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fragileheartbeats · 3 months

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⌗ 𝘈𝘚𝘖𝘐𝘈𝘍 𝘏𝘊 ⁝ 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 ( ♱ )

— 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘐, 𝘔𝘢𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘳, 𝘑𝘢𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘴 𝘐, 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯, 𝘉𝘢𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯, 𝘈𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘴 𝘐𝘐, 𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘴 𝘐𝘐𝘐, 𝘙𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘳, 𝘈𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥, 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘐𝘐 <3

˚꒰🌼꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐈 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑹𝑶𝑹 ─ ♕

Possessive Protector

Aegon would view his sister as a crucial part of his reign, an extension of his own power and influence. He would be intensely protective, viewing any threat to you as a threat to his realm. His love would be as fierce as his ambition, and he would go to great lengths to ensure your safety and happiness, often equating the two. He might call you "My Queen," elevating you above all others in title and in his heart. His demonstration of love would be grand gestures, like dedicating victories or conquests in your name. His obsession is less about controlling you and more about ensuring your safety and happiness, albeit in a way that places you within a golden cage. He would be intensely protective, using his power to shield you from any perceived threat. He would lavishing you with gifts and luxuries from across the Seven Kingdoms, Aegon makes sure you have everything you desire—except freedom.

As you walked through the gardens, Aegon's arm never left your side, his presence a towering fortress that no fear could penetrate. "All this," he gestured to the sprawling city beyond, "is yours, as much as I'm yours. Together, there is nothing we cannot conquer."

𝐌𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑹𝑼𝑬𝑳 ─ ⸸

Ruthless Dominator

Maegor's love would be terrifying in its intensity. He would see any perceived slight against you as a personal affront, worthy of his cruellest retribution. His way of showing love would be to remove any and all obstacles to your happiness—often permanently. He might refer to you as "My Heart," a term of endearment that suggests you are the only softness in his hardened world. His demonstrations of affection would be acts of protection and vengeance, ensuring you are untouchable and revered. He sees you as his alone, reacting violently to any perceived competition or dissent. His love is a suffocating force, controlling every aspect of your life. To Maegor, you are a possession, the only person he believes can understand him, yet someone he fears losing to the point of paranoia.

In the quiet of the night, Maegor whispered promises of undying loyalty and protection, his words a stark contrast to the tales of his ruthlessness. "You are mine," he growls, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "And those who dare even think to harm you will face my wrath," he vowed, a dark promise that chilled you to the bone yet filled you with a perverse sense of safety.

𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐒 𝐈 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑰𝑺𝑬 ─ ✦

Benevolent Guardian

Jaehaerys's approach would be gentler, his love grounded in respect and a deep desire for your well-being. He would go to great lengths to ensure you have a voice and agency, rare for the times. He might call you "My Light," seeing you as the beacon that guides his rule. His love would be shown through acts of kindness and the creation of laws that protect and empower you. He would be your unwavering supporter, always seeking to resolve conflicts in your favor. Jaehaerys's love is subdued and patient, believing deeply in the power of his bond with you. He's protective in a way that seeks to uplift and support you, though he struggles with the idea of you wanting anything—or anyone—beyond him. He treat you with kindness and respect, always striving to ensure your happiness and fulfillment, yet subtly steering you away from any paths that lead away from him. He sees you as his partner in every aspect, the wisdom behind his throne, yet fears the thought of you not needing him as much as he needs you.

Under the vast sky, Jaehaerys took your hand, his touch gentle. "With you, I see a future bright with promise," he said, his voice full of hope. "Together, we will build a realm where love and justice prevail."

𝐃𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑹𝑶𝑮𝑼𝑬 𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑪𝑬 ─ 𖤐

Passionate Rebel

Daemon's love would be as fiery as his dragon. He would be impulsively protective, often acting first on his emotions. His term of endearment might be "My Flame," indicative of the burning intensity of his love. His way of showing affection would be through daring acts meant to impress you, sometimes bordering on recklessness. He would see you as his equal in spirit and adventure, always seeking to include you in his escapades. Daemon's obsession is wild and untamed, driven by a desire for your attention and adoration. He craves a partner in his adventures, sometimes at the cost of your own wishes or safety. He might keep secrets from you to "protect" you, believing that the end justifies the means.

As you soared above the clouds on dragonback, Daemon's laughter echoed through the sky. "With you, every risk is worth taking," he shouted over the roar of the wind, his eyes alight with wild love.

𝐁𝐀𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑪𝑬 ─ ✿

Gentle Watcher

Baelon would be the type to show his love through constant, steadfast companionship. He would be protective but in a more reserved manner, always there to offer a supporting hand rather than leaping into battle. He might affectionately call you "My Blossom," seeing you as the rejuvenating force in his life. His demonstrations of love would be thoughtful gifts and gestures, each meant to remind you of his unwavering presence in your life. Baelon's obsession is quieter, more reflective. He deeply values your presence in his life, seeing you as a guiding light. His protection is more about ensuring your happiness and less about control. He treat you with tenderness and care, always attentive to your needs and desires, even if it means putting his own aside. He sees you as his sanctuary, the peace he turns to in a tumultuous world, yet fears the day you might find sanctuary elsewhere.

In the quiet sanctuary of your shared chambers, Baelon offered you a rare book, its pages filled with tales of legendary heroes. "To inspire us both," he said softly, his gaze warm with admiration and love, "for you are the truest hero in my eyes."

𝐀𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐒 𝐈𝐈 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑨𝑫 𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 ─ ✞

Paranoid Sovereign

In his youth, before madness took a strong grip, Aerys's love would have been passionate, marked by high highs and low lows. His affection could be overwhelming, suffused with an intensity that's both captivating and daunting. He would see you as his sanctuary, the only person he could trust, calling you "My Solace." His demonstrations of love would be lavish, yet erratic, reflecting his increasingly unpredictable nature. He would be extremely protective, seeing threats in shadows, often acting irrationally to safeguard you from real and imagined dangers. Initially tender and loving, his treatment becomes erratic, with moments of warmth punctuated by sudden, baseless accusations and demands for proof of your loyalty. He show his love through lavish gifts and public declarations of your importance to him, which slowly become attempts to isolate you from perceived threats.

Within the confines of the Red Keep, Aerys held you close, his gaze flickering with a mix of devotion and an edge of something darker. "You are the only light in a realm filled with snakes and shadows," he whispered, his touch both tender and possessive.

𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐒 𝐈𝐈𝐈 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑬𝑮𝑮𝑨𝑹 𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 ─ ＊

Desperate Dreamer

Viserys's love would be fraught with desperation and a deep-seated fear of loss. His affection would be possessive, driven by the fear of losing another pillar of his identity. Having faced so much hardship, he would cling to you as his one true claim to happiness, calling you "My Treasure." His way of showing love would be through promises of future grandeur, envisioning a life where you both reign supreme. His protective nature would stem from his paranoia of losing you, just as he lost everything else, leading to controlling behavior masked as concern.

In the dim light of your meager shelter, Viserys's fingers traced the lines of your face as if memorizing each detail. "Soon, we'll return to our home," he murmured with a fervor born of desperation, "and I'll crown you as my queen, my only love."

𝐑𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐑 | 𝑺𝑰𝑳𝑽𝑬𝑹 𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑪𝑬 ─ ♫

Melancholic Poet

Rhaegar's approach to love would be deeply emotional, tinged with melancholy and a sense of destiny. He would view you as his fated companion, calling you "My Muse." His demonstrations of love would be poetic and thoughtful, often expressed through song or written words. His protective nature would be subtle, more about ensuring your happiness and fulfillment, believing that your paths are inextricably linked by the stars themselves. He treat you with a gentle yet distant affection, often lost in his thoughts and prophecies, struggling to balance his visions with the reality of your relationship.

On the shores of the Quiet Isle, Rhaegar played his harp under the moonlight, the soft melody a testament to his undying affection. "In every life, in every world, I'd find you," he said, his voice low, "for our souls are bound by the music of the universe."

𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑶𝑵𝑬-𝑬𝒀𝑬 ─ 𓆸

Vengeful Warrior

Aemond's love would be fierce, marked by a warrior's intensity and a readiness to confront any challenge. He would refer to you as "My Victory," seeing your affection as the most significant triumph of his life. His way of showing love would be through acts of protection and a readiness to engage in battle for your honor. His possessiveness could manifest in jealousy, quick to perceive rivals for your affection as enemies to be vanquished. He treat you with a volatile mix of passion and jealousy, often viewing any attention you give to others as a challenge to his claim over you.

Amidst the ruins of a conquered castle, Aemond declared his undying loyalty to you, his single eye burning with a fervent promise. "To the ends of the earth, I'd fight to keep you safe," he vowed, his arm around you a steel band of protection as he whispered in your ear "I would die for you."

𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐈 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑼𝑺𝑼𝑹𝑷𝑬𝑹 ─ ☁︎

Broken Monarch

Aegon's obsession would be tied to his lack of love, seeing you as his whole world. He would call you "My World" or "My Crown," indicating both his affection and his aspirations where you are concerned. His love is demanding, expecting your loyalty and affection as his sister. His demonstrations of love would be grandiose, aimed at solidifying both his and your status. His protectiveness would stem from a desire to be loved, viewing threats to you as threats to himself, and he would not hesitate to use his resources to eliminate such threats. Through public displays of favor and privilege, making sure everyone knows of your special status, yet this often feels more like marking his territory than genuine affection. He treat you with a mix of indulgence and expectation, showering you with gifts and attention but always with the underlying demand for your undivided loyalty and love.

In the opulent halls of the Red Keep, Aegon placed a delicate crown upon your head, his gaze locked with yours. "Together, we are invincible," he proclaimed, "and I will let no one, nothing, stand in our way."

@fragileheartbeats . Don't plagiarise, repost, or translate any of my works on here or any other websites.

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freelancearsonist · 3 months

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Won't You Suffer for the Angels to Fly?

➔ Joel Miller x fem!Reader - 2k

➔ Joel finds religion in the last place he expected to--a preacher's daughter.

➔ Rated MA for pure blasphemy. a lot of religious imagery and defiling of holy places--please read at your own risk. unprotected p in v sex, creampie, squirting, fingering (f receiving), corruption kink, HEFTY age gap (r is early 20s [unspecified], joel is 56), reader uses feminine pronouns and has female anatomy [please let me know if i missed anything at all :)]

➔ this is for my mid to plus!sized readers :) you're beautiful and valid and i love you. this was written in basically one sitting after i binged mike flanagan's midnight mass in one night. thank you to my lovelies @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin and @shakespeareanwannabe for talking me through this <3 title is from "heaven only knows" by bob moses

The Bible teaches–at least according to what Joel was able to gleam from the Easter service–that everything happens for a reason. That every pelting raindrop in its descent from the sky, even before it lands heavy and dark in his hair or soaks the lush green landscape of Jackson, has a purpose.

He’s struggled a lot with purpose ever since hearing that existential crisis-inspiring sermon that Tommy had dragged him to.

In the preacher’s defense, it went over well with everyone else. So many people are lost nowadays, adrift in a world that doesn’t seem to have space for them. They need that hope, that reassurance that they’re here for a reason. That they’ve survived hell on earth not out of luck, but out of purpose. He pulled out the big gun that everyone needed to hear on one of the two days a year that everyone in Jackson has their ears open to him. It was tactful, and Joel has to acknowledge that. Your father is clever, if not cunning.

It’s a trait that you’ve learned directly from him, whether purposeful or not. But you sat right in the front row and nodded along to every word, accepting without thought or conflict that purpose is in every action, every reaction, every change of tide and every gust of wind.

And if everything has a purpose, your purpose must be to torture him.

You never have anything but a smile on your face for Joel. Joel, a man older than your own father, a man whose hands have broken every commandment that you hold so dear. A man that should know better than to let you get under his skin and infect his dreams.

He wonders what it would be like to hold someone so perfectly untainted in hands that have killed and destroyed and sinned. Hands that are strong, hands that are experienced, hands that are greedy. He’s certain he could teach you all about greed. He could make you beg, plead, sob for more and more and more until the only thought remaining in your pretty little head is how much you want to take from him. Until you become a glutton at the altar of his generosity.

And oh, how generous he could be once he had you begging. Minding your manners and asking nicely for what you need, of course, but he would never deny you anything you asked of him.

“Can I help you with that, Mr. Miller?” He hadn’t even noticed he was struggling–and he wouldn’t be, really, if he wasn’t so distracted. Putting new legs on a pew isn’t the issue after all; it’s the fact that you’re sitting there on the stairs that lead up to the altar and absentmindedly swinging your legs as if you’re taunting him. As if you understand that his resolve is slipping with every passing second he’s alone in this room with you.

“Joel.”

“Hmm?” You shift your posture to lean closer, and that skirt that’s already way too short to be worn by the pastor’s daughter, in a house of God of all places, rides just a little further up your deliciously full thighs.

How is he expected to work, to keep his mind on the job, when all he wants is to know what those thighs might feel like wrapped around his head?

He clears his throat and adjusts “You can call me Joel, sweetheart.”

He sees it, then. It’s so subtle, but it’s not imagined. You squirm at the pet name, at the raspy drawl of his voice, and it changes everything for him.

He sees in his mind the sweet girl, barely out of her teens, who sits in the front pew with a Bible in her lap. He sees the girl who sings so sweetly to the tune of every hymn. He sees the girl who’s so shy that she blushes every time she catches his gaze.

And then he sees everything underneath the act. He sees the girl who’s bold enough to wear a bright red dress to the Easter service. He sees the girl who makes eye contact with him across the dining hall every night to watch the way he reacts to her lips wrapped so tantalizingly smoothly around her spoon. He sees the girl who knew he would be alone in the chapel today–the girl who wore an easily accessible skirt just for the occasion.

You bookmark the page you’re on and set down the book you were reading, eyes fixated on him all the while. “Is there something I can help with, Joel?”

There certainly is, and it’s not the pew he’s supposed to be repairing.

He remembers, vaguely, hearing something about how God spares guilt from sinners when sin is necessary. It must be necessary to teach you a lesson, then–as you stride over and kneel beside him, your eyes heavy with anticipation and lashes fluttering, he doesn’t feel an ounce of guilt.

“Hasn’t your daddy taught you not to dress like this?” He takes the hem of your skirt idly in his hand, rubs the silky fabric between his thumb and forefinger. He’s not touching you, not really, but his hand is so achingly close. An inch or two, and he’d feel your warmth–those plush thighs that God created to rule over Joel Miller’s mind, body, and soul; ‘til death does he finally know peace, amen.

