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cozycottagetarot · 3 months

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The Next Chapter Of Your Life

How To Pick A Pile:

Everyone has their own technique for choosing a 'pile'. My recommendation is to clear your mind and focus on each image for a few seconds. The image you find yourself coming back to even when you focus on the other images is the pile for you.

Quick notes on this reading:

It's a long one -- This reading is a lot longer (I think) than what I typically post. I'd appreciate any feedback on the length since it's something I'm experimenting with. The pile titles are colour-coded -- Hopefully, it helps make scrolling to the next section quicker.

Each pile references multiple scenarios -- some scenarios came through stronger than others, but I did my best to write what I was getting to be applied to situations not mentioned.

‼️ THIS READING IS MEANT FOR SELF-REFLECTION AND ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY -- While this reading does contain a bit of advice and reflective questions, IT'S IN NO WAY SHAPE OR FORM MEANT TO REPLACE PROFESSIONAL ADVICE OF ANY KIND. Please use your discretion, think carefully before you act and only take what resonates be it a little, some or none at all. (The usual disclaimer is at the bottom).

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PILE 1 (Scrapbook)

Who are you? Cards: The Poet, The Founder rev, The Queen of Roses

This pile may be the pile for you if any of the following resonates:

Wanting to connect or being very connected to your loving, nurturing and supportive side. You've been receiving messages or sensing that a new connection is on the horizon. Motherhood/parenthood or marriage. Seeking resolutions to a relationship. Leaving behind relationships that have been in your life forever. Giving too much to others. Ending toxic relationships. Finding or wanting freedom. Finding your voice. Finding you. Tapping into your creative side. A quest for happiness.

If none of these individual sentences resonate feel free to check out a different pile.

Who will you become throughout this next chapter? Cards: The Muse, The Gambler

You will begin to bloom. Maybe not fully, but you’ll be more open to taking the necessary steps (which may feel like risk) to flourish. The end result will be you tapping into your creativity and creator energy. But also putting in the work, and changing your approach. I pulled all the cards at once so being able to take in all the cards at once, it’s this sense of making you happen. Gone will be the sense of being who you think you should or are expected to be. You’ll be gaining a new sense of self that is brighter and more wild. The risk is non-existent. It’s more perceived. It seems like a risk to indulge in the aspects of yourself that may seem like they’re more whimsy, but by actually making those things happen, you will transform into someone who can inspire themself. You won’t have to look for inspiration elsewhere, you’ll have it there within you.

How will you find success? Cards: 3 of Keys (The Chess Game), The King rev

Through changing your tactic. This chapter won’t necessarily be easy. There will be conflict with those around or above you, especially if this relates to career or relationships, possibly even both. Detach from the situation and be objective. Waiting for your opening will be the key to your success. For some, it’s a situation where everyone is only looking out for themself and I’m picking up that it's creating a stalemate. With the king reversed, you know what’s best in the situation but someone with more authority than you or a level of seniority if this is a personal relationship thinks they know better but they don’t. It’s about being firm and holding your own as well as not letting your emotions, or the part of you that’s super connected to the situation, get the best of you and influence you to make rash decisions.

Challenges you may meet: Cards: The Astronomer, The Orator, Reflection rev.

I see the biggest challenge here for you being one of mastering yourself in this next chapter. There’s a battle between your emotions and your intuition. To navigate this you need to have a conversation with yourself and determine why you’re having such strong emotions. Where are these feelings stemming from? The astronomer card is here to remind you that whatever the situation is, it’s not really about the past-- it’s not going to help you navigate this chapter. Especially if you’ve been acting according to what’s expected of you when the current/upcoming situation(s) requires you to do what is true to you. I hope I'm not repeating myself too much here, but the challenge becomes exploring the why behind the emotions so you can better make decisions and listen to your intuition. BUT, keep in mind that it doesn’t mean not to listen to your emotions at all.

Another message here is that working with other people may also show up as a challenge. There's a reminder to listen to other people's perspectives but also know that choosing to hear someone’s POV doesn’t mean you have to absorb it as yours either.

Finally, even when it gets tough, don’t doubt yourself. Take your time. It may seem like you have to have it all figured out and know what to say and which decision to make, but not really. It’s easy to feel that way when it feels like everything is at stake, but again, if you feel that way, pause and ask yourself why? Once you have your why, you can take on the world.

Lessons To Be Learned: Cards: The Painter, 8 of keys (the master artisan)

This definitely feels like it relates to career or passion projects, but of course, just adjust to your individual situation. It may or may not mean anything, but your cards have lots of florals.

Your lessons in this next chapter of life relate to learning to connect with yourself, speaking up and putting yourself out there. Your energy is one that makes me feel like you have such an amazing talent you're hesitant to embrace. You have so much to learn and just as much to offer... this is the beginning of that journey. Don’t be shy. There are opportunities out there waiting, you just have to figure out the way to pursue them that is most authentic to you. Even if it’s simply an opportunity to give love and kindness. I know I focused a lot on career and creativty, but this goes for relationships too. There is a lot of heavy energy covering this beautiful light-hearted one that just wants to break free. If you are considering going into teaching or taking up a teaching opportunity (not necessarily even in a formal education system) or enrolling in a course of some kind, I feel like this is a nod to say go for it. Especially pottery or beadwork? Trade work as well, maybe even culinary school or food-related skills. (I could be projecting there on the culinary aspect though as that's what I did and the imagery on the card reminds me of it).

Advice to take with you in this next chapter: The hound and pear (loyalty) — This card is always a bittersweet card whenever I see it. The message here is one of loyalty and friendship. A new relationship (of any kind), one founded on friendship, is precious but also delicate. Don't make irrevocable decisions based on conclusions. It must be treated with care on both sides because it can be damaged easily.

The deer and oat (healing) — Rest and recharge. Moderation and mindfulness are also key for recovering from difficult or intense situations. Ask yourself, how you can rest and nurture yourself?

The snake and fern (starting over) — it’s time to finish breaking free from the past so you can become something new. So you can return to your true self. What has protected you and brought you to this point? Are you in a position to release it? Are there any parts of your past self that you can regrow from (like snipping off part of a plant that may be unhealthy and leaving the rest so it can re-catch itself, not sure why I picked that analogy) or must you grow anew? (Planting a new seed, from the old plant. The essence is still there but a completely new plant will grow)

If you made it this far I appreciate it. Feedback is welcomed and if there's a topic you'd like me to cover in a pac, feel free to let me know!

Pile 2 (Compass)

If you’re drawn to pile 1 feel free to check that out as well.

Who are you? Cards: The Oracle of Delphi, the Sentinel, the Forgotten

This pile may be the pile for you if any of the following resonates:

Intuitive. Connected to a higher power. Diety work. Past lives. Psychic powers. Perseverance. Fighting back. Confidence threatening to become arrogance. Dominance dancing on the lines of domineering. A force to be reckoned with. Someone who's sometimes brash. Amor fati (love of fate). An academic. Dreamlight Valley. Self-esteem issues (past or present). Someone who was looked past and from it learned not to try. Fear. Anxiety. A lost soul stumbling in the dark. Chaos. Morally grey. *You may be an avid reader or enjoy fantasy media as well.

My Overall Impression: You’re a force to be reckoned with and reckon you will. Your energy is just pure power and chaos. I low-key feel like you’re battling with life/the universe (call it what you prefer, that’s just how I prefer to call it). There’s this energy of "Try me" and the universe is like "I got one for you, watch and see". But there’s no malice. I just get fed-up vibes from you and the response from life is like "Okay 👀, but chill." Enemies to lovers with life itself.

Who will you become throughout this next chapter? Cards: The Ark of the Covenant, Beith — Birth, The Queen, The Assassin

The Queen and The Assassin flew out with such fury! You’re going to become someone worthy of wearing a crown. But it comes at a price, though it’s not one you can sit around and sulk about. The next chapter of your life reminds me of being forged in fire. Now you’re stepping into the role and identity of someone who can achieve your goals. It’s dark at times, but you’re gaining the skills to do what you want to do and I get the feeling this "thing" you're meant to do is one you may feel on a deep or soul level. (It is) fulfilling a higher calling or purpose. At the very least, you’re becoming someone who has decided that this is the last time they repeat a cycle.

You’re working towards something more and it feels like by the end of this chapter, you’ll be granted a brief reprieve. There’s still more work to be done though. You’re stepping into a new era where so much will grow from you. For some of you, a new romantic relationship is coming in and/or you're expanding your family-- that includes found family as well.

How will you find success?

Cards: 4 of Roses (views of the ego) the Witch. Rev

The first message that comes through is that your success lies in cutting someone off. Someone selfish and self-absorbed to be exact. It’s a relationship you’ve stayed in too long... they could have had some kind of hold over you, not necessarily in a controlling way, but they could have meant something on a deep level which could have been why you held on. You may have done a lot you’re not happy with because you’ve done it with this person in mind. Cutting ties with them grants you success as it allows you to focus on what’s truly important to you.

The other message with the witch reversed is the importance of remembering that while you’re forging your own path, it’s okay to look to others who have made it or 'gotten out'. Maybe they haven’t gone through the exact same thing, but it doesn’t mean there isn’t wisdom in the stories of others who’ve forged through and paved their own way as well. Pile one was about breaking away from the expected, but you’re being called to review what is expected and see if there’s anything worth considering. Kind of like shopping around for inspiration? You might come across someone else's story and it might spark an idea within you on how to navigate your own.

Challenges you may meet-- Cards: The Tailor Rev, The Scribe

Your challenges in this next chapter involve trying not to force your will upon the flow of your life and refining your focus. I know, I said forged in fire. There’s an imbalance of sorts... instead of firing and hoping you hit the target (your goal), you need to pause and take a good look at what’s working vs what isn’t. The 'wheel of life' worksheet/exercise comes to mind but I personally hate that exercise so much. I bring it up because it allows you to get a visual of what areas of your life you've been focusing on vs neglecting and pinpoint which areas of your life you’re lacking in. From there you can further assess and gain a better grasp on what you should be focusing on. After all, you can do anything, but you can’t do everything.

With the scribe, you may need to study or fine-tune your skills regarding a specific matter more. Here, there's something you need to learn to influence your life in the way you want, but you have to take the time to figure out what it is that you need to learn. It doesn’t have to be formal learning either. It could be something such watch a YouTube video, reading a book or article, or even taking a free online course or masterclass. Nothing is too big or too small here, as long as it's helping you to develop to get from point A to B.

Lessons To Be Learned:

Cards: 8 or scrolls (path unknown), the diviner, the puppeteer

The 8 of scrolls here reminds you that you’ve been travelling on a path where you know the outcomes, but to get to where you want to be sometimes requires walking down paths that may mean you don’t know what’s going to happen until it happens. At the same time, that’s how opportunities we didn’t know we needed arise. In the card imagery, there’s a basket next to the girl filled with scrolls, the same type of scrolls pictured in the scribe card. I think for you it’s learning the skill or information I mentioned that is going to help you feel more confident and assured on this path you’re following. You’ve got the energy of the queen archetype (regardless of gender), and though it may be a challenge, you’ve equipped yourself with the skills necessary to go after what you want. You’ll have what it takes 100% to move on to the next phase (after this one we're talking about).

The Diviner is about divine timing and evaluation. Here you’ve done all that you can with what is in your control. What’s left now is waiting for your desires outcomes to come to fruition. While you can’t rush or force things, you can make sure you set yourself up for success when you get it. So let's say you're waiting on receiving a sum of money, in the meantime you can learn/brush up on the skills to manage money etc.

Finally with the puppeteer, mending relationships could also be a lesson. Although I think it’s more about learning to interact with others better? But also remembering that sometimes apologies can mend relationships and other times they can’t. Going back to that relationship mentioned way before, it could be a matter of "are you willing to forgive the other person if they were to apologise and see the error of their ways?" (Though with the type of person mentioned that may be unlikely but, who knows).

Another possibility with the assassin card is that you may ruffle feathers at some point, so you may learn the power or limits of an apology in that sense as well.

Advice to take with you in this next chapter:

The Finch and Peach (romance) — romance is on its way to you. Things to ponder on could be: do you feel ready to welcome love into your life? What are some things that make you feel loved/how do you like to receive love?

The Marten and Foxglove (mischief) — this card asks you to stay open to opportunities that allow you to tap into your playful side, be spontaneous or travel. Ask yourself how can you make room for spontaneity? (It could be through trying new foods, reading a different genre, visiting a place you wouldn’t typically visit, changing up your daily routine etc). Also are you at a point where you can open yourself to new adventures, big or small?

The Boar and Pumpkin (confidence) — You’re not wrong to be confident in yourself, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Take a moment to acknowledge your accomplishments and think about what you’ve done that you’re proud of (doesn’t always have to be tangible, it can also be mindsets, situations you’ve walked from etc).

The Snake and Fern (starting over) — Again, if you were drawn to pile one, I suggest you check that out. Here this card nods to beginning a new and asks you to see if there are any parts of yourself you can return to, or if it’s time to completely start anew and discover yourself from scratch.

If you made it this far I appreciate it. Feedback is welcomed and if there's a topic you'd like me to cover in a pac, feel free to let me know!

Pile 3 (The Trunks/Suitcase)

Who are you? Cards: The Smith, The Twins, The Lookout, The Askashic Library, 3 of Forces (Bird’s Nest)

This pile may be the pile for you if any of the following resonates:

The overthinker. Having a twin or prominent Gemini placements. If you're considering something you’ve been wanting to do for a while but keep putting off. A relationship with someone in which you both started on the same path but they went in another direction. Holding onto resentment. Feel like everything is up in flames. Writing. Seeking self-awareness. Manifesting. Intuitive. *Read that book you’ve been meaning to read. Needing a backup plan. Expanding. Hopeful prospects.

*If this doesn't feel like your pile, and you were eyeing pile 4, definitely check it out. This pile was actually the last I pulled and the hardest to read for and it felt like many aspects of it related to other piles as well. I recommend checking out a secondary pile in general if you were drawn to one.

Who will you become throughout this next chapter? Cards: The Waker, The Runaway, The Warrior (Sorry, I forgot to write down some of the cards 🤦‍♀️, I believe it was 'Fated Meeting' and 'Queen of Scrolls')

You’re becoming someone who is becoming centred/aligned and more intuitive. Your internal world and external world are going to become more connected. Connected to your ‘higher self’ as well, it’s going to be you vs you (levelling up). You’re going to become someone who can face the things you’ve been running from head-on.

That thing you’ve been putting off, you’re going to be able to finally put into action. Coming into being filled with inspiration, clarity and direction. This is especially if you’re considering careers/education, or projects in the fields of writing, publishing, marketing, communication, counselling or teaching. If you’re seeking a mentor, this person could help guide you to becoming this way. It could also be someone in your life already that may help you who is in one of these fields.

For a select few of you, you’re becoming the version of you that was meant to meet your person. If it’s not a romantic partner, then you’re coming into contact with a soulmate (meant as someone you have a ‘soul bond’ with).

Where Will You Find Success? Cards: 4 of Keys (Clearing The Way), Reflection, The Cartographer rev, The Weaver

If you find yourself prone to many different avenues of ideas and project but never settling on one, you’re going to find your success through settling on one thing and focusing on it. It’s time for you stop buckle down and stick with one of those brilliant ideas of yours and make it happen.

Also while it may be time for you to focus on one thing professionally or creatively, when it comes to yourself, it’s time to embrace all the pieces of you that seem random. It reminds me of this post I saw a couple of days ago about how we don't have to force ourselves fit perfectly into an aesthetic... that it's okay to have and embrace parts of your personality that are completely left field of the other bits that go hand in hand. So for some of you, maybe it’s time to embrace all the pieces of you that don’t go together neatly. Maybe that’s why you have these ideas and start them and then ditch them, because you’re a multifaceted being and you’re not allowing yourself to be so and that is the way it manifests in your life? Maybe it’s time to learn how to let all the sides of you coexist without getting lost. Food for thought maybe?

Regardless, it’s time to remove distractions that are holding you back. Tap into your intuition. Become more aware of your emotions. There's a sense of self-mastery is needed here.

Challenges You May Meet? Cards: The Pathless, The Miser, 1 of Scrolls (On Track), Up In The Air, 6 of Forces (The Waterfall) rev

Your challenges kind of relate to the things that were mentioned already. Being in your head, overthinking things, being unable to settle, but also trying to avoid falling into a headspace where you’re being pessimistic and stubborn. Just because you stick to one thing doesn’t mean you can’t shift and adjust your approach. And if you find that you’re really stuck don’t be afraid to just take a step back. If this is all relating to something where other people are giving you their unsolicited advice, don’t be afraid to brush it off and say “Hey, I might have hit a block but trust that I know what I’m doing”. Another scenario is to not internalise any unsolicited advice or opinions because I feel like that could be a trigger for getting lost in your head for some of you.

For overthinking, it'll be about learning to accept that you won’t be able to know the exact outcome of certain things. If you’re working with someone else, then feeling like you are in control or that you have a say may be the challenge. For others, the challenge may simply be making the decision or committing. It could also be coming to terms with the fact that you waited so long to pursue this goal.

Lessons To Be Learned: Cards: The Brawler, The Forgotten, 2 of Roses (The Winged Messengers), Uriel and the Sphinx, the king of roses

With the Forgotten you’ll learn that you can’t be afraid of mistakes. Mistakes help you grow. You'll come to realise how much fear has been holding you back. There's also learning how to make something out of your anxiety. Learning not to run from conflict or maybe how to properly address it could also be another lesson. This could be regarding internal conflict or conflict with another person as I am getting multiple scenarios come up.

Again there's a message here that for some of a romantic suitor specifically coming in. Overall for everyone there’s an important relationship making its way into your life. The mentor shows up as a neutral energy throughout the reading (or balanced feminine and masculine). Their energy is thoughtful, nurturing/comforting and supportive.

Advice — The Goat and Willow (overdoing obstacle) — even though there are losses to suffer, you can overcome them with renewed energy and the right balance. When obstacles appear, prioritise realigning yourself with your goals. You can even get ahead of the game and brainstorm ways to handle potential obstacles before they arise. The Chipmunk and Laurel (success) — Your path to success will be a unique one, one you have to create on your own, but there will be adventures along the way. The Elk and Ash (strength) — Don’t be afraid to fight back when met with a challenge.

If you made it this far I appreciate it. Feedback is welcomed and if there's a topic you'd like me to cover in a pac, feel free to let me know!

Pile 4 (The plane around the world)

CW: Brief implication of strong language

Who are you? Cards: The storyteller, the mascareri, 1 of roses (commitment), 6 of roses (the war of roses)

This pile may be the pile for you if any of the following resonates:

Someone who struggles with the 'self'. You may hide your true self and struggle to accept others' true selves. For you, you could spend a lot of time crafting your persona. For some of you you maybe in positions where you delegate to others or are responsible for others' behaviour (managerial or boss positions). Some of you could work with kids or want to work with kids. Putting on a mask. Neurodivergence. You could enjoy writing or be a writer of some kind. The arts. Struggling with a partnership (romantic or business), trying to balance honouring yourself and their wishes? Conflicted about a relationship. Feeling like there's a battle between your head vs your heart.

Who will you become throughout this next chapter? Cards: 4 of Scrolls rev (The Karmic Trenches), The Patron rev, The poet You’re becoming someone with so much to offer and is still looking to grow. However, people may want to take advantage of that. Becoming someone who doesn’t hesitate and is in love with life. Embracing that life is imperfect. Becoming more vulnerable. Finding like-minded people. Embracing happiness. Tapping into your creative spirit. There could be an ending of some kind, though you didn’t want it, it brought a world full of new opportunities. You're finally breaking a pattern but also having the awareness to know when you’re tip-toeing along the lines of going back. Coming out of the dark. This sense of being healed on multiple levels and being able to finally experience joy.

Where will you find success? Cards: The Astronomer Rev, The Hound, 5 of forces (summer/winter), 7 of keys (The Ascent) You’re going to be finding success through setting long-term goals. If this is about a financial situation especially, then also finding a balance between focusing on what is necessary and not letting the 'wishlist' desires lead you astray. It can apply to any situation in general though. Focusing on what’s necessary and the things you would like to do coming afterwards.

There's also a matter of assessing where your loyalties or priorities lie and releasing habits, relationships, and ideas that are no longer serving you. Loyalty and staying true to your word might be something you value heavily and stand by, but I also see you finding success in this next chapter of your life by realising, you know what, sometimes you have to cut your ties, count any losses and move on because staying is only doing more harm than good. For some of you who have a relationship in mind or the relationship part resonated with you, this is especially true.

Taking action in general will bring success. This chapter could either close out or begin in the summer, or summer will mark an important time for you. With the 7 of keys, your success is guaranteed as long as you put in the work.

Challenges You May Meet: Cards: The Founder, The Shepard, 3 of Scrolls (Setting Your Course), Caught in The Ruins With The Founder, a challenge you might run into is needing to put yourself before someone else who is asking you for your help, although I'm also feeling it maybe asking you to put them first. You might struggle to determine whether or not you should offer them your help. The Shepard urges you to step up and take the lead when others need guidance. However, I think the best question to ask is what kind of person do you have to show up as in order to offer them your support? And also what type of person do you have to show up as to meet your goals? I’d say make a decision on how to proceed based on whether the two can successfully coincide or not.

A lot of different situations come up in this pile— relationships, career/finance, behaviours… but the common theme here seems to come down to mindset. Whatever the situation is that has you feeling trapped, you have to realise that it’s not definitive, even if it seems that way in your head. It seems like a lot of what is going on, and what you have to overcome, is self-sabotage and realising that just because you’ve always done something a certain way or a situation has always played out that way, doesn’t mean it will always be that way. You have the power to change; the challenge here simply lies in picking yourself up and dusting yourself off. There’s so much more out there for you than what you’re seeing right now. If relocating or travelling, especially where you have to cross the ocean, is something you’re hoping to do, then the end of this chapter we’re discussing in this reading might be the beginning of that next chapter in your life.

Lessons To Be Learned: Cards: 3 of Roses (Loving Elementals), 5 of Roses (The Garden)

The lessons here are about having a sense of child like wonder, and learning to find joy and exploration in life. Being able to laugh and play and find inspiration once more. If any of you have been thinking about starting a family (not necessarily right away) then it’s likely that this chapter will set you up for that. If not then I think a matter of legacy here. Being exposed to opportunities to nurture and grow the future you desire.

