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f0point5 · 1 month

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Give us some max/emilia post Australia end cuteness. Emilia misses one race and it’s Australia. Max dnfs. Ect ect

Or have a text chain of Emilia being a pure menace texting max all the innuendos and funny commentary during a press conference.

This is too adorable. I went with the first one because I’m a glutton for punishment lol. I hope you enjoy it 🫶🫶🫶

I’m only up when you’re not down

You don’t actually speak to Max after his DNF. Huddled into the small living room of your suite in Niseko with the rest of your friends to watch the Grand Prix, you’d felt sick the second Carlos had passed Max.

“Fuck, fuck,” you’d slammed your hand on the table so hard that your coffee spilled. You didn’t even take your eyes off the screen. “Shit,”

You watched him crawl towards the pits, smoke billowing from the car. Get out, Max, get out. You all sat in silence until he was out of the car.

When the cameras showed an irate Max talking to an engineer in the garage, all Stan said was, “he’s going to be so pissed,”

He was. You’d tried to call him but it had gone straight to voicemail, a telltale sign that he just needed to stew in the rage for a while. You’d sent him a message telling him to call when he could but he hadn’t. You’d watched the rest of the race just to catch glimpses of him in the garage, hiding his disappointment so well.

Later, he’d texted he’d managed to get an earlier runway slot since he wasn’t attending a debrief and that he’d be in Japan by late afternoon, so you skipped out on dinner to meet him at the small airport in Hokkaido.

Max and Rupert disembark from the jet still talking, and you can see even from twenty metres away the day he’s had. There’s a tension in his jaw, he jogs down the steps of the plane, pushing a hand through his hair, which is getting a little bit too long. He’s moving a bit too quick and a bit too stiff for your comfort.

After nearly two weeks away from him, this is the last state you want to see him in, but you can’t ignore the sheer contentment that washes over you at seeing him at all. You’re pathetic and you know it, too clingy and too giddy, and part of you hopes that in ten years you’ll lose this feeling. Most of you knows you never will, because it’s always been there. You haven’t always called it what it was, but you always felt it. And he did, too.

You can tell by the way his shoulders sag when he comes into the building and spots you immediately, a small smile on his lips as you hurry towards him.

“Hey,” it’s whispered, an exhale, the wind knocked out of you as your body collides with his and you wind your arms around his neck. He’s warm and he smells like the t-shirt you’ve been sleeping in since the last time you saw him. You feel your feet leave the ground for a second and you don’t even know if that’s real.

His gentle, “hi,” is said into the skin of your neck, and it feels like a jolt of adrenaline fed straight to your jugular.

“You were on fire today,” you say, fingers tickling at newly cut hair at the back of his neck.

Max’s body shakes with a laugh as you pull away from him, but in an unusual twist, he knots his fingers with yours before you can move.

“I was hoping this was the day you decided to skip watching. Sorry you wasted your day,”

You squeeze his hand to get his hand to stop his eyes darting everywhere. “I didn’t waste my day, Max. Watching you isn’t a waste, ever,”

You know he’s thinking it’s a platitude, that he didn’t win so he might as well have been at home and you might as well have been skiing. You want to argue, make him hear you. He won’t believe you, and by rights he shouldn’t. So you let it go, because you have no choice.

“Yeah, that was an incredible lap I did there,” Max husks out a chuckle and looks away from you. He’s joking, but he isn’t. He’s let it go, because he has no choice.

“Well, I for one am more excited about the annual Suzuka revenge arc. It’s incredibly sexy, and now,” you say as you lean up to press a kiss to his jaw, your free hand slipping under his jacket so there’s one less layer between you, “I can do something about that,”

Max only hums in response, his fingers tightening around yours.

“Not to kill the mood, guys, but I am, you know, here,” Rupert says.

You’re embarrassed to admit you’re not actually sure when he collected his rucksack from the baggage trolley and came to stand beside Max.

Max laughs, a telltale blush spreading to his ears, while you let go of him and open your arms to Rupert.

“I could never forget you, Rupert,” you say as you hug him, “I just like an audience,”

“Oh my God,” Max groans, laughing harder. He throws his head back, and his face scrunches up. He’s looking more like himself by the second, and you figure you must be, too.

You start to meander towards the exit, following your bags out to the stupidly large SUV with the driver waiting to load your luggage. Rupert wastes no time climbing into the car, while you and Max linger by the boot of the car. This is the last moment you’ll have alone before you get in the car with Rupert, and then Max is swarmed by friends he hasn’t seen in months the second you get back.

“Oh,” you slide a hand into your pocket while Max watches you in confusion. “Here,”

You pull out his Cartier cuff and hold it out to him. He holds out his wrist and you put it back on for him, preparing for him to make some comment about how it didn’t bring him luck this time, and how superstition is stupid.

“No more skipping races,” is what he actually says, and you look up at him to find him pouting. The pout is cute but unserious. His eyes, however, make it seem like he’s asking. “Crazy shit happens when you’re not there,”

He’s right. This is the first race you’ve missed since Singapore last year

You give him a coy smirk. “Is that your way of saying you missed me?”

“No.” He says simply.

You’re surprised when he kisses you. He rarely does when you’re not alone, unless it’s a quick peck at parc fermé. This is a kiss that has him pulling you almost as close to him as you want to be, a kiss that feels a bit like getting back whatever part of you he took with him when he left.

When he lets go of you, he takes a second to look at you before leaning down to press one more kiss to your swollen lips.

“I missed you.” He says, no pout, all promise.

It will never not be embarrassing that three words from this nerd with one hobby and abysmal taste in t-shirts has you weak at in the knees.

“I missed you too, Maxy,” you say, reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from his forehead.

You both take one more deep breath before heading around the side of the car, where Max opens the door for you with the hand that isn’t holding yours.

“Real shame that race got cancelled, huh?” You say as you climb in, meeting Max’s gaze with a wink.

“Oh yeah,” Max agrees as he slides in behind you. “Really sad.”

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine

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velocesainz · 3 months

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Le reali

(CS55)

F1 masterlist | main masterlist | Taglist

summary: Carlos hasn't publicly dated anyone in over 3 years and people get suspicious. He tries to tell his friends that he's dating the heiress of Italy but they don't believe him until a special moment.

Warnings: None, cursing?, fluffy

Pairing: Carlos x Italian!princess!reader

Carlos showed the entire text chain to y/n and as she scrolled through the responses bursted into laughter at lando's response to Carlos.

"Love, I wasn't pissed. I was just annoyed that he was feeding into rumours. Poor Lando must've been scared out of his wits" y/n told Carlos.

Carlos chuckled "Lando deserves to be scared out of his wits from time to time darling. How else would he function effectively and not spill our secret in front of the entire world?" he told y/n

"I guess you're right" y/n laughed.

"Amore?" Carlos called out to y/n

"Si, Corázon?" Y/n replied adjusting in the bed to meet his eye.

"Do you ever want to go public? I mean I'm not forcing you to go public, just asking. We've been together for 3 years now" Carlos asked with a thoughtful and soft expression on his face.

"Of course Corázon, I would love to. Do you want to maybe go public on the day of the Monza GP? I've already gotten an invite and will be giving out the trophies" y/n replied with a soft smile.

"That would be absolutely wonderful amore" Carlos said softly and held her close.

Timeskip:

"Ready to go sis?" y/n's brother asked her as it was time to leave for the GP

She was only going to go for the race day otherwise it would seem suspicious to the public and they wanted to be extra careful.

"Yea yeah let's go" Y/n called out grabbing her brothers hand and getting into the car.

She was more than ready to reveal to the world her relationship with the love of her life

Meanwhile: (Carlos Pov)

"Mate is your girlfriend ever going to come or are you just pranking us all?" Charles asked me while everyone was waiting around in the paddock for y/n to come.

"Yea mate, no shame in saying you haven't been able to get girls for the past 3 years. At least don't live in the delusion that the direct heir to the Italian throne is your girlfriend."

Nobody believed me except Lando since he's met her but everyone thinks me and him are pranking them together.

I would get my sweet sweet revenge.

But deep down I was scared. I was planning to propose to her soon. If I got on the podium today, I would propose and I've never been more scared for a race in my life.

Her entire family would watch me race for their country and would also find out about our relationship because she was very private and didn't share even with her family. Would they approve of me? Would they force me and her to break up?

Just then her family walked into the paddock and everyone immediately stood up and greeted the family but she was not in sight.

"So Prince b/n how do you feel about your sister dating our friend over here?" Fernando asked her brother and dragged me into his view

"Dating? I wasn't aware that my sister was dating anyone. That too with a commoner? Not expected." Her brother replied and my heart slowly sank to my stomach.

The rest of the grid came up to me.

"See Carlos? How would you be dating Prince y/b/n's sister without him knowing? Stop living in your delusion" Max said

"Mate such delusion isn't good for you at all. You should start seeing the team therapist a little more" Charles added.

The rest of the grid exchanged glances of amusement and worry while Lando came over to me.

"Don't worry Carlos, I believe you. Don't listen to them. You and Y/n have a beautiful relationship and she told me that she didn't want to inform her brother of her relationship status since she, frankly, hates him" Lando told me and I felt slightly better.

but her brother didn't approve of me, why would the rest of her family? I was internally panicking when Y/n's father King f/n came up to me and took me aside

"So you're the lad dating my daughter huh?" He asked me

"Si señor, I love Y/n with all my heart" I responded slightly nervous about his response

"She made a good choice, how long have you both been together? She didn't give me many details" He asked

"We've been together for 3 years senor. We met when I was invited to the royal house for my medal" I replied feeling better that at least her father approved of us

"And no proposal?" He said with a smirk on his face

"I was planning on proposing to her if I get on the podium for the race today and also wanted your blessings señor" I answered

"Good good. I've seen that she's been much happier around the palace ever since she started dating you. She truly loves you and you have mine and her mother's blessing. May you both be forever happy together" with that he left as I the race was about to start.

I gave Ricciardo my ring box and gave him all the instructions before getting into the car.

After the race:

I couldn’t believe it.

I had won in Monza.

The crowd was going absolutely wild as I got out of my car and the mechanics lined up outside tapping my helmet congratulating me.

I felt like I was in a dream.

I looked over to the vip box and I saw y/n in all her glory.

The look of admiration she had and her soft smile made me fall for her all over again.

That was when I knew nothing else mattered.

It didn’t matter to me that her brother didn’t approve of our relationship. It didn’t matter to me that my friends didn’t believe my relationship.

I had her and that was all that mattered.

The podium ceremony came quickly and y/n’s brother gave out the p2 and p3 trophies.

Then came my turn and y/n walked into the podium with the most elegant red dress I’ve ever seen.

She looked absolutely ethereal and I couldn’t wait for her to be mine forever.

She handed me the trophy and I raised it over my head after which I leaned in to kiss her.

The crowd went absolutely wild when they saw the scene.

I took the ring box from Ricciardo and got on one knee and I saw tears welling up in her eyes.

“Y/n. You have made me the happiest person these past 3 years and it would mean the world to me if you were with me for the rest of my life. Y/n m/n l/n will you marry me?” I asked her pouring the emotions out.

“Yes Carlos! Of course I’ll marry you” she said and hugged me tight.

I slipped the ring on her finger and we kissed once again.

Timeskip:

“Hey Carlos, sorry about all the comments we passed. We really couldn’t believe that you were actually in a relationship with the princess of Italy. We apologise for our actions” Charles apologised to me on behalf of the rest of the grid

“It’s ok mate, I myself can’t believe that I bagged a literal princess” I laughed

Y/n came back to me and it was time for us to leave.

In the car y/n sat leaning her head against my shoulder

“Our wedding is going to be one of the most celebrated occasions in Italy you know? They’re going to keep it as a national holiday and it will be broadcasted live on tv for everyone to see. Are you sure you’re ok with that?” She asked me in a soft voice

“Of course amore , as long as in the end I get to be with you. I’m ready to do anything.”

A/n: hope you guys enjoyed this fic. Took me a while to come up with it. Would appreciate feedback and suggestions. Also please send me any requests you have! Kissies ✨

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misserabella · 1 year

Text

new blood

ellie williams x fem! reader

enemies to lovers!

part 2!

summary; you had finally found joel, the man that had taken away your father. surprises show on the faces of his allies when you join them, instead of hunt them down for revenge, ‘cause you were already a prey under the eyes of your sister; abby. but there’s one of them that seems to take a special interest in you: ellie williams.

cw for this chapter; blood, weapons, chains, hostages, fighting, broken bones, threatening, mentions of abuse and imagery (abusive parent), drug usage (weed)…

REMINDER: english is not my mother language so i apologize if there are some mistakes <3 !¡ either ways, i hope y’all like it. <3

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!<3

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

Another day begun, and just like the last… you didn’t know how many days you’d been her, chained to this wall, but what you knew is that they all started the same way.

One, Two, Three Clicks, a knock and the door was opening.

Bright green eyes found yours, and as always, you ignored her, just like you ignored those who accompanied her. Every and each day they did the same. Came for questions that you wouldn’t answer. Came for something that you wouldn’t give them. How much would they keep you here? Would they get rid of you eventually? Would you rot here?

You kicked the still full trolley that they had left for you the night before towards the girl that stood at the front of the group. She looked rough, with freckles decorating her cheeks and a scar his right eyebrow. Her hair was up in a half messy bun, and there was a gun hidden underneath her green combat coat. It was cold. You could see it in the way her fingernails were turning just the slightest purplish.

The food spilled, and the water wetted her boots, but you didn’t care, she didn’t either. It had been days since you’d eaten. But you were clever. Who told you they wouldn’t drug you? Humans were scary, the real monsters in a world filled with them.

She simply approached you, boots heavy, a thud accompanying her walk as she threw something towards you as well; your backpack. You were quick to grab it, ripping it open and taking out your dagger under the vigilance of the whole group. She never stopped getting closer and closer —even if you were pointing at her with a weapon that you were more than ready to use—, until she had crouched down in front of you, bits of her hair cupping her cheeks.

“You’re not scared.” you muttered and the auburn haired simply shrugged. “Then unlock me.” you ordered and she smirked.

“How about a ‘thank you first’? If you can’t recall, I’m the one who told them to not shoot you.”

“Why would I fucking thank you? I’m chained to a fucking wall!” you hissed and she arched her eyebrows. Your grip tightened around the switch blade.

“If you kill me they’ll kill you.” she said, and nodded towards those who stared at you through the other side of the room.

“I’d like to see them try.” you smiled.

Two men and three women counting with this fucking asshole talking to you.

That’d be easy.

“What do you say? Want me to give you a matching scar on your other eyebrow? Maybe one across your neck would look good.” the girl simply stared at you, not even startled by your threat. Her green eyes never left yours, not even when she got up and gave you her back to get to the door. “Fucking let me out!”

But the door was closing, and you were left alone once again, completely trapped.

“Fuck!” you smashed the glass of water that stood on your new food trolley —the one that she had brought you for the morning— against the door, smashing it to pieces.

And that’s when it hit you. That’s right. You just needed to break.

“Okay! Let’s try this again.”

You were laying on your side when you heard her, the door opening with a creek along with the wood floorboards underneath the weight of those who had entered the room. You were giving them your back, trying to stay as still as possible, nor even breathing.

You didn’t answer, didn’t even turn. You were getting out of here.

Your lip was bleeding due to your teeth digging so harshly on its flesh, pain shooting through your veins.

Breathe.

The silence that came after that was terrifying, even more the sound of their guns cocking.

Breathe.

Something was wrong. You knew they knew. But they didn’t knew what exactly. So you had an advantage. You just needed to move your pawns the way you needed to and you’d be able to scape.

Steps became closer, and your breath almost hitched. Just a little bit more…

“Hey.”

You moved so fast it was almost impossible to follow, your body suddenly rising and swinging the chain that had had you captive for days. You dodged the bullet that her gun sent towards you and tugged from it when the chain had surrounded her wrist, sending her weapon far away from her reach.

You smiled as you pressed your switch blade against her neck once you’d managed to press her back against your chest, her hair was ticking your skin, and guns were pointing directly to your head.

