air, towards your own hands and you grabbed it and let him sit you back on his lap.

Jake started to touch your breasts softly, his mouth slightly open, desire scorching his insides. Your skin burned so good beneath his fingers. Then, he placed his big fingers on your slit

"God, this fucking wet pussy..." he was having trouble breathing but he loved the way you messed with his head

"I'm all yours, baby. Please, just let go and make love to me. I need you so bad it hurts me physically." You begged him to put an end to your misery

"Is that what my babygirl really wants?" He murmured, his voice low and sexy, ringing on your ears

"Yes, my love. Please... I'm so wet, Jake... only for you, my baby." You felt his fingers touching your pussy and your body became limp

"I love your pussy, baby. So velvety, warm and juicy. Can't wait to slide my fingers inside of you over and over again until you're all sweaty and whimpering"

❃

#human jake sully #human jake sully x female reader #human!jake sully x reader #human!jake sully #jake sully x female reader #jake sully x fem!reader #jake sully fanfiction #jake sully fic #jake sully avatar #human jake sully x reader #human!jake sully smut #jake sully smut #avatar fanfic #avatar fanfiction #avatar fandom #kxamtxomaw writes

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sunflowerxthoughts · 8 days

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Eddie visits Work Uncle Wayne and reader at work, just to see you again and ends up defending your honor. So tw, sexism and violence.

Eddie is desperate. It’s been what? A few days since he last saw you and every part of his fibre is itching to see you again.

So with the excuse of visiting Wayne, he visits you two. Eddie is well aware of what your role is in the plant. While Wayne’s more hands on, you get to deal with the awful awful experience of costumer service, both in person and over the phone.

It’s draining and again, awful but you don’t dare complain when you see the state of Wayne’s hands everytime you two go to smoke. You two literally schedule them so you don’t go alone and Wayne doesn’t go with some of the dullest men to ever exist.

It’s on one of those little slices of social heaven that Eddie shows up, all smiles and a charm, saying he brought you two coffee to help with the day. You could kiss him then and there if it wasn’t for the man walking fast to you three, red in the face and extremly mad.

“You bitch!” He shouts. The second you flinch Eddie and Wayne stand in front of you with a protective stance. “It was you wasn’t it?”

“What the fuck man?” Eddie yells right back.

The man goes on and on about shit he can’t understand, but all he needs is to see Wayne’s face to know whatever the man is bitching about, isn’t true nor right. It only gets confirmed when the man screams that of you course you can’t do your job when you clearly only care about makeup.

“Right okay buddy, I’m going to stop you now.” Eddie is almost cocky, he is ready to go to war. “Do you feel better now? Got all your big boy feelings sorted?”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh no, you are not excused yet. You come here screaming absolute nonsense to my uncle and my girl here and for what? Do you feel happier after being sexist because god forbid she has some eyeliner on? You are full of shit man.” The man gets visibly angrier and you miss Eddie calling you his girl completely.

Wayne doesn’t and the smirk in his face doesn’t sit right with the angry man.

“You think this is funny man? Are you, the bitch and the satanist having fun?” He lounges towards Wayne and to all of their surprise, you stick your leg in front of them so the man falls to the floor.

Eddie and Wayne look surprised but Eddie has to fight the urge to kiss you yet again when you hum, and out of nowhere, punch the man square in the face and grab him by his collar.

“You call me a bitch? That’s fine. However if I see you so much as breathe in his- their direction I’ll fucking end you, you piece of shit.”

“Holy shit.”

The man runs after that, you are taking deep breaths because if he looks back, you are going to end him. Eddie on the other hand has heart eyes when he looks back at you.

“Please tell me you didn’t forget to clock out when we came back here.” Wayne is the first one to break the silence, ever the responsible adult because you are well aware those were grounds for firing you.

“Not today, Wayne. Not today.”

Original post!

Tag list: @josephquinnsfreckles 🦋

#this is for my costumer service girlies #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem! reader #eddie munson angst

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lizzieislife94x · 3 months

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Damn It! (e.o)

Requested <3

LizzieG!PxFem Reader

Another update for yall 😇 assssssss always requests are open my loves.

Lizzies POV:

I groan and rub my templates as my extremely attractive new assistant trip's sending the coffees flying this girl can't do anything right I only hired her because I wanna have her "I'm sorry I'm so sorry miss olsen ill get it cleaned and get some more im so sorry" she panics making me look at her god she's so fucking adorable "y/n take a seat just leave it ill get it cleaned after work hours, I need you to go book an appointment for a new client for Thursday can you do that " I say a little annoyed as smiles and nods "yes I can do that easy!" With that she jumps out of the chair and leaves my office.

Y/ns POV:

I can't help but curse myself why am I so clumsy why does she make my brain forget how to brain I sigh and dial the number lizzie gave me as a woman quickly answers

Hey my names y/n I'm calling on behalf of miss olsen she asked me to arrange an appointment for Thursday. I say waiting for a reply

Thursday is perfect this Thursday or next Thursday y/n. I hear as I start to panic fuck shit she just said Thursday is it tomorrow or next week

Umm I uh next Thursday, thank you have a great day. I quickly hang up the phone as I gron leaning against the table.

4 hours later:

"See you tomorrow miss olsen" I say as I head out to leave the building "I need you tomorrow bright and early don't be late" her tone is matter of fact making me gulp "yes miss olsen see you tomorrow"

Next Day:

Y/ns POV:

I take a deep breath before walking into the office "you got this y/n don't let her make your brain stop you can function like a normal human being" I whisper to myself before making my way up to the top of the building "morning y/n I think you should turn around and leave" Joe one of my co workers states making me panic "lizzie is on the war path she had everything ready for the meeting with the new client this morning only to find its booked for next week" I groan and cover my face "fuck I panicked when she asked what Thursday and lizzie didn't tell me it was meant to be today" I whisper as her door swings open "y/n my office now!!!" She yells slamming the door making my blood run cold tears threaten to run from my eyes as I make my way into her office "damn it! Y/n how could you fuck this up" I don't dare look at her "you didn't tell me it was for today I panicked and said next week" I whisper my voice failing me "don't give me the tears it was a simple task and you somehow fucked it up how is that possible" I sniff and look up "I'm sorry miss olsen ill do better" she laughs folding her arms "I think I should teach you a lesson right here huh?" I look at her confused wiping my eyes "please don't fire me miss olsen this is the only sorce of income I have " I pleade as she smirks sitting down "oh I'm not going to fire you be a good girl and go make sure the blinds are closed" I stand up confused as I close them "now come here I'm going to make that cute little ass red bend over the desk and show mommy your ass" her change of tone turning me on what the fuck is happening I slowly do as I'm told till I'm bent over my bosses desk her hands running down my back gently rubbing my ass making me bite my lip "you've been asking for this since you started such a clumsy girl can never do anything right huh, I think you need mommy to teach you " I let our a loud audible moan at her words making lizzie laugh "pl...please teach me mo..m..my" I beg as I feel her stand behind be pulling my ass flush against her waist the feeling of something hard pressing into me "can you feel what you do to me y/n" she whispers into my ear as I nod trying to press my ass into her harder "oh don't worry you'll get mommy's cock and load soon but first I gotta mark that ass of yours princess " I turn slightly as I bite my lip "I.. I.. I'm not on birth control" I stutter as she slaps my ass hard making me moan again "even better you'd love to be full of my seed with my baby growing in your cute little stomach" I nod slowly as she pushes my dress up over my ass "never knew you where a thong girl" she grins pulling my now drenched thong down my legs making me instantly spread my legs a groan falling from her lips as her fingers gently tease my soaking entrance "fuck" I cry out needing more her laugh ringing in my ear "I want you to count how many times I spank your ass can you do that properly? Can you count for mommy" she mocks as I nod her hand slamming onto my right ass cheek "one" I yelp suddenly another and another and another till she finally stops at 10, my ass feeling its on fire "my hand print looks good on your ass" she whispers biting my ear as she unbuttons her pants "so fucking hard thinking about making you take my dick" I turn with my back now on the desk needing to see her "fuck" I pant as she holds her hard cock in her hand "don't worry princess you'll be able to take it " she smirks as she steps closer teasing my dripping pussy "mommy please...Don.. t tease me" I beg as she finally pushes her whole length inside me making me scream "that's it sweetheart let them all hear how good mommy makes you feel" the rest of the world forgotten as I moan like never before as she runs her hand up my body my body grabbing my tits "gonna make you mine slut" she moans her thrusts somehow getting faster the feeling of her deep inside me hitting spots no one ever has has my whole body shaking "shit don't stop oh my fucking godddddddd I'm gonna cum"

I scream as I start to cum lizzies grin getting bigger as she continues to pound me not letting me recover "such a tight little pussy fuck it's like it was made for me" she leans down kissing me as pounds and pounds "fu...ck mommy" I moan against her lips for only her to hear "if you fuck up from now on I'm gonna fuck your brains out baby" I smirk as my eyes roll "that's just gonna make me do it on purpose" she moans as she slows her thrusts "so fucking naughty, I'm close sweetheart gonna fill your pussy" she moans her eyes closing as her thrusts get harder my second orgasm seconds away as I feel her hot sticky seed filling my unprotected pussy sending me over the edge making me cum harder than I ever have my body trembling as the pleasure rushes through me lizzie slamming deep inside me holding still "fuck y/n" she moans into my ear both of us recovering from the intense orgasm "now you gotta walk around with my cum leaking out of this well fucked cunt" she smirks teasing my clit making me shake "I don't even care" I giggle as she pulls out quickly fixing my panties for me "that was better than I've pictured" she smirks cupping my cheeks leaving a gentle kiss on my lips as she fixes her pants before sitting on her chair pulling me into her lap "but we do need to talk about all these mistakes sweetheart" I feel my cheeks blush and hide my face "it's because of you" lizzie looks at me shocked and confused "what do you mean" I groan as she grips my chin making me look at her "you make my brain short circuit like I know I can do the work but you somehow make my brain stop " she laughs cuddling into me "well I'm sure we can start to fix it from now on huh" I smile and nod as I cuddle into her a loud knock making me jump "go away come back in an hour" I giggle as she laughs "I want time with you they can wait" I smile and trace patterns on her neck as we cuddle in comfortable silence.

AN: hope this is OK 👍 drink water and stay hydrated babes 💗 word count 1.5k

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certifiedskywalker · 9 months

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How You See Me - Aemond Targaryen

Anonymous asked: hi i love you're writings so much, you have a way with words that makes you're stories so mesmerizing, i dont know if you are accepting requests right now but if you do will you write an angst one with aemond targaryen or daemon somerhing that has to do with betrayal or choosing the other side of war thank you.

You have always seen Aemond, seen past his title, and, for a moment, you thought he was finally seeing himself too...

He brought the rain in with him. Puddles gathered on the floor of his chambers, channeled in grooves between the packed stone brick. The little rivers rushed toward you from where he stood by the ironwood door, the peaks of his frame cast in the dark of the dim-lit space. If not for the shine of his silver hair and the ghastliness of his pallor in the torchlight, he would have been unrecognizable. Even sure that it was him, you found yourself calling out warily.

“Aemond?”

“Aemond.”

