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#we have one more main character and then the rest are sides
velvetfoxgames · 2 days
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Infinite Blue - June 2024 Update
Happy June! Not too much new or exciting to update on this month. It'll probably be like this for a little while as the assets wrap up, and then there'll be more to share as we go further into the programming!
ARTWORK
Minus a few small tweaks to one CG, Rory's illustrations are finished!! This basically leaves one CG left, and maybe an extra for a certain character who is not any of the main six.
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We have the last three background sketches in. Very excited to be completing these shortly.
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WRITING
We're not quite finished with Milo's route, but it should be done in the next couple weeks. Almost halfway there on the scripts.
It's always fun going back and reading over the silly side plots that happen with the rest of the boys on each route :)
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PATREON
This month on Patreon, the illustration vote was for 'Flower crown Milo' and the headcanon was 'Florist Milo.'
Please note that our Patreon will be on pause until August, so new members will not be able to join at this time.
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Thanks for reading!
🌦️ For weekly updates and extra content, join our Patreon!
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Water Gun Fight / "It's Not What You Think"
Fandom: The Bad Batch Characters: Mox, Stak, Deke, Omega, Lyana, Jax, Eva, Hunter, Crosshair Set when everyone is living happily on Pabu :) Word Count: ~1560 Read Here on AO3
Synopsis: The children of Pabu have a water gun fight
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“This isn’t fair. Whoever gets the clones on their team will win.”
Mox folded his arms, a faint, aloof smile painting his face. Either side of him, Stak and Deke stood loose and ready, empty water-pistols held with casual, easy confidence.
“Omega’s a clone too,” he pointed out. “So there’s four of us. You can have two on each team to keep it even.”
“That’s not even,” said Deke with exaggerated annoyance. “Omega was trained by the defectives. She fights dirty.”
“She fights tactically,” corrected Mox, smiling at the blonde girl whose own lips twitched in amusement. “Makes it a challenge.”
Around them the children of Pabu shifted and muttered as a ripple of discussion ran through the group. Some of the younger ones were already getting bored with the idea of teams and rules, pretending to aim at each other and pulling the triggers of their empty water pistols with giggles.
The older ones were taking the issue much more seriously. Nobody could decide what counted as an unfair advantage when it came to the former cadets’ and Omega’s training.
“I think the clones should only be allowed to target each other,” volunteered Jax. His confidence was blossoming with the care he received from his new foster-family on Pabu. “That would make it fair… right?”
“But the rest of you can still target us?” scoffed Stak. “No way.”
“We haven’t even picked team captains yet!” groaned Lyana, dragging her hands dramatically over her face. “At this rate the sea will dry up before we fill these water pistols!”
“I have an idea.”
Omega’s voice cut clearly over the chatter, and the children fell quiet. She had that effect when she took command.
She turned to Deke with a smirk that made her look oh-so-like her younger brother, if only she had a toothpick to hand. “You think I fight dirty?”
There was a deceptive casualness to her tone, the way her dark brown eyes flicked to his from under her long lashes.
Deke shifted uncomfortably, aware that being trapped in the spotlight of Omega’s attention whilst she was plotting something was not where he wanted to be.
“How about… I don’t participate?”
A cry immediately went up from the other children, the small crowd surging to surround her. Eva took her hand, tugging gently.
“You have to play, Omega. You have to.”
Omega held up her free hand, and all eyes turned to her. Mox was smiling out the corner of his mouth, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. He nodded to invite her explanation.
She fixed him with a firm look, challenge in her smile. “I won’t participate,” she repeated, squeezing Eva’s hand reassuringly. “I’ll direct them. The rest of the island against you three. Think you can handle it?”
Stak looked up at Mox, his face breaking into a wide grin. Mox glanced from Stak to Deke, taking in the latter’s nerves, then looked back to Omega.
His smile curved wide as he nodded.
“You’ve got a deal.”
*
“I don’t like this,” muttered Deke as they crept along the side of a building, pressed tight to the shadows and ignoring the glances and titters from the adults going about their daily business. “Omega will be planning something.”
“Exactly,” said Stak with a confident grin. “Wouldn’t be a challenge otherwise.”
Mox smiled but shushed their chatter, leaning round the wall to check the coast was clear. The water gun sat heavy in his hands, freshly reloaded. He’d emptied it – apologetically, almost – into a brother and sister in Lower Pabu.
That was the rule of the game. A soaked t-shirt meant you were out.
He ducked back when a jet of water streamed in his direction, accompanied by giggling.
Quirking an amused eyebrow at the other two, he gestured with his head. In moments the clones were storming the main street, water splashing everywhere, as shrieks of laughter filled the air.
In the end five dripping children stood about, huge grins on their faces, whilst the three clone boys were still bone-dry.
Lyana was among the victims. She had been drenched head-to-toe when Stak and Deke chased her into a corner, shielding her head with her arms to little effect and sobbing with laughter the entire time.
She stood proudly with her arms crossed now, her ‘troops’ at her side.
“Well, what now, boys?” she challenged.
Stak stepped forward, levelling the brightly coloured super-soaker towards her. “Tell us where your general is,” he demanded, unable to bite back his grin.
Lyana laughed. “You’ll never find her.”
“She’s at the Archium,” said Mox with a grin.
“You don’t know that,” piped up one of the Pabu boys bravely, but Mox just chuckled.
“It’s where I’d direct my squad from,” he said, tilting his head up and shielding his eyes from the glare of Pabu’s sun as he gazed up towards Upper Pabu.
“Reckon we can fight our way up there?” asked Deke, stepping to his side.
“Sure.” He glanced back at Lyana with a sly smile. “We’ve taken out her lieutenant. It won’t be long before we’ve ended this.”
*
The adults were generous about letting the clones into their houses to refill their water guns. A lifetime’s training came back easily, even after the soft months without warfare on Pabu, and Deke and Stak easily fell into their roles following Mox’s orders.
They avoided combat when they could to conserve their water supplies. Were ruthless in drenching the island’s children when they could not.
Jax made a valiant attempt to divert them, dancing tauntingly in the mouth of an alley-way which wound into darkness behind the shadow of a two-storey building. Deke laid a warning hand on Stak’s arm.
“Watch out. It could be an ambush.”
“He’s one kid,” grinned Stak. “How bad can it be?”
Jax backed away slowly as Stak advanced. He held his water pistol loosely in one hand as he raised his arms in surrender.
“See?” called Stak. “Not so bad.”
A muffled giggle sounded. Then Eva popped up from the balcony above, tipping a bucket of water which splashed squarely onto Stak, soaking his hair, his shirt, and most of his shorts.
The clone gasped with the shock of it, then a grin spread wide on his face. Jax’s face danced with mirth.
“Vengeance!” howled Mox playfully, and he and Deke dove into the alley, water guns firing. Soon the two force sensitive children were similarly drenched, laughing as Stak threw an arm around each of their shoulders.
“Guess I’m out,” he said good-naturedly, grinning at his brothers. “Think you can take the general down by yourself?”
“Leave it to us,” said Deke with a smile and a salute. “We’ll end Omega’s reign of terror. Just you wait and see.”
*
Storming the plaza in front of the Archium was a running battle. The clones ducked and hid behind market stalls, weaving between chuckling adults as they pursued their quarry, the other laughing children.
Water pistols emptied. Were refilled. Were replaced with weapons ‘looted’ from ‘fallen’ enemies.
Before long they had Omega pinned. Deke leaned over her where she lay on her back, winded but still smiling slyly, where he had tackled her to the floor.
“Orders, sir?” he asked over his shoulder.
“If we’ve captured their general we can negotiate,” said Mox with a cautious glance at Omega. She smoothed her face into an innocent expression, which was a dangerous thing.
“I say we execute her.” Deke primed his super-soaker. “She’s too dangerous to let her live.”
Mox shook his head. “Let her reach her com. She can call her troops off.”
Reluctantly, Deke lifted his foot from where he had pinned Omega’s arm. The blonde girl’s smile returned as she slowly inched her arm towards her face, activating her wrist-com.
“Havoc-1?”
“Yeah?”
The deep rumble of Hunter’s voice was so unexpected that both younger clones backpedalled in shock.
“Hunter–” said Mox, startled, and Deke glanced in panic at Omega’s prone position as he added, “It’s not what you think!”
Hunter folded his arms, tattooed face shadowed with displeasure, stepping forwards to shield Omega and loom over the cadets.
Mox glanced uneasily between them, holding his hands out to his sides in surrender.
“It’s a game–” he began.
The jet of water caught him squarely in the back, running down his spine to soak him to the skin. He yelled, and his shout was echoed by Deke when a similarly targeted blast drenched him too.
The clones spun, searching for the source of the attack. It didn’t take them long to spot Crosshair perched in the weeping maya tree, an impressively large super-soaker in his hands, toothpick clenched between teeth which were bared in a grin.
“No fair,” objected Deke. “This game is supposed to be for kids.”
“It is,” said Hunter, and now he let his brooding façade crack as he picked Omega up from the floor with a fond smile. “Didn’t you hear? We’re younger than Omega. If she can play, we can play…”
Omega returned her big-little brother’s smile and turned a sympathetic look on the two dripping cadets.
“Don’t feel bad,” she said blithely, glancing first at Hunter and then at Crosshair with adoration in her eyes. Her smile turned soft. “You were never going to win, not when I have them.”
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Haha well way back at the submitting prompts stage it was my kiddo who volunteered water gun fight, and I guess you know I engaged in some spurious voting practice to get it into the top 26... thrilled that it got drawn as week 1!
With thanks to @ninjadeathblade who said Crosshair should be camping in the weeping maya tree waiting to snipe the cadets :P
And thanks to the amazing @kybercrystals94 for organising this challenge! You struck up a conversation with me out of the blue last summer and it's been so fun spending the past 10 months bouncing fic ideas back and forth as well as participating in prompt challenges with you. And now you're hosting your own one! Bad Batch Themed! How great is that! :D
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lunealys · 3 days
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which character in obm do you think is the most yandere for mc and why?
CRACKS KNUCKLES OKAY (there will be spoilers from nightbringer so just a heads up)
In my opinion it's definitely a tie between Mammon, Leviathan and Belphegor. Mammon In the OG it's been stated that Mammom oversees all forms of greed, and we know how he is head over heels for the MC as well as possessive. (well the rest of the boys have possessive tendencies towards the mc so lol) In Nightbringer we actually see him go super possessive over the MC to the point his brothers struggled trying to get him under control. Although it's been resolved, I still wonder if he'll be able to go that crazy like that again @ the MC. He is the Avatar of Greed after all, he makes it known to everyone that the MC belongs to him only and that he was their "first." Leviathan Avatar of Envy, enough said. I do remember in the OG (whether it was in one of the pop quiz events or the main story, I'll have to dig later) he did say that the MC is his. Either way I do believe he can be the most yandere for the MC. This jealous serpent??? Obviously. The MC is his idol, his angel, his player 2. I genuinely think he can be a terrifying yandere too. Iirc apparently he was supposed to be a canon yandere but they scrapped it? Correct me if I'm wrong but that's pretty much all I can say about him for now, It's not much so sorry. u __ u Maybe I'll edit and add more later. Belphegor He's a canon yandere (mmNNFF YUMMY). In Nightbringer his yandere side is shown more in Lesson 33-14 , Where he tried to keep the MC from going back to the human world (in MC's case, back to the future) by putting a spell on them so they feel tired. He's so wants the MC is to stay and to keep for himself and it shows, not just in nightbringer but pretty much anywhere. Dude got jealous/angry in Lesson 55-18(OG) where if you choose the option "I'm worried about Lord Diavolo." Belphie responds with "sO yOu cArE mOrE aBoUt lORd dIaVoLO tHaN mE?" What a spoiled, bratty, yandere bitch baby. Also a scary yandere. Tbh I can't really choose but it's between these three. Sorry for any typos btw. Honorable mentions: Lucifer , Barbatos , Diavolo
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thecluelessdoctor · 3 days
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spins in a swivel chair
Guys it's fucking time.
HELLUVA BOSS SEASON 2 EPISODE ... 8?? 9?? Idk I forgot lmao
BUT THE NEW ONE
Boy do I have some things to say
Alright let's get into it.
I'ma start with what I think the episode did right.
Animation, as usual, is awesome, props to all the animators y'all did WONDERFULLY, esp in that beginning duet.
I like that they did a full on stolitz episode with no major sub plots. Yeah there were the cherubs but they were still pretty closely tied to the main plot so.. yeah lmao.
CLAPS INTENSELY
FUCK YOU BLITZ FOR BEING RELATABLE I HATE YOU FOR THAT/POS
Blitz is a character I've always related too and damnit this episode made it worse lmao.
If there's one thing I will always give helluva boss props for it's blitz's character consistency while still adding more layers to him. I also really liked how in this episode we see a more.. soft side?? To blitz?? Not soft but like - a more caring side ig lmao.
Also in this episode we get a real taste of found family like the show wanted us to see before and not just a desperate man trying to force himself into the lives of people who do not want him.
Also blitz in a different outfit always makes me feral because damn this man slays more than I ever could. Also back to the character consistency part, blitz's love for horses still being a little detail about him makes me happy like yes I love it when shows give characters interests without shoving it in your face.
The rest of IMP being wingmen (in their own, weird way) also is fun lol.
Also the cherubs and the DORKS working together is so fun i love the returning villains and I hope we get more of them lol. Also the cherubs being traumatized by the lust ring was ... Kinda funny. Honestly this episode was... kinda funny-?? It's still sex humor as usual but yk.
Also fizzy in rainbow pants let's fucking go.
And I'm glad the eyes on blitzø's gloves are being used and not just pointless clutter in his design. Because now they have the asmoduan crystal like let's go.
Also having a stolitz episode WITHOUT via or Stella even being brought up is SO refreshing. I liked how it was just about stolas' raw emotion, and care for blitz.
And HOLY SHIt. Ok. The end scene of blitz yelling at stolas' for "throwing him away", and once blitz REALIZES stolas' actually CARED about him, he tries to run after him, but it's too late. He's fucked up.
Ok I've sung my praises, let's go into my criticisms.
...
Honestly? I don't have TOO many. I still have some, I always do, but this episode.. was honestly really enjoyable.
Sure the sex stuff is.. pretty annoying and gets old fast but it's helluva boss what can ya do, really?
I feel like, now this is a whole show critique, not just the episode, but I feel like we are going to fast. We are told it's been a ton of time from the last time stolas and blitz did their monthly activities so ueah.
I feel like the emotional convo was a LITTLE stiff in the beginning, but yall? Brandon rogers make blitz sound so genuinely angry and sad, so I feel like it brought us back.
Anyway.
I'm Dotty, and I shouldn't be genuinely invested in this telenovela ass show
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dejasenti99 · 2 months
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he's going the distance!
more about our main character, nerve aratani ↓ (trigger warning for drug mention)
works at spinner's record cafe as a cashier, but also participates in street races. he's an amazing driver and has won countless races, but his prize money usually gets sent back home to his parents.
he's japanese and white, originally from tennesse, n has a little bit of a twang when he's excited/upset.
his nickname for his mom is bambi, and he's always had an extremely close relationship with her. her getting sick was one of the worst things to happen to him.
he went to jail for drug possession and evading arrest after cops ambushed one of his races and he tried to escape/found a bag on him.
he has a collection of cars he keeps in a garage back at his childhood home/farm
he has a ferret named benicio!
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allseeingdirt · 1 year
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everytime i think about kath for too long especially when considering the wider picture im like. ngeremes plastik
#shes so. chews on railing#she was best friends with eve and aaron. she killed aaron. she fought in a rebellion to overthrow a tyrant. she became an empress after.#she adopted reza liz n nia n genuinely shes them as her children. she was barely a mother. she never knew what having caring parents felt#like. liz never knows what having a mother would even feel like. she wants desperately for nate to see her as a mentor and parental figure.#she killed his dad. she made his mother a widow. she killed aaron. she killed aaron. she killed her own best friend.#she never unlearns the ideologies her parents taught her despite spending years fighting a tyrant. she wants to protect the world from#anymore harm. she goes about it by subjugating territories after territories under her own rule. she thinks herself a reluctant villain.#she thinks herself a hero whos the only one capable or even willing to do what it takes.#ugh. ughhhh. i dont even hate her. i dont exactly Like her either. idk#shes a character for the narrative at least. i dont need to feel one way or the other for her.#though funny thing about her character is that her unresolved issues was catastrophic on a global scale and xu's canon is basically#so DEEPLY ENTRENCHED with and can NOT be separated from the consequences of her actions. like everything that happens every series of#important events every character dynamic every characters MOTIVATIONS the absolute CORE of the narrative conflict and every important#character is so deeply deeply a result of her actions. and she doesnt get much screentime as the rest of the cast. lol#we only get to her in part 3. which is arguably maybe the second most appearances of every parts. 4 and 5 shes basically relegated to side#character. part 6 shes there for the Final Confrontation. she gets more screentime but it doesnt actually mean much because every non-main#character gets more screentime because part 6's allllll about the conflict being bigger than xander flip and ari. so honestly despite being#the main antagonist. arguably everything that happened a result of her. shes actually kindaaaa akddmfoslor.#maybe because xu is more about interpersonal connection than anything else. meeting halfway meeting as equals. and kath has made herself to#be no ones equal. the top of the top. cool. detached. suave. charismatic. ruthless. nonchalant. egotist.#not your mother. despite wanting so so bad to be one. not your friend. despite being so so lonely and missing older times.#in a way she rlly does encapsulate xu's core theme and conflict. connections of equals vs isolations of hierarchies. and she is the highest#of all. so she must be the most isolated of all.#idk. everything is ur fault girl. u couldve had a better life. your best friends. maybe therapy before deciding 2 become a mother of three.#and yet it couldnt have been any other way. because u couldnt have been anyone other than kath.#and maybe theres some form of tragedy in that
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ichorai · 6 months
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button ; coriolanus snow. (m)
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pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader (gender-neutral)
synopsis ; what did make him pause, however, was the very top button of your shirt. misshaped. odd. not matching the rest of your buttons. his gift to you. “you’re wearing it,” coriolanus whispered. his voice sounded strained.
words ; 3.4k
themes ; fluff, mild angst, smut
warnings / includes ; unprotected sex (not very explicit), possessiveness, themes of classism, we meet reader's rich parents !! and grandma'am and tigris appear, coryo's paranoia, he's not exactly toxic yet but the seeds are very much planted, i tried to keep him in character as best i could </3
a/n ; there will be a third part loosely following the events of the movie (obv tweaked for the fic!)
series masterlist. main masterlist.
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Your home was the very definition of old money—wealth and grace and high status carved into the marble floors, hung up in the large oil paintings, found within the fibers of the expensive carpets leading into grand halls. Snow had to consciously remind himself to appear unphased. He had this sort of life, too, as far as you were concerned.