“Huh-uh…” you chuckled, raising your eyebrows to the group that now threatened you. But you had now the upper hand. “I wouldn’t shoot if I were you. Wouldn’t want her to become my shield, right?”

The red head stood completely still, her green eyes on the oldest man of her companions. Bingo.

“Oh don’t look at me like that, old man. I swear I’m a good girl.” you pouted, still pressing the blade harder against the unknown girl’s neck.

“Ellie-“ he tried and come closer, but Ellie rose one of her hands, stopping him.

Ellie, Ellie, Ellie, Ellie, Ellie….

“Clever girl.” you muttered against her neck, and she hissed.

“You broke the chain?” she inquired and you chuckled.

“Not exactly.”

That when they all noticed. The hand that was holding the blade… It was broken, all bruised and bloody, shaking in pain but still ready to kill if the occasion called for it.

“You broke your hand?” the old man that had tried and step closer to help Ellie inquired, his eyes seeming shocked, even impressed by how far would you go to survive.

“Great, so the pops still has great sight.” you rolled your eyes, and he glared at you, his grip tightening around the gun. “You see… It was great. This whole cheap free hotel, nice food, comfortable floor to sleep…But I was getting pretty fucking tired of being your dog.” you shrugged. “So if you let me go… I promise not to bite.” you smiled, the threat on your eyes sending shivers down the spine of anyone that could ever lay eyes on you.

“You see… That was great.” Ellie suddenly said, and your hand shook against her neck. “The whole I’m so fucking crazy I’m gonna fuck up my hand and scape. But your plan is fucking stupid.” you frowned, but soon enough you were groaning when she suddenly grabbed your fucking hand and simply squeezed it, pain shooting down your spine.

In just a matter of seconds she had you pinned to the ground, your switch blade meters away scattered on the floor.

“You fucking bitch!” you seethed, trying to scape her hold, but she simply squeezed harder, digging her fingertips on your bruised and swollen skin.

“Oh, but I though the dog here was you, aren’t you?” your chest rose at her words, and before she could look away, you had spat on her face.

“Let me go.” you repeated, even if you knew you now were the one in trouble.

“Not until you tell me how you found us.” she answered, and you simply quieted down. “Answer me.” you cried out in pain when she twisted your wrist. The pain was making you see red.

“Ellie…”

“Shut it Dina.” she hissed, and you almost swore you could die when she banged your hand against the floor, making your head spin. “Answer me!”

“Joel!” you whimpered, breathy, sweat decorating your skin. “I came…, for Joel.” you muttered and the whole room fell silent. “And from that silence… I’m guessing it’s one of you, isn’t it? You two have aged since the last time I saw you… But I’d never be able to forget those names…” you smiled, and you saw her whole body stiffen up. “Even if it was years ago that he killed an entire hospital full of people just to save you, isn’t that right… Ellie?” her jaw tightened.

“Who are you?” the old man stepped closer, and you stared at him.

“Just the daughter of the surgeon that was supposed to cut her open.” you shrugged, and you shook when his finger pressed just the slightest against the trigger. “Woah, calm down pops. I’m not here to kill you, just to warn you that they’re coming after you.”

“Who? Who is coming after him?” Ellie inquired and your eyes were back on hers.

“Abby. My dear sister.” you scoffed, and moaned in pain when she tugged on your broken hand. “Fuck.”

“And why would you help us?” Joel spat, a visible frown on his face.

“Because you helped me first by killing that son of a bitch.” you answered. “And because she wants me dead too.”

You hissed and the woman simply sighed, finishing up with the bandaging of your broken hand.

“This… I don’t even have words for this. So you’re telling me that this group lead by… Abby, is coming after Joel to take revenge on him?” a man with brown long slicked hair sighed.

“How many are them?”

“About twenty.” you bit down on your lip when the curly haired tightened the bandages so your hand would be immobilized.

“Weapons?” Joel inquired, right beside the man who had just asked you. They looked similar. Maybe brothers.

“Guns, knives… Pretty much the same stuff you guys have.” you shrugged.

You could feel that pair of green emerald eyes burying into your skull from across the room, but you’ve decided just to ignore it and live peacefully with yourself.

“I still don’t understand it. Why would you make it all the way here to warn us?”

“I already told your, pops. Shit, you really need to check your hearing.” you rolled your eyes. “I’m just thanking you for killing my father that’s it.” you thanked the woman who you recall had been called Maria before when she had finished up with your hand.

“You’re… Thanking me.” you nodded. “For killing your father.” you nodded again and Joel blinked in confusion. “Why?”

“Why what?” you asked.

“Why are you thanking me for killing him? Shouldn’t you be siding up with your sister and coming after me?” you looked at him and then away, falling silent.

You got up from your seat and took your bag. They all watched you put your coat back on and push your gun on the back of your pants.

“Does it really matter? Just take the fucking help and try not to die.” you spat. It was obvious the venom and bitterness on your voice. “I’m done here. I’m leaving, probably to the other side of this fucking country to live in a farm or some shit until the day I peacefully die.” you pulled up the zipper of your coat. “I would say it was nice meeting you. But you treated me like pure shit, so I’d be lying.” you said before making your way towards the door.

“Wait.” Joel’s brother, now known as Tommy, interrupted your leave. “Why don’t you stay? At least for a couple of days, you’re safe here and they would find you. Once we take care of them, you won’t need to hide anymore and leave. At least let us thank you for helping us.” you stated at him, then at the rest.

“I don’t take charity.” you said. “I’ll leave now.”

“You really wanna go?” that was the first time you’ve heard her talk in hours. You could help but look at her, at her auburn hair, freckles and green eyes. “Since you’ve been in the same room for days, you might have not noticed the fact that we’re in the middle of a fucking storm.” and as if the world was trying to make a point, a loud bolt of lightning came crashing down the sky. How the hell hadn’t you heard those before? “And it will get much worse.”

You took a deep breath. Fucking hell.

After a few moments in silence you talked, sighing.

“Fine. But once it’s gone I am too. I’m not fucking staying for tea parties.” you spat.

And just like that, your cage had expanded from a room to the whole town.

Your hand hurt like hell. And you were fucking exhausted. But you couldn’t sleep. Wouldn’t sleep as long as she’d be there.

“Are your ever gonna put that thing down?” her green eyes met the switchblade on your hand.

You were back at her house, where Maria had placed you from the time being until she could find a clean and fixed place for you to stay.

“I think we both know the answer to that.” you answered, squinting your eyes, to what she rolled hers.

“Whatever. I’m gonna smoke. You enjoy your little psychotic breakdown.”

You watched as she made her way towards her side bed table and took a metal little box out of it before coming back to the salon, where the two of you had been sitting.

“Weed? Seriously?” you inquired, eyebrows rising when the smell hit your nose once she had opened the lid.

“I’d better be high if I’ll be sharing my house with you. It’s survival instinct.” she shrugged and you scoffed.

“Bitch.”

“That’s all? Damn, you really know where to hurt don’t you?” the sarcasm was palpable on her voice, and you rolled your eyes.

“Whatever.”

You two fell silent, and you simply stared at her roll the blunt with her slim yet long fingers, lick the paper to seal it and burn it just the slightest so it would have more firmness.

She took a big inhale once it was lit up.

You shrugged your jacket off, uncovering your shoulders and arms, more comfortable now on only your white tank top.

Ellie’s eyes landed on the exposed skin, the emerald shifting once she had took in the multiple scars that decorated them, along with your shoulders and back.

“Pretty aren’t they?” you sarcastically scoffed, and that’s when she noticed that she had been staring for far too long.

“Clickers?” she inquired, taking another drag of her blunt.

“My father.”

Her face fell, her breath hitched as you looked away.

“Let’s say I wasn’t his favorite.” you shrugged. “And that he was a fucking alcoholic with a lot of bad days.”

Ellie looked at you, silently, listening. She felt sorry for you. She never got to have a father, nor a biological one at least, but just to think about how your own blood could have done something as brutal as that to you…

“So now you might understand why I came here. How grateful I am to Joel for having ripped him out of my life. He saved me.” you muttered, still not looking at her.

Long minutes passed by in complete silence.

You two didn’t interact until she slowly but softly offered you her blunt. You rose your eyebrows before accepting it, taking a drag of it and slightly coughing.

“This shit’s strong.” you bitterly said, but still took another long and deep drag, already feeling slightly lightheaded.

“Why thank you. Appreciate it.” she smirked and your mouth slightly fell. “Best in Jackson.” you laughed at her confidence, your laughter filling and warming the room.

You offered it back to her, and as the time passed you two shared it in a deep silence.

Soon enough it went out, and Ellie got up, eyes tired and body heavy.

“Gonna go to my room. There’s more blankets on that basket in case you need ‘em.” you nodded. “Night.”

“Night.”

And with that you laid on the sofa, eyes unable to close. But it was okay. You couldn’t truly remember the last time your mind had been quiet enough to sleep. Ellie stood up all night as well. And the silence in between the two of you couldn’t be any more loud.

a/n; this has been sitting on my drafts for far too long. part two? 👀

ellie williams masterlist! <3

xxx

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lunememes · 1 year

Text

🌙 * ― 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 ( a list of kidnapped and torture scenarios of varying degree. from torturing for information to torturing for the enjoyment of it. for drabbles or prompts or both! feel free to change wording as needed! do not add to the list. )

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐃

❛ i’ll tell you anything you want to know, just please stop! ❜ ❛ i won’t break, so do your worst. ❜ ❛ you are sick in the head. ❜ ❛ when i get out of here, i’m going to kill you. i promise you that. ❜ ❛ they’ll come looking for me! they’ll notice i’m gone. ❜ ❛ i’m not going to tell you anything. ❜ ❛ i can’t — they’d kill me if i told you. ❜ ❛ who sent you, huh? who are you working for? ❜ ❛ i know what you want, but i’m not going to give it to you, no matter how hard you try. so do your best. ❜ ❛ i always got the feeling you never liked me. ❜

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐑

❛ don’t look at them, why are you looking at them? look at me. they’re not going to help you. ❜ ❛ you see, i had quite a reputation as the go-to guy. my job demanded it at the time. so I know where to apply the tiniest amount of pressure to a wound like yours. ❜ ❛ no one is coming for you. i made sure of that. ❜ ❛ how you come out of this depends entirely on you. so i strongly suggest you cooperate, for your own sake. ❜ ❛ you look so good like this, all tied up and bloodied. ❜ ❛ go on, scream for me. ❜ ❛ oh, i’m not going to rush this. i’m going to take my sweet time. ❜ ❛ i'm not going to kill you, but i’ll make you wish you were dead. ❜ ❛ give me what i want and all this can stop. ❜ ❛ ah-ah, don’t pass out on me now. we were just getting to the fun part. ❜

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐑

❛ don’t touch them. ❜ ❛ i’m sorry, i can’t do this. i’m going to give them what they want. ❜ ❛ nothing is worth losing you. ❜ ❛ I’m right here, okay? we’re going to get out of this. together. ❜ ❛ just hold on a little longer. ❜ ❛ (name)? stay with me! don’t fall asleep! ❜ ❛ you want me, right? so hurt me, and leave them alone! ❜ ❛ do it, then. i don’t care what happens to them. ❜ ❛ you’re worth protecting. ❜ ❛ just let them go. it’s me that you want. they didn’t do anything / they don’t know anything. ❜

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐒

[ CHAIR ] receiver’s muse wakes up tied to a chair and finds the sender’s muse sat in front of them, waiting for them to wake up. [ CHAINS ] receiver’s muse wakes up with their arms chained above their heads and sender’s muse is standing in front of them, waiting for them to wake up. [ HYDRATE ] after some time of torturing, sender’s muse offer’s receiver's muse a drink of water. [ DROWN ] deciding to switch tactics, sender’s muse shoves receiver’s muses’ head underwater to deprive them of oxygen. [ BRAND ] sender’s muse burns receiver’s muse with a hot iron. [ ELECTRIC ] sender’s muse electrocutes receiver’s muse. [ STRUGGLE ] with receiver's muse struggling against sender’s muse, sender’s muse hurts them to put them back in their place [ WAKE UP ] just as receiver’s muse falls asleep, sender’s muse pours cold water over them. [ CLEAN UP ] stuck in the same scenario, sender’s muse helps to clean to receiver’s muse’s wounds. [ BREAK OUT ] it’s been some time but the captive has finally broken free. receiver’s muse gets some revenge on sender’s muse.

#dark prompts #torture prompts #kidnapped prompts #rp meme #rp memes #rp prompt #rp prompts #inbox meme #sentence meme #prompt meme

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heretherebedork · 8 months

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I am thinking a lot about how Ai Di is wearing a collar and a chain and a rainbow sweater while he declares his love for Chenyi and acts on his love in a moment that he knows is wrong but also believes is the end to everything they've ever had because his true final act of love is to leave. His final act of love is to leave Chenyi behind after doing something unforgivable.

(The embrace, the colors around them and on their skin, etched into them, becoming part of them. That Ai Di is still wearing red pants in this scene and then wearing red pants when he gets out of prison and it's the same thing, it's chaos and brilliance and love and knowing that he cannot have what he wants or wishes and then he cries onto Chenyi and it's only when he cries that Chenyi comes to life because he is crying for both of them and for what he's doing and for the future he can never have and for their brotherhood that he feels he's betrayed for his love.)

Still in rainbows. Still in his collar and his chain. And now he's giving up his life for the sake of letting Chenyi be free, of giving him freedom and of knowing that what he did when he was drunk was wrong.

It's a repayment that means it's all over, this is the end for Ai Di because he cannot forgive himself and he cannot get over his love and he can never, ever ask Chenyi to forgive him for what he did and so he is going to renounce every single bit of it, he's doing to let go of every single thing that shaped him and become whoever he is meant to be without that.

Ai Di loves Chenyi and believes that Chenyi could never love him back except as brothers and so he cannot do anything except try to give up. Try to move on. And he expects Chenyi to do the same thing. He expects Chenyi to say good riddance to him.

But isntead Chenyi shows up to take him back and doesn't take no for an answered, doesn't stop, just grabs him and picks him up again and again and takes him away with him because for Chenyi he's had four years to wonder and four years to change and four years of wanting to understand.

So much black and Ai Di is a brilliant pop of color in the middle. He is always the pop of color in the darkness and even in the sunlight he stands out so much, so bright and brilliant and present.

(Chenyi wants to know so much and cannot let go and he loves Ai Di but now he has to convince him to come back to him because they've each had four years to consider the future and make choices and they made very different choices.)

Chenyi made Ai Di bright and spicy food, all the colors and all the heat because he needs to know but also because he loves. Chenyi has missed his bright colors and everything Ai Di brings to his life.

(Ai Di assumes every question Chenyi asks is about sex but I think, frankly, Chenyi is asking more about why he left than why they fucked. Because he has spent four years worrying and missing and loving and he doesn't want to keep doing that. He wants to know why Ai Di did that and then left him.

Because Ai Di was never supposed to leave him.)

The shock on his face when Ai Di mentioned the idea of revenge, like it never even crossed his mind? Because it probably never did.

Ai Di went to prison but he want to go take care of Zongyi and look out for his friend. But Chenyi stayed on the outside and he realized that he wasn't in love with the man he thought he was, that he loved the one person who had left him, the one person who left him after he said he never would.

(Tiny note, the red on his shirt is over his stomach and the first thing he does is try to win Ai Di's heart through his stomach and @respectthepetty I am thinking far, far too deeply.)

Bright lights and lots of color all around them but, in this shot, they're both in black and the light barely touches them. The light is pure white and brilliant and it's blinding. They're trapped in that light, too seen and yet unable to see.

Chenyi is trying so hard not to let go, to keep Ai Di, to give him every excuse in the book to stay and I think that if Ai Di just stopped trying to leave Chenyi would accept anything he said because he doesn't know how to let go.

And the most heartbroken face when Chenyi pulls away from him again, when he leaves again, when he refuses to explain anything or to stay with him and just keeps trying to get away from him because he truly believes that Chenyi shouldn't forgive him for what he did and that there's no way Chenyi loves him or ever loved him that way he loves him.

