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#My derangement will not know end until then

emphistic · 3 days

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Greedy

A/N: requested by @charbunxxi — i did something a little different, lmk if you would rather me repost a more accurate version to your request

The first thing Sukuna thought about after getting off his shift was you. You were the only thing he thought of while working, too. And, on the drive home, he almost crashed his car due to the fact that you were the only thing on his mind.

Some might say he's obsessive. Some might say he's deranged. Some might say he's a man deserving of nothing.

But then there's you, who says he's just a man in love.

He's a man who makes you breakfast and coffee — the way you like it. He's a man who draws you baths and washes your hair. He's a man who carries your bags after having gone shopping — with his card, obviously. He's a man who arrives at the apartment and — even then, still looks for home. He's a man who looks for you.

However, this time — unlike all other times, after slipping off his footwear and coat, he is unable to find you.

Maybe you were taking a shower? No. Maybe you were watching TV in the living room? Nope. Maybe you were doing laundry? Not even close.

When Sukuna finally succeeded in his search for you in your shared bedroom, he facepalmed. "'m so fuckin' stupid," he grunts out, as he crawls into bed.

You had fallen asleep while trying — but failing — to stay up in order to greet Sukuna after he returned home from work; but, he had had a longer shift than usual, and forgot to tell you.

He didn't mean to wake you. After all, it's not his fault that your pet cat just had to let out the world's loudest meow, announcing his arrival.

"You've got to be kidding me," he whispered, glaring at the little nuisance laying in the bed, cuddled up in your loving arms. The loving arms where he should be, not some ugly, good-for-nothing feline.

"My bad, baby. Swear, didn't mean to wake you—" He goes in to place a kiss on your cheek, but you simultaneously swerve away from him.

"No," you softly whine, shoving your head into the pillow.

"The fuck you mean 'no'? You seriously gonna deprive me of my well deserved kiss? After working a twelve hour shift?"

"No kisses." You mumble, your voice muffled.

Sukuna blinked at you, once, twice, thrice, until he finally concluded that you weren't just fucking around with him, and you were actually denying him of something totally essential to his well-being.

How was he meant to go on without your kisses? How would he live, breathe, eat, sleep, without your affection?

He tried to remove you from the pillow, but you instantly shoved your face back. "Noo."

"Sweetheart, I love you, y'know that already. And I wouldn't force you to do anything against your will. But, you don't understand, baby. What you're doing is completely and utterly cruel. This is wrong, on so many levels." He tried, again, to peel your face away from the pillow. And he succeeded, this time. But this time, you had a nasty pout on your face.

"You wanna know what's cruel? The fact you haven't showered, and yet, still have the audacity to crawl into bed. I'll have you know, I just replaced the bedsheets, and now here you are — dirtying them up."

"Babe, please—" He started.

"You are stinking up the whole goddamn apartment, Sukuna."

"You don't gotta be this way. We can talk it out."

"Sukuna—"

"C'mon, pretty girl. Just one? For little ol' me?"

You grumbled, but complied, albeit begrudgingly. "Fine, only one. But you have to take a shower after—mmph!"

Sukuna grabbed your face in his hands and tackled you down onto the bed, smashing his lips against yours so zealously that even the cat jumped out of your arms and off the bed.

It, indeed, was not just one kiss. But, it wasn't a total loss. Sukuna did end up taking that shower. And he gave you a reason to, as well.

Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @taiyakii @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside @kelerina-ballerina @emikokomura

#sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna fluff

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moongothic · 6 months

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We all know how a lot of Luffy's opponents have been in some ways premonitions of the type of person Luffy could end up as if something went wrong in his life. For example Moria is what Luffy could've become had he truly lost his entire crew at Sabaody if Kuma had not saved them

And we know Crocodile is what Luffy maybe could've become had Luffy given up on his dreams and become jaded after losing to him. But like, when you think about it, that's not the only dark reflection of Luffy in Crocodile, is it

'Cause Crocodile, despite employing people for Baroque Works, did not trust anyone around him and did not considder anyone to be anything else but an employee to him. And we know he had been planning on taking over Alabasta for like 14 years (at the very least), BW being a thing for only the past four (pre-timeskip)

So like. Did Crocodile spend the last 14 years alone

Like yes he had his workers at the Casino and Robin etc, so he was like, around people, he wasn't like Brook who was in Total Isolation. But on an emotional level, has he not spent the last 14 years all by himself, completely detached from anyone, unable to trust or rely on anyone else?

That is sad as fucking shit, holy hell

'Cause then you compare him to like Luffy and like

Our sweet baby boy was so afraid of being alone that Luffy literally went through hell just to gain Ace's approval despite Ace trying to signal to him he wasn't interested befriending him

And through out the whole series Luffy reiterates time and time again how he needs and wants his friends around because he literally can't live without them, both on a literal "he can't cook or navigate or have fun by himself" level but also on that emotional level

And Crocodile just. Spent 14 years of his life, if not longer, alone.

Sweet jesus what happened to this man

And that just makes me further wonder, what the absolute fuck were Crocodile's Rookie Pirate days like?? Like did he have a crew or was he just yolo'ing it by himself???

Like. Mihawk's never been on a crew as far as we know. Kuma was a Revolutionary, not a pirate, but he wasn't like alone still. Doflaming, Hancock, Jinbei and Moria however have/had crews of their own. So what was Crocodile's deal? Did he have a crew before? Was he a captain or was he on someone else's ship? (Although surely the Government wouldn't offer the position of a Shichibukai to a cabin boy or the first mate, right)

And if he did have a crew, the hell happened to them??

Like we know Crocodile got his ass kicked by Whitebeard, I just find it unlikely Whitebeard would've pulled a Kaidou on Crocodile's crew and slaughtered them, that's not a very Whitebeard-y thing do, right?? ...Unless Whitebeard was just different 20+ years ago and was willing to annihilate entire crews. We don't know. Or maybe Crocodile and his entire crew were like Turbo Rotten from the beginning and Whitebeard figured they deserved to get wiped out, much like how we saw Shanks wipe out Kid's crew at Elbaf. Or maybe Whitebeard saw no reason to have mercy on someone affiliated with the World Government.

That all said, if we wanted to assume Crocodile had somekind of trauma that lead to him viewing people not only as disposable but also untrustworthy, then maybe losing people dear to him like that wouldn't lead to that mindset. Like Moria witnessed his beloved crew die and that caused him to want to create a crew he couldn't die, so he wouldn't go through that emotional trauma again.

Which leaves me to wonder. If something caused him to lose his ability to (emotionally) trust people, and if Whitebeard broke his dreams... Maybe Crocodile had a crew. And maybe they abandoned him when he lost to Whitebeard. Figuring they didn't need a weak captain who was probably going to bleed to death anyways. Or maybe the crew tried to take his head (after Whitebeard kicked his ass), after all, he was already a Shichibukai, anybody who took Crocodile's head could maybe attempt to take that title for themselves if the Government allowed it, and if not, at least gain more fame for themselves.

Either of these scenarios would certainly result in you losing your ability to rely on others. And leave you willing to spend the rest of your life alone. Who would have in them to go through that again.

Or maybe he came out of the womb unable to trust people and he was just yolo'ing it by himself like Mihawk right from the begining, who knows

Regardless I'm just

#Moon posting #Sir Crocodile #OP Meta #Me @ Crocodile: Who hurt you #No fucking wonder Crocodile was absolutely deranged in Alabasta #Dude just spent like 14 years speaking to a wall by himself. Or maybe not who knows the walls could betray him too #This man has so much unresolved trauma #BTW if true this would also make Crocodile a dark reflection of Robin. Which is a different layer of sad on its own #Like. Both expecting the other to be the one to betray them. And in the end it's Robin who shot first.#Break week in the middle of Kuma Backstory. I am in pain.#When will our husband return from the war #I need to know what his deal is so bad. I must study him under a microscope #My derangement will not know end until then #There could've been a counterargument that Crocodile couldn't trust anyone lest his Utopia Plans got ruined #And to be fair if the Government had found out his plans would've been screwed. Shichibukai Rights REVOKED #But he still seems to carry those trust issues since Mihawk is on relatively thin ice it seems #So me thinks. This smells like trauma.#The real conclusion to this post is that the Crocodile x Daz shippers are RIGHT

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 8 months

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You know what imma install again ikemen vampire thank to you know that I’ve became a Comte simp!! 😤😤

I always find asks/replies like this so hilarious because I never know whether to be like "omg congratulations!!!! you caught my brainworms!!!!!" or "Oh no. You caught my brainworms--" 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

All jokes aside though I live to spread the Comte gospel, there is no other hill I would more voluntarily die on LMFAO I'm always glad if another person can appreciate him a little more 🥺💛💛💛💛💛

#asks #minnie mumbles #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp comte #ikevamp saint germain #honestly it only recently occurred to me that like #this blog is more or less a deranged shrine to the pixel man i love #and thank god i cannot be witnessed by either him or anyone irl bc then i would need to hide my face forever #am i having the time of my life in privacy? oh no question #i could yell about him until the world ended #does he need to know that? absolutely not #i have a reputation ;;;;;;;;;;;;; (i.e. all stoic and business)#the sad fact is i would prbly struggle to make eye contact if he was real #oh to be a quiet simp #not incorrect quotes

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todayisafridaynight · 1 year

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Its SO upsetting how often the bad guys don't get to have a lasting turnaround. You see it with random side characters, but c'mon guys. Just let them go to prison for a little while and have them come back. I promise you do not have to kill a character off, or base the character off a real life person, thus narrowing their chances of a return even thinner, while building up the possibility of a comeback. This franchise has cursed me with such lovable characters I'll never see again, and my heart can't keep at it like this.

I'm gonna have to just take that suddenly-dropped-off-a-cliff-storyline into my own hands. Gotta pick up all the slack. They're too good at giving tender, heart wrenching moments to characters we'll never see again. Way too good.