It was only expected, especially considering your parents’ high positions: with your father being the top admiral of the navy, and your mother a renowned physicist with several awards under her belt. Dozens of rows of medals and framed certifications from both your parents were more than enough for Snow to gauge the mass of their importance.
He shifted the weight of his feet in his too-tight shoes. Anxious. He wore his dress shirt again, though not before asking Tigris to try and rework the buttons. The buttons hewn from his bathroom tiles. Make them look the same, he had told her. They’re uneven. Snow turned away before he could see her mildly crestfallen expression.
It was a special occasion, hence his dressed-up attire. There was a rose pinned to his waistcoat, a deep shade of red, from his Grandma’am’s rooftop garden. Your father had come home today, after months of military work in the districts. And to celebrate such a momentous evening, you invited him to dinner. 
To meet your parents. How utterly fraught.
Though, now that the two of you were officially together (albeit only recently—Sejanus asked if the two of you were a thing and Coryo replied with an instinctive, possessive yes, much to both of your surprise), Coriolanus supposed there was no use in delaying the inevitable.
“Don’t be nervous,” you told him, arm looped around his. The white rose he’d given you upon his arrival was tucked neatly behind your ear, a lovely contrast to your all-black garb. In a light-hearted tone, you added, “Father would be able to smell it on you. The fear.”
Coriolanus shot you an exasperated glance, to which you only smiled. You landed a soft, reassuring kiss onto his cheek, hand sliding down from his elbow to lace with his. 
“You look… breathtaking,” he said, lifting your conjoined palms to brush his lips over your knuckles. Of the many lies that he told you, this certainly wasn’t one of them. 
Your eyes gleamed with the light from the chandelier hanging above you.
“And you look handsome as ever.” A pause. You seemed bashful all of a sudden, averting your gaze to the gold patterns on the marble floors. “I know this is all very new, so I apologize in advance, if my father asks about our, uhm… our future… He’s a very forward man.”
A smile twitched at the corner of his lips and he slotted his free hand beneath your chin, the pad of his thumb pressing lightly over the side of your throat, forcing you to look back at him. “I have no intention of letting you go, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
You smiled again, all sunlight and warmth, and Coriolanus couldn’t help but steal it away with one last kiss. 
“Ready?” you asked, jerking your head in the direction of the dining room. 
Snow swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.
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Dinner was quite a pleasant affair. The food was better than anything the academy ever served—Coriolanus wondered how you could willingly go from eating such delicacies at home to basic, run-of-the-mill meals the cafeteria provided. There were courses, tender peppered steaks (his very favorite), rich mushroom soups, iced lemon cakes, and several sorts of breads and butters were offered all throughout.
Your mother was a delight, enchanting him with stories of laboratory mishaps and her dangerous adventures with radioactive material. You looked a lot like her, he realized.
Your father, on the other hand, was pressing at first, grilling Coriolanus with dozens of personal questions. If you hadn’t warned him beforehand that he was a military leader, he most definitely would’ve worked it out for himself then. There were times where you politely but forcefully snapped at him, telling him to lay off the invasive interrogation and to let the poor man eat. But Coriolanus really didn’t mind—he’d spent hours upon hours preparing himself for this. He answered all of the questions with effortless ease.
By the third course, your father was satisfied. Reluctant, but satisfied. By the fourth, he was already asking about marriage, much to your mortification. Coriolanus smiled down at his plate, and quietly listened to you lecture your father about privacy and civility.
Yes, dinner was quite enjoyable. Several containers of food from unseen servants were wrapped up for him to take home, at your request, despite his polite protests. It wasn’t a common thing to do in the capitol, but your parents hadn’t batted an eye. 
He was safe. They didn’t know. It was an ongoing mantra the entire night.
He was shown out the door by your father, who clapped a large hand on his shoulder and told him to take care of you, especially while he was gone. Your mother kissed him once on each cheek as farewell, and you did the same, though your kisses strayed far closer to his lips. He caught the mischievous gleam in your eyes. 
The door shut behind him once he strode into the expansive courtyard in front of your mansion of a home. He glanced down at the rose pinned to his coat, wondering if you were still wearing yours behind your ear. A minute later, he jumped out of his reverie when the entrance creaked open once more. You peeked your head back out, eyes alight, pleased to see that he was still there. 
You slid out from the entryway and made your way to him with quick strides, wasting no time to rest your hands upon his chest. To his delight, you were still wearing the rose. “Father and mother left to watch television in the estate’s Northern wing. Didn’t want to kiss you in front of them.”
There were wings to your house? Coriolanus blinked at you, accidentally letting his indifferent mask slip for a few seconds. If you noticed, you didn’t say anything about it, leaning forward to kiss him sweetly. It took him another moment to gather his wits, before winding his arms about your waist and deepening the kiss, nearly bending you backwards with his vigor.
He could never tire of this, he thought, fingers curling so his nails dug into the expensive black fabric of your top. Kissing you, touching you, entertaining the notion that you were his, and only his. 
When you pulled away, your lips were wonderfully kiss-swollen and your pupils were blown wide, to his amusement. Were his eyes just the same?
“Thank you for being here today,” you mumbled, that smile-frown he was so fond of gracing your features once more. “I’m sorry if my parents were too—”
“They were wonderful. You’re wonderful,” he interrupted, tone soft. His hand lifted from your waist to cup your face. Cold fingers against flushed skin. “I’ll see you at the academy?”
A nod, a grin, and a relieved sigh. “Sleep well, Coryo.”
“You, too.” He pulled away, reluctant, allowing his hands to fall back to his sides. “You look good with it, you know. The rose.” With a final nod, he turned on his heel and walked away from your estate, back to his own cold penthouse, where he had to burn newspaper scraps to keep warm.
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The months drew by like a lazy stream of water, gliding over a bed of stones, languid and pleasant. Your time with Coriolanus was nothing short of utter bliss. He was a sweet lover, despite his possessive streaks, always making sure you were alright with what he was doing. The two of you went slow and steady, always asking, always gentle. He kissed you as if you were made of sugar glass, and you held onto him as if he was a fragile ceramic vase.
Exams were drawing nearer with each passing day, and the two of you found yourself studying and cramming more than anything. He would often tell you that there was no need for you to study so hard, especially when you were already at the very top, likely to claim the Plinth prize for yourself, but you always waved him away with a modest laugh. If the two of you weren’t at the library pouring over dozens upon dozens of books, you were finding ways to sneak him into your home: kissing behind stone statues in the gardens, hiding behind velvet curtains, pulling him onto your massive, four-poster bed.
It was only a matter of time until you asked.
His arm was draped over your bare midriff, drawing mindless shapes into your hip. Your head rested back against his chest, mildly sweaty from the lovemaking session the two of you were still dwindling down from. You stared out your window, watching the sun slowly bleed the sky a hazy clementine hue, teeth sinking down into the flesh of your bottom lip in thought.
“Why haven’t we ever studied at your home, Coryo?” you asked. “I’ve yet to meet your cousin. You talk about her a lot… she seems wonderful.”
You felt a cold breath billow over the back of your neck. It sent pleasant chills spider down your spinal column. And you could’ve imagined it, but his fingers seemed to flex over your bare flesh. Twitch. Almost antsy. Did your question make him uncomfortable?
Shifting in his grasp, you turned within his arms so you could face him. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to pressure you, or anything. I just… just know that I’d never judge you.”
His expression was near unreadable, the blue of his eyes even paler than usual with the sunset’s light casting a honey-glow over both of your sprawled-out forms. He kissed you again, hungrily, almost as if to distract you. You let him.
Kiss you, touch you, bruise you. Any of it, all of it.
A low groan barreled within his chest when you fisted a handful of his soft blonde waves at the base of his neck, gently tugging. 
“Nothing you could show me would make me love you any less,” you muttered against his lips, nose nudging against his. “Nothing, Coryo.”
And he, in a moment of love-addled weakness, let himself believe you.
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Come the next afternoon, you were at the door of the Snows’ penthouse, a basketed batch of warm cookies held in one hand, the other holding a heavy bag full of all your textbooks to study. If the two of you were going to study at all today. Your mother was aghast that you were about to visit his home without some sort of gift, and abruptly shoved the basket of goodies into your arms out of seemingly nowhere, as if materialized out of thin air.
“Coriolanus loves the chocolate chip ones,” she harrumphed whilst ushering you out the door. “Honestly, showing up to someone else’s home empty-handed? Who raised you?”
The irony was not lost on either of you, and you barked out a laugh before kissing her farewell and setting off to visit him. 
You rang the rusted doorbell once—curiously regarding the little button once you realized that it was broken. Then, you knocked the door twice, then another two times for good measure. There was a muffled scuffling behind the door, a woman’s voice echoing from behind.
And when it swung open, you were met with an elderly woman, shrouded in a too-large, black tunic with embroidered flowers on the sleeves, the threads loose and pulled, the once-vibrant colors faded. She wore a turban, covering most of her white hair save for the few thin tendrils framing the sides of her face. 
“Hello, I’m Coriolanus’ classmate,” you greeted, in an ever-so-capitol-esque manner. “You must be his… Grandma’am?”
She appeared confused for a moment, before slow sparks of recognition fired across her blue eyes. Coriolanus had the same eyes, you noted.
“Oh!” she crooned. “Oh, dear me! Coriolanus! It’s your lovely friend!” 
There was a bit of commotion down the hall. The brief moment of pause allowed you to finally take in why Coriolanus hadn’t wanted you to come to his home all this time. The penthouse was still quite lavish, as the Snow estate was one of the most expensive properties in the capitol, but it was clear that the space was diminishing with the weight of its upkeep—flickering lights, dusty floors, tears in the wallpapers, mold on the countertops…
Your attention was drawn away from the view when Tigris and Coryo emerged from the same room, and you couldn’t help the smile that threatened to break across your features. His cousin was fretting over his lopsided curls, and he discreetly tried to duck out of her way to get to you.
“My, you are just as gorgeous as he said you were!” Grandma’am said in a pitching tone, wrangling your attention back to her. She lifted her hands to lightly pinch at your cheeks. “Yes, you’ll do just fine.” Her fingers fell away and she scuttled off, murmuring something about the Capitol’s First Partner—
Coriolanus breathed out your name and his hand was on your shoulder, apologizing once, twice, three times (what was he even apologizing for?), before Tigris popped up by his side, bumping him out of the way so she could shake your hand vigorously.
“Hi! I’m Tigris—it’s so nice to finally meet you!”
You shook the blonde woman’s hand, smile seeming to grow impossibly wider. “It’s nice to meet you, too! I love your dress.”
Her mouth dropped open in a flustered manner and a lovely rose shade dusted over her cheekbones. “Oh, this old thing?” She absentmindedly smoothed a hand down the frills of her pink dress. “Yeah, I… oh, it’s nothing, really, I just made it myself.”
“That’s incredibly impressive! You must be a really talented seamstress.”
A sharp clear of his throat made your eyes snap back to Coriolanus. 
“Coryo,” you greeted warmly. “I brought you cookies. Chocolate chip. Mother sends her regards.”
The two Snows in front of you eyed the basket with large eyes. 
“Thank you,” he croaked, accepting the basket from your extended hands and handing it over to his cousin. “Tigris, if you’d excuse us—we’ve got some studying to do.”
Coriolanus began to tug you down the hall, and you waved back to Tigris, telling her that you’d love to see any of her other dresses later. She’d already reached into the basket and had a cookie halfway to her mouth as she nodded at you with a toothy grin.
His room was in around the same state as the rest of the home. Furniture was old, torn, frayed, or simply broken. There were several boarded-up holes in his dresser. There was a box of rat poison below his desk, which was full with all sorts of papers and stacks of yellowing books. You skittered in and dropped your heavy bag down by his bed, allowing him to close the door behind you. You just barely registered the click of a lock.
“So?” he asked, voice sounding much louder in such a confined space. He seemed tense, as if bracing himself for the worst. “Are you disgusted yet?”
“What do you take me for?” you replied easily, having already gathered why he was so afraid of bringing you here in the first place. “I’m not a leech, nor am I vain, Coriolanus. I don’t want more money, and I’m not here to offer you charity to flaunt my wealth. I thought you’d know that by now.”
He stalked closer, observing you like a wolf would its prey. “What is it you want, then?”
When you took a step back closer to his small, rather wiry bed, he would take two longer strides, crowding you back against it. He dipped forward so that his lips were only a hair’s breadth from yours, but just barely not touching.
“You know, I’m sure.”
“I do.” Coriolanus knew that you wanted him just for him, and nothing gave him more pleasure than that simple fact. His nose brushed yours. 
“Would it make me a fool to stay?” you asked, the question fanning over his mouth. Inviting, ever so tantalizing. “You’re not planning on chopping me up and selling my organs for some cash, are you?”
He didn’t laugh at your little joke. Instead, he dove forward, one hand yanking your hips to his, the other winding over to the back of your head. He kissed you desperately, all teeth and tongue, hardened lips and his knee slotting between your thighs. 
“No,” he susurrated thickly, as if he’d swallowed honey and soil, pressing you down until you were fully laid down over his rickety bed, back arched. “You’d be mine. All of you, just mine.”
He swallowed any sort of gasp and moan that fell from your mouth. Greedy, lustful, determined to make you pliable. His kisses didn’t slow down whatsoever when he tore himself away from your lips, freckling them down your cheeks, your jaw, your neck, your collarbones. 
What did make him pause, however, was the very top button of your shirt. 
Misshaped. Odd. Not matching the rest of your buttons. His gift to you.
“You’re wearing it,” Coriolanus whispered. His voice sounded strained.
“Mmh?” You glanced down at the button. “Oh. Of course, I am. I like how it looks.”
His face hovered above yours once more. His stare was so intense you began to shy away, staring at a moldy patch on the ceiling. The silence felt suffocating as you waited for him to do something. Anything.
“I love you,” he breathed out, finally. Upfront and abrupt. It wasn’t often that he said it. Maybe once or twice before, since you said it more than enough for the both of you. 
You laughed then—your wonderful, wind-chime laughter. It was more out of shock than anything. He kissed you soft and sweet, momentarily quelling your chuckling. But as the afternoon of so-called ‘studying’ drew on, the laughter melded into sighs of pleasure when clothes were shed, shifting towards wanton moans of desperation when heated flesh slid against one another. 
You nearly choked when his length breached your entrance, scratching faint red lines down the expanse of his back as he pushed in, pulled out. Rhythmic. Again and again and again—you couldn’t seem to get enough of him on top of you, inside of you, all around you. Your chest was pressed up against his; could he hear your heart beating through your ribs, yearning to feel his? The coil within your lower abdomen tightened. He read your every microexpression just perfectly.
He’d unbuttoned your entire shirt save for the oddly-shaped one, hands groping all over your bare skin, teeth biting down onto the patch of skin just above the button as he rocked himself into a climax, roping you down into the abyss with him. Ragged groans and broken sighs. 
Coriolanus dragged his tongue up your chest and your neck, leaving a cold trail in his wake, and he sucked in a deep breath. When he pulled back to stare at you—flushed, hair mussed, sweat beaded along your hairline, his pearlescent spend between your thighs, your eyes half-lidded… chest only barely covered by his one button…
“Thank you,” he croaked, kissing the space beside your left eye. “For not running.”
“Don’t make me a fool for it,” you replied, looping your arms over Coriolanus’ neck so he could kiss you properly.
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dindjarindiaries · 1 month
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character: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)
prompts: “You could have died, you know.” “I’m fine. There’s nothing for you to worry about.” and “I’m afraid of losing you, okay?”
main masterlist • prompt masterlist
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"Hey! Hey. Stay with me." There was a gentle tap on your cheek that smelled of leather and blaster fire. You groaned and blinked your eyes open, wincing as light caught the silver helmet that leaned over you. "Hey." The modulated voice was even softer that time. "You with me?"
You nodded, grunting as you sat up on your elbows. Din's hands continued to hold the sides of your face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks as his visor gave you a once-over.
"Easy." His command was gentle, rooted in nothing more than concern as his hands eased their way down to your shoulders. "That was a hell of a blow you took there."
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me." You exhaled and began to stand. "We need to get back to the ship."
Din stood with you, one hand on your back and the other holding tight to your hand. If you weren't still somewhat disoriented, your heart would've been pounding at his touch and his proximity. "Only if you're able."
You huffed and raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm fine." You gestured with your head in the direction of the ship. "Let's get going."
Din nodded, drawing his blaster as the two of you began to run to back to the ship. There was no doubt the two of you had already taken care of your attackers, but it never hurt to be cautious. Din, however, was even more on edge than usual, his free hand staying close to you as his visor checked on you more than it did on the way ahead.
It was perhaps the most nervous you had ever seen him.
Once you were on the ship, Din secured the hatch closed behind you, and he wasted no time heading to the cockpit to get you off the planet. You collapsed into the nearest chair and took a few breaths, running your hand over your forehead as a slight ache began to arise. You had known you wouldn't be able to walk away from a detonator blast without at least a little pain.
You were so distracted by these thoughts that you didn't even hear Din return until he was kneeling in front of you with the medpac. You lifted your head at the sight of it and clicked your tongue as you shook your head. "Din, that's really not necessary."
He didn't stop shuffling through the medpac as he answered. "I'd like to make sure." Din paused and glanced up at you. "Please."
You couldn't help giving in to the pure worry in his tone. Your lips stretched in a small smile as you nodded. He returned the gesture and lifted a handheld scanner, using it on various parts of your head, arms, and more to make sure you were free of any critical injures. It time and time again chimed in the negative.
You watched him as he worked, taking note of the way his gloved hand shook as he held the scanner. His free hand was on your knee, and his touch pulsated every once in a while as if he was grounding himself to you over and over again. You furrowed your brow, and once he had completed his scans, you couldn't help speaking on it.
"Din." You reached out for the sides of his helmet, encouraging him to look at you. You searched his visor before nodding firmly. "It's all right."
Din held a breath in his armored chest, his shoulders tensing as his hand on your knee tightened again. His visor fell to study his grasp on you, as if you would fall away if he let go or looked away. After a long pause, he spoke in a voice so strained that it pulled on each of your heartstrings. "You could have died, you know."
You softened even more at that, your thumbs running over his beskar cheeks as you tried to soothe him. "I’m fine. There’s nothing for you to worry about."
Din shook his helmet, lowering it until it was resting against the knee he wasn't still holding. His shoulders rose and fell with each unsteady breath he took. Your softness was exchanged for fierce worry of your own as you ran a hand over his helmet.
"Din." You utterance of his name was just above a whisper. He still remained where he was, practically curled up into you as he clung to you the best he could. "What is it?"
He didn't move even as he answered your question. "I'm afraid."
