#his mother taking his hand to lead him and he did not protest because he was so confused

[yueebby]

how i met your mother  — gojo satoru

contents. fluff, meet ugly, established relationship, highschool!gojo in flashback, gojo just loves his wife and everyone is sick of it

notes. this is apart of my indulge me series but everything can be read as a standalone!

“you forgot to give me a kiss this morning,” your husband pouts from your lap before puckering his lips out, “i’ll need a thousand more to compensate!” 

just a couple meters away from you, paper crinkles harshly as nanami, your fellow colleague, flips the page on the newspaper he’s reading. you hear a heavy sigh leave his lips.  “i missed it when you both hated each other,” he readjusts his glasses with one hand tiredly. he’s disappointed, but not surprised with satoru’s behavior.

this comment causes itadori, who happened to be hanging out in the teacher’s lounge to perk up.

“gojo-sensei and gojo-san hated each other?” he sits up straight on the couch. the pink haired boy looks between you and satoru, who is purring happily as you play with his hair. “i can’t imagine that..” he mumbles quietly. he was, unfortunately, a first hand witness of gojo’s love for you.

the white haired male that was comfortably nestled in your lap looks up at you, “ah! she tried so hard to resist my charms, but this handsome face won in the end!” his loud boast leads you to cover his mouth with the palm of your hand.

“that couldn’t be farther from the truth,” you press your palm harder against his mouth, determined to silence his protests. 

nanami easily ignores his senior’s muffled whines while itadori looks at his sensei in pity. marriage must be tough, he thinks.

you only lift your hand off of his mouth with a shriek when satoru decides to lick your palm. he smirks proudly at himself causing the other two males in the room to grimace at the strange display of affection. 

“darling, you hated me?” his eyes blink up at you innocently, blue eyes on full display. you purse your lips together, resisting whatever game he was playing at. from the moment you stepped into the lounge with him, he insisted on taking his blindfold off. he argues that he has to see you with his own eyes or he’ll die. you argue that he’s dramatic. nonetheless, satoru was cute so you’ll let him get away with it. 

“hate is a strong word– i just didn’t like you very much. we got off on the wrong foot, might i remind you.” 

2005 — year one at tokyo jujutsu tech

meet at 1 chome-1-1 dogenzaka, shibuya city, tokyo

that was written in the letter addressed to you from yaga. the bustling streets of tokyo, filled with the cacophony of hundreds of conversations and the rush of oncoming traffic, were a stark contrast to the serene country life you had enjoyed. 

the sheer mass of people in the street made it nearly impossible for you to spot your teacher and future classmates, but the heavens above must be on your side because you spot a dark uniform in the corner of your eye, similar to the one you’re wearing.

a jujutsu tech uniform! without wasting a second, you weave your way through the crowd to the tall figure. upon closer inspection, you find that it was a boy with snow hair, a juxtaposition to the dark fabric of his uniform.

“excuse me, but are you by any chance from–” you tap on the abnormally tall frame from behind.

“not interested.” he doesn’t spare you a glance before walking away. it takes you a minute to process what had just happened. did he just–? that must have been a figment of your imagination. you feel as though you were shell shocked.

another voice joins the conversation, “oh, gojo, you found her.” it was another guy with a uniform just like the white haired boy and yours. he has notable bangs, you think. 

“did i? she must be a real weakling. i couldn’t even sense her cursed energy,” gojo now turns back to look at you.

a surge of irritation courses through you, your grip on your skirt tightening. this guy must be some spoiled brat that came from a special lineage. you shoot him a sharp glare from the corner of your eyes, only to find out that he too had a sharp gaze on you.

a low whistle comes out of his mouth. 

 “oh,” there is a noticeable change in the tone of his voice. from your peripheral vision, you notice him take off his round sunglasses. “hey.”  you want to laugh.

out of pure pettiness, you recycle his previous comment, “not interested.”

thankfully, another student arrived, this time it was a girl with short brown hair. she waved at you politely, to which you happily smiled. it was nice to know that there were some people left in this world with manners.

soon after her arrival, yaga comes.

“hello, i’m [last name] [first name] from kyoto. please take care of me!” you bow before everyone but gojo or whatever his name is. you come to find out that mr. bangs is actually geto and the pretty girl is ieiri.

“you didn’t tell me she was hot,” gojo not-so-quietly whispers to geto. the hand over his mouth is in vain because you can still hear him clearly. both ieiri and geto make a distasteful face. 

you look around confused. it’s not everyday you receive such a brash compliment, “...thank you?” 

there’s a slightly horrified look on gojo’s face when he realizes that you had heard him, but he recovers quickly, replacing it with a cheshire grin.

“say, have you been to shinjuku? i’m sure a country bumpkin like you wouldn’t know, so allow me to–” 

there’s only so much patience in your body. with a deep breath and your best passive aggressive smile, you utter, “no thanks.” 

he blinks. once. twice. you assume he is not used to rejection with the way he has yet to process it. 

a soft chuckle leaves his mouth, “playing hard to get, i see. i like a challenge.”

“that’s not really the case.”

“one date,” he announces with a playful smirk, raising a single finger in emphasis.

you’re on the verge of shaking your head in rejection, but before you can, yaga intervenes, swiftly and unceremoniously slapping the back of gojo’s head.

“kids these days,” he mutters under his breath while gojo rubs the wound painfully. you snicker.

gojo straightens up when the sound of your laughs reaches his ears. his eyes track the sound waves back to your face, only to be disappointed when he sees that your attention is on geto. 

unlike gojo, geto was trying to salvage what was left of a good first impression. the black haired male smiles awkwardly, leading you away from his strange friend, “so you’re from kyoto? why didn’t you attend the jujutsu tech there?”

from behind you, there’s an incredulous, “eh? and lose a beauty like that to the kyoto guys?” 

you’re nearly certain that a blood vessel is about to pop. but you swallow your frustration, choosing to answer the only sensible boy you’ve met today.

“i’m trying to avoid clan matters, so kyoto is the last place i want to be,” you explain to geto who nods understandingly. 

what you don’t see is the sneaky wink he sends back at a fuming satoru.

2018 — present day

your recollection must not have been accurate, because your husband is sulking by the end of your story. 

“hmph. that’s not how i remember it.” he crosses his arm with a huff.

“how do you remember it? do tell.” you look down at him. there’s a cheeky glint in his eyes, like you’ve just walked into his trap.

there’s a cheeky glint in his eyes, like you’ve just walked into his trap. “i remembered cherry blossoms falling and more hearts floating around,”

you smack his shoulder.

“be serious!”

he waves his hand in the air to stop your playful attacks, “fine, fine!” 

you know that he’s secretly enjoying the attention.

“well, i’m quite the looker so it was common for girls to constantly gush over me y’know?” he grins. you did not find that amusing, retracting your hands from his hair. he immediately grabs your hand and places it back on his head.

“let me finish!”

you resume your handiwork on his head reluctantly. “go on.”

there’s a content smile on his face, “i thought you were just trying to hit on me! it was only after i took a good look at you, i realized that you were totally hot.”

“i can’t believe i married you.” you roll your eyes, but there is no malice behind the action.

“hah–” his mouth is wide open. “i’m a total catch, ya’ know?!” 

“mhm, yeah. you are a catch toru,” you coo while pinching his cheek and he blushed furiously. 

the two of you are too engrossed with each other to notice the horrified look that has settled on nanami’s face. one peaceful afternoon, he thinks. one peaceful afternoon is all he asks for.

extra notes- 

yuji respects gojo as his teacher, but he still can’t believe that gojo was able to pull you.

there have been multiple occasions where you had forgotten to give satoru a goodmorning kiss, each time he finds you and forces you to actually give him a dozen to compensate. it doesn’t matter if he was on a mission or teaching (he’s annoying like that).

gojo’s the pride of the gojo clan so he was spoiled rotten, hence the reason why he was so sure you were into him.

this is only the start, as your high school years go by, he only falls harder.

#kt.writes.·:*¨༺ #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojou x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x reader #remember spring days!au

[peachesofteal]

No cause now I’m imagining the moment Ghost and Soap show up at Darling’s apartment and her mind is hazy from the fever and she still doesn’t really trust them so she will not let them take her baby and they have to convince her so that they can take care of both Darling and the baby. And she finally does and then Soap and Ghost are surprisingly good at it and it’s adorable to see two ginormous men cooing over a tiny tiny human. Darling is so torn because they love and want to take care of the both of them but they betrayed her and she doesn’t trust them. Does she let them stay or make them go?????? 😭😭😭

-🥔

Love this. 🥔

18+ Mature themes / baby trap au / takes place after this

Simon's fist is heavy against the door. He knocks so loudly, Johnny swears it rattles his teeth. He knocks again, and again, until they're both exchanging worried looks as they listen to the sound of a baby crying just beyond the door.

The lock clicks, and then the door opens to reveal you on the other side, crying baby in your arms. Your entire body is trembling, and Bee wails against you, little face scrunched up in misery. You both look poorly, and fear eats away at Johnny little by little. What would have happened if you hadn't called? How sick are you? How sick is Bee? What's going on?

They both try not to stare at the baby in your arms. Your baby. Their baby.

Their sick baby, in the arms of her sick mother. Living in this shit flat too far away, alone. With no one to care for them.

"Darling?" Simon whispers softly, and you blink at him. Like you’re confused. Like you’re surprised.

“Hey.” Johnny says, forcing himself to stand and speak casually. “You called us?” Your face shifts a little, nearly scrunching up like Bee’s, and then you shake your head.

“No I… didn’t think, I didn’t t-think… I did?” The words are slow, thick and sticky, and they can practically hear the rattle in your chest from here. You’re really sick. How long have you been sick like this?

Johnny’s about to protest when Simon holds his hands up, open palm and easy. 

