#gres rose

[astronomicaltaxon]

you ever hear a bell coming from nowhere

#:o] #homestuck #hs #homestuck art #hs art #rose lalonde #lalonde #homestuck rose #grimdark #grimdark rose #th!$ w∆$ ∆ $tudy th∆t d!dnt g° gre∆t #b & w !$ rly fun t° me$$ ∆r°und !n th°

[judeswhore]

yess just snuggling on the sun loungers even though it’s too warm and stealing little kisses when u think ur friends aren’t paying attention

i need to be his summer gf soooo bad, also this is kinda inspired by this post

the second you settled onto the lounger beside jude he was tugging your legs over his lap, the arm closest to you rising to rest against the back of the seat, his other lying heavily over your legs. he patted your hip once, eyes dropping to the drink you were holding and raised his eyebrows.

“that’s like the fifth cocktail i’ve seen you with.” he pointed out, an amused tilt to the corner of his lips. you could only shrug in reply and tipped the straw towards his mouth in an offering. while he sipped at the fruity drink you tried to press in closer to him, unbothered by the heat as you felt his bare skin against your own. you practically stuck against him but he looked so irresistible you couldn’t bring yourself to care about being uncomfortable.

jude had discarded his shirt, in fact you’d warn it for the most part of the day but now it was tucked away in your beach bag, the sun much too hot for any layers. his bare chest was sinfully inviting, already glowing from the sun, shoulders and biceps so broad and big you had found it difficult concentrating whenever you’d looked at him. pair that with the fact his shorts hung so low you could see the peak of his calvin’s and your mind was in overdrive, filthy thoughts filling your head every time you got a glimpse.

“it’s bottomless, i’m gonna drink them dry.” you told him as you took your own sip. he only hummed in light acknowledgment, the palm of his hand smoothing over the bare skin of your thigh. despite being surrounded by your friends and countless people who had been taking pictures all afternoon, jude had no qualms about touching you, his levels of pda only seeming to have increased.

“i’m gonna be mad if i have to carry you back to our room.”

“i’m too pretty for you to get mad at me.” you teased, attempting to hide your grin by sucking the straw back between your lips. jude cocked his head and raised his brows, slipped his hand a little further up your thigh. his fingers grazed the curve of your ass and goosebumps rose in their wake, heat pooling in your tummy.

“oh yeah?”

“uh huh and i’m wearing your favourite bikini. makes it even harder for you.” your words had jude’s eyes dropping down, gaze raking over your somewhat exposed boobs. you’d specifically chosen an overly small bikini with the intent of winding your boyfriend up, knowing full well he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands to himself whenever he saw you. it had worked well so far. heat flickered behind his eyes and you felt his attention like soft fingers across your skin. you purposely pressed your chest out a little further and jude let out a soft laugh.

“it definitely makes something hard for me.” he gave a quick squeeze to your ass before letting his palm brush back down your thigh. knee to ass and back, a repeated motion that was both loving and teasing at once. the comment made you roll your eyes and his reply was a soft pinch to your hip. “don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“don’t be a perv then.”

“oh, you wanna play that game, babe?” he asked, a cocky edge to his voice.

jude’s lips tipped into a smirk and he pulled you closer until you were almost nose to nose. his eyes had that teasing glint and you were trying not to laugh before he’d even said anything. the arm he’d had over the back of the lounger falling to hook around your waist and settle on your hip furthest from his body.

“who’s the one that sat on the bathroom counter all morning to watch me shower? hm? and hid my clothes just so she could see me in a towel? and who’s the one that begged me to leave my shirt in the room so she could eye me like a piece of meat? oh and let’s not forget about how many times you’ve slapped my arse today.” you were giggling behind your straw, shrugging your shoulders innocently as his smile grew, a breathy laugh trickling from his own lips at your feigned innocence. “and don’t think i haven’t seen you staring at my dick all afternoon so don’t give me all that perv bullshit when you’re the biggest one i’ve ever met.”

“i can’t help that it’s always staring at me.” you mumbled, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. his smile got a little wider in response. “you should wear better shorts.” you kissed the other side, sliding your free hand over the warm skin of his shoulder and then down his bicep.

“and ruin your day? i’d be an awful boyfriend.” jude teased, hand skirting back up your thigh and over your ass. the tips of his fingers slipped beneath the tiny string of your bikini bottoms and he toyed with the material. “you’d die of deprivation after the first hour.” you were peppering kisses over his jaw and his words wavered a little when you sunk your teeth playfully into his skin, sucked a mark when you knew you really shouldn’t.

“i wouldn’t even last the hour.” jude laughed at that and turned his head to press his mouth firmly over yours. he kissed you soft and slow, a gentle caress of his lips over yours at first before he was tilting his head and deepening the kiss. you gave a quiet moan that he eagerly swallowed, his palm sliding halfway up your spine to hold you against him. his other hand was still resting on the curve of your ass and you knew he was itching to let it wander into more inappropriate places.

“fuck sake, d’you two have to keep doing that?” you’re not sure which of jude’s friends that had come from, their words mocking behind their groan. almost in sync, lips parting reluctantly, you and jude flipped your middle fingers at the group, your boyfriend easily catching the pillow that had been lobbed your way before it could hit you in the face.

there was an unamused glower on his face at being interrupted and so you kissed his cheek, pressed the straw of your cocktail against his lips. his gaze met yours again as he sucked and you cocked your head towards the ocean.

“y’wanna go for a swim?”

#jude bellingham #hey jude :) #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham one shot #leigh’s baby blurbs #sinclaiirs baby blurbs

[ivorryskies]

Can I request Dazai x fem!reader in an arrange marriage??? Also a Royal AU?

I think id be a very cute oneshot!

Tysm

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷prompt: All the pretty stars shine for you my love, am I that girl you dream of? all those times I said that I'm your girl, you make me feel like your whole world. -pretty when you cry

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷pairings: Dazai x fem!reader royal au

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷warnings: royal problems that's it.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Felix's note: OMG! ofcourse, I love this request so much thank you for this, sorry if its a little long I got carried away also can you recognize one of the Enola Holmes reference?. pink hearts divider by: @cafekitsune <3

"hello Prince....?" you were standing next to a small boy after your parents told you you'll be spending a lot of time together.

"Dazai, and you are...? princess?"

" 'name' " you smiled reaching out to shake his hand. Your parents and Dazais Father smiled at you two and continued to carry on their conversation at the table. As you two talked to eachother at your own table. Due to the issues between 2 of the most prosperous nation, both the children were given in the marriage of one another. It was for diplomatic reasons.

⋇⊶⊰❣⊱⊷⋇

And that is how you ended up right now. As the two of you gre older your parents forced you together. Dazai's father training him to take the throne and you were forced to learn all the rules and regulations. "please, leave" you said annoyed, your parents were throwing you two an engagement ball in Dazais nation and he was here to pick you. You didn't mean to lash out on him but you've been learning since morning about your duties and how to run a nation all the while keeping within the lines.

You heard him sigh and leave as your stylist shut the door, to get ready. You stood on the platform and she picked some items of clothing for you. It wasn't that you didn't like Dazai, he was a charming prince who every commoner to royalty liked but you couldn't express or find the words to what you were feeling.

"oof" you huffed as the stylist tied your corset. You went to the dressing table to get everything done and after an hour you were ready. You exited the dressing room to be greeted by Dazai standing beside your door waiting. "you waited?" you asked a bit surprised. "Would rather stay here than out". He said looking at you like you were the most beautiful pearl in the ocean. He had thought about it. He didn't mind being engaged to you at all but he knew that you hated it. You weren't mean to him per say but agitated at the things you were forced to do.

"well then what are you waiting for? shall we go?" you asked and walked past him to open the door. You both walked the halls and all of the servants stared in awe at you two. You looking like a majestic angel and he a celestial being in his formal attire. He stopped in his tracks and you looked behind at him and raised a brow in a questioning look. He took out a white rose and put it in your hair. "well, thank you" you gave him a half smile while he returned it with a genuine smile "anything for my lady". You cringed at that "oh shut up". You two continued to walk to the car.

⋇⊶⊰❣⊱⊷⋇

You reached the ball and heard the people saying how good you two looked, how some ladies and dutchess envied you. You two sat on the thrones next to your parents. As the ceremony commenced you couldn't help but look at Dazai and how he talked to people, how he acted and the little to no details you noticed about him. You wanted to be independent, to rule on your own if not for the stupid deal, you thought he was going to slow you down, but you cant help but feel attached to him, ofcourse he didn't have to know anytime sooner, or...as you planned?

Something made you ick at the Dutchess of your own state talked to Dazai, twirling her hair, laughing, fluttering her fan, and then in the end you saw her and Dazai leaving together in a room...wait IN A ROOM?! That's when you drew the line. Yes you were in denial about loving him and you didn't like the forcible engagement but he was still ENGAGED to you.

You stood up and began to walk to the room and opened the door to see the two talking. "Dear Fiance please tell me where the restroom is in your palace" it came off a bit passive aggressive but ok. . She looked at you and then spoke to Dazai "please sir, i've been meaning to talk to you". He says "perhaps another time i do share your interest" as he left the room to lead you to the bathroom. "your seeing the dutchess??". You said abit agitated.

"shes gone she was flustered. It's okay she wanted to discuss diplomatic relations." You rolled you eyes. "i'm telling you really i have no eyes for anyone but-". You went deep into thought zoning out not hearing what he says. He said something about the reason he gives you gifts or something before you tapped out remembering the first time you met. When your parents signed your life away. When you felt him grab your arm.

"Did you understand what i said?". "YES. you were saying that you..." you stopped to think remembering the times he did stuff for you, When Dazai comforted you after harsh lessons, when he brought you gifts. He looked at you with a serious expression. "It means I love you, now we must return outside Father is looking for me bu-". You interrupted "yes we must return we have much to talk about my dear dear lord you love me, and it appears i love you to" You looked at him with a soft smile. He smiled, not a smirk like usual, a genuine smile as he closed the gap between you two kissing you softly for real.

A Happily Ever After. <3

#bsd imagine #bsd #bsd scenarios #bungo stray dogs #dazai x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai osamu #bsd dazai #dazai imagine #mafia dazai x reader #bsd imagines #bsd x reader

[ikilledjoffery]

I wanna see your version of what would happen after Aemond returned home after killing Lucerys if he had kids. I have seen other bloggers do it and they just sucked

3.8k words

“Father has returned!” Your eldest son stood in the large window he had managed to climb into the sil of, his face lit up at the sight of his fathers large dragon even in the rain he could tell Vhagar from any other dragon. 

“That’s good news, I told you he would be back as swiftly as he left.” With a smile you rose off the ground to lift your younger son up where his brother stood. As you held him up you turned your head to spot your new son asleep in his crib. 