His name fit in your mouth too well. You liked the feel of it, how it felt rolling off your tongue. In a place like King’s Landing where all sensations, sights, and smells, were new, Aemond felt familiar. Perhaps it was simply the shock of seeing another child at court. Let alone seeing a child with an eyepatch.

“Prince.” At the sound of his stern whisper, you peered up at your father, a decorated Lord, in question. “Prince Aemond. Title comes first, just as we practiced.”

You nodded quickly, nervously, as if you got caught sneaking a sweet past curfew. “Yes, Prince Aemond.”

“And,” your father continued, “the Princess Helaena to the King’s left. It seems that Prince Aegon is absent from court. A strange thing for— Oh! Now, remember.”

His rushed, last-minute tutelage was cut short as the Lord and Lady in front of you moved from the sword-studded start of the Iron Throne. In their place was a spot for you and your father to greet the members of the Royal Family present. You swallowed hard at the sight before a guiding hand set on your back and pushed you forward.

The closer you got, the more you saw of King Viserys’ mangled features: his grey face sunken in the cheeks and eye sockets with sores dotting his every stretch of skin. Though, it looked as though his maesters went to some effort to obscure the bloody splotches with salves made to match what you assumed was the pale color of his flesh before sickness claimed it. When the King opened his mouth to greet you and your father, you saw that his teeth were grey too, at least where they weren’t missing.

“By the Gods! How good it is to see you! The last time, I do believe, you were still Daemon’s squire, yes? And— Why, is this your little one?”

“‘Tis indeed, your Majesty.”

King Viserys beamed and you stayed as still as stone, unwilling to show fear despite the state of his smile. “Well,” he continued, “I do hope our children will grow close, strengthening the bond between our great Houses. Hmm?”

“Yes, yes, your Majesty, as do I.” Your father nudged you and your mouth immediately went dry. It took everything you had to wrench your gaze from King Viserys and look to the left. Helaena seemed unresponsive, light eyes dancing about the room, looking everywhere save for you.

“It’s customary to bow.”

Your eyes shot to the right, to Aemond. Prince Aemond. He was scowling at you, his face turned up in seeming disgust; but unlike the visage of his father, Aemond’s face, the jagged scar, still red with relative freshness, did not frighten you in the slightest. Your father, on the other hand, made a mortified rasping sound.

“Already a stickler for pageantry, my Aemond,” Viserys flattered.

“Prince Aemond,” you corrected. “Title comes first.”

The King laughed, though, with his throat full of phlegm, it came out more of a cough. “Why, what a match you two are already.”

At his father’s words, you watched on, pleased, as Prince Aemond’s scowl faded, albeit slowly, away.

“Aemond?”

You called out to him again, stepping towards his shadowy figure. Closer now, you saw his eye gleaming in the limited light, how it was fixed on the floor, the racing drips in the tile. He did not raise his head as you grew close enough to touch. The untraceable distance between you was suddenly insurmountable and it made your stomach twist.

“What is it? What happened?”

Even after eight years of it, you never bored of the dance: sneaking through the Red Keep, tracing alleys down to the training yard. Your spot was always saved by the squires, who, faces ruddy with work, were too worn and watchful to make note of your presence. Hidden enough behind their slim shoulders, you could safely watch the Sers spar. Though, it was not for their cacophony that you made such moves.

It was for the music made by Aemond’s singing blade.

“Can you see back there?”

“Yes,” you hissed, barely looking at the squire in front of you hoping he would hold his craning neck back with the ask, likely assuming you were some other yard hand watching on. You perched yourself on the tips of your toes and caught a glimpse of racing silver. The crowd rose up in turn and you heard the dull, heavy thud of a leather-armored body hitting the packed dirt. Hoots and hollers resounded about the yard, bringing a wide smile to your lips.

“Aemond fell Boric the Beast?” You asked, already knowing the answer.

“Prince Aemond,” the squire corrected, his head turning to look at you, eyes wide in appalled surprise. You noted the scarlet cloths he adorned, the scattered ten pellets that echoed the growing reach of House Cole. “The Prince fell the Beast.”

“Yes, Prince Aemond,” you echoed, suddenly feeling a bit too seen and far too memorable as the squire studied you with disgust. He had marked your face for the ‘offense’ you committed against the royal family, but before he could tag you for it, the ramble of the crowd swallowed him whole. The men bounced and bobbed, eager for the next match, shouldering one another towards the center. You took advantage of the bustle and slipped back into the shadows of the Red Keep.

You set your back against the sun-baked brick and took a trembling breath. Eight years and simply slip of a name could—

“What are you doing here?”

On instinct, your body straightened, ready to greet a man of higher rank, to put on airs of simply being lost somewhere unfit for one of your station. You watched as the shadowy visage approached, all slow and suspecting. Quick to please by the grace of your father’s lessons, you bowed, folding your nerves in your stomach until they were nearly nonexistent.

“My Lord,” you said, dipping your form. “I find myself a touch turned around and-”

“I’m no Lord.”

Prickling fear licked your face until it started to sting. “I-”

“I’m your Prince.”

The figure grew close, allowing the stink of sweat and blood and smoke filled your nose, filling you with a strange sort of relief. “Aemond.”

You immediately melted in him, so fluidly that he had to quickly raise his arms up around you. The leathers of his armor squeaked slightly as Aemond moved, just as the sharpness of nerves eeked out of you with a sigh. At the sound, his hold on you tightened.

“I did not mean to frighten you, only play.”

“No, no,” and as you spoke, you finally met his eyes. With your head craned up against his chest, you were greeted with his jaw and lips first. That was, until, that he tilted his head down, and his bright blue eye drank in the sight of you. For a moment, you forgot you were speaking. “I- Cole’s squire, in the yard…he saw me.”

Aemond raised a brow, lips pursed in question. “And?”

Before you could respond with a biting urgency, he cut you off with a kiss, a ravenous thing that had you backed up against the brick once more with Aemond’s hands guiding your hips. You gasped at the roughness but found yourself leaning into it, letting any worry melt in the warmth of his mouth. Aemond nipped at your lower lip before trailing down the column of your neck.

“Aemond-”

“I will have him dealt with,” he grumbled, pulling away. “Even if he decides to feed the rumor mill, who will the people believe? A nameless face from a lowly vassal or the Prince?”

He held your gaze as the question floated in the limited space between you both. You thought of the squire, House Cole, your own family. A lowly vassal. The Prince. Yes, who would the people believe?

And it was like you were small again, standing in front of the Iron Throne, looking up at ten-year-old Aemond as he, so high upon the unreachable steps, scowling down at you.

Only, in the present, the wound that took Aemond’s eye was no longer raised and red. It was as pink as his post-kiss flush that roared in his cheeks. You reached out and let your fingertips trace the right peak of his face. Immediately, Aemond tilted into your touch. His lips grazed your palm, his eye closed, and you were back in yourself, all too aware of the tightening in your chest.

“My Prince.”

Aemond opened his eye slowly and a smile made his mouth into a curl.

“My love,” he corrected.

“My love,” you echoed in a sigh, welcoming the easy breath.

Your hand reached up to Aemond’s cheek, but he jerked his head from your reach.

He was already crossing the room away from you, his pace leading toward the small table nearest the window. There, perched on the marble top, were chalices and bottles of wine that glimmered crimson in the torchlight. You saw how his pale hands wrapped around the neck of one of the bottles and pour the Arbor Red into the nearest cup. You saw how his pale hands trembled as he took a drink.

“My love, you are soaked to the bone, let me undress you and-”

“No,” he barked, turning his back fully to you. “I need you to-”

He made a choked sound and shook his head, the damp, silver strands cascading down his shoulders. You watched his arm move, bringing the chalice of wine back to his lips. His hesitation made your stomach twist painfully and your breaths grew shallow.

“What do you need from me?”

“Stay.”

“It’s nearly dawn.”

Aemond moved then, his bare chest pressing against yours as he propped himself up on his hands to loom over you. Pinned between him and his bed, everything felt like silken sheets. “Do you answer to the sun?”

You bit back a laugh when Aemond ducked his head into the crook of your neck, his breath tickling the sensitive skin there before he kissed it. With him in such good humor, your reply was a teasing one: “I answer to no one.”

“Mmm, no one?” Aemond asked, pulling back. His head is cocked to the side, a smirk playing on his lips so deliciously. “I recall you answering to me last evening.”

You grinned and pressed a hand against Aemond’s shoulder, trying to push him off. He doesn’t budge, and his smirk widens with all the mischief of a young man enraptured. “But that is you.”

“The Prince.”

You push again, but Aemond stays still and smiling. Seeing no other recourse, you craned your neck up and kissed him. He hummed again, and you pushed in time, letting his bare back fall against the sheets. There was no sound of surprise, no break in your joined mouths. When you did pull yourself from him, Aemond tried to hold you close, your hips against his.

Any move you made was a move he allowed. “Aemond,” you pressed, warningly.

“My love,” he replied, his tone mimicking yours. You shook your head at his teasing, blamed yourself for letting his play chip away at the moment.

“I love you,” you said, redirecting your mind by focusing on his eye, how the blue shown in the early slivers of sun. “Not the Prince. You, Aemond. You know this.”

“Dōna run,” he breathed, High Valyrian dripping easily from his tongue. “How charming it is that you see the two as separate.”

“They are. You are different at court, in the yard, with your family. With me you are honest and unrehearsed,” you brushed your thumb along his lips, tracing his expression, “true.”

“True.” He chewed on the word before frowning. “Then, I fear I do not recognize myself.”

“Well, I see you.”

You leaned down and cupped his face in your hands. His jaw was hard against your palms and itchy with silver stubble. With your thumbs, you pushed Aemond’s lips into a smile before you let the corners of his mouth fall again. After a second time, the smile stuck without your holding it in place and you laughed.

“There you are.”

Aemond flexed his abdomen beneath you and moved to sit up, capturing your lips with his in a searing kiss. His hands rose up from your bare hips to your sides, before racing up to your neck. Against your thighs, you felt his body roll up towards you and the sensation sent a shock through you. A gasp parted your lips and had Aemond grinning like a fool.

“There you are,” he echoed, before kissing you again. “Now, tell me how you see me.”

His hips ground against yours as his mouth continued on with the teasing the skin of your neck. “Aemond.”

“Listen to your Prince- your love.”

“Go.”

“Go?”

You watched as he took another gulp of wine before he threw the empty chalice to the cold floor. It clattered and your stomach lurched in fright. Wine droplets dripped off the lip of the cup and melded into the rain storm Aemond left on the stone tile. Rivers of red raced about the room then, echoing gruesome tourney’s past. Or those to come.

“Leave,” Aemond said at last. “Go back to whatever middling plot your father was gifted by my King Father to buy his silence regarding my Rogue Uncle’s doings and leave.”

“Aemond-”

In a rush of silver, he spun on his heel and faced you. His eye was bright blue, burning from within itself as if dragonfire were his flesh. Through bared teeth and with a pointed finger, he growled, “do not. Do not- Address me as befitting your station or I will have the guards remove you.”

An ache filled you and tightened about your chest. “Ae- My Prince, have I done something to offend you so that you wish for my absence?”