“Well, we’re here now. Will you let us help?” You shake your head, the refusal adamant, and Johnny swallows his discontent. You need their help. You need them. You called them. Why won’t you let them in?

“You’re sick. You called, said you both ‘ave fevers.” He gestures to the baby against your chest and you cradle her head protectively.

“No.” You croak.

“Look at me,” he pleads. “Look. Look, everything’s okay. We’re here to help you. Please, let us help you.” He holds his phone out, turning the screen towards you, your eyes squinting at the brightness of the screen before focusing on his call log, the incoming call from a blocked number clearly displayed at the top. Something fractures across you, some weight that’s been weighing on you, and you shuffle to the side, opening the view for the of the hallway, and a little kitchen.

Simon leads him across the threshold without a second to lose, and you cough as they slide by you. You stand away from them, warily, still aware but focus slipping as you shudder. He wants to reach out and feel your skin, press the back of his hand to your forehead to feel just how warm you are, the sweat soaked hair at your nape obviously displaying your ill state.

“Alright.” Johnny runs a hand through his hair, and tries not to tug at the roots. “Let’s get you together so we can get you two to a doctor.”

"She ne-needs to go to hospital." you explain, pointing to the half packed backpack with a shaking hand. "But I don't..." Bee cries against you, and you pat her back helplessly, eyes lost as they swim with tears. "I don't feel good, I feel fuzzy, and I c-can't navigate the trains like this."

"Alright. We can-"

"I didn't know what to do." You cry, and Johnny's heart twists in his chest, the sight of you so distraught, eyes glassy with fever, lips dry and cracked. He thinks you probably need to go to hospital too, with the way you're swaying slightly, how your cough sounds, your head drooping forward like it's too heavy for your neck.

“We can help. We can get you both to hospital-“ you cough again, taking care to point your face away from Bee, cutting him off before swiftly shaking your head.

“I don’t need it.”

“Don’t need what?” Simon cuts sharply.

“The hospital. Just-“ your lungs wheeze. “jus’ Bee.” Not bloody likely. You bounce her gently, but your eyes clench shut and you blow out a breath before sticking a hand out to still yourself against the counter.

“Darling, you need a doctor.” Simon counters firmly, and you cover your mouth again, to cough.

You wobble on your feet, swaying slightly before lurching just a little to the left, practically into Johnny who swears in alarm, arm coming around your shoulders to steady you.

“Johnny.” Simon directs, motioning to Bee before coming around to your other side, shifting your weight into him as if you were a rag doll. “Take the baby.” There’s no time for hesitation, for him to be nervous or unsure. There’s only a moment before Bee is nestled in his arms, unhappy face gazing up at him, like she knows.

She’s beautiful, even though she’s upset, and sickly. Still beautiful, like her mum. Perfect, angelic.

Their daughter. He’s holding their daughter, in his arms. Their precious, adorable, sweet child that is every bit of you that he had imagined. Such an incredible thing, born from such an awful decision.

And she’s running a temperature.

High temperatures are bad for babies. Fevers are worse for babies than they are for adults or even older children. The warning from a baby book he read a while ago, what feels like forever ago, blares in his mind.

Your head hangs limply against Simon, and Johnny reaches out to finally try to get a gauge of your temperature. When he makes contact, he grimaces.

“She’s burning up.” You grunt something in reply, but it’s nonsense. “So is the wee one.”

“Okay. We’re going.” He nods to the backpack, and Johnny manages to loop an arm through it while keeping a crying Bee tucked against his chest.

“Shhh, shhh.” He tries in vain to hush her. “‘s alright, little love. We’ve got ya. Mum’s right there, she’s right here.”

There’s a throbbing ache inside Simon’s head. He thinks it’s probably from the way his jaw is clenched so tight, or how his muscles are so tense they feel like they’re going to shred apart while he helps you walk through the front doors of the hospital.

They put you in a wheelchair, a small comfort Simon is grateful for, and wheel you into a room while they follow step by step behind. Bee cries in Johnny’s arm, and he tries to soothe her the best he can, but it’s fruitless.

She wants you. She wants her mum.

A nurse gets you into a gown in the bathroom, and then somewhat settled into a bed with a monitor on your finger before asking Johnny for Bee.

"Where are you taking her?" You protest, distressed when he hands her over, and Simon tenses while the nurse gives you a sympathetic look.

"She needs to go down to peds, just to see the doctor." You shake your head, and cough, the force of it shaking your body. Johnny winces.

"No, she… she needs to stay with me."

"She'll come right back up, when she's done. We'll have a bassinet for her, so she can sleep in here with you."

"N-no she can't. She can't... she has to stay with me." The monitor that seems to be measuring your heart rate picks up, the beeping steadily increasing while your eyes dart around the door wildly, panicked. The nurse opens her mouth to probably explain, again, but Simon sits down by your leg, careful not to touch you, but holding your gaze with a firm look.

"One of us can go with her, darling. Right?" He raises an eyebrow at the nurse, who nods. "See? And we'll stay with her, we'll make sure she's back up here in no time." You look from him to Johnny, who nods seriously, and he watches you loosen a breath from your chest. In the awful yellow light of the hospital, you appear more tired, more sickly than before. It unsettles him, and seeing you distressed physically hurts, because he can’t comfort you, can’t hold you, can’t tell you that you’re alright, that they’re here.

“Alright.” You sniffle weakly, eyes sad and heavy with exhaustion. He exchanges a glance with Johnny, one that says ‘you choose’, and then he’s following Bee and the nurse out the door, while Simon watches you fight sleep.

“You can rest, darling.” He encourages, and you gnaw on your lip while you watch the disappear down the hallway. “I’ll wake you, when she’s back.” It’s an assurance, one he knows you need while your eyelids droop, your sleep imminent.

“Okay.” You whisper, leaning your head back on the pillow, and shifting a bit so you’re tucked just slightly onto your side.

We’ll watch over you, he thinks. We’ll watch over you both.

Bonus: after you and Bee get discharged, the guys take you home and you actually let them help you with Bee and eventually, take care of you too. A little bit.

#peaches asks #🥔 anon #peaches writes #baby trap au #ghost x reader x soap #ghoap x reader #soap x reader x ghost #sickfic

[dollfaceksj]

Just saw your wips…. crack drabble series for Yoongi? Count me in pls!!!!

hope u like it 😘😘😘 tell me what u think!

ps: unlike toapp, this will have WEEKLY updates instead of daily updates. 🫶🏽 MASTERLIST POST to can’t afford love coming shortly after this.

can’t afford love | myg (m) #1

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“come on,” you sigh as the child in front of you stubbornly crosses his arms and looks away

you sit back and stare at him for a while, his shoe in your hand that he refuses to let you put on. “jun, we’re going to be late. miss jiyeong isn’t gonna be happy.”

he still refuses to even acknowledge your presence, staring at the wall like the little brat he is

he looks so much like his damn father.

stubborn little shit.

he’s mad because he wanted to eat his breakfast on his own

ended up spilling on the shirt he insisted on wearing today

which you had to change OBVIOUSLY

you wish you could argue with kids cause why are they DUMB.

he’s upset because

jun absolutely loves daycare

he loves spending time with his friends

and as a mother it pains you immensely

it pains you so fucking much

to realize that your child

is lonely.

“okay, jun. that means no more spongebob or daycare for a whole week,” you sigh as you rise to your feet and drop his shoes, pretending to head out the door without him

he cries out to make you stop in your tracks, inevitably ending his silent treatment towards you

you turn around to face him and place your hands on your hips. “are you gonna listen to mommy now or not?”

soft tears prick in his eyes as he nods, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand

“come here,” you coo as you squat and welcome him into your arms, kissing the top of his head. “you really wanted to leave me while you’re mad at me? you don’t want to break mommy’s heart, right?”

he shakes his head as he wipes his other eye, face still buried in the crook of your neck

every other monday, you bring jun to daycare and his father picks him up there at the end of the day. the following monday, it’s your turn to pick him up from daycare and keep him for the rest of the week until you have to drop him off again and not see him for the coming week

it’s the easiest way of doing week-week with your ex husband without having to see him.

your ex-husband…

min yoongi.

it’s been a little over a year since your divorce

you’ve seen him a few times since and it was only ever in regards to jun

well.. about 3 weeks following your divorce you’d have sex with him a few times but thats it. its been a year since

you’re bitter about the divorce but you can’t be too bitter

not when it was your idea to divorce to begin with

what else were you supposed to do? you were at home, taking care of everything and your husband was buried in work, gone all the time

such a typical fucking marriage

that you did not need nor want

the months leading up to your divorce were the worst, eventually the reason that made you snap

it was almost like living with a roommate who you barely saw

you weren’t worried about infidelity

no that wasn’t it

it was just the worry of your husband slowly falling out of love with you and you escaping before that theory could become reality

he was surprised when you slammed the divorce papers down onto his desk but he didn’t fight you

he didn’t protest, he didn’t pry, he didn’t do anything. asked how you two were going to handle jun and it came down to week-week.

now with a calm jun in your arms, you slowly shove the shoes onto his little feet before grabbing your purse and heading out the door of your apartment with your son in your arms

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like clockwork, it’s the next monday and time for you to pick up jun from daycare

it’s only noon so you’ve got time to clean around the house before having to pick jun up

until your doorbell rings

hm?

you weren’t expecting anyone today

you wrap the thin bathrobe around your naked (bra and underwear) body, having just come out the shower

you cautiously open the door to be met

with

your

ex husband

holding your son

holy shit

what the fuck

you haven’t seen this man in months

sent him a few texts here and there

but its been so long since u’ve last seen him

why is your heart

stuttering

in its rhythm

absolutely just

pounding

against your ribcage

your sons head leaning on yoongi’s shoulder, diaper butt perked up on his forearm

yoongi’s hair has grown a lot, ends tickling his shoulders and neck

white dress shirt and black slacks

he uhhh

looks pretty good.

too fucking good.

a frown creeps onto your brows at the sight in front of you. “what’s going on?”