“Mother, may we greet him?” Aerys stood and looked eye to eye with you as he held your sleeve, the change in pressure made Rhaegar turn his head to look at his brother. 

“Allow me to speak to him first and then you may do so.” You wanted your sons to do as they wished but you knew that Aemond may have carried heavy news. When Aemond had such news he did not wish to be bothered, he would need to process and rethink in order to move forward with his day. 

“Deal.” Aerys bent his knees much farther than he needed to to jump down from the window. All the same Rhaegar, who followed his brother everywhere he went, turned to face you wanting down. 

“Nanny?” You raised your voice slightly in order to gain her attention, you always allowed her to stay close enough to the children that they felt they could trust her but you raised your children closer than any of the other mothers in the castle. 

The woman came through the door to greet the children, giving them small nods and a wave as he neared the three of you who were upright. 

“I will return.” With a ruffle of your oldest son's hair you made your way out of your room. On your way to find Aemond you pulled a blanket from the clean laundry one of the maids was carrying. The rain had to make him cold and the castle was not much warmer, you knew it would be kind to offer him something warm. 

“Aemond?” You spotted him as he handed his trench coat to one of the workers in the castle,  his back faced you as you approached. 

“Where are the children?” Aemond whipped around as he looked frantically at you and all around where you stood. 

“With the nanny? Why? Have one of them done something? How did your council with Lord Baratheon go?” You asked your questions quickly as he grabbed your arm and encouraged you to walk back to where you had just been. 

“Do not leave them with anyone.” He spit his words viciously at you, his grip on your arm that was void of the blanket you planned to give him he continued to drag you. 

“My apologies husband, I only wished to assure that they would not be a bother to you.” Something about the way Aemond was acting so emotionally scared you. This behavior also made you assume that the meeting with the Baratheon Lord had not gone according to Aemond’s predictions. 

“Mm.” Aemond made a small noise as he released you to burst through the doors where his children had been enjoying their rainy day inside. 

“My prince, my princess.” The nanny bowed, but before she could move out of the way to leave Aemond rushed to her. He grabbed her by the arm and slung her as far as he could towards the open doors. 

“Aemond!” You shouted, your oldest son rose from where he sat on the floor and guided his brother to stand closer to the crib placed at the edge of the room. 

Ignoring your words he continued to rush her, out of fear she crawled to stand and sprinted away as he slammed the doors shut. He took one of the daggers that sat on his belt and stuck it in between the door handles so that no one could break in. Aemond then took it upon himself to rush over to the window your children had first spotted him at yanking the curtains to close making a majority of the light in the room disappear. Had he been any rougher with them they would have come off of the hinges. 

“It’s alright Rhaegar.” Aerys spoke to his brother as he knew his brother had a great fear of darkness of any kind. You turned to see your oldest son giving the younger one a hug as he began to cry. 

“Aemond! What is the meaning of this?” With the same viciousness he had shown everyone since his thunderous return you raced across the room to speak with him. “You are scaring the children.” 

“I am protecting the children.” He whispered as he looked over to his sons cowered in the corner. 

“From what? What has happened?” You too kept your voice low as the two of you stood close in proximity not wanting the sons who would ask questions to hear you.

“We will all sleep here tonight, tomorrow I will hold council with my brother, grandsire, and mother. None of you are to leave this room.” He raised his voice to speak to the room before walking away from you to grab a torch so that he could light candles around the room. 

“Oh Aemond.” You knew he had done something horrid, he acted severely abnormal and had ignored the same question over and over without even caring to snap knowing that that would prolong the entire situation. 

Before you could go to comfort either of your sons who had been so brave in the odd moment the youngest began to wail from his crib. “It’s alright Helyrs” You scooped him up into your arms and held him against your chest as he cried. 

“Mother, what’s happened?” Aerys with Rhaegar directly behind him walked up to you almost stepping on your dress at their closeness. 

“Your father wishes us safe, this is how he sees it fit, he knows more of the situation than us so it is best to mind him on this.” Kneeling and readjusting your son in your arms you spoke to the young boys as the room lit up a bit more from Aemond finishing lighting candles. 

Aemond felt sick watching Helyrs cling to your dress’s collar, your free hand placed on Aerys face, and your gentle look that went between he and Rhaegar. Even worse was the way you explained his behavior so seamlessly without knowing what was going on yourself.

“My sweetest sons, all will be well there is no reason to harbor fear.” You briefly looked at their father who stood completely still with the lit torch watching your conversation.You put a gentle hand on Rhaegar’s arm guiding him to stand next to his brother, but he immediately chose to run into your arms and pulled his brother with him. 

“Your mother speaks the truth, all will be well tomorrow but tonight we must take caution.” Aemond stalked over the four of you on the ground with some guilt in his eyes, today had been a day of accidents. Aerys and Rhaegar had lifted their heads to look at their father then to you after he was done speaking to see what you thought to which you nodded in agreement with what your husband had said. 

“We will share chambers tonight, it shall be fun.” You emphasized the word fun and gave them the best smile you could, the feelings inside of your stomach would not be allowed out, not in front of them. “Go play.” You released them and sat Helyrs on the ground next to where they sat. 

You rose from the ground only to almost run directly into Aemond as he stood incredibly close to you. The blanket you had gotten him discarded on the floor where you sat. 

“I give you my thanks, my intentions were not to terrify the children.” He whispered, his hand sat on your cheek as he spoke. 

“Twas not just the children whom you terrified Aemond. I and the nanny were not exactly fearless.” You allowed his hand to stay where it resided, fighting him further as he was already on edge would not end well to your knowledge. 

“I did not intend to frighten you either, an accident has occurred and how it will be handled has not yet been determined.” Aemond looked down at you and watched as you went to take in a breath of air to speak to which he cut you off, “But I can assure you every caution possible is being taken to ensure that no harm will come to any of you or myself.” 

You had no choice but to trust him, if you didn’t you could be putting yourself or your sons in danger. Furthermore, you could be putting all of you in danger if you did not listen to Aemond. Though Aemond could be cruel and selfish it would be against his oaths he took with you to harm any of the four of you. And if you could trust any of the Hightower-Targaryens to keep their word it would be Aemond, as he knew better than anyone that a word is like a debt, it must be paid honestly. 

“I pray that the words you speak are honest and that the resolution is as easy as you seek it.” You placed a hand on his face and let your finger brush over the underside of his scar.

“You have my word.” Aemond leaned his head down to kiss your temple as your sons talked amongst themselves. Aerys and Rhaegar had figures that they used to pretend war was happening on the floor, Aerys also tried to involve Helrys who would randomly pick up pieces of their older brother's toys. 

“What game are we into boys?” Aemond slowly released you and walked behind you as you reapproached your sons. 

“War. I am the black soldiers, he is the brown.” Aerys spoke excitedly to his father as he always did, “Helyrs is the dragon, whom fights for neither side of this war.” 

“Mm. Current victor?” Aemond got on the floor with his sons as he looked between both of them. 

“The dragon.” Rhaegar spoke with a sour tone in his voice as his younger brother picked another soldier from Rhaegar's army laughing and giggling as he did so. 

“What if the dragon is briefly distracted?” You spoke getting down on the ground behind Helyrs you looked passed him at your sons who showed you their smiles. 

“Impossible! These little men would have to sacrifice themselves to do such a feat, then one army would be out many men.” Aerys stated to you as you slowly progressed toward your youngest son who was swinging his arm around with a brown soldier in his grasp. 

“Who said those men had to do it? What about another dragon?” Aerys snapped his head towards his father who he assumed was to be the dragon. 

“I suppose that would work.” He spoke to his father but before his father could explain that he had only intended on watching the game you pulled Helyrs back into your lap and began to poke at his sides making him laugh. The boys took the advantage and began to play out their game. You held your giggly son and watched as Aemond gave advice to each of them seriously and then not so much as it was just a game. Plus he was never allowed to pick sides unless you had the other and currently you were occupied. 

By the time they had finished Rhaegar had won, the dragon never escaped the other, and Aerys had a bunch of fallen soldiers in front of him. Both boys had tired themselves out playing gods over armies of men with so much energy. You applauded Aemond mentally for helping and allowing the rest of the night to continue normally. Though something you couldn’t help but believe that the underlying guilt he looked to have aided in doing so. That night your prince slept next to you, as did Aerys and Rhaegar whilst Helyrs slept in his own crib. 

“Mother.” Aerys whiserped snuggled in your arms the same way small children snuggled their blankets. 

“Aerys?” You answered him as you kept your eyes shut encouraging him to go back to sleep. You could feel Aemond asleep next to you as his chest moved slowly, and you could see Rhaegar asleep on the other side of his brother. 

“I cannot sleep.” He wrapped his arms around your neck and laid his head further into your chest. 

“What troubles you my love?” Placing three quick kisses into his hairline you held him back tighter than you had before. 

“Tomorrow scares me and the longer the night progresses the closer tomorrow becomes.” Aerys allowed his panic to release itself. 

“It’s okay to be afraid, but do trust that your father would never allow anything to happen to you and neither would I. Just as we would do the same for your brothers and one another. You have a brave family that does not fall easily. All will end well.” You could feel Aerys nod his head and then bury it to get comfortable again. 

“Princess?” A guard knocked at the door to where you had all been kept, Aemond had been out for quite a while at the meeting he chose to hold, his mother had seemed incredibly furious with him when she had first seen him. Her eyes had shown you sympathy before she turned on her heels leading the way for Aemond to follow. 

“How may I help you?” You spoke through the door as Aemond had requested you do, he had told you that a guard would stand watch at the door and let you know what the standing of the council was. 

“Prince Aemond Targaryen has requested Prince Aerys Targaryen to join him at this time in council for experience.” Something about that sent a shiver down your spine, Aemond always wished to show his sons what the court was like but this felt wrong. 

“Why now? Why did he not let him follow this morn?” You questioned as your son had perked up from his studies at the mention of his name. 

“Twas too dangerous, he now sees the threat has lessened and wishes to have his son by his side.” The guard stuck to his original request and added more context all the same. 

“Aerys, come.” You gently called your son over, he shut his book, and walked to you. “Your father wishes to have you at this time during court, I know how it bores you, but he only wishes to teach you.” 

“Mother, I don’t want to leave you. What if danger still lurks? Father and I have trained a bit, I could be of help to you.” Aerys begged to stay holding onto your hands as he did so. 

“My first born love, how you never cease to fill my heart with proudness, admiration, and love. I promise you that if danger arises I can protect myself and your brothers. If it becomes out of my hands I will call for you and your father to fight for this family. Be patient with your father and with his court, try and pay attention.” You moved small baby hairs off his forehead pressing kisses against it as you finished speaking. 

“I love you mother.” Aerys whispered, the feeling of fear in his gut not leaving him. 