Not sure if you know the streamer Crystal, but her reaction to the ending of 3 was the most extreme I've ever seen. She was full on breakdown sobbing, and even the chat was asking if she was okay. RGG look at the hearts you're breaking out here 🙃 Also, your posts about Mine and that ending are beautiful, and you could talk about it a million times. It'll never get old.

the most egregious- pardon the pun- execution of this trope in rgg games is aoki's death.

like legitimately, his death did not need to happen. the past antagonists you could make a decent point for why their deaths were justified (ryuji's probably being the goofiest ngl) but aoki's felt as though rgg was just checking off a to-do list.

i don't really watch rgg content creators, but if someone could send me a clip of that i'd be down to watch: always a fan of watching people be emo over Y3's ending

and speaking of, thank you i have strong enough mental illness that all i can do is talk about that scene over and over again :)

#snap chats #the worst part is im only partially joking about being mentally ill #like i just think of that one directioner fan being a super fan until they took medication and then they were normal #pretty sure if i did the same I Too would have shut up four months ago but to our benefit/dismay medicine's hard to get so <3 #i am simply a dog chasing its tail and by that i mean i will simply talk about mine and y3's ending until i die #or until my mental illness latches onto something else idk #but yeah it sucks dick how rgg does so many great and emotional scenes #but like. we never get to fully see that pay off with characters like mine or aoki #like i want to see them have to face the consequences of their actions- ESPECIALLY mine #mine makes me the most deranged Obviously but i just want to know how daigo would react and treat him #we only get a semblance of how daigo felt after Y3 via the rggo story but its not enough #i want daigo to be upset with mine i want mine to HAVE to work things through with daigo #because unfortunately i dont think daigo would just cut mine off i think he still would try to figure out what the fuck was going on #idk i just need something to happen to mine that crushes him and has him rethink his ways a bit #'crushes' yk like. something beside the pavement---#i wouldnt want him to totally change tho. i like him deranged but just channel that deranged behavior to their benefit #brb thinking about mine saying he wouldnt be acting up if daigo didnt get shot again jesus christ i think of that line every day #OK I HAVE TO GO DO A COMM RN ACTUALLY I'LL BE MENTALLY ILL LATER BYYYE FEEL FREE TO SEND ASKS AND ENABLE ME

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dazai-ritualist · 1 month

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DOMESTIC LIFE WAS NEVER QUITE MY STYLE…

— married life with alastor back in 1925, louisiana

— is this ooc :(? ive been in a ooc rut ever since school ended i miss my pookies n like i cried so much that day 😔 BTW THIS IS THE FIC I HSED THE ALASTOR AI TEXTS :>

lord above! you have to be some kind of gem to secure a man such as alastor. to be that woman, it’s almost certain that you’re someone who understands alastor in ways no one else has.

he doesn’t tend to express his affections physically, but more than makes up for it through his sweet nothings and lavish gifts

he’s most definitely the type to spoil his wife, but only if you ask him for it yourself. he doesn’t want to buy things you have no use for

has a trust fund in his will set for you if, god forbid, he died before you. he doesnt want his love to worry about money, just let him take care of it.

unlike many households at the time, alastor would help with the chores. despite his full-time job, he’d sorta understand that taking care of a house is a full-time job in itself since he’d spent his childhood watching how hard his mother works so, he agrees to always split chores with you.

because of his work, and his popularity, his boss asks that he comes in early to host the morning segment of the show. because of this, it’s not often that you two share a morning together. but, he still remembers to kiss your pretty head good morning, occasionally adding a request for dinner

his mother is MORE than happy to welcome you into the family. she’s just glad that her son found someone that makes him happy.

honestly on the fence about kids. on one hand, it’d make his mother really happy, as well as how it’s expected at the time period. but, he isn’t too interested in physically showing his desires. and, he is quite busy as well with his job and the whole murdering thing. it’s only if you ask him explicitly that he’d decide to look into it, maybe adoption? :>

quite good at putting your insecurities at ease. sweet nothings for days on end can come out of his mouth and he’s still not done.

as you sob into alastor’s chest, his arms wrap around your body warmly as he plays with your hair. "whenever you’re ready to talk, my love.” he held you close, wiping your tears until you were ready to talk.

alastor listened silently as you told him of all your doubts; that you weren’t a good wife, the whispers of every woman in town, everything. “my love, i’ll love you no matter what. it’s the woman inside that i am in love with.” he says as he brushes the hair out of your face, gazing down at you lovingly. “i won’t lie, there are times when you are… feisty. but, it’s your passion and intelligence that always bring me back to you.”

your lips quiver as you try to quell your tears. “can… can you swear that? that you’ll love me no matter what..?” his gaze became gentle as he saw the genuine doubt in your expression. “you have my word, dear. no matter what happens, i’d never stop loving you. even if we fought everyday, i would still be a fool for you. because, well… i suppose the heart wants what the heart wants. and, it is you that my heart yearns for, love.” alastor assured you, his eyes falling as he spoke.

as the sweet nothings fell from his lips, your tears ceased, finding the warmth in his touch. “thank you, dear… you always know how to make me feel better, i love you so much…” you sighed, curling into his touch. “mmh, i love you as well, my pretty girl.” he grinned, kissing your forehead.

as stated above, alastor is not particularly attracted to your looks, but moreso your intelligence and your ability to see right through that charming facade of his. funnily enough, it started a healthy relationship for one of the most deranged men out there.

he’d also be quite attracted to you if you joined him one night. nothing’s more attractive than your beautiful wife in a pretty dress he bought for you all bloodied up with a knife in your hand.

he loves to show you off to the newspapers as his pretty doll, not only because you’re quite the eye candy, but to also make you confident in yourself

he’d still get jealous whenever he’d catch someone staring too long though. ironically enough, he thinks it’s adorable when you get jealous and pout your face. he’s your’s after all, body and soul! why fuss over something that’s not gonna happen?

arguments are quite rare since alastor doesn’t tend to do things that are argument worthy. one of the few reasons you tend to argue is when alastor heads to the club after work and comes home drunk and much later than he intended to. and, after all that, he still apologizes for coming home late, probably tries to come home early so he can cook dinner the next day as an apology :>

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hasbin alastor #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor hc #alastor headcanons #alastor the radio demon #human alastor

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ervotica · 5 months

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i’m on the run with you (my sweet love)

pairing; rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings; sorta dark? but not really bc this is just rafe in character lol, established relationship, rafe is insane but also cute (i <3 deranged men), rafe is violent towards r and he cries a lot, 1k words

summary; you've reached the end of your tether with rafe's bad behaviour. just how far will he go when you try to leave?

He's so loud. It rings in your ears even as you walk away from him, trying to put distance between yourself and his growling; he's almost animalistic as he stumbles against the concrete sidewalk and grapples for purchase against your bare arm, a desperate attempt to get you to stay. Rafe has never been one to ask nicely for things. His rings leave a cold bite on your forearm and you sob, snatching out of his grasp even as he wails and cries.

"Rafe, stop," you're begging, pleading with him not to make a scene. He's flushed pink right down to his toes as he shakes, hands reaching out for you in a way that almost makes you reconsider leaving.

"You can't leave me," he says. Plain and simple, as though it's a fact. He's incredulous that the thought would even cross your mind in the first place- let alone that you're brave enough to try. "You can't."

"Rafe, this is unstable. I can't live like this anymore." Tears clog in your waterline and you sniffle and gasp, the back of your hand coming up to press against your open mouth. "I don't wanna do this. You've left me no other choice."

"No-no other choice?" he laughs through tears and grit teeth, an odd sound that gets lodged in his throat and then pushed out with a sob. "No other choice?"

He's alight with fury, pacing back and forth, gnawing on his fingernails as his hands flex, desperate to grab hold of you.

"Stop, you're scaring me," you murmur; stepping backwards away from him, a rock wedges in the sole of your sneaker and you lose balance. Just as you're about to hit the hard ground, Rafe surges forward, a thick arm wrapping around your waist and pressing you to his chest. The heat is emanating off of him in waves, coursing over you as his iron grip tightens.

"I'm scaring you, huh?" You're trembling as he whispers in that snarling way that he does- the tone that's usually directed at others, but never you. You don't like being on the receiving end of his wrath. "There'd be nothin' to be scared of if you just did as you were told, baby. Why do you insist on making everything so fuckin' difficult for me?"

You start to really cry then; in the middle of the street, sputtering in fits and starts, sagging in Rafe's hold when he shushes you and presses his palm to the top of your head to draw you into him.

"Shh, shh, I know," he mumbles, a thick bicep drawing tight as he wraps himself around your neck, quiet words vibrating against your skin.

"Why do you keep doing this to me?" you wheeze against his shoulder, the cotton of his jersey soft as you rub your face on it in an effort to hide. "Why does it have to be like this?"

"It doesn't. It doesn't, okay? Let's go home and we can talk about this."

His arms shift your weight until he's lifting you, hooking your legs up and over him and carrying you to the car parked a little way away. In one last futile attempt to free yourself, you kick out, squirming.

Not that it makes much difference; he has the passenger door opened despite your resistance and then he's trying to force you in.

"No! I don't want to. Rafe, stop it."

"Baby, get in the car."

There's an edge to his voice and you know if you push him much further he's going to snap. He's like a coiled spring, and he'll lash out at whoever's closest.

"No, please," you sniffle. "I don't wanna go."

"Get in the damn car!" he screams, and you cry out as he throws you through the gap; your head hits the top of the door with a thump and you moan, curling in on yourself on the leather seat.

He slams the door and stomps around the front, brow knit, lips pursed as he climbs into the driver's seat.

He takes a breath. The mist starts to clear from his eyes. You're still doubled over, fingers splayed over the forming bruise on your forehead.

"Angel," he murmurs, reaching for you. "Baby, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

You swat his hand away and wince at the throbbing in your temple. His breath quickens and you can feel how he convulses; from experience, he's around 3 minutes from a total meltdown.

"Rafe, calm down," you say, blindly reaching for him to placate his temper, if nothing else. "It's okay, I'm fine."

He coughs and snivels, clenched fists pressed to his eyes to conceal the tears. He's frozen with them, silent as he sobs and brings his head up to slam it against the steering wheel. You swivel in your seat, hands pressing to the sides of his neck in an attempt to keep him still.

"No, baby, no," you sniff. "Come here. I'm sorry."

He starts to turn towards you, his eyes swollen and red-rimmed as he hiccups. And then he's climbing right over the armrest and into your lap. It's comical, really; this huge, hulking boy crawling into your arms like a puppy.

He curls around you, laying between your thighs, his legs bent awkwardly in the footwell as he presses his face to the hollow of your throat.

"I'm sorry," he cries. "I just love you so much, I don't want you to go." His voice cracks and he wraps his arms around your middle, slipping cold fingers beneath your t-shirt to feel your bare skin.

"I'm not going," you murmur. Your lip quivers as you stave off tears. "But we need to get this under control, Rafe. I need you to try to get better."

"I will. I will, I promise. I'll be better for you."

You tilt his chin up and his watering eyes meet yours. You slot your lips between his and sigh when his whole body softens against you.

"I love you," you tell him. "We'll get this under control, okay?"

You suppose only time will tell.

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waspsarebetterthanbeesanyways · 15 days

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SVSSS AU where Original Shen Qingqiu | Shen Jiu, from around the time of his death, replaces Shen Yuan in the Water Prison. Luo Binghe is fanatically in love and rather deranged, and he looked away from SQQ for two minutes and comes back to SQQ who is traumatized and missing his limbs, tongue, eye and WHAT THE FUCK DID HUAN HUA DO TO MY SHIZUN??? Luo Binghe, Liu Qingge, and Yue Qingyuan are united, both in the absolutely awful time they’re having and their desires to RAZE HUAN HUA TO THE FUCKING GROUND. They’ve got all the demon realms and all the goddamn cultivation sects on their side.

Old Palace Master: *chuckles* I’m in danger!

SJ is has never been this confused in his life, and completely lacks the means to communicate this. LBH and Meng Mo try to search SJ’s dreams to figure out what happened but only find dreams about Luo Bingge. LBH absolutely will not let anybody know this until he’s found whichever monster stole his face.

And then Shang Qinghua gets in on the action. He sees SJ and frankly this is very traumatic for him, like how did things get worse than PIDW?! He promises “Cucumber-bro” that he’ll make sure he ends up in the plant body and now SJ is assumed dead! And Cang Qiong is trying to figure out who is the traitor who killed SQQ, and SQH is sweating buckets trying to pretend it wasn’t him.