“daycare called me, said he’d been vomiting. he’s burning up,” he replies, not protesting when your worried face lunges at your baby and take him from your exhusband’s arms

“why the hell didn’t they call me? they know he’s supposed to be with me this week.” your son is sound asleep in your arms, your hand gently rubbing his back as you walk further into your apartment

yoongi stays in the entrance but closes the door behind him to keep the cold out

“i don’t know. they just called me and i went to go pick him up.”

ugh he’s so nonchalant with everything

you glance over your shoulder at him. you start, “why didn’t you call me then?”

at this, he frowns. “i brought him here cause i didn’t want to worry you over the phone. is there a problem?”

of course he wants to make this into a bigger deal than it is.

of fucking course

“for fucks sake,” you mumble as you shake your head and lie your son down on the couch, surrounding him with pillows and blankets

“update me on his condition. i have to go back to work,” yoongi says as he opens the front door

“yeah, don’t let the door hit you on your way out,” you mutter under your breath as you fetch your thermometer to take your son’s temperature

yoongi scoffs but doesn’t say anything else before he leaves

but then

you realize that

yoongi could

potentially

fix

the small problem

you’ve been struggling with

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your son has been sick the past few days, holed up at home and complaining about not seeing his friends on his birthday

he had a whole birthday outfit planned and snacks that he was going to share with everyone which he can’t do now

“what do you want for your birthday, baby?” you ask as you stroke his head

“daddy,” is all he says

“you’ll celebrate your birthday with daddy next week. what do you want to do with mommy?”

“i want daddy and mommy.” he continues to play with his airplanes as you blink at him. he’s never demanded you two be together so you have no idea how to even process this

“daddy is busy tonight, baby.” you stroke his cheek

he drops his airplane. “call daddy.”

“but–”

“i want daddy.”

the exasperated sigh that leaves you is almost painful as you reach for your phone

jun is just staring at you with his arms crossed and a frown on his little brows

having to dial his number on a wednesday at 5pm

ugh

how embarrassing

he picks up after the 2nd ring and you put it on speaker

“hello?”

“daddy.”

“oh, what’s up, buddy? my birthday boy. you feeling any better?”

“yesh.”

“that’s good to hear, daddy was worried about you, you know.”

“yesh.”

“daddy’s gonna do lots of fun things with you next week. are you excited?”

“yesh.”

“okay, that’s good, baby. i’ll see you soon, okay?”

“daddy, wait.”

“hm?”

“daddy come eat with me and mommy.”

?!???

“jun,” you mumble in a warning tone

“huh?”

fuck sake.

“i want daddy.”

“i don’t think mommy would like that, buddy. we’ll do something fun next week.”

“no, i want it for birthday, daddy. mommy also want.”

you shoot a stern frown at jun but he simply doesn’t care

“can you give mommy the phone, jun?”

“mommy hears you.”

“y/n?”

you sigh quietly as you rub your eyebrows.

“yeah?”

“what’s going on?”

“i’m not sure where this is coming from but jun wants to have dinner with us.”

it’s quiet on the other end. “tonight?”

“yes, tonight, yoongi. it’s his birthday and he’s been holed up for days with no one but me.”

“i know, i know.” a soft sigh leaves his lips. “i’ll be there at 7.”

your heart almost skips a beat

“see you then,” you say as you hang up

fuck.

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you get ready

you don’t even know why you’re wearing makeup and have your hair done wearing that dress that dress that yoongi likes so much

you’re doing it for your son’s birthday of course

and not because you’ve been contemplating asking yoongi a specific question

as you smooth out your dress and help a very nicely dressed jun sit at the table—that is filled with all of your best home made foods

the door rings

and your heart continues to pound out of your chest

you slowly walk up to the door and open it up, meeting eyes with your exhusband

clad in a simple black suit and his hair nicely styled with one side tucked behind his ear, he’s holding a bag and a bouquet of roses

your eyes shift to the roses with a quirk in your brow

“these are for jun,” he mumbles as he impatiently waits for you to step aside which you eventually do

he kicks his shoes off and hands you the bouquet before jun hops off his seat and runs up to his father

yoongi drops the plastic bag he’s holding onto the floor and hunches over to catch jun, raising him up and holding him in his arms. “who’s turning 3 years old today?”

“me?” jun replies, uncertain

“of course, you, silly! not daddy, right? are you crazy? is jun crazy?” he jokes as he pokes juns belly and nips at the crook of his neck, making jun laugh and giggle as he tries to resist

it warms your heart to see jun so happy

even if he was a shit fuckin husband

he’s always been an exceptional father

“come on, food’s gonna get cold,” you say as you walk up to the table, sitting in your usual spot

yoongi and jun join you shortly after and you have a nice dinner

together

as a family

:(

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sitting at the table with a bottle of wine screwed open

jun on the floor in front of the tv with the new big toy he got from his father

you glance at yoongi who wipes his mouth with a napkin before shifting his gaze toward you

“i’ve missed your food,” he comments as he leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. “thanks. it was really good.”

you nod. “thanks for coming.”

he shakes his head. “whatever jun wants, jun gets.”

you chuckle quietly and take another sip from your wine. you’ve been building the courage to ask yoongi that one question for almost an hour now

“yoongi,” you start as you place your glass back down on the table in front of you

he tilts his head to the side, an indicator that he hears you loud and clear

“you know,” you say as you take a deep breath. “jun aches to go to daycare. because he’s lonely.”

yoongi simply blinks at you, seemingly wondering where you’re going with this

silence

it’s so quiet for several moments, only the distant sounds of jun playing with his toys and spongebob playing on your tv reach your ears

“he’s lonely, yoongi,” you reiterate

he frowns this time, titling his head for a second in utter confusion

“i don’t understand what you want from me. i do my best to make time for him, you know th–”

“i’m not talking about me or you.”

you stay quiet after that, hoping he’ll figure it out on his own

he doesn’t though, just places his arms on the table, leaning further over it. “what are you getting at, y/n?”

the usage of your name sends a current of electricity up your spine

heats up the back of your neck, cheeks and your ears

“what i’m trying to say is…” you sigh as you bring your hand up to scratch the back of your head, looking away for a few moments

you gather your courage

make eyecontact with him

and part your lips to say;

“would you be willing to give him a sibling?”

to be continued.

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#clover’s drabble series: cal | myg #yoongi x you #min yoongi x y/n #min yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi fic #yoongi drabble #yoongi smut #bts #bts yoongi #min yoongi #yoongi #yoongi angst #min yoongi angst #min yoongi smut #min yoongi fics #yoongi fics #bts smut #bts au #bts x reader #bts reader #dollfaceksj #minors dni #bts fic #min yoongi fic #bts suga #bts angst #bts aus

[h2llish]

【╰ヾ❝ GARDEN ✧„ pt 2

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR ━━━ leona loves the boy in the garden ♡ fluff, bit angsty, pining, book 2 and 3 mentions, leona is a little insecure and pining hard, male reader, lowercase intended, more lore for reader (wow/s)

fem aligned dni (she/they, she/her, etc)

part 1

the book leona borrowed from you (and still had yet to give back) began by saying the language of flowers and plants are beautiful, and then it'd go on to list some flowers and their meanings. amaryllis meaning pride; aster is a symbol of love and even daintiness; calla lilies mean beauty. one of those flowers listed is the white carnation, also one of the flowers you had given leona. the white carnation has quite a few meanings, but they all lead to the same thing nonetheless: sweet, innocent love.

if you move through the book a few pages, you'll find the salvia. it goes on to list colors on the flower having their own meanings. the blue salvia has a meaning you've always thought to be more beautiful than the red; i think of you. it was that flower that you gave to leona because it was true, you think about him. he was on your mind even when he laid next to you as you tended to the flowers. he was always there in your thoughts even when you needed to be focused on your task at hand. he owned your mind even though he was completely unaware of it.

and of course, the chrysanthemum; the red chrysanthemum. it was your favorite flower in the way you hated it so much. you told yourself you'd never own another, you'd never plant another, and yet you did anyways. because it was a flower you knew would get your feelings across exactly for its meaning was simple and straightforward; i love you. the same thing you'd only ever wished your mother had told you before she sent you off to live with your aunt. the words your mother told you she'd never utter as you were the reason, she let the magic consume and fog her mind. the words you'd hoped to tell leona yourself even with the flowers in your hands.

i love you, leona. i love you.

but you could not, not when leona hadn't come to the botanical garden for what you realized was half a month. you understood, of course, and it was bad timing on your part. all the dorms, including your own, were busy with preparing for spelldrive. and then there was the mysterious injuries that began to take some of the best players in every dorm by swarm. so, of course, leona was busy and probably couldn't come around to the garden as much as you wished he could. (because you'd admit, you missed seeing him.) so you opted to pay him a visit at his dorm, which quickly changed to just leaving ruggie to deliver your flowers to the prince in hopes that he understood exactly what those flowers meant and what you were trying to say. (he had your book on the meaning of flowers for months then, so you assumed he must at least know some of the meanings for the flowers.)

you paid him a visit a few more times after that but was quickly shooed away by ruggie who always had an excuse. you just wanted a response; because whether it was rejection or not, you needed him to tell you face-to-face. maybe then, you'd finally be able to get over the unfamiliar racing of your heart and the constant thoughts that centered around him.

if leona wanted to talk to you, he knew where to find you. and if he didn't, then you'd just track him down after spelldrive and force him to give you an answer because you didn't like how unfamiliar it was to be waiting so anxiously for a response.