“I love you more my son.” You took the wooden piece that had replaced your husband's dagger earlier that day to allow your son to leave. But before he left he gave you a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. 

Hours had passed since your son had left and even more since you had seen your husband. You decided that to calm your nerves you would read to the youngest of your sons, allowing Rhaegar to read pages of his choosing, helping him with words that gave him confusion. Of course Helyrs did not read but he was content listening to the two of you speak quietly. You were not sure how much time had passed before the door opened again, you saw Aemond step through it. 

“How was the meeting?” You immediately rose from your seat, both of your other children asleep in the bed. 

“All is solved, there was a sudden resolution.” Aemond seemed shocked at this but as he looked around the room he noticed something missing. “Where is Aerys?”

You felt sick, like you had eaten something bad, your stomach churned at his question. “What do you mean?” Barely able to raise your voice above a whisper your eyes widened as you saw Aerys did not come through the door and was not standing near Aemond. 

“I am asking you for the location of our son.” With a shaky body you rose from the bed and sprinted towards your husband who stood alone. 

“Aemond, the guard- the guard told me you requested his presence at council.” A sob threatened to break from your throat as you looked up at your husband whose face was now stone. 

“When was this?” Aemond’s voice dropped lower than ever before as he placed two gentle hands on your shoulders.

“Midday.” You began to cry a bit at the idea that he was missing and the issue was just resolved. 

Aemond nodded and pressed your head into his chest as he wrapped his hands around your back. “Aemond-Aemond, where do you think he may be?” You spoke loudly into his chest so that you may be heard.

“I must go look for him while light still comes from the sky.” Aemond pulled you back from him but his hands moved from your back to your arms. 

“Wait, Aemond please, let me come.” He had turned to leave but you grabbed him by his sleeve at his attempt to leave. 

“My love, you must remain here with our other sons or they may wander off all the same.” Aemond was breathing heavily and planted his leg in the direction of the door as he went to leave. You released him and with a single nod he ran out the door. 

Moments later a knock appeared at the same door you had been staring at for only the gods know how long. Almost tripping over yourself you slammed the door into the wall opening it. 

“Hello Y/n, how do you do today? I heard of what happened yesterday.” Helaena’s gentle voice coated your ears as she stepped inside. 

“Helaena, might you do me a favor?” You forgot her words the moment she had said them, all you could think about was your kind sweet boy missing. 

“Of course sister.” She nodded, placing a hand on your shoulder, she could feel your distress. 

“Watch my boys, I must aid everyone in finding Aerys. I cannot wait for news.” You held her shoulders the way you had held Aemonds previously and she just nodded. The second you saw her head move to say yes you kissed her on the cheek and bolted out the door grabbing a torch from beside the door. 

You had wandered outside the castle, you knew that the others would be searching on the direct grounds. While that was helpful simply because that would be the easiest most mapped out place to find him you felt that if that was where he was he would’ve been found by now. Sliding down a hill that had a plant filled path surrounded by trees you met a border where boats would land if they tried to enter Kings Landing secretly. 

“Aerys?” You whispered as you pushed through bushes, not seeing anyone, and holding up your torch to avoid catching the foliage on fire. 

Walking across you took a single step off the path feeling something hard beneath your foot that cracked loudly with all of your weight pressed onto it. You rolled your foot slightly on the object listening to it crackle a bit under you. You took one more step forward but this time to the left avoiding the solid object again. But the sight that hit your eyes sent signals to your body to fall and scream. Your son laid dead, his blood cold on the ground next to him, his eyes wide open, and his body as white as his hair. 

“AEMOND!” Your word was barely enunciated enough to be understood as you screamed from your stomach through your mouth like you had been stabbed. You grabbed at your son’s lifeless body holding his head closer to his body because his throat was almost cleanly split. 

“Aerys.” You wailed again, the dragons could even hear you as you could hear them roar as you did. His head was pressed against your chest, you rocked him back and forth begging him to breathe. Aemond heard you from a while away and began dead sprinting through the thick air of the night.

“No.” Aemond’s voice cracked as he slid down the path you had, guards followed him in tow. 

“My baby, my poor baby.” You screamed and held him with the tightest grip you had ever had as his blood began to get all over your dress. The coldness of his skin felt like stone in your hands. 

“Y/n, my life, my love, please you must release him.” Aemond saw the blood, the pale skin, he had seen death before, and now he was looking at his own kin dead in his wife’s arms because of him.

“NO!” You screamed with your whole heart again whaling, tears of yours covered your son's shoulder as you shoved him even closer to your body. “This can’t be. Please. Aemond please.”  You begged your husband whose hands were now on you. 

“My deepest apologies my wife, but you must release his body from your own.” Aemond placed his hands on your sides and began to tighten his grip on your body. 

“Aemond I can’t, I can’t, this is- he’s my angel, my firstborn love.” You could no longer see anything through the tears in your eyes as you felt your son slipping from your arms. You let out another scream as Aemond peeled you from him, his head was barely hanging onto his neck. 

“Take him.” The guards picked up your son's body as you kicked and screamed against Aemond watching them take your son away. Aemond held you as tightly as you could, he was sure bruises would remain where he had you in his arms. 

“My love, I am sorry.” He put you down and held your arms to the point you could feel his nails through your thick-sleeved dress. 

“Why are you so sorry?” You shouted at him, your eyes twitched as tears continued to make your face swell.

“I killed Lucerys.”

#aemond imagine #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x readeer #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x y/n

[ask-court-genshin]

«FIRST EBG CONCLUDES...»

The "ghost" enters Lumine's room with a hollow expression on his face. The hydro eidolon, Kopi, looked up to him with an alarmed expression.

"Y-You?!?" They gawked. "You're not supposed to be here–"

"Stop the act, I know who you are." Dainsleif half-muttered, tired. "I know it's you...

... Ansy."

...

The hydro eidolon evaporated.

"Aww... That quick?"

In a matter of seconds, all the blue was washed away from the person the twilight sword was conversing with. In front of him stood his spouse, Ansy.

"And here I thought I was doing a relatively decent job, hiding from you," they shrugged. "You know, just like what you've done to me for around 400 years or so."

"Ansy..."

"How did you figure it out?" Ansy cheerfully asked in stark contrast to Dain's unapproving stare. "I'm sure you already have a list in your person."

He clicked his tongue, somewhat insulted by how much his partner knows him before handing out a clean parchment.

"It isn't that hard to deduce, my beloved." Dainsleif snarled.

"Congratulations!" Ansy clapped sarcastically. "Want a medal?"

"But this Lawrence." He gritted his teeth. "Where is he now?"

Ansy snorted.

Ah, right. I forgot I'm a villain, too.

"Dead, of course." They spoke so casually as if a murder confession was not at all concerning. "Dain, he's made of water. You know how pathetically easy it is to kill hydro slimes, right?"

"Am I supposed to be–"

"He's not even a real person." They rolled their eyes. "I created him. Made him up like an eighth grader convincing his friends he has a totally hot girlfriend in Inazuma and she just can't come visit. He doesn't even actually have any consciousness."

"And yet he's still based off a real person."

"Yes, he is." Ansy nodded, sighing in defeat, knowing that their next words is bound to sound disgustingly fragile. "He's based off YOU."

"He's based off how you were back then– how you used to be such a knight who'd act so clumsy whenever we talk to each other."

"Tell me, Dain, why the FUCK would he be blonde with strikingly blue– but not as beautiful as yours– eyes when the real Lawrence is a brunette???"

...

...

"You..." He trailed off, flabbergasted. "I am absolutely astounded. Is this your roundabout way of fessing up that you cannot love another man and therefore had to mold water to my likeness in order to survive a week of EBG?"

Dainsleif covered his mouth with a hand before looking away. They knew from the way his shoulders slightly rose by a hair that he snorted in secret.

"That polaroid picture– was that our masquerade ball last year? Did you just alter it a bit to–"

Ansy coughed, not particularly eager to answer that and boost his ego.

Seems they're both equally obsessed.

"Anyways, I completed my mission." They digressed. "I infiltrated the Astro Network to see what's up and survived an EBG while no one rats me out for my @throwaway-yandere persona. I think I won. No one gave me a strike. I'm the one deserving of a medal for playing 4D chess while everyone does EBG."

Dainsleif sighed audibly loud.

"I'd ask for your forgiveness but I think you deserve this offensive statement: my beloved, you are an idiot."

"A homicidal idiot. I killed two people– three if you count Lawrence."

"Four if you still consider me a ghost."

"We're Khaenri'ahn, we don't die." Ansy laughed. "And quite frankly, you're real to me."

Dainsleif's eyes softened.

"I'm certain this isn't how lovers normally pull pranks on one another."

"Well, you diiiiiid kill me brutally on another timeline, so can't you consider us even here?"

He pulled them close.

"500 mora, and I shall consider the thought."

"Boo, you jerk."

"You're evil, and I'd consider myself a good man for this bargain."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll turn myself in Fontaine's prison soon, don't worry."

"Good. See you in another century." Dainsleif joked in his usual flat tone.

"Oh, and Dain?"

"... I'm afraid to hear what you're about to say."

"I looked at the throwaway account and uh, we now have approximately 3,200 gremlin children...?"

"What. I thought you quit writi–"

"They're signing their own adoption papers it's not my fault–"

"Oh, matters not. Happy 3,200 gremlins, Ansy."

"Hmm hmm! Happy 3.2k!!!"

#:3 #» first ebg #eeeeeeeend scene

[tafferling]

The Lone Wolf of Harran and The Child Screwed By The Narrative

In which Kyle gets kicked in the shin.

>> Chapter Two Update on Ao3 <<

It’d been a long trip down to the base of the valley, full of catching his feet on rocks and roots, avoiding the local nightmares lest he get delayed by a scuffle and (god forbid) tear his good shirt, and a good amount of skepticism over what he was doing. Or why he was doing it at all. Curiosity, he’d told himself, but we all knew that wasn’t even a quarter of the story. Regardless— here he was. Down at the base of the valley (finally) just as dawn broke, bringing with it a whole lot of mist clogging up the landscape. The haze washed out the sky’s colors and did a hell of a job muffling the noise that rose from a cluster of human misery just beyond the rapidly thinning forest. Kyle stopped once he reached the tree line and propped his shoulder against a tall, lichen-covered rock. Yet another origami bird kept his company. It sat atop the rock he’d parked himself at, just at about eye level, and pointed its beak squarely at the refugee camp encroaching on the local scenery. “You want me in there?” The artistically folded paper stared on quietly. As paper should, really. He’d probably squeak if it’d suddenly start talking. Kyle sucked on his bottom lip and idly clicked his tongue. Okay. The refugee camp had grown out from a tiny, tiny village; the sort which had like two farms, one house house and a roadside chapel thrown in for good measure. There were tents everywhere. A cluster of them were plain camping tents in all kinds of colors, but the majority were large and bulky, with their colours designating who’d put them up. Green and square for military. White and round for ECDC. And apocalypse-brand-turquoise for the GRE. Kyle frowned. They’d set up fences around the perimeter, but even so he couldn’t see this going well for very long. The encampment was right out in the open, for one, having no natural choke points to slow a horde if one happened to funnel into the valley, and those fences? They were downright sad. It didn’t make much sense for him that they’d settled here, though then again he probably missed a lot of much needed context. Was it the river going through the valley that’d drawn them here? (Water: good). Had they run out of fuel for their convoy of military vehicles, people movers, and mobile labs and decided eh, here’s a good a place as any? … and what’d it matter to Kyle? “Fine. I’ll take a peek,” he muttered, which prompted the stupid bird to fall in on itself and be burnt to ash by a fire Kyle could neither see, nor smell.