But Ai Di in blue? Already got his hair back to blonde but he's still in blue and Chenyi is in black and white but the lights around them are red again, lighting them both the same way.

They need to communicate but neither of them knows how because they've spent a lifetime communicating without having to talk and now they need to actually talk.

They were brothers. They relied on each other. They knew each other so well they could fight without even looking. All their communication was natural and now they need to fight that and actually speak to each other, to understand each other, to make themselves be vulnerable because that is the only way they can get past this.

They can do it. The red light promises that they can. But right now they're on very, very different pages.

#kiseki: dear to me #kdtm #chen yi x ai di #ai di #ai di x chen yi #bl drama #bl series #asianlgbtqdramas #asian lgbtq dramas #taiwanese bl #taiwan bl #taiwanese drama #taiwan drama #taiwanese series #kiseki dear to me #taiwanese bl series #taiwanese bl drama #i love them so much

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minhosimthings · 5 months

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Oh my god you keep doing my asks!! Even my anonymous ones (which you often think is yuna) so thank you!!! 💗🎀🩰

This time I want to request enhypen reaction to their fellow members/ friends getting too touchy with you

WAIT THAT WAS YOU? damn I feel bad about my baby @yunabi436 who should definitely read this as revenge for making me cry with 4278. Thank you for the ideas darling! Im sorry I'm a bit slow on answering them though!

Jealousy resides in Heeseung's veins. So when his eyes and his mind processed the fact that Jake had his arm around your shoulder, and you were laughing to his joke, all he saw was red. So he'd act cute at first, hooking into your arm and giving you the Bambi eyes and saying he wants to go home, which makes you bid goodbye to poor, confused, Jake who is wondering why Heeseung shot a glare at him. But at home-

"So you want Jake for a boyfriend now do you? Got bored of one dick, now you want two darling?" You'd have no warning, before your back is against the wall, and his dick is rubbing against your pussy, making you whimper pathetically at the friction. Heeseung, when jealous, doesn't waste time in stretching you out. Instead all he does, is rip open your panties, take a moment to stare at your pussy, and then ram his length into you, making you moan, out of both pain and pleasure.

"Don't you ever do that again, you hear me?" He'd growl in your ear, while moving his hips against you at an extremely rough pace. His dick rubbed against your g-spot so well, and the overstimulation from him not allowing you to cum was killing you, but Heeseung wouldn't budge.

Jay knows that you are a person of your own and you can do whatever you like. But a certain amount of jealousy did arise in him, when he saw that Sunghoon and you were sitting perhaps a little too close to each other and sharing a tiramisu too! The jealousy wasn't enough for him to drag you out by the arm or anything, but it was enough for him to ask for a bite of the tiramisu. Right in front of Sunghoon. You, oblivious to his motive, fed it to him, laughing at how Sunghoon comedicaly pouted. You could sense Jay turning red next to you, so you decide to tease him a bit. And then back at home-

"Uh uh no cumming until I say so." Jay had been inside your pussy with a vibrator for a long time, pounding it by pressing his hand deeper and deeper. His trousers and shirt remained stuck tightly to him, making you crave his dick more. "Jay-please ah-ahh." You'd scream making him smirk at you, and increase the speed of the vibrator a bit more. The cold material was making your pussy clench around it, wishing fervently that it was his dick instead.

"You should have thought about begging for my cock before cuddling with Sunghoon." He'd growl in your ear, stopping the vibrator just as you were about to cum, you whimpered feeling the tight knot in your stomach disappear, in turn making Jay smirk against your skin.

Collars were never much Jake's buisness. He actually hated them. He would never hurt his baby just for his own pleasure, if and unless she asked him too. But when Heeseung jokingly kissed you on the cheek for a dare and you giggled, your cheeks turning red, all Jake saw was you in a collar with the chain twisted inbetween his hands.

"Who do you want to fuck now darling?" Jake pulled on the chain of the collar, his cock moving in and out of your pussy. You were suffocated yet high on his touch on your throat. "You- only you ahh fuck Jake!" You screamed, as Jake abused your sweet spot with his tip. "Oh no I thought it was Heeseung." He growled, pulling out his length before ramming it in again, pain flowing through you like a soothing tonic.

Jake tugged slightly on the chain again, and watched in pleasure as you writhed under him, how your thighs were smeared with sweet cum, and how your pussy was taking his dick so well even now. He'd remind you again, on how you belonged to him, and only him.

Park Sunghoon. Aka probably the only one out of the entire hyung line who'd not even let himself near you for a whole year if you even shake hands with one of the members. And Jay accidentally brushing his hand across yours when he's reaching across to get some fruit is basically the end game for Sunghoon. Sunghoon will probably give Jay a piece of his mind in secret to which Jay would ask you whether or not Sunghoon is an absolute simp in secret. And Sunghoon would be almost restraining himself from fucking you on the dinner table.

However he does very sneakily slide his hand up your thigh and massage it a bit too close to your pussy, making you squirm in silence. He would even go as far as fucking you in silence when you guys were watching a movie on the couch with the guys and their girlfriends. He would definitely ask for a blanket from Jay, feigning chilliness and sneak his fingers up towards your panties. The feeling of him cupping your clothed pussy has you whimpering, so you violently stuff some popcorn in your mouth to shush yourself, earning yourself a side eye from Jay and Sunghoon's fingers running through your folds at a maniacal pace.

"You can moan darling." Sunghoon would whisper in your ear, his middle finger repeatedly touching your g spot, "Make them know that you're mine yeah?"

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gav-san · 8 months

Text

Cursed | Sukuna x reader

Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna / Fem Reader

Length: One-Shot

Summary: The greatest punishment in this life wasn't your brother Gojo Satoru embarrassing you into leaving Sorcery.

It was what happened when he was gone.

Warnings: Blood, Gore, Sexual Violence, Inferred Violence, Inferred Assault

You remember the day Gojo told you that you would never make it as a sorcerer.

The day you graduated from Jujutsu High School your arrogant older brother wrapped a hand over your shoulder and told you that you had less talent than the first years, and he wouldn’t allow you to be anything more than a third-grade sorcerer.

Of course, he did it at the podium, in front of everyone there.

You had ripped off the slim golden necklace he and Geto had bought you, but you could never bear to trash it entirely.

That was also the day you refused to speak to him again. But you soon found he was good as his word, and any attempt to do any sorcery was blocked at every angle. After all, who would openly disagree with the master of the Six Eyes and Infinity?

You were more or less exiled from the entire society of arrogant jujitsu sorcerers, forced to go to the nearby college and turn into a glorified secretary for the high school. He tried to rebuild your relationship, but it was never the same.

It took you years to understand why he would hurt his only sibling that deeply. It wasn’t until he was dead that you understood how much he was willing to sacrifice for your well-being.

You were the number one target of all Satoru Gojo’s enemies, and revenge came swiftly.

The clinking of the chains could almost sound like that piece of jewelry, lost in the rubble of your apartment if you imagined hard enough.

And all you had was time to try and imagine that you were anywhere but here, locked to the throne at the feet of the King of Curses.

You could hardly bear to watch as people were brought in, some more chained than you, dangerous perhaps. You wondered if their collars had been crafted to deaden cursed energy as yours had. Not that Sukuna thought you were any threat, but he disliked ‘swatting at flies’.

When you had first been captured, after everything had gone to hell, you had hoped that there was someone, anyone, who had the power and strength to end Sukuna, but nothing came close to his power.

Even Gojo Satoru had fallen, taking hope with him.

Now Men, Women, and children, all met the same fate if they did not kneel and give reverence to the great Ryomen Sukuna.

And even that was not always enough.

Blood spattered the marble floors of the shrine, and you swear that over time it’s taken on a pink hue. The room fills with lesser curses who clean the blood with their grotesque mouths, and Urame carts away choice bits for Sukuna's later pleasure.

You screwed your mouth shut as people cried to you, mistaking your position as something other than a slave for Sukuna to torture.

As the last of the Gojo line, you weren't above holding you responsible for a century-long grudge. Any pleading from your lips only made his rampage worse.

Any attempt to flee into your head was met with a violent tug on your throat.

There was no turning away, not when your master held the deceptively delicate chain around your neck, yanking whenever he thought you weren’t paying enough attention.

He loved to see you cry in pain, and you hadn’t the ability to stop, especially for those young ones who were cut down.

And it was almost certain that after witnessing another moment of terrible brutality you’d somehow forget your head, turning upon him and glaring like a feral animal, yanking the chain away so you could hurt him, just once.

But you would only be met with the face of the wolf.

His teeth clenched in a wide smile, he’d return a smirk so vile, that he specifically reserved for the moments you spit venom. He loved to see you struggle, but trying to bite back always ended poorly.

Ryomen Sukuna was not a kind master.

And though he certainly thought of you like a pet, he wasn’t below forcing your head under his foot, smushing your entire face in the remains of corpses. If you dared throw up, you still stayed and were unable to leave until you wiped it up with your ragged robes that had gone thin from wear.

But that was better than his other punishment, on days where you felt a terrifying hardness as Sukuna held your face between his legs, using a single finger to paint fresh blood, using you as a macabre canvas as he painted.

Those days he would have Urame fetch a mirror, and both would cackle as they examined his work. Often, it was lewd words and signs, but other times it was as if he was painting his marks on you.

Bastard.

After a long, cruel day, you dared to critique his work, sneering at his lack of finesse.

With a snap of his fingers, he had Urame strap you down, leering over you as he assembled his petty revenge.

A curse user was summoned, bringing along the tools of his trade; a short bamboo pole with a needle attached and a jar of thick onyx ink.

If that hadn’t been enough, Sukuna cut his wrist, pouring black blood to mix into the lot.

He instructed the curse user to tattoo you exactly like him, with no imperfections else his head be separated from his body.

You endured unbearable pain for nearly a week, stripped down under the gaze of Sukuna, a reminder to watch your tongue. And after, when the tattoos were done, he commemorated it with a new kimono and a portrait of you at his feet. A wretched ugly thing, as you now were.

He loved it, and let the painter live.

The recovery took twice as long, as your master hardly let you rest, or even leave his side. And as the days passed, you felt less and less like a human.

Forced to accompany him almost daily, you had an unfortunate insight into the casual cruelty of the Cursed King who knew nothing of kindness.

You eat less, hardly sleep and the whole blood-shed thing was sort of muffled, probably thanks to the sheer amount witnessed. You figure terror is the only thing keeping you alive.

Day in and out you followed the creature, just waiting for the day he tires of you.

And that day doesn’t come.

It’s still a surprise that you’re alive, you muse too often, laying on a cushion at the entrance to his rooms. Though he did take off your left arm the day he took you, he claimed it was an accident, and fixed it.

You’d rather that happen again than to be forced to enter his rooms.

At least your position at his shrine was more or less a pet, or when he was gone, Urame’s.

And despite your treatment, the concubines were in a far worse condition. The way Sukuna treated other women was abhorrent. Some days, bored, would reap the land looking for fresh, beautiful blood, and when he found some, he’d bring them back. Some girls even offered up to him, in hopes he’d show mercy.

Wide-eyed women, much like yourself, you realized as you watched them enter one day. But you felt these were much prettier, much more docile than you. Some even fawned over him, though their manners probably rang as fake as your docility. Were they trying to secure a safe place by him, or just trying not to be killed was hard to say. You didn’t blame either. Humanity was no longer civil.

It didn’t matter. They all get dragged into that black hole of his room, sometimes four at a time, and their screaming often lasts for hours.

Women who entered his rooms never exited alive, thankfully Urame thought your time could be much better spent working than sitting at the door, listening in.

Yeah, it was much preferable to be a tortured slave to Sukuna than to be seen as a woman.

“You’ve been quiet this last week, pet.” Sharp nails dig into your head, turning you to look at the man sitting on the throne above. “Perhaps you no longer find my pastimes so alarming.”

Meaning, his pastime of killing and eating humans.

Something shared by the court of curses below him, warily watching for what next he commands and desires.

Unfortunately, that was you. You despised the looks raked over your chained form, the greedy mouths that drooled, awaiting the day the master turned tired of the remaining Gojo, and hoped to have their turn for revenge.

If they couldn’t have Satoru Gojo, you’d do.

“Apologies… master.” You said, tension forming at the back of your neck as he tugged harshly on your head. Even so, your words remained smooth. “I find it hard to do anything but serve with your foot on my back.”

His dark chuckle was an answer in itself.

“Such a mouth, even when disguising your words so pretty.” Sukuna let go of your hair, amused enough today to let your words pass. You drop your head, but only enough to quell the pain. “It was such a shame for your kin to have died so easily, but it seems my desire for entertainment continues to be fulfilled by you.”

You hated him so much.

You clench your mouth, but the insult escapes before you can stop it.

“Bastard.”

You go stiff, but Sukuna merely pauses.

“Oh?” A single finger of his lifts your chin up again, before moving to your lips. And without warning, he pushes it inside your mouth.

“I thought I may torture you for a while, then be rid of you, but…”

You will yourself not to bite down on his finger, as he probably wanted an excuse to bite you back. But you don’t, and after a moment he pops it out with a small sound before another hand grabs your shoulder.

“Leave.”

For a moment you think he’s speaking to you, but the tension in your throat holds, and you see him looking at everyone else.

“My lord?” You question but his eyes flash down in warning.

All the curses and curse-users who attend minor tasks in the shrine are gone in moments. Urame is the last, shitting the door and ensuring the desired privacy, which means, something horrible is about to happen.

The moment the ornate handle clicks, Sukuna picks you up with a third hand. You can’t help but exhale as he sets you down on his knee. The finger that had been in your mouth returns, and you gag as this time it delves in, choking you.

“Not a very good reflex, but it can be worked on,” Sukuna says with an almost bored drawl, tugging his finger back out, and you wonder if he just sent everyone out because he wanted to do just that.

You cough, hands rising to hold your face, and don’t ask.

Sukuna laughs, clearly happy with annoying you, like a child. You so badly want to lash out but the fear of retaliation is far more effective than any shackle.

He has killed villages for less.

“See, this is why I didn’t kill you when I got rid of the rest of the scum!” He jokes, tilting his head to gaze with all four of his penetrating red eyes. “Such pleasing reactions!”

Friends, you think darkly. Those scum were your friends who were more like family. Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Nobara, Yuuta, Yuuji and so many others.

Tears fill your eyes as a soft voice seems to be at the back of your mind.

Megumi.

Though Sukuna was fully transformed, pain filled you thinking that Megumi might be in that monstrous body, trapped and unable to escape.

His knee shifts up, causing a terrible feeling of butterflies and cockroaches to churn in your stomach from the feel. The move was far too personal, and you tried to shift so he wasn’t pressed so intimately against your rear.

Even trying to fall off would be preferable. But your throat is raised, thanks to the gold chain in Sukuna’s hand that pulls up as he twists.

The benefit of having four arms is he can manhandle you as he pleases.

His thick hand raised your chin and refused to let you turn an inch as you gazed hatefully into his eyes

“What a beautiful sight. You know, from the first moment I saw you, I knew you were special.” Another hand moves to pull back some stray hair behind your ear.

“I hate you.”

Your hands shake, clenched in fists.

“I know.” He says with a smirk. “You know why I keep you around, pet?”

You have nothing to say and don’t even care to know. But that won’t stop him.

He strokes your face, his thumb holding you in a position others might think lovers would use.

“The first time I gazed upon you, I felt a most unique heat in my chest that has persisted till this day. Love, perhaps.” He mocks.

“Disgusting.” You spit out, but he doesn’t pause.

“From the moment we crossed paths your fate was set, but only recently have I understood the extent of what you mean to me.” Sukuna seems to be smug, revealing this, and you think he’s probably just messing with your head again.

The grip on your chin is starting to hurt.

Your chin shakes, and you grab the giant hand holding your face, digging in your fingers. You are certain he is going to kill you now. But you won’t cry or beg for mercy.

No, as a Gojo you would face down death and spit in his face.

So you do, hitting Sukuna right under his lower left eye.

“Go to hell, monster.” You growled, despite feeling the creak of bones in your face.