however, what you didn't expect, was to have the prefect from another world suddenly approach your dorm and request the help of your housewarden to stop the culprit behind the mysterious injuries; leona. being a part of heartslabyul, you were expected to aid in the plan as well; you didn't protest, even when you were faced with the feeling of a pit in your stomach and a tightness in your chest as the realization that the man you were in love with was the reason one of your dormmates was injured. (but you still loved him even when that thought was almost painful.)

it was a surprise, to confront the lion and have him admit what he and ruggie were doing. but it was even more of a surprise when you recognized the obvious signs of building blot (something you were all too familiar with even before riddle). watching as ruggie struggled to breath as sand picked up and the air became thin with the grains. leona's signature spell was powerful; you knew that from the time you once asked him about it during your conversations in the botanical garden. you could start to see the effects it began to have on those around you, including yourself. breathing growing short and bit of panic rising in your chest.

but for the lion, leona could never forget the way you looked at him as you wrapped an arm around ruggie and pulled him away. you coughed under the effects of his spell, eyes wide as you stared up at him and━ oh, were you scared of him? the fear in your eyes would probably be unrecognizable to those who couldn't read you, but leona noticed it, and amongst the blot that began to take over, he felt his own self crumble at thought that you were scared of him. (if only he knew it wasn't fear of him, but for him.)

you managed to stop leona just before the blot could consume him whole, much to your relief. and as the blot that took form behind leona released him, you were the only one quick to rush forward to catch him just before the prince could hit the ground. and as he lay unconscious, you held him, so carefully, as if he was another one of your flowers in your garden.

and while ruggie didn't understand flowers, and he didn't understand you or leona, he understood, in that moment, as he watched you hold leona until he regained consciousness, that you loved the prince.

leona was avoiding you. he knew that, ruggie knew that, you knew that.

leona was avoiding you and he didn't understand why. ━ okay, that's a lie, he knew exactly why. it's because he (and his pride would never admit it) was scared. scared, because after his overblot, he didn't know what you wanted nor how you felt, and he didn't want to face it either. he doesn't think he could handle a rejection from you of all people.

ruggie has voiced his disappointment of the lion on several occasions, not happy that he was sending you away every time you tried to see the prince because leona was too much of a coward to face you. ruggie's had to come up with excuse after excuse just to send you off, and he's running out of reasonable excuses, and he knows you've realized. and while he's said this to leona a number of times, leona still refuses to face you. at one point, ruggie was desperate enough to drag a confused jack over to try and get him to move from his bed.

jack sighed, standing at leona's bedside and apologizing to ruggie, as it was obvious the lion had no intention of moving to go talk to garden boy as ruggie called you. the freshman didn't understand what was going on nor why leona had to talk to the gardener of the botanical garden, but it was obviously important if ruggie was trying so hard to force the lion out of bed.

ruggie groaned, "come on, leona! talk to him!"

leona didn't reply verbally, but the annoyed flick of his tail as he turned his back to the two told them what he was thinking.

"coward." ruggie glared, arms crossed over his chest as an awkward jack stood next to him, a bit caught off guard by the sudden insult thrown towards their housewarden. when ruggie still gained no response, the hyena scoffed, turning away to stomp off, to which jack followed. but ruggie made sure to add just before he shut the door behind him, "i'm not turning him away again!"

leona scoffed, tail flicking aggressively as he stared at the three flowers in a vase, set safely on his desk. (because while he may be avoiding you, the flowers were once a confession, and he preferred to have that if he couldn't have you.)

everyone has a point where their patience dries, and they can no longer find themselves able to wait for something or someone. and for you, a rather stoic and otherwise patient person, it may take a while before you reach that point, but even you have that moment where you no longer find yourself able to sit still. (and your patience was strong because it had been a month since you last seen him.)

your patience just so happened to run out while at an unbirthday party. you had been in a conversation with trey regarding the science club (and rook's extravagant need to cause poor trey issues by almost blowing up the lab), when you overheard deuce and ace talking. you nodded at whatever trey was saying, but your mind was on the freshman's conversation as you heard them mention savanaclaw and leona.

you learned then that the prefect and grim found themselves staying at savanaclaw because the prefect had signed a contract with azul, putting their dorm on the line because they were trying to get ace, deuce, and grim's freedom back after they had been stupid enough to sign a contract with azul in the first place.

you felt frustration build, grip tightening dangerously on the teacup in your hand and eyes narrowing on the treats in the center of the table. trey noticed your silence, stopping to stare at you as your mood took an uncharacteristic turn. he was caught off guard, after his years of knowing you since you guys met in your first year at nrc, you had never been this expressive, and he couldn't understand what caused the sudden turn in mood (it's not like he knew it was because you overheard the freshman's conversation, nor why that would make you upset.) even if it was a small change in your character, it was enough to cause him concern.

"[name]?" he called.

you blinked, relaxing your grip on your teacup and turning to him with a hum, "yes?"

his brows furrowed, "are you okay?"

you tilted your head, "of course. why do you ask?"

"well━" trey sighed, "nevermind." (he's long since learned you can't be read or understood so easily.)

you nodded, leaning back in your chair and grabbing a treat from the table, biting into it slowly as you stared off in thought, feeling the frustration bubble in your chest again.

you weren't upset because the prefect was staying with leona ━ far from it, actually. you respected the prefect; you fought alongside them twice now. and they often paid you visits at the botanical garden, telling you they enjoyed coming because you made the garden peaceful and it gave them a break from the chaos, (even you were flattered by their words). they were nice and had admittedly become a friend to you.

rather, you were upset because they only mentioned leona. after a month of being turned away by ruggie and hoping for the prince to turn up at the garden, the very mention of leona caused frustration to build and patience to dry.

you were tired of waiting.

you sighed loudly, setting your cup on the table and standing from your seat. you turned to trey, who watched you curiously. with a rather forced calm tone in your voice, you said; "i just remembered i have to take care of something in the botanical garden. it's important. tell riddle i'm sorry."

trey could only nod in his confusion as he watched you take your leave from the maze. it wasn't like you to forget anything regarding plants, let alone the botanical garden. perhaps he'll ask you later, you do seem to be in a hurry.

you didn't stop for anything on your way to savanaclaw; not when cater tried to ask you where you were going and not when you almost ran into a very confused periwinkle-haired boy upon exiting heartslabyul. you didn't care about the odd looks you received from the students as you entered savanaclaw's mirror, and you had no intention of turning away when you spotted ruggie and jack.

ruggie noticed you quickly, looking a little tense as he seen the out-of-character expression of frustration on your face. when you approached him and the freshman he was talking to, he didn't bother to come up with an excuse (besides, he did warn leona). he pointed over his shoulder and nodded, "i'll show you to his room."

you nodded in return, pleased with his response, "thank you." you glanced at the wolf beastman staring at the two of you in confusion, "sorry to interrupt, jack."

"oh, it's fine." he waved off with a tilt of his head, watching as ruggie led you into the dorm building.

when you reached leona's dorm room, you could hear the familiar sound of a complaining grim. you didn't wait as you immediately pushed the door open, and right away did your eyes meet familiar green (an emerald color that you've always found so pretty to look at).

leona tensed, his grip on the monster's neck loosening. he stared at you, silent as you narrowed your eyes on him. the lion was at a loss as he noticed the frown on your lips and the tilt in your brow. (are you angry? at him? perhaps he should've listened to ruggie.)

the prefect caught onto the tension pretty quickly, grabbing grim, who was about to start complaining again, and quickly approaching ruggie, who was standing behind you in the doorway. you moved out of the way to allow them to pass, yet you remained glaring at leona, who was oddly quiet in the presence of you. the door shut behind you after their exit and the silence between the two of you seemed to thicken.

that is, until your familiar monotone broke it, "you're avoiding me." you stated, taking a step towards the prince. you hardly gave him a moment to respond other than the sound of what might've been the beginning of no, before you continued. "why are you avoiding me?"

leona scoffed (the only noise he could make, as he was unable to muster a response now that he was faced with the boy he had fallen in love with. the boy he had been avoiding because he was under the belief that your feelings had changed after his overblot.)

"leona," you said, rather sternly. (and he liked when you said his name, even if the situation for it wasn't ideal.) "why are you avoiding me? it's been over a month, why━" you went quiet, as if you had lost a bit of your nerve. or perhaps, you were just struck by a thought. you tilted your head and sighed through your nose, "if this is your form of rejection, it's terrible. i'd prefer you'd do it person instead of avoiding me. maybe then i'd feel better, because it... hurts."

oh.

you had gotten closer, your eyes still refusing to leave his even when it became obvious that he was uncomfortable under the sudden interrogation. "why are you avoiding me, leona?"

"i'm not avoiding you." he scowled, believing that would help sell his excuse.

it was your turn to scoff (and he must've noticed how you were so much more expressive around him. how could he not?) "if that's true, then why have you not been to the botanical garden? why have we not had our common banters and conversations? why do you have ruggie send me away with ridiculous excuses? what could possibly excuse this as anything but you avoiding me?"

you waited, expecting an answer from the lion. but leona could say nothing, he couldn't find an excuse that would make sense with his behavior. he was avoiding you; it was that simple.

you sighed, expression relaxing back into its usual monotonous state, finally tearing your eyes away from his. you were quiet as you stared off to the side, and leona still found himself unable to say anything. (did this mean you still held the same feelings for him? had he not driven you away?)

"reject me."

what?