Aemond’s flared nostrils shrank with an unsteady breath, as did the twitching of his eye. He dropped his pointed finger and straightened his stance. How different he seemed from himself moments ago, though, even then, unrecognizable.

“I am to wed a Lady of Storm’s End.”

Tears sprung from your eyes. “Do you not even know her name?”

Aemond answered with silence and the ache grew inside you like a tree. Its thick roots anchored you to the floor and wrapped around your throat. All you had was your mind and it was tangled, trying to find reason when there was none. You could not even find Aemond’s gaze as he kept it fixed to the ground, waiting for it to fall out from under you, you imagined bitterly.

“What,” you choked out, shaking your head, your tears adding to the small flood. “What happened? Please, let me see you.”

After a long beat, Aemond lifted his head then, his eye, no longer ablaze, found yours. “I am ordering you to leave.”

The ache began to change, burning itself into a plague of frustration. You dared to step towards him, and when he did not say a word, you took another. Then, another, until finally you could feel his shallow breaths and smell the storm that clung to him. “Let me see you.”

He took a breath and you saw his shoulders sink slightly as he replied, “war is brewing, and you- I need you to leave.”

“And your marriage secures the Baratheons as your allies,” you realized, taking a step back. “You’re playing Prince again.”

“I am not playing Prince,” he growled, his brows furrowing and anger returning to fill out his deepening voice. “I am the Prince, I was born for this. You simply elected to be blind to it, to my duty. Blind to this,” he gestured between the two of you, “and its predestined end.”

You nodded. “A lowly vassal.”

“What?”

“When the Cole squire saw me, you asked me who the people would believe: a lowly vassal or the Prince. I believed in you.”

“The me you thought you saw,” he spat, stepping towards you, closing the gap. You could feel the heat of him emanating off of him like the stink of a feral boar.

“I saw you,” you reached out with a shaking hand and pressed your palm against his chest before you brought yourself closer with one last step. “And I fear I always will.”

You leaned up on the tips of your toes and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. When you backed away, you saw red in the whites of Aemond’s eye, a glimmering threat of tears. Tears you knew he would not let fall, even after you had gone. Yet, you still believed in him, that maybe he saw himself, who he could be, and would allow himself the grace to move.

“I wish you good fortune in the days that come,” you murmured and made your way towards the door. As you stepped out into the halls of the Red Keep for the last time, you heard the thud of knees against stone and a bitten-back cry.

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ghostgorlsworld · 5 months

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Johnny Boy (Werwolf! Soap x reader) Part two

Once upon a time, you would've done anything for John Mctavish. He had been your older brother's cool best friend, and you were always desperate for him to see you as more--until one fateful night that ends up with you pregnant and him...gone. Fast forward six years and you've made a good life for yourself with your daughter Emma, with Johnny none the wiser. Until he decides to knock on your door.

You can find part one here

Part two:

You dismissed every call that lit up your phone for days, ignoring Tom while he beat down your door, ignoring Susan when she left endless tearful voicemails.

It was a betrayal. It cut deep, reminding you of the days when Tom and John were attached at the hip, always together and never letting you in the loop. Everyone always loved John, and you were sure with the right amount of mournful blue-eyed looks and apologies, your family was willing to let him back in without even a thought.

But they weren’t there, were they? That night when you thought he wanted you, his teeth in your throat, his hips cradled in your thighs.

You woke up alone, sore between your legs and dried blood on your sheets. He was long gone, Tom having driven him to the airport early that morning.

You were twenty, he was twenty five, the same age as your brother. Within two months, you were showing and he was nowhere to be found, off playing hero in some distant war.

Emma didn’t understand. You catch her looking outside curiously, seeming to be searching for someone. You find things out of place in your closet, where she must have been looking for some relic of his.

There are none. He left you nothing of his except her.

“He’s going to come back,” she said, once, while the two of you were having dinner.

You were still in your work clothes, a sweater and a pencil skirt, your fork half-way to your mouth. “Who, Emma?” She looked at you, so knowing for a child so young. “My dad. Can’t you smell him?”

A chill slid down your spine. “Emma, I’m not like you,” you said. “Where did you smell him?” “On you, Mum,” she said, as if it was obvious. “He’s all over you.” It seemed the military taught him a few tricks.

The next day, Emma was proved right.

It was an early Saturday morning, Emma was still asleep in your bed while you shifted quietly in the kitchen, half paying attention to the telly playing some mindless cartoon.

A knock on the door.

You paused, lowering your cup of coffee.

You hated that you always knew when he was around. Some nameless feeling that you’ve had since you were a little girl.

Another knock, this one more insistent.

His voice, calm and deep. “Come on, hen, let's have it out.”

You took a step towards the bedroom, having half a mind to close the door and ignore the knocks until he went away.

“Don’t.”

You paused, mid-step.

“Please.”

Johnny never said please. He was the fighter, always unyielding and laughing, thinking it was funny when his mouth got him in trouble.

You’re wearing a soft slip and a robe. You tie it before you open the door, your hands trembling against the door knob.

He looked awful. His eyes were red, like he hadn’t slept in the last three days, his hair ruffled. He was wearing your brother's clothes that didn’t quite fit, another stir of anger in your chest at the thought of Tom letting him stay at his house.

The fucking traitor.

“You look like shit,” you said, your words like a bite.

His mouth twitched. “I missed you too, kitty.”

God you hated that word. You got that nickname at three years old and you’ve despised it ever since.

“What do you want, John?” You asked, your fingers white against the knob.

John leaned in close, like he couldn’t help it, inhaling deeply. His eyes got brighter, an inhuman gleam. “Kitty, I’m so fucking sorry.”

“For what? For fucking me and leaving me to raise your kid? For the six years of silence?” You looked away from his intense stare, knowing full well if you gave an inch he would take a mile. Johnny was like this when you were kids too, so harmless and smiling until he wasn’t, until someone touched one of his toys or took him away from you and Tommy’s house.

“For everything, hen, I…you didn’t deserve any of it,” John stepped even closer, his palm against your door. “Look at me, kitty, c’mon, I’ve thought of you every fucking day for six years and I’ve just found out you’ve had my pup alone.”

“And how do you know I was alone?” You spat, wanting to hurt him, to let him know that you weren’t his anymore.

That might have been the wrong thing to say. Johnny stiffened, his breath hot against your cheek. “Because you still smell like me, kitty.”

Which made no sense. You’ve had sex since he left, a few dates here and there while Emma was staying the night at her grandparents. There should be nothing left, no trace of him–you made sure of it. “I just…I just wanna meet her. Please, hen, I’m her father.”

There’s a part of you that understands that if you refused, Johnny would find a way. Nothing could stop Johnny when he really, really wanted something and wolves were different from normal men. Territorial.

But if you let them meet, then it would be all downhill from there. Emma would get attached and Johnny would enjoy playing daddy for a month or two, then time would be up. He would be across the world again, taking bullets and ripping throats, and you would be here, being a mother and paying the bills.

“John,” you said, suddenly so full of sadness. Why did you have to be the bad guy? Why did it happen like this?

In another life, you would have wanted this with him. Marriage, kids, the whole nine yards–but instead, you had to be the evil bitch keeping him from his kid, though both of you knew he would just break her heart.

“I know, kitty,” he said, like he knew what you were thinking. “But I walked away once. I cannae do it again.” You looked away again, chewing on your lip. His hand twitched and you remembered the way it felt against your hip, pulling you underneath him.

The memory soured your stomach. It was five years ago, for God’s sake, and he was drunk. You shouldn’t remember it with any sort of fondness.

“Come back tomorrow,” you said finally, crossing your arms over your chest. “Eight thirty for breakfast. I’ll do my best to…prepare her.”

Johnny made to touch you, maybe to hug or grip your shoulders but you flinched back, your spine bumping into the door.

“Kitty-” he began but you shook your head, already reaching for the door handle. “Goodbye John.”

Emma was eating lunch when you pulled out a chair at the kitchen table, sitting down with a sigh.

It was time for the talk.

The You Have A Father and He Wants to See You and I Can’t Say No Talk.

Emma, as always, was unflappable. She turned the pages in the Louis L’Amour book every morning when she woke, and every night before dinner. Why would a father materializing out of nowhere phase her?

“Why did he leave?” She asked, tearing tiny triangles in her cheese toastie.

You took a moment to think about your answer. It wouldn’t do to make your daughter hate her father before she could even make her own opinions about him.

You, on the other hand, could hate him as much as you liked.

“He was enlisted in the military, remember?”

She nodded.

“They decided that he was…special. That he could do important work, but there was a price–he couldn’t let anyone know about the important work. They, um, well they had to hide him, keep him from the world so he…he never found out about you.” Emma was silent for a long time, now tearing the crust into crumbs. You waited for her, forcing back the emotion clogging your throat. “But he wants to see me now?” She asked, almost shy.

“Yes, he’s…he’s your father. And he’s like you.”

That was something that really grated on your nerves, the fact that they were so alike, you couldn’t relate to your daughter’s wolfish instincts, couldn’t shift with her on the full moons, couldn’t smell her emotions like she could yours.

“Grandpa was like me,” she said, loyal as always.

“You don’t have to see him if you don’t want to, bear, I promise, I’ll keep him away if that’s what you want.”

Emma pondered this, finally taking a proper bite of her toastie. “I’ll meet him,” she decided. “I’d like to ask him about his secret missions.” You laughed. Wetly. “Alright. He’s going to have breakfast with us tomorrow.” “Eight thirty?” “Eight thirty.”

Emma finished her lunch, and that was that.

It seemed that the only person suffering in this situation was you.

“I’m sorry.” Tommy was upset, you could tell, his cheeks flushed red like they did when you were kids. “I don’t know what I was thinking but I saw Johnny and I thought…God, I can’t lie to him anymore. We can’t lie to him anymore.” “It wasn’t your decision to make, Tom,” you said, your voice reaching that pitch that made you feel like your mother. “At a fucking funeral no less.” “I know, I know. I’m sorry,” Tommy gripped your shoulders and wrestled you into a hug. “I’m a slag, I’m a fucking idiot, just don’t keep you and bear from me anymore, my house is like a fucking coffin without you two.”

“What, your waitress of the week hasn’t been keeping you company?” You snarked, your face in his chest. You allowed him to hug you, a part of you relaxing now that you weren’t pissed at your brother. “I heard John was staying with you.” “Just for now, he has Susan helping him find an apartment around here.”

You stiffened. “What?”

Tom winced, as if kicking himself. “Shit. I wasn’t supposed to say that.”

“God, who’s side are you on Tommy? He abandoned us for six years!” “You know just as well as I do that if he knew about Emma he would’ve been here from the very beginning.” Tommy didn’t understand. “But he didn’t, did he? He screwed your little sister while he was piss-drunk and then left without a word. I’ll never forgive him for it and you shouldn’t either.” “I wasn’t going to, love. I haven’t, really, but…look at him,” Tom clenched his jaw, the love of a brother resurfacing. You remembered being so jealous of their bond, the ease of their friendship. “The fucker’s been through hell, there’s no telling what they have him do out there.” “Nothing that he didn’t sign up for.”

“You and I both know how limited his options were,” Tom said, gripping your shoulders. “How limited Emma’s options will be.”