And for a moment the world is deathly quiet.

Until Sukuna throws back his head, startling you with a loud howl as he releases your face to laugh. In pain and confusion, you are tongue-tied as he tilts his head, the look on his face almost fond.

“I could kill you, but I have a better plan. I think you would make a very interesting wife.”

You would have fallen off his leg had he not quickly placed a palm on the small of your back.

“I despise you.” You reply, seeing as there isn’t anything else to say. But Sukuna doesn’t get mad at you for speaking out. Instead, he grins, which is much worse. “I’ll never be yours.”

But his mouth grows wide, and he tugs you forward, pushing you against his chest. Your lack of elegant words doesn’t bother Sukuna.

“Not as a human. I recently acquired a certain cursed spirit on my travels, and by imbuing you with her powers, your transformation should be complete. Rika would suit you well. You’re already halfway there, thanks to those marks suing my blood.”

You had been eating less, not hardly sleeping and the whole blood-shed thing was sort of muffled…

You gape, twisting to try and escape or even to move enough to allow your brain to function.

What?

He gives you a long look that you don’t know how to interpret. “You've lost enough of that wretched humanity that your body won’t break when you bear my children.”

You straighten, horrified, reeling back, but stopped.

Oh gods, there wasn’t anything more ridiculous than Sukuna talking about reproducing with you?

“No-“ He waves off your rejection, like a wisp of wind. You don’t remember starting to shake so hard, but it seems like you can see yourself from above, trembling a leaf in a storm.

“Of course, pet. You didn’t think I’d keep a stupid thing like you around to look nice? I even practiced on those pathetic humans.”

You dig your fingers into his chest, ripping it open with fury alone.

“I’ll kill you.” You say, “I’ll kill myself-“

Sukuna chuckles as blood pours from his chest, but the wound heals faster than you can dig. Sukuna's hand shoves your head into his blood, and iron fills your mouth.

“Heh, brat. Look at you, a Gojo doomed to be the queen of curses. A fitting end to that cursed line.”

“Someday, the chance will come, and one day, I’ll kill you.” You swear, teeth dripping in red.

“Women like you never leave their brats, so I’ll breed you till you have no escape,” Sukuna says, bending down and giving a soft kiss to your painted lips.

As he pulls away, his tongue licks away the blood. “Of course, if you try, I’ll kill them and breed you again. Isn’t that what husbands do?”

#notromance #jjk sukuna #sukuna x yn #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna #sukuna smut #one-shot #dark #dovedove?#probably qualified for all Sukuna content #Hurrah second season!#jjk #jjk x reader #Gojo!Reader

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beautifulmadnesss · 1 year

Text

"Maybe I'm Better Off Dead" Velaryon!Reader x Aemond Targaryen

Summary: After the death of Lucerys, Aemond takes Visenya, the surviving sister of Lucerys, back with him to Kings Landing. Warning: if its in HoTD it's in here

I stood in the hall of Storms End, waiting for what seemed like hours, my hand never moving from the hilt of my sword. Luke knew Aemond wouldn't give up, so he flew off first and I was to follow after a while.

"My Lord thank you for your time as a gracious host. I will return home now." I gave a small curtsey to Lord Baratheon and turned to leave just as the doors opened.

I knew immediately by the look on his face that something was horribly wrong. All the earlier arrogance and even the anger he had directed at my brother was gone from his face. He looked shocked and even, perhaps, a little afraid.

"Uncle, I was just-" He cut me off without even glancing at me.

"My Lord, I ask that you would detain the Lady Visenya until I bring her with me to Kings Landing." He had regained some of his composure, enough that Lord Baratheon paused.

"I cannot get involved with this war in such a treasonous manner."

"I'm afraid Rhaenyra Targaryen will be angered with you regardless after the death of her son just above your home." I charged at him so quickly that he was the only one to react in time to stop me.

"You killed my brother!" I screamed at him, attempting to strike him with my sword, but he simply overpowered me and pulled it from my grasp. It clattered along the floor as he tossed it aside. I continued to try and fight against him, but he was twice my size and it was useless.

"I already told you boy, I will not have bloodshed in my home. You will take the girl to Kings Landing at once and your brother will provide me the protection you promised." Lord Baratheon commanded.

"Let me go!" I screamed, fighting as he dragged me along with him, out into the courtyard where my dragon screeched and fought against her chains. I heard a much louder roar and turned to see Aemond's dragon, Vhagar. I saw the unmistakable crimson around her jaws and my heart clenched. "You monster!" I sobbed, feeling helpless and entirely alone. He didn't respond, but kept pulling me toward the beast that had murdered my brother and his dragon. My fighting did nothing to detour him as he lifted me onto Vhagar above him, pushing me up as he climbed until we were both sat in the saddle. He pulled out some rope from one of the bags on the saddle and bound my hands in front of me, securing them to the saddle, so I had no escape. "I hate you and I swear to you that you will die screaming." I growled at him, mustering every ounce of hatred I could, despite knowing he could feel my body trembling.

"Sōvēs." He said, ignoring my threat, and commanding his dragon to take me to the home of my enemies.

"Vhagar killed Luke and Arrax. Now you're taking me to you mother and grandsire to have them kill me. I suppose that makes you a coward." I taunted him as he carefully helped me off Vhagar with surprisingly gentle hands.

"They're not going to kill you." He said, still not looking me in the eye.

"I wish they would." I muttered, finally drawing his gaze. His eyes softened slightly as he took in my tear soaked face.

"I'm truly sorry about Luke, I didn't intend-"

"Then you're stupid. You chased a child and a young dragon with a hundred year old dragon that was one of three dragons that burned half the country during the Conquest. You don't control her. You're simply too arrogant to see that and now my brother is dead." My hands were still bound and the top of my head barely reached his sternum, but I could tell, I struck a nerve. His jaw tensed and his eyes rapidly searched my face as he considered a response.

Eventually he said, "he took my eye."

"Now you took his life. I hope your revenge was worth it." I tried to use my shoulder to wipe away the tears that had fallen. I would not cry before the King and his advisors.

That is exactly where Aemond took me. It was just before dawn as he marched me into the council room. Aegon wore the crown of his namesake as he sat in the chair directly in front of me. On his right sat his grandsire and his hand Otto Hightower, Ser Criston Cole who was presumably his Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, my uncle, Lord Larys Strong, and a Lord Jasper Wyld. To his left was his mother, though she had no true seat on the council. Next to her was Grand Maester Orwyle, and finally Ser Tyland Lannistor, who had once competed for my mothers affections. I glared at each of the traitors before me with all the wrath of my birthright as a Princess.

"Uncle." I said with no move to curtsey.

"You will address your King with respect, bastard." Cole commanded.

"It's alright, she's had a difficult night I hear. Her elder brother and his dragon lay in pieces at the bottom of Shipbreaker Bay." Aegon taunted and I felt my heart twist painfully at the brutality of his words, but I steeled myself to give no reaction. "Shall we have her executed?" He suggested and I hated that I shrunk back against Aemond. Perhaps I imagined it, but I thought I felt his hand tighten against my arm.

"No. We will not kill her. There has already been enough bloodshed." Alicent spoke for the first time. "Rhaenyra will see reason and bend the knee."

"She will not and you know it. You betrayed her when you stole her throne and now you have allowed the murder of her son." I decided that if I was going to be executed then I may as well speak my mind.

"Your grace, if it pleases you, perhaps it is best to keep the girl as a prisoner, to persuade Rhaenyra to bend the knee." Otto Hightower added in support of his daughter.

"What of her dragon?" Tyland Lannister inquired.

"I shall arrange for the beast to be killed." Ser Criston replied, glancing at Aegon for approval to which he nodded.

"No!" I tried to shoot forward, but Aemond was expecting it and held me even tighter against his chest.

"We will keep her dragon chained in the dragon pit, as they already have more dragons and we could use the addition. As for Visenya, I will take her as my wife and either her mother will bend the knee and I will reside on Dragonstone with my wife or she will refuse and Visenya will remain here with me." Aemond spoke with all his usual confidence and I realized in his silence on the way over here, he was made this plan.

"I will not-"

"You will obey your King or I swear it that you will suffer the consequences. Mother, you will prepare the plans for the wedding and it will be held in two days." Aegon commanded with only the fraction of the authority he believed that he possessed.

"Your grace, are you sure that it is wise to bind your brother to a bastard?" Otto questioned.

"The hand does as the King commands and you will not question me again." Aegon spat. "Aemond, you shall keep her in your chambers. Ser Criston, double your men outside and have them to seal the windows. Dear niece, I will have the ladies prepare a dress fit for a Princess." I glared at him, though it had no effect. He held all the power here and I was simply a prisoner at his mercy.

Aemond pulled my arm and led me out of the room. We made our way through the halls without either of us saying a word until we reached his chambers. He removed his sword and left it by the door before opening the door for me to enter.

Once it shut behind us and I heard a latch snap, he turned to me. "I'm going to remove these. Don't do anything stupid, please." I didn't respond, but I also didn't try to resist as he undid the ropes around my wrists. "Tomorrow, I presume my mother will have more clothes for you, but for tonight-" He tossed me what I presumed was his small clothes. He didn't wait for my response as he went behind the screen to change his own clothes. I had only taken a small step forward to search for a weapon or an escape when he spoke again, "I would be disappointed if you didn't try, but I assure you, there is no escape and the guards have removed any weapons." I huffed in frustration, but he was right, I would not be giving up. "Are you decent or are you still searching for a plan?" He asked after a few moments.

"Just a moment," I replied. I was in fact searching for a plan and had made no moves to change. Though he seemed to be remaining on the other side of the screen, I hid around the corner as I removed my soaked dress and small clothes, only now realizing how cold I was. His small clothes fit as I expected they would, the sleeves down far past the tips of my fingers and the hem pooling in excess around my feet. "Alright." I said, poking around the corner.

He erupted into laughter the moment he saw me. I scowled in response, folding my arms, uncomfortably around my stomach while also gathering as much of the fabric as I could to cover myself. I also ensured as much distance between us as the room would allow. I had never been alone with a man, not even Daemon or my father, it was always to preserve my maidenhood for my husband. My mother had explained it to me some, as her only daughter, but she ensured me that she would share more with me before my wedding. She promised to marry me to a gentle and kind man, a man I loved. Aemond was none of those things and while he may have spared my life tonight, he also took the life of my brother.

His laughter quieted as he took in my face. "I will not harm you." He said raising his hands. "I know that you have no reason to believe that and I know that you hate me, but I swear to you that I will not force you into anything. I only suggested us to be wed so that my brother would not kill you or worse."

I bit my lip as tears fell once again, "You killed Luke and took me prisoner, why should I trust anything you have to say?"

He glanced at the door and took a few steps closer to me. I immediately gasped and shot backward, only running into the wall. He noticed and retreated quickly. His voice dropped to a whisper, "No one will believe you if you repeat this. I truly mean it, I am deeply sorry and I never meant to kill Lucerys. I will regret my actions until my very last day." I watched his adams apple bob as he swallowed. "The only thing I can do is to try to make it right with you. I know that you could not be allowed to return to Dragonstone; however, I knew that by offering up a marriage, my brother would spare your life."

I shook my head. He did tell them not to kill me, but I still couldn't trust him. I was completely alone here and if I was going to survive here, I couldn't let Aemond or anyone else trick me.

"I'm going to sleep over there, okay?" He pointed sofa between us. "You can take the bed." When I didn't respond he took a small step forward and when I didn't react, he continued forward. He was approaching the sofa from the right, so I moved to the left and continued to face him as I stepped toward the bed. Only when he was settled on the sofa did I climb onto the bed. The warmth immediately surrounded me as I cozied up under the blankets and settled back against the pillows. The relief was short-lived as I was once again confronted with how entirely alone I was. I wanted nothing more than to be comforted by my best friend, but the only offering I had was the emptiness he had left behind. He was dead and would never again be of any comfort to me or anyone else. I turned to my side and pulled one of the pillows against my chest, quickly burying my face into it to muffle the sobs that escaped. I completely broke down as I thought of the rest of my family. Had someone told my mother and brothers? Would Uncle Daemon come looking for me? Would they accept the demands of Aegon or would I be doomed to suffer alone, married to Aemond for the rest of my life? The sobs continued until I had exhausted myself into a restless sleep.

"I will go and lead Aemond away, it is me he wants. Stay here until you are sure more than enough time has passed, then depart for Dragonstone. I will meet you there." He shouted against the rain and thunder.

"Luke, no. We go together!" I begged, already knowing he was never going to listen.

"I am your brother, it is my duty to protect you. I was the one who took his eye and now I will pay for it." He placed his hands on either side of my head. "I will return home, I swear it." He gathered me into a tight hug. "Now, hurry and hide before Aemond comes." He shoved me gently away from him. We both climbed onto our dragons and with one last look took off in opposite directions. I flew just above the castle and back down to the opposite side before quickly climbing off of my dragon and returning to the hall where Lord Baratheon waited.

"Clever girl. Leave the fighting to the men and we shall see which of them survives." He looked as though the idea brought him joy while my entire body was vibrating with terror and adrenaline.

I shut my eyes and was immediately met with the picture of Luke and Arrax soaring through the pouring rain. The sky lit up with flashes of lightning and I watched as Luke frantically searched the skies around him. After another bright flash, I saw Vhagar looming over him. He quickly veered to the right before shooting upwards at a speed that only the small and nimble Arrax could achieve, perhaps the only advantage over the much larger and battle-wise, Vhagar. I could nearly feel his tempered relief as he scanned the clear skies above the storm. He visibly relaxed before devolving into a scream as Vhagar erupted from a cloud with jaws expanded wide enough to easily devour both Luke and Arrax. I watched in horror as the explosion of crimson dispersed to reveal the chunks of flesh that were all that remained of my brother and his beloved dragon. A scream ripped from my throat and I thrashed to escape as the massive beast turned to consume me next. My arms were pinned to my sides and my legs pressed against my dragon as Vhagar descended upon me.

"Visneya!"" I jolted upward, narrowly missing a shape looming above me. I scrambled backwards until I collided with the headboard, though I wasn't sure what exactly I was escaping from. "It's alright. You're alright." Aemond came into focus as I realized it was his hands on my arms, not the jaws of his dragon. and my legs were tangled up in the sheets of his bed, not the straps of my saddle.

"Get away from me!" I screamed, still panting and slightly disoriented from the nightmare. He jumped back as though I had slapped him and it was only then that I took in the genuine concern displayed through his furrowed brows and tight lips. His sapphire eye glinted against the candlelight, free from the patch he normally wore.

"I'm sorry. You were screaming and I-"

"Why didn't you let them kill me? I do not wish to live like this." I begged him. "Truly, if you are sorry, you will set me free either by my dragon or by your sword."

"I can't." He said, his voice cracking.

"Then do not pretend that you care." I spat. "You are just as much of a monster as that beast that you ride."

"Very well." He inclined his head and returned to his spot on the opposite side of the room. Though I could tell he was still watching me carefully.

As I laid back down in the bed, it was not lost on me that despite my screams, no one came to my aid. I was to be left alone with no one, but the monster who had taken the life of my brother over a childhood thirst for revenge.

Part 2

a/n: part 2? other requests?

#imagine #house of the dragon #hotd #house of the dragon imagine #hotd imagine #aemond targaryen #Aemond Targaryen x reader #lucerys velaryon #lucerys valeryon x reader #lucerys x reader #Aemond x reader #velaryon!reader

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juuuulez · 7 months

Note

Negan x Virgin wife reader smut??? Questionable age gap if ur comfortable no pressure though

info: absolutely FILTHY, age gap (reader is 18 when they have sex, negan is like mid 40s), alcohol consumption, negan calls himself daddy, oral (female receiving), loss of virginity, probably more but i can’t even think rn.

summary: Negan’s always taken care of you, only now, you want him in a different way.

omg this took soooo long to write and is also absolutely huge 😭😭 it’s also just pure filth but totally is everything i’ve ever wanted

You were 16 when you arrived at the Sanctuary.