>> Chapter Two Update on Ao3 <<

#Dying Light #Dying Light 2 #Kyle Crane #Aiden Caldwell #Papa Crane #Werewolf!AU #Werewolves #The Lone Wolf of Harran #Chapter Updates

[fickle-tiction]

How about Lois Lane tickling Bruce at the knee?

Could be during an interview or while he's standing around in public?

Ooo I've never written Lois before so I will prob butcher her but it's okay since it's only a 3 sentence thing (have i ever in my life followed the rules for these things?) thanks for the challenge!

~~~

"I'd hold my tongue if I were you, Mr. Wayne." Lois whispered, her hand appearing out of nowhere to slip under his suit jacket and rest on his side, fingers sliding over the silky material of his shirt as they sought out the rich laughter she's heard so much about.

Bruce's left eyebrow rose of its own accord as Lois Lane snuck up behind him while he was teasing Clark and--was she trying to tickle him? It seems Clark's been talking about him to his friends, and Bruce didn't know if he should be flattered or if he should murder him. Unfortunately for him (fortunately for his boyfriend and his best friend) they were at a gala and Bruce had a part to play so his face split into a smile and he squirmed away from the tickling fingers.

"Ms. Lane." Bruce gasped, obnoxious Brucie person coming out to play, lest anyone around them become suspicious. "There was a time I would have loved to have your hands all over me." Lois narrowed her eyes at that, pinching his side hand and causing Bruce to suck in air between his teeth. His eyes were sparkling though, they both knew he deserved that. "But I'm trying out this monogamy thing." He pitched his voice low, as though he didn't want anyone around them to hear such an embarrassing fact.

"Oh?" Lois asked, hands trying to go back in for another strike. Bruce was lazily blocking her attempts, seemingly oblivious to Clark lurking behind him ready to strike. "And how's that working out?"

Lois knew exactly how that was working out. He was stupidly in love with sunshine personified, but he had a reputation to maintain and he couldn't possibly say that in public. "Well, it seems he's been divulging my deepest darkest secrets to reporters, so not gre-HEEEE--Clark!!"

Clark took the opportunity to hug Bruce from behind and tickle quick fingers over his stomach. He had to show Lois how it was really done, where Bruce couldn't control his reactions no matter how hard he tried as he desperately tried to tamp down on his laughter. The people closest to their group were looking on in amusement, and if this wound up in one of the gossip rags Bruce might actually kill him, so Clark let him go after he got a solid laugh out of him. It didn't take long.

#Ask game #ticklish!bruce wayne #ticklish!brucewayne #Lois lane #Clark kent #Superbat #Drabble #Tickling fanfiction #Ler!lois #Lee!bruce #Ler!clark #This was fun

[athenov]

holy I just found your blog and can I just say that as a fan of medieval balkan history + hetalia who thinks it's criminal how this period was barely touched on and that gre & bul have never interacted in canon this blog is a frickin gem. pls if you have any headcanons about these two (could be both separately or on their relationship!) that you haven't talked about already could you share them with us content-starved folks😭

fufyhkjvhdst anon you're making me blush!!!!

most of my headcannons regarding dima and herk will be discussed in basileuousa and dimitar's series (which is still being outlined LMFAO), especially regarding their relationship. heads up for them being. vile to each other lmfao

all they did the first few years of existence is argue. heracles is stubborn and spiteful and dima is also stubborn as rocks and never backs down from challenging herk. results? fights that can be heard clearly all the way to beijing.

but in more sweet notes, although dima and herk have hurt each other, they are capable of being civil to each other. dima has given many gifts to herk (as "peace offerings", in reality they're just little gifts), mostly woodcarvings and roses from his garden. and herk has written ballads and poems dedicated to dima.

in modern times, theyre affable to each other. they work close together and dont mind hanging out (and being purposefully annoying to sadik or miroslav), although there are moments where they bicker like good ol' times. old habits die hard

#vik.txt #asks #hws greece #hws bulgaria #balkantalia #bulgre #aph greece #aph bulgaria #historical hetalia #hetalia #sorry for not indulging further #i would tread in spoiler territory

[pick-your-poison-please]

@thehazbins

Eve walked through the front gates, a large basket of fresh baked bread, a wedge of cheese, and a rose wine. And of course, apple tarts, made from Eve's own orchard where she gre Eden Apples.

She rang the door bell, hoping that her older sister was home. Things have been chaotic for her as of late, and a chat with Lil always put Eve's nerves to rest.

#rp #thehazbins #c: eve #c:lilith #v: hazbin

[thesuntookgoodcareofme]

Getting worse is a part of the process getting worse is a part od the process getting worse is a paty of the process getting rose is a past of the process gettting worse is a paty of yhe provees getting worse is a part of gre peofess getting worse is a aprt ofvyhe process

#getting worse is a part of the profess #getting worse is a patt pf yhe process #getting worse is a paty of the procesg #getting worse is a part of the process

[truths33k3r4]

CHAPTER 8 - Hidden Scars

Raphael raised his hands defensively.

 “ Am I wrong?? ”

Leo dropped his shoulders and bobbed his head at his far-from-sensitive brother. He was still being mindful of the pointed syringe in his hand, but still wanted to show his disapproval of Raph’s comment.

“ Really, Raph? “

His crimson-detailed brother only shrugged, raising his eyebrows. He opened his mouth, most likely about to spout out another hurtful comment, or perhaps a weakly-supported defense, but was interrupted by their youngest brother making his way through the still open doorway of the Med Bay.

“ Yeah, dude. That’s rich hearing YOU complain about someone's fear of needles.”

Raphael’s face instantly changed. His calm relaxed eyes grew wide the tiniest bit, forcing his pupils to constrict. His open mouth closed, hiding the spit he gulped down. His posture became tight as his arms crossed over his plastron, almost like a shield over his prideful, yet sensitive heart.

“ Yeah whatever.. “ Raph mumbled as he rolled his eyes.

Mikey smirked as understanding washed over his face. He immediately recognized the opening for relentless teasing and payback for the MANY times Raph had made fun of him for his phobias.

‘ Time to taste your own medicine, big bro. ‘

“ No please, Raph, tell us all about the times you’ve been SO brave when it came to getting a shot. Tell the whole class! “ Mikey gestured to Leo and Don. ( Probably not Lotus, seeing how she was still….out of commission.)

Raph’s shoulders rose as they dug further into his plastron. 

“ Shut up. “ Raph hissed through gritted teeth.

Unfortunately, Raph’s growing annoyance only fueled Mikey’s thirst for vengeance.

“ Tell us all about the time dad found you hiding in the tv cupboard. “ Mikey was now speaking in a demeaning, baby-like tone, “ Was it because you were scaaaared of a wittle needleeee??? “

Raph’s shoulders now escalated nearly to his ears, as he gritted and bared his sharp teeth. 

He was the only one of his brothers to have fangs, and often used such a trait to scare them when they were kids. They would joke sometimes that when God created Raph, He knew that he would have the temper of a lion, so he gave him teeth to match.

All throughout their childhood Raph would growl, bite, and sometimes even hiss when he was upset or scared. The brothers would call it his “ Feral Mode”.

.. and Mikey was poking the lion like a laughing baboon with a death wish..

“ SHUT UP, MIKEY. “ Raph warned. 

Leo’s posture straightened at the sound of Raph’s growing anger. 

He was unsure as to why the current conversation was causing Raph to get so.. TENSE.. Thanks to his lessons with Sensei, Raphael had actually made lots of progress with his temper. 

..So what’s happening now??

Out of all the brothers, Raph and Leo would fight the most growing up.. So he knew when Raph had reached his breaking point.

… and he was nearly there.

“ Mikey, lay off. We get your point, now drop it. “ Leo was trying with all his might to protect any survivors from the imminent eruption of flame and seething anger about to go off. 

Mikey chose to continue poking, shrugging off Leo’s warning.

“ Nahhhh he’s the tough big brother! Only babies fear things. Right, Raph? Isn’t that what you said to me when we were kids? “ 

Mikey’s voice was only seeped with innocent instigation. There was no poison on his tongue. Not a word was meant to truly HURT. Just.. a little payback now and then was rare. So you take it when you can get it. Afterall, his brothers and him would always tease each other. It never really caused bad blood. Perhaps a playful wrestling match on the ground, but nothing else.

Raph’s hands began to shake.

Mikey didn’t notice.

BUT DON DID.

It all clicked in his brain as to what was happening in his twin’s mind. The same awful memories blazed in his own, like a forest fire fueled by fear. 

Flashes of being chained to the hard floor blinked in and out. The sight of his twin.. being strapped down to a table. 

The eerie glow of green, painful liquid filling his veins-

- the screaming-

Don blinked. He shook his head to rid it of the horrid visions attempting to alter his reality. That’s all bad dreams were.. Just fantasies. Fantasies can’t hurt you.

… But Don knew. He knew what happened to them wasn’t just the bad dreams he was plagued with every time he tried to sleep. 

It was real.

It happened.

He was there in that lab. And so was Raph.

He knew he needed to act fast.

Don’s gaze shot to his unknowing little brother with far more threat than he would’ve liked it to. He walked to the side of Mikey, gripping the youngest’s shoulder with his hand.

“ Mikey..”

His youngest brother turned his head the tiniest bit, still with the same smile on his face. 

Raph turned his face away, as well as his body.

Don saw he wasn’t getting through to his ignorant little brother, so he turned him around using his tightening grip on the youngest’s shoulder.

“ -OW. Don! Ow- what?? “ Mikey nearly shouted, pulling away from Don’s vice of a grip. 

He didn’t mean to hurt Mikey. But that’s what you get when you don’t listen. At least now he’s paying attention.

“ Mikey, please, that’s enough. “ Don stated quickly.

The seriousness in his older brother’s tone mixed with the unrelenting gaze of his eyes, made Mikey instantly question his methods of said payback. His eyes fell to being full of remorse as he gave Don a “ What did I do wrong? “ kind of look.

Don disconnected his gaze on Mikey and walked to go join Raph. Before he reached his twin, he turned around and signed to Mikey,

‘ Mistake. None. Knowledge. No. Raph. Fine. ‘

( You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t know. Raph will be fine. )

Don stopped in front of Raph, and deliberately made it so Leo or Mikey couldn’t tell what he was saying.

Leo noticed how Don didn’t immediately touch Raph, but withheld until after he spoke something. Raph nodded minutely and the two walked out of the Med Bay, Don’s hands guiding his twin’s body out the door.

Mikey barely caught it, but he knew he could see Raph wipe something from his face.

‘ There’s no way.. ‘ Mikey thought. ' What- what did I do to him? ‘

Mikey turned to face Leo, with eyes beginning to fill with tears. 

“ Did…” Mikey squeaked, barely holding his composure; His breaking voice failing to hide his shame, 

 “ .. did I do that to him? “

Leo looked at his youngest brother with just as many questions on his face. His eyes softened as he gave a weak smile.

“.. I don’t….I don’t think so, Mikey. I.. I don’t know what that was about either. “

Leo’s voice overflowed with concern for his brothers. So much had happened in the past 6 days.. So many horrible things.. 

And like the good leader and oldest brother he was supposed to be, he left his brothers to suffer.

ALONE.

Well.. that was fun. :) Enjoy!

To God be the glory!

Masterpost <- PRIOR CHAPTER NEXT CHAPTER ->

#my version of tmnt!! #the strength in weakness #tmnt #tmnt au #tmnt art

[februaryflowers]

strawberry pink

order up: earl gray bubble tea with almond milk and wonwoo for anon!

a fluff romantically interested but not dating yet business/ceo au

check out the carat writers club summer fair event!

warnings: language, kissing, CRINGE AND CHEESE

fluff, 2046 words 🧎, ceo!wonwoo x ceo!reader

a/n: i would like to formally apologize i don’t know what the fuck happened here on multiple fronts 😭

You know the whole office’s eyes are on you as you walk through the room and to the elevator. There’s a je ne sais quoi about you that demands attention, and who are they to deny you that? And maybe there’s an added mystique coming from whatever the fuck is going on with their boss.

It’s no secret that you’ve bewitched him with your essence, your presence. He’s been smiling more, eyes particularly bright and sunny, for a few weeks now, and, especially when you come to visit, there’s a new lightness in the office building. 

And, besides, you are also someone to fear. Your reputation definitely precedes you wherever you go. Someone would have to be living under a rock to not know about how you rose the ranks in the Choi corporation before exponentially increasing its profits and productivity (while giving employees even more benefits and time off, I might add, but people like to forget about that) and then pulling off one of the most ambitious yet profitable mergers in the past few years. And somehow, you still manage to have time in the day. You are very scary.

You nod at the employee running the drink stand next to the elevator before it comes down with a ding. Scanning the card Wonwoo had given you when you met the first time, you take the ride up to the very top of the building.

At the beginning when you’d come visit the office, the stares were ones of intimidation and your meetings were strictly business. But somewhere along the way, the conversations changed, the tone of those conversations changed, and now they are mostly banter and weekly catch-up, making sure Wonwoo takes a break and lets loose with just a sprinkle of work talk.

It’s so painfully obvious that you like each other, and even dense, thick in the head Wonwoo can tell. It’s only a matter of time for one of you to ask the other one out on a formal date. But until then, you’re content with your weekly rendezvous. 

When the doors open, you step out, letting your shoes clack against the tile until you make it to the end of the hallway where Wonwoo’s office sits. 

“Hi, Chan,” you say, giving a polite nod to his secretary.

“Oh, y/n, you might not want to—”

“Don’t worry about it.” 

You smile, a little too brightly for someone who one would expect to be stressed out of their mind, but under your gaze and cool, yet calculating and powerful, nonchalance, Chan bites his lip and returns to his desk. 

Pushing on the door reveals Wonwoo, a phone wedged between his shoulder and his ear as he yaks on about finances and deals to whoever is on the other side of the line. He stares out the window, hoping at least the view will keep him focused. Don’t get him wrong, Wonwoo takes his job very seriously, but dealing with other people’s concealed and insincere motives is his least favorite part of working. He can’t help but let his mind wander to other things he’d rather be doing.

The furrow of his brows brings an amused quirk to your lips before you step in, letting the door shut behind you with a click.

At the noise, Wonwoo turns in the chair and looks up, the crease in his forehead smoothening and his own lips beginning to lift.

“I gotta go,” he mumbles into the phone before popping it into the receiver. 

He stands, coming to take one of your hands and pressing his lips gently to your knuckles like a formality. It’s definitely not good for your health.

“How’s dinner sound?” you ask. “My treat, that call sounded horrible.”

He chuckles before letting out a long sigh from deep within his chest. “Tell me about it.” Meeting your eyes, his nose scrunches with his lips warmly curving upwards. “Dinner sounds great, just give me a minute to pack up.”

You nod as he lets you go, putting files neatly back in their rows in his cabinet before he shuts off his computer and takes a navy blue jacket out of another cupboard. 

Watching as he slides one arm through the woolen material, you gulp, trying to avert your eyes from the way his muscles flex under his button-up. If people think you have your time well managed, you want to know how Wonwoo manages to have time to go to the gym so often. 

You bring your fingers between your eyebrows, gazing down as you start rubbing your forehead. What the fuck? 

Catching Wonwoo’s shoes in your peripheral vision, you drag your eyes from the floor and meet his. 

“Ready to go?” he asks, holding a hand out to you.

“Mmhm,” you hum, not daring to speak and reveal the lump in your throat or how jumpy your head is around him. 

When you place your hand in his, he pulls you close, opening the door and wrapping his arm around your middle. He then nods to Chan, who looks even more mortified than when you left him. 

He sputters, watching as you and Wonwoo leave his vicinity before you look back and shoot him a playful wink. Understanding that his boss is off the clock and there’s nothing that will change that, he bows his head and returns to his seat. With at least Chan’s eyes off of you two—you’re well aware of the rest of the big shots who have offices on the top floor staring at the two of you, on the other hand, but who cares about them—you can bring your attention to Wonwoo, who couldn’t care less. They all know that they could never do their jobs as well as him anyway.

“How about that diner near your place?” Wonwoo hums. “Then I’ll walk you home.”

“That sounds great,” you agree, already salivating at the thought of their milkshakes. 

As the elevator dings and opens its doors, Wonwoo ushers you in, pressing the button for the garage.

“Did you take a car today?” he asks, his mellow voice drowning out the metal gears from above. 

“No, I figured this was how it was gonna go,” you laugh.

“Oh?”

“You’re a little predictable sometimes, Wonwoo,” you chuckle, patting his shoulder affectionately. “It’s been the same dinner then walk to my place pattern for three weeks.”

The buzzing of the elevator is the only sound filling the small space, so after a beat or two of quiet, you look to Wonwoo. His gaze is lowered, on the seam of the door, while his cheeks bloom in color and he bites his lip. He’s cute. 

“Hey,” you start with a murmur, causing him to quirk his head in your direction. “I think it’s cute,” you say with a smirk, pinching his cheek.

He lets out a few laughs before you let your hand down and the doors open. Happiness, it sounds good on him. Happiness with Wonwoo feels different than happiness on your own, a lightness in your chest that makes every step feel like it’s on a cloud. It’s a much needed break from both your lives of stress and work. 

The ride is smooth to the quaint diner. With your eyes on the street lights and your chin in your palm, you watch the whole city speed by. Has it always looked so pretty? Or maybe you’ve learned to make the best of quiet scenes, ones Wonwoo has tried to teach you to take pictures of. But you run the business side of a camera company, not the actual production and craft. 

And god only knows that you can’t look at Wonwoo’s side profile while he drives unless you want your heart to feel like you’ve run a marathon.

“Mmm, the city looks nice tonight,” you murmur. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhm.” You let a beat of silence pass before you continue. “Really nice on the water.”

He chuckles. “Finally learned something from me, huh?” A smile plays on his lips. “About time.”

A teasing smile finds its way to your lips before he parks the car in front of the diner. Its pink neon lights cast a charming film over the cars and the people outside. Hm, perhaps Wonwoo has taught you how to see the world in a beautiful filter.

Holding out his hand to you, he lets his lips quirk to the side as he watches the lights sparkle in your view, as he watches your wide eyes gaze upon the world before you both with a wonder he swears is new. Maybe he’d like to believe that he’s had such an impact on you as well. 

Taking his hand is natural, especially as you walk together into the building and get a booth near the back corner. It feels like this could be a real date, even more so when he squeezes your hand and makes your heart pound.

“Do you know what you want?” he asks, his eyes lowered and scanning through the menu.

“Hm, maybe just some fries and a shake,” you reply back, already familiar with the options and closing the laminated card. “I had a big dinner meeting with the team earlier, couldn’t get out of it.”

“Ah.”

“You?”

He chuckles. “Maybe the fried chicken.”

“You are predictable, very predictable,” you tease.

He pulls the menu up to his face, leaving just his eyes exposed before he mischievously squints at you. “Perhaps, but I have a lot hidden up my sleeves.”

Shaking your head playfully, you call over a waiter, putting in your orders. 

Following a beat of silence after he leaves, Wonwoo stands, letting you use your eyes to follow him. He moves to the jukebox in the very back corner, popping a few coins in the old thing before selecting a song.

You shift to face him, letting your arms rest on the back of the booth seat, and he simply meets your eyes and tilts his head. Are you coming? he silently asks.

Who are you to refuse?

So you giggle as you make your way towards him, letting the gentle melody fill your head and the beautiful man fill your sights. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek once you get close, pulling you in for a hug.

“Have I thanked you yet?” he hums, his chest rumbling comfortably with his voice.

“No? For what?” you ask, stroking his back.

He thinks for a moment. “It’s a lot…more vivid and bright with you around.”

You hope he can’t feel the racing of your heart. “Are you just telling me that because you have more money in your wallet now?” you tease.

To your surprise, he doesn’t laugh, not in the slightest. “No, really.”

But you spot your food coming to the booth, so Wonwoo lets you go.

The meal is quiet as Wonwoo digs in and you let yourself stare outside, thoughts swimming through your mind. 

What is this? What will come from these outings with Wonwoo? What are you doing? 

Realistically, you could have anyone you want in the whole city for company, and yet, here you are. It’s probably the same for him, the bright eyed man across from you.

Turning to face him, you smile when you see he’s stolen your milkshake for a quick drink. He doesn’t notice you at first, taking a big sip of the sweet strawberry until you move your hands to hold the glass.