You’ll learn that sometimes you are the one who has to be the catalyst to change your life. I love this line from the guidebook of my Citadel Orcale cards regarding the catalyst. It says “ You are the bolt of lightning that topples the tower”. If you think about the Tower card in the traditional tarot deck, there’s lightning striking the tower and setting it on fire. Whenever it comes up it talks about upheaval and there’s often a sense of “oh great, something’s about to come **** up my life” but maybe [we] should consider that we’re not always the tower, but instead, we are the lightning. You have to make the decision to do or become something different, even if goes against what you've always known or what everyone tells you you should do.

What’s also important is not dwelling on past mistakes or regrets, it’s about learning from what happened and using it to make a better decision. Stop doubting yourself and overthink until your head hurts. Give yourself some grace and self-compassion. Take your time, changing isn’t going to happen overnight and often times we have to adjust to who we’re allowing ourselves to become.

Advice to take with you in this next chapter:

The Bee and Pomegranate (productivity) rev — If you find yourself struggling with procrastination, don’t be afraid to rest a while before giving whatever it is another go. Consider what makes you productive as well as what you can do to change why you’re not feeling productive towards another task.

The Racoon and Sycamore (curiosity) — The time is now to do some self-exploration. Explore new interests and hobbies as well as take time to think about how you’ve evolved and how you’d like to further evolve.

The Finch and Peach (romance) — Love is on its way to you. (I did kind of feel like it’s romantic love but it wasn't a prominent message in the reading.)

The Bear and Cedar (leadership) — You’re being guided towards leadership opportunities but remember to ‘rule’ with fairness and care. Ask yourself how can you be a better leader? Who can benefit from your knowledge and experience?

If you made it this far I appreciate it. Feedback is welcomed and if there's a topic you'd like me to cover in a pac, feel free to let me know!

*** Disclaimer: All readings and tarot/blog games are for fun and entertainment purposes only. It is in no way meant to act as or replace professional advice of any kind. You know yourself and what’s going on in your life best so I ask that you trust yourself above all else. Finally please take only what resonates from the reading which may be some of it, all of it, or none at all.

#pick a card #pick a pile #pick a card reading #pac reading #pick a picture #pac #pick a pile reading #tarot reading #cozycottagetarot

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missglaskin · 1 year

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Yan!Targaryen Men (Jacaerys, Maegor, Aemond, Aegon I, Baelon, Daemon, Viserys III, Aegon II, Rhaegar) with sister!Darling

Note-I hope this doesn’t get a rating like my other posts. Also, I don’t specify if the reader is adopted or not to be exclusive

There’s no greater love than one found at home

Tags: Pure filthy smut, unhealthy/toxic relationship, obsession/possessiveness, a kinda bloodplay, breeding kink/fantasy, fingering, oral (m&f receiving), pussy slapping/spanking, marks and cuts (sexual), co-dependency, skincare (don’t ask)

Jacaerys

Any lady would wish to have a brother like yours. So sweet and gentle. A brother who listens to every word of his sister. Always dancing with her at feasts. Giving her flowers just to make her smile. They find his protectiveness over you to be adorable. Not knowing it’s from a fear of losing you to another man.

Naturally, like everyone else, you were an admirer of many handsome bachelors. Whether it was a lord, a knight, or some blacksmith. Yet each turned you down. They made sure to be careful with their words, as you were a princess. And each time you ran into your brother’s arms in tears. Utterly unaware, he whispered threats into their ears.

The two of you shared a bed. Something your mother disapproved of. But no matter her attempts, the servants report finding you wrapped in each other’s arms. There was a reassurance it was merely innocent and harmless. The act under the sheets begs to differ from the way your brother is humping you from behind.

There was a sense of shame in Jace’s actions. But who else deserves to take your maidenhood other than him. Though he waited and waited. Still, the two of you found a way. Light shared and moans shared between-his hardened cock covered by loose fabric as you grind your pussy against it.

There’s also you two tangled in the sheets, messaging your tongue with his own. You clench tightly around his fingers that’s buried deep inside your core, pumping you relentlessly. All while his hips thrust into the grip you have on his cock. Groaning louder each time you squeeze at the head.

When it finally happens. Jace has become addicted to the warmth of your pussy. He was already addicted to the feeling of his fingers playing with your dripping folds. Already addicted to his tongue lapping up your pussy, drinking in your juice. This was nothing like he ever experienced, and if Jace could, he’ll die with his cock buried deep inside of you.

Learning Valryian was necessary. It is your mother’s tongue. The lesson, however, becomes difficult when Jace presses the head of his length against your entrance, slowly filling you up as you sit down on him. You and Jace try to recite what you know. Resisting the urge to roll his hips and your squirming doesn’t help, either. It all ends the same each time with Jace having enough, gripping your waist and moving your hips.

Jace sometimes dreams of seeing your belly swollen with his child. He can't imagine being with anyone else but you. He wants the perfect life, to be an adoring husband to a devoted wife surrounded by children who resemble you more. It will all come due in time.

Maegor

To you and everyone else, your brother let it be known of his desire. It is within his right to want you, to have you. What man would have a better claim for his sweet sister than her own brother. Even more who dares to refuse him, to refuse the dragon.

Your brother wanted to be the first of your everything. Your first love. Your first kiss. Your first fuck. From your mind, to your body, to your heart, to your soul. They were all his. Every inch of you belongs to him. He will give a fate worse than death to a man who dared to steal his ‘right’.

Maegor breeds you at every chance he gets. Filling your little cunt with his massive cock. Tears coat your eyes at how he pounds into you so mercilessly. Broken moans slip from your bruised lips, feeling his hot cum flood your insides. Numbness taking over your senses.

There’s no rest even in your sleep. Waking up to Maegor buried deep inside you. It happens so often that you merely lay there and have him do all the work. His cock squelching into your heat, moaning his name as the two of you inch closer and closer to an orgasm. Maegor loves the sight of your pussy as cum oozes out of it, pushing the tip right in front of your entrance to keep it all in-not wanting to waste a drop of his seed.

As much as he hates wasting his seed, he also loves the view of you on his knees, eagerly taking him. A hand on your head guiding you up and down on his cock. His sheer size makes you choke and gag every time. When it’s done as a form of punishment, you’re pulled until your nose nudges against his balls.

Obedience is expected from you. Not only is he older than you, he’s your king. Disobeying him will result in your ass feeling sore, a burning sensation from his assault. You’re to count each one, otherwise, he’ll start all over again. Your pussy is also swollen and drenched from his hand, slapping it when you move too much.

After making such a mess of you, he has you join him in the bath. The water so warm, it almost stings your skin. Sitting in Maegor's lap, your head resting on his shoulder as his hand traces your back. It’s an intimate moment filled with silence. Peace.

His wives mean nothing compared to you, and they were reminded of this every day. Any night he spends with one of them would be returned tenfold. A whisper in his ear is all it takes to get rid of each of them. A sweet sister is all he needs to love him, to satisfy him, to bear him heirs.

Aemond

You and Aemond standing side to side may have looked nowhere alike, but the two of you were attached to the hip as though you were twins. Even when each had different duties. Your brother being taught to wield a sword while you were taught to courtesy and dance.

Your brother believed the two of you were meant to wed one day. It was tradition with Aegon wed to Helaena, so it’s only fair for him to wed you as well. The two of you shared a bond like no other and who else understands, loves, and cares for his sweet sister as he does.

Aemond wants the best for you. It’s his duty as your brother. Demanding that you read, that you study philosophy and history. That you learn the language of your ancestors. Though you’re not to blame when finding those lessons to be boring, your brother is furious when you refuse to pay attention. Your stomach on his lap, ass sore from the strikes of his hand. It’s for your own good, he tells you.

When it comes to reciting what you know, your brother makes you lay over his lap. His hand on your cunt. Fingers caressing your folds when you get the answers right. Halting his movements when you forget or get the answers wrong. But in the end, he’ll give in to your begging, helping you reach your release.

Aemond likes to believe he’s giving. Cheeks messy with slick as his tongue laps up against your sensitive pussy from the many times you reached your release. Reaching it once more when his fingers thrust in and out of you all while his mouth sucks on your clit. But it’s never enough for Aemond, continuing to sloppily feast on your cunt until you can no longer take it.

Your brother wasn’t only obsessed with the taste of your tongue, but the feeling of it wrapped around his cock. There should be shame; Taking your maidenhood, but it’ll be bound to happen so why not indulge himself now. Besides, you tempted him like a seductress, latching onto him, yearning for the heat of his cock, and who is he to deny you.

There’s no greater feeling than this. The feeling of his cock sinking into you, filling you up so well, and stretching you with every thrust. Pushing his hips as deep as he can, wanting to drown himself in your cunt. Groaning when the blunt head of his cock grazes your cervix. Your nails dig into his back, and Aemond hisses when feeling lines of blood-forming. It arouses him even further.

Aemond was a man whose actions were said better than his words. But there are times where confessions are made. Bodies drenched in sweat, calming itself from the violet highs. And in the dawn of night, you hear the whispers, so faint. And you realize just how deep the love Aemond has for you. The madness in his eye showing its blazing intensity.

Aegon I

Your brother Aegon, as he did with Visenya, married you out of duty. His true love was Rhaenys. A sad truth you must accept. As the youngest sister, you looked up to your big brother, always following him around, eager to please him, to make him happy.

Aegon finds himself indulging in your eagerness. Allowing you to scrub his body in the bath or undress him late at night. His most preferred is when you’re helping him shave his beard. Seated on his lap with his hands on your waist, and Aegon can’t help but watch you be so focused and take great care to be careful.

Unlike your sisters, Aegon didn’t want you to fight. Even preferred it if you didn’t claim a dragon. Insisting your purpose was to wait for him when it was time to visit your chambers. And when he did, Aegon smelled like dragon and his eyes widened in lust at the sheer nightgown wore. In mere seconds, it was ripped to shreds.

His reason for visiting you late at night is before you was Visenya, and before Visenya was Rhaenys. The night is spent with you bent over, his hips ramming into yours. Hands gripping the sheets as his cock pumped in and out of your tight hole. And when it was all set and done, the two of you reaching your high. He always left, and you knew deep inside, it was right back to Rhaenys.

But soon Visenya notices Aegon’s presence lessens and more shocking when Rhaenys does. The chambers of your room are filled with everything your heart desires, from the rarest of books to every instrument and painted color imagined. The dresses becoming more and more lavished, all in the house of colors. What catches most attention is the valyrian steel necklace placed around your neck.

His jealousy was one of fire. Easily ignited and hard to put out. Pushed to the wall with Aegon lifting your dress up. A dark look on his face as he lines his cock to your entrance. Making you adjust to his size and brutal pace. He demands to not hold in your moans, to let every single person in the castle know who you belong to. The poor bastard that caused it is currently residing in Balerion's stomach.

In the throne room, where the halls are empty. Safe for the King and his sister-wife who’s on top of him, bouncing on his cock. Your hips gripped by Aegon, moving you up and down as he drives himself deeper into your aching cunt. Moans, groans, and skin slapping echo through the great halls. Some cuts occur, a few stings, but the pleasure helps in numbing them.

A true testament to your brother’s love was when the two of you were standing in a mirror. Both bare as you gazed at your reflection. Stunned when Aegon places the crown, the king’s crown on your head. It’s all yours, the kingdom, the throne, him; they all belong to you. His hand reaches down to your belly. It also belongs to them. What if it’s a girl, you ask him. It’s still theirs, he claims.

Baelon

Such a sweet and kind princess you were. Loved by the court and the common people alike. Your parent’s pride and joy, a sentiment your brother shared. Baelon’s fondness for his sister was well-known around the realm. If one needs to find Baelon, they must first find you, as your brother rarely left your side.

It doesn’t arouse any suspicions when your brother shoos any of your suitors away. Nor when his hands are on your lower back as you dance. Not when he kisses your cheeks at your name day. Neither when he rubs his thumb on your lower lip to wipe the frosting or cream. They all believe it’s just Baelon looking after his innocent and sweet sister.

Then again, there are no eyes under the table where your brother’s hand is buried between your legs. Your thighs squeeze the hand to restrict its movements, but all it does is make him dig his fingers even deeper into your core. Baelon has the nerve to have those same fingers in his mouth afterward, tasting your release all while his eyes are on yours.

With Baelon, most of your mornings are awakened by a sensation between your legs and a knot in your stomach. Opening your eyes to see your brother sucking the clit into his mouth. Pulling away with your arousal coating his lips as he teasingly greets you with a ‘good morning’.

Any time you are soaking yourself in warm water. It’s almost as if your brother has a sixth sense. Coincidently being there, and he doesn’t even bother asking. Sinking in the warm water and immediately pulling you onto his lap. And somehow it always ends with most of the water spilling out on the floor. You eagerly moving up and down on your brother’s length.

The dragon’s blood courses through Baelon’s veins and you’re reminded by his fire when he’s green with envy. Making such a mess out of you as he slams his cock into your hole, hand making contact with your ass cheek. Overstimulating you as he pumps a load after another. In your broken moans and whines, your brother makes you repeat that you belong to him over and over.

Sometimes you wonder if Baelon wants others to find you in these compromising positions. With how often he drags you out of feasts and tourneys. When the two of you return, you’re forced to lean on him as your knees are wobbly and your whole body feels sore. Not to mention the mixture of our arousal sliding down your thighs.

Baelon worships the ground you walk on. He might even worship you. You certainly taste like nectar on his tongue, a nectar created by the gods. You’re a perfect creature in his eyes. If Baelon could, he’ll gift you the whole world in his hands. But if you were ever to leave, Baelon will want to burn it all down and himself so he can see a glimpse of your face again.

Daemon

Viserys and Daemon loved their little sister. They took you wherever they went, their protectiveness and love clearly seen. But Viserys knew the bond between you and Daemon was nowhere near the one he had with either of you. It was evident even to the court.

You were his. A constant reminder that loomed over you. Everything belonged to him, everything. Your eyes, only for him to gaze at. Your lips, only for him to kiss. Your body, only for him to touch. Your heart, only for him to keep. Your cunt, only for him to breed.

No other man deserves this. Deserves you. You were made for him. Carved and sculpted by the gods as a gift. Any man or woman who takes what is rightfully his. He’ll behead them and fuck you right next to their corpses, or better yet, he’ll make them watch. Letting it be the last thing they see before meeting their timely demise.

Daemon takes joy in bullying you. Railing you from behind as your hands grip the window rails. Taunting you on how much of a slut you’re, taking his cock like your pussy was made for it. When he notices you biting your lips to hold your moans as those under will hear, he will spank your pussy every time you do so. He wants them to hear, to watch his sister being so drunk on his cock.

At tourneys, you’re in the front, thighs clenched together at the sight of your brother’s prowess. It doesn’t matter whether he comes victorious. Daemon makes it a ritual to fuck you after each tourney. When victorious, every time he crowns you as the queen of love and beauty, later in his chambers, having you ride him to your liking. But when he loses, your ass is left sore and bruised as Daemon ruthlessly pounds into your dripping hole, fucking you full of his cum.

In front of others, it is almost as if your brother’s arousal heightens. Teasing you under the table, his eyes never leaving your face just to watch how it twitches and how your lips are pressed in a thin line, doing everything to not break, not to fall apart from his fingers playing with your cunt.

No matter how many tongues are silenced or people sent away, it doesn’t stop the rumors that circulate around the castle. The servants claim to catch the two of you in intimate positions. Found in some hall with you between your brother’s legs. A messenger once walked on him thrusting hard and deep into you, still counting his pace the rogue prince simply asks who sent for it.

You can never deny your brother. For his violence, ruthlessness, and arrogance. There was the intense love and loyalty he had for you. One you will never find in another man. Daemon didn’t need to utter the three words. When he claims that he’ll burn cities to the ground, it’s not an empty promise. It was also his gentleness that was granted only to you.

Viserys III

There were only three-you, Viserys, and Daenerys. They were all you had-your father, mother, and big brother all gone. Your memories were still there, the good and the bad. And most of all you remembered your brother before he became the man he was. The sweet and devoted Viserys, now cruel and mad.

To Viserys you are his greatest strength as much as you are his greatest weakness. You are his to have, his to claim, his to fuck, his to hurt, his to love. A wine for him to drink and drink until he’s drunk under your sweet words and touches. Away from him in a day is a day to you, but to Viserys, it’s as if months have passed without your presence.

Your body belonged solely to him. The mere idea of anyone touching or gazing at it will send him into a frenzy of rage. It wasn’t the servants dressing you instead; it was your brother Viserys, styling you in the way he sees fit. Even bathing you, scrubbing your body as he joins you, expecting you to return the favor.

You weren’t ignorant of your brother’s lust. Noticing where his hands trailed when he’d undress you. How he pulls you to sit on his lap. And your brother’s meanness was seen in how he shoves his fingers in your mouth, watching with great entertainment as you gag and drool all over his fingers. Scolding you for the noises you make and how you’re moving your hips against him.

Viserys will marry you against Illyrio's advice. It was his destiny and duty. There’s no better suitor than his own sister and no better suitor for you than your own brother. Almost every day Viserys breeded you. It’s up to you and him to continue your bloodline, to bear him heirs when he claims the iron throne.

Viserys’ jealousy was a dangerous one. Receiving his known saying, do not wake the dragon. Even your sister Daenerys wasn’t safe from his jealousy. Viserys already resented her for killing your mother. He tells her it’s only he who deserves to touch you, to hold you. It’s one of the reasons he was so eager to marry her off to Khal Drogo. As it means having you all to himself.

Viserys is hardly slow and gentle in his thrusts, and how can he when feeling your insides wrap around his cock, clenching him so tightly. Feeling as if he’s losing his sanity at how drunk he’s on your pussy. With any other, he’d be embarrassed at how loud he is. But with you, his dear sweet sister, Viserys isn’t ashamed to cry out your name. Moaning how good you feel around him, demanding you call him your king.

Tell me you love me. Was something you often heard from your brother. When he heard them call him ‘the beggar king’. After he caused a tantrum because you were too ‘nice’ to another person. When he lays his head on your chest every night. It almost is a recital, where you tell him you do love him, cradling his face and kissing him to ease any of his doubt.

Aegon II

As children, Aegon teased you as any brother would. But he was far more attached to you than Aemond, and certainly Helaena. Your mother thought the relationship was a harmless one. It’s until your brother became a man and you a lady, did your mother start to separate the both of you.

It never worked. Aegon made you come to him at any time of need. Your finger is cut, no worries, he'll help you. Placing the said finger in his mouth, sucking on the blood as you watch him. At the time of your month, he’ll press kisses on your tummy to make you feel better, only for his lips to go lower and lower.

Aegon’s intentions are never good. Such as when your brother sweetly offers you to taste your favorite pastry, only for him to dip his fingers in the said pastry. Having you lick and suck his fingers clean to which you start gagging when he shoves it further inside your mouth.

His greatest weakness was the sight of your breasts. No matter how big or small they were, it’s a sight to behold. Only for his eyes to see. Capturing your nipple into his mouth, sucking harshly leaving you with the feeling of soreness afterward.

He’ll also fuck your tits. Fisting his cock as his tip nudges the stiff buds, smearing them with pre-cum. Or better yet rubbing them against the skin between your breasts. Spurting his release all over your chest and some splattering into your face, making him hard all over again as soon as your tongue makes contact with his cum.

With Aegon, there’s never a dull day. Always wanting to try something new. Forced to eat fruits such as strawberries and pineapples all day by your brother until your stomach aches. All because Aegon overheard they will make your pussy taste sweeter.

During tourneys, you and Aegon are nowhere to be found. Using this opportunity to fuck you in the chambers of those who angered him. Some lord judgmentally looked at him. He will have your back laid on their table with him pounding into you, having all their works scattered on the floor. His brother made a comment on his drinking. He’ll plunge his cock into your dripping pussy on his bed. Leaving behind such a mess for Aemond to find. He’ll even sneak you into some of the lord’s carriages, so when they are to leave, they’ll feel something sticky and wet on their seats.

When he became king, Aegon would have you ride him on the iron throne. Your stomach is still in knots and your legs are on fire when he and you reach your high. Your brother then makes you sit on the throne all while he’s on his knees, face surrounded by your thighs. Aegon may wear the crown of the conqueror, but it’s you who pulls the strings.

Rhaegar

In the stories where you hear of tall handsome princes, Rhaegar was one to come to mind. All ladies seem to think so. Eagerly surrounding and pursuing him. With the customs of your house, the ladies saw you as a competition for their prince. They were not far off, as the handsome Rhaegar’s heart was yours to have.

The gods have blessed your brother with such beauty. That is a work of art. Compared to his, yours seemed inadequate. A thought that you believed almost broke his heart. Morning to night, your brother’s delicate hands trailed your body, soft lips brushing against the skin. All done to prove you were worthy of such a title, a title of beauty, and one deserving of his affection.

Though the violet eyes that watched you always held a fondness. A fondness reserved only for you. Watching you do the most mundane things, even eating. Chuckling when the food’s remains would adhere to your lips or trail down, to which your brother wipes it for you. A certain gleam in his eye.

Every morning, it was your brother who took care of your hair. Whether it’s brushing, braiding, or dipping his fingers in the coconut oil to apply it to your hair. Rhaegar loved taking care of your skin as well. Having you completely bare while he spreads the lotion at every inch of the skin, trailing dangerously close to your lower region.

There was some resistance against his temptations. Rhaegar will be a patient man for a time, yet his father refused to announce the union. It was seen in how he’d check for you at night, tucking you in and giving you a gentle kiss on the head. Each time, it took all his strength to deny your request for him to join you. But when his patience ran thin and his strength weakened, he slipped behind the covers. A habit came to be with the prince leaving your chambers every early morning.

With the night sky being your only witness, Rhaegar lays between your legs. Drinking you in like a starved man. The chambers’ walls echo the sound of your moans, hand down pushing his face even further. Your brother groans when you gush against his tongue, arousal coating his cheek and chin.

Clutching him to your body, your eyes find his. Rhaegar presses his forehead to yours as his cock sank into your pussy. He could worship the sight of your face contorting to pleasure, worship the sounds of your moans in his ear. Your back arches and legs weakly wrap around his waist as he pounds your cunt. Your brother whispers nothing but sweet praises.

Outside the covers of your sheets, your brother also worshiped you. His heart was in your hands. You can break it over and over, and it still beats for you. You are his and he’s yours till the end of days, how he dreams of reciting your wedding vows to one another. How he dreams of you giving him a prince. The three-headed-dragon, words your brother muttered more than once.