Your eyes widened at that. You had been convinced that there wasn't a single thing in the galaxy Din Djarin was actually afraid of. He had sure as hell proven that over your time together. "What are you so afraid of?"
Din sighed, lifting his helmet once again so that his visor could face you. His hand ran from your knee to your thigh as if the motion helped him to gain the strength to say the words he was holding so close to his chest. "I’m afraid of losing you, okay?"
You instantly fell apart at his vulnerability. Your brow relaxed as you held his helmet between your hands again and urged him to get closer. The way you moved to the end of the chair helped to close the distance, and soon, you were able to rest your forehead against his helmet. "You won't lose me, Din." You shook your head to emphasize your point. "Not now, not ever."
Din exhaled a troubled breath. "We don't know that." His gloved fingers drummed against your thigh as he fought for strength to go on. "I... have lost so much. It almost feels inevitable. I've put my head down and kept going, but..."
His breath caught in his throat. Your sympathy for him nearly made your eyes well with tears as you waited patiently for him to finish.
"If it were you..." One of Din's hands rose to hold your wrist in place. "I couldn't bear it. Not even the thought of it."
You tried your best to put on a genuine smile for him as you began to reassure him. "I'll be more careful, Din. Okay?" You kissed the center of his visor. "Thank you for sharing this with me. I know it's not easy."
Din huffed, and a wave of relief flowed through you at the evidence of the darkness starting to leave him. "Neither is jumping near a detonator to protect me."
You chuckled, shrugging as your face began to warm. "Well, you would've done the same for me."
Din tilted his helmet at that. "Yeah. In protective armor."
You closed your eyes and savored your closeness. "I guess you'll have to find me my own suit of armor, then."
Din's hand gave your thigh a gentle squeeze. "I'll be your armor."
You reopened your eyes, smiling at him before you wrapped your arms around his neck to embrace him. Your cheek rested upon the cloth around his neck and shoulders as you nodded to yourself. "Perfect."
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din djarin tag list: @yorksgirl @zenrobbins0021 @cyaredindjarin @cw80831 @maddiedrmr
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n0tamused · 3 days
Note
Jiyaaaan request coming your way~
While training his soldiers, one of them accidentally calls him 'Dad'. This leads to the reader teasing them but Jiyan teases back by calling them 'Mom' (or the gender neutral for it?)
(Was reading tv tropes and Jiyan had the 'A Father to his Men' tropes in his character tab lol)
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A/n: Anon this request was so sweet, thank you sm for sending it in! Jiyan the father of an army fr.. I do hope I executed it well. Enjoy!
Content: Jiyan x F!Reader, fluff and playful stuff, nothing more
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The morning sun had long since shifted its axis towards the center of the sky, blazing down through cotton clouds that sailed the azure skies. Below them, in the open fields, west of the main base cacophony sounded, consisting of commands, groans and other sounds of effort as the Midnight Ranger performed their training. And today Jiyan had come to overlook the session himself, although it wouldn’t be the first time. He was often so preoccupied with tasks at the front lines that he didn’t have the time to be leading drills too frequently, but when he did get the chance to do so he would take it. While it wasn’t a full reprieve from the battle, it was still a stark contrast to the grotesque and twisted fates he’d see daily on the battlefield.
Jiyan was noticeably more disheveled by the end, hair messy and hanging in strands and clinging to his sweaty forehead, hands on his hips as his voice rose to meet all ears present. You have just been passing by, helping carry supplies that just came in, and loading old and empty boxes back to be refilled in the city. For once there was no rush that would make your legs ache or your lungs hurt, allowing you all the precious time to bask in the views, the soft chatter and, of course, your dear lover.
The sun caught his figure and formed a golden aura around him, his skin glistening, and you couldn’t help but take a seat at one of many big boxes at the side of the training grounds after you had finished your task. In passing you caught a few looks, and a few smiles of the soldiers you knew from before. They looked much  more lively, despite the rigorous training they just went through. It made your heart warm seeing them in better spirits, wishing nothing more than to see them prevail and be happy. And just as you had recognized a bunch of familiar faces did Jiyan conclude his small speech, about to dismiss everyone with advice of rest hanging on every word. He had spotted you from the start, when you were going by with supplies in arms and soon he’d have a chance to speak to you too, he thought.
“General Jiyan! General Jiyan, a word or two- if I may?” 
It was a voice of one of the new recruits, Jiyan noted as he gazed at the face of the youth, a boy of twenty or so years by the looks of it, and eyes full of curiosity and admiration. He had come up to Jiyan just as he had turned towards you, prompting him to stay rooted in his spot a little longer. A few more young rangers came up behind the recruit, sharing the same curiosity but also being aware of whatever the recruit had on his mind.
“Yes? Is there something you need?” Jiyan questioned, looking at the young man. From his peripheral vision he spotted you moving down from the boxes and joining his side, staying quiet after a short word of greeting towards his Rangers, but your presence felt like a cool breeze under this sun, and he appreciated it all the more.
“I just wanted to say how great today’s training session was, we learned so much more than we did with our drill sergeant” he praised, smiling up at Jiyan all the while, “And I just wanted to ask whether or not you’ll be leading our training session tomorrow as well? Or any other day that is, we would really benefit from your teaching. I mean, you've seen it all for yourself at the front lines!"
The other few with him nodded along, prompting a small smile of pride to form on your face from seeing their fascination with Jiyan. To them he was everything they aspired to be - strong, enduring, tough but not lacking kindness or knowledge. There were times where they were scared to approach him, not knowing how he’d react to their questions, but from observing his interactions with others they warmed up to the idea and plucked all their courage. 
A polite smile curled up on Jiyan’s face as he regarded the youth with gentle golden eyes. His presence as the drill sergeant today wasn’t due to his availability, but a simple coincidence and necessity to fill the shoes of their drill sergeant that had been injured due to Tacet Discords, and Jiyan just happened to be able to be there. “Ah, you have my thanks, rangers. If a replacement for your drill sergeant does not arrive tomorrow and I am not required to be at the front lines, then I will be leading your training tomorrow as well” he told them, which pleased them greatly to hear.  “Although I’m sure Sargent Jin’xi has much more to teach you, something much more important for your sound development in this profession. You cannot take his method lightly. He has seen everything I have, as well. His knowledge is as valuable to your growth, and even more so than mine. You need the good foundation he can give you” He was aware of how confusing or hard it could be to listen to Jin’xi, as the sergeant had quite the eye for details and slow progress in lessons due to his meticulous nature - but that also made him all the better for his station. He was observant and could pluck out bad behavior and mistakes like weeds, and that is better to be done here, than in the middle of battle.
“We know, general, but sergeant Jin’xi is just so hard on us.. sometimes it really seems like he has no limit” one of the women standing behind voiced, earning a look from Jiyan that spoke of his understanding but also his disagreement with the subtle message they were trying to send - please, replace sergeant Jin’xi, or, save us.
“Yeah! One time I accidentally mixed up the weapons in the storage room and he had me do everything on my own again, saying how such mistakes can’t happen on the front lines, how it all means life or death” the first young man said, brushing his fingers through his hair and sighing. “I understand it, but we just got here..” he added and looked at his comrades. 
What was supposed to be a short chit-chat turned swiftly into a gossip galore about Jin’xi. Had Jiyan been any different from the man he was currently, he would’ve scolded them, taken offense at how they spoke about his colleague, but he was in their shoes once, always on edge around the higher ups, and he wished not to bring that same unease to them. He didn’t fail to remind them to not speak like this in front of everyone, and to respect sergeant Jin’xi when he does eventually return, and they gave him their word.
The first young man that approached looked at Jiyan after their discussion, both hands on his hips and looking more relaxed. “We won’t forget that, I promise on my last name! Still, we appreciate your kindness, and one more thing dad- I MEAN- GENERAL!” His entire face crumbled into a look of terror, and all eyes of the group shot to him, looks of surprise and amusement appearing before several of them erupted into laughter after taking a wary glance at Jiyan - who was not offended.
“General Jiyan! Oh god- I apologize, general, I don’t know where that came from-” he stammered, shaking his head and his hands, face flushed from sheer embarrassment. More choked words tumbled out of his mouth, desperate to excuse himself and forget about this. 
Jiyan can’t help but chuckle, the corners of his lips twitching in a failed attempt to hold back his smile. “At ease, recruit. You have not done any crime” he nods at the other, his eyes softening and not showing any sign that he’s about to dish out some punishment - that’d be ridiculous. 
You can’t help but crack a laugh too, covering your lips with your hand as to stifle the sound, but your mirth was evident in your eyes. “Have I missed a chapter? I didn’t know you had kids, general Jiyan” you teased, earning a few shocked but heavily amused looks from the group. Giggles erupted once more, all stifled as they waited for Jiyan to respond to the quip.
Jiyan turns his head to look at you, his eyes boring into yours and questioning your intentions - you can read the thoughts going through your head and your smile only widens in a silent call to a challenge of wits. He didn’t expect you to say something like that, but he could only huff, hiding his amusement under an abrupt guise of confusion.
“Kids?.. Why, I had hoped you’d recognize your own kids, Miss (L/N)” he shot back instantly, making your jaw drop at his rebuttal, a gasp flying past your mouth. “General” you said, accusations plenty heard in your tone as the atmosphere melted into one of jest and play.
Many eyes flickered between you and him, taking in the easy way you conversed with one another.
“Yes? What’s the surprise for? The recruits look up to you too, if you fail to notice. You can confirm with them right now” he is shifting the spotlight to you, and the recruits are quick to jump in too. “It is right, miss. Personally I haven’t been around you for long, no longer than I interacted with the General, but you two are alike, you treat us new ones with a firm but kind hand” a young woman said, smiling at you, and you feel your heart climb into your throat. 
“Can we really be surprised, they’re always together too-” "Aren't they married?" Whispering is heard amidst the group, and Jiyan looks amidst the faces to catch the one that said that but fails to do so, or refuses to weed out the individuals, and his eyes go back to you to catch your response. It’d be a lie to say your relationship with him was a secret, everyone knew there was something deeper between the two of you, something you didn’t show in public due to the war and status, but it was undeniably there. Still, hearing it loud and clear like this was like a splash of cold water. Despite their chatter, the group remained respectful, sweet in their musings.
“Ah, quiet, I do not want to hear it. This is about you, General”
“Ah, don’t run from it now. You’re the one that started this” he commented, rolling his eyes as he folded his arms over his chest. “Anyway, you’re all dismissed. I have a word with.. mother over here. Off you all go. I will see you all in the morning for another training drill. Get some rest” he speaks to the group, gazing upon their faces, only to see how they looked at him with some sort of childhood wonder, and that’s when he realized he must be flushed too. A sheepish smile bloomed on his face. 
“Alright! Awesome-” “Yes, sir!"
“Have a good day, General! And you too, Miss!” 
He watched them leave, bidding them all farewell, and when he turned to face you again he saw you pinching the bridge of your nose, hiding away the biggest smile of the day, the apples of your cheeks redder than before. The Midnight Rangers were undeniably close in connection, having spent so many nights and days huddled together for warmth or laughs or protection, and this small exchange only warmed Jiyan’s heart, to witness how positively they felt around him - and you. 
“Didn’t think we’d become parents so soon. Have we gotten that old already?” Jiyan commented, tone softer in a way he only addressed you when you were alone, and there was no one near the training grounds to hear you.
“Oh, shut up, Jiyan-” you playfully snapped, biting your lip as you looked up at him, stifling a giggle. “You are unbelievable!”
“Hm? Did you expect me to stay quiet today or ignore your quips?” he smiled bigger and you have to admire the little dimples in his cheeks as the smile reaches his eyes, making them squint at you softly.
“I don’t know what I expected, but your response was certainly the last thing I expected” you replied and shook your head, as if that would shake off the redness tinting your skin, imitating him now by crossing your arms. The two of you were looking at each other, wordlessly admiring your red faces while throwing these little quips at one another. 
“Ah.. you’ll get used to it, dearest wife”
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Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.
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kikyan · 8 months
Text
Confession
CW: Yandere content means yandere content y’all, stalking, dub-con/non-con, masturbation, disgusting themes, panty stealer, fingering, oral (receiving), overstimulation, breeding themes(slightly?), creampie, power bottom Idia, slight masochist Idia, kidnapping, shit ass writing, I think that’s all, etc… 
Fandom: Twisted Wonderland 
Character: Idia Shroud x GN! Reader
Word Count: 7.2K words 
A/N: This is a birthday fic for one of my IRL besties, an Idia simp. Another thing, this is a yandere blog so it’s not canon to their personalities at all but more my interpretation of them if THEY were yanderes. So take that as you will! This is with a GN reader so there is no anatomy assigned or pronouns other than they/them (I did proofread it but lmk if there are any errors!)
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‘ Click’ 
‘ Click’ 
Yellow eyes darted across from the screens as he was looking at the contents. Classes were over and his homework was completed quicker than he used to have it done. He was still a housewarden with duties and responsibilities after all, besides he needed the rest of the day free to partake in his favorite hobby. Stalking [Reader] of course. He could access several cameras from different angles as he attempted to track them down. 
‘ Where are they? Their class ends around this time and they usually stay a bit longer in the classroom to wait for the freshman and Grim. They’re taking too long. . .shit! Did I miss them? Did they already leave?’ 
Idia frantically typed away at his computer to try to locate them. After a couple of tries, he found [Reader] and Grim, with the freshman of course, walking out of their classroom. Sighing in relief, he continued to observe as normal. Unfortunately, these cameras were limited as they had no audio but it would do for now. 
‘ So they DID stay longer in the classroom. Phew, good thing nothing has changed so far.’ 
The screens were the only source of light in his room as his lights were turned off. He didn’t have any club activities today so he there was no need to leave his room. He sat on his desk chair while holding his knees to his chest. Raising his thumb to his mouth, he bit down on the tip of his nail. How did it come to this? 
~
“We’re going to be late! Crap, where is the housewarden?”
“Doesn’t he have his club? Do you think we can leave it with Ortho?” 
“Uh maybe. . .man why did Professor Trein dump this on us? If only Idia attended in-person classes, but oh well. Oh, wait-[Reader]!” 
[Reader] was walking through the hallways, but turned when they heard their name was called out. There were two students, from the Ignihyde dorm looking stressed. 
“Yes?” 
“Sorry for this, but could you do us a huge favor? Professor Trein asked if we could drop these papers with Houseward Idia, but we can’t find him! Not to mention, we’re already late for our club activities enough as it is! We’ll make it up to you, promise!” 
“Hm, sure I don’t see why not. Not like I have anything better to do, give them here.” 
Sighing in relief, the students wasted no time in handing the documents over to [Reader]. 
“Gosh, you’re a lifesaver! Thank you so much, both Grim and your meal are on us!” 
The students turned and ran off to their club. Leaving [Reader] alone. 
“Grim would appreciate that, it sure saves me money for one day knowing his appetite. Anyways, just where is Idia?”  
[Reader] debated going over to the hall of mirrors and just entering the Ignihyde dorm but they decided against it. It would be too much work if Idia were still on the main campus grounds and they were in their dorm. Was Idia even in a club? If he was, it would be worth it to check some classrooms in case he was. Thinking back on it, it wouldn’t seem likely but it didn’t hurt to check. [Reader] had been walking for about 20 minutes, popping inside classrooms just to survey the area. To no avail, Idia was not in the classroom. 
“Just where could he be? Maybe I should head over to his dorm. Oh, hey Azul!” 
Azul was walking on the opposite side and [Reader] ran up to meet him. 
“Ah, [Reader]. What a coincidence, I would have figured you had returned to your dorm by now.” 
“Normally I would have, but I’m helping some classmates drop off some documents. Hey, this may be a stretch but by any chance, do you know where Idia might be?” 
“ Idia? Oh why, yes I do. He’s still in the classroom. We just finished up our game board club meeting. He lost to me so he’s staying back to finish cleaning up. Why?” 
“He’s the one I’m dropping the documents off to. So, where is the club room?” 
“ Down the hall, turn right and it’s the second door on your left.” 
“ Thank you, Azul! I’ll see you around, kay?” 
“Of course. If you however require my services sooner, you know where to find me.” 
“Nice try, but at the moment I’m not interested in making a deal right now.  Maybe later if I forget to study for an exam.” 
“But of course, take care.” 
Azul left back to his dorm, leaving [Reader] to seek out his directions to the club room. When they arrived, they opened the door to see Idia sitting at the desk on his phone. 
“Oh hey, Idia-” 
Idia jumped in his desk, whipping his head around to stare at [Reader] in a frazzled state. 
“W-what a-are you doing h-here!?” 
“Calm down Idia, not here to hurt you. Anyways, someone asked me to drop off these papers to you. One of your housemates. Anyways, what are you doing?” 
“You c-can leave them on the t-table.” 
Idia’s eyes avoided [Reader’s] and he ignored their question. [Reader] walked closer, leaving the documents on the table as asked. They turned to look at his screen, looking at all the graphics displayed on the screen. 
“That looks interesting, what’s this about?” 
“It’s a game. . .” 
“Right, I can see that. What is it about?” 
Idia continued to advert his gaze, muttering under his breath under the assumption that [Reader] could not hear him. 
“Like you would care. . .” 
“I would actually.” 
A snarky and slightly offended response left [Readers] unamused face. Idia let out a squeak, he didn’t think [Reader] would hear that. [Reader] let out a huff, pulling a chair out and sitting across from Idia. 
“Idia, you know I’m not from here right? I don’t know much about media and franchises here in Twisted Wonderland, but I was interested in content like this back in my world. So humor me, what is this game about?” 
Though he was still unable to look them in the eye, not that [Reader] minded, he continued to explain the game franchise. 
“It’s an adventure-based role-playing game following an adventure party on a mission to take down the demon king. The party consists of characters that you get to pick, unlike most games where you’re given a party member. This game is different because it relies on your choices to advance as well as you making your combat type distinct. It has an online server where you can complete side quests while the main story updates.” 
He spoke fast, never sparing a glance at [Reader]. He was just waiting for them to become uninterested or to look at him in annoyance. He was waiting for the insults and the questionable glances of ‘you’re weird’ and ‘fucking loser’. 
“Hm, so it’s a fantasy-based combat game. Does this mean that all the party members are different fantasy races? I’d like to see the party members that you can pick, or do you get to customize them as well?” 
“ O-oh u-uh. . .” 
Idia has always seen the negative side of everything, but being realistic he didn’t give you enough credit. Sure, most people stop listening after that initial description but a few brave soldiers still stick around until he continues. He’d surely lose your interest with his extensive knowledge of the game's lore. 
“Well, not exactly. You can make your character, but the other party members are already designed and have a story to go with them. All you do is equip weapons and artifacts to strengthen them.” 
“Oh, I love customizable characters. Can I see yours?” 
