#so fucking clear that the first time someone lays a hand on my child should be the last fucking time
Text
fuck it i love you- c. sturniolo
pairing: fratboy!chris sturniolo x academicweapon!reader
summary: you and chris were on two completely opposite sides of the college spectrum. chris loves to party and hook up, and you love to stay in and do your homework. chris would never notice someone like you…right?
warnings: language, mentions of sex, angst, fluff, chris is lowkey an asshole at first but he gets better, reader is good at poker, some typos
masterlist
lowercase intended
you were never one for parties or large social gatherings in general. you are an introvert and very much a homebody, spending most of your time doing schoolwork or just lying in bed. because of this, you never made many friends as a child, and you especially never had a boyfriend.
chris was the complete opposite. chris loves parties and being around people. he can’t stand being in his house and doing nothing. since chris got to college, he spent most of his time at frat parties or hooking up with random girls. another thing about chris is that he’s never been the relationship type of guy. there was always an insane amount of girls that wanted him, but he never gave in, opting for random hookups.
you’re a sophomore in college and the only actual friend you’ve managed to make is your roommate, jasmine. she understood your introverted tendencies and respected them, but she was never afraid to urge you to get out of your comfort zone once in a while. right now, she’s trying to get you to attend a party that one of the school’s fraternities is throwing.
“come on y/n! it’ll be so fun!” jasmine begs. “i don’t like parties. i’d rather stay here and watch bridgerton.” you retort. “you’re always home and it worries me. you need actual human interaction. come on, please! i promise i won’t ask you to do anything like this again if you don’t have fun.” “i don’t know, jas.” you say skeptically. she gives you a look and you know she won’t give up until you go, so you give in. “fine.” you tell her with a roll of your eyes. she smiles and clasps her hands together. “yay! now let’s find you something to wear. i doubt you have anything, so you can borrow something of mine.” jasmine heads towards her closet and digs through until she pulls out a skintight light pink minidress. your jaw drops. “absolutely not.” “you’re wearing this y/n. it’s gonna look so good on you.” she walks over to you and throws it on your bed.
you pick it up and hold it against your body. “oh my god jas. my ass is gonna be on display!” you tell her. “don’t worry girl you have a great ass and you should show it off.” she winks. “okay the party starts in twenty minutes and we still have to get ready so come on.” jasmine leads you into the bathroom and does your hair and makeup first. she spends about half an hour on it before she finishes. you look at yourself in the mirror and gasp. “wow i look so good.” you smile at your reflection. “you’re welcome. now go get dressed.” you walk over to your bed where the dress lays and you quickly undress and throw it on, along with some clear wedges you had stuffed in the back of your closet.
jasmine finishes getting ready and she walks out of the bathroom. you both compliment each other’s looks before grabbing your purses and walking out of your dorm and towards jasmine’s car. you both get in and jasmine puts the car into drive, making her way towards the frat house.
once you both get to the party and you can hear the music thumping from outside the house. you can feel your palms begin to become sweaty and your heartbeat quicken. “jas i don’t know about this. what if something bad happens?” you ask nervously. “everything’s gonna be fine. i promise i’ll stick with you as long as you want me to, okay?” she reassures you. you slowly nod you head. you both then get out of the car and walk into the frat house. the moment you walk in, you can smell the strong scent of weed, alcohol, and sweat.
you look around and notice some people you know from your classes, all of them stoned, drunk, or both. your eyes continue to wander until you lock eyes with him. chris sturniolo. he’s easily the biggest asshole you’ve ever met. he was in your english lit class last semester and the only thing he did was show up late and extremely hungover. you can see his eyes trail down to your body and back up to your face. you roll your eyes and turn to jasmine. “we should get drinks.” you yell over the music. she nods and you both walk into the kitchen, where a vast array of drinks sit on the counter. you grab a beer out of the ice filled bucket where they sit, twist the cap off and take a drink. you look to your left and see jasmine flirting with some guy you’ve never seen before. after a few seconds, she turns to you and asks: “do you think it would be okay if i went with him? it’s totally okay if you’re not comfortable being by yourself. i’ll let him down and stay with you if you want.” you can’t help but smile at her. “it’s okay jas, i’ll be fine. i think i saw some guys playing poker and you know how much i love texas hold ‘em.” she grins and turns back to the guy and he leads her away.
you walk out of the kitchen and walk over to the table where a bunch of guys are sitting, dealing out cards. “y’all got room for one more?” you ask them. “you play?” one of the guys retorts. you nod. “yep. been playing since middle school.” “i guess we could deal you in.” he motions to one of the empty chairs. you sit as the dealer hand you the cards. you take a peek at the cards and see pocket aces. your face remains stoic as you look around at all the guys, trying to read their faces. everyone around the table checks, and so do you. the dealer puts down one card. about half of the guys fold, and a few of them raise, and of course, you match their bets. once again, everyone checks, and the dealer puts down the rest of the cards. you all then turn over all your cards, with you obviously winning. you smirk and gather all the chips to your side of the table.
before you can start the next round, chris walks over to the table. he claps one of the guys on the shoulders before his eyes find yours. he then walks up to you and you once again roll your eyes at him. “hey, what’s your name?” you ignore him and deal out the cards since it’s your turn. “c’mon don’t be like that.” he presses as he sits down next to you. you sigh and turn to him. “if i were you, i wouldn’t even bother learning my name, especially if you didn’t care to learn it last semester.” chris looks confused. “do i know you from somewhere?” you shrug. “wait,” he begins. “you’re that girl from english. the one that always asked a bunch of questions.” “guess so. do you mind? i’m in the middle of something.” you flip over the cards in front of you. “damn okay i see how it is. i’ll catch you later though.” he stands up out of the seat and you flash him a fake smile. “i hope not.” you mutter before he walks away.
you continue to play for a little while longer, surprisingly having fun. you had to admit, tonight is going a lot better than you thought it would. after winning most of the hands, you decide it’s time to head out, so you get up and say bye to the guys you were playing with. you wander through the crowd, trying to find jasmine, but she’s nowhere to be found. she must have gone home with the guy she left with earlier, so you pull out your phone and order an uber. your feet begin to ache and you spot an empty seat on a sofa, so you take a seat. you scroll on your phone for a bit before feeling the couch dip next to you. you look up and see chris sitting directly to your right. you immediately look back down at your phone, desperately wanting to avoid another conversation with him.
“you know it’s dangerous for a pretty girl like yourself to be alone at a party like this. you never know what kinda creep will try and take advantage of you.” he smirks. “i think i can handle myself, thanks.” you say back, avoiding eye contact. “hey, i’m just looking out for you, ma.” you finally turn to look at him. “don’t call me that.” “well, you never gave me your name, so…” he trails off. “you don’t need to know my name.” you say coldly. “why not?” chris tilts his head. “i don’t know what you think you’re doing, but i’m not gonna sleep with you so find another girl to bother.” you snap. before he can respond, your phone goes off, signaling that your uber arrived at the house. without a word, you stand up from the couch and walk towards the front door, leaving behind a very shocked chris.
once you got back to your dorm, you took off your makeup and changed into comfy clothes. the moment you lied down, you fell asleep, but couldn’t help but think about the brunette boy that managed to get under your skin so much.
a week later, you’re at the campus coffee shop, where you work. today isn’t a very busy day, just a few tired college kids in desperate need of coffee. you’re cleaning the tables near the back when you hear the bell ring, signifying that someone had walked into the shop. “welcome in.” you say out of habit. when you look up, your eyes meet chris’ blue ones. you walk behind the counter and plaster on the fakest smile you could muster. “what can i get you?” you ask, trying to get him out as fast as possible. “hey it’s you.” he smirks. “yes it’s me.” you roll your eyes. “what do you want?” “well, y/n,” he reads your name tag, “i would like a cappuccino and your number.” you scoff at his request. “absolutely not. i made it very clear at the party that i’m not interested in being one of your casual hookups.” “i promise i’d make it worth your while.” chris leans in closer to you. “okay buddy.” you say, unconvinced. “come on, y/n-” “not interested chris, either pay for your coffee or get out.” you tell him sternly. now, he rolls his eyes at you. “fine how much?” he pulls out his wallet. “$4.25.” he hands you a $5 and says: “keep the change.” you nod and begin making his drink.
once you finish making the cappuccino, you put the lid on it and hand it to him. “i’ll pull you one day, you know.” he smirks as he takes his drink. “in your dreams.” you retort. “i’ll see you around, ma.” chris yells as he walks out of the coffee shop. you continue the rest of your shift, still not being able to believe the audacity that boy has.
over the next few weeks, chris has been coming to your work, trying to get you to give him your number, and you shut him down every time. “come on, ma, i’m begging you, just one chance, please.” he all but begs you. “no chris, now go away i have customers to deal with.” you walk toward the register, taking a customer’s order. “what do you have to lose?” he questions. “my sanity.” you say putting in the person’s order. “what time do you get off?” “5:30. why?” you raise an eyebrow at his question. “i’ll pick you up and take you to dinner.” you laugh a little, “sure you will.” chris doesn’t say anything and walks out of the store.
sure enough, 5:30 rolls around and as you’re packing up your things in the back, you hear the bell ring. you walk out to the front and see chris at the door. you freeze. you really didn’t think chris would actually show up. “what the hell are you doing here?” you ask. “well, you get off at 5:30 right? i told you i’d pick you up.” he smiles, but it’s not a cocky smile or smirk, it’s a genuine smile. you let out a breath, knowing you can’t get out of it now. “one date. that’s it. you fuck up, you don’t get another chance.” you tell him sternly. he raises his hands in surrender. “i can be nice when i want, you know.” “uh huh, i’m sure. where are we going?” you both begin to walk out the door and chris holds it open, you mutter a small “thank you.” “where do you wanna go?” “ummm” you think, “how about mcdonald’s or something lowkey?” you suggest. “sounds perfect.” he replies, leading you to his car and opening the passenger door for you.
the car ride is relatively quiet, a few comments being made here and there, but it was mostly silent. however, it wasn’t an awkward silence, it was actually quite comfortable. you both get to the nearest mcdonald’s and order your food. it comes time to pay and you begin to pull out your card. “don’t you even dare, y/n.” chris says before you can even get your wallet out of your bag. “chris it’s really not that big of a deal.” you try to reason with him. “no y/n. i’m paying. a gentleman doesn’t make the girl pay, especially not on the first date.” he explains. “okay fine.” you relent.
the rest of the night went much smoother than you thought it would have. chris was a total gentleman and you genuinely had fun with him. at the end of the night, he drove you back to your dorm, but before you left, he asked you out on another date and you immediately said yes.
of course, you still have your reserves because of chris’ reputation around campus, but you wanted to give him a chance. you walk into your room, and see jasmine sitting on her bed. “and where have you been?” she asks. “i was out… on a date.” you say sheepishly. “a date?! with who?!” she becomes interested. “ummm i was with chris actually.” you look down at your shoes. “chris sturniolo? don’t you hate him?” she tilts her head in a confused manner. “i did, but he surprisingly isn’t that bad.” i smile at her slightly. “okay girl just be careful with him. make sure his intentions with you are good before you get too attached.” jasmine warns and you nod at her words. “of course, jas.” you walk over to your bathroom to take off your makeup and get ready for bed.
over the next couple of weeks, you and chris have been hanging out constantly. you actually enjoy his company, and he enjoys yours. you’ve managed to learn more and more about each other. you now know that chris loves hockey, he’s a triplet with his two brothers matt and nick, and he has a dog back home named trevor. all of this new information made him seem like more of an actual person to you and not some asshole you shared one class with for a single semester.
you’re currently getting ready for a party that chris had invited you to. this was the first time you would show up to a gathering like this as a ‘couple’, and you’re a little nervous. you don’t know how people would react because you being with chris is probably the most unexpected thing to happen on campus.
just as you’re putting on your shoes, chris texts you that he’s outside. you say goodbye to jas, and as you’re walking out the door you hear her yell: “be safe! text me if you need me!” you walk over to chris’ car and see him in the driver’s seat. once you open the door, he looks over at you and his jaw drops a little. “whoa. you look amazing, y/n.” you blush a little. “thanks chris.” he smiles at you and begins to drive towards the party.
you get there and can already see drunk students stumbling out the front door, something leaning over to throw up in the bushes. chris puts the car in park and unbuckles his seatbelt. he then gets out and walks over to your side of the car, opening the door for you. he holds his hand out, and you take it. you stand up and before chris releases your hand, he leans down presses a light kiss to your knuckles. you giggle and begin to walk inside the party.
chris puts his hand on your waist and leads you over to the couch in the middle of the room. “i’m gonna grab us some drinks?” he yells over the music. “okay! i’ll be here!” you yell back, hoping he hears you. chris nods and turns to walk towards where you assume is the kitchen.
you wait for a few minutes, think it just takes a while to actually get to the drinks because of the large crowd of people in the house. you wait a little longer before deciding to go and find chris. you walk through the house and you can hear a group of male voices.
you turn the corner and see chris talking with his frat brothers, and you can’t help but listen in. “so how’s it going with that one girl you’re seeing, the smart one?” one of them asks. “her? there’s nothing going on with her. she’s just a hookup, nothing more. she means nothing to me.” he and his friends all laugh. you immediately lose your breath. you were so stupid to believe you actually meant something to chris. you should have listened to your gut, he’s just like all the rest.
you turn on your heels and walk out of the house, needing fresh air. the moment you walk outside, you break down, tears rolling down your cheeks one after another. you pull out your phone and call jasmine, knowing she’d come pick you up. the phone rings a few times before she answers, “hello?” “jas.” you say through your tears. “y/n? what’s wrong? what happened?” she immediately becomes worried. “can you come get me? i’ll explain everything to you later i just can’t be here any longer.” “of course. stay where you are, i’ll be there in a few.” you hang up the phone and look into the distance.
you then hear your name being called. you turn your head and see chris walking towards you. you look away, knowing that if you looked at him, you’d absolutely lose it. “y/n? are you okay? why’d you come out here?” he asks, completely unaware that you overheard his cruel words. “how could you chris?” he becomes confused now. “how could i what?” “do i really mean nothing to you? is getting into my pants the only thing you want from me?” you’re fighting the urge to sob. “of course not baby. who’s telling you that?” he steps closer to you and you step back, finally meeting his eyes. “you did! i heard you talking to your friends! about how i’m nothing but a hookup!” chris’ face drops. “baby no you got it all wrong. i didn’t mean any of those things i said.” “then why would you say it?! i can’t believe i trusted you! i really thought you were different, but you’re not! you’re just like all the other douchebags on this fucking campus!” you yell in his face. “y/n please i-” “save it.” you cut him off. you see jasmine’s car pull in out of the corner of your eye. “i never wanna see you again.” you tell him before walking to jasmine’s car and getting into the passenger’s seat. she swiftly pulls out and heads towards your dorm.
“what happened y/n? what’d he do to you?” she asks, worriedly. “i overheard him talking shit about me to his friends, about how i mean nothing to him.” you sniffle. “oh babe i’m so sorry. he’s such an asshole.” she reaches her right hand over to rub your back. “i should have known. i’m so fucking stupid.” you lean forwards and put your head in your hands. “no he’s stupid for not realizing what he had.” she reassures you. “i just wanna go home and go to bed.” you say. “of course, we’re almost there.” jasmine says as she continues driving.
once you get back home, you flop onto your bed, not bothering to take your makeup or clothes off. you just lie there and stare at the ceiling, thinking about chris. you thought about how sweet he could be, but it was all just a lie to get you into his bed. it’s bittersweet. you felt so humiliated, but you were glad you found out his true intentions before it was too late. you turn over and look at your phone. there are ten missed calls and about fifty text messages from chris. you shut your phone off, not wanting to deal with him right now.
the next few days, the world seems grey. you have almost no motivation to get out of bed. after a day or so, chris stopped texting you and calling you. you assumed he had given up, until he walked into your work holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a small teddy bear. you looked at him with sadness in your eyes, while chris’ eyes are filled with guilt and regret. “y/n,” he begins. “i’m so sorry for what i said. it was wrong and i promise i didn’t mean it. i just didn’t want them to shit on you for dating me. it’s okay if you don’t forgive me, but i just want you to know that i truly am sorry.” he hands you the flowers and bear. you take them hesitantly and say nothing. you nod and walk away, leaving chris behind looking broken.
chris fell in love with you the moment he laid eyes on you. not at the party, but the first day he walked into his english lit class. he quickly thought you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. he wanted to go up to you so bad, but based on the dirty glares you would shoot his way every time he walked into class late, he thought you wouldn’t be interested. when he saw you at the party, however, he couldn’t resist, he had to talk to you. he definitely expected you to turn him down, but he vowed that he wouldn’t give up until you agreed to go on at least one date with him. when you finally did, chris knew he was a goner. you were pretty, smart, and funny. you were perfect. the feelings that chris had for you scared him because he had never felt this way before. he didn’t know what to do. when his friends asked how you two were doing, he panicked. he knew you would get shit for dating him because you two are so different, so he told them you meant nothing, which was the furthest thing from the truth. however, he didn’t consider how those harsh words would affect you. the moment he walked outside and saw you crying, his heart broke. chris fucked up. badly. and he won’t stop until you know that he truly is sorry.
after your shift you go back to your dorm and set the teddy bear on your bed and put the flowers in a vase with water. suddenly, your phone dings, and it’s a text from chris: please let me explain what happened. i promise i’ll tell you everything. you stood there and thought about it before replying: meet me in front of the coffee shop in an hour. you shut your phone off and sit on your bed. you hold your head in your hands before you stand up to change into one of chris’ hoodies that you took and some sweats.
about 45 minutes go by before you’re grabbing your phone and keys and walking out of your dorm and towards the coffee shop. once you get there, you see chris standing outside. once he hears your footsteps, chris turns his head and watches you walk up to him. he smiles a bit seeing you in his hoodie, and his hopes raise just a little.