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onismdaydream · 6 months

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build me up

sweet stepdad!leon x fem reader

tags: mdni. 18+. stepcest. afab reader. sex toys (dildo). slight voyeurism. masturbating. pet names. oral (f receiving). multiple orgasms. daddy kink. not proofread.

notes: first actual fic i'm posting in.. 2 years? pretty proud of myself even if i'm really rusty lmao anyway, this is based on an ask i sent to @lipglossanon of sweet stepdad, so hopefully i did it justice!

You didn't hear the creaking of the old wooden floors as Leon came home — you didn't even hear him call your name when he didn't find you in your usual spot on the worn couch. He said he would be working late tonight, that an emergency came up at the office and they needed his expertise. So, needless to say, you didn't realize he was watching you from your door, his tall and muscular body leaning against the frame, enjoying the show you were unknowingly putting on for him.

Quiet moans escape your lips, your face scrunching up in pleasure, as you work the toy in and out of you. You’re on your back, flimsy shirt pushed up so you can tease your perky nipples, while your other hand holds onto the thick base of the dildo, pushing as much of the length in as you could. A deep blush covers your cheeks and stretches down to your chest, coloring your skin with a pretty shade of pink. Your legs spread slightly more as he silently observes, almost as if your body knew of his presence, giving him a better view of your glistening pussy. Evidence of your arousal make the light shine off of your inner thighs and the silicone toy, drawing Leon's attention even more. Who could blame him for the way his cock twitches, stiffening at the irresistible sight in front of him.

"Feel good, sweetheart?"

You start from the sudden voice, eyes shooting open before they settle on him and you visibly relax, shoulders falling back to the mattress.

"My poor baby just couldn't wait for me, huh?" His voice is thick with arousal, the rough sound making your pussy clench around the thick dildo. Leon takes a few steps forward, licking his lips as his eyes rake over your captivating body. You open your mouth to say something — apologize, maybe — but he cuts you off before you get the chance. "Don't let me stop you. Keep going, darling."

You hesitate for a moment, suddenly feeling self conscious despite everything the two of you have done together. Masturbating and pleasuring yourself with a toy just seems so… intimate.

"Go on, show daddy how good you can take your little toy." Instead of teasing you like you initially anticipated, he watches you with rapt attention, palming the front of his jeans. A surge of arousal flows through you at the movement, feeling your heartbeat quicken at his heated gaze. Licking your lips, you nod shakily and begin moving the silicone dick again, quickly returning to your previous pace.

“Such a good girl,” Leon praises, grunting softly as he squeezes his shaft through the rough material. “You were made f’r taking cocks.” You gasp sharply at his words and rub at your clit with your other hand, feeling the familiar build up in your abdomen.

“D-daddy.” Your needy whine is barely audible over the loud squelching noises from your pussy. “G’nna cum.”

Leon hums, taking the last couple of steps necessary before he’s at the foot of your bed and climbing onto it. He walks on his knees, stopping in between your spread legs and placing his large hands on your thighs. “C’mon, baby. Wanna see your pretty face when you cream on this fake cock.” His touch sends electricity through you, rubbing your soft skin as your legs begin to tremble. You cry out his name as you feel a gush of slick oozing from your still stuffed cunt.

You’re only vaguely aware of your surroundings, the soothing timbre of his voice making the come down feel syrupy and slow. Blinking up at him, he smiles at you — a soft one, filled with adoration and love — before he leans forward to press light kisses to your neck.

“Did so good, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his slight stubble scratching against your skin, breath warm. “‘m so lucky to have a girl like you.”

You sigh contently, your fingers finding their way into his silky hair. One of his arms rests next to you, holding his weight up, the flexing muscle visible out of the corner of your eye. He continues to cover your throat in kisses, all sweet and caring, before his teeth gently scrape at your skin. It’s a barely there sensation, but it makes you whine nonetheless. Leon lifts his head enough to look you in the eyes, his hand trailing up your side before it stops at your ribcage.

“Want something, pretty baby?”

You nod, shivering at the warmth of his hand, your eyelashes fluttering shut. “Want you, daddy.”

He groans faintly and moves his hand up to cup your breast, kneading the fat gently and rolling your sensitive nipple between his fingers. “Mmm, so lucky…” Leon watches in reverence as you react to his touch, committing every single detail to memory. Ducking his head back down, he leaves a trail of wet kisses down to your soft tummy. When he moves his hand to grab at the toy that’s still partially in you, you expect him to replace it, filling you up with his thick fingers or fat cock like he always does.

But he doesn’t.

Your breath is knocked out of you as he pushes it back in.

The angle that he has allows the toy to penetrate you even deeper. Each thrust has his fingers brushing against your swollen clit, making you writhe in pleasure. You can barely keep your eyes open when the tip rubs that sweet spot, back arching off the bed.

“That’s it, baby,” He whispers. You aren’t even sure when it happened, but Leon’s mouth found its way back up your body, his tongue darting out to lick at your areola. His breath teases along your skin, your nipples hardening as he places more sloppy kisses around your breast. “Want you to feel good.”

Leon’s spent enough time with you to know how to coax an orgasm out of your body and he uses the knowledge to his advantage. He presses the toy as deep as it can go, the tip pushing against your cervix, making your legs kick out under him. “Pretty girl like you shouldn’t have to lift a finger.” He uses his thumb to rub at your clit, fast circular motions that make you see stars.

“D-daddy, please,” you manage to whine out, panting as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge. It’s hard to focus on anything other than where he’s touching you, making you feel lightheaded as another climax washes over you. A pleasant, almost numbing feeling courses throughout your entire body, your cunt weakly spasming around the toy as he slowly begins moving it, easing the fake dick out of you. You whimper at the drag of it against your raw pussy, but he just shushes you, pecking the corner of your lips.

“Such a good girl.” He mutters, tongue pushing easily into your mouth. Leon kisses you slowly, savoring each moment, until the need for air becomes too great for both of you. He’s breathing heavily as he pulls away, his eyes taking in your swollen lips and flushed cheeks. He just can’t get enough of you.

He shifts again, this time pressing his mouth against your lower thigh, right above your left knee. A high pitched whine leaves your throat when his lips travel higher. He gently nips your skin, his warm tongue soothing the slight pain that follows it. “Just one more, baby. Wanna clean your pretty pussy.”

He waits for your shaky nod, squeezing your doughy thigh lightly before he laps at the slick that’s still drooling from your cunt. You’re a little looser than usual from your earlier orgasms, so he can effortlessly press his hot tongue into your hole, fucking in and out. Your hips buck up, pushing his nose against your sensitive button. The vibrations from a deep moan makes you cry out his name, body thrashing weakly underneath him.

“Always so sweet,” he groans, drawing back slightly to sloppily kiss your clit. “Could spend ages here.” He sucks the bundle of nerves in between his lips, latching onto it, making your third climax sweep through you. You can’t even form a coherent thought as you coat his lower face with your cum, his tongue cleaning up everything he can.

You feel too spent to try and move, your entire body feeling heavy with exhaustion. He pulls away from your sore pussy, pressing a loving kiss to your stomach. You don’t catch what he says as your eyes begin to droop, but when you open them again, he’s carefully wiping your thighs with a wet towel. You make a low whining sound, looking at him with pleading eyes, wanting him to come closer. He smiles as he notices you’re awake, gently brushing his lips against your forehead.

“Feelin’ alright, darling? I didn’t overdo it, did I?” He grabs a water bottle that he must’ve brought with him, offering it to you.

“‘m fine,” you mumble groggily. “Just tired now.”

He hums and opens the bottle for you, helping you drink some, before laying you back down fully. You fight to stay awake longer, but your body feels drained and the warmth of Leon holding you against his chest makes it nearly impossible. You drift off to sleep as his hands rub your back soothingly, whispering hushed praises against your head.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #stepdad leon #perce.doc #resident evil #.resi

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who-is-page · 4 months

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CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS: Inky Paws #3

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Email invisibleotherkin(@)gmail(.)com with your submission, and please title the email "Inky Paws Zine #3 Submission". With your submission, please include:

The piece's title or name,

A name or pen name to attribute the piece to,

Any content warnings that you feel are necessary for the piece,

Any social media handle or personal website you’d like to be published alongside your name with the piece (optional), and

Any relevant author notes or author biographical information (optional).

Anonymous pieces are also welcome.

Once submissions have been collected and the deadline has passed, these submissions will be put into the zine and it will be posted online as a free PDF. Submissions are due by April 30th, 2024.

Please see the Submission Guidelines, and Submission FAQ, below cut.

SUBMISSION GUIDELINES:

Each individual may contribute up to 3 accepted submissions to be published in Inky Paws; individuals within systems may each submit 3 pieces, that is to say 3 pieces per systemmate/headmate/preferred term.

Comics and similar multi-part pieces count as one submission altogether: if you submit a single story that has been divided into two sub-stories for dramatic emphasis, or if you submit 10 pages of a single-story comic, or if you submit a written piece of fiction and an accompanying image that you drew or otherwise created to go along with it, that would still only count as one piece.

Submissions must fit the thematic criteria of:

Being explicitly about or based on nonhumans, otherkin, therianthropes, fictionkin, alterhumans, or similar groups, or;

Having strong themes or describing experiences strongly reminiscent of or related to nonhumans, otherkin, therianthropes, fictionkin, alterhumans, or similar such as (but not limited to):

Characters experiencing nonhumanity or alterhumanity as being a part of themselves/their identity,

Characters experiencing anything similar to a shift (including physical shifting),

Characters struggling with (emotionally, socially, or otherwise) being both human and nonhuman or alterhuman in some way,

Characters having a past-life as something nonhuman or alterhuman that strongly still impacts their current life, or

Characters desiring to be nonhuman or have nonhuman attributes.

TL;DR - Your submissions have to relate to or be about alterhumans or nonhumans in some way, shape, or form.

Written submissions must not exceed 7500 words, and must also use a reader-friendly font with a text size of or exceeding 16 pt.

For stories that use multiple different fonts, such as pieces meant to imitate newspapers and similar, every effort will be made to preserve the general "feel" of your piece but fonts may not be transferred over 1:1 due to potential conflicts with font copyright, readability, and overarching zine style.

Multi-part image submissions must not exceed 10 pages in length, and must also use a reader-friendly font with a text size of or exceeding 16 pt if they include text. Images larger than 8.5 x 11in. will be scaled down to an appropriate size; please take that into account when creating and submitting your images. It is also recommended that images be vertical or square in their orientation.

Written submissions should be submitted as a .docx file. Images and mixed media pieces should be submitted as either .jpg or .png files.

All submitted pieces should be your own work. Individuals caught plagiarizing or using AI within their submissions will be barred from participating in Inky Paws, including in any potential future volumes.

SUBMISSION FAQ:

Q: Where will this zine be hosted? A: The zine will be hosted for free download on Itch.io, where issues 1 and 2 of the zine are already hosted.

Q: What is the cap on submissions? A: At this time, we are not looking to accept more than roughly 25 submissions at most, in order to keep numbers and expectations manageable.

Q: Can I update my application after submitting? A: Yes, so long as the updates are submitted before the submission deadline!

Q: What is your policy on content moderation and content warnings? A: If you feel your piece needs content warnings, please include them in the submission, as we are hoping to include relevant content warnings and maturity ratings alongside all pieces. We are at this time accepting pieces of all tones and ratings.

With that said, It should be noted that any items submitted with soapboxing intent and anti-nonhuman, anti-alterhuman, anti-fictionkin, or similar leans are largely not welcome, as this is a zine geared towards all aforementioned groups and then some.

Q: Can I submit an in-progress draft or sketch? Can I claim a spot in the zine before sending in my submission? A: We are not currently accepting WIP pieces for submission at this time, though feel free to send us your WIP if you have questions related to its future submission. We also cannot reserve or guarantee a spot in the zine pre-submission, regardless of any existing drafts or WIPs.

Q: Can I submit a piece of fanfiction? A: While we've now accepted pieces of fanfiction in the past, we tend to prefer to leave them out for legal reasons. If you submit a piece of obvious fanfiction, please know that it may be significantly more likely to be rejected from the zine and that, if the piece is accepted, the piece may be removed without warning from the zine later on if DMCA or legal issues arise. We strongly advise that individuals who wish to write something inspired by fiction make it non-obvious to the outside reader where the inspiration is being taken from.

Q: Can I submit something I've created in the past? A: You can submit something you've created in the past, but please try to avoid submitting anything that you've published previously and is currently publicly accessible. For example, if the story you want to submit has already been featured in a different anthology, please don't submit it to Inky Paws! We want to encourage people to create new pieces, or to put the spotlight on pieces that haven't previously had the opportunity to be published.

Q: Do I have to write something based on the provided prompts? A: Nope! The prompts are there by popular request to help give people a jumping off point for creating, but are not required to be incorporated into your piece and will not have any effect on if your submission gets accepted or not.

Q: What is the projected timeline for this project? A: Submissions will close by April 30th of 2024. The publish date of the zine depends on submission amount and size of submissions; in an ideal world, we hope to have the zine published by December, before year's end.

Q: Can I rescind my submission? A: As long as you request to rescind your submission before the submission deadline, yes. After the deadline passes and the formatting and work towards publishing begins, we cannot guarantee that we will be able to remove your work from the zine due to time constraints and potential formatting issues. Please take this into account before submitting.

Q: Will there be any physical copies of this zine? A: Due to cost restraints and a lack of printing experience on the part of the zine organizers, we have no physical copies of this zine planned for print. You are, however, welcome to download and print copies of the zine for personal use.

Q: Who are the organizers of this zine? Where can I reach out to ask further questions? A: Who-is-Page and Noel Sol of the Sol System are organizing this zine. Feel free to send us any questions, comments, or concerns to invisibleotherkin(@)gmail(.)com, or you can always message us on Tumblr at Who-is-Page.

#alterhuman #otherkin #therian #fictionkin #zine #Inky Paws

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kirbyoctournament · 21 days

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Welcome to the Kirby OC Tournament!

the oc tournament is back again this year, and will be hosted by @starflungwaddledee and @moonverc3x!

this is a fun and friendly popularity contest for kirby-verse original character designs and their associated stories or lore. competitors can submit their characters to the competition during the submission period, after which characters will be matched randomly together in public polls for voting!

there will also be a losers bracket, to allow folks voted out early to continue playing and participating in the contest. polls are open for anyone, competitors and spectators alike!

in between each match-up, competitors can create artwork "propaganda" for their characters which will be shared to the blog! getting your character in front of voters will help people to recognise and care about them, and can increase your chances of getting votes-- as well as new fans-- for your OC!

🗓️ schedule of events 🗓️

submissions open: april 8th see below for how to submit your oc! submissions close: april 30th brackets announced: may 5th voting begins: may 7th bracket length: 1 week break length: 1 week each voting bracket will last One Week with public tumblr polls on the @kirbyoctournament blog. there will be a week between polls to give competitors time to draw up additional propaganda! depending on the size of the first bracket in particular, poll posts may be staggered over several days. if this happens, the break week will begin after the final poll closes.

🥳 how to submit your oc 🥳

Submissions are currently open and will close on April 30th. to submit your oc (only one oc allowed per participant!!), simply make a post on your own blog introducing your character with art and/or any lore you'd like to include! make sure to tag the @kirbyoctournament in your post (please do not submit via the ask box.) despite being an oc centric event, you can include canon characters in your OC backstory and propaganda. here is a template for submissions, but this is just a guide and you can deviate from it as necessary! if you want to write a lot of text, consider putting it under a 'read more'! Name: Reference Image/s: Notes on Personality (optional, but preferred!): Backstory and Lore (optional):

remember, this is a friendly competition, none of you will get hurt!

if you have any questions, send us an ask! (please do not dm either hosts, the askbox is where you need to go with questions!)

🔗 useful links 🔗

kirby oc tourney discord server. here you can chat with other competitors, mods, and get pinged when polls are posted! current confirmed competitors list. if you've tagged the blog in your submission post you can check here to make sure we've got it! Though, please allow us 24 hours after submitting your oc for them to be added before contacting us! We are doing our best to keep things up to date, but we cant be online all the time! Tournament brackets (<- link will be added once submissions close!)

🌑 mod disclaimer 🌟

@moonverc3x and @starflungwaddledee are cohosting the tourney to make sure it runs smoothly this year and so that the event can hopefully bring some joy and interaction to the kirby oc tumblr community, but we also always wanted to compete. because this is a popularity contest with public voting and all pairings are 100% randomised, we don't think this gives us any sort of advantage, and all propaganda will be posted on our private blogs like everbody else's. however we do just want to be upfront about it!

#Masterpost #kirby oc tournament #Kirby oc #info post

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fortheloveofwonderland · 21 days

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Rusty | Chapter 11 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N - Just an FYI - the fics being posted now were finished months ago. I haven't written anything for the fandom in quite a long time and at present have no drive to do so. Once Midnight and Rusty are finished posting that will be it from me for the forseeable. Thank you for coming along for the ride.

Chapter Summary - Spencer pushes through another barrier on his way to recovery. But when a face from his past shows up out of the blue it threatens to destroy everything between the two of you.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - strangers to friends to lovers | angst | smut minors DNI

Warnings - male masturbation, Spencer’s incredibly dirty thoughts, brief mention of three ways, handjobs, oral sex (f receiving) and penetrative sex (both p in v and p in a) all by way of Spencer’s imagination (Spencer is basically writing his own smut fic in his head), self inflicted wounds, talk of weight loss, swearing, arguing, yelling, tears, sad Luke, bit of a cliff hanger ending. WC - 7.6k

Chapter 11 - All My Ex's Live in Texas

The sentiment, to be able to love someone we must first learn how to love ourselves, felt oddly poignant in this moment, as Spencer stood in his bedroom, in front of the full-length mirror tucked away in his closet.

It wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence, he often gave himself a cursory glance before he left the lodge of a morning, giving himself a brief once over.

It also wasn’t something he made a habit of doing. He kept the mirror inside the closet for the purposes of not having to look at himself for long periods of time.

But this was for entirely therapeutic purposes.

And the idea of having to love oneself before allowing others into our heart rang true in an entirely different way.

Spencer needed to be able to engage himself physically before he could expect anyone else to do the same.

It had been four days since his trip to Doctor Ortega’s office. In those four days the two of you had participated in a string of increasingly heavier make out sessions, three of which fervent enough to yet again cause Spencer to come in his pants, but as yet had not graduated onto anything more intimate.

Yesterday the two of you had ridden your respective mares into Pipe Creek for Spencer to collect his new prescription and Doctor Ortega had caught him on his way out.

She’d taken him aside and reminded him that in order to take back control of his own body, he had to truly own it himself before he frivolously tried to hand it over to someone new.

And that’s what led him here. Standing in front of his full-length mirror, naked as the day he was born.

The only part of his body that was concealed was his casted arm, he’d even gone as far as to remove the dressings from his bicep, thigh and stomach.

The wounds were all at various stages of healing, scabbing over and starting to scar. They would all leave their marks upon his skin for the rest of his life, a constant reminder that he’d been to hell but was desperately trying to claw his way back.

He focused on them for longer than necessary, trying to distract his mind from the task at hand for as long as he possibly could. You’d gone to the grocery store with Rusty and wouldn’t be back for a while. He had time for his introspective.

He inspected each cut with a keen eye, taking note of how each brandished him, pictured what they’d look like once solid and pink against his alabaster flesh.

This was not an activity Spencer relished. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked at his naked form in such a manner. It felt clinical. Yet another experiment.

Spencer liked experiments so he tried to keep that in mind as he took himself in as a whole before slowly ingesting each individual facet that made the full Spencer Reid picture.

Start at the top, work his way down. Cold, removed, distant.

Still got a good head of hair, not like William. Good hair. Thick hair. No greys. Almost forty and no greys. That’s pretty good going considering the stress I’ve been under.

Nice eyes. Friendly eyes, that’s what JJ called them. Or was it kind eyes? Nice no less. Brown with gold flecks mom always used to point out.

Bags under the eyes aren’t so nice. When did they get so purple? I look like I’ve never slept a day in my life.

Nose. Lips. Chapped lips, such dry lips. How does Y/N kiss me? Need to buy chapstick. Must remember to buy chapstick.

Need to shave. Or do I? I don’t hate the stubble, it makes me look tougher. Wonder what Y/N’s opinion on it is? Maybe I should ask her.

His eyes trailed slightly lower to his torso.

Still so skinny. Didn’t I put on weight? Where did that go? Mom always says I look like I’m not eating. Have I been eating? When did I get this skinny?

Lost weight in prison. Couldn't eat after…my mouth was always too sore. Thought I’d put it back on. Did I lose it again? How? When?

He raised his hand in absent-mindedness and ran his fingers along the visible bones of his sternum, protruding through his milky skin. He pulled a face and dropped his hand again, somewhat unamused.

His eyes briefly flitted back over the cut on his left side, garnering his attention once again before flicking to his stomach.

Definitely lost weight, but how? Hip bones are more prominent. Got one of those little v-cut muscles I was always jealous of on Luke. Did I get that from riding? It does require core strength. I’ve never noticed it before.

He continued quickly past the appendage where his attention was supposed to be, down to his legs. He’d always had strong thighs, thick thighs but they were somehow even meatier than he remembered.

Is that from riding too? Must be. Good legs, definitely not terrible legs. Sturdy. Load bearing.

I’m stalling.

He closed his eyes with a loud huff, feeling incredibly self conscious all of a sudden. Opening his eyes again he forced his gaze between his legs where his flaccid member hung in a bed of pubic hair.

And here we are, the thorn in my side. The bane of my goddamn existence. My…

…it’s not gonna get hard if you berate it.

He grit his teeth and stared almost aggressively at the length of flesh and muscle between his legs.

Masturbation should not be this difficult.

It felt forced. He wasn’t aroused, not even a little. On the occasions in his life he had turned to self pleasure, it was only because he was incredibly horny, which wasn’t a regular occurrence for him unless he was in the act itself.

He’d never just sat and thought I’m bored, maybe I could jerk one off. What was normal protocol here?

His new phone had the internet and he would probably be able to look up a porn site. But what porn? Spencer didn’t even know what kind of porn he liked.

He found both men and women attractive, where would he even begin? In an ideal world, what kind of sexual desire would…oh…oh!

He stared at his cock as it twitched very slightly, heart beat picking up at the simple thought. He kept his eyes trained downwards while he contemplated it again.

I like both men and women, I find them equally attractive. Specifically one man and one woman so what if I could have both?

Again he twitched, before his very eyes his cock started to swell. His mouth fell open, chest heaving with his breaths.

Y/N and Luke? Together? And me. All three of us. Together. Touching. Kissing. Or I could just watch, I’d be pretty happy to watch.

Again he was amazed by the sudden jerk of his shaft, swelling slowly but surely.

Oh this could work. I think this might work.

He wrapped his hand around his shaft without too much thought in case he might talk his way out of this. He was only semi-erect but the speed in which it had happened meant he could be fully aroused in no time.

He kept his eyes open, trying to force himself to watch as he started his slow strokes but his mind was wandering quickly down a sinful rabbit hole.

Standing over them while she straddles him, her bare thighs pressed against his bare thighs, taking hold of his hard cock in her hand.

Hearing Luke moan as his Adam’s apple bobs at her touch. Her beautiful, petite hand, unable to wrap all the way around his shaft. But she tries, she tries so hard. She wants to make him feel good, wants to give me a show.

Luke’s looking up at me, his eyes blown out with lust.

“Come closer, cariño, let me touch you.”

Oh how I happily oblige.

Whilst she’s stroking Luke I kneel on the bed next to them and Luke is immediately taking me in his own large hand. I moan and my head falls back against my shoulders at his touch.

He strokes me in time with her strokes on him. The sound of flesh on flesh echoing in the room. Moans and heavy breaths.

There’s another hand on my jaw, I look at her and she draws me in for a deep kiss. Her tongue explores my mouth while Luke’s hand pumps my cock.

My other hand finds her breast and I knead it beneath my fingers, pinching her hardened nipple in my hand.

Yep, that’ll do it.

He was fully erect in his hand now, stroking himself at an almost furious pace. His hand twisted and tightened, staring at his cock in his own hand in the mirror.

Laying on my back and she’s on top of me, lowering herself down, slowly, slowly. Inch by inch I watch myself disappear inside her silken walls. I can feel the way her body stretches and pulls around my hard cock.

Luke is behind her, palming her tits, kissing her neck. She’s whining, moaning because she’s so tight and I’m so big.

“How does he feel, baby?” Luke whispers against her flesh once I’m completely sheathed inside of her.

“Fuck, he feels so good.” She starts to rock back and forth on top of me, eyes staring intently down at me.

One of Luke’s hands travels downwards, to the juncture where our bodies meet. His index finger pressing against her clit.

She vibrates around me, sending shockwaves down my cock. The moan that leaves my lips is nothing short of feral.

Frantically fisting his own cock whilst imagining the pleasures of being with the both of you and his head was already leaking against hand. He swiped his thumb through it, legs buckling a little at the sensation and using his precum as lube.

He was gnawing on his lip, watching the way his cock throbbed in his hand. It was a heady sight to behold. He thought he’d be disgusted by it. Was it wrong that it turned him on more?

He looked good like this, strong, virile, dare he even say, sexy? He felt powerful as he watched his face contort in the pleasure he was bestowing upon himself. His staunch thighs shook beneath him.

His thick and heavy length pulsed against his palm.

She’s on her back, legs spread for me. I leave a trail of kisses across her soft skin but I’m in a hurry, I need to get to my final destination.

Once my face is buried between her folds, I lap up at her arousal before my tongue settles on her swollen bud. She writhes beneath me at the contact, trying to move away. But I stop her with an arm across her abdomen.

She moans and screams as I take her in my mouth, suckling on her sensitive clit. Like a man possessed I work between her legs, like she’s my favourite meal.

I can feel a heat behind me, and hands on my hips guiding me up onto my knees. I comply because I’m so wrapped up in the way she tastes on my tongue.

Then there’s something pressing into me from behind, I’m being stretched but in the best possible way.

As Luke fills me up I moan into her core, making her squirm. The sounds in the room are melting into the walls, the smell of sex is heavy in the air.

Luke thrusts into me hard and fast and I take two fingers and plunge them inside of her waiting heat while keeping my mouth on her desperate clit.

She’s rocking against my face, coating my lips and chin in her arousal as my fingers sink inside of her.

Luke is grunting as he fucks me, filling me up in a way I haven’t been filled in so long. Between my legs I can feel my cock twitching, pulsing, close to the edge without being touched.

“Oh fuck,” Spencer mumbled, legs trembling. “Oh Jesus fucking Christ.”

More precum leaked from his tip, coating his hand as he thought of eating you out while Luke fucked him. His head was hazy, his breaths ragged.

“Fuck, Spence, I’m close. So close.” She screams as I plunge my fingers in and out of her and swipe my tongue over her clit.

Luke’s thrusts are growing more violent, his balls slapping against my ass.

“Make her come, Spence. You can do it, cariño.” Luke encouraged me and I pick up my speed.

Soon enough I feel her walls clenching around my fingers and she’s coming undone at my will. She’s convulsing beneath me and I know it’s all because of me.

And as I feel her coming, moaning my name, my own orgasm starts to pinch at my stomach and I know it won’t be long before I’m…

…“fuck, fuck, fuck!” Spencer screamed as he gripped the base of his shaft and started splattering streaks of his come all over the mirror.

He kept stroking himself through his orgasm, his legs undulating back and forth as he expelled himself on the reflective surface, covering his hand in his sticky seed.

He watched every small movement of his body, his quivering thighs, his leisurely strokes on his spent cock, his chest dragging up and down with each shallow breath.

His brain was foggy but his vision was exceedingly clear. He was fascinated by the way his body moved, how one small ripple in one muscle caused another to flex and so on and so forth.

The contours of his body seemed so sharp in his post orgasm haze, every pull or push, every pulse, every dilation.

He’d never looked upon himself with such startling clarity before as his shaft started to soften in his hand, it was all becoming clear.

This is my body. I can see it. I can feel it. My body belongs to me. My body doesn’t belong to anyone but me.

I am whole. I am whole.

I am Spencer Reid and I am whole.

He was so lost in his newfound captivation of his own frame, he didn’t hear you enter the lodge or call his name. He also didn’t hear the bedroom door open or your footsteps on the wooden floor.

It wasn’t until your face appeared in the reflection behind him that he registered his company.

“Uh, hi?” A smirk adorned itself on your features as you regarded him, soft cock in his hand and the distinctive come stains on the mirror.

You couldn’t stop your gaze flitting up and down his body. You’d never seen him completely naked before, uninhibited, exposed.

You tried to make a mental note of every dip and curve of his glorious body. He really was a sight to behold.

“Hi,” he replied, returning your smile.

“Everything okay here?”

He let go of his length, turned to face you. His pupils were blown out wide.

“More than okay.” He nodded.

And suddenly he advanced on you, smashing his lips against yours and not caring in the slightest that he was naked and sticky with his own come.

He grabbed at you, pawed at you hungrily. His wandering hands got you out of your clothes in no time at all and soon the two of you were falling back to the bed.

He was on top of you, kissing you with reckless abandon. He could already feel himself growing hard again between your bodies.

His tongue desperately explored your mouth as though it were the first time, he manoeuvred you both so he was on his back and you were straddling him.

He hissed as he got an unhindered sight of your breasts as you sat atop him. Needy hands wandered until they were palming them, pinching your nipples between his deft fingers until they stood to attention, not allowing himself to be impeded by his cast.

You moaned and rocked back and forth on top of him, his hard cock gliding between your folds. Spencer whined and bucked against you.

He removed his hands, letting his casted arm fall back to his side. His good hand circled around your wrist, gripping it tight and moving your hand so it hovered above his cock.

You stared at him, silently questioning him. Spencer simply nodded in response and let go of your wrist.

You sucked in a breath, cautious as you lowered your hand closer to his throbbing member. When your hand wrapped around his base he moaned in fervour.

His eyes rolled back into his skull, back arching off the bed. You slowly started to move your hand up and down around him but he was soon bucking into your hand, setting the pace for you.

His desperation was evident in the surges of his hips snapping back and forth fiercely. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip as his eyes landed on you again.

He smiled up at you, the ethereal being perched on his thighs whilst working to bring him the utmost pleasure.

He was whole. He was finally beginning to feel whole.

***

It was getting late by the time the BAU finally wrapped up in Texas. Luke had agreed with Rossi that he would take one day off to visit Spencer before he joined them back at Quantico.

Given the hour, Luke intended on getting a hotel for the night in Bandera town. He drove those forty some miles north from San Antonio in his SUV, fingers tapping nervously against the steering wheel as he tuned into a country and western radio station.

The back seat was full of gifts and cards which Garcia had sent to the police precinct for Luke to deliver to their old friend for his birthday which was just a few days away.

Luke’s nerves flooded his body, causing his stomach to form into tight knots. The closer he got to Bandera, the more anxious he grew, palms sweating against the wheel.

He was under no illusion that Spencer would be happy to see him, especially with him showing up unannounced. But in Luke’s defence he had tried to call Spencer several times over the last few days to inform him of his visit. It wasn’t his fault Spencer didn’t answer.

It was nearing eleven pm by the time Luke arrived in Bandera and try as he might he couldn’t get himself to the hotel.

He couldn’t wait another minute. He needed to see Spencer now.

He took the turning off the main road with the directions Garcia had sent him. He drove a little ways up a dirt track until he came to a stop next to another car.

Killing the engine he frowned himself. He didn’t think Spencer had a car. He supposed he could have purchased one any time.

He slid out of the SUV, dropping to the dirt and closed the door behind him. There was a small single storey lodge a few hundred yards up on the left.

There was a light on.

Luke swallowed, smoothing out his shirt and running his fingers through his hair. His chest swelled with nerves and his legs shook a little as he started towards the lodge.

***

Spencer’s second orgasm seemed to come quicker than the first, your small, dainty hand bringing him to completion in no time at all. Chest heaving with his breaths, he immediately pulled you down by the back of your neck so he could kiss you.

He was whole. He was whole. They didn’t win.

He kissed you fiercely, his come sticky between your bodies but neither of you minded. His hand stayed on the back of your neck, pinning you to him.

“You’re amazing.” He mumbled against your lips.

“No, you’re amazing.” You replied.

You wanted to tell him you were proud of him but you didn’t want to make a big deal of it or have him think you were patronising him. Instead you continued kissing him, grinding your bodies together as you did so.

Spencer felt like every single one of his nerve endings were on fire. He was overstimulated, he could feel every thread of the sheets beneath him, feel every negligible movement of your body as it moved against his own.

It was eye opening. He’d forgotten how this was supposed to feel. Intimacy wasn’t meant to make him feel guilty, pleasure wasn’t designed to cause him pain.

He’d neglected to remember how it should feel. Two bodies coming together, becoming one. Becoming whole.

He felt as though he could well be floating, his body lighter than air. He needed more. He needed so much more. He needed everything and he needed it with you.

He gripped the back of your neck firmly, tongue roughly exploring the deepest recesses of your mouth. The sound of heavy breathing filled the room alongside soft moans and the friction of skin on skin.

And for the second time that night, Spencer didn’t hear the door to his cabin open or the heavy footsteps on his hardwood floor.

***

Worryingly, Luke found the door to Spencer’s lodge was ajar, not quite closed all the way. His hand immediately pressed against the butt of his gun in its holster, ready just in case. In his experience, nothing good came from doors being left open. Least of all way out here in the sticks.

He hesitantly pushed it open and took a step inside. The space was small and mostly full of books which didn’t surprise him at all. There were a few paper grocery bags on the kitchen counter. Nothing looked out of place or disturbed.

He let his hand fall back to his side, trying to calm his erratically beating heart. Spencer could be scatty sometimes, perhaps he’d just been in a hurry. There was nothing to panic about.

He stepped closer towards the closed door past the kitchen, for which he assumed was the bedroom. It was only as he drew closer that he started to register the sounds of heavy breathing.

His first thought was that Spencer might be having a panic attack. He’d had them a lot after prison, Luke knew all too well what they looked like. Perhaps he’d started to have one when he arrived home with groceries, it would explain why the door wasn’t closed properly and why the bags were still on the counter.

Another wave of unease washed over him and he quickly pushed open the door without a second thought.

The two bodies on the bed came into view and Luke felt as though the whole world came crumbling down around him in a single second. The body on top with their back to him was definitely female. The body beneath, laying on the bed was obscured from view but Luke would recognise those soft moans anywhere.

“Wow,” he croaked out the single word as tears flooded his vision.

Spencer suddenly sat up in bed, glaring at Luke over your shoulder. His mouth fell open, eyes wide in shock at the ghost standing in his doorway.

“L-Luke?” He stuttered.

“Luke?” You hissed without looking over your shoulder. “As in…?”

“Hmm.” Spencer nodded.

You were still in his lap, trying to hide your naked frame against Spencer’s. You needed to leave. You couldn’t be part of this. You swung yourself off of the bed and in one swift move sprinted to the bathroom before you could give this stranger an eyeful.

You’d left Spencer exposed and he quickly pulled the sheet around his body despite the fact Luke had seen him naked hundreds of times before. He hadn’t seen this version of him though, the one with the cuts and scabs from self abuse. He stared at Luke and Luke and him. Seconds seemed like hours.

He noticed Luke’s gaze flicker down to his arm and his brows pinched together.

“What happened to your arm?” Luke asked in concern.

Spencer didn’t know whether he meant the cast or the cut on his bicep but he didn’t ask.

“Riding accident.” Spencer clenched his jaw. “What are you…why are you here?”

“We were in town for a case. I tried to call, you didn’t answer. The door was open and I thought something might have happened to you.” The hurt in Luke’s voice was palpable and Spencer felt a little guilty that he’d had to walk into this.

“Uh, lemme get dressed okay? I’ll meet you outside?” Spencer chewed on the tip of his tongue, half thinking his overstimulated brain was imagining the man in front of him.

Had he given over so entirely to his fantasy that it had begun to feel real? Was this all part of his vivid speculation? Was he in fact still masturbating in front of his mirror?

No, it was all too real. The sadness in Luke’s eyes, the way his shoulders slumped with the weight of seeing his ex in bed with someone else. The way you’d so hurriedly scampered off to the bathroom.

This was real life, even if it did feel like a nightmare.

Luke nodded stiffly and turned about on his heels. Spencer watched his retreating form pad out of the bedroom and close the door behind him.

Spencer got to his feet and started gathering up his clothes from the floor. He tapped on the bathroom door as he was fighting with his boxers.

“Are you okay?” He called when he got no answer.

“Your ex is here, what do you think!” You hissed in response.

“I had no idea he was coming here, Y/N. I didn’t invite him.” He was stuffing his legs back in his jeans, trying to ignore the way the fabric scratched his open wounds.

“What the hell is he doing here then?”

“I don’t know! I have no idea.” He grabbed his t-shirt whilst still working on the button of his jeans. “I need to deal with this, hopefully I won’t be long.”

“Okay.” You whispered, hearing his footsteps head away from the door.

He pulled the t-shirt down over his torso as he swung open the bedroom door. Through the window in the front door he could see Luke pacing the length of his porch.

Spencer exhaled, raking his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame it from his previous activities. He swallowed around his dry tongue and stepped towards the door.

A frigid burst of air hit him as he stepped outside, joining Luke on the porch. Luke stopped in his tracks and glanced at Spencer. Even in the darkness he could see the tears in Luke’s eyes.

“So, you’ve moved on, huh?” Luke folded his arms across his chest.

“It’s been two years, what did you expect?” Spencer shrugged.

He hated that even after all this time Luke could still cause all the air to leave his lungs. He looked much the same as Spencer remembered in his mind's eye that last time he saw him. He had an extra few creases around his eyes, a few more greys peppering his hairline, but otherwise he remained unchanged.

“What did I expect? Well for starters I expected more from you than leaving without a damn word! I expected that you wouldn’t completely cut me out of your life! I expected…maybe I hoped that I wasn’t the only one still pining like an idiot.” He choked back a sob. “So she gets the healed Spencer Reid? She gets to have you now you’ve worked through your trauma? When I was the one that spent a year by your side after, trying to help you? How is that fair?”

“You think I’m healed?” Spencer’s voice raised a little. “You think I’ve worked through my trauma?”

“It looks that way to me. I seem to remember the last time I tried to get you into that position you pinned my arm behind my back!” Luke spat.

“You have no idea what this is like for me.” Spencer shook his head angrily. “She is the first person I have been able to get close to and even still I’m terrified I’m only one second away from breaking down at all times. It’s been four years and this is the closest I’ve come to moving past what happened to me but I am by no means suddenly shiny and new. I haven’t had sex with her, is that what you want to hear? At this point I’m not even sure I can!

“You can’t just show up here after two years and think you know what I’m going through. I have to take medication every day just so I am not completely crippled by my trauma. I blackout when the stress gets too much, I dissociate because my mind can’t handle the pain. Don’t come here and assume you know what I’m going through. You have no idea.”

In the bathroom you heard raised voices outside and worried about Spencer’s rising anger and what could happen if he let it get out of control. You snuck back out and found your clothes, quickly redressing and creeping into the living room.

From the kitchen you could see them through the glass pane in the front door without them being able to see you were watching. You told yourself you weren’t eavesdropping, you just wanted to be ready in case Spencer needed grounding.

You tucked yourself away in the corner, eyes on the side of Luke’s face. You felt that swell of familiarity again that you couldn’t place. Your fingers kneaded your achy jaw as you listened.

“You were supposed to come back! I gave you time, I gave you space. I thought if I did those things you would come back and we would be okay again.” Luke rubbed his eyes to try and stem his tears.

“That’s not my fault, Luke. I didn’t ever give you a reason to believe that would be the case. I’m sorry I left without telling you, I know I should have said goodbye. But I can’t change that. This is my life now, I have no intentions of coming back to DC. I’m sorry if you thought that I would, but I never gave any indication that I would.” Spencer rubbed his hand on his jeans, focusing on the rough texture.

He needed to stay tethered, he couldn’t let the anger bubble and cause his mind to detach.

“Did you love me?” Luke’s voice pitched. “Did you ever really love me like you said you did?”

You knew that voice, you were sure of it. You just couldn’t place it.

“How can you even ask me that?” Spencer softened. “Of course I did.”

“But it was easier for you to run away than try and make things work with the man you supposedly loved?” Luke exhaled.

“I had to leave. After everything that happened, after Merva, it was just too much. I needed to get away from DC, away from it all.” Spencer sniffed loudly.

“You could have talked to me instead of running away, Spencer. It’s what I was there for. But you never talked to me.”

“I couldn’t talk to you, Luke. I couldn’t talk to anyone. I just wanted to forget.” Spencer’s eyes filled with tears and he rubbed his palm roughly against his thigh, focused on the material of his jeans.

“You know I know what happened right?” Luke shrugged. “I know what happened to you in prison. I read the medical reports.”

Spencer froze. His rampant rubbing of his thigh stopped, he felt like his breathing stopped. He glared at Luke while he processed his words.

He’d read the report. He’d known all along.

Inside your brows pinched together. Prison? Spencer was in prison? Surely you must have the wrong end of the stick? Spencer did not seem like the type. There must be something you were missing.

“You…how could you?” Spencer croaked. “How could you do that to me?”

“You wouldn’t talk to me. I was worried about you.”

“Worried? You were worried? So you invaded my privacy? Those reports were not your concern Luke! I figured Prentiss would have to see them but you…I can’t believe you would do that to me.” Spencer’s voice raised again and felt the anger in his stomach.

Deep breaths, take deep, calming breaths. One, two, three, four, five. One, two, three, four, five. Feel something beneath your hand, ground yourself. This will be okay. One, two, three, four, five.

“Maybe if you’d talked to me I wouldn’t have felt the need to.” Luke didn’t know why he was trying to justify himself, he knew what he’d done was wrong. “How did you ever get cleared to come back to work? You were clearly struggling.”

“Oh please, we wrote those questions. You think after fifteen years of profiling I didn’t know the right things to say to the bureau shrink so she would reinstate me?” Spencer clucked.

“Did you ever tell her you were ra-”

“Don’t you dare you say it.” Spencer cut him off. “Don’t you dare.”

Your head was spinning with the new information. Prison. Profiling. Bureau? What did this all mean? Your cell phone was on the counter next to the bags and you reached for it before hiding back in your corner. The arguing continued outside while you brought up a Google search.

Spencer Reid + bureau

Within less than a second, hundreds of search results popped up on the little screen, articles upon articles. You quickly skim read some of the search results as your hand shook around the device.

The youngest academy graduate recruited to the FBI’s illustrious Behavioral Analysis Unit, twenty two year old Doctor Spencer Reid…

With his three PhD’s, and IQ of 187, SSA Doctor Spencer Reid was hand picked by BAU founder Jason Gideon…

After a high speed chase in Mexico the FBI’s Behavioural Analysis Unit are on the scene. It’s thought that a member of the team is involved…

BAU Member SSA Doctor Spencer Reid acquitted of charges against him…

Hostage situation involving two members of the BAU…no further information is known at this time…

Your head swam. Your stomach lurched. This couldn’t be true, yet it was here in black and white.

You were sleeping with the enemy. The sweet, kind cowboy you’d rescued from the desert was a former FBI Agent.

Three PhD’s? An IQ of 187? Doctor?

What the fuck was going on? You knew there were things he hadn’t told you but did you know him at all? And what led to an FBI agent going to prison? And what happened to him in prison that Luke had ascertained from his medical records?

You felt dizzy. You pushed yourself back up against the wall so you wouldn’t collapse. Luke’s raised voice brought you back around.

“You could have told me! I would have understood, I could have helped!”

“No one can help me! Why don’t you understand that?” Spencer yelled back.

“She seemed to be doing a fine job.” Luke scoffed, nodding his head towards the door.

“Goddamnit, would you let that go?”

“Let it go? How the hell can I let that go? Every time I close my eyes I will see her on top of you!” Luke threw his arms up into the air.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be stronger, okay? I’m sorry I pushed you away. But I am finally starting to move past what happened to me. I’m sorry I couldn’t do that for you but Y/N is…she makes me feel like I can heal. And I need that Luke, I need to heal.” Spencer sniffed again, feeling his tears dangerously close to falling.

Luke didn’t appear to be listening though, his brows pinched together as he rolled something over in his mind.

“Did you say Y/N?” He rubbed the side of his neck.

Your back went rigid. Hearing him say your name dislodged something distant in the back of your mind.

“Have you seen this woman? Her name is Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N and we have reason to believe she’s been seen in this area.”

“Yeah, why?” Spencer’s voice broke through your memory.

“I…I’m not sure.” Luke looked deep in thought. “Can I…? One sec.”

Spencer watched in confusion as Luke turned and headed down the stairs towards his SUV. He wrapped his good arm around himself in protection and to stave off the cold night.

“Have you seen this woman? Her name is Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N and we have reason to believe she’s been seen in this area.”

“I don’t know nothing, ‘bout nothing.”

“Can you take a closer look at her photo ma’am? Your neighbour seems to think she’s been staying here.”

“Again, I don’t know nothing, ‘bout nothing.”

“Would you mind if we took a look around?”

“You got a warrant?”

“No…”

“Then get the hell off of my property.”

Magnolia Springs, Alabama. Mrs Royce, the kindly old woman for whom your mother had been best friends with all throughout childhood. She’d offered you a place to stay after you escaped custody. That was until her nosy neighbour recognised you from the wanted posters.

You’d buried your mom’s money under a tree in the wooded area behind her house and watched from a distance as two FBI Agents had come to her home to question her. Even though she hadn’t seen your mother in more years than she could count, Mrs Royce was fiercely loyal, and hadn't said a word.

You hadn’t had a great vantage point for which to see the agents, only caught small glimpses of them from where you hid in the back of the house. But they’d introduced themselves as -

- Agents Phil Brooks and Luke Alvez.

Luke was hurrying back from his car with a manilla folder and Spencer stayed stock still while he awaited him. Luke opened the folder and pulled out a sheet of paper which he proffered to Spencer as soon as he was close enough.

“What is this?” Spencer frowned at the paper.

“Is this the woman? I only saw her from the back. She coulda changed her hair? Is this her?” Luke jabbed a finger at the photograph in the corner of the page. “She escaped from a max security facility a few weeks ago. Phil called me.”

To Spencer’s credit, no matter how many years it had been since he’d needed to to use his poker face, he was still an expert at it. His expression didn’t even so much as flinch as he looked at the photograph of you on Luke’s printout.

He was right, you had changed your hair. But it was without a doubt you looking back at him from that mugshot. He glanced away, back at Luke and shook his head.

“No.” He lied. “I’ve never seen this woman before.”

Luke’s eyes narrowed in scrutiny, watching for any little twitch, any tiny hint that Spencer was keeping something from him. But the truth was, even though they had dated and Luke thought he knew Spencer better than anyone, he never could read Spencer.

“You wouldn’t lie to me would you, Spencer? Because this woman is dangerous, and if you’re lying to me, that’s harbouring a fugitive. I don’t need to tell you that comes with a prison sentence.” Luke observed again.

Even at the mention of prison, Spencer’s features didn’t change.

“I’m telling you Luke, I don’t know this woman.” He waved the paper in front of him. “I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”

Your own brows pinched together. You peered out the window to see the paper in Spencer’s hand but it was too dark to see exactly what was on it. But you were certain he would know it was you in the photograph. So why was he lying?

“Right, I’m just being paranoid I guess.” Luke huffed, snatching the paper back from Spencer.

“I think you should go Luke, it's late and you shouldn’t have come here.” Spencer returned his arm to its position wrapped around him.

“I’m staying down the road for the night. Maybe we can meet tomorrow for coffee or something?” Luke tucked the file under his arm.

“No,” Spencer shook his head. “I don’t want this Luke. I moved out here for a reason, to get away from my life in DC. To get away from…from…”

“From me?” Luke croaked.

“From everyone.” Spencer corrected him. “You will always have a place in my heart, Luke. I did love you but I’m not the same man I was when we started dating and I’m never going to be him again. You have to let me go, Luke, please? Please just let me go.”

Luke wanted to argue, he wanted to argue with every fibre of his being. He didn’t drive all the way out here to have it end like this.

But Spencer’s sad eyes and downturned lips forced him to bite his tongue. Spencer had been through an immeasurable amount of trauma and he was just trying to make it through to the otherside. Luke couldn't help him, he tried, but he’d failed. Perhaps the best thing for Spencer’s wellbeing was for Luke to walk away, to let him go once for and for all.

Luke huffed a breath out through his nose and took a few steps backwards. He navigated the steps whilst never taking his eyes off of Spencer.

“I wish it could have been different.” Luke’s first tear fell and he didn’t try to hide it. “You were the love of my life.”

“I know.” Spencer scrunched his face up as he felt his own tears ready to escape.

“But I wasn’t yours.” Luke spoke for him with a weak shrug of his shoulders. “I want you to be happy, Spencer, it’s all I’ve ever wanted. Just promise me you’ll check in? I’m not asking for daily phone calls or anything like that but please stop ignoring me when I reach out. I’d really like to still be a part of your life even if only in a small capacity.”

“That, uh, sounds reasonable.” Spencer nodded.

“And call Penelope more. She worries about you more than anyone.” Luke shrugged, still walking backwards toward the SUV.

“I will.” He nodded, swallowed thickly. But he was sure if you were who he now knew you to be, he’d never be able to talk to any of his old team ever again.

He felt overcome with discomfort. The goodbye he’d avoided two years ago now here at his feet. Spencer didn’t like goodbyes, it was why he’d left without them the first time.

Goodbyes were endings. Full stops. The closing of a book. Spencer had wanted to keep the story open, unfinished, just in case he ever had the impetus to write that final chapter. But it had been penned for him. Luke had snatched the metaphorical pen from his hand by coming here and effectively completed their story.

“Uh, goodbye then I guess.” Luke shrugged as he reached the car.

“G-goodbye, Luke.” Spencer whispered.

The book slammed shut. Or perhaps it was the car door. Either way, Spencer Reid and Luke Alvez’s story had come to its bitter end.

He stood on the porch and watched as Luke started the engine before putting the vehicle in reverse. He continued to observe as the headlights cast an eerie glow on his land as the SUV turned around. He still just stood there as Luke’s car took to the dirt track back to the main road and soon vanished from sight.

He huffed out a breath, rubbed his eyes to disperse the tears before turning to the door and practically throwing it open. He marched inside and found you in the corner of the kitchen, back pressed up against the wall. You’d been listening, of course you had.

Spencer stayed on his side of the kitchen counter, worried what he might do if he came too close to you. He needed the barrier between you. He slammed his good hand on the counter top but you didn’t even flinch. His eyes were manic as they looked at you, large and wild. His chest was heaving erratically.

He opened his mouth several times to speak but the words kept getting stuck in his dry throat. Minutes of painful silence stretched between you while you kept your eyes on each other.

Eventually Spencer sucked in a sharp breath, his jaw set in a tight line when he finally spoke.

“Who the fuck are you?” He spat the words like venom on his tongue.

You straightened yourself, squared your shoulders as if it might somehow intimidate him. When you spoke it was with equal malevolence.

“I was going to ask you the same thing, SSA Doctor Spencer Reid.”

More silence followed, reaching out into the sparse caverns that gorged their way between you. The wicked talons of the unspoken words weaved around you, wrapping you both in their icy clutches.

You were both acutely aware that whatever conversation was about to transpire between you would inevitably make or break this fledgling relationship. You were no longer who you had been just hours before. A lonely cowboy and a weary traveller no more. All that remained was an FBI Agent and a Fugitive.

It seemed inescapable that this could only end in one of two ways -

Either he called the cops on you and you were thrown back in prison, having the key thrown away and left to rot for the rest of your life behind bars. Or one of you would wind up dead.

And you were not going back to prison.

@kalulakunundrum @small-and-violent @voledart @katrina0-0 @bakugouswh0r3 @prettyboyandthefangirl @zooni92802 @mavellover1819 @babyspiderling

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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idyllic-affections · 10 months

Note

Here's how i view the hashira as:

Mitsuri is the bestest big sister ever no i don't accept no everyone loves her and there is a reason

Kyojuro would be the cool big brother along with tengen (his wives would love to take care of you as well)

Sanemi is the mean insane looking uncle that's actually soft for you and only you (he's still mean tho )

Obanai is kinder to you in comparison because mitsuri loves you and he doesn't want to make her sad (he grows to love you but is too shy to accept it)

Muichiro and giyuu are your silent siblings that you go to when you need to be alone but not completely alone y'know like they don't talk much so it's perfect for some quality time

(i don't know enough about gyomei to make an assumption rn)

I was bored so um,,, here you go?

the hashira as a big found family.

summary. the hashira, but with found family dynamics.

trigger & content warnings. no applicable warnings.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. found family, fluff. mitsuri kanroji & reader, kyojuro rengoku & reader, tengen uzui & reader, sanemi shinazugawa & reader, obanai iguro & reader, muichiro tokito & reader, giyuu tomioka & reader, gyomei himejima & reader, shinobu kocho & reader. 0.7k words. no pronouns for reader.

author's thoughts. 100% agreed!!! i had to make a post based on this ask, it was super cute to me hehe <3 thank you for the idea!!

mitsuri is the kind and supportive big sister. she is well beloved for a reason, indeed. she's the one you can go to if you need encouragement. oh, some people said that you're bad at your hobby? that you're bad at your job as a demon slayer, if you happen to share her occupation? don't listen to them! you're doing your best, that's all that matters. she won't rudely confront anyone being mean, but she will confront them if necessary. she's just very kind about it, about everything she does <3

kyojuro and tengen are the guy equivalents of mitsuri. kyojuro is so so supportive, just like mitsuri! tengen is also very supportive, but he's the one to lovingly bully you (and later get scolded by his wives for it. he looks like a kicked puppy every time they yell at him LMAO). he's also one of the "no-one can bully them except for me!!" types. it's okay, though. if tengen's being too mean, just go hide behind kyojuro or tengen's wives! kyojuro will laugh joyously and just... hoist you up and run away. he probably takes you out to eat! the wives can and will bully tengen back if you choose to run to them.

sanemi is definitely that uncle. the words he spits towards you in front of everyone else are mean and cruel, but behind closed doors, he's much gentler. gives you little headpats. he feeds dogs with you as a pastime. also he is SO protective man. if someone fucks with you, just go to sanemi. he will chew them OUT. he'll tear them a whole new asshole. he's the second "no-one can bully them except for me!" type.

obanai is an interesting one, i think. on on hand, he is kind of like sanemi in that he's a little mean and harsh with you, but he's generally much gentler than sanemi. he's kind of like a reserved older cousin. you don't see him much, and you don't talk to him as much, but he loves you nonetheless. he's just too shy to admit it. bro also doesn't want to make his wife mitsuri sad, so yeah, he's a lot gentler with you than sanemi is. he will also be so mean to anyone who harasses you.

muichiro is definitely the quiet, absentminded brother. if you just want to quietly watch clouds or listen to the wind, feel free to sit beside mui when he's doing it! you don't even have to bother announcing your presence. he knows you're there. he doesn't mind. mui is also a bit possessive. you're his sibling!! do not ignore him pls, he will be sad. probably clings to your sleeve, regardless of if you're older or younger. another one who will be VERY mean to anyone who harasses you.

giyuu is the reserved brother. he's another one you can go to if you need quiet time. he might offer to share food with you, maybe he'll ask what's on your mind. he's awkward with showing that he cares, but he really does! he cares a lot. he's like... the quiet guardian. he's nicer to anyone who bothers you, but he will confront them and will be very firm about it. he won't bully them back like sanemi or obanai, but he won't be kind like mitsuri.

gyomei is the father of the group. as the oldest hashira, he is the one that has to stop any shenanigans going on. you want to do something stupid with tengen? no. do not. you will make gyomei sad if you get hurt :c he seems like he would give really really good hugs. also, if you fall asleep on his arm, it's okay. he'll stay there with you for a bit, or he'll carry you to bed. he watches out for everyone's health and safety!

shinobu is the responsible big sister. she is ON TOP of your health and will absolutely tear you apart if you fail to take care of yourself. also she is SO mean LMAO... she bullies you lovingly. she also falls into the "no-one can bully them except for me!" category. if someone is mean to you? oh man. oh boy. they had better beg for her forgiveness. an angry shinobu is a scary shinobu. she can be very sweet, though. if you're having a bad day, she will definitely hug you tight and tell you it's okay to feel angry or sad (hypocrite...).

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

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wolfies-toys · 7 months

Text

it is finally time to post my backpack pattern! i've been meaning to do this for a while! so if you'd like to try sew your own plush backpack i've drawn up a basic pattern i've been using that should be easy to edit to suit whatever shape you'd like. Please note i'm a newby at making patterns that are readable to others so apologies if it's a little messy. This pattern is intended for personal use only, i would love to see what people make if you do give it a go! Pattern and basic walkthrough images will be under the cut!

here is the basic pattern! it's very simple and i've written some rough instructions onto the pieces themselves as well. note that the side darts on the front of the bag can be completely ignored if you like. it just adds some extra shaping but isnt strictly necessary.

if you want to resize it should be relatively straightforward to, just adjust overall shape and size to your liking, i would recommend printing out the pattern and seeing how it sizes to your plush of choice, this pattern makes a backpack the size of what twig the bright orange fox is wearing in the photo, it is quite wideset, and will fit most bears but will be a little wide for something like a medium bashful jellycat. for something like a medium bashful i would suggest reducing the size overall of the main bag and keeping the bag strap length mostly the same. please note you will loose some length in the overall bag chamber once the flap is added. the most important things to keep in mind when resizing is width and bag strap length.

first you will want to cut out all your pattern pieces, first starting with the straps, fold in half and sew along the long edge, then turn the resulting tube through.

once your bag strap is turned through position the strap flat down on the sewing machine and sew along both edges to help it sit flat, you can iron the strap beforehand too if it's giving you a bit of trouble staying in position. that should leave you with two flat backpack straps! if you dont want to go to this trouble to make the straps, you can also just use some ribbon or elastic and skip this step

next you will want to sew on the little bit of velcro to the lining of the bag flap. and then to the corresponding front of the bag both while they are not sewn to anything else so it will hide the stitches.

then if you have cut the darts sew closed the darts on both the outer front and lining front. if you havent added the darts you can just skip this step.

you then want to sew together the bag flap lining and outside piece, making sure you sew inside out and then turn through.

pin or clip your main bag chamber lining together, i've found if using cotton you will loose a little length on the back piece if you sewed the darts, once sewn you can just cut the excess off.

next sew the outer back and front together, leaving little gaps at the lower corners for the bag straps to be sewn in place, then poke them evenly through the holes and sew them in place.

Turn through the main outer bag chamber, place the lining inside, and fold the edges of the front together, sew the front edge closed, leaving the back open for now

next you place the open end of the flap in between the lining and outer back of the bag and fold the edges of the lining and outer back together with the flap in the center, pin in place but dont sew it up just yet.

once that is positioned you can bring the bag straps up to the fold and place them inbetween the flap and the outer back, and make sure they arent twisted. then you can sew it together.

you should then have a finished plushie backpack that you can decorate with mini pins, bead keychains or just keep plain, and fill with lots of treasures from your plushies travels!

#backpack #tutorial #pattern #plushblr #jellycat

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muzanswaifu · 1 year

Text

A Step Ahead - III

Part I | Part II

Yandere! Tomioka x Fem! Reader

18+

Previous Choice: "Sneak out and go for a walk through town"

This is the third round of the game. Census has determined that you shall sneak out of the house and go for a walk. Be careful of those around at this time of night. Tread carefully.

Warnings: Yandere, Crying, Mention of postpartum depression, Smut later on

It’s not like Mother could get any more upset than she already was…

You slyly climbed out of bed and made your way back to the door, carefully pulling it open so as to not make a sound. The wood creaked slightly making you cringe but hopefully nobody else heard. Shutting it closed with just as much care, you steadily creeped down the hall, tip-toeing across the floor boards as if they were covered in eggshells. The sound of laughter and talking could still be heard from the dining room, the participants oblivious to your current actions. Good. Getting caught now would just make everything more complicated. It would be better to get out and have your night of freedom then get in trouble later.

Luckily, your room was right across the hall from the backdoor, aiding your mission. It only took a brief moment before you were out and about. You’d only been inside for a couple minutes, but you could already tell the air was colder, not that you minded. The winter air was chilly and crisp. It hadn’t been snowing much lately but there was still a thin layer of white covering the ground, making a light crunch as you stepped. It would be nice to blow off some steam with a walk in this type of weather. Summer walks just weren’t the same.

Not many people were out either, most either out in the city for the festival or indoors to celebrate with their families. You were thankful for that too. You didn’t feel like talking to anyone anymore tonight. The village was small, but there was still plenty of area to walk. You usually just went around a couple blocks but tonight you were in no rush. Mindlessly you counted all the light posts as you made your way down the streets, taking note of all the broken lamps that were flickering.

Your tears almost went unnoticeable.

You didn’t even know why you were crying. Maybe you were just pent up from all the frustration. Why was your mother so rude to you? What had you done so differently than your other siblings? Goddamn it you still wanted a slice of that stupid pie. You chuckled a bit to yourself.

Even after you turned eighteen, she still treated you the same, if not worse. If anything went wrong, it was your fault. If your younger siblings misbehaved, it was your fault. If your father lost some money, it was your fault. She always had a reason to be angry with you. You didn’t care much at this point, so used to her blatant distaste, but that didn’t take away the hurt. It hurt to be so unwanted.

Your grandmother once told you the reason for her anger was the circumstances of your birth. Mother had been ill the entire length of her pregnancy with you, and the moment you were born she entered a deep depression. It was almost like she rejected you from birth. She never bonded with you, didn’t want to spend more time with you than necessary. For a long time, apparently Father was too afraid to even leave you alone with her in fear she would neglect your needs. You didn’t doubt the story for a second. It made sense after all.

You vowed to yourself to never bear such malice to your own children in the future, no matter what. The family you made would be one of love and care, nurtured and loved. You didn’t put it past Mother to cut you off entirely after you’d gone and moved away. In fact, you hoped for it. Your thoughts were interrupted with a sudden clash.

“-umph!”

You stumbled back, holding your smushed face in your hands and groaning, your vision a bit fuzzy.

“Wha-?’ You looked up and your stomach dropped.

You still recognized the scruffy hair and strange haori that you’d seen in the forest, a dark aura surrounding the man. He was much taller than you’d initially assumed, standing tall at just under six foot, maybe shorter. You weren’t very good with heights.

Despite the fear factor, he wasn’t very bad looking at all, in fact kind of the opposite. He was quite handsome up close, deep blue eyes that were so alluring and a face sculpted with fine features. He could be quite the lady-killer if he didn’t exude such a depressive energy. Maybe your judgmental ideas were the reason you didn’t have a boyfriend already.

“Why are you crying?” he quietly asked, his expression stoic and unwavering. One would have a hard time believing he had much sympathy.

“Oh!,” you gasped, quickly wiping your eyes and sniffling, you’d forgotten you were teary already, “I-it’s nothing, just… family stuff. Sorry, sir.” You backed up slowly as you cleaned your face, but when you opened your eyes again, he seemed even closer. Weird.

“Sorry about bumping into you! I should watch where I’m going,” you apologized with an awkward smile.

His face didn’t change at all. “It’s fine.”

You stood there uneasy and rocked on the balls of your feet, unsure of what to say at the moment. It wasn’t helping that he made no effort to continue the conversation, so the ball was in your court.

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genshinluvr · 1 year

Text

At Arm's Length

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: After being forced into a marriage with the twenty-five men— technically, you agreed to it, so you weren't really forced into it, you couldn't help but yearn for a genuine connection with the men. You end up expressing your feelings about your marriage with your twenty-five husbands to Lumine, who is also your sister in law.

Note: Short-ish fic for this week since it's been a hectic week for me ;v; Not really sure how I feel about this fic since I do feel burned out from not only school but from writing fanfics as well 😵‍💫 It's a new quarter for me, and I'm just trying to keep up with school, my readings, and writings. I don't think this would count as angst, but just to be safe, I won't be tagging people that don't want to be tagged in angst or hurt/comfort. Next week's fic might be either Tagic Outcomes or Caught in the Crossfire since it's been a while since I've typed something for those two fics. I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Would marriage count as a warning?

Word Count: 7k

This strange relationship you have with twenty-five men— it’s fake. There are no feelings attached, no physical touch or intimacy. No strings attached, as your world would call it. Usually, relationships that have no strings attached to them would be friends with benefits. You hate the friends-with-benefits title. It sounds depressing to you because it’s a “friendship” between two people where they do everything a typical relationship would have, only there are no romantic feelings involved.

You have been in that situation before, but it ended fast because you wanted to be more than that, and the person left because you broke the number one rule. Not to catch any feelings, and that is what you did. Oh, what a fool you are. How could you, a hopeless romantic, be in that kind of situation? You didn’t expect to be in an arranged marriage situation with twenty-five men from an open-world game you’ve been obsessed with for quite some time.

A stack of paper is slammed on the table in front of you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You look up at the older woman, who looks like she does not want to show up to work today.

“Please sign your first and last name here, and your… husbands will sign their names after,” the lady instructs, sliding a large stack of paper toward you.

You look at the stack of papers with wide eyes. These are marriage certificates, and you have to sign twenty-five pieces of paper. You turn to look at the twenty-five men standing two feet behind you. Pierro nods as if he’s signaling for you to go ahead and sign the papers. The majority of the men look uninterested, almost bored.

You swallow the lump in your throat and turn to look at the papers laid out in front of you. Marriage certificate, huh? You will be legally binded to the twenty-five men for who knows how long— perhaps until they all get bored of you and leave you one day without any notice. Just the thought of being abandoned so suddenly makes your heart clench. How did you end up in a situation like this?

The woman sitting at the front desk clears her throat, raising her eyebrows at you. “Are you going to sign the papers or not?” She asks with an attitude.

Your face heats up with embarrassment while you mutter an apology before grabbing the pen lying beside the stack of papers. You begin to sign your name on the marriage certificates. A marriage certificate is a contract, and contracts can’t be broken unless necessary. Well, at least that’s what you assume. You don’t have much knowledge when it comes to contracts, but a certain former Archon may know a thing or two about contracts.

After signing all twenty-five marriage certificates, you step to the side and let each man sign their name on the paper. Each paper is a marriage certificate between you and one man. While you’re technically married to twenty-five men at once, the marriage certificate and the government of the men’s respective regions (if they have one) state that you’re married to one man. Though, you have no idea how that’s going to work out since most of these men live in the same region as the other.

“There. It’s been done,” Xiao says, grabbing your attention.

You watch each man hand their pens over to the lady behind the desk. She takes the pen and begins to put the marriage certificates in a white envelope with gold borders. You walk to the woman, who begins to hand you each envelope.

You’re not sure how this works or how it’ll work. You weren’t prepared for marriage, nor did you plan on getting married so soon. The stack of envelopes in your arms starts becoming heavy the more the woman stacks one envelope over the other. While the envelope is thick and glossy, holding the stacks in your arms feels like lead. The woman puts one last envelope on the stack and nods.

“You’re all dismissed,” she says.

You and the men walk out of the building without saying a word to each other. I mean, what’s there to say after something like this? These men found you unconscious outside of Dragonspine. When you came to consciousness, you were met with various weapons pointing at your face. It took you a while to reassure them that you’re not a threat— how can you be a threat when you don’t have a vision or any weapons on your person?

Tensions are high, and silence hangs in the air. The tension is so thick you can suffocate in it. The sun is high in the sky, the birds are chirping, and the civilians are going on with their day, unaware of the situation.

You break the silence. “You guys are acting like I’m forcing all of you to marry me when I never brought up that idea. We can go back to the clerk and destroy the certificates if that makes you all happy,” you said.

“There’s no need to go back to the clerk to have the marriage certificates destroyed. What’s done is done, and you cannot break a contract once it's signed by the party involved,” Diluc says.

Archons, you hate this so much. You weren’t the one that brought the idea up to the men. It was them that suggested it for your “protection.” Ever since you revealed to them that you weren’t from their universe, they suggested that you should get married to them so that they can protect you from the Abyss and other potential harms that could come your way.

Because you know too much about what happened in their world that they’re unaware of, it was best for them to be betrothed to you to protect you and your identity. At least that’s what you were told. Quite frankly, there could be a better alternative. Still, the twenty-five men were adamant about the marriage option, and you weren’t sure why. You didn’t want to start any more issues with them, so you went along with their choice, and now here you are— married to twenty-five men.

A few months go by, and it’s been a few months since you have been “married” to the twenty-five men, and while you’re their significant other, they keep you at arm's length. Everything feels awkward between you and the men. They weren’t cold or rude to you. They didn’t mistreat you or make you feel alienated from the rest. You’re unsure if it’s because of your lack of relationship experience or if it was something else because everything felt awkward.

Since you are legally their partner for however long, the twenty-six of you need to put on a show to prove that your marriage is legitimate and not illegitimate. No matter where you all are, you have to get used to calling each other partners. They’re your husbands, and you are their spouse.

You’re going to be really honest here. It feels like you’re putting more effort into this role than these men are. It almost feels like you’re the only person that is trying to make it work despite how awkward it is. After all, it feels like an arranged marriage because these men don’t have feelings toward you— at least, that’s what you’re assuming. Since you’re not a citizen in Teyvat, you spend your time at the abode, cleaning, cooking, and watering the plants in the backyard because there’s nothing for you to do, really.

Instead of Thoma cooking food for everyone, you’re the one that does it. Of course, Thoma was opposed to it at first, but you insisted on cooking because they have jobs and duties to tend to, whereas you’re at the estate doing house duties.

You wake up around close to six in the morning to start your day. While you hated waking up early in the morning, you thought getting up before everyone else would make the men feel relieved in a way. After all, you don’t work or go to school. You could apply to Sumeru Akademiya and be a student there, but it would raise some suspicions, according to Al Haitham and Kaveh.

You’re not a fan of waking up at an early time, but ever since you and the twenty-five men have signed the marriage contract, you have been making it a habit to get up early in the morning to start your day ahead of everyone’s schedule. You’re standing in the kitchen in your pajamas, packing twenty-five lunches for each man. You made sure to cook their favorite dishes and include some snacks from the regions they’re from. It’s a lot to do, but you’re getting the hang of it.

“And we’re done!” You mutter to yourself, sighing in relief when you wrap the last lunch bag for the last man.

You yawn and stretch your arms in the air. You lined the lunch bags next to each other, labeling each bag with the men’s names on it so they wouldn’t mix up their lunch bags with someone else’s bags. That would’ve been a disaster if it did happen. You rub your eyes and walk to the stove, cracking eggs into the pan and begin to cook yourself some breakfast.

The kitchen door creaks open. You turn your head to see Thoma walking into the kitchen dressed for the day but with a bedhead. You crack a smile and look away before Thoma can see it. Thoma hums softly, walking over to where you’re standing.

“Morning, Thoma. I hope you slept well last night,” you said softly, cooking the eggs before you while Thoma dug through the refrigerator for water.

“I slept well. I hope you slept well, too, because it’s almost seven in the morning, and I don’t understand how you’re able to pack everyone's lunch before we all wake up,” Thoma murmurs, leaning against the counter beside you after grabbing a cup of water to drink.

You shrug. “It’s not as easy as I hoped it would be. That’s all I can say. Everyone has their likes and dislikes, and I have to make sure to prepare the ingredients the day prior,” you reply.

You look at the clock hanging on the wall and reach for the spatula. It’s almost time for everyone to get up for work, and Thoma is the only person that is awake. You’re not sure whether it’s because Thoma is used to getting up early ahead of every other man in the estate or if he’s used to waking up early because of his duties at the Kamisato Estate. But either way, you’re happy to have some kind of company, even if it’s short-lived.

“Thoma, it seems like you have yet to fix your bedhead,” the voice of the Kamisato heir breaks the short silence between you and the housekeeper of the Kamisato Estate.

Thoma laughs and rubs the back of his neck. “I tried to fix it, but there’s no use in getting it down when it’s stubborn,” Thoma sighs in defeat.

You continue to cook your breakfast while Thoma and Ayato hang out in the kitchen, chatting quietly near the island of the kitchen. You grab a plate and scoop the eggs, putting them on the plate while debating whether you should cook some bacon to go with your eggs for breakfast or not. The kitchen door opens once again, and more men walk into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep out of their eyes while muttering under their breaths.

You let out a silent gasp and smack yourself in the forehead, mentally cursing yourself for being forgetful. How could you make lunch for your husbands to take to work when you forget to brew them coffee and tea?! Dammit, dammit, dammit!

“Don’t hit yourself!” Scaramouche grumbles, smacking your hand away from your face with a small scowl on his face.

“Yeah! There’s nothing to beat yourself over. You made us lunch like you promised,” Gorou says, grabbing the small lunch sack from the kitchen island.

You sigh and rub your throbbing temples. “Of course, I would make you all lunch to bring to work with you all, but I forgot to brew coffee and tea for you guys,” you murmur. “Archons, how could I be so stupid and forget that?”

“You’re not stupid for forgetting to brew tea and coffee for us, [Y/N]. You were occupied with cooking lunch for twenty-five of us. There’s nothing worth beating yourself over,” Dainsleif says, walking over to the coffee pot.

“I’ll do better next time, I promise. My forgetfulness has caused everyone to be late for work,” you mutter, chewing on your bottom lip.

Childe throws his arms over your shoulders and pats your head. “Late for work? The clock just struck seven! If anything, we’re up pretty early, and we should leave the house not too long from now. Plus, some of us don’t thrive on coffee and tea,” Childe says.

“You do not need to worry about anything. You’re doing fine, and none of us are upset with you just because you forgot about coffee and tea. Plus, you cooked lunch for the twenty-five of us to bring to work. The least we can do is make our coffee and tea,” Al Haitham says, entering the kitchen with a peeved Kaveh following behind.

Kaveh stands beside you, crossing his arms over his chest with his chest puffing out. You look at Kaveh worriedly and lightly tap his arm. Kaveh continues to glare at Al Haitham before looking at you. You freeze for a moment when he looks at you with the same expression on his face. Kaveh notices your change in demeanor before relaxing.

Kaveh pats your head. “Sorry, [Y/N]! That glare wasn’t for you. It’s for that idiot over there with his stupid noise-canceling headphones,” Kaveh says, shooting a glare over at the Acting Grand Sage.

You weren’t sure if Al Haitham didn’t hear what Kaveh said because of his noise-canceling headphones or if he was intentionally ignoring Kaveh’s comment. You smile at Kaveh and pat his arm lightly before continuing what you were doing before the other men entered the kitchen. Once everyone is awake and ready for work, you pass everyone their lunch bags with their names on them.

You stand by the door of the estate and bid them goodbyes as they walk out the door. Some men pat your head on their way out, and others either give you a hug or squeeze your shoulders. Despite being married to them for a few months, this is the only kind of affection you were getting from the twenty-five men.

Just when Baizhu is about to close the estate’s door, you quickly stop him by grabbing his wrist. Baizhu stops in his tracks and turns to look at you, surprised and confused. You release Baizhu’s wrist and give him a strained smile.

“Remember to take your medication, alright? I know you work at Bubu Pharmacy, and your job is to take care of others and give your patients their medication, but please take care of yourself as well,” you whisper.

Baizhu looks at you with surprise before giving you a warm smile. Baizhu chuckles softly and pats your head, almost ruffling your hair. You laugh quietly and grab Baizhu’s hand, gently squeezing them.

Baizhu nods. “Of course, I’ll take care of myself. I promise,” Baizhu says, making a crossing motion over his chest.

Baizhu leans over you and presses a kiss on your forehead before walking out the door, leaving you at the entrance of the estate, speechless. You touch your forehead, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. You press your lips into a thin line to prevent yourself from smiling widely. You close the estate’s door and lock it.

Before you and the men got married for your safety and to keep Teyvat at peace, they promised to each other and to themselves that they would keep you at arm's length. You’re sweet and down to earth, but because some of them have dangerous professions and you’re not from their world, they wanted to keep this distance between you and them. Your husbands do not hate you, and they’ve made it very clear on multiple occasions.

“If we seem cold toward you, we do not hate you. We don’t hold any disdain toward you, nor do we hold any grudges toward you.” Cyno would say as he is sitting across from you.

You nod and dig your nail into the wrinkly skin of your right ring finger— a bad habit of yours when you were a child that dragged on to your adulthood. You usually dig your nails into the wrinkly skin of your right ring finger when you’re stressed, nervous, or bored. It doesn’t hurt at all, nor could you feel it.

Tighnari clears his throat. “Do you have any other questions?” Tighnari asks, gazing at you curiously.

You hum to yourself and tap your fingers on your thighs. “I want to know why some of you will be acting cold toward me,” you mutter, puckering your lips.

“To be fair, some of us do it unintentionally,” Albedo interjects.

You couldn’t help but agree with Albedo on that. Some men do come off as standoffish and cold even though they’re not. It’s how they are to people in general, not just you. For example, Xiao is standoffish, but that doesn’t mean he hates you or holds any grudges toward you. If anything, Xiao wanted to distance himself from you because of his karmic debt, and because you’re mortal and don’t have a vision, he doesn’t want to harm you in any way or put you in harm's way.

“Just don’t do anything reckless that could put you in danger,” Pierro comments, leaning against the wall.

You bite the inside of your cheek. You don’t think you can guarantee that— staying away from danger, you mean. It’s not like you intentionally dive headfirst into danger without warning! You’re getting married to Archons, Harbingers, an Adeptus, a Knight, and many notable figures of Teyvat. There’s bound to be danger in almost every corner now that you’re associated with these men.

The men stare at you intently while you stare off into space, gnawing on the inside of your cheek. That’s another habit of yours the men noticed almost right off the bat. When you’re deep in thought, you tend to zone out and are not aware of your surroundings. It’s almost like your head is always in the clouds. It’s almost endearing in a way, but your head being in the clouds could also be the reason for your downfall.

“What’s on your mind?” Heizou asks, leaning back in his seat while watching you closely.

You sigh and chuckle to yourself. “I don’t have much going on in my mind, to be really honest. But I do have other questions, but I don’t think any of you are going to give me a clear answer,” you said.

Kazuha sits beside you and gazes at you curiously. You clear your throat and look away, feeling heat slowly creep up your neck. He’s even prettier in person. You wonder if Kazuha knows how pretty he is because he’s breathtaking. Then again, the twenty-four other men are just as stunning as Kazuha.

“If you want, you can ask us now, and if we know the answer, we’ll tell you. If not, we’ll try to answer it when we have the answers,” Kazuha suggests, giving you a small smile.

You pursed your lips and debated whether you should ask the question. If you were to ask them the question, you worry you might receive the answer you didn’t want to hear. But if you don’t ask the question, you’ll never know what will happen or what to expect. Itto lets out a loud grunt and stands up, stretching his arms out in front of him.

Itto props his hands on his hips and gives you an encouraging smile. “Whatever question you have for us, I think some of us have the answer for it, depending on what it is!” Itto says, tilting his head to the side while gazing at you curiously.

How long will this marriage last? Is what you wanted to ask the men. How long will it last? A few weeks? A few months? A few years, maybe? How long? The time in Teyvat is vastly different from your world, you’re assuming. The days in Teyvat are much faster than the days in your world. You and the men never went out on a date to get to know one another or to form a bond with one another. Would the marriage be convincing because of the lack of bond between the twenty-six of you? Or, well, between you and each man?

“I don’t know if I want to ask the question,” you mutter shyly.

Venti giggles and trots over to you, throwing his arms around your shoulders and giving you a pat on the head. “It’s okay if you don’t want to ask the question! We won’t pry!” Venti says, releasing you from his hug before walking over to where he was standing previously.

Zhongli clears his throat. “I would like to remind you all that what we’re all getting into involves a contract. Everyone has to agree to sign this contract mutually. If one person does not agree, then the contract will be invalid,” Zhongli says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Right, you nearly forgot that marriage is a contract with the party involved. It’s not a relationship where people can break up and go their separate ways after. Marriage is a contract, and to get out of marriage is breaking a contract. It’s a long process, and people can’t walk away from it so easily.

You didn’t remember who proposed the idea of every one of them marrying you to keep you away from danger and to keep your real origins hidden from the rest of Teyvat. It’s strange to you that you have to marry notable figures to keep your identity hidden, even though that’s putting more spotlight and target on you. You don’t mind getting married to twenty-five handsome men but getting married to them so suddenly is something you didn’t expect.

“Are you listening?” Capitano asks gruffly.

You nod mindlessly. “I’m not opposed to continuing this process. I mean, it’s not like I have a choice, really,” you mutter.

“It’s for your safety. If word gets out that you’re not from our universe and you possess the knowledge of Teyvat, you will be hunted down by the Abyss,” Dottore interjects from the corner of the room.

You didn’t realize he was in the same room until now. Now that you think about it, these Harbingers are scattered around the large office inside Dawn Winery. You puckered your lips and leaned back in your seat, crossing your leg over the other.

You sigh and tilt your head back. “Is the Abyss really a threat to me right now? In case you all have forgotten, you’re all notable figures. Some of you are Harbingers and Knights—”

Diluc makes a disgusted noise.

“Some of you are Adeptis and Archons—”

Scaramouche rolls his eyes and pretends to gag. You stare at Diluc and Scaramouche blankly while the two avoid your eyes. You huff and stand up, propping your hands on your hips. You look at the other men in the room, who gazes at you cluelessly.

Kaeya smiles at you and waves. “Ignore Diluc. He was once a Knight as well, but now he holds a grudge against us,” Kaeya says nonchalantly.

Diluc rolls his eyes in response and glares at Kaeya from the corner of his eyes. You scratch your head, wondering how in the world this marriage is going to work out of some of these men hold grudges against certain groups of people, especially when the others are part of that group.

“So, what do you say? Do you agree to marry all twenty-five of us for your protection? This is also no strings attached, so you can do whatever you want without us controlling you. That applies to us as well.” Pantalone says, holding his hand out toward you.

You sigh for the trillionth time, staring at Pantalone’s hand. No strings attached? How would a marriage work if it’s no strings attached? There are many strings attached to marriages! That only applies if it’s a friends-with-benefits situation, but marriage? Does that even apply to marriages? This got you scratching your head because what?

“I’m not sure what you mean by no strings attached,” you mutter, furrowing your eyebrows. “But yes, I will marry you. All of you. Although I did not think this is how the marriage proposal is going to turn out….” you trailed off, grabbing Pantalone’s hand and shaking his hand.

Childe smirks, cocking an eyebrow at you. “Oh? Did you perhaps want us to dress fancy and make it special?” Childe asks.

“Yes.” you deadpan. “Honestly, if I was dating all of you and this is how you all propose to me, it would’ve been an automatic no,” you add.

“Huh!? Then what should we do to get you to say yes other than making it special?” Itto asks, giving you a look of disbelief.

You hum thoughtfully, tapping on your chin after releasing Pantalone’s hand. “Well, last time I checked, an engagement ring is involved. If we’re going to make this ‘real,’ there needs to be a ring, or else people won’t believe it,” you explain.

“Oh? Do you want us to get you an engagement ring?” Pierro asks, looking at you with an amused look on his face.

You feel your face heat up, and you look away with a “hmph!” The marriage is real, but at the same time, it’s not. Yes, a marriage certificate and license will be signed and given to the twenty-six of you, but this marriage is a loveless marriage. At least, that’s what you assume it’ll be. If you have to marry the twenty-five of them for your safety, you might as well make it convincing, right? Then again, you don’t want them to spend a lot of Mora over a ring.

“Yes, I do. I mean, unless people in Teyvat do it differently,” you mutter, stroking your chin. You shake your head and wave your hand. “You know what? Forget it. It’s not even a real marriage, so why should I want a ring to be involved?” You sigh.

Aether looks at you quizzically. “What do you mean? It is a real marriage,” Aether says.

“Not when the marriage is rushed, and none of you have feelings for me,” you mutter under your breath.

“Either way, the wedding is real because a contract is involved. If it were fake, the marriage license and certificate wouldn’t be signed, and it would’ve been more of a role play,” Tighnari interjects, shrugging his shoulders.

Well, Tighnari’s not wrong about that. Still, the marriage isn’t genuine between you and the twenty-five men. You shouldn’t be complaining when they’re doing it for your safety, but what Pantalone said really bothers you. A marriage that has no strings attached. How would that even work? You get attached easily!

“[Y/N].”

How would the men react if you told them you wanted the marriage to be real? By that, you mean you wanted them to love you as much as you love them. Is it too early to tell them you love them despite knowing them for only a short amount of time during your stay in Teyvat? I mean, you technically knew them longer than they know you because—

“[Y/N]!”

You feel something smack you in the face. You blink and rub the tip of your nose, looking at the item that fell onto your lap. A bread roll. You clear your throat and grab the bread, glancing up at Lumine, who sighs and props her head up on the table with her arm.

You put the bread roll on the plate, giving Lumine an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Lumine. I didn’t mean to get lost in my thoughts,” you said. “What were you saying?”

Lumine lets out a long sigh and leans back in her seat, staring at you closely while tapping her fingers on her biceps. “I was wondering how your marriage is going with those twenty-five men. Specifically, my twin brother,” Lumine says.

“Oh!” You look at her surprised, reminding Lumine of a startled fox she came across many times while on her and her brother’s exploration around Teyvat. “It’s… uh… it’s going!” You say, giving her a strained smile.

Lumine deadpans. “Listen, [Y/N]... I invited you to lunch at a lovely restaurant in Mondstadt so we can chat and catch up!” She leans on the table and looks at you worriedly. “You stared off into space for a while, and you look very upset, maybe almost annoyed as well,” Lumine says.

You gulp and reach for your teacup, sipping your now cold tea. Have you been spacing out for that long? You didn’t even realize it until Lumine snapped you out of your thoughts. You’re not sure if you should tell Lumine what’s been bothering you. Surely she knows the state of your and the twenty-five men’s marriage, right? Plus, it’s not like Aether would be hiding the truth of his marriage with you.

Lumine chuckles, shaking her head. “You know, when Aether told me he was getting married, I was genuinely shocked. My brother? Getting married? That’s something I never thought would happen.”

“It’s a loveless marriage, though,” you whisper in defeat, slumping forward and resting your chin on the table. “My marriage with these men is loveless. There are no strings attached, which I find odd because there’s no marriage like that! I mean… unless it’s an arranged marriage that is strictly business,” you mutter, pressing your lips into a thin line.

Lumine gives you a sympathetic look, reaching for your hand across the table, and gently squeezes your hand. “Have you expressed your desire of wanting the marriage to be real instead of it being an excuse to protect you and keep you within close range?” Lumine asks, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

You shake your head glumly.

Lumine looks at you with confusion and tilts her head to the side. “Why not? I mean, marriage involves a lot of communication, right? How would the marriage work out if none of you are communicating about your wants, worries, and desires?” Lumine asks.

“Lumine, these men barely show me affection as my husbands. They talk to me, yes, but it's always awkward between us when we speak,” you say, pulling your hand away from hers before reaching for the bread roll and breaking it apart.

“Sounds like you all need a marriage counselor,” Lumine says nonchalantly, leaning back in her seat with a sigh. “I’m no love expert, but trust me, communicating your wants, needs, desires, and worries will make marriage much easier!” Lumine says.

“The last time I did that, my ex laughed in my face and left me for my ex-best friend,” you deadpan.

Lumine blinks at you and laughs nervously, grabbing her cup of water and taking a sip of it. You lightly slam your head on the wooden table, causing the cutlery to clatter from the impact. You close your eyes and turn your head to the side, staring off into space.

Even if you were to express your wants, needs, desires, and worries to your husbands, you worry that it’ll drive them away from you. Not only that, but you worry that it’ll make them snap you back into reality— the reality that your marriage with them is loveless. The purpose of the marriage is to protect you and your identity from the people of Teyvat, from the Abyss Order.

While Aether and Lumine aren’t the Abyss Prince and Princess, the Abyss Order is still as active as ever. Heck, they might be out looking for you and either kill you for knowing too much information or, worst case scenario: make you the new ruler of the Abyss. You sit up and prop your head up with your elbow on the table, sighing wistfully.

“I didn’t think I would be thrown into marriage a few weeks after my arrival to Teyvat. Now here I am, a few months later, in a loveless marriage with twenty-five men who are unobtainable due to their status,” you ramble, rubbing your face with a frustrated sigh and tugging at the roots of your hair.

Lumine smacks your hand away from your head with a scolding look. You release your hair and let your hands fall on your lap, poking the inside of your cheek with your tongue. You don’t care that you’re married to the handsome twenty-five men. You care that it’s a loveless marriage that is “no strings attached.”

You close your eyes and tilt your head back, resting it on the top rail. “A hopeless romantic like myself shouldn’t be in a loveless marriage. I try to find hope in the littlest things, only to be disappointed in the end because I have a hard time accepting that none of these men will ever love me,” you let out a shaky sigh. “There are times when I question if I’m worthy of love because of how many people left me heartbroken. Look at me. I’m in a loveless marriage with twenty-five men who keep me at arm's length. They refuse to get close to me or show me affection. I don’t know how much longer I can handle it,” you murmur.

Lumine glances over your shoulders and then back at you, reaching for her fork. It’s supposed to be a day where you and Lumine hang out with each other. You did tell your husbands that you’ll be meeting up with Lumine, and they’re okay with it. Of course, why wouldn’t they? Lumine stares at you intently, biting on the inside of her lips. Your eyebrows are furrowed, Lumine can see the dark circles under your eyes, and the frown on your face has only gotten deeper. Dear Archons, how unhappy are you? You look like you’re barely hanging on. You look defeated and exhausted.