You shake your head and even manage to seem smug as you say, “No. He just teaches everyone else to resist temptation.”

“I’ve never been much good at that,” he murmurs.

He thinks that you know that. He thinks that you’re his crucible, his most important moral trial–that maybe, if he can turn you away now, he’s a good man.

Joel Miller is not a good man. His kiss is crushing. It’s hellfire, it’s brimstone, it’s everything you’ve been taught to fear your entire life. You melt into it so prettily, accepting your damnation with parted lips and eager eyes. A wanton moan gets caught in your throat when his hand slips further up your skirt.

No panties–in a place of worship, no less. He should bend you over his knee for this transgression, make sure you understand how filthy you are. But there’s hardly time for that now, not when he’s even more desperate than you are. And you are desperate–dripping down his fingers into the palm of his hand as your teeth leave perfect little indents in the plush skin of your bottom lip.

His free hand grips your chin firmly, guiding your eyes to his. He wants to see your depravity, the flickering embers of lust in your eyes as you come on his fingers and cry out for salvation from the all-consuming pleasure.

“Oh my God–”

His hand tightens around your jaw just the slightest bit in warning. “No, baby. You moan my name when I’m touchin’ you.”

And you do–thighs trembling, eyes watering, you cry out his name like a prayer as your cunt pulses and squeezes around his willing fingers.

There’s an unpracticed tremble to your hand as you reach to work open his belt, and it makes his cock throb under the confining material of his jeans.

You want every inch of his skin pressed against yours, so desperate for it that you’re nearly in tears when he pulls your fingers away from the buttons on his shirt. He’s not foolish–no one steps foot into this place during the week, but he knows better than to tempt God’s sense of humor. This has to be quick and contained, and you know it too; you picked your little skirt for exactly that reason.

He catches a glimpse of your glistening need as you settle over his thighs, and once again he battles to resist temptation. He whispers in your ear as you settle your chest against his and grind that fluttering, sensitive cunt along his length–promises himself more than you, really, that he’ll bury his face in your folds and drink from you next time. Next time–the promise makes you clench impossibly hard around nothing.

His eyes have never been quite as heavy as they are when you start to sink that dripping heat down his cock. Head tipped back, throat exposed, completely at your mercy. He has to force himself to look up at you–to worship the goddess enshrined on his altar, all his for the taking.

You bite into your lip nearly hard enough to draw blood as your hips settle against his, completely overwhelmed by the burning stretch of his size. He’s a challenge, certainly, but one that you are determined to overcome.

“Easy, baby girl,” he grumbles as you start to rock against him before you’re truly accommodated. His hands rest heavy on your hips–not anchoring, but encouraging. As wrong–as depraved–as this may be, he wants you to enjoy it without pain. “That’s right, nice and slow.”

It doesn’t stay that way, though; the desperation mounts to a boiling point until you’re bouncing fervently in his lap. It’s delicious, the way the thick head of him drags against something deep and sensitive within you. He guides you when your thighs start to burn, grip tightening enough to leave forbidden bruises in the soft flesh of your hips. His mouth presses to yours, breathing the oxygen straight from your lungs as he presses his hips up. There’s nothing you can do but take it, pliant in his hold, head rolling back to accommodate the wet drag of his mouth and the tickling scratch of his beard against your throat.

He feels it before you do–a subtle flutter as your cunt tries sucking him in even deeper. And maybe, if he was a good man, he’d lean away from it and have mercy on you. But he’s not a good man–he’s a greedy, wanton, desperate man. He angles his hips and thrusts as hard as he can, shoving you into your release with force.

You overflow with it; gushing over him like a flood, staining his hastily pushed down jeans and the floorboards beneath.

He pushes you onto your back like you’re weightless, adrenaline coursing as he starts to slam into you. It’s not polite or sweet or loving–he fucks into you and empties himself like an animal. He growls deep in his throat as his cock pulses within you, instructing you to “take it, baby girl” as if you’d consider anything less.

You don’t know where your release ends and his begins. All you know is his weight on top of you, his mouth on your jaw, the collective breathless pants that fill the room as you both come down together.

You’re not sure how long it is before he pulls out of your warmth with an actual whine, breath heavy against your neck where his face is so comfortably nestled.

And you start to laugh, because you wish you’d worn panties after all–you don’t know how you’re going to get home with the mess of cum that’s dripping down the curve of your ass.

He even chuckles with you, until he tears his eyes away from your blissed face and sees the cross hanging heavy on the far wall.

“Th-that…” he gulps. “That can’t happen again.”

“It can,” you assure him, and he supposes you’re right.

You keep your head down and your eyes to yourself on Sunday, even as you spot the barely-noticeable stain on the hardwood floor next to the newly-repaired pew on the right side of the aisle. It’s so faint that no one would notice it unless they were looking for it, but it’s glaringly obvious to you. You should be ashamed; you should be begging for forgiveness. But then you meet Joel’s watchful eyes, and the shame washes away. How can you feel guilty over an act of worship?

THE END

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#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller one shot #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us smut #the last of us one shot #joel tlou #cece writes

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buggachat · 10 months

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the FUNNIEST thing by far about the miraculous movie is that, despite spending a lot of its time/songs on the premise of "no, marinette! believe in yourself! you CAN do it! you SHOULD be ladybug! you should acknowledge the power you have!" etc etc, the resolution of the conflict of the movie actually only hinges on "Chat Noir Loses". Like, as long as Chat Noir loses, Hawkmoth gives up doing evil things and sees the error of his ways. This is how the movie is resolved. Ladybug, as Chat Noir's partner who helps Chat Noir to Not Lose, actively pushes back the resolution of the movie. If Ladybug never showed up and Chat Noir was left to fight Gargoyle alone, he probably would've lost, and then Hawkmoth would've seen his identity and stopped what he was doing, and the entire movie could've been resolved in only one akuma and with less destruction of Paris. Every akuma battle thereafter only exists because Ladybug showed up to the last, and all of them leave destruction in their wake because she doesn't even cast miraculous ladybug on any battle except the final one. Ladybug's presence in the movie actually actively harms Paris. Even in the final scene, Marinette is battered and beaten and detransformed on the ground, and Tikki encourages her "come on, Marinette! you can stall the resolution just a little bit longer!" and then Marinette tackles Chat Noir away from Hawkmoth in a scene I literally forgot happened until my rewatch because it doesn't impact the story at all beyond stalling the resolution another 10 seconds. Marinette was right and should've just stayed home, actually. In this essay I will,

#ml movie spoilers #ml movie #ml awakening spoilers #ml awakening #i promised myself i would stop posting takes about the movie because overall i think it's a fun bit of side content and i #don't want to come across as some hater or anything or hurt people's enjoyment of it #but i had to point this out because i legitimately do think it's really really funny and i cant stop thinking about it

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aphroditelovesu · 6 months

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Yandere Team Black Headcanons (Platonic)

''There is no war so hateful to the gods as a war between kin, and no war as bloody as a war between dragons.'' — Rhaenys Targaryen, the Queen Who Never Was.

❝ 🐉 — lady l: I needed to get this out of my mind, so here it is. It's more focused on the Black Council, so only they appear, but if anyone wants, I can do it with the other allies of the Blacks. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistake! 🖤❤️

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, mention of murder, unhealthy platonic relationships, messy writing.

❝🐉 pairing: yandere!team black x gender neutral!reader.

After the death of King Viserys I Targaryen, the Seven Kingdoms was divided into two factions. The Greens, who supported the succession of Aegon II Targaryen, son of Queen Alicent Hightower and Viserys, and there were the Blacks, who supported the succession of Rhaenyra Targaryen, the first woman to be chosen as heir to the Iron Throne and the legal heir of Viserys. There were these two sides to the war and you were a supporter of the Blacks, of Rhaenyra.

Your family had long ago sworn loyalty to Rhaenyra and you would not dishonor that oath. You would fight alongside the Blacks and follow the Queen to the death if necessary. You would protect her and defend her honor until your last breath. It was this oath that you swore and it was what brought you to meet her face-to-face, along with the other members of her family who supported her.

Rhaenyra received your support with great enthusiasm and affection, smiling at you and hugging you, saying how much it meant to know that you, and your family, stayed true to their oath. She hugged you tightly, and you melted into the Black Queen's tight embrace.

She was so kind, just like the stories said. You were proud to call her the Queen. Rhaenyra touched your cheeks warmly and introduced you to the rest of her supporters, her family. Rhaenyra quickly became attached to you, developing her obsession and becoming possessive and protective. She doesn't want anything to hurt you. She had already lost too much.

You were introduced to Daemon Targaryen first, Rhaenyra's husband and prince consort. He was a little skeptical of you at first, looking strangely like he was sizing you up and your intentions. Which in fact, he was doing. After deciding you weren't a threat, Daemon was more open and welcomed you.

He wasn't the kind of person you wanted to mess with. Always so cruel and using violence to resolve conflicts, Daemon is not easy to deal with. But you can deal with him in the right way, being his listener and eventually his friend. Someone he can truly trust. Very possessive and short-tempered, Daemon doesn't hesitate to claim you for himself and will burn alive anyone who says anything about it.

Rhaenys Targaryen, the Queen Who Never Was, was all the stories said. Stormy yet with a gentleness and grace you had never seen before. She was courteous and distant at first, as you would expect a princess to be. But as she got to know you, the more Rhaenys opened up and trusted you.

She is very protective of you, Rhaenys does not want you to fight, preferring you to become part of the council and act solely as a strategist. The war was very dangerous and she wasn't going to risk your life. Not when she already liked you so much and had already lost her two beloved children.

Corlys Velaryon became close to you quickly. You met him when he was still in bed, injured. Rhaenys was the one who introduced you to him and he quickly warmed up to you. He smiled in gratitude every time you helped him feed or get out of bed. His eyes seemed to always follow you, with affection shining in them.

He could see what his wife saw in you. Something new, something lasting. When he had doubts about whether or not he should join the Blacks, you convinced him and he found himself admiring you even more for your loyalty. Corlys knew he had to protect you. You were so pure for this world and the war that was to come. He couldn't let something bad happen to you.

Jacaerys Velaryon took a liking to you at first sight, warming up to you and becoming the linchpin of his mother and brothers' obsession with you. He saw a lot of himself in you for some reason and enjoyed your company immensely. Jace is always asking for your approval, trying to please you in any way.

He is quite protective and this only intensified after the deaths of people dear to him. Jacaerys enjoys reading to you and would love to teach you High Valyrian if you wish. When he becomes King, he would love to name you his Hand.

Lucerys Velaryon became especially close to you after you arrived in Dragonstone. Not just because you supported his family, but because you were you. So kind and so loyal, he was immediately attracted to you and started following you like a baby duck. Luke loves spending time with you, reading, or when you watch him train with swords. Just your presence is enough.

He is very possessive and clingy towards you, constantly wanting your attention and approval. Lucerys does his best to be with you, clinging to your arms, as if he were hiding behind you.

Joffrey Velaryon is the baby of the Velaryon family, so young and unaware of what is happening. He usually stays close to you, holding your hand and looking at you with curiosity and affection. It's common to see him following you through the hallways of Dragonstone.

Although young, Joffrey is very intelligent and is possessive of your attention, often fighting with his brothers for it. He wants you with him all the time, close and protecting him.

Baela Targaryen is fearless and a free spirit, much like her father. She approached you firmly and quickly, encouraged by her grandmother and father. She really liked you and you quickly became friends with you.

She is quite demanding when it comes to you, Baela has a tendency to get angry quickly but she never stays with you. She likes it and is very patient and calm, smiling charmingly and holding your hand affectionately. Quite possessive, she will often get into fights to defend you.

Rhaena Targaryen is more delicate and calm than her older sister, all gentle and sweet. She is more courteous and also less demanding, taking whatever she can get and inwardly happy when you approach her of your own free will.

She's more subtle in her obsession, watching you from the corners of her eyes and smiling sweetly when she thinks no one is looking. Rhaena takes every opportunity to be close to you. She loves dancing and would be honored if you wanted to dance with her.

The Blacks cared deeply about you. Not just the Targaryen and Velaryon family, but others as well. The Lords and knights also created their own obsession with you and they knew they must protect you at any cost. Especially when you were the pillar of that faction.

They will go against anyone who dares to hurt you. Ready to destroy and burn, the Targaryens have no qualms about getting rid of anyone who threatens your life. The Velaryon fleets are at your disposal at any time and always ready to protect you.

They would only become even more suffocating after Lucerys' death. They had already lost him, they couldn't lose you. There's no way you can leave Dragonstone alone. Always accompanied by one of them or of guards.

You have become important to them. Important to the Black Queen and her allies. You have become their obsession. They would rather raze King's Landing, and burn the Iron Throne than lose you.

625 notes · View notes

merakiui · 8 months

Text

long-distance love.

yandere!azul ashengrotto x (gender neutral) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, nsfw, phone sex, obsession, power imbalance, kidnapping, implied (cyber)stalking, non-con touching, characters written as 18+ note - sea witch, the magicord mod you've had intimate online relations with, is closer than you thought.

Sea Witch is a busy man.

His weekly schedules are almost always packed to bursting, each event meticulously arranged into open slots as if aiming to form a perfect puzzle. Times never conflict; he’s particular about how he spends his hours, and very rarely does he allow himself a break. It has always been work, work, work. He’s one of the city’s most affluent, eligible bachelors and yet he’s married to his business. Those who lust after him think it’s a wasteful shame. Azul finds it to be a relief far greater than any he’s ever known. He will never compromise the enterprise he’s built from the ground up just because of some flimsy, fickle feelings.

Originally, he had no interest in Magicord, a messaging platform that grants people from all over the world the chance to congregate on specific servers for mutual interests like anime and gaming. He only downloaded it because Idia Shroud, a fellow friend and business partner, lived and breathed the app, his online presence so profound it was almost like a second home. He’d swipe away notifications from his actual messaging app, too busy in a voice call with his group of dungeon raiders to bother answering important calls.

So he resolved to get on Idia’s level in hopes of improving communication. Although Idia’s level, as Azul often noted, was not exactly a place he wanted to be. While Magicord could be used for business purposes, that wasn’t what drew people in. Azul of all people knew very well which target audiences were being reached with apps like Magicord, and he was not one of them.