It wasn’t a thought you could bear to think about for very long. Getting a job, going to high school, getting accepted into college, all of these things were difficult for Emma’s kind, no matter what the government likes to say about equality.

Johnny was smart. So smart. He tinkered with everything, the telly, the lawn mower, your father’s old rifle–he would take things apart to see how they worked and then put them back together even better than they were before.

It killed him when college after college rejected his applications. He had gotten into a few scraps over the years and they showed up on his records, so they stamped him down into the Aggressive list and threw away his application.

The military snagged him shortly after, with promises of being with his own kind and not having to hide what he was.

You couldn’t blame him, not even when he stopped calling on your birthday or visiting for holidays. He had a real family in the military, one that wasn’t just you and Tommy.

You had always been in love with him, forever the younger sibling that followed them around like a lost duckling. You were twenty when he came home again for the first time in a few years and your old feelings came back with a vengeance.

It hurt you more than you would ever tell that you weren’t enough to come home for. That the night you spent together was nothing more than the incident that gave you Emma.

“I know you loved him more than you would ever admit,” Tommy said gently, catching your chin when you tried to look away. “I know he hurt you so badly that it took you years to be able to ever look at another man. Trust me, I hate him for it too, but…he’s her father, love. She needs a father.”

And that was that. You were never enough for anyone, not even Emma. “I know,” you said. “That’s why I haven’t moved to the States and changed my name.” Tom laughed, and neither of you acknowledged that his laugh was about as damp as yours. “Are we still on for next weekend? I’ll need to pick up some ribeyes from the store if I’m going to have Em.” That was right. You had asked Tom weeks ago to watch Emma while you…well, while you went on a date. He was a nice guy, someone you met at work–he was cute in a bookish way, glasses and nice hair and knitted sweaters. You needed nice and cute, something to clear up the stain that Johnny left on you.

“Yeah, Charlie’s picking me up at six, so I’ll have Em over at five thirty.” Tom nodded. “Do…do you want me to tell Johnny why you’re off for the night?”

“God no. It’s none of his fucking business.”

#cod x reader #soap mactavish #cod mw3 #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #call of duty mw3

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 9 months

Note

Could you please do follower!Leshy x follower!Reader, where the readers family was once followers of Narinder sect of the old faith but once Narinder was locked away, to avoid death, readers family went into hiding. Years later with Lamb's cult, reader joins because they wish to continue to serve the red crown, no matter who's head it is on. The readers mannerisms and ways of worship comes off as unsettling to the bishops because it was things only taught under the ruling of Narinder. The lamb and Narinder think that the reader is fine, if not the best follower in the cult, due to these reasons. Leshy and Reader could possibly have a pre-established relationship at the time of this story? And if it matters, gender neutral reader, please.

Thank you in advance (even if you don't write the request, which is also perfectly fine)

Oooo I like this! Also gives me chance to expand on my hcs for what Narinder's cult was like before he was banished.

......

"You. Come hither."

As you gracefully walked through the endless white fog of your lord's realm, you felt as though you were wading across water, passing by chains and piles of skulls. Yet your robes remained perfectly dry.

Such a strange land, this was. But you've grown accustomed to it.

In your hands, you clutched a scythe that he bestowed upon you himself: "Death's Attendant", as he called it. You never went anywhere without it, using its necromantic powers to cull heretics and show skeptics the almighty power of your god.

Before long you stood before Narinder's throne of blood, stone, ivory, and bone, where he sat, black skeletal fingers tapping impatiently against the arm rest. From behind his veil, a trio of glowing red eyes gazed down towards your small and hooded form.

The single one on the Red Crown reflected his mood, looking particuarly disgruntled.

You kneeled down, keeping one hand on the scythe's handle. "Yes, master?"

"As you may know, my siblings have grown..suspicious of my new doctrines." His voice rumbled. "They believe it shall lead to catastrophic consequences for the natural order if I continue to preach them. But....remind me, who brought forth such ideals to me? Who pushed me to explore them freely, hm?" Pausing, he stared at you.

"Bishop Shamura." You answered without missing a heartbeat.

"And right you are, my pupil." He bared his teeth into a sharp grin, although it was quick to disappear as his grip on the chair tightened. "Dear Shamura has no problem with it...and yet my own brothers and sister apparently do. They don't even trust the wisest of us that I know what I'm doing..is that not madness??"

You nodded. "It seems most unusual, master. Do you have a plan to convince them?"

"They've summoned me for a meeting at midnight..apparently they are open to discussing how I could integrate my laws into the Old Faith's teachings. Finally, I can show them that my ideas of change needn't frighten them."

"Even if..it were to contradict their own ideals of chaos, famine, disease, and war?" You asked cautiously.

"But of course.." He scoffed. "If all of those can fluctuate..why not death, too? Why should it only flow one way? Where's the freedom in that? I can teach them that everlasting life is both a blessing that can reunite families old and young...and a curse to those who think death is liberation from servitude. Just imagine us having the power to resurrect..over and over again."

"It would be foolish for them to reject such powers. It would do wonders for the Old Faith."

Narinder's smile was closed now, his gaze softening as he leaned back on his throne. "I'm honored to call you my brightest pupil. Now rise, and I shall give you this one task in my absence."

You rose to your feet obediently, gazing up at him. "I'm ready to receive it."

"Go back to the village and continue preaching my gospel, for I will need everyone's faith and devotion now more than ever. Lead any naysayers down my righteous path. Great changes are coming, [y/n]..and I expect you to assure each and every one of them that it's for the good of the Old Faith."

"Yes, master." Nodding, you looked down at the scythe, giving it a small twirl. "It shall be done, but..when should I expect your re....turn..?

But when you looked back up, he was nowhere to be found.

You were left all alone in a vacant throne room.

"...master?"

"........"

"Master Narinder??!"

"Master-!!"

With a sudden gasp, you sat up, nearly hitting the ceiling of your shelter. You looked all around, putting a hand to your chest and getting your labored breathing under control, squeezing your eyes shut.

Before long, you felt another hand rest over your own, while the other was pressed to your back.

"Hey, hey. Easy..you're not in Narinder's temple anymore."

Hearing the familiar voice of your spouse, you opened your eyes to see his gentle hands of leafy-green foliage, a wedding band wrapped around one of his wooden claws.

Then you looked at his face, smiling and curling up against his chest, slowly calming down as you realized you were back in the present. "Thank you, Leshy...f-forgive me if I disturbed your rest."

"Oh not at all. I couldn't sleep a wink because my siblings are having another quarrel.." He grumbled, petting your [ears/antlers/hair]. "At least you were able to get some shut-eye.."

"They're at it again?" You blinked slowly. "Oh, what ever could it be this time?"

"From what I'm hearing...an elder died near their sleeping quarters, and they don't know what to do with the body. Lamb is away, Narinder's on a spiritual journey..and they're too prideful to ask anybody else for help."

"I'll take care of it, dear." Sighing, you left the shelter and stretched your arms and legs, donning your golden immortality necklace. "You can rest."

"Good luck to you." He grumbled as he took your place, while you headed over to the ex-bishops to see what was the matter.

"S-Seriously, we need to do something about this! I'm gonna be sick.."

"Let's just...chop them...up..and...feast."

"No, no..it would be wise to stow their body in the morgue and let Lamb take care of it. They know best how to bury their dead."

"...alright, but I'm not touching it! Although...I do like that pretty little necklace-"

"That is not yours to take, Kallamar."

Yelping, the blue squid jumped nearly six feet in the air, before the three siblings turned to see you there. You always had that habit of showing up without making any sound...something that spooked most followers here.

Especially the former bishops.

"I was already having a rough sleep..and then I see you all having a childish argument while one of our beloved elders is rotting on the ground." You scowled, shaking your head. "It's disgraceful. They led a virtuous life..and you deny them a virtuous sendoff."

They were all silent, having never dealt with death themselves since arriving into Lamb's cult.

You being here didn't help their anxieties, as you reminded them of everything they condemned Narinder for...ultimately choosing to shackle him and cut him off from this world, his ideals lost for generations.

You and your family were the only living proof that he used to have his own sector to rule. But with that gone, you were forced into hiding for years before hearing word that the Red Crown's chosen one was resurrected.

The vessel prophesized to bring an end to the Old Faith.

There were many before Lamb, such as Ratau, whom you have faithfully served, but it mattered not to you whose head the crown sat upon.

Only the crown itself.

When Narinder tried reclaiming it, and was beaten into submission, you held no ill-will towards your first and former master. You still called him lord, although your devotion was directed towards Lamb, serving as the cult's undertaker and teaching others how to bury the dead.

It made him feel rather bitter and jealous, reminding you that you had the privilege of being his favorite pupil...but eventually he accepted this loss, too.

He grew to admire you during the sermons Lamb permitted you to lead when they were out crusading, speaking of the Red Crown's might with such passion and diligence, inspiring all who listened to your words.

Narinder, who stood front and center, sees you haven't changed much over these last few centuries. You could have worn that crown yourself just as well as Lamb, had he offered it up to you.

The ex-bishops, on the other hand, became wary around you as each of them were indoctrinated. Things were awkward considering they tried to execute your family when you refused to abandon Narinder's gospel...

And now in the present, you were here scolding them like children.

Leshy, however, has warmed up to you rather quickly, eventually asking for your hand in marriage (with Lamb's permission, of course). It shocked his siblings when they arrived to the temple and saw the ritual taking place, the cheers of your fellow followers drowning out their cries of protest as you said your vows.

They accuse you of brainwashing the youngest of them...and still believe that to this very day.

You didn't care, though, and neither did Leshy.

You sighed, kneeling down to fix the pendant on the elder's necklace, closing their eyes and folding their arms across their chest. "There, now they'll be easier to bury once rigor mortis settles in."

"Rigor...what?" Kallamar asked bluntly, confused.

"The state in which a body's limbs lock up. Usually this happens within a few hours of death."

"..eugh..."

"Ah yes, yes...brother Narinder has spoken of that once.." Shamura nodded, finding your explanations intriguing.

"Has he? Well..I suppose I should give you all a lesson in mummification." You looked up to make sure they were paying attention. "It's one of the responsibilities of undertakers here."

"I am familiar with that." The purple spider muttered.

"Good, but since Kallamar and Heket are staring at me like I have three heads...this is for them."

"Huh?"

"What's...mummi...fication..?"

"A way to protect the body from natural elements. Lamb finds that it streamlines the resurrection ritual. Of course, it's easier to revive someone who's been properly buried than someone who's been hacked to bite-sized pieces." You looked at Heket, who only scowled back at you in return.

Fortunately, she's gotten better at biting her tongue these days.

And so you showed the ex-bishops how to properly mummify the body, explaining all the steps as you carefully wound the linen around their corpse. Once that was finished, you hauled it off to the nearest crypt, where you stored it among the several other occupied caskets lying within.

They followed you in prayer as you uttered a few departing words, knowing that they will either rise again to continue serving the Lamb, or permanently depart from this plane into the afterlife.

Afterwards, Kallamar, Heket, and Shamura were able to go back to sleep in their shared shelter, believing they've learned something of great importance...something that they tried to squander when it was Narinder teaching them.

Death was a subject that once terrified them all, even as semi-immortal gods themselves...so much so they sought to avoid discussions of it except when punishing their followers.