Alright, so you’re one of those few brave soldiers who may be interested in a nerdy ramble. Idia began to click and swipe at his screen, eventually passing it to [Reader]. [Reader] began to inspect the character, looking at all the features that Idia placed on them. 
“Woah, they look badass. I like your character’s style, but it looks like they aren’t human-like. Are they fantasy-based characters? What kind?” 
Idia couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment it happened, but his face softened and went from stoic to a more relaxed one. His eyes began to shine with passion as he began to talk about his character, gaining [Reader’s] undivided attention. [Reader] nodded and paid attention when he spoke, asking questions about the game’s lore and characters. Idia answered all their questions with a more enthusiastic chirp, throwing some jokes here and there. The atmosphere changed from tense to a more comforting one as they continued to speak losing track of time. 
“. . .but you don’t meet this fantasy race until act III in the game, even then they’re an antagonistic species until you clear the next three acts, that’s when it clears up. Eventually, you can add this character to your party or can update the way your character looks after-” 
The sound of the classroom door opening snapped Idia from his daze, and he turned to look at the door. 
“Idia, here you are!” 
“Ortho. . what are you doing here?” 
“Idia, it’s been three hours since you were supposed to be back. I came to see where you were. Don’t you remember, the new update for the game was dropping later tonight?” 
“Three hours. . .?” 
[Reader] and Idia panicked, both scrambling up from their chairs, 
“ Oh my gosh, I had no idea time went by so fast. I need to get home and do my homework!” 
“I forgot about my game! S-sorry, I probably bugged you with my spiel-” 
“Not at all, Idia! Honestly, this game sounds cool I might check it out. Well, I wish I could considering I don’t have a platform to play it. Crowley is very stingy with what he gives out. I don’t even have a phone to use, or else I would have asked for your contact info. I’ll catch you later, hopefully maybe one of these days I can see you in class. Take care, Ortho!” 
[Reader] patted Ortho’s shoulder before leaving the classroom. Ortho nodded enthusiastically, wishing [Reader] the same. He turned around to where Idia was standing. Idia was quiet, his eyes wide, and on his face was a dopey grin. His cheeks were lightly flushed, adding color to his pale skin. 
“ Iida? What’s wrong?” 
“Ortho, I’m going to class tomorrow.” 
~~ 
It had been roughly two months since that encounter. Idia never expected it to get this bad. They kept their promise, and [Reader] continued to talk to him even if it was after class and in private. He knows they didn’t mean anything bad by it, but he loved the idea of being their little secret. Held occasional yet school-related conversations in public, but the moment the class ended [Reader] and he would talk for hours. Sometimes, they would come over to the Ignihyde dorm to play games with him or indulge in certain content and media. Ortho was very excited, not only was he able to see his brother form a friendship with someone so close instead of online, but he could also see his brother having a slightly more positive outlook on life. However, he remained haunted by the grim reminder that he would be head of the S.T.Y.X organization and wouldn’t be able to enjoy the luxuries he was experiencing now. Despite all that, he was smiling a lot softer and looking forward to the next meeting. So in other words, everything was content and alright. There was no need for him to hijack the cameras to stalk [Reader], but he did it anyway. 
“Well, no matter. What’s done is done. Now I need to make sure they get home safely.” 
Idia softly smiled at the cameras, looking at [Reader] talking to Grim. They had a smile on their face as well, no doubt teasing the poor kitty. 
‘ They’re so pretty. . .hopefully they like my surprise.’ 
[Reader] was walking with the freshman to the Ramshackle dorm. They were going to drop off some stuff before heading out to the hall of mirrors. As they arrived at the entrance, they were greeted by a ghost. 
“Good afternoon, [Reader] and Grim! How were your classes?” 
“ Afternoon! Nothing too busy, but we just got assigned a major project.” 
“Man talk about annoying, Riddle kept reminding us how important this project was for the freshman.” 
Ace complained with Deuce sharing a similar face of dismay, clearly stressed about the project itself. 
“Vil was the same, he said that I could not afford to get a low score and tarnish Pomefiore’s reputation. This must be a pretty serious project.” 
Jack rubbed the back of his head, “Leona hasn’t mentioned anything yet. If all your housewardens are saying something no doubt when I get back to Savannaclaw he might mention it.” 
“If the project must be this serious, then I cannot score anything but the highest marks! The pride of Diasomnia, no. . .the pride of Malleus-Sama rests on my shoulders!” 
“Cool, anyways. . .” 
The rest of the group disregarded what Sebek was spouting about. The ghost chuckled, before leaving to the living room and returning with a package in hand. 
“Someone came by to drop this off. We don’t know what it is or from whom. There was no name on the package.” 
“Oh, for us?” 
“Seems like it.” 
Curiosity spread among them as they were all devising in their heads what it could be. 
“You don’t think it’s a. . .no it couldn’t be!” 
“But it might be. . .” 
“It might be a what?” 
Grim turned to Ace and Epel who shared mischievous smiles, “Oh you know. . .” 
“Pay them no mind, Grim. They’re just trying to scare you.” 
Deuce waved the two off and reassured Grim that it was all right. [Reader] examined the box, shaking it a little. It felt heavy, but there was no sound with the shake. It might either take up the whole box or it might be very secure. They walked inside their dorm with the others following suit. They sat on the couch and proceeded to open the package. Ripping open the box, they turned to see that it was a new phone. 
“A phone. . .?” 
“ WOAH! NOT JUST A NEW PHONE, IT’S THE LATEST MODEL!” 
Everyone exclaimed, eyes wide as saucers. 
“It is. . .?” 
“Hm, you don’t suppose Crowley got it for us do you?” 
Grim turned to look at [Reader] who scoffed at the idea, 
“Hell no, since when has that man cared for us?” 
“Fair enough, but who do you think it was from?” 
“ Not sure. .  .” 
“ Well whoever it was, they must be loaded!” 
Ace pointed out, [Reader] looking up at him. 
“Surely it can’t be that much...  could it?” 
“It’s over 200,000 Thaumarks!” 
“THAT MUCH!?” 
Grim and [Reader] turned to each other in shock. There was no way Crowley would cough up that much money for them, surely this was a mistake. 
“ Do you think they maybe got the wrong address?” 
“Nope! The postman that delivered it said the package was addressed to a [Reader].” 
“So who could be this generous patronage?” 
“Who knows, but whoever it is. You better take care of that as your life depended on it!” 
“ Got it, maybe I can ask Idia how to set it up. Surely it can’t be too different than the models back in my world, but if it is that much I can’t risk it. Alright, let us go now.” 
“ Do you guys want to go to Monstro Lounge to eat and talk about the project?” 
Sharing nods, everyone set off to Monstro Lounge. Idia was observing through the cameras, looking to see everyone entering the Octavinelle dorm. The moment he saw [Reader] enter, he stood up and made plans to leave his dorm. He closed off all the cameras and locked his room to be safe. He turned to the door, preparing to enact his plan. He left the Ignihyde dorm, turning to the path to the Ramshackle dorm. He walked at a brisk pace. It was the perfect time, no one was near or around to see him. Upon arriving at the dorm, he turned to peek inside the windows. Luckily, the ghosts that were occupying the house didn’t seem to be near. He pulled out a key and swiftly unlocked the door. He remembered one time when he swiped their keys and made a copy of them. Casually returning them to [Reader]. He climbed up the stairs and entered their room. Looking around, he could see a very plain room. Nothing too out of the ordinary but he didn’t mind, he knew that [Reader] was hardly getting any funds from Crowley. That was why he gave them the phone, something to be able to reach them faster. Though the room was plain, there was something that did manage to catch his eye. [Reader’s] used clothing hamper. His breath hitched, slowly and carefully making his way to it. Fear that the slight movement could alert someone, even though he was alone(or was he?). Once he made it across, he peered inside. Just normal clothing, sleeping garments, and so forth. The one thing that did make him turn red, was the sight of [Reader’s] used undergarments. 
His throat was dry as he debated reaching in and taking. What would they think of him? Would [Reader] look at him in disgust? Here he was, a pervert thinking about taking the used underwear of the one he loved. Who knows what he was going to do with them? Idia shook his head, reaching in swiftly and swiping the used underwear. He shakily raised them to his face, placing the crotch area close to his nose. He inhaled deeply, [Reader’s] scent quickly invading his mind. His pants began to feel tight and his dick was hard. He was lost in a trance until he heard a voice come from the living room. 
“I wonder who could have gifted the phone to [Reader]. Do you think they have a secret admirer?” 
Idia’s eyes widened as his body temperature rose. He was horrified, beyond terrified. Tears began to well, he was going to be caught! Idia quietly scrambled to the hallway but skillfully remained undetected as he peered over the stair railway. All the ghosts were in the living room, but they weren’t near the front door. If he played his cards right, he could make it out of the dorm without bringing too much attention to himself. Idia began to walk down the stairs, luckily the ghosts were too into their conversation to hear the creaky stairs. Idia shoved the used garment into the pocket of his jacket. 
“ If they had a secret admirer, do you think it might be that fae boy who sometimes comes here at night?” 
‘The WHAT!?’ Idia internally screamed. Fae. . did he mean Sebek? Sebek knows better than to appear at night, so was it the devilish third-year Lilia Vanrogue? Sure he was an eccentric one, but even he would have morals. Idia was close to the front of the door.  Idia was so into his thoughts, that he failed to notice the ghost that was standing near the gate. The ghost turned around, with a surprised look asked, 
“Are you here for [Reader]?” 
Idia let out a squeak, holding both his arms in a defensive stance. The ghost noticed this and quickly assured him that he did not mean any harm or to spook him. 
“Didn’t mean to scare you, but [Reader] isn’t here right now. They’re at the Monstro Lounge working on a project with some peers.” 
“O-oh. . .I see. . .” 
Idia knew they weren’t here, but couldn’t raise any suspicion. The other ghosts soon came to the front door, staring at Idia. 
“Oh, what’s this? Are you a friend of [Reader]?” 
“I-I u-uh. . .d-did [Reader] get the package?” 
“ The package? Oh! Are you their secret admirer?” 
Way to go Iida, he was digging a deeper hole for himself. 
“A-a friend of mine a-asked me to make sure they got it. . .” 
His gaze was adverted to the side and his fingers were twiddling. 
“They did it! By any chance, can we know the name of your friend? Tell us, do they like [Reader]?” 
“ Y-yeah s-something like that. T-they’re a little shy so. . .well then, that’s good. U-uh, I’m going to leave n-now. . .” 
“ Take care, be safe walking back to your dorm!” 
The ghosts all wished him safe travels. Idia nodded and began to walk slowly, once he was away from the ghost’s sight of vision he scrambled back to his dorm. 
“You don’t think he was. . .?” 
“Maybe, but wait. . . isn’t he the one [Reader] likes?” 
~
Idia managed to make it to his dorm without being spotted. He entered his room and locked the door. Once he caught his breath, he made it to his bed and plopped down. He was tired, hopefully, the ghosts didn’t say anything. He closed his eyes and remained still for a brief moment before he turned, feeling the fabric of his pants rub against his hard-on. 
‘Oh’
His cheeks reddened and his hair changed from a blue to a purple shade, close to pink. He reached into his pocket, taking out the used underwear. His other hand went to his pants, slowly freeing his hard cock. His breath hitched, he placed the used underwear up against his nose and inhaled deeply. His eyes rolled back at [Reader’s] scent and his free hand went to his dick, wrapping around it. Pre was already forming at the tip, he rubbed his cock up and down slowly, starting a soft pace. 
“Fuck. . .” 
His lidded and glossy eyes stared on, he slowly opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out. He gave a long striped lick, tasting whatever remained on the underwear. Whatever little control he had broke, he began to gradually fist his cock as he inhaled and exhaled. He was constantly giving licks as well, his body was moving on his own. He rolled over and entangled his legs with his bedsheets. He let the underwear fall on the pillow and dove nose-first into it. With his right hand, he began to grip the sheets. He rutted into his fist. His mind wandered to [Reader], how would they feel. If they saw him right now, what would they say? Would they call him a disgusting pervert? How dare he get off on your used underwear. How pathetic he is, rutting into his hand thrusting into his bed trying to find the right pace and friction to get off. Fucking pathetic, look at this loser jerking off to the idea of even being able to touch you. 
“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-oh fuck-!” 
He imagined if [Reader] was into it as well. Would they step on his disgusting dick? Would they tease him, call him all kinds of names? Would they make him fuck himself before he even had the chance to fuck them? Idia was thankful for his pillow, other than being able to rest the used underwear so that he could smell and taste as much as he wanted. He was also able to hide his pathetic moans and whines. He was drooling, eyes rolling back and tears welling up. 
“Fuckfuckfuck, I’m gonna-shit I’m gonna come-” 
How their warm insides would feel. How their hole would clamp and clench around his dirty and pathetic cock. Imagine how it would feel to relentlessly fuck them. 
“W-wanna touch them, w-wanna fuck y-you, [R-reader]!? W-wanna c-come i-inside you-ha fuck!?” 
Would they let them come inside? How it would feel, leaving his warm thick sticky cum inside them. When he’d pull out he’d see the thick glob that left their used and abused hole that was stretched out just for him. 
“C-Cumming!??” 
Idia’s eyes rolled back as his back arched, his right hand gripping the sheets and his knuckles turning white, blowing his load into his hands. His cum shoots out to stain his bedsheets. His cum was warmer than average, how would they feel? Would they feel warm and satisfied? Sweat was coating his skin and he struggled to catch his breath. His left hand released his now limp dick and his right let go of the bedsheets. He lifted his body, getting on his knees and he looked at the pillow and [Reader]’s now soiled underwear. 
“I l-love you so much. . .[Reader].” 
[Reader] kept true to their word and turned to Idia for help setting up their phone. 
“Oh, okay so I do this right?” 
“You’re no better than a noob finally learning how to use a handheld console.” 
[Reader] sent Idia an unamused look, but let out a laugh. Idia smiled, but changed his face the moment [Reader] turned to look up again at him. 
“It’s standard, it’s similar to most models back in my world though some features are completely new. Hey Idia, can I ask you a question? Is this really the latest model and  worth 200,000 thurmarks?” 
“It’s the latest model and now it’s super rare. Those who preordered one when the sale dropped months ago were 100% guaranteed one with a small percentage that they would be sold in stores. They only released a few in-store ones so if you didn’t get one then, it’ll be months before you get one.” 
“Woah, so it’s that special? Ace was telling me all the new stuff it was supposed to have but I just nodded and went with it.” 
“Here.” 
Idia handed [Reader] their new phone back, stuck on the contact screen. The contact read his name, ‘Idia Shroud’, with his phone number saved on it. 
“So now you can reach me. M-maybe play the game now. . .”
“Thank you Idia, I was going to ask you about that too by the way. Do you mind if I lie on your bed?” 
“Hm, no I don’t-WAIT YES I DO!” 
Idia’s scream rang through his room. [Reader]’s eyes widened as they backed away from his bed. 
“S-sorry, my bed is. . .messy.” 
“Oh, I really don’t mind but if you do that’s fine. I can just sit here unless you don’t want me to?” 
“N-no no, there is fine.” 
Idia calmed down, scooting over to [Reader] to explain how to download the game and how to set it up. 
It was like that, consistently for another two months. Idia wasn’t sure what to do, he had planned on confessing but how. Every time he thought it was the right time, someone just had to take [Reader’s] attention or ruin it for him. They could never understand them the way he did. After months of observing [Reader], playing games with them, and sharing deep meaningful conversations, Idia was the only one who could understand them. That’s what he believed, so why was it so hard to be able to confess them? No one was able to understand them to the capacity that Idia could and certainly, no one was worthy of them. Granted Idia himself didn’t feel worthy, but if he was the worm crawling underneath their shoe the other’s were the smears on the concrete. Idia huffed in annoyance, he was typing along to his online friend, Muscle Red. 
Gloomurai: Can I vent to you about something happening IRL
Muscle Red: Of course, what’s wrong? 
Gloomurai: How do you confess to someone you like? 
Muscle Red: Oh, relationship issues? 
Lilia scratched his head, geez. This was an awkward situation, it’s been a while since Lilia courted someone. He wasn’t sure how to proceed with the conversation but he was young once so it couldn’t be too hard.
Gloomurai: Not really considering there is no relationship yet, it’s more like I like someone but can’t bring myself to confess to them. 
Gloomurai: When I want to, something always happens like the universe doesn’t want us to be together. 
Muscle Red: I don’t think that's the case. I think you may need to set up a scenario where you are completely alone to confess, so you don’t have any interruptions.
Lilia winced a little when he read that back, it didn’t sound okay at first. Hopefully, Gloomurai doesn’t look too into it. 
Gloomurai: It’s a little hard, they’re quite social. Almost everyone wants to talk to them. 
Muscle Red: I’m sure if you asked to speak to them about a personal matter, they might set time aside to hear you out. Maybe that is when you confess? 
Gloomurai: I’d probably stutter over my words to get it out, they’re just too cool. . .
Muscle Red: How did you meet them? Is this a close friend or? 
Gloomurai: You could say that. They like the same stuff I like, we became friends with mutual interests. 
Lilia let out a breath of relief. Unlike back then where you either knew the person from growing up together or being interested in them because of one interaction, common interests bonded people. So this should be easy. 
Muscle Red: Hm, so then they probably know you and will feel more comfortable being near a familiar face. When trying to court someone you may want to start with a small gesture of kindness and trying to find time alone to be able to confess to them. That was how most of the time it worked then, but since this is a close friend they might already be able to pick up signs. [MESSAGE UNABLE TO SEND. TRY AGAIN.] 
Muscle Red: You may have to be bold. Do something that they might never expect from you. Try to get them to see you in a different light than just a friend. If you’re able to do that then surely you can win them over, who knows maybe they’ll fall for you just as much. 
Muscle Red: Do something that still falls within their comfort level to show that you still care and know certain things about them. I think once you’re able to show them how you care for them but also make them see you, I think that helps a lot. They already like spending time with you and enjoy common interests, so really, it shouldn’t be too hard. [MESSAFE UNABLE TO SEND. TRY AGAIN.] 
Gloomurai: So try something bold, something that makes them notice my feelings for them? 
Muscle Red: Exactly. 
Gloomurai: Hm, thank you. I think I know what I should do. Thank you for this, really :)). Thank you for helping me defeat the boss too lol. C U!
Muscle Red: see you! 
Gloomurai left the chat. 
Muscle Red left the chat. 
Lilia looked to the bottom right screen on his PC, looking at the symbol representing the internet. 
“My, of all times it seems that the internet went out. Hopefully, they were able to read my messages and understand what I was trying to say. Oh well, they seemed to understand so hopefully it helps. Ah, young love certainly never fails to move my heart. Now, onto the internet.” 