“y/n. hi.” he says nervously. you just nod at him, not knowing what to say. “look y/n, i know i fucked up. what i said was horrible and i can’t excuse that i just… you scare me.” your eyebrow raises “i scare you? why?” you question him, confused. “because you’re so perfect. you have your life together, you know what you want, and i’m just me.” he says desperately.” you’re still confused. “but that doesn’t make any sense.” chris sighs. “fuck it. y/n i’ve been in love with you for a long time, and i know i’ve never said that and maybe now isn’t the best time to tell you that, but it’s how i feel. i swear if you give me one more chance, i’ll do better. i’ll be better. just please let me prove it to you.” chris begs. you stand there, shifting your feet. you bite the inside of your cheek as you process what he just told you. “you love me? you aren’t just saying that?” you ask. chris steps towards you and cups your cheeks with his hands. “i love you, y/n. i love you so much it’s honestly terrifying, but all i want is to be with you.” he looks into your eyes and you know he’s being honest. “chris.” you begin. “yes?” he asks, hopefully. “kiss me.” chris grins and leans down to capture your lips with his, smiling into the kiss. you break away after a few seconds. “but if you ever pull some shit like this again, i’ll cut your dick off christopher.” he laughs out loud. “i wouldn’t expect anything less, ma.” he says before he leans down to kiss you once again.
#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo imagine#christopher sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo angst#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo fluff#christopher sturniolo angst#christopher sturniolo fluff#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo
620 notes
·
View notes
Text
Children of the dragon
Warnings: Incest, sexual content, swearing, mentions of violence & SA, murder
Pairing: Aegon ii Targaryen × Reader, Minor Aemond Targaryen × Reader
1.05
Your damp hair is sticking against your forehead as you moan against Aegon’s hand as he attempts to keep you quiet. You ignore the pain building in your lower back as you ride him; the pleasure always outweighs the pain. You bring your hand to your crotch, adding to the euphoria building inside you by rubbing circles onto your bundle of nerves.
“Aegon!” You moan, “Fuck, I’m going to—”
Frowning, he grabs you by the jaw, slipping two fingers into your mouth for you to suck on, saying, “I’ve already told you to be quiet. Don't make me say it again or else.”
His threat pushes you over the edge. Feeling you clench around him as you reach your high, Aegon thrusts up into you, spilling inside you.
While you catch your breath, Aegon rests his hands on his stomach, his eyes flickering between your eyes and your growing bump. “I love it when you're all swollen.”
You tuck his greasy hair behind his ears, and you lean forward, kissing him. When Aegon found out you were pregnant again with a child that wasn’t his, you thought he’d run from you and push you away, but instead it had brought you closer. He swore to love the new baby as if it were his own, which you believed.
Aemond took great delight in announcing you were pregnant again to the rest of your family and anyone who would listen, despite the fact that you hadn't really spoken to him in weeks. Aemond had stayed true to his word and was around a lot more, but he never really interacted with you or the children. I just observed from a distance.
While the rest of your family seems delighted, Aegon looks ahead uninterested. Of course, this wasn’t news to him, but by now he knew to play along and say nothing. Your mother frowns at him; she leans in and says something you can’t hear, no doubt scolding him.
Aegon clears his throat, then raises his cup before saying, “Congratulations.”
Aemond didn't waste a second in relishing in his older brother's obvious indifference to the situation while reveling in it. “Don’t fret, dear brother,” Aemond pats Aegon's shoulder several times. “Should the time come, I’m sure you’ll get the chance to help keep our Valyrian blood pure.”
Aegon’s face drew a grim line, “It will be daylight soon.”
You kiss the tips of his fingers. It had become harder for you to spend time with Aegon; you lay awake most nights missing his voice, his smell, his touch... and you needed to return to your bedchamber soon before anyone found it empty.
“I love you.”
“I know,” he smiles sadly up at you. “I love you too.”
—
Hearing hushed voices, your heavy eyes flutter open, and the first thing you see is your mother and husband sitting by the table on the opposite side of your bedroom. Your mother looked visibly upset as her hands shook as she poured two cups of tea.
“Mother,” you sit up, pulling your covers up to conceal your bare arms. “Did we arrange to have breakfast here?”
She gives you a sympathetic look and says, “We did not, my darling.”
As your mother walks towards you, her hand twirling her faith in the seven necklace, you catch a glimpse of Aemond, who is still sitting, and notice the worried expression on his face. “What’s going on?” You ask alarmed, “Where are my children?”
“The children are fine,” he says. “Aeron is in the nursery with his sisters. They are safe.”
“But someone isn’t?” You pull back the covers and swing your legs out of the bed, ready to go find them, not caring that nothing but a sheer nightgown covered all you were wearing. You weren’t sure what was going on, but you needed to be with them and see for yourself that they were okay.
“Theodora,” your mother stops you, placing a genital hand on your shoulder. “This is about your handmaiden.”
“Tracy? What about her?”
She crouches down so she is at eye level with you, tucking her hair behind your ear and saying, “The body of a young woman was found on the streets of Silk in the early hours of this morning. It was your handmaiden; I’m sorry, darling; I know you were fond of her.”
“Cole identified the body,” Aemond adds. “She was attacked by two men who beat her and stole her maiden hood. They have been arrested and await trial.”
“I want to see her.”
Aemond cleared his throat. “I don’t know if that’s—”
“I want to see her.”
Your mother squeezes your hands. “In your condition, I’m not sure if that’s wise.”
You pull your hands back, ignoring your mother's tear-filled eyes, and you stand with your hand cradling your growing bump, feeling the air being knocked out of you. “I am going to see the woman who has stayed loyal by my side throughout the years and stayed with me through childbirth. Now, either one of you can help me get dressed or leave.”
Your mother excused herself, leaving you and Aemond alone. You reach for a crimson gown; its texture is thick and dragon like, and in the sunlight it looks like scales. Once you removed your nightgown, your husband helped you put it on quietly.
He watches as you place the dragon necklace Aegon gave you as a gift years ago around your neck as a single tear runs down your cheek. “Tell the guards to bring those beasts to the bay; I'm going to the dragon pit.”
“To get Dallax?”
“Daor, vala eater.”
—
You stand with a blank expression on your face, watching as guards force two men down onto their knees. Dallax sniffs the air beside you, smelling the blood of your handmaid that is still on their clothes. You share a look with Dallax, telepathically communicating what is about to happen.
You look down at the men from the edge of the rock you stood on as they beg for mercy. Your blood boils with rage as you think about how bruised and swollen Tracy’s face was, leaving her almost unrecognizable. Dallax roars causing the men to shake and cry.
Behind you, Aegon, Aemond, and Ser Criston await your next move. None of them protested against your known intentions.
You watch as the guards step aside and stand beside your brothers. One of the prisoners looking up at you sobs, “Princess plea-”
“Dracarys.”
Dallax bathed the men in a blast of flames, roasting them before his jaws closed around them, tearing them limb from limb.
You inhale, and your nose fills with the smell of burning flesh, causing your stomach to churn. Turning your back, you begin to walk back to the Red Keep.
You feel the presence of another catching up to you, slowing down your pace as you look at the king's guard standing by your side. “You don’t approve of my methods of justice?”
“On the contrary, princess, I think justice was served,” Ser Criston says, surprising you.
Hands clasped behind your back, you brush aside the gazes burning into you from your beloved and husband. Tears burn in your eyes because you’re so overwhelmed.
Overwhelmed with grief and the realization that one of the only people you could truly trust was gone.
—
“I believe I have misjudged you,” your husband says in a matter-of-fact tone. “What you did today took strength, strength I didn’t know you possessed.”
“And why is that?” Your father asks, “The blood of the dragon runs thick through her veins.”
Standing by the doorway of the nursery, Aemond wouldn’t have been able to see your mother holding Alyssa in front of your father, who was too weak to hold her himself, or Helaena cradling Alina while she slept. His sight had been fixed on Aegon, who was standing beside you, trying to calm your eldest down.
It was the first time your father, the king, had ventured outside his bedchamber in weeks, but the news of what you did was cause enough. It was the first time in a long time your family was in one room.
Aemond quickly changed the subject.
You kept your attention unfocused on them as you continued to fuss over your son, who screamed in your arms. You placed your hand on his forehead, you had never seen Aeron’s face so flustered before. “I think he’s burning up.”
You hear Aegon order someone to fetch the maester immediately. You stare out of the window and into the night sky, watching a dragon's fire appear in the darkness above.
Daor, vala eater - No, man eater
#house of the dragon#house of the dragon fanfiction#aegon ii targaryen x reader#aegon ii fanfic#Aegon ii Targaryen#Aegon ii Targaryen x you#Aegon ii Targaryen smut#children of the dragon#hotd fanfic#house of the dragon fanfic#house of the dragon fandom#Aegon ii Targaryen/you#Aegon ii Targaryen/reader#Aegon ii Targaryen fanfiction#house of the dragon x reader#house of the dragon smut#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x you#Aemond Targaryen x reader
322 notes
·
View notes
Text
The woods @huxloween
It has been long time since Hux was planetside. He actually could remember only one time when he was in any woods. And sleeping under the sky? Well never. Not like that. On the ground. Close to fire. With his coat as a cover. His people took the watch and the rest of them was sleeping already, a few meters further to give their commanding officer deserved space.
But Hux couldn't sleep. Every sound made him shiver. His paranoia was awake and ready to take everything around as a possible threat. Darkness was not helpful. He sighed rubbing his face and almost jumped at his feet when Ren stood next to him.
"Kriffing hell. What do you think you are doing." He hissed with knife in his hand.
"Easy." Kylo sat down slowly. "You are projecting, general. Tomorrow we will have tiring day. You should rest."
"I was resting until… "
"No you weren't. You were panicking."
"I was not."
"I can help. It's fine. I felt like that when i was first time on a Star Destroyer. Everything was… Well it was hard. I suppose this can be overwhelming for someone raised on star ships."
"I…" Hux was speechless" don't need your pity." Kylo roller his eyes.
"Just… Let me help."
"No. No force tricks near my head Ren."
"As you wish. But i can help in different way. I don't really need so much sleep i will meditate here."
"You… You want to watch me sleeping?" Kylo nodded.
"If this will help you calm down. Would you want me to? Stay here?"
Hux looked around and into the darkness of the woods and nodded slowly.
"It is… Overwhelming" he said quietly closing his eyes.
"You are safe, General. No need to be scared." Hux glanced at him furiously. "You are projecting, Hux. It's keeping me up. And it's disturbing. Sleep."
Hux tried. He actually fell asleep but after few minutes woke up looking for his knife. He glanced at Ren. Knight was sitting facing away from him. Hux rolled over and pressed his forehead to his back. Kylo sighed.
"Hux…"
"Lay down next to me" he said. Ren looked at him in surprise but obeyed. He laid down and touched Hux's back when general rolled over again.
"C'mon… Come here Hux. You are projecting."
"Kriff off." Kylo smiled petting his back and feeling like Hux is slowly breaking. After few minutes he was laying snuggled up to Kylo nuzzling his neck. "You insolent child."
Kylo laughed.
"Really. I don't know why Supreme Leader sent you here with us. I could… "
"You don't? "Hux snorted "isn't it obvious.? " he sighed looking at confusion in Kylo's eyes "it's a punishment"
"For what?"
"For fucking you apparently."
"Oh." He cleared his throat"well it's not very wise then to send us both in the same place isn't it?"
"Use your brain just for few seconds please Ren"
"Its a test."
"It is. And i am not loosing my live or even worse my rank because you couldn't restrain yourself."
"You are the one clinging to me, Hux."
"Shut up." He sighed and closed his eyes.
"I won't let him kill you Hux."
"You won't let him" he mocked" you don't have any chance against him"
"You underestimate me."
"You didn't give me any prove that you are capable of defeating him Ren. I only saw how he tossed you from wall to wall."
"He is my Master, I obey."
"You obey because he has power. It's not a matter of respect. Obedience is an effect of fear."
"It's not" Hux snorted at that and Kylo fell silent and soon he was laying awake and listening to Hux's steady breath. He swore that night to himself that he will kill Snoke and place his head before Hux. And he did. A year later he was kneeling before Hux with Sonke's head next to him.
"Your orders, General?" He asked softly. Because obedience is a choice. And he chose to obey.
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
Reflected Memories
Hey, did you ask for an angsty Trans Copia fic? No? Too bad. Here’s one.
1,544k words. AO3 Link
tw: just lots of angst and body dysmorphia
For as long as he can remember he’s hated the reflection that stares back at him from the mirror. It makes him feel nauseous. The person that stares back at him has never felt like it matches the person that’s inside him. He can remember standing in-front of a mirror when he was a child, no more than ten, and just staring. Yet no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t twist that reflection to actually reflect him.
There was a brief while where he considered this a normal occurrence. That it was something that everyone had to deal with. Either that or he was being punished for some unknown reason (which seeing as how his life has played out so far, that really wouldn’t surprise him too much).
He remembers how for the longest time he was addressed as such a “fine young sister.” It leaves an acidic taste in his mouth and Copia finds himself, not for the first time that morning, thinking he’s going to lose what little breakfast he’s consumed.
As he got older things only seemed to get progressively worse. The long hair wasn’t too much of an issue. For a while he had just tucked it into the tightest bun possible, until finally he had asked Primo to help him cut it. His eldest brother was more than happy to oblige.
“You’re sure?” Primo had bent to look him in the eyes. It was almost comical. His nearly six foot figure nearly bent in half to acknowledge his younger sibling.
Copia noded.
“Very well.” And there had been no argument. No trying to talk him out of it. It was arguably the most freeing moment of his short life.
Copia finds himself grimacing as he recalls how Sister Imperator had responded. She hadn’t been angry per-say, but he had received a stern talking to.
“Honestly, I don’t understand why you didn’t bring it to my attention. I would have ensured it was done properly. That someone who knew what they were doing was the one slicing off your hair.”
Someone who did know what they were doing had done just that, Copia had wanted to argue, but like every other time in his life when confronted with issues he had remained silent.
“It doesn’t matter.” Sister waved a hand through the air. “Just make sure that next time you come to me when you want this done. Do I make myself clear, Copola?”
He freezes like he’s just been struck. That name hasn’t entered his mind in decades and the thought of it suddenly makes him feel like the room is spinning. He rubs at his eyes, smearing the black makeup that circles them. He needs to do something, anything to get his mind off of this.
Copia turns on his heel and practically runs from his room, only stopping once he’s in his office where he can lock himself away and focus on mind numbing paperwork. It works – for the most part. But several hours in he finds his body aching from the cramped position and needing a stretch. The growling of his stomach reminds him that he should probably get something to eat as well. He’s still undecided on that one yet.
It’s only once he’s made his way around the ministry gardens a solid three times, does he wind back up in his own room. Some rest. That will help.
Copia wastes no time in stripping himself of his black cassock and exchanging it for a comfortable pair of sweatpants. Carefully he lays the cassock over the back of one of his few chairs. He doesn’t want it to get wrinkled. He makes his way to his closet to find a more comfortable shirt, only he stops dead in his tracks.
He swallows thickly as his reflection once more stares back at him. Stupid. Idiot. Fucking idiot. In his haste earlier Copia forgot to replace the sheet back over the glass. Only this time it’s worse. Last time it was just his lanky form in his cassock. Now it’s him with only his sweats and a bare chest.
Copia isn’t ashamed of the scars that adorn his chest, quite the opposite actually. He’s glad to have them. It shows what he’s been through and how he’s fought tooth and nail to get to where he is today. To be who he is today. It’s just — his body over all. He’s never liked it. Even now, it just doesn’t appeal to him. There’s little to no definition in his arms and there’s the slight pudge to his gut. For more than once in his life he finds himself wishing he looked more like his brothers. Although he knows they’d tell him he’s perfectly fine the way he is, Copia can’t help but feel like they’re taking pity on him.
“Ah, there you are.” Secondo’s deep voice echoed in his ears. “We were beginning to think you’d never leave that room of your’s.” He laughed at his own joke as he straightened his paperwork on his desk. He’d recently been appointed to Cardinal, working directly under Primo. “I know you’d rather spend your time cramped up in there, but honestly —” Whatever he had intended to say had died on his tongue as a gut wrenching sob cut through the air.
Copia sat on the other side of his brother’s desk, head in his hands as he practically curled in on himself. He had wanted to say something sarcastic, play into the typical banter they shared but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it. His mouth had opened and a wail had taken the place of words.
Secondo sat rooted to the spot. His brows furrowed and eyes wide as he took in the scene before him. “Sorella.” It’d been said softly but instead of comfort it had only brought more heartache as the man before him tried to curl in on himself even more. He stood, hurrying over to kneel beside him. “I did not intend to upset you. I was only joking.” He placed a comforting hand on Copia’s shoulder.
The younger man had jerked away, his sobbing only growing. For a long moment they both stayed that way until finally Copia had managed to pull himself together just enough to speak. He wiped at his nose, not even bothering to wipe at his eyes. The black makeup there was already tear stained and ruined.
“What is it? You can tell your fratello.”
He had hiccuped so hard that his body jerked. “I can’t do this anymore.” His voice was hardly above a whisper and Secondo had to strain to hear it.
“Do what?”
Copia knew it was meant as enduring. His brother only wanted to help. That didn’t alleviate his mind in the least. His bottom lip trembled. “Do you ever feel like ���” a violent hiccup shook his body. “Like something’s wrong.” He looked down at his hands. “Like you don’t fit.”
His brother’s eyes had softened as did his voice. “I can’t say that I personally have ever felt that way, but I think I know what you’re speaking of.”
And that had been the end of it. Secondo, along with his other two brothers, even his mother, had settled into the change far easier than he had ever imagined they would. Almost immediately he had changed out his wardrobe for far more fitting clothes and changed his name.
“Copia? But that means –”
He interrupted Terzo. “Copy. Si.”
Terzo had scrunched his nose up. “But why that?”
Copia shrugged. “It is not so different sounding from –” he stumbled over his words and swallowed thickly. “From the other name and because I would like to learn to be more like the three of you.” It seemed like the most obvious answer. However his brother’s expression began to slowly make him worried.
“You shouldn’t feel like you have to model yourself after us. You’re your own person.”
“Si. If I don’t like it, I will change it again, no?” He shrugged.
Defeatedly Terzo had sighed. “Si.”
Instinctively Copia snatches his cassock from the chair and flings it over the mirror. He settles for just yanking one of his old shirts from a drawer in his dresser and flinging it over himself. From there he shuts off the lights and buries himself in his bed under the heavy quilts. He isn’t tired and more than likely won’t be sleeping tonight. But he feels overwhelmed. Not just by his memories but also from the fact that he can’t even speak about his issues to his brothers anymore. Because they’re gone. Dead. Because of him. If he had just kept his mouth shut and continued living the hell he was in, would they still be here? No, more than likely not. Sister would have simply found another gullible idiot to take his place and they would still be cold in glass coffins. It’s funny really, to think that there’s someone more gullible than him out there.