“To think I’d stoop as low as this,” Azul had once groused over a phone call with Idia, who was giving him quite a lengthy, not-very-needed-but-also-very-much-needed rundown on Magicord’s inner workings. “I hardly have time to play games, let alone socialize on this…app.”

“Aren’t you always going on about how adaptable you are?” Idia sniped back, not in the mood for normie criticism. The sound of clacking keys could be heard on his end. “And you’re the one who asked. Kinda defeats the purpose of learning if you’re just gonna complain.”

Azul rolled his eyes. “I fail to see the logic in downloading another app just to ensure my messages reach you. Honestly, you ought to start checking your email. Or, at the very least, go through your missed call and text logs.”

Alas, Idia had been stubbornly adamant about his preferences and so, much to his displeasure, Azul was forced to undergo something of a Magicord Training Camp until he emerged a pro. And being a pro meant knowing how to navigate his own profile and toggle between that and Idia’s, which was really the only tip he needed because that was all he’d use the app for.

But Azul has always had an innate itch for wanting to know something from top to bottom, inside-out, and the idea of not knowing every little detail about Magicord drove him insane. If there was an opportunity he could capitalize on, why should he risk squandering it with his elementary-level knowledge? So he spent his rare slivers of free time playing around in there, creating a server and wondering who could ever become so attached to an app when the world beyond the screen was filled with just as many, if not more, social encounters.

His introverted side understood the appeal. In fact, he loved the idea of hiding behind a manufactured persona online. He didn’t have to be Azul Ashengrotto on Magicord. Rather, he could rid himself of his dislikable traits and become an entity—an idea or a concept—rather than a flawed man who others might scrutinize ruthlessly.

So he became Sea Witch, and within just a week he’d constructed quite the comfortable server. The invite link was spread throughout the various branches of Mostro. It would provide employees with an online sanctuary, where they could easily connect should doing so in person prove complicated (as had been the case regarding Idia, which was the sole reason he’d even poured so much time into this effort). Most of all, it gave Azul the chance to keep watch from afar, silently sitting in wait and curating a collection of mostly unimportant intel. Mere gossip, if anything.

But gossip is just as good as the next scandal. He likes to be prepared, a razored edge on all sides.

As far as the company was concerned, no one knew who this Sea Witch character was and no one knew who spread the link. And as far as individual employees knew, this was likely just some overworked intern’s labor of love—a well-crafted server intended to function as a digital gathering place for those exhausted after a long day. And that was mostly true, but all of the potential blackmail he could gather, the information he could glean, and even the people he could keep a closer eye on in an online setting—all of that paled in comparison to the real prize he’d attained. This was of great importance. It was something that altered the course of his life, opened his eyes to the brilliant beauty of a first love.

It was there in that undersea-themed haven where he met you, the one who would add flavorful spice to the once bland, boring meal that was his life. And just after a few weeks of simple, cordial conversation, he realized a single taste of your kind companionship wouldn’t be enough to sate him.

Greedy to a fault, Azul wanted you in your entirety.

Which brings him to the present, where he’s currently leaning back into the expensive leather of his driver’s seat. He’s parked on a silent strip of road, in a more residential part of the city. It’s not very busy here, and his windows are tinted to avoid immediate recognition. Rush hour won’t hit until later, and he’s not due for any conferences. He has time. Plenty of it to spare on this little excursion.

“I wanna meet you, Sea Witch,” you admit, nearly whining through the phone. “Where’re you from? Maybe we’re in the same area.”

Azul smiles at your impatience. You just can’t get enough of him, can you?

Every weekend, you hop into a VC with him and chat for hours on end. At first he simply provided a listening ear when you wished to rant through text or call. You’d voice all sorts of complaints. Azul filed them away in the event that they might be useful in the future, initially intending to use such information to ruin you should you prove to be someone worth ruining. But the more he spent listening and scrawling notes on blank paper, the more he realized you were just overworked and struggling financially.

Upon making these connections and learning all sorts of facts from you regarding your life beyond Magicord, he felt compelled to help. Out of the goodness of his heart, of course, ever the benevolent saint. And you weren’t complaining when he offered to pay you for your time. In exchange for two hours of conversation, he’d provide you with the funds you needed to afford your necessities.

Somehow, throughout many months of give and take—with his giving being on the jaw-droppingly exorbitant side, always one to top his own ludicrous generosity—your hours-long conversations would sink beneath the surface of mere companionship. It was one-sided intimacy. Azul was careful with what he shared, building a mostly secretive profile for himself. He didn’t want to risk tarnishing your fondness for Sea Witch by sharing details that felt more like Azul and less like the effortlessly funny, charming, and eloquent Magicord mod you’d originally made contact with.

You didn’t seem to worry about compromising your own privacy, easily divulging a variety of fun tidbits about your life. You’d share the tiniest of details and he’d eat it up every time, hungering for more than just crumbs. That time you sent him a photo of the octopus macarons you’d bought from a local bakery because you were thinking of him? He remembers it well, and he’s constantly reminded of it when you text him about things you did over the weekend or hobbies you basked in. Sending photos of your houseplants, asking him for his opinion on clothes you were hoping to buy (which he was always more than willing to sponsor; all you needed to do was send the link and he’d purchase it), and even trusting him enough to fall asleep in the VC with him (arguably one of his favorite things about your unique relationship).

And he called it unique not because it was a bad sort of strange. Rather, it was unique in the refreshing sense. He’d never had an online friend before, let alone someone who would so willingly and readily indulge him. Granted, this willingness stemmed from the deal he’d cut with you and so you were really only doing these things for your own gain. But then so was he. It was a relationship built upon necessity. You needed money to survive, and he needed you.

So it was okay to fall into sleazy fantasies. It was all an act anyway, and it wasn’t like you judged him or his preferences. At least, not outright. If you did, it was silent. You were considerate and sweet; and you really did consider him a friend. Or so he hoped. If your casual conversations were any proof, it was obvious there was some sort of enjoyment and trust there.

Friendship or something more, he would have you. Whether that meant in the safety of his pocket, enclosed within his mobile phone forever, or in his penthouse, tucked away in his bedroom—he’d have you.

“I’m from a city, yes,” he answers, purposely cryptic.

“Obviously. Come onnn, Witchy. Don’t you wanna meet me, too?”

“I do, and one day we’ll meet. I promise.”

He listens to your irritated groan and his cock twitches in his slacks. Good god, your voice is a blessing—more heavenly than a cherubic choir.

“One day isn’t today, though.”

“Perhaps not.” He speaks to distract you from the rustling fabric of his pressed suit as his hand strays further. He spies his reflection in the rearview mirror, notes the flash in his irises. If only you were here, sitting beside him in the passenger seat. If only he could slide his own seat as far back as it would go, lie still and serene, and let you climb into his lap to spear yourself on his erection. Genuine leather be damned. He wanted your scent, your essence, your everything engraved into the very interior. “Humor me—if we were to meet right now, what would you like to do?”

“Mm, I’d want to get a good look at the man I’ve been talking to for nine months now.”

“Oh, you’ve kept track?”

“You haven’t?” Your laughter is fluffy and light—authentic amusement. “And I’d want to memorize your face so that I’ll never forget it.”

“May I ask why?”

“Because I’m so curious! You know what I look like—”

“Not entirely,” he interjects, sly and silver-tongued. “You’re a portrait half-finished in my mind. Not yet sketched to completion.”

And it’s true. From your shoulders down, you are a faceless beauty. He’s seen you nearly naked and fully clothed, in frills and lace, in latex and ribbons, in satin and chiffon. And yet, for all of the skin you’ve shown, he can’t place a face (or a real name, for that matter) to your body.

“Okay, poet,” you tease, and he’s already palming himself through the fine fabric of his trousers. “But I’ve still never seen an inch of you. You’ve never even sent a dick pic.”

“You’ve never asked.”

“Can I have one now?”

“Nice try.”

“Asshole!” you gripe, clicking your tongue in disappointment. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

“I’m aware,” he hums, squeezing himself, his breath coming out faint and haggard.

Yeah, he’s the worst. But then you’re the best at eliciting these sorts of reactions from him. The effect you have on him is utterly enthralling. Your ability to reduce him to a pliable puddle in just a few words—a mere few lighthearted, hollow insults—is truly impressive. He’d feel ashamed of himself if it wasn’t so good.

“You’re probably not even that big.”

“Would you like an exact measurement?”

“Wouldn’t it be better to measure it in person? See how many inches I could fit inside. I’ve been practicing with that dildo you sent me—the one shaped like a tentacle,” you purr, frustratingly coy. He wants your sinful lips wrapped around his dick right now—wants to fuck your throat sore and raw. Wants nothing more than to spill heavy and hot on your tongue so you’ll taste him for days. “If we met up, we could make that happen. Sooo, where’s my Sea Witch from? What part of the world?”

“Patience, angelfish.”

Even though he says so, he’s practically vibrating with excitement as he worries his bottom lip between his teeth. Soon. So soon. Very, very soon.

And then…

He imagines you rolling your eyes with your next words. “Fine, fine. I’ll be patient. But that’s not gonna stop me from fantasizing.”

“Well, what do you think I look like?”

“Now isn’t that a fun question?” You mull it over. He can tell because you mutter a variety of ums and hmms in that soft, sweet voice of yours. “I think you’re tall and you have a handsome face that matches your equally handsome voice.”

“Yeah?” he encourages, undoing the belt, button, and zip on his pants one-handed. “What else?”

Your giggles filter into his ears, seeming closer than they actually are due to the wireless earbuds he’s wearing. “From what I’ve gathered, you seem to have expensive tastes.”

Sitting in his lavish, one-of-a-kind, custom-made sports car, Azul thinks you would be correct.

“I wonder what gave it away…” he drawls, his voice creeping an octave lower.

He places his phone in the cup holder, reaching to open the glove compartment and retrieving a tiny bottle of lube. Squirting a scant amount on his palm, he fishes himself, throbbing and pathetically hard, out of his boxers. His slick hand is a warm, welcome embrace around his silky-smooth shaft. He sucks in a breath through grit teeth, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Mhm, I wonder. It’s not the fact that you told me I should just buy a designer bag for work when I asked for recommendations. And it’s certainly not your ability to get me lots of nice gifts as if it’s nothing. So maybe it’s just your excessive generosity that makes you seem so rich?”

“Sure, we’ll go with that.”

“Speaking of that, what do you do for a living?”

“Guess.”

“Okay, Mr. Mysterious… Um… Hm. I think you’re a pilot.”

The whiplash that assumption brings is so seismically jarring he thinks he might go flaccid. Gripping himself with renewed vigor, he slides his fist along his length, slow and perfunctory, picturing you under his desk, your mouth open wide to receive him…

“A pilot… Mm, no, not quite.”

“Aw. My second guess was gonna be a contract killer. They make lots of money.”

“You have quite the wild imagination, angelfish. Even if I was one, do you think I’d admit that to you?”

“Maybe,” you tease. He pictures your smirk as it twists your perfect, pretty lips into something wicked. “For the right price, yeah?”

“Oh? Do elaborate.”

Please. Please keep going. Don’t stop talking. I need to hear you, closer, louder, clearer… More.

“What sort of price would I have to pay to get Sea Witch to spill his secrets?” you muse, your voice a tantalizing curl of syllables, but he suspects you already know the answer to your hypothetical. “I can’t offer you money, so you’d have to settle for something a little more…physical.”

He shivers, nodding his agreement even though you can’t see it. “Physical’s good,” he mumbles, foregoing eloquence in favor of filth. “Much better than—mm—than money…”

“Yeah? All right. Let’s see… You’re well-off and you might or might not be a contract killer. Do you wear suits?”

“I do.”

“Ooh, so you’re one of those contract killers.”

Azul can’t help it; he laughs, the sound tumbling out in a breathy gasp. “I prefer looking nice at all times.”

Languidly, his hand continues its idle pumping. He cracks his eyes open to peer at the pre-cum beading at the tip.

“Even if you’re just going to get messy?”

“Explicate the situation that’s leading me to soil my clothes. Details, angelfish.”

“Well, if you’re a killer who wears suits, you wouldn’t like even the smallest stain. It ruins your image, but if it was me…” You pause, probably for effect, and it works. His back arches with anticipation, fingers closing tighter. “You’d make an exception.”

“I would,” he admits far too quickly. “Always.”

“So you really would out yourself as a killer if I spread my legs for you?”

“No, but I’d let you dirty my suits.”

“Good. They’ll look better on the floor anyway.”

His breath hitches. Fuck, your every word is a siren’s song, leading him deeper into mist-clouded waters. He’d keep you pinned on his cock all day if he could. Why should you continue to work your mundane job when you could spend your precious hours with him instead? He’ll be your job. Seven days a week, during each of the breaks he’ll pencil into his schedules, you can visit him and he can empty all of his stress into you. And you’ll take it because you’re such an obedient sweetheart for him, always so ready to please your master.

He prays you can’t hear the salacious squelch of skin on skin as he works himself towards the edge, but a nastier part of him wants you to listen in so you’ll be reminded that this is your fault. No one else can possibly make him this messy. No one else is capable of rendering him a clumsy, lovestruck fool. You’re probably well aware of these facts, having brought him to this same edge numerous times in the past. Sometimes you would reach that tipping point alongside him, your gasps and groans joining his in an obscene duet.

Neither of you decided upon today’s development, but he thinks—knows—you’re intentionally stringing him along. You want this as much as he does.

“So was I right? You’re totally a contract killer?”

“I’m a businessman, angelfish,” he corrects, a silly, drunken smile softening his jaw. You make him feel so stupid, so warm and fond.

“So basically the same thing. Just as ruthless, no?”

“Please, you wound me. I’m always kind.”

“Ah, so there are others who get this treatment? And I thought I was the only one…”

“You are. No one could ever compare to you.”

He intends to tack my love onto the sentence’s end, but he stops himself. You’re not his love. Not really. You’re his angelfish, sure, but that’s different. That’s just a pet name befitting the aquatic theme he masquerades behind. And you’re not really Azul’s. You’re Sea Witch’s.

It’s Sea Witch you know and love. Beyond that, Azul is just Azul. And he’s nothing like the ideal he’s cultivated on Magicord.

He sighs and forces himself out of the turbulent trenches of his withering self-esteem. Now is not the time to contemplate which version of himself you’d be more preferential to.

You’ll have no choice but to love the real him. Soon.

“Really? I feel so special.” Impressed, you whistle and add, “I’ve gotta make you feel special, too.”