And so, that is where we find ourselves now. Idia was pacing around his room, biting his nails and muttering to himself. 
‘Shitshitshitshitshitshit, what do I do? What do I do, what do I do, what do I do?’ 
[Reader] was sleeping soundly, snuggling into the bed. Clearly, this wasn’t their room and if they were to wake up, surely they would panic. The last thing [Reader] remembered was resting peacefully in their bed with Grim cuddling next to them. 
“I did use a pretty strong spell, hopefully, they wake up soon. . .” 
Idia peered over to see [Reader] they were still unmoving. He nervously made his way to them, getting on his bed and slowly crawling to them. The bed sank with his added weight, but nonetheless, they did not waver. He eyed their body, their features. Their chest was slowly rising with their steady breathing. Idia swallowed hard, his fearful expression didn’t leave his face either while he shakily extended his hand to touch [Reader]. His hand grazed their skin and his cold fingers met their warm skin. Tracing his finger from this shoulder to their forearm, touching their forehead and caressing their cheeks. He stopped breathing, afraid that it would ruin this soft moment for him. His eyes trailed down, to their chest. He removed his fingers from their cheeks and instead began to trail from their collarbone to their chest. With deep breaths and a flushed face, he started going lower. From their chest to their stomach, to their hips, and eventually, their crotch. 
“You’re so pretty. . .wanna see you more. . .” 
Idia lightly rubbed at their crotch, lazily stroking up and down. He didn’t intend to do anything and he certainly didn’t expect to hit any major pleasure zones. Idia continued to touch, not really doing much. He wondered if they were awake, what would they do if they saw him like this? Surely they would scream, be disgusted, and threaten to hurt him. 
‘Be bold’ 
Idia nervously looked over to [Reader]with their eyes still shut. He looked over at their legs, placing his hands in the middle and prying them open. His head peeked up again, no movement. He got on his knees at the foot of his bed, dragging [Reader’s] legs down too. Idia placed his hand on their bottoms, dragging them agonizingly slow. He managed to take them off without stirring them and he left them in just their undergarments. Idia began to drool at the sight but he knew the surprise was waiting underneath the undergarments. Reaching above, he pulled them down swiftly and looked. [Reader’s] sex was exposed and visibly aroused. His cold fingers went to touch their most sensitive bit, lightly tapping it. Trailing their finger up and down, they noticed their hole clenching around nothing. 
“What I would give for you to think of me touching you in your dreams.” 
Idia shakily moved his face to their sex, giving it an experimental lick. Trailing to their hole, licking around the area. He removed himself and began to such on his fingers, once they were coated with his saliva he moved them to their hole. Inserting his middle finger inside. Idia let out a soft squeal when he felt their hole clench around his finger. 
“F-Fuck. . .y-you’re so tight. . .” 
Inserting his finger in and out, creating a soft pace and causing enough lubrication to insert another finger. Idia let out a small chuckle, 
“It’s like you’re greedy hole is devouring me. . .I wonder what you’re dreaming about, [Reader].” 
As Idia continued fingering [Reader], they turned to their sensitive bits and began to lick up and down, pressing light kisses on them. He continued to do this for a bit, lightly teasing them and pumping his fingers inside them. He began to suck and that’s when he noticed it, their body twitched. Thinking it was from pleasure, he continued to tease and explore their body. Their sensitive bits were being toyed with, sucked, licked, pinched, and stroked while he fucked his fingers into them. He didn’t notice the noises they were making as they were stirring, but his heart dropped when he felt his hands wander into his hair. 
“[REA-]!?” 
“D-don’t stop. . .p-please Idia. .m’feels good.” 
He had to be dreaming! There was no way this could be real, but he didn't care. If it was a dream, then what a lovely dream it was. He nodded and returned to abuse their sex. 
“F-fuck, right there-!” 
Idia was overheating, he was eating them out with such intensity. Drool covers their sex and mixes with their juices. His fingers continued their assault, stretching them out in a scissoring motion while also reaching even areas they couldn’t with their fingers. 
“M’ feels g-good, f-fuck g-gonna cum Idia-!” 
[Reader] was coming undone, the feeling of Idia’s long tongue playing with their sex, sucking and kissing along with his fingers was a pleasure overload. When Idia’s fingers reached that soft and spongey spot inside them, curling his fingers to hit, they came. Grabbing his hair and pushing his face against their sex and bucking their hips, riding out their orgasm as they came on his face. 
“C-Coming!” 
Once they came down from their high, they released his hair. [Reader] raised their forearm to cover their eyes as they worked to catch their breath. Idia got up from the floor and got on the bed, crawling to them. 
“[R-reader]. . .I-I-I-?!” 
[Reader] removed their forearm, looking at him with glossy eyes. Idia could only gaze upon them with such love. Their body was covered in sweat, their skin was warm to the touch and their post-orgasmic face was divine. [Reader] propped themselves on their elbows, struggling to sit up on the bed. When they managed to, they turned to look at him with a dazed-out expression. 
“Idia. . .wanna make you feel good too. . .can I?” 
[Reader] asked in a slightly whiny voice that made Idia’s rock-hard cock strain against his bottoms. His breath hitched, 
“E-EH? I-I N-NO Y-YOU DON’T M-MEA-EEP!” 
Idia shrieked when [Reader] pushed him down on his bed, straddling his hips and rubbing their exposed sex on his clothed crotch. [Reader] raised their arms to remove their shirt, turning to remove his bottoms. [Reader] was able to pull down his bottoms and remove his boxer, exposing his dick. Idia’s hair turned into a pinkish hue with the rest of his skin burning up. He was embarrassed that his crush who he went down on, got to see him in a similar position. [Reader’s] hands were warm to the touch and they began stroking and rubbing his cock, jerking him off. Idia threw his head back, moaning uncontrollably and gasping as he felt their fingers play with his tip, rubbing it back and forth. Their free hand began to fondle his balls, creating a feeling of immense pleasure. Tears began to form and Idia looked at [Reader] with a face that was begging for mercy but at the same time, more. 
“O-Of fuck! F-feels so fucking good! H-having my disgusting cock t-touched by you, [Reader]! F-fuck me, please I want it s-so badly!” 
Before Idia could come, [Reader] let go of their dick. They went to their sex, rubbing their hole and inserting their finger, making sure they were stretched well. They leveled themselves to Idia’s cock and began to lower themselves down. Idia closed his eyes at the feeling of their hole clenching down hard on his dick. [Reader] was struggling themselves too, Idia managed to stretch them out pretty well. After a while, [Reader] began to move, slowly creating a slow pace while riding Idia, Their hands went underneath his shirt and to his nipples, playing with them. Their fingers caught them and began to pinch them. 
“Fuck! H-ha…f-fuck, so tight!” 
“Y-you’re so big, Idia. Feels so f-fucking good!” 
Rolling their hips to meet Idia’s small thrusts to reach that deeper part within their insides. Idia’s hands went to grab and hold their hips, keeping them steady. Idia’s left hand went to touch their sex, rubbing and stroking to make them catch their high. Both their bodies were covered in sweat and their moans echoed throughout the room. [Reader’s] movements were getting sloppy, the feeling of their climax was right around the edge. Idia could feel it too, he wasn’t going to last long but he wanted to. He didn't;’t want this moment to end. 
“I-Idia, hm feel’s so good, feel so full! W-wanna c=come. .-ha!” 
“F-Fuck [Reader]! C-Come, please c-come!” 
Relief was granted when Idia thrust one last time, spilling his seed inside them. [Reader] threw their head back and ended up cumming all over Iida. The room smelled of sweat and sex. Idia and [Reader] were both trying to catch their breath, until Idia began to thrust again. 
“W-wait I-idia! I can’t, it’s t-too much! S-still sensitive-!!” 
[Reader] placed their hands on his stomach, steadying themselves and that’s when they saw it. Idia’s glossy eyes, tears staining his face but his face was red. He looked like he was ready to cry again from the overstimulation. 
“P-please, w-want more of you. W-want to feel you-!” 
Idia began to relentlessly thrust upwards, hitting their deepest spots and continuing to play with their sex. It continued for a while until Idia had his fill, pushing [Reader] until they were no longer able to form coherent words just mindless babbles of their pleasure spilling out. Idia finally finished and managed to release inside them. He let [Reader] lie on the bed to rest, but never pulled out of them. They stayed connected even when Idia was no longer hard. [Reader] looked over at Idia who was avoiding their gaze. [Reader] smiled, breathing out before speaking, 
“I love you, Idia.” 
“H-HUH!? N-no, surely you’re just pulling my leg-” 
“Idia, we just fucked. I’m not pulling anything, you think I don’t know that you were stalking me?” 
Idia let out a whine, diving headfirst into their chest to hide his embarrassment. Wrapping his arms around their waist, pulling him closer to them. 
“I know you’ve been stalking me around. I also know you were the one who got me the phone, the ghosts told me you stopped by my house.” 
Idia peeled himself away enough to look up at [Reader] who looked at him with adoring eyes. 
“ You probably hate me, you must think I’m disgusting aren’t I.” 
“I don’t hate you, but I do think you’re pretty disgusting. I don't mind, I like how disgusting you are about me.” 
Idia gazed into their eyes before shying away, continuing to shove his face in their chest. His pink hair was a dead giveaway that he was completely enamored and not okay with that response. 
“ Oh, and I also know you jerked off to my used underwear.” 
A sob left Idia’s lip. 
Bonus: 
Muscle Red: Hello, it's been a while. So, how did it go with the one you wanted to confess to?” 
Gloomurai: Hello. It went well, I went bold as you said. I kidnapped them and I guess they were into that lol. Thank you for your advice. Now, do you want to do that quest? 
Gloomurai: Muscle Red? [MESSAGE COULD NOT BE SENT. USER MUSCLE RED IS NO LONGER AVAILABLE] 
Gloomurai: Muscle Red? :(( [MESSAGE COULD NOT BE SENT. USER MUSCLE RED IS NO LONGER AVAILABLE] 
A/N: I have no words because I lowkey hate the writing because I split it up into several days of work so it’s not only consistent but I think I cannot write smut to save my life as well I used to and well yeah. Happy birthday IRL bestie. 
1K notes · View notes
spaceycowboys · 2 years
Text
starry eyes sparking up my darkest night
pairing: aemond targaryen x female!tyrell!reader
summary: aemond has only wanted two things in his life. a dragon and to marry the pretty tyrell girl, now he has both. 
warnings: smut, literally almost all smut very little plot, virginity loss, oral sex (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), creampie, breeding kink, light innocence kink, light size kink, use of pet names, blood is mentioned two (2) times, aemond has a huge cock i don’t make the rules, and breeder balls, eye patch gets taken OFF when aemond fucks his lady wife, implied jealousy, implied voyeurism (? just incase?), out of character aemond (?), i think thats all?
notes: i am a whore for a villain. aemond is so hot i love him. this is a side blog, i just didnt want to post on my main blog, im fairly rusty at writing smut, so any and all feedback will be greatly appreciated!! please interact if you see this because i think tumblr hates me:((!! title credits: call it what you want by taylor swift
word count: 5.3k
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The wedding had been lovely, truly, but you think everyone could tell your heart wasn’t really in it. Few smiles reached your eyes, and you couldn’t lie that a part of you had felt slightly devasted you were being married in the Dragon Pit in the sight of the Seven, and not the Godswood in Winterfell that you’d come to love during your time in Cregan Stark’s presence many years ago.
You’d thought it was a grand wedding, perhaps too grand for the marriage of a second son, but Aemond is a Prince, so what did you know, besides that and the feeling that the Hand and Queen were trying to sway your father’s loyalty to them when King Viserys joins his late wife, perhaps even go as far as to hope for the favor of your lady mother’s family.
An extravagant weeklong event. Tourneys and hunts and beautiful dinners with lots of dancing. Many lords and ladies had come, many of your friends from childhood present and even your eldest brother. It made the evening feel less lonely for you to be in the presence of people you know so well.
You had been surprised, however, to see the Princess Rhaenyra present with her husband (uncle?) and their children. You heard often of the animosity between the two families, and you were sure she wouldn’t have come. You’d been even more surprised when she had approached you at, a smile on her pretty face.
“Lady Tyrell, you make a most beautiful bride,” She smiles fondly at you.
Aemond tensed next to you, so did the Queen when her next words left her mouth before you could even let out a proper thank you for her compliment, “Though, I must say I am disappointed that your father had not chosen my own son to be your husband. We were heavily in discussion regarding it.”
Your eyebrows furrow as your head turned over in the direction of your father who was seated to your left, “I must say, Princess, I did not know I had many suitors.”
“Why would she want to marry your Strong son, dear sister, when she had better offers?” Aemond spit the words out hatefully at the same time you try to answer her, glaring over her shoulder at the son in question. Jacaerys.
You’d met him on a few occasions, and he was a kind boy. A little closer to your age than your now husband. You didn’t think you knew him well enough to warrant any sort of affections from him, but you suppose that doesn’t matter, since you’d only met Aemond once as children before your father received the letter of the marriage offer from the Hand of the King.
“Aemond,” Alicent had hissed through gritted teeth, “this is a joyous occasion, one you had wanted so desperately. So, please, do not.”
Your now husband huffed out a bitter laugh before grabbing his cup and drowning the rest of his drink. You furrow your eyebrows at her words and look to Aemond slightly confused. He wanted to desperately marry you?
Rhaenyra ignored his comment and stayed looking at you, eyebrows having a slight furrow at your words, “You are a beautiful young woman and you come from one of the great houses, I can promise you that your father was drowning in marriage offers. But I do hope you will be happy here, with my dear brother.”
She walks away before you could say anything, tensing to stop a flinch when Aemond slammed his cup down harshly.
“That fucking cunt. How dare she come over here and say all those things. As if we did not just get married. As if your husband is not sitting right fucking next to you.” He was seething, and it honestly shocked you. You have barely even spoken to him; you really didn’t think he even liked you much.
“Aemond, you will watch your mouth in front of your wife,” Alicent spoke out, slightly baffled that he would say such things in front of you, in front of your family.
Your father is tense next to you, and you place your hand on his own and squeeze. This can’t be that bad. You can endure it.
As you look at Aemond, you can’t help but wonder if he will even be so bad. As if he can hear your thoughts, his hand moves to rest tenderly on your own.
The rest of the evening blurs together until Aegon stumbled his way over to where you were seated, “I believe we should be approaching the bedding ceremony soon, dear brother?”
And though his words had been directed at your husband, you felt his lust and drunk eyes on you. The mention of the bedding ceremony had you tense, and Aegon’s eyes don’t do anything to soothe your nerves.
“There will be no bedding ceremony.” Aemond spoke without a waver in his voice. What?
Aegon’s head snapped towards his brother, “And why the fuck not? It’s tradition.”
Aemond hummed, unamused, “I will not make a spectacle of my lady wife.” His words make your heart soften slightly
“She will not be your lady wife for long if there is no proof.” Aegon tried not to sound as desperate as he felt.
“There will be blood on my sheets come morning and a babe in her belly,” Aemond spoke as he stood up, towering over his older brother before he moved his face close enough to where no one, except you- much to your embarrassment, “though I do suppose if you are that concerned, you may stand outside my quarters and listen for the confirmation that my marriage has been consummated.”
Aemond takes your hand and pulls you from the room after that, moving quickly as if attempting not to be noticed.
“Why are we not doing the bedding ceremony? Is it not tradition? Will we not get in trouble?” Your voice is slightly panicked at the idea of getting in trouble for not doing what you are supposed to do, causing him to stop outside the door of his chambers and look at you.
“I would not feel like a very good husband if there were a bunch of old men with greedy eyes seeing your bare body before I got to see it,” He looks serious, and he sounds it as well. Though his voice lowers slightly into a possessive tone when the next words come out, “I also would not like anyone to see it after I do.”
                                                        εїз
Large hands take the many pins out of your hair before gently starting to unknot and remove the many intricate braids the servant girls spent hours doing not long ago. It feels like a waste, makes you feel as if you are a spectacle for viewing and gawking at only.
Which you suppose you are- if you were being honest with yourself. You’d been lucky to inherit not only your mother’s beauty, but as well as the charm that all the women from your lord fathers house seem to have.
You wonder why he insisted that the handmaiden leave, from what your mother told you it was typical of them to prepare you for the upcoming moments.
Your hair is abandoned for the strings at the back of your dress once Aemond has removed all the braids. The air is cold on your back and your hands are shaking when his own move to touch your bare skin in a way that no one else has. One hand is on the nape rubbing in an almost affectionate way as the other moves to pull the extravagant gown from your body.
You didn’t think you could get anymore tense than you already were, until your wedding dress dropped from your body unceremoniously onto the cold ground.
Goosebumps cover your body as you’re fully exposed to the cold air, despite the fire going in the fireplace. His hands move to map your body, starting at your shoulders and slowly moving down to your hips.
His lips on your neck causes you to gasp in surprise, your belly warming at the feeling of not only his lips on you but his hands on your hips, squeezing softly at the skin and biting back a grown when the reach your ass.
His mouth moves from your neck to your shoulders, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses on your skin as he makes his way down your back. You close your eyes at the unfamiliar feeling stirring inside you, a surprised gasp escaping you when a dull bite lands on your hip.
You feel his smile against your skin as he does the same to your other hip before he stands up to make his way around your body.
He stands in front of you, fully clothed still despite having taken off all of your clothing, leaving you bare for him to feast upon with his eye.
Aemond’s hands are calloused and rough, you assume from years of sword training and dragon riding, as they caress your face. His bright eye locked on yours, watching for any reactions. Thumbs trace under your eyes, over your nose, and your lips.
“Have you ever been touched this way?” His voice is quiet as his hands move down your neck towards your collarbones.
“No, my Prince,” Your voice pitches up at the end when his mouth finds your neck again, his teeth piercing your skin again.
“Not even your own hands?” His tone is serious but the smirk you feel against your skin lets you know he’s teasing.
You feel your face heat up at his implication. “No. Never.”
Aemond lets out a pleased hum at your words, soft voice stirring something primal in him.
His mouth is on yours before you can think of something else to say. His lips are a little dry, something you didn’t notice when he kissed you earlier at the wedding. One hand grips your hip as the other tangles into your hair, tugging lightly causing you to gasp. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.
It’s an unfamiliar feeling, all of it is, though. You’re overwhelmed and throbbing at your core.
Can he hear your heartbeat as well as you can? It’s pounding in your ears along with a rush of heat that takes over your whole body.
His tongue coaxes yours to move against it, and you wonder if this is how it’s supposed to feel. If you’re supposed to feel this good. Are you even allowed to feel this good? Your handmaiden had told you on many occasions      that men only cared for their own pleasure, and you would be feeling a lot of pain. This didn’t feel like anything she described.