Though, you never really did anything. Negan didn’t even know if you knew how to fire a gun, but he didn’t mind. Your little fingers probably were too soft, they’d shake upon just nearing one, afraid of blemishing your perfect nails.

Your father was a loyal soldier of his, always carried out orders to a T. Therefore, Negan believed that your debt was paid, and didn’t feel the need to make you pull your weight, like most others.

After meetings, when everybody was dismissed, those big wooden doors would open to you standing there, waiting for your father with a sweet smile on your face. He’d place his hand on your back, kiss you on the head, walk you out.

It made Negan think that maybe, just maybe, there was good left in the world. That good was you.

Sometimes a mission would go haywire. Radio connections lost, a truck missing, hijacked. When this happened, you’d always wind up at the door to Negan’s office, timid little knocks garnering his attention. You’d ask, visibly upset, if your father would be okay, if he had any news on when he’d be back.

And Negan would always assure you it was fine, that you’d best get to bed. Morning would come, your father would return, and your world would be complete again. Each time, you’d sniffle, flashing him that sweet little smile before bidding him goodnight.

You were 17 when your father died.

It was a seemingly random attack on an outpost, though Negan knew otherwise. 20-odd men were killed, including your father. When he’d shared the news, you weeped and cried for what felt like hours.

Despite the million tasks to be completed, justice to be avenged, Negan had set that aside to comfort you. Sit down with you, ease your worries, promise that he’d make things right. That whoever did this would pay, he would get your revenge. Even though the tears didn’t stop, and you practically didn’t move from your bed for days afterwards, you’d still managed the effort to give Negan a smile.

You were trying, so, so hard.

But things changed after that.

Well, you changed.

A year went by, and you got harder. Learnt to live on without the guidance of your father, though the struggle was still evident. You were lost, like a little lamb.

Some of the older girls took you under their wing, teaching you the necessities of life in this world. How to make a knife, how to escape rope binding, how to please a man. All the things your father had sheltered you from, made sure you wouldn’t need to worry about.

Though you appreciated their help, it wasn’t the same. Women were too… understanding. They were soft, gentle with you, but it came from a place where they saw a version of themselves in you. No, you wanted something masculine. That protective hand on your back, the feeling of a beard scratching your cheek when he left you sweet little kisses.

You were 18 when you found this again.

Albeit, in a different way.

The war was progressing, however slowly, and tensions were high. Infighting was getting more and more common, Rick was getting on Negan’s last nerve, and his wives were starting to tick him off.

It was another late night, chain-smoking and trying to brainstorm any sort of play against the Alexandria group. Just something to gain some leverage, as he could feel the power slipping from his fingers, whilst they were only getting more and more rebellious.

Just last week, they’d attacked the Sanctuary, where Negan realised that he needed to put an end to this.

There’s that slight knocking at his door, the quiet tap tap tap. He doesn’t need to see to know who it is, nor does he need to answer for you to enter.

You push past the doors, feet clothed in white cotton socks. The type with pink bows on them, on either side. It makes your footsteps silent, padding across the wooden floorboards until you’re standing in front of Negan’s desk.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

It’s become a rather common phrase, though Negan had thought that you were getting better. The attack must have set you off again, put you on edge, anxious. It makes sense, as you weren’t exactly accustomed to the gunfire and shouting.

“You try counting, doll?” Negan asks, watching you over the rim of his glass, letting the smooth whiskey slide down his throat. His eyes wandered downwards, taking in your silk nightdress, falling just to the top of your thighs.

Tantalisingly small, you needed a new one.

This past year, after your 18th birthday, you’d become dangerous. Confident. Each day your shorts seemed to get shorter, the straps on your tanks skinnier. You pushed the limit, that sickly sweet smile transforming into something alluring and tempting whenever you gazed at the younger soldiers.

It was like a ticking time bomb, and without your daddy to guide you, Negan knew you were moments from acting out.

“Mhm. Doesn’t work,” You shrug, eyes downcast upon the wooden desk, like you’re searching the dark grain for some sort of answer to all your problems, “Why count when I can come see you?”

This causes Negan to chuckle, that deep sound that rumbles from his chest, causing you to look back up at him. He sets the glass down, a soft clink as it collides with the table. “Because sometimes I’ll be busy. Ya gotta learn to handle yourself.”

Wrong choice of words.

Negan knew that, because there was this little flicker in your eyes, like a light that had switched on.

Of course you could handle yourself, that’s what you’ve been doing this past year.

You knew what you wanted, and were willing to hunt it down, like prey. All those hushed conversations with the older women, reading all those magazines, you knew what you were doing. Or, you thought you knew what you were doing.

Negan could see this, which is why indulging in these thoughts with you was a dangerous game. He was only a man, after all, and you just looked so good in that little silk dress, the spaghetti straps almost hanging off your soft shoulders. It was like a temptation from the devil himself, the ultimate forbidden fruit.

“C’mere, princess.” He calls out, internally cursing himself for being so fucking stupid, but nonetheless leaning back slightly in his chair.

He was going to hell.

But luckily, sinning was a two player game.

You accepted the invitation, slinking over to him, knuckles just brushing the wooden desk as you pass. Without instruction, you situate yourself between Negan’s slightly parted legs, your ass making contact as you sat on his thigh, rough denim creating friction against your soft skin.

His hands instinctively wrapped around your waist, pulling you in closer, where you allowed your head to fall against his chest. It was comforting, and Negan smelt like smoke and leather, something to unfamiliarly masculine but you loved it. You wanted to smell it forever, feel him forever.

“Why haven’t you asked me to be a wife?”

This causes Negan to furrow his brows, tilting his head to look down at you. In turn, you meet his gaze, looking up at him through your lashes. The position makes him feel powerful, like you’re tiny in his hands, something he could direct with ease. He quickly banished the thought away, not wanting to corrupt your innocence.

“Because you’re too young, doll.”

“But I know things,” You assert as soon as Negan has given his excuse, desperate to make him understand, “From.. from asking people, from reading magazines. I know what to do.”

Negan’s eyes flicker across your face, taking in the cute little pout on his lips. Reading? It suddenly dawns on him that you’re more inexperienced than you let on. All those flirty remarks, seductive stares directed at his soldiers, hadn’t proved fruitful.

You were a virgin.

Now, that shouldn’t have turned him on as much as it did, but God. Negan’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, keeping you pressed firmly against him, to which you lifted your head from his chest. One hand raised higher, gently brushing the hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. The other shifted downwards, snaking his long fingers just under your soft asscheek, peaking from that silky nightgown that bunched above your thighs.

As much as Negan had resented the idea of tarnished your innocence… now it just seemed all the more alluring. Being your first, being the only one you’ll ever taste. Making you his.

“You ever drank whiskey, baby?” He finds himself asking, voice just as smooth and fiery as the alcohol in question.

Your head tilts, eyes owlish and curious as you shake your head no. Negan leans forward in the chair, keeping you close to his chest, and scoops up the previously abandoned glass.

Auburn liquid sloshes slightly with the movement, and Negan takes a moment to adjust you in his lap, manoeuvring your body with ease. He presses his thumb against your plush bottom lip, the slight pressure causing you to open your mouth around him, where he is able to replace the digit with the rim of the glass.

His hand shifts to your jaw, holding you with a firm grip and tilting your head backwards, tipping some of the whiskey into your awaiting mouth. It passes your tongue, gliding down your throat until he pulls the glass back, allowing you just a taste.

Your nose scrunches at the harsh burn, not accustomed to it, before letting your tongue dart out to lick your lips.

“It’s warm.” You mumble, voice still quiet and delicate despite the actions you were partaking in, “Like… in my chest.”

“Yeah? Feelin’ it here?” Negan asks, a smirk beginning to play at his lips in response to your pure innocence. His hand slides up your body, brushing along smooth silk, until it comes to rest just in the channel between your plump breasts. He applies a slight pressure, a firm hand that sits over your heart, where he can feel it increase in tempo.

At this, you smile, pink lips curving upwards while you lean in a little, head tilting up to look at him. Negan feels inclined to mimic the motion, allowing you closer until he can feel your soft breaths against his mouth, lips slightly parted in anticipation.

His eyes flicker down, weighting the severity of these temptations, before meeting your gaze again. “If you wanna do this, baby-girl, then there is no going back,” He advises, voice lowered to match the tension of the situation, “I am going to tear you apart.”

A mixture of anticipation and fear floods your stomach, butterflies tingling and reaching areas that you’d forbidden yourself from touching. Only the slightest motion is required until your lips are touching, pressing against his, causing you to shift closer on your lap.

Negan takes note of your pure eagerness, licking into his mouth with no hesitation, letting your tongues intertwine like you’re trying to taste every inch of his mouth. You’re drunk off the feeling, how he tastes like whiskey and cigarettes, and you can feel his stubble irritating the skin around your mouth but it feels so inexplicably good.

You’re ravenous, fulfilling that deep yearning that’s directed your every movement for the past year. But Negan wants to take it slow, pull you apart, help you understand everything that he’s capable of doing to your body.

So he wraps a hand in your soft hair, balling it around his fist and holding the back of your head in place. A desperate whine leaves you when he pulls his face away, a grin quickly spreading upon seeing your dissatisfied pout.

“Not so fast, baby.” He hums, before diving in once more, directing the pace of the kiss himself.

Whenever you get too eager, trying to take control, Negan will pull away again, letting you gasp and whine and beg him to kiss you again. It’s utterly pathetic, you’ve barely even started and it’s already apparent just how much control Negan has over you, a notion that makes him feel completely elated and also extremely aroused.

It feels like an eternity, with you seated in his lap, leisurely making out and learning exactly what makes you tick. Negan finally lets go of your hair, giving appreciative pets through the silky locks and then down your back, before two large hands are hooking underneath your ass and pulling you upwards.

The sudden movement causes you to gasp, arms quickly gripping onto Negan to steady yourself, but he’s strong enough to manhandle you onto the desk. That white nightgown bunches at your hips, and Negan pushes it upwards to your waist, letting out a low whistle at the sight of your little white lace panties.

“Look at you, princess.” He grumbles, pushing your thighs apart on the desk to get a proper look. There’s a wet stain right over your core, and Negan shamelessly presses his fingers against the thin fabric. The contact makes you squirm, bracing your hands behind you on the wooden desk.

He brings himself closer by pushing the chair forward, whilst simultaneously gripping your thighs and pulling you towards him. Closing the gap, Negan presses his nose against your clothed cunt, letting his tongue dart out to further soil the sticky fabric. The lewd act causes you to gasp, nails scratching against the surface and legs shaking, clamping around his head.

“Tastes so fucking good, baby-girl. This pussy was just made for me.” Negan groans, inhaling your intoxicating scent mixed with the slightly salty taste on his tongue. It took everything in him not to completely brutalise your poor cunt, though he knew it would be sopping by the time he was finished.

Two large, rough hands skate up your thighs, fingers slipping into the dainty handles of your panties. Negan pulls the straps down, letting the fabric fall from your hips and down your legs. Instead of discarding the item onto the floor, or setting it aside, Negan slips them into a nearby drawer. You clock the action, and it makes your face flush bright red.

Negan takes a moment to admire the sight of your bare skin, his hands tracing loving circles into your thighs. “Fuck, can’t believe this is all for me.” He groans, before finally, finally, bringing his mouth close enough to make contact your with your heat.

He licks a long line from your dripping hole, to your clit. Tongue flattened, feeling every ridge of your pussy. The sensation is completely new, leaving you to gasp over him, palms splayed out against the wooden desk. It’s tempting to squeeze his head in your thighs, to completely crumble, but you keep them open and spread.

The effort must be visible, because Negan tilts his head to the side, pressing a tender kiss against your skin. “Bein’ such a good girl, aren’t you? Don’t worry, baby. Let go for me.”

Each word of encouragement is rumbled into the meat of your thighs, and eventually, back into your waiting cunt. It’s overwhelming, in the best way possible, and Negan takes the time to talk you through the pleasure, albeit muffled by how devotedly he’s eating you out.

You squirm against the desk, little pants and surprised cries leaving your mouth, struggling to adjust to the sensation of Negan’s lips suctioning over your clit, creating a steady motion that causes a whole other wave of pleasure to wash over your shoulders.

But then, he’s pressing a single, thick digit against your hole. There’s a slight resistance, but Negan takes his time, circling his finger around the silky cavern until it finally gives, sucking his finger inside. All of this, whilst he continues his assault on your pussy, licking into it shamelessly in a pattern he’s learnt will give you the most pleasure.

“Fuck, it’s.. I-I dunno if I can take it.” You mumble when Negan perseveres, pushing another finger into your warm cunt. It’s a tight fit, but he’s willing to make it work. Determined.

“Oh, baby. You will be taking a lot more than this.”

It fills you with a sense of fear, an anxious feeling growing in the pit of your stomach, like you’ve swallowed a rock. Until Negan pushes his fingers upwards a little, and you practically jump from the desk, a ragged moan leaving your throat. He continues to press against the fleshy spot, meanwhile suctioning his lips around your clit and sucking hard.

You gasp and cry, little tears filling your eyes as you drop backwards. One arm supports you on the desk, the other moving so that you can grip onto Negan’s short, dark hair. Your nails scratch as his scalp, but he doesn’t care, because it’s only a sign of how much pleasure he’s bringing you.

It sounds like you’re trying to say something through the distraught moans, but the words carry no meaning, practically unintelligible. It’s like your bones have turned to jelly, this new feeling arising in your stomach, something you haven’t felt before.

It feels like pressure, an intense pressure. It builds and builds, and you know that it’ll snap soon, but you can’t find your words in order to warn Negan. Yet, he already knows, of course he knows. By the end of this, he’ll understand your body better than you do. Maybe he already does.

Because when it snaps, your orgasm finally reaching its peak, Negan only quickens the pace of his fingers and tongue. His other hand is now on your lower stomach, leaving soft pets against the skin, gently trying to bring you down from everything.

Now, Negan would love nothing more than to keep going, to devour your sopping pussy until you’re crying tears of pain, begging him to relent. One day, he’ll have you like that. Not now, not while you’re still adjusting to everything that he’s possible of giving you.

The hand previously positioned in his hair falls down to his shoulder, where Negan finally brings his face up from your pussy, leaning in closer to you. His beard is shiny with your slick, fingers similarly coated in it, and there are red marks from where his stubble had irritated your sensitive thighs.

You look a mess.

Panting, teary eyed. Face all red and flushed, looking up at him. Your mouth opens to speak, but Negan is quick to cover it with his own, capturing you in a deep kiss.

It’s messy, passionate, though you’re really worn out. Yet, you show him your appreciation, licking feverishly into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue. Then you’re leaning forward, pushing yourself back into a sitting position on the desk, arms wrapped around Negan’s shoulders.

When you break apart, he nudges your cheek with his nose, moving to press kisses against your skin. “How ‘bout I get you into bed, huh?”

You push away from him, shaking your head. There’s a look of confusion on your face, a small pour forming against your lips. “No, no, not yet. We can keep going.” You protest, looking up at him with the most precious, hurt little eyes.

Negan moves his hand up, capturing your face in his grasp, holding you still. His thumb rubs at your plump bottom lip, still wet with his spit, all bitten and red.

“You really want this?” He asks, “Because ‘s gonna hurt, baby. It’ll feel good, but it’ll hurt first.”

You only nod, separating yourself from his hold, to lie back against the wooden desk. It’s slightly uncomfortable, and cold against the naked skin of your thighs, but you prop your feet up against the wood in order to present yourself to him.

It’s lewd, a temptation, you’re trying to lure him in. And it works. Of course it does. Negan can’t deny you any longer, not with that sweet smile, beautiful little face. He wants nothing more than to know that you’re his, and only his.

“Beautiful girl.” He rumbles, splaying a hand over your stomach, running it up over the curve of your breasts. The silk nightgown is pushed upwards, until it’s pooled around your neck. Negan leans down, helping you to sit up a little, so that he can remove the nightgown completely.

Now, you lay bare on his desk, causing him to whistle at the sight. There’s already a damp spot near the edge, where your pussy had stained the wood, a mixture of slick and Negan’s spit. There was another pool forming, where your legs now lay spread at the end, awaiting the blessed moment you’d been dreaming about.