"what?" leona asked, almost harshly.

you looked back at him, head tilting as you repeated your words, "reject me and i'll leave you alone. i'd feel better if you rejected me now, to my face, then continue to avoid me. reject me." you were stern and stoic as you spoke, but leona still noticed how you clenched your dorm uniform in your fists, and how your eyes were staring to gloss the more you spoke. "tell me my feelings are unrequited. that the flowers were thrown away and that you didn't enjoy the time we spent in the botanical garden. reject me."

leona knew it wasn't fair for him to feel angry at your words. he's the reason you're standing in front of him, asking the prince to reject you since that did seem to be the impression he gave after avoiding you for so long. yet he couldn't help but glare at you, who remained unwavering as you stared right back at him, eyes glossed with unshed tears the longer you waited.

leona knew he shouldn't find you so wonderful to look at, even as the air around you was thick in tension and the tightness in your chests were unknowingly shared between the two of you. you always managed to look amazing to him, even now, and even when you were covered in dirt after tending to the botanical garden.

he shifted in place and your eyes caught sight of familiar colors almost hidden behind the rectangular lamp on his desk. blue salvia, white carnation, and red chrysanthemum.

you sighed, relieved as you met his eyes again. yet more firm in your next words. "you can't, can you?"

"why are you even here?" leona couldn't help but ask, scowling at you (fake, you could tell).

"because i love you." you answered, simple and straightforward, like the red chrysanthemum. leona faltered in his persona, the forced scowl on his face turning into that of a frown, ears twitching as he searched your face. (for what, he didn't know.) you shook your head, eyes flickering between his own, frowning at him in return, "have you really not realized that? i love you ━ even after you've avoided me. i don't think my feelings even faltered. they're stronger now."

you raised a hand towards his face, but paused, "i was scared, you know?" leona glanced between you and your hand, the unfamiliar racing of his heart so loud he wondered if you heard it. "i thought we wouldn't be able to save you. i though i'd lose you."

your hand was on his face now, fingers gentle as you traced his cheek, and leona had to refrain from leaning into you. this was new. the feelings you stirred in him was new, but he didn't reject it; he couldn't, not when he began to rely on them while he was avoiding you.

"please, leona," you said, rather softly, expression gentle compared to the monotone expression you always carried around anyone else. "let me love you."

leona knows he's fallen in love with the boy from the garden, and he knows now, that he loves him too.

pt2. i actually really like how this turned out although this wasn't exatly my vision lol.

i think leona is a neat character to write for. he's seen as lazy and prideful (and yeah, he is) but a lot of the time, people fail to realize that that isn't his whole person.

he's the second born in a royal family, and that itself is reason enough to not be the biggest fan of his status. the second is always seen as second best because their older sibling, is well, older. they're the one taking the throne and what is the second born going to do? nothing, because they can't have the throne after the first born, that goes to the first's born child once they step down.

he spent his whole life being looked down on by the servants in his own kingdom because he just didn't fit up to expectations. he would hear everything, all the whispers and the insults, yet he did nothing except take it. and naturally that would make anyone feel insecure. i know i would if i was in his place; hearing people whisper about me being nothing compared to my older brother?? that's harsh, especially since he was still a child while hearing all this. what do you think all those harsh words will do to a child's psyche? absolutely destroy it.

so yeah, i think he's insecure. his entire life and talent is seen as second best; even in nrc when standing alongside the heir of briar alley he still isn't first. so of course, that would fuck with someone's already shaky psyche of viewing yourself as nothing more than second place. i also think this really plays into why he's still in nrc despite being intelligent and magically talented. riddle couldn't collar him because his magic was so strong and he's as cunning as he is smart so that begs the question why hasn't he graduated? i think it's because he doesn't want to go home any more than he already has to when it comes to holiday breaks or when cheka pays him visits. he'd rather stay in nrc, where he can keep up appearances and avoid hearing the whispers in the hall. (and plus, they already look down on him, what's failing a few years going to do? it can't get any worse.)

so when it comes to gaining romantic feelings for someone and someone gaining romantic feelings for him, i don't think he'd know what to do. in his mind he's second place, that's all he'll ever be, yet he entertains the thought of being someone's first choice. and when he is, he's unsure. can he really be someone's first choice? can he really be seen as anything more than the second-best category he spent his whole life in?

it's why i wrote the reader the way i did. he loves leona and he's willing to prove that to him by pushing past his own trauma to show leona that "yes, i love you. i pick you. i want you." and leona doesn't know how to react to this to confession so he chooses to avoid him, scared he's seen he's never someone's first and that the reader's feelings have changed. but when the reader shows up in front of him, showing a part of himself that he's never shown to anyone else and admitting to leona that his feelings haven't changed and he's still in love with him, probably even more despite leona avoiding him, leona has to accept that reader chose him, that he loves him.

in other words, i just think he's neat.

i'm done rambling now lol :")

do not repost, translate, copy or run my writing through an ai

#╰ ও ❝ fluff #╰ ও ❝ angst #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twst leona #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #x male reader #twst x male reader #twisted wonderland x male reader #leona kingscholar x male reader #leona x male reader

[arc-misadventures]

What are those: wallow decided to go to beacon academy with winter to go see how wiess is doing but instead meet with jaune

The Dragon’s Diamond

A small bullhead flew through the air towards, Beacon Academy. It was a privately owned airship that belonged to the, Schnee Dust Company, and right now it was carrying an assortment of precious cargo: The daughter of the founder of the, SDC, Willow Schnee. Her eldest child, Winter Schnee. And a locked cased filled with diamonds of various sizes, and quality. At least what they assumed were diamonds. For they had come here to see if they were in fact real diamonds.

Winter: I’m sorry mother, but I must protest; Why did you have to come along to handle this simple endeavour; you could have simply handed over your, and my diamonds to, Klein, and let him handle it. Why did you have to come along?

Willow: I needed a vacation. This seemed like a reasonable excuse why to do so. Besides, it also gives me an excuse to be around my daughters. Is there something wrong with me desiring to be with my family my dear?

Winter: …

Winter: No, no there isn’t anything wrong with that, it’s just unexpected is all.

Willow: I understand, but being away from home also keeps me away from drinking. I’ve managed to at least reduce the amount I’ve been drinking substantially, but being around your father long enough will lead me back to drowning myself in the bottle again. I cannot allow that to happen.

Winter: I… I’m sorry, I thought you chose to leave for different reasons.

Willow: Like trying fine, Valian wines?

Winter: Ahh! Yes… Yes I thought so.

Willow: Well, depending on what, and where we’re having dinner I wouldn’t mind a suitable wine to go along with it, but I have to stop drinking. Not so much for myself, but for you, your sister, and your brother. I… I want to stay a part of your lives, to see you grow old, and start families of your own in the future. It would be a shame if I am to deny myself these opportunities because I drank myself to death…

Winter: Thank you, Mother. Hearing you say that means a lot to me. But, if you want to give up drinking, why are you looking forward to having wine with your meal?

Willow: I’m slowly weaning myself off drinking. Not everyone can just go cold turkey now can they?

Winter: I would prefer it if you did.

Willow: Well, it would probably be for the best if I did, but… Oh, we’re here, let’s continue this discussion later, and find your sister.

Winter: Very well then, Mother.

As the ship landed the mother, and daughter duo grabbed their luggage, and made their way towards the academy. As they neared closer to the tower, Willow couldn’t help, but take in the sights around her.

Willow: Oh my… Beacon Academy is such a lovely place.

Winter: Yes, the warm breeze, and vibrant greenery give this place such a relaxing air to it.

Willow: I know, Weiss went to, Beacon to escape father in, Atlas. But, do you suppose this rich atmosphere contributed to it?

Winter: I believe it was more so her desire to escape, Father. But, this is a nice benefit.

Willow: I hope she is feeling happy here.

Winter: Me too.

Willow: But, where do you believe she is?

Winter: I have no idea, there should be an information desk up front we can ask.

Willow: Or, I suppose we could ask him if he knows where, Weiss is.

Winter: Who?

As they drew closer to the, Academy they saw the statue out front, and a student sitting on the base of the statue. They noticed that he was seemingly mumbling to himself as he ran his hands through his golden hair as he evaded the white horns poking out.

Winter: A faunas?

Willow: Excuse me, young man?

: Hmm, what? Oh, hello.

Willow: Hello. I was wondering if you could help us.

: With what?

Winter: We’re looking for my sister, Weiss Schnee, do you perchance know her?

: Weiss Schnee? Yeah, I know her, we’re friends after all.

Willow: Excellent, can you please lead us to her?

: Sure I can… I can…?! Hurk?!

His hand quickly came up to cover his mouth, seemingly trying to repress a gag. His luck failed him as he continued to dry heave until a he opened his mouth, and a belch of fire erupted from his mouth before he fell into a small coughing fit as small jets of flame escaping his mouth with each cough. As soon as his coughing fit ended he popped a small white marble into his mouth, before turning to address the duo.

: Jacques you cheap bastard! (Cough!) Ahem, sorry about that, upset stomach. Hehe…

The duo looked at him in stunned shock, taking a moment for themselves to collect themselves. Willow seemingly able to keep her wits about her.

Willow: A-Are you okay?

: Yeah, I’m fine.

Winter: But, you just belched fire?

: That’s a semi-common occurrence.

Willow: But…?!

Winter: Wait, Mother… Male, blue eyes, blond hair, horns, and can breath fire… You’re the, Dragon King, Jaune Arc, aren’t you?

Jaune: That’s me, well mostly. I’m not a king of any sorts, but I am a dragon faunas. Anyway, my name is, Jaune Arc, nice to meet you.

Jaune offered his hand for the pair to shake as they introduced themselves in kind.

Willow: Willow, Willow Schnee, it’s a pleasure to meet you.

Winter: Specialist Winter Schnee.

Jaune: So you’re, Weiss’s family? That explained the smells.

Winter: Smells?

Jaune: I have a highly, highly acute sense of smell. I can smell familiarity’s between people, to the point I can tell if someone is related to another.

Winter: That sounds like an impressive ability.

Jaune: It has its downsides… Like my little sister trying to use me as a bloodhound…

Willow: You said you are friends with my daughter, Mr. Arc, can you lead us to her?

Jaune: Uhhh… No, no I can’t. She went into, Vale with the rest of her team just a little while ago.