Aemond pulls his mouth from yours and looks at you with a hooded eye, pupil so blown you can’t see the blue of it. There’s a light flush on his cheeks as he looks at your swollen lips.
“You are quite beautiful, my lady.” It’s said so quietly, you wonder if it was supposed to be a secret. You’d like to know all his secrets, you think.
When you don’t respond, his mouth attaches itself to your neck. A sharp pain if him biting is followed by a light sucking as if to soothe it.
You aren’t sure where to put your hands, they’ve stayed at your side due to your shyness and uncertainty.
“Have you been with many women?” The question leaves your mouth before your mind even processes that you’ve asked it.
His mouth stops moving against your skin as your blood runs cold, shaking, and wide eyed when he pulls away to look at you.
Sharpe eye studies your features, like a lion about to eat a lamb. Or, perhaps, a dragon ready to burn a rose.
He steps back, taking your hand as he sighs and looks away from you in, shame?
“When I was thirteen, Aegon took me to a brothel. Told me it was time to get it wet,”
You grimace at his word choice, but when you see how he’s looking at you, you squeeze his hand.
“To put it lightly, my dear lady, it was not a very nice experience. I have been with very few women since,”
Shame fills you at his words, and before he can continue you speak quickly, “I am so sorry, I did not mean to push you into speaking about an event you-“
His hands are back on your face, holding your cheeks, “You are my wife.” It’s a statement, and his words come out slightly harsh, “You are entitled to every piece of me. I will tell you everything you wish to know about me,”
His kiss is full of fire this time, claiming your lips with such an intensity. His body is pressed full against yours; you can feel his toned chest through his shirt. The fabric is soft against your chest, and as if they have a mind of their own, your hands start grasping at them hem of it desperately.
“Aemond,” It’s the first time you’ve spoken his name that way, he likes the way it sounds. Desperate, needy. Maybe he just likes that it comes from you.
Aemond was nine the first time he saw you, still had both eyes back then. You’d been visiting the Keep with your father. The King wanted updates about something, Aemond didn’t know or care what it was. All he knew was that you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.
You had such grace and were so kind. Helaena didn’t have many friends at court due to her fascination with insects. But you held all the creepy crawlers she held out to you, spent the day reading to her so she didn’t have to pull herself away from the bugs.
You were younger than him, but he didn’t care. He liked the way your voice sounded as you read to Helaena, how you laughed when she would whisper out name ideas for her bugs and then look to you to see if the name suited the bug, how you smiled at him when you would catch him sitting just far enough to not be seen but to hear.
You left with your father, and then a year later he heard a servant that you’d been taken to Winterfell to see how you’d pair with Cregan Stark.
After he lost his eye, he told his mother it was a fair trade, and that he’d gotten Vhagar in return, so it didn’t matter. But after he heard Rhaenyra speak of you to Daemon, of her hopes to marry you to Jace, he back tracked.
When they returned to King’s Landing from Driftmark, he told his mother he felt like he deserved to choose his future bride- and that he would want you in return for his lost eye. Truly the rest was history; she brought the request to Viserys stating that it was the least he could be given after what was taken from him.
Viserys allowed it but stated that it would have to be on your father’s terms on when and how if he agreed. It was no surprise that he did agree, though. Lord Tyrell is a proud man and agreed after a few years of discussion and persuasion.
“My lady,” Your thighs involuntarily press together at the way he says it, like he owns you; and he does.
He smirks at the way your body reacts to him just speaking, “May I touch you?”
You moan and breathe out a whine, “If you’d like,”
He pulls away from you just enough to remove the shirt from his body, and then he grabs your hands and places them on his chest.
“I’d like it if you would touch me as well,” His request comes out confident, almost like a demand. Almost everything he says causes more and more heat to flood your body and your lower stomach.
Your shy hands trace over the whole expanse of his chest, rubbing, squeezing, light scratching. Your eyes stay on his face, drinking in every reaction. The way he opens his mouth and lets out a breathy gasp, how his eye closes, and head goes back when you scratch lightly over his pectoral muscles.
With a sudden surge of confidence, you slowly move closer and place a light kiss on his neck. A quiet groan leaves his mouth in response, and you take it as encouragement to continue. A hand moves to your head, lightly holding the back of your neck in place as you suck and bite as he did to you.
You don’t register that he’s been moving you backwards until your knees hit the bed, causing you to gasp and pull away.
Both his hands are back on your face as he slowly lowers you so you’re lying flat, you go to question him when he doesn’t join you, but to your confusion he moves to his knees between your legs.
“What are you-“ The question dies on your tongue when you feel his hands move up your thighs and close to your core.
This is definitely not normal. You’ve never heard of this being part of any bedding. In a panic your hands rush to his face as it gets closer to your core, “What are you doing?”
His eye finds yours and studies your face before smirking, “Just lay back and let me make you feel good, wife.”
Before you can respond you feel his tongue on you, no- in you.
“Oh, gods.”
It’s really unlike anything you’ve ever felt, it’s nearly overwhelming. All you can feel is him. His hands on your inner thighs holding you open for him, his fingers gripping so hard they’re surely leaving bruises, his tongue, gods his tongue.
A finger lightly traces at your entrance, teasingly. The finger makes its way inside you as he sucks on your clit.
“Aemond,” He pulls away at his name leaving your mouth, eye finding you with your head back and hands clutching the bedding at your sides so tightly your knuckles are turning white.
His free hand reaches for one of your own, intertwining your fingers, eye not leaving your face as he adds another inside you, scissoring the two of them lightly while his thumb rubs circles on your clit.
“Do you feel good?” His tone is slightly cocky, but when your eyes look at his face, you see he looks slightly shy.
Before you can respond, his fingers curl inside you and you’re eyes are squeezing shut as a sharp whine leaves your mouth. He hums thoughtfully at your reaction before doing the same thing again, again, again until.
“Oh, please, please, please,” Your nails are digging into his skin, so hard it may be drawing blood, and your thighs begin shaking by his head when his mouth finds your clit again. His fingers don’t falter inside you until your voice pitches up due to the overstimulation.
You finally open your eyes and watch as he sticks the two fingers that had just been inside you into his mouth before looking at you with a smirk as he leans his head back down to lick from the bottom of your cunt back up to your clit.
Wheezing, your thighs move to close themselves as both your hands reach for his head to push him away from you.
Aemond lets out a laugh as he pulls away from your cunt and crawls up your body. Big arms cage you in as he looks at you with something akin to adoration.
“You taste so good,” He says it in such an attractive manner, you’ve never though any words like that would sound so good coming from someone’s mouth. “Would you like to try it?”
You flush at his words, embarrassment filling you before you nod shyly. His smirk deepens as he presses his mouth to yours.
You moan at the feeling of his mouth back on your own, gasping when his hands places itself on your breasts and tweaks with your nipples, and Aemond takes the opportunity to shove his tongue in your mouth when you do.
The taste is slightly sweet, slightly bitter. Tangy, would be a better word, maybe like a Dornish wine or an orange. His cock is straining in his pants as he presses himself up against your cunt, the size takes you by surprise. It feels large, much bigger than his fingers and much too big to fit inside you, but between the feeling of his hands on your breasts, the heat coming off of his bare chest where your hands dig into his shoulders, and the taste of yourself on his mouth as his tongue maps out the inside of your mouth.
A surge of boldness fills you and you remove a hand from one of his shoulders and reach between the two of you, grabbing lightly and unsurely at his cock. The action causes him to pull away from you as a surprised moan leaves his mouth.
There’s a fire in his eye as he looks at you, watching you as you look up with him with uncertain yet shining eyes at everything you’re feeling for the very first time. At his hands no less.
A smirk crawls it’s way back on it’s face, “Do you want to make me feel good, little wife?”
“Yes,” Your answer causes him to let out a pleased hum, but to your confusion he pulls your hand away from his cock.
“Next time I’ll teach you how to please me the way I did you. I don’t want to overwhelm you this time,” His eye holds tenderness as he says the sweet words that light your body on fire.
“This is not how I expected tonight to go,” Your shy words cause a sympathetic smile to show on his features.
“Many husbands don’t care for their wife’s pleasure,” His hands are untying the laces on his pants as he moves up from the bed to strip himself of them. Pride fills him when your eyes widen at the site of his cock.
It’s long and thick, it sits hard and proud up against his stomach, almost hitting his naval. It’s as pale as the rest of him, slightly red at the tip. A bead of precum drips from the tip and down his shaft, your eyes follow it to his balls. There also big, no surprise. The hair so pale that if there is any, you can’t see it. They look heavy, almost uncomfortable.
“Does it hurt?” The question spills out of your mouth, and Aemond wants to laugh until he sees how serious you are.
“No, it’s just uncomfortable,” You’re wide eyes find his face again, another question that almost makes him laugh.
“Will it fit inside me?” You really don’t think it will, or if it does, it’ll be in your stomach. The though makes you nervous.
“We’ll go slow, if you’d like,” He crawls back on top of you, hands finding your thighs so he can fit his body in between them.
His cock is hot against the skin of your thigh, the tip lightly brushes your folds causing you to shiver. His hand grabs at the base of his cock, guiding the tip from your clit to your hole, then back up. Little gasps leave you every time it bumps against your clit or catches on your tight hole.
Aemond holds a lot of restraint, but he can only hold so much, “I’m going to put it in now,”
He looks to you for you to consent, but tenses when your hands shyly reach up at the leather straps of the patch covering his eye.
“Can you take this off?” Your eyes hold no fear, just slight uncertainty.
His face doesn’t change at all, “I’d rather not scare you-“
“I am bare before you, as your wife. You could be bare for me as my husband, as well.” You’re voice doesn’t shake at all, for the first time all evening, he notes.
With a sigh, he takes his hand from your thigh and closes his eye as he takes the patch off. He doesn’t want to see your inevitable reaction of fear or disgust before you turn over and have him take you from behind.
Aemond flinches when he feels your hand tracing his scar, from his forehead, over the sapphire in place of where his eye should be, down to where it ends.
He hears you take in a shaky breath before your mouth is diving up towards his, and for the first time all evening you’ve taken control of something. He enjoys it, the way your tongue forces its way into his mouth.
He kisses you back with the same amount of energy, sucking on your tongue and nipping at your lips until you pull away. His eye studies you, the lust filled look in your eyes and flush covering you with swollen, wet lips.
“You may take me now, Aemond,” The words are but a whisper, but he hears you clearly.
His cock is, now, painfully hard as he nods and tightens his grip so he can carefully guide himself inside you.
He hisses though his teeth at the feeling of your cunt, slick and warm and tight, enveloping his cock. You’re the tightest thing he’s ever felt.
An animalistic feeling nearly overcomes him. He feels a primal need to shove his cock all the way inside you, rip through your maidenhead and fuck you full of him. He want to see your blood on his cock as he thrust inside you, fill you full of him, fuck you so hard there’s no questioning if his seed took tonight.
The feeling is slightly different for you. The stretch is uncomfortable, and it stings slightly, it causes you to feel so full you may burst or overfill. He goes slow, like he promised, but you can feel his body shaking above you as he restrains himself from taking you like an animal.
When he reaches the barrier of your maidenhead, he halts, “I have to push a little harder, here,”
A flash of fear flashes through your eyes for a brief moment before you nod for him to continue.
With a shaky exhale, he pulls back slightly and then pushes forward sharply, a little too sharply. Because the next thing he knows you’ve got tears streaming down your face and his pelvis is flush with yours. It’s hot and so, so tight. It, you, feel so fucking good.
His mouth is hanging open slightly as he breathes heavily, trying to gain control over himself. When he looks down at you, he feels guilt coarse through him.
“Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry,” You take not that while his voice doesn’t sound sorry, his eye shows that he is. Hands reach for your cheeks so he can wipe the tears that have been falling from your eyes away.
You remove an arm from around his shoulder and move your hand to grip at a wrist that is by your face, “It’s okay-“
His voice is strained, “Oh, fuck, it’s not. I told you we would go slow,”
His eye holds guilt, but you can’t help but notice how beautiful he looks above you. No eye patch covering his features, his hair, though still pulled back, slightly messy, sharp facial features gleaming in the moonlight and the light from the fire.
He thinks you look unreal. Hair, still slightly curled, sits around you beautifully, eyes are gleaming with stars in the despite the tears from the pain still lingering, lips bruised and swollen from his own mouth.
“You can move now,” He looks unsure at your words and goes to speak his protests, but you interrupt. “Take me, husband.”
He obliges to your demand, pulling his hips back before pushing them forward. He goes slow at first, in and out at a steady rhythm, relishing in the moans and gasps and whines that leave your mouth, the chants of his name Aemond, Aemond, Aemond.
He dips his head to kiss your cheeks, down your jaw and latches onto your neck, sucking bruises into your skin as he starts thrusting deeper, harder. His pelvis grinds against your clit, and between that sensation, the pace of his thrusts when his cock hits the same spot his fingers found earlier and up to your cervix, his mouth on your neck, it doesn’t take long for your cunt to start clenching on his cock harder.
A deep groan leaves him at the way your cunt grips his cock, sucking him in and trying to keep him there forever. He would gladly stay inside you forever.
He pulls away from your neck to look at you, wanting to look at your face as you cum around his cock, as you feel his cum inside you.
Your eyes are rolled back so far he can only see the whites of them, bruises litter your collarbones and neck, marks of him all over you. Your nipples are hard and brush against his chest as your back arches while you lose yourself in the pleasure.
His balls tighten up more the longer he looks at you, and he moves his thumb to your clit, pushing you over the edge after one, two, three circles over it.
“Aemond!” Your voice sounds heavenly when you moan his name. His hips don’t falter their pace nor does his thumb stop rubbing until your cunt has loosened its vice grip on his cock. He fucks you through your orgasm and through the aftershocks before he grabs one of your legs.
You’re still shaking from your orgasm when you feel him lift your leg up and over his arm and onto his shoulder before he’s leaning over you. Your eyes shoot open at the newer, deeper angle.
“I don’t think-“
Before the sentence can leave your mouth, his hips pick up a pace very unlike the one you had just grown accustomed to. Your eyes cross as your hands shot up to his shoulders, trying to push him away and stop the overstimulation.
His head is thrown back in deep pleasure, groans and low moans of your name leaving his mouth as he listens to the wet slap, slap, slap of his body meeting yours. His pace picks up and becomes less rhythmic as his orgasm hits him.
You cry out his name with tears running down your face as your cunt clenches down for a third time, squeezing him so tightly that all he can do is push all the way in and let his cum flood you. His hips lightly move back and forth, fucking himself and you through your orgasms as you feel his cum fill you so much it starts slipping out around his cock and down your ass.              
He stays inside you as your shake in the aftermath, feeling sweaty and sticky as he presses his cheek against your own, breathing you in and just feeling you for a while before he finally pull back just enough to look at you. Bodies still pressed together, cunt still plugged with his cock to hold his cum in, to make sure it takes. To make sure his son is filling you.
His eye is holding yours in a stare, and a soft smile takes over his face as you smile up at him tiredly. He feels something warm ignite in his chest as you look at him, the glow of the orgasm, the smile on your face, a sparkle in your eyes that looks like stars.
Aemond presses his mouth to yours before you can say anything. He wonders to himself if he can light your world up the way you’re already doing his.
7K notes · View notes
walpu · 3 months
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Hello, first of all i want to say i really like your work and your writings 💞 Can i request some sickness headcanons with Aventurine when dating reader? Preferably hcs about how he would act if he was the one sick, and if the reader was sick. Thank you!
Thank you so much 🥹
Hope you'll enjoy it!
sickness headcanons with Aventurine
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characters - Aventurine notes - gn!reader, hurt/comfort, no beta
I think Aven has a weak immune system due to the hardships he faced as a child. It's quite easy for him to catch a cold even if the weather is nice.
Hates it with a burning passion.
I mean it always sucks to be sick but he hates it for a bunch of other reasons as well.
It's time-consuming and he's a busy person, that's what he tells everyone.
And while it's true, the main reason is that he simply hates being so weak and vulnerable.
He has a private doctor who treats him but Aven doesn't fully trust them either.
He usually just takes his meds and tries to walk it off. Not like he can afford to take a day-off anyway.
When the two of you start dating and you notice that he doesn't feel well, he would try to brush it off. No big deal, baby. Just a bit tired. If we cuddle I'll get better <З
He trusts you, he truly does. However, it doesn't mean he wants you to see him miserable, weak and with a red stiffy nose. He doesn't like this image of himself so what if you won't like it either?
If he has a fever he will try to distance himself from you. Doesn't want you to get seek as well, he truly doesn't wish to be a cause of your discomfort.
Plus, what good can he give you when he's like that anyway? A bit off-topic but I just keep thinking about his "you can use me however you want me even betray me <З" line and his lunar new year card where he's like "yeahhh if you spend the day with me you'll be lucky for the rest of the year soooo" babygirl i promise you don't need to bribe me or be convenient just to have some company
Would never refuse your care though. Simply can't do it, he's a weak weak man. May whine a bit at the beginning, trying to convince you that this is not necessary, but as soon as you sooth him and maybe kiss his forehead he gives up completely.
Suddenly forgets all about the possibility of you getting sick if you keep being too close to him, will cling to you like a kitten.
"Your cuddles are the best medicine~" my ass.
Would follow all of your instructions even if they're questionable.
Wants to be spoon-fed too. Anddd tuck him in. And kiss his forehead. And stay by his side until he falls asleep.
He's needy okay. He never had anyone who would care for him when he's so weak so he cherishes every moment. May even get a bit upset when he's feeling better.
Would ask you to look after him for a few more days juts to make sure he's 10000% okay. Keep dotting on his tho because what if he'll get sick again because of the lack of cuddles!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
If you're the one who's seek he'll overreact.
Like even if it's the smallest thing, he'll insist on calling his own private doctor to check on you.
You're the best thing in his life, his promised dawn. Of course he'll look after you. Even if looking after you means being a clingy mother hen.
No excuses, he'll take care of you. Even if you have seen worse. Even if you're very busy. Even if it's not that big of a deal.
The problem is. He's never looked after a sick person before.
His every attempt to nurse you back to health is overwhelming. Tries every single method he can find in the internet so please stop him if needed.
Insists on cuddling you all of the time. Generally tries to do everything you do for him when he's sick since you're literally his only example.
If you receive too many work-related phone calls from someone he would not hesitate to pick up the phone before you and say that yeah y/n is busy right now, they are sick, so the optimal solution would be for the caller to deal with their own problems, surely they are not so helpless to rely on a sick person to do everything for them :)
Just wants for you to be alright as soon as possible.
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catiuskaa · 4 months
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had to make sure you’d catch it.
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SUMMARY: no one expected jeongin to be the first to marry in the group, but furthermore, no one expected minho to be the one to ask you first, and certainly not like that.