“You already have—”

“Not inside the VC. Come on, Sea Witch, don’t you wanna meet me?”

“I do. I really do,” he babbles dumbly, grinding his thumb into his slit and smearing pre-cum. He grits his teeth and tamps down a colorful word. How he yearns for this to be your hand wrapped around his length, tugging him to that far-off finish line. “I want nothing more than to—t-than to see you, all of you, in person…”

“So what’s stopping you? I could do a lot more in person than I can over the phone.” He has a smart reply for that, but it sticks in his throat. Pitifully, like the rightful debauched mess he is, he groans, low and guttural. “Let me turn the question on you, Sea Witch. If we were to meet today, what would you like to do to me?”

So many things, he thinks, a litany of smutty imagery flickering through his head.

But Sea Witch is classy (most days) and today is one of those instances. Or at least he’s going to make an attempt, however weak it may be.

“Take you to dinner,” he mumbles, executing jerky, quick motions in a daze, his cock weeping for release. He throws his head back, peers up at the interior roof of his car, and inhales sharply. “Take you all over the city if it pleases… I’d spoil you with so much finery—dress you up and then tear every article off…”

“And then?”

“And—god, fuck—wanna be inside you, angelfish… So badly—need you so badly. I wanna feel you and kiss you and hold you.”

He’s unraveling, strings pulled taut and fraying to extremity. Azul bucks into his hand and imagines it’s you, tight and warm, a sweet, snug embrace. He opens and closes his mouth, intending to beg you for more, but all that slips out are the tiniest huffs and grunts. He’s so wrapped up in his own ardor that he almost misses your quiet pants, every breath squeezed out of you as if you’re struggling to withhold your gratuitous moans. And it’s deplorable, really, the way his ears prick at these muffled sounds, the way his cock stands rigidly at attention, the way he’s falling through fragments of filthy fantasies, each one so close and yet impossibly far.

“I want you, too,” you mewl, tone wavering between shameless thrill and some sort of seventh heaven.

He wonders what you’re using to pleasure yourself. Are your fingers, slick and curled, rubbing up against those perfect, pretty spots that have you seeing stars? Or are you using the toys he purchased for your enjoyment? Maybe you’re lowering yourself onto the dildo right now, gummy walls clenching around girthy silicone. And maybe you’re tugging at your nipples, massaging them between the pads of your fingers, or maybe you’ve swapped skin-to-skin for a bullet vibrator instead.

Maybe—just maybe—it’s the mere thought of him that sets your flesh aflame with an intoxicating desire.

“And I want you—” you gasp, and his mind travels to all of the risqué photos you’ve sent, each one saved in a password-protected album on his phone— “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything before. I want you to show me that no one else can compare to you. I want you to—mmh, hah—to hold me down in bed and fuck me until my legs are sore and I can’t walk.”

I will, he thinks, lashes fluttering on his cheekbones. He strokes himself quickly, chest heaving, tongue near-lolling out of his mouth as he pants like a hound in heat. I’ll do all of that and so much more. I’ll fuck every coherent thought out of your pretty head, keep you just smart enough to rely on me, turn you into the prettiest sea flower who’ll only blossom for me.

“I promise, angelfish. I promise I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted,” he vows, his nerves alight with lustful delight, “and you’ll never know misfortune again.”

“I—oh! I’m close, so close! Please, Sea Witch! Please don’t stop. Please fill me up and make me yours!”

The sheer vulgarity twined through amatory vehemence, coupled with his own hurried pace, has him tumbling down the slope, arousal peaking and spilling over in thick, creamy spurts. He has half a mind to catch his spend before it can ruin the pristine interior of his car, and he blinks down at the semen sullying his palm. Idly, he rubs his fingers together to test the viscosity, wondering how his fluids would look on your face, your stomach, your ass—or even pooling out of your hole in plentiful amounts.

That fantasy is enough to send blood rushing right back to his softening cock, and he wills those thoughts away with logic—complex calculations and the financial forecast for Mostro. There will be plenty of time to indulge in sexual cravings later. He reminds himself of this while he tamps down his zeal, his heart relaxing in his ribs as he sits with the slowly ebbing aftershocks of orgasm.

You seem to be doing much the same, for you’ve gone perfectly quiet.

“Everything all right, angelfish?” he whispers after a few minutes, his breath now evened out.

“Mm, yeah. All good over here. Messy, but good.”

“I’m comforted knowing we’re in the same boat.” He chuckles while fumbling to dig a cotton handkerchief from the depths of his suit jacket. He cleans the cum and residual lube from off his hands and dick before neatly tucking himself away. Soon, there will be no need for this charade. Soon, he can adore all of you from beyond the screen. “Angelfish, there’s something I’d like to tell you.”

“What’s up?” you murmur, your own voice settling into its usual cheery cadence. He suspects you’re just putting on an act to sound happier. That will change when you’re reunited in person because it will be real. Because there will be no point in pretending through the phone.

“Well…” Azul smiles, folds and unfolds the sodden handkerchief, and then straightens his posture. He should be on his way now. “Ah, it’s nothing. Never mind it. I’ll tell you later.”

“Whaaat? But you’ve made me so curious now. Don’t just leave me in suspense!”

“Then I’m afraid you’ll have to remain in that suspense indefinitely.”

“Ugh. You’re so annoying sometimes.”

He knows you don’t mean that.

“I’ll tell you soon, angelfish. Exercise a little patience. There’s no rush.”

“Easy for you to say. You know what it is.”

“That I do, yes.” He hums, considering his next words. “Would it help if I left you with a word of advice?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Everything.”

“Um. Okay, sure. Hit me. What’s your advice?”

Azul buckles himself in, starting his car via push button. It rumbles to life, smooth and steady. “Don’t fight so much, my dear.”

“Don’t what? Sea Witch, what are you talking—”

Your words are interrupted with a startled yelp. Azul listens to the struggle as if it’s a podcast enjoyed at sunrise. Things are toppled in the chaos; something shatters. He catches the beginnings of a blood-curdling shriek before it’s swiftly silenced. There’s more muffled scuffling before, eventually, absolute peace.

It’s broken by Floyd’s petulant whine. “Maaan, Shrimpy was so difficult. Thought you said they were easy, Azul.”

“Understandably so,” comes Jade’s astute reply. “We did catch them when they were most vulnerable.”

Floyd hums his agreement. “Y’know, Jade, Shrimpy’s kinda cute…”

“They are, aren’t they, Floyd?”

“Whatever you’re thinking, perish it right now,” Azul hisses, features twisting into something dark. “Keep your slimy mitts off of my angelfish.”

There’s an unsettling silence. Azul rolls his eyes. They’re fishing for a reaction he refuses to give.

“Clean up whatever mess you’ve made.” He takes his car out of park and eases into drive. “And don’t let anyone see you. It’ll be a hell of a pain if neighbors make unnecessary reports.”

“Yeah, yeah. Heard ya loud and clear.”

“Very well. Farewell for now.”

The call is cut. Azul grips the steering wheel, smug.

Soon waits for him on the horizon. He will not be a minute late.

You wake on a bed, in a spacious bedroom with exquisite floor-to-ceiling windows, many stories up in the clouds. A brightly lit cityscape sprawls beyond the confines of this room, illuminated with the deceptive shine of promise and success. At first it looks foreign. But then you recognize notable buildings, each standing tall and proud amidst the rest, and it occurs to you that you’re in a stranger’s home, in the heart of the big city.

The room itself is plainly colored; it reminds you of a hotel or a room you might find in a real estate catalogue. Perplexed, you sit up and take pause as your unfamiliar surroundings prove to be more frightful than your own confusion.

Pasted to the walls are various printed screenshots from Magicord, each one detailing a conversation of sorts. You stare at the wall behind you, the one in which the bed is currently pushed against, and peer closer at the contents of these messages.

They’re all from you.

Endearing terms you’ve called him in passing. Gentle insults. Lewd flirts. Vents and rants. Photos you’ve sent of very insignificant things—houseplants, meals, clothes. And then there are the photos of your body in skimpy lingerie and cosplay, all taped to the wall like this is some abstract museum of the digital you. The you who, despite being honest most of the time, took solace in the world of Magicord. The you who’d grown close with the mod from that whimsical ocean-themed server. The you who is now trapped, your ankle enclosed in a cuff. There’s a lead that only allows you to meander into the attached bathroom if you so please, and you suspect it’ll pull taut if you try to leave the room.

“What the fuck?” you mutter, your stomach twisting with disgust.

You look down at your clothes—you’re in someone’s collared shirt, intentionally designed to be oversized so that it drapes like a nightgown—and horror prickles your skin.

And then he arrives.

He’s dressed casually in black slacks and a simple white dress shirt, primly tucked in with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. You stare for a long moment, studying his features as his familiarity dawns. Your mouth falls open in a muted scream.

He smiles sweetly, stepping further into the amber glow from the bedside lamps. “It’s nice to formally meet you. I’m Sea Witch.”

But that’s not what’s shocking about this. The real shock—the thing that has your brain stumbling in an effort to put the pieces together before the picture can crumble—is far more jarring than the kidnapping and the captivity. You find your voice then, and before you can stop yourself the words are falling out in a hurry.

“CEO Ashengrotto?!”

Sea Witch—CEO Ashengrotto—stiffens, his brows furrowing immediately. He gives you a sharp, dangerous look. A look that seems to radiate one unspoken question: Where did you hear that name?

“You… You’re A-Azul Ashengrotto,” you continue, swallowing thick trepidation. “CEO of Mostro. You opened a new restaurant last year—Crave, right? And the menu features celebrity favorites—celebrities like Vil Schoenheit and Neige LeBlanche.”

He laughs his disbelief, carding a hand through soft, silvery locks. “How…do you know this?”

“I work there. You visited once with your secretary for quality checks. We even crossed paths.”

Azul gawks, realizes he’s gawking, and clears his throat. “I… I see. Well.” He inhales, holds his breath for three seconds, and exhales. “This makes things rather…awkward.”

“When you said businessman, I didn’t think… I mean, how was I supposed to know? Your voice sounds so different over call than it does in interviews.”

“Of course it does! I never use the same inflection for those things.”

This cannot be real, you think, watching him flounder anxiously. Azul Ashengrotto is Sea Witch. This whole time… Nine entire months… I was talking to the CEO—to the city’s most popular bachelor—and I didn’t even know it. They write articles about this guy! He’s all over the TV! How did I never realize?

And then a very mortifying thought worms its way in: Oh my God. We both know each other’s preferences. He saw so much of me—more than I’d ever want him to see—and I heard too many private things during our calls…

“Let’s just…” You rub circles into your temples to quell the incoming migraine. “Let’s never talk about this again. You can buy my silence and I’ll move on with my life. I’ll even forget all of…” You glance at the Magicord conversations stuck to the wall and then the chain binding your ankle. “All of this…stuff. We’ll agree to call it a misunderstanding and life will be good, yeah?”

The bargain doesn’t seem to reach him. He continues to stare at you, his eyes glazed with an emotion you can’t place. Whatever it is, it’s stormy and dark. You don’t like it, and you shrink away when he steps closer.

“All this time you were right under my nose…”

Azul climbs onto the bed with you, the mattress depressing under the additional weight. Framed by the hypnotic radiance of the skyscrapers climbing heavenward, he’s certainly earned his place in every celebrity gossip magazine you’ve ever read. Articles debating whether he’s secretly committed to a relationship. Articles theorizing what his life plans may have in store for him. Articles discussing whether he’ll ever get married, if he’ll remain single for the rest of his life, if he’ll ever open his heart to the many people who hope to earn his romantic affections.

No one knows it—how could they when he’s so tight-lipped with the paparazzi?—but you are the secret variable the articles have yet to discover. You are the covert partner, the one who has won his heart, the one who now sits shackled on his bed.

What sort of tabloid journalist could ever spin this story?

You scoot further up the bed, your back pressing against the ornately extravagant headboard. Your knees are pulled into your chest, a futile attempt at protection.

“All this time you were so close to me…” He marvels at this, his baby blue hues locked permanently on you. “And neither of us knew. I could’ve had you much sooner had I just realized…”

You blink at him, your heart sinking with every passing second. “Mr. Ashengrotto, what do you mean by that?”

A pout tugs at perfect, pretty lips. “Why so formal, angelfish? We’re much closer than that, surely.” His hands settle upon your knees, gently pulling them apart. Your blood curdles with fear. “There’s no need to be so tense. It’s only me.”

“No… Please wait. Hold on!”

“Hm? If I’m not mistaken, this is what you want. You were rather vocal about your desires. You’ve always been. So why are you looking at me like that? I’m not scary, am I?”

You squeeze your eyes shut. “Please let me go…”

He clicks his tongue in disapproval, his tone patient despite the subject. “You know I can’t do that.”

“But you… You kidnapped me! Y-You had those guys hiding in my home and they…” You shake your head, unable to describe the sheer terror that had overwhelmed you when those creepy twins descended. Hopeless, you open your eyes to give him your most despairing look. Tears brim in your eyes, threatening to fall at the slightest prodding.

“Oh, my dear, did they scare you? They’re brutes who know nothing of how to treat a person with adequate care. You needn’t worry anymore. I’m here for you.” He cups your face in a fond hold, thumb rubbing soothing circles into your cheek. “Don’t cry, angelfish. You’re in good hands—my hands. And have they not been the most generous?”

“You’re crazy. Obsessed! How can you think any of this is okay? Look around at the walls! You’ve pasted our conversations everywhere—they’re practically the wallpaper!”

“What of it?” His hand slides down to grip your chin, forcing you to meet him at eye level. “I love you. I have for months now. And if those are the ways you choose to classify my care, so be it.”

Tear trails trace down your face. He leans in to kiss the rivers away, but they morph into the saltiest of seas.

“You may not approve of my affections right this very moment. You may hate me, think I’m monstrous, a culmination of all things foul, but you will love me. In due time, my dear. And when you do, the world will open and the chain will come off and you will know freedom under my roof.”

He has the gall to worship you with a loving smile. It poisons you with newly brewing abhorrence.

“So cry your heart out. Scream and kick up a fit. Do what you must. And when the floods subside, we can learn to love one another. Both at our best and our worst, within and beyond Magicord.”

#yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere azul ashengrotto x reader #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere azul #yandere azul x reader #n/sfw

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redhoodinternaldialectical · 6 months

Text

It's quite important to me that Jason and Bruce's conflict is not a misunderstanding.

