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whomst-the-hell · 1 year

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The babysitters’ club, as the older members of the upside down crew have dubbed themselves, meet at least once a week. Sometimes it’s only a few hours, just long enough to watch a movie together, to confirm that everyone is still alive and coping. Sometimes it’s all night, and Argyle plies them all with good California weed while they attempt to work through their collective truckloads of trauma.

Sometimes, like tonight, they spend it goofing off and having fun like the dumb kids many of them couldn’t afford to be.

They’re gathered in a circle at the Harrington mansion, deserted as always, playing truth or dare. Nancy has just admitted to smoking weed in her freshman year, in the drama room with Barbara Holland, and she has set her know it all, meddling, journalist eyes on Eddie.

“Truth or dare,” she asks, a challenge clear on her face.

Eddie knows that, with most people, picking truth may be seen as the cowardly option. With Nancy, that couldn’t be more wrong. If he picks dare, he will be safe, but he will be mocked relentlessly by every single person in the room.

…

“Truth,” he sighs reluctantly.

“Who-” she pauses dramatically for effect, a theatrical detail that Eddie honestly respects, even if it fills him with dread, “-was your most embarrassing crush! And it has to be a person we know, no celebrities allowed!”

Shit.

He feels his eyes dart to Steve. Nancy smirks. Bitch. He can’t even lie about it then.

Time to face the music, he supposes mournfully.

“I would like to say, for the record, that I was in junior year, ok. And, in retrospect, with the knowledge I have now, it’s not even that bad, but at the time-“

“Spit it out, Munson,” says Robin, the fucking traitor.

“IhadacrushonSteve,” he says, all in one breath.

“What was that, dude, I didn’t catch it?” Argyle says, voice mellow. Eddie honestly doesn’t know if he’s in on this or not, but he glowers all the same.

Face red, he repeats, “I had a crush on Steve.” He resolutely does not look at Steve.

“No you didn’t!” Steve responds, immediately, aghast.

Eddie can feel his heart tearing in two.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Harrington, this was years ag-“

“You literally rejected me!”

Fucking what.

He knows he must look ridiculous right now, mouth hanging open, cheeks still red with embarrassment, but he does not have the capacity to care.

“Wh- what do you- huh?” he finally manages.

“When you were in junior year, and I was a sophomore? We were lab partners-“

And ohhh, hadn’t that just been sweet, sweet torture. Pretty, perfect Harrington had had to sit next to him all semester, where Eddie could see his freckles and smell his cologne, but-

“You spent the whole semester making fun of me!”

“What the fuck are you talking about, man?” says Steve, eyebrows furrowed in that way he does that makes Eddie want to kiss his forehead and- Fucking focus, Munson.

“You always used to make passive aggressive comments about my clothes, or my hair, or my books or whatever!”

Steve buries his face in his hands and groans.

“I wasn’t being passive aggressive.”

“You- what the fuck do you mean, you weren’t being passive aggressive! Why else would you have said any of that shit?”

“Because I meant it?”

Because he- what? Eddie played back as many of their interactions from that year as he could remember. I like your jacket, Steve had said when Eddie had started putting patches on his denim vest. Your hair looks nice today, he had said when Eddie had tied it back to beat the heat. Oh, that sounds interesting, when Eddie described the plot of the book he was reading.

“Oh my god, you were flirting with me.”

“No shit! I once told you you had really pretty eyes!“

“I thought you were bullying me!”

“How on Earth could ‘I think you have really pretty eyes’ be bullying?”

“I don’t know! It made more sense than it being flirting!”

“I asked you to go to the drive in with me! That is the most classic first date in the book!”

Holy shit, Steve Harrington had asked him out. Steve Harrington had asked him out and he’d said no. This was the worst day of Eddie’s life.

His face must have looked some kind of way, because Steve just groaned again. He sat there for a second before peeking up from behind his hands, a move that should not have been as cute as it was, what the fuck.

“If I tried again now, would you still think I was bullying you.”

Holy shit did Steve Harrington want to date him? This had to be a trick or a prank or something, right?

Except that he’d thought that in junior year as well, and apparently it had cost him a boyfriend, so.

“No- nope, I would definitely pick up on it, uh huh. Definitely,” he said in a rush. God, he was normally so good with words, fuck.

Steve emerged fully from his hands, face pink but expression determined.

“Eddie Munson, would you like to go to the drive in with me? They’re playing Jaws next saturday and I’d love to watch it with you.”

“Absolutely, Stevie. It’s a date.”

There are groans from the rest of their friends as they rifle through their pockets, each passing money to a very smug looking Nancy.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #my writing #i dont know the character tagging etiquette on tumblr #should i tag nancy or is that rude

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lotuspeacock · 1 year

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what the fuck even happened episode 8????

like, plotwise i know what happened but like there’s so much new info i’m processing.

rei dresses like that not for the professionalism of the job, but because his father expects him to look high-class even when he’s murdering people

anna’s musical talents literally traumatize children.

rei’s father has a god complex about his bloodline

the “organization” is more or less run by rei’s father. this is why kyutaro said that rei should know best what happens when you betray the organization, because every childish rebellion was treason on the organization.

rei doesn’t get too close to kazuki because the consequence if he does are dire.

side note: when rei says he has something to protect, he’s not just talking about miri. there is no mistaking that kazuki is precious to rei.

when rei is asked “did you find true belonging on the outside” he denies it. this is probably because he wants to protect kazuki and miri but it could also be because rei genuinely believes that he doesn’t truly belong in their little family. i believe this changes by the end when rei sees that kazuki and miri were waiting for him just to see him smile.

this is from a few other posts i saw, but rei’s mission was a warning. a peek into the consequences of forming attachments.

a continuation of point six, we see rei standing in his family home, feeling completely estranged while he’s on the phone with kazuki and miri being told to be back by dinner.

rei never seemed to be affected by his job before. but in the car with ogino he expresses shock at the picture of his mentors murdered wife. and the picture seems to be taken in the goriest way. rei is opening his heart to his family and as a consequence, he has to face the reality that he is not just killing, but taking lives.

“for the concept” WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN???? this man makes me so uncomfortable he is so goddamn psychotic. he definitely kills for fun even though he pretends its some big philosophical thing. essentially he was saying people exist to die. also his fucking blue eyed stare 🧿👄🧿

WAIT WAIT WAIT THEYRE TOTAL FOILS OF EACH OTHER. rei and his mentor that is. they both have that single slut strand.

miri is extremely insightful. she notices when someone close to her is hiding their dissatisfaction with life - what she calls “sadness”. her mom was dissatisfied with her life as a single mother and rei is dissatisfied with living under his father’s boot.

rei didn’t tell ogino his mentor’s last words because they weren’t meant for him (but probably also cuz ogino is a creep sob). rei “didn’t hear” anything because the words were directed to someone already gone.

this is less a plot point but more a personal analysis - i was sorta hoping that kazuki would show up during the fight and save rei, and he does! he saves rei, but not during the fight because that’s not really where rei was struggling. rei needed to be saved from his own belief that he was irredeemable, and kazuki did that perfectly bu showing rei that no matter what, he’ll be there. unconditionally. i mean, the man didn’t even ask about all the blood on his suit. (another i won’t ask i wouldn’t tell moment)

kazuki cut rei’s hair and decorated the apartment. when rei said “but then you suddenly started cleaning”, he’s saying that he didn’t care about kazuki until kazuki taught him how to care. when kazuki barged into rei’s apartment and cleaned the blood stained hands of a child assassin, he also cleared a space for himself in rei’s life. (side note: of course the undercut was kazuki’s idea)

“you think we can change?” god this was such a good quote. and the way kazuki doesn’t put up a front and say “of course” because he’s trying to figure out if he can change too, so he just says “dunno” but its so sincere and hopeful. i love the dichotomy of kazuki not knowing if he can change because he’s spent the past 4 years trying not to and rei not knowing if he can change because he doesn’t know how to. at the root, it’s because they both see themselves as unforgivable.

continuation of points six and eight, rei smiles when he’s home with his family.

oh my god the angst just doesn’t stop.

#meepmoop #buddy daddies #kazuki kurusu #rei suwa #miri unasaka #kazurei #my roommate is behind me pregaming with her friends and im writing an organized list of major plot points of the anime im obsessed with #good news i found food and i have energy to blog now!#my hp is at 100 now fr #this is my longest post ever #no ones gonna read this but i wanted to write it

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catfern · 8 months

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she will destroy you.

pairing: abby anderson x afab!reader

music: crack baby or bag of bones ( or anything from puberty 2 ) - mitski

word count: 3.3k (i'm exhausted)

summary: rumours are swirling, fighting their way through your front door. you hope to keep your work and private life separate, but your proximity with your boss threatens to catch up with you.

warnings: mean!toxic!abby, cheating, porn with a LOT of plot, swearing, tipsy sex, fingering, oral (r!receiving), zero ( i mean ZERO ) aftercare, angst-ish

an: a quick intermission from cowboy!ellie because LORD. i read one page from one book abt a butch teacher yearning for the headmaster's wife and suddenly I NEED AFFAIRS!! I NEED YEARNING!! I NEED SECRECY!! and who better to do that with than a rlly mean ceo!abby who has a PhD in fucking bitches.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Shit.”

A line of scarlet trickles onto the warm printer paper and settles. You drop your paperwork on an unknown desk and suck your finger, hissing through your teeth at the sting. Your phone buzzes impatiently in the back pocket of your work pants, and you fumble with your non-bleeding fingers to pull it out.

we’ll talk abt this when u get home

see u after ur party i guess

A shit fucking day.

You hall back to your desk, defeat slumping heavy on your shoulders. The Office makes an effort not to stare as you walk by, low whispers hot on your feet like coals in a firewalk. You pretend very poorly not to see the half-lidded, secretive looks shared between your old work friends by the water cooler. Water off a duck’s back, your mom used to say in a nonchalant way when you cried to her about mean girls at school. Not that you ever really knew what that meant.

You were never really thankful to be shut off from the rest of the cubicles, until now. A fortress of frosted glass and a heavy door, your desk was the secluded gateway to a place dreaded. Just you and The Boss, which you guess didn’t help the flying tongues of the old, bored fucks in accounting, but it kept people away. Away from you, with their knowing looks and unknowing laughs.

You huff, settling into your uncomfortable desk chair and digging out a small first aid kit your dad bought you when you first started. Pulling the seal off the small tin, you eye its contents. Disinfectant, thermometer, some loose aspirin and bandaids. You whine lightly as you wrap one tightly around your ring finger, feeling it throb and pulse, like a complaint. Get over yourself, you tell your body.

A sharp - ahem - breaks through your mumbling silence. She’s never sick, she never coughs. It’s a bodiless beckoning, a call into the wild, it’s the wordless agreement you have with her. You pick up your notebook, and the nearest working pen, and shuffle quickly through the open door into her office.

The opaque shades are drawn, the natural light greying and dying on the dark, decaying herringbone floor.

Abby is bathed in the orange light of her desk lamp. With impeccable, almost effortless posture, she’s resting her forearms on her desk, one hand scratching notes into her diary, the other distractedly tapping on the leather top. You follow the shadows that the folds in her dress shirt create, your eyes falling on the contour of her body.

You know she frequents a few gyms. You’re the one who schedules late night international calls around her evening runs, and her weights sessions, and her triweekly spin class. But now, the results of her efforts are on display, tightly wrapped in expensive cotton, perfectly tailored, down to the very last stitch, to her existence. You swallow an uncomfortable feeling when she deigns to meet your eye.

She looks you over in the way she always does, an uncaring, but judgemental once-over, like an army sergeant inspecting a uniform. she hones in on the bandaid,

“Workplace injury?”

Her voice has the warmth of a dying cigarette, rolling like well-spoken honey off her lips. You almost feel ashamed, your finger so offensive to her you could chop it off. You almost feel like you wouldn’t even mind. You start picking at the ends of the bandaid with your thumb.

“Paper cut.” Your voice is always so out of place here. An echo of something that does not belong. She nods her head, ever so slightly, as if she understood.

“Don’t think you can go claiming compensation for that.” It’s a joke you’re not allowed to laugh at. You smile lightly instead. It’s short-lived, “I need you to correct some seating arrangements for tonight.”

Yes, of course. No problem. In wordless agreement, Abby starts listing off adjustments, complaints and warnings from guests about not being seated next to their five ex-husbands, or their whining step-children, or ex-business partners fallen from grace. your pen fingers begin to ache as the whole process draws out.

“And I’m going to need you seated at my table, to keep track of my evening itinerary.”

Uncertainty quickly sows its seeds in your stomach. The unopened messages from your girlfriend burn their way through pocket, searing at your legs like a brand on cattle. Everyone knows, everyone will know. Every detail of your life will be laid bare, and you’ll be tried publicly and without mercy. Your bandaid begins to unravel as you rub anxiously at the glue underneath.

You need to do something, something to get things back under control.

“Actually,” You start, unsure. Abby meets your eye quickly, without hesitation, “I don’t think I’ll be able to make it tonight.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” It’s quick, and condescending. Undercutting any sudden courage you may have had, she meets your eye and stares you down, pinning you under ice, almost imploring you to feel terrified. And then she looks away, busy packing away the seating chart, and you wonder if she even looked at you at all.

She stands, and you try to meet her, your hands clutching your notebook.

“Your attendance tonight is mandatory.” She says it slowly, harshly, like it’s hard for you to understand. Her eyes chase quickly over your outfit, “It’s a black tie event.”

You’re left alone in a dark office, hyperventilating.

The apartment is empty and cold when you arrive home. 7 unanswered texts to your girlfriend tell you she doesn’t want you near her, but she isn’t packed. You expect her to come home, hopefully in the hour you have before you have to go again, and you contemplate just blowing the gala off to wait.

Abby’s voice is sharp in your head, a familiar dedication wringing your body. You can’t leave her. She needs you there.

You put off the conversation with your girlfriend into the furthest parts of your mind, allowing yourself to be swallowed in the minor decisions of clothes and hair and accessories. It’s not until you’re throwing your shoes on, and three times you think you hear her keys in the door, that you give up.

The phone rings 5 times before going to voicemail.

Hey. Listen. I know we said we weren’t going to talk until we were face to face but..

Whatever Maria told you wasn’t true, okay? I promise-I fucking promise you, nothings happened. Baby, okay? People are fucking bored, and I love you, so so much. I’ve gotta go to this one thing tonight - i tried to get out of it i swear -, and i’ll come home and we can talk, and we can fix this. Okay? Jus-Just, gimme some time to explain. Okay. I love you. Bye.

Echoes of quiet chatter uncomfortably ebb and flow off the walls of the ballroom. Too many people. Shoes scuff the cheap marble as the rich make their rounds, with light touches and reused laughter. They all hate each other.

Abby is a familiar sight. Wearing the same thing she has all day, she looks staggering. Hands just breaching her suit pockets, comfortably falling at her side, her hair in a calculated braid, designed to make her look approachable.

The air here agrees with her, her smile wide and effortless. You know she’s come straight from a meeting, and you suppose that adds to her charm. The Working Woman, a success story. Her rich friends, who spend their inheritances on shares and indoor tennis courts, lap it up. She’s a foreign object, something unfamiliar and wild.

You don’t interrupt, skimming the sidelines to get to your table. You can feel her glance, without substance, before returning to her conversation. Your event planner ( a shitty flip notebook that fits in every small clutch you own ) sits on the tablecloth at your seat, and you wait. Eyeing the glasses at the placemats next you, you can tell a few drinks has been shared, raking your eyes over Abby’s looser disposition.

She’s happy, and charming. She’s been drinking bourbon. Mint, with ice and syrup, the way you serve it to her in her office, when the occasion calls for celebration.

Her conversation finishes, her soft hands bidding gentle, kind goodbyes to the couple as they move on. She’s a friend to the people that matter.

“I expected you here before me.”

She doesn’t bother to look at you as she sits, instead fixing her napkin to her lap. You watch as the veins in her neck rise and fall as she talks, “Doesn’t matter now. Run me through everything.”

Right, fuck. You open your notebook and run your fingers over the scratchy writing. Your days leading up to this were spent copying details from obscure emails, tidbits you thought Abby needed to remember. Late nights at the office, life abandoned, deciphering biographies and 2 hour youtube deep dives. You can watch yourself fall asleep from the future, your handwriting slipping, long and longer strokes, spelling dissolving, long words abandoned. your pen fell to the floor, and you slept at your desk. Twenty missed calls. You argued when you came home in the morning.

“The Ambassador is arriving around 8:00pm with his new wife, also named Rebecca. Oh, Old Rebecca emailed asking why she didn’t receive an invitation.”

She’s slowly sipping at another whiskey, a different cocktail she ordered just as you’d arrived. The orange peel brushes her nose as she tilts the glass, her jaw tightens as she swallows, “Tell her the venue was at capacity. Send some flowers.”

It continues like this for a bit. Quiet and attentive, she listens to what you have to say, as her eyes follow the crowd. You too, spy people that you know, a few slimy execs that share a whisper and a boisterous laugh as they look your way. You order gin.

Soon enough, Abby checks her watch. An inexpensive, vintage piece of leather and quartz. She excuses herself with a measure of politeness. It’s time for an hour of speeches that don’t matter, before you’re finally allowed to eat. You sigh.

A quiet buzz rips through the growing silence. You open your clutch and hide your phone under the silk tablecloth, away from the disapproving elderly eyes.

i told u to leave me alone

jesus christ

A pit in your stomach. Dark, pressing, ever present. Your saliva is heavy in your mouth, and you feel like shrinking away. Luckily, the waiter isn’t far. Drinks are discounted for the company staff.

Finally, speeches finish. Abby looked nice on the stage, effervescent under the lights. Her hair catches warm light nicely in the strands.

The food comes, but people disregard it for shallow conversations. Plates are taken away full, apart from slim, polite pickings. Your table orders more drinks, and syrupy laughter echoes as anecdotes about private schools and hedge funds are shared. You don’t belong here. Your body becomes unsteady, restless. Your legs shaking, a hand finds you thigh in the veiled secrecy of the table cloth.

Abby’s not looking at you, too engaged in tipsy conversation to draw attention. A nice gesture, but it’s not. It’s wordless agreement. Her thumb traces the outside of your thigh mindlessly, her jaw clenching as she feels your gaze.

You hesitate.

What else did you have to do? Apart from go home and wait for an argument.

You let her touch you a little longer, soft, ghostly. It’s kind, unmistakably. You let yourself revel in it, in her uncommon affection, before excusing yourself to the bathroom.

Abby follows not long after. She’s confident, her position charismatic, not unlike the other times she finds a drink, and then goes to find you. She doesn’t stop, so sure that you’ll follow her trail as you’ve done so often before. But you hesitate, again.

She turns back to you, a look on her face that’s hard to decipher. You stumble in your reasoning.

“It’s just-, my girlfrien-“

“Are you coming? Or not?”

Your palms itch, you swallow.

What kind of sick sacrifice. Unfair to have both, some would say, but some don’t know you. How wicked it is to taste both fruit and have to choose the sweeter. Fuck. The drinks settle in your stomach.

Your girlfriend wasn’t coming home tonight anyway, not really.

She’s leading you up the stairs, hands flush to her body. You grip the cold handrail to hold you steady. She’s already steps ahead, the appropriate distance.

A quiet corner doesn’t need to be found. She’s been here before. You’ve been here before. The holy emptiness of the second floor is an accustomed comfort.

She’s quick and calculated, despite the mix of drinks on her breath. One hand pushing you to the wall, the other finding the zipper for your dress. It falls off you like it never belonged to you, kicked away and piled into a corner, forgotten.

Gripping you like you’d run away, she palms your tits and presses crescent moons into your hips. She holds her head away from you, watching you down her nose as you squirm. Abby has always remained detached, carefully groomed a distance between you that now feels too sacred to break. You long to feel her kiss you, to feel her intimately, to run your hands along her arms and feel every curve, every outline. You’ve needed to touch her since the moment you met her. Craved it.

Abby is disrespectful, impatient. She cups your pussy, still hidden in slick panties, letting the rough ball of her palm grind against your clit. It sets you on fire, and she chases it with a hand on your mouth to keep you quiet.

“Get rid of them.”

You strip fast, in a very unflattering way, you’re certain, and throw your underwear close to the ghost of your dress. She moves against you again, her hand softer as it wraps around your lips and cheeks. You look at her, hoping to see that softness echoed on her face, but her eyes are elsewhere, too focused on the movement your tits make as she holds you against the wall.

Painstakingly, her fingers slide inside you, her hand pressing down on your mouth as you moan around the feeling of her, the intoxication. Your hands lock and unlock, your nails digging at scratching at the wood boards on the wall as you try to balance yourself.

Merciless. She rocks into you, letting you fall into step with her, find her pace, a relentless one. You feel her melting into your core, her fingers curling and stretching your walls as she pounds into you, again, again, again. You sound pathetic, behind the mask of her hand, whining as she leaves, and nearly screaming when she returns.

Abby watches as your face contorts around her fingers, feels you wrap around her. If she feels even a fraction of what she gives you, you wouldn't know. Her eyes remain unkind, left at a distance, but her breathing is staggered. short, laboured. she looks over you, you feel it, feel as her eyelashes rise as she rakes over your body.

You need it to be desire in her eyes. You need her to starve. To crave, like you do. Desperation.

Her hand moves from your mouth, your whimpering breath filling the room fast, the quiet broken. Her pace slows, and you almost rest on her fingers, left to wonder what she’s playing at. Instead, it comes down on your shoulder, still warm and wet with your breath, and she pushes you down onto her fingers, deep, deep. you feel her at the very centre of yourself, your eyes wide as the pressure builds inside you, her fingernails leaving a trail, evidence of her in your walls. She lets your ragged moans echo, hurt and pleasure. It’s an unkind end to things.

You don’t want to let it to end. You can’t.

The distance is broken. You reach out and grasp flesh, firm under your nails. You’re still riding the ecstasy pulse, the heat in your pussy, and Abby lets you stay, holding onto her as if you would fade otherwise. Your cheeks are almost touching, her breath hot on your ear, you hear her for the first time, raspy groans as you squeeze around her. She’s been holding back.

Damn it all.

“Everybody knows. Please. Please, fuck me like you know you should.”

You meet her gaze. Everything is foreign now. Her skin feels different to how you had imagined it. Softer. Her eyes are more uncertain, more than you’d ever seen before. Hesitance.

“Fuck it.”

Whiskey, and a sip of your gin, and tobacco. You didn’t even know she smoked, but you taste it on her like its the only thing she ever did. The smell of pine came in a wave as she moved, hooking her hands under your legs and hoisting you up. For months, you’ve yearned for her to kiss you, begged for it even. And now, her lips are rough, and bloody, and everywhere. Ghosts tracing your neck, unkind, stinging, exhilarating.

She moves you to the floor without fuss, holding herself over you, your legs spread around her. She’s smiling, and you become so sure that there’s something not quite right with this side of Abby. You’re quickly aware that you’ve landed in hostile territory, vulnerable, needy.

She usually didn’t like it when you begged.

Her tongue is like the rapture on your clit, spitting fire through your veins, in your nerves. You feel it creep up in your body, twisting and tightening through you like something invasive, moans and prayers dripping from your lips that only push her. her name a curse, fallen on your body. You feel her laugh against your slick walls and it jolts you.

Abby, suddenly so aware of you, so kind, so attentive, shifts her posture, “Oh, you’re so needy.” A hand grabs your face, pulling it up from the floor in a dead lull. Her name rolls off your pretty lips once more, “What? You beg for me, and now you can’t take me?” Her tone is mocking, “Which is it? Hm?”

A cacophony. You, you, you. Your head foggy, unsure of what she wants to hear, you beg for again, telling her you can it take it. I can, please, abby.

Her laugh is cruel, mocking as her mouth finds you again, sending cold vibrations up your legs. Slut echoes against your clit.

Inside of you, she feels like a god. Her fingers stretching your walls, pressing deep against your centre at an excruciating pace, and her tongue lazily laps up all that you give her.

“Fuck! Fu-uck, fuck!”

It’s clear to Abby that the caution she so carefully designed was useless now. People knew, and fuck it if they knew. Fuck it if they heard you dripping on her fingers, calling out her name. Fuck it if they stop the music, and turn to listen - fucking perverts - because it’s her. And you’re the one begging for her.

Stars creep in through the haze in your vision, and Abby’s trying to ask you something harsh, but you don’t hear it. You’re tethered to the feeling of her fingers, your whole body knotting around her like a planet in orbit of the sun.

You’d burn if she wanted you to, happily.

You’re so fucking tight around her fingers, your legs shaking and a vicious call ripping through your body. Her Name.

The warmth from your body is too much, and the cool of the floor is lulling, soothing, as you collapse. Abby’s fingers leave you empty, incomplete. You whine as she leaves you, your walls tightening around the absence of her. She wipes your cotton slick on your leg.

She stands, and rolls her shoulders. Fixes the few hairs that fall out of place. Guiltless.

“Get dressed, before someone sees you.”

#i'm gonna get back to cowboy!ellie i swear #i have so many people in my inbox begging for her I HEAR U!!#i just needed a change of pace bc writers block yk #idk what it is w me and mean women but cowboy!ellie is also going to be a bit mean i fear #also i was going to write this w ellie as the gf but i couldn't fit it in #but it is implied!!#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby tlou #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x you #tlou abby #abby x reader #abby the last of us

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watcherintheweyr · 15 days

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People holding the "How romantic it must be, to be imprisoned in a castle and made to squeeze out heirs" against Rhaenyra are... reaching.

First of all, the MOMENT she noticed Alicent's expression has fallen, she makes an apology. She holds Alicent's hand and gives her a softer look- because she didn't mean for her malcontent to harm someone, she was simply trying to express why she was so disillusioned she was with her courtship.

Yall forget that at this point, Rhaenyra and Alicent are still fully estranged. Alicent never told Rhaenyra that her meetings with and marriage to Viserys were her fathers plot. To Rhaenyras point of view, it was her best friend, who had only just before, dismissed Rhaenyras concerns of plots to remarry her father and supplant her (Alicent literally tells the NAMED HEIR that it isn't her place to question the plots of men. When it very much ENTIRELY is her place- as Rhaenyra proves when she settles the Dragonstone conflict without bloodshed or battle, in a way Otto could have NEVER accomplished.)- all whilst **being a part of one of those plots.** and we only see Viserys telling Alicent not to tell Rhaenyra after *six months* of meetings like that have passed. To Rhaenyra this looks like Alicent being a scheming traitor, like many people probably proved to be through her life- only caring about her in how they could use her to elevate themselves. And this was her best friend. The girl she studied with, the girl who comforted her after the loss of her mother, the girl who helped to give her strength before she was was named heir, the girl she wanted to fly across the skies with. She felt betrayed, and from her perspective, she has every right to feel so. (And she does)

Then for three years, Rhaenyra tried to have space from the people she felt had broken her trust, tried to act as heir and also to avoid marriage due to the terror of what happened to her mother. She isnt disrespectful or vitriolic in any scene we see- she just wants to be left alone to read books and listen to music, to continue to try and be heir even if she sees Ottos writing on the wall. And every opportunity they get, Viserys AND Alicent refuse to allow her that space. And we know from ep.2 that Otto likely took every opportunity he had to undermine her efforts as heir.

Alicent then has the boy that Rhaenyras mother was slaughtered for, and Rhaenyra is made to witness how the realm salivates for a child to replace her as heir all because of his genitalia. Hiw hard she has tried, whatever she has done or accomplished doesn't matter to the realm. Only her sex. At Aegons name day, Hobart Hightower calls Aegon 'second of his name' and 'the conqueror babe' literally SAYING how the realm sees him as their future king already- and no one does or says anything to correct him.

So her relationship with Alicent is strained. And Rhaenyra doesn't even know what we know as the audience, that Otto is actively whispering treason and conspiracy to Alicent and she at no point warns Rhaenyra or Viserys.

Furthermore, Alicent DID make the comment in the carriage on the way to the hunt of Aegons quick birth. I highly doubt she meant for that comment to come across as it did, but it doesn't change that the comment was a slap in Rhaenyras face, to the point even the maids looked judgemental. And there was no apology or effort made to soothe that sting.

Anyways.

Rhaenyra returns from her courtship tour, and Alicent approaches her. They have perhaps the first gentle moment between them that they've had in years. Alicent expresses how romantic she feels the tour was.

Rhaenyra, who has the pressure of having to choose correctly- because choosing wrong could result in a husband who uses her as a broodmare as her mother was, or in a man who only wishes to use her so that he can have power over the throne, who wishes to use her to elevate himself and would hope to use Westeros' patriarchal traditions to make her his puppet queen. And the options we are shown are.. a man old enough to have met her great grandmother, a child, and a slightly older snob of a boy who is promptly slain for insulting the child. Reminder, that Daemon was not an option, nor was Harwin, who Viserys mocked as an option in ep.3. Rhaenyra KNOWS these men only want her for her blood and the throne and she expresses her frustration with it. She expresses that the tour is anything but romantic- none of these men love her. None of them care for *her.* only her power. Only her blood.

And the MOMENT she realizes her comment hurt Alicent, she attempts to make amends.

Yall will do ANYTHING to make her seem like this spoiled rotten, nasty princess.... except pay attention to context and the reality of Rhaenyras position and nature.

#rhaenyra targaryen #pro rhaenyra targaryen #anti team green #anti team green stans #in defense of rhaenyra targaryen #anti alicent hightower stans #not anti alicent for once bc i may not like her but i do feel for her in many moments #pro rhaenyra #pro team black #team black

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harleehazbinfics · 3 months

Text

Home is where my heart is.

Chapter 4: Family Table of Contents | Profile

Word Count: 2000+ A/N: WHERE ALREADY AT CHAPTER FOURRR AAA this concludes the life they had while they were human, but we'll still have a few flashbacks to see cuz plot. also thank you for over 1,000+ of likes and reblogs that means so much to me that you enjoy my works. i think y'all really liked the devout one lol, i'll just say now that i have plans to make it about lucifer so if you're into that please expect more and hit follow, really helps when peeps comment on stuff <33 much love, enjoy!

there were so many errors bro LMAO also I added a few paragraphs to this, so pls enjoy my scuff (edited as of Feb 20)

“I’m home~,” my husband’s voice calls out from the doorway.

Wiping my hands on my apron, I greeted him coming from the kitchen, “Al! Welcome back. How was your day?”

“Same as always. It’s gotten quite dusty out, I wouldn’t recommend you and the lil’ munchkin to go out for a while. I’ll take a shower first,” he responded dusting himself off briefly by the door before removing his shoes and coat. Heading towards the bathroom past me, but not before giving me smooch on the cheek and a gentle rub on my swollen belly.

Yes. Miledy got pregnant with Alastor’s child. He slowly warmed up to the idea when he saw her babysitting the neighbor’s toddler and when they both visited an orphanage, albeit to Al’s hesitance, where he saw her dote on the children, as she was also a kid that grew up in an orphanage feeling great empathy towards them. If Alastor didn’t stop her, she would have adopted all of them. At the end of the day, he concluded that you would be the best mom possible out there and gave her wish. Making him very sentimental and missing his late mother, which she often comforted him about.

I sighed happily and rubbed my stomach. I stared at the cradle with much longing, I couldn't wait to see our baby. Above the cradle was a mobile, it was a string of ornaments that were meant to be a toy for them, it was decorated with shells, dolphins, rabbits and a deer—as requested by Al.

I picked up a music box that had our favorite music. Alastor had this requested as a gift for your child, I was surprised when he presented it to me. I didn't think he'd be attached to them as much as I was, but I guess he adores them in his own way. Making a family does make it seem more real.

It makes me think back all those lives we've taken just to protect our family. I wonder if those people had family too? Did they look for them?

I was pulled from my thoughts when Alastor stood beside me, gazing at the cradle as I was.

“And how have the two of you been, my love,” Alastor asked, his hair still wet and changed clothes.

The both of us walked towards the couch, him making me sit on his lap as always after work, where he would rub my stomach and lower back, and even sometimes my chest whenever they get too heavy.

“Been kicking and moving around so much lately. I’m so sore all over,” I moaned as I leaned my back on his chest, letting him massage my lower back.

“Don’t worry, darling. I’ll give them a good talking to,” he joked poking around my stomach.

Giggling and squirming in his hold I cried, feeling fluttery inside when the baby kicked in response, “Al, that tickles! Haha!”

“What?~ I’m just disciplining our child,” he explains himself in a light tone.

“You’re such a loser,” I rolled my eyes playfully at him.

“Oh, please,” he scoffs, “I’m anything but a loser. Have you seen my wife? The most sought out singer in all of Louisiana? You must have heard of her surely.”

“I have indeed,” I giggled, “but I heard she unfortunately got knocked up by some random radio broadcast guy that does his shows in a basement.”

Alastor gasps dramatically clutching his hand over his chest and exclaims, “You did not! One, I own a studio in the city where I do my shows, thank you very much. Two, how dare you say unfortunately, I’m the most highly paid broadcaster. Any person would drop on their knees to even get to be in the same room as me.”

I chuckled at his haughtiness and conceded lying on his chest once more, “You’re right, you’re right, your royal highness.”

He lets out a hum similar to a purr contently embracing us.

(3 years later)

“Abigail!”

A little squeal sounded down the halls along with little pitter patters of her tiny feet as she tried to get away from me.

“Come here, Sunshine. You need to get changed. Don’t you wanna go and see Dad?” I asked her walking to her slowly.

She excitedly jumps from behind the couch and yells, “Dad! Dad! I wan’ta see Dad!”

“Alright, alright. Come’re,” I called her to come closer to put on her little yellow sundress. I took my bag that had all our necessities while Abby tried to put on her shoes that she immediately showed off when she did it all by herself.

“Well done, Abby! Dad will be happy that you can put on your shoes by yourself now. Do you want to tell him yourself?” I asked putting on her hat.

“Mhm! I’ll tell him myself!” she answered cheerfully holding my hand after I shut the door and locked it.

“Alright then. You ready?” I asked her again with a doting smile.

“Yes! Let’s go meet up with Dad!” she replied excitedly trying to drag me with her.

After we arrived at his studio, we went to his office and waited for him to finish with his morning show so we could take Abby to the park and eat at a restaurant for lunch after. She was on the floor playing with her toy doll and stuffed bunny, playing pretend by herself.

“Hello there, darlings,” Alastor greeted with a smile. Arms already open for his daughter to dive in.

“Dad!” She yelled excitedly jumping into his arms, “Are you done with work?”

“Yup. You excited to go to the park today?” he asked booping her nose playfully.

She laughed delightedly making both Al and I’s hearts to melt.

“Yeah! I wanna go now please!” she requested politely hugging her father’s neck.

“Okay, Sunshine,” he replied petting her back.

Hand in hand, the three of us spent the day together happily on our family outing. Of course, it couldn’t be helped that we would be stopped a few times, but we immediately excused ourselves from them to enjoy as much time as we could while we were together, not letting all the disturbances get in the way for our plans today.

Reaching home with a tired Abigail in my arms. Alastor carried all our bags and toys that we bought for our daughter along with a balloon with a smiley face on it tied around his wrist. As he was opening the door for us, he stopped suddenly, making me look up to him alert.

I clutched Abby closer getting ready to run. Alastor fully opened the door and dodged a swing from a brass knuckle to his head.

“Run!” he yelled as he fended off the intruder from getting to us. Abigail waking up from the shout of his father, she trembled in fear as she saw him fight another man.

“Mom? What going on?” she asked, confused and afraid grip tightening around me.

“Shh, I’m sorry but mom’s gonna ask you to stay quiet, okay? Just-just close your eyes, honey.” I requested seriously making her tuck her head in my neck.

I ran as fast I could, reaching our other house that was used for emergencies. We entered together and pushed her inside a bunker in the bedroom.

“Baby, you need to listen to me. I need you to be quiet for me, okay? No matter what, don’t open this door if it isn’t me or Dad, got it?” I ordered her with a serious face making her nod despite being afraid out of her skin. I swiped the tears under her eyes and gave a kiss on her forehead saying, “I love you so much, Abby.”

I left her after locking the door and pushed the vanity on top of the door. Holding my gun close to me and creeping my way out the bedroom to check for any of followers, as I was rounding a corner someone tugged at my hair making me throw my head back.

I whacked him with my gun up on his chin making him back up from me, taking this opportunity to shoot him in the chest twice. I aimed my gun to the window when I saw a sliver of light catch the corner of my eye, shooting when he jumps in through the window stopping him from letting him move further in.

I turned my gun to the door when I heard it open, only to feel relieved when I saw the familiar tuft of brown hair styled in a certain way that I could immediately recognize. I run towards him for an embrace that he returned.

“Where’s Abby?” he asked looking around the room.

“She’s in the bunker. Did anyone follow you?” I asked placing my hands back to my sides.

“None. I had 4 people outside, you?” he said rushing into the room making sure Abby’s safe.

“Just 2,” I sighed rubbing my face frustratedly. “I’m sorry. It must’ve been Alex’s men. They’re getting pretty fucking desperate if they’re attacking from our house,” I snarled.

“It’s fine, darling. That’s why we prepared this to make sure Abby stays safe,” he said assuring me, and giving me a quick peck on the head. Then helping him push the vanity off the door and took our daughter out.

“Let’s stay in the cabin for a while, we aren’t safe here,” Alastor suggested which I agreed to.

Morning come; Abby woke up confused, she then realized she was in her father’s cabin seeing his prized hunting gun on wall. Her eyes scanned the room for her parents and found none of them there, so she slowly opened the door and was greeted by the smell of cooked meat. She found her father in the kitchen cleaning while you were knitting on the sofa. Hearing the door creak, both the adults turned their heads to their daughter’s little round head.

“Good morning, Sunshine~,” Alastor greeted waving his spatula.

I got off the sofa, leaving my knitting materials and scooped her up into my arms, “Hello, bunny. Did you have a good sleep? It’s already 10pm.”

“Mhmm, but I had a bad dream. Mom and Dad where fighting some bad guys and I was so scared that you got hurt,” she mumbled making my face ridden with guilt.

I never wanted my baby to experience this, I never knew that Alex’s obsession would ever get this deep.

To briefly explain what happened over the years, I sang in a private bar where some very important people were having a meeting. Unfortunately for me, one of people there was interested in me. So, I explained to him that I had a husband, but he refused to leave me alone until Alastor came with the owner of the establishment to diffuse the situation. However, it didn’t stop there, he insistently showered me with gifts and letters that I had to refuse each time. I confronted him saying that I would never be with him as long as I lived, so in retaliation his obsession turned sinister, believing that if he couldn't have me then I was better off dead.

Alastor, fueled with irritation, confronted him almost successfully killing him in the process if it weren’t for Alex’s group to look for him and warded Al off. And to this day he’s eager to hurt our family.

“I’m sorry, honey,” I replied eyebrows furrowed kissing her head, “it’s just a bad dream don’t be scared.”

“Exactly, nothing to be worried about. Why don’t you have some breakfast first? Breakfast is indeed the most important meal of the day, Sunshine,” Alastor spoke up after setting the plates, taking Abby into his arms, and placing her on her chair.

At the end of the day, when Abby passes out from exhaustion from playing in the meadow all day. Alastor takes his gun off the wall making me stand up in worry.

“Where are you going?” I asked, holding his arm.

“To finish this once and for all. I don’t want Abby to be in danger anymore. Most of all, I don’t want you to live in fear that we’re going to lose Abby, neither do I,” he reason placing his hand on your cheek.

“Just please... please be careful, Al,” I pleaded him covering his hand over mine.

He gave me a smug smile and replied, “I’ve never lost before, darling. I’ll be back before sunrise. I promise.”

I nodded as he gave me a kiss, as much as I was worried about him, I knew Al could take care of himself.

“Stay safe,” I said staying by the door frame while he waves goodbye, painfully unaware how devasted I would be when he never returned the following day.

#hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x oc #hazbin fotel fanfic #hazbin husk #hazbin lucifer #hazbin vaggie #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor

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flowerandblood · 6 months

Text

The Prince and The Fox (2)

[ modern! • Aemond x friend! • female ]

[ warnings: bullying, mention of sexual abuse, trauma ]

[ description: After the events of her childhood, despite her best efforts, her neighbor and the younger brother of her friend Helaena, Aemond, does not want to know her. This state lasts until a house party organized by his older brother, Aegon, during which an incident occurs that will change their relationship forever. Slow burn, angst, toxic ex-Alys, rough Aemond. This is several anon requests combined into one fic. ]

WARNING: The main plot between the characters takes place in high school. Yes, in high school. The belief that teenagers wait with an intimacy when they are in love in high school is ridiculous to me. Aemond and the character here are the same age. Don't ask me how old they are, in my country you are of the age of consent in your first year of high school and an adult in the last year of high school, so if it is more convenient for you, think about it that way and decide for yourself. In this story, I am not following the trail that they are magically friends right away, but how they become friends and what that even means. I'm writing this fic to give the perspective of young, lost people, not adult women who want to see exactly themselves in everything they read. If that's all you expect, this isn't the fic for you.

I don't want whining about this in my comments or asks. I will delete these and block you. You have been warned.

Aemond + Evans Series Moodboard

This is my first story that has its own playlist, but yes! Get in the mood! Story Music Playlist. Songs used in this chapter: Turn Your Back on me & The Lion's Mouth by Kajagoogoo and Welcome to the Jungle by Guns N' Roses.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

That night she slept very badly. Her parents asked why she had come back so early and if she had enjoyed herself. She burst out crying, unaccustomed to lying, and told them what had happened.

Her father was furious, stormed out of the house and made her show him which boy had nagged and touched her. She begged him to let it go, Cregan had been away from the party for a long time, they had gone somewhere with friends.

Her father said he wouldn't leave it like that and demanded to speak to Aemond. The next morning she appeared, accompanied by her father, at their house, embarrassed, her father explaining what had happened. Their mother was shocked by what she had heard.

She, her father, Alicent, Aegon, Aemond and Helaena sat down in the living room to talk about it.

"What? God, I swear, Mum, I didn't know Cregan would do something like that!" Mumbled Aegon, shocked at what had happened, Helaena was distraught and sat beside her, stroking her hand. Aemond looked at her, some kind of understanding in his eyes.

He felt that she had done the right thing telling her parents about it.

"Aemond, my daughter told me that you stopped him and stood up for her. I am very grateful to you and I want to ask you, if his parents insisted that it was word against word, will you be able to confirm what she said?" Her father asked, and he nodded without hesitation, tightening his lips.

"Yes. It was exactly as she said. I heard him tell his mates at school during break that he was planning to fuck her here at the party." He said in shame, lowering his gaze, his mother shaking her head in disbelief, slapping her hands on her thighs in a gesture of helplessness and rage.

"And you kept silent?" She asked with disappointment and pain. He pressed his lips together and swallowed hard, overwhelmed apparently by remorse.

She felt her stomach tighten at the thought that he really hadn't meant to stop then, that he could have done something much worse to her.

Aemond lifted a gaze full of pain and shame at her.

"I-I thought he was just bragging to his mates and... I don't know, that you're into each other. That maybe you want this too. That he's actually a good guy and wouldn't do anything to you against your will. But when I saw your face when he started touching your thigh on the couch, that look of discomfort, I…" He said in a slightly trembling voice and paused, looking her straight in the eye.

She swallowed hard, understanding what he wanted to say.

He didn't expect it from him either.

She nodded, feeling warm in her heart nonetheless at the thought that he had followed them out to see if anything would happen to her.

If he would hurt her.

She covered her face with her hand, her father put his arm around her and stroked her tenderly.

"It's good that you spoke about it, sweetheart. You can't leave it like that." Alicent said, nodding her head. Suddenly she clapped her hands as if she remembered something.

"The cameras! Our security company keeps footage for 48 hours. We also have one in the garden in case of a break-in, why don't I call them and ask them to send us the video from yesterday? We'll check if we can see anything on it." She suggested, her father said it was an excellent idea.

She lowered her head, terrified that her father and others would be able to see it, that perhaps on the video it wouldn't look like sexual assault at all.

After all, she had hugged him herself.

They waited impatiently by Alicent's laptop, sitting down and glancing at her inbox, the security company employee who was in charge of her equipment said he would try to send her the footage within fifteen minutes.

They all flinched and moved closer as a new message appeared with a video file. She swallowed loudly, terrified, ashamed, feeling a tightening in her stomach and throat, afraid that it didn't look at all like she said it did, that everyone would think she was lying, that they would never believe her again.

She felt herself shaking, her knee moving up and down in an involuntary tic. She shuddered when she heard someone put a chair next to her, Aemond sat down touching her with his knees and shoulders, placing his elbows on the table, leaning over the monitor.

"It was about ten o'clock at night, Mum. I remember because by the time I left the clock was striking the hour in the living room." He said lowly, and Alicent quickly ran the cursor to that hour and turned on the accelerator a few times.

"Oh okay, mum, it's them, I can see Cregan!" Said Aegon, leaning between them, turning off the acceleration. Alicent pressed the spacebar, stopping the video.

"Do you want everyone to watch this?" She asked her quietly. She looked around and thought, in essence, that she recognised that these were people she trusted, who she hoped cared about her.

She nodded, swallowing hard.

Alicent pressed play.

The camera was up high and part of the bench was obscured by the canopy, their faces not visible. She saw them sit down, saw his arm around her, stroking her hand for a moment. She felt a cold sweat on her back as she saw his fingers lift higher and higher, heard Aegon and his mother draw in a loud breath as his hand slid under her dress.

Her father covered his mouth, heartbroken when he saw her hand immediately clamp down on his wrist in a clear gesture of defence, her whole body tense, it was obvious she was trying to pull away, to push back, to escape, and instead of letting her go he pressed her tighter against him.

She felt tears under her eyelids and lowered her head, not knowing where to look, she felt Aemond press his body closer to hers, felt his breath on the top of her head, felt him looking at her.

"− Jesus −" Muttered Aegon in disbelief, running a hand over his face. "− fucking piece of shit −"

Then they could already see Cregan and Aemond struggling with each other, her sitting down on the grass and crying, Aemond crouching down beside her and putting his arms around her, saying something to her.

The footage had no sound, but what could be seen on it was enough to clearly understand what had happened.

Her father got up and said he needed to get some air for a while and smoke a cigarette. Alicent followed him out, apparently wanting to work out what they were going to do, whether to report it to the police or not.

She felt Helaena's warm embrace, felt her lay her head on her shoulder and hugged her immediately, Aegon and Aemond looked at them in silence.

"− I'm sorry − fuck − if I had known, I would never have invited him! − I saw you two cuddling on the couch in the living room, but God, I thought you two were just in love − that, I don't know, you're together, just unofficially yet −" He mumbled, and she swallowed loudly, rubbing her eyes, trying to pull herself together.

"− please, Aegon − it's not your fault − you didn't do anything wrong − don't worry, I won't tell anyone about the alcohol −" She said quietly, tiredly, and he sighed heavily, scratching his head, clearly distraught that something like this had happened at his own party.

Aemond said nothing, fiddling with his mug of already half-cold coffee, it seemed to her that he hadn't slept well that night either.

Her father had decided that they would drive with this recording to his parents.

She was horrified.

"I will go with you." Aemond said, and her father nodded.

They drove there together in their car with Alicent's laptop. They sat side by side in the back seat, she saw that he was pulling at the cuticles around his fingernails again, she noticed with pain that he had actual wounds around them.

When he saw in the reflection in the window that she was looking at him he stopped immediately and swallowed loudly, lowering his gaze.

He was stressed too.

When they arrived a surprised Mrs Stark opened the door for them, asking who they were and what had happened.

"I would like to talk to you about your son."

She, Aemond and her father sat on the couch on one side and Cregan and his parents on the other as her father played them the video. Cregan was pale, sitting with his arms folded, feigning indifference, his knee shaking restlessly, he was biting his lower lip, his eyes red.

He was terrified.

His mother made big eyes when she saw the moment he slipped his hand under her dress and looked at him with disbelief mixed with pain. His father snorted, shrugging his shoulders.

"And what, are you going to go to the police? Destroy a young boy's life because he made a mistake, because his hormones are raging?" He asked as if it was a trivial matter, a complete nothing. She felt the rage surge in her father.

"Because of your son's hormones, he can act like a mindless monkey and grope girls who don't want him to?" He hissed, his father raising his eyebrows, pointing at her with his hand.

"Please, forgive me, but from what I can see in this video your daughter was pushing herself into his arms, after all he could have misunderstood her…"

"Mark." Said his wife, clearly not believing what she was hearing, pale.

Her father stood up, pointing his finger at her.

"My child came home crying because someone molested her. He only stopped because her classmate went out into the garden. And what would your son do if no one helped her, hm? How long would he hold her while she tried to break free?" He thundered furiously on the verge of tears, she had never seen him like this before.

She just sat on the couch, looking at her shoes, shaking all over, feeling that her biggest nightmare had just taken place in front of her eyes.

Please, forgive me, but from what I can see in this video your daughter was pushing herself into his arms.

Mr Stark raised his hands in a defensive gesture as if to show that his aim was not to argue or escalate the conflict.

"I admit, my son acted unwisely. He misread the girl's signals and behaved badly. We will be watching him more closely in this area. Is that all?" He asked, and her father closed the laptop with a loud slam and growled to them that they were leaving.

She stood up and cast one last look in Cregan's direction, he was looking at her with a hatred she had never seen in her life before.

She burst into sobs as soon as they got into the car, her father comforting her loudly telling her not to cry, that they were driving to the police station.

"No, no, please, no!" She whimpered, leaning forward, grabbing his arm, her father looked at her in the mirror.

"What?"

"I can't do it, I can't do it anymore. I… stop, I think I'm going to throw up." She mumbled, her father stopped with a squeal of tyres. She got out and immediately vomited on the grass, coughing and crying, feeling her stomach convulse in pain.

She heard them both get out of the car, her father put his arms around her saying that everything would be fine, Aemond stood beside them not knowing what to do with himself, not knowing how to behave.

The next few days at school were extremely difficult for her. Some of her friends and acquaintances were shocked and horrified, giving her their complete support and understanding, saying they were disappointed by Cregan's behaviour.

However, others thought that she was simply lying.

"Attention whore." One of his friends growled, hitting her on the shoulder with his arm as he walked past her.

She saw that someone had scratched the word 'liar' on her locker standing in the corridor. She looked at it indifferently, then opened it as if nothing had happened and exchanged the books she needed with the ones she could put away.

This time he was the one looking at her.

She felt his gaze on her back in the classroom, in the corridor, as she sat at the bus stop looking at her shoes.

For some reason, even though she was alive and everything was going on, she felt dead.

She couldn't erase his touch from her mind.

She sat on the bus in total reverie, occupying the seat at the back by the window, sitting in her earphones, listening recently to nothing but Kajagoogoo songs, 'Too shy', 'Turn Your Back On Me', 'Ooh to Be Ah', 'The Lion's Mouth' looped on her player.

Their electronic sound and the wonderful bass guitar in the background energised her when she had no strength and couldn't rouse herself.

She had just listened to 'Turn Your Back On Me' for the second time since the morning when she felt someone sit down next to her.

She glanced to the side and spotted a black sweatshirt, familiar hands clicking something on his phone, apparently pausing the song he had just listened to on his player, she saw that it was 'Welcome to the Jungle' by Guns N' Roses. She pulled down one earpiece, looking at him in surprise.

"What are you listening to?" He asked, pulling on the cord of his black earphones, which dropped gently onto his lap with a quiet click.

She handed him her earphone, which he took from her, placing it in his left ear, moving a little closer to her so that there was enough cable for both of them. He mused, listening.

"Interesting." He muttered lowly, glancing at her player.

"Kajagoogoo." She said quietly, going into the track list so he could see what their songs were called.

"Nice bass." He admitted, as if surprised by this discovery himself. She nodded and closed her eyes, resting her temple against the glass, just sinking into the sound of the music.

He listened to the songs of her favourite band with her until they reached the school.

When the bus stopped he handed her back her earpiece, their hands touched. They looked at each other, for the first time so closely. He picked up his backpack and rose, trying not to hit his head on the low ceiling and walked out in front of her, no longer paying attention to her.

She walked through the corridor of her school listening to "The Lion's Mouth", trying not to pay attention to whether anyone was looking at her or not, focusing on the words of the song, staring blankly ahead.

Hey fool watch out! (Watch out) You'll get mauled by the lion's mouth -

Hey fool watch out! (Watch out) You'll get mauled by the lion's mouth (I don't think so) -

Hey fool watch out! (Watch out) You'll get mauled by the lion's mouth -

The music suddenly stopped when someone tripped her up. She wobbled and fell over, collapsing on the floor, her earphones falling out of her ears. She lifted herself up on her arms and turned over her shoulder, noticing Cregan's hateful stare.

A moment later, several things happened at the same time. Aemond who threw him to the floor, pounding his face with his fist, holding his sweatshirt, growling that he was a fucking piece of shit, a mere abuser, a nobody, a zero.

His colleagues and teachers had to separate them, Cregan spat blood on the floor.

She felt someone grab her shoulders, Helaena stood over her, looking at her in horror.

"Are you all right?"

She sat in her classroom terrified, glancing anxiously over her shoulder at the empty seat in the bench he sat in, knowing that he and Cregan had ended up at the headmaster's office.

That he was in trouble because of her, that he could be suspended because of her.

She shuddered when she heard the sound of the door opening and saw him step inside, the teacher paused his reasoning for a moment and grunted, returning to the subject of the lesson.

Aemond walked over to his bench without a word, not looking at her, and sat down in his chair, pulling off his backpack, taking out his textbooks and notebook, giving her one calm look.

She pulled her phone quickly from her sweatshirt pocket, reminding herself that she had his phone number, and quickly texted him.

She heard his phone vibrate on his bench. She sat looking ahead, feeling her heart pounding hard.

After a moment, the display of her phone lying on her thighs lit up and she saw that she had received a new message. She opened it quickly, feeling a tightness in her throat.

She turned towards him over her shoulder, his lips curving into a grin. She smiled gratefully at him and breathed quietly, turning ahead, trying to finally focus on what her teacher was talking about.

Boarding the bus after class, she dared to sit next to him. They looked at each other, he watched as she untangled her earphones and plugged them into her phone. She saw him pull his own off and pause his player.

"Are you going to listen to that band with weird name again?" He asked lowly and she nodded, smiling at him.

He held out his hand to her and she handed him her earpiece, this time with her left hand, turning on 'The Lion's Mouth'.

"This is my favourite." She admitted with a smile, feeling calm for some reason, her stomach filled with warmth.

"Mmm." He hummed, their elbows resting against each other lying on their armrest, however neither of them seemed to mind.

She understood then.

The Little Prince took a step towards the Fox of his free will.

She smiled under her breath.

He wanted her to tame him.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy

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josephquinnswhore · 1 year

Note

Hii, I'm new here and loving everything you wrote xD

can I request one pedro x reader in which they meet each other at a party or sth but reader is in a relationship with someone else (famous or not, it doesn't matter) but pedro gets mesmerized and it's pretty much love at first sight on his part and he acts respectfully but yet very flirty saying one day they'll be together and reader will be his and some months or a year or so later they meet again by chance and reader is now single and also sure pedro forgot about her but he didn't and they just flirt again and there's a sparkle there, it could end on smut or not, it's up to you! Thanks 💖

I’ll Wait For Love

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x female reader.

Summary: Pedro waits for you after a love at first sight moment with you.

Word Count: 4.6k

Content Warning: reader has a dirtbag boyfriend, abusive relationship, he threatens to off himself. (Reader is oblivious). Use of whore, hooker etc. Foul language, getting drunk. Bit of spice at the end but nothing actually happens.

Note: thank you for requesting this, I went overboard I’m sorry 😭😭😭🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 I decided to change things up a bit to go with the plot I hope that’s okay!!

“You’re not wearing that. You look like a cheap hooker, go change now.” You frown at the comment, liking how the dress sits on you, but you know better to argue, Ben, your new found boyfriend of a few months was sensitive on topics like this; what you’re allowed to wear, but you thought it was sweet, it means he cares about you right? Plus you were his, your body wasn’t meant for wondering eyes.

“Sure hun. Do you want to pick out something nice and I’ll change?” You start to kick of your heels and unzip the knee high silver dress, approaching the mirror in your bedroom, you take a look at yourself and decide he’s right, it’s not the right outfit, you do look cheap.

“Put this on.” He had pulled out a floor length gown, navy blue in colour and it had mesh long sleeves, and a high neckline, it kind of felt suffocating but you didn’t argue. “Zip me up?” He does, his hands feel like fire on your skin, and like a flame you try not to flinch at the warmth on your cool skin.

“What do you think?” You ask, twirling for him, holding your hands in front of your stomach, fingers intertwined in a nervous twitch as you rub your fingers together. He smiles, his suit hanging off him loosely as he walks towards you. “You look perfect. That’s my girl.” You relish in the compliment, your eyes flutter shut and he kissed you on the forehead, smoothing your hair after he disturbs it.

“You can put those black heels back on, I love how they make your ass look, but I better not catch anyone else looking.” You’re grateful to wear the heels, not really wanting to wear flats of sneakers to a work after party. You check your watch, you were running late now, you had to get there. “Are we ready to go?” Ben hums in return and slightly pushes on the small of your back to get you moving, you almost trip on the fraying carpet of the bedroom.

When you get into the car, the aircon is blasting in your face, the music is too quiet and you wish you had something to focus on that would take the nerves away. You decide on smoothing your dress over and over in an attempt to calm yourself.

“What are our social rules? Tell me babe.” You knew this was coming, the rules he’d set every time you’d go to a public function together, in which you reasoned, he just wanted to keep you safe, he didn’t want to be seen with a slob.

“1. No swearing or cursing. 2. No hanging out with guys without you. 3. No getting stupid drunk.”

He looks at you with pride in his eyes and offers you a lopsided grin. “There’s my good girl.” You feel yourself smiling, cheeks hurting as you force the grin, all you want to do is make him happy, proud of you.

When you get to the event his eyes are watchful of the people around you, his hand immediately meets your ass as he leads you around like his award winning show animal.

The noise from inside the club is booming from outside, you come across your security guard from work and he greets you. “Good evening miss, sir. Enjoy the night.” He winks playfully and you smile at the tall man, “thank you Simon, be seeing you!” Your boyfriend scoffs from beside you and your smile drops, not wanting to annoy him already, you had just gotten here.

The music was loud inside the club, the lights were colourful and the speed in which they move around began to hurt your sensitive eyes. When you move into the dance floor, a familiar voice comes through the speaker. “Here’s the women that made it all happen, everyone give her a round of applause.” The DJ pointed to you and you flush red, bashful all of a sudden as your work colleagues cheer for you. You wave in a thanks and you’re about to keep moving when your co-owners stand on the stage, baring teeth as they grin at you, the music has stopped now and Ben pulls you to him roughly with his arm around your waist.

“Thanks to this lovely lady, for pushing us to make the game so special to us into a tv show, which has been shown so much love in return and unspeakable success, without you we would have found our new family.” You’re crying at the speech Andy and Jason are giving, and you thank the gods your make up is waterproof.

“We want to give you the pleasure of inviting you back to our VIP area with a few more special guests in our team tonight, what do you say?” The room goes quiet and you’re cheering, nodding yes. How could you refuse that offer, Ben stands beside you however is furious, you hadn’t consulted him, you had publicly embarrassed him as he had not been invited, he wouldn’t be allowed in. What were you trying to do, get away from him? Not going to happen.

“You’re not fucking going in there, I can’t protect you in there.” His hand is on your wrist and you wince, pulling away from his grip as Andy and Jason come over, eyeing the two of you before leading you away, “come on, let’s get this started hm?” Jason stays behind, feeling the first hand anger of your boyfriend being embarrassed, “sorry man, no plus ones.” He held his hand out to stop him and walked off, unaware of the holes Ben was burning in the back of his head. You turn around and mouth ‘I’m sorry’ but by the look in his eyes as he watches the men lead you away, you’d fucked up, badly.

You turn to the men, anxiety clawing up the back of your throat, “hey Um, maybe I should go, you know.” The men look at each other and shake their head, “absolutely not.” Andy huffs. “You’re coming with us, pretty lady.” Jason compliments. That would only get you in even more trouble.

The VIP area was stunning, there was one giant lounge that was in the shape of a half circle, the dark red velvet felt amazing as you graze your fingers over it, a large chestnut wooden table sits in the middle. The people who already are seated, stand up to greet you. First is Bella Ramsey, you pull them into you, squeezing them before you let go. “You look beautiful you know.” You shrug it off caustically, “and you look handsome.” Your fingers run across the blue suit they wear, the blue brighter than your own dress but still looked like you dressed to match.

Next was Anna Torv, her long blonde hair sits on her shoulders, you smile as you see her, you’re both mock screaming as she pulls you into her. Your chin rests on her shoulder, in your heels you’re almost as tall as her without. “It’s so great to see you, you’re looking stunning.” She gives you a once over once she pulls back, looking you up and down before smacking your ass. “How have things been with Ben?” You sigh, people knew things weren’t great but was the only one who spoke of it.

“He’s upset I came in here, I dunno maybe it was a mistake coming at all, i just wanna forget Anna,” she grins, “then we’ll make you forget hun, what’s your poison?” You hum, looking at the menu she had handed you that was sat on the table, “it’s gotta be a fruit tingle, I would die for one right now.” She walks towards the private bar and orders you a drink. The last man that’s in the room and coming towards you is Pedro Pascal, an emerald green suit clings to his broad shoulders, a black turtle neck fits him deliciously underneath, his hair is messy in a way that makes you swoon, the unruly curls and patchy beard have you swooning for the man before he even says a word to you.

“Hi I’m Pedro, it’s so wonderful to meet you again, we’ll properly this time.” You give him a lopsided smile, “it is wonderful to meet you properly. How are you enjoying your evening?” He shrugs, “I haven’t had the chance to check out the bar yet, care to join me?” You nod, “sure, Anna’s just ordered me a drink.”

When you get to the bar Anna turns to you, seeing Pedro in tow by your side, she gives you a smirk and you raise an eyebrows, giving her a look that ceases her action. “Hey pretty lady I was just coming to find you, here.” Pedro orders a whisky as he stands beside you. She hands you the drink and you sip out of the straw, stirring the ice and watching as it swirls around the glass. “Pedro, this is gonna be a great night dontcha think?” He looks at you, actually taking you all in with a slow up and down look.

He takes a sip from his glass, nodding to himself. “Yeah, it’ll be a good night.” The words left unspoken were in her company.

Hours go by and you realise you’re tipsy, you should probably stop now while you’re ahead, you’re sat between Pedro and Anna, the two are up to a whole lot of mischief when they hang out, now you’ve been dragged into it. “So you’re the beautiful lady I gotta thank for turning the game into the tv series huh? Anna told me you’re a founder of Naughty Dog.”

You shrug, your humbleness was something everyone admired. “I thought it would be awesome to see it on screen you know, I grew up playing the game and wanted to do something special with it as an adult. Keep the story alive.” Pedro sits with his legs towards you, leaning in close to listen as the music blasts over the speakers, lifting his drink to his lips as he takes a sip, his tongue licks the sticky residue off after some drips from the cup.

“I actually pushed the casting director to try and see if you’d be interested in the role when I realised you’d auditioned, I just knew we had to have you.” Your words sent Pedro’s cheeks flushing bright red, he runs a hand through his hair at your drunken confession. “So you’re the woman I have to thank for my success.” You set your drink down on a coaster on the table, your hand on Pedro’s knee as you give him a sincere look. “You’ve got no one to thank but yourself, you’re a talented actor and I’m sorry it’s taken the world this long to appreciate you and your hard work.”

Pedro thinks he fell in love then and there, he wanted to pull you into him, kiss you with all his might and take you home. But he couldn’t, he saw you walk in with some guy that’s the opposite of how he looks, blonde hair, green eyes and a slim build, there’s no way you’d find him attractive. He shoots his shot anyway; being too drunk to care about the consequences, especially not the fact you’re literally his boss. “You’re gonna be mine someday, beautiful lady. I gotta have you.” You bite your lip as you look up at him, wishing now for nothing more than to kiss him and let him take you home.

“Yeah sure, Pascal whatever you say.” You roll your eyes playfully and stand wobbly, he helps you up and holds you in place as you wipe your sweaty hands on your dress, Pedro’s flirty and charming personality was taking its toll on you.

“I better head home, it was incredible to meet you properly. Hopefully we can catch up again soon.” You smile, your face completely red as you realise how much you’ve had to drink. His face is unreadable and a beat goes by before he offers, “why don’t I take you home, just so I know you get home safe.” You turn around and look, not being able to see Ben anywhere in the general club area, you’re humming and ah’ing about what to do. “I came here with someone, I should probably wait for him.”

“Actually, your boyfriend left like an hour ago, he was super pissed about something.” Your heart drops to your stomach, fuck.

You rush to gather your things and scramble in a panic that worries Pedro. He stops you with a hand, “hey, you’re in no state to go home alone, let’s catch a cab.” Your heart rate is pounding so fast you think you might spew. “Okay.”

The cab stinks of cigarettes and cheap cologne, a bitter mix that had your gag reflex heaving, you had to fight the nausea of the car rocking back and forth not to spew in the car. Pedro rubs your shoulders as you slump into him, his hands tucking your loose strands of hair behind your ears. “Hey, keep your eyes open for me gorgeous, don’t fall asleep you’re almost home.” Home. If your home was with Ben then why did everything with Pedro feel so natural, so beautiful and seemed to be flourishing already. You sighed, you’d have to go back to Ben and he would be furious with you.

The cab comes to a halt and you open the door, turning back to Pedro, “let me walk you to your door.” Pedro offers, you shake your head, “he’s already mad I don’t-I don’t wanna make him angrier. See you around.” You offer a small smile before wobbly stepping out of the cab into the cold air, it was 12:38. The cold nipped at every crack and crevice in your body, only warming after you had climbed 3 sets of stairs to get to your apartment, the elevator was unavailable to use after 11:30pm, stupid assholes whoever made that rule.

As you get to your door, your chest is heaving, you bring your keys up to the door to unlock it and turn the key, but it doesn’t unlock, you try every key on your lenyard but it doesn’t work, he’s changed the locks; again. You start to bang on the door, not wanting to deal with his bullshit this late, you were exhausted, just wanting to go to bed. With no reply you start banging on the door more furiously, “Ben let me in!” You stand for a few more minutes and you hear shuffling, “you can find somewhere else to stay tonight, whore.” You sigh, “please ben, just let me in.” He scoffs, the sound muffled through the door, “get lost.” His footsteps shuffle away and you hit the door and yell, “fuck you!”

You race out of the building, heels in hands by the time you get to the bottom of the stairs, tears in your eyes and body freezing. You ring Anna a few times, who was by the sound of it, still at the club. She was surprised to hear you crying, but not really. “Hey An, can you come get me please? I need a place to stay tonight.” Your voice is wobbling and shaking at the cold air and the emotions you’re feeling.

“Stay where you are hun I’m coming to get you.”

You weren’t sure how long you waited before Anna shows up, Simon was driving and he got out of the car to help you up off the sidewalk, your shoes still in your hands as your feet ache from 6 flights of stairs you’d walked tonight. As Simon helps you up, you hear Ben yelling to you, cheeks red and gasping for breath. “Babe wait! Wait please.” You turn to him, a scowl on your face as you wait for him to explain himself. “Don’t leave babe please. I need you, you’re the only one that stops me from hurting myself, please don’t leave.”

You freeze, you didn’t want him to hurt himself, of course you didn’t. You were scared it would be all your fault if something did happen, that’s what made you stay as long as you did. Anna steps between you, offering a barrier between you to protect you from the manipulation, “she’s coming with me Ben.” Ben growls when you don’t come to his defence. “I’ll fucking kill myself if you leave me.” He shouts at you, “it’ll be your fault you know!” You’re sobbing and shaking into Anna as she leads you to the backseat of the car. “No wait! Babe please wait! I’m sorry I’ll change!”

Simon shoves Ben as he nears the car, a clear warning of what he’ll do to protect you. As Simon drives off you head the distant shout of, “you’re nothing without me!” You sob and Anna pulls you into her, running a hand through your hair as she shushes you, “you know none of that nonsense is true hun. I’ve got you.” She kisses the top of your head and let’s you cry into her, she feels a sense of pride when you speak through your tears, “I’m done An, I’m finally done for good.” She had never been more proud of you.

The next time Pedro sees you is nearly 10 months after your proper meeting at the work place party. You had returned to work after months in therapy and working on yourself, it had been hard work, trying to reverse all that Ben had done to you. You’d even gone to the lengths of getting a restraining order after he had followed you around town a few times, even sitting in the workplace parking lot waiting for you to finish work.

You looked different to the first time he got to know you, not by physical appearance, but you had a shine about you, you were glowing in your own warmth that had come from your hard work alone. You had been shuffling through some paperwork when Pedro had knocked on your door in the office, you’re met with a nervous Pedro, you have a gentle smile on your face and welcome him in, “please, have a seat.” He sits across from you and you set your paperwork down.

“Is everything okay?” He shuffles, “uh yeah everything’s fine, I just wanted to say it’s great to have you back.” Your heart flutters at his kindness, he was such a sweetheart. “Thank you Pedro, it’s incredible to be back, is there anything else?” You didn’t want to rush him out, in fact you loved his company, but you could tell there was something that was bothering him.

“Tell me if I’m reading this wrong, but I’d like to take you out for dinner, you know, on a date.” You smile at him, finally.

When you don’t reply as a beat passes he’s chuckling nervously, “sorry I said anything I must’ve-“ you stand over the desk and caress his face that’s looking up with to you with those chocolate brown orbs, full of vulnerability which makes you want him more. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask for months, of course I’ll go on a date with you.” His breath hitches when he realises how close you are, you kiss the corner of his lips and sit back down on your seat, picking your paperwork back up.

He watches you, stunned with your confidence and your actions, “pick me up from mine at 8?” Pedro nods, cutely stuttering as he agrees, “right, y-yes 8 will do perfectly!”

“Alright handsome, now get back to work.” You wink to him, “yes ma’am.” He says before leaving. Your heart is hammering so hard in your chest you’re finding it hard to focus on any paperwork. You start to wonder what the hell you’re gonna wear to dinner.

Pedro shows up at your house at 7:45pm, a punctual man is such a turn on. You’re shimmering your dress down a little bit so it sits comfortably, the red dress accentuates your body perfectly, the sweetheart neckline shows off a decent amount of cleavage without leaving nothing to the imagination, your gold heels were sparkling in the hallway light, your purse hanging off your shoulder as you answer the door. “Hey,” he says as if he’s breathless, and hands you a bouquet of flowers, he’s wearing a navy blue suit that’s unbuttoned, a white turtleneck sits comfortably underneath.

“Hi.” You greet, not hiding how obvious you are to checking him out. “You look so handsome,” you muse, taking the flowers and hold them to your chest. His cheeks flush as red as your dress, he takes your hand to lead you to his black Audi, “you look breathtaking, I’ve never felt luckier.” He opened the door for you and you sit down, carefully setting thr bowyer down at your feet, to your surprise, he leans over you and buckles your seatbelt in for you.

It drives you crazy, the smell of his natural musk mixed with cologne and his hair mousse. You have to fight the urge to bite the flesh on his neck to claim him as your own.

The radio is quiet as he drives to your location, the gps interrupting the song playing as it directs Pedro to take a right at the next set of traffic lights, he’s still beside you, looking like he’s fighting himself internally. You reach over and set a gentle hand on his thigh, that seems to relax him as he takes the right turn, his hand rests on top of yours as you encourage him to relax.

“You have arrived at your destination.”

The building was fancy; that was an understatement. It was a large building, what you can only assume are thousands of bricks and large open windows, the parking is exclusive and he picks a spot that he reserved, having to punch his reservation number into the device before the gates opened for him to enter.

“Thank you, such a gentleman.” You compliment as he opens the door for you. He readjusts his suit jacket, nerves getting the best of him as he locks his car as you walk towards the entrance of the building. You feel the ghost of his hand on the small of your back, as if he’s scared to actually touch you.

The interior of the building was beyond what you could’ve imagined, the lighting was dim; romantic. The music was quiet and the building was completely empty; had he rented out this whole thing? Just for you? The first man you meet is dressed in a suit, “welcome, Mr Pascal, please join us at our finest table.” He leads you away from the main area, into a reserved room which was stylishly decorated with balloons, rose petals and two tall candles on the table.

“Oh Pedro, you didn’t do this all for me did you?” He pulls your seat out for you and sits across from you, “it’s too much isn’t it? I knew I was going overboard. I’m sorry.” You frown at him, your hand caressing his own on the table, the silk tablecloth was gentle on your fingertips. “Pedro, listen to me sweetheart I’m only going to say this once.” His brown orbs meet yours, worried about what might come from your mouth.

“I like you, I have for a long time, okay? Whatever we do together I’m happy with. We could’ve went to McDonalds and I would’ve had a great time with you. No matter where we are or what we do. Now unclench your jaw and relax your shoulders handsome.” He obeys you, you see him visibly relax at your orders and he gives you a bashful look, he’s trying not to apologise. “Thank you, I just-after everything you’ve been through. I wanted it to be perfect.”

Your heart aches at his sweet confession, the words stick to your heart like thick honey. “Oh Pedro, it’s always been you sweetheart. You are perfect for me, perfect to me.”

The waiter comes with the first course, you hum in delight at the taste that tingles on your tastebuds.

“You know, Anna was the one that pushed me to ask you out, she knew I wanted to I was just-spineless I guess.” You laugh, of course she did.

“She’s been rooting for us since that night at the club, I don’t blame her. Look at us.”

The second entree is delivered to you, as well as the waiter offering wine in which you accept, you both opting for red. You sip on your red wine as you pick at your food, talking and eating in between bites.

“You know I’ve had a crush on you ever since game of thrones, how could I not, are you kidding. Oberyn Martell was the love of my life as a young adult.” Pedro laughs at that, the crows feet by his eyes are endearing to you. The sound of his laugh is like the sweetest symphony you’ve ever heard.

“He’s everything I want to be, the sexiest guy ever.” You can’t contain the smile that breaks on your lips, “please, have you seen yourself? Every person on the internet right now wants Daddy Pascal.”

The sultriness of your voice wasn’t meant to be that-sexual. It had just slipped out-kind of. Pedro was cut off by the main course arriving, the smell was delightful and tasted even better with the accompaniment of the wine.

“What do you think of the whole daddy thing?” He asks, it’s not a question you’re expecting to come from him. You nearly choke on your food from laughing, you carefully swallow the food, the fullness becoming more and more with every bite, you were thankful the last course was dessert.

“I think it’s sexy.” You deadpan, honesty is the best policy right?! He spits his wine into his napkin, obviously not expecting that to come from your lips.

“I don’t have daddy issues, if that’s what you’re wondering. I just think it’s sexy that you embrace it, like you’re a dad for all the people out there that don’t have a good father figure. I think it’s sexy because I can imagine how good of a father you would be to your own children.”

Pedro watches you, dumbstruck, completely and utterly in love with you, without a doubt you are meant for him. The waiter clears your table, returning a few minutes later with dessert, the last course.

You sit in comfortable silence, you don’t mind that he didn’t say anything back, it’s a lot to take in and process and maybe you could’ve been crossing a line-but you wanted to be completely honest with him about your feelings.

“I think I love you.” He sputters out, “no.” He nearly shouts, earning a confused look from you, “I know I love you. God I want you to be mine.” His fingers are tapping on the table in a nervous stim, trying to draw the nerves away from his mouth and anything stupid he might say.

“I’m yours sweetheart.” It’s everything he wants to hear, you waltz over to him, sit on his lap sideways and play with the curls on the nape of his neck, “I’m yours Pedro.” He leans forward and brushes your lips together softly. You pull away after a few seconds and his pupils are blown out, dopamine flowing through the two of you creates a high you’ve never felt.

His fingers trace the hem of your dress, tickling your thigh which emits a low groan from you, “you’re gonna be mine forever right?” He already knew the answer, he just wanted to hear it. His fingers dance up your thigh, kissing your shoulder as he looks at you through his dark lashes. “Yeah baby, ‘m all yours, forever.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x fem reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal rpf #boyfriend Pedro pascal #Anna torv #Bella Ramsey #pedro pascal fic

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mrs-kmikaelson · 10 months

Text

01| The Tribrid

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x daughter!reader, Marcel Gerard x reader (platonic) Summary: While you're away on an impromptu break, Marcel comes to try and get you to come back to help him face the Mikaelsons who just so happen to be your long lost family (but no else knows that). Warnings: none Words: 3.2K

Masterlist | Part 2

a/n: i guess this kinda fits in with season one, but it's more of an AU than anything. so, it has elements of the s1 plot, like the marcel and klaus feud, the hope plot, but the villains from s1 won't really be present. like i said, AU. but without further adieu, on we go.

New Orleans was a land of plastic beads and festivals for days–a tourist attraction, which basically meant a blood bank. I knew what lurked in the shadows, what whispered through the grapevine behind the music, but Originals... I didn't know they were back.

Word travels fast around the Quarter, but I haven't been there; I was in Mystic Falls, too busy following up on a lead about the Mikaelsons to even realize that they were at the place I started, my home.

Marcel wouldn't stop talking about it. As soon as I got back, I was flooded with information and, as soon as I got back, I could hear the whispers from a mile away. Most reactions to the arrival of such a family were scared, livid, shocked, but I was none of the above.

I didn't have a thing to say back to Marcel, not a thing to say to the people who were suddenly confusing me with Rebekah Mikaelson. I didn't have an inch of emotion about it, not surprise, not fear. I mean, how could anyone be surprised? How could I be surprised, scared?

How could I be surprised by my own family?

"Klaus needs to learn his place." I internally rolled my eyes at Marcel's, basically, monologue, continuing to sift through pages of the magazine in my hands. "He's outta line."

Klaus Mikaelson was always out of line– he had no line, no boundaries. He was Klaus Mikaelson and that was the only line there was, but I didn't say that. When Marcel was having one of his tantrums, I learned to just listen to him; interrupting or putting my own two cents in just made the conversation longer and I only wanted it to end.

"He thinks he can just kick me out of the Quarter, out of my home, the bastard. Who does he think he is?" Rhetorical question, I had to remind myself, holding my tongue. The former king of New Orleans was sitting across from me at a coffee shop in New York. A coffee shop.

He was calling this his 'vacation' but we both knew that the only reason he was here was because boss man told him to leave. Honestly, I don't know why I'm here. I'm supposed to be in a university class, but it doesn't really matter if I can just compel the grade, right?

I was doing psych this time; Cami's always saying all these things to me about how she thinks my brain works and I honestly want to learn how it does. Saying I have a PhD might actually get me a significant other, but, knowing myself, the whole triangle of creatures thing might freak them out.

At least I haven't gone as low as Marcel.

"Y'know, just because that ass is an Original doesn't mean he's suddenly the shit."

This time, I didn't bother trying to hide the roll of my eyes, continuing to flip through my magazine as I responded. "Uh... it kinda does." I could feel his glare on my forehead as my eyes widened at Kim K's ass. Not even being a Vampire gives you that- "And, Marcel, I don't know if you've realized it yet, but he isn't just an Original."

I looked up at him for the first time since his rant started and gave him a pointed look. Sometimes, he didn't think with his head.

Marcel shrugged like he was saying, 'so what' silently. "Tyler what's-his-name is a hybrid, too."

I raised a brow at him. "A hybrid turned by Klaus, and wasn't he the guy who tried to kill Klaus' wife or whatever, inadvertently but intentionally trying to kill himself, and then failed?"

"Not the point, Y/N/N." The fuck it isn't- "The point is that the man is such a dick because his is so small." Gross. Didn't need to hear that.

"Didn't he adopt you or something?"

"Is that all you're getting from what I'm saying?"

I made a face at him, putting my magazine down on the table. "Can I be honest and say I don't get anything from this conversation?"

He deadpanned, "You're annoying."

"Glad you're just now figuring that out, Cellie." I got up from my seat, patting him on his back. "Please, though, go have this talk with Camille instead."

I started walking away, but Marcel only got up and began following me out, making me hold in a groan. God, men, they can never take a damn hint.

"Hey, where you headed?" He asked, but he dismissed his own question just as quick as I would've. "And aren't you supposed to talk to me and help me figure out my problems? You're studying psych, aren't you?"

I scoffed, "Yeah, people usually pay for a psychiatrist to talk to them." Honestly, I don't know why Marcel was here. With a God complex like his, you'd expect him to stay and, y'know, get himself killed. It's not like him to use his brain so suddenly.

He could've gone to damn Vegas, maybe LA, but he just has to come to where I am, right after I leave. He's getting a break from his 'Kingly' duties; Klaus is taking that off his hands, so why isn't he enjoying it and taking an actual vacation instead of visiting me and calling it a holiday? I'm not the Eiffel Tower, for Pete's sake.

It's a power struggle. People like him, came from the bottom and wanted nothing more than to be at the top, fighting against people like Originals, who had been where my friend wanted to be since the beginning of time.

Marcel didn't want to admit he was playing a losing game.

"You telling me to go home, Y/L/N?"

I rolled my eyes. What gave it away? "Precisely, Gerard."

I was just about to make it to my car when Marcel sped in front of me. I looked up at the sky and pinched my eyes. God, he was insufferable. Honestly, it shouldn't have surprised me that he came all this way just to bitch. But what he said next did surprise me.

"Come back with me, then."

My eyes snapped open and I stared at him incredulously. What the fuck.

I rubbed my eyes to make sure I wasn't hallucinating and Cellie slapped my arm. "C'mon, Y/N/N. It'll be funnnnnnnnn." The way he dragged out the word did not convince me in the slightest.

I got over my shock and voiced my thoughts. "You want me to come back because you think drama with the Mikaelsons is- fun?"

He was quick with his response. "It could be." He then snorted. "Hell, I'd love to see Klaus' reaction to a girl like you, stronger than him-" I cut him off with my magic, his lips slamming shut immediately. It was only a temporary thing, just stops a person from speaking for a second, so he'd be able to continue right after, but he got the point and shut up.

I've known Marcel for close to fifty years. Met him in the seventies. He tried to kill me and I knocked him off his feet with a classic telekinesis spell. Since then, he's known about who I am and he's also decided that he's better off having me on his team. Whatever the hell that means.

I usually like to keep the whole tribrid thing under wraps, hence why I got Marcel to stop talking.

I gave him a look. "Klaus wouldn't have any reaction what I am, because he wouldn't know." Apparently, my gaze conveyed my message well enough because Marcel raised his hands in surrender.

"Okay, okay," he conceded. "No one's gotta know. But you should come back anyway."

I can't say I haven't thought about it. I know I can't stay out in New York forever.

I rolled my eyes. I can't believe I'm actually giving thought to something Marcel says. "Okay, gimme time and I'll think about it."

He grinned and pointed finger guns at me, walking backwards away from me. "Think it over and we'll talk about it tomorrow." He turned around and walked away with a kick in his step before he disappeared completely, moving too fast for the human eye to detect.

I sighed and shook my head, the smallest of smiles growing on my face. Ah, Marcel.

I pulled out my keys, walking to my car and thinking about what he asked.

It's sorta odd, I suppose. Considering how long I've been watching the Mikaelsons, you'd think I'd be the first one there in New Orleans, keeping tabs on them, but the only way I knew about their escapades was from Marcel who told me voluntarily.

That was one thing he didn't know about me; no one did. No one knew about my connection to the Mikaelsons, not even the Mikaelsons themselves, which is partially why I don't wanna go back to NOLA just yet.

My apartment's in the Quarter, way too close to the Abbatoir and, according to Marcel, that's now Original HQ. It's too risky, my rational side said.

Yet, the other part of me that spent almost my entire life tracking them, being infatuated with them, thinks that being so close to them would be favourable.

And, like most times, the irrational part of my brain wins the battle in decision-making.

Fuck. Marcel's gonna have to buy me a lot of alcohol for this one.

Walking through the quarter again is like that human expression 'like riding a bike.' I've obviously never ridden a bike, but I get what the expression is meant to say. It's referring to doing something that comes naturally to you.

That's what this is.

Marcel is beside me as we walk past both all the tourists and locals. It's easy to tell the difference between the two. I compelled movers earlier to unload all my stuff back into my apartment so I have nothing to worry about other than getting reacquainted with my city.

The path we took eventually led us to Rousseau's and as soon as we entered my eyes scanned the bar for Cami, who I know for a fact Marcel is obsessed with. But she's way too good for him.

I went and sat down at the bar and waited for her to come our way. She wasn't paying much attention when she came over, wiping down some glasses. "Hey, what can I getcha?"

"The usual." Her head shot up when she heard me and a smile broke out on her face. "Y/N/N?" She put down what she was holding and came around the counter, embracing me in a hug. "Oh my God, I thought you were gonna be stuck in the big apple for a while still."

I chuckled. "Yeah, well Marcel happened to- no, nevermind, Marcel just happened." She let out a laugh and went back around the counter, greeting Marcel and getting to work on our drinks.

"Well, I'm glad you're back," she said.

Marcel inserted himself into the conversation and I tuned them out after that, letting the two of them flirt. Cami probably didn't define it as flirting, but she definitely was.

I think she liked Marcel, but she was in denial about it. I get why though. She didn't wanna fall for a guy that was bad news and she had doubts about him, reasonable doubts.

But beyond the vampirism and ego, I knew Marcel would treat her right. That's why I got up from my seat straight after downing my drink, catching their attention.

"Hey, I'm gonna head out, It's getting late anyways and I still have to unpack." Marcel rose a brow at me, knowing I didn't have to unpack shit, but he should be grateful. I'm basically cupid and I'm shooting them both right now.

Cami gave a little sigh. "You just got here, though-"

"I'll be back tomorrow morning, promise!" I smiled at her for emphasis and she untensed and reciprocated the action.

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow then." Her and Cellie both waved bye to me and I walked out the door. God, I was just itching to get out of there. The tension between them was suffocating me.

I put my hands into my pockets and glanced at the sky that had darkened significantly from when Marcel and I entered the bar. I guess we were there for longer than I thought.

There weren't really any tourists left walking around, only a few people that actually lived in the area. No vampires were allowed to fuck with the locals and, besides, most of the locals were witches, anyways.

Even humans like Cami should be safe walking through the Quarter at night, but even then, if you didn't know about the supernatural while living in NOLA then you were in a whole other kind of danger. Knowledge is power.

Even if you were a witch, that was still risky. And if you were a werewolf, then forget it. Vampires were the only people without fear nowadays, it seemed.

Luckily, or unfortunately, I was all three creatures.

"Back off," My ears picked up the sound of a girl growling. My eyes hadn't found her yet, but my nose worked faster. Werewolf.

Whoever she was talking to seemed to have that ability as well and murmured, "You're a werewolf." He was shaken but then he laughed, "Oh, I'm gonna have fun with you." Vampire.

Damnit, my first day back in the Quarter and, already, I'm dealing with the remnants of drama caused by Marcel. I sighed, thinking it's none of my damn business. But I could hear the sound of that girl's heart pitter pattering and I knew I couldn't just ignore it.

Motherfucker.

I rolled my eyes and strained my ears a little more to guide me to where they were, my senses leading me to an alleyway where the wolf girl and the vampire stood. His back was facing me so he couldn't see me, but the girl caught my gaze and her eyes widened.

The vampire's head cocked. "What are you looking at?" Just as he turned to face me, I ran up to him and snapped his neck. His body fell to the floor with an ungraceful thump and I pushed a lock of hair away from my face, looking up to the girl who wore an expression of shock.

I had a sarcastic comment in my head that I felt like saying, but honestly, I just wanted to go home so I pushed it to the side and gave her a serious look. "You shouldn't walk all alone in the Quarter at night. It can be dangerous."

She shook off her surprise and stood taller, scoffing, "I can handle myself." Oh, for sure, I thought. This time, I was gonna speak my thoughts, but a heartbeat caught me by surprise. I held back a stagger and looked down to her stomach where the little thumping was coming from.

A pregnant werewolf.

My stare remained on her stomach as I cautioned, "You really shouldn't be out in the Quarter on your own. Especially if you're pregnant." I looked back up to her when her arms quickly wrapped themselves around her stomach.

She was a little more reserved now, stepping away from me a little and saying, "Trust me, I've got people looking out for me."

I snorted. "And where are they?"

She didn't reply, instead she only wrapped her arms around herself tighter. I get it; werewolves oughta be careful with vampires in this city and she thinks I'm a vampire- or just a vampire, rather. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and waved it. "I'll call the baby's father now and he'll come get me." She kept staring at me for a few more seconds before adding, "So thank you, really, but I'll be fine now." Translation: please go away.

I nodded at her and turned around as she began dialling. I wanted to get home anyway and I didn't need to stick around to see any baby daddy drama. Since that girl was a werewolf, baby daddy was probably some form of supernatural and therefore huge ego. Entertaining, but could get annoying.

I continued back on the route to my apartment per usual, passing by a few people and a few other neighbours I waved to. I knew all the locals, and I know for a fact girl doesn't live in the Quarter for two reasons. One, I don't know her, and two, werewolves aren't exactly welcome in the Quarter.

Of course, I'm a werewolf too, but no one knows that.

Knowing that werewolves aren't welcome here makes me wonder if she knew that, makes me wonder why she's here in the first place but as soon as my mind starts wandering, I steer myself back, reminding myself it really is none of my business.

I'll probably never see her again, anyway.

Sooner than not, I make it to my townhouse. Just before I'm about to go up the steps to the door, I stop and turn to the side, staring out at all the other houses and little shops. If I walked a little further, I'd make it to the compound that was no longer Marcel's territory.

If I walked a little further, the Mikaelsons would be right there. And should they ever walk this way, they might just see me.

I shook my head and walked up the steps, opening my door.

The Mikaelsons are a problem for another day. Right now, I'm going to bed.

When I wake up the next day, it's noon and someone is calling me. I picked up the phone without checking the caller ID, knowing who it was anyway. "Yes, Marcel?" I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand and turned over so the sun wasn't fucking my eyeballs.

"Ooh, you sound happy to hear my voice."

"Just elated, Cellie." I stuck my head into my pillow and grumbled, "Elated."

Marcel snickered. "Well, good because we have a party to go to."

My head moves up from the pillow. "What?" Marcel threw parties all the time, but since he lost his power, he didn't have anywhere to throw one.

"It's a Mikaelson bash." My breath got caught in my throat at the mention of the name, but Marel didn't notice, continuing on with bitterness in his voice. "It's to show the city who's in charge now."

I quickly got over the Mikaelson name drop like usual and probed, "But aren't you supposed to be banished from the Quarter?" I got out of bed and walked to the bathroom. "Going to that thing just sounds like a recipe for disaster."

"Sure, you could view it like that, but Klaus won't try anything while we're there."

"And why's that?"

"Because the party's supposed to be a symbol for peace, too. We'll be fine. Plus, I need a date."

I held back a snort. "What, Cami's busy?"

"She's working the bar tonight," he replied. "So you've gotta come with me."

I felt a sigh coming on. For fuck's sake, I just got back. I wasn't expecting this to happen yet.

I was gonna contemplate for a while longer but Marcel didn't give me that time. Instead, he just quickly told me he'd be picking me up at 8 and hung on me, making me gasp.

Son of a bitch.

#klaus x reader #klaus x daughter!reader #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson x reader #the originals #tvd #tvdu #tvd fandom #angsty imagine #camille o'connell

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aaizawashouta · 8 months

Text

Call Me Daddy

pairing: sasuke x fem!reader

word count: 2.2k

summary: sasuke always give you want you want, but that doesn't mean he has to be nice about it.

warnings: smut (18+ minors, dni) all porn no plot, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), squirting, dirty talk, mean sasuke, gentle praise, daddy kink, p in v

a/n: i have been feral lately. i wrote this in one sitting. it is not proofread. sorry for any errors. enjoy.

There’s nothing he hates more than nights where you go out with Ino and Temari. Okay, maybe that isn’t completely true. Looking down at you, knees to chest, his dick buried to the hilt inside of you, Sasuke knows it’s the alcohol in your system that makes you like this. A little fuck doll. Does it matter if you come? No it doesn’t, and you don’t care. You always make sure to tell him so. Want to be a good girl for him. Just want him to fill you up.

“Don’t worry about it hurting, daddy. I can take it.”

Sasuke’s grip tightens on your thighs. That’s new. A slip of the tongue, he can tell by the way you won’t meet his eye anymore. And he isn’t having that. He’s never shied away from giving you what you wanted. You’ve just had to ask for it.

Never meant he was nice about it either, though.

“Daddy, huh?” he says, biting into your calf.

Your head falls back with a moan, fingers digging into the sheets. He hasn’t stopped his brutal pace once. Hips canting forward, balls slapping against your ass. Sweat glistens your skin, making him stick to you. Sasuke leans forward, grabbing your face and squishing your cheeks together. His gaze is hard as he looks down on you.

“Do you want me to be your daddy, baby?”

You nod, making his hand squeeze your cheeks harder. You swallow thickly before correcting yourself. “Yes.”

“How badly do you want it?”

The groan you let out is rough, accompanied by the way you bare down on him. Velvet walls squeezing him as if he’d slip out any moment. It makes him hiss, free hand coming down to slap the back of thigh.

“How badly, baby?”

He lets go of your face. “So badly, daddy.”

There it is. Sasuke never thought he was that type of guy. But you just do something to him. Make him feral. He pulls out of you, causing you to whine. He glares at you, tells you to stop being a fucking brat before he’s moving down the bed, coming face to face with your shimmering center. Your hole is gaping from him stretching you open. It’s your favorite part, when he first enters you. Sometimes begging him not to prep you because you need to feel how much it hurts. Fucking feral. He groans, knowing that you taste like the sweetest nectar around. But that’s not his goal, not right now.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?”

“Yes.”

Sasuke smacks your thigh. “Yes what?”

“Yes, daddy.”

He grins at you, a mean, wicked thing. He savors the gasp you let out when plunges three fingers in. wasting no time, he set a fast pace, the force so brutal it made your tits shake. There’s no stopping the sounds that fall from your lips. They echo around the bedroom making sweet music along with the squelching of your pussy trying to clamp down on his hurried fingers with every thrust of his hand.

“Grab your pretty tits for me baby,” he says with his eyes on you, hungrily watching your every move. “That’s it. Tug on those nipples, don’t be shy.”

With your hands busy, eyes shut with the pleasure you were receiving, Sasuke leaned up, flattening his tongue against your clit. He couldn’t stop his grin when he felt you jolt.

“Fuck, daddy, more,”

His cock throbbed at how wrecked you sounded. If you kept it up, he’d have your mouth wide open and choking on him. Oh, that’s an idea. Speeding up his hand even more, Sasuke starts to flick his tongue over the sensitive nub. He had to grab your thighs and hold you down so you’d stop running away from him. He can feel you quivering, you’re so close, but he isn’t quite done with you yet.

Pulling his hand out of you, he immediately smacks your pussy. Your hips rut up trying to chase the pleasure. He smacks it again before rubbing at your clit. You’re almost screaming from the pleasure. Hands knotted in the sheets, hips canting in the air. You’re a sight to behold, Sasuke wishes he could take a picture. Take it with him when he leaves.

“Fuck, fuck, daddy, please.” you’re practically crying and he’s living for it.

“What is it baby? What do you need?” you shake your head, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Have you run out of words already? Has he made you that stupid? The fun has barely started. “Come on, baby. Be a good girl, use your words. What do you want daddy to do?”

“Come, I want to come. Daddy, please make me come.”

Sasuke grins up at you, applying more pressure to your clit as he abuses it. “Oh baby, you’re going to come. You’ll be coming so much you’ll be begging me to stop. I’m going to fucking ruin you like the whore you are.”

Just like that the band snaps. His whole hand is soaked, the sheet underneath you, and the inside of your thighs. He groans at the sight, precum leaking from the head of his cock onto the bed. Your choked sob brings his eyes up to your face. You look so fucking pretty when you’re like this, basking in your orgasm glow. But he isn’t finished with you yet.

Grabbing your ankle Sasuke drags you down the bed, smacking your cheek to get your attention. “We’re not done, baby girl. On your knees.”

“What?”

Sasuke raises a brow. “Did that orgasm make you stupid? On. Your. Knees.”

Knowing that your legs were practically jello, you roll off the bed, landing on all fours before crawling over to sit on your haunches before him. You look up at him expectantly, waiting for your next order. He smiles down at you. Hand cupping your cheek, thumb caressing your cheekbone, finding its way down to your bottom lip. He pulls on the tender flesh, watching as your lips part and your tongue automatically comes out. Waiting, hungry.

“There’s my good girl.” You whine, scooting forward, wanting nothing more than the feel of his heavy cock on your tongue. “Open wide for daddy, baby. Take the whole thing.”

Both hands tangle in your hair. He doesn’t move an inch, letting you come to him. Your eyes prick with tears as he makes his way in. You love the stretch, no matter where it is. Slowly, slowly, you make until you're suffocating with his cock down your throat and your nose in his dark hair.

“That’s it — fuck, stay right there.”

His thighs twitch when you hum around him. Your mouth is so soft and warm, he could come right now if he really wanted to. But that’s not what he wants, not what you want. All of this is just foreplay. Because nothing compares to when he’s got his cock in you and you’re begging him to fill you up, to use you. His eyes roam all over you as he steadies his breathing, taking in the lewd scene that’s all you.

“You’re the perfect fuck doll, baby. You know that?”

Hand pushing on your head, you gag around him before quickly being pulled away. You brace yourself, letting him use your face for his pleasure. Tears stream down your cheeks, making your eyes sparkle. Cheeks hallowed, lips suctioning around him until he can’t take it anymore. Pulling himself out of your mouth, Sasuke reaches down and wraps you up in arms only to turn and toss you on the bed. You’re pussy clenches around nothing when you see the feral look in his eyes. He’s grinning down at you, but it isn’t nice. He’s going to devour you whole. Crack open your ribs and feast on everything that you are, everything you have to offer. When he’s had his fill and he’s done, you’ll do nothing but say thank you.

“Spread those legs. I want that cunt.”

You do so without any hesitation. Sasuke fists his cock, giving it a few generous pumps. He watches as you clench around nothing. “Dirty whore. You’re fucking desperate for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, daddy.”

His eyes never move from your pussy. Open, vulnerable, exposed. He takes a few steps forward, his hard length bobbing with each step. You eye it for a moment, a small one. Not sure what hell you’d pay if he caught you staring. You gasp, body slightly jumping when there’s a sudden slap against your center. Glancing up at Sasuke to see him with a malicious grin. You whine and writhe at the sting of the slap. He just chuckles darkly, relishing in the sounds you make as you squirm beneath him. He moves up the bed, his lips finding their way to your skin. Biting, licking, sucking a trail up your tender thighs, teasing you.

“Such a pretty pussy, sweetheart.”

A squeal escapes you when he drags his teeth over your clit. He’s purposely driving you crazy, but god, do you like when he’s mean. You wiggle your hips as his head dips lower, feeling the warmth of his breath ghosting over your core. You instinctively lift your hips up, exposing your dripping cunt to him. You hear him hum in satisfaction as you moan and buck in desperation for his touch.

“Such a needy little thing” he taunts, placing hot kisses to the back of your thighs, just below the curve of your ass. “You want the me to fuck you with my tongue hmm? Is that what you want?”

“No, daddy. Want your cock, need it inside me.”

Susuke gives you a breathtaking smile, his hand lifting to your face, thumb running along your cheekbone. Your breath catches. It’s a tender touch, a gentle moment. “My good girl,” he says softly. He’s reminding you. This is not punishment, this is worship.

He swiftly moves to his knees, a hand slides across your ass, slapping you just hard enough to leave a red handprint behind as he thrust deep, bottoming out. It’s a silent scream, no sound leaving you. He’s big, so big, and he’s filling you up to the brim. It hurts, and you’re loving every inch that stretches you out. Your knuckles turn white with each rough, hard thrust. He slides a hand up your stomach, between your breasts so his hand can wrap itself around your throat. He loves to watch you come undone around him, and he’ll never let you forget it either. Your cheeks are flushed, pupils blown with lust, and lips parted as each of your clipped breaths turn into whimpers.

“Baby girl,” he grits, hand tightening, cutting off a little more air, “you feel so fucking good.”

You stare back at him, feel as he moves to kneel on one knee, the angle shifting somewhere deeper inside of you. His teeth dig into your skin again, this time leaving bruises behind. It makes you whine. He thrusts harder, rougher until your hand is shooting out above your head, keeping you from hitting the headboard. He’s fully claiming you. Cock punching into the deepest part of you. Your head is empty, high in euphoria only Sasuke can provide you. Words are pouring out of you, but you couldn’t understand what you were trying to say even if you wanted to. Whatever it is he wants to hear. Whatever keeps him close, keeps him inside of you. It’s been so long, too long and you honestly believe you’ll die if he were to leave.

“Daddy, I–” you're cut off by a whimper when he reaches that hard to reach spot deep inside you. Over and over again, you feel it coming, your orgasm is going to come crashing down and you’re ready to bask in it.

“You going to come on my cock, baby?”

“Yes! Yes daddy. Please, please, daddy. Don’t stop. More, more, holy fuck,”

You come on his cock like clockwork, and when you collapse against the bed, your body trembles, heaving desperately for air. Sasuke groans, pulling you up until you’re flush against him. His lips meet yours in a messy kiss, bucking his hips harder until he’s chasing his high right over the ledge with you.

“Good girl,” he praises, letting go of your throat. “Such a good girl for me.”

Your breath is a little ragged. You're sweaty, exhausted, and in need of another shower. You smile when Sasuke pulls out and lays down next to you, pushing your hair out of your face. He leans over you, kissing your lips, your forehead.

“You did so good, baby. I’m proud of you.”

You can only smile at his sweet words. You can’t decide if you crave his praise or his cock more. Within a blink of an eye, he’s got you cleaned up, a glass of water on your bedside table. You watch him from the bed as he starts the bath.

“I can feel you staring.”

“I like what I see.”

He hums, turning to come and gather you off the bed. You don’t get like this often, but maybe you should. One of these days instead of calling him daddy you’ll be telling him you love him instead. Maybe he’ll say it right back.

#sasuke x reader #sasuke x you #sasuke uchiha x reader #sasuke uchiha x you #sasuke uchiha smut #sasuke uchiha one shot #sasuke uchiha fanfiction #naruto fanfiction

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thoughtspresso · 10 months

Text

Theory: 【Oshi No Ko】 will be the title of Shima's movie for Kana

The reason why 【Oshi No Ko】's title never drops the lenticular brackets 【】 is because it will likely be the title for the movie that Arima Kana will star in, the "masterpiece" promised to her by Director Shima.

Most of us know by now that Arima Kana's character was based off of Ashida Mana, a famed child actor in Japan that international fans may know from Pacific Rim.

Anyone think Kana's berets are a parallel to Mana's red shoe?

After getting famous from the TV Drama "Mother" in 2010 at age 6, they tried capitalizing on her fame by getting her into music, to little success. Mana-chan says in an interview that she, "sings the songs my mother wants me to sing". In the years that followed, her acting gigs started drying up.

Until year 2020, when award-winning Director Tatsushi Omori cast her at 16yo in the lead role of the film 【Hoshi No Ko】. Literally translated, Child of the Stars or Star Child, but with the Western release title Under the Stars.

A Child Star in a film called Star Child, hmmm.

This move in her career was paramount as a springboard for her comeback, until she had recently been awarded as Newcomer of the Year in the 47th Elan d'Or Awards.

Note: This image is not taken during the awards

I just feel like I wanna see Kana in this dress too

Coming back to its parallels in the show, Akasaka-sensei and Yokoyari-sensei had an interview with Tsutaya, where they were asked this very question: Why does the title keep the double quotations 【】 and what does it mean?

Many thanks to twitter @aldeberu for pointing this out

Just like how people have pointed out that Tokyo Blade had some parallelisms with the characters in Oshi no Ko, 【Oshi No Ko】 may actually become the title of the film that revives her career and regains her renown and respect in the industry.

I believe that this may be a hallmark event in the plot of the story. Or, at the very least, the reward in its resolution.

Either:

Kana's performance in 【Oshi no Ko】 causes Kamiki to pay attention to her, attempt to harm her, and Kana works together with Aqua and everyone else to thwart him. (In this case, instrumental to the plot's resolution.)

Or, 【Oshi no Ko】 will be the film where Arima Kana's acting is so honest and impactful that Aqua is so moved that he realizes he is allowed to enjoy acting and filmmaking in this life, that he is allowed to love Kana honestly, and that he has the right to move on and heal from his trauma. (That is to say, the emotional resolution of Aqua's arc as our main character.)

Option #1 continues to support the theory that Oshi No Ko the manga/anime is meant to be a story about Arima Kana.

But Option #2 supports Aka Akasaka's tweet "Kurokawa Akane is the child who will take me away. Arima Kana is the child who will bring me back."

A reminder that Oshi in the title is spelled as 推し, which literally means Favorite. Oshi No Ko's literal translation is Favorite Child. It is "Hoshi" that means Star, just like in Ashida's movie "Hoshi No Ko".

So why would a Japanese manga title literally named 【Favorite Child】 be given a Western release title as 【My Star】 if it wasn't about her?

#oshi no ko #oshi no ko spoilers #arima kana #oshi no ko fan theories

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gothicfairytopia · 3 months

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How act two of The Sound of Music might foreshadow Good Omens season three ~

I was reading this post about Aziraphale’s ball idea coming from The Sound of Music rather than Jane Austen, and remembered that I’d meant to make a post about parallels between Aziraphale and Maria. The romantic plot of Good Omens has a lot in common with the plot of The Sound of Music, and season two just so happens to leave off at the very end of act one. So, is there a chance that act two could provide some clues about season three? I find the idea very compelling, so here’s my analysis of the movie and how I think it compares to what we’ve seen so far, as well as what we can hope to see in season three.

In the beginning we have Maria at the abbey, where it is made clear that she does not fit in because she has a hard time abiding by the rules. She also has a tendency to prioritize the natural/material world over her spiritual duties, which is represented by the opening song (“The Sound of Music”), the singing of which literally makes her late to return to the abbey. This has obvious parallels to Aziraphale’s difficulties conforming to Heaven’s way of life, as well as his worldly attachments.

(A fun bonus parallel is in the song “Maria,” when the nuns say “she’s always late for everything / except for every meal.” Aziraphale-coded fr.)

Maria leaves the abbey to be the governess to the von Trapp family, and this is where she begins to really learn about herself as an adult outside of a tightly controlled religious environment. She still doesn’t conform to the new world she lives in, but begins learning how to retain her selfhood without feeling ashamed of doing so. This period is obviously a parallel for Aziraphale’s time on Earth—although the time frames are quite different, the same general lessons are learned.

At the end of act one, as addressed in the linked post, there is a ball where the Captain and Maria dance, and this is the moment where Maria discovers her feelings for the Captain. Although this scene is an obvious parallel for the Jane Austen ball scene, I think it’s honestly more similar to the kiss in the final 15. Maria, mid-dance, stares into the Captain’s eyes, freezes, and backs away, saying she can’t remember the dance anymore. The Baroness is watching from the doorway, and when Maria runs upstairs to get changed for dinner, the Baroness follows her.

Up in Maria’s bedroom, the Baroness confronts Maria about her feelings for the Captain, which Maria denies initially. The Baroness convinces her of her own feelings and of the Captain’s, and essentially encourages her to run away—I’ll get into why in a second. Without a word to anyone, Maria returns to the abbey. This is a super obvious parallel to the end of season two, with the Baroness acting almost in the role of the Metatron by pulling Maria aside and reminding her of her “duty.”

Now into the more speculative side of things, trying to think of how The Sound of Music might offer hints as to what’s coming in season three.

When Maria returns to the abbey, she remains in constant silent prayer for the first several days before being called upon by the Abbess. Maria confesses that she ran away because she was frightened, and admits that she had accidentally developed an attraction for the Captain. She gives her reason for not telling the Captain about her feelings and choosing to return the abbey: “I was there on God’s errand. Oh, I couldn’t stay, I just couldn’t. I’m ready at this moment to take my vows.” This sense of misplaced duty might not be all of it, but again, we’ll get to that in a second.

The Abbess responds with probably more kindness than we’d expect from anyone in Heaven: she says that romantic love can be holy, that Maria needs to discover how God intended her to spend her love, and assures her that “if you love this man, it doesn’t mean you love God less.” With this, she commands Maria to return.

While this may seem incongruous with Heaven’s general business model and something unlikely to be paralleled in season three, I think it’s important to think back to the conversation at the end of season one immediately following the failed apocalypse, when Crowley asks, “Angel, what if the Almighty planned it like this, all along? From the very beginning?” People joke about God trying to set them up from the beginning of time, but I don’t know that it necessarily has to be a joke. The question of God’s ineffable plan is a constant throughout the series—the whole point is that it’s impossible to say what exactly God intends.

This is the exact same conflict Maria faces in the scene with the Abbess. When she objects to returning, she says, “But I pledged my life to God, I — I’ve pledged my life to his service.” The Abbess rejects the idea that this is the only possible plan that could have been intended for Maria, saying, “You have to live the life you were born to live.” Perhaps there will be something similar in season three, some way in which God communicates the same thing to Aziraphale—that loving Crowley doesn’t mean loving Her any less, that their love is holy, and that the life he is meant to live is not one pent up behind heavenly walls, but rather out in the world with Crowley.

After Maria returns, she’s reunited with the children, the Captain and the Baroness break off their engagement, lots of little plot things. What I’m interested in is the song “Something Good” (which I would just like to emphasize is sung in a gazebo... anyway). The song introduces an additional reason for Maria’s departure—namely, that she did not feel worthy of the Captain’s love, a sentiment that he returns. They both come to the conclusion, though, that they must have done “something good” to deserve having found each other. Here are some lyrics:

For here you are, standing there, loving me

Whether or not you should

So somewhere in my youth or childhood

I must have done something good.

The basic theme of the song is self forgiveness, and the acknowledgement that past imperfections do not make a person unworthy of being loved. Rather, both characters here have felt themselves to be inadequate, but view the other’s love as a sign that they must, in some way, be good.

I love the idea that Crowley and Aziraphale might have a moment like this, because I think it would be massive in terms of their own self acceptance. For Crowley, Aziraphale’s love (and possibly God’s endorsement?) is proof that his fall did not make him irredeemable, that he remains a being who can love and be loved in return. For Aziraphale, Crowley’s love is an affirmation that he can honestly be forgiven for his transgressions, rather than marked forever by them (like removing the stain from his coat, allowing it to be forgotten).

Unfortunately, the movie does not end with their marriage—they still have to escape Austria after the Captain is called to serve by the Nazis. I think we can assume the Nazis parallel Hell, and say that perhaps Aziraphale and Crowley really will have to establish “their own side.” Maria has to break free of the abbey, and the Captain has to break free of the Nazis. They do this by running away, and I’m not sure Aziraphale and Crowley would ever flee Earth in the wake of the Second Coming, but I will say that it does immediately evoke the idea of the pair running away to Alpha Centauri. I do think that given the “they are bad at their jobs and did very little to seriously prevent Armageddon” joke from season one, it would be a little funny if humanity managed to save itself during a momentary retreat from Aziraphale and Crowley.

I don’t mean to imply that the blueprint of season three is found in act two of The Sound of Music, but I do think that the movie being canonically a favorite of Heaven’s, the recurring theme of the ineffability of God’s plan, and the sheer number of parallels within the plot so far make it a fair place to look for clues. Who’s to say that God’s plan wasn’t hidden in plain sight?

#brought to u by ur local theatre kid fr #i’ve prepared for this sound of music analysis my whole life #good omens #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #good omens s3 #sound of music #aziracrow #good omens meta #good omens s2

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perexcri · 9 months

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fic recs!!

i woke up to being on a couple of fic rec lists and really appreciated it, so i wanted to capitalize on the nice energy and make a list of some of my own favs that i've read recently that i didn't necessarily see on the other lists :D check these out because they have some of the best prose/plots/characterization that i've read in the fandom :] 💜

one soft infested summer (M, 18k+, 3/7 ongoing) by @wheelersboy - this one is perfect for all the highler fans out there! it's got stoner byler of course, a music festival, lots out camping, and some really amazing writing! i started it just for the fun stoner vibes because Why Not, but i'm staying for the beautiful writing and the really complex and delicate relationship mike and will have in this one

Light Sleepers (T, 15k+, 2/6 ongoing) by @helioleti - WillEl-centric fic set during the time gap between the end of s3 and the beginning of s4 that explores their dynamic and their respective problems with mike, all while trying to cope with moving across the country from everything they know. each chapter is meant to reflect a certain stage of grief, which fits so well with all the complicated emotions everyone is going through!

drank my poison all alone (T, 4k, one-shot) by silverluminoqity - mike gets vecna'd and has to face his past self who's ashamed of who he's grown up to be, and my dudes the writing goes SO HARD. by far one of the best mike gets vecna'd fics i've read with such a good take on his character

star eater (T, >1k, one-shot) by @lowlightt - another fic where the writing does not play. honestly if you have a few minutes, READ THIS FIC. it's mostly just a confrontation between will and vecna, but it's so so powerful and impactful. and again, i cannot state it enough: the writing is AMAZING

tell me again (you said yes) (M, 32k, 3/3 complete) by @willow-lark - hey remember when cleradin was like a Thing for a brief second a few months ago? well if you miss those vibes, or if you just like great writing and some of the best weaving of canon into a fantasy au i've ever read, please look no further than this fic (and it's first part, fireball him! (cast protection)). i love this one dearly and enjoyed the wonderful ways Lark wove canon (specifically s1) into such a different setting, plus it was nice to see many of the other characters play a role in the events. beautiful, astounding, heart-wrenching - and did i mention there's an elopement 👀

In Undertow (M, 17k+, 3/6 on-going) by @souverian-are-we - this and one soft infested summer have become my summer byler reads~ when i say i love this fic, i mean you will have to pry it from my cold, dead hands 🥰 we've got estranged byler, jancy engagement with some stoncy going on in the background, and most of the characters still reeling from the consequences of their final battle with the upside down. it's all set at a lake house, which provides some breathtaking/atmospheric writing that this author uses to their advantage. it has some of my favorite scenes i've ever read in fic too, ones that have literally taken my breath away

california show your teeth (T, 77k+, 10/19 on-going) by @fireflywitch - what if the Byers and Hopper families were from Lenora and moved to Hawkins? this fic takes this one simple premise and turns it into one of my favorite fics i've ever had the pleasure of following along with. it essentially functions as a retelling of s1 and s2, gives almost every main character that's been featured in the show thus far a lot of time and space for their own plots, all while culminating into one larger story underneath. i don't think i've read a fic quite like this one in terms of its scope, plotting, and characterization, because there are a lot of moving parts, but this author goes above and beyond. i cannot recommend it enough

all i know is pouring rain (and everything has changed) (T, 3k, one-shot) by @willelfanpage - i think i read this one at the beginning of my workday while i was running some report on my computer and had to go about the rest of my day as if everything was fine ahah :'D seriously though, it's 3k words that pack an emotional punch all while examining will's relationship to rain. the writing is just gorgeous, and it's a character study that i haven't really seen done before, which was quite enjoyable~

Chasing Heartlines by (T, 7k+, 1/2 on-going) @cherryisgone - if you liked Tip-Toeing on Lilypads then may i direct you to its sequel, which features so much pining mike that he might as well be a tree? again, if you like cleradin/fantasy aus, then Cherry my beloved has you covered 💜 it fits so neatly with Lilypads and provides some fun contrast between will and mike~

Touch Me Like You Know Me (M, 15k, 4/4 complete) by @starsarefire824 - this exists in the rare pantheon of fics that actually made me cry. imagine an estranged byler reunion with all the emotions turned up to an eleven, and lots of lingering on lost time and how life sometimes takes us places we never thought we'd go. it's absolutely beautiful and is a classic to me :]

come back to me and forgive everything (T, 78k, 18/18 complete) by @howtobecomeadragon - i saw a lot about this one when it was on-going but am only just now getting around to reading it, and all i can say is why did it take me so long to get to it :') this author does such a good job of writing will and mike's relationship with a lot of nuance and complexity while still managing to make them feel like the teenagers they are. basically, will has to spend every july at lonnie's house in indianapolis, and for this summer in particular, the event is a lot more emotionally impactful for both mike and will. there's lots of emotional depth, the complexities of coming out and/or realizing you're queer, and, at the heart of it, how two friends try to mend things between each other. it's so soft and sweet

that's all i've got for now!! i'm quickly running out of time on my lunch break :'D also haven't been writing as much, but it's been fun to read more and relax a bit. hope you guys enjoy these because they're genuinely some of the best stuff i've had the pleasure to read in a while 💜💜💜

#fic recs #actually that last paragraph is a threat everyone had better read these now or i'll. blow up tumblr #byler #(< intended audience)#stranger things fic

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toskarin · 5 months

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Can you remind me of what denpa means? I used to know what it meant but I've lost the plot at some point. I've read Saya no Uta if that helps.

kind of a long explanation, so I'm tossing it below a readmore. it probably won't answer your question if you're starting from zero, but since you're not, it should help you catch back up!

denpa is hard to define. if you're using it to refer to music, it usually refers to a specific style of "annoying" (that's not quite it because it comes off as negative, but it's the best way I can think of to describe it in one word) often-electronic pop rock with a focus on energetic vocals

when I was talking about Full Metal Wristcut being a denpa band, I was using it to refer to music, but not to refer to the genre described above, which I knew made things kind of confusing

denpa (denpa-kei) isn't really well-defined when it's defined at all, but you can kind of think of it as describing an isolated and often paranoid style of thinking. a genre/aesthetic/vibe/etcetcetc that stems from the kind of feelings and delusions that crop up from feeling isolated and alienated. the sort of stuff really obsessive otaku get up to

you know that weird obsession with staring at powerlines on lonely walks that certain anime has? specifically how that gets kind of distilled down in western weeb fandom into a very superficial "wow powerlines are cool" and not much else?

that's kind of an extension of this broader genre, even if the trope is often stripped of context

denpa stories are generally some form of paranoid fiction, often (and the term gets memed a lot but I swear I'm using it earnestly here) kafkaesque. the entire world has shifted slightly off its logical axis and if you're lucky, maybe someone else noticed, too

there's an unfortunate shorthand I've seen used that kind of does get the point across even though I'm not a fan (because people immediately know what you're referring to when you mention it), but denpa vns, for example, get called "schizophrenia simulators"

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literary-illuminati · 4 months

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2024 Book Review #2 – He Who Drowned the World by Shelley Parker-Chan

I’ve had this sitting on my bookshelf since it came out but, as so often happens, having it just laying around meant it faded to the background whenever I was deciding what to read next. Not the worst case of that (there’s a lovely of Cyteen that’s been sitting on my dresser and shaming me for at least a year now), but certainly long enough for me to regret it.

The story is a direct sequel to She Who Became The Sun, a low fantasy retelling of the fall of the Yuan Dynasty and the ascension of Zhu Yuanzhang to the imperial throne – though in this universe the ‘real’ Zhu Yuanzhang died a starving peasant child, and his sister assumed his identity and his destiny of greatness, willing to do anything and everything it takes to force the world into alignment with it. The book starts with her having lost her right hand, and only gets more emphatic about making her prove it from there.

Aside from Zhu, the narration’s split between several different points of view that fill out the struggle for the future of China. The book honestly does a better job with multiple POVs than the vast majority of epic fantasy I’ve read – every one is a thematic mirror of Zhu on one level or another, and every one has an arc dedicated to the book’s twin fascinations of what it means to be willing to do anything to achieve what you want on one hand, and gender nonconformity and queerness in an intensely patriarchal traditional society on the other.

The actual plot of the story is almost episodic – Zhu encounters some new obstacle on her way to victoriously marching to the Mongol capital at Dadu that can’t be defeated with the blunt force she has available, and she and some collection of the supporting cast goes on an insane adventure to snatch victory regardless. Then every so often there’s a cutaway to Wang Baoxiang (who, among all the other POVs, is easily the one that comes closest to deuteragonist status) scheming his way through imperial court politics in Dadu in his incredibly operatic and self-degrading scheme for revenge on his dead brother. The plots start affecting each other quite early, but I’m pretty sure it’s only in the last twenty pages or so that the two of them actually meet face to face (it is in fact a minor plot point that Wang can’t recognize Zhu when he sees her). It all manages to feel like it’s capturing a whole swathe of political intrigue beyond any one person’s understanding and feel fairly well plotted and cohesive as it comes together. Not that there aren’t plenty of points where you have to just run with it and not push back at what the book’s telling you but nowhere where it’s serious or blatant enough to actually be an issue.

I’m not sure it’s a complaint per se, but one thing that did take some adjusting to is just how, melodramatic I suppose? All the POVs in the book feel very profoundly and effusively, and also have absolutely zero awareness or understanding of their own emotions. This is particularly acute with Wang and Madame Zhang, but in every case there’s just a lot of characters being driven by emotions too large to be contained within them. It kind of feels like a musical, in that respect (but absolutely no other, to be clear).

Anyways, this is a book with absolutely massive amounts of Gender in it. With like, literally one exception, every POV is to some great extent defined by struggling against their position in the gender system of medieval China, and all the issues doing so their entire lives has left them with (Zhu is far and away the most healthy and well-adjusted about this.) Importantly, being oppressed and marginalized for being a woman/effeminate man/eunuch is in no way edifying or ennobling – it’s mostly left everyone involved deeply damaged and full of coping mechanisms that serve them poorly and everyone around them far worse. There’s basically no mention of even the idea of solidarity among the oppressed here – Madame Zhang tortures, mutilates and kills her own maids and her husbands’ consorts whenever necessary, Wang operatic revenge plot involves befriending and seducing a queer prince knowing it will get him killed in the end, Ouyang hates how effeminate his body is and deals with this by becoming a pathological misogynist – even Zhu doesn’t spare much to think about the cause of woman’s liberation beyond herself and her wife.Given the state of a lot of modern genre lit I honestly found this rather refreshing.

As both cause and consequence of the choice of POVs, the book has a rather interesting relationship with normative masculinity. There’s, as far as I can tell, exactly two examples of successful heroic/virtuous normative masculinity in the book – General Zhang and the Grand Councillor of the Yuan – and despite both being really incredibly competent and fearsome on the battlefield and legitimately selfless and honorable, both end up condemned as traitors to their respective lieges (both indolent, vicious, and generally contemptible men without anything in the way of redeeming features, themselves) and dying unpleasantly after being outmanoeuvred in court intrigue. Victory in the end goes not to those who are cherished by their society but the ones who are overlooked and brutalized by it but are willing and able to do whatever it takes and use anything and everything they can to claw their way to the top despite it.

Speaking of – the overriding throughline of the story is what it means to be willing to do anything to achieve your life’s ambition. Being willing to endure pain and suffering goes without saying, and while the book does put its leads through the physical ringer, that’s not really what it’s interested in. Are you willing to spend the lives of those who trust and rely upon you? Sacrifice those you love, or ask them to die for you? Betray those who have only ever shown you kindness? Are you willing to degrade and humiliate yourself, or lie and betray your own hard-won and precarious identity? And once you’ve done all that, and finally achieved your heart’s desire – well, are you really sure it was all worth it? Three cases out of four in the book, at least, ended up regretting it in the end.

This is a book that’s very concerned with sex and sexuality but, like, very nearly exclusively in offputting or unpleasant ways. There’s something like a dozen sex scenes (okay, ‘scenes with sex in them’ is probably the less misleading description. If you come looking for porn you’ll be disappointed) in the book and of them I believe exactly one that you could characterize as enthusiastically consensual and mutually enjoyable. Maybe three, if you count the incredibly toxic relationship which boils down to asking for help dong self-harm and it turns into a sadomasochist thing. Which never becomes/is never understood as sexual by the people engaging in it but describing it is definitely the closest the book gets to erotica. In any event, just somewhat surprising to see so much sex paired with so little romance, relative to most modern stuff I’ve read. Ties into how alienated literally everyone is from their bodies, I suppose.

Also I really don’t know enough about the historical memory of the early Ming dynasty to know whether all the stuff about how Zhu knows what it’s like to be nothing and how she’ll reorder the world to care for everyone is supposed to read as really darkly ironic or not.

#he who drowned the world #shelley parker chan #lesbian space atrocities #sff #tht #map fantasy #book review

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