Blinking with wide eyes, he slowly pans his eyes up from the straw to your face, a dusty pink matching the drink coloring his cheeks like a kid caught in the act. Your smile only grows when you catch a little sticking to his bottom lip.

Your hand has a mind of its own as it cups his jaw, your thumb brushing over the sweetness on his mouth. A ghost of a smile meets his face at your touch. About time, he thinks.

So he brings a hand to trap your wrist, while the other reaches across the table for your chin.

Wonwoo tastes sweeter than the artificial strawberry coating his lips. This kiss is even more delightful than your imagination could’ve made it. And life is definitely more beautiful with Wonwoo in it.

#caratwritersclub #cwcsummerfair #summer fair drabble requests #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo fluff #seventeen wonwoo #mei's #i genuinely don't know what happened 🧎 #mei.svt

[mydivineshadow]

Dum Dum (Dom/Sub) NSFW Fanfic!!! READ ON WATTPAD NOW

You can also search the same title on A03 if you prefer to read your fanfics on there!!

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #cyberpunk phantom liberty #cyberpunk 2077 dum dum #Dum dum cyberpunk #Cyberpunk fanfic #cyberpunk dum dum #Cyberpunk 2077 oc #cyberpunk maelstrom

[liroyalty]

The Kronascres were a family of 8 who fled Old Dracondia after the Calamity that destroyed it, & with them came their 6 dragons. All but two of the royals came to New Dracondia dragonriders, those two would not be able to become dragonriders until later in their lives.

Bohumír, Grandfather of the Family, The First & Only Ever Emperor of Dracondia Scre, rode the dragon Senčnokrilo, Conquering Emperor Dragon

Dalibor I, Father of the Family, The First King of Dracodnia Scre, rode the dragon Aerolon, The King's Wings

Regína I, Mother of the Family, The First Queen of Draconida Scre, rode the she-dragon Nasiluna, The Violent Moon

Anastazija, Eldest Daughter of the Family, The First 1st Princess of Dracondia Scre, rode the she-dragon Valrgon, Queen of All Dragons

Valter I, Eldest Son of the Family, The First Crown Prince & Dragon's Heir, later the Second King of Draconia Scre, rode the dragon Vritrax, The Giant

Nikolaj, Middle Son of the Family, 2nd Prince Who Never Was, rode the she-dragon Rozefyre, The Rose Mother

Gregor, Youngest Son of the Family, 2nd Prince, was originally dragonless but would later tame the dragon Senčnokrilo

Helenana, Youngest Daughter of the Family, 2nd Princess, was originally dragonless but would later hatch the she-dragon Skya

All dragons on Dracondia Scre origin from one of the original '6 Conquering Dragons', as such, they are the most well documented dragons in Dracondia's history.

Senčnokrilo

Senčnokrilo's name in High Dracondian translates to 'Shadowwing', & his rider, Bohumír G. od Kronascre, has be noted to have stated he named his dragon after his appearance. Senčnokrilo is a rare pitch black scaled dragon, with a deep crimson color for his wing membranes & bright yellow eyes. Aside from his rare coloration, he was also known for his large & bold horns atop his head that faced forward upon his head & his towering size, as he still remains to this day, the third largest dragon throughout Dracondia Scre's history. He was also covered in many scars & his wings would come to have holes in them later in life, as Senčnokrilo was an often presence during the wars to conquer the landmass in the name of the Kronascres. No other dragon fought in as many battles as Senčnokrilo, making he & his rider legends & revered figures in Dracondia's history. So much so that the royal family made it illegal to ever have another dragon, or another man, named Senčnokrilo or Bohumír. Many spin off names have been made instead to honor these two legends, which is deemed acceptable. After the death of his first rider, Senčnokrilo would go on to be tamed one last time, by Bohumír's youngest grandson, Prince Gregor A. od Kronascre, who had no dragon of his own, as his died as a still growing dragonet during the Calamity that destroyed Old Dracondia. They supposedly formed a bond through their shared pain of losing someone beloved. Senčnokrilo would later die shortly after his second rider Gregor, at a surprisingly young 140 years old.

Aerolon

Aerolon was the mount of the first king to establish & rule Dracondia Scre, Dalibor T. od Kronascre I. He was known to be green colored, with a slightly lighter green being present on his wing membranes, purple eyes & a white color being present on his underside & around his horns. Unlike Senčnokrilo, Aerolon was a younger & smaller dragon, making him swifter & more agile. Despite this, he still have great participation in the wars to conquer the landmass for the Kronascres. It was his frame that was used as reference to make the shape of of the sigil of the Royal House Kronascre, a dragon with six wings with a crown embedded in it's heart. Aerolon would have up to five riders over his lifetime, but only the First King was his truly noteworthy one. He lived a long life of a full 214 years, the longest lifespan of any of the 6 Conquering Dragons.

Nasiluna

Nasiluna's name was the combination of the words 'violent' & 'moon' in High Dracondian('nasilna' & 'luna'). She was a dragon with a grey scale coloration, with blue along her wing membrances, tail webbing & veins along her neck. Her eyes were also a bright blue & she boasted tall white horns along her head & around her wings.This she-dragon was the mount of the first queen to establish & rule Dracondia Scre, Regína V. od Kronascre I, & was like Senčnokrilo, in that she was already an older dragon(older then Senčnokrilo actually) when she was forced to flee her home of Old Dracondia & set out conquering what would become Dracondia Scre. She was also like Senčnokrilo & his rider, in that Nasiluna & Regína saw the most battle out of all other dragons, in which Nasiluna was second runner to Senčnokrilo. Despite this, Nasiluna was not a large dragon, but instead is one of the few dragons throughout Dracondian history to breath blue fire. Supposedly, while flying over the sea searching for a new home after fleeing Old Dracondia, Regína gave birth to her final child, Helenana, on Nasiluna's back. Nasiluna would not go on to bond with any other rider after Regína's death, & was only ever to have known to laid two dragon eggs in her entire life, which ended at 166 years old.

Valrgon

Valrgon was the mount of the First 1st Princess of Dracondia Scre, Anastazija L. od Kronascre. Her coloration was a vidid scarlet red, with pink wing & tails membranes, orange eyes & black horns along her face, neck & stomach. The she-dragon was named after a god of Old Dracondia, & was also present for when the Kronascre's fled the ruining country, & was most likely also flew with the young toddler Gregor on her back, after the young boy's own dragonet was killed in the calamity. While Valrgon did see some action on the battlefield, she was more of a beloved pet of Anastazija's rather then a weapon of war, & the same would be said for the next 3 riders who would tame her. For this, she would eventually grow to be one of the 3 largest dragons in Dracondian history, sitting comfortably at number 2. Instead of fighting wars, Valrgon instead was the mother of most dragons on Dracondia Scre, as she mad mulitpule mates over her years, including Senčnokrilo, Aerolon & the sole male dragon offspring of Rozefyre. Valrgon would have a few riders in her lifetime, but would eventually die at 197 years old. Having given birth to the most dragon offspring & most current day dragons coming from her broodline, she is called the 'Queen of All Dragons'. Current day dragons, such as Rdečlord & Xokat are descendants of Valrgon's broodline, most likely from her mateship with the dragon Aerolon.

Vritrax

Vritrax was the dragon of the First Crown Prince, the First Dragon Heir & the Second King of Dracondia Scre, Valter A. od Kronascre. He had a brillant gold coloration, with a slightly lighter shade of yellow on his underside & wing membranes. Like most of the other male dragons of the 6 Conquering Dragons, Vritrax saw a fair amount of time on the battlefield, & would see more battle again later in his life. While originally quite a small creature while with his first rider Valter, he would eventually grow rapidly under the care of his second & third rider, shooting up to incredible sizes. He is the largest dragon in Dracondian history, easily earning him the title of 'The Giant'. The Dragon Den that would eventually be build during his elder years was far too small to house Vritrax & he was forced to rest elsewhere. He enjoyed resting by the beach near Dragonlord's Rest, which is also where his body was discovered after he eventually passed away, at the age of 180. That beach as hereby sense be named Vritrax's Reprise.

Rozefyre

Rozefyre was the bonded dragon of Nikolaj Q. od Kronascre, the man who would have been the First 2nd Prince of Dracondia Scre, if he had only lived to see the proper establishment of the nation. The she-dragon was known for her pink coloration, with whites at the tip of her horns, wing membrances, tail & underbelly. As well as her bright green eyes, & most of all, her backwards facing corkscrew horns. The youngest of all the 6 Conquering Dragons, as well as the smallest & the one who saw the least amount of time on the battlefield, her slender frame made her unfit for battle. While at the time, it was seen as odd for a dragonrider to have a dragon of the opposite gender, her first & only rider Nikolaj was a peaceful man, which matched well with Rozefyre's own peaceful nature. Rozefyre & Nikolaj's bond is sited as one of the closest & deepest bonds in Dracondia. When her rider would later be assassinated in his sleep, Rozefyre would never again form a bond with another rider, even Prince Gregor, who attempted to form a bond with her over their shared grief of losing someone important. Rosefyre would be the starter of the infamous line of she-dragons that can produce dragon eggs without the need of copulations with another dragon. After giving birth to her clutch of three eggs, Rozefyre would pass away some time afterwards, at a very young 61 years old, around the same time as Senčnokrilo. One of her eggs would eventually be given to Princess Helenana, who would hatch the she-dragon, Skya. The riderless Modrakrila is a descendant of Rozefyre's broodline of self-reproducing she-dragons, who gave birth to the egg that would later hatch to become Misya, the newest addition to this broodline.

#musings [lore and ideas] #headcanons [a royal decree!] #『v!house of the dragonriders』 #read more for length

[betweenthetimeandsound]

Eurovision Writing Prompts

Hello everybody!

May's here, and Eurovision is going to be in a week. I was inspired by @demawrites using song lyrics for prompts, and so I thought of making some from my favorite songs over the last few years.

Here we go!

--"Moje sestra do kouta nepůjde/Ani tebe poslouchat nebude" (My sister won't stand in the corner/nor will she listen to you) --"Mi niño cuando me muera/Que me entierren en la luna" (My child, when I die/may they bury me on the moon) --"I don't wanna choose my fighter/who's taking control of me?" --"Ilta on vielä nuori ja aikaa kumota/Tää jäinen ulkokuori on aika tuhota" (There is some time for a few, the night is still youngish/This icy shell is something I have to demolish) --"I'm here tonight/promise me you'll hold me until I die" --"Milijonas rožių lyg sentimentai/skęsta jūroje debesų" (A million roses like sentiments/are drowning in the sea of clouds) --"Ik schuil onder de tafel/En ik hoop dat jij me vindt" (I hid under the table/And I hope that you’ll find me) --"I ne mora bolje, srce samo kuca" (And it doesn't need to get any better than this/The heart beats on its own) --"Me bak an tan en o lagad leun a droukc'hoant/Ha da dreiñ 'n'añ en ur c'han da gan' a-unvan" (I steal the fire from their lustful eyes/And turn it into a song to be sung in unison) --"Ламаними дорогами прийду я завжди до тебе"/(I'll always find my way home, even if all roads are destroyed) --"Regardez-moi, ou du moins ce qu'il en reste"/(Look at me, or at least what's left of me) --"Весняночко, весняночко/Де ти зимувала?" (Spring song, spring song/Where have you spent your Winter?) --"Dal punto giusto di vista/Del vento senti l’ebrezza" (From the right point of view/You can feel the euphoria brought by the wind.) --"That's why I ignored you for a long, long time/But then you had the best opening line" --"Yeah, I'm too good to be true, but there's nothing in it for you" --"Sa mall, pak shpresë/I vetëm, pa identitet" (So much yearning, so little hope./Alone without identity) --"Penso più veloce per capire se domani tu mi fregherai" (I think faster to try to figure out if you're going to fool me tomorrow) --"Kot list gre z vetrom in se mu upira/jaz grem s tokom in se mu upiram" (When a leaf goes with the wind and resists it/I go with the flow and resist it) --"No pain, no gain/Teach me carelessness" --"Ezeregy dalból ezt az egyet dúdolom, dúdolom"/"Of a thousand and one songs this is the one that I hum" --"Αν μιλήσεις τα βουνά μου/θα σ' ακούσει η μοναξιά μου." (If you talk to my mountains,/my loneliness will hear you) --"Galassie di persone disperse nello spazio/ma quello più importante è lo spazio di un abbraccio." (Galaxies of persons missed in the space/but the most important is the space of an embrace) --"Sometimes it feels like it's meant to be broken" --"Je suis tous ces enfants que la mer a pris." (I am all those children the sea took away) --"Look at me, I'm a beautiful creature!"

#eurovision song contest #writing prompts #creative writing #writers on tumblr #vesna #blanca paloma #luke black #kaarija #voyager #monika liu #s10 #konstrakta #alvan #ahez #kalush orchestra #barbara pravi #go_a #maneskin #hooverphonic #destiny #jonida maliqi #mahmood #zalagasper #katerine duska #papai joci #yianna terzi #ermal meta #fabrizio moro #sennek #madame monsieur

[lordy-lou]

giving time

read here on ao3; written for the @tentoorosemicrofics​ challenge for the prompt “pete”

When Pete first meets the blue-suited Doctor—well, first is a misnomer, to begin with.  But when he and the newly-part-human man first shake hands, Pete can’t help but to look carefully at the man standing next to Rose, to examine and try to estimate timelines in his own faulty, purely-human way.  

(He’s read studies on this: when asked to estimate how much time has passed since an event, humans don’t do too well on accurately gauging the minutes, seconds, hours, without an external timepiece.  When predicting how much time will have passed, humans do the opposite: they’re far more accurate.  Faultiness of memory inherent in the recall of the past, but far better predictive abilities when set a task.  

Handy, that.  An evolutionary predilection for anticipation.)

Still tall, still thin.  New age on a face that wasn’t meant to age, according to Rose, but the sort of aging that’s come hard-won with tragedy.  Pete knows the look; he recognizes it from himself, from the bad years, after Jacks and before Jackie.  But not the oldest he’s seen from the man.

“Pete!  Pete Tyler,” says the Doctor, shaking his hand vigorously.  “Glad to see you still kicking about, especially with the missus’ cooking.”  He delivers the second phrase sotto voce, but not quite sotto voce enough, and fails to avoid a swat from the aforementioned missus, and Jackie scoffs.  

“Goes to show what you know,” she says, wrapping her coat tighter around herself.  Lord, Norway’s cold, and this beach reeks of brine and the sea and the faint, cosmic tang of split dimensions.  “I’ve got a cook and all.  Me!  A cook and a mansion.  Imagine that!”  She shoots a grin and a wink to Pete, which he happily returns.

Rose, however, smiles dimly at her mother’s continued amazement about finances, and Pete watches the Doctor hone in on that small smile like a lifering to a man drowning.  The man (man?  Alien?  Jackie had been her usual self when calling for a lift, and hadn’t explained things much beyond “He’s gone and starfished himself!”) murmurs something in her ear that Pete can’t hear, one hand curled around her upper arm…

…and her smile disappears.  Rose steps away from the Doctor, takes a breath, and looks at Pete and Jackie.

“I’ll see you in the zeppelin, yeah?” she says—not asks, the day Rose asks for permission or help or anything of the sort is the day the sun rises in the west—and begins trudging up the beach to where the zeppelin’s anchored.  Jackie makes a sound, calls after her daughter, and Pete—

Well. As the Doctor curls in on himself minutely, his lips pressed together and thin with pain—Pete watches a man drown on dry land.

—

Rose keeps up her silent treatment for the first part of the zeppelin ride back to London.  It’s not that the Doctor and Jackie don’t try; they do, heroically keeping up conversation like everything’s normal, trying to loop Rose in as much as possible.  But she’s refusing to engage, like she did before the beach last time.  Patterns and cycles, and Rose’s pattern is avoidance or dismissal until she can figure things out in her own time.  Or, alternately, kicking the world in the teeth in her refusal to accept what is.  Girl after his own heart, she is; seems like she’s taking the first option this time.

Pete is piloting the zeppelin and keeping a weather ear open.  The Doctor had come up, once, during a lull in the back-and-forth he’d been keeping up with Jackie.   He’d poked around, asked questions, made full eye contact, seemed sure in his skin.  

Pete’d considered asking what the whole metacrisis event entailed, but shook the thought away.  This man was the Doctor; this man loved Rose.  Good enough for him.  Instead, he’d explained the evolution of zeppelin technology in this universe (”Pete’s World!  That’s what Rose and I called it, when—well—”), the death of the monarchy (“Ahhh, Torchwood Estate.  No one to stop the lupine wavelength haemovariform, although—”), and the Great War (“Nineteen-twelve, not nineteen-fourteen?  Oh, fascinating!”) before the Doctor had gotten visibly antsy.  It’s when he starts to leave the co-pilot’s seat that Pete clears his throat.

“Doctor,” he begins, staring out the viewscreen in a pointless effort to make this upcoming conversation less awkward.  “Give her time.”

Even in his peripheral, Pete can see the Doctor’s raised eyebrow; the man is pointedly unimpressed.

“I know Rose Tyler,” he says, lowly, his voice absent of all the previous jocularity.  It’s steady and cool, and this is a voice that Pete knows. “I’m well aware that she needs time.  But that doesn’t mean I won’t try in the meanwhile.”

“Nah, Doctor,” Pete says.  His hands are sweating, minutely.  He shakes himself mentally.  “We’ve measured the timelines, you know.  It was two—well, some of our scientists argued three, but we’ve agreed by now—it was two years and some change for you, yeah? After Canary Wharf?”

There is silence in the cockpit, and Pete barrels on. “And how long did you travel with Rose, too?  Same story, right?  Two years and some change if you’re asking Rose, three years and some change if you’re asking my wife.”

“Two years, four months, five days, seven hours, thirty-one minutes.”

“Bet you could tell me down to the attosecond, couldn’t ya?”

“I’d really rather not.  Where are you going with this?”

“Point is, Doctor,” Pete says, dragging in a breath through his nose.  “Point is, you had two and a bit with Rose.  She and Jacks have been here nearly seven years, now.  I’ve called her my daughter for most of that time.  Hell, I felt it ever since I caught her, even if I didn’t know it at the time.”

Here, Pete chances a look at the man next to him.  The skin of his face is pale against the noxious cobalt of his suit, and there’s the beginning of an unpleasant realization sinking in.

Knowing that he is hammering nails into this man’s growing horror, his growing sadness, Pete continues:

“I also know Rose Tyler, Doctor.  Not like her mum, because she’s always going to be Jackie’s baby girl, but I know her.  She’s the daughter who fell into my arms and she’s the better mirror of me.  And I’m telling you that Rose needs time.”

He feels awful, playing at a pissing match no one asked for, this odd display of masculinity fitting awkwardly around his shoulders like an ill-made coat.  But he knows he’s said what has to be said, especially as the Doctor pulls an odd-looking coral thing out of his jacket pocket and studies it.  He knows that coral; he’s seen it before, a glimpse of otherworldly majesty that he has not yet begun to fully comprehend.

For both their sakes, Pete is nearly sick with relief when the Doctor says nothing, just clenches his jaw and begins to leave the cockpit.  But Pete cannot help but to vomit more words instead, to attempt to salve a wound that must be inflicted to preserve a causal loop.

“Doctor—before you go back in—”

“Oh, what now?” the other man asks, exasperation working double-time to hide what Pete knows must be a pressing terror.  But he stops in the doorframe anyways, his eyes bright and wet.

“She loves you,” Pete says.  “She really, truly loves you.  Fought tooth and nail to get back to you.  She’s older and harder, and god knows how much of that is my fault, letting her go on all those missions, but she’s still in there.” He knows it’s true as he says it.  His daughter has survived dangerous parallel worlds, galvanized broken souls, and she’s brokered peace treaties between warring races, and she did all while trying to live a life fantastic, if shattered. “I know her, Doctor, and that hasn’t changed.”

Then Pete lets his words take him a little too far: “That won’t change, Doctor.  Trust me on this.”

The Doctor studies Pete, his face dispassionate and flatly alien—no tics, no giveaways, nothing to hang a reference from—before he breaks into a grin, brilliant and sure.

“Oh, Pete Tyler.  You’re almost as clever as your daughter, you are.”  Then he throws the coral in his hand, flipping it in the air before catching it deftly.  “Transtemporal mechanics are a bit of a nightmare for human minds.  And here you are, year after year, waiting for the right time.  Tell me, though—does she know?”

Pete shrugs.  “Dunno what you’re talking about there, Doctor.”  He wills his face to be as stone as the alien’s was previously, and the Doctor lets out a loud HA! before he leaves the cockpit.

“Hope,” he says as he walks out.  “I quite like hope!”  

Pete breathes out a sigh.  He, too, hopes.

–

In his tiredness, Pete doesn’t recognize the sound at first, but the large blue box that shifts into view in the dank underground of Torchwood is a familiar sight, if only through a single glance and subsequent surveillance photos, surreptitiously archived by Mickey and sent over the breach.

Even then, he’s surprised when the Doctor—in a blue suit, this time, and it was a bit awful, really—bounds out of the TARDIS.  It’s a relief, really: Mickey’d said he’d be able to help, and his appearance here must mean that he was ready to solve this Cyberman prob—

“Hello, Pete!  Pete Tyler.  Not here to solve your Cyberman problem, unfortunately.”  The Doctor is beaming as he says this, and Pete’s heart both sinks in disappointment and, just as quickly, engulfs itself in rage.