But now?

Now they felt more enlightened than ever.

#clanask #cult of the lamb x reader #cotl x reader #bishop followers #leshy x reader #follower leshy #follower heket #follower kallamar #follower shamura

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yenqa · 10 months

Text

die first

❥・ genre ⇢ enemies to lovers, angst, hurt no comfort, demigod/percy jackson au, reader is child of athena and jake a child of hermes warnings ⇢ major character death, blood and monsters, weapons (swords), pain?? crying, plz tell me if there’s more pairing ⇢ son of hermes!jake x child of athena!reader (female) wc ⇢ 855

dying wasn’t really like a big deal to you.

it was until you were thrust into a world where you had to fight mythical creatures every day just because you were a demigod.

you were tired, actually. you couldn’t get close to anyone without being scared of their death or even dying.

so, you closed off. you couldn’t be hurt if you didn’t even know them, right?

when there was a war against kronos, you didn’t care that everyone was dying, i mean, you didn’t even know them.

an unknown monster scratches your shoulder, and you yelp, pulling yourself together to stab the monster basically on you. watching the dust coat your newly cleaned sword.

"what happened, sword girl? can’t keep up with the battle?" jake teases, slicing through the three coming for him.

you sigh "now’s not the right time for jokes, jester," you say, trying your best to hold off monsters coming at you.

jake was basically the only person you knew. well, sort of.

he was the only person to ever capture the flag with you watching, and he laughed as he ran with it. that day, the opposing team won, which also resulted in you gaining a new enemy—technically, he was your only enemy, but who’s counting? ever since, you’ve been trying to one-up each other at everything, from who gets more oracles to who can skip rocks the farthest.

you wipe the sweat off your forehead, catching your breath before charging at the monster behind jake, missing the stab to the heart just by a few centimeters. the dust explodes over you.

"gross," you whisper quietly.

"care about me that much, sword girl? i didn’t know you wanted to keep me alive that much," he says, with your back pressed to yours.

"you wish."

the battle continues, with a swarm of monsters surrounding you two.

you try to slice the few monsters coming for you, quickly taking your sword back to stab another. you can feel blood forming on your shoulder from the scratch, growing stiff and tired.

focused on your shoulder, you don’t realize that a pit scorpion was creeping behind the small crowd you gained.

"y/n watch out!" jake yells, and you aren’t sure why.

he launches himself in front of you, shielding you from the sting.

he instantly falls to the ground, a red welt forming on his chest.

"fuck, jester, why would you do that?" you help him up. letting him lean on you as you fight through the crowd.

he speaks incoherently, and god, you walk as fast as you can.

"healers? healer, i need a healer!" you cry and cry.

but no one answers; people drop to the floor, fighting as you look around as quickly as you can. where the fuck are the healers?

you scream in pain as another monster claws at your leg. you do your best to kick it off, running to wherever.

"chaewon, do you have ambrosia?" you quickly say, and she seems shocked, "n-no i’m sorry, y/n. but there are more healers over there." she points, and you nod, putting jake's weight on you as you pull him as fast as you can.

"ambrosia! i need ambrosia, please!" you beg.

you’re quickly given a bag of ambrosia, you quickly lay jake down, forcing open his mouth and stuffing the sweet food in.

"jake? jake are you there? fuck—can you see me?" your vision blurs as tears start wetting his shirt. he chuckles weakly.

"don’t fucking laugh, jester? are you there?"

"you called me jake."

"what? what are you talking about?"

he smiles ever so slightly and says, "you called me jake, you never call me jake."

you scoff lightly, "i do, all the time. but that’s not important," you say, wiping the tears forming again. "are you okay?"

"i feel sleepy."

you cup his face, and you feel his thumb on your cheek, wiping your tears away.

"jake, please, keep your eyes on me." you beg, and he smiles.

"i love it when you say my name; can you say it more often?" he whispers.

"i’ll say it whenever you want, jake, just please. stay awake." you sniffle.

"don’t cry, pretty. please don’t cry."

"i’ll stop, just please, stay awake."

"i’m sorry."

he slowly closes his eyes, letting his body go limp.

"fuck—jake, are you there? please. jake?"

you call his name an infinite number of times. but he never answers.

and you pray and pray that you die instead of him. you beg to every god ever known, but none of then ever answer.

you lay on his chest, wetting his shirt with your flowing tears.

you feel a soft arm on your back, which you rip off.

"get the fuck off me!" you yell, turning with puffy eyes to see a scared chaewon.

"oh shit—i’m sorry chae, i just-"

"it’s okay, everything will be okay, y/n." she cuts you off, placing her soft hand on your back once again and slightly rubbing it.

but it’s not okay. it’s not okay at all. not when you're still alive, and jake's dead right in front of you. nothings okay.

you didn’t care much about anyone, but watching him die in front of you made you realize, you’d do anything to die first.

taglist ⇢ @jwnghyuns @ja4hyvn @trsrina @redm4ri @badmuni @yeokii @enhastolemyheart @softpia @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick

yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.

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quillkiller · 17 days

Note

pleasepleaseplease elaborate on bartylus as orpheus and eurydice variants please if you want

mil!!!!! you sent this to me 2 minutes before my shift started….. i was losing my mind…. they’ve been in my head ever since…. i just got home thank god !!!!!!

anyway. so i have this au/wip which is loosly (very loose!!) based on the eurydice and orpheus myth but also set in canon. i have a tag for it ’fic: don’t look back’ <3

here��s a little snippet:

”Barty,”

It comes out as a breath, as an exhale— but it almost shatters him. If he wasn’t on his knees already he knows they would buckle. Knows he would fall down at Regulus’ feet. He almost looks.

so regulus still goes to the cave, and he still dies. he doesn’t go out of the kindness of his heart, but because he’s tired and he did it all wrong and he can’t win and he just wants it to be over. he goes because he misses his brother and he wants his brother to live. he doesn’t care about the rest of it, the war, the two sides, voldy or dumbledore or the prophecy. he wants out and he’ll never get his brother back so he’ll do this one thing to (hopefully) save his brother even if sirius will never know <3 after that he’s done. he goes to the cave knowing he’s going to die and he wants to. he yearns for the dark and the quiet !!!! he’s 17 and he thinks he’s lived way too long and he just wants out now

he leaves barty a letter. it’s vague but barty figures it out. they spend one last night together because regulus is selfish and greedy and want him just one more night. they used to fumble around back at hogwarts. they were each others firsts and they trusted each other but they were never together. not actually. just stumbling into each others beds, shakey hand jobs, clumsy blowjobs, sloppy kisses. they didnt really talk about it either but not in an awkward way, they just didnt really need to. it was about comfort and love and boyhood and fear and safety and they’re just. so special to me. not dating, not best friends, but a secret third thing. just so completely intertwined but so different from each other.

- virginia woolf. this is the bartylus dynamic to me. like. everything was awful, their homes, their circumstances, their surroundings, their expecations. but they were also just boys. everythings awful but sometimes they’d sit in the slytherin common room and they’d make each other laugh. sirius left but barty is waiting for him at kings cross with a grin :,)

anyway. it all sort of stopped after they both took the dark mark. they still had each others backs and they’re always best friends and intertwined!! but i guess there’s just too much else to think about now ahdhdjajfjkd. but reg comes to barty the night before he leaves for the cave and they properly spend the night together. its messy and miserable and lovely and it feels like a goodbye. reg leaves before barty wakes up the next morning.

barty!!!!!!!! goes mad. mad with regret and anger and desperation and love and hatred and every other emotion under the sun. he wants him back and he will get him back. barty is smart, was top of his class, is a quick learner in all things magic. i don’t know how long it takes, if its months or years, but barty is on a rampage and he’s seeing red and he’s not sleeping and he’s not at all himself. he sees reg as a ghost, talks to him, he’s haunted. he aquires several forbidden books from shady sources about magic that has long since been banned. he will bring regulus back if it’s the last thing he does. eventually he finds either a spell or some magic ritual (haven’t figured it out yet) that existed back in the 1700s but has been banned almost immediately due to people just. coming back wrong. miserable and wailing. barty’s not seeing that though. he’s just seeing that he can bring him back. so he learns everything there is to know about the spell/ritual and then sets out to go to the cave. months or years later, i still haven’t decided. i think it would be a little sexy if it was a couple years after reg died.

that’s where the eurydice & orpheus myth comes in. basically barty isn’t allowed to look at regulus until they both get out of the place where he died. but it also differs because regulus so desperately wants him to look. regulus is miserable when he’s brought back. miserable and young and confused and angry.

by paul tran is and always will be rab when he enters the cave!!

so reg is trying to seduce barty to please look at him. please look at me. and barty wants to more than anything. the first time he finally takes a breath since regs death is when he finally brings him back. the relief overwhelming. and it lasts for 0.01 seconds because regulus doesn’t want to live. he’s so angry and he’s sobbing and wants to go back. but barty doesn’t want him to. and he’s telling regulus it’s going to be okay and they’ll be okay and he’ll protect him and take care of him. but regulus doesn’t care. and barty is desperate:/

sadly barty is greedy. and weak. and it’s been years and it’s desperate and he can’t remember the shade of blueish gray regs eyes were. and regs pleading hurts. and barty just wants him. he just wants him and wants to keep him and he was never ready to lose him and he isn’t ready now. but it all boils down to the fact that barty is equally impulsive as he is strategic. he spent years (?) trying to figure out a way to being regulus back and more of his friends died during that time. he’s done what he set out to do. so he looks. because reg is asking him to and because barty isn’t strong enough not to look at what he wants

and yeah.

#fic: don’t look back #THIS IS SO LONG IM SORRY…….#bartylus #ive missed them

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an-idyllic-novelist · 11 months

Note

Hello my sweet darling!!

I would like to request some teeth rotting fluff please!

Some general relationship HCs for Ares x Mitsuri reader, what are they like as a couple and gifts they would get for each other just because it was a Tuesday and wanted to make the other smile.

Stay happy and safe my friend!

Ask and it shall be done, my dear friend! ☀️

There is no doubt that you two would make a very cute couple in Valhalla. Ares might be the Grecian god of war, but he is quite a softie beneath his harsh exterior, though it would have taken some time to actually muster up the courage to confess how he felt towards you.

In his eyes, you were incredibly gorgeous. The way you carried yourself confidently yet humbly in the halls as a handmaiden of Athena, greeting the gods respectfully with a nod of your head and a bright smile…he was dazzled, and he did not feel that he was worthy of trying to court for your hand nor it was the right time.

He had been separated from Aphrodite for 112 years, five months, three weeks, twelve hours and eight minutes. The goddess of love and pleasure had always been fickle as she had been vain, all flaws that Ares wholeheartedly accepted….until a surprise visit at her temple turned into a massive argument when he saw his beloved in the arms of her ex-boyfriend Adonis, just weeks after they had reconciled after another breakup.

The one who had been able to pull his head out of his ass had been none other than Athena. She might have shared Artemis’ vow of chastity and did not take a lover like her siblings, but the goddess of wisdom was not blind as how you, her handmaiden, looked at him with a lovestruck gaze or blushed fiercely when he greeted you.

You were smitten with him, plain and simple.