___

Meanwhile, where’s Shen Yuan in this? Probably in SJ’s original place. System gives him an error message and then a mission to survive until he can be restored to the SVSSS timeline. He fucking books it and does everything in his power to keep away from LBG. With System being so cooperative, he manages with a lot of near misses.

Where does his side of the plot go from there? The obvious answer is that he manages to thoroughly wife beam LBG between all the near death experiences. The less obvious answer is that SY really gets along with all the many wives, and eventually to protect him they manage to assassinate LBG, Ides of March style. “Et tu, Ning Yingying?”

#svsss #scum villian self saving system #svsss au #I feel like somebody’s already written something similar?#but for the life of me I cannot remember where I would have read this

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impyssadobsessions · 2 months

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I don't have much time but I wanted to share this with you while I can! I can't draw but I can write and this is the only way I can share this imagery with you!

The world is passing by in a flurry of colors.

Which usually isn’t that unusual for Clark…usually though it’s because his flying of his own accord. Now…now it was because he was hurdling who knows how fast in piece of metal that was more of a mobile armory then an actual RV then it supposedly was.

There were no support handles to hold on to for just a bit of comfort, no, that was replaced by a handle that would pull down and release a fog horn sound.

So all he could do was pull his knees up to steady himself against the front console, using his size to squeeze himself into a cannonball form in hopes he didn’t get dislodged on a particular rough bump.

Then again if he did, maybe he could get propelled forward and through the front and take the engine out on his way.

Wishful thinking…at least he was doing better then Bruce.

Who was currently sprawled out on the floor of the RV looking like a disheveled cat hanging on to whatever and however he could. Maybe it would look more natural in his Batman outfit but at the moment both if them were in civilian wear and seeing the ‘Prince of Gotham’ doing an impression of a deranged starfish just added on more to today’s bizarreness.

Jack Fenton was giving him a large smile as he drove through another wall, “Don’t you guys worry! I’ll get us to our boys! No speed limit or any barrier can stop a Fenton!”

Clark could only let out a groan of despair as a response...

AMG THIS IS LOVELY LMAO!!! Bruce just imitating one of his sons to keep himself from being thrashed around.. or worse... throw up. ahhhh imagine they both slump out of the rv when they arrive, shaking and so grateful to touch the ground. Bruce is definitely calling for a private jet after this and Clark might agree to ride with him just to have a slower ride.

Danny gives them pity pats when he learns... Jon and Damian like how bad could it be. Damian thinking his father been in a space ship and Jon like we fly that fast every- Only for them to be overheard by Jack by their curiosity, so they all end up being drove back by him. Which bruce and clark like OH GOD please- which becomes a little relief when it turns out Jack drives safer with children.... still deranged but one they can handle. Damian still doesn't see what got their fathers so twisted up. Danny knows though and then asks dad how long it took them. "Regrettably 3 hours son. I was hoping it would be two." Damian frowned and done the math then asking if there was a flying feature in the... rv? "AHA! Nope, but I've been trying to convince Mads to let me install one. She said it would cost too much in gas though, and take up room for the ghost scanner." Damian does the math.. then realizes why his father and clark are shaking in the rv.. even by the tiniest of amounts. "That's my dad! :D" Danny grinning. "He's cool." Jon says innocently enough, not realizing the horror of that statement until it takes them over five hours to get home. Jack decided to play it safe and follow SOME speed limits and road signs. Jack is never allowed to drive again next time they hang out. Bruce or Clark always gets the keys =w= or has limo. ahh sorry got inspired. I LOVE this snippet ;w; !!!! <3 Thank you for writing this. <3<3<3

Link to prompt

#dpxdc #dp x dc #superdads + Jack #jack fenton #clark kent #bruce wayne #asks #dc crossover #dp crossover #impyelam #fanfic #fanfic by someone else #<3 #supersons + 1 #dcxdp

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kitasgloves · 5 months

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comforting your insecure bf

part 2 . part 3

— ♬ NSFW, MINORS DNI, gn reader, based on this post

— ♬ Kageyama Tobio

Your long-time boyfriend Kageyama Tobio was adored by many for his outlandish talent as a setter in volleyball and for his handsome looks. You weren't naive to the people developing adorable crushes on the athlete and the people thirsting over him online. It appeared to you that Kageyama was contented with what he has in life at the moment.

However, you were oblivious to your boyfriend's surprising confession of his insecurity. You have no clue that Kageyama has been harboring it for a long period. He tells you that it was perhaps linked to his high school trauma of being left behind, he developed a thought that he wasn't good enough when he was a teenager. That's why he pushed everybody away and focused on volleyball, he believed he wasn't good enough to make anyone stay.

Now, that was a load of bullshit. Although it's sad to think Kageyama still felt this way until his adulthood despite having a secure life, you weren't going to let him believe further that he was unworthy of being loved. Your boyfriend was lovable, he has adorable ways of showing you affection, and he's deeply honest and comfortable with you.

"Ahhh, [Name] slow down, please"

Kageyama lets out a breathless moan as you pumped his cock vigorously in front of the bedroom mirror. His athletic shorts were pulled down and his shirt exposed his toned abs. You settled from behind on the bed, burying your face against his neck as your warm breath tickles his skin. Kageyama desperately grips the bedsheets throwing his head back while you jerked him off.

"Baby you sound so pretty right now"

"Please [Name], want to cum"

"I'll make you cum if you stop telling yourself that you're unlovable"

The setter turns his head to you but you force him to look into the mirror. He gazes at his disheveled reflection, panting with your hand now massaging his balls.

"Tobio, you're so sweet, kind, and patient"

"You make me so happy in so many ways"

"You're better than what you think you are. If you were so unlovable, then I wouldn't have stayed would I, love?"

You whisper tenderly against his ear. He was hypnotized by your words and the way your hand around his cock continuously pushed him to the edge. His heart threatened to burst out of his ribcage.

"You're so fucking hot too. I like it when you moan, Tobio"

"I like the way you kiss me when we fuck"

"I like how your cock makes me cum every time"

Kageyama swallows as his head grows dizzy, his release is a few strokes away and you can feel it. His hips begin to buck against your hand as he watches himself fall apart through the mirror. When you cooed his name, he goes slack as cum shoots out of his cock, coating both your hand and his abdomen. He collapses in your arms. When he opened his eyes, he tiredly smiled at you.

"I'm so lucky to have you in my life, [Name]"

"I should be saying that to you, Tobio"

— ♬ Kozume Kenma

Being a famous YouTuber and a figure on the internet didn't save Kenma Kozume from all the wholesome, deranged, and horny posts about his handsome looks on the internet. Everyone was infatuated with Kodzuken once in their life, you included. You were just lucky enough to end up with him. You couldn't care less if the internet was mad about you for stealing their hot gamer YouTuber. Although you were unbothered about the small percentage of hate you got from the people on the internet, criticizing your public relationship with Kenma, there's a much smaller percentage you weren't aware that has been bothering your beloved boyfriend.

You know Kenma was chronically online, even if he chooses not to admit it. He always knows the trending topics and drama, no matter the size of it. So it's no surprise that he stumbles to the small group of people calling him unworthy of you. Kenma thought it was absurd for a while until he kept reading more.

He sees clips of his live streams where he's dismissing you during a tough game when you walked in the room to give him a snack, he even shouted at you one time because he lost. He remembers missing your anniversary because he got distracted playing with his friends. And how could he forget how he made fun of you live in front of his audience for sucking at Mario Kart when he invited you. Before he realizes it, Kenma is convinced that he is a bad boyfriend.

Despite his unbothered demeanor, you know how Kenma cares a lot even the little things. So when you found out how he's absorbing the hate he got online, you knew it had gone over to his head. As soon as he was finished recording a gameplay, you dragged him out of his gamer chair and pushed him on the bed. Surprised, he watches you push the mirror in front of him. He raises a brow when you order him to strip, he obeys when he sees the dark look in your eyes.

"Kenma, how long have you been listening to the wrong people, hm?"

You gently asked him as you slowly stroked his cock, Kenma whimpered, suddenly unable to form any words to respond. He was flushed all over, losing the ability to think straight.

"Do you think those stupid haters are right, huh? Do you think you don't deserve me?"

Kenma moans when you begin to play with his balls, his heartbeat wildly banging against his ribcage. His brain felt like mush.

"Look at the mirror, Kenma. Do you think that handsome man staring back at you is a shitty boyfriend?"

"...Yes"

"Well, you're fucking wrong. Because my boyfriend is the best in the world"

You hear Kenma's breath hitch. The male can feel his heart flutter in his chest. The longer you jerked him off, the more the pleasure overtakes all of his senses.

"My boyfriend is so cute and nice he gives me animal crossing plushies"

"My boyfriend is so smart and fantastic at video games"

"My boyfriend is so fucking hot when he fucks me hard after a tough game"

Now, you got Kenma openly moaning and struggling to keep his eyes on the mirror. If you continue showering him with compliments like that, he's afraid he's not going to last long. His hands grab your thighs tightly with every breath you steal from his lungs.

"Are you ready to stop listening to those people online, baby?"

"Are you ready to listen to me?"

Kenma nods and you smirked. Your hand pumps his cock faster ripping a high-pitched moan from your boyfriend. You force him to watch the mirror as you kiss his neck and inhale the scent of his hair while you jerk him toward orgasm. When Kenma cums, he spasms with his cum shooting in different directions. The crash brought by the pleasure was so overwhelming it sent his eyes to the back of his head. You waited as his high melted. Kenma meets your eyes through the mirror and you send him a sweet smile, and he returns it gratefully.

"I don't deserve you, [Name]"

"Hey! What did I say, Kenma?"

"That I'm the best boyfriend in the world"

"Damn right"

He turns around to pin you to the bed before towering on top of you, there was a determined glint in his eye that made you gulp.

"How about I return the favor, love?"

— ♬ Iwaizumi Hajime

Everyone liked Iwaizumi Hajime. He was kindhearted, hardworking, and most of all drop-dead hot. He can make anyone drool with that muscular body of his. Nobody was immune to the boyish charm of the athletic trainer, that could be said the same to you. As the manager of the Japan Volleyball Team, you were bound to meet Iwaizumi. You remember how incredibly lucky you were when he asked you out on a date.

When you and Iwaizumi became official, things began to appear clearer. You have concluded that you couldn't live without your boyfriend, as dramatic as it seems. You met Iwaizumi's best friend after the Olympics. Oikawa Tooru and you got along well through teasing Iwaizumi, the way you two immediately became close after meeting planted an odd feeling in the athletic trainer's chest.

He'd like to brush it off as a trick of the eye, but he thought you were smiling wider because of Oikawa. Your laughter sounded louder when Oikawa told you a funny story. He could've sworn he caught you blushing when the setter was anywhere physically close to you. Iwaizumi knows he wasn't jealous, he knows what that felt like. But this one's familiar.

It reminded him of high school when he saw people flock around his best friend. The way Oikawa effortlessly attracted everyone's attention and gained their affection made his chest hollow. After all, why would anyone pay attention to him? He wasn't anything spectacular compared to his best friend.

After Oikawa went home, you noticed how quiet Iwaizumi had been. You knew your boyfriend so it was easy to find out why he was behaving this way. When you realize that it had something to do with Oikawa earlier, your heart cracks. Did he feel insecure? No, it can't be. But then why does he appear so down?