Winter: She did, why?

Jaune: I don’t know; I left to ‘throw up,’ and when I came back she, and her teammates had disappeared. My sister said that they had made an emergency trip to, Vale, and that was all there was to it. Do you want me to call her, and let her know you’re here?

Winter: No… Well, maybe we should.

Willow: Oh dear… I was hoping to surprise her with our sudden visit.

Jaune: You can still do that if you want.

Willow: We can, how?

Jaune: Weiss, and her teams room is just down the hall from my teams room. You can wait there until she arrives.

Winter: What do you think mother?

Willow: We might as well, this young man has graciously offered us his place to us while we wait for your sister to return. We won’t be in there for a few hours at most.

Winter: Very well, we graciously accept your kind offer, Mr. Arc.

Jaune: My pleasure, and please, just call me, Jaune.

Winter: Very well then, Jaune.

Jaune: Even if you rejected my offer you’d no doubt be taken to my room anyway so I could inspect those diamonds, and any other gemstones of yours. If there are any that is…

Winter: What are you talking about?

Jaune: Two things: Those are, Fortress grade safe-boxes, made by the, Gem Refinery. To which I own, I know my merchandise. Especially the safe-boxes…

Willow: Wait, you’re the owner of the, Gem Refinery?

Jaune: Yes, I am. Second I over heard, Weiss… screaming to her father on how she wanted her entire families precious jewels so they can be appraised. And, who is that appraiser, me: Jaune Arc, the Lapidary Master!

Willow: You’re the, Lapidary Master?!

Jaune: Yep!

Willow: I don’t believe you. You’re just a teenager, and you’re supposedly the worlds most renowned fine cut gem grader?