Lumine clears her throat. “I’m sure they show they care about you somehow, correct? You’re married, and while it’s not like any other marriages, I’m sure they show a tiny bit of affection,” Lumine murmurs.

You crack your eyes open and rest your chin on the table. “Even if they did, it’s not enough that is convincing. They have tried to reassure me they don’t intend on being cold toward me, but it’s hard to tell sometimes.”

Lumine raises her eyebrows at you and taps her fingers on the table. “Do you want the marriage to be convincing, or do you want it to be genuine? No offense, but I’m confused about what you want from my brother and your other husbands,” Lumine comments.

You let out a sharp exhale and bury your face in the table. “I want it to be real. The marriage certificate and license are real, yes, but I want….” You trail off, turning your head to the side so your cheek is resting on the wooden table.

“You want….?” Lumine furrows her eyebrows.

You sit up straight and scratch your cheek. “I want them to love and care about me as much as I do for them. Since this marriage is, according to Pantalone, no strings attached, it makes me feel like I’m not meant to be loved even if I do love someone or something. If that makes sense.” You run your fingers through your hair and puff your cheeks out. “That’s all I want. But knowing them, they will never feel the same way, and I need to accept it.”

You stare at Lumine, who looks like she just saw a ghost for the first time. You look at her quizzically while she slowly lifts her hand and points behind you. You freeze and close your eyes, mentally cursing to yourself. You slowly turn in your seat and open your eyes, only to see your beloved husbands standing there with their arms over their chests, looking at you with unreadable expressions on their faces.

“We need to talk,” Diluc says.

Your shoulders slump, and you nod. You get up from your seat and bid Lumine goodbye before walking outside of Mondstadt. Lumine gives Aether a look when he walks past her alongside the other men. The way back to the estate was silent, other than muttering from other men here and there. You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed and ashamed for admitting it out loud. Even if you said it to Lumine, you didn’t expect your husbands to walk up to your table while you were rambling.

Now, you’re sitting on the couch while the men are standing in front of you. You feel like a child getting ready to be scolded by their parents for misbehaving. You feel so small, almost inferior.

“Can you explain to us what you and Lumine were talking about?” Xiao asks, raising his eyebrows at you.

You purse your lips. “Lumine and I were talking about our,” you gesture to yourself and the twenty-five men in front of you, “marriage, and I was expressing my feelings about the marriage.”

“Care to tell us more about it?” Kaeya asks, sitting across from you.

“Do I need to explain it to you all again? I have a feeling that all of you heard what I said to Lumine before I realized you all heard what I was saying,” you commented.

Gorou nods. “That is true, yes, but we want you to say it to us. We are your husbands, after all.”

Archons, this is embarrassing.

“I…” You sigh, staring off into space.

You can’t say what you said to Lumine earlier today. It’s not like you didn’t want to. It’s because you have a hard time expressing your emotions and saying what’s on your mind.

You shake your head, burying your face into the palm of your hands. “Sorry, I’m having a hard time.” You whisper.

Aether gives you a sympathetic look. “It’s okay! Take your time!” Aether reassures you, sitting beside you and rubbing your arm.

“We want to let you know that we’re not mad at you for telling Lumine how you feel about the marriage,” Heizou says, sitting on the other side of you, sandwiching you between him and Aether.

You give Aether and Heizou a strained smile before looking down at your hands on your lap.

“I don’t know how you all feel about this marriage, but lately, I feel like you all have been avoiding me. The better way for me to put it is you’re all keeping me at arm’s length, and I feel like I can’t get through the walls you’re all putting up.”

“Like Pantalone said, the marriage is no string attached,” Dottore says passively.

You stand up. “That only works for friends-with-benefits situations. We’re married. Marriage isn’t supposed to be like this unless it’s a business transaction like those arranged marriages, but this isn’t arranged. It’s sudden, and I’m an idiot for thinking I’m strong enough to be in this situation.”

“What are you trying to say exactly?” Capitano asks.

“Am I really that hard to love to the point where you all keep me at arm’s length? If I am, we could just end the marriage and go our separate ways,” you suggest.

Al Haitham shakes his head. “That’s not why we keep you at arm’s length. You’re not hard to love. We do care about you, [Y/N].”

“Then why put a wall between us? I’m doing everything I can to have you all open up to me, but it's futile.”

Kaveh kneels in front of you and grabs your hand. “We put you at arm’s length because we worry that if we end up developing feelings for you, you will return to your world suddenly. We do care about you, and it’s hard for us to act like we don’t love you. We do, and it’s not easy for either of us to keep this distance.”

“I see where you’re all coming from, but we don’t know when I’ll return to my world. I’ve been in Teyvat for, what, a few months now?” You look at the men quizzically.

“That’s the unfortunate thing. We don’t know how or when you’ll return to your world. It’s a constant guessing game, and falling in love with someone and them disappearing out of thin air without warning is terrifying.” Albedo interjects, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“And so is marrying someone and keeping them at a far distance until they disappear! It’s almost a cruel and unusual punishment.” You retort.

“Would you be okay with us starting all over again?” Kazuha asks.

You press your lips into a thin line and squint at Kazuha. What does he mean by that exactly?

“We want to form a connection with you. While we treated you with respect (and will continue to do so), we want to treat you like our spouse instead of a stranger/roommate.” Scaramouche replies.

You nod, feeling your face gradually become warm. You continue to keep your lips pressed into a thin line to prevent a big smile from forming on your face. They wanted a fresh start. A start where they treat you like a lover rather than a stranger. You’re okay with that! In fact, you like that idea more than whatever’s been happening for the past few months.

“I like that idea.” You say softly.

Cyno smiles and pats your head. “Good.”

A fresh start with your twenty-five husbands. That’s something you didn’t expect would happen, but you’re not complaining. It’s better than having them keep their distance from you.

Note: I'm thinking about giving Zhongli his own collection of one-shots, but I'm not 100% sure if I should do it. I have a lot of ideas for this man, and I want to make it happen, but I'll have to wait a bit and see how it goes before I make it happen. I might make it happen once my spring quarter is over, but who knows. I was distracted by the new Obey Me game, and I was also farming for Baizhu. That's why the update is a bit late-ish other than me tagging people in this post. To my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for my Isekai'd!Reader one-shot series and my overall taglist: @yoru-trash, @kaoyamamegami, @kwelibeeery, @deartoru, @luminarymoonlight, @ins4nebish, @bokuto-kinnie, @exhaustedcommunist, @jadedist, @chalksdreams, @thelost-in-time, @ventisweetheart, @hispasian-otaku, @samarill, @kazuhaprnt, @lunarapple, @heyimkay, @milkpeanuts476, @eliciana, @jjvr4yxc, @sovermike-21-blog, @nightlysunn, @thelovebuggs, @urlocalheizousimp, @sunlightstarr (Accounts that I was unable to tag have been removed. Those who don't want to be tagged in certain stories are not tagged in this particular post. Remember to check your settings if you're allowing people to mention you/tag you in posts or not)

Read more of my works on my Masterlist | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

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sebastianswallows · 29 days

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The English Client — One

— PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: The year is 1952. Tom is working for Borgin and Burkes. He is sent to Rome to acquire three ancient books of magic by any means necessary. One in particular proves challenging to reach, and the only path forward is through a pretty, young bookseller. A foreigner like him, she lives alone, obsessed with her work... until Tom comes into her life.

— WARNINGS: none for this chapter, just Tom being grumpy and hating the world

— WORDCOUNT: 3k

— A/N: This is a fic that was commissioned by @localravenclaw as a gift for @esolean 💕 It's going to be a bit of a rollercoaster, with angst and fluff and smut galore. I plan to post twice a week, Mondays and Fridays. I had a lot of fun writing it, and I hope you will have fun reading it, my dears! 💚

Tom was twenty-five. It had been seven years since he graduated from Hogwarts, and just as many since he started working at Borgin and Burkes. Now, he found himself in a sweltering place with the world passing him by. Trapped, for his sins, in a moving metal coffin. If this was hell, it looked like rolling hills, houses nestled in the fog, narrow rows of poplars and puffs of grazing sheep, all set to the tune of clinking chains and carriage shuffles. He hated this assignment.

After taking the train from London to Dover, he caught the ferry that sailed to Calais, and from there took a series of coaches and trains meant to take him on to Italy. To Rome. They had just stopped in Lyon to pick up more passengers, and now they were on their way again.

He had fought with Burke regarding the logistics of the whole thing. Why couldn’t he just use Floo like a normal wizard? But the miserable old stoat said he’d sooner trust muggle transportation than Tom’s pronunciation of Italian or French — and besides, was Floo even networked all the way down there? It didn’t matter anymore.

Tom was convinced it was all done to save costs, and perhaps for Burke to not have to call in any favours. So off he went with one measly suitcase and two billfolds of franks and lira — all of which were merely enchanted oak leaves. They would inevitably transfigure back to their original form in a couple of weeks or so, but by then Tom should be long gone. Who said money didn’t grow on trees?

He tried to distract himself from all this misery by checking his notes again. His little book cracked open, snapping at the spine, and its insides were revealed to him like a cadaver cut through with a black spidery scrawl. It was a list of books and authors, with observations added vertically on the side to save space.

“The Secrets of Wisdom, N. Tamisso 1650 — high priority, any edition. The Lost Word, B. Trevisan 1661 — low priority, optional. Delomelanicon (or The Invocation of Darkness), A. Torchia 1666 — first edition, mandatory.” The latter word was underlined three times. His notes continued with the instructions Burke had given. “Check the rare book dealers, antiquaries, private collectors if necessary. If you can not find it, find out who can. If they will not sell it, take it anyway.”

Tom’s lip curled. Whatever joy there was in being away from the squalor of Knockturn Alley was soiled by what he had to do in Rome. It wasn’t the books he minded, and in fact, he quite admired Burke’s taste in this matter. But to be flung so far away from home on such short notice, and for such a length of time, was pitiful to him. The heir of Slytherin turned errand boy…

“Excuse-moi, est-ce que — Oh, bonjour.”

Tom turned his frown toward the sliding doors of the compartment, between which stood a young man in his twenties. Lanky brown locks fell into his eyes veiling the crinkles of a smile.

“Yes?” sighed Tom.

“I was wondering if this was free,” said the boy. And without waiting for an answer, he dragged his luggage inside — three suitcases, all leather with copper fittings looking ready to burst — and closed the doors behind him.

“I suppose it is,” mumbled Tom. He subtly closed his notebook and tucked it back into the messenger bag at his feet while he kept track of the stranger from the corner of his eyes.

The fine quality of the newcomer’s clothes was somewhat disguised by how carelessly they hung around him. His white and starched shirt was loosened at the top, revealing a hint of tanned skin sprinkled with sparse curls. A golden pin kept a red and blue striped tie affixed to it, and around his pinky finger was a silver ring thickly laid with marcasites and crowned with a malachite stone. His lips were full and purple-stained from wine. His eyes were a bright blue. Judging by his pressed trousers and clean leather shoes, he was a gentleman who had arrived at the station by car — or, at least, he was the spoilt brat of one.

“Clement,” the boy grinned, extending his hand.

“Tom,” he replied, giving him a firm, brief shake.

“I’m on my way to Rome!” Clement sighed, plopping down onto the seat opposite him. Almost immediately, he cracked open a cigarette case and started fishing for a lighter in his trouser pocket. His luggage lay strewn all around the floor, suitcases filled with junk, no doubt. “You?”

“The same,” Tom said and instantly regretted sharing anything at all. With people like these — the overly friendly types — it was best to not encourage conversation.

“Oh, magnificent. Vacation?”

“Work.”

“How sad,” tutted Clement as he popped a cigarette between his lips. He offered one to Tom as well.

“Don’t smoke.”

“Ah.”

He closed the case with a loud click and set it on the table between them. With a smooth, almost theatrical motion, he lit up his pocket lighter — silver, older than him, probably an heirloom, engraved with an elaborate floral motif featuring a fleur-de-lis — and let the flame dance on the tip of his cigarette until he was satisfied.

“Don’t talk much, either,” the boy chuckled. He kept his eyes on Tom as he took a drag, then started puffing away without a care. He attempted to blow rings of smoke but failed. “What do you use your mouth for, then?”

“Cursing, mostly.”

Clement laughed. “The same!”

Tom doubted it.

The compartment soon filled with smoke, and the narrow window open at the top only made it dance around inside. The muggy summer fumes were driving Tom to madness already, and he could only hope the train moved fast enough to clear the air. But as they went further into the rural parts of France, the scent of sheep took over. Maybe it’s not too late to try to Apparate directly at the station, he thought.

“So, what do you do?” asked the French boy, vowels gliding altogether in one breath between his lips. His arm extended elegantly to tap the ash into a cheap tray by the window.

It took Tom a moment to look at him and answer. “I’m in, er, publishing.”

“Truly?” he said, excited enough to lean over the table. “That’s magnificent. I intend to be published too.”

“Oh? What do you write?”

“Poesies.”

“Poetry? Ah, not my area, I’m afraid.”

“But you must know some people…”

Tom wanted to tell him that if he were any good he’d have found a publisher already, but intuition told him to temper himself.

“I might,” he said, “but I’m afraid I’m full up at the moment.”

The boy puffed away nervously as he tapped the round gemstone of his ring against the window, and kept his eyes on him. Tom turned to watch the view rolling past them, seeing without seeing. The sensation of being watched was as familiar as it was discomforting. It crawled down his thin cheeks, his narrow neck, and from there sank into his clothes like sweat. He gazed briefly at the tapping ring from the corner of his eyes in irritation, before focusing away again. For a few moments, he thought he’d successfully ended their conversation.

“Well, I’m in show business,” Clement said instead, grinning brilliantly. There was a gap between his first incisors that made him look boyish and pure. “Theatre.”

“Your parents must be very happy.”

“No,” he laughed. “Miserable. But,” he shrugged, “it is not their decision.”

Tom hummed and said nothing else.

“Your parents are happy with your job, no? You go on important business trips to France, to Rome, and… erm. Well, it is a good job, for sure. Makes them proud, yes?”

Whatever sunshine beamed through the window was chilled and clouded by the glare in Tom’s dark eyes. Why did this bothersome Frenchman have to talk to him? He wasn’t going to keep doing it the whole way to Rome, surely…

“I wouldn’t know,” he finally said. “They’re dead.”

“Oh… Oh, I am so sorry...”

“I’m not,” he mumbled. He didn’t think Clement had heard him, but he wouldn’t care even if he did.

The boy pulled the ashtray closer and put out his cigarette, then leaned his head against the glass. Fidgeting, he held the silver case in his hands and clicked it open and closed, open and closed… He did that for quite a while.

Tom could feel him staring. Could even sense to some extent the messy thoughts inside that head: curiosity, intrigue, and joy.

What could be joyful about that moment?

Well, if Tom was being honest, this wasn’t the first time he’d had such an effect on people. Memories of Burke’s clients came back to him accompanied by the customary shiver down his spine. Clement had the same flippant merriment about him that all the others did, those careless old witches and wizards. That unguarded look of innocence surrounded by the fog of greed. An airy absence of thought and feeling. Must’ve been the side effect of all that money.

Tom had once envied such people. Had even flattered himself with the knowledge that he, however distantly, was one of them. What greater destiny than to be born to glorious old blood? What greater tragedy than to be fallen from it…? He could even remember, with much clarity and shame, how he’d spent several months during his third year obsessing over the Gaunts and Riddles, chasing up on genealogies, and smattering the back pages of his diary with heraldic designs.

But the more he understood the upper classes — their uselessness, their inborn idiocy, their paradoxical sense of superiority which stood impervious to anything reality threw at them — the more he grew to hate them.

“I am sorry if I offended…” said Clement rather softly. “Sometimes, I talk too much.”

“Oh, really? I didn’t notice.”

“No, but I do, I do…”

Tom had overshot his subtleties, apparently.

“So you are not happy with your job? Forgive me for asking…”

“No, it’s quite alright.”

“A pity, you know…”

“Why?”

“To not like it.”

“Oh, it’s not too much trouble most of the time. Why? Do you like your job?”

“But of course!” he said, blue eyes twinkling.

Tom cast a scathing look his way. How strange… He couldn’t imagine enjoying any form of employment — other than the coveted post of DADA professor at Hogwarts.

“Why are you in Rome, then?” Tom asked.

“On vacation. I am, erm, meeting a friend,” he whispered with a grin.

“A girlfriend?” asked Tom with a smirk.

Clement shook his head and giggled. “A boy friend.”

Tom’s brows nearly reached his hairline. He’d never heard of such things being bandied about quite that openly before, at least not in England. Clement seemed not to care. Must’ve been a habit of his, as he seemed to not care about much at all other than enjoying life.

“You have a fun vacation ahead of you, then.”

“More than you know,” he winked.

Tom curled his nose at that and sat back, away from the whole conversation. But Clement leaned closer, arms braced over the table lazily, eyes flashing excitedly.

“We will rob this old fool, and run with his money.”

That captured Tom’s attention again. The boy was waiting eagerly for his reaction, and not a thought ran through his head that Tom might’ve been untrustworthy. Of course, far be it from him to ruin someone else’s fun, but the scenario Clement proposed was too absurd to be believed.

So what else could Tom do but laugh? The sound of it filled the cabin, and so out of use were those muscles that his cheeks began to ache. The sight of it seemed to delight young Clement. He leaned back and gave another one of his brilliant smiles.

“You can join us, if you like,” he offered smoothly.

“Sorry,” said Tom, his cheeks still flushed. “My schedule is full.”

“Oh, pity, pity… You would like my friend, I think. His name is Donatien. He is more serious, like you.”

“Is that so,” said Tom distractedly.

“By the way, what is your hotel?”

They entered Rome on a train that ran six hours late, and wobbled on its tracks, and stank of mouldy cheese and wine rust.

Clement talked most of the way there, and seemed to be satisfied with Tom mostly reacting with brief hums and tilted smiles. They even exchanged gifts. The French boy was enchanted by what was, in Tom’s estimation, a fairly average switchblade. He’d only taken it out to peel an orange. It was something he’d bought in London right before his seventh year, and although it was quite plain, it did have some delicate embellishments on its ivory handle of two writhing snakes. That seemed to appeal to Clement, who offered his own blade in exchange — a Swiss army knife that also had a screwdriver and bottle opener tucked in its red body. Considering it a more efficient deal, Tom shrugged and accepted the trade.

Faint details came up now and then about his plans with this Donatien, but most of it was lost in smoke and loud metallic rattles. As much as Tom hated flying on brooms, even he could agree it would’ve been preferable to this…

But at least he didn’t have to fear any Ministry or Aurors in these parts. Not any that were familiar with him, anyway. The Italians had their own Ministry of Magic, of course, but it was all the way down in Mirto, Sicily, and foreigners were a low priority for them. There were so many people from all over the world in Italy those days that it wasn’t worth keeping track of them all, or at least so Burke had told him.

The train slowed and pulled into the station, and pulled, and pulled… It groaned as if in pain. Clement took the jolt of inertia as it all came to a stop with cheerful clapping, and promptly got up to collect his bags.

“So, we are agreed?”

“Absolutely not agreed. Besides, I doubt my lodgings would be to your taste.”

“Ah Tom, you do not know my taste!”

“Very well, but best keep your complaints to a minimum once we get there.”

They struggled to get everything off the train with four suitcases between them. Tom was travelling light with just the one, about which Clement made some snide comment that he soon forgot, but he helped him anyway. His own belongings consisted of plain muggle clothes and some books that Burke wished him to barter with, if it came to that. Between the lines, and between Burke’s sparse and slimy brows, Tom understood he was expected to use his charms to get a bargain price — as per usual — but he did not intend to let some fat old antiquary put his grimy hands on him. Not this time. Besides, conversing with Clement had stained his dignity enough.

Being away on the continent had one advantage, at least: he was no longer under the vulturous watch of his employer.

Tom stepped out onto the platform, muscles sore from days of sitting down, and looked ahead as if he knew where he was going. People were chatting all around him, filling the cool hall with murmurs all the way up to its dome — some in German, some in French, others in variously accented English. Tom wiped the sweat off his brow with his sleeve and picked up his suitcase to follow Clement, who was hunting for a trolley to load his luggage onto.

As soon as they stepped out onto the street, the heat of Rome in August hit Tom in the face like an oven door and he, frail and pallid thing, was not prepared for it. He squinted in displeasure, to Clement’s great amusement.

“This way, Tom!” he said as he popped on a pair of sunglasses. “I see a taxi!”

Tom had spent most of the journey brushing up on his Italian with the help of a conversation guide he picked up at the Gare du Nord. His extensive knowledge of Latin came in pretty handy. But now that he saw Clement handle things, perhaps he needn’t have bothered. His companion could easily direct the driver to the dingy old hotel Tom was staying at, the Gallienus on Via Domenichino, and chatted a bit more besides.

“Vacation in Rome often, then?” he asked.

“I just know some phrases,” Clement smiled. “You don’t need much with these people.”

The driver pretended not to understand the slight.

“Where do you want to have lunch, then?” Clement asked.

“Lunch? I’m certainly not in the mood, not now.”

“Oh come ooon…”

“You can eat on your own.”

“We can leave our stuff and take the taxi to this place I know on Via della Mercede. They make the best seafood, the best!”

It had not been until now, with this journey to somewhere far away, that Tom realised how limited his world had been at Hogwarts. He’d once felt equal parts ashamed and at a strange advantage next to the other Slytherins, his peers, all purebloods, for knowing both the magical and muggle worlds. Now, exiled for this assignment among strangers, it seemed to Tom as if he were starting life all over again. He looked out the window and everything was new, everything was strange. The buildings, the street, the people, even the clothes were different. The city, like London, was massive, but the streets were broader, blazing white. Some disappeared into little alleyways that slithered like dark serpents. Tom could easily see himself getting lost in such a place.

It was… humbling. He didn’t like it.

#Tom Riddle #Tom Riddle x reader #Tom Riddle x OC #Tom Riddle fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #sswallow;fanfics #sswallow;made a thing #fanfic;englishclient #whew here we go 😭#I dread to think of adapting the masterlist for this lol #I might make a separate post just for all of its chapters #there will be 40 in total

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khytal · 1 year

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I’ve been meaning to write about this since ep12 aired but I haven’t had time until now. I'm sure someone's already brought it up by this point but I wanted to put it into my own words, so here I am :]

I’m gonna talk about the “plant song”, as it’s called in stampede’s soundtrack: an 8-bar motif that comes up in several songs in the ost (but I’ll only be going through 3 of them + some other things)

*I consider "common front"/"trigun stampede" to be vash's main theme, rather than "vash the stampede" (more on this later)

it's used (or not, in one case) in some very interesting ways, which have interesting implications :)

I'm referencing track 28 from vol2 of the ost, "plant song on erhu", as the base that I'm comparing the other songs to. aside from some stylistic ornamentation, it's just the 8-bar melody on its own (which I've transcribed in the above image). this is also currently the only version of the song in the soundtrack that features this melody as a solo, with no other instruments.

some notes before I get into it:

-for my sake, I refer to "common front" as vash's theme in this post x) I know it's a shorter version of "trigun stampede" (they're the same song), but the track title makes it easier for me to associate it with vash so I'll be using that instead of "trigun stampede". the titles are more or less interchangeable though

-the rests in measures 3-4 and 7-8 in the transcription for "bio-power reactor" and "common front" don't exist in the songs themselves. I inserted them so that the corresponding parts line up with when they occur in the plant song

-the excerpt from "bio-power reactor" is a diminution (note lengths were cut in half) to make the comparison easier to see

-in "common front" 's case, the transcription isn't entirely accurate but it's more about the notes than the rhythm u-u)b

-this motif is heard in more than just these 3 songs, but about a third of the ost recycles sections from other songs (ex.: "vash the stampede" is just "the jeneora rock resistance" and "trigun stampede" stitched together), so I picked the ones I felt were like "source" songs. since this is about plants, I only had to look for the tracks that were most representative of the twins and the plants themselves

-knives has like 7 different versions of his theme (including the piano/duet ones) but they're all more or less the same so. yeah. I referenced the vocal version in vol2 since it emphasizes the plant song as the melody, and has a slight variation

-I don't talk about the duet here since it's pretty clear that it's for both vash and knives, and it's just a fancy version of the plant song. not much to analyze about it for this post

-I did annotate the music I transcribed, but no knowledge of music terminology is necessary to understand it. it's all pattern recognition, and I mostly just highlighted where the similarities and differences were

-please don't take any of my interpretations as fact, I just thought it'd be cool to point out the motif. you're more than welcome to have your own interpretations using the transcriptions I've included ^^

okay here we go :)

-the songs are listed by how closely they resemble the original plant song, with "millions knives" (and any other related themes) being nearly identical and "common front"'s excerpt being something barely recognizable as the plant song

-"millions knives" has this motif everywhere. you could say it's representative of him being in tune with his identity as an independent plant. or almost like he represents the plants--oh wait, he does (self-proclaimed, but that's irrelevant here)

-almost every time the plant song is heard, knives is there/involved. prior to ep12's implication that it comes from the plants (and the ost outright confirming this), it wouldn't be odd to assume that it's his theme; that's how frequently it pops up. and it's even more obvious in the soundtrack..........except it might as well be his theme, despite its origins lying with the plant race

basically: *knives voice* my theme now

-even though "bio-power reactor" refers to the plants, their song is barely present in the track (it's heard at the beginning and end). kinda sorta makes it feel like a transference of the theme to knives. like the plants are just vibing (they are, mostly) while knives is taking the reins (he is, mostly)

-the reason the track "vash the stampede" isn't part of this is because the plant song is nowhere to be found in it. while it does use "trigun stampede"/"common front", it doesn't have the part that I transcribed

(if you really want to read into this, you could consider the motif's absence a reference to vash being more akin to a human than a plant. I can't say whether this was intentional or not though, considering "vash the stampede" is just a mix of 2 pre-existing songs and has no melodies unique to it)

[-feel free to skip this tangent: "common front"/"trigun stampede" stands out to me because the lyrics are more about vash than the track that's literally named after him (which isn't even an original composition for some reason):

"here I come, here I come any enemy is powerless in front of me here I come, here I come, keep anybody that get(s) in my way, away from me

get everybody involved like a typhoon pull the trigger, shoot down [on a/on the/'nother?] full moon can't you see what I'm [hiding/having?] in my hands call me vash the stampede, and feel love and peace"

not that "jeneora rock resistance" 's lyrics aren't about vash, but I think it's odd that "vash the stampede" doesn't use the lyrics from "trigun stampede" beyond the initial "here I come, there is no one anywhere who is a match for me"]

-"common front" is vash's main theme to me, since it references the plant song while also being about vash himself. it describes vash as he is amongst humans, with the motif serving as an acknowledgment of his race without overpowering the rest of the song (unlike with knives, where it's nearly constant and makes up the core of his theme. if this was intentional on the composer's part, it's very clever)

-the bit I transcribed from "common front" is from the part in the middle that features a flute solo (1:17-1:26; or 1:36-1:45 in "trigun stampede"). you can also hear this in the low brass around 2:27 of "millions knives", where it follows the same pattern as the section in "common front". it looks like this (written as it's heard, without the 2 measures of rest I added):

"millions knives" and this fragment from "common front" are both in the key of b minor ("common front" starts in d minor and briefly modulates to b minor before going back to d minor)

personally I like that knives's variation is grand/drawn out, while vash's is played freely. it highlights their personalities, though we don't really get to see much of vash being "free" in stampede

-there's a very short call and response bit in ep12, where vash sings the first 2 bars to the plants and they sing back to him:

nothing specific to write about here but vash's "La"'s in the jp dub are more articulated because of how japanese people pronounce the "L" sound; whereas jyb's articulation is much softer/barely noticeable (though he sings the 2nd measure with 1 "la" instead of articulating each new note. also his F# was a little flat but like. don't take that as an actual criticism lmao I just have a really good ear)

I don't know why the plants' responses are unique between the two dubs, but I thought it'd be cool to transcribe that part as well. the rhythms were a little hard to pin down since they're sung freely so idk if it's accurate but I know the notes are right x)

-I'm guessing the dub's VA for young vash couldn't sing the C so they cut it and had them start a beat later to compensate and match the lip flaps:

not a significant difference, since the altered part exists in the plant song so it doesn't stand out unless you're listening for it (like I was), but yeah. there you have it

(-I'm sure people know this by now but I figured I'd mention it anyway since I'm talking about it. the reason "knives" asks vash what he's humming in the flashback is because it was rem who asked him that in the original memory. the song seems to be something that all plants know instinctively, so knives should've known what it was. and this discrepancy is part of what caused vash to become aware of himself again......which means knives screwed up his own plan x)

(I wonder if knives will ever talk about what the song means to him))

-when vash is poking at the piano keys at the end of ep12, he's just playing an octave (between a low and high Bb, but that isn't important). my guess is that he's trying to play the plant song, specifically starting at the octave that ties into the triplet, but for some reason he can't get any further than that.

I think he's reluctant to hear the song of his people, the one that made up the duet he and his brother used to play; the one that used to calm him down but may now instead only remind him of what he did/lost. maybe he's trying to reassure himself with the song, and is unable to with the weight it suddenly holds for him

(side note: the duet is in the key of a minor and no Bb's are played in it, so he's not trying to play either parts of the duet)

-------------------------------------------

extra things I noticed that aren't very conclusive (so don't take them too seriously) but are still worth mentioning:

-these are also arranged from most to least similar

-........yeah I found the plant song in "tombi". the augmented triplets in the pre-chorus tipped me off. I'm pretty certain this is a coincidence though, since it's the only piece of the motif that I heard. I didn't look too much into it, but if "tombi" was written with stampede in mind and if kvi baba was asked to incorporate the plant song then. well. x) anyway I just wanted to point it out, coincidence or not

-knives's theme is here again but for the express purpose of being compared to "orphanage" of all things, because they're in the same key. this 2-bar excerpt plays from 0:18-0:22 in "orphanage", and it seems to be pulled from "millions knives"

the notes are split between 2 different instruments (3 if you count the piano chord reinforcing the A) but they form that exact phrase if you put them together and follow the main beats

which leads me to this point: knives's theme is in "orphanage" because he's linked to it through the eye of michael (again this is me reading deeply into the pattern, so I wouldn't say this was on purpose but if it was.....!)

-elendira's theme doesn't have the plant song in it; at least, not directly. she's actually the reason I ended up writing this whole post, because I wanted to know if the plant song was in her theme. and it's not. fascinating.

anyway this one's a HUGE stretch but I find it to be an interesting interpretation: the plant motif possibly being an inversion, as a way of saying she's neither plant nor human (as mentioned by dr conrad)

-------------------------------------------

that's all I have to say about this! I hope it wasn't too confusing x') thank you for reading, if you made it this far. the plant song is pretty significant in stampede so I'm really looking forward to hearing how it's used in s2 o)-<

(if there's anything I missed or if you have any questions feel free to ask!)

#trigun stampede #this is. a long one lmao #I never tag my rare analysis posts but I put a lot of effort into this one and I think it's worth sharing this time :')#(also please be nice I'm not the greatest at getting my thoughts across sdjkfhgskjdf)#I wrote most of this between the horrible hours of 2-4am so there might be some stuff I didn't catch #but I'm pretty sure this is everything I wanted to bring up o)-<#khyt.3gunposting

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blueparadis · 2 years

Text

▏drowning ▏pierro ▏

CWs— female anatomy, she/her pronouns, smut, corruption kink, sub!reader, use of pet-names, cumflation, use of sex toy, anal play, cunnilingus, mention of menstrual cycle; word count — 1k

PRECIS — pierro just wants to show you the greater pleasures of life other than doing chores for him.

NOTES — part of my self-event sizzling sextember collab. I was supposed to post it last week of September, but oh well. thanks to @luvbladez for beta reading !

⌗ tags —» @xshinigamikittenx @garoujo @munsonsins

+LINKS SECTION.

The first time Pierro laid eyes on you he knew you would be promising. With your growing body while others seem to work a week barely you endured the workload for almost a month. He thinks it's cute that you do the chores happily with a smile on your face, and take proper breaks if necessary. He is pretty fond of you, your organized habits, your manner of neat and fresh clothing. Sometimes, he thinks you should be rewarded but doesn't know how?

Sometimes he thinks it is your white innocence that makes him work overnight only to watch you getting all fidgety every time you try to glance at him. It certainly crossed his mind that you might like him, his presence around you, especially when he caught you stealing glances at him as he was buried in paperwork but he was not sure until you accidentally fell scattering all those papers on the ground, some flying in other directions and refusing any kind of help he offered.

He did not ask you again since he was unsure if he would have been able to hold himself back after accidentally having a peek of your cleavage. But a reflex thought crossed his mind: would your nipples be the same color as your lips?

He quickly cleared his throat and went back to his work desk while you adjusted your clothing to hide your modesty. He could not tear his gaze away from you that night. He was thankful for your white innocence that did not let you be aware of his intentions, his raging desires to have a taste of you, your supple skin.

Pierro was avoiding you since that day, he had to so that he could keep his cravings at bay yet he was not fond of the fact that he was jacking off thinking of you, late at night like a teenage boy. Fate surely has its wildcards since he needed to see you for fetching some special papers. He would have called for another one but you were more organized, more accustomed to his ways so it was you in the end.

He tried to keep himself busy, not to look at you but when your melodious voice responded to his beckon, something unleashed within him. “You called for me, my lord?”

“Y-Yes”, he shuttered, lending you a file. You inspected it carefully to know what he was looking for. And as you stood in front of the shelf, Pierro clenched his jaw while his fingers curled into a fist. You were just at arm's length wearing a light peach dress, and he was losing his mind thinking how painfully unaware you were that anyone could see your areola

He had enough of this. “Here my lord, the papers”, his eyes made up to yours. The pile of papers went flying in all directions as he pulled you against his body.

“Tell me you want this?”, he panted against your mouth having his arms snaked around your body. You gasped and breathed heavily at this sudden glimpse of hunger as he proceeded to make you sit on his work desk. “Do you want this, girl? Tell me”, he asked again. This time his palm was resting on your naked thighs illuminating fireworks all over your skin.

“Yes”

And in the very next moment, his fingers were playing with your pussy folds, eyes carefully watching your nipples getting hard at his ministrations while you grabbed the edge of his long overcoat. He could not wait any longer. Even though you were wearing the dress, his tongue lapped over your nipple while his mouth clamped around your breasts. “My lord, please ”, you mewl making him quickly pull away but he was bestowed with a raspy plea, “more, I want more of you”

That night, you lost count of how many times you squirted as he finger-fucked you. He did not want to deflower you yet, not like this. He wanted you to beg for it, beg to take your virginity. You wanted that too. You wanted to be filled with his cum, have his hefty cock buried inside you but fate had some other plans.

“I see.”, pierro uttered, strolling across his table as you told him that you were on your cycle. Now, violence was coursing within him, but he did not want to break you like that or give you to his subordinates after he was done savoring your taste. He wanted it all for himself.

Pierro handed you a teardrop-shaped thing and as he explained what it was for, your mind went foggy and dizzy. He was desperate to have you, to taint your innocence and so were you. It was indeed tough to work with that thing buried in your hole but you managed. You wanted to please him so bad, hear him say ‘Good girl as he plays with you later at night.

With the cool breeze grazing your naked skin, giving you goosebumps it was hard not to let out any squeal while having his cock deep inside your butthole. You were sitting on his lap, legs spread across his pelvic as your naked body rested on his firm chest while he was finishing the last pile of papers. Any little movement sends shivers of pain, and waves of pleasure in your clogged mind.

“I’m done baby girl”, he boldly whispers, adjusting you a little. He smiled as your juices soaked the clothing. His long sturdy fingers clamped around your waist as he guided you on his cock. You both wince at every move yet when he had you bouncing on his cock, mixed cum dripping along your legs he knew he had edified you well enough to own you like a fire owns a moth.

A month later, it became a routine. You were addicted to him, his whispers against your ears while his naked chest grazed yours. And Pierro? He was a happy man. Happy that you would come to him late at night, having him sheathed with your pussy while he finishes his work. He knew he did his job well. You both were drowning in each other's web of charms.

—

@tokyometronetwork

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silli---lilli · 10 months

Text

"I'm not hit."

Simon sees Johnny get hurt from across the field and goes through a range of emotion before getting to him.

CW: Minor blood and angst

Things were getting heated across the clearing and Ghost had that familiar tension in his chest. When the tables began to turn, he always had the urge to go. He was a sniper, on overwatch, his job was there and he’d done it well, but this was a precarious moment. He was supposed to be focused on the fringes to eliminate escapees, but instead he was watching his Sergeant struggle to fight off multiple attackers hand to hand. Gaz was somewhere closer. Ghost called for him with no response, so he sat back on his heels. He contemplated a second longer. A second too long.

Long enough to see a bullet hit somewhere in the mix. His perfect eyesight could see blood splatter on Soap, on his face and chest. And Soap fell. Backward, off of the ledge he was standing on like a dead weight, and by the time he hit the ground Ghost was already moving.

Something had been happening between them, roots taking hold in both of them and bringing life to something he couldn’t quite name. Simon knew he wanted to bring it up, they didn’t talk much in those soft, quiet hours but he needed to. The words were going to choke him if he didn’t. He needed to tell Soap what he was doing to him. When they’d arrived at the site, he’d already felt like he was too late and it bred a painful urgency in him. He needed Soap to get through this battle so Simon could get the weight off of his chest. It was selfish and completely necessary.

That hope dissolved into straight panic as he crossed the dark, muddy clearing. Gaz had gone to Soap, Ghost saw him, and dragged him to safety. He trusted that Kyle wouldn’t have moved him if it was dangerous to do so, but now he could see others crouched around him and Soap hadn’t moved.

Soap had gotten himself knocked out which was the easiest way to die, but he’d been overwhelmed and it was that or a knife blade. Gaz had heard Ghost’s orders to aid Soap but he’d been unable to answer because both hands where on the handle of a handgun as he took down an enemy that was basically on top of Soap. The man’s blood splattered all over him but not before he’d slammed Soap into the wall behind him and pushed him off the ledge. That, Gaz was too far away to stop.

But he got to Soap before anyone else did and noting the length of the fall and the position he’d landed in, he made a split second decision to move him. Price was on them immediately, and a medic, and Soap came to fairly quickly, but they kept him still until they knew more of his injuries.

Which Ghost couldn’t see, because the building that held the ledge Soap had fallen from exploded, temporarily blocked his line of sight and as it rang through his ears, he momentarily lost his sense of reality. He could hear nothing over comms past the ringing in his ears and his mind told him that the last he’d seen of Soap, lying still on the ground, was the last of him. He was dead when he fell, they were trying to revive him. Ghost couldn’t help, he’d be in the way, but now he wouldn’t be able to say goodbye either.

With every step, he felt like he left a piece of himself on the ground, he couldn’t hold together, he couldn’t move fast enough. It wasn’t supposed to happen that way, all of the years of training, putting strength in long, steady legs, he should have been able to get there faster. He should have left his post when the feeling first showed itself, he should have been there. He knew he shouldn’t feel that way, and all of it was crashing down around him.

The greatest mistake he’d ever made wasn’t staying at his post too long, it was letting himself feel something for a fragile human being. Skin and bones and no less destructible than any of them and Ghost had trusted that body to protect a part of him that never should have seen the light of day.

He had so much to say, so much to ask and listen to and he’d lost his chance. Soap was gone. He must be, he hadn’t moved, he was dead before he fell, Kyle hadn’t questioned dragging him away because it was just a body.

In the time it took Simon to get around the rubble to where they still crouched around them, he’d whiplashed so hard from deciding that Soap was dead and hoping he might not be that he was aching and panicked and he showed none of it as he slowed to a purposeful walk and approached their circle. Price stood and said his name, but he didn’t hear it, not really, he just kept going until he was pushing past the others and kneeling next to his Sergeant.

Soap was being put through concussion protocol as they waited for exfil, keeping still until they knew it was safe to move him. He could hear feet approaching them. He knew them, he’d know them anywhere, across any battlefield or quiet room and he breathed a deep sigh of relief. He had gone down, made a fool of himself and he didn’t know where Ghost was. He’d been alone, he usually was, but in that moment Soap wanted him there more than anything.

He relaxed as Ghost came into his line of sight, keeping still and looking him over for injury. He didn’t find any but as his eyes made their way back to his face, he saw that Ghost was looking around him frantically and not at him at all.

Ghost was unsteady, he felt frantic but he was trapped inside a commanding officer’s body and he couldn’t understand why no one was doing anything, Soap was hurt and they were all just backing away from him and saying nothing. He found Price.

“Where’s exfil?”

“A few minutes out.” The Captain replied, too calm for Simon’s liking.

Soap reached for him, Simon was nearly on top of him, like he was protecting him from another attack. He gripped Ghost’s arm and Ghost pulled it from his grasp using it to order someone to get another med pack and get back down there and help him and when the arm came back down, Soap gripped it again.

“Ghost? Hey.”

Everyone started backing slowly away from him instead of coming closer to help like he was ordering, begging them to do. Soap was still warm, they could still help him and he didn’t understand why they weren’t acting. Was he wrong? He paused for a brief second.

Price spoke again. “Ghost…”

“He needs…he needs…” He looked down so he could see what Soap needed and all he could really see was the blood all over him.

“Come on, Ghost.” Soap felt it, below the surface like a volcano about to blow, Ghost’s panic was radiating through him and into the ground around them.

Soap knew how it must look, he’d fallen and Ghost was too far to hear Gaz say his name and make the shot and pull him to safety. All Ghost had seen was Soap covered in blood and hitting the ground.

Soap began to push up on his elbows. Simon was still looking around like he wasn’t sure what to do.

“I’m okay, LT.” Soap said. “Look at me, I’m alright.”

“Stay down, Johnny, we’ll get you out of here.” His voice was gentle as he said it.

Soap searched for his dark eyes, desperate to lock onto them for a second, to let him see he was alright. “Ghost, it’s alright, I’m not hit.”

“Stop talking.” He said, and Price had turned toward the sound of an approaching helicopter.

Soap pushed up into a sitting position. His head throbbed and he could feel blood drip from a wound on the side, his only wound really. “Simon.”

That got his attention. His name in Soap’s mouth was a powerful call to the part of him that he felt slipping away and he looked, light eyes he could barely see in the fading light finally caught his and it was like his hearing had just come back as he listened to Johnny repeat his name and repeat the statement. He wasn’t hurt. He wasn’t hit.

“You’re covered in blood.” Simon said, so low he was unsure if anyone else could hear him. It wasn’t embarrassing to him, to be so worried about someone like Johnny, but he was afraid his reaction would make him look weak.

“I promise Simon, it’s someone else’s.”

“No, I saw you go down.” His fear hit him in the back and pushed him over the ledge again. He was sure he’d lost him.

“Here.” Johnny’s voice was low, too. He’d messed up, this whole scene was his fault, but he was okay, whatever Simon thought he was facing was incorrect.

He unbuckled the side of his vest with one hand, the other still on Simon’s arm. He let go of him, making him suck in a breath as he undid the rest of his vest and slipped it off over his head. He’d have to remove it anyway if they were going to check him out in the heli. It exposed his t-shirt, soaked with sweat and splattered with blood that wasn’t his, but he had no mortal wounds.

“Look, Simon.” He pulled Simon’s hand off the ground and put it on his chest. “Look, I’m okay.”

Simon kept his hand on Johnny as he sat back on his heels and took a solid breath for the first time since leaving his post. Johnny was intact, bleeding from a wound on his head but his serious eyes were steadily looking him over. He could feel his heart, just as steady beneath his gloved hand and Johnny’s grip was tight on his shaking wrist. The others left them, walking toward the location where they would be picked up.

Soap kept his eyes on the deep wells of Simon’s, trying to understand what had pushed him off balance, why he had felt so off kilter as he walked up. He attempted to judge whether or not he’d be able to look at him again, knowing Simon’s fear held shame that he could barely process.

“Johnny.” Simon said on another long breath out. “Johnny, we have to talk.”

“Yeah?” He huffed a relieved laugh. “Alright. We’ll talk.”

Simon slowly stood, getting his bearings. He wasn’t the one who had taken all the blows, but he’d still seen his life flash before his eyes. He pulled Soap slowly to his feet and let him lean against him for a moment, savoring the warmth of him before walking him to his ride out.

#call of duty #cod #mw2 #ao3 #call of duty fanfic #call of duty fic #call of duty modern warfare #fanfic #ghostsoap #soapghost #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap x ghost #cod soap #soap modern warfare #soap mactavish #cod ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost call of duty

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