"Hajime, come here"

You call out to him on the bed. He lazily walks over to you, as he sits you positioned right behind him. You wrapped your arms around him and planted butterfly kisses all over his neck. His breath stuttered when you reached for the hem of his sweatpants.

"Wh-what are you doing, [Name]?"

"Shhh, lemme touch you"

With red cheeks, Iwaizumi reluctantly helps you pull his sweatpants off. It didn't take long for him to feel aroused. The moment he got a boner, your hand was already around his cock. He lets out a low hiss. You give him a few leisure pumps.

"Keep your eyes on the mirror, babe"

"[Name] I-"

"I said, eyes on the mirror, Hajime"

Iwaizumi reluctantly gazed at the mirror in front of the bed, he was not prepared for the lewd sight that awaited. His legs were spread with your hand stroking his cock, his face was flushed with sweat trickling down his forehead. Your eyes stared at his through the mirror.

"God, you're so handsome, Hajime"

"I'm so fucking lucky to have you in my life, babe"

The athletic trainer can feel his heart skipping beats, and his head begins to spin because of the sudden compliments and the erotic handjob.

"Were you upset earlier because I was hanging out with Oikawa?"

Iwaizumi nodded, he wanted to be honest with you. A tiny smile rises on your lips.

"I'm sorry, baby. Didn't mean to make you feel insecure"

"You know, you're the only one for me, Hajime"

You whisper tenderly against his ear. When you reach down to caress his balls, Iwaizumi lets out a choked moan.

"Oikawa may be handsome but you're my type"

"You're so fucking amazing, Hajime"

"You're so kind, patient, hardworking, and hot"

"Plus, you're good at pounding me senseless"

The pace of your hand went faster at every praise and it's making Iwaizumi go cross-eyed. He has a gorilla grip on your thigh as he watches you jerk him off to his release, he engraves it in his brain as it pushes him to his orgasm. Iwaizumi cums with a silent scream and throws his head back. He paints your hand with his cum. When he looks in the mirror again, you are smiling at him like he's the best thing that has ever happened in your life.

"Did you mean everything you said, [Name]?"

"Of course, Haji, why wouldn't I?"

"Especially the last part?"

"I only speak facts, babe"

Iwaizumi smiles as he grabs your face and crashes his lips against yours. Both of you collapsed on the bed, giggling and clinging to each other.

You found it magical that no matter the stress Akaashi Keiji as an editor or a shōnen manga magazine, he manages to look so pretty. It seemed like the stress barely affected him at all. Your boyfriend was one of the underrated hardworking editors in his department, he may not have continued volleyball after high school, but he was contented with his life.

— ♬ Akaashi Keiji

You and Akaashi have been together for long enough to be fairly involved in each other's lives. Being with Akaashi meant you have met his best friend, Bokuto Koutaro. Bokuto was a sweetheart, he was the former captain/teammate of Akaashi's and now a professional volleyball player.

Akaashi liked Bokuto very much, he looked up to him and cared about his well-being a lot. Today on his day off, he and Bokuto decided to hang out. They went jogging, he realized that he wasn't as physically active as he was in high school. They went to Onigiri Miya for breakfast, almost everyone approached Bokuto for an autograph or picture. They barely had a conversation because of the fans flooding in to meet him, and Bokuto was too kind to reject them. They ended up in Akaashi's apartment, it was a hot afternoon so both of them lounged in front of the fan, shirtless and watching a movie.

Akaashi subtly gazed at Bokuto's carefully sculpted body and looked at his slightly chubby tummy. Akaashi frowned, it was true that he barely had time to do some exercises or workouts because of how busy he was lately. Before he could stop himself, he began comparing himself to his best friend. He wondered how the hell did you end up with him, who was barely anyone special. He's just a guy you happened to fall in love with you.

Bokuto left later before you arrived. Akaashi decided to block out the insecure thoughts by finishing his work on his laptop. You notice how he was ignoring you when you got home, he looked frustrated when you checked on him. When you call him to eat dinner, he doesn't respond. You enter his office and approach him, but he won't let go of his laptop. You scowled and dragged him out of his office chair, he got out of your hold and sat down on the couch in front of the mirror. He was stressed, so you decided to help him.

"[Name]? What the-huh?!"

You settled behind him and unbuttoned his pants, he gasped when you pulled down his pants to his thighs. Your hand slipped into his boxers and grabbed his cock.

"[Name]"

Akaashi stuttered your name. You shush him by pulling his dick out of his boxers, his breath hitched. His eyes trailed to the mirror and watched the pornographic sight of you giving him a handjob, his heartbeat rings in his ears as he continued watching.

"[Name], please stop"

"Why, Keiji?"

"I-I..."

"What's wrong, babe?"

"...Why did you fall in love with me, [Name]?"

You chuckled and planted a soft kiss on his neck, Akaashi shivered when you continued to jerk him off.

"Because you're wonderful, Keiji"

"You're so handsome, hardworking, and kindhearted"

Akaashi wanted to protest, to deny that what you're saying was wrong because he doesn't feel special. Until you started massaging his balls.

"You're so fucking special, Keiji. I've never met someone like you in my life and there's no way I'm letting you go"

"Nobody has ever fucked me good after the first date"

An embarrassed blush rises on Akaashi's cheeks as he recalled the memory of fucking you all night after his first date with you. Slowly, he lets himself melt against your touch. He allows himself to be consumed by the pleasure. With lidded eyes, Akaashi watched you stroke his cock through the mirror as you peppered his neck with kisses.

"I fucking love you so much, Keiji"

The way his heart leaps out of his chest when you started pumping his dick faster causes a loud moan to slip past his lips. You smirk as you showered him with praises against his ear, effectively banishing the insecurity out of his head, and replacing it with your love and pure pleasure.

"[Name], gonna cum!"

"Go on, cum for me, pretty boy"

With that command, Akaashi comes undone. He shuts his eyes as cum messily spurts on his boxers and your hands. You give him a loving kiss against his temple.

"Go clean up, I'll wait for you at the table, darling"

Before you can leave the room, Akaashi grabs your hand. You look at your boyfriend filled with sweat, breathless, and with glasses crooked, he smiles widely at you.

"I fucking love you too, [Name]"

©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)

#— ♬ ©kitasgloves #haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fic #haikyuu smut #kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #kozume kenma #kenma x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader

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kitkatscabinet · 6 months

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Step into my parlour, said the spider

Stepbro! Simon x reader

Warnings: this one’s kind of deranged. Simon is a fucked up little freak. I mean it when I say this is dark, read with discretion. Implications of murder, and non-con

Word count: 1.5k

Once again 141 server bringing out the worst in me, @chxrryghost @cooliofango see you guys in hell 🫡

Before you, life was a series of dull greys and monochromes, there was no warmth, just cold never-ending darkness that persisted in the form of his father's abuse. That didn’t matter now though, because nothing before you mattered.

Simon is nine years old when the angel (you) starts to live with them, he’s got no clue how his deadbeat of a father managed to finagle another woman into marrying him but he pays little mind to his new step-mum when he has you.

You’re five years older than him, but you’re not like Tommy or dad at all. You’re kind and you tuck him into bed and give him cuddles and kisses that make him feel all fuzzy inside. You take him to the park and protect him from his dad. You try to hide the dark bruises that litter your skin, a consequence of shielding him, but Simon’s not so naive.

He grows up hiding in your shadow, falling deeper and deeper into an obsessively deranged love for his saviour, the only person who loves him and treats him kindly. He seethes silently, waiting for the moment he’s big enough to protect you instead.

By the time you’re sixteen, your mother has split, leaving you behind though you reassure Simon that you’d never have left him anyway. His father’s been out of a job for a while and you’ve been running yourself ragged to support Simon and Tommy. Tommy the bastard that he is doesn't appreciate the work you do and Simon is once again forced to grit his teeth and seethe as he watches you come home every evening like a zombie. Some mornings you don’t even make it to the bed to fall asleep, though Simon’s always waiting, dragging you under the covers before burrowing his way into your side.

You let yourself get degraded by filthy men that slap your ass and call you names just for a measly tip. You’re one of the prettiest people on the planet which, unfortunately, attracts a lot of attention from the disgusting dregs of society. Boys your age and older, far too old to even consider glancing your way. The few brave enough to hover are always quickly scared off by Simon’s intense glares, and he preens when you pat his hair in thanks.

His dad notices too and Simon comes home from school one afternoon to find the man on top of you, hands wrapped around your neck as you struggle beneath him. A plate shatters over his dad's head and it’s not until Simon is on the floor and his old man is red in face, screaming at him that Simon realises what he’s done.

You’re screaming and you shove his dad from behind, scooping Simon into your arms with adrenaline-fuelled strength you wouldn’t normally possess and are locking you and him in your shared room. Barricading the door and squishing Simon against you as your breath rattles.

You fall asleep with Simon nestled against your chest, none the wiser to how his blood chants with the fervour of a thousand men, mine, mine, mine.

The universe finally seems to give you a break after that, his dad leaves the both of you alone and not long after your 18th birthday you get a cushy, well-paying job as a secretary for some hot-shot lawyer. Though Simon gets a little upset when you spend all your money on him, new clothes, new books for school, a GameBoy, whatever he wants.

Best of all, his dad dies. The alcohol and drugs finally taking their toll on his body. (It’s not until a few years later that he’ll realise you were entirely too calm when the police came knocking. Serving them tea as you pretended to be shocked about the news.)

You get custody of him and Tommy and you move them into a much nicer neighbourhood. Though Simon’s not happy at having his own room and often sneaks back into your bed, knowing that you’ll simply sigh and open your arms for him, letting him snuggle against your chest.

Simon should’ve known better, should’ve known that his happiness wouldn’t last. It’s not even a year into what you called the start of his new life that he comes home one afternoon from school to find you sobbing into your hands, hair and outfit dishevelled. Though you refuse to give him the details of what happened he manages to put two and two together from the state of your being and the knowledge that you’ve been fired.

You take up waitressing again but it’s not enough. He’s not sure who ends up reporting it but a few days before his 14th birthday Simon gets taken away from you, no matter how much he kicks and screams. He tries to run away a few times but he’s always found and dragged away from you again.

You move away not long after, having been offered a once-in-a-lifetime scholarship. Simon tries to understand as you explain through tears, kissing his forehead for the last time. He knows it’s selfish of him to feel betrayed but he can’t help it. Can’t accept that you’re leaving him. He doesn’t cry, instead, he immediately starts plotting. This is just a minor bump in the road, he’ll spend every waking moment until he’s eighteen perfecting his skills and plans and then nothing will keep you apart ever again.

Time passes by excruciatingly slow, the only positive is that he’d finally grown even further, and had sprouted in height and musculature so much that he fears you might not recognise him. It takes him another extra year to find you, but when he’s twenty-three, with military resources at his disposal he finally, finally sees you again in person.

You’re still the picture of perfection, clothes hugging your form so tantalisingly that Simon feels his cock throb in the confines of his pants just from seeing you. He steps forward, weaving through the crowd of the market only to stop in his tracks when a man wraps his arms around your midsection. Instead of rebuffing the touch you lean back and smile against him and Simon feels as if the Earth has been pulled from his feet.

How could you do this to him?