Jaune: Oh, just you wait, and see darling! Now then, lets go look at some pretty stones!

~~~

Jaune: Hmmmm…?

Jaune hummed in speculation as he examined a rather large diamond on a gold ring with a jewellers magnifier. Willow looked on in a chair besides him, while, Winter look on from his bed as, Jaune worked.

Willow: That was the engagement ring my husband gave me, he said it is one caret diamond ring.

Willow: …

Willow: It is a diamond ring… Right?

Jaune looked at, Willow, back to the ring, and then back to her. Their eyes stayed locked for a moment before he threw it into his mouth, and a hard crunching sound soon followed this action.

Willow’s face fell into her hands as she groaned in disbelief at what she had just witnessed, again.

Willow didn’t believe, Jaune when he started sorting her diamonds into two piles, one labeled real, and labeled fake. The ‘fake’ pile had grown considerably larger then the ‘real’ pile to the point she doubted he was actually genuinely grading her diamonds, and was trying to steal them. To prove his innocence, he grabbed a sizeable real diamond, and bit it. The sound it made was akin to bitting a jaw breaker: hard, and solid, as if one smacked their head against a wall.

Jaune, then grabbed one he deemed a ‘fake’ and bit into it. The sound was like someone bit into a hard candy, and wanted to chew it up, instead of sucking on it; Loud, and crunchy.

He made this a habit whenever she doubted his expertise, as a master gemologist. A habit she had come to dread because of the details that followed with it.

Luckily that was the second to last diamonf he needed to inspect, and she knew for certain that the last one wasn’t fake.

Willow: At least tell me the ring was made of gold?

Jaune spat out the piece of metal next to the pile of fakes, she grimaced as she looked at him as he regretfully smiled at her.

Jaune: Well… Pyrite, isn’t called ‘fools gold’ for nothing… hehe…

Willow: Gods dammit… My husband bought me a fake engagement ring?! How cheap of a man is he?!

Winter: More so then we could possibly believe…

Jaune: I doubt he was in this case.

Winter: What do you mean?

Jaune: Well… From what I’ve been told your father is a greedy whore. Uhh?! N-No offence.

Winter: None taken.

Willow: Please, feel free to continue badmouthing my husband at your leisure.

Jaune: Okay? Anyway, your husband is a greedy whore, from what I’ve seen. And, from what, Weiss has said about him is that he doesn’t commit to anything that doesn’t have a shiny price tag attached to it. I think he acquired these gemstones as a future investment. Liquid assets as you would put it.

Winter: That sounds like something father would do, but why would he buy fakes? My father is a greedy bastard, and will do everything to save a chip. He wouldn’t buy fake diamonds, there’s no value in that.

Jaune: Maybe he didn’t know he was buying fakes?

Winter: You believe someone swindled him?

Willow: It is a logically sound idea when you think about it.

Jaune: I’m well aware of several infamous gem pedlars. Give me a list of your sellers, and I could identify who is a legit seller, and who is not. Because there are some real ones here, so maybe he bought the fakes from one person, and the real ones from another.

Willow: I believe they were all acquired from one person, at least the vast majority were.

Jaune: And, that person’s name is?

Willow: Cartiff… Cartiff… Oh, I forget his first name.

Jaune: …

Jaune: It wouldn’t happen to be, Quintin now would it…?

Willow: Quintin… Yes, Quintin Cartiff, that was his name. How did you know?

Jaune: Quintin… Quintin Cartiff…

Willow: J-Jaune? Is everything okay…

Jaune: Quintin CARTIFF!!!

Winter immediately jumped in front of her mother pulling her mother back. Her hand stayed on her blade as she saw a truly terrifying sight. Within the space of a blink the calm, and happy boy revealed a monster of fire, and ash. His head realed upwards as he scream his name in a bloody rage. Winter got to see first hand the hidden fang he hide behind that warm, and inviting smile of his. The way his mouth shut, terrified her knowing full well he could bite down into someone in mere seconds, and could easily pierce through aura, and flesh like it was tissue paper. She marvelled at the sight of blue flames erupting from clenched fangs. The reports she had seen about the dragon faunas were fragmented, and vague, but even those brief insights paled in reality at the sight before her.

The flames, erupting from, Jaune’s teeth slowly fettered out as a finally deep exhale escaped his lips, he shook his head as if trying to shake off some sort of ill feeling upon him. He leaned back in his chair to look at the mother, daughter duo as he gave them a nervous, and embarrassed smile as he awkwardly scratched the back of his head.

Jaune: Ah haha… Sorry about that… I didn’t expect hearing his name to set me off like that… Hehehe… Sorry…

Willow: It seems you are well acquainted with this individual?

Jaune: As well as I would like to be. The bastard is an infamous counterfeiter, specializing in fake jewels. Particularly diamonds. I met him years ago after I just started out my… passion for collecting precious gemstones. He sold me some nice diamonds the first few times, but then he came back again, and the ‘diamonds’ he brought were all fakes. He denied it of course. Then I ate his ‘diamonds’ to prove to him that they were all fakes.

Willow: Oh, so eating fake diamonds is not a recent habit you’ve developed. I thought it was just for show.

Jaune: Well, yeah it kinda is. I mean what better way to prove if a diamond is a fake?

Winter: Do you often eat precious stones?

Jaune: No, I tend to eat, Dust more so then cubic zirconia, and the like. That’s why I was belching fire earlier, Weiss fead me some, SDC Dust that made me sick to my stomach. Jacques is such a cheap bastard…

Winter: Wait, you eat, Dust?!

Willow: And, what does my husband have to do with that?

Jaune: Okay, one box left to examine!

Jaune simply ignored the ladies questions as he took out the last box. It was a seven inch cube box covered in various locking mechanisms that, Jaune was quite intrigued on opening it himself. But, in the pursuit of time he just handed it over to, Willow who opened it herself. And, upon it’s opening, Jaune beheld a beautiful sight. The one diamond he had been hoping to see for ages.

The famous, Schnee Diamond.

The diamond was cut into an orb with a with a three diameter, roughly making it the same size as your average baseball. It shimmered, and sparkled like a star under the light of his desk lamp. He extended the talons on his hand as he picked it up, and inspected this prized jewel. Turning it over as he marvelled in its beauty.

Willow: …?

Willow: Do you like it, Mr. Arc?

Jaune: …

Willow: Do you like it, Jaune?

Jaune: …

Willow: Jaune!

Jaune: Huw? Oh yeah, It is such a marvellous diamond… I’ve been dreaming of seeing it, holding it within my hands to marvel in its splendour since I first saw photos of it, and I must say those photos do it no justice in its magnificent.

Winter: Are you sure it’s real?

Winter cheekily remarked as, Jaune was lost in the beauty of the diamond in his taloned fingers. Her smile fell as she heard the most beautiful ringing sound she had ever heard as he tapped the diamond with his talon before turning to face her.

Jaune: Hear that? Humans can’t here this sound, most faunas can’t hear it either, but I can. Most diamonds are too small to make this an audible sound for most people to hear it. But, this diamond is big enough for anyone to hear it singing. Only a real diamond can make such beautiful sounds.

Willow: It is such a beautiful sound, I had no idea such sounds can come from a diamond.

Jaune: Only a few bare such elegance… Oh I wish I could have this diamond for myself… But alas, I doubt your open to selling it. Are you…?

Willow: If I was… Hypothetically speaking, how much would it be…?!

Jaune: Three billion Lien.

The duo looked at him astonished at the thought that, that diamond was worth, Three Billion Lein. The sense of unquestionable authority as he stated this didn’t make them question the possibility that he was gaslighting them so he could get it for a fraction of the price.

Willow: Oh my… I… I did not expect that…

Jaune: Didn’t you have it graded before?

Willow: Decades ago, and back then it was nearly a billion lien. But, to imagine the price has gone up that much… it’s unbelievable…

Jaune: It would be the worlds most valuable diamond, but that title was taken away from it a few years back.

Winter: Oh really? What took it’s place?

Jaune: This…

As if appearing from thin air, Jaune held out before the duo a diamond; A diamond cut into a sphere with a diameter of five inches across. Winter’s breath was stolen away as, Willow at the beauty presented before her. She carefully took it from him, fearing the validity of the rumours that he would gut her if she touched it. But, it appeared as if he was offering it to her to hold, so she took it.

She was amazed by its hefty weight, as she saw the light sparkle across it surface. She was amazed when her father showed her the, Schnee diamond, but the splendour of this diamond put it to shame so thoroughly she couldn’t find it in herself to complain about it in the slightest.

Willow: The Translucent Apple… Oh she is absolutely gorgeous~!

Winter: You’re the owner of the world’s largest diamond…?! That makes sense because you’re such a gemstone lover… But wait, where did you pull that out from? Do you just keep it hidden on your person at all times.

Jaune: Not in the shower.

Winter: What?!

Willow: It is truly a marvellous diamond. It was an honour to hold it. Winter, do you perhaps?

Winter: Nnnno, no I wouldn’t. If our family’s diamond is worth three billion, it terrifies me to hold something worth…

Jaune: Five billion Lien.

Winter: Five billion Lien… Wait, what really?!

Jaune: I am not considered one of the richest men in the world for nothing.

Winter: Five billion… And, he just has that up his coats sleeves?!

Willow: Well, it was a pleasure, despite the sheer disappointment of it all, no fault upon you, Jaune. I thank you for grading our families diamonds, and other precious stones.

Jaune: My pleasure… If you want, I can set you up with a jeweller from my company. I can confirm whole heartedly their validity as the genuine article.

Willow: I would appreciate that very much. But, there is something I would like to ask you…

Jaune: That being?

Willow: I heard you were offered gemstones as a dowery of sorts… Does that offer still stand?

Jaune’s burning focus of ingraining the beauty of the, Schnee Diamond upon his mind had finally been broken. Not even offering up the, Translucent Apple for, Willow to marvel at had broken his singular concentration of the diamond within his talon fingers. But, that one question broke him from his stupor like a gunshot to the heart. For he knew all to well what the dowery for this proposal would be.

Jaune: A-Are you offering me this diamond for your daughters hand…?

Willow: Indeed I am.

Winter: Mother no!

Winter exclaimed in shock as she looked at her mother as if she had lost her sanity. And, worry as, Jaune eyed the diamond with a new burning intensity trapped deep within the very depths of his soul.

Jaune: This… This is a priceless family heirloom, you wouldn’t simply give it away for me to accept, Weiss’s hand in marriage would you?

Willow: The diamond would still be in the hands of a, Schnee if you married my daughter, so it wouldn’t be lost. And, I never said anything about you marrying, Weiss now did I?

Willow looked to her eldest child with a smile as, Winter’s voice failed her. She was dumbfounded that this conversation had taken such a drastic turn. Was her mother seriously offering up the family’s prized heirloom for her hand in marriage?!

It was unthinkable. That her mother would do this to her on seemingly a whim. It scared her. But, what truly terrified her was the deafening silence that followed as, Jaune looked between her, and the diamond.

At her, and the diamond.

At her, and the diamond.

At her, and the diamond.

And, then at her, and only her.

Winter gulped in fear at the sudden turn her life was about to make.

#rwby #jaune arc #weiss schnee #willow schnee #winter schnee #jacques schnee #rwby klien

[rntoshi]

͏ ͏🔊 gepard landau (n): i caught feelings for a stripper.

/ • geppie makes his mother proud & spends his birthday at a gentleman’s club for the first time. he’s awkwardly charming.

similar: f reader, exotic dancer!reader, nudity, pining, 1.5k.

This wasn’t Gepard’s scene, anyone could tell simply by taking a look at his body language: tense shoulders, a firm hand on the glass that currently adorned a whiskey on the rocks, and an everlasting flush on his cheeks. Not from the alcohol but from the same he felt being in such a lewd place like this. His saccharine orbs seem so… bright and innocent compared to others. There’s almost a child-like wonder about him, something about him that feels incredibly naive— and yet it carries one of the biggest responsibilities in Belobog as the Silvermane Captain. It’s quite the paradox. The beloved Captain can lead thousands of men into war with monsters who have strength greater than any man, and yet here he is with sweat on the arch of his brow because he cannot look at the half nude women sashaying around him in the eye. Clumsy and awkward he is, like a golden retriever puppy.

But despite the shy protests that left his strawberry dusted, plump lips as his peers practically dragged him into the gentleman’s club— she had caught his eye.

The way he looks at her— it's taboo to say really but it's comparable to how a believer would look at an angel for the first time. Gepard doesn’t know what’s come over him but he cannot stop staring at the graceful beauty that was her body, angelic and dainty features that made up the composition of her face. God, it isn’t polite to stare— his mother and sister taught him well enough to know how to treat and respect women but here he was, ogling at the sweet faced angel on stage. With mouth slightly agape as he does so, he can’t help but to wonder about her. Who she was, where she came from..

It was amazing really; how she lured him in with only a mere glance and even then, who could have known that she had actually held eye contact with him and not someone else. Gepard found himself wanting to believe she looked at him. It would… make him feel special if she did. Ah, how silly was this predicament? Already finding himself getting wound up and thinking silly thoughts over a woman who he didn’t know, especially in a setting like this. Little did he know, his dear friends very well noticed how much of a liking he took to her— quickly finding her once she’d been done with her stage to ask if she’d been willing to grace their Captain with some one on one time. Of course, handing her a generous amount of cash before directing her to where Gepard had been blundering off.

“He’s cute..” She thinks to herself, watching him mindlessly fiddle with a slot machine in one of the more quiet corners of the venue.

Gepard would have never thought in a million years he’d ever find himself in a position such as this. Now looking directly down into her eyes as she looked up at him, painfully aware of her dainty hand reaching for his own.

“I hear you’re the birthday boy tonight.” She smiles as she takes his hand into her own— taking note of how long he stares at their now interlocked hands before he looks back at her. The blush on his cheeks was endearing to say the least.

“Yes,” He says. It’s simple and to the point, he has no clue what to say or do. It’s no real secret that he doesn’t have much experience talking to women with the exception of his family and coworkers— never in a remotely intimate setting. 

“Come on,” (Name) says softly as she gently guides him towards where the private rooms were. “Follow me, sweet face.”