Negan is careful about it, sticks his fingers back into your sopping hole, making sure it’s maintained it’s previous elasticity. It practically sucks him in, and to prove your point, you squeeze your muscles around his fingers.

“Okay, baby. Don’t get impatient on me.” He coos, one hand remaining on your thigh, whilst the other works at removing his pants.

They drop to the floor with a heavy noise, to which he doesn’t bother to fully move them, letting the denim slump around his boots. You prop yourself up a little, looking down the length of your body to where Negan finally reveals his cock.

It’s thick, much thicker than his fingers. How is that even supposed to fit in there? It’s wide around the base and tip, long and curved upwards, towards his stomach. Subconsciously, your legs close a little, but Negan keeps his grip firm as he presses your thighs against the desk.

“You still wanna do this, baby?” He asks, despite his greater instinct to just claim what’s in front of him. Admittedly, it’s been a little difficult to hold off this long.

If you were anyone else, the act would be long done by now. But this was different. You were different. He still wanted to take care of you, like you were a helpless little girl, except you weren’t. This was your plan, after all. Like a lioness, you’d hunted him down, and there no way you were going home without your reward.

A smile spreads on your lips, looking up at him through your lashes, “Yes, please.”

It’s said in that same sweet tone, as if you’re not actually begging for his cock, but another bedtime story. Like you aren’t naked on his desk, pussy dripping down onto the wood, completely spread out like a lavish meal.

“Good girl.” He mumbles, pulling your legs so that they dangle over either of his shoulders, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee. At this angle, he can already feel your heat, so, so close to him.

One hand grips his cock, the other planted across your stomach, a large hand splayed over your skin for comfort. Negan looks down, guiding himself to finally press against your core. There’s a slight resistance, but in no time, he’s length is being sucked into your gooey walls.

There’s a pensive look on your face, which he notices, causing a smile to grow on his own. Your nose twitches slightly, chewing on your bottom lip, trying to adjust to the new feeling. It doesn’t necessarily feel bad, just strange.

But, Negan is only able to get the first few inches in, until there’s a hitch in the process. He leans down, letting you wrap your arms around him, and captures your mouth in a kiss. You give in instantly, preoccupied completely with licking into his mouth, therefore not fully aware of the firm thrust he gives to break through the barrier.

You hiss into his mouth, accidentally biting down onto his lip. Negan doesn’t seem to mind, as he begins pressing kisses down your jaw and neck, leaving a trail of bloody marks in his wake.

“Shh, you’re okay,” He soothes, keeping his hips still, not yet pressing any further until the pain has subsided, “Ain’t gonna hurt for much longer.”

The promise proves fruitful, as within a few moments, you’re wiggling a little in his grasp, giving the silent permission to continue. You look down the gap between you, watching as Negan’s cock slowly pushes further in, until your hips are finally flush.

“Breathe, babygirl.” He murmurs, still licking and sucking over your skin. The wet trail continues, until Negan pays attention to your plump breasts, his tongue collecting the beads of sweat that’s built from the exertion.

You claw at his neck, one hand making it’s way into his hair, scratching slightly at his scalp. Then he’s moving, gently pulling out, until just the tip remains. You breathe through the uncomfortable feeling as he pushes back in, a mixture of your slick and a little blood dripping down your ass, only to pool on the wooden desk.

It’s intense, having Negan stretch you open on his cock, the kind of sensation you’d never felt before. You keep watching between you, keen interest in your eye, which he finds adorable. Even as he speeds up a little, the twinge of pain subsiding into a constant flow of pleasure, you’re still fighting to keep your eyes on him.

He readjusts, bringing your legs back down, only to firmly pin your thighs to the desk. In this position, you’re completely spread for him, causing a blush of embarrassment to rise on your cheeks.

It doesn’t last long, as Negan has found the perfect angle to thrust up into you, causing you to raggedly moan and your eyes to squeeze shut. He continues to hammer the same spot, and it feels heavenly, like his cock is actually in your stomach.

You scratch at the wooden desk, gripping for dear life as Negan holds you still, both large hands planted across your thighs. He’s gripping and kneading them, and you hope they’ll be bruised the next day.

But finally being sheathed in your wet heat is it’s own struggle for Negan, as he’s trying to hold off cumming for as long as possible. He’d been rock-hard the entire time you were making out, but this? It was a victory better than war.

So he moves one hand off your thigh, bringing it to your swollen and abused clit. You gasp as he makes contact, tracing firm, tight circles over the muscle that make your eyes roll back, pathetic noises leaving your parted lips.

“That’s it, baby. Cum for daddy.” He praises, leaning down to leave dark marks on the junction of your neck. You wrap your arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder as Negan continues to fuck into you, hitting that fleshy spot that causes you to cry.

It’s obvious when your orgasm hits you, as your whole body shudders, moans tapered off into high-pitched whines of pleasure. Your gooey walls clench around Negan’s cock, making him groan into your flesh, putting more force behind his thrusts.

Luckily, it’s all he needs to finish, pumping his cum deep into your channel. The overstimulation causes your hips to twitch, legs jolting with the sudden sensation, but Negan tests your limits, shallowly pushing his seed deeper inside you.

Your nails scratch at his neck, eyes pricking with overworked tears, “It’s too much.” You squeak out, voice all raw from all those noises that had been forced from your throat.

“Okay, beautiful,” Negan whispers, pulling himself out of your sensitive cunt, hands gently soothing the bruised skin of your thighs, “But next time, you’ll take it until I say so.”

It’s vaguely threatening, and causes another wave of arousal to ebb through your stomach. However, your mind focuses on one thing, a bashful and pleased smile growing on your tired face.

“Next time?”

It catches Negan off guard slightly, realising what he’d said. That, and you just look so happy, like you’ve finally gotten what you wanted.

“Of course, darlin’. You belong to me.” He assures, savouring the fact that you were so eager to be with him, despite everything.

That night, the nightmares didn’t return. Of course, you didn’t go back to your bed, but instead Negan’s. He took care of you from then on out, it was safe to say you were his new favourite.

#negan smith x reader #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader #twd x you #negan smith #the walking dead #digital footprint who’s that

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sanjoongie · 7 months

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𝚨 ꓝ୦𝜊￨ ꭵ𝗇 𝐋𝜊ꮩ𝒆

🤎A/N: Kicking off this month of revenge since it's Scorpio season is this beauty. Sometimes you just gotta torture you bestie @mejuii with her own professed weaknesses 😘 🤎Pairing: Lee Juyeon (The Boyz) x Reader (f) 🤎Au: Model au, Stylist au 🤎Genre: smut, angst 🤎Trope: unrequited love, oblivious to love 🤎Warnings: reader is mean to Juyeon (think tsundere), sub!juyeon, dom!reader, verbal instruction, oral (f), hair pulling (m), praise kink, hand kink 🤎Rated: 18+, MDNI 🤎Word Count: 1,727 🤎Summary: Juyeon is in love with you, his stylist, who degrades him at any chance she can get. But little did you know... all he wants you to do is order him around

🤎credit to @cafekitsune for the banner!

“Juyeon, you better stop looking at her like that, she’s going to bite your head off,” Sunwoo nudged the older man.

Juyeon sighed heavily. If only his stylist felt the same way about him as he felt about her. He watched as Sunwoo ran-walked to you and smiled happily as you fussed over his hair and makeup. Sunwoo gratuitously pushed his lips out as you rubbed some lip stain on his lips and you smacked his chest for leaning in too close. Sunwoo could afford to be playful with you but you would never let Juyeon act up like that. Where was the fairness in that?

Juyeon had a massive crush on you. Maybe he was stupid. Maybe he was attracted to the idea of a slightly toxic relationship. Maybe he really liked the twinkle in your eye you got when you talked to Sunwoo. Whatever it was, Juyeon wanted you to look at him like you looked at his model partner. But that never seemed to be a reality for Juyeon.

“Juyeon!” You barked for the model to come over and get inspected before they went back to shooting.

Juyeon’s long legs took him to your side pretty quickly. His effortless brain-empty grin pulled on his face as you took the handle end of a comb and moved some strands of his bangs. Your eyes were focused on the task at hand but you were chewing on your lip and Juyeon’s heart exploded. What he wouldn’t give to press his lips to yours, for you to giggle, and let him sweep you off your--

“Helloooo?” You snapped your fingers in front of Juyeon’s face. “Earth to Juyeon? I said I’m done.”

Juyeon moved to where Sunwoo was lounging on the set, fighting everything to not send a hurt look over his shoulder. Juyeon already knew you would give him a look as if he was a child and he’d regret it.

Sunwoo was cackling by the time Juyeon joined him. “You look like a dog with his tail between his legs.”

The next time Juyeon saw you was at his red carpet event with Fendi. You had walked into the room where Juyeon was preparing. What you had not expected was to walk in on that man in slacks and a silk top that draped on his form. His blazer was still hanging on the rack as he waited for you to do hair and makeup.

You stood there with your jaw on the floor until you managed to school your features before Juyeon turned around. Except it didn’t get better. Juyeon’s dark eyes looked down at you as you formulated a plan for his look.

“Sit in the chair so I don’t have to crane my damn neck and break it,” You barked.

Juyeon easily slid in the stylist chair, eyes still on you. “Do you like the top?” He asked. His big fingers rubbed the chain between the pads of his fingers.

“That’s none of my business,” You replied in a clipped tone and Juyeon’s face fell.

“Looks stupid, doesn’t it,” Juyeon lamented, “I knew it.”

“I--” Your mouth snapped shut. You hadn't actually intended to make Juyeon feel bad about his look, you just didn’t want to feed his ego… “It’s beautiful,” You said quietly.

Juyeon’s head snapped up, eyes meeting your own again. “Really?” he said, that casual, happy smile was on his lips again.

“The top,” You clarified, “With the blazer over it, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Juyeon let you do his makeup and then his hair in silence. You had to straddle his feet and legs a bit to style his hair and you froze when you felt one of his hands cup the back of your thigh to steady you. Fuck, his hands were huge.

“Juyeon,” You said, “Why is your hand on me?”

“You looked like you were going to tip over,” He said, somewhat innocently, but you could see the look in his eyes. Instead of the empty-head appearance, his eyes were sharper right now.

“Get them off,” You said in a clipped tone.

“Why?” Juyeon asked, putting his other hand on your opposite leg, “Do they bother you?”

“They do,” You said in a reserved tone, “Now get them off of me.”

“And why do they bother you?” Juyeon pushed.

You couldn't very well tell him that your entire body wanted his hands to cup your ass too, and kneed your cheeks, perhaps splitting them open as he thrust--You shook your head. Nooooo, that was not happening. “Because I need to move freely and you’re stopping that. Now. Let. Go.”

Juyeon did and you felt the tinge of regret and stuff it down; far, far down. And when you told him you were done, Juyeon stood up and you stumbled back to avoid touching him--which caused him to reach out and grab your upper arms. Would his entire hand grip harshly onto your arm as he thrusted into you or would he be soft and rub your arms as you--?

"Juyeon," You said in a sickly-sweet voice, "what are you doing?"

“You almost smashed your head on the glass!” Juyeon protested, eyebrows furrowing cutely.

“Remove your hands or I’ll knock you into your next life,” You threatened.

Juyeon looked so dejected as his hands left your body that you felt that stupid tinge of regret again that you thought you had buried. “You sure do listen well, for a man,” You found yourself admitting as you finally stepped away from the chair.

“I could listen real good for you,” Juyeon said.

You froze in disbelief. You turned around slowly. Juyeon met your eyes. “What did you say?”

“You reward Sunwoo for his bad behavior, but I could be really good for you. I would only do what you say I could do. I’d crawl for you if you ordered it. Wear a collar and leash for you, please--”

You threw your hands up to stop whatever was coming out of Juyeon’s mouth. It was…it was too tantalizing. “No, nope, stop that right now.”

“But--!” Juyeon had puppy dog eyes, pleading with you. Was this really what he wanted? And with you of all people???

“I am not--we cannot--Juyeon, I’m your stylist!!!” You objected.

“So what?” Juyeon raised his chin stubbornly.

You sputtered some more. “That’s unethical, that’s morally incorrect, that’s insane!”

Juyeon took a step forward. “You want to, don’t you?”

You took a step back. Damn it, wasn’t Juyeon supposed to be empty-headed? You cleared your throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Juyeon moved to his knees. “I will do whatever you want.”

You rolled your eyes. “Then crawl on your knees to me.”

Your eyes bulged out of your head when Juyeon did in fact do that. And once he arrived at your feet, he looked up at you. “Tell me what to do next.”

You let out a laugh because you couldn't help yourself. This was ridiculous. “Prop my leg up and kiss up my leg.”

Juyeon cupped your foot and put it atop his knee and began to lovingly kiss up your leg along your dark tights. Your lower half tightened inadvertently in anticipation. What was this fool doing to you?

While looking down your nose, you instructed Juyeon. “Lick my cunt through my tights and underwear.”

And didn’t Juyeon dive head first into your clothed pussy. Your plaid skirt was up to your hips now, Juyeon enthusiastically poking and prodding your cunt. His nose brushed your clit and you bit down hard on your lip. Only then did Juyeon stop, if only to plead with you. “Please, if I can’t kiss you, don’t bite your lip. Let me hear how good I'm making you feel.”

“No one can know, Juyeon,” You hissed.

Juyeon jutted out his lip but continued back with his task at hand. You grew frustrated and then bold with the need to feel more. “Rip my tights, Ju. Rip them and push my panties to the side. Be a good boy and make me cum with your tongue.”

Juyeon gripped your tights, and with a loud rip, made a hole in your crotch. His fingers reached through the hole and pushed your panties in the way. And then he really showed you how much he wanted you. That tongue circled your clit, making you buck your hips upwards. Your clit grew engorged from the pleasure and soon he was able to suck on the sensitive flesh, rough tongue flicking and tempting and pushing you towards your high.

You couldn't help yourself, your hands buried into his hair, part of you screaming that your good work was about to be ruined, and another part of you saying fuck it, you wanted to cum. "That's it, Ju, you're doing so good! Make me cum."

Juyeon moaned into your mound and then wrapped his arms around your thighs. He ate like a starved man, sucking, licking, nipping; whatever it took to make you cum. You came with a muffled cry in the back of your throat. In the height of your orgasm, you don't remember getting head like that ever.

Juyeon let go of your arms and sat back on the balls of his feet. You had praised him, finally. Juyeon couldn't do an awful lot in your eyes, but he could do this for you. Finally, he could be of use. "Was I good for you?" He asked, eyes hopeful of more praise.

You couldn't look at him, however. "I came, didn't I?" You said under your breath.

Juyeon grinned, the empty-head type that you normally hated. "I told you I would treat you good; that I could be good for you."

You shimmied your skirt back down your hips and pushed your hair behind your ear. "Yes, well, get back onto my chair. I need to fix your hair and makeup again," You grumbled.

“Does this mean you’ll start taking me for Taco Tuesdays with Sunwoo?” Juyeon wondered as he sat back down in your chair.

"Don't push your luck," You muttered, unconsciously tugging his hair into place a bit harder than normal; perhaps even just like you did when he was eating you out.

And Juyeon remained smiling the entire time you fixed him.

Taglist: @starlitmark look i finally wrote juju 🥺 thank you for all the help with the new formatting, you're neat 💞

#revember=revenge+november #kvanity #kwritersworldnet #cultofdionysusnet #the boyz smut #lee juyeon smut #tbz smut #juyeon smut #lee juyeon x reader #the boyz x reader #juyeon x reader #βtbz #topaz's work

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smangethe · 10 months

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And another artfight attack yet still for @hrokkall!

“JUDGEMENT”

#RW UTKL #ultrakill #rain world #minos prime #artfight #revenge chain #revenge chain that never stops giving #YEAAA BOYYY WOOHOOO #filth

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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freyatarotreadings8 · 9 months

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Pick a Picture Reading | PAC

Pick a picture 1 - 2 - 3 Hello, sweethearts. It's an unusual reading. I picked quotes for each pile that will give you insights or enlighten you.