He’s waited so faithfully for you all these years and you’ve replaced him? He watches as you kiss the interloper with a smile and Simon clenches his fists in fury so harshly his palms bleed. How many men had you let into your bed? How long did it take for you to forget him?

The plan’s changed. You’ve forced him into this. It’s not his fault that he’s had to plant cameras throughout your house. It’s not his fault that you’re so tantalising it forces him to break into your house, stealing your used panties to help get himself off. It’s not his fault you force him to learn you and your boyfriend’s schedule and it’s not his fault your scumbag partner doesn’t take his carefully worded hint to leave you.

Your boyfriend is dead. Unfortunate, but needs must. Simon watches you sob into your pillow, hard as a rock as he imagines licking the tears from your cheeks and decides he can’t wait any longer.

You’re so distraught that you don’t even notice Simon is in your house, you don’t notice until he swings the bedroom door open and you look up with a scream. He supposes he must make something of a terrifying sight, he’s a large man, and his face is covered by his trademark skull balaclava.

Simon allows you a few seconds to scramble around in panic before he crosses the distance, trapping your back to his chest and groaning as he humps into your ass. You scream, hitting at his arms as the tears start to flow anew and Simon throws you down on the mattress, weighing you down with his bulk.

“Please, you don’t have to do this” you beg with teary eyes that do nothing but fuel his arousal. He does take pity on you though, restraining your wrists with his right hand and using his left to tug off his mask. He watches as your eyes gradually widen, elation filling his chest as recognition fills them.

“Simon?” your voice wobbles and his name has never sounded better. Groaning, he rests his forehead against your collarbone, taking calming breaths to stop from cumming then and there. It’s okay though, he’s got all the time in the world now. You’ll spend the rest of your lives together, you’ll never be apart again.

#x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #kat’s writing #cod ghost #cod simon riley #simon riley

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katz-chow · 6 months

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deranged!reader & her task force (katz's version)

me & ur mother @moongreenlight are genuinely insane. this is basically us if it even care 😞

a/n: fem!reader all military names fake, processes fake; mostly it'd be classified, not just not done...well we wouldn't know for sure. medical shit also real. i’m in both of those fields irl. no i am not a swifty

clinically insane reader doesn’t rampage kill. art has many mediums; regular people choose acrylics, watercolor, culinary, pottery…reader chooses murder. it’s a meticulous process that depends on the person, it’s slow, drawn out. which makes her a great torturer. thing is, she was part of SEAL team tango-8 but focused more on SARC stuff (search and rescue). she knows her way around a suture kit—and, fortunately, surgical instruments.

laswell knew reader for two reasons: odd separation orders and her confirmed kill count. there was barely anything documented about her medical discharge which was weird because 98% of the military is just paperwork (a fucking pain btw). only thing noted was “medically discharged” and “0% disability”. her confirmed kill count? 43. happy to be back in uniform, she skips around the hallways to price, giving him a giant hug and a kiss on the cheek, whispering threats in his ear. “if you ever discharge me, i’ll dip you in concrete to be my custom statue.” a sickeningly sweet smile follows. as he furrows his brows in confusion and bit of horror.

soap tries really hard to like her and he really does. she's so sweet and always tries to include him in things and bakes him cakes and always somehow includes almonds, joking how it's actually just cyanide. soap laughs until he sees her have actual cyanide in the kitchen, carefully dropping it into the batter with an eyedropper. then a tsp of almond extract. it wasn't enough to hurt or kill anyone, but it scared him

he told ghost and ghost goes and investigates. then he sees reader one night, cleaning her instruments, different mallets, scissors, blades and knife handles etc. and they are pristine...not surgically pristine but definitely floor grade. he continues to watch her at 2100, without fail, and cleans her surgical instruments. until he sees her missing from her barracks from her open curtains. he goes and finds her carefully dressing a man like a buck. she sees him and smiles at him beckoning him closer. after he puts an end to that, with cuts and bruises, he goes and tattles to price. reader crying in the prison about how much she'll "miss her uniform" price and laswell speak about it and they finally know what the fuck us going on. they send her out on the field.

its just gaz, a few recruits, and reader in a safehouse. they've captured one prisoner, a soldier of the pmc against them. he's tied to a chair and after gaz runs over his psychological warfare in him. gaz fails and tiredly beckons for reader to come in. he finds her staring dead straight ahead, looking like she was falling asleep with her eyes wide open. he slowly calls out her name, no response. he calls again, same outcome. he taps her on her shoulder and her eyes fall into a "normal" state and smiles brightly at him, "my turns?!" gaz films it, the blood, the slow agony-per laswell and price's request reader starts to skin the soldier. starting with just a silly little joke about cuticles and then it goes higher and higher, the piece of skin never tearing. it's superficial, it barely draws blood. "does that hurt? don't worry, i'll help!" she blows cold air onto the exposed skin, drying out his flesh slowly while the blood keeps it from fully drying. gaz gulps, the camcorder on a tripod next to him. "it's okay, you're not going to die. and if you do...i'll make use of you, no waste! promise! gaz, can you pass me the kerrison rongeur, please?" gaz scrambles around in her kit, metal and metal clinking together in the heavy duty box. "the fucking hole puncher, gaz." she screams at him, causing him to jump. he finds the long, gun-like instrument, its blade pokes and punches together. he hands it to her, the work end first. she yanks it from him, nails scratching his hand in frustration, but that same smile on her face. she takes small chunks of flesh from the man, blood gushing and pools. she digs dipper until she hits an artery, blood splattering over them all. "the mosquito! give the fucking mosquito." she screams as the man in front of them bleeds out. she launches for it in her box and clamps down. the man half awake. gaz's chest heaves up and down, his face in shock and fearful freeze. reader storms out, face falls flat, no more smile, no brows furrowed, just a dead stare in front of her. "pieces of shit, human bodies are."

laswell pulls out any psych eval documents she can find. she finds exactly one set of documents: your medical discharge. price shows ghost and they stare at the replaying video on his monitor. the image of a wide, blank-eyed reader, hair and face dripping with crimson blood, a small clamp clicked to close an artery. they keep her. soap is the one who finds your bloody kit left in your barracks. chunks of flesh, blood, bone... and other bioburden seemingly never there at all. the shiny chromium finish looking as if they were never used at all. reader who failed out of medical school because of the lack of moral and ethics her professors and physcians saw in her. they banned her from residency.

"can i...have him..? please?" "why would you want an execution order? aren't you an interrogator?" "i want to see the peristalsis!" "the fucking what?" "how his intestines move in his body and squirm around like snakes!!!" she dissects the man in a way only a careful surgeon could. doyen clamps closed off certain sections as she sits and animates the movement on her ipad. the man inhales and exhales evenly, a bandage over his throat, eyes wide and dry from the lack of tears.

soap, as empathetic as he is, sees reader in chow, sitting by herself as she stares dead ahead, mind clouded in thoughts. her arms moves a bit, twiddling her thumbs under the table. he sits down across from her, her gaze staring pass him, face unreadable and almost bored looking. "you alright bonnie?" reader's face smiles, her eyes still dead and still as they lag behind the smile she puts on. her eyes squint. "yeah! why?" "twiddling your thumbs there, anxious about your second mission?" she puts her cupped together hands onto the tabletop. her hands unclasp. she twirls the severed thumbs around. "just a lot on my mind, yeah..."

"can i have it?" reader asks when she sees gaz's shiny teeth.

reader takes interrogations very seriously, taking souvenirs for herself. a finger carefully dried out, teeth, an ear, hair, vital organs in formaldehyde, eyes into earrings, tendons as rings and bracelets.

she gave price a birthday present which included a human heart, dried and shrunk in a glass displayed case. "made it myself", she says. "...on your own time, my love?" "yes, never company time!" his birthday is not public imformation.

ghost was missing a pow. he asks reader. "where is he?" "who?" "the prisoner..." "i let him go." "why the fuck would you do that?" "i'm going hunting, do you want to join? we can dress him in the field!"

"i got you flowers, ghost, for your mother's grave." "how the fuck do you know about that?" "you told me!" "i fucking didn't! now tell me who the fuck told you that shit?!" "you did, don't be silly. you told me over a glass of scotch...or many glasses actually!" she giggles as he slams her against the wall.

price wakes up one night, the spine-chilling feeling of a pair of eyes stalking him. he picks up the gun from his nightstand, clicking off the safety. he blinks a bit, vision clearing and seeing a figure in the shadowy corner. "go back to sle-" her body is slammed against the wall, gun to her head. "go to bed, price." "what...are you doing here?" price breathes out, trying to steady his racing heart, popping the gun back to safety. "wanted a piece of your hair."

gaz finds reader in his room after work one day, reader sweeping his house. he changed the locks within a week, locking all external doors and windows. reader leaves him breakfast every morning still. he trashes it after the cyanide incident. he wakes up to reader with a plate of eggs and toast over his bed. "please eat it and don't waste food :("

the task force lives their day to day lives with the feeling of impending doom, paranoia, and a feeling of dread washing over them all at once whenever they catch a glimpse of you. they beg price to remove you, but price would rather not be covered in cement while still alive.

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queers-gambit · 7 months

Text

"Plan To Make A Gift of It To My Lover"

prompt: ten years ago, Lucerys claimed Aemond's eye, and now, a Lannister will claim her debt.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Lannister!wife!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 5.5k+

note: i use 'lover' because it sounds like the original line, 'mother'. also, what the fuck is this, Cherry?

warnings: very much not for minors! deranged characters? blood lust? depiction of grotesque, unhinged behavior. there's cursing, depiction of canon-typical violence and injury, show timeline and spoilers that lead into some VAGUE book references that might produce a slight AU timeline...? character death, obviously Team Green, so, there's some Team Black slander. half edited!

⚠️ season one, episode ten AND book spoilers

PLEASE BE AWARE I AM GOING TO MERGE THIS ONESHOT INTO A SMALL SERIES BUT WILL STILL LEAVE THIS UP

I AM CHANGING LANNISTER READER INTO A VELARYON READER

Rain water beaded against his leather trench overcoat, rolling off him like pellets to leave a scattered trail on the material. His boots splashed in the muddy terrain, dark castle looming tall in the stormy sky, and Mother Nature voiced her displeasure in the form of booming claps of thunder throughout the raging storm.

Long, straight hair turned unruly and crinkled in the torrential downpour; sticking to clothes and clinging to skin. His sword was latched to his weapons belt, bobbing on his hip with every stride he took to approach the Keep of The Stormlands, Storm's End.

"Identify yourself!" A guard shouted through the haze of rain.

You smirked, "Prince Aemond Targaryen, second son of King Viserys Targaryen, the Peaceful, and rider of Vhagar along with his wife, Lady Lannister."

The guards exchanged looks, then the other asked, "What business do you have here?"

"Official business that surely goes beyond your responsibility," you snapped. "We require an audience with your liege lord. Is Lord Borros in? Willing to receive? You'd do well to answer quickly, Vhagar isn't known for her patience - nor is my husband and I."

There was no dispute in leading you into the castle's throne room, members of court lingering in curiosity when they saw the One Eyed Dragon Prince and his Lady Lioness prowl through Storm's End. Lightning struck to flash through the cracks of the eery castle, creating an uneasy atmosphere and making Storm's End feel spookier then it probably was. Aemond smirked when you looked around the semi-empty throne room, the guards instructing you to stay put as their lord was fetched; you looking positively bored.