Copia chokes on a sob as he covers his head with the blankets. He’s not tired but that doesn’t mean he can’t dream of a better time. One where he was who he is today and his brothers still breathed.
#hello i have come to deliver daily angst#the band ghost#okay to reblog i guess#skywarpie writes#ghost band#ghost bc#cardinal copia#papa emeritus iv
60 notes
·
View notes
Note
there’s twitter discourse rn about who Aegon the conqueror would support rhaenyra vs aegon. what do u think?
my stance on this is: aegon would have thought viserys was an idiot for not just marrying rhaenyra and aegon to each other.
bc……on the one hand it’s not like he makes rhaena aenys’ heir, does he? and while visenya is older, it’s aegon that rules their house. it’s not out of the realm of possibility that aegon would agree with jaehaerys that only male line men should be allowed on the iron throne, but even if he doesn’t feel that way, aegon being king rests on male preference primogeniture, and aegon isn’t a cousin, aegon is just second born (like the conqueror is).
on the other hand, aegon gives his wives ruling power - even visenya, tho they are not fond of each other, makes her own laws, and he doesn’t seem to force her to his bed, or even force her to spend time with him at all. and he like, actively hates maegor lmao so far be it for aegon to judge someone for going with their favorite child as their heir when that’s literally what he does with aenys & rhaenys’ line.
he, like viserys, makes it real clear who his favored heir is, and refuses to change his mind no matter what anyone says. i think he would respect viserys choosing his heir and digging his heels in about it, but in the end i think he would have felt like “well first born boy is king but he marries first born girl and she’s a ruling queen so what’s the problem” and would have wanted the two competing lines to marry. because for aegon’s part - rather than disrespect his older sister by marrying his younger, he just married them both. part of his annoyance at maegor wanting to marry rhaena may very well have been that he hoped rhaena would marry a younger brother, and be queen that way like visenya was, vs with maegor, it’s less likely she’s queen (bc he has no intention of making maegor king ever). so like, in the end, i think aegon is (rightly) laying blame at viserys’ feet more than he’s choosing a side. like, aegon certainly has his own problems but line of successions is not one of them lmao, he makes what he wants real clear when it comes to the aenys—> aegon the uncrowned/rhaena [maegor do Not interact] whole thing, and this problem is just not one he would find himself in. he would have other, equally annoying problems! but not this one.
anyway, like probably technically he supports aegon ii?? but again, what aegon the conqueror is probably thinking while watching all of this is “why the fuck didn’t rhaenyra and aegon just marry.” hell he’s probably thinking “why the fuck didn’t rhaenys and viserys marry, aemon was alive for years and only had the one daughter, why would you not marry her to the next male relative in that case” so!
#mind you i’m phrasing this the way i think he would see it.#valyrianscrolls#aegon the conqueror#the dance of the dragons#heiresses and ruling ladies in asoiaf#eldest sisters
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Comparing Dabi V. Touya
I DO think Dabi purposely compartmentalizes the part of him that is “still Touya” not just for self preservation but as a way to cope. Look first off, I don’t buy into the whole idea that you can leave your past self behind and neither does Dabi, in cannon, his whole schtick is literally “the past never dies” but he certainly makes an effort to try to bury the person he used to be.
I should say that there are certainly hints of Dabi in Touya even before Sekoto Peak. He gets angry, he lashes out, he does see himself as living in a different world than his peers. Dabi makes a concerted effort to be very stoic and sort of apathetic but there are plenty of instances where can see that in reality that is not the case. He has plenty of emotional reactions, most of which he tamps down unless he’s literally alone, though of course when faced with his father they come out anyway. He self isolates and as has been pointed out in much better analyses than this one, he still holds a lot of judgment toward those who lack ambition, those without a clear goal. Of course he has a lot of gripes with hero society but he doesn’t have a ton of affection for villains either. He makes a connection with Toga later in the manga and i do think he mourns twice but he never really includes himself in the found family dynamic that they build between them. His father’s beliefs about him living in a different world because of his power still hold a lot of weight with him.
I tend to believe that Dabi really thinks of himself as sort of the guardian of the memory of that kid who loved his father and wanted so desperately to be a hero that he literally destroyed himself over it. We all have a protector personality in us that is sort of the tough version of ourselves that keeps us from constantly getting triggered or anxious about certain things in life. I think Dabi is probably that for Touya, not like a whole separate person, just a stronger version of himself. And I mean a very common reaction for any abuse victim IS to sort of victim blame themselves a little, I am sure Dabi internalized some of the things that his father told him. If what he has created for himself is his own power fantasy, someone strong enough to stand against HIS villain (IE his fucking dad) then of course it would make sense to take some of those traits from his father and create a persona based around them. Where Touya the child wanted to be a hero like his dad, Dabi has made himself a villain. Where Touya loved his father and his family more than anything, Dabi wants his father dead and suffering and is willing to harm his family if thats what it takes. Where Touya was an emotional child, Dabi is monotone except for some very telling instances.
He cries thinking of Snatch’s question about families, he has violent manic episodes WHENEVER he sees his dad, he has a full on freakout after Twice’s death. He can dye his white hair black all he wants but he can’t erase Touya completely, the past never dies y’all.
I think the most obvious example of this dichotomy is in the reveal chapter. Which makes a lot of sense because this is the chapter where he lays it all out on the table. Where he talks clearly about being an abuse victim while also displaying all that power he spent so long working towards.
So I really think that in that video, that was Touya speaking from beyond the grave for the first time since he was a kid. He was actually completely vulnerable in that video which he has not once allowed himself to be since that time he woke up from a coma.
When we first see him in the video, his body language is totally closed off, hes making himself small and his eyes are turned away from the camera, his hands are in a prayer position and he’s not wearing a shirt, showing us the extent of his scars for the first time since we have met this character. He is laying his pain out for EVERYONE to see. That is fucking so scary, just the thought makes my heart hurt for him. I read an incredible translation comparison on this website that really delved into the tone and speech patterns that he uses in the video and basically his entire use of language is totally different from how we usually read this dude. Ordinarily he does a very tough guy, street smart kind of lingo, which like, no shit, he gotta build up that villain cred. But in the video he is using a very kind of.... demure and polite speech pattern? Which again makes sense. Until his near death, he grew up in a wealthy family. I would also point out that he refers to his murders as “despicable acts”, he is laying it all out on the table, no holds barred. At several points the art it shows how desperate and frightened his eyes and body language are. It’s painful to watch.
On the other side though, we have the confrontation with his father, Dabi who is basically having a public nervous breakdown, literally burning himself alive, his jaw coming unhinged and shouting at everyone involved. I mean guys he starts dancing. He is monologuing at the top of his lungs about how much he hates his fucking father. If that’s not a panic attack, idk what is. His entire safety net is being split in half at this point. He has revealed who he really is and now his whole murder suicide plan has come to fruition. Do I think he really wants to kill Shouto and Natsuo, put his mom and sister in the positon where their own neglect and abuse are public knowledge? If he thought about it, probably not but when you are in pain and split down the middle like that, you sadly don’t have room to think about anyone else involved. Trauma can make us very selfish. And Dabi thinks of himself as someone already dead and this is really his last stand for the kid who died in that fire all those years ago. This is it, this is his raison d’être. And seeing the difference in demeanor between that video and his conforntation with Endeavor... that has to be one of the most obvious ficitonal depictions of suppression, repression, and PTSD I have ever fucking seen. Idk what the point of this was except to say that I am very impressed by this character’s entire storyline.
#dabi#touya todoroki#bnha#mha#my hero acedamia#boku no hero academia#mha meta#bnha meta#dabi meta analysis
130 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dawn
Chapter (9/10)
Miguel O'Hara x My oc (Eve)
°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .
"What the fuck happened?"
Eve got up from her bed immediately, she looked around and it wasn't her regular cell at all.
"Where am I?"
The girl tried to move her leg but she couldn't feel her leg at all.
"Walk."
Eve uses her power on her legs, telling them to move and they did. She moved towards the only door she saw, opened the door slightly and took a peak. There's no one down the hallway, but by the look of it, it looked like a hospital hallway, the white and slight blue, seats by the wall, trays with many different kinds of medicine.
Eve couldn’t tell how long she had walked down the hallway until she was finally a human being.
“Oh, you’re awake,” the man greeted, “Tony Stark, I’m pretty sure you know me already.”
“Yeah, of course, the other billionaire that lives in New York,” Eve chuckled as she rested herself at the closest seat, the numbness on her legs coming back, she hadn't rested enough yet, her power was not really ready to be used.
“Friday, go get the doctor,” Tony said to his watch and sat next to Eve.
“Aren’t you scared of me? I tried to kill your wife,” Eve brought up the incident years ago, she only started out not long enough and she needed gears so she decided to invade Tony’s lab and Pepper happened to be there.
“I’m not scared of you, I hated you because you almost killed the woman I love,” Tony exclaimed, “but, your keeper, Miguel, managed to talk me out of it, and I want to give you a second chance like how Pepper gave me countless times,” he laughed.
“Where is he right now?” Eve asked.
“Oh, he’s doing cleaning business about his company at the moment, the attack basically left many marks,” Tony scoffed, “I’m actually here with Pepper, she’s pregnant by the way, you’re the third to know because we haven’t told the world.”
“Congratulations,” Eve smiled, her mind starting to wander to what if she has a child as well, what would the child look like?
When the doctor got here, when they saw Eve sitting at the chair, they were shocked because it’s far away from her room.
“And I should go check on Pepper,” Tony got up from his seat, “I’ll tell Miguel you woken up,” then he left Eve with the doctor.
★・・・・・・★
Eve just lay on the bed for hours, after the doctor know she walk out from her room without anyone looking at her, they increased the security, at least the hallway doesn’t look empty anymore, there’s actually people standing outside her room just to make sure she doesn’t leave the room anymore unless they receive further orders.
Eve started at the ceilings, while she thought back everything she has gone through that led her to here now, laying on the bed.
Abandoned by her biological parents, got adopted, live her life with the Jayson and the others, met Chris at highschool, started her villain activities, the countless people she’ve killed,
It’s surprising that there’s still someone willing to give her a second chance.
Eve placed her hand on her shoulder, the side where Miguel bit her.
A faint knock from the door snapped Eve from her thoughts, Eve turned her sight at the door.
“I heard you woke up,” its Miguel, he finally showed up.
“Mr O’Hara,” Eve smiled, “before you say anything, I’m sorry for what happened, I can give you an explanation of why you’re here,” Eve quickly added, she just wanted to clear all the suspicions.
“It’s okay, there’s no rush on that,” Miguel handed a bouquet of baby breath, “I found them beautiful, like you.”
“Thank you,” Eve took the bouquet from Miguel.
Both of them looked at each other, no words, just looking at each other. There’s so much to talk about but they have no idea where to begin.
“Well, I should start with telling you what happened that night,” Eve started, even if Miguel is here just to visit Eve as a friend, she has to help Miguel finish his work first, “I know the cams weren't able to capture the whole incident.”
“Huh, what?” It caught Miguel off guard, because that’s exactly not what he came for, “yeah, sure,” Miguel quickly set the recorder on from his watch.
★・・・・・・★
“I am here by the order from the president,” a man in black suit stood in front of Eve, it’s her last day staying in the hospital to recover.
“Miss Eve Jayson, I’m here to inform you that you are now a normal citizen of the United State, I have strike down all of your crime record with the majority votes from the victims of your crime, I here to congratulation you and wish you the best of luck to enjoy your second chance in life,” the man read, “congratulations again Miss Eve,” the man gave Eve a faint smile and left the room.
"Thank you so much," Eve smiled and watched the man leave the room.
After that, Eve was discharged from the hospital, she's free to walk out the room now. Eve used the backdoor of the hospital because there's a ton of paparazzi at the front door.
Chris and Miguel are already waiting for Eve. The moment both of them saw Eve walking out from the hospital, Chris couldn't stay still anymore and just ran up to her and hugged her so tightly.
"Oh my god, I hate you so much," Chris muffled his voice because he couldn't help it but to start crying.
"I'm sorry that I lied to you all this time," Eve gently patted his head.
"I thought we were best friends, we don't keep secrets!" Chris continues to cry.
"Well, I don't want you to catch up with my crimes," Eve softly laughed, "I was blinded by searching for my real parents, I'm sorry."
"Please don't do stupid shit like this anymore."
"I'll try my best not to," Eve chuckled and walked up to Miguel, "Mr O'Hara, thank you for picking me up."
"Do you really like calling my last name?" Miguel asked.
"It's a respect?" Eve tilted her head, wondering where this conversation was going.
"Would you like it to be your last name as well?" Miguel leaned forward to Eve.
"What?" The girl starts to blush, her face is red like a tomato.
"Eve O'Hara," Chris whispered.
"Chris, you're not helping!" Eve blushed, "can we just go home for now? I'm hungry," Eve quickly changed the subject and got in the car.
Miguel gently chuckled and drive Eve and Chris back to Riverside.
°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .
Prev~
#miguel o'hara#spiderman#atsv#spiderman across the spiderverse#astv miguel#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel#miguel o'hara x reader#atsv miguel#miguel spiderman
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
I just need to rant, it will be unter the cut, so you can just ignore it if you don't want to read it. But also a quick thing, my next fic will be either an Xiao or Childe fic (or maybe Kaeya? Let me know which character you would prefer.) And will be a pretty self indulgant fic bc I need it. It'll be a bit angsty with some comfort, but I just need to figure out which char I want to pair up with. It will be about a reader that has difficulties sitting still and normally doesn't really get bothered by it until someone says something about it and reader gets insecure and the paired character being sweet and all comforting etc. ♡
Rant under the read more button. (You can just scroll away if you don't want to read it.)
I'll add dates to it to make it a bit clear.
Anyways, so thursday 16 June I had to let a CT scan taken for my lower jaw. I have a wisdom teeth that is growing wrongly and they needed pictures for the operation because the wisdom teeth is near a nerve and if it goes wrong I can lose feeling in my lower lip.
So, I am someone that cannot lay still or sit still. I always need something in my hands to fumble with, wether it is when I am walking, or when in class, if I don't have anything in my hands to fumble with I keep bouncing my legs or just keep changing positions I am sitting in.
Anyways, so I had to take that scan and needed to lay still for it. It normally doesn't take long. I had to do it 3 freaking times!! The first time the iron piece of my mask was on it so they had to take it away. Second time I apparantly swallowed when the picture got taken, swallowing also got count as movement (and the entire time I tried to lay still, but I kept getting twitches in my legs and head from forcing myself to lay still.)
So, the doctor taking those scans walked up to me, placed my head back right and I tried to keep the sticks in my mouth but not biting on it. (Idk why they gave me sticks to put under my teeth, probably to get a certain angle of my jaw.) And well I was already starting to panic, tears welling in my eyes but the doctor would tell me when I could swallow and when not.
So 3rd round finished and she told me I was done and did well and I once again told her I found it very difficult bc I can't lay still. Anyways, it was done and I could go home.
Friday 17th June we got a call from the hospital apparantly I had also moved on the 3rd!! round of taking the scan picture, I bursted out in crying!! I tried so hard to lay still only to hear it wasn't good and the soonest I could take a new scan would be end June.
So, I was in tears so my mom called around mainly to ask if I still could get my wisfom teeth get removed. Even when it would be just 1 or 2 out of those 4. They told me they would call back on Monday, June 20. My operation is supposed to be on Wednesday June 22.
My wisdom teeth have been hurting like a bitch since November 2021, we got me a dentist appointment somewhere on January 2022, and I got a scan in April and got the operation planned for this month. (For that scan I had to olace my chin on a holder and then the devide would turn around me. I once again had a hard time keeping my head still and to not move.)
And in the whole meantime the communication between the hospital and us sucked as fuck. They had papers for the CT scan but we didn't know anything about it!
Anyways, back to today (June 17.) I made an appointment with my doctor, luckily being able to go today and we told about everything that happened and how annoying and insecure it all made me. We talked about what it could be, if it could be of my medication I take for my epilepsy or if we should test me on ADHD, but then my doctor went all sweet!!
She asked me what I would get if I took the test and I said "Just a label," where she responded on that I said that well and she told me that I was just me. That those ticks (she called it them) were a part of me. That it is who I am and no one should say differently and that it was wrong from the hospital to act like that etc. And that it doesn't matter if I am a more of a restless or nervous person because that is what makes me 'me', and she for sure boosted my confidence back up, I'm so gratefull for that!!
Of course it still haunts me and is literally keeping me awake, even though my doctor is totally right, my ticks are a part of me. Not being able to sit still is a part of me. It's who I am. But well, knowing that it did mess up the 3 tries of the scan still weighs heavily on me.
I just hope the operantion can happen as I have been going through hell with the pain for months. I even took antibiotics twice! I'm just so done with it and just needed to get it off my chest.
So, lots of cookies to anyone that readnit ♡♡
#genshin impact x reader#childe x fem!reader#childe x reader#rant post#kaeya alberich#kaeya x reader#kaeya x fem!reader#xiao x reader#xiao x fem!reader#childe tartagalia#tartaglia x fem!reader#one shot#genshin x reader
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Silena and Jason make up
Part 8 of Sirens Scream Names Forgotten by Tomorrow, Laid to Rest in Infinity
(also posted under cut)
“God said: God made you. God does not care if you are guilty. I said: I care if I am guilty! I care if I am guilty! God was silent. Everything was silent. I lay back down in the snow.”
- The War of Vaslav Nijinsky (Frank Bidart)
It’s not often he wishes he was a child again but fuck he wishes he was a child again. To have all that brash, ignorant naivete that drove him to Ethiopia. To not comprehend every conceivable way in which apologies can go wrong. To think that love is so universal that it can survive any hateful words spoke in anger.
To have the courage to just knock on the door.
He has a fucking key, for crying out loud. She never took it back. There was no time to take it back. Maybe he should go. Slide the little metal piece under the door and get the fuck out of here before she-
Opens the door. Blinks at him. Freezes him in place and makes his breath catch even as he sees tear tracks dried on her face.
“Either come in or leave,” her voice is raspy and raw, rubbing him the wrong way too. “But stop making me feel whatever this,” she gestures to him from head to foot with an irritable flap of her hand, “is outside my door all day.”
“I’ll come in,” he says before his head can catch up to his heart. Before logic can outweigh his need to be so tightly wound with her that there is no telling where they each begin and end. One continuous being, forever bound and inseparable.