Pile 1

“Unexpressed emotions will never die. They are buried alive and will come forth later in uglier ways.”

— Sigmund Freud

“Who told you that there is no true, faithful, eternal love in this world! May the liar’s vile tongue be cut out!”

— Mikhail Bulgakov, The Master and Margarita

“Revenge may be wicked, but it’s natural.”

― William Makepeace Thackeray, Vanity Fair

“Evil is just what is positive; it makes its own existence felt.”

— Arthur Schopenhauer, On the Sufferings of the World

“Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart. The really great men must, I think, have great sadness on earth.”

— F. Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment

”The pleasure lies not in discovering truth, but in searching for it.”

― Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina

“Who are you then?”

“I am part of that power which eternally wills evil and eternally works good.”

— Goethe, Faust

Pile 2

"In order to know the light, we must first experience the darkness."

— C.G. Jung “The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart.” ― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

“A woman may possess the wisdom and chastity of Minerva, and we give no heed to her, if she has a plain face. What folly will not a pair of bright eyes make pardonable? What dullness may not red lips are sweet accents render pleasant? And so, with their usual sense of justice, ladies argue that because a woman is handsome, therefore she is a fool. O ladies, ladies! there are some of you who are neither handsome nor wise.”

― William Makepeace Thackeray, Vanity Fair

“They spoil every romance by trying to make it last for ever.”

— Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

“Here's my advice to you: don't marry until you can tell yourself that you've done all you could, and until you've stopped loving the women you've chosen, until you see her clearly, otherwise you'll be cruelly and irremediably mistaken. Marry when you're old and good for nothing...Otherwise all that's good and lofty in you will be lost.”

— Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace

"Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication"

— Leonardo da Vinci

“Don’t worry about people. People think what you want them to think.”

— Theodore Dreiser, The Financier

Pile 3

“If you want to keep a secret, you must also hide it from yourself.”

— George Orwell, 1984

“To define is to limit.”

— Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

“Everything comes in time to him who knows how to wait.”

— Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace

“The world is a looking-glass, and gives back to every man the reflection of his own face. Frown at it, and it will in turn look sourly upon you; laugh at it and with it, and it is a jolly kind companion; and so let all young persons take their choice.”

― William Makepeace Thackeray, Vanity Fair

“If goodness has causes, it is not goodness; if it has effects, a reward, it is not goodness either. So goodness is outside the chain of cause and effect.”

― Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina

“Hardships make or break people.”

— Margaret Mitchell, Gone with the Wind

“Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind.“

— William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream

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atarathegreat · 2 months

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ZombieLand3 Tokyo Revengers

Haven't done one of these in a while :'(

ft: Rindo Haitani, Shinichiro Sano, Kakucho Hitto, Seishu Inui,

He has survived this long after losing you, not that he was proud. He'd told you in his vows that his heart would stop if he ever lost you. So why was he still breathing? Why was he still fighting? He sighed as he got ready to take his shift on guard for the small town you had both joined.

The dark sky was pretty, if only it hadn't been accompanied by the groans of the dead below. Rindo was tired of hearing the ugly sound every time he was out on watch, knowing that those hideous creatures had taken you from him. There was no other reason for you not returning from a scavenger hunt, you were too good at what you did. Rindo knew the only way you were going down was if you were cornered by too many of these fucking walkers.

"Shut up, one of us smells like ass and it isn't me." Rindo threw a rock at one of the heads below.

"I don't know man, you kind of stink." His partner laughed from the seat beside him. Two people on watch at all times, that was the rule. Maybe if two people had been with you...maybe you would have returned to him, and he wouldn't have to sit alone in that too small apartment. Rindo tossed a rock at the man and told him to shut up.

Everyone knew he was upset about his wife, despite him never having brought it up. Rindo kept his personal feelings to himself.

He sighed and threw another rock down, "These fucking things are pathetic. Moaning and groaning while they stalk around doing nothing all day."

A bang resounded from the tin just below the watcher's ledge, it was loud and drew some attention from the walkers for a split second. Rindo and the other man were on their feet instantly, looking down.

"The fuck...?" His partner squinted, "Am I seeing this right?"

Rindo slapped the guy in the back of the head, "Lower the ladder!"

Rusty hinges cracked to life as the guy rotated the metal wheel. "Go get whoever is supervising right now! Hurry!" Rindo shoved the dude away as people started climbing the ladder. If he thought Rindo stunk, he should've smelled these guys. Whoa. "What the hell are you all covered in?" Rindo had to hold his breath to keep from throwing up.

"Geez, Rinny, you sure know how to make a girl feel missed."

Surviving was easy enough for Shinichiro, who was quite the pro on blunt force trauma from slamming his head into any and everything in the garage. Slamming a heavy wrench into a human's skull wasn't the most satisfying thing he had done in his life, but it was necessary if he wanted to live. And he did.

So, he stood at the door to the little house the group was holed up in, just watching. The chain-link fence did a good job of keeping the yard walker free, but watch was just to make sure the damn things didn't climb over. Shinichiro glanced back into the torn-up house, Emma and Mikey asleep on the dirty couch with his grandpa trying to keep the squat fire contained.

"She's not gonna magically appear next to me, boy." Grandpa sighed, "Stop staring at me."

"Not looking for her." Shinichiro lied, "Making sure you don't kick the bucket over the fire."

Grandpa chuckled as Shinichiro looked away, "I'm old, but not that old, Shin."

Shinichiro rolled his eyes, not seeing the figure that was creeping over the fence, "You're old enough."

He could've shreiked as a cold hand covered his mouth, "How many times do I have to tell you to be nice to your grandpa?"

"This is so fucking lame. Why can't we be out there actually killing these things?"

Kakucho was really getting tired of this brat. Another sad child that was just angry at how the world had become. Not that Kakucho was happy with the way things had gone, but at least he wasn't this angsty teenager anymore. "Just get dressed. We have a job to do." Kakucho groaned as he tugged on the leather jacket.

"Well, hey, wait!" The kid ran to keep up with him, "Didn't you have a wife? My mom says-"

"I don't give a damn what your mom says." Kakucho grabbed the brat by his shirt, "Your dad got himself killed trying to save her when she was perfectly safe anyway. If my wife comes back and I'm dead because I acted stupid, she'll bring me back to life and kick my ass."

The kid stayed silent the rest of the walk to the assignment room. But Kakucho couldn't get the thought out of his head. Should he have gone out to find her?

No, she was smart and capable. She would be back one day and Kakucho would be able to whisper his vows to her as she fell asleep all over again. He felt bad for being so rude to the kid and wrapped an arm over his shoulders, "Your dad was a great guy, he just let his emotions control him and we have to be more careful than that."

"Yes, sir."

"Aw. My sweet Kaku always knows how to make people feel better."

Inui followed the rule you set for the both of you: Always travel. Always travel, always pack lightly, never keep a big group. And for the most part, he'd been able to do just that.

Until he lost you. Now he just traveled, if he came across a group and they traveled together for a while then so be it. But he didn't go out of his way to find a group.

He thought about it as he sat watch, gun in hand as he rested on the doorstep of the shop. Somehow, he had gotten turned around and ended up right back in your hometown. Part of him thought it wasn't an accident. Inui constantly, subconsciously, returned to you. Inui sighed and pulled out his wallet. He'd found that keeping coins and paper money did help in some situations when he needed to obtain things from machines.

Yet he wasn't reaching for his money. Inui only really cared about the polaroid in his wallet. The one of you and him on your wedding day, you looking absolutely stunning in your wedding dress and him making sure that you got your spotlight. It was your day, your perfect wedding, your photo. "I didn't even want that whole event..." He sighed, regretting that he hadn't wanted to make a spectacle at the time, but glad that he loved her enough to let her shine.

"And yet you stood at that altar looking wonderful. All for me."

I like leaving these open ended so that the reader can create their own. I love stories like that.

#anime #manga #x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #tokyo rev x reader #rindou haitani #rindou haitani x reader #shinichiro sano #shinichiro x reader #kakucho hitto #kakucho x reader #inui seishu #inui x reader

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scoobydoodean · 5 months

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ok so I deeply love and respect your thoughts on supernatural because the majority of them line up with what I've been thinking for years but you said something the other day that I keep turning over in my brain and it was something along the lines of carver liking dean more than sam - I know you're in the middle of rewatching s4 but I would love to hear you expound on that (if you have time) because I remember being in the fandom while carvernatural was airing and it was pretty much when the deangirl exodus started. in fact I think people tore into him worse than dabb even 😭

feel free to hold onto this until later when you start the carver seasons if you wish :)

<3 I'll go ahead and answer this one, because it's more of a "broad strokes" thing for me, and I've been rewatching very slowly (on purpose) so that could be a very long wait.

This is so funny because I can just picture Sam fans reading it and turning red and their blood boiling with the fire of a thousand suns but the TL;DR is that season 8-11 (Carver era) broad strokes to me are:

Sam sucks and is a worse brother and person than Dean.

Sam spends the first two seasons of Carver's run thinking he's a better person than Dean anyway and then the second two knowing he sucks, deciding to embrace his moral flexibility to keep Dean alive no matter the cost, and trying to mend things.

Dean is circled by many potential suitors who also in a sense represent Sam replacements because Sam sucks: Benny, Cas, Crowley, and Amara.

Dean knows that Sam sucks and part of him wants to get tf away from him very badly but another part of him feels guilty for wanting that. Family is suffering. Family is a chain around your neck keeping you tied to them via guilt. (Demon Dean represents the desire for escape, as does Amara).

Everybody wants to be with Dean, be Dean, and/or be loved by Dean. Dean is love. Dean is the world. Dean is the reason for existing. Everybody is lovesick about him. Sam is just there.

Sam needs to stop blaming Dean for so many things and learn to own his own choices.

That was fun to write down.

Longer commentary/explanation below the cut.

Season 8 (Carver's first season) literally begins with a Sam character assassination. It begins with us learning that Sam knowingly left Kevin to spend the rest of his life kidnapped and tortured without even telling a soul what happened to him. Not only did he abandon Dean and Cas as well but he didn't even look for them, and refuses to give a satisfying answer as to why.

Season 8 Sam's abandonment as distinct from previous behavior

I have had people this year who I love and respect tell me they don't view this as a character assassination and say they believe this is in character for Sam. I simply do not agree with that. I talk about this as it relates to Kevin here.

Sam has displayed selfishness and a big ego at many points in the series up to season 8. He's told a lot of lies (sometimes to the point of gaslighting), he's gone behind Dean's back to do things that affect Dean's life, he's taken traumatic experiences Dean opened up to him about and ultimately harmed Dean with them, he's shown resentments and anger, he's displayed jealousy, he's displayed a sense of superiority. He has never abandoned his brother to die without even trying. The Sam of season 3 would eviscerate season 8 Sam for this.

Sometimes Sam says and does things he shouldn't, but his crimes do not include "abandoning Dean to die without even looking for him" up to season 8. Many of his crimes happen at least partly because he really really doesn't want Dean to die or is desperate to save his life. He lets go of his anger at John and returns to make sure Dean is safe in 1.11. He refuses to give up and finds a way to save Dean in 1.12. In 1.22, he's willing to put John's life at risk for revenge, but in 2.01 he gets into an outright screaming match with John in the hospital under the belief that John's prioritizing the demon over Dean. Sam spends all of season 3 raging and angst-ing about not being able to save Dean to the point of considering and doing some shady as hell things/abandoning some of his more stalwart moral stances (3.05, 3.11, 3.15, 3.16). Dean's death and later, the desire to secure his safety/future, is one of the catalysts for Sam's descent into drinking demon blood (3.09, 3.16, 4.04, 4.09, 4.12). When he dies in "Swan Song", he urges Dean to pursue a normal, safe, life because he knows that at that point in time, Dean wants to get out but has always felt trapped (2.09, 2.10, 2.20, 3.01, 4.12, 4.16). Even Soulless Sam (who isn't the same as regular Sam) tried to look for Dean in 6.09 "Clap Your Hands If You Believe"—it was simply that when leads for the night dried up, he hooked up with someone because he had nothing more to go on and in soulless Sam's head that was the reasonable thing to do. But soulless Sam also certainly isn't representative of the real Sam—the fact that he doesn't care as much is supposed to point us to differences between him and regular Sam. Season 8 opens with Sam abandoning Dean in a context that makes him arguably worse than his soulless self.

(I talk about why Sam actually abandons everyone in season 8 in a very long post here).

Season 8 and 9 more broadly

So Carver has Sam abandon Dean to die without even trying. Then he has Sam refuse to give any kind of actually reasonable explanation that makes sense to anyone who was paying attention. Then he has Sam say that he's going to leave the life and Dean needs to get over it and accept that Sam's new life will not include contact with Dean (just like his life at Stanford didn't). While saying he's going to leave, he still wants to exert control over Dean's relationships and leverages the threat of leaving (as if he were going to stay) to get Dean to shut up about Sam abandoning him and then again to try and get Dean to cut ties with Benny. He wants to kill Benny before knowing a single thing about him. He assigns someone (Martin) who he knows is mentally unstable and has a more black and white perception of monsters to track Benny and gets Martin killed. He watches Martin knock Dean unconscious and chain him up in a room and doesn't stop it because he wants Benny dead that bad, but then has the audacity to act as if Dean sending him a fake text is worse than Sam literally chaining him up in a room to prevent Sam from killing an innocent person (someone Sam would normally—btw—defend based on episodes like 2.03 and 4.04 or even a few episodes ago with Kate in "Bitten"). He tells Amelia he wants to fight for their relationship then the moment Dan says they should leave the choice to Amelia, he leaves so that it becomes his choice, and then he returns for one episode just to be a homewrecker. He insists on doing The Trials while promising to survive them and giving a big speech about how he's going to save Dean from his own suicidal ideation and then drops the promise as if it never existed two episodes later. Sam loses confidence in himself to complete The Trials and then acts like Dean is the one who doesn't believe in him because Dean is caring for him and insisting he rest and this is an unforgivable offense. At the end of the season, he basically says he's going to commit suicide because Dean has friends besides him. He acts as if he deserves to be Dean's most trusted confidant after an entire season of him being an absolutely fucking terrible brother and acts like Dean is just a big meanie whose feelings are irrational.

After all of this, he has the audacity, in season 9, to suggest that Dean is a bad person who can't stand the thought of being alone. He tells Dean he's the worst person ever and they can only be work partners from now on because Dean is so so bad and evil for stopping him from committing suicide and then not telling him about Gadreel. At the end of the season he admits this was a lie. He just wanted to punish Dean (9.23).

I can see how—if you were watching live at the time (I started watching when season 11 was airing) you'd lose hope. You'd quit the show over all of this, because it seems to go on forever. It's like torture. I would drop kick season 8 Sam into a pit full of lava without hesitation so I get it. If I believed that Carver was actually saying "Yes so true Dean is The Worst™️ and Sam is morally superior <3" for two seasons straight I'd quit the show too. But that isn't what he's saying. We're supposed to read between the lines and realize how unbelievably full of shit Sam is—how deeply selfish and hypocritical he's being. How yes—Dean has made mistakes—but Sam is NOT a better person than him and has gotten away with some absolutely rancid garbage. And season 10 and 11 go on to beat you over the head with it if you didn't get it the first time.

Season 10 and 11

Season 10 opens with this dialogue from a demon:

I heard the rumors. I said "no, that can't be." A Winchester, one of us? But it's true, isn't it? Whatever soul you had; whatever boy scout code you cuddled up to at night; it's all gone. Leaving what? Look at you!

We're meant to think she's talking about Dean who just woke up with black eyes, but then the camera cuts to Sam torturing her, demanding to know where Dean is.

In 10.03, we learn that Sam talked a man (Lester) into selling his soul so he could use him as bait. Demon Dean ends up being assigned to fulfill Lester's deal (to kill his wife for cheating on him). Dean immediately clocks Lester as having cheated on her first and kills Lester for being an insufferable hypocrite... and while he's doing it, I'm pretty sure he's also thinking of Sam's flaming hypocrisy.