REQUESTED! by a pookie anonnie right here. fluff!!! minho!!! yess!!! we love to see it. tysm for this, hope you like it as much as I did! <3
CW: use of sarcasm (because yes?), use of very stupid humour (because it makes everything better), one (1) mention if hyunlix (just for funsies) the one and only beyoncé is mentioned once (yes this is a warning because it’s a silly joke but it’ll make sense i promise) and welp, WEDDINGS MENTIONED 🗣️🗣️🗣️ WTF IS A COMMITMENT 👹👹👹/jkjk
WC: 2.1k
A/N: can someone tell jypapi that now I need more of Lee Know in suit and tie? thanks ^^
[☆◽️💐◽️☆]
Weddings.
Ah, yes.
That motherfucker.
It’s not like you had anything against the people that were marrying each other —God, no! Good for them!—, but rather how seeing husband and wife looking flawless and so in love made you feel.
Lonely.
As fuck.
But it all changed when you went to a wedding with a plus one for the first time. Well, he had been invited to a wedding, and you happened to be around and free.
It had been not too soon before you two started dating, but a small part of your brain knew that if you hadn’t seen Lee Minho in that gorgeous tuxedo that evening, or maybe before, when he blushed as he asked if you were free, then perhaps your choices would’ve been different —which was a blatant lie, because you were and still are head over heels for him, but we’ll keep it for comedian purposes—, because damn did that man look good in a suit.
It was when you entered the venue with him by your side, the flutters of going with your friend and crush to a wedding, of all places… the flowers, the setting, and, oh, the couple.
Everything was beautiful. It almost made you feel like you were the main character, the bride, despite the obvious knowledge that it could only be that gorgeous woman dressed in white, unlike you, in a short and fitted dress in a dark blue hue, matching your companion’s tie.
“I never would’ve thought you liked weddings so much.” Minho whispered in a soft snicker, as teasing as always, eyes fixated in the way you seemed to glow.
But you two were sat next to each other as the officiant spoke, and he was leaning close to you, his lips right by the shell of your ear, and Jesus Christ in motorbike, because he looked outstanding, and oh my god, because his hand was resting on your leg, warming up your body, that was also covered by his suit jacket because poor you had underestimated how cold a church could be, even in the end of summer.
‘Liked’ weddings? You would have cackled loudly if the setting had been more appropriate. If it meant that Minho would treat you like that every single day, you’d fucking marry one.
But instead, you chuckled softly, laying your hand on his, the one that still rested right above your knee, and you leaned too, silently reeling in the smell of his cologne.
“Never thought you’d take me to one.”
And it was not like you were going to know too soon, but to Minho, in that moment, time seemed to freeze as he stared at your features.
You smiled at him, and it had been like always, but to him, it was the most gorgeous smile he had ever had the pleasure to see, let alone cause, and it made his heart feel tight on his chest, a blush that ran to his cheeks and ears, as red-tinted as your lips, so sweet-looking that Minho had to hold back not to kiss you, keeping him from checking if they’d taste just like how they looked.
He didn’t just want to take you to weddings.
And with that thought in mind, months later, after several dates going coffe shop to coffe shop, falling in love with you, with the soft and soothing tone you spoke to his pets and how beautiful you looked like in his house, happily petting Soonie, he knew then and there that his house wasn’t his home anymore.
You were.
And he kissed you tenderly that night, struggling to find a way to express these feelings with words.
So it made both of you feel very giddy when years later, another wedding showed up.
“You’ve gotta be fucking with me.” He had mumbled, reading the mail as he entered back home. “Jagi, I’m home!” He stated loudly, the cats meowing him welcome.
You came from your study room, leaving an email half written to welcome him back for the day. He handed you the mail, but not before pecking your forehead.
“What’s going on?” You smiled softly in slight confussion, to which he grinned at you, head tilted to the first letter in the bunch.
You stared at it, your eyes turning wide, and read the sentence a couple times.
“There’s no way.” You covered your mouth, laughing in disbelief. “Our little Innie is getting married?”
“I think I lost a bet to Hyunjin.” Minho chuckled.
“Have you called him?” You smiled, excited, cheerfully going back to your study to pick your phone.
“I just saw that idiot back in JYP, he didn’t even tell us!”
Two months. Yang Jeongin, little baby bread, was marrying his now fiancé in two fucking months.
Minho couldn’t believe it, nor could you.
And then, as soon as autumn started to arrive, the first leaves turning different tones of red and yellow, falling to the ground.
Then, the wedding date came by.
[☆◽️💐◽️☆]
You embraced Jeongin’s wife in a tight hug.
“How does it feel?” You mumbled giddily, feeling Minho’s arm go back to your waist as soon as you let go of the beautiful woman dressed in white.
He’d been extra clingy the whole venue, and you had loved and cherished every moment of it. You both knew what that first wedding had meant for the other, all those years ago. It made your tummy fill with butterflies, ones that had been there ever since Minho swooshed your way.
The bride grinned happily, trying hard not to cry so she wouldn’t ruin her makeup.
“It’s like a dream I’m about to wake up from.” She snickered, cheeks covered in a pink hue that couldn’t be hidden with the light foundation she was wearing. “But you’ll get it quite soon, right?” She muttered with a smile, as if in confidence, like sharing a secret you were supposed to know.
“Ah?” But you were clueless.
Before realizing she could’ve fucked up a major canon event, his husband called her from affar, busy dealing with all the guests and the photographer, a tall man with little to no patience and lots of angry italian gestures.
“C’mon, quick.” Minho grinned next to you. “Let’s get to the chocolate fountain before someone eats all the strawberries.”
You two chuckled, sprinting towards the large set of tables and the main table, filled with different types of fruits and cheeses.
“Mmhhm!” You hummed, the warm chocolate melting on your mouth, mixing with the sweetness of the strawberry. “We really need one of these back at home.”
You two giggled and ate a couple more strawberries.
“You have chocolate in your mouth.” Minho mumbled.
You turned to face him, and he snickered, his hand traveling to your face and kissing the corner of your lip, cleaning it.
The chocolate tasted better like that anyways.
You felt your face flush, and you tutted at him playfully.
“You can look, not touch,” you mumbled with a toothy grin. “I spent so much time pissing off the makeup artists back at their place, I can’t have you ruin my lipstick, sir.” You chuckled teasingly.
“I can’t?” Minho raised his eyebrows, and you felt small under his stare, like a little prey. “Really?”
You blushed, pouting. “Minho, not fair.”
He laughed loudly at you, and then back hugged you.
“We should move before they realize we ate half of the strawberries.” He mumbled next to your ear, and cheekily nibbled on it for a second.
You giggled at his antics, and went back to where everyone was settled, joining and taking a couple of pictures with the group.
Your smile widened looking at them, groom and bride, who casually rambled about something you couldn’t hear.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Your boyfriend grinned curiously next to you.
You looked at him, your heart fluttered.
Weddings didn’t feel lonely anymore.
“They look so cute together.” You sighed. “So beautiful.”
Minho sighed too, his arm swiftly going back to your shoulders.
“Very.” He muttered softly. He wasn’t talking about the couple.
Laughter and conversations filled the air as guests, dressed in their finest, mingled beneath the gentle glow of twinkling lights.
“It’s time for the bouquet throw!” A loud voice announced.
You looked at Minho and winked teasingly.
“Hold my purse.” You smirked in between giggles. “This one’s mine.” He blushed at your determination.
It wasn’t that you had forgotten what catching the bouquet meant, rather just casually left that thought at the back of your mind.
Minho almost shivered, barely cathing your bag.
Marrying you?
Something felt heavier on the pocket of his jacket.
You settled in the group of women that stood a couple of feet away from the bride, who was laughing and pointing at someone in the midst of the girls.
“Good luck, ladies!” A low voice made you cackle loudly.
“Good luck, Felix!” You chuckled. “Good one, Hyune!” You sent a thumbs up to Hyunjin, and he laughed, blushing.
With excitement bubbling in the air, the moment arrived slowly, almost painfully so. A hush fell over the gathered guests, their eager eyes fixed on the radiant bride. She held the bouquet, a bundle of beautiful daisies, like a symbol of wishes waiting to be granted. With a grin, she turned around, and a playful spark lit up her eyes.
Full of anticipation, she raised the bouquet high above her head. Time seemed to pause for an instant, and then, with a joyful toss, she…
She… stopped?
You didn’t have time to frown in confusion when she turned around again.
The guests that had been crowded around you moved away, and the bride giddily walked towards you.
She squealed. “This is so cute. Here, girl. It’s yours.”
And she handed you the bouquet.
You blabered confused sounds of vowels, not quite understanding what was happening yet.
Gasps and other surprised reactions filled the venue, and you looked around, wondering what was all the fuss about.
“Sorry to ruin the fun, jagi.” A known voice sounded tenderly behind you, and then he giggled. “I had to make sure you’d catch it.”
With your eyes wide and your features displaying a soft grin of surprise, you turned around to face him.
“I fell in love with you in a wedding.” He started. “Not really, considering I had been pinning for you long before, which Felix never hesitated to say how down bad I was for you and how blind I was for not addmitting it.”
Your eyes swelled with tears, your hands covering your mouth. “M-Minho…”
He sniffed, holding back his own, a blush deep on his face.
“I fell in love with you over and over again, in every date we went to and every time you came by my appartment to say hi to the cats, claiming that you felt like they missed you, when it was most likely me who did.” He stared at his hands, fidgeting with them, his palms feeling sweaty.
He raised his head then, and stared deeply into your eyes. He chuckled, falling in love with you once more.
“I have a feeling that, over the course of our lives together, I will fall in love with you as many times as there are stars in the sky.” Minho smiled tearfully, a lump on his throat. “Over and over again.”
You started laughing as tears fell down your cheeks. He bent down on one knee, and your pulse faltered for a moment.
“Will you marry me?”
Because in your first wedding together, he did’t just want to take you to weddings and see other people getting married.
He wanted to marry you.
“Minho, I-” you sobbed, smiling. “Yes! Please!” You chuckled.
He hugged you tightly, and of course, just to make sure you knew who you were getting married to, he teased you.
“Like the one and only godess, Beyoncé, said once,” he mumbled in your ear, “if you like it and you’re sure, put a ring on it.”
“Minho!” You squirmed in between chuckles. “That’s not how the lyrics go!”
He shrugged. “English is hard,” he giggled. You laughed too, pulling him into a kiss.
You sure loved an idiot. But it was your idiot fiancé, soon to be your idiot husband.
Yours only.
[☆◽️💐◽️☆]
~Kats, who hasn’t been in a wedding since 2018, and i think it kinda shows lol
675 notes · View notes
cacoetheswriting · 4 months
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honesty: the music video
pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 2.3k summary: after a long day on set, you can't wait to get it on with your costar.
content warnings: 18+, minors dni: mature themes, literally smut with a minor plot, established relationship, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, praise kink, dom-ish eddie, adult language, heavy use of pet names, mentions of aftercare — if i missed anything in this chapter, pls let me know!
celebrity skin. masterlist <- part of this lil' universe, but can totally be read as a stand-alone. timeline wise, this takes place somewhere after part 3 and before end part 5.
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“We want it to be sexy.”
“But not too sexy.”
“Revealing.”
“But not too revealing.”
“Sounds like you guys don’t know what you want,” Eddie chimes in, interrupting the back and forth of your respective teams.
You stifle a giggle.
“That’s ‘cause of the two distinct styles,” someone from your team clarifies, “We wanna be respectful.”
“For sure,” one of the creatives on the Corroded Coffin side agrees. There’s a short pause. “We will have you two kiss at the end, though.”
At that, Eddie smirks. He looks at you from across the table and you could just about melt right there, blood rushing to your face, warming your cheeks.
“That won’t be a problem,” he says confidently and winks.
-
Honesty was a guaranteed hit. Top of the charts. Everybody that’s been so far involved in the project said it. They praised it. From the bass, drums, to the guitar and vocals. The production value was off the scale. A dream arrangement that would stand the test of time.
All the song needed was a music video equally as captivating.
A back and forth discourse began shortly after you first started recording with the band: whose style should the clip resemble more?
Corroded Coffin screamed all things dark, maybe a little gory. Their usual expression featured slightly melancholy undertones and a lot of references to all things Dungeons & Dragons. Imaginative, for sure. An artistry that had rarely been seen in the genre. 
Although it’s been an artistry vastly different from yours. 
The glitter hadn’t necessarily been your idea, but it certainly became a signature of sorts. Anything sparkly, always. And music videos that told a story. Most often one of love since that’s what you idolised ever since you were a kid — it obviously helped that love also sold millions of copies.
Eddie’s team argued that it’s the band’s song and you’re just a feature, therefore the accompanying video should lean into their style. Your management team was hesitant to agree. Calculating risk in case the lines get blurred a little too much and your pristine image shifts to the opposite end of the spectrum. Hours of arguments. Hours of negotiations. None of which you, or the rockstar were even mildly aware of. Too lost in each other's eyes and soft cotton sheets. 
Eventually, a compromise, of sorts, was found.
Ernest Hemingway’s The Killers influenced, in part, a 1946 film noir of the same title, with Ava Gardner and Burt Lancaster taking the lead. The movie, in turn, inspired the black and white music video.
Done up in flair of the characters, Kitty Collins and Ole Anderson (aka Swede), you recreated iconic scenes alongside the brown-eyed rockstar. The rest of the band was also dressed to the nines. Side characters that played their instruments in the background of main shots. They blended in well, while adding a unique spin to the known story. 
Overall, the Honesty shoot quickly became a big spectacle. Bigger than anything Eddie Munson and his band of closest friends has ever been lucky enough to be a part of.
Intricate sets. Glamourous. In front of cameras and bright lights, you and your scene partner, Eddie, mouthed along the lyrics to the song as if they were a script. And with every scene, as if the two of you were the only people actually there, no equipment and no crew, you got lost a tiny bit. Lost in the chocolate of the rockstar’s wide gaze. In the way he smelled. The style of that decade suited the brunette greatly, so you became lost in how he looked in this character. Dapper. Unlike you’ve ever witnessed him before. He committed to the role too. A certain swag in his movements. How he touched you so hesitantly, delicately because that’s what the video required.
By the end of the night, after the director yells, “Cut!” to signalise a wrap, a round of applause for all involved in this project, you’re feeling hot and bothered. Sweaty, though not because you just completed a full day’s work. No. Somehow, you found the Corroded Coffin frontman even more attractive than at the start of that day — something you didn’t think was possible. When you glance in his direction, he’s already staring you down, and you know he feels the same way.
Backstage, inside your trailer, you’re sitting cross-legged on the couch. Fingertips at your lips as you wait for that inevitable knock on your door. You know it’s only a matter of time considering the build up of tension throughout the shoot. From the lingering touches and that kiss the director had you two repeat over and over and over…
Logically, you could wait until the two of you were home. Back at Eddie’s Hidden Hills mansion, away from prying eyes and ears. In a bed that’s become all too familiar. Far from possible interruptions. Logic however, well, right now, logic was taking a back burner ‘cause you needed him now. Desperately. And without a doubt, Eddie needed you too.
A knock. Then again. But the rockstar doesn’t wait for you to answer. He lets himself in. 
“What happened to the wig?” You ask, raising a brow.
“It was itchy,” he replies with a slight laugh, then shakes his head. “I much prefer my natural locks.” 
“That’s too bad,” you say with a slight shrug, “You looked quite smart with that short hair.”
Eddie hangs his head with a smile, though his eyes don’t leave yours. Not even for a second. That’s when you notice the glimmer. That look, the reason he’s here, just like you predicted. So you return the expression. Only yours is a little more sly. Tempting him. Teasing. 
“I had fun today.”.
“Me too.”
There’s a lot that happens in the seconds after you stand up. A lot that happens quickly. 
Eddie reaches for your wrist, pulling you closer before wrapping his, for once, ringless hand around yours completely. He presses it to the middle of his chest, holding it against his heart. You can feel it beating and that’s enough to make you melt ‘cause it’s strong and you swear it skips at the contact. His other hand reaches for the base of your throat. He holds it gently, caressing upwards until he’s gripping your jaw. 
“Kissing you in front of all those other people kinda got me going,” he admits in a low tone.
Naughty, that’s what you want to say, but you don’t get the chance ‘cause his lips crash into yours. Hungry. Desperate. Rough. Heat rushes through your body at the sudden contact, no different than any other time his mouth found yours. You’re at his mercy, always, and he knows it well. 
His tongue glides along your top lip and you part your lips to accept him without hesitation. He wastes no time sliding into your mouth, letting this tongue work in tandem with yours as he tilts his head to further deepen the kiss. The hand holding yours lets go, instead finding home on the small of your back, pushing you as close to him as humanly possible. His other hand lets go of your jaw, albeit not completely. Ghosting along the side of your neck before you feel him wrap it around your throat, squeezing lightly. It’s nothing new for Eddie to be a little rougher with you, but there’s something about this moment, after a full day of moderate teasing and borderline foreplay, that causes a moan to burst through you when he squeezes again, only harder.
The rockstar pulls back, sporting a devilish grin. “Making such pretty noises for me and we haven’t even gotten to the best part.”
“Do your worst, Eds.” It’s a dare. Nothing sweet about it.
He smirks at the challenge and before you can register what exactly is happening, Eddie is lifting you up swiftly, hiking up your dress in the process, only to drop you down onto the sofa with a gentle thud. You’re wide-eyed as he unbuckles his belt with one hand, the other tugging at the pantyhose the wardrobe lady had you wear for the last scene of the video. He partially rips them off of you, then he hikes his index finger along the band of your underwear, eagerly pulling them down your legs until they’re wrapped around your ankles, with the reminisce of your stockings.
“The heels stay on,” the rockstar instructs, pushing your legs apart with force and positioning himself in between. All you can do is nod. Half-naked, half in costume. Same as him.
In the space of a heartbeat, his lips are on yours again. This time they don’t stay for long, instead moving downwards towards your chest. When he squeezes your breast through the silk material of your dress, he compliments how fucking good you looked, “I wanted to ravish you the second I saw you, baby.”
You whimper at his words, and at the fact that his now freed cock is gently brushing against your wet folds. Not quite breaching, just teasing you further. Only adding to the overall stimulation. 
“God, you’re so fucking hot. So fucking pretty. And all mine.” Eddie’s breathing into your bare chest ‘cause somehow in the moment your dress has slipped down ever so slightly and your tits made an appearance. Fingers from one hand are digging into your hip, holding you in place, while the other has you by the ribs. Thumb brushing your soft skin while his hot mouth is sucking on your hardened nipple.
Your eyes are closed. You’re not sure when you closed them. He’s invading your senses all at once. Just when you feel like you can’t take it anymore, when you want to whither and plead for him to touch you where you need him most, Eddie plunges himself into you without warning and your eyes snap open. 