"You seem to have a natural liking towards our new status, do you not, my lioness?" He mused softly. "The way you commanded the guards to retrieve their Lord for us was very telling of your ease."

"Perhaps. Though I do not like the reason we are here, flexing our status in the first place," you told him with a sharp look. "Surely, there's other alliances to be made, Aemond. Why marry you off to some plain-faced Baratheon bitch?"

"Because war's come for us and we must all sacrifice for the cause," he sighed, staring at you without so much as twitching; letting you approach until standing chest-to-chest. "We require this pact, my love, because we must strengthen Aegon's claim. To use Daeron and I as marriage pawns feels logical given our proximity to the King."

You snarled, "You told me yourself that Aegon did not deserve to be King. Now, we must sacrifice our marriage vows for his claim?"

"I know it is not ideal," he relented, "but it's our current reality."

"Only for now, I sense the tides will turn several times before this is fucking over."

"Hmm."

When Lord Borros finally arrived, he appeared disgruntled by the abrupt arrival of you and your husband, Prince Aemond. He was grouchy, but still welcoming enough; slumped in his chair, eyeing you both, mentioning, "This must be of grave importance to arrive in such a manner, with no warning."

"It is," Aemond answered smoothly, "because war has come to shadow Westeros once more, my Lord."

"Is that so?"

"King Viserys is dead," he informed clearly, "and as such, the natural succession would've passed to the King's named heir, Princess Rhaenyra, but King VIserys had a change of heart. Instead of his daughter, the King wanted his first born son, Aegon II, to ascend the Iron Throne after him."

"And that's to do with me...?"

"The Princess will demand your loyalty, Lord Borros," you stepped in, "to uphold a stale oath your father made decades ago. Come the day, you will be forced to pick sides; yet we simply would like to offer you terms of consideration before hearing Rhaenyra's."

"If the Princess is willing to offer terms, that is," Aemond punctuated.

Borros sat still, then leaned in slightly, "And what are these terms you wish to offer, girl?"

"My Lady-wife has earned the title Princess, my Lord," Aemond corrected sharply, "and will be addressed as such."

Borros nodded stiffly, "Of course, my apologies."

"No matter," you assured. "Tell me, Lord Borros, do you not have unwed daughters?"

"I do, a gaggle of them."

You smirked, "My husband, though not King, is of ancient and rich Valyrian blood. He is happy to uphold customs of his ancestors by taking another wife - so, we offer a marriage pact in exchange for your swords and banners."

"And what of you?"

"What of me?"

"You would just let your husband wed another woman?"

"Who am I to question the will of the Gods?" You mused, figuring you wouldn't tell him how Aemond had already promised never to bed the Baratheon girl. "Should they smile upon this union, so would I. My father, may he rest in peace, before his passing ensured to instill in me a sense of duty and honor, Lord Borros, and with this civil war, we might all do our part to see the end of it."

He hummed, eyeing you both. "All right," Borros half-agreed, "but which of my daughters, hmm? I've four of them - uh," he snapped, "what is this? Someone fetch the girls! Let the Prince see - he may choose to wed whichever he deems acceptable."

"Do we have a deal, Lord Borros?" You asked.

He nodded, "Pending the Princess' terms - my father did swear fealty to Princess Rhaenyra, I would do well to honor that by at least hearing her."

"A noble answer," you accepted.

It wasn't a long wait for his four daughters to arrive, an even shorter wait for Aemond to make a decision. There was Cassandra, Maris, Ellyn, and Flora Baratheon - all ripe for the picking. "Well?" Aemond asked you.

You shrugged, "This is your choice, you're the one who has to bed her." His lips twitched in amusement, eyeing the women stood in a straight line. "Fuck's sake - why not kiss them all and chose that way? Leaves less room for surprise later. Plus what're the odds Rhaenyra's sent her envoy? We should solidify Baratheon's loyalty now."

Aemond chuckled, looking each woman over carefully as a guard entered the room. "My Lord," he called, earning the attention, "another dragon has been spotted and is approaching the Keep."

"What did I fucking say?" You smirked at Aemond.

"Receive whoever it is," Borros permitted. "And you? Have you come to a decision? My girl, Maris, there, would make a clever wife."

"I've one clever enough wife and would be overrun with another," Aemond answered wistfully. "The Lady Flora is acceptable."

"Very well," Borros nodded, "and the terms of dowry?"

You watched as Aemond pulled Flora from the line of sisters, standing to the side as he examined her. He told Lord Baratheon the number of Gold Dragons he thought his daughter was worth, the two haggling lightly over prices before Borros accepted that with the threat of war, his son might become preoccupied, so, the seat of Storm's End would be inherited by Aemond and Flora's children.

Thunder rumbled as a deal was struck.

Boots marched down the stone hall and all conversation ceased to await the newcomer with taunt curiosity. Aemond subtly turned to look at you, ignoring his pretty new intended, as a procession of guards marched into the gloomy room. You boldly stared at the arrival, feeling your heart stall in your chest when you saw it was him... That bastard... The Strong Bastard that mutilated both you and your husband a decade ago.

"Prince Lucerys Velaryon," it was announced, marching coming to an echoing halt. Aemond chose that moment to turn and present himself to the young prince who haunted your every living and dreaming nightmare. He looked startled to see you both there, the guard ending, "Son of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen."

Against the thundering storm, Lucerys spoke timidly - as if, any louder and his voice would squeak and crack. "Lord Borros... I brought you a message from my mother... The Queen."

"Yet earlier this day, I received an envoy from the King," Borros shot at the young prince. "Which is it? King or Queen? The House of the Dragon does not seem to know who rules it." He laughed at his own joke, but when none others joined, he asked Lucerys stoically, "What's your mother's message?"

The Strong Bastard just held up a scroll like the spoilt brat he was, a guard taking it from his fingers to walk it to the Stag Lord since the Prince deemed himself too important to hand deliver the message. Lord Borros sighed when he took up the scroll, looking expectingly to his court, then snapping, "Where's the bloody Maester?"

Lord Borros Baratheon could not read, you see.

So, you all waited as the Maester was retrieved; Lucerys sparing spooked looks at you and Aemond - the latter of whom just smirked in amusement. Luke couldn't truly see the disfigurement he caused, but your scars almost glittered in the flashes of lightning to assure him they were right where he left them. You turned to your husband, whispering in his ear, "Remember all those times when you promised me his eye as a gift? When shall we be presented an opportunity such as now?"

He shushed you with a restrained smirk, wanting so bad to entertain your banter - and daydream about doing to Luke what he did to you two. You told Aemond you didn't need Luke to bear a scar like your own, and that's when he promised to give you the Prince's eye.

The Maester arrived when Luke felt uneasy enough to palm a fist around the hilt of his sword, elderly man hobbling up to Lord Borros, taking the scroll, then reading it.

The Maester bent to summarize the letter to his Lord. You smirked at Aemond when Borros snapped, "'Remind' me of my father's oath? King Aegon at least came with an offer: my swords and banners for a marriage pact! If I do as your mother bids," he leaned forward on his throne, looking to the side, asking, "which one of my daughters will you wed... Boy?"

"My Lord," Lucerys trembled, "I am not free to marry. I'm already betrothed."

"I did not realize betrothal was weighed heavier than marriage," Borros sneered, indicating to you and Aemond, "which means you come with empty hands. Go home, pup, and tell your mother that the Lord of Storm's End is not some dog that she can whistle up at need to set against her foes."

There was a beat as his words sunk in.

"I shall take your answer to the Queen, my Lord," Lucerys informed, sparing everyone one last look before turning on his heel to vacate.

Yet he couldn't just walk away so easily.

"Wait," Aemond called out loud before you could, the Prince halting, "my Lord Strong." You grinned when Luke turned fully and then stepped forward to the edge of his guarded protection, a look of disbelief adorning his features. "Did you really think that you could just fly about the Realm," he continued, taking a few slow, stalking steps forward with you on his flank and Floris stepping further away, "trying to steal my brother's throne at no cost?"

"I will not fight you," Lucerys declared. "I came as a messenger, not a warrior."

You giggled to mock the boy's sword skill, wanting to hurt the boy's ego as much as possible. Your husband smirked at you before musing, "A fight would be little challenge." He paused to consider his options. "No," he told Lucerys, reaching for his eye patch and pulling the leather from his head. "I want you to put out your eye," He growled, staring at Luke, sapphire winking in the low torchlight; his arm coiling around your waist to keep you at his side. He explained, "As payment for mine. One will serve," and he flipped back his leather overcoat to reveal a dagger, yanking it free to toss across the distance at Lucerys. It clattered and skidded, the sound ominous between the claps and rolling booms of thunder. "I would not blind you," he told the boy. Then, as if concealing a smirk, he finished, "Plan To Make A Gift of It To My Lover."

The ground shook violently when Vhagar landed outside the Driftmark Dragon Pit. The air whooshed your hair back, little feet stumbling back a few paces into the rock wall, hair on the back of your neck standing on end when Aemond dismounted the beast. It wasn't as if you weren't proud or incredibly impressed by his ability to claim the oldest dragon in the known world, but you weren't a Targaryen and dragons made you uneasy.

You could understand animals had minds of their own, and while, yes, Targaryens were closer to Gods than Men because they fly on dragons, you knew they did not control the dragons. They merely domesticated the winged terrors, but you knew the animal could snap at any moment's notice. You didn't like being so close as to become an accidental casualty, so you waited in the mouth of the Pit to give plenty of room between you and Vhagar.

"Well? How was it?"

Aemond beamed at you, "Like nothing I've ever experienced before."

"She's much, much bigger up close," you eyed the dragon watching you both. She was too large in size for the Dragon Pit, but for you, it was a way back into the Driftmark Castle; so, Vhagar was left to her own devices as you and Aemond strode inside.

"You'll have to come flying with me."

"No, no, I like the ground very much. It's safer down here."

"You'll love flying, I can all but promise you."

"If the Gods wanted me in the air, they'd of made me a Targaryen," you teased, both entering the torch-lit passage. "Alas, I am not, so, I think it wise to keep my feet on the ground."

"I'll get you on dragonback with me one day," he smirked. "She's the oldest, you know, and the largest, too."

"I know," you beamed in amusement.

"And she's mine," he whispered, shaking his head and fighting off his grin. You looped your arm with his, giggling your praise over his display of bravery; entering the division foyer of the Pit only to spy Prince Daemon Targaryen's daughters, Baela and Rhaena, with Princess Rhaenyra's sons, Jacerys and Lucerys Velaryon.

"It's them!" One barked.

"It's us," Aemond sneered quickly, understanding confrontation when he felt it. You didn't like this... Something about this exchange felt very wrong; there was four of them, two of you, and you were not their blood relative - so, why be involved at all?

"Vhagar is my mother's dragon!" Rhaena seethed.

"Your mother's dead," Aemond reminded sharply.

You smirked, tacking on, "And Vhagar has a new rider now."

"She was mine to claim!"

"Then you should've claimed her!" You barked in annoyance. "You are not the only dragon-less Targaryen, but you're the one who expects to just be gifted one!"

Aemond sneered right after you, "Maybe your cousins can gift you a pig to ride. It would suit you."

This (rightfully) angered the girls. Rhaena charged and latched onto Aemond but was easily swatted to the ground. At that same moment, her twin, Baela, took the opportunity to jab her knuckle into your nose, sending you into the dirt. "Fuck's sake!" You snapped, Aemond clocking the injury and slamming his fist against Baela's cheek to send her into the dirt, too.

Aemond helped you to your feet as he snarled at the girls, "Come at us again and I'll feed you to my dragon!"

Jace charged, and from there, it was a blur of adrenaline. Before you understood, you were defending yourself from a hurricane of fists and feet; reaching up to grab hold of Rhaena's locs and yank as hard as you could. It gave you a small advantage to get up, see the three others beating on Aemond, and rushed for the fray.

The Prince saw you and pause his resistance to let you grab hold of Baela - also pulling her so hard, a loc or two might've been ripped from her scalp. Aemond kicked Jace, you sent the girls into the dirt, and Aemond managed to catch hold of Lucerys by the throat as he got to his feet. Aemond's hand found purchase on a large rock, standing above them all as you panted from his side; rock raised in threat.

"You will die screaming in flames, just as your father did!" Aemond declared, snarling, "Bastards."

Through his whimpering, Luke sobbed, "My father's still alive!"

For a moment, Aemond appeared disarmed, but then sneered, "He doesn't know, does he? Lord Strong?"

This upset Prince Jacerys enough that he brandished a concealed dagger from his sleeve; holding it at the ready, ignoring his cousin's pleas of his name. "Blade in play," you warned Aemond.

Luke was kicked away, Jace was dodged, disarmed, then shoved to the ground. You were all bruised, bloodied, beaten; thinking that despite twice the numbers, you and Aemond managed to hold your own pretty damn well. The Prince lifted the rock again, this time with his sights set on Jace, ignoring Luke scrambling in the dirt.

Pretty damn well until it was too late.

You screamed in absolute horror when a white hot pain flashed across your face when you meant to turn away from the fight. You went down, Aemond looked over in shock and confusion, and in that moment, Lucerys swung his brother's blade again. It cut through half of Aemond's face, the eye being severed in two; blood gushing between both your hands.

Of course, this was the time the White Cloaks arrived - but it was too late. The damage was done. You sobbed uselessly as the knights tried to help you off the ground, trembling violently as adrenaline wore off. You were instantly escorted to the castle's throne room where the Maester and other attendants met you.

Guards posted.

Blood soaked into cloth.

The Queen arrived with the Hand before anyone else - instantly demanding her son (and you) be attended to at once. She listened to the shaky account of events, but it was difficult to get an accurate picture as you and Aemond were both preoccupied with being medically attended to.

You held Aemond's hand as you were both cleaned up. There was nothing to save, Aemond's eye removed and your face being pinched and stitched. Nearly 200 years from now, one of your descendants will earn nearly the exact same scar during the Battle of the Blackwater; a mark that cut through the face from temple, over the nose, to opposite ear.

You listened to the spoiled brats spin their webs, opting to remain quiet in the presence of the King.

However, after Princess Rhaenyra finally showed up with Prince Daemon, after Lord Corlys Velaryon and Lady Rhaenys Targaryen arrived, attention shifted.

" - Didn't just mutilate our son, but the Lady Lannister as well!" Alicent raged.

King Viserys eyed you as if seeing you for the first time, slowly approaching. "My Lady," he spoke softly, "you have not yet said a word this evening."

"It is not my place, Your Grace."

"It is now," he permitted. "Speak, and tell me the truth of it. What happened tonight?"

You swallowed nervously, "The Prince Aemond claimed his dragon, Vhagar, Your Grace, and upon returning, the... Uh, well, the Princes Jacerys and Lucerys along with their cousins, Ladies Rhaena and Baela, were waiting for us."

"Waiting?" Viserys repeated.

"Yes, Your Grace, I believe they wanted to see who had claimed Vhagar," you offered.

"Who hit who first?"

With a sigh, you answered, "Lady Baela hit Prince Aemond first. A solid hook, for whatever it's worth."

Alicent now approached, squatting in front of you and asking, "How did you sustain such injury, Lady Lannister? Come... Speak the truth. Tell us the meaning of this."

"Prince Jacerys brought the blade, Your Grace," you mumbled, "but it was lost in the scuffle. It was Prince Lucerys who offered injury to both Prince Aemond and I."

You could've cried when Rhaenyra, as usual, managed to somehow spin your story into making her sons the victims. Despite being told the four ambushed you two, they weren't even reprimanded because their parents were all so angry that it truly distracted from the present situation at hand. In the end, Queen Alicent snapped and charged to attack, but the Princess Rhaenyra intercepted her before damage could be done.

The blade Alicent stole from her husband's belt was dropped - but not before the tip sliced into the flesh of the Princess' forearm. You were fuming, watching them all leave; you had been seriously maimed, and so far, you had been the one spoken to as if a criminal. Rhaenyra would need stitches, sure, and a broken nose was the worst of their injuries - but Aemond lost his eye, and you?

You felt as if you lost your life because who the hell would want you now? With this scar? This big, fat, noticeable scar that split your face? Sure, your Lannister name would get you places - but not everywhere. Considering your young age, this only left time for rumors to fester and for everyone to notice your injury; being no escape and no where to hide from ridicule.

For years, you would consider yourself damaged. For years, you would mourn yourself. For years, you would sharpen your mind, wit, and intelligence because if you couldn't bring standard "beauty" to the table, you wanted to be able to offer something redeeming.

For years, you would undergo emotional turmoil before your engagement to Aemond is announced; convincing yourself you did not deserve love because your anger made you likened to a shrew. You felt ugly on the outside, ugly on the inside; a product of your environment and experiences. When the promise of marrying your best mate was bestowed, the entire court was shocked by the 180 you both did; where once stony and stoic, both were now soft and kind - but only to one another.

To everyone else, you were both still stony and indifferent. But to each other? You and Aemond would move mountains.

Yet that night on Driftmark would haunt for you for the rest of your lives; no matter the promise of love, marriage, and a 'normal' life. Late nights would be held together, fantasizing about your revenge; considering the future in which you made Lucerys Strong pay for what he did to you.

"Plan To Make A Gift of It To My Lover."

"No," Lucerys barked, looking distraught by the sheer idea of what Aemond demanded. His answer made the amusement drain from Aemond's features, this was a man not often told no. His hand passed you his eye patch for safe keeping; the raging storm outside portraying the tension brewing in the throne room of Storm's End.

"Then you are craven as well as a traitor."

"Not here!" Borros understood fighting words when he heard them - not wanting the repercussions of a dead or injured Prince Lucerys, because, let's face it, Luke couldn't do damage to Aemond even if he tried.

Aemond literally sprang into action, releasing his grip on you, shouting as he strode forward. "Give me your eye," he stooped to snatch his dagger from the ground, "or I will take it, bastard!"

Lucerys brandished his sword for protection, but Borros launched out of his seat to intervene by shouting, "Not in my hall!" This made Aemond skid to a halt. "The boy came an an envoy. I'll not have bloodshed beneath my roof. Take Prince Lucerys back to his dragon... Now."

You smirked when Aemond just watched the boy flee the hall, hand flipping his dagger expertly before sheathing it. You met his gaze, holding prolonged eye contact to publicly show you were not afraid of him, his looks, his lack of eye, or adoration for him.

"Well, Lord Borros," you mused, turning to the Stag Lord, "looks as if you've chosen in this war."

He huffed, "We can discuss specifics later."

Aemond nodded, "We'll be off."

"Do not - "

"You said no blood shed under your roof," you reminded, "not above."

"The Prince is young and small - "

"We gave him a fair head start." Borros looked ready to rebuttal, but you snapped, "We're at war, my Lord. Either you let the dragons fight in the skies or it'll be your men fighting in the trenches. The choice is yours."

"See that? His woman bites harder than he," Maria scoffed to her sisters, only juuuuust loud enough for her voice to carry across the room. Then she snarled at your husband, "Tell me, Prince Aemond, was it just your eye Prince Lucerys took, or one of your balls, too? You threw a dagger at him and stopped when Daddy said stop," her eyes rolled, "those are not qualities of a man."

You were ready to attack. In fact, you started striding up to Maris when Aemond intercepted you swiftly with a suffocatingly strong grip. "We've more important matters," he reminded you, turning, and promising to send word to Lord Borros before disappearing out of the side door.

"How dare she," you seethed on your way to Vhagar. "That buck-tooth looking rodent dares insult you? Her own Prince? In front of others - oh, the nerve of that family!"

"Bigger picture at work here, love," Aemond mused as he fixed his patch back on, never one to address the things that were bothering him - like when someone hurt his feelings or bullied him over his missing eye.

But you were always ready to bite those that offered insult. You were a Lion in a golden cage, after all.

You grumbled the entire time, reaching Vhagar, launching as discreetly as she possibly could to scan the skies. It wasn't easy to find the Prince because his dragon blended into the storm so perfectly, but once the tiny beast was located, you were locked on. You rode behind Aemond in his saddle, both being harnessed to prevent any unseating; the combined weight never phasing his ol' girl. Vhagar understood they were in some kind of chase, and when she gave a grumble that rumbled over the thunder you flew through, Aemond gave her a command in High Valyrian to quiet herself.

You could see glimpses of Luke turning to search areas you had just vacated; loving this game of cat and mouse. You hoped the anticipation and anxiety of being watched was upsetting the Prince - just so he had a little bit of emotional trauma from this, you know? Just so he had a little taste of the emotional turmoil you had to suffer the past decade.

"Ready?" Aemond asked you.

You squeezed his waist before boldly reaching down to palm his cock through his breeches, hissing in his ear, "Do it, you owe me a gift."

Aemond grinned and directed Vhagar to circle around and fly forward until almost colliding with Lucerys - should he not've steered Arrax lower at the last moment. The close call was enough to make you both laugh, the sound traveling over the noisy nature. Aemond turned Vhagar again, trying to snatch at Arrax with her talons while your husband hurled insults and taunting phrases as his nephew.

With a small groan, you reached for a separate piece of the saddle to hold onto while Aemond drove Vhagar into a nosedive after the smaller dragon. When they came up to a cavern of sea rocks, Aemond was forced to pull Vhagar back before she could crash - but Arrax had no issue navigating into and through the canyon. You were forced to fly above it, searching for your prey once more.

Lucerys seemed to evade you for a time.

"What happens when we find him?"

"I will have the bastard's eye," he reminded you.

"Yes, but what if he resists?"

"Of course he will."

"So you mean to kill him? Is that the plan, Aemond?"

He did not answer you, looking over Vhagar's sides for his prey. He shouted in High Valyrian, "You owe a debt! Boy!"

Suddenly, from your left, Arrax descended upon Vhagar with a vicious spewing of fire that licked your flesh hatefully. Aemond flinched back into your chest, trying to shield yourselves from the heat of the flames, but it was too late. You cried out, whimpering with discomfort when the flames died; marring and mangling your skin. Prince Lucerys was heard scolding his dragon, and for a moment, you felt as if you could see the future because there was no way Vhagar was going to let that kind of disrespect occur and do nothing about it.

The ol' girl gave a rumble before bellowing after Arrax. She turned herself to where the other dragon had disappeared and started to push off as her owner begged and pleaded with her not to. "Serve me, Vhagar, no!" He commanded, desperate to keep his beast under control, but being evident these two wild animals were in an altercation all their own and meant to follow their instinct.

"We want his head still, Vhagar!" You laughed loudly, Aemond growling with a smirk.

"Do not encourage her!"

"Do not try to domesticate a 180-year-old dragon!" You gave a small whoop of excitement. "She's a Dragon of War, Aemond! Violence is what she knows!"

He grunted as he struggled with the reins. However, Vhagar ignored him and made her own turn, pumping her wings twice and then breaking into the morning sun above the storm. For a fleeting moment, it was incredibly gorgeous to be so high in the sky...

And then it was over before anyone could stop it.

Vhagar opened her mouth and gave one chomp around the body of boy and dragon. There was a shrill cry of fear before Vhagar's moan of content, then eery silence settled as half-consumed bits fell to the ground beneath.

"Well," you cleared your throat, staring at the bloody bits falling, "if it wasn't enough that Aegon took her crown, surely, the two of us taking her son will be the push Rhaenyra needs to meet us in conflict."

"No," he cleared his throat, "you were not here - "

"I was, I would not allow you to bear this burden on your own. To take the blame," you met his eye. "I encouraged this just as much, and Rhaenyra will know it was us - she'd never believe I was not involved."

"Can you not be logical right now?" He trembled, leaning his forehead to yours.

"Okay..." You whispered, "Well, could we go see if there's anything left?"

"That's morbid, my love."

"What? You're the one who promised me his eye. I know you didn't mean for this, but the truth is," you smirked, "you did. You knew what pursuing him would result in - your dragon doesn't understand your need for revenge, she understands eat or be eaten."

Aemond sighed, "Too soon for that phrase."

"Noted. Now, c'mon," you encouraged, giving his waist a squeeze. "I know you're curious to see what's left, too."

And he was, so Aemond directed Vhagar back down. It was difficult to predict where the body parts could've ended up, but seemingly, luck was on your side and you descended to the shore. There was a small scattering of remains, bits being washed up or away with every new lap of sea water.

You dismounted and started searching through the remnants, storm still outlandishly raging around you. "Love?" Aemond spoke from behind you, making you jump slightly. He smirked, "Got something for you, my Lioness."

"You do not..." He held up the messily decapitated head of Lucerys "Velaryon", your laugh surprising and genuine. "Oh, we're sooo going to Seven Hells," you sighed, shrugging, "but you know, it doesn't really get worse than what we've already done, so," you motioned for him to set the head down.

"Here," he agreed, using his dagger to harvest Lucerys' eyeballs from the skull you helped hold. When he was done, you chucked the head away before Aemond's bloody hands set both eyes in your cupped, outstretched palms; watching you weigh them.

"You know, Lannisters always pay their debts," you mused, smirk pulling at your lips, "but we also are always repaid our debts. How strange, to hold his eyes and think they were once functioning... In his head, of use, probably full of tears when Vhagar chased him in the sky."

"Hm," Aemond considered, then pointed to your hand. "It's with his eyes, I promise you, my Lioness, the fall of our enemies." He proclaimed, then musing, "Should we give Maris Baratheon one to prove ourselves?"

You smirked, "She said you must've lost your balls, right?"

"Almost positive Vhagar ate Lucerys' so we cannot present her with them."

"Damnit," you pouted. "All right, fine, sure, we might show the Baratheon's we mean war... But I'd like to keep them both, please."

"What are you going to do with them?"

"Put them in a jar and keep until I'm no longer angry about what he did to us..."

"So, his eyes are going on our mantle?"

"You bet your sweet balls," you grinned, twirling Lucerys Velaryon's Strong's organs in your hand like a pair of game dice.

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

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dollwrites · 7 months

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𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!sorcerer!reader, they’re both still in jjhigh, geto involvement, revenge / blackmail mention, pet play, sex toys, gojo is meanie, degradation, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 ∣ day fourteen [ gojo satoru + pet play ] // one of three very special pieces dedicated to very special people! this one is for @arabaka 💚 love love you jackie!!

if you would’ve known Satoru had a pet play kink, you never would have agreed to this stupid bet. hell, you knew before you agreed that you probably going to lose, but you couldn’t help but at least try to knock his arrogant ass down a peg or two. still, even though your failure was almost guaranteed, you never thought the penalty would be so… humiliating.

“G—gonna get me… exprrrled—“ it was difficult to talk, because every time you tried to form words, no matter how muffled or distorted they were, you drooled around the bone-shaped silicone gag strapped tight between your teeth.

your eyelids fluttered when he tugs on the leash, tightening the chain-collar around your throat and bringing your attention up to where he sat, sprawled in his desk. his long legs outstretched. “Only if you get caught.” Gojo chuckles as he says this, giving your collar another rough tug. “Now, look cute and obedient for the cameras, pup.”

a handful of flashes went off at once as your classmates encircled you, capturing this incredibly humiliating moment in snapshots to no doubt blackmail you with later. Geto seems particularly amused by seeing you on the floor on your knees, drooling in little but your panties and a leash. he snapped picture after picture, getting one from every angle, as Gojo uses his grip on your lead to make you pose. you thought maybe it was because when he had tried to kiss you last year, you’d gut-punched him.

maybe Gojo had been plotting this sort of revenge against you since you rejected his best friend. or, maybe he was just this deranged.

your eyes watered.

it wasn’t because of the flashes or even the choker, but the relentless, humming vibe stuffed in your panties. the battery chamber juts out in a tent of wet fabric, keeping the phallic dildo jammed and rotating in your clenching canal, and the flickering bunny ears teasing your clit until your eyes crossed, and your cunt started to dribble juices on the floor beneath where you sat. “I wonder how many times my bitch has cum already.” Gojo snickered, mischievous as he pushes at your back with the toe of his shoe, forcing you on all fours instead of your knees. you slurred out a moan, thighs trembling, and press your chest to the floor, reluctantly obedient for him. “Enough to ruin her panties and make a mess of this floor. Aren’t you embarrassed, puppy? To be so messy and needy?”

you nod, but you get the feeling he doesn’t really care if you are.

“S-srrrtorruuu…” you groan, eyes rolling back when he leans forward and grabs the base of the toy, jiggling it tauntingly through your panties. “N-nrrr mrrr…”

“Hmm? What’s that, puppy?” he teases, leaning closer still, as if trying to decipher what you’re saying. you look up at him weakly, spit and tears mixing on the floor beneath your chin, and repeat the plea for this humiliating moment to end. but he beams with delight, and gives your ass a swat. “Sounds like you want something. Well, you know what good puppies do, don’t you? They beg. Go on, be a good, slutty pup and nuzzle me, beg for your treats and I might just let our friends get some nice shots of you bent over the desk, taking my cock and your favorite toy in your greedy hole.” as he says this, he runs his hand along your face instead, and much to your own surprise, you do just what he asks. you tried to tell yourself it was out of the hope that if you did what he wanted, he’d go easy on you, but the truth was much more depraved than that. you were starting to like being his little bitch. rubbing your wet cheek against his palm, you mewl and bat your eyelashes.

“P-pleasseee… gov mrrr treats!”

#gojo #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

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weebsinstash · 1 month

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Thinking bout how mean demi Alastor would be regarding the post cheating/meltdown/breakup sex… he’s still a sadist and now that he’s more comfortable with physical intimacy and like 20% more deranged that def gets reflected in his “catering to your needs”. Overstim, edging, anything that leaves you at his “mercy”

Reader, visibly sweating because YOU know that HE knows most of the dirty dirty nasty NASTY SHENANIGANS you've committed in the last month or two of Just Straight Up Sluttery: so Alastor, now that you've discovered this new part of yourself, surely you've, uh, developed some new tastes and healthy outlets for intimacy?

Alastor, who's just spent the last several weeks rounding up all your sexual partners and he does mean ALL of them to torture every last detail of what you did out of them, and has recently discovered how much he likes the feeling of a riding crop in his hands, along with a list of kinks where cheating/cuckoldry is definitely NOT one of them: oh yes :) healthy outlets :) so anyways my pet, about your punishment--

You're just like "ok Alastor um, since you're new to this and old fashioned you probably want to, cuddle, and, ease into it, and--" bitch he wants to tie you up. Bitch he has developed SUCH a craving for watching you tied up and helpless because, oh you're so sweet and vulnerable and need him to protect you ❤️ his sweet vulnerable little doe ❤️ aw, your struggling is so cute ❤️ do you want to be let go? Guess you better beg nice and pretty~

I dunno man... I was LITERALLY discussing a concept like this with an asexual buddy of mine actually, the amount of aces horny for Alastor is giving, truly, and we were MUTUALLY like, "listen... listen... asexuality is real and we respect that, ok... but it's also a spectrum... and I want this man going his entire life and afterlife not caring or having a taste for those things UNTIL he meets you and he has to deal with, discover, and come to understand all his new desires" and I keep thinking of multiple ways to swing that?

Just him having his equivalent of his first schoolboy crush and not knowing why he can't stop himself from laughing at your jokes? Why is he suddenly so... POSSESSIVE of your company? Why does he want to hurt the men who come around you even more than usual? He goes to Rosie for advice and she's just, DROPPING HER TEA CUP, "oh ALASTOR HONEY, you've got yourself a little crush!!" and all but squealing with delight as she wants ALL the details and, well, Rosie IS a trusted friend... and once he starts talking about you, he can't stop himself for some reason, he just enjoys sharing little details and stories and things about you amd, oh gosh Rosie you should hear this thing that happened the other day it was just the most charming little--

I want this man coming to take you back and he's kicking some door down and he finds you THROATING A GUY. I want it AWKWARD. I want him finding you doing something that immediately makes everyone involved go OH SHIT. I want some dude freaking out hollering "THE RADIO DEMON?!" because he and a buddy were spitroasting you on your hands and knees and you give a very recognizable "alastor????" around the dude's meat CLEARLY KNOWING THE GUY and your unlucky one night stand has his Oh Fuck moment as he makes perfect eye contact with the notorious cannibal who is currently witnessing this, uh, gentleman having his hand fisted in your hair as he--

Just the mental image of, it's the end of the night or even the morning and the fucking sun is coming up or, their time equivalent of sunrise since I don't think they have like days and nights, but, Alastor is just sitting there reading a book humming to himself, completely put together not a hair out of place, with candles going, a gentle song on the radio, and beside him you're just facedown completely naked in bed with welts all over your ass as his shadow gives you a nice aftercare massage. Dude just sips some coffee, humming and smirking as he regards you "now did we learn our lesson about... making impulsive unsafe decisions without consulting our partner?"

you, still face down as your legs still refuse to stop shaking: that if I want to get fucked really hard all I have to do is commit adultery?

Alastor, who has recently discovered all the Super Fun New Ways he can fuck 'discipline' you for riling him up and getting him jealous on purpose because now that he's finally acting like this it's all but making you a cat in heat 'being a brat', smiling with legitimate sadistic glee as he reaches for a pair of leather gloves: incorrect :)

#yandere hellaverse #yandere x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #yandere stuff #AND THEN VOX FINDS OUT AND HES SO FUCKING JEALOUS. 'OH SO YOU CAN FUCK T H E M BUT NOT ME' $*$&“#sinprompts #hh

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