SAM: I never meant— DEMON DEAN: Who cares what you meant?! That line that we thought was so clear between us and the things that we hunted, ain’t so clear is it? Wow. You might actually be worse than me! I mean, you took a guy at his lowest, used him, and it cost him his life and his soul. Nice work.

NOTE: 10.03 also recalls 4.21—an episode Sam fans have always tended to emphasize as a "Dean crime" episode where Dean risks Sam's death to force a detox. Sam does the reverse—pumping Dean full of human blood here in 10.03 and explicitly risking his death.

Sam gets Suzie killed in "The Werther Project" while searching for The Book of the Damned.

SAM I’m sorry, okay? I’m so sorry. SUZIE Lot of good “sorry” does me. Look at me. Look….at….me. [She points to her corpse.] There she is. The first casualty of your misguided mission. But what’s another human life to you? Anything’s worth it, as long as you two make it out alive. And how’s that search going? Any closer to a cure? SAM This isn’t real. You’re not real. SUZIE You think Dean’s the wild card, the loose cannon. But don’t you see? Making deals with witches, opening Pandora’s box down there? You’re the reckless one. You’ll do anything to keep clinging to that doomed brother of yours. How many more will die, Sammy? You know it. You have to be stopped. And the only one who can stop you is you!

A few episodes later, Sam orders Oskar's death for a spell to remove the Mark of Cain. I've seen hilarious posts before about how he had no choice but to do this because MoC Dean is so scawy and bad but that quite explicitly is not his motivation. They could have done so many other things. Throw him into space. Bury him in a really deep hole. Put him in something like The Cage. But Sam didn't like any of those options, because all of them meant being without his brother, and he's realized he doesn't want to be without him no matter the cost (10.18).

SAM So, awhile back, we had a chance to, um…close the gates of Hell. And in order to do that, I would’ve had to die. And, I was okay with that, and I am okay with that, but Dean was not. And so, he uh… CHARLIE He saved you. SAM Yeah, he saved me. CHARLIE And let me guess, in doing so, he did something you didn’t want, and that pissed you off. And you said something that hurt him? SAM Yeah, that sounds about right. [...] SAM You know, when Dean came to get me at school, I-I told myself… one last job, you know? One more job. And then when – when I, um…. When I lost Jess, I, again, told myself one more job. There’s always one more job, you know? And one more job, and one more job, and then I was gonna go back to law and – and to my life. CHARLIE You were the Dread Pirate Roberts of hunting. SAM Yeah. I guess I really understand now that….this is my life. I love it. But I can’t do it without my brother. I don’t want to do it without my brother. And if he’s gone, then I don’t…. CHARLIE I got it. I-I do.

This all culminates in 10.23, where a very mentally unstable MoC Dean attempts to reason with Sam about them both being evil and needing to take themselves out:

DEAN: Remember when we were in that church, making Crowley human, about to close the Gates of Hell? Well, you sure as hell were ready to die for the greater good then. SAM: Yeah, and, Dean, you pulled me back. DEAN: And I was wrong. You were right, Sam. You knew that this world would be better without us in it. SAM: No, no, no, wait a second. You're twisting my words here, Dean. DEAN: Why? Because we -- we track evil and kill it? The family business? Is that it? Look at the tape, Sam. Evil tracks us. And it nukes everything in our vicinity -- our family, our friends. It's time we put a proper name to what we really are and we deal with it. SAM: Wait a second. We are not evil. Listen... We're far from perfect, but we are good. That thing on your arm is evil, but not you, not me. DEAN: I let Rudy die. How was that not evil? I know what I am, Sam. But who were you when you --when you drove that man to sell his soul... Or when you bullied Charlie into getting herself killed? And to what end? A-a good end? A just end? To remove the Mark no matter what the consequences? Sam, how is that not evil? I have this thing on my arm, and you're willing to let the Darkness into the world. SAM: You were also willing to summon death to make sure you could never do any more harm. You summoned me because you knew I would do anything to protect you. That's not evil, Dean. That's not an evil man. That is a good man crying to be heard, searching for... some other way.

Dean is saying a lot of shady shit here, but some of what he's saying... isn't wrong?

Sam is willing to let The Darkness destroy the world, and he does, and then standing in the aftermath of a town being destroyed by the force he unleashed, Sam says:

SAM: I unleashed a force on this world that could destroy it . . . to save you. DEAN: And I told you not to. SAM: And I'd do it again. In a second, I would do it again.

Thousands of people are dying and Sam says he would do it again. This post about Sam's actions versus Dean stopping Sam from closing the gates of hell is highly relevant.

Season 11 continues with Sam taking a little more responsibility for his own decisions, while praying for Dean to live (11.02):

SAM: So . . . I know it's been a long time, but . . . Dean and I, we've -- we've been through a lot of bad. But this is different. This is my fault, and I don't know how to fix it. And if I have to die, I've made my peace with that, but . . . Please. Dean deserves better. Dean deserves a life. There are people out there, good people, who are going to suffer because of me, and I am not asking you to clean up my mess. Hell, I don't even know if you're out there, but . . . If you are . . . And if you can hear me, I, um . . . We need your help, God. We need to know there's hope. We need a sign.

And then there's the VERY long-awaited apology:

SAM When I was with Lucifer, he, um... He showed me things. It was like a highlight reel of my biggest failures. DEAN Yeah, he was messing with you. That's what he does. SAM Give me a sec. I should've looked for you. When you were in Purgatory, I... I should've turned over every stone.

Family (Sam) as chains

While all of this is happening, we also have Benny and Cas and Crowley and Amara.

Benny is contrast—someone whose goodness and selfless loyalty only makes Sam's horrible flaws stand out more sharply in season 8. Under the influence of the specter, Dean says, "Benny has been more of a brother to me this past year than you have ever been" and Sam can't stand it. It haunts him so bad he tries to kill Benny, and can't get over it even after the end of the season when Benny is fucking dead. He is unable to accept that the contrast between himself and Benny is his own fault.

Crowley and Dean's flirtations begin in season 9, as Sam suffocates Dean, and at the end of the season, Crowley has literally convinced Dean to run away with him. In 10.01, there is a delightful phone call where Crowley rubs it in Sam's face that Dean is with HIM:

SAM I don't know how you did this, what kind of... Black-magic stunt you pulled, but hear me --I will save my brother or die trying. CROWLEY You know what tickles me about all this? It's what's really eating you up. You don't care that he's a demon. Heck, you've been a demon. We've all been demons. No, it's that he's with me and he's having the time of his life. You can't stand the fact that he's mine. SAM He's not your pet. CROWLEY My pet? He's my best friend, my partner in crime. They'll write songs about us, graphic novels. “The Misadventures of Growley and Squirrel." Dean Winchester completes me, and that's what makes you lose your chickens.

It's this cruel callback to Sam's jealousy of Benny and Cas in season 8—how Crowley convinced Dean to finally ditch his smothering, controlling brat of little brother who can't stand him having friends, and now Dean is having the time of his life howling at the moon. The problem is, Dean also feels a little bit like maybe Crowley wants to control him too, and that isn't working for him.

Amara in season 11 goes on to further speak on terrible brothers who think they're better than you, who leave you betrayed and diminished, who abandon you. She's raging against the concept of family as chains—she wants revenge... but all the while she's in pain because she still loves her brother. Amara's attraction to Dean is based on that commonality—what she feels is a shared experience and how she wants to cut the last remaining pieces of love she feels for her brother away so she can finally be free of the pain of him—and she doesn't care if she destroys everything—including herself—in the process. (See: Dean slowly losing his identity through the MoC arc). Sam and Dean's relationship is in rehab over this whole season though, and so Dean's role ends up being to convince Amara not to destroy herself—to instead do what Sam and Dean have done and make up and work on improving their relationship.

#writer disk horse #carver #mail #multiseason #season 8 #season 9 #season 10 #season 11 #sams moral compass #deans moral compass #amara #crowley #benny #charlie #family chains

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sleepy-gee · 2 months

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🦋 desolation - avox!coryo au - snowjanus week day 2

🦋 day 2: canon divergence 🦋 “All snow melts under heat, dear boy. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Now, hold still..”

🦋 trigger warnings/tags: gore, blood, dark fic, mutilation, starvation, dehumanization.. the whole nine. dunno what you'd call it but coryo is put into a market system and sold so warning for that too. vomiting.

🦋 a/n: this is for you, avox!coryo nation

“Tell me, Mr. Snow.” Dr. Gaul hummed, running a gloved finger along the edge of her blade. Coriolanus’ mouth went dry. Any second now, that blade would silence him for eternity. “Was it worth it? Your little plan to save your songbird?”

Coriolanus didn’t answer yet, dropping his gaze to the marble floor of her lab. Highbottom’s taunts echoed in his head on repeat like a scratched record– “You hear that, boy? It’s the sound of snow falling..” He couldn’t have failed. Snow’s don’t fall. They pull through. Always have and always will. He bit his tongue to hold back some of the tears that threatened to slip. Don’t cry. Don’t fucking cry.

“I urge you to speak now, young man.” Dr. Gaul took a step towards him. “I fear you won’t have the chance to again for a very, very long time.”

“.. What do you want me to say?” He croaked. “Do you want me to beg? To plead for your forgiveness and mercy?” Coriolanus glanced up at her, gaze as venomous as the snakes she loved to toy with.

“If you did, I fear you’d make a fool of yourself.” She grabbed his chin harshly. “You knew the consequences and yet you still cheated. All for some girl you barely knew.”

“She wouldn’t have stood a chance if I didn’t..” Coriolanus stuttered, trying to pull away from her grasp. “It’s not right.”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’ve had a change of heart now. It’s much too late for that, Mr. Snow… You say you won’t beg for mercy, but in a way, you are. A convict on trial, saying whatever he can to get himself out of the death penalty.” Dr. Gaul laughed, a horrid sound. “Predator turned prey.. Isn’t that funny? You climbed your way to the top of the food chain, only to get forced back down to the bottom of it.”

The tears in his eyes finally gave away. The taste of iron filled his mouth, no doubt from the abuse of his poor tongue. Sick as it was, he relished in it. Relished in feeling the weight of it in his mouth, every little thing he could taste in there. Death would’ve been better than this, he thought. But weren’t they the same thing? He’d be reduced to nothing. A hollow shell unable to speak or express himself. Trapped in silence forever. The fear he felt made it nearly impossible to breathe, too.

“Aw..” She wiped one of his tears away. Coriolanus pulled back like he had burned her. “All snow melts under heat, dear boy. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Now, hold still..”

...

A cruel memory, one he tried to block out. Filled with panic and broken screams. Blood pouring out of his mouth onto his lap, a waterfall of consequence settling into a pool on the ground beneath him. He tried and tried to plead for help, begging for her to stop, but she never would. Sadism used to taste so sweet, Now it was cold and bitter. Served cold just like her revenge, she said. Revenge for what, he wanted to ask. For ruining her games? For giving her the show she wanted?

Was it all a mistake?

The Dean’s confrontation was playing on repeat in his head. If he had said something different, done something else..

“President Ravenstill has left your form of punishment up to me. I talked amongst my fellow colleagues and we believed that being sent to the districts as an anonymous, peacekeeping grunt might’ve been suitable.. But then an Avox walked in.. and I had another one of my brilliant ideas. I thought, if he’s anything like his father– Which he is– Then having him go to the districts would be just as bad as having him walk free.”

“Still..” He stammered. “Don’t you think that’s too far?”

“Like I said, anyone caught cheating will simply have no future at all. You made your bed, Coriolanus. Time to lie in it.. I think a good night's rest will do you some good. It’s the last you’ll be having for a while.”

Then, he was sent home to spread the news to his family. But the second he got home and saw the hopeful looks in his family’s eyes, the words got stuck in his throat, and all he could do was sob. They sent a van to take him to Dr. Gaul’s office before the sun was even up the next morning, leaving him with little to no time to say goodbye or get things in order. Somehow, he’d managed to fit in a little nap on the way there– It’s not like he could do anything.

His last (coherent) words, officially, were “Don’t fucking touch me-!”. At least that made him sound stronger than he actually words. He’d never live it down if he spent his last moments with the ability to speak sobbing and pleading.

After the ordeal, they left him for around ten minutes– Alone, bleeding out, but God did it feel like eternity. When they did return, they loosely patched him up and left him alone again. Coriolanus spent most of his ‘recovery’ period sleeping.. Because what else was there to do? When he wasn’t sleeping, he was staring at his mangled reflection in the little mirror one of Gaul’s assistants had left.

A week later, they tossed him out into the market. Coriolanus wasn't aware the Avox market could be so bustling, but it was.. And, God, was it miserable. Chained and pulled around like a circus animal, put on display.

The things people said made him sick.

"You sure are a pretty one.. But I'm afraid I'm out of room."

"Why is he marked up so high? I know he's a Snow, but geez.. 5k for an Avox is too much."

They talked about him like he was a fucking dog. A dog. He was a Snow, for fucks sake. A Snow! Scratch that, a real person. A person with emotions, thoughts, feelings..

He was sick to his stomach. This was the government he had advocated for?

...

Coriolanus stayed on the market for about a week or so (he couldn't tell. Time was a fucking blur) until someone finally decided to "buy" him. He was loaded into the back of another van and dumped into another basement.

This.. Is my new forever, I guess.

...

He'd fallen asleep again. What else was there to do? He was told he had two weeks to recover before they'd put him to work. At least they had a little humanity. He was the only Avox in the house too, apparently, so he knew he'd be overworked.

Oh well. Nothing I can do now.

Coriolanus was attempting to fall asleep for the millionth time when the door to his room opened, and a stream of light came pouring in..

Followed by a voice he thought he'd never hear again.

"Hey, Coryo. I brought you some soup.."

Sejanus fucking Plinth.

Coriolanus sits up quickly, blinking away the tears. The Plinths are the ones that bought him?!

"Take it easy.." Sejanus sat next to him, holding a glass bowl filled with delicious smelling soup in his hands. "I know you're probably confused.. And scared. I wouldn't blame you."

What the fuck am I supposed to do? Coriolanus wanted to say. He felt his mouth move out of habit. But there was no tongue to move.

"We, uh.. Caught word of what happened. So I begged my parents to buy you.. I think it made my Pa happy, letting him spend some of his money on me." Sejanus stirred the soup with a spoon. "I couldn't risk anything happening to you."

Coriolanus gave him a small hum of acknowledgement. Great. He's going to live out the rest of his days as a servant to the Plinth family? District scum? Ugh.

"Pa put me in charge of taking care of you, so.. We'll be spending a lot of time together, eh?" Sejanus tried to cheer him up with a smile. Stupid boy. The smile faded. "I.. Got you some soup? I dunno how well you can handle food right now, but I didn't want you to go hungry.. You look like you need it."

Sejanus held up the spoon to him like he was a toddler. This is what I've been reduced to. Hesitantly, he opened his mouth and let the soup pass. The vibrant taste he was expecting- Courtesy of Ma Plinth- was let down by the taste of nothing. That's odd. Ma's creations are normally delicious–

... Oh.

Another thing. He'd never taste again.

Coriolanus swallowed the soup awkwardly, grimacing. It hurt, but it was better than nothing.

"There you go.." Sejanus hummed, continuing to feed him. "I'll get you as good as new in no time.."

He finished the bowl rather quickly, finding himself disappointed when Sejanus set it to the side. Shouldn't there be more? He's barely had anything in weeks. Refeeding syndrome is a very real thing, but he's gone off of less for longer and eaten more right after.

Sejanus placed a hand on his shoulder. "You're safe now. You're troubles are over, Coryo. I'm gonna make sure of that."

Coriolanus glared at him. You're wrong. They've just begun.

taglist: @officialelioperlman @on-plvto @runningfrom2am @theirgayyourhonour

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #tbosbas #thg #the hunger games #coriolanus snow #coryo snow #sejanus plinth #snowjanus #coriolanus x sejanus #sleepysnowjanusweek #avox au #avox!coryo #dark fic #whump #dead dove do not eat

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