I truly believe that if each of them had perfect omniscient knowledge of every detail of what happened surrounding Jason's death, not only would they still have conflict, but they would still have the SAME conflict. Neither the question nor the answer of Under the Red Hood's climax would change.

Sheila's betrayal is often known about in canon (frankly there is no way anyone but Jason should know; it is deeply unclear to me why comics allow others to be aware of this) and it does nothing to change anything.

Bruce's one off attempt to kill the Joker at most changes a few lines during Jason's plea to let him kill him ("Please! I know you wanted to, I know you tried to once, what changed? Did you forget about me? Did you stop caring? Did you fucking well forgive?! You for whom vengeance is your only life?")

Learning about the people Jason saved doesn't do much to assuage Bruce's horror at what Jason has become ("Each life is precious, unique, irreplaceable. It does not absolve him.")

Learning exactly what was done to mourn him modifies the depth and force of Jason's fury some ("You buried and destroyed all trace of me, the actual person, didn't even try to tell Dick, and then blamed my death on my own irresponsibility?!") But otherwise does very little.

Talia's involvement being revealed does nothing, because frankly she didn't do much of anything except stall this confrontation and give him a knife. It's a really cool knife, granted, but it sure as fuck didn't convince Jason this needed to happen!

The exact details of Tim's induction into the role have the largest effect - on an issue that is utterly tertiary to his main conflict with Bruce ("Oh wow, cool, great, the new kid you got to emotionally support you actually volunteered, and has parents so his entire well-being doesn't hinge on your approval. Congrats on approaching the bare fucking minimum! Now, wouldn't you agree that you have a duty to protect him by taking care of the murderer who killed me?! Instead of fucking demanding that he be good enough not to get killed?!")

I have a whole damn post on the can of worms Jason understanding the events of War Games would open! ("YOU LET ANOTHER ONE OF US DIE WHILE I WAS GONE?!?")

I am convinced that the only ways in which their conflict becomes less intense is through a misunderstanding.

And I like it that way. I'm really, really glad it's not a misunderstanding, and that it can't be resolved through better communication. Their issues are real and meaningful and cannot be swept away without one actually conceding to the other's demands.

#jason todd #got big thoughts today #damian's tomfoolery #bruce wayne

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vikkirosko · 6 months

Note

Hello. Since you're writing for Hazbin Hotel, how about Husk, Alastor, Valentino and Sir Pentious with S/O, who's way too determined for their own good? Like, even when it's obvious that S/O should cut their losses and retreat, they instead will try and try again.

Headcanons Excessive determination

📻 Alastor x Reader 🎙

Alastor often witnessed fights in which you participated. You fought a lot and quite often you fought until your opponents gave up or ran away. You were overly determined and it didn't seem like it should have been a problem, but in fact it really was a problem

You were ready to fight even if your opponents outnumbered you and were armed. Alastor rarely interfered in your fights, watching you continue to fight with confidence. Quite often you got injured because of this, but even that couldn't break your resolve

When Alastor saw that you had absolutely no chance of winning, he intervened. He didn't even need to get into a fight to do that, the only thing he needed to do was approach. The sight of him alone scared most of the inhabitants of Hell. At times like this, you told him that you could have handled it on your own. He just smiled at you and agreed with you, but he wasn't going to leave you if you could die because of your determination and stubbornness

Alastor was amused to watch how your determination made your life difficult. However, when he saw that you were about to do something that was obviously too dangerous, he stopped you. He didn't need to convince you not to do it for a long time, because under his pressure your resolve was cracking

🃏 Husk x Reader 🥃

Husk has known you for a long time and knew what kind of person you were. You were overly determined. You were not afraid of fights and often became a participant in them, even if your opponents outnumbered or outgunned you. You simply didn't pay attention to it, confident of your victory. However, you didn't always come out of fights unscathed

Every time you came to him wounded after fights, he would loudly scold you, telling you to think with your head when you fight. He was angry that you were so careless about your own safety and your own health. Even though he didn't tell you, he was worried that after another fight like this, you might not come back

When you returned wounded late, he would come out from behind the bar and treat your wounds without ceasing to grumble. He felt calmer when you came back, because you were alive. He told you every time to be careful and not to continue fighting if the chances of winning were small. Husk knew that you probably wouldn't listen to him, but he told you about it anyway

Husk was well aware that your excessive determination was a problem, even though you didn't think it was. Husk could only hope that you would finally begin to rationalize your chances and strengths, and your excessive determination would not cause your second death

💞 Valentino x Reader 🚬

It was the first time Valentino heard about you from friends. They talked about you as a determined person, but it was only through personal acquaintance that he found out that your determination could sometimes go to your own detriment. This was especially understandable when you became part of a conflict

He witnessed one of these conflicts. You fought alone against several bandits with whom you did not share something. There were more of them and they were better armed than you, but you didn't care about that yourself. You were ready to keep fighting even if it meant you could get hurt yourself

Several times he watched as his subordinates treated your wounds that you received after another fight. You claimed you were fine, but Valentino wouldn't let his subordinates stop treating your wounds. He saw perfectly well the state you were in and wasn't going to let your excessive determination hurt you

He began to send several of his people with you more often so that you would not get into trouble. You were against it, but Valentino didn't ask for your opinion on the matter. He liked you and he didn't want you to get hurt because you always relied on yourself, even when the difference in strength was obvious

🐍Sir Pentious x Reader 🎩

For a long time, you have been not only a partner for Sir Pentious, but also a partner in his attempts to gain more power. You were always the first to rush into battle and at first he was delighted with your determination, until he realized that very often it hurts you more than it helps

The realization of this came to him after several fights in which you participated. Every time you fought like you didn't feel any pain and risked yourself even if you were outnumbered. Sir Pentious saw you fight against several sinners who, unlike you, were well armed, but you did not even think to retreat, confident that you could win

Every time after such fights, he was busy treating your wounds. Even with his help, you couldn't avoid getting hurt, but you didn't get upset about it. He asked you to be careful, but you rarely listened to him, which is why you returned, although pleased with your victory, but wounded again

Pentious knew that your determination was too strong, but there wasn't much he could do. The only thing he could really do was try to be close to you and, if necessary, come to your aid so that you would not die, because even in Hell it was possible to die

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #Hazbin Hotel headcanons #Alastor #Alastor x Reader #Husk #Husk x Reader #Valentino #Valentino x Reader #Sir Pentious #Sir Pentious x Reader

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celaenacc · 1 year

Photo

CDD ~ Fresh Start Styled Look

If you’re like me, the first thing you do in CAS is clear everything off the sim for a nice fresh canvas. This custom styled look (when coupled with Mizore’s hider mod) is intended to make that take as few steps as possible every time.

Download and info below the cut for future updates

Item Details:

Base Game Compatible

Toddler Infant - Elder; Masc & Fem frames (Added infant support on June 16, 2023; please redownload)

1 Variant (per frame)

Custom thumbnails

Needs @mizoreyukii’s Styled Looks Hider to truly be worth it. If you’re overly attached to EA’s styled looks, this cc probably isn’t for you.

Removes all accessories, clothing, shoes, makeup, skin details (excluding acne and scars), tattoos, facial hair and hair (changes color to dark brown for adultFem + children, blonde for AdultMasc, red for toddlers for all of them now I believe (I can’t remember tbh 😅 - if anyone knows how to remove the hair without changing the color, please hmu)

Does not change teeth, eyebrows, eye color, acne and scars (I couldn’t get it to remove these last 2 categories)

Tagged for all outfit categories

Added overrides (June 16, 2023) for shoes/bare feet and masc frame nude tops to resolve the look not applying to those categories after one of the recent patches. If you want to use an alternate override from someone else and it isn’t compatible automatically, (only do this if it’s not working otherwise) open your desired alternative in Sims4Studio, navigate to the warehouse tab, tick the setting box for “ShowInUI”, and save the file. (Edit June 6/20) I’ve been informed by @asixteenthrose that even with changing your desired override to have the showinui checked, you still need my overrides for the styled looks for some reason, and the desired override can’t be in a subfolder/must be in main mods folder.

Added “Stripped Start” (June 16, 2023) which affects the accessories, makeup, facial hair, clothing, and shoes, but does not affect hair, body hair, skin details, or tattoos. You can have both Fresh Start and Stripped Start in your folder at the same time or not; they should not conflict with nor do they depend on each other.

Downloads:

> SFS < (Current Version is a zip)

> Google Drive < (Current Version is a zip)

Needs: > Hider Mod for EA Looks < (by MizoreYukii)

Notes:

There is no way I would have been able to figure out this project without MizoreYukii’s How to Make Custom Styled Looks tutorial, so huge thank you to her.

This look is mainly for simmers who want nothing on their sim when they start in CAS. If there is enough demand for a version that keeps existing tattoos, skin details, and maybe hair; I might make that as a v2 down the road. After receiving nonny asks, I went ahead and added a version like this while updating the original.

I timed myself clearing every outfit category for a new sim using just this look as fast as I could, and it only took 15 seconds total.

I have added patch numbers to the files in case someone needs the outdated version.

Kijiko eyebrow texture defaults cause the fem frame teen-elder not to show Fresh Start.

#ts4cc #s4cc #sims4cc #sims4cas #sims4mods #sims4casmods #mycc

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bunniekittiee · 8 months

Text

Bi-Han x Fem. Reader

Bi-Han headcanons (idc if it’s ooc) because I cannot stand the characterization that people have created for him. Like he is not a crazy aggressive dominant man like seriously?? These are teeth-rotting soft so please enjoy. SFW and NSFW!

SFW-

Bi-Han may have a very rough exterior, and it was definitely hard to break the ice (haha).

But his wife is his life.

He adores you, and he loves you so very much.

He may have a difficult time trying to communicate this as he is not one for being ‘lovey dovey’ like Kuai Liang, but that does not mean he doesn’t try his very best.

Gifts, he loves giving you gifts. Sometimes they’re simple like flowers, sometimes they are extravagant.

Either way, he loves to see your smile when he gives you a gift, so it is a reward for him.

However, Bi-Han does have his moments where he can be a little rude.

If he is stressed from the Lin Kuei or feels as if he does not have the energy he should, he can be a little snappy.

He will never hurt you, it would wreck his soul if he hurt you physically.

He may hurt your feelings, but he doesn’t mean to do it on purpose. He can be a little blunt sometimes when he is in a mood.

So after he recovers from his mood, he will seek you out and apologize for his behavior. Yes, he will probably have a gift with him.

He does not like fighting with you. He feels that it is a waste of time, and also he hates to see you upset.

Absolutely loathes going to bed angry. He can be a bit of an overthinker.

If you both got into an argument that was not resolved and he goes to bed moody, he has fleeting thoughts of your possible demise if he went to bed without apologizing or discussing it further.

What if something happened and you died without knowing how much he loved you and how he was sorry? It seriously messes with Bi-Han.

Anything can happen, and he understands that.

So if he can, he will do his very best to make sure you resolve conflict before going to sleep.

Nicknames are: my wife, beloved, my dearest, firefly.

Firefly is definitely a unique one, but it is referencing the time you both watched the fireflies light up in the night around you both.

It was romantic, and your eyes were gleaming so bright, Bi-Han’s chest tightened and his heart yearned for your love.

“My firefly, for you light up my world in ways you do not understand.” He wrote one day to you. “My world will never go dark with you in it.”

He can have a hard time expressing his feelings with words as he has many layers to him, so sometimes he feels better writing it to you.

But that doesn’t mean Bi-Han cannot tell you sweet words.

He misses you very often, especially if it’s been quite some time since he has seen you. He is always thinking about you.

Sometimes he wished he could have a little less responsibilities as Grandmaster so he could spend more time with you.

NSFW-

He does not like to use his powers on you in the bedroom.

It is different if he slightly changes his body temperature, but full on using them, that is forbidden.

Bi-Han would suffer an eternity if he hurt you, so it is a huge no-no to him.

He can be dominant, but it is more so because he is a powerful leader.

However, he loves it when you take control as well. Again, he is the Grandmaster and sometimes he just wants you to take the wheel.

Does not like degradation. He loves you deeply, and he cannot stand to call you names or being so cruel.

Expect it to be very passionate and loving. You are Bi-Han’s world, and he likes to take his time.

Loves cuddling after.

Breathing in your scent makes him feel less stressed and he enjoys your body warmth.

Any scars, stretch marks, or marks, Bi-Han kisses.

He loves every part of you, and he makes it very known.

Bi-Han knows that your essence is sacred, so he takes sex very seriously.

He does not joke around during it (come to think of it, i dont think he jokes around ever).

He does not like to have angry sex, he thinks it does not accomplish much.

And he’s especially worried if he is too angry he will hurt you in a way.

The Grandmaster is traditional in many ways, so he does not speak of your sex life, let alone your lives together, to others.

He expects you to hold the same respect for your relationship.

Bi-Han is not one for kinky sex. He finds it difficult to enjoy the thought of it, and he personally hates to see you in certain scenarios that remind him of his anxieties.

If you do not feel up for sex, he will not pressure you. He will either take care of himself or fight the urge.

You are precious to him, he would rather die before making you do something you don’t want to do.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mk1 #mk1 2023 #mk bi han #mk sub zero #mortal kombat headcanons #sub zero x reader #bi han x reader #sub zero #mortal kombat smut #bi han headcanon

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foresdxw · 2 years

Text

enhypen; how they’re protective over you

ot7 x reader | fluff/comfort | how they’re protective over you | tw: implied past sexual harassment, some violence

heeseung;

heeseung is always incredibly aware of your sensitivity and emotional state

so his protectiveness mostly comes in the form of protecting your happiness and joy

if he knows that somebody who’s judgmental of you or gives you anxiety is around, he’ll immediately try to distract you

he’ll make you face him; he’ll put a finger under your chin and make a silly face or crack a stupid joke, and you’ll be so entertained (or confused) by his antics that you won’t even notice the girl who hates you just walked in the room

“what are you doing? there’s people…” you breathed as heeseung held your chin, his face far too close to yours considering the fact that you were sitting with him on the set of a photo shoot where several other people were working

in reality, as soon as heeseung noticed the makeup artist who insulted you to your face, he instantly remembered how she made you cry last week and couldn’t stand the idea of having to see you hurt again

he focused all his anger towards her into love and care for you, which definitely pissed her off; not that either of you noticed anymore.

“how do you know i’m not a robot too?” you asked.