“Do you.. do this often?” Gepard’s eyes very leave her own despite how she slowly slides off the straps of her bra— her hips moving in a hypnotic pattern to the sensual beat of the music as she does so. She’s beautiful but it's the kind of beauty that strikes someone in awe, a divine feminity that lures men, women and children alike.

“Do what?” There’s a small grin playing on her lips as she challenges him, she’s clearly amused and quite curious about how he’ll word his next choice of words. (Name) is fully aware of what he’s trying to get at, but she’s having too much fun seeing him squirm.

“…” Gepard looks embarrassed, almost like he doesn’t want to say the wrong thing or something offensive. It’s cute, really. She’ll save him the trouble though and stop giving him a little grief.

“Yes, I do.” (Name) answers. “Most nights.”

“I see..” Geprard trails off, averting his eyes from hers for a moment. He just can’t seem to bring himself to say it. “You’re beautiful.” It’s at the tip of his tongue threatening to spill like the most intense case of word vomit— it's simple enough so why can’t he tell her? It feels like some form of stage fright with the way he just freezes. There’s so much going through his mind and nothing at all, all at the same time.

(Name) finds herself sitting in his lap with her back facing him as she skillfully grinds her hips into his while she unclasped her frilly bra from behind. She’s quick to discard the garment with a little toss in front of her, smiling as she noticed how tightly he was grabbing the sides of the velvet couch from her peripherals.

“You can touch me, you know.” A soft smile graces her glossy lips as she gently grabs a hold of his wrists, placing his hands on the skin of her hips. “Are you comfortable with that?” Her voice is akin to a chirp— a short and high pitch cadence that’s sweet to the ears.

“Yes,” His replies are dry and he’s aware of that but more importantly, she doesn’t seem to mind much to his relief. It’s not that he’s trying to be curt— he’s just nervous. He’d be relieved to know that his replies being dry are the last thing of her worries. In fact, she thinks that he’s quite polite which is a rare commodity working in this industry. Not to mention, he’s very attractive— which is another luxury within itself. 

“Are.. are you okay with this?” He asks, his brows raising slightly. Despite her initiative, he didn’t want her to feel like she was obligated to do anything she didn’t want to do or felt like she had to do. Gepard had a heart of gold and it showed itself through not only his actions but his way of thinking.

“Of course.” God, she’s sweet— he felt his heart jumping out of his chest. Is this what the guys called “whipped?” No, no, that’s far more outdated. He believes they’re saying “simping” now. How odd.

“I apologize… my palms are quite sweaty.” Gepard says.

“Nervous?” (Name) looks over her shoulder at him for a moment.

“Mm.” He nods his head a single time to confirm before she speaks again,

“We can always have a conversation, if that’ll help ease your mind.” She suggests, now turning around to straddle his waist, pressing her bare chest against him. They meet eyes and there’s a small moment of silence as they look at each other— he seems as though he’s trying to figure out what to say all while in some sort of dream gaze while she has that little smile on her lips. Her head is tilted slightly as her hands rest on the broadness of his shoulders.

“What’s your name?” He asks. The question is sudden enough to elicit an interesting reaction from her— his brows furrowed in a confused little furrow as he hears her delightful giggle. She seems surprised at his question but he’s not sure why or what’s so funny about the question. It’s definitely forward, she’d give him that.

“It’s (Stage Name).” She answers— it’s not a lie but it's almost like she’s certain that it’s not the answer he wanted to hear. 

“No..” He says, a soft discontentment behind his tone. “Your real name..” Gepard’s eyes look as if they’re pleading, eager to know the name of the woman responsible for the heart pounding against his ribcage.

Poor thing, he’s not quite aware that stage name’s are in place for a reason but she holds no ill reaction when he presses. Maybe she feels intrigued herself, not fully opposed to the handsome stranger knowing her real name. There’s something about him that she’s attracted to— perhaps it's his awkwardness. It’s oddly charming.

Gepard always found himself predicting that he’d marry a nice girl from Overworld when the time permitted— maybe he’d meet her at the flower shop or a cafe and they would hit it off. One date leads to two and two leads to three— a beautiful relationship blossoming like tulips during the first sign of Spring. Interesting how things seem to play out, especially now as he’s developing a very real crush on a stripper from the Underworld. Jesus, what would mother think?

“Looks like our time’s up, blondie.” (Name) whispers against the lobe of his ear. “Visit me often, okay?”

© rntoshi 2023. do not modify or repost.

#┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° bria writes! #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai x reader #hsr x reader #gepard landau #gepard x reader #gepard landau x reader #hoyoverse #honkai smut #honkai star rail smut #hsr smut #gepard smut #gepard landau smut #honkai #gepard

[wonder-mei]

Letting Life Lead (MK1 Bi-han)

Author's note; reminder this is not lore accurate to the Mortal Kombat universe. I write because they're hot. I also do not have a beta reader or I read my fanfic from top to bottom to see any errors. I'm lazy okay.

Being the oldest son of the grandmaster of Lin Kuei has a lot of responsibility to be done for the expectations from the others has on Bi-han. He learns everything he needs to know; war strategies, martial arts, mastering his cryomancer and having good communications with other clans. 

Bi-han has achieved all of them but there is one expectation he has not; having a family. He never thought about being married nor even having children of his own. His younger brother, Kuai Liang can do that for the lineage. But his father told his sons everyone has the opportunity to have families. Bi-han told his father it is unnecessary for him because he never talks to any women or has any interest in them. So his father arranged him with another clan nearby.

Of course an age as old as him will get arranged with someone much younger. Bi-han stares at the clan sitting in the dining area having bonds together. His future wife's face was hidden with a silk covering her face. 

“There’s my son,Bi-han. Come. Sit in front of your future wife” his father calls him with his hand gesturing to an empty chair in front of her. He saw she took a quick glance at him. Bi-han sits in the chair in silence. His father does every talk, and he won’t admit he’s feeling nervous with this arrangement. 

They all eat when the food is served. Her parents praised the food and his father gladly took the compliments. She still eats with the silk on her face. His eyes then saw she’s wearing red lipstick underneath. The feast took around one hour to end with the dessert. 

“Why don’t you take her walking around?” 

Bi-han looks at his father and huffs. He stands up leaving the room not waiting for her at all. It’s too foreign to him;having someone. 

Her mother told her to follow Bi-han and she did. Her soft and timid footstep follows Bi-han behind to the backyard. It was the spring season. The magnolia trees in Lin Kuei clan delicate petals unfurl in the gentle spring breeze, the air is suffused with a sweet fragrance, enchanting the senses and bringing everyone into a serene state. 

She just follows him wherever he leads him but then her footstep stops. Bi-han turns around to see her staring at a swing under the biggest magnolia tree in the area. He walks towards her, her gaze flickered towards Bi-han getting near to her but she shyly looks back on the swing. 

The unexpected gentleness of his gesture made her in disbelief, leaving her momentarily stunned. Bi-han sweeps the leaves and flowers on the swing for her. Her eyes finally looked at him. Her eyes sent him into tranquillity.He was left speechless by her eyes, full of admiration and tenderness, reflecting the depth of her feelings without ever saying a word.

She sits on the swing and brings her legs back and forth swaying in the air as she pleas. Her hair dances with the wind and her dress flutters beautifully. Bi-han watches her with admiration but then he stops her swinging. 

Her eyes looked at him directly again, sending him another wave of electric. His hand touches the silk that has been covering her face. Bi-han looks for any sign of protest or discomfort but she shows none, her eyes showing willingness instead. 

As the silk fell from her face. The beauty only from her eyes expands more. She is a deity that fell from the sky for him. A gift from the elder gods for him. Each magnolia patel twirls around them both as they gaze on each other. Bi-han shakingly takes a beautiful golden hairpin with pink flowers from her pocket. She sees it and bows down letting him wear it on her. 

His hands cannot stop shaking from the nervousness he’s having. He’s afraid he would pull her hair too much or pierce the hairpin into her skull but she patiently awaits him. His fingers caress her scalp gently, not ruining her hair. Bi-han places the hairpin in her hair. She raises her head up facing back to him,the hairpin suits her features so perfectly. He returns her smile and holds her hand leading back to where their families are.

The two clans smile widely seeing them holding hands with smiles carved on their faces. The hairpin he gave to her is the answer they all pray for, she accepts the marriage. For once in Bi-han’s life, the universe is leading him to somewhere he never expected. And for now on, he let life lead him which he knows will be perfect as it is already perfect right now.

----

A/N: Got this idea from a Turkish drama scene on tiktok so i was inspired by it. If you have any request,do tell. I don't have anymore ideas to write or it will take me awhile to post. Please request for me to expand my writing skills and boredom.

#mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat #bi han x reader #sub zero x reader #sub zero #bi han mk

[alwritey-aphrodite]

#17 with Jaime tartt pls ❤️

2023 Summer Blurbs

The heatwave in London was no joke. Sure, you’d grown up with hot, humid summers but there was something different about experiencing heat in London that made it ten times more unbearable. Maybe it was because there was limited air conditioning, or maybe it was because you needed to spend the heatwave with the biggest drama queen you’d ever met.

“I think I’m melting,” Jamie declares as he flops back onto the couch, shirtless and with wet hair. He’d just come from the cold pool in the backyard and into the air conditioning, but apparently the twenty steps from pool to couch was the longest distance he’d ever had to walk.

Jamie was tough, willing to play through serious injuries and ignore his emotional struggles until he reached his breaking point, but when he knew you’d always humor him, he really turned up the drama. He’d pout at you until you kissed his forehead when he was feeling sick and would look like a kicked puppy whenever you tried to leave the bed, only to grin at you when you decided to stay for a few more minutes.

Suddenly, Jamie shot straight off the couch and turned to you with a wide grin, “Stay right here.”

“I wasn’t planning on leaving,” you tell him, confused and craning your neck to try and see where he’d run off to. You can hear him opening the freezer and rummaging around inside it before the door slams closed and he comes racing back to the couch.

He’s got a giant grin on his face and looks beyond pleased with himself, and when he reveals what he’d run off for your heart just about stops. He’s holding a box of popsicles, the very same kind your mother used to buy during the summers of your childhood, the very same kind you’d mentioned once to Jamie that you’d missed.

“Where the hell did you find these?” You ask in awe, hands greedily tearing open the packaging and searching for your favorite flavor.

“Just found ‘em,” he shrugs, “Remembered you’d mentioned something about ‘em before.” And you can tell he’s lying for the way he avoids your eyes but you don’t care because he’d gone out of his way to get you a little taste of home.

“C’mon,” you tell him, holding out your hand for him to take with the popsicle sticky in your other. You lead Jamie outside, ignoring his protests and sliding the door open before sitting on the steps that lead to your pool. Despite complaining, Jamie sits next to you and grabs a popsicle of his own, and his little hum of delight makes you prouder than you should be, proud that he likes something you’d loved so fiercely.

The two of you sit there and laugh as the popsicles melt down your arms, creating sticky pools of sugary juice on the stairs. The air doesn’t feel so hot now, it seems almost bearable as you swat at Jamie’s shoulder as he tries to lick the melted popsicle from your arm. The heat’s really not so bad when you’re laughing with your favorite person.

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt fic #jamie tartt fluff #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfiction #2023 summer blurbs

[theship-thewalrus]

An older Alicent Hightower and Targaryen reader. Like she's on the greens side. It's cute like she gets Alicent to meet her dragon or something cute. There like together in secret though.

Hi Anon! This is my first time writing for Alicent so I hope it is up to par. I hope this is what you have been looking for :)

alicent hightower x targaryen! female! reader

pretty much the ask

word count: 706 words reading time: about 4 minutes warnings: nothing :)

"Hush, my love. Less you wish for someone to catch us." Your warning words come out in a firm whisper, knowing you both needed to be next to silent if you wished to get away with this. It seemed people are starting to become suspicious of your meetings. They saw the looks you sent to each other from across the room. How Alicent sort you out in events, despite having a Husband. how close you were to her children, as though you were a second mother.

It was by her request your relationship was kept a secret. If you had it your way, the pair of you would be found kissing in the halls. For everyone in the Red Keep to know she was yours and you were hers. But you respected her wishes, you knew it was to keep her family image. To not endanger herself or you, yet it did not stop your desires.

"I know, I am just nervous. I have never been down here before." Alicent clung to your side, hand interlocked with your own as you lead the way. The torch in your free had only provided a little bit of light to show the way. A small smile appeared on your face at her nervousness. "Do not worry, my love. I won't allow Cannibal to eat you. Besides, you're not his usual preferred food." Your jest with her, but it seemed to only worry her more. Her eyes widened as he looked up at you.

"Do not joke about that," she smacks your arm lightly, yet clung to you more. You enjoyed having her so close, even if it was because she was scared. It was not often you could have her in your arms, you truly wished you could share a bed with her. Instead of simply having a few moments in the halls or empty rooms.

It was not long until you arrived where he was kept, since it was the night you expected him to asleep. Yet the beast's large, green eyes narrow in on you and Alicent, something that made her squeak out. Its large head lifted from the ground, moving closer to the pair of you. It let out a huff of hot smoke at the pair of you, Alicent practically hiding behind you. Cannibal's reputation was well known. Even Alicent, someone who had no interest in Dragons, knew of it. Something that only added to her worry and fear.

"Hello, my handsome boy," Your voice was soft as you spoke to the creature. As though it was not a large murