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#private my sweet sweet innocent child
aphrogeneias · 4 months
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1) We’re having a movie night, just like we’ve always done. Your thigh is touching mine, and my thoughts won’t stop wandering.
this screams eddie omg
best friend!eddie munson x fem!reader + we’re having a movie night, just like we’ve always done. your thigh is touching mine, and my thoughts won’t stop wandering.
warnings: a bit of perv!eddie. a tiny bit. mentions of oral sex (fem receiving) and fingering. i kind of went a little off the prompt? oopsies?
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Eddie can't pay attention.
He should be. Dustin is going to quiz him about this movie’s entire plot, ask him who his favorite characters were, what he thought of the lore. The boy, a senior now, much to his disbelief, had begged him to go see it after watching it himself.
It's not like he's hard to convince. A noble dwarf sent on a quest to save an innocent child from an evil sorceress. His bread and butter. Extra buttery popcorn, chocolate, you. Right beside him, wearing his jacket, feet tucked under yourself as you lean sideways over him, bare knees touching his denim covered thighs.
You're barely touching, but he can't help but let his eyes travel to your thighs, stretching the skirt you are wearing. The hand he keeps diligently on the arm rest flexes, the other grips his drink harder.
This attraction isn't new — it has been here since you started tutoring him on English at the start of his last senior year, and it remained, ever blossoming, every time you were around him — but his wandering thoughts recently grew a mind of their own.
The film’s dialogue and epic soundtrack are only background to his own private fantasy. Eddie can barely touch the popcorn, barely listen to your commentary, as he thinks of what he'd do if you let him do what he couldn't stop thinking about.
Would you let him touch you? Slide a hand over your thigh, feel your skin under his palm. Would it be as soft as he imagined? Softer, maybe. He thinks about what you would do if you let him squeeze you as he wanted, part your thighs with his rough hands, spread you open.
You're sitting in the back, no one would catch you. Would you be quiet as he kneeled at your feet? Would you be quiet if he asked? He'd ask nicely. You'd be good, he knew you would.
Would you bite your lip, taste your own lip gloss the way he dreamed of tasting, as he pulled your panties past your hips, and down your legs? What color would they be? Red, black, white? Cotton or lace? He wanted to taste them. He could practically smell you.
Would you keep quiet as he feasted on you, made out with your pussy like he wanted to? How would you sound keeping those sweet moans back, biting your hand, pouting those lips at him? Would you whimper, would you pull his hair? God, he wanted you to.
He wanted to suck on your clit until your pretty eyes rolled back in your head. Fuck you with his tongue until you cream on his mouth, and squeezed his head between your thighs. Would you let him fuck you with fingers after? Would you feel as tight, as warm, as he dreamed? He knew you would.
“Eds?”
A snap of your fingers brings him back to reality. You're still in the same position, he's still staring straight forward, eyes glazed, mind far. His head snaps to the side, meeting your gaze. “Hey. Yeah?”
“Are you listening to me? Where were you, man?”
You're whispering, a smile on your face. Your face is closer, and his eyes wander yet again, this time to your lips. He's still not paying attention — his Levi’s feel tighter, his heart is racing. His mind must be playing a trick on him, because your eyes are also wandering, to his lips and back up.
“I'm here.” His voice falters.
“You sure?” You don't move. Your perfume makes him dizzy, but he doesn't move either.
“I'm all ears, sweetheart.”
You chuckle, “Forget about it.”
It feels like a test. It must be, because you're resting your head against his shoulder, and going quiet again. Something different hangs in the air.
He's still gripping his arm seat. He's still not paying attention.
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amerricanartwork · 23 days
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RW Headcanon: "Pebbsie Privilege"
Here’s a headcanon I’ve had in the works for a while, and now I finally want to share it! It's shorter than some of my others, but I hope you'll still find it amusing!
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So firstly (and I plan to expand on this more later) I headcanon Five Pebbles is someone who cares a lot about his appearance, though not in a prissy or snooty sense and more in a “likes being the smartest and most sophisticated one in the room” sense. That means, more so than the average person, he generally doesn’t like being teased, ignored, belittled, condescended to, or otherwise disrespected, and very understandably so if you ask me! But it also means there exists a very special ability when it comes to interacting with Five Pebbles that almost no characters have. 
It’s no more than the ability of someone to refer to Five Pebbles as “Pebbsie” while he’s in earshot without getting death-glares from him. Looks to the Moon, who first started using it, affectionately calls this ability “Pebbsie privilege”, and she ends up being one of the only characters who has it (besides Innocence, who in my portrayals eventually gets it too). Though even so, Pebbles originally got rather flustered when she called him that alone, much less in front of others, considering it's definitely a very cutesy nickname. In fact, poor Pebbles really didn’t like being called “Pebbsie” because one of his least favorite ways of being treated is like a child (which includes being thought of as "cute" in any way). This unfortunately happens to him a lot though since he’s part of the newest iterator generation and tends to have lots of uncommon ideas rarely taken seriously by the older models, and this treatment only amplified as he grew more stubborn and arrogant. 
To elaborate on the origin, Moon developed the nickname pretty much on an impulse — quite a rare thing for her to act on actually — of wanting to hearken more to her role as “Big Sis Moon” and show love to her little brother. Soon after she started using it though Pebbles would pull her into private chats and urge her to drop it to save his dignity. Not wanting to hurt her brother in any way, it didn’t take long before she apologized and stopped using it, and basically got her "Pebbsie privilege" revoked. In the current time she secretly still likes calling him that in her mind, but knowing how much he dislikes it she always feels pretty guilty afterwards, despite them being no more than thoughts at that point. While not a major issue in-and-of itself, this situation was actually a small step in worsening a long-time fear Moon has, though that’s a headcanon for another day…
On a (marginally) more positive note however, after Moon’s collapse and the worsening of Five Pebbles’s rot, along with him generally reminiscing about the things he used to have (as part of yet more character headcanons I’ll elaborate on some other time), he actually began to grow fond of the nickname more and more. Yet he also couldn’t also shake the growing heartache the memories brang, as he came to see it as a reminder of his sister’s never-ending love for him and the better times he now regretted taking for granted and trying so hard to escape. While I headcanon he handles it differently in Downpour’s canon, in the worm-off-the-string AU story I’ve got so far, Moon slowly regaining her “Pebbsie privilege” and Pebbles appreciating it and no longer taking it so seriously (though he still forbids its usage in public) could serve as a small, yet sweet indicator of character growth for both of them.
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Aaaand another RW headcanon done! I wanna mention, though, now that I’ve got more of an idea for the aforementioned AU I really want to start posting more of my headcanons for the Local Group, since the character interactions, histories, and ultimate character growth is perhaps one of the most important elements of that story so far. I’ve spent at least a couple weeks creating almost 40 pages worth of character notes, and while this particular one started out as just a little side-headcanon, I ended up tying it into all of that. Hopefully I can start sharing the main parts of these headcanons soon!
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lemon-boy-stan · 6 months
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Hi! May I request a scenario of Childe and his s/o the morning after their first time?
Hi anon, of course you can! I've turned it into a reaction featuring multiple characters because this is really sweet
The morning after your first time with the Genshin Men
Summary: waking up next to your boyfriend after the first time you have sex together. Genre: fluff. Warnings: mentions of sex, nudity (m and f), mention of losing virginity, mature themes. Featuring: Childe, Diluc, Kaeya, Zhongli, Wriothesley
CHILDE
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The sun shone through the window, the light waking you up. Childe grunted softly, "don't leave, comrade." You smiled softly, body still sore from last night. "I'm not going anywhere, Ajax." Tartaglia kissed your neck softly, pulling you close to him. "You should have told me you were a virgin," he said softly. You buried your head into his bare chest, "to have you go easy on me?"
Childe grinned, "to be fair, you can't win all the battles, my love." You smiled and rolled your eyes, "you wanna test that out, Mr. Harbinger?" Tartaglia chuckled loudly, "hm. What are you gonna say when I tell your friends you got ABSOLUTELY RAILED by the eleventh Fatui Harbinger?" You smacked him on his back, "I'd say he totally took advantage of an inexperienced girl. Then, Master Diluc has another reason to beat you up." And Childe gasped, placing his hand on his chest, "you would never!"
DILUC
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It was a warm morning in Mondstadt. Diluc's hair was much longer than yours, and flowed under your body. It was ticklish behind the back of your bare neck. He moaned softly, eyes opening slowly. "M-morning,' he yawned, looking at you with his beautiful red, tired eyes. You giggled softly, "good morning, Master Diluc."
Diluc blushed, his cheeks were almost as red as his hair. "Good morning," he smiled, kissing your lips. "Will you marry me?" He murmured. Your jaw dropped open and you let out a loud laugh, "surely it was wasn't that good! It was my first time, after all." He grinned, kissing you again, "yes it was, but I also just want to wake up next to you every day." Before pulling you close for another kiss, bringing the blanket over the two of you.
KAEYA
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"Hey, beautiful," Kaeya's raspy voice filled your ears, "did you sleep well?" You rolled over to face him, he had been spooning you before. You blushed, "very well, Sir Kaeya." He chuckled, tracing lines across your body, making you shiver, the touch both foreign and familiar. "Come on, honey, we're way past the formalities, aren't we? Or shall I still call you Traveller, hmm?"
You shook your head and he grinned, "I remember when we first met in Jean's office. You were so lost, and yet you still kept looking at me with an amazed face, like you were checking me out. From that moment on, I already knew I liked you. Thank the Archons that you came to me asking to teach you to swordfight properly, huh? Who knows if we would even interact privately if it weren't for that," he brushed away a loose strand of your hair. You shoved your head into his neck, "Archons! Don't remind me! I was so innocent and desperate back then!" Making Kaeya laugh loudly, kissing you and shaking his head. "My, my, look at you. Not so innocent anymore, hmm?"
ZHONGLI
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Zhongli did not sleep that night. After you had sex and drifted off to sleep, he was still processing everything. He had never had sex before, and he could smell that you hadn't either. There was a certain purity in your scent that he did not smell in others. For some reason, even after mating with you for the first time, it was still there. The whole night, as you lay next to him, breathing puffy little breaths, he watched you sleep, promising himself that he would protect you until the end of time.
You were the only kind of treasure he ever truly loved.
Zhongli pretended to sleep as soon as he sensed you waking. There were still many secrets he had hidden from you, and he wished not to scare you away. Zhongli had always seen sex as something necessary, even though he had never had sex before. He always smelled lust on other humans, but with you, he'd only ever smelt purity, and now he knew sex was so much more. Your eyes fluttered open and you turned to him, "good morning," whispering the words. Zhongli smiled, "good morning, my Qingxing. Would you care for a cup of tea?"
WRIOTHESLEY
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Wriothesley's voice was deep and husky, the sound waking you up. The bed was so warm, you didn't want to get up. Wriothesley smiled, blue eyes shining. "Good morning, beautiful. How do you feel?" You giggled softly, "so good, Mr. Duke," making him grin, rolling his eyes. "I had a really good time last night," you breathed softly. Wriothesley blushed, "I had a really good time last night too, my love."
You giggled again, looking into his eyes. "I'd marry you right now," he murmured, "if you'd let me," you blushed, "I'd marry you right now, too, Your Grace, but if I'm not correctly mistaken, I do believe that's the Chief Justice banging at your door." Wriothesley sighed, pulling you close and kissing him. "Stay for the week?" He murmured. You smiled, kissing him back, "I think I'll be staying for a while, Your Grace."
The pounding on the door got louder. "WRIOTHESLEY!" Yelled the Chief Justice, "I KNOW YOU'RE WITH THE TRAVELLER! OPEN UP NOW OR I SHALL SENTENCE YOU!" there was another loud bang, and a high-pitched voice shrieked outside the door, "PAIMON KNOWS YOU'RE IN THERE, YN!!! THE WHOLE FORTRESS COULD HEAR YOU!!!"
GENSHIN IMPACT MASTERLIST
NAVIGATION
The other requests are on their way!!! Hope you like this, anon!
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writingoddess1125 · 5 months
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Ok, I just have to ask you. Can we have more daddy Mihawk? 🫠🔥
Please 🥺
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You Got is Sugar!
Mihawk x FemReader +OOC Children
Liniște! {Be Quiet!}
Since Mihawk is Romanian 🇷🇴 I thought him speaking the tongue/culture would be fun!
If I got shit wrong PLEASE tell me!
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• Most people do not realize this, because Mihawk keeps it behind closed door. But- He is very heavily tied to his culture of birth.
• Most of the time at home, Mihawk has developed the habit of just speaking his native tongue. Feeling comforble enough to do so- As well as wanting to pass it on to his children.
• Mihawk summoning Alucare to his study one frosty morning, humming a song from his youth as he has a stack of papers and books before him. The gloomy teen stepping in and raising a brow at his father-
• "Închide ușa" (Close the Door-) Mihawk said calmly waving to his child who stares at him confused. "What language are you speaking old man?-"
• "From now on I'm only speaking my native language to you. So you learn or you starve-" He says calmly as he hands his son the book. "You've got to be kidding-"
• "Nu glumesc" (I'm not kidding-)
• He adores you and will speak with you privately in his native tongue, teaching you important words that will only ever be used for you-
• Does not use tradional physical punishments. Truthfully he doesn't believe in them- Yes he will be a harsh teacher in training since that is different.
• Laying next to you in the soft silks of bed whispering "Te iubesc" Softly to you. Teaching you the meanings of every word, as well as being more vocally affectionate in this language.
• "Well at least youre learning the language" Mihawk said with a heavy sigh looking at Alucare who got his ass handed to him-
• "Face din nou" (Do it again) Mihawk says calmly tapping his sword clean as Alicare laid on the ground trying to get up.
• "Du-te dracului!" (Go to Hell) Alucare growls out.
• Mihaela is constantly in his arms. He truthfully refuses to let her go, doting on her heavily and seeing her as his star in his sky.
- Mihawk walked into his father's study, raising a brow at seeing the man holding Miha still while going through papers. Mihawk glancing up at his eldest rather quickly-
• He is delicate and handles much of Mihaela nightly upkeep. Letting you sleep throughout the night since you worked so hard during the days.
• Changing diapers, getting bottles, dealing with any midnight fussiness. He handles it all with grace and making sure you sleep- As well as takes this time to clean up the nursery or the bedroom so it's something you don't stress about.
• He will immediately wake up at the first sounds of his darling daughter fussing. Walking calmly to her nursery and always greet her the same way-
• "Scumpa mea~" (My treasure) Mihawk smiling at his fussing daughter. "So beautiful, like your your mother-" before scooping her up in his arms.
• Spoils Mihaela fucking ROTTEN- The whole house does really but Mihawk is the worse..
"Seems girls ate favored in this family" Alucare muses, his words having no mallace and just a simple jest at how his sister was so heavily spoiled. Mohawk raising a brow at this and staring at his child-
"Favored?" He questioned rather calmly.
"Yeah like favorite chil-"
"No-" Mihawk said calmy but firmly, cutting off his son. "Miha is my Sun, Bright, Innocent and Sweet but clearly with a fire of an attitude. You are my Moon, Smart, Ambitious and Loyal but can be cold. And your mother, She is my sky. Day or Night she guides me and holds the two most important things in my life. You are all equally needed and important to me. Without one or another all would be lost" He clarified rather sharply.
Alucare face getting a hint of pink at the rather kind words his father spoke. Now unsure how to respond or explain to his father he was just making a joke.
Bonus!-
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Mihawk notices his cigars are missing- While he doesn't personally smoke he does have expensive cigars for guest or have gifted to him as gifts-
He knew he had counted 30- yet he had only 27 in his collection. Irritation hitting him as he closes the box and calmly grabs his hat-
On the otherside of the Island, Alucare is sitting on one of the old abandoned pillars- a place he had turned into his hide out were he could relax. Currently with one bottle of wine he had snuck from his father's secret stash and a cigar.
This had turned into his favorite pass time. Drinking directly out of the bottle and taking a mouthful of smoke as he sat there looking over the gloomy island-
However this was soon to end when a menacing shadow with glowing yellow eyes stood behind him- Alucare feeling his hair stand up on end as he slowly turned to see the invision of the devil himself there.
"O să număr până la trei-"
(I'm gonna count to Three-)
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themotherofhorses · 1 year
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pairing: aemond targaryen x handmaid!reader
summary: "i am looking for a maid, preferably one of eight-and-ten...a young handmaid for my second son, aemond."
warnings: nothing.
notes: an anon requested their first meeting, so here it is.
his handmaid's tales I main masterlist
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It began with the Queen.  
“How may I serve your Grace.”
“I am looking for a maid, preferably one of eight-and-ten,” Queen Alicent had told the septa in private. It was gloomy outside, with dark clouds blanketing the sky. She had just finished lighting four candles. “A young handmaid for my second son, Aemond. He is the only of my children not to have one. I’d like for her to be sweet and devoted and quick on her feet, a girl who will swear her undying loyalty and service unto him and his needs.”
His twentieth nameday was fast approaching, set within the next fortnight. She felt this would be a fine gift for him.
The septa took a moment to think. “Does her breeding matter?” she asked. “I know of a girl- she is exactly what you desire, but she is a bastard, born to one of the serving wenches at Harrenhal.”
The queen’s nose wrinkled. “A riverlands bastard?”
“She is said to be Lord Lyonel’s granddaughter, my queen.”
“So a Strong bastard….” Alicent rubbed at her temple, “I suppose…if she is what I ask for, and that you can assure she’ll remain loyal to him.” She then sighed, shaking her head. “Though, do keep it away from my son, septa. He carries such little love for House Strong. I do not wish for him to turn his ire onto her if he ever found out.  
The septa frowned. “Do you genuinely believe the prince would dare harm an innocent girl, your Grace?”
Alicent tugged at her gown's flowing sleeve, sniffing. “That is why I ask for you to keep her heritage a secret.”   
Two weeks later, you stood in Prince Aemond’s bedchamber as his new handmaid. The septa was at your elbow, mumbling a flood of demands into your ear. “Stand straighter, child, for the sake of the gods. But keep your head bowed, gaze locked on your feet. You mustn’t ever behold the prince unless he allows it.” You ran a hand down your arm, feeling the skin prickled with goosebumps, before lacing your trembling fingers together.
To your right was the Queen, dressed in a pretty gown as green as summer. She said very little to you, if not nothing.
“Ah, Aemond! My dear boy, please join us,” she greeted quite happily when her son arrived at the doors of his room. You kept your eyes down, counting each loud footstep of his that loomed closer with every second.
“Who is this?”
Queen Alicent cleared her throat. “Your new handmaid, son.”
Prince Aemond remained silent. You could feel his gaze. One. Two. Three…four, five, six…. You swallowed, counting each heartbeat that quickened inside your chest as you willed yourself to stay still and brave. Do not tremble. It would be an embarrassment, no doubt. You felt your nails digging into your palms. Fear cuts much deeper than any sword.
“I was…unaware I needed a handmaid, dear mother,” he finally said.
“Aegon and Helaena have theirs, and Daeron’s been by his side in Oldtown since he was a young boy. It is unlike a prince not to have his own handmaid. She will do you well.”  
“Do me well?”
“Yes!”
The septa pinched the skin of your arm, causing you to flinch before lifting your face to meet his eye from across the room. The prince...he was handsome, terribly so, you thought. Tall and silver-haired, dashing and imposing, with a deep violet eye. “I was brought here to serve you,” you told him, “-to do anything and everything my prince commands.” Prince Aemond skimmed you up and down, an eyebrow rising. “Anything? Such as…?”
You glanced at the septa, unsure of what to say next. “Um, well, my prince, I shall fix your baths and sew any ripped shirts if you’d like? I might also fetch you your wine if desired-”
“She’ll do whatever you ask of her, my prince,” the septa interjected. Queen Alicent smiled, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Does that not please you, son?” She then leaned to mutter something close to his ear, and he stiffened, aiming his cool stare at you, before relaxing.
“Alright. You are suffice,” he decided before turning to his mother, his face softening. “Thank you, mother.”
Queen Alicent leaned to kiss his cheek before pushing past him out into the hall. The septa soon followed her, leaving you and Prince Aemond alone in the room. Thump. Thump. Thump. The prince stole another look at you. “What might I call you?”
You gave him your name, dropping low into a pretty curtesy. Every time you bow, your neck is at the mercy of the royals. “A beautiful name,” he said. His voice sounded throaty. He was clothed in black leather, from his shoulders to his ankles, and the cloak he wore around his shoulders. At his waist hung a longsword. “Thank you, my prince. It was my mother’s choosing.”
The raven had arrived at Harrenhal at midday, a flurry of black wings that carried a letter demanding your sudden attendance at the Red Keep at the request of the queen herself. Your mother was reluctant to send you off at first but eventually did so with five sweet kisses and a bright yellow mullein flower that she slipped into the pocket of her old green cloak.
Prince Aemond hummed. “Well, if you’d like, I have two shirts that are in need of sewing. Ser Cole knicked them with his own sword during my training four mornings back.” He gestured to his closet, nicely carved from weirwood, pale as a bone. The look of it reminded you of your mother and the gods you left behind at home.
You nodded, bowing. “As my prince commands,” and you moved towards the closet to fetch his shirts, although you would likely need to venture out to find a needle and…
A hand touched your arm.
You spun to meet him. “Do you need something else, my prince?” Prince Aemond stood so close you could see the long pale scar peeking from behind his eyepatch, his dark eyelashes, and his jutting chin and high cheekbones. He was far more beautiful up close. You felt butterflies in your belly, stirring up a strange fluttering feeling; it crept up your spine to your throat.
“Do you fear me?”
You bit your lip. “No.”
He hummed again, eye flickering across your face. You do not believe me, don't you. You felt it glide over your browbone, to the slope of your nose, and pausing at your lips. “Fix my shirts, then. I have needles and thread in my closet as well. You do not leave the room unless I dismiss you.”
“She is yours. Your handmaid. Everything she does next is at your own will and mercy,” his mother whispered to him. “But do treat her well, Aemond. It is through kindheartedness that you receive devotion.”
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tag list: @aemondsblog @dc-marvel-girl96 @neobanguniverse @missalycat21 @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan @padfooteyes @alexizodd
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alysrivrs · 9 months
Text
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❛ ♡. gif credit. ⎯⎯ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐍. ❜
★ ⎯⎯ prince aemond and his betrothed take a stroll together in the royal gardens, though a bit more happens on this ‘stroll’ than he had previously anticipated.
𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋’𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾: i don’t really know what this is, but i was heavily caffeinated & wanted to write something with mostly fluff in it, so… happy reading & enjoy ! ♡
𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: mdni, suggestive themes, slightly dark!aemond, profanity, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, first kiss (reader), period-typical sexism, misogyny (women are more than breeding machines, aemond!), innocence kink, breeding kink, possessive & obsessive behavior, pet names, romance, fluff—any grammatical errors are my own -- in advance, i sincerely apologize.
𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍: 1.7k
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𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒.
aemond could recall the way you smelled by memory—like freshly ripened strawberries, white roses, sweetened vanilla, your hair was always luscious and soft, like the white satin dress you chose to wear today due to the summer heat in king’s landing.
or maybe, you wished to seek him out and gain more of his attention?
if aemond were to be honest with himself, it worked—oh, how it worked.
“tell me, darling—is the color of your lily-white dress an indication of your virtue?” he mused, causing your cheeks to flush and become dewy from the early afternoon sun, blooming flowers surrounding the two of you.
you couldn’t speak, too embarrassed by your betrothed’s sudden teasing—besides… how scandalous would it be if someone were to eavesdrop on your conversation with the one-eyed prince?
aemond smirked, amused by your shy reaction.
‘twas not as if you were in private, no—the prince demanded your presence once he had finished with his morning training, wishing to take you on a stroll in the royal gardens of the red keep, knowing how much you adored the sight of flowers.
still, no matter how scandalous your dress seemed to others, the heat in king’s landing was quite stifling—even more so with aemond carefully observing you, his amethyst eye sharp and intense as he walked alongside you, not paying any attention to the flowers around you both.
aemond was content to just simply gaze down at you, his own pretty, little flower—soon to blossom into a woman grown, as soon as he would take you under his protection as his lady wife, as far as traditions go.
he made you incredibly nervous—with his long strands of silver hair, his sharp yet handsome features, his prominent nose, his lithe but strong frame, his tall height (which towered over you), those soft, naturally curved lips of his… seven above, you could go on and on!
unbelievably, you seemed to have his full, undivided attention, which made your heart flutter—having the prince all to yourself?
you felt as if you were in some sort of dream—perhaps, you were.
especially with the way aemond treated you—respectful and kind, though you could always see a darkened gleam in his one-eye, as if he were holding himself back from something.
it made your soft, inner thighs slick with arousal—it also had you praying to the seven above each and every evening before bed, begging for forgiveness for your depraved thoughts of your betrothed.
in any case, aemond was much, much worse than you.
aemond could not seem to control himself around you, his cock hardening by the second the more he spent his time with you—alone.
“my sweet lady,” he murmured, interrupting your compliments of the colorful flowers, as he allowed you to do most of the talking as you two walked together, side by side.
aemond was never big on conversation, he never had been, preferring to stay silent and keep his thoughts concealed to himself, in fear of being mocked as he was when he was just a child.
you paused, looking up at the prince—his one natural eye was amethyst in color, the other a sparkling sapphire gem he’d stuffed into his left eye socket when he was just a boy, after his eye had been stolen by his bastard nephew.
however, as you looked up at aemond, there was only one word in your mind—beautiful.
still, he was touched that you didn’t seem afraid of him—in fact, you seemed greatly insulted when he would wear his leather eyepatch around you, claiming it unnecessary and that you wished to see your betrothed whole—every single inch of him.
perhaps, that was the moment aemond one-eye fell irrevocably in love with you.
a moment of silence passed—not uncomfortable, just two soon-to-be lovers gazing at each other.
“may i kiss you, my lady?” he questioned, watching your doe eyes widen, your pink, plump lips parting open slightly in surprise.
“k-kiss me?” you stammered, so sweet and innocent and his.
you didn’t have it in your heart to deny him—in fact, you wanted nothing more than to feel his plush, curved mouth upon yours—desperately.
you nodded, eagerly giving him your consent.
aemond chuckled, quiet and breathy, amused by your sudden eagerness—his shy girl no longer.
immediately, without waiting another second, the prince moved to cup the sides of your flushed face with both of his big, calloused hands, before bending his knees slightly and capturing your lips in a needy, passionate kiss—hearing you release a soft, breathy moan of bliss.
aemond hummed, pleased.
unexpectedly, you kissed him back with just as much enthusiasm, though a bit clumsy, making him think to himself that perhaps this was your first kiss—your first kiss with a man.
the thought excited aemond, which also caused his cock to ache with need—to feel your wet, tight little cunt wrapped around his cock, squeezing him like a vise, right before he would start fucking into your warmth at a frenzied pace, mad with lust for you.
you were a soft, sensitive little thing, with a heart made of glass, meant to be protected, loved, spoiled… and aemond was the perfect man for the role.
he’d cherish you like his queen, love you with every breath he took and beat of his heart—the kind of love that would be told for centuries to come—legendary.
after several seconds of growing accustomed to the way your lips molded together—so perfectly—aemond easily slipped his tongue into your mouth—exploring its delicious sweetness.
strawberries, white roses, and sweetened vanilla.
your scent, your taste—it all filled his senses, making his cock strain even more inside of his leather breeches, while he continuously kissed you more and more, like a man starved until he thought he could never stop.
clearly, you did not wish to stop either.
your soft hands clawed at his back, tugging on his long strands of silver hair, clinging to his lithe form with desperation—a need so strong, aemond had half the mind to bend you over the nearest bench, lift up your pretty, satin skirts and fuck you from behind like a wild beast in his rut.
after several longer moments, you pulled away, gasping for air, though your lips still continued to gently brush against his, both of you panting and sharing the same breath—lips kiss-swollen and desperate for more from one another.
aemond’s eyes were heavy lidded and filled with lust—his amethyst eye practically dilated black and his sparkling sapphire eye shining dangerously with the need to touch you, to fuck you, to spill his seed deep inside of your womb—so deep, you’d be carrying his son by morning.
nevertheless, aemond was a gentleman—he could be patient, though that didn’t stop his depraved thoughts of taking your maidenhead on your wedding night, which was quickly approaching by the days—thank the gods.
soon, you’d be his wife—his lady targaryen.
his and only his.
“perhaps, we s-should return b-back inside, my prince? ‘tis nearly lunchtime… the queen mother requested my presence—she wishes to go over the flower arrangements for our wedding,” you spoke breathlessly, your voice slightly shaky from the intensity of the kiss you both shared.
aemond hummed, nodding his head once in agreement, his face returning back to its usual stoic expression—though his cheeks were still tinted pink and his cock was surely leaking inside of his breeches now… as if he were a little boy once again!
how fucking ridiculous, that he had gotten hard after just simple kissing—however, technically it wasn’t just ‘simple kissing’, not when he was so hopelessly in love.
instantly, aemond offered you one of his lean arms, a silent offer to escort you to his dearest mother’s private solar… and maybe even indulge in some of the ladies newest gossip about your upcoming nuptials—if only to spend more time in your presence.
aemond could not give less of a fuck about what any of the simpering, aggravating noblewomen had to say or gossip about—he only cared for you and what you had to say.
therefore, he would endure the torturous boredom of the ladies of the court, even if he thought each and every single one of them were poisonous, nasty creatures.
be that as it may, aemond would only do such a thing to remain by your side for the rest of the day… and to harshly glare threateningly at any lady who even looked at you the wrong way.
it seemed, the longer aemond spent his time in your gentle presence, the more he grew obsessed—your beautiful and relaxing voice, your sweet smiles, your gentle touch, your naïveté.
seven hells, you were the most breathtaking creature he’s ever had the pleasure of seeing, even with only his one-eye.
when aemond did observe you, which was quite often now as he couldn’t bear to tear his eye away from you, he’d notice the little things about you—causing his world to stop and revolve only around you.
you, you, you.
snapping out of his lovesick thoughts, aemond glanced down at you as you looped your own arm around his offered one, making his blackened heart give a tiny flutter as you smiled so prettily up at him.
“shall we, my sweet lady?” he questioned, his voice a low rasp, controlled and steady, but he did try his best effort with being soft with you, not wanting to scare you off and have you believe the vile rumors spread about him from the court gossipers.
he knew he had quite the temper, the targaryen madness, they called it.
you giggled, “of course, my prince.”
fuck, aemond was quite certainly fucking doomed by having you as his future lady wife—so sweet, caring and loving, the way you seemed so docile and yearned for children of your own… you’d make a lovely mother to his sons, that he was certain.
just as a lovely mother to his future heirs, you’d also make the most perfect wife, he decided.
obedient, doting, gentle, tender and loving—aemond could not wait to make you his little wife, and have his firstborn son swelling inside of your womb.
until then, aemond would portray himself as the perfect gentleman (as usual)—that is, until your wedding night arrives.
fin
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amusingmusie · 28 days
Note
I know it's not going to happen but what do you think a child between Nel & Alastor would be like? Personality wise or appearance
History Repeats Itself
This is goddamn ridiculous.
Heels click against shiny vinyl flooring as Nel tears off down the hallway, speeding past flyers promoting honors ceremonies and painted murals of happy children. Pushing open door after door and stomping hard enough to make her knees shake, she does nothing to hide her rage over such a bullshit situation. Her fingers twitch with the need for a goddamned cigarette, but she doesn’t trust herself to not light this private school aflame with it. Oh no, she’s not chancing that, not when she’d ruin the career she fought to earn and the schooling she pays out the ass for in one fell swoop. 
Her warpath only halts when she reaches a thick wooden door simply labeled as Dean’s Office. It’s becoming increasingly familiar as of late. With a barely contained growl, she knocks the door open, steps into the room, and prepares for battle.
“She is evil!”
“That’s a strong word. I prefer the term strong-willed instead.”
“Shut it! You’re a malignant tumor on this school!!!”
“Wow, that was a good one. You’re improving your vocabulary, congratulations!”
“DEVIL!”
“You know, anything you say can be held against you in court, I’d mind your words if I were you.”
“WE ARE NOT IN COURT!!!!!”
Nel watches a teenage girl hiss and spit pure venom with all the rage of a feral creature. Her dark eyes are blazing with unfiltered fury, something Nel herself recognizes all too well. There’s no need to ask what has her raging- oh no, Nel is aware of the issue, she sure fucking knows exactly who is responsible for this mess. 
Turning on her heels, Nel stares down the little shit sitting primly in a chair by the flabbergasted dean. Not a curly hair is out of her place on her head, with each chocolate strand pinned neatly back with a stylish bow. Quickly, she gives a small pat to her immaculate bumper bang like she’s brushing away some invisible dust that could possibly disrupt her picture-perfect image. 
She’s a doll with smooth caramel skin and large hazel eyes. 
She’s adorable with pearly white teeth and freckles dotted across her cheeks. 
She’s precious with her long, poofy skirt and long, poofy hair.
She’s perfect.
Except, her mother knows better. Oh, does she ever know better. 
“Sweet Christ,” Nel sighs with something that isn’t quite disappointment, but certainly isn’t glee. Nobody has breathed a word of what events called her down to the private school, again, but she’s certain that her spawn is somehow responsible because she is always responsible when chaos occurs. “Evie. What in the hell is going on here?”
“Momma, there you are!” Bouncing out of her seat, Evie skips over to her mother without a care in the world. She doesn’t bat an eye at her classmate glaring daggers at her or the dean blinking in exasperation since she’s too busy sidling up to her revered birth-giver. “Listen, this is all a big, silly mix-up. I’m completely innocent-”
“Lies-!”
“It was Roxxy who dumped the paint on her own bag to frame me-”
“NO, I DID NOT-!”
“Because why would I ever do such a terrible thing?” Looking for backup, she moves her gaze to the dean, who simply nods his head in slight agreement. “I would never jeopardize my perfect record with the threat of a conduct mark, and for what? To upset my good friend Roxxane with a ridiculous prank?”
“We are not friends!” the other teen growls, her skin turning an intense shade of crimson from the wrath boiling in her bones.
“You’re right, we’re best friends! Thank you for reminding me,” Evie chirps, her toothy smile growing wider.
Nel swats away unfortunate flashbacks that threaten to overtake the moment. 
“Okay, kid, put a pin in it. Just, God, come on, we’re leaving, now. Go.” Once her daughter departs from the room with a final wave to her so-called friend, Nel stares at the dean. “Stop calling me for this bullshit. I pay this school too goddamn much money to run up here each time there’s an issue with these two- next time, deal with it.”
The door slams shut behind her, and she marches on. 
Leather pumps and leather oxfords click together in time down the hallway. 
“What on God’s green earth possessed you to do that?” Nel scoffs, not pausing her march to freedom for a moment. It hardly matters since her kid already has at least an inch on her, because of course she does, her legs are more than long enough to keep up with the redhead’s shorter stomps. “Dumping paint on someone’s bag? Shit, did you just forget any home training I gave you?”
“Momma!” Evie gasps in offense, her round eyes going wide. “You don’t believe in my innocence?”
“No.”
“Okay, fair enough.” Just like that, the act drops and she shrugs, clicking her shiny saddle shoes on the floor. “But I didn’t do it for fun. Well, maybe I did, but she also deserved it.”
“You cannot continue to terrorize that girl. This is the third time that there’s been an incident in the past five weeks. Every time you get yourself into a mess, I gotta hightail it up here to drag you home, and that’s time I lose with my clients, and that’s money I lose to spend on you. You think it reflects positively on me when I’m unable to run my firm because I’m wrangling my daughter?”
“I know, but-“
“Genevieve Marie Sheridan-“
“You don’t understand!”
“Then enlighten me.” 
“She’s terrible!” Uncharacteristic irritation crosses over Evie’s sharp facial features, contorting them into a disgruntled expression eerily similar to the one worn by the ginger walking next to her. “I’m telling you, I have never met someone so absolutely dull and unpleasant in all my life! Sure, I’ve only been alive for fourteen years, but I’ve had a worldly fourteen years!”
“Oh, really now?”
“Momma, forget the details! What I’m trying to explain to you is that she is awful, so I’m attempting to help her become less awful with some harmless fun.”
A familiar feeling creeps along Nel’s skin. It’s a distant feeling, one she hasn’t felt in nearly fifteen years, but it’s one she can never forget, not ever. It’ll haunt her til the day she dies, and long after that too. 
Cold realization begins to dawn on her.
“...What makes this girl so bad?”
“What doesn’t?” the teen snips, rolling her eyes. “She always has to argue with me or oppose me, she can never just listen to anything I say! I don’t understand. Everyone else loves me- as they should, I’m amazing.”
“Mhm.”
“But not her! Never her. She’s been against me since we moved here, what, seven years ago? All because everyone adores me due to my benevolent nature and because she’s an envious ball of rage with no friends.”
“Mhm.”
“And I always think of how repulsive she is, especially at the worst times! Did you know that I dreamed of her nasty little face the other night? She’s a true nightmare at this point. I can’t escape her even in my sleep.”
“I bet.”
“So, in conclusion, she is my number one enemy, and I will destroy her.” Evie raises her upturned nose into the air with a slight huff. “In completely legal ways, of course. Such as kindness. And a few ink bombs too.”
There it is. 
Pausing at the front of the school, Nel faces the little turd fully, her initial anger fading. Hell, she can never stay mad at the kid for long; that’s her baby, no matter how tall she grows or how ruthless she becomes. 
When Evie returns her mother’s softening gaze with a kind one of her own, Nel swallows down an old sadness that’s taken root inside of her. It’s been there for years, always hovering like a ghost in the background, always lingering no matter how long she ignores it. But, its presence isn’t so heavy with her kid here, even if she wears a dead man’s face and speaks in his same chipper tone. 
It would be just like Alastor to have a child so eerily like himself. He could never quit the game; he’d always leave some version of himself behind to plague Nel. 
Fitting. He always had to have the last laugh.
“You know, I know a thing or two about having an enemy.”
“Oh, like the DA?”
“No, not that son of a bitch, though he’s worthless,” she grumbles. “No, I had someone else I swore to destroy a long time ago.”
“Well, did you?” she asks, and Nel gives her a strained, tired smile. 
“Yes and no. That’s a story for another day. For now, all I’ll tell you is that you need to be careful, and that maybe you should spend some time using that big brain to decide what you really think of this nemesis of yours.”
“Well, I hate her. I don't need to think about that.”
Nel rolls her eyes. “No doubt, but hate can sometimes…ah, fuck it, I’ll save it.” With a shake of her head, she waves away her words. “You’ll figure it out, baby. Now come on, we’re getting the hell out of here. Goddamn ridiculous school.”
“Yes ma’am!” Evie skips along happily next to Nel, contagious cheer radiating off of her. “We need to go anyway. I’d like to be at least down the block before the dye bomb I placed in Roxxy’s locker detonates.”
“...The what?”
There’s a distant pop, and then a muffled scream from deep inside of the school building.
Evie blinks innocently, and then Nel sighs. 
History always repeats itself. 
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meafortuna · 1 year
Text
ASTRO NOTES #6
I’m not a professional astrologer, part of the things are just my observations. Enjoy it! 🫶
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• Okay, hear me out… the most underrated house imo is the 6th house. 🔮 The sixth house it’s one of the most intuitive and let me tell you why i think like that - as we know it is ruled by Virgo, which represents the virgin and you know there is nothing more innocent than a child or a virgin, because they are so pure and that’s why they have very strong intuition. Next one 6th house = 6th sense. Virgo is responsible for our digestive system and that lead me to that phrase “trust your gut”. Also 6th is the opposite house of 12th, and 12th house it’s about intuition too, but maybe more like dreams, psychic thoughts, on the other hand the sixth house intuition comes from the body, as i said strong gut feeling. And last, but not least, take a look at the “6” you will see how that circle in “6” seems like the belly in the human body and what represents Virgo again - our digestive system, which is known as our second brain. So don’t ever underestimate a Virgo/6th house placemants, they can read any person or situation like a book, not just because they are ruled by Mercury, but also because they have that gift from the mother nature.
• Venus conjunct Saturn, Venus Rx and Venus at 29 degree may have same experience in love, seems like they always end up with karmic lessons in their love life. Also if the conjunction between Venus and Saturn is in 12th house can represent some disfunction when it comes to s*x.🪐❤️‍🩹
• Libra rising is one of the most beautiful rising sign, what a bless, huh? 💄But there is a big price that comes with that, because of their Aries ruling 7th house seems like these natives always find partners with anger issues or some kind of more dominant, which is not so good, because most of the times Libra have problem with boundaries and saying "no", but that’s not the only “bad” thing. They have Capricorn IC, which is known for burdened childhood. And Cancer MC, which is soo sweet, they always want to take care for the others and people often find comfort in their presence, but because of their empathetic nature other can take easily atvantage of them. ⚖️
• The most private house is the 4th house. The 4th house is under the horizon, so that make the native with planets in 4th more secretive than those with 8/12 house placements, yes they are private too, but in a different kind of way. You know how people say "You don't really know a person until you live with him" and what else represent 4th house - home, i guess that’s the only way to really get to know 4th houser, to became a part of their family circle or to start live with them, which is not that easy.🛖🪴
• If someone have Pluto or Saturn that makes transit through their 12th house, they can have that feeling like they are losing their mind, can be very hard and draining for the native. 🫥😵‍💫
• Scorpio in big 3 and their stare. For example: my bf (Scorpio asc) doing something like cooking or gaming and all of the time i’m (Scorpio Moon) like 👁️, and sometimes doesn’t even watch at him, it’s something more like staring trough him. Yes, sometimes i look at him in that way, because i admire him, but most of the times no. And he does just the same with me, when i have been cleaning or whatever. It’s crazy. 😁 Not without a reason plutonian placements are famous with their intense and sometimes intimidating look/eyes. I think it’s because of their sense for acknowledging everything in depth, something more on subconscious level, not because they are doing it on purpose. 🦂
• I don’t want to be rude, but Aquarius Moon in fire dominant chart are one of the most egoistic people out there, sorry not sorry. 👻
• Lilith conjunct MC/square/opposite Asc it’s an aspect that can’t stand unseen. Because the raw power of the Moon it’s in a public house or make an aspect to 1st house, which is about ourselves, our look and etc. People with this position of Lilith often can feel like “all eyes on them” and the truth is how other sees them depends on the energy they give of. If the native feels good today people will be watching at them, because of their positive vibe, but if they are in a bad mood, people will look at them with some kind of embarrassment. Their appearance may not in any way suggest what mood they are in, but the energy they radiate is very powerful. 💥🔥
~meafortuna 💙
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flowerandblood · 7 months
Text
I'm back
And I'm back with my oneshot with Michael Gavey. He fucking came back from the dead. Some can call it resurrection.
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I needed these 24 hours just for myself to think about why I was writing at all and why I was doing it.
To talk about it with my husband who, as always, knowing me inside out, said that I didn't deserve to have my work and commitment here wasted by people who don't have the courage to write to me under their own nickname.
Just to be clear - it doesn't matter when or if any of you would read my oneshot. When, why or if you will do it is neither something to feel guilty nor proud of, like reading or not anything I wrote or will write.
I remind you that's my space, not yours. Anon asks stays off, because I know who you really are.
Cowards.
From now on, I will be much stricter about what other people "opinion" should and should not be.
I will block anyone, anons, writers or readers, who cannot watch their words - even if it's on your blogs, in your asks, comments, reblogs or statements - I don't want to see any ironic, hurtful bullshit on my wall anymore.
I will block them, but I will never nag them. I just don't need them in my life, in my space. Learn from me, anon haters. I hope me coming back is your stick in the ass and not in the pleasurable way.
I don't care if you think I'm a sweet and innocent author with no flaws - I'm not. I've never been. I don't care about maintaining this image either.
Yes, I can't stand anons who send me and other authors baseless criticism. They were and will remain my enemies. I will never be nice to them, because by hiding they lose the last of my respect.
However, I have never been and will never be unpleasant to people who ask me thoughtful questions with the respect that one person can and should expect from another. Usually it's not about the question itself, but about how it was asked.
Writing anonymously to others that you wish their pets to die, that it's good that they lost their child, or to me that I don't really love my husband and I'm cheating on him because I write fanfics is not the smartest idea.
You are just sad, jealous idiots.
Now.
A few of people here are trying to keep this sticky tape glued fandom from falling apart and I sincerely admire them: @ewanmitchellcrumbs @targaryenrealnessdarling @oneeyedvisenya @theoneeyedprince @valeskafics @black-dread
This fandom doesn't deserve you, but there you are.
+ I wanted to say 'thank you' to all of the writers who just reached me to say that they are sorry, to say that I have a right to write whatever I want. Do what I want without being judged.
Finally, I cannot help but mention the wave of anonymous and non-anonymous messages from my fans, to which I apologize for not responding. I've read them all.
Many of you came out of the shadows and wrote to me for the first time, showing me how much my stories mean to you. Thank you for all the memes, photos, drawings and words of comfort, very long and very short messages.
If it weren't for you, if it weren't for my husband who told me that I needed a break - not to destroy everything I created, I would have deleted this account a few days ago. He said that I should care more about my own mental comfort, which I intend to do.
I deleted my Discord account to withdraw from the fandom a bit and to put what happened behind me. I don't have good emotions right now that I could share with you in these groups, which you deserve. I don't want to be a ghost account there.
If you want to talk to me or explain something, you can reach me in private messages.
So. Karawana jedzie dalej, as we say in Poland. Those who want to be tagged, please let me know here or privately.
I don't know when I will publish my other works, but I will.
Welcome back.
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cosmocup1d · 26 days
Text
Take this
@alexa-fika
Part 1
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'Four men in uniform'
It was dark and rainy day. Four marines carried a small coffin on their shoulders, the coffin was light a little too light. Everyone in the funeral was wearing black with a few colors popping out mostly from a poppy flower
'To carry home...'
Few Marines had tears in their eyes with home down right crying and sobbing not caring who saw or heard. Why does it have to happen to an innocent child? Everyone thought of it but they have no answer
'My little soldier...'
As the four Marines comes closer the three Admirals could help but be filled with despair. Kizaru an admiral known from his bright yellow suit is now adorned with a black suit and a bright red poppy on his breast pocket
Kizaru never felt this way; atleast not in a long time. He never thought a sweet innocent girl who's always baking cookies and giving poppy flowers to everyone would die in such a cruel way
Aokiji never felt this angry in his life. Yes he experience anger before but not like this. He was angry at everyone. Angry at Marines. Angry at akainu. And angry at himself for not saving a charming and sweet girl who always gives and never except returns
Aokiji grips the frosted poppy flower at his hand, he remembers the first day he met her she was so so sweet, Full of love and life. But not anymore. Aokiji bitter said in his head while glaring at akainu
'What could she do? Should have been a rockstar'
Should could have been a rockstar. The girl already had a beautiful voice and a cute charm
'But she didn't have the money for a guitar'
The little girl asked her father for a small guitar but he just dissmissed the idea saying that it would just be a waste of time making the girl sad but nodded before walking away
'What could she do? Should have be a politician'
The girl was sighing as her private tutor went over some political subject making her instantly bored. The little girl never cared about politics but if that's want her father wants her to learn then so be it
'But she never had proper education'
The little girl was giggling was the tutor panic trying to find the girl. The said girl was hiding behind a bush in her small little garden filled with flowers and little insect and animals who keep her company besides the maids, Butler's, and other workers in the mansion
'What could she do? Should've been a mother'
It was late in the night the little girl was wondering inside the big mansion trying to find confront. The girl sigh as she wipes a few tears, the girl was visibly upset because her father is away for months. The girl huffed as she goes up and up towards the attic
The girl was banned from the attic from unknown reason by her father. The little girl curiousity got the better of her and opening the attic door. As soon as she opens the door she let out a cough as the attic was filled with dust and cobwebs but it didn't stop her
The girl looks around the room as she noticed a huge painting that was covered by a huge black piece of cloth making her interested. The girl walks towards the painting and grabbing the cloth before pulling it down gently revealing a woman with a huge smile
The girls eyes widen as she notice her father smiling then it clicks to her. It was her mother and father. She examines the painting, the woman was sitting down wearing a beautiful white dress with her hair tied in a bun with a veil behind her. Her father was surprisingly smiling wearing a white and red wedding suit and his arm around the woman shoulder
The girl couldn't help but feel saddened. Saddened that she never saw her mother. Saddened that her father never smiles. Saddened that she killed her mother
'But she never even made it to her twenties'
The four Marines reach the front of the funeral where a small hole was dug. One of the Marines bit his lip, it was koby trying not to cry but couldn't stop himself which made his friend helmeppo who just stayed unusually quiet as tears run down his long face
'What a waste'
A few Marines took off their hats and putting it to there chest and bowing there head out of respect, including akainu and Sengoku.
'Army dreamers'
"Any last words?" Sengoku ask his voice loud and clear but no one cares to speak; most Marines were glancing at akainu.
'Oh what a waste of'
Sengoku just sigh as he signals the four Marines to lower down the small coffin. The Marines then slowly lowers the coffin as a lot of people throws poppy flowers as they back away
The coffin was now officially lowered down and the Marines starts shoveling the dirt back as people more and more disaapear.
An hour pass as akainu was the only one left. He was staring down at the headstone
'[Name]
In golden fields, a child's laughter rang,
Life's vibrant song, forever she sang.
But fate's cruel twist took her away,
Leaving memories that forever stay.
A beloved friend and daughter'
Tears run down akainu- no sakazuki face as he falls to his knees and gripping the soft grass. The headstone staring back, the headstone as fillwed with Plushies, toys, sweets, candles, flowers and cards
'Army dreamers'
As sakazuki starts speaking saying all the things he wants to do and experience with her and never able to do. Telling her all his flaws and what he failed to do and what he should have done.
A few hours pass as sakazuki reluctantly left as it was getting dark, promising his daughter to return the very next day. He gave the headstone a Pat almost like he's patting his daughter head
As he left, a shadow appear with a mischievous and evil grin with a plan
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the-flowerwolf · 1 year
Text
Hogwarts legacy headcanons
While normal people go and socialize I wake up and think about ✨them✨
So there's some headcanons about my favourite Legacy Team (as I call them) for ya folks while I'm writing a really big fic about them. Careful, some of them are sad. And don't mind my poor grammar thanks.
Btw, collages are mine, feel free to use them💙
🐍Sebastian Sallow🐍
First off all, if you turn him in, I don't trust you
Literally a typical Slytherin
A nerd. Just a nerd.
Quidditch? Babe, the only sport for him is dueling
Felt absolutely helpless when his parents died. And that's why he's so protective. He just can't let anyone else die on his watch
Really is a small version of his father and proud of it
Believes that the end justifies the means
Hopeless flirt BUT a gentleman. Wouldn't do anything you don't like
And also most probably believes in true love
A proud bisexual
Everyone think that "he fucks everything that moves" but he's a virgin who "saves himself for the one and only"
As some fan said, he was probably born on 18th September. And it's a canon now.
A great friend but a terrible secret keeper, so for Merlin's sake, don't tell him ANYTHING
Knows how to braid hair into the most complex ways
Pro feminist! Treats women right and knows all important stuff thanks to his sis
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🔥Natty Onai🔥
I'm sorry but she's so underrated and for what??
I believe she really respect traditions she were tought as a child
Her favourite holiday must be her birthday. All because it was the only day of the year when her parents forgot about all the dangers and sorrows and they just got together, spending the best time
Most probably will return to the homeland after Hogwarts
Is the only member of the team who play quidditch
(as a keeper ofc)
She's a lesbian idk dudes
A very honest girl who were raised to be a good person
So she just expects the same from others
A very competitive. But not like Imelda. Natty respects fair competition and knows how to honorably recognize a match
Although this does not mean that she will not destroy you to win
Is always cold poor thing
Religious bc I feel like it
Has mommy issues and don't tell me I'm wrong
Will definitely become the best auror one day
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🌼Poppy Sweeting🌼
Her favourite holiday is Christmas lemme tell you that
Trust issues
She's trying her best to be gentle with every living being because she saw too much violence already
And that's why she thinks animals are better than people (agree)
She's definitely an INFP and I won't change my mind
Looks like a cinnamon roll but will kill you
A cliché but I feel like she's an excellent cook
Although she would LOVE to find someone to understand her (like us) she's totally okay with being on her own
Is into mind games like chess
But will go to see a quidditch game just to support Natty (and mc if they play)
Is always up to an adventure
Bullies? Girl grew up among killers, you really think she would care about some bullies?
I feel like she has the strongest personality in here. Doesn't matter what happens she will always stand straight while helping others
Is a cat person
Can't cry bc she was not allowed as a child
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💚Ominis Gaunt💚
Just an innocent little boy let's be honest
He may look like he can kill you but he's just a cinnamon roll
Jokes about his blindness as a defence mechanism
Had a crush on both Sallow siblings at some point and I can't blame him
Saw a theory on tiktok that his patronus would be albino snake. CANON
Just wants to have a simple quiet life without any drama
Protective of his friends BUT is more protective of his boundaries
Don't mind his blindness he knows EXACTLY how to be a fashion icon
Another cliché: Omi can play piano
And it's the only thing his parents tought him that he loves. Playing helps him to calm down
Is very private, but as soon as he starts to trust you, he will immediately blurt out his life story, dreams, fears etc
Though he can't see an actual game, Omi likes to go on a quidditch game, because of the happy energy around him
Is sick most of the time for some reason. Cold, stomach ache or anything really
Also a nerd. But unlike Sebastian he's a fiction lover. Helps him to escape reality, especially in his family's house
Clingy with everyone he loves bc they make him feel safe
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spinchip · 5 months
Text
BEEN THERE ONCE BEFORE AND I WISH THAT I NEVER DIED
Pairings: none Word count: 6500 Warning: Graphic depictions of violence and death. Gore, murder, Ear trauma and limb loss tw
Summary: Zane would do anything to keep the ninja safe.
*
There is a pot of tea between you, sitting in Master Wu's private garden right outside the door to his room, and it’s some sort of oolong blend with a sweet smelling screen hanging over it. Osmanthus flowers float in your cup and you trace their pattern, watching them shift idly in what little breeze this summer day has brought you. The tea is too bitter despite the honey you’d added, over-steeped and thick on your tongue.
There is a sword on his lap, a sleek red sheath and neatly wrapped handles. There are no adornments on this blade, it is plain and unassuming, a tool for its master and whatever that may entail. Master Wu had asked you out here, months after the desperate fight for Ninjago at the corridor of elders (even longer after you had been torn apart by a power that was never yours to hold,) and the rattlesnake smile he’d offered as he’d led you out vanished the moment you were hidden from prying eyes. He makes your tea silently, and he burns it.
He looks at you in a way that makes you bristle, with eyes that no longer see you as human. Your silver skin itches, your tea tastes like ash.
“Do you know what a ninja is, historically?” He asks you finally, his voice quiet but clear over the space between you.
You do not, but you could look it up in an instant. You don’t do that either. He does not expect you to answer.
“They were said to be assassins. Hired blades sent to the house of the lands lord to slaughter them- the last recorded deaths by these assassins was years and years ago, but that was not the end of the era of the ninja. They snuck between the shadows, they pulled their hidden weapons, and they eliminated their targets cleanly and efficiently.” He waits, gauging your reaction. You can feel his eyes sit heavy on where your hands are deceptively calm around your tea cup, assessing, searching for something like he had that day he’d first laid eyes upon you in the frozen pond.
A phantom of a red flashes across your HUD that screams DANGER- and despite how there is no real warning clawing its way across your eyes, you know you should be afraid anyway. Tread carefully, you are in dangerous territory. Do not react. Control.
“Is this a history lesson?”
“Perhaps.” Master Wu murmurs, finding something in your expression with those dark eyes.
“The best way to defeat my enemy is to make him my friend.” You can’t help but say, a parrot of his own words, your eyes calculating.
“And if your kindness is rejected?” He does not skip a beat.
You hesitate, the clink of your cup as you set it down on the table too loud on your ears.
“You are no longer a child, Zane. Your innocence died with the Overlord. The others still have that innocence.” You jerk, the reminder of your death bruising on your soul, but he doesn't handle you with kid gloves, “You’ve killed once, to protect them.” Sensei Wu does not touch his tea, and there is a rising sickness in your stomach, “Can you do it again?”
He draws the blade and it’s blood red, holding it out to you, handle first.
To protect them?
His eyes are dark and there’s a danger there, but he has always been kind to you. Like a father when yours had vanished, warm smiles and encouraging words flashing across your eyes. Visions of fire and blood and death color your head along with it, superimposed on top of your friends and family. You’d do anything to protect the people you love, wouldn’t you?
The sword is a healthy weight in your palm.
---
Police tape surrounds a dilapidated old building, great yellow swathes of it wrapped down the sidewalk into the street and officers at each corner standing vigil over the body slumped half in the gutter and covered by a sheet. News vans line the street waiting for the opportunity to film once the coroner has packed away the gore and it’s mostly family-friendly for the afternoon broadcast. Flood lights and lamps are set up around the premise, little yellow evidence markers salting the earth down the doors of the warehouse and up to the body. Apparently deceptively unassuming, the Mechanics home base is filled to the brim with his lackeys and stolen tech- or, it was.
“I guess the Mechanic got tangled up with the wrong guy.” Kai says breathlessly, spooked as the camera pans over the overflowing body bags being loaded into the coroner's van.
The Commissioner taps the remote to his VCR on his leg anxiously, “You heard on the news already, i’m sure, but we suspect the unsub used a long blade of some kind,” He’s visibly shaken, “A sword, perhaps- the evidence was very…” he makes a slashing motion from his throat, miming blood striping the wall behind him.
A blood spattered window, the killing so brutal a heavy streak of gore laced up the glass, is still visible to the probing crime scene photographer.
The graying man slides a manila folder thick with printed pictures across the table and Jay pointedly pushes it away from himself, looking queasy. You reach out and pick it up with hands that seem to float endlessly away from your body, but you’ve felt like this since stumbling home two nights ago when the moon was full and no one else was awake. You don’t hesitate to open it, staring down at the first photo with mild surprise.
Cole jerks away before steeling himself and glancing back over. The picture shouldn’t surprise you, but it does anyway. It looks so messy. The body in the street can barely be recognized in the photo, too mutilated- the only identifying feature being the mechanical hand resistant to the blades of a sword. The mechanic had been reduced to mince meat, blood seeping up through shredded flesh and broken bones. Blood flows in a river down the stairs of the warehouse, down onto the sidewalk, flowing into the gutters.
“This seems… motivated.” Lloyd grimaces at the image but doesn’t look away.
“That’s certainly one word for it,” The commissioner huffs, “We’ve been calling it ‘unhinged.’”
You flip to the next image. Bodies piled on top of each other, strewn across the room, throats slit and bellies gutted and in one particularly horrific scene brain matter and skull fragments rendering a man unrecognizable.
Your memories of that night are fuzzy and nebulous.
Nya takes one of the photos, “Who would do something like this?”
“We were hoping you knew,” A beat- the man sighs, “The mechanic, he’s hard to keep tabs on. We didn’t really know who his enemies were other than those present, and you all had the most contact with him, but it’s too much to hope you have a lead for us, huh?”
He blows out an explosive breath, “Tell me, does the attack itself look familiar in any way? Anyone who comes to mind who has the capability to do something like that?”
You shake your head, blue boring holes into the eyes of a henchman who died trying to hold his intestines inside his gut, “No,” Your voice doesn't waver, “I’ve never seen anything like this.”
---
Wu touches your shoulder firm and bruising but your skin cant purple under his nails anymore, “It gets easier.”
---
You stand in the threshold of the jail cell, the body in the room covered by a sheet. You had wondered if that really happened, bodies covered up by the police like in television dramas- this is the second time you’ve seen it. It won’t be the last. It’s interesting to know how fiction gets it right, sometimes. Kai distinctly can’t look, turned away, but you haven't been squeamish in a long time. You crouch low, reaching for the edge of the blanket to see, and Nya makes a disgusted noise in the back of her throat when you lift the sheet to look.
This death is far more refined than the massacre you’d investigated this month- A clean cut across his throat, blood coating his sleep shirt and dried to the corners of his mouth. Droplets of red sprinkle his face where he’d tried to breathe through the ruined hole of his throat, coughing a plume of blood into the air that rained down on him as he died. His skin is waxy and his eyes glazed and clouded, he’s been dead for hours- but you knew that already.
Nya coughs, “Can you cover him up, please?”
You oblige, “I was trying to see what Information I could gather.” the sheet falls back over his face, hiding him away. There’s no reason to cover him up, the other inmates are locked in their cells until the investigation finishes and the body is removed. Privacy is a moot point, but maybe it’s about respect.
Lloyd turns away from where he’s shifting through the inmates belongings, “Well, anything?”
“He was killed hours ago. He’s been dead for a long while.” How much to say? “The murder weapon was a blade.”
“Same as the Mechanic.” Jay says from where he’s outside the cell and out of line of sight, the dead body and blood making him sick, “Did Fugi-Dove and him have any connections?”
“Not that we know of.” Nya frowns, crossing her arms over her chest and trying to convince everyone she’s unaffected by this, “Only us. It just seems so weird- He’s a small fry compared to the mechanic, why kill him? He’s harmless!”
“He broke Jay's elbow last week,” You remind her, “He was not harmless. Perhaps he had more secrets than we thought.”
“Who found him?” Cole murmurs, carefully keeping away from touching the crime scene.
“Eight AM guard round,” You answer him, standing up, “The four AM patrol missed him. Both officers were interrogated, but nothing came of it. It doesn’t appear to have been an inside job.”
“The culprit snuck into kryptarium prison, killed a man, and snuck out with none the wiser?” Nya snorts, “This place has gone to the dogs.”
Jay taps his foot impatiently and it echoes down the hallway, “Well, it’s not like Warden Noble runs a very tight ship around here, despite what he wants you to think. How many escaped convicts do we deal with on a weekly basis?”
“So what do we do about this?” Kai asks, frowning at the lump on the ground.
Fugi-dove was half slumped off his bed, his back flush to the ground and his legs still thrown over his bed and tangled up in his bedsheets. He’d been awake when he was attacked, his cheeks bitten to hell as if he’d attempted to scream through a hand sealed over his mouth that only let go once his vocal cords had been slashed through, and in his desperate attempt to stop from bleeding out or drowning in his own blood he’d thrashed himself right to the floor.
“We’ll look at the tapes and see what we can find.” Lloyd answers casually. Darkleys prepared him for death and gore, it didn’t bother him like it should.
“I thought officer Pey told us we were in a blind spot,” Cole points out, stepping out of the cell followed by Lloyd.
“Warden Noble used to be the principle of Darkleys,” the green ninja waits for you to join them on the other side of the cell. You feel cold all over, “And if there’s one thing I'm certain of, the man has eyes everywhere.”
“Does he?” You ask, fingers going numb.
Lloyd nods and locks the cell door behind you, “There will be tapes. He should be here any minute now, Officer Pey says he comes in at 10:00 on Saturdays.”
As if on cue, the Warden appears in a frenzy, tearing into the hallway and bee lining for the cell. He grimaces at the covered up body, “I leave Pey in charge for one night…” He sighs, pushing his glasses up to rub at his eyes, “Great.”
“Good morning, Warden.” Jay greets cheerfully.
“Says who?” The man replies darkly, “The media is gonna tear me a new one. This is going to lower our reputation even more.”
“Let us help you put the culprit behind these bars,” Lloyd offers, stepping forward with green ninja grace.
“I don’t think that’d do any good, he already got out once.” Kai mutters.
The warden graciously ignored Kai’s comment, “I haven't even had coffee yet.” He complains, running a rough hand over his mouth as he glares at the body.
“You had hidden cameras?” Lloyd pushes and the Warden nods, motioning to an inconspicuous looking fire alarm.
“It’s fake,” He tells him.
You walk towards it. A strange sense of doom washes over you, numbness following it. A camera. Evidence. How clearly would they be able to see the killer's face?
“Let me be of assistance,” You offer, casually making it to the alarm first. The moment you manage to open the glorified nanny cam and your fingers close around the USB, you focus a concentrated pulse of electromagnetic energy and wipe it clean. Anything saved to the storage space will have been obliterated, gone, corrupted and unsalvageable. You can feel your hands again.
“How could this have happened?” The warden asks, clicking through the empty USB over and over looking for footage that no longer exists.
Lloyd glances at you, but there’s no suspicion, “Was there anything weird about the camera? Had it been tampered with?”
You touch your chin and try not to let your hands shake, “No, but it was not a very complex mechanism. It could easily have been opened by someone familiar with this type of surveillance.”
“Someone from Darkleys?” Nya suggests.
Lloyd hums in thought, “I don’t know. It’s worth looking into.”
“When did we become detectives?” Jay complains, “Can’t you guys just call us when you need us to spinjitzu this guy?”
“Don’t be a baby.”
Jay pulls a face at that, “I’m a ninja! I shouldn’t have to put up with all this- this blood!”
“Do you know what a ninja is, historically?” you murmur.
No one hears you.
---
There are four more deaths the following month, both somewhat well-known villains with a penchant for collateral damage. The same slashing wounds as the last. Lloyd is the only person in the group who doesn’t look affected by the barrage of gore he’s being subjected to- other than you, of course. He’s reading over the newest police report that’d come their way with a hum, “He’s getting bolder.” He concludes, flipping through the crime scene pictures at the end.
“Bolder?” Cole questions, “It seems to me like he’s winding down. His first kill was the Mechanic and everyone working under him- 16 deaths on that one alone. Now he’s down to one.”
“The Mechanic was messy,” he examines the pictures, noting just how clean the newest death was. Not a drop of blood out of place other than the pool growing under the body, “He was surprised by all the people- he never intended to kill anyone other than their leader, that’s why that kill was so disorganized. It’s why the mechanic was nearly able to escape, before he caught him in the street. The bank barely needed to mop the floor for this one. He’s refined his skill.”
“He left Reflectras sidekick unharmed.” Kai pointed out, “What’s different between then and now?”
Lloyd flipped a picture his way- it’s a still from a grainy security camera. Reflectra is already dead in the photo, her blood turned black on the monochromatic footage. The teen girl she’d been toting around with her was cowering under the teller counter, and standing just outside the blood was a figure dressed in all black. From the girl's testimony, the gray toned lion's mask he wore was red and gold in person, lips drawn back in a snarl that showed off fangs, a thick head of coarse blonde hair coming out of the mask to hide any other possible identifying features.
“He is wearing a mask.” You say, peering down at the picture.
“He’s hiding his face.” Lloyd clarifies before banging out a few words into the computer's search engine, pulling up a street festival that happened two weeks ago and swiveling the computer screen around so everyone could see it, “And it's a new purchase.”
Staring back at them was a picture of downtown Ninjago filled with people, food stalls and other vendors lining the sidewalks as people milled about. Half the people walking the street were wearing the same exact lion mask as their killer, now in vivid technicolor. You could see the stalls selling them- masks lined wall to wall. It seemed everyone was buying them. It wouldn't have looked out of place at all for the murderer to buy it for himself and squirrel it away for his late night acts.
“He killed the Mechanics goons because they saw his face. He doesn’t want witnesses.” Nya connects, “Aimi was only spared because he has a way to kill anonymously.”
“And with a virtually untraceable origin. That mask is everywhere, now.” Jay continued with a frown.
“It’s not a total dead end. We can still talk to the stall owners, maybe see if they noticed anyone strange buying from them.” He navigates to the festival's website, opening up the vendor list.
There are twelve souvenir stalls in total, and five of them are solely dedicated to masks.
You make a surprised noise in the back of your throat, “Saori Sato. I recognize that name. I believe I taught her son when we were working at the school.” You comment, “I have a rapport with her, I should be able to get her to speak with me easily.”
Lloyd accepts your lie with a nod, “The rest of us will work on the others, then. Hopefully we’ll have some luck.”
You don’t go to see Saori Sato. You sit on the rooftop of her apartment complex and meditate. You try to meditate. There’s a peace that’s absent in you, now, that doesn’t let your mind slip into calm like it used to be able to. There’s always a buzzing under your skin, in your wires.
You brought your sword, the one with the red blade.
You sharpen it until your mind stops racing. It’s like a razor blade now, and you imagine the sting it would cause as you run your metal fingers up the sharp side. You can perfectly imagine how blood would drip down it, now. You go home.
Everyone comes up empty, of course, because Saori Sato sold that mask, and you didn’t speak to her.
---
“You seem unphased with the murders.” You say to Lloyd, after the others have gone to bed and it’s just the two of you up, pouring over the case files. When Lloyd goes to bed, so will you.
He shrugs and sips at his coffee- filled to the brim with cream and sugar, “Darkleys wasn’t just about ruling the world in the big picture. They taught us the small stuff too, including desensitizing us to death.”
There’s nothing to say to that, so you don’t respond. You go back to looking over the papers again, pretending to search for an angle they hadn’t considered yet.
“You want to know something funny?” He says with a little laugh, staring down at the Mechanics' torn up body.
“What is it?” You ask.
A darkness settles over the room, thick and viscous. It seems to flood your mouth and fill your chest. Lloyd looks at you with bright eyes that pin you in place, “I checked your roster. I went through all the kids you taught at the school- and I didn’t find any Satos in the class.” he says with a lopsided smile, eyes burning your skin, assessing, searching for something, “Isn’t that weird?”
Your coolant has turned to ice in your limbs and your body feels numb, “Not at all,” You say cooly, “Sato is her maiden name. Her son has his fathers last name, Maeda.”
He finds something in your expression and- his shoulder slump, “Oh,” He says, blinking. “FSM, i’m sorry- I just-”
“It is alright, Lloyd.” You say graciously, “This has been stressful for us all, and you haven't been sleeping. Perhaps you should get some rest.” rising from your chair, you go to his side and help him to his feet. He allows you to walk him back to his room.
“Let’s start fresh tomorrow.”
“That sounds good.” Lloyd allows with an exhausted yawn. He disappears into his room.
---
Everything hurts.
Your eyes are blurred and blocked by another pop up- WARNING! WARNING! DAMAGE- you dismiss the banner as quickly as it arrives, but that doesn’t stop you from miscounting a step and slamming into the stone staircase, all your weight cracking down on the pointed edges. You scramble to hold onto the steps with your working arm before you can go tumbling back down to the bottom, taking a few breaths that you don’t need to take to help center yourself.
Clambering back to your feet, you check you haven't splattered coolant or oil on the stairwell before you continue up. Clean.
Reaching the monastery, you avoid the main gate. Instead, you shimmy up the courtyard wall and slink silently across the roof until you’re standing above your room. It’s easier with two hands, but you manage to swing yourself off the roof by the tiles and onto the window ledge, barely finessing your way inside without causing a commotion or accidentally falling off the cliff face. You don’t collapse no matter how badly you want to.
First things first- you pry up the loose floorboard under your nightstand and stuff the sword and mask inside, sliding the stand on top of the hiding place. You strip the bloody clothes off and grit your teeth as you peel it away from the mess of your left arm, refusing to scream. Not even allowing a whimper. You’ve had worse- this- this is nothing. Loose pants, loose shirt- long sleeve, of course, just in case anyone was up late getting a glass of water.
It’s late enough that even Jay should be asleep, and the empty garage confirms it.
It takes you two hours to knit the delicate machinery in your arm back together, and another hour fitting a new plate cover so nothing would seem amiss. You take the ravaged pieces of your arm up stairs and pack it under your nightstand too, so there’s no chance of evidence possibly being found.
You collapse now, face first on the bed, and not three hours after that you’re shaken awake.
Nya looks grim, “There’s been another murder.”
In your exhausted, near delirious state, you barely manage to catch yourself before you say I Know.
---
It’s cold this time of year, and it shows. The others are bundled up against the incoming chill of the season, coats and scarves worn on top of their ninja suits. You’re wearing a sweater too, but there’s a cold in you that will never be warm. You’re all behind Laughys Karaoke bar deep in the alley while the police guard the mouth of it, refusing to let reporters or curious civilians get a look.
There’s a detective with you, hanging back and allowing you all to examine the scene.
“Who is this guy?” Cole eventually asks, resisting the urge to nudge his face into view.
The detective steps forward, “His name is Killow. Ninjago PD have had their eye on him for a while- he’s been arrested for petty crimes in the past, but from the intel they’d begun to gather he’d joined an up and coming gang and had climbed pretty high in the ranks. They called him the Big Man.”
‘Big” was an understatement. The man was a brick house, every muscle worked until it bulged. It seems his gym habits had helped a little, even if the end result was still the same.
Lloyd examines his throat, “The first cut didn’t go deep enough.” He comments. There's blood splattered all over the alley, obvious signs of a struggle. Trash was everywhere, torn open bags and the big blue dumpster was dented from Killow slamming the assailant into the metal, more chipped bricks and dented cans revealed just how close Killow had come to walking away from this attempt on his life.
That same dumpster with the largest dent was where Killow had dug his fingers into the murderer's arm and torn through it, spraying metal and wiring across the ground with barely a flick of his wrist. No one knew that but you, and you didn’t share it. The area had been scrupulously cleaned.
“He got him.” Kai commented, “He hurt him pretty bad.”
“How do you know that?” Nya questioned.
Kai gestures to his hands, “Look at his nails. He scratched him, and no one is walking away from that unscathed.” Killows nails were broken and bleeding, torn and snapped off nearly at the cuticle with how hard he’d fought.
“It didn’t help him enough,” Lloyd sighs, standing up, “The second cut was vertical, sliced right through the artery from cheek to chest. He bled out."
“Poor guy.” Jay commented, slowly getting used to the sight of death as he frowned down at the man.
They didn’t know who he was, or what gang he was in- if they did, they’d understand why he had to be put down. The Sons of Garmadon was new and already it was strong, the ranks thick with people who didn’t care about harming others if it furthered their own goals. They were excellent at keeping a low profile while they gained power. It doesn’t escape your notice that the detective avoided naming the gang he was part of. Killow was a bigger cog in that machine, but he wasn’t the only leader the gang members looked to. Your research and surveillance had revealed three of the four ringleaders to you- Killow, Ultraviolet, and, a man you had never seen but had heard referenced several times, Mr. E. They reported to the highest ranking member of the gang, the Quiet One. All you knew about her was that she was a woman.
You stare down at his body and feel no sympathy.
---
“Is there a reason you don’t want me in your head?” Pixal asks bluntly one day, once you’ve gone to visit her at Borg Tower.
Once you’d gotten back to Ninjago City proper, you’d dropped her off with her father with every intention of picking her up later. She’d offered to stick around in your mind for a while, and you’d been happy at the idea- but then Master Wu gave you that sword, and things got more complicated. She hadn’t brought it up for the past few months, but each time you left her without a hint of bringing her along, she had certainly noticed. Now it was her breaking point. She stopped you in the doorway with her words, on your way out.
Your heart had turned numb the moment you took the sword from Wu. In another life, you could have loved her like she deserved.
“My feelings for you…” You turn back to the room, to the screen she's projected her image to so she can look you in the eyes, “…Have changed.” you finish hollowly.
She blinks. She’s perfectly still, “I see.”
“Thank you.” You say softly, “For everything.”
There’s a pause as she studies you, “Is this the end? Will you no longer come to see me?”
The part of you that wants her in your life twinges in pain, the first emotion you’d felt in days, “I believe that is for the best.”
You won’t take her down this path with you.
“Goodbye, Pixal.”
“I will respect your wishes,” She folds her hands in front of her, the perfect picture of poise, “Goodbye, Zane.”
---
Humans are so fragile. Ultraviolet liked to pretend she was tough, like she could take hits others couldn’t- but when it came down to it, her throat sliced just as easily as any others. Her hands were coated in her own blood from where she’s grabbed at her throat, but it was too late, and the slice was too technically perfect. Her knees had hit the ground first and she’d tried to twist, searching for something, eyes wild and mouth gurgling with words that couldn’t form around the blood in her mouth. She fell sideways, skin turning even paler than it already was, and then everything had stopped. The sprinkling rain washed the blood off her lips and diluted the river flowing from her neck. She almost looked like she was sleeping.
You stand over her motionlessly.
“Hey!” A voice cracks across the cool night air, and you turn to the side. You’re on the sidewalk in front of a motorcycle store that Ultraviolet had been intending on robbing, in plain sight. Across the street, up the road, is Nya. She’s not dressed in her ninja suit and her hair is down loose, the wet jeans and soaked hair hindering her sprint as she tears down the road to get to you.
You’re moving before you can think, clambering up the front of the store and up to the roof in record time, purposefully doing something that would be nearly impossible in skinny jeans to deter her. You don’t hesitate to race across the roof and leap to the next, jumping down the fire escape to the next alley and slipping through a thin corridor between two buildings. The sounds of the chase fade to nothing as you outpace her, weaving through back alleys and neighborhoods you’d become intimately familiar with that she didn’t know. After ten more minutes of running, you spin around and head straight for the monastery.
Nya wasn’t expecting to see you, or be witness to the next murder- it was raining- she wouldn't have her phone. That’s your only salvation. She didn’t have her phone.
You take all the shortcuts you know, running until your screen flashes with warnings. You recover from any stumbles in a millisecond. You get home in record time, basically throwing yourself into your room and ripping the mask off. Flinging your mask and sword into your closet and stripping off your wet turtleneck, you close the closet door and dive into bed. The blankets get yanked up to your shoulder and you close your eyes, feigning sleep, and wait.
Android stamina will always outpace humans. You beat Nya home.
She shouts for you all the moment she's through the door, throwing open your doors in her haste to get you up and mobilize after the murderer. She opens your door to you sitting up in bed, clearly woken up from sleep and giving her an openly bewildered expression.
You jump out of bed and throw on your ninja suit, joining the others on the porch as you all gear up.
---
You don’t find the murderer. No one else does either.
Kai looks at you, once you’re all home and exhausted after the all night search. Everyone is soaked and ready to go to bed, dispersing with low spirits and tired eyes. Kai stands in the entryway, dripping wet, and he really looks at you.
You give him a questioning eyebrow raise.
“You know you can tell me anything, right?” He says finally, “I won’t judge you.”
“…I know.”
He stares at you, eyes smoldering. He’s in pain. “There’s blood on your collar.” He says finally.
You look down at it- it’s barely noticeable. There must have been a few droplets on your chin that ran down with the water. If you’d been wearing black, he wouldn’t have been able to tell. Your ninja suit is white.
“It’s oil.” You say softly, the patch is just old and watered down enough that you could pass it off for brown.
“Okay.” Kai says. He looks like he’s going to cry.
He looks like he’s afraid of you.
---
Mr.E vanishes after Ultraviolets assassination. You look for him during SoG meetings and you keep an ear out, but he’s nowhere to be seen or heard. The gang is falling apart, half the newer members jumping ship- chances are Mr.E saw the writing on the wall and got out before his neck was next. You could respect that. You might even thank him for it, because if he hadn’t abandoned his post there’s a chance you would have never found out who the quiet one was.
There’s three totally unqualified people at this meeting so far, the members that had ranked directly below the previous three. Their skills were lacking, but their loyalty was rock solid. That was the Quiet Ones main priority after Mr.E’s Irish goodbye. The three were clearly nervous even though they were trying to appear tough- the taller girl even attempting to do tricks with her butterfly knife to appear cool and intimidating. It might have worked if she didn’t drop the blade every other trick.
A door opens and shuts in the silence, the black night outside offering no clue to the newcomers identity. She doesn’t leave them in suspense, though, striding into the light with a stormy expression. She starts talking immediately, taking their names and offering her own.
“You may call me the Quiet One.” She instructs them.
“You’re really the quiet one?” The man says, eyebrows raised in surprise.
“Yes. Is there an issue?”
“None at all, ma’am.” He responds gruffly, dipping his head.
That’s all the confirmation you need. You slide to the edge of the exposed beam you’re sitting on, swinging down by your arms before you drop straight into the middle of the group. Your feet slam onto the table and the things tilts- you hadn’t anticipated it, so you end up going left instead of right. Instead of the single clean kill you came here for, you’re thrown into butterfly knife girl and the scene becomes a lot more grisly. Your stumble gave them time to process your intentions- you relied on surprise. Now this would get messy.
Knife girl stabs you in the chest. Her knife gets stuck. While she’s trying to rip it out of your skin, you sever her hands at the wrist. She screams and doesn’t stop.
The bigger male lunges for your throat and you hold your sword up so it plunges straight through his chest, his own momentum forcing it through muscle and the delicate capillaries in his lungs. That doesn’t stop him and his hands are on your throat- it doesn't do anything, of course, because you don't need to breathe. He keeps squeezing, and your neck strains. He could pop your head off if he tried. Your sword is buried in his chest and you can’t back up enough to get the space to pull it out.
You reach up and fumble for the butterfly knife, ripping it out of your chest and whipping it around to slam it directly into his ear. He howls in pain, releasing your neck to scrabble at his head before you use the knife to slice him from ear to collarbone. He collapses and the sword slides out of his body.
Knife girl has gone silent, bleeding to death from the ruined arteries in her wrists.
The other woman throws something the moment her shot is clear and on reflex you catch it. It’s a throwing knife and dangling from the handle-
You dart it back at her before you can finish understanding the word bomb. She’s not expecting such fast reflexes, so she’s not prepared for the knife to bury itself in her chest.
Then it explodes.
You spin around, preparing for the Quiet One to attack you next-
The door is open, and she’s gone.
The worst part about all of this is that you didn’t recognize her. Running her face through your facial recognition software came up empty too- so did cross checking any and every news outlet, hoping to see her face maybe in the back of a crowd. Nothing.
That could have been your only chance.
---
“I have been in your shoes before, I know this is hard. You must be prepared to do everything to protect them.” Master Wu had said after you had vomited up your dinner the night of the Mechanics murder, “This path will cost you everything.”
“Everything?” You questioned, staring down at the toilet bowl.
“But they will be safe.” He reassures you, gripping your shoulder tightly.
---
You don’t let the two parts of your life overlap. You don’t. The nights you go out, you are a serial killer. The next morning you are Zane, elemental master of ice, the titanium ninja. Zane is not tainted by all the blood and death and gore. Zane is not a murderer. You don’t ever use your sword as Zane, and you never use your shurikens as the serial killer. Everything would fall apart if you couldn’t keep them separate.
As you stand in the palace and the emperor introduces his daughter, your hands twitch for your sword the moment she opens her mouth. The face paint. You weren't able to discover her identity because of the face paint. Caked on so thick that her bare face looked like a completely different woman-
The emperor's daughter Harumi, and the Quiet One. Two parts of her life that aren't supposed to overlap.
“-Zane: The cold and calculating android.” She names you sweetly, voice honey thick. There’s a manic, wild edge to her eyes that the face paint can’t hide.
It makes sense. Her three most trusted advisors were murdered or abandoned her, and their replacements were slaughtered immediately after. The Sons of Garmadon had begun to collapse, fractioning off into smaller gangs with their own leaders. The main faction still had a substantial number of die-hard loyalists who were growing more and more extreme by the day. Robbery, assault, murder- they were wreaking havoc on Ninjago. They even managed to steal the Oni Mask of Vengeance. Now, her eyes slid over to Lloyd and locked onto him. She slipped a new mask on, one that was shy and flirtatious. The Quiet One wanted Lloyd wrapped around her finger.
But Harumi and the Quiet One weren’t supposed to exist at the same time.
Neither were Zane and the serial killer.
Inevitably, though, two worlds will always collide. Maybe the two parts of her and you were never supposed to live separate forever. Maybe you shouldn’t have taken that sword from Wu. Maybe you should have brought it with you so that Zane didn’t have to use his shuriken.
“Thank you for this opportunity,” You say clearly into the cold, cold room. Or maybe you’re the cold one, “I will not let it pass me by.”
There’s blood on your shuriken.
You collect your mask and your sword from underneath the floorboards in your bedroom and run.
They’re safe. They’ll always be safe.
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cynoswhore · 1 year
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my favorite characters and their kinks.
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ayato : body worship. there’s nothing more sexy to him than someone who treats him like a god. maybe it’s from his spoiled lifestyle as a child, but he wants his sweetheart to obey him. to worship him.
cyno : corruption. turning an innocent little pet into something unrecognizable. no one would believe that the general maramatra has such a little whore for a partner.
layla : somnophilia. she wants to wake up to your fingers deep inside of her, a hand cupped over her mouth to muffle her sleepy moans and softly closed eyes while the pleasure consumes her.
lisa : name calling & teasing. ever since you’ve known her, she’s been teasing you in public and private. watching as her sweet little sub gets all needy and can’t do anything about it but whine. pathetic.
rosaria : knives. whether it’s you holding a knife to her throat or her holding one to yours, the blades and risk make her craving for you just all that more intense. cold metal pressed against warm skin, threatening to cut you if you aren’t well behaved.
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benkeibear · 1 year
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☰ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭
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⧫ Character: Taiju
⧫ Reader: genderneutral | AFAB
⧫ WARNINGS: Sub!Reader, mentions of sex while pregnant, anal, choking, daddy kink, oral (m! And f! Receiving), breeding
⧫ A/n: don’t want to miss a post? Sign up for my Taglist in my Navi! (This is a repost from my old blog)
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
ꕤ He's very gentle after, no matter how rough He was before
ꕤ makes sure you’re okay and helps you to clean up, will cuddle you if you ask
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
ꕤ He likes his biceps because He's strong and you made him like his hands again, knowing He can be gentle
ꕤ on you He likes your chest and your smile, his heart could explode when you give him one of your sweet smiles
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
ꕤ Always in you, doesn't want to waste a drop of his cum
ꕤ He cums quite a lot and it's rather thin, almost translucent and tastes slightly bitter but nothing too bad
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
ꕤ He really wants to fuck you while you’re pregnant with his child, it's the hottest thing to imagine for him but He would never do it unless you suggest it
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
ꕤ despite what people believe since He was in a Gang and all He saved himself for marriage
ꕤ all the experience He had was from porn and magazines but he's a natural, reading your body language well
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
ꕤ face down, ass up or mating press
ꕤ loves to have full control over you as He pounds his release Into you
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
ꕤ given that Taiju isn’t really a goofy person he's also quite serious in bed
ꕤ But not in an awkward poker face way, more in a concentrated way
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
ꕤ He either has a small bush or trims it, depends on how he's feeling lately
ꕤ if you want him to shave it off He would gladly do so for you - but only if you go bare as well
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
ꕤ He went all out on your wedding night, candles and rose petals formed to a heart on the bed on which He rocked into you with utmost care
ꕤ But those romantic moments are reserved for special occasions
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
ꕤ Before marriage He had to almost daily, getting frustrated from how much you turn him on
ꕤ now He just asks his pretty wife to take care of him, a simple hand job would be enough as long as it's from you
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
ꕤ Daddy kink, breeding kink, corruption kink, dacryphilia
ꕤ likes to choke you as well if the mood is right
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
ꕤ Mainly on the bed or the shower
ꕤ He's a very private man so mostly in your apartment
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
ꕤ having You dressed up in white lace, looking all innocent and submissive
ꕤ When you listen to what He tells you to do without questioning it
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
ꕤ fear play, non con, sharing you
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
ꕤ prefers receiving, especially if you initiate and sit on the floor between his legs and let him guide you
ꕤ if you ask him to, He will also eat you out, prefers to have you sitting on his face then but you're only allowed to get off of him when He had enough
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
ꕤ He's quite brutal, pounding into you so his balls slap against your skin over and over
ꕤ even during the romantic times He can’t help himself but to pound into you
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
ꕤ doesn't like them at all
ꕤ wants to have as much time with his wife as He wants. If there's no time He makes time for it
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
ꕤ He would never do anything in public, maybe the staff room of his restaurant after closing time
ꕤ otherwise He would try out things He thinks would be nice or if you ask him for it
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
ꕤ He can go 4-5 rounds and lasts quite long as well
ꕤ there's no time needed between each round, wanting to fill you up as many times as He can
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
ꕤ He doesn't own any toys for himself but has a pretty collar for you and a few small toys He likes to use on you
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
ꕤ not much, He prefers to overstimulate until you're crying
ꕤ don't even think about teasing him, He will only get mad
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
ꕤ He's growling a lot and moans very low when He cums
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
ꕤ if He gets angry with you He punishes you right away, either by refusing you an orgasm or by taking you from behind, bullying his cock into your ass
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
ꕤ nice length of 8 inches but he's very thick, you can't wrap your hand around him completely and it does hurt without some prepping
ꕤ He's cut and has a red tip, and two veins that connect into one on the side of his shaft
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
ꕤ very high, especially if you're trying for a child
ꕤ if it's up to him you two are at it like bunnies
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
ꕤ The more rounds you two had, the faster He falls asleep
ꕤ But no matter how tired He is, He will always clean you up and make sure you’re okay and feel loved
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shadowlinktheshadow · 2 months
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ok fuck it im finally gonna write down ramble about the similarities between castle in the sky and spirit tracks rhghghrr
case #1: the characters
in my very private and running around inside my mind headcanons, I see a lot of close things between pazu and link
pazu is a sweet boy (maybe even naive) who helps those in need (like every protagonist) hes a very dedicated worker in the mines, and loves machinery
same could be said for link, who never talks in game but shows his shyness and and also sweet nature. (perhaps this is only around zelda,) you could take the fact that he doesnt even want to get up at the beginning of the game to take his exam because he dislikes the job, but this is where my headcanons come in. in short, hes a child genius and a perfectionist and works himself a little too much, and gets really eepy. so yes he loves machines (trains) as well
oh, and they are both orphans. (link is a bit difficult because hes usually always some type of parentless/guardianless child but anyways-)
and even other than personality and hobbies, their looks have similar parts too
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of course, theyre not carbon copies of each other (such as colors being different) but the gloves and, especially to me, the cap is the one that sticks out. like. no other zelda game has him wearing a hat like that
(I just realized the gloves r the same color holy shit 💀) ((bruh and the posture lmao💀💀))
now I dont have much to say about sheeta and zeldas similarities (sorry) but they are both royals (well 1 of royal descent)
case #2: character relationships
spirit tracks zelink is what is keeping me alive so heres some similarities
I love love love the "hopeless romantic commoner falls in love with literal princess (she loves him back)" trope. which, pazu and sheetas relationship is a little different, but the vibes are the same
both couples? pairs? are so innocently in love with each other (maybe link shows it more) but just look:
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they are so rhghghrhHRHFHFJJ HISS HISS HISS 💜💜💜💜💜😭😭🔥🔥💜
and finally the catching part in the movie
now you may ask "oh totk link caught zelda something something skyward sword falling blah blah blah" (im joking pls dont hate 💀) but this catch is different than those
they arent both falling, bro is already on the ground
you know who else is on the ground?
THIS BITCH
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pazu may seem more.. graceful in catching sheeta compared to link, but (according to my dad) the whole joke of link dropping zelda comes from this movie (I havent finished it so idk) but I do know pazu struggles under the weight of sheeta after all the magic stuff goes away 😂
case #3: minor stuff
so I havent watched the entire movie yet, but heres some other things I saw
birds
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they r both doves...... interesting....
though different, they also both play an instrument (link plays a panflute and pazu a trumpet)
also the design similarities in the robots and the phantoms, but ive run out of photos and time so that's kt
thanks for coming to my tedtalk (to the 3 people that will see this 💀)
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ungodlywords · 1 year
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KINKTOBER #13 DEEP THROAT
cw: blowjob | oral sex | deep throat | priest
word count: 1,071
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You've been a bad daughter. You've done things that have brought shame to your family. Why would you sneak outside of your dormitory and kiss a man when you're not even married? How could you? What drove you to do such a thing? You have to be possessed. That's right, the devil has taken possession of you. Their sweet innocent daughter would never do such a horrendous thing. That is, at least, what your family would like to believe.
Having extramarital affairs with a man and engaging in sinful behavior. Only the devil would give such orders to their daughter. They put you, their only daughter, in an all-girls Catholic school in the hopes that you would be educated, finish your studies, marry a nice man, settle down, and have a family. They didn't think that instead of being educated in how to be a proper lady, you would be corrupted to become someone's whore. That someone is the headmaster and the priest of the town.
You'd frequently find yourself bent over the headmaster's desk. His cock pounded your tight hole, underwear shoved aside. His low groans would make your heart race. Knowing that it's your pussy that has this god-fearing man addicted to you. All you have to do is give him a knowing look and you'll be soaked with his cum until it's streaming out of your holes. Now, because most of the pupils adore the headmaster and he is the only priest in town. He was invited by your parents to your loving home to pray for your soul. To make you right again. They had no idea they are inviting the man responsible for their daughter's corruption.
When the headmaster arrived at your house, you and your mother stood in the living room in your best Sunday attire. Your mother, for the most part, praised the towering muscular man of god for their presence in these trying times. Your parents explained the situation and he glanced at you and noticed the way you're biting your lower lip and giving him "the look". He swallowed his breath and smiled at your parents.
"I think it would be best if I talk to your daughter privately.", he suggested. They nod immediately and proceeded to escort both of you to a private room. You entered first and he followed. As soon as the door closed he locked the doors.
"So, apparently, you've been a naughty lady," he said. You nodded your head and smirked. "I believe it is better for you to repent your sins, my child," he added as he began to lift his cassock and unbutton his trousers. "Now, come closer and kneel," you were instructed, and you patiently waited until his pants fell to the floor and his cock was exposed in front of you.
"Open your mouth," he commanded and you did. He held his cock in his hand and slapped your tongue with it.
"Are you prepared to repent for your sins?
"Yes, Father," you could only utter as the headmaster forced his cock inside your mouth. You were taken aback by his unexpected movement. You were completely unprepared for this. He drew back for a moment and let you breathe, but only for a second before his cock was back inside your mouth. He groaned, feeling the warmth and tig of your mouth wrap around his semi-hard cock. He shoved his cock inside your throat slowly, and you gagged. That aroused his mind, and he began to push it deeper. You were clutching his legs fiercely. As he fucked your warm and tight throat, his hands held your head firmly. Thankfully, you were able to adjust to his rhythm. That's why you're his favorite. You pick up on things quite well.
The headmaster gripped your head firmly as he fucked your throat with short and powerful thrust building quickly to a brutal pace. You gagged and moaned as you were being abused by his cock. The cock that you fervently worship back at school. "Good girl! That's it. Repent!" he whispered in heated breaths. His toes curl at the overwhelming sensation in his body. "god will forgive you of your sins. god w-will forgive you.. i-i'll make sure of it. f-fucking warm. s-sooo good".
You let him have fun with your mouth. His tongue prodded and poked the walls of your throat. You eagerly await redemption for your sins. You hummed and bobbed your head in time with him. The headmaster growled at your action. He wanted it to last, but his body betrayed him. He groaned and thrust a couple more times before bursting fat ropes of sperm down your swelling throat. There was too much cum and you couldn't hold it in, but he held your head firmly as he shot another load till there was none left. As he looked at you, his chest heaved, "swallow," he ordered, and you closed your eyes as you gulped the thick hot fluid he poured inside your mouth, his now soft cock laying there.
He pulled away from your mouth, and you opened it to show him that you had swallowed everything. "Good girl," he remarked, making you blush. You adored it when he referred to you as his good girl. A knock on the door startled both of you, and you hurriedly stood up and fixed yourself. Where you were kneeling, a pool of liquid remained. You must have done it without realizing it. That swiftly faded from your consciousness as you exited the room. Your parents met you both and inquired as to what had occurred. The headmaster told your parents that he had spoken to you about the necessity of chastity and that god would undoubtedly forgive you. Both of your parents let out a relieved sigh, and your mother hugged you while your father shook the headmaster's hand.
You tried to say something, but your voice became hoarse. They all looked at you, and your mother just stated that her precious daughter must have had a cold. The headmaster couldn't help but chuckle because you both knew what had just happened and why your voice was so harsh. He left a few minutes later, and your mother ordered that you rest for the remainder of the day. You grinned in bed, thinking that you should sin more so you might have the chance to repent between the headmaster's legs again.
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