Normally, she would not allow romantic relationships to foster amongst her handmaidens as a vow of chastity was required to be accepted into her temple. You were the exception to such a rule because you were not truly a handmaiden. You were a Demon Slayer, tasked with protecting her for a short duration until the situation had been…resolved. Uncle Hades was the one to recommend you, as you were one of the strongest soldiers under his command.

The demon who had attacked the city under her divine protection and slaughtered many mortals was a malevolent being not to be taken lightly. It had the ability to split itself into four individual bodies, each with a special power. A god could certainly try to kill a demon…but their weapon would either be destroyed once it made contact with its extremely durable skin, or they would be its next meal.

Only the sword of a Demon Slayer can kill a demon. The best method was a clean cut across the neck, severing the head as quickly as possible before it regenerated any of its wounds or missing body parts.

You had been very diligent in your task, obeying her commands with such vitality and enthusiasm it almost made Athena envious of such a bright mortal. But seeing you sigh longingly after him is starting to give the goddess of wisdom a headache, which is why she traveled all this way to see him.

Will he accept her feelings and stop clinging to the shred of hope that Aphrodite will come back to him, or remain melancholy for the rest of his immortal life? He is the one who now holds the key to your heart in his hands. To turn it and unlock another path to a fulfilling love…or to return the key to her…that’s up to him.

Athena then left the temple, her flowing robes billowing behind her as a dumbstruck Ares scrambled with words, dumbstruck at what his sister just said.

You…loved him. You were in love with him?

He quickly sought you out and asked if it were true, and his response had been witnessing your face turn just as red as his own face and squeaked a small ‘yes’.

Ares.exe stopped working. Internally, however, he was jumping for joy that maybe, just maybe, you were the one. The one who would love him unconditionally. It took a few minutes to break out of his reverie upon hearing your worried voice call out to him, [Eye Color] orbs glistening with unshed tears.

He immediately reassured you that he was all right…just stunned and happy. When you accepted his hand with the intent of courting, Ares felt love begin to blossom in his heart again.

Uncle Hades, though, made it quite clear that the two of you needed to be discreet. Your duties to protect Valhalla and its people as the Love Hashira came first.

What followed were picnic dates, exploring the markets of Valhalla and even an opportunity to ride a winged horse in the sky when the weather was absolutely perfect.

Gift exchanges happened too, although Ares did overdo it a few times with luxurious bouquets of roses or high-end confectionaires from a well-known bakery. He was over the moon with anything you gave him, whether it was a brand new cape to replace a tattered one that got ruined in his last battle, or bought dinner on a Tuesday night, whenever he wanted to go.

If he felt a bit fired up, he’d invite you to spare with him. He had come close to being beaten not once, but twice. On the third time he was on his back, but it didn’t bother him at all. In fact, he saw it as another opportunity to grow and become stronger. You were more than happy to help him with his flexibility, although it was a bit…painful.

And that was saying a lot from a god with a high pain tolerance.

He never made fun of your strength or strangely-colored hair, finding that such traits suited you perfectly. There was no need to change who you were to make someone else happy.

Ares almost a panic attack when you began crying after he said those words, but you reassured him that these were happy tears, not sad ones.

He’d be a gentleman, always offering to carry heavy objects for you and hold your hand firmly, yet carefully as if he were afraid he’d hurt you accidentally. If someone has tried to make a move on you or acted incredibly rude towards you for whatever reason, whether it was because of your hair, your appetite, your strength… the hapless ingrate better start running.

#shuumatsu no valkyrie #an idyllic novelist #ror x reader #snv x reader #record of ragnarok #ror ares #snv ares #ares x reader #mitsuri!reader #request #fem reader

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thenightmarketofdathomir · 12 days

Text

Fic: Water of Life (Opress Bros x Reader)

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Opress Brothers x Reader Word Count: 6k Warnings: Dubious consent (if you're uncomfortable with situations involving penetrative sex while under the influence of alcohol or drugs, this is not for you), memory loss, substance use, ritual sex, anonymous sex, p in v, p in a, dps, poly, orgy, size difference, rough sex, primal play, ritual marking, stalking, power dynamics

Summary: A spiritual pilgrimage for Dathomir’s third moon festival requires little of its attendees: respect for the culture and respect for its rituals are paramount, and you must always do as the Nightbrothers say — but you know for certain, what is lost in the process never outweighs what’s gained…

Least of all when Lord Maul throws a party in honour of the old Gods.

Please Read/A Further Warning: If you're uncomfortable with situations involving penetrative sex while under the influence of alcohol or drugs, this is not for you. The Reader experiences memory loss of the event, and while there is no doubt she consented, the description may prove triggering for some readers. The author does not condone or encourage the use of mind altering substances while engaging in sexual activities, and the descriptions of the power dynamic here do not reflect a real world BDSM relationship. This is purely a work of fiction with darker elements.

Notes and an excerpt below the cut 👇 | Read the fic on Ao3 👉

Notes: This is very much a response tailored to the particular request -- largely because the askee and I are friends and we share two particular interests: Star Wars and Sleep Token. To that ends, this story has been shaped by a couple of notable influences from its playlist, so if you’re unfamiliar but would like to be better acquainted, I suggest giving Jaws, The Offering, and The Summoning a listen. Worship.

You wake the next afternoon with Dathomir's sun already at a half slant, making a red slash across your legs. The sheets are a tangle, but somehow you made it back to bed the night before. Everything's mussy, bleary around the edges from too much blackroot tonic, your muscles sore from dancing around the bonfires that lit the mountains in a long chain --

Every peak ablaze.

And every window to every hut in the Night City had been lit up, the caves and quarters of the Nightbrothers offering libations for new friends and visitors alike gold and green in the night. The revels had lasted until morning, pathways through the grave thorns lit with candles and brazier light leading to secluded alcoves where your memories get a little hazy -- all you know is that you've never seen anything like it, any place else in the galaxy.

Lord Maul really knows how to throw a party.

The thought brings a smile to your face, even though you haven't seen the man -- more a legend by the way the Nightbrothers speak of him: he's the one responsible for Dathomir's restoration, but he doesn't partake of the third moon festival. He's yet to make an appearance, as far as you know, but there are plenty of Nightbrothers, all of them keen on demonstrating their artistry in the games, many looking for partners to dance with, to play host to visitors wanting a taste of the authentic, revived Dathomiri magical traditions -- and your hosts have been more than accommodating.

Everyone is looking for something, that’s why you've come here. What you don’t yet know is the question, though you’re sure there’s an answer:

Something missing. You’re sure here you’ll find it. Whatever it is.

You shift, the sheets slipping, and realize you might've gone overboard on your very first day. Everything aches, your muscles sore from all night spent in the grave thorns and the caves, and you're tender in places you hadn't expected -- your breasts, your thighs too. Your shirt shifts and that's when you notice something's different -- there's paint striped everywhere across your body beneath your sleeping clothes.

Gold and smeary and shimmering, like you'd cuddled up to somebody painted with those pretty sigils the Nightbrothers use to invoke virility, prowess, and stamina in the hunt --

A memory flickers, there and gone like a moth against a candle and back to the darkness.

You swallow, the soreness registering as something not so awful because maybe there's a reason your clit feels so tender. Like someone lavished it with affection, leaving your cunt warm and wet, eased open for whatever came next.

Your body throbs with the disconnect, and like a ghost, you can map the places where someone touched and squeezed, offering pleasure in exchange for your memories of the event, because while you remember a body to whom you enthusiastically consented, his face is a blank in your memory.

A glance at the bedside mirror reveals finger streaks across your throat to your chest, and following the mark, you remember the weight of that hand undoing the straps of your dress. Fabric pooling around your feet in one of the caves where the brazier light made oil-slicked muscles shimmer. Gold and ochre. Gold eyes in a masked face.

Parting your legs, there's a little shimmer on your inner thighs too. A peek down your shirt reveals gold smudges on your breast and belly, and something flickers on the periphery of your awareness, rising like a vision from the depths:

Teeth against your neck. A heavy cock between your legs. And you, breathless and desperate, clawing marks up a Nightbrother's back as he braced you with gold-painted hips, the rough praises offered in whispers as he slipped you down each of his three ridges like something sacred --

No names. No faces.

Read the rest on Ao3 >

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imaginaryhl · 3 months

Text

I need a plus 1

Harry(w2s) x OC

WC: 2K

Warning: cursing

Summery: Alex is going to an event and Harry is out of town, and she's being hit on while she's at the bar.

Circa 2021

SIDEMEN Group chat

A: Who's free on the 7th

T: Not me

Why

E: I have a thing for gymshark

V: I'm visiting my family

A: I have an event and I don't want to go alone 😩

S: I'm out of town

J: me too, Freya and I are going on a weekend trip

T: Is Harry busy that day

A: Yes, he has a family thing

I don't want to go alone

V: then don't go

A: Have to

Its for a sponsor

JJ: what kind of event?

S: you're free but you want to know what kind of event it is before you say yes

A: Its a fashion show with an after party

E: Harry's lacking 🤨

JJ: maybe…

H: 🖕🖕

I tried to cancel on my family but I couldn't

My mum would've killed me

A: True true

I was on the same call

Almost killed me for missing out

JJ: well I'm in 🤷‍♂️

how much will you give me?

A: Fuck you JJ

I'm going solo

V: lol

I'm screenshoting this and posting it on Twitter

Alex's stans will have your ass JJ

S: YES! Another war between the ur fans

JJ: come on now you know I was joking

A: I don't know, do I?

🤨🤨

JJ: fine

I'm sorry Alex can I come with you please 🙏🏼

A: Oh my god Of course you can JJ I can't belive THE ksi is coming with me 😊

T: you lot are crazy

And thats how JJ ended up being Alex's plus one at the fashion show. Alex dreamed of having a fashion show for her brand one day, to have a runway with models wearing her clothes and everything. She's had launch parties before for her drops but nothing to this scale.

Her and JJ were dressed to the nines, they walked the small red carpet at the event. Posing together and separately. JJ had his arm around her back as he took the role of leading Alex around, always protective of her plus Alex doesn't always do well in big crowds.

The duo had front row seats, they sat next to each other, chatted together and to those next to them, with someone always snapping pictures and videos of the popular YouTubers. Photos were already circulating online, Harry would pop into his Twitter account every now and then to see how they're doing.

“This is weird.” JJ whispered to Alex.

“Yeah, it can be overwhelming sometimes.” Alex said and looked around the room with a smile. “Maybe one day it'll be my show.”

“Its a when, not maybe or if or any of that.” JJ said and squeezed her for a moment, a smile on both their faces.

After everyone was settled the show began, Alex was so focused on the show and models it amused JJ. He took a video of her and you could see her frown a little in focus, but she noticed him and subtlety flipped him off and that had him stifling his laughter.

Over all they had fun and went on to the after party, JJ wasn't drinking due to his training, and Alex doesn't drink that much when she's around a lot of people she doesn't know.

In the mix of people the friends split as they were mingling with people some they knew and far more they didn't know, making connections and networking (forever working). Alex found herself by the bar ordering a cocktail, she was between conversations and her throat was dry from all the talking and laughing, she was looking around as she waited for the bartender to get her order.