“hmmm…” heeseung pulled your face even closer to his so that your foreheads were touching.

“heeseung!” you giggled quietly, as if you were reprimanding him for the PDA that made you shy, but the hand you brought up to his neck said otherwise.

the makeup artist who insulted you had left the area by then, hating to see you look so happy and in love, and the director of the photo shoot had just called heeseung over.

“you’re too pretty to be a robot.” he declared, as if that made absolute sense, kissing your cheek before getting up to get back to the photoshoot, “coming!” leaving you blushing in your seat.

sometimes, if he can, he’ll try resolving conflicts so that you don’t have to.

even though he knows you’re better at arguing than him or more persuasive than him.

if he knows the friend who’s not agreeing with you, he’ll offer to talk to them so you don’t have to.

even if you say no he’s probably going to act so different around that friend or vaguely mention that you were trying to do the right thing to where they would know he’s on your side anyway, always.

jay;

if you asked jay if he was protective over you, he would probably say something like, “yeah, sure.”

but if you asked anyone else who knew him, it would be an ABSOLUTELY!!!

it’s second nature to jay to physically protect you.

whether that be through standing on the outside of the sidewalk so you’re not too close to the street;

or literally feeding you food from his chopsticks when he feels like you didn’t eat enough;

it’s so natural for him to be close to you and nurture you that he doesn’t even realize what he’s doing when he gets up just to move his chair at the restaurant next to yours.

“yah! she’s not gonna run away from you!” sunghoon teases him from across the table.

you laugh and jay’s just like ? “why would she run away from me?”

“you didn’t need to move your chair so much closer to hers.” sunoo laughs too.

jay just shrugs, “she was too far. right babe?” he turns to look at you, placing his hand on your thigh under the table and caressing it, like he always does.

you smile and resist the urge to kiss him. “right, baby.”

despite the fact that he should be grateful you didn’t kiss jay on the spot, sunoo cringes at how adorable and smiley you two are, right in front of his salad. “eww…”

jake;

jake is such a loyal guardian puppy boy that he’s always being protective over you in the way he hovers.

because creeps don’t even want to think about approaching you when jake is always touching or holding you somehow, hanging onto every word you say and laughing a little too hard at your half-assed jokes.

but if you’re feeling upset or sick, and jake can’t necessarily be bright and giggly, you’ll notice the intensity of his love for you and the protectiveness that follows.

even though he knows and loves the fact that you can take care of yourself, you won’t be lifting a finger as long as he can help it.

usually you’d go visit him at the dorm late at night when he’s finally free from his schedule, waiting on the couch with whoever else was there until he appeared

but if you had just been released from surgery, jake expected you to be knocked out at home and was planning on going to visit you instead.

“ahhh!!” jake practically screamed when he saw you chilling on the couch with jungwon, as if there weren’t a 8% chance you wouldn’t have survived the surgery (you tried to tell him it was a tiny number, but that didn’t stop him from freaking out). “what are you doing here?!”

“nice to see you too,” you laughed.

“oh my-“ jake rushed over and grabbed your face, kissing your forehead quickly, “god, baby, you should be lying down.” he kept kissing all over your face, overwhelmed with how incredibly relieved and concerned he felt at the same time.

“i feel fine!” you laughed, long and slow, and jake noticed something was off. “i’m still under some anesthesia sooo…” you tried to reassure him, but it only sent him into overdrive.

in no time, jake carried you off the couch, kicked his roommate out, lay you down on his bed, fed you dinner you both didn’t even realize he was capable of making, and gave you a massage until you fell asleep.

he continued squeezing and kissing your shoulders even after you were asleep, glasses on and phone in hand as he googled the best way to take care of someone who had just gone through your surgery.

because if you weren’t going to be gentle with yourself, at least he was going to be.

and god help anyone who tried to enter the room or be louder than a single decibel…

sunghoon;

sunghoon is a free-spirited person, a free-spirited friend, and a free-spirited lover. he has always been independent and loved your independence as well

which is why it was shocking to see the way a switch flipped in him whenever he sensed you were uncomfortable, or in danger

“what is it?” sunghoon asked worriedly, as he saw you frown over your phone for what felt like the 100th time that day

“it’s just… you remember what I told you about that guy from class?”

“is he bothering you?” the stern tone he asked this with alone made you feel protected

he rubbed your back soothingly as he took your phone from your hand, scrolling through hundreds of creepy messages from the classmate who had been harassing you

when his caller id appeared, sunghoon didn’t even think twice before answering, “hello.”

“did you change your voice?” the boy stupidly asked. “i know this is your number. you can’t hide.”

hearing that pissed sunghoon off so much. he couldn’t stand knowing that someone was stalking you to where you felt fear, and like you couldn’t escape them.

sunghoon would do anything to make sure you always felt safe, which was part of why he immediately got up and stepped outside to finish the phone call, not wanting you to hear the aggression in his tone.

you would never find out what sunghoon had said to him. he didn’t want you to know— that’s just how he rolled. all you knew was that whatever he had said was so powerful that you never saw the boy ever again. anywhere. he had even dropped out of school.

“please tell me if anyone ever causes you trouble, okay?” sunghoon made you promise.

jungwon;

jungwon is someone who greatly appreciates things like manners and propriety, which is why it was almost amusing to witness him throw all respect for someone out the window the moment they hurt you.

“you’re not sitting there.” jungwon said to the man who had taken a seat on the opposite side of you in the waiting room of a music show. jungwon knew he was pushing it by saying that to someone older than him, who he worked with, but he didn’t really give a shit if he knew they were scaring you.

“excuse me?” the man asked. “who are you to tell me where to sit?”

jungwon was incredibly rarely the type to do any form of PDA, but he instinctually wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his chest.

“who are you to be a creep towards every girl you work with?” he retorted without hesitation.

the man had no choice but to grumble and leave, knowing it wasn’t a good idea to piss off the leader of the group he was working with, but little did he know it was wayyy too late. jungwon decided right then and there that the man was done.

you were so afraid of the man that you were still shaking after he got up and left, and jungwon was surprised by the intensity of your reaction. it broke his heart and made him tear up a little as he held you. he had a feeling you didn’t feel comfortable telling him the full reason why the man scared you, but he never pushed you to tell him.

jungwon rubbed his hand up and down your arm, pressing a long kiss to your hair and whispering, “you’re okay, i’m here,” until you stopped shaking.

he did not hesitate to get that man fired with his leader card the second he had the chance to speak to the managers, to say the least.

sunoo;

sunoo can and will end a motherfucker for you.

he’s not afraid to speak his mind, but especially when it comes to you.

however, his first priority is to validate you and wipe that frown off your face.

you sat across him at a cafe explaining what your so-called friend had said about you with tears streaming down your face, and sunoo was nothing but gentle as he squeezed both your hands in his, thoroughly listening to every word you said

“i’m so sorry he said that to you. you’re amazing and he’s stupid.” sunoo’s praise of you and insults of your ex-friend made you laugh. “he wouldn’t know how to do your job even if he had five years of experience. he’s an idiot. and he looks like squidward.”

you giggled. “he does kind of look like squidward…”

sunoo reached up to wipe your tears away with his thumb, pausing a bit to stare at you. “ugh. he wishes he had even 2% of your beauty.” he was being sassy, but he meant it.

you laughed again, forgetting all about your ex-friend the more you hung out with sunoo

and if you let him, sunoo would lovee to say all those things to that guy’s face. but only if you let him. (please let him.)

niki;

niki can be compulsive when it comes to you

as opposed to sunoo, who wouldn’t say anything unless you let him, niki will be throwing hands as soon as he finds out something happened to you.

okay, maybe he won’t always literally fight someone, but he will not think twice about confronting your manager himself if he notices you’re being overworked, or telling your friends their offensive jokes aren’t fucking funny.

he’ll even tell his own friends that, and he won’t care if they’re older than him if they’re talking shit about you.

“hey, stop talking about her like that.” niki said, the second he heard some trainee friends having the audacity to objectify and complain about you in the same sentence. “that’s my girlfriend.”

“and? your girlfriend’s hot, but she’s a fucking bitch sometimes.”

they should NOT have said that.

if jay hadn’t entered the room moments later, it would have been a lot more difficult for him to lie to you about his knuckles being red from exercising with a punching bag.

you didn’t even know niki wasn’t friends with those guys anymore until you saw them on the street a couple months later.

you pointed at them openly, “hey, isn’t that—“

niki grabbed the hand you were pointing with. “don’t point at people, it’s rude.”

“but aren’t those your friends?”

“no.” as they got closer, niki glared at them and subconsciously squeezed your hand tighter.

for a moment, his jaw had set, he started seeing red again as he remembered what they said about you, and he genuinely thought about hurting them again until—

“ow, hey, you’re gonna crush my fingers!”

niki was so angry that he didn’t realize how hard he was squeezing your hand. he immediately turned to you and brought your hand up to his lips. “i’m sorry.”

you paused a bit, stunned by how unlike himself he was being “it’s… okay…”

niki pat your head, deciding then and there that he not only had to protect you from other people, but from himself, as well

#idk why the fuck i did niki’s like that it’s 4am #jake sim #park jeongseong #enhypen reactions #enhypen x reader #enhypen reaction #enhypen imagine #enhypen imagines #heeseung x reader #jake sim x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff

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lavenderchqn · 11 days

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synopsis — they get jealous parings — bf! xiao, wanderer, lyney x reader (seperate) warnings — it's written in 2nd person (and although it's been proofread... my english is not englishing all that well); you and xiao get into a minor argument (it gets resolved!); scara is his boastful self and pays a price for that; lyney's just sad I'm sorry :( requested? — requested by @ceneid notes — thank you so much for the request! hopefully it's to your taste, considering I've made it more sad if anything and it's a written piece with some texts messages included!!

XIAO

Any occasion to meet with friends is a worthwhile, so when Hu Tao invited both you and Xiao to her upcoming birthday party, you quickly agreed to come — of course, with the ‘pass’ from your partner.

He wouldn’t consider your friends to be the most enjoyable in the ‘company’ department, mostly because he considered them too loud for his liking. However, despite such displeasure, Xiao could still certainly say that your enjoyment was worthy of a few hours of his torture..

Unfortunately, not everything can go as we would like every time and that would be the situation the raven-haired man has found himself in.

The moment the two of you stepped into Hu Tao’s apartment you were whisked away by some of your friends, leaving Xiao to fend for himself… Although he could see a smidge of displeasure across your face the moment one of the girls - Xiangling if his memory didn’t betray him - grabbed your arm.

And well, that’s the situation he was stuck in for a while… Feeling like an accessory to your person, all while your friends have been chatting about how life was treating them. Being overstimulated was an understatement to of how he felt at the moment.

Leaving the living room to get a breather only furthered him in the thoughts of feeling ignored… and perhaps a little bit jealous? Well, it’s not like he could voice his concerns with how you’ve been behaving throughout the evening.

Your phone vibrating multiple times in the past minute has piqued your curiosity, prompting you to open it to check the messages… Only to leave you in utter shock.

Not only have you realised that the time was more than what you expected… But your partner was about to leave to head home all without you. Guilt was most certainly creeping down your back.

You replied to him as quickly as you could, hoping that he would stay true to his word of staying for a second longer.

— Hu Tao, we’re gonna head home now. - You tapped her shoulder, informing her that you and Xiao would be leaving in a moment. - Once again, happy birthday.

Grabbing your purse, you’ve made your way to the hall of the house, eyes meeting with the displeased look of your partner’s and the silent treatment already making its debut as you were leaving the building.

The car ride was borderline horrific - the tension between the two of you thick enough to cut with a knife… And albeit confused with Xiao’s behaviour, you needed to start the conversation in order to hopefully resolve the conflict between you.

— Can we talk about it? - You asked shyly, turning your head to search for some signs of willingness on his face.

— Not that much to talk about. - Xiao sighed, not taking his eyes off the road. - I’m simply upset your friends can hog your attention for so many hours.

Your eyes widened at the thought of his obvious statement of jealousy… And the next second, turned into immense guilt. You of all people should be aware of how he reacts in settings like those, and yet you kind of brushed that off.

— I’m sorry. - You stated, hearable sincerity in your voice. - I should’ve kept your feelings in mind, and yet I didn’t.

Xiao… Was most certainly not expecting that. He could imagine multiple scenarios, in which you attack him for being jealous and possessive, and yet here you were - taking accountability for a minor mistake you’ve made.

— I understand you wanted to enjoy some? time with your friends. - He stated. - Next time I won’t go. I don’t want to sour the mood. Spending time with your friends to the fullest is important, is it not?

Apologies have been exchanged between the two of you, topped with a night of eating fried tofu snacks and watching silly horror movies.

After all, friend time and Xiao time don’t have to land at the same time, do they?

WANDERER

If you could use only two words to describe your partner - “prideful” and “boastful” are the first ones that come to mind. At this point you’re pretty sure, you’ve heard the story of Haypasia at least twenty times…

To Wanderer, your jealousy makes him thrive. As messed up as it sounds, to him it’s proof that you’re with him for real… That you won’t betray him, given the chance. On the other hand, you don’t appreciate that specific behaviour of his too much — One or two times might’ve been silly but the more he tends to engage in said actions, the more it makes you feel insecure.

His persistence is exactly what resulted in… let’s say a tad of joking.

You’ve known Tartaglia for many months now. Introduced to you by your partner, the only interactions the two of you shared have been online. According to Wanderer, it’s due to Ajax’s constant traveling…

And yet the ginger says it’s due to other reasons.

— [y/n], trust me. - He says cheerfully via voice chat during one of your gaming sessions. - That will absolutely make him fuming with jealousy! Hell, I’d be lucky to make it out alive after pulling that. -

You’ve found out that Tartaglia will just so happen to be flying to your city soon. Throughout the last few weeks, the two of you schemed a little plan to show your loving partner EXACTLY what jealousy is like In the end, you trusted the male to take reign over the performance that would happen in due time.

Sure — you felt a bit bad doing something that in your eyes seemed “malicious”, but with Wanderer’s persistent attempts and encouragement… Surely you needed your boyfriend to have a taste of his own medicine.

And said time was about to come.

You’ve agreed to pick up Ajax from the airport, excitedly speaking of this being your first meeting in person. While you’ve sent each other pictures, albeit in your case it was Wandy sending a couple of photos of the two of you, this would be much, much different in comparison.

— I still don’t understand what prompted you to pick up that ginger from the airport. - The raven-haired man scoffed, looking at the arrivals signs. Him and his silly ways of showing affection…

— Well, I know that said ginger is quite an important person in your life. - You smiled, partially since you knew you were saying the truth as well as the chaos that was about to happen between the two of you.

Wanderer was almost about to say something, getting when he got cut off by the noise of someone running, getting increasingly louder and culminating in him getting tackled into a hug.

— It’s so good to see you guys! - Tartaglia said, after leaving your boyfriend alone for a second before turning to you. - It’s so lovely to finally meet you in person, [y/n]… Pictures don’t do your beauty justice. - A kiss on your hand.

To say you were flabbergasted would be an understatement. Sure, you agreed on him doing mild flirting… BUT THIS? And you were not the only one standing in utter shock.

— What the fuck was that Childe? - Your partner asked, seeing red at the events unraveling right before his eyes.

— Common courtesy. - Tartaglia winked. - In my culture, it’s quite normal to kiss a lady on the hand when you greet her.

Oh, the coyness in his voice spoke everything. He enjoyed every single second of the jealousy Wanderer was feeling. And to say that this interaction would be the last of your plan was a huge understatement.

Your phone has been pinging ever so often, with messages coming in from different social media — all from your boyfriend obviously. Tartaglia ordered a lovely dinner on his tab as ‘thanks’ for picking him up from the airport. This was also a way of the ginger giving you space, which posed as an opportunity to check what Wanderer was up to.

LYNEY

Lyney feels as if he’s going to suffocate in the next few minutes. It’s not that he’s unhappy to be here. Frankly, he’s here to support you as a loving partner. It’s just that… The atmosphere here is rough. The situation at hand is reminding him is reminding him of all the times he has attended those funding meetings with his Father.

He proceeds to take a deep breath. “Anything for [y/n]” - Lyney whispers to himself.

Speaking of yourself, here you are trying not to pass out from the stress you feel. You’re mere minutes away from giving a presentation on your project, which if received positively, will land you a promotion with a generous pay raise.

The possibility of this success comes with its price — the need to “suck” up to some of the more liked employees in hopes of getting their approval for your ideas.

This is precisely how you’ve ended up in this situation… away from Lyney because archons only know why. One moment you were introducing him as your partner to many of your work besties, and the next you’re in the middle of a conversation with the manager of another branch… Who - you would say - has a horrific sense of humour.

— And I tell her “Can’t say I sleep like a log! After all, I don’t wake up in a fireplace”! - You force yourself to smile, fully cringing inside at the dad joke you’ve just heard. Hell, this guy isn’t even a dad… nor is he over thirty years old to be making jokes like these!

— I see, I see. - You reply politely, fully intending not to show your hidden feelings at what you just have witnessed. Your eyes, however, wander to try and find Lyney amongst all these business-oriented people. And indeed you manage to locate him.

Unfortunately for you — there’s clear evidence that your partner is not feeling his best… And since you’re the reason he even showed up to this setting, you feel like you need to check up on him. Therefore, you proceed to message him.

From the messages it seems like your lovely partner is doing much better than before… However there’s this inkling in your brain that he might still feel jealous about this situation.

— Thank you for the conversation. - You manage to finally get a word in with the manager who has been talking nonstop. - Unfortunately, I’m here with someone… and I feel bad leaving them unattended. I shall be taking my leave now. -

With those words said, you proceeded to get to Lyney, finally getting a break from acting as a suck-up throughout the entire evening

— Hi lovely. - You say, catching your partner’s hand in yours. - I’m so sorry about leaving you all alone. -

The guilt inside you can be felt both in your manner of speech, as well as in the grip you have on his hand. Lyney must be able to sense this, as he’s bringing your hand up for a loving kiss.

— Pay that no mind. You’re absolutely forgiven, Muse. - He whispers, not wanting to bring more attention to you than necessary. - Besides, I’m sure you’ll repay me with all the kisses in the world once we get home.

It always turns out like this. A situation where you were supposed to be the one comforting your partner, turns its tables into him uplifting you with poetic words. The result of it being you - feeling the most courageous you have been throughout this entire business meeting.

In the end, your presentation goes more than well. You’ve knocked each point out of the park and even answered all the questions with merit!

— I knew you would do amazing, bubs! - Lyney gives you a kiss on the cheek the moment you leave the venue where your presentation took place. - As expected of the magnificent Muse of the magnificent Lyney.

He’s singing you — and himself by proxy, because he has to be stunning if his partner is that good — praises the entire road home, which makes you wonder… How in the world a singular person can go through so many behaviour patterns in the span of a singular night?

date of posting - may 22nd 2024

#lavv.writes #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #wanderer x reader #xiao x reader #lyney x reader

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fallingskiesandrisingseas · 1 year

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The Pevensie kids are otherwordly in more ways than the naked eye reveals.

For starters, with all the years they have spent around great cats, they are absolutely silent when they walk. They can stalk and prowl like no one's business, and once, when a girl pissed off Lucy, she showed her her teeth.

When a shrink asks her why she is scared of cats, so many years later , she remembers the white flash in the schoolyard, the sudden certainty of death.

Second of all, they don't seem to leave footprints in snow. In the winters of Narnia, magic was all around Cair Paravel, benign spirits showing them how to leave no traces, go unseen in the great white. Some swear they move without touching the earth. No one is sure enough to rebutt them.

The Pevensies are unbeatable in snowball fights. Especially Susan can throw like a honkball pitcher, able to single out and pick off targets that should be out of reach.

When the boys drink alcohol for the first time, at ages 17 and 15, they turn out to have great tolerance, something no one their age should have. Yet Peter and Edmund can beat anyone in a drinking game. Narnian spirits were strong (pun intented), so they do not find this feat particularly challenging. And no one understands how Susan puts away bottles and bottles of wine without ever slurring her words or losing her razor sharp mind.

The boys that keep pouring her more wine, hoping to take her home drunk, leave disappointed every night. Susan knows what's up. She's been forced to sit through boring diplomatic dinners with alcohol as her only interesting companion, is used to men trying to take advantage when she drinks. She will not be tricked by school boys.

They have a tolerance for other substances, too.

When someone gets the bright idea to roofie Lucy at age 16, he ends up with a nail through his foot, hanging from the highest tree in London.

Lucy shows up the next day with dirt under her nails and a hammer in her backpack. The teachers take one look at Peter, who stares back with a glare that could refreeze Narnia, and decide not to say a word.

They're all insanely strong swimmers. Susan won prizes before, but now she's breaking records. Edmund saves a man twice his weight from drowing, dragging him along across a cold lake for half a mile.

No one understands how the scrawny, 5"9 kid pulled that off. Or how he manages to hold his breath for so long.

And then there is the question of their minds.

Suddenly, Edmund can beat even the most experienced men in chess. He goes on to become champion of the region and then of the whole of England.

Peter, once a mediocre student, is now a stunningly good writer. When his professor reads his essay for Ethics, he weeps, something that has never happened before. Many see a future in academia for him.

Susan becomes known as the best problem solver in school. She's able to resolve many conflicts, not in the least because she's so attractive men stop thinking about fighting the second she steps into a room. But underneath the beauty resides a smooth operator. Her professors don't doubt for a second she'll be a brilliant politician.

Lucy no longer has the child like innocence from before the war. Her sense of wonder never left her, though. The centaurs have taught her astronomy, and looking at the stars reminds her of Narnia, one of the few things that are the same. The boarding school telescope goes missing an awful lot, as does she. Often, her brothers and sister come along, especially on bright nights. They never get caught.

They've changed. And they hold onto these pieces of Narnia, because it is all they have left.

#narnia #character analysis #narnia meta #the lion the witch and the wardrobe #c.s. lewis #they're fae #peter pevensie #susan pevensie #edmund pevensie #lucy pevensie

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yeostars · 4 months

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౨ৎ♡ | Heartstrings and tears |

• J. YH .ᐟ •

•pairing- bf .ᐟ jeong yunho x reader .ᐟ

•synopsis- wherein yunho and y/n have an argument late at night, y/n leaves their apartment for some space while walking to clear out her thoughts without informing yunho. both of them are mad at each other, but are worried about the latter at the same time. Cold shoulders. Him kissing away your tears. (a happy ending at the end dw)

•genre- angst, fluff at the end

•warnings- just some high tension and aggression throughout the story. tears and sarcasm, arguments, typical argument and resolving conflicts

•author's note- randomly thought of this fic idea in the morning, and i had it all planned out so i decided to write it in the eve itself. I still have my ongoing hwa and yeo fic left to complete, I'll post them soon after this i swear ! this is my first written imagine on a specific member, hope you enjoy reading !

───────────✰✰✰✰✰──────────

In the dimly lit apartment, tension hung in the air like an invaded storm. You sat on the extreme far end of the sofa, wanting to be as distant from your boyfriend, as you could, at the moment. Arguments barely took place between you and Yunho in the course of your relationship. Then what had led you to have one, at this moment, which left both of you frustrated along with your anguished emotions bubbling up to the surface?

Well, this argument was a result of your small pent up issues and minor conflicts. Both of you bottled up such opinions and worries you had for yourselves and for each other, and finally, a fully blown argument involving sharp and harsh words towards each other took place. Not to mention the fact that both you and Yunho were stubborn and childish, hence sarcastic remarks throughout the argument was a must.

Yunho's lips released a profound sigh, and you could practically feel his frustration and anger from that sigh. He got up, gave you one last glance and retreated to the bedroom. You didn't even glance at him all this time while he left. All you did was stare at the floor, as the echo of the closing door of his room resonated in your ears.

You lolled your head back on the sofa and stared up at the ceiling. No. Just no. You couldn't bear this atmosphere with unresolved tension anymore. You needed some space, too. Perhaps, the idea of a night walk didn't seem so bad to you. You needed this to clear out your thoughts or else you couldn't face Yunho. Not at the moment, atleast.

You stood up and lingered across the door of his room, and after giving the closed door one last glance, you picked up your phone & the spare keys of your apartment, put on your slippers and headed out of the apartment, closing the door very softly.

After what seemed like half an hour, Yunho finally got out of the bedroom and walked towards the deserted living room, as if ready to face you & resolve the argument once and for all. As he scanned the empty and silent living room, worry etched across his forehead lines as his brows furrowed. He hurriedly went to the kitchen and your room, the bathroom and possibly checked every corner of your house to find you. No trace of you. You were nowhere to be found...

Is she insane? Yunho mumbled, as his eyes lingered across the big circle clock in the living room, reading the time. 11.45. Where the hell did she go this late at night? Without even informing or texting me.... he thought, as he immediately went to the bedroom to reach out for his phone & came back to the living room to sit on the sofa again, his phone in the palm of his hands, his fingers lingering on your number in the messaging app.

He contemplated for a while, what kind of text he should send you, or weather he should text you at all. He understood that you probably went out to get some space & to let everything sink in, but without even informing him...? Didn't you know that the person he worried and cared for the most was you..?

He realized that you were giving him the silent treatment. A cold shoulder, perhaps, and he decided to reciprocate this silent treatment of yours. Yunho sat there, with a blank expression on his face, scrolling through all sorts of comedy videos on social media but none of them even made him smile an inch, let alone laugh. His thoughts were consumed by your whereabouts and your argument that took place earlier.

Minutes passed, as the feelings of worry, guilt, frustration, anger and desperation consumed him. He finally decided to push his ego aside and text you because hell, he couldn't bear this anymore. He wanted to resolve all of this. He longed to see your smile, longed to cuddle and kiss you, longed to just be with you and end this damn argument.

Yunho impatiently waited for you to come back home, his feet tapping the floor every second. He recollected himself and thought of how he'd face you and what he would say when he faced you. Well, half of it depended on how you were. Were you mad? Were you still upset? All these thoughts were held at a standstill as he heard the loud doorbell of your apartment.

He stood up in a jiffy, opening the door to reveal you, safe and sound, in front of him. Your palms reached at the back of your neck, clearly a little embarrassed as Yunho stepped aside to let you in. You still stared only at the floor and nowhere else. The farthest you could glance at was Yunho's black sweatshirt. You just couldn't meet his eyes, and your boyfriend stared at you with such intensity & the cold expression on his face was something you wouldn't want to see.

"You're unbelievable, you know that? Informing me that you were going out or even texting me wouldn't hurt, Y/N. Especially after our heated argument, what emotions did u expect me to have after you left home without a single word? Do you know how worried i was?!" He said this, in a tone higher than usual. He almost regretted it after a second and thought he should've apologised to you first..

You had to admit, though, it wasn't the best decision to leave home without informing or texting him, so it was right for him to get mad over that. But, you had a right to be mad, too, he said quite a few sharp words during your argument earlier that stung you right in the heart.

"I'm... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. Don't you think you have something to apologize for, too, Yunho?" You said, stuttering a little.

"I know i do. Would you atleast look at me, though? You've been staring at the floor ever since. Look me right in the eye, please." He pleaded, coming a step closer to you.

Your heart immediately picked up its pace as you stared at your boyfriend in front of you, his expression filled with regret and guilt.

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, Y/N. For everything earlier. For those harsh words and that... attitude. But you have to know that you're just as stubborn as me. To be honest, i realized that whatever we were arguing about earlier was childish and wasn't worth for us being mad at each other. Forgive me please. I can't bear all this tension and just want to see you smile." He said all that at one go, as if he already had figured out what he'd say to you once you're back home.

You bit your lips as you stared at him, his words and his apology ringing in your ears like an echo. Before you even knew it, tears starting streaming down your face, as you took everything in. Yunho's gaze towards you softened, and nothing hurt him more than seeing you cry. You rarely ever cried in front of him and the fact that you were, right now, almost made him want to cry too.

He immediately came closer towards you, his left hand sliding behind your waist and right hand behind your head, pulling you closer to his chest. "You know, seeing you cry hurts me a lot. I feel like crying too now.." he said, softly patting your head as you calmed down. As you cried for a minute or two in his arms, you pulled back, still in his embrace, to look at him. "I'm sorry, too. I hate arguing with you. Especially since you're the sweetest and kindest person i've ever seen in my life. Instead of being angry at you, i was angrier at myself. You never say such harsh words, so i felt like i must've done or said something really bad to have you react like that." You said, your voice breaking a little, a few tears streaming down your face.

"Don't say stuff like that, y/n. I'm the guilty one here, too. Don't blame yourself only because as a matter of fact, we were both childish and egoistic" He said, and suddenly you felt the palm of his hand at your head slide down lower to the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him, as his lips glided effortlessly to the tears on your cheeks.

Did he...just kiss my tears away?!? You wondered as he finally rested his forehead against yours, waiting for you to say something.

Instead of replying to him, you were the one who pulled him closer by the neck now, your lips instantly connecting with his. Yunho's eyes widened in surprise, yet he picked up the pace of the kiss in a second and kissed you back just as passionately as you did. Both his arms were resting against your waist now, as the both of you just kissed and felt each others love in silence.

As you pulled back, panting, in the dire need of some air, a blush immediately formed on your cheeks. Yunho noticed that and smirked, ruffling your hair in endearment.

"Hey, you're the one who started the kiss & you're being shy now..?" He questioned, chuckling.

"S-so what? You're way too good of a kisser & that's the most normal reaction i could ever have." You said, all flustered.

"I'm way too good of a kisser, hm? Well then, would you mind doing something more than just kissing..?" He asked, smirking yet again.

"Tonight...? No way, Yunho. You know that we've both got work tomorrow. Probably tomorrow night since its the weekend later, if you're good enough to me." You say, joking.

"Good enough?! Aren't i always good enough to you, darling?" He said, purposely adding darling at the end to make you even more flustered than you already are.

"W-whatever. Anyways, lets go sleep now, its past one o'clock for gods sake." You said, reaching out for his hand, as the both of you walked towards the bedroom, reaching out towards your respective wardrobes to change into your nightclothes.

"I love you." You mumble to Yunho besides you, just as you're about to sleep.

"I love you too, Y/N. More than you'll ever know. Lets never argue again, all it does is waste our time." Yunho said, turning off the lights as you nodded, the both of you having a sound and relaxed sleep because of your resolved argument.

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muzansfangs · 2 months

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Bloodstain.

Starring: Aizen Sosuke x f!reader; mention to past Shuhei Hisagi x f!reader; Rukia, Ichigo and Renji;

Format: multi-chapers story;

General warnings for the following chapters: nsfw, age gap between Sosuke and the reader (who is twenty-three years old), post TYBW events, solitude, touch-starved Aizen, possible spoilers, mention to hook-ups, vaginal sex, use of alcohol, drunk sex, unprotected sex, marking the partner, breeding kink, rough sex, dom!Aizen, sub!reader, accidental pregnancy, protective Aizen, struggling with emotions, mutual pining, self-doubting, domestic fluff, conflict with the Central 46, mention to violence and gore;

Warnings for this chapter: mention to war, casual hook-up between Shuhei and the reader, use of alcohol, self-deprecating behavior, fainting, mention to pregnancy;

Plot: With Yhwach’s defeat, you can finally go back to your ordinary life in the World of the livings, or so you thought. Staying in the Soul Society for another day to attend the celebration of the glorious victory over the Sternritters did not sound that bad, until you crossed paths with your recent fling. Drinking too much to forget about it, you end up falling at the feet of your greatest source of distress: Aizen Sosuke.

MASTERLIST | PROLOGUE | TO THE NEXT CHAPTER

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𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟’𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐧.

People chattering about unimportant matters, taking swigs of saké, finally enjoying the gentle breeze of a summer night without drawing their blades to defend their lives were delightfully comforting. The Seireitei was gradually going back to restore its former beauty. Some buildings were still undergoing renovations, the injured soldiers and Captains were still recovering from the fierce battles they had fought, but that night people were, at least, leaving their barracks and homes to enjoy the jollifications of Yhwach's downfall.

No more battlecries and bloodcurdling screams of agony echoed through the streets, replaced by the unmistakable glee of a crowd of people who had survived the brutality of a war no one was prepared for. There was hope twinkling in the eyes of the kids playing around the Soul Society, looking for the officers who had saved their lives to thank them and proudly announcing they were soon going to enroll at the Academy. Their parents, injured and tired, watched them from afar, not frightened anymore by the idea of a Sternritter slicing their heads off of their shoulders.

You faintly smiled, your eyes searching for your friends to join them. You were pretty sure you had caught a glimpse of Renji's crimson hair in your peripheral, but you had been dragged in the opposite direction by the human tide marching towards the drinking stalls.

Perhaps, you should have accepted Rukia's suggestion to spend the day at the Kuchiki Estate and attending the festival together. Yet, the idea of bumping into her stolid, grumpy brother, who tended to pop out of no where and make you regret stepping into his manor every single time you wandered through the intricate corridors of his mazy house, sounded unappealing back then.

Still, the perspective of being humiliated by Byakuya's paternalistic way of chiding you did not seem that awful now that you were literally adrift and in need of assistance to find your way out of the flood of drunk and dancing people surrounding you.

You were genuinely frustrated, head whipping around erratically, yearning to spot a familiar face. Apparently, you were destined to spend the night alone. Or so you thought.

Hands sliding down your hips and dragging you out of the crowd made you both let out a pathetic screech and almost draw your blade. The risk of accidentally slashing someone, though, worked as a deterrent to unsheathe your zanpakuto and therefore you resolved on the self-defence lessons you had received from Urahara. Swinging your right arm on your right, you tried to backhand your kidnapper across the jaw. Missing your target, you scoffed and, when your feet touched the ground again, you were determined to knock your aggressor down.

His hand promptly wrapping around your ankle the moment your foot tried to hit his side, prevented you two from spending a most likely awkward night in the Fourth Division's hospital wing. Now, face to face with the stranger, your jaw went slack and you were glad he decided to break the ice first. Out of everyone you could run into, of course you had to meet your most recent fling.

"We need to stop meeting like that" Shuhei jested, cocking his head to the side upon letting go of your ankle and granting you the chance to lower your leg.

Your parted lips closed, hands tugging the hem of your skirt down, whilst the angles of your lips lifted in a soft smile "Definitely" you agreed, nodding your head and raising your hands apologetically.

"I think you owe me a 'thank you, Lieutenant Hisagi'. Maybe also a kiss, or two to idolatrize me like I deserve, you know?" he bantered, folding his arms against his chest, his dark grey eyes vainly attempting to fathom the layers of your mind .

But you both knew there was only one person around who could do that and, surely, it was not Shuhei Hisagi.

You scrunched up your nose and waved your hand at him dismissively, mentally cursing yourself for not having cleared things out between you two before the commotion caused by the war. How could you, though? With you living in the World of the livings and being a university student with a part-time job at Urahara's shop, you did not have much time left to visit the Soul Society.

On the other hand, Shuhei was always swamped with work and dealing with his new Captain was decidedly a challenge. After that one-night stand you had a couple of months ago, when you offered him a place to stay to spend the night after a mission in Karakura, you had not talked about your relationship anymore. What were you two? Allies and friends aside, obviously.

"There's no need to gloat. I'm not a damsel in distress. I would have found my way out of there anyway. — you replied, a tinge of feigned annoyance in your voice as you shot an arrogant look at him — Sorry about it, but no kisses tonight" you added, right before you heard someone calling out your name at your back.

You glanced above your shoulder quickly, eyes landing on Rukia and your younger step-brother, Ichigo, waving at you enthusiastically. It was refreshing seeing them smile again after everything you all had been through. It still felt surreal.

Shuhei followed your gaze, quirking a dark eyebrow up resignedly. Another day wasted in trying to figure you out, another chance to confess his feelings evaporating before his eyes.

"Just tonight? What about tomorrow?" he asked you, a small grin crossing his lips as you felt cold sweat collect on the back of your neck. He was undoubtedly giving it his best shot.

"You are persistent. The war changed you, I see" you commented, avoiding his question as you always did.

"I know what I want now. Or better, who I want".

His words caused you to falter, lips parting as you let the implications of his assertion sink in. He wanted you, he had really just thrown his intentions at your face and left you with the burden of making such a decision over a night, letting it weigh on your shoulders at the worst moment possible. Maybe you deserved it: striving and ripping your heart out of your chest, while everyone else cheered and celebrated the incoming years of peace and stability, was nothing but the law of retaliation you had ended up subjecting yourself to with your evasive way of handling love-issues.

You swallowed forcefully, but before you could even pronounce his name again, Ichigo's voice pierced your ears again and you shrugged in defeat, taking some lumpish steps back to join your crew.

"I really should go. See you tomorrow, okay?" you stated way too quickly for your own likings, hoping he would drop the topic for the time being.

Shuhei nodded his head at you, hands raising to give you the thumbs-up "No problem" he reassured you, but you could tell he yearned to spend more time talking with you. His gaze was longing for more than a frivolous chit-chat, just like it did that infamous night spent in talking on the small balcony of your flat, among the bittersweet scent of peonies.

You two had an undeniable connection. But it was not enough for you. It would have never been enough, because you had, much to your dismay, molded your standards over the worst person ever. You refused to even say his name, to add another problem to deal with to your already plagued mind, even if you had to admit you had not been able to get him out of your head since you crossed paths again on the battlefield a few days ago.

That man, your nemesis, the achetype of everything you should have viscerally hated, was undeniably the only one who knew what secrets your eyes harboured. Your relationship with him was far from being healthy.

It was the antonym of healthy, actually.

A public enemy, an emotionally unavaiable man with a pretty evident god complex could never be able to show empathy to anyone, not even to himself. Surprisingly, though, your interactions had always been quite inspiring. Who was this man? A brilliant genius gone bad, alone, utterly alone. It was infuriating how he could read your mind the same way he read your body language during a fight. Drawn to him, you wondered why you had always had such a low sense of self-preservation and found yourself enticed by unreliable men with a debatable scheme of things.

"Gosh, what did Shuhei tell you? You look distraught" Rukia noted, furrowing her brows.

"Distraught? You've been way too kind. She looks more like a cantankerous granny who got rolled over by a car" Ichigo interjected, earning a kick in the shins by the short shinigami.

Or, as you loved to call her, his biggest 'what if'.

Fixing your attitude, you forcefully smiled, shrugging it off with a nod "Oh, it's nothing! I haven't slept well in that Inn. — you partially lied, albeit your back agreed with your complaint — It's more like I'm not used to sleep on the floor" you added, as the three of you took what you assumed was a short-cut to the village square.

"I will pretend to buy your words. Frankly, just because I heard there's a stall selling plushies of Chappy and I intend to purchase the limited edition one" Rukia saved you, tugging at the hem of Ichigo's sleeve to drag him along and leave you some space to clear out your mind.

You were glad Rukia had seen it in your eyes. You would have caught up with them later on. For the time being, all you needed was a distraction. A distraction in the form of saké and candy floss, to be precise. A weird mix, way too sugary and disgusting, but with your head in the clouds and your heart sinking into a sea of sorrow you did not feel like self-deprecating about your eating habits.

Distancing yourself from the jolly atmosphere around you sounded like a good idea and you therefore decided to venture towards the old barracks. You did not pay much attention to where you were going, your feet led you up through a wooden staircase, your hands occupied by your snacks, as you kept on brooding over your shortcomings. On top of that stood your inability of trying to be happy, for once.

"Fuck it all, fuck me and fuck him" you grumbled, gulping down the alcohol in search for a magical solution to your problem.

You were soon spent, the taste of the saké mixed with sugar left such a syrupy taste indulging on your tongue that you almost felt like puking. The Moon was no longer shining up above, ominous and dark clouds gathered on the horizon, ironically matching your mood. Not long after the first thunder rolled out in the distance, a droplet of water splashed onto the tip of your nose and you pouted. Rain. It was raining.

You could not make it back to your room at the Inn to find shelter and you were way too far from your friends's quarters to make it in time before it began to pour. Also, how would you have made it there in the first place, when you kept on stumbling on your feet and your vision was beginning to get blurry?

Cussing under your breath, you glanced at the doors at your right. No officers were there, or at least so you had been told. The idea of getting soaked not to barge in and wait for you to sober up out in the rain did not even crossed your mind for a second. Marching towards one of the doors, you sighed and raised your hand to slide it open. Your grip on the jug, thoug, loosened, your hands trembling all of a sudden making you frown, as the sound of pottery shattering into a million splinters made you flinch. How did it happen? Were you really that far gone?

What you did not expect, though, was for your knees to buckle as the wave of a familiar reiatsu hit you with such a force to make your rotula ungraciously hit the floor. You were drunk, there was no doubt about it, but you were not hallucinating. Your wary eyes flicked up, the sharp jawline of the man you had been cursing for years and longing for blessing your vision like a lucid dream. The eye-patch, the way his lips curled into a cocky grin upon watching you struggle onto the floor, even his posture gave away the fact that it was not a trick your mind was playing on you.

He was there, a palm away from you.

You gawked, the tall man in front of you peering down at you like someone who was inspecting a wounded animal at their doorway with unbridled curiosity. There you were, unable to move a muscle, out of your mind and puzzled by his presence. He was not supposed to be there.

"Fancy meeting you here" he chimed, hands behind his back, as he leaned forward just enough to make sure your eyes were staring deeply into his shimmering caramel one.

Your mouth had gone dry, it felt like chalk, a million of questions popping into your mind one after the other made your head spin. You were supposed to talk, to say something, to stand up and leave but all you did was whispering a name, his name.

"Sosuke" your vision darkening, as you eventually slumped down at his feet with a thud, unable to withstand the stress and his reiatsu in the poor state you were in.

How he had missed the way you, only you out of everyone, called him by his first name, even if he had almost killed your step-brother and your beloved father. There was no way he was going to leave you, the potential form of entertainment at hand, stay out there alone, unconscious, and miss his opportunity to get under your skin as he always had done.

“Pitiful” he uttered, rolling you over your back with his foot and bending down to hook his hands underneath your armpits to drag you inside the warm room.

You two could not know it back then, but this was the first link in a chain leading to a series of unfortunate events that were going to inevitably end in only one way. The day you were going to hold a pregnancy test in your hand, standing on the threshold of Kisuke’s shop, staring at him with a dumbfounded expression on your face, was not that far.

AUTHOR NOTE.

My dear readers, I am honored to finally introduce you to my Aizen Sosuke fan fiction. I had been thinking about this for months. I still have no idea of how many chapters long it will be. Stick around and find out yourselves. All I know is that the next chapter is going to be shameless filth. The same story will be uploaded on my Wattpad profile under the username of @/muzansfangs. As per usual, likes, comments and, mostly, re-posts are greatly appreciated.

Love, Luce ✨

TAGS: @pseudowho @stygianoir @onyxino @sashi-ya

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