“Doctor,” he says lowly.  “I think you’ll find that if you’re following Agent Smith’s directions—”

“I’m not!” the other man interrupts.  “Honestly, Pete, give it a week.   Things will be… ah, solved isn’t a great word for it, not really, but the breach will be mended.  A few things might slip there—a transmission, a thought, you should really listen to Rose when she says something about that—but that’s not why I’m here.”

Pete stands behind his desk, and he forces his fists to unclench from the tools in his hands.  He’d been fixing one of the dimension jumpers, the ugly things.  “I think you’ll find that it’d better be why you’re here, Doctor.”  The Doctor, wholly unperturbed, sticks his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels.

“Honestly, Pete, it’s… taken care of.  Or it is in my timeline, anyways.  You’ll catch up in about… oh, seven years or so?  Keep an eye out for that, make it very sneaky-like when you first see me.  Or maybe not first, maybe during the zeppelin ride.  Don’t forget to pull some proprietary fatherly stuff in there, too—but I’m getting off track.  Sorry!  I’m here on a mission from you, actually.”

It’s a storm of information delivered in frighteningly few breaths.  Pete wills his shoulders to relax.  God, he’s so tired, and they’re so close to collapse; it’s the hottest summer on record and even this basement is too warm.  Blackouts have become commonplace and the sea levels are rising and the only thing keeping him from attacking the Doctor is his own damn exhaustion.

“I need,” he grits out, “for you to explain.”

To his utter frustration, the Doctor simply squints into the distance, like he’s seeing something in the air.  “Nah,” he says after a moment of that distant study.  “You don’t.  You’re a sharp one, Pete Tyler—thank goodness for that, otherwise I’d really be wondering where Rose got it from—oh, don’t tell Jackie I said that—but no, you’ll figure it out.   I’ve got a different goal here today.”  Then he quickly walks to Pete’s desk and grabs the dimension jumper off of it, before Pete can do or say anything.  

There’s a quick whirring, blue light—sonic screwdriver, according to Mickey—and then the jumper’s tossed back to Pete, and he barely catches it.

“Fixed,” says the Doctor.  Then his smile drops and his face sets into something stern.  “Now, Pete Tyler, listen to me.”

His voice is cool and low, and Pete, despite the muggy warmth of the basement, shivers.

“This jumper will continue to work as normal.  It is imperative that you are the one who uses it, understand?”  Any of the man’s overly-familiar facade has fully disappeared, but—

—but this man has lines where there hadn’t been any, during the initial Cyberman invasion.  He looks older.  For an alien that wasn’t supposed to age, only change—according to Mickey—how long had it been, for him?

“Pete!” the Doctor says, impatiently, leaning across the desk, crowding him.   “Only you.  This is also programmed to go off one last time before it stops working entirely.  Pete, you must be ready to catch her.  Facing north-north-west.”

There’s too much going on.  

“Catch her?” he repeats, dumbly.  Even as it leaves his mouth he’s ashamed, and the Doctor rolls his eyes.

“It’ll make sense in a week.  Just…”  and here, the Doctor’s overwhelming urgency fades, replaced with a soft sort of terror that Pete recognizes in an instant.  He’d heard it in his own voice when he’d planned to infiltrate the Cybus factories with Ro—with that girl—when he’d had only a weak hope for Jacks’ survival.

Pete’s mind whirls with potentials, with possibilities.  Catch her.  

“Ah,” he says, softly.  “I get it.”

The Doctor sniffs, raises an eyebrow.  “Do you?”  And there’s a challenge in that expression, a desperation, but above all… there’s a surety and trust there that feels undeserved as of yet.

Mickey’d mentioned how mental time travel could be.

“Think I do.”  Both eyebrows raise this time.  “Or, I expect I will in about a week’s time.”

The Doctor’s beam returns, full-wattage and nearly painful.  Pete wonders if it’s fake or not.  “Oh, at least the first half, I’m sure.”  Then the Doctor purses his lips and squints at Pete.  “Mum’s the word when you see me next, understand.  Preserve this timeline, Peter Alan Tyler.  Not the first time you’re doing this—well, not you-you, but other-you—oh, forget it.”

And with that, he turns and walks back to the TARDIS, and Pete catches a glimpse of towering metallic coral structures in a space too small for them to fit, and a distant figure in that biomechanical wonder moves closer to the door. He sees a flash of blond hair and a smile bright enough to power the entire grid, and his heart stutters in fear, in regret, and—

“Pete!” the Doctor calls, poking his head out of the doorway, blocking Pete’s view.

“Yeah?” he answers, weakly.

“Give her time.  She can be a right terror when she’s angry—ow!  Hey!”  The Doctor pops out of view for a second, then comes back.  “Sorry, the terror—I mean, the wife—” and this he directs with a grin back into the TARDIS, to the figure who by now is out of sight.  “Anyways.  Not just time; give her space, give her love.  You’ll understand.  Don’t forget.”  

Then the doors slam shut, and there is a great grinding noise and a warm blast of wind,

and then there is nothing.

Pete Tyler stands alone in a muggy basement, holding a dimension jumper in his hands.

Preserve the timeline, the Doctor’d said.  And all the other things he’d said, too.

Pete’s grip tightens on the dimension jumper, and then gentles.  He cradles it like something precious.

—

He’s able to set the zeppelin on autopilot by the time they’re about a third of the way over the North Sea, so Pete takes a moment to leave the cockpit and check on Jackie, who he’s sure has talked her way into a snit.  Hopefully no mother-daughter rows to defuse—not that he’d ever had much luck in doing so.  He’d been much better at picking up the pieces.

(He remembers, once-twice-thrice—Rose, hospitalized after a dangerous mission, shot or stabbed or torn, and Jackie laying into her like she’d been determined to get her own pound of flesh for herself.   The horrible, cutting things Rose’d said to her mother in return, desperate and angry, and Pete could only see himself after his Jacks had died, ready to cut others open in an attempt to staunch his own bleeding.

After one particularly nasty fight, Rose fresh from a failed diplomatic mission and freshly concussed as well, Jackie had stormed out of the hospital room in tears while Pete stood awkwardly in the corner.  This relationship was… a new one, only eight months old, and most of his attention had been on Jackie and her developing pregnancy.

Him!  A father!  At his age.  After all this time.

But then there was Rose, doing her damndest to hide her tears on a hospital bed in a darkened room.  And he remembered the bright flash of her grin in the distant doorway months ago, and realized that he’d seen her cry more often than he’d seen her smile and oh, how he wanted to see her smile like that again.  She looked like the best parts of her mother and him, even if he’d had no part to play in her life other than giving her a job, giving her a room—

—catching her.

Him.  A father, after all this time.  

Time—

Give her time.  Give her space.  Give her love.

Well, he wasn’t a time-travelling space alien, but…

Slowly, Pete had left his corner and sat himself in Jackie’s vacated chair.  He’d have to chase her down later, but for now—

Pete remembers the lack of resistance as he’d pulled Rose’s hands away from her face, remembers how she’d latched on to his own hands tightly as she curled inwards and sobbed in pain and frustration and heartbreak, remembers his own heart breaking for her.  This brilliant girl who could shout down a despot who’d been grounded, her wings clipped.

“I know you’ll see him again,” he’d said to her, after she’d cried herself out, finally fast asleep.  “You’ll see him, and you’ll be so happy,” he’d whispered.  “So, so happy, Rose.  I can’t wait.”

Pete wishes he could tell her when she was awake.  He wishes he could tell anyone.  But the refrain of preserve the timeline haunts him in his every word to anyone, and will for another six years.

In her sleep, though, she’d smiled.)

When Pete gets to the passenger deck, he is pleasantly surprised: Jackie’s huffily flipping through a magazine, but it’s one of her playful, pretend huffs, and he can tell she’s actually rather pleased.  She looks at him as he walks in, sneakily presses a finger to her lips, and then points at the seats on the opposite side of the passenger deck.  

The Doctor and Rose are bent together—no, more like Rose has curled herself around the Doctor, half in his lap and half on the seat, and he clutches her to him tightly.  She’s fully passed out as he runs the fingers of one hand through her hair, skittering up her arms and chastely around her waist, and he does not look out the window in favor of staring at the woman who flung herself across dimensions for the hope of finding him.

Pete walks softly towards Jackie, but even his quietest steps alert the Doctor, who slowly, gently lifts his head to look at Pete.  Rose murmurs and the Doctor smiles, whispers something in return; Rose nestles back into her spot on his shoulder.  It is the softest Pete’s ever seen her since that first time at Bad Wolf Bay.

The Doctor looks at Pete, and there’s that fathomless stare once more.

You caught her, he mouths clearly.

Pete shrugs.  She’s my daughter, he mouths in return.  And I had help.

The Doctor nods, as though this final confirmation is all he needed.  Then he closes those terrible, deep eyes, and bends his head down to rest against Rose’s, and, by all appearances, falls asleep.  His desperate grasp on Rose does not change.

Beside Pete, Jackie sniffles.

“Took ‘em long enough,” she whispers.

“Thought she’d need more time,” Pete whispers in return, offering his hand to his wife.  She takes it and he leads them both to the cockpit, where she settles comfortably in the copilot’s seat—although still very careful not to touch any of the controls.  Not her thing, she’d claimed; give her a lorry, though, and she’d paint the town red, she’d also claimed.   He believed her.  She’d be getting one for her next birthday, it’d already been planned.

“What do ya mean, ‘more time’?” Jackie asks once they’ve turned off the autopilot.

Pete shrugs.  “Whenever Rose’s gotten like… well, like that, she needs more time, typically, so she can cool down.  Think things through.”

Jackie laughs a little.  “Yeah, when she’s mad about that sort of stuff.  But not when it comes to him, you daft man.”  Then she sighs.  “She’s never taken any time when it comes to him.  Not once.  Not in the big picture.”

There’s a weight to her words, there.  A fact, both lovely and horrific, and Pete can feel his wife's certainty to his bones.  She sighs again, but it sounds happier this time.

“Oh Pete,” Jackie says.  “She’s going to be so happy.”  Then she leans over and kisses his cheek, smiling all the while.  “I’m going to get my daughter back.”

Pete remembers, again, the figure in the TARDIS so many years ago and also years to come, and her quicksilver grin, so different from the stern, guarded figure she cuts now.

“I can’t wait to meet her,” he says.  

Then he lifts his wife’s hand and kisses her knuckles gently, simply for the joy of it.

#tentoorosemicrofics #tentoorose #tentoo #rose tyler #pete tyler #goodness i hate tagging things i just want to launch a story into the æther and be done with it