“Oh God…” he groans, drawing his hips back only to slam them in again, making your body bounce against him. “Fuck, baby. Jesus.”
You sob in pleasure as Eddie knocks the wind out of you with each relentless thrust, still increasing his speed. Heavy panting and grunting fills the trailer, along with the sounds of where his cock slams against your sweet juices. He’s sitting straight now. Eyes are fixated on the mess you’re both making, where his length disappears in and out of you, while you admire the way his locks fall naturally in place. Although briefly, ‘cause you’re arching your back the next second, rolling your eyes to the back of your head when he hits that sweet spot.
“So. Fucking. Pretty.” He growls. “You’re so fucking pretty when you’re all stretched open like this, sweetheart. Your pussy was made for my cock, baby. You take it so well. You take this big dick so well, my good girl. Fucking made for me. Ain’t that right, dollface?”
“Made for you, Eds.” You just about whisper back, nodding your head feverishly.
Slap. His hand makes contact with your thigh and you practically wail. “That’s right,” he praises, “Made for me. So fucking tight for me.” Slap. Slap. Slap. 
Eddie’s cock starts to swell. You can feel it expand inside of you, then again when he thrusts back in. It has you heaving. The speed he’s established is close to becoming a little too much for the two of you and he drops his weight slightly, allowing you to wrap your arms around him, nails digging into his bare back. He can sense that you too are close and he’s trying hard to hold back, make this moment last longer, but his body refuses to slow down. Chasing the way your glistening pussy chokes his length. 
“Where do you want me baby?”
“Inside,” you croak out. “Cum in me, Eddie. Please. I need you to fill me up.”
“M’mph—” He chokes out, movements growing more and more erratic. The whole trailer is shaking at this point, that’s what it feels like to the two of you anyway. “Everybody out there will know what a good little slut you are. Not that innocent. Wanting me to fill you full of my cum, fuck.” 
Slap. Slap. Against your thigh. 
“Please, Eddie.” 
Slap.
“Shh… I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart.” He coos, “Gonna pump you full. Gonna make you see stars while my cum drips out of you.”
That’s when you shatter around him, uncontrollable desperate squeals making him groan louder as he continues. It’s sloppy, messy, and once you’ve completely unravelled underneath him, the rockstar can’t contain himself any longer. He lets out a broken moan as ropes and ropes of his warm spend start to throb into your hole.
His body gives up at the last spur and he drops flat on top of you, although not without a loose kiss placed to your jaw. His cock remains inside of your pussy. You can feel it pulsing until, after a few minutes, it no longer matches the beat of your heart.
Eddie lifts himself then. He kisses you softly and you smile against his mouth. When he eventually slips out and stands, he tells you not to move, that he’ll grab a towel from the small trailer bathroom and will help you get cleaned up.
“Wardrobe is going to kill us,” you call after him, balancing on your elbows as you sit up slowly. “Pretty sure these clothes can never be worn again. Purely for the fact that they reek of sex.”
“At least your wig stayed in place,” Eddie points out lightheartedly when he returns, his pants once again buckled, a towel in his hand. “That’s something the hair and makeup team should be proud of.”
“I’ll be sure to tell them,” you say, meaning it as a joke ‘cause there’s no way you would ever admit to what sins the two of you just committed.
Eddie smirks. “Pretty sure they already know,” he says as if it’s no big deal, “We weren’t exactly quiet, sweetheart.”
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as always, thank you for reading! pls comment, reblog & support your creators.
celebrity skin. masterlist | the killers (1946) reference
& the celebrity skin. taglist: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @astheni-a , @bebe07011 , @aysheashea , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie , @spideyanakin-interacts , @rogers-sweatbands , @mimsie95 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills - (if your user is crossed out, it means the tag isn’t working. pls check you’ve enabled tagging in your settings)
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reiding-writing · 24 days
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Congrats on 1000 followers! That's such a huge milestone! For the climacteric event, could you do a continuation of 'Takedown'? Maybe a role reversal, where cold!reader witnesses a badass moment from Spencer (whether his 'takedown' is physical or verbal is up to you) and gets flustered about it? I love your cold!reader series so much, it's such a great character dynamic with the rest of the cast!! Congrats again!
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TAKEDOWN [CLIMACTERIC]
/ˈteɪkˌdaʊn/ /part one/
Spencer might be a know-it-all, but at least he actually knows the things that he talks about.
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WARNINGS: fem!reader, just some guy being really obnoxious and annoying, mild mansplaining
spencer reid x cold!reader || fluff || 2.4k || event masterlist!!
a/n: we’re gonna ignore i uploaded this prematurely and just focus on the fic thanks 😭🫶
main masterlist!! ⋆。°✩ cold!reader masterlist!!
this is a continuation of my original ’takedown’ fic for cold!reader with a role reversal!
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Spencer wouldn’t say that he liked to ‘show off’.
He knew he was smarter than most people, and his teammates knew he was smarter than most people, and that meant that when he displayed his intelligence to provide important details about a case, the team would take his word for it.
It saved a lot of time in explanations for where he got his information from and allowed for profiles to be built at twice the speed.
But sometimes asking someone to quote a source was necessary.
Case in point, a police detective from Indiana who just would not leave the BAU team alone as they tried to curate a profile for the serial killer they were hunting.
Some of his muses, most definitely flukes in knowledge, actually did have a productive outcome.
“A majority of stabbing cases have an underlying sexual motive, so I’ve taken the liberty of looking into the sex-offences registry for anyone who could be our killer,”
And some…
“Have we considered the possibility that our killer is actually killers, I mean if you look at the stab patterns across the victims, there’s a clear dominant and submissive personality no?”
…were the exact opposite.
“What you’re seeing is a progression of the unsub’s confidence,” Spencer shook his head slightly at the detectives attempt at an explanation. “The slashes are only jagged and uncertain in the two first victims, with all of the victims after that displaying much more confident wounds, which clearly shows the evolution of one individual, not multiple,”
He didn’t like having to shut other people’s trains of thought down, it was something that he’d gone through enough to not want to put anyone else through it, but when they were the complete opposite of productive, sometimes it was for the best.
It was remarkably easy to tell when somebody had read something on the internet rather than actually going through the training required to be competent in a certain specialty. Especially when it came to the forensic side of things.
Throwing in key words like dominant and submissive personalities didn’t mean that he knew what he was on about. It just meant that he’d read a few case articles on a certain subject and then passed that off as a rounded understanding of whatever concept he was trying to explain.
And it was really frustrating.
“What’s wrong with you today?” You enter the put aside meeting room with narrowed eyes, a cup of takeout coffee in your hand that serves as a relic of you being able to escape from the hellhole that Spencer was inherently trapped in.
“It’s nothing, i’m alright,” He presses his lips into that awkward smile of his, but it lacks any of the genuity that it’s usually accompanied by, merely a shell of a smile that Spencer knows you’re not buying.
A quirk of your eyebrow is the only push needed for his façade to break immediately.
“It’s just—” Spencer exhales heavily through his nose, biting the inside of his mouth in a will for him to keep himself together. “I’m just frustrated.”
You gesture with your head for him to continue, and it’s like you’ve blown a hole in a dam with how fast everything comes tumbling out.
“Officer Harrison keeps interrupting the investigation and talking about absolute nonsense under the guise of it being objective fact and I’ve spent so long correcting him that I haven’t actually managed to do anything,” He gets it all out in a single breath, and it’s honestly quite impressive to watch until he’s caught at the end with barely any air left in his lungs and has to take a moment to catch it up.
“I just wish he would leave me alone,”
You haven’t met Officer Harrison, too busy with the coroner and taking interviews, but if you had to make an educated guess you’d say Spencer’s apparent frustration was well founded.
He wasn’t one to exaggerate things.
“Tell him to then,” You shrug out your answer like it’s easy, leaning your lower back against the table to sip at your coffee.
“I’m not like you,” Spencer sighs exasperatedly, his shoulders in a slump alongside his mind. “I can’t just— scare people off,”
You give a small quirk of your eyebrow at his assessment of your personality, and Spencer can see the small traces of amusement in the corners of your mouth. “You have the authority Reid, you outrank him tenfold,”
“I know, I just—” Spencer shrugs, defeated. “I don’t know, I just can’t,” He uncaps his marker to return to the barren whiteboard to try and actually get some decent headway on the profile with a solemn expression, submitting himself to the inevitability of having to do two jobs at once.
“Do you want me to talk to him?” Your offer sounds almost like an assassination proposal, monotonous and almost too serious.
“No,” Spencer shakes his head lightly. “No it’s alright, it’s not your problem, I’ll be okay,”
“You’e sure?”
“Yeah,” He gives you a small nod over his shoulder, lips pressed into a line as a grateful but dismissive smile. “Thanks anyway,”
You push yourself from the table with a sigh, joining Spencer at his side to pull the marker from his hand.
“Wh—“
“Go make yourself a coffee Reid.” You cap the marker with a knowing tilt of your head, putting it away in your back pocket so he can’t try and take it back from you. “You need to take five and calm down, you aren’t going to get anything done like this,”
You can see the want to turn your idea down, to say that he’s fine and not affected by the officer in his expression, but you both know it’s not something to be acted on, and so gives you a small nod with an exasperated exhale as he drags himself out of the meeting room to do as you’d asked.
He’s grateful for it really, the warm ceramic under his hands serving as a grounding point and sickly sweetness of the drink as it reaches his taste-buds a welcome distraction from the rampant frustration inhabiting his prefrontal cortex, but that small voice in the back of his head continues to torment him about the inevitability of having to deal with the officer again and all of th
He knows he should at least try to let it go over his head. If he stepped back into the meeting room like he was you probably wouldn’t even let him get one foot in the door before sending him on a longer break, but he didn’t want a break, he wanted to work, to crack this profile open and actually make some real headway.
He just needed to take a second to breathe.
When he does return to the meeting room, you’re not alone anymore, and Spencer can practically feel the amount of will power you’re using to keep your mouth shut as Officer Harrison rambles on about something he’s not quite close enough to hear yet.
“…very unlikely for that to actually happen,” The officer points to a section of scrawl you’d added to the whiteboard after Spencer’s departure, something about brief episodes of mania as a possible reason behind the unsub’s violent attacks.
“That’s not actually true, it’s been disproved dozens of times over,” You shake off his attempt at over-explaining your own theory to you with a full tone and a shake of your head, a clear indication for him to leave you alone.
He doesn’t of course, and Spencer swears he sees your eye twitch as Officer Harrison continues to talk aimlessly.
“I’m just saying, there’s research to support the idea that serial killers make their crimes more gruesome than they need to post-mortem so they can plead insanity in court if they’re caught,” He raises his hands in mock surrender, and you quirk your eyebrow at his explanation.
“And where did you get that information from?”
“A doctorate thesis paper from Stanford,” Officer Harrison crosses his arms like he’s secured a victory over you in knowing something that an expert doesn’t. “You’ve probably never read it, it was an investigation into the differences between legal and clinical insanity, and it concluded that serial murderers over gruesomise their kills to plead legal insanity in court despite being completely sound of mind,” He points back at your scribbling with his index finger, knocking his knuckle against the board. “So this theory isn’t worth looking into sweetheart, trust me,”
The use of the placeholder ‘pet’ name makes your eyebrows furrow until there’s a prominent frown line between them. “I have read that paper, for your information,” You spin the whiteboard marker between the fingers of your left hand, likely a way to expel some of the tension in your muscles as you grow increasingly frustrated with the man.
“You don’t have to lie sweetheart, it’s alright, no one’s expecting you to have read an 85,000 word paper from almost a decade ago, I just like to educate myself in my free time,” He shrugs with a nonchalant expression, but there are traces of what’s almost condescendion in his tone and Spencer decides it’s time to stop this little debate before Officer Harrison ends up with a broken nose and you end up getting a very long talk from Hotch.
“She wrote it,” Spencer presses his lips into a tight line as he walks around the table to join you at the whiteboard.
“Excuse me?” The officer blinks at Spencer blankly, eyebrows knitting together in a mix of confusion and a slight amount of irritation at Spencer’s intrusion.
“The thesis paper you’re talking about? She was the one who wrote it,” He nods his head in your direction, and he can physically see the way the officer’s air of intellectual superiority drains from his face.
“And I’m not actually convinced that you’ve read the whole thing yourself, everything you mentioned was part of the paper’s abstract, which at an average reading speed of 238 words per minute, should have only taken you a minute and 24 seconds to read, rather than the 5 hours and 54 minutes to read the whole thing,” Spencer feels a little guilty for how good the drop in Officer Harrison’s face makes him feel, but it’s easily overrun by inherent relief at getting the frustration off his chest.
“Can you name anything important from that paper apart from what you just mentioned? Anything at all?” The frustration underlying Spencer’s tone was obvious, and it was almost gratifying for you to watch him take a stand in his own beliefs for once.
There’s a few moments where he pauses, giving Officer Harrison the very slim opportunity to redeem himself and prove he had actually read through the whole document.
Neither of you needed to watch him try and stumble through his answer to know that he didn’t.
“Maybe if you had read it you’d know that the ‘fact’ you just mentioned, was proportional to the percentage of serial murderers that weren’t diagnosed with any mental illness prior to their arrest, which was only 63% of the total sample that was analysed. 114 of the murderers were actually diagnosed with some form of clinical psychosis, which is still entirely probable for the unsub that we’re looking for,” There’s a lingering trace of snark dousing Spencer’s tone, joined by an elevated sense of conviction as he narrows his eyes towards Officer Harrison. “Or maybe you’d at least remember that it was actually 97,502 words long, not 85,000,”
The fact that Spencer recalled such specific details of your thesis shouldn’t be a shock to you, his eidetic memory was practically a staple of his character after all, but considering you weren’t even aware he’d read it in the first place until five minutes ago made that revelation hit you just a little harder than it probably should.
“If you want to act like an expert in something, become an expert in something,” Spencer crosses his arms and it may as well have been a done deal. “Don’t pass off surface level, incorrect information as objective fact, all you’re doing is slowing the real experts down,”
The assertiveness in his tone, whilst occasionally used when arguing his point for a specific topic, was much more present as he shut down the Officer, and it was almost a little too gratifying to watch the wind get knocked out of his sails at Spencer’s reprimand.
“Now if you’d please excuse us, we have a profile to work on,” He gestures to the whiteboard with his head, and Officer Harrison is off like a whippet, retreating out of the room with his tail between his legs and a traffic light red coating his face from the embarrassment.
You give a dragged out whistle as the door closes. “Congratulations on telling him to leave you alone,”
Spencer laughs almost pathetically. Was he really so socially inept that he had to be congratulated on standing up for himself?
“Thanks,” He presses his lips into that typical Spencer smile as he fiddles aimlessly with the button on the cuff of his right sleeve. “And uh, thanks for letting me handle it on my own,”
You shrug nonchalantly. “You asked me to,”
“I know, I just— thank you,”
“It’s nothing to thank me for Reid,” You shake your head dismissively, but Spencer knows you’ve accepted his thanks through the slight quirk in the corners of your mouth that break the ever-present scowl that cements itself on your face. “I didn’t know you read my thesis,”
Spencer blinks for a moment before giving you a small and enthusiastic nod. “Three times actually, it’s extremely well written from a logical perspective, and the transcripts from the interviews you held were very interesting,”
And there’s the Spencer you knew.
“You’re an incredible psychologist, it’s no wonder you skipped your bachelors,” He emphasises his words with exaggerated head movements that make the curls of his hair bounce against his forehead.
“Thank you, Reid, that’s very sweet,” There’s a fondness to your voice that you’d deny if he pointed out, but you’re trying much less to hide it from Spencer than you would from anyone else in your team.
Spencer Reid had read your thesis three times. You wouldn’t be surprised if he knew it better than you did. You’re almost certain he knew it better than you did. He could probably recite the whole thing word for word where chunks of it had already been forgotten in your mind.
It wasn’t exactly something revolutionary, but it may as well have been.
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emoangel44 · 4 months
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The thing I've always loved most about aa4 is how much darker the tone is than the rest of the series in a way that isn't just edgy for the sake of it, but subverts your expectations from the original 3 games in a really interesting way. The trilogy was built upon the trust Phoenix had in others, and it was something we as players could almost always feel certain in. AA4 flips this on its head and makes it so Apollo effectively can't trust anyone but himself.
Your mentor, who the in the trilogy was a paragon of wisdom you could always turn to no matter what, gets revealed to be the culprit and sent to jail in the first trial and by the end of the game his list of crimes has stacked high but you still have so few answers on why he did any of it.
Your boss, the goofy protagonist of the trilogy, is now inexplicably a washed-up, disgraced, cheating poker player with an implied drinking problem who seemingly found a new hobby in evidence forgery and jury rigging.
He has a codependent relationship with his daughter, your assistant, who usually is a completely innocent and hapless victim of circumstance. She sees herself as the provider for the house and will help her father cheat at poker, or forge evidence, or guilt trip the poor attorney they knowingly screwed of out of a job into working for them for dirt cheap.
The detective, the only other returning main character, a previous assistant, is completely changed since we last saw her. In the trilogy she was chipper and bright despite the hardships she faced, and now she's unfriendly and burned out, turned bitter by the world. The scene we're first properly introduced to her in Apollo genuinely spends several minutes thinking his boss is making him bribe her with cocaine.
Every single defendant is a criminal guilty of something other than what they're charged for. Each case centers around an underground black-market poker ring, a mafia family and medical malpractice, a smuggling ring, and a family of forgers and an incredibly shady troupe of magicians. The one thing all of these people have in common is that none of them will tell you literally anything about what's happening, half of them clearly reveling in being as big of cryptic assholes as possible.
The only person who doesn't fit this description is, for once, the prosecutor. Usually your biggest obstacle and the most morally corrupt of the main cast, he's the only person who's both 100% on the side of truth and on the same page as you for the entire game. He's just as clueless as you, being used nothing more than a chess piece just like you are.
But the truly masterful thing about AA4 is how morally grey it is. These characters aren't just one note villains. They're not even villains at all. Most of them aren't even malicious.
Your boss, for all the low levels he stoops to, is underneath it all the same guy he's always been, doing everything he can to bring a criminal to justice and protect his family. Your assistant is a sweet girl who truly cares about you, she's just prioritizing herself and her fathers safety before anything else. The detective is the same passionate and kind woman under everything else. The rest of the defendants are genuinely well-meaning young people who got involved in shady stuff they didn't fully understand.
The game is filled with good people trying to make the best of bad circumstances. The game has just as many fun moments as the original trilogy. For all it's rough appearance, the game has a similar heart. For every unanswered question or unrighted wrong, there's a smile or a hope for a better future. For every bad action, there's usually someone trying their best behind it. The game is melancholic and dark, but isn't afraid to let good shine through. It knows there's no shadows without the light.
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