“You looking for your boyfriend?” A voice saved, she looked to her left and saw a man she doesn't know, by his accent she knew instantly that he's American.

“My boyfriend?” She was confused by his question, knowing that Harry wasn't in London at all.

“The dude you came with.” He nods to a general direction she presumes JJ is, she laughs lightly, it's been a long while since someone mistaken one of the boys as her boyfriend(there's always speculations online and the odd old person they meet while filming).

“No, JJ's my best friend.” She told him and looked at the bartender, he was finishing some other drinks. One thing about this event: they had far too little staff for the number of people attending.

“Oh, lucky me.” He smirked in what he presumed a sexy move but for Alex was a bit cringe.

“Lucky no one, I hate to say this but I presume you don't know who I am-”

“No, I heard from someone your name’s Alex and you have one of the biggest YouTube channels in the UK.”

Mystery man said, sounding proud of himself, Alex took a deep breath and sighed slowly.

“Ok-ay, you look like a nice lad and everything-”

“Wait don't finish, I was going to ask you anyways, my names Jason, and of course you can have my number-”

“What! No-”

“Better yet we can follow each other on Instagram-”

“Jaso-”

“I'm staying here for a week-”

“Mate shut u-”

“How about we go out for a date?”

“If you'd let her finish, you'd know that she's not interested.” JJ said coming up from behind her protectively, he stood beside her with his shoulder coming up in front of Alex, blocking her a little.

“What? I'm sorry we were having fun, and I think she was about to agree to go on a date with me.” That bastard wouldn't back down or take a hint it seemed even if it was written right in front of him.

“Oh believe me she was about to say no, and you better hope no one noticed or took photos of you annoying her because if that happened, not my fans, not her fans but her boyfriends fans would have your head. And there's a lot of them.” JJ told him sternly, the guy scoffed, took Alex's drink that was just placed down, drowned it and scattered away with his tail between his legs. “Can't leave you for five seconds.”

“What did I do? He was an asshole who wouldn't shut up.” Alex huffed and rolled her eyes.

“I was serious though, about the Harry's fans thing.” JJ said and they both started walking around, doing a final round around the room before they'll leave.

“Its not the fans I'm worried about.” Alex muttered knowing how Harry can get jealous sometimes, he'll kick himself for not coming. He doesn't like these kinds of events anyway, usually Alex goes with one of her friends. Females more than males but this time no one was free to come, but he hates when people hit on her and rightfully so.

***

No one took a picture of what happened, but a video made its way online. You can't hear what's being said but Alex's face says it all, she looks uncomfortable and you can see him cutting her off and how frustrated the female got, she was slightly leaning back as well. Theories were made online, body language experts dissected the short video to bits and Harry's fanbase were pissed. They may have hated Alex when they found out they were dating, but it's been proven that she makes Harry happy and that she's the one for him and thus they became protective of her. Their fan bases are basically one.

Once Harry saw the video on Twitter, he's been tagged over and over again, he called Alex and when she didn't pick up he called JJ.

“It's for you.” JJ said handing Alex the phone, she picks up after seeing her boyfriend's name on the screen.

“Hi.”

“Hey, Lexy.” Harry greeted. “Did you guys leave?”

“Yeah, we're going back to ours, JJ and I will have dinner there.” She informed him, JJ was looking at her expectedly, and he knew why Harry was calling.

“That's fine, that's fine… and are you okay?”

“yeah, I'm fine, we had fun today.” Alex looks at JJ and raises an eyebrow.

“Until someone hit on you I presume.”

“Until someone hit on me and couldn't take a hint.” JJ suppressed a laugh, he was proven right, he couldn't blame Harry, he would've done the same thing. “But don't worry, JJ helped me handle it.”

“Yeah, I saw in the video… I wish I was with you.” Harry's voice lowered a bit.

“It's fine Harry, I mean I would've loved if you'd come but its not your thing and that's fine, we've talked about it before.” Alex tries to comfort her boyfriend.

“I know, I know, I just don't like when someone tries to flirt with you.”

“I get you completely… Look, let's talk about it later okay?”

“Yeah, sure, I'll call you before I go to bed.”

“Okay, love you Harry.”

“Love you too, Lexy.”

“Bye.”

“He took it better than I expected.” JJ said taking his phone back, they were closing in on Alex and Harry's place.

“Believe me he's pissed, he's just too far to do anything.”

***

Alex was right. Sort of…

Harry was pissed, he didn't like what happened one bit. And yes he was too far, but with his brother and sister edging him on he did something from his place in Guernsey. He took to his Instagram that he doesn't really post on anymore.

He posted unseen photos of him and Alex in lovey dovey poses and some sexy ones as well, the internet went crazy with this, it was taken as a direct response to what happened that night. And jealous Harry made everyone so happy, the fans LOVED it.

The Sidemen chat was on fire.

E: oh my god bogg!!!

V: wtf have i just seen 😳

T: you lot need jesus 🙏 🙌

JJ: *VN of him laughing hysterically*

J: no one piss Harry off again

S: no

its don't come near Alex again

V: tbh I think fans will try to get him jealous to see more pics like that

E:I need to wash my eyes with holy water

T: why are they not responding

A: Harry's on his way back

And I'm currently hiding in a hole

J: u didn't know he'll post those

A: Fuck no i didn't

Best believe I was surprised when I got a notification from Instagram that he posted smth

JJ: this makes it so much better 😂😂

A: My family is coming for a visit next week 😭😭

S: you're dead

E: no he's dead

Rip to Harry

J: rip

Will u take his shares of sidemen

A:No? I wish

His family I think

V: better get married before he dies then

T: mate have you met Harry 😂

A: You know we started dating when he was 20

its been 5+years since we started dating and my finger is without 💍

J:tell him to hurry up

JJ: that's what Freya has been saying

S: mate you're the last person to talk

A: Anyways pray for us My family group chat is blowing up

S: strategic move from his part to post and then disappear

E: bro knows whats waiting for him

🥲😭

Incoming call

*Harry ❤*

H: Hey

A: Hey

H: I'm 30 minutes from home

A: okay, food will be ready when you arrive

H: thanks

*silence*

H: I'm sorry I posted without telling you, but I couldn't help it, I was pissed off and then Rosie and Josh were egging me on and-and it j-just slipped.

A: Okay I'm ignoring the slipped part, because slipping didn't make you press Instagram and click the post button, choose multiple pictures before posting.

Anyways I'm not mad Harry, I wish you would've given me a heads up, told my family to not look, but I'm 100% not mad.

H: thank god, I thought you'd be mad at me

A: If I was, I wouldn't make your favourite food.

H: you're an angel

A: say that after we see my family next week.

H: can't we cancel

A: no can do, they're in London for a wedding, and they'll come over to our house… you can come late or something but you have to see them.

H: I'm scared to open your brothers texts

A: me too

H: open them together?

A: definitely

H: see you in abit love

A: see you my green boyfriend

H: come on n-CLICK

#sidemen #sidemen imagine #sidemen one shot #harry lewis x oc #harry lewis one shot #harry lewis imagine #harry le2is #w2s x oc #w2s imagine #w2s one shot #w2s #harry w2s #sidemen 8th member #8th member

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four-loose-screws · 4 months

Text

FE2 Novelization Translation - Cover and Book Intro Pages

If you would like to start from the beginning, read a missed part, etc., click here!

FE Game Script Translations - FE Novel Translations - Original FE Support Conversations

If you are interested in donating to support my work, please check out my Ko-fi here. Thank you!

———————————

New year, time for another new FE novelization translation!

2024's novel of focus is that of FE2, the original game Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia was a remake of. Enjoy reading this take on the same exact plot, ~25 years prior!

Cover

Fire Emblem Gaiden

The Zofian Liberation War

Book 1

STORY

The continent of Valentia is divided between the north and the south, as well as their beliefs in War Father Duma and Earth Mother Mila. While the Kingdom of Zofia is ruled with kindness and compassion, the Rigelian Empire believes in raising its citizens to be prepared for war. Their hostility towards each other has finally pulled them into a vicious war. Units from both sides spill each other’s blood, fighting for their god and loyalty to their homeland each and every day, with no end in sight…

The protagonists of this tale are Alm, Celica, and countless other young units. They all wish for Valentia to be unified, but differ in how they want that outcome to be reached. And so, a grand tale of love and hate is about to unfold!

Written by Katsuyuki Ozaki

Cover Illustration by Ichiro ?*

Cover Design by Kazuo Hiroi (WIDE)**

*T/N: I cannot find the Kanji character in this person’s last name anywhere to confirm its reading.

**T/N: First name could also be ‘Ichio’ or ‘Itsuo.’ I cannot find any record of this person online, so I cannot confirm the correct reading of their name. Their nickname is ‘WIDE’ because their last name, ‘hiroi,’ is the Japanese word for wide.

Published by Futabasha

Author’s Profile

Katsuyuki Ozaki

An up-and-coming author also working as a copywriter. His major works include “Valkyrie no Densetsu,” “F-Zero,” “Zelda II: The Adventure of Link,” and many more, all published by Futabasha. He has also written for other strategy guide series. His hobbies include golf, cars, and computer games. He is of course also passionate about Fire Emblem, and has completed all of the games so far. He poured all of his love for the series into writing these two books without rest!

Front:

Alm and Celica each set out on their own journey to forge!

This is the epic adventure of this young man and woman!!

The stage unfolds on a Valentia in chaos in this epic tale of love, blood, and war!

Back:

Ad for Book 2.

Ad for a Shin Megami Tensei novelization.

Color Art

A necrodragon was here. In Zofia. When she realized exactly what that meant, Celica was petrified in horror. Earth Mother Mila had lost all power over Zofia.

Title Page

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1: The Deliverance

The Six Resurrection Pills

Alm’s Awakening

The Mysterious Girl Silque

Chapter 2: Mila’s Restoration Army

Celica Embarks on Her Journey

The Ruffian Saber

The Necrodragon’s Trial

Chapter 3: To Zofia Castle

Rescuing Clair

The Night Before Storming Zofia Castle

Cliff’s Gambit

Chapter 4: The Red Haired Woman

The Port Town Tavern

Differing Paths

Chapter 5: To Mila’s Shrine

The Sisters from Archanea

Blake, Wielder of the Shadow Sword

Royal Bloodline

Desert Army

Princess Anthiese

Chapter 6: The Newly Reborn Kingdom of Zofia

His name is Zeke

Cross-Shaped Birthmark

Collapse and Liberation

The Throne Bathed in Light

Epilogue

Illustrations: Ichiro ?* & Kazuo Hiroi (WIDE)**

*T/N: I cannot find the Kanji character in this person’s last name anywhere to confirm its reading.

Book design: Yusuke Matsuoka (NEXT)

Editing & printing: Rekkasha

Character Introductions

Alm’s Army

Robin: A Villager who grew up with Alm in Ram Village. He later transcends to become an Archer.

Silque / Shilk: A Cleric in service to the goddess Mila. She specializes in healing magic.

Cliff / Klihs: A Villager from Ram Village. He later transcends to become a Mage, specializing in long range combat magic.

Delthea: A female Mage who has fallen into Rigel’s hands by Tatarrah’s magic. She wields the Aura tome.

Luthier: He decides to join forces with Alm to lead his younger sister Delthea’s fate down a righteous path. A mage with a tragic past.

Mycen: A former unit of the Knights of Zofia, transcended to one of the highest level classes, Gold Knight.

Python: An Archer prodigy whose short-temper is as great as his skills with a bow.

Clair: A Pegasus Knight who was granted the ability to fly a pegasus by the two gods. Clive’s younger sister.

Forsyth: A soldier who’s greatest skill is his ability to calmly make decisions in the heat of battle.

Mathilda: An exceptionally talented female Cavalier. She possesses both a brave soul and bewitching beauty.

Tatiana: A Saint captured by Nuibaba. Zeke’s beloved.

Clive: A Cavalier and the leader of the young surviving units of the Knights of Zofia.

Zeke: A mysterious Gold Knight who has lost his memory. He serves Alm under Emperor Rudolf’s orders.

Lukas: A hot-blooded soldier who wields his lance like lightning.

Alm: A fighter raised by Zofia’s hero Mycen, and the protagonist of this story. He is a boy with a grand fate!

Gray: A Villager from Ram Village. He later transcends into a Cavalier.

#fire emblem #fe #fire emblem 2 #fe2 #gaiden #fe gaiden #fire emblem gaiden #fe15 #fire emblem 15 #shadows of valentia #fire emblem echoes #alm #celica #japan #japanese #translation #novel #light novel #fe2 novelization translation

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fromkenari · 8 months

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Waterloo Letters #4 (4/4): Hometown stuff

Re: Hometown stuff A [email protected] 9/4/20 8:31 PM to Henry H, Fuck. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what else to say. I’m so sorry. June and Nora send their love. Not as much love as me. Obviously. Please don’t worry about me. We’ll figure it out. It just might take time. I’ve been working on patience. I’ve picked up all kinds of things from you. God, what can I possibly write to make this better? Here: I can’t decide if your emails make me miss you more or less. Sometimes I feel like a funny-looking rock in the middle of the most beautiful clear ocean when I read the kinds of things you write to me. You love so much bigger than yourself, bigger than everything. I can’t believe how lucky I am to even witness it—to be the one who gets to have it, and so much of it, is beyond luck and feels like fate. Catholic God made me to be the person you write those things about. I’ll say five Hail Marys. Muchas gracias, Santa Maria. I can’t match you for prose, but what I can do is write you a list. AN INCOMPLETE LIST: THINGS I LOVE ABOUT HRH PRINCE HENRY OF WALES 1. The sound of your laugh when I piss you off. 2. The way you smell underneath your fancy cologne, like clean linens but somehow also fresh grass (what kind of magic is this?). 3. That thing you do where you stick out your chin to try to look tough. 4. How your hands look when you play piano. 5. All the things I understand about myself now because of you. 6. How you think Return of the Jedi is the best Star Wars (wrong) because deep down you’re a gigantic, sappy, embarrassing romantic who just wants the happily ever after. 7. Your ability to recite Keats. 8. Your ability to recite Bernadette’s “Don’t let it drag you down” monologue from Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. 9. How hard you try. 10. How hard you’ve always tried. 11. How determined you are to keep trying. 12. That when your shoulders cover mine, nothing else in the entire stupid world matters. 13. The goddamn issue of Le Monde you brought back to London with you and kept and have on your nightstand (yes, I saw it). 14. The way you look when you first wake up. 15. Your shoulder-to-waist ratio. 16. Your huge, generous, ridiculous, indestructible heart. 17. Your equally huge dick. 18. The face you just made when you read that last one. 19. The way you look when you first wake up (I know I already said this, but I really, really love it). 20. The fact that you loved me all along. I keep thinking about that last one ever since you told me, and what an idiot I was. It’s so hard for me to get out of my own head sometimes, but now I’m coming back to what I said to you the night in my room when it all started, and how I brushed you off when you offered to let me go after the DNC, how I used to try to act like it was nothing sometimes. I didn’t even know what you were offering to do to yourself. God, I want to fight everyone who’s ever hurt you, but it was me too, wasn’t it? All that time. I’m so sorry. Please stay gorgeous and strong and unbelievable. I miss you I miss you I miss you I love you. I’m calling you as soon as I send this, but I know you like to have these things written down. A P.S. Richard Wagner to Eliza Wille, re: Ludwig II–1864 (Remember when you played Wagner for me? He’s an asshole, but this is something.) It is true that I have my young king who genuinely adores me. You cannot form an idea of our relations. I recall one of the dreams of my youth. I once dreamed that Shakespeare was alive: that I really saw and spoke to him: I can never forget the impression that dream made on me. Then I would have wished to see Beethoven, though he was already dead. Something of the same kind must pass in the mind of this lovable man when with me. He says he can hardly believe that he really possesses me. None can read without astonishment, without enchantment, the letters he writes to me.

McQuiston, Casey. Red, White & Royal Blue: A Novel (pp. 301-304). St. Martin's Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

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#waterloo letters #hometown stuff #firstprince #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #red white and royal blue #casey mcquiston #out of credits

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wangxianficfinder · 2 years

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"Beautiful Writing and Good Plot" Compilation Part 1

We got a request at some point for stories with "beautiful writing and good plot" and I missed it back then, but here's my compilation, just from going through my bookmarks and looking for key words like *beautifully written, *lyrical, *epic, etc. So, in absolutely no particular order, please enjoy! [And feel free to list your own, and we'll do a Part 2 Compilation for all of yours as well!] ~ mojo

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take me back to a time by DizziDreams (T, 144k, wangxian, my bookmark, PODFIC) - lwj time travels to modern wwx

❤️Dignity and Animality by Anielka (G, 37k, wangxian, my post) - wwx is reincarnated as a rabbit for the 13-year interval: watership down fusion... not necessary to be familiar with watership down

hills and rivers by LtLJ (T, 70k, wangxian, 4 works, my post) - post canon wwx settling into his new life with appropriate drama and angst

help is on the way by Vamillepudding (M, 15k, wangxian, my post) - dreamy, shadowy fairy tale feel about lwj crumbling/recovery in wake of yiling patriarch's dramatic demise... happy ending!

wide enough and wild by impossibletruths (E, 64k, wangxian, my post) - Noping Out Of Society With Your Boyfriend And Your 50 Wen Refugees: The Novel

❤️We'd roll and fall in green by x_los (E, 27k, wangxian, WIP, my post, 2 works, series in progress) - in which canon wwx was always a girl

Vagabond by xantissa (E, 65k, wangxian, my post) - post canon case fic

❤️The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou (E, 66k, wangxian, my post) - seriously injured wwx after Qiongqi Path canon divergence: lwj caretakes

❤️A Burning Cold by MountainRose (G, 29k, child wei wuxian, my bookmark) - child wwx barely survives homelessness, is chronically ill, and all of canon is slightly different

❤️Dream a little dream of me by Moominmammashandbag (M, 60k, wangxian, my bookmark) - fix it where wwx never dies, he was imprisoned by the Jin and now is rescued

other earths and skies by binghecarer (T, 54k, wangxian, my bookmark) - East of the Sun, West of the Moon fairy tale au

mercy, tear it down. by orange_crushed (E, 33k, wangxian, my post) - wangxian find peace during Sunshot with dom/sub

and his wanting grows teeth by yukla (T, 25k, wangxian, my post) - au where wwx grows up outside the cultivation world but lwj finds him anyway, casefic

the red dark shifting by typefortydeductions (E, 16k, wangxian, my post) - Star Trek, Tarsus IV au

Imperfect Memory by xantissa (E, 62k, wangxian, my post) - war prize lwj au

❤️爱不释手; never let me go by yiqie (E, 69k, wangxian, my post) - post canon case fic

two guys r in love thats literally it by victortor (M, 11k, wangxian, my post) - time travel fix it

seldom all they seem by Fahye (E, 25k, wangxian, my post) - in which wangxian have been betrothed since childhood

come morning light by wolframvonbielefeld (maknaeline) (E, 17k, wangxian, my post) - canon and post-canon, grief, character studies and healing

bring you home by Alasse_Irena (T, 28k, wangxian, my post) - modern au with grief and ptsd and healing

in your skin by darkredloveknot (enheduane) E, 10k, wangxian, my post) - post canon case fic with a little body horror

Grave of a Living God by Gotcocomilk (T, 35k, wangxian, my post) - wwx time travels... but ends up in wen ruohan's clutches

From my heart's ground. by orange_crushed (E, 38k, wangxian, my bookmark) - lwj learns a new cultivation in the 13 years interval

set your old heart free by words-writ-in-starlight (Gunmetal_Crown) (E, 42k, wangxian, my post, 6 works) - canon and post-canon feels and catharsis

❤️As It Should Be by kuro (M, 37k, wangxian, my post) - arranged marriage angst

❤️Ribbons and Heartsongs by jeyhawk (E, 37k, wangxian, my post) - kind of a mesh between space/fantasy/urban fantasy AU

Concerning Rabbits by manta (G, 28k, wangxian, my post) - grief and healing, bunnies and friendships

between the shadow and the soul by cl410 (M, 22k, wangxian, jiang siblings, my post) - post burial mounds wwx is feral and needs help, dreamy fairy tale feel

A Lot of Edges Called Perhaps by hansbekhart (E, 22k, wangxian, my post) post canon getting together

Lost and Found by dea_liberty (M, 36k, wangxian, my post) - post canon healing, but maybe not *plotty*

Yúyīn 餘音 by riotintheheartt (E, 18k, wangxian, my post) - au with god lan wangji and amputee wwx hiding/living in his temple

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Under 10k (so maybe slightly less plotty)

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After by tellthemstories (G, 5k, lan sizhui & lan wangji, my post) - parent-child relationship, grief and healing, 13 years

tonight i can write the saddest lines by sarahyyy (G, 4k, wangxian, my post) - amnesiac lwj learns to love wwx all over again, post canon

the field meets the wood by astronicht (T, 8k, wangxian, my bookmark) - horror with serving of yiling patriarch retribution

you, whose heart would sing of anarchy by doodlebutt (T, 9k, zhuiyi, my bookmark) - #sizhui has full custody of the brain cell; and #rule breaking as a love language

how to tame a dragon by lanwineji (E, 6k, chengyi, my post) - Spirited Away au where lan jingyi trips into another world and discovers jiang cheng

The Feathers in the Thread by deliciousblizzardshark (M, 4k, wangxian, my bookmark) - The Crane Wife fairy tale au

Buried in the Sky, Hallowed by thy Depths by themunchking (T, 9k, wangxian, my post) - in which the Twin Jades are sirens

the sleeper's gift by iliacquer (T, 6k, wangxian, my post) - fairy tale au inspired by Maleficent

the shadow of a name in skin by iliacquer (E, 9k, wangxian, my post) - amnesiac yiling patriarch, fairy tale feel

❤️tie a knife with a ribbon by iliacquer (E, 5k, wangxian, my post) - war prize lwj au, there is some plot with the pwp

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(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for these hard-working authors if you like – or think others might like – these stories.)

#wangxian fic rec #wangxian #mdzs #the untamed #epic wangxian stories #beautiful writing and good plot #wangxianficfinder compilation post #beautiful writing and good plot compilation #epic mdzs stories #long post

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