Part of him wishes she didn’t let him in so easily. That she would put up even a token resistance, make it a bit easier for his better sense to win out. If she took even a moment to argue with him, there might have been a way to escape from whatever cocktail of love and anger and-
(Devotion, loyalty, whatever it is you call virtuous that killed you in the first place.)
He steps in as she steps back. The door shuts behind him, a final gavel slam of judgment.
(Where will her gods put you when you die? Where did they put you the first time?)
“Clarisse is still here.” It’s a warning of some kind. If it means a lack of privacy or his impending death, he doesn’t know.
“Why did you come to Gotham?” he blurts. She blinks, the two of them huddled together in the bubble of illusionary privacy that her little corner foyer offers. Almost chest to chest, her craning her neck up and back as he hunches his spine and peers down.
“Because Gotham is the most dangerous place for someone like me,” she answers, quiet, near breathless. “But it’s the only place I could go where I wouldn’t be hunted by people like her.” She jerks her head towards the rest of the apartment. He doesn’t bother to check if Clarisse is watching. It doesn’t matter.
“This city will kill you,” he warns and her eyes sparkle with a joyful humor that makes his heart seize in his chest like some invisible hand has reached out and decided to pop it open.
“I’m a dead woman walking everywhere I go.” Her fingers reach up, barely skimming the streak of white in his hair. That permanent reminder that he should be in the ground, not about to launch himself into her arms. “But at least now I can say I’ve lived first.”
“Silena…” He knows this is a bad idea. There’s too much left unsaid between them, too many words spoken in rage but here he is anyway. Drawn to her touch, her light, just.. her like a moth to its demise in flame. Maybe she’ll incinerate him, maybe she’ll set him free, but at least he’s going to get one more-
Clearing her throat, her cheeks flush as she steps back, skitters away, bursts their small haven of quiet words, half-felt touches and near-shared breaths. It hurts, but the ache is more pressing on an old bruise. Why would she let him near?
“Would you like something to drink?” Ever polite, ever charming. He clenches his fists to resist the urge of following the trail her fingers cut across her cheek with his own, to pull that bit of hair she just tucked away free just so he can watch her do it all again.
“Sure.” Dance the dance, play the part. That’s all they’ve ever done. Pretend, turn blind eyes that see too much.
“I’ll get you some tea.” He’d prefer something a lot stronger, but his instincts tell him not to be compromised around her.
(Bit late for that, isn’t it?)
(Shut up.)
(Hm, no.)
The front rooms are empty, devoid of the person she’d assured him was still here.
(Liar-)
“Clarisse is in the back,” Silena jerks her head towards the bedroom. “Sent her there when I felt you. Figured this didn’t need an audience.”
“Hm.” He’s grateful even as he’s antsy. There’s a variable here, one he doesn’t know and lingering out of his sight. It itches along his spine and he can’t watch her do the familiar routine he knows like the back of his hand.
So he plops on the couch instead, sprawling out across it. Like he can shape himself into the exact form of however many people have also called these sticky vinyl cushions a temporary home. Maybe, if he can contort himself properly-
The kettle clicks on, the low hum increasing the restlessness in his bones, the need to pop his joints over and over and over just to do something besides do what he came here to do. Talk.
But even as the kettle begins to burble cheerfully, the first signs of a boiling point, there’s nothing else presenting itself as a distraction.
“What did you do?” There’s nothing else to do but talk besides go insane and he’s done enough of that already. “After…” He doesn’t find the courage to finish the sentence.
“I didn’t stay long,” she says, clicking on her kettle. Always ready in times of crisis, the routine of her busy hands making Jason release a half-laugh of a breath. A nervous tic he recognizes well now, her inability to stand still, to not constantly be doing something with her hands even as conversation occupies her mind. A tic he’s sharing right now it seems. Only he can’t invade her space. He has no right. Not anymore. “After you two left. I went out.” I went out, the implication of those words sink into his chest and claw viciously at his shriveled, necrotic remains of a heart.
“Where did you go?” he asks, eyes closed under his forearm. It’s totally not because he’s too big a coward to actually look at her. It's a good thing the back of the couch prevents him from seeing the no doubt smug satisfaction on her face. She’ll know she’s under his skin, trying to dig into him like he ripped into her, don’t give in.
“I went hunting,” she says blandly. Something pops, a jar unsealing. Opening up the honey then. The kettle burbles.
“Hunting?” Now he peers up from under his forearm at the dinghy ceiling in confusion.
“For the Joker.” Now he freaks the fuck out-
“You what!” Sitting up that quickly was a terrible idea for keeping consciousness, but the adrenaline keeps him upright as his vision spots. “You went-”
“Hunting for the Joker,” she repeats calmly, but now that he’s looking at her he can see her knuckles turning white, her teeth biting into her lip. Blind side facing him. “I wouldn’t stop you, but I would get to him first.”
“But you could have stopped me,” he blurts because he’s stupid. She freezes for a moment before slowly turning her head to actually look at him for the first time since she walked away from him. “Clarisse told me,” he babbles on because he’s so very stupid and throwing everyone under the bus to die with him. “Charmspeak.” Silena stares a little longer, then snorts. A harsh, violent wrenching of sound from deep in her chest as her tongue flicked out to swipe over teeth baring in a macabre imitation of a grin. Hauntingly familiar, like a death’s head grimace that always results from-
“I could have.” It’s as sure as a blow to the head. “But I…” she shakes her head, lips shutting, teeth tucked away under the illusion of civility again. Of life. “I won’t. I can’t. Not to you. Not even to save your life. I- I won’t take that from you.”
“So you went hunting the Joker instead?” How the fuck he found someone even more insane than him, he’ll never know.
(Are you thanking the gods or cursing them?)
(Does it matter? Doesn’t seem like they care.)
(You know what they say about assuming.)
(Fuck ‘em.)
“Yes.” Her chin lifts, daring him to restart the argument and oh he wants to-
“Hunting the Joker,” he mumbles, trying to pretend like the thought of her, standing over a crumpled body in an alley with a knife and those bared teeth and blood on her hands doesn’t do anything for him.
He’s terrible at lying to himself.
“He’s not in Gotham,” she supplies like all they’re discussing is yesterday's weather. “At least not that I could find yet.”
“How?” he demands, ignoring the yet part of that sentence. This is already enough of a fight without adding the dimension of implying she’s not done-
She shoots him a disbelieving look.
“You’re smart, Jason,” she snaps. “Figure it out.”
“I-” he stops himself. Takes a breath. Lays back down. “I didn’t come here to fight,” he says mulishly, glaring up at oily smoke-stains.
“Then why did you come?” she presses, voice significantly colder than it had been before. He takes another deep breath.
“I came to apologize.” He waits a moment, but she doesn’t seem to have anything to say. He sits back up. Maybe seeing her will change things. Convince her of his sincerity or some shit. “I’m sorry,” he hopes she can feel his regret, however her little talent works. “What I said was… I shouldn’t have. It was out of line and… I was angry. I should have slowed down. I should have… I don’t know what I should have done. But I absolutely should have never said that.”
“But you did.”
“But I did.” Silence engulfs them, so total that for a moment Jason wonders if he’s back in the ground, not even a heartbeat thundering in his ears of breath stirring in his lungs. Her blind eye bores into him and he can’t stop staring at the way the scarring around it looks like drops of red, puckered trails of a bloodstain, pink rolling down her cheeks like eternal tears emerging from a weeping head wound.
“You’re wrong,” she says at last, lips barely moving. “I don’t care if you believe me or not, but you’re wrong.”
“I’m wrong about a lot of things,” he admits hoarsely, ducking his head in shame until his chin digs into the vinyl, making them creak and groan under the weight. Breaking the silence, the tension, the guilt and reminding them that the world is still spinning.
“I wish there was a way to make this a two way street.” She takes a step, the first onto a rickety bridge built by half-assed understandings of each other. “That you could feel me the way I feel you.”
“I don’t.” He can’t imagine stepping into the world and bearing the weight of all its grief, its fear, day in and day out. “I…”
(You don’t know what you want.)
(I want her.)
It’s all he knows.
“I don’t know how to let you go,” he confesses, the closest he can come to admitting what she knows. “I can’t let you go.” It’s ugly, this yawning beast in his chest that wants her inside of his very being. Subsumed into his existence, utterly entwined with him until there is no point of separation.
“It isn’t kind.” She takes another step and he’s looking at both life and death, cradled in her palms, entombed in her face. His fingers itch, for a trigger or her skin, he doesn’t know. “What I feel for you. This” —she touches her heart, takes another step—“isn’t soft or sweet. I’ve loved someone that way before. I was willing to die for him.” Her shoulders heave in a deep breath as she takes another step. “But that’s not the love I have for you. I’m not willing to die for you Jason.” He stands, the couch between them, cushions pressed against his shins and the back meets her stomach. Blood stained cushions wiped clean again. “I am not willing to die. But I am willing to kill.”
“I can’t let you go,” he repeats, a broken whisper.
“Then walk beside me,” she urges, holding out a hand over the barrier between them. “I won’t leave.”
“Even if we walk together, we’ll never see eye to eye on him,” he warns, but he takes her hand anyway. Because he cannot let her go.
“I know.” She tugs him forward until he’s braced on the back of the couch, closer to her level and he cannot resist the overwhelming force of her, his own desire to close that last distance and taste her again. All brimstone and iron and his hand digs into her neck, like he can hold her there forever. Teeth and tongue and blood, painting each other with possession. It’s not kind, she had said, and he’s not a kind man. Not anymore. It’s not kind, the way he hauls her over the couch and into his embrace. It’s not sweet, the way her nails dig into him, and he knows there’s blood on the damn couch again.
(What a monster she’s awoken. How long before you devour her?)
(She’s devoured me.)
Carved herself into his bones, sanctified herself in his blood, stolen his breath and consumed his heart. The bloody strings are still hanging from her teeth as she bites his lip and he yanks her closer to ensure there’s nothing left of his carcass by the time she’s done.
(Dead boy, forgotten girl, monsters of your own making.)
(Exactly.)
She pulls away first, letting him burrow into her neck and paint it purple with a pleased hum. His blood under her nails, is bruises around her throat, her scars on his body and their hearts beating as one again.
“You won’t stop, will you?” he asks against her skin, licking the imprint of his teeth so very close to her jugular. Violence and love, so very close to each other.
“No. I’m not.” Her fingers in his hair pull him back until he’s looking up at the stubborn set to her jaw and ice in her eyes. He focuses on the redness around her lips instead, the irritated skin yet another mark of his presence. “I refuse to.”
“I can’t help you,” he confesses. “I can’t watch you take those risks-”
“Then don’t.”
“What?”
“Then don’t.” She nudges their noses together, chest to chest, eye to eye. Her fingers trace the jagged line over his temple, down through his rough stubble until she finds the carved J and taps it. “Hunt on your own if you must, but so will I. Don’t stop me and I won’t interfere with you.”
“What do you want to do then?” he asks, half-hysterical. “Compare notes?”
“I don’t know!”
“Seems to be a running theme,” comes a new voice. Clarisse is leaning in the doorway, hands in the pockets of what Jason’s pretty sure are a spare set of his sweatpants.
“What do you want?” he snaps, exasperated. If his hands on Silena’s hips spasm, he’ll plead ignorance until he sees new bruises.
“Come on,” the interloper jerks her head. “You can talk more later. But you need to blow up a building before you blow a blood vessel.”
“We’re in the middle of something, Clair,” Silena tries to brush her off.
“In the middle of another pointless fight from the looks of it. Just when you’ve made up too. And I’m not suited to walking through minefields so let's not make any more, okay?” He hesitates but Clarisse snorts and doesn't give him a choice.
Kneeling on couch cushions isn’t the most stable position, so when she tugs roughly his shoulder, he almost falls with a rather undignified yelp.
“Alright, alright,” he grumbles because really, she’s right. If he stays, they’re going to fight again. Silena knows it too, by the way she sighs but slithers out of his lap, pouting the whole time. “I’ll be back,” he promises. Silena smiles, nodding her acceptance.
As he walks out the door, eyes fixed on Clarisse’s back, he does his best to ignore the part of him that’s latched onto the alarming thought that she hadn’t promised him she’d be there waiting.
(She doesn’t love you enough to wait.)
(She doesn’t love me enough to die.)
(You’re going to get her killed.)
He follows Clarisse down the rickety stairs and into an alcove barely big enough for both of them.
“Do you have a place in mind?” she asks.
“Joker’s got a couple safehouses,” he replies, quickly rotating through the list he’d nabbed from Barbara last time Dick bullied him into the manor. “About six I haven’t gotten to yet.”
“Plenty of time.”
“For what?”
“For you to not drive yourself insane while she does what she’s going to do.” He swears under his breath, only her fist pressing against his shoulder in warning stopping him from striding back up those stairs. “She’s going to do it,” Clarisse warns, eyes dark with a knowledge that Jason would kill for even as he fears it.
“I don’t want her to die,” he whispers, a harsh reminder of the only ending Gotham holds for everyone who lives there.
“Are you deaf?”
“What?”
“She’s not going to die for you.” The fist falls, something complicated passes over Clarisse’s face, bitter and angry and devastated. Gone as quick as it comes. “You’re worth more to her than her life.” There’s nothing he can say to that, not in the face of whatever Clarisse is feeling as a result. “Come on,” she yanks him out of their alcove of shared secrets and back into reality.
“I’ve got a stockpile nearby,” he says, half against his will.
“You’re that easy, huh?” But the mockery is the same as all of his. Defensive.
“Yeah,” he swallows, their shoulders knocking together as they walk down the narrow street under dark shadows. Consuming them both in red and black and damned. “Because you need to do this just as much as me.” Clarisse may only care for Silena, but that didn’t matter when Jason didn’t have to look over his shoulder as much in the dead of night. For that, he’d return the favor. The bowels of Gotham have plenty of goon-riddled houses for her to blow a few for herself.
—
Silena isn’t anywhere to be found when they get back. Her bedroom is empty, every window and door is closed, locked and no sign of forced entry.
“She may have just left,” Clarisse suggests but Jason knows she’s lying. Knows she was in on this. That he’s been played. Hell, he knew that when he let himself be walked out the door. He appreciates the effort, even if he’s tired of playing pretend. “Taken a walk.”
“She-” he rubs his face in pure frustration. Look where lying to himself had gotten him? “I’m losing this battle, aren’t I.”
“Silena can take care of herself.” The woman who knows his lover better than he does grabs his shoulder and steers him towards the couch, forcing him to the creaky vinyl-
(Hm, too clean.)
-cushions with the exact opposite of delicacy. “She’s a tough cookie.”
“Joker’s cracked tough cookies before,” he mumbles, not that I was tough, being all of fifteen, but he goes without a struggle. It’s the closest any of them can get to a verbal surrender in this war.
“And Silena can sweet talk a mountain into moving miles. She’ll come back.”
“I hope to whatever god you want to lob that prayer to that you’re not wrong.” Clarisse barks out a laugh.
“You’re learning, Hood,” she grins at him, all teeth and fire and blood, a matching beast to the monster in his chest. Both of them pacing and slobbering and snarling, bloodthirsty beasts that Silena let in the door and keeps at the foot of her bed like pets. “Keep doing that and you might just live.”
“Can’t kill what’s already died.”
“If that were true, we would be gods.”
“And we’re certainly not their favorites, are we?”
“I wouldn’t be so quick to assume that,” Clarisse cautions. He looks at her in disbelief.
“Everything that’s happened, and you think the gods like-”
“They’re gods, Jason,” she cuts him off. “Their love is…” Her tongue rolls over her teeth, face twisting in pained recollection. A hairline scar on her chin gleams in the low light, a reflection of another one cutting through her left eyebrow. “Depending on what god loves you, their expressions of that devotion are not always good.”
He’s interrupted from having to form a coherent response by the door opening, heralding the woman who brings both of her monsters to their feet in an instant.
Silena sweeps through the front door, gliding past both of them in a silent cloud of perfume and artfully draped silk. It reawakens that awful beast in his chest, one he sees mirrored in Clarisse’s face. The woman in question doesn’t acknowledge if she tastes that bitterness or not, just retreating right back behind that damn door.
Probably the best decision. As much as he knows he’s losing this cold war, it still pisses him off that she’s going out. And going out alone. So much so that he can’t stay in this apartment a moment longer without saying something even more colossally stupid than what he’s said in the past.
“Where are you going?” Clarisse asks, tipping her head to watch him yank his helmet back on, movements jerky with his anger.
“Back out.” Maybe if he comes back with Joker’s head, this ridiculous game of showing violent devotion would end.
“Figures,” she sighs, as she follows him again. And he doesn’t stop her. It’s weird, having someone at his back, but a welcome weird. He knows she’ll make sure he gets back to their shared axis of orbit, even if she has to kill to do it. He also knows why.
(What a pair you make.)
#jason todd#silena beauregard#clarisse la rue#batman#percy jackson and the olympians#my writing#ao3 link
1 note
·
View note
Text
Solo Para: Beg Your Fucking Pardon? (Iris)
TW: Abuse Mentions
She’s not technically a licensed anything, but Iris has worked with the villains for so long as that volunteer liaison, she knows them best, out of frankly anyone there. So they’d decided to give her an office on the premises.
And that’s where Iris has been sitting and reading through the notes and transcripts from this incompetent fucking man. Not to mention annotating the hell out of the file before her. She couldn’t even believe this was in front of her right now.
She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, leaning over to her phone, picking it up to just call the desk. “Is Stanley in today?”
“Yes, indeed,” answers the nurse at the desk. “Should I send him your way?”
“Please do,” Iris answers, chipper as ever. “Thanks.”
In a bit, as she’s finishing her last notes, there’s a knock against the open door. Looking up, Iris smiles at Stanley. “Come on in, and close the door.”
He doesn’t seem to be anxious in the slightest. Well, he is new, and frankly, rarely did staff here see this side of her. She motions for him to have a seat, smiling, her elbows resting on top of the file in front of her, resting her chin in her hands. “Stanley. You know how long I’ve been here? Seven years. I started volunteering here when I was 16. I wasn’t here long, maybe two months, before King Ben recommended I step up to the role I fulfill now, and I’ve been doing it ever since. I’ve seen a lot of doctors, nurses, therapists, hell, janitorial staff, come and go. And you know something?”
She slowly stands, leaning over the desk, her hands coming to rest on either side of the file now. “In my seven years here, I have never, ever, not once, met someone as COMPLETELY WORTHLESS AT THEIR JOB as you.”
He jumps, but wisely doesn’t speak, as she continues right along. “Do you know anything about this job? About this facility? Your recent session with Scroop was an example of gross negligence in its BEST case. Why wasn’t I informed you intended to have his child present? Screw that, why wasn’t Wendy, said child’s therapist, involved? We both should have been present for this meeting and the fact that I only found out because I was given your progress notes when I came in demonstrates a complete lack of thought process. You are a disgrace to the very thing I’m trying to get my degree and licensing in.”
“I--”
“No. Don’t say a word unless you’re told to. You are done speaking,” Iris’ eyes flare. “You should have done your basic homework and you couldn’t even do that, because if any of this is to be believed, you had no idea about a D.I.D. diagnosis that took place WITHIN THIS FUCKING FACILITY prior to asking the individual diagnosed to be present at a therapy session with no other support nor preparation. You have no regard for the well-being of anyone beyond your patient who is playing you like a cheap kazoo.”
He’s agape, but silent. She continues. “Now, I took the time to highlight some pertinent information from Scroop’s file as it appeared on the day you received it. That means everything I’ve highlighted for you, you should have been aware of before you first ever spoke to him. Before we continue, why don’t I have you read those highlighted portions for me?”
She shoves the file to him, glaring him down. He shakily opens it, putting on reading glasses, skimming down the page and clearing his throat. “P-patient shows ex- ex- extreme aggression,” she doesn’t feel bad as that stutter of fear creeps into his voice, and right now she doesn’t care that she doesn’t feel bad either, “--especially t-towards those viewed as ea-easy to cont-control through fear. Recommended-- recommended course of action wh-when interacting is laying down hard boundaries and not allowing patient the opportunity t-t-to overstep or try to talk his way into ov-overstepping.”
Iris leans forward, almost unaware of the dangerous spark in her eyes. “Go on.”
“Note: C-claims no physi... physical aggression but s-signs a-and evidence disagree. See file o-on child, Harper, for further information.”
“Now, I’ve checked the logs,” Iris remarks coldly. “You never checked out that file. Most of it is redacted because the child was underage, but the relevant bits regarding Scroop are still untouched. If you had actually done your job, you would not only have discovered the diagnosis, you would have found that nearly every alter in the system disputes the claim that he was never physically violent. So let’s review where we’re at so far. You didn’t fully read the actual file, you didn’t follow up with the relevant file of disputes, and you didn’t call in anyone else for approval or an action plan before you went forward bringing an abuse victim with diagnosed D.I.D. due to the abuse into a private setting with their abuser. Am I missing anything?”
Stanley clears his throat, face white as a sheet. “No. No ma’am.”
“That’s what I thought.” Iris finally sits back down. “So here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to be reassigned. I don’t have the weight to call for your outright dismissal just yet, so I’m going to have them move you to somewhere you can’t hurt somebody again. You’re going to sit down and you’re going to pour over every. Possible. Inch. Of the new file. You are going to check any relevant follow-up file, and you’re going to run what you’ve learned by me before you even SPEAK to your next patient. You’re going to know their file, their information, and their progress BACKWARDS before we next speak, or else next time, it WILL be your job. Am I making myself clear?”
“Y-yes, yes ma’am.”
“That’s what I thought. Get out.”
And he is GONE. Iris sits back, leaning her head back and closing her eyes a minute, taking the time to breathe. Okay. That was done. And she’d already sent the email to the relevant people about the reassignment.
Next was the fun part.
1 note
·
View note
Text
.
#welp I was definitely right about everything. i was so right that I was proven even more right than I even thought I was!! lmaooo#thankfully my wife is on the same page#because the amount of physical violence we witnessed that child inflict upon our child?#every couple minutes he was throwing something at him or shoving him or hitting him#and his parents do this ‘gentle parenting’ bullshit where they say in sweet voices ‘we need to be gentle with others’ bodies’#being subjected to that for three days? my wife has finally seen the light#it’s all stuff we’ve seen before but when it’s here and there it’s so easy to downplay#but seeing it aaaaaallllll weekend? makes it so fucking clear#so fucking clear that the first time someone lays a hand on my child should be the last fucking time#and I can’t believe I’ve allowed it to get this far#but they met when they were 2 and the other kid is autistic#so it was like… okay. we get it#still learning how to regulate your emotions and all that#but my kid is 4 and your kid is 4.5 and I have to CONSTANTLY stop your kid from hurting mine?????????#what the FUCK kind of universe do you think we fucking live in#need to be gentler with peoples bodies my fucking ass#fuck that!#I’ve never heard a single stern word from those parents to their kid which is just… in hindsight I can’t believe#I can’t believe I never thought that was weird.#but then again! never been around them that long at one time!!!#to see your child get physically attacked over and over and watch the other child’s parent do NOTHING#just say we need to be gentler with peoples bodies#over and over and over and over#the more I think about it the more enraged I get#i don’t believe in yelling at kids but if a kid physically hurts you or someone else?#it’s COMPLETELY APPROPRIATE for them to experience a natural consequence!!!!!!#the natural consequence of pissing someone off??? they get pissed off at you#needs to be age appropriate of course but these people LET THIS KID DO WHATEVER HE FUCKING WANTS#what kind of message are you sending your kid if you won’t give them ANY natural emotional/social consequence for their behavior?#fucking unbelievable
0 notes
Text
summary: gojo’s tired of you resisting him
warnings: home invasion, noncon, degradation, fem!reader
a/n: this was supposed to be a crumb for @mahitopegger i have no idea wtf happened. i didn’t edit this || reposted from sideblog (now deactivated) on 4/17/2021.
It was only after the soft click of your door, and the eerie silence thereafter that seemed to threaten to close you in, that you realized that something wasn’t quite right. Your eyes darted left, then right, and you kicked off your shoes slower than usual, setting them semi-haphazardly to the side of your entryway.
Even if you weren’t paranoid, you were still the type of person to double check, sometimes triple-check your locks on occasion before you left your home, and you did remember your key turning the right way just seconds ago.
Maybe you were overreacting - after all you lived in a relatively safe area, alone save for your cat with a propensity to mewl for food at all hours of the day. Ah, that was possibly the issue, the fact that your little furry friend hadn’t made his presence immediately. But he knew how to be quiet sometimes, and was fond of an early afternoon nap.
The sound of your keys clattering on your coffee table now seemed unceremoniously loud, like you were disturbing a religious service. In your own house.
Your heart started to race for just a moment, and you turned around quickly.
Nothing. No person, no ghost, no cat. Just you, a sudden sense of unease, and your rapidly beating heart.
Why were you so anxious?
You couldn’t recall the last time you’d felt so unsettled for the moments in which you paced down your hallway, ears tuned to the soft footfalls of your presumably sleeping companion. You would have whispered its name but you didn’t want to wake up the needy little bastard unnecessarily.
It was only three paces in that you stilled suddenly, and the memory of the last time you’d felt this way suddenly struck vividly in your mind.
Clear blue eyes, bordered by long, pale white eyelashes. A smile, once easy and bright, with corners turned up far too high into malice.
You froze.
Was it him? Was Gojo in your house? He wouldn’t... would he?
Your last encounter had been... suboptimal, to say the least. You’d all but told him to get lost, that you weren’t and would never be interested, not after knowing who he was, what he was.
You needed a quiet, calm existence. Your imprint on the world would be measured. You had to stay away from bad omens like his.
But his reaction had been unnatural. He hadn’t given you a real response, just a smile, and you had felt just as unnerved then as you did now before you parted.
You were clearly still spooked.
But these nerves were just vestiges of your anxiety. Gojo knew how to take no for an answer. Of course he did.
He didn’t - you opened your bedroom to find the young sorcerer waiting for you, your cat comfortable in his arms.
“Ah! You’re back~”
Gojo didn’t move; rather, he continued to sit in his relaxed position, legs outstretched onto the bed, palm stroking softly at the soft orange fur. The soft purr of the docile animal filled the air with sharp contrast to your wordless mouth, opening and closing once in shock, and the frenzied beat of your heart.
He smiled before his eyes did, and shifted on top of your covers, getting to his feet. Dressed casually in a white t-shirt and a loose pair of sweatpants, as though he’d been lounging around your house the entire day... as though he lived here.
“W-what are you doing here?” You choked out.
His eyebrows furrowed, and his hold on the little creature relaxed, who remained for just a moment, mewing once before jumping off his lap, brushing by your legs that felt as though they would start shaking any moment, and then promptly sauntered out of the room.
“You didn’t tell me you had a cat,” Satoru remarked, now sitting with legs criss-crossed on the bed, hair mussed and relaxed, and with affect as bright as a child on his first sleepover. He patted the space on the bed next to him, beckoning you to come sit. “Did you have a good day?”
“Gojo, please get out of my house.”
His expression darkened for just a moment before it returned to its natural cheeriness. He patted the space next to him again.
“You must be tired. I can make you something. Tea?”
Your feet were glued to the ground, neither advancing nor retreating.
“P-please leave,” you repeated, more wary this time. Your hands were starting to shake and you watched his eyes flicker to them, then back to your eyes.
“Why would I do that?” He said, tilting his head ever so slightly.
His eyes bore into yours and you felt your stomach turn.
“Don’t you like my attention?”
“Satoru, please,” you continued, your lower lip wobbling inadvertently. “Please, just leave... I won’t tell anyone you came here, just... I can’t return whatever feelings you have, so just go.”
Your fists clenched and unclenched, but you still were so tense, planted onto the floor as though you were a sharp dagger thrust into vulnerable flesh. Why weren’t your feet moving? You should be running. Running as far as you can from this man who could just as easily become a monster if he so pleased.
As though he knew you’d already become powerless - not that it made a difference, the power differential was already so vast - he rose, walking towards you in an open, unguarded stance. He wasn’t afraid of you in the least. The very thought made your blood boil.
Once he stood before you, towering over your shorter, smaller frame, his lips pursed.
“Stop shaking.”
It was a command, given in an annoyed but direct fashion.
You don’t know why you eked out, powerlessly, “I can’t.”
“You weren’t this afraid when you were telling me to fuck off a couple days ago,” he noted. His hand rose to grip your chin, tilting your face to him. You don’t know when you’d started crying, but tears were now streaming down your face, warm and wetting his fingers.
“You’re crying? Where’s the sass you had then?”
“Please...”
Against your better wishes, his lips pressed to yours, and somehow then, your body remembered that adrenaline could also make you fight, and you did fight, thumping your hands balled into fists against his chest and his shoulders, as his hand gripped your chin tighter and his tongue forced its way down your throat. Once he’d gotten tired of your struggle, his other arm hooked around your waist, and he pulled you closer, pressing you against his body.
Your screams were muffled by his kiss as it grew deeper, and at some point, he’d decided on biting your lip painfully, drawing blood once he’d threatened you to shut the fuck up before he gave you something to cry about for real.
You remembered that the first time Gojo had kissed you, it had been soft and tender, nothing like this kiss that was violent and demanded submission; once his hand moved from its grip on your chin, it grasped your hair, fingers twisting and tugging to tilt your head back.
His lips left yours, now red and soon purple and blue, and made their way down your neck to mark them the same.
Every scream was futile, every plea for mercy fell on deaf ears.
At some point, you may have heard your cat meow for something... food? Out of sympathy? You weren’t sure, all you could think about were the painful hickeys on your collarbones and traveling down your bosom.
“I don’t know why you’re so resistant. You yourself called me selfish,” he murmured, ripping the top part of your clothing with the nonchalance with which one would peel a banana. At the sight of your exposed breasts, he was like a man rabid, slamming you backwards into the wall without much regard for head injury. His left arm caged you in, while his right pressed painfully onto your breast.
He paused for a moment, and grinned salaciously.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that~! You look so docile... it’s weird coming from you.”
To that, a fire renewed in your eyes, and you spat directly in his face. His lips curled again in satisfaction, barely reacting to the spittle dripping down his pretty features.
“Fuck you.”
“I will.”
With a small chuckle, he jerked your face painfully to the left such that you couldn’t look at him directly as he took your breast into his mouth.
The idea of this bastard suckling on you, loudly, lewdly as though you’d belonged to him only made the churn in your stomach worse, but the desperate attempts to a knee to his chest were met with barely a resistance. Like he knew you couldn’t hurt him and it was only a matter of time until you stopped and succumbed to him.
The process was already happening - you could feel your nipples hardening and a new flow of heat in your panties. Your tears became more prolific - no longer fear, but rage, but the hand that kept you steady against the wall was impossibly strong.
Your head swam as a confused pleasure started to replace the pain and fear you were feeling. More clothing was torn off of you, more of your skin was marked and licked and sucked. Once your panties were ripped to shreds, he lay your now languid and fight-drained body against him, cooing appreciatively at the new helplessness, pumping two slender fingers up and down your wet inner core as he moved you from the hard wall to the soft bed.
You almost thanked him.
His fingers remained within you as he laid you down, but once he withdrew his touch as your pounding hazy head hit the pillow, he replaced them with the roughness of his tongue, penetrating you without the least bit of shame.
You let slip the moan you had been holding in in defiance.
“That’s it, baby, let me hear you.”
He continued to lick and you continued to mewl.
Once he’d tired of the taste of your cunt, he invaded your privacy in the most all-encompassing way possible, pushing every inch of a greedy, throbbing cock inside of you. As you cried from the stretch, he shushed you with a hand clasped over your mouth to muffle your screams.
As if someone was going to help you. Maybe your cat would come and watch, but he’d found something else to do.
“I know it hurts but you’ll get used to it, I promise, babe,” he murmured, groaning slightly as he seated himself to the hilt. “There.”
He stilled and in the silence of the moment only punctuated by both of your soft pants, you remembered how to sob.
His nose crinkled, and he let out of a soft sigh, cock jerking impatiently inside you.
“Why are you so stubborn?” He mused, leaning against you so that his head rested in the softness of your breasts. He could hear your heartbeat that doesn’t beat for him... but rather it did, because he is the one making it quicken in some odd rhythm of terror and pleasure.
You didn’t speak because there was far, far too much to yell.
As though a timer had rung to mark the end of his empathy, he rose onto his hands again, sighing as he adjusted into the plushness of your walls that didn’t reject him as fervently as you did. He moved, shoving two fingers down your throat to gag your renewed protests as he thrust into you repeatedly.
The short gasps with every stroke only encouraged him, and the immense pleasure he found in the light of your eyes starting to fade into a placid dullness.
“You love me,” he informed you with every rut.
You didn’t answer.
You weren’t sure what this disgusting repetitive sensation bringing your body to climax was. You were no longer sure what he was even talking about, just that there was a warm thing pumping inside of you and fingers down your throat and pain everywhere else in your body, particularly your neck and shoulders and arms and breasts, and you were staring into precious sapphires littering the base of twin lakes.
“You love me,” he repeated. “I know you do.”
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#yandere gojo#yandere gojo x reader#tw noncon#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#gojo sm#not sfw#gojo smut#mae.drabble#mae.writing
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Heyyy hope you’re well, I loved you fic. Your so talented. I just wanted to ask if you would do a part 2 of lip x reader where he realises reader was always there for him and he ruined everything with her and tries to go back to her. It can end however 💕
Lip Gallagher X Reader-Imagine trying to convince Lip that Helene, his professor, isn't the best thing for him, but he can't see the truth
@bxnnywatts , @izraahh1 , and anon thanks for suggesting a part 2. I had a lot of fun writing this, and it inspired me with some great ideas!
Also, to the anon that wanted a Lip seeing reader 10 years later. I'm working on it 😊
Lip realizes his mistake
After you left Lip to fend for himself on the ground, he could only stay on the ground and reflect. He felt slightly numb as more of the alcohol from earlier kicked in. He was feeling terrible as it is, but after what happened between you two, his stomach panged. Although he was feeling pretty helpless, it was starting to get dark out, so he sat up and took out his phone. He attempted to call you, but you hung up quickly. He sighed and rose to his feet. He called and called as he made his way through the street not really searching for any particular place, but he let his feet carry him.
Lip found his way to Kev and V’s. Both of them give an alarmed look at Lip’s state. Lip lays money on the table and says, “Keep‘em coming.” V gives Kev a stern look and motion him over to Lip. Kev nods and walks over. He serves him a pint and asks, “Everything alright, bud?” Lip down ths pint in reply. “Alright then, but you seem like you started your party earlier today .“
"Well, the party’s not over, I guess.” He taps at his glass for another one, which Kev provides. V rolls her eyes at Kev and makes her way over.
“Is there something you want to talk about, Lip?”
“V, you don’t just ask a guy-”
“I am a terrible human being. I mean no wonder Helene doesn't want to be with me, but now...now, I’ve ruined it with them too…” He lays his head sideways on the bar with a frown and closed eyes. V looks over to Kev with satisfaction on her face while Kev waved her off. Lip grabs onto the pint and starts chugging it. V grabs onto him, stopping him at a little less than half and urges, “Okay. Okay! You’ve had enough.”
“Not fair. I’m not done.”
“This is all you're getting for a while.” Lip shrugs feeling the bizz hit him quickly as he was already tipsy from the drinks he’d had earlier that day.
“Why did I have to go and say that stuff?”
“What stuff?”
“Like like-I have to take a piss.”
“Huh?” He stands up and repeats, “I have to take a piss. You-" He points accusingly to his pint glass. V caught off guard by the action. Lip goes forward and stumbles before he points once more to his glass to say, "Stay." As Lip goes into the bathroom, V can only state, “I’m worried about that child.”
Lip is quick to do his business and is on his way out until he finds himself in the mirror. He had to agree that he didn’t look like himself. He ran his hand over his face before he washed his face in aggravation. He looks to himself, but all he can see is you yelling, “You’re the worst! You don’t deserve anyone, so you certainly don’t deserve me! I’ve been there for you always! Always! How could you throw me away like nothing?! I should’ve thrown you away a long time ago! You're projecting, you're pathetic!” He sucks in a breath and whispers, “You hate me…” He looks up in hopes to see you again; however, he is only met with his own reflection and wanting nothing more than to see you again. Reality setting in that he may get the reality of not seeing you in front of him again.
With that fear, he rushes forward out of the bathroom knocking into someone’s shoulder, which causes him to fall over head first onto the ground. Everyone becomes alarmed, but Kev and V rush over. Quietly, Lip says, “I hate me too."
"Wha?" Kev asks.
"They didn't say they hated me when we talked but they should have because I mean what kind of person let alone a best friend would-Can’t lose them. I have to go to the-” V interrupts him to ask, “Hun, are you okay?”
“I can’t let them go...especially not like this.” Lip tries to get up, but Kev restraints him with the soothing words of, “Yeah, yeah, you can do that later. Right now, you’re not going anywhere.”
“I have to-Y/N-” Lip can’t resist Kev's restraint anymore than he can act like nothing happened.
Kev and V walk into the Gallagher’s house much to Fiona’s discontent. As Kev leaves Lip to sleep it off, V fills in Fiona as best she can about what happened at the bar. Fiona thanked them before going to check on Lip. He didn’t seem like he’d wake up anytime soon. She grabbed his phone for some kind of clue and saw all of the calls he’d made to you. She narrowed her eyes to the cell in her hand unsure of what could happen between you two and wastes no time in dialing you on her cell. You didn’t dare to answer her and turned your phone off. Since you weren't on good terms with Lip, you couldn’t risk another Gallagher's persuasion, so you did your best to sleep that late night.
In the morning, Lip was woken up by Ian stomping into the shared room and dropping a huge box carelessly into his lap.
“Uhmm, ow!” Lip groaned.
“Yeah. Boo hoo you and your bo bo.” Lip starts looking into the box. At first, he was unsure of the items in front of him, but he made out movie tickets, restaurant receipts, a few notes. It wasn’t until he saw a few polaroid's and photo booth pictures of him and you that he understood what the box was.
“Wha-Where did you get all this?” Ian lays a hand on his hip in reply. Lip rolls his eyes at his brother and asks, “Are you trying to tell me you have an obsession with me and Y/N?” Ian grabs the pillow on the bed and slaps Lip with it. “Why are you hitting me so much today?”
“Lip, you are an idiot!”
“What for?!”
“Jesus, this box belongs to Y/N. They kept everything between you two, like ever.” Lip looks down and remembers the last words you two exchanged.
“You go around pining for me in hope someday you’ll be the one. You’re pathetic! You can’t be the one because Colleen was! She is! You’re single because no one wants you! You try to act so high and mighty! If you're so great and talented, leave! You’re useless around here! You fucking suffocating me with your supposed love and care! Thanks so much for it! You-”
”Stop!..I get it. You don’t want me around. Get some help from a sponsor and go to the AA meetings.” Tears began to pour, and you sniffled. “You wouldn’t want to lose and hurt someone you actually care about.”
He looks to Ian and asks, “Why do you have this?” Possible answers running through his head but none of them sounding like the truth to at least not truths he wants realized.
“I found it...in the alley.” Lip sighs deeply. His heart felt like it was being wringed out. In all the years you’ve known him you always had a certain gentle touch to him. Always trying to keep from adding to his sufferings. I was something special he found in you unlike everyone else he’s ever met.
He’s taken from his thoughts by Ian asking, “What even happened between you two? They wouldn't let me in their house much less tell me what happened. I got so desperate that I was gonna try the back door when I saw the box.. Fiona mentioned that something happened between you two bu-”
”Fiona? What does she know?”
“Lip, catch up, no one knows what went down. We’d all like to know though…”
“We-uh-” Lip wipes at his drippy eyes. “We had a dispute.” He said simply and rose to his feat trying to get changed for the day. He kept his back in Ian’s view as he tried to internalize and bottle up the peering emotions.
“I figured. Are you gonna tell me about what-” Lip turned around swiftly and roared, “No!” Ian got up close to Lip and hollered, “Don’t go yelling at me! Fix your shit between the two of you!...They are my best friend too, and I know they’re hurting right now…” Lip sofens and flumps onto the bed. He ran his hands through his hair and shook his head.
“Ian, I know I hurt them. I always seem to...When they are nothing but there for me, god I really messed up. I wish-”
“Yeah. Yeah. Good stuff.” Ian picks Lip up from the bed. “While it’s fresh, don’t tell me, tell them.” Lip nods vigorously. He hurriedly gets on his shoes and makes his way out the door with the box of mementos in hand.
You’d gotten up that morning feeling just all sorts of terrible. You’d hardly gotten any sleep. Your eyes are all puffy and slightly sore from rubbing at them. You hadn’t eaten in hours, maybe in a day by now. You were awakened by Ian at your door, but you shied him away quickly. Thinking you could move on with you day was too optimistic as you heard a gentle knock on your door followed by the words, “Delivery!” The words coming out abnormally squeaky, so you knew something was up. You look through the peephole cautiously and see Lip. You try to figure out if you should say anything: tell him to leave, tell him you need time, tell him he really hurt you, play along with his charade; however, you're not allowed a choice when your phone goes off, your hands flounder for it in order to get it off. The caller being none other than Lip. You curse under your breath. Lip’s voice calls out on the other side of the door. “I know your home. Please let me talk to you…” Your tears falling out all over again.
“I-” Your voice running dry. You clear your throat and strongly say, “Go the fuck away! I don’t need this right now!”
“But, Y/N-”
“No! Fucking go! You cared at all about me, you’ll leave me the fuck alone!” He stumbled back drunk in shock of the words. Lip wanted to bust down the door to just hug you, or go off and drink until he passed out again. He just wanted anything other than this reality.
“I do care! I’m sorry If I hadn’t made that known...I should’ve.
You ask, “Are you drunk again?!” He sighs thinking of all the times he’d had to ask others that question that impulsively he answered, “No!” He cursed himself for it and replied once more softer, “No, I’m not.”
“Lip, that’s great in all, but you need help.” Lip’s lip trembles. He attempts to halt the rumble with his teeth, which was futile. You could hear it in his voice for his next words, “I know...You made it very clear to me that I needed help when you disappeared...Yes, it was only for about a day, but I need you to understand something.”
“There’s nothing else to say. I understand.” Lip narrows his eyes and asks, “You do?” You nod although he can’t see you and explain, “We’ve been friends for a long...long time…” Lip smiles hopeful of the response to come; however, it is short lived as you follow up with, “and it’s time to branch out. I mean you have college, different needs, different friends, so...ummm...if you came out of guilt, I’ll just leave you with no-” You clench at your heart as it clenches. It physically was starting to hurt you, but you managed the last few words, “no hard feelings.” Lip pounded at the door once, which made you flinch back.
“No hard feelings? No, no, Y/N?...Y/N that’s not how I feel at all. What I said to you, it was wrong for one thing but also far from the truth. I told you some of the biggest lies when we spoke-Look, I’m horrible. I admit it, and I wouldn’t blame you if you thought so too. I just can’t have you thinking any of this is on you. I can’t have that no matter how this turns out between us...Making you feel like this isn't even my only crime against you-” You heard him shudder on the other end of the door. You walked forward gently but stopped short. You find yourself and open the door. Your face is only reading sullen. Lip’s about to move forward, but the pain he reads in you stops him. Tears pour from your eyes, and you continue to say, “What did you expect?! You choose some woman that’s hurt you so many times it seems over your supposed best friend! I have been there for you! I do not deserve this treatment! I deserve better! You don’t get that, and I don’t think you ever will…I could chalk it up to your drama and being too damaged, but honestly, Lip it's your own damn fault...Years together, and you can’t see what you have right in front of you. Goodbye. Hope things work out for you...” You see how he hangs his head low and begins to sob. You hadn't decided exactly what you’d do with Lip. Glassy oceans meet your gaze. He reaches out and pulls you into a hug that you're not prepared for. His body started to shake against you. He mutters, “I’m sorry for hurting you,” over and over, at least that's what it sounded like at points. When his voice wasn’t cracking, he sounded like wind was knocked out from crying so hard. You wanted to hold him too and feel comfort. History told you that making this too easy on him was what you got you here in the first place. Reluctantly, with effort, you remove yourself from him. The pain in his eyes glossed in at the action.
“Hate you?!” You scoff. “I don’t-”
"You don't understand..." You sob out because this was all just so hard on you, which in turn was making it hard on him. He moves slowly forward and cradles your head gently and ends up resting his thumb on your cheek to wipe tears away.
"I know I don't understand what you feel, but I know what I was doing wrong now. I know how I've been hurting you." He breathed out trying his best to calm himself down. He bites at his lip. “My biggest crimes-” He clears her throat. “Taking you for granted. You know, I don’t always thank you for the things you do, especially not lately. I-I haven’t been on your side even when you’ve always been on mine.” He smiles softly. “It’s something I should of really seen before, but like you said, I’m people stupid. I just really want you to know that your not only the best friend I could ask for but the best person...I want you to know that even if you hate me now-”
“No, please just say it. I don’t want you to hold back.”
“Lip, I have hated how you’ve been lately, but hating you, now that’s too easy, so I don’t...”
“Really?” He whimpered.
“Really. I mean I was just at threshold, but I can’t hate you...I did really hate what you said to be though...I mean years of friendship-”
“I-I know. I said it because I was hurting. That wasn’t right.”
“I know you hurt, but I’ve only ever wanted to hurt together rather than leave you alone. That being said, I’m not sure where I want us to go from here…”
“Whatever you wa-”
“I’d really like you to sell to me why we should still have any kind of relationship. There are a lot of things you did, and I feel you care just-”
“I wish is acknowledges some things you do that I notice that I don’t flat out say that mean so much: making sure I eat in the sneaky ways you do like boasting it's so good or making “extra”, making sure I’m not cold-just you know caring for me in little ways..,” Your heart quickened at his confession. You didn’t think he’d noticed or cared. “I didn’t value our relationship like I should have. I will if you let me. One of the biggest things is I should've let you know how much I-I should've let you know how much I...I love you.” You swallowed at the words. While you knew he did care, you knew love was touchy for him, and he’d never said it to you. “I love you, Y/N.” You hugged onto him uttering against his shoulder, “That’ll do it.” You both laughed out loud. Lip held you tightly like you’d slip away, and he let out groans of relief. “Are you okay now?”
“Yeah, so relieved.”
“Me too.” You both stare at each other with smiles on your faces. He wipes at the dried and wet tears and states, “I’m really sorry that I made you cry.”
“Let’s call it even.” You wipe his face with your sleeve with a smile.
“There’s a smile.”
“Well, you caused it, and uhhh...Look, all the self loathing, you gotta work on that...and the drinking I’ll be here to help with that too bec-'' He gave you an expression of doe eyes before he leaned forward meeting his lips to your in which you returned. “Is that part of showing me you care?”
“Yeah. Something like that, but it’s a gesture to show I do love you. I should’ve done this sooner.”
“What about your pro-”
“No one compares to you. I now see that. So, permission to kiss you again.”
“Maybe after some food. I’m starving.”
“Fair enough. Where do I put this box?”
“Where did you get that?”
“Ian.”
“Ian?”
“I can’t believe you kept all this. Also, I’m embarrassed I didn’t make one myself.”
“You don’t think it’s kiddish?”
“No. It’s sweet.” He kisses your forehead.
“Wow, you're really sweet too. People's skills are already better.”
“I don’t know if I’m really less people stupid, but I know I’m less clueless about you. I’d like to become a Y/N expert.”
Hope your day got better
@lipgallagherstan
#lip gallagher#lipgallagherimagines#lip gallagher preference#lip gallagher x reader#lip gallagher fluff#shamelessimagine#shameless x reader#shameless preferences#shameless masterlist#imagine#preference#reader insert#reader imagine#x reader#fluff#One shot#lip gallagher fanfiction#lip gallagher one shot#angst#lip gallagher angst#gender neutral s/o#gender netural reader#gender neutral imagine#gender neutral reader#gender neutral
963 notes
·
View notes
Text
School Nurse
@letstalkaboutfandomsbaby led me to yet another 2D man that I want to get wrecked by
How would a school nurse react to Hwajin’s presence? Dabauchery will ensue.
AN: this started out as a short little drabble, turned into a long smutty mess that I finally rangled in with romance because… after care. As a nurse I was getting to into the logistics of the pencil stab
TW: smut, degradation, praise kink, breeding kink, power exchange, mild wound description (pencil stab), sex in a nurses office, oral sex
NO MINORS
Hwajin knew you would look good on your knees. You had a bratty, stubborn nature that he wanted to overpower. He thought you were too gentle with trouble makers. When he told you this, you argued that it was your job as a school nurse to take care of all the students.
How was it that you were so hostile with him but when it came to even the worst students you were so gentle. It irritated him. You actively avoided him. Maybe he wouldn't care if he didn't find you so damn adorable. Thoughts of you kept him company late at night.
Even when he forced you to take a baton after he saw a student get in your face yelling. The only person you used it against was him. Apparently you wouldn't allow him to pull students out of your office regardless of their offense.
He was shocked to learn that few students ever bothered you. The worst offenders would constantly make advances at you and since you would have his head, he disciplined them only once you were out of range.
And you were equally irate. He treated you like a child when you tried to present him with research that aggression towards children under the age of 18 was just as detrimental as ignoring their bad behavior. You weren't against addressing the students inappropriate behavior, but the number of visits to your office had tripled upon his arrival.
It become rare that schools had a nurse on campus, barely coming back in to practice following the hands off policy. And at the most part you were mainly treating the faculty and the more unlucky students. If the Ministry of Education wanted to bring in people like Na, would you even have a job much longer?
/
"What are you doing here? I'm not harboring any students," You hissed as the warden entered your office.
"If I remember correctly, I'm here to oversee the whole school. That includes you. Besides I actually need medical help."
Hwajin turned the lock on the door before unbuttoning his shirt. He turned around to show you a shallow hole between his shoulder blades. You tried to keep the blush from creeping on to your face as you scanned his muscular body.
Apparently a student surprised him by sinking a pencil into his skin.
"Violence breeds violence," You chided when the realization hit. "Oh god, did you kill the student?"
You were truly alarmed. He took slight offense to that question. He wasn't a great guy but he wasn't going to kill someone on the job.
"Just give me something to bandage this up," he rolled his eyes.
You motioned for him to sit on the medical table but of course he had to make things difficult, choosing to straddle a chair instead. In spite of his protests that he could take care of things himself you pulled on a pair of gloves.
"Don't be such a pain, Mr. Na. There's no way you can properly clean what's on your back."
You probed around the wound that was already angry and red. The blood has begun to dry. Trying not to cause unnecessary pain you attempted to visually assess the bed of the wound for any debris that may lead to infection.
Instinctively he howled in pain as you began to clean.
"Will you just put a bandaid over it so I can get back to my job?"
You had to admit you were getting some sick satisfaction from this. The wound was clean and you applied an anti bacterial ointment but it was in a location where the skin tended to pull and stretch so you were sure it would bleed throughout the day-
"Are you smoking in my office?"
Hwajin gave you a cheeky grin before blowing smoke toward your face.
The nerve. In retaliation you flicked the inflamed skin while avoiding the actual wound.
"Ouch, you're cute when you get angry," Na laughed.
Your cheeks were scorching, "Okay Mr Na, you're all wrapped up. Stop by at the end of the day so I can change the bandage."
He winked while buttoning up shirt, "I knew you liked seeing me."
"Out." You hissed.
As he walked down the halls he chuckled to himself. He couldn't wait for you to submit to him.
/
Through out the day your mind wandered to Hwajin. Him sitting in front of you, shirtless and rippled with muscle. The parts of his skin left unscarred were so soft compared to his attitude. You wondered if his palms were as soft or were they were rough and calloused.
As if on cue the man walked into your office, catching you during one of your fantasies. Was it already the end of the day? Sure enough, the clock showed school let out half an hour ago.
Just like before he secured the door and stripped off his shirt. The bandage wasn't soaked, but it did need to be changed. The day warped your work and some of the tape was lifted away from his skin.
This time politely in the chair, he hummed as you removed and replaced the soiled bandage.
"Starting tomorrow you should just leave it open to air. This is really just to keep you getting your blood on your shirt. If you start thinking you have an infection go to the hospital." You turned around to discard your gloves.
As you turned back, you bumped into Hwajin Na. He smiled down at you and ruffled your hair, "Thanks, nurse, you took such good care of me. You'll have to let me thank you."
He lowered his mouth to your whisper in your ear, "what should I do for you?"
Your were in a losing position, you didn't want to make eye contact but you couldn't stare straight ahead, he still wasn't dressed and it was too overwhelming. You settled on looking down toward his feet.
You quickly snapped your eyes back up when you notice a bulge trying to push past his pants.
"Uh, no need to thank me. It's my job." You stepped back against the wall, at least giving you a bit more space.
Hwajin placed his arms against the wall so he could close the space between you.
"What's wrong? You're flushed. Let's see if you have a fever." He pressed forehead against your. "You feel a bit warm, but not worrisome."
You stammered, "Uh, Mr Na, it's late so we should probably wrap up."
"Mr Na," he mocked you. "Why do you do that? We're both adults, you can call me Hwajin."
Your eyes darted around the room. Maybe you were being punked. Was he testing you?
"It's respectful, it would be rude to call you by your first name."
He brushed a stand of hair behind your shoulder, pleased with your response.
"Well I can think of other titles you could call me that I would enjoy much more."
You were struggling between your desire and your fear of losing your job. Surely he knew what he was doing to you.
Of course he knew, the gleam in his eyes made that clear.
"Well, it's pretty late and I don't know about you but I'm tired after today so I'll see you tomorrow."
He dropped his hands and you took that as the end of his teasing. But instead he hoisted you against him, grasping the back of your thighs.
"My poor little nurse, I've kept you so busy. How about you lay down and let me help you relax."
"Hwajin, put me down," You smacked his shoulder. Listening, he sat you down the cot you constantly sanitized. In spite of what you were saying you allowed him to crawl on top of you.
"Hmm, now you use my first name, little nurse? And here I thought you were respectful," he nipped at your ears.
You shivered.
"Well pick one," You groaned. "First, no last name, then no first name. What's left."
His tongue darted across your neck while began tearing at your clothes, "how about you just be a good girl and call me 'Sir'."
At this point the primal part of your brain took over as you pathetically began to rub against his thigh. Your Irrational brain didn't need a job, it just needed this man to fuck her.
Nearly all your clothes were discarded to the floor as his mouth began to tease your breasts. Your hand tangled in his hair when sink his teeth into your tender flesh.
"Talk to me baby," he sighed. "Use your words, ask for what you want."
You lay out a whimper and tugged at belt loops, "fuck me."
He pinched your in thigh, "Now that's not using your manners. Am I going to need to teach you to behave?"
You mumbled a response that he could barely hear, eliciting another pinch to your thigh.
You huffed, "fine, please fuck me, Sir"
Pleased with your response he tugged your panties to the side, stroking your soaked pussy with his middle knuckle.
"Atta girl. You're so fucking wet for me. How long have you been waiting to be my little slut?"
He slid one finger inside of you with ease, arching you back as moved inside you. You were trying to fumble at his the button of his pants but he pushed your hands off him.
With a growl he removed his hands and your underwear from your body, "Not yet, although I'm flattered how desperate you are for me. Turn over, ass in the air, show me what's mine."
You were happy to obey, sliding into one of your favorite positions.
"You're not be very nice, sir," You teased. "You could at least remove your pants."
His hands came down hard on your ass causing you to cry out in pain and pleasure.
"Watch what you say, unless you like being disciplined. You already know I don't tolerate disobedience. And as much as enjoy your screams, don't forget that just because school is over doesn't mean everyone is gone."
You bite your tongue as he spanked you again. He certainly wasn't holding back. But he was right, there were after school clubs and some teachers stayed as late as 8. His fingers found their way inside your warmth again, fluid dripping from your aching cunt. You had adjust to his rhythm of spanking when his fingers were at their deepest. You felt so close to release. When he withdrew from you yet again.
You let out a frustrated groan until his hand made firm contact with your pussy. Once, twice, three times produce a wet spanking sound. You couldn't hold in your tears, thankful you were a glutton for pain.
"You still with me, princess?" He cooed, getting off the bed. You nodded. "Good girl, hold that position for me just a bit longer."
You nodded again, words evading your mind. You appreciated the coolness produced by the cot. Hwajin repositioned the pillow that had fallen on the floor and removed his belt.
Standing next to you on the bed he finally directed you into another position. He helped you stand, barefoot on the linoleum floor. You were held against his chest as you gathered your bearings.
He nuzzled against your hair, "I'm not a gentle man, if you need to stop at any time you say so okay. And that's an order. Can you do that for me princess?"
You told him you would as he helped you sink your knees to the pillow. He ruffled your hair again, telling you how good you looked. Finally he unzipped his pants, his erect dick right in front of you.
"Look at me."
You complied, tearing your ways away from his cock.
"If you want my dick then prove it. Open up that pretty mouth of yours."
He grabbed you by the hair, guiding your lips his shiny tip. Your tongue circled around him, admiring his taste. You weren't usually self conscious but you couldn't help but be nervous you'd disappoint him. As you began wrap your lips around him, Hwajin inhaled sharply. He gave your hair a gentle tug.
"Eyes on me. Good. You're doing so well. All the way to the base, baby."
You were almost there when there was a knock at your door. Hwajin kept his grip firm on you, instead of allowing you to pull back he shoved his throbbing dick down your throat and began fucking your mouth while putting a finger to his lips. He was smirking like the devil. Your throat constricting in protest.
"Excuse me, nurse," one of the school kids called. Knocking again.
"Fuck," Na muttered as he released into your mouth. Tears spilled over your eyes as you struggled to swallow.
The nock persisted, "hellooo? Come on I need to pick up a physical form."
"She's busy, fuck off."
As the footsteps faded down the hall Na released you from his grasp. He couldn't help but laugh at you when you pouted up at him, your were glistening and your cheeks were rosy and puffy. God, next time he swore he would take a photo of you on your knees after sucking his dick.
"Really, you had to open up your loud mouth," You whined. "You could've just pretended no one was here."
He shrugged in response, helping you off the floor.
This time on the cot you were both undressed. Hwajin sucked and bite on your neck. You nudged him off telling him he was gonna leave a mark.
"You're telling me I can't mark up my little whore?"
"Just not where students can see."
That was fair enough, there were other places he'd rather leave bruises. Between your thighs. Your stomach. Your breasts. Proof that he had made you his.
He wouldn't bite too rough, not want to scare you off. He planned on making more of these moments with you. You were better in person. Exceeding his late night fantasies.
Finally he began to slide his cock inside you, your pussy searing with pleasure at his size. It was a struggle to control the volume of your moans.
"Does my little slut like that? You want me to stuff you?"
"Please," You cried, needing more or his touch. "Please don't stop, Sir. Please let me cum on your dick."
Hwajin began to pound harder into your tight pussy, admiring how your body reacted to the sheer force of him. Each time he snapped his hips against you, your lush breasts, along with the rest of your body, followed with an intoxicating jiggle.
You were exactly what he needed and he wished to consume you. His mind flashed to images of you tied up and exposed for him, placing all of your trust in him. Or he could snap a pretty collar around your neck and tie you to the bed with a leash, you would be begging him to fuck you like a bitch.
"Tell me need me," he growled. "That no one else can fuck you into submission and make you dumb with pleasure. Your mine and I don't share."
Tears rushed down your face as a mixture of pain and desire burst the pressure in your core. You clenched around him, babbling what he instructed you to and meaning every word.
The tightness of your orgasm shocked both you and Hwajin. Paired along with your heat pushed the man past his limit, releasing his thick cum inside of you. Even through the near blinding pleasure of his own release Hwajin felt a moment of worry, he hadn't meant to pour himself inside of you, he was fully aware he wasn't wearing protect and had gotten your consent.
Between your gasps and moans you were were repeating a breathy thank you. Unless he had died and gone to Heaven You were actually begging him for more of his seed. Crying out that you needed him to stuff you full. The man nearly confessed his love for you on the spot.
However he maintained his composure. Pressing closer to you and guiding you through the high of your orgasm.
He combed his fingers through your hair, whispering praises and reassurance. Telling you to relax into him, he wasn't going anywhere. Finally your grip on him relaxed as a gluttonous smile graced your lips.
Na propped himself up next to you with his elbow. His other hand cupping your face.
You looked at Hwajin, "This doesn't mean I'm going to ignore your behavior towards the students."
"You know, seeing you protective over a bunch of snot nosed punks makes me want to fuck you until your nine months pregnant. It would keep you out of my hair while you were stuck waddling around home safe and sound. Win-win."
You gawked at him. Joking that you had yet to see any paternal instincts from him.
"I am actually great with children so long as their raised right. Like hell I'd let my kids turn out like these delinquents."
The two of you bantered back and forth while re-dressing. It was dark by the time you exited the school. Na was lighting a cigarette the minute he was past the schools threshold. You began to tell him goodnight where the two of you should naturally part ways but Hwajin caught you by the wrist, a confused expression thrown your way.
“Where do you think you're going? I'm not done with you yet," he said, cigarette hanging from his mouth. You were about to respond when he cut you off. "Round two will be so much better in my bed. You'll be lucky if You leave my place in time for work tomorrow. But we should probably feed you first. I gotta take care of my little nurse."
589 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Fugitive (Finding Home), Pt. 1
Karl Heisenberg x Reader
Warnings: strong language, Resident Evil-esque violence and descriptions of gore, and dark/sexual themes
Summary: A once-in-a-lifetime trip turned dark. You're quickly exposed to the sinister and mysterious world of a cursed village under the control of dark leaders. How long will you last and will you ever return home in one piece?
Backpacking through Eastern Europe was not a top priority on your “to do” list. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Being one to preplan everything, you were completely caught off guard when your roommate sprung the idea of the trip out of the blue. You roommate, Jezebel Haine, was your first and only roommate from college onward. All legs, she was one of the stars of the track team but was most certainly not one of the brightest shining ones. She was considerably dim-witted, fanatical, and had a booming over-the-top personality that scared every potential boyfriend who had the disservice of meeting her. There were times, though, that she was rather endearing. Her childlike sense of self and emotional drivers consistently put her at a crossroads between what everyone else was doing and what she should be doing; she was, and always will be, a follower.
After four years of becoming “the bestest of friends,” you had a hard time imagining such a hard shift either into another roommate or living alone. Plus, her parents funded most everything she did and, in turn, funded the apartment the two of you shared.
“It’s an amazing opportunity!” She insisted, waving her hands in a simple manner as she rose from the condensed cushion of the leather-clad couch. “Think about it.” Gathering your hands in hers like a 20’s actress who had just met the man of her dreams, she pulled the bundle to her chest. “We frolic through the European countryside, it’s golden hour. My skin looks absolutely gorgeous… yours too, of course. The sun is just about to set, but alas!” She let out a dramatic gasp, removing one of her hands to cover her mouth. “It’s growing dark out!”
“That’s what happens when the sun sets.” You noted, causing her to drop the act for a moment only to immediately go back into character.
“We hear the crunching of leaves and twigs all around us as if something…” she drew close and lowered her voice to a whisper, “sinister is coming. Out of no where we’re ambushed! By what, I’m not sure. Then,” her eyes became glassy as she lay a delicate hand to her forehead, “two absolute studs… and I’m talking big bulging muscles, gorgeous trendy hair, captivating eyes… really everything a simple girl could ask for… seemingly drop from the sky! We’re saved!” She throws your hands into the air as if they’d fall like confetti. Drawing both her arms in, she sways back and forth in a waltz of one. “We’d be married by the next day! Hell, maybe we’d even end up as princesses.”
Oh, how utterly wrong she was.
“I told you this was a stupid idea.” You groaned, haughtily holding your chin up while feeling your spirits low. A few miles back, on an asphalt road that quickly turned to dirt, sat the dingy red rental truck with a blown out engine and a deflating tire. With no cell service and the last town being over 100 miles back, your only choice was to walk.
“Don’t blame me!” Jezebel stopped walking, feet falling flat to the ground as she stomped her foot in a childish manner. “I,” her lip quivered as all the anger held in her body dissipated, “I just wanted to have a fun time with you.” Big tears flowed from her eyes quickly after finishing her proclamation, leaving smearing black lines down her face from the eyeliner she insisted was necessary in the Romanian countryside. God, if her parents weren’t funding this trip, you’d throw a fit for your money back.
“Jess, just,” reaching backward, you fished a rag from your backpack, “don’t cry. That’s not going to make this better.” Sniffling, she accepted the rag and wiped her eyes, further smearing black all over her face. You couldn’t help but feel a shred of sympathy for her. “Let’s just keep going. No use in wasting daylight. I really don’t want to get caught out here in the dark.”
“Where are we supposed to go, then?”
“I’m sure the next town will have some sort of inn or hotel. At the very least, they’ll have directions to the nearest city.”
After another five miles of walking, the sun was beginning to set and no gorgeous studs were waiting to save you. The blazing yellow ball inched slowly beyond the horizon. Its warming rays that had kept the snow from freezing the two of you in the day crept down below the snow peaked mountains that were nestled in the distance. Shadows began dancing between the trees, sending the forest into a theater of silent performers. The dirt road that was once large enough for two cars was now only a walking path so slim that Jezebel had to follow on your heels. Every now and again you were reeled back by the piece of rope that she had attached to your backpack that was firmly gripped in her hand. She claimed it made her feel safer.
“You think those two hunks are going to come save us now?” You joked, attempting to make light of this dark situation.
“I wish.” She huffed, frustration evading her voice as exhaustion took center stage.
Flickering light caught your eye. Hues of yellow and red mingled together in the distance, the outlines of rooftops and smoke-filled chimneys littered the ground below. “I think that’s a village.”
Another mile of downhill travel was all it took to reach the place where the once distant flickering of torches and lanterns grew into the quiet streets of a cluttered settlement. There was no clear indication of movement once you stepped foot in the village; the only evidence of any life came in the form of fresh boot prints, livestock, and the ever-blazing lanterns. Jezebel was all to happy to release your makeshift leash from her fingers, trotting mindlessly by to examine the street corners and homes. Your eyes continued wandering up the rooftops, finally landing upon the eerie looming castle situated on the mountainside above.
From around the bend, you heard Jezebel screech.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You threw caution to the wind, quickly rounding the corner to scold her like a parent would to a misbehaving child. “You don’t know if these people are violent or not. We can’t just go parading ourselves into the town center.”
“I think they’re violent.” She mustered the shaky words. Her hands covered her eyes and the majority of her face as she backed away from whatever had caused her distress.
“What?” The unpleasant squelch of snow beneath your feet caused your attention to draw downward. Dark snow surrounded your boot, an unnatural red hue stained the pure white. Gaze moving upward, your chest restricted feeling as if it had crushed inward on itself. The putrid smell finally fell upon your nostrils as you backed away from the scene. Severed animal heads hung lazily above you, their tongues flopping from their opened mouths.
“I want to go home.” Jezebel sobbed, rasping her cries into her cupped hand. Shaking her head as if to knock this moment from her brain, her short-lived façade of curiosity gave way to her immediate feeling of impending dread.
“That’s what I’m trying to do right now, Jess. Just, calm down.”
A low grumble had you standing further on edge, if that was possible at this point. The sound was clear as day and was anything but human. You weren’t even sure a human could get to an octave so low without the help of technology. Eyes darting upward once more, a chill ran from your shoulders to your toes.
Hauntingly yellowed eyes lingered upon the two of you. The beast-like figure was silhouetted by the moonlight, outlined like a ghost. It looked to be a man, but also anything but a man in the same sense. Its mouth was parted, baring old rotted teeth that looked to have dried blood caked between its gums. Its hands were bloodied as well, small cuts were painted across its forearms only hidden by the rags that clung to its chest.
Before you could process the situation, Jezebel let out another yelp. In an instant, the beast lunged down from its perch, landing with a ground shaking thud nearly five feet before you. “No!” Jezebel’s open palm collided with the space between your shoulder blades as she pushed you toward the monster. The last thing you saw was her backpack falling to the ground as she began running toward one of the homes. You landed face-first in the snow, groaning as all the air in your lungs were forced out. The beast snarled, once again showing its teeth as it hunched down to your level. This was, most certainly, not the way you envisioned dying. Things like this weren’t supposed to exist; this is myth, this isn’t real. It all felt like bad dream gone worse that you couldn’t wake from.
“Pesky creatures, aren’t they?” A new voice called out as the horrendous sound of metal crushing bone and muscle slithered through your ears. The disgusting feeling of gore instantly trickled down your hands. “Please,” the voice continued, “feel free to thank me anytime.”
A moment later, the stranger let out a scoff with the squishy suction of whatever he had used to quiet the monster. The tap of a boot on your elbow finally prompted you to uncover your eyes. “Or don’t.”
“I,” you started, opening and closing your mouth multiple times unable to find the right words, “thank you.”
“Oh.” He tiled the stiff rim of his frayed hat back, exposing a pair of circular sunglasses perched upon his nose. “Foreigners, eh?”
“Yeah, um.” You gathered yourself, finally pushing up to stand on your feet. “We got lost.”
“And ended up here, no doubt.” A stifled chuckle left his lips as he tilted his hat back in place and swung whatever he used to kill the beast over his shoulder. “If I were you, I’d get the hell out of here.”
Without another word, the stranger sauntered off with a backward wave of his hand. “Oh, and have someone clean this mess up.”
“Y/n!” Jezebel’s shrill voice called as she returned with a rather confused villager. He held a shotgun with both of his hands, Jezebel shone a flashlight in your eyes.
“Are you okay?” The villager moved forward with extreme caution after peering around you dumbfoundedly seeing the crumpled body.
“I’m fine, no thanks to her.” You spat, anger swelling in your throat causing a particular acidity to your words.
“All of you! Inside this instant.” A matronly holler came from behind Jezebel and the villager. “You know Miranda’s protection only runs so far as we grow closer to this time.”
Who is Miranda and, more importantly, who was the man who saved you?
The home you were ushered into was on the outskirts of town. It was one of the larger estates given the fact that some people seemed to live in one-room shacks. Upon entering, you were greeted with the warm glow of yellow light trickling in from what looked to be a formal living room. The sweet aromas of honeyed tea wafted through the air, drawing further in as the woman led the three of you deeper into the home. What was worse? You pondered. Being killed by that beast or potentially being murdered by the inhabitants of this home? You couldn’t decide. Thus far, the two gave no indication of malice.
“Please, sit.” The woman pulled out two of the chairs at her table, the wood scratching against the floor. “I’ll fetch the tea.”
Jezebel was so brainless. She smiled at you as if she hadn’t just offered you up as a midnight snack. Surely there was no hamster running on that squeaky track that powered her.
“What was that thing?” You turned to the man who was now seated to your right. “The monster.”
The man ignored your question, instead grabbing a piece of rounded bread from the plate at the center of table. Slathering butter on it, he looked to you. “How’d you kill it?”
“I didn’t.” You frowned, recalling the mysterious man who saved your life without even dropping his name. The villager raised his brows and kicked his foot up on the table. He was waiting for more information. “Some man came out of nowhere. He had some hammer-like weapon.”
As soon as he processed the words, his foot fell from the table and he leaned forward, uncomfortably close. You could smell the distinguishable bite of alcohol percolate from his lips. “Did he wear glasses? A hat?”
“He did.” The words slowly drifted from your mouth. “Hair to about here.” You motioned to the halfway point of your neck.
“Adelina,” the man called, presumably to the woman who guided you inside. He got up quickly, rushing to the other room leaving you and Jezebel alone.
“What the hell is going on here?” You whispered in a harsh tone, leaning forward to get closer to her. “Is this not weird at all to you?”
“I think they’re nice people.” Jezebel responded at full volume without a second of thought.
“That’s coming from someone who tried to feed their supposed best friend to a monster.”
“I was buying us time to get help.”
“Help? I almost died!”
“But you didn’t.”
“When we get back to the U.S. I never want to speak to you again.” You seethed. How could she be this bad? You knew there were a few… a considerable amount of screws missing from Jezebel, but how in God’s green earth does she justify her actions at this point? The thought of it accompanied by her dazed and empty stare only fueled the fire of anger more.
“Dear,” the woman, who you now knew was Adelina, reentered the room accompanied by the man with a tray of cups and a kettle in her hands. She set a delicate china glass in front of you, softly filling it with a reddish colored liquid that she assured you was Celestial Seasonings, a tea imported from Africa. “I hear that you’ve met Lord Heisenberg.” Placing a hand over her heart, she gave a warm smile that only sent another wave of dread through your body. There was something so alluring about this woman, yet so sinister.
“Lord, who?”
Adelina stiffened, craning her neck to the side as she plastered a forced smile upon her lips once more. You had upset her, that much was obvious. “One of the four Lords that rule here alongside our dear Mother Miranda.” She explained, pushing the cup of tea closer to your body. Jezebel had already finished her first glass. Warily, you lifted the cup in your hand and allowed the warm water to heat your frozen body. An elongated finger pointed to the framed painting that hung to the wall. “Mother Miranda protects us here.”
Mother Miranda. You could only focus on the image of the woman silhouetted by six black wings and a halo outlining her head. Her eyes were indistinguishable behind the raven-like mask that clung to her face. Adorned in a black garb, she looked to be a holy figure in this town. But like Adelina, something just wasn’t right with Miranda.
The unsettling reverb of crickets and cicadas chirping grew louder and louder with each passing hour. You counted the seconds between waves of mass chorus; so far, it was roughly thirty seconds between each bleating scream of their nightly tune. You couldn’t sleep. Despite the somewhat comforting, but entirely unsettling welcome given by Adelina and Marion, you couldn’t help but feel like a caged animal in the tiny cupboard room they had given you. A curious thought tickled the back of your mind, willing you to remain as alert as possible after an exhausting day of hiking; where had they put Jezebel? Not that you particularly cared at this point. After the attack she had done a 180, dropping all suspicion of malice in this village. She simply flushed the pictures of hanging heads and wild beasts from her memory. You sometimes envied her lackadaisical memory accompanied by a fanatical view of the world. Living blissfully ignorant, especially in a situation like this, seemed to serve her best.
After a small dinner of fish that smelled of ammonia, of which you politely picked at, Adelina insisted the two of you stay the night. “The beasts will return!” She exclaimed, holding a firm hand over the intricately carved wood of the doorframe. “Early tomorrow we can arrange for a car to pick you up from the next town over.” Hushed murmurs climbing up from the cracked floors pulled you from your thought. The voices spoke in an incomprehensible argument.
“I’d quite like to keep...” the words faded in and out.
“No, no, no. Don’t be ridiculous...”
“What if....”
The floor spoke a soft squeak from beneath your feet as you shifted to get closer to the voices. Their conversation stopped, and you waited with bated breath for it to continue.
“We have to offer someone up tomorrow.” It was Adelina.
“I know, I know.” Marion sounded frustrated. “But you know Mother Miranda prefers only the purest. How are we supposed to know if either of them are-”?
The words faded once more as the two moved from room to room. Walking on the sides of your feet, you followed. Peeking around the corner, your eyes landed on Adelina and Marion illuminated by a flickering fire. They stood close to one another, keeping their tones low.
“Clearly, we offer the frumpy one. Take a look at her. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s unexperienced.” Adelina snickered, taking a seat on the worn couch with her back to you. “She wouldn’t fit in here anyway.”
“The dumb one would get along nicely with our son.”
“I agree.”
A knock at the front door sent a shiver of adrenaline down your spine. Quickly scrambling to hide, you took in a deep breath as Marion passed by with his shotgun in hand. From the parted door, you could see the sun barely peeking over the horizon. Had it really been that long already?
“Are you sure she’s pure?” The new man stood in the doorway rushed past Marion, looking in the direction of the room they had put you in.
“I suppose we could check.” Adelina called, rising to join the others. “The both of them had that tea. They shouldn’t wake until the ceremony later today.”
“Is she in there?”
“Yes, the other one is upstairs.”
“Let’s check this one first.”
With heavy footsteps falling upon the rotting floorboards of the somewhat dilapidated home, you slunk further into the shadows of the room behind you. The glint of something metal caught your attention; a small handgun sat perfectly on a dresser as if set there intentionally for you to find. Holding your breath, you crept forward to it. You’d never shot a gun in your life, but you knew the basics... both hands, check for ammo, rack the slide, pull the trigger. At least, that’s what the movies told you.
“Out of bed so soon, are we?” The soft voice turned malevolent as Adelina appeared in the doorway of the room. “I wouldn’t use that if I were you.” She motioned to the gun that was aimed rather unskillfully for her chest.
“What the fuck is going on in this village?” You spoke with purpose now, tone wavering slightly as Marion stepped behind his wife.
“You don’t understand things around here, girl.” Adelina spat, moving aside as Marion began charging into the room. The loud blast of the gun echoed from the walls of the home followed by a harsh curse and the sound of a body crumpling to the floor. You had shot Marion in the leg; he’d live.
“No,” you started, re-racking the slide as Adelina’s other friend approached wielding a similar gun to your own. Adrenaline washed over your nervous system, your hands shook violently, but you attempted to remain composed. “You’re the one who doesn’t understand. This isn’t normal! Tell me what’s going on now or,” your eyes trailed down to Marion who was attempting to control the flow of blood from his wound.
“You wouldn’t.” She laughed bitterly.
“Like hell, I wouldn’t.” You exclaimed, training the gun onto her. “Now tell me, what’s happening here.”
“You’ll understand soon enough.” Adelina’s friend’s words were the last thing you heard before your ears rang and the sting of a bullet burnt white hot in your shoulder. You weren’t sure if your gun ever went off again.
Despite being tied, bathed, dressed, and currently sitting on a freezing alter-of-sorts, you still hadn’t the slightest clue as to what was going on. A crowd of villagers surrounded from the south, all carrying on with a rumble of conversation. Adelina shot daggers at you, Marion as well, from a small, inclined hill at the edge of the crowd. The clothes you wore were your own, she had fished through your backpack claiming that it was of no use to waste a nice dress on “someone like her.” Jezebel was likely still fast asleep at their house.
A woman with the likeness of the framed photo you had seen appeared out of nowhere. So, this was the famous Mother Miranda that everyone regarded so deeply. She stood before you as the crowd’s voices hushed and their eyes became hazed with looks of admiration and devoted appreciation. Surely, she was a human, deities and gods didn’t exist in a physical form, you assured yourself.
Without a word, Miranda moved gracefully as if flowing across the ground to stand before Adelina. Taking her face between her hands, she whispered what you assumed to be praise as Adelina’s lips moved rapidly thanking Miranda. She then moved to Marion and grazed her hand against the wound on his thigh, speaking of how his steadfast devotion would quickly heal any injuries of cruelty spread by evil. When her attention finally fell back to you, she frowned. Stalking around you in circles, Miranda’s imposing figure made you want to shrivel to nothingness.
“Thank you.” She turned to the villagers as if to dismiss them. “When the time comes, I will return for another.”
The black wings you had seen in the photo sprouted from her back, shielding your sight of the villagers as they retreated to their homes. Hopeful cries and shouted blessings to Miranda echoed from the crowd as the village gate slammed. The only evidence of them once populating this empty square were flowers and offerings of fruit and grain left for the supposed goddess.
The world swiftly darkened once more.
Part 2 - Paths Meet
I promise there's more Heisenberg in the next part..
Feedback is always appreciated
#karl heisenberg#heisenberg x reader#karl heisenburg x reader#resident evil village#resident evil heisenberg#re8 heisenberg#heisenberg imagine#lord heisenberg
553 notes
·
View notes
Note
can you write a oneshot with wolfstars daughter dating george
Here you go bestie<33 thank u for requesting!!
As a wolfstar shipper and a George girl myself😌, I hope you like this bestie<33
Pairings: Sirius x Remus, George x Fem! Reader
Warnings: some homophobia at the beginning, teasing Sirius Black lmaooo
Word Count: 2.4k
“You want a future with me?”
“Hello dear” you turned around and saw one of your fathers, “Dad!” you jumped and hugged him, you just got off the Hogwarts express, this would be your last summer break since you’re going to be seventh year the next time you step at Hogwarts.
“How’s my baby girl?” He looked at you as you broke the hug, you smiled at the sight of him “Doing great, where’s dad?” you looked around while he picked up your trunk, “Here!” you heard the voice of your other father and your heart jumped out of joy when you saw him, you ran to him and hugged him too.
“Here’s a chocolate for our princess” he handed you a bar of chocolate, “Remus! You ruined my moment with her, you should show up at the exit, not here, you’re ruining my quality time with our daughter!” suddenly Sirius was having a tantrum, not likely a tantrum actually, he was just whining.
“No” Remus answered and looked away while he bit into his own chocolate bar. You laughed at them, “Stop acting like kids” you said and linked your arms to theirs.
“Excuse us?” They both said in unison and looked at you, their forehead creasing that made you laugh even more.
“You may” you nodded while closing your eyes and your parents just looked at each other, and it seemed like they were blaming the other one as to why you are so sarcastic.
“Let’s just go home” you dragged them by the arms since theirs are still linked to yours. You giggled as you saw Sirius not even struggling while carrying your trunk and at the same time being dragged by his daughter, and giggled even more when you saw your other dad who was just eating his chocolate quietly while observing the surroundings.
You three were just like a happy family, parents picking up their child that came from a boarding school, if it weren’t just the ugly looks the people gave you.
It seems like Sirius was also bothered by how people looked at the three of you, seriously? Can’t they just manage their own business.
Remus on the other hand was like used to it, he didn’t show any bothered expression, he didn't want to feed their satisfaction. That is something you got from him, that’s why you just let the people be, but of course, Sirius being Sirius.
He removed his arms from your link and grabbed Remus' face and took a bite from the chocolate that was centimeters away from his lips-being that he was eating it, your eyes widened registering how did that happen so fast, your jaw dropped, and a smile slowly formed in your lips as you saw Remus turning scarlet.
“Gross” you removed your arm that was around Remus’ and walked past them, your smile didn’t left your lips as you see mixed reactions from the crowd at the station, some were smiling, some were confused, some were probably uncomfortable, and of course, the people who were obvious to be insulted or disgusted.
Needless to say, Sirius is your father, so you flicked those people who looked openly disgusted by them, they were sneering, frowning, and rolling their eyes.
“Fuck off git” you mouthed as you walk, turning to them while your middle fingers were greeting them.
“Good job princess” Sirius laughed and high fived you as you three arrived at the front of number 12 Grimmauld Place, you weren’t sure what was the good job for, is it for flicking those people off or for successfully apparating, you decided to shrug it off and just viewed the house, it was your father’s ancestral home, it was filled by terrible memories of his childhood but with you three living there, it was all buried deep down.
You unconsciously stared at the beautiful house that was concealed in the muggles eyes. You felt nostalgic seeing your dads walking towards the door, memories from your childhood appeared in front of you.
A girl in a yellow flowy dress, around the age of four, was running towards two men with their arms open wide, expecting that the little girl would run to them instead of the other, but what they didn’t expect was the little girl would run straight to the space between them and both hug them from the necks.
The little girl was giggling while her dads were teary eyed, that’s when they realized, she never had favorites, if she had the choice to not choose, she wouldn’t.
“Y/N?” Remus called you from the doorstep, his head was cocking from the door. “Oh!” you ran to the door “call me before dinner yeah?” you told Remus as you removed your shoes. You raised your gaze to him with flashing eyes and maintained eye contact, waiting for his answer.
“Alright” he replied to you, you felt sudden joy not even sure why but it did make you kiss him on the cheek. “Thanks!, Love you dad!” you shouted as you ran towards the stairs,
“HOW ABOUT ME?!” you heard Sirius who was probably at the kitchen doing Merlin knows what, “I LOVE YOU TOO!” you yelled while you ran the stairway.
“YOU BETTER BE NOT PREGNANT WITH THAT WEASLEY BOY’S CHILD Y/N!” Remus’ voice echoed and you laughed and stopped from entering your room and peeked down while holding at the stair rails.
“DON’T WORRY, I’M NOT PREGNANT!” you shouted back and you heard his sigh of relief, “YET!” you added and sprinted to your room and closed the door.
You heard both of their voices shouting your name. You cackle while heading to your study table, your room was cozy, it was filled with different drawings you made when you were a child, there was your very first black leather jacket that Sirius gave you before he bought you a bicycle, it was hanging from a corner, properly displayed, he was expecting you to like motorbikes like he did, and you did, you like riding motorbikes.
There was also your very first hair accessories that Remus bought for you, hair pins, hair clips, headbands, and many more. He was the one who likes to tidy you up, even before you make yourself dirty by running and riding the bike. Of course Remus struggled but thankfully, Lily did teach him a few hairstyles when they were teenagers, and the rest of his knowledge came from going to different hair salons just to ask how to style his daughter’s hair.
An owl bumped on your window that made your brows raise and shift your head to that direction.
“Errol?” you said the name of the owl and he dropped a letter to your hand before he headed to your table and lay down, acting very exhausted, of course to your utter panic you immediately got water and placed it in front of him. You sighed as he drank through the container, enough for him to drink.
While he relaxed you opened the letter.
Hello beautiful,
I’ll arrive there at six, see you.
Your husband,
George
You bit your lower lip and smiled, then you forgot, you haven’t told your dads yet. Without wasting any time, you apparated to the kitchen.
“Hey” you voice lingered behind their backs and they jumped, they turned their heads to you with wide eyes, “You don’t do that here” Sirius said while holding his chest, “I almost had a heart attack” he glared at you while you just tried to not laugh,
“You’re just getting old dad” you stated that made him glare at you more, Remus smiled very very sweetly at you, trying to bribe you to not say it “and you too” you smiled back, looking at their sour faces.
“Enough” Remus raised both of his hands and shaked it, trying to shoo you. “I was about to say that George’s arriving at si-” you didn’t have the chance to finish your sentence when someone knocked at the door.
“I’ll get it” you announced, you three were quite tensed as to who might be at the door, you weren’t expecting visitors this early, it wasn't 6 o'clock yet.
You opened the door, ready to run back to the kitchen if something goes wrong, but what greeted who was something-or someone, who had a mischievous smile, his red hair shining because of the sun, and his brown eyes gleaming at you.
“Hello dove” his smile became wider as he caught the perfect view of his girlfriend, her Y/H/C hair complimenting her skin, the eyes that were obviously shocked to see him, and the smile that slowly formed on her soft lips.
“George!” you mentioned his name when you processed who was standing in front of you, he gave you a peck on the lips before he grabbed your waist and pushed you carefully to the side so he can walk, “hello Sirs” he cleared his throat and rubbed both of his hand on his pants before giving your fathers a hand shake.
This would probably be their very first ‘formal’ meeting, they already met each other at Hogwarts, during the Triwizard tournament, but that wasn’t formal enough, unlike now.
George was scratching the back of his neck and was being really nervous, you just surveyed them, and when you noticed something it was too late because your mouth opened before you can even think twice
“Dad, you’re the smallest” you told Sirius that made the three of them look at you, firstly George was shaking his head slightly, trying to tell you that it was not the right time, then Remus was also looking at you, he was trying his best to cross his brows but you can see the ghost of smile that was in his face, on the other hand, Sirius was there shooting daggers at you with his eyes like you’re not his child, then he slowly looked at Remus and George.
George was obviously the tallest, but only an inch taller than Remus, while Sirius, he’s just not a six footer.
“I-uh come George let’s prepare the table” even though it was still early, you reached for George’s hand, still feeling the stares of your father, you wanted to laugh, so hard, but he might not buy you your favorite cereal, so you chose to suck it up.
“Why’d you do that?” George started talking as you fetched his wand and used it to prepare the table using magic, “it was my mouth’s fault, anyway, you told me you're arriving at six, it's not six yet” you answered and watched the floating plates and utensils.
“I was trying my best not to laugh dove, please don’t do that again in front of your parents, I might lose goodie points, and I meant six minutes not six o'clock” he chuckled as he hugged you from the back, wrapping his arms around your waist and laying his chin on the top of your head.
“Even if you lose goodie points, I’ll still love you don’t worry” you faced him and cupped his face, his face that was always as perfect, those freckles that can make a constellation, his eyes that you would prefer to look at rather than the stars, and his hair that would always stand out.
It was like a magnetic pull, your faces was slowly getting nearer and nearer, almost there, the finish line, his lips onto yours, inches turned to an inch, heartbeats getting fast, and you can feel his breath, then his soft lips was supposed to be next
Not until someone cleared their throat that made you push George out of reflex.
“No snogging in this house, you understand that angel?” Sirius crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows, “Yes dad” you replied, slightly embarrassed so you chose to continue to prepare the table while George can’t maintain eye contact with you or anyone in the room.
“Sorry dad” you walked to Sirius who was still in the entrance of the kitchen, surprisingly he smiled at you, “Yeah that’s for bullying me” he wrapped his arms over your shoulder “But about that almost kiss? I’m not mad don’t worry, we all kiss someone at some time” he added like it was just common sense for him to not get mad.
“I love you” you said out of the blue while you two watched Remus and George laughing at the dinner table, you rested your head on his chest, “I love you more princess” you felt him kiss the top of your head.
“Just walk with the boy outside while we clean here alright?” Remus looked at you and George, he tapped George’s shoulder before he turned his back to the both of you and be with Sirius who was still drinking wine at the table.
“Come on” George called you and touched your back to guide you, your eyes were still looking at your parents, mesmerized by their strong bond.
“Georgie?” you tried to get his attention while you two walked the dim lighted streets, only the flickering lamp posts and the moon were the sources of light.
“Hmm?” he was busy playing your hand, touching every bit of it, and even comparing it to his. “You think we would be like them?” you stopped on your tracks, feeling the night summer breeze brushing your skin, "Like who love?" He stared at you, now holding your hand firmly, "Sirius and Remus" you answered and tucked the few strands of hair that was bothering your face because of the wind, you looked at his eyes and saw amusement and adoration all over it.
“You’re asking me that?” a lopsided smile appeared on his face, you nodded slightly as an answer, “You’re thinking of marrying me?” he asked you again, now giving a full smile, you nodded again, “You," he pointed to you "want a future with me?” he pointed to himself, his eyes smiling the same as his lips, you nodded again, oblivious of how that made George’s inner monologues that was doubting what would happen with the both of you disappear, because who wouldn’t, you’re Y/N, raised by two amazing people, you’re beautiful, intelligent, bold, and many more that he would even consider you as perfect.
And you’re here, saying that you wanted a future with him.
Now, with the moon smiling at the both of you, the stars being your cheerleaders, your lips met, you hooked your arms around his neck while he cups your face with one hand and the other holding your waist.
At this night, two teenagers shared a kiss under a lamp post, during the summer of 1995.
#george weasley#george fabian weasley#george weasley fic#george weasley x reader#Sirius Black#Remus Lupin#weasley twins#remus x sirius#dad Sirius#dad remus#wolfstar#lgbtq#harry potter boys
565 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
ghousworld
Untitled
sparklymouse
sparklymouse illustration
tiny-bby-kai
♡Tiny Baby Kai♡
purple-affair
Purple Affair
tlkl4
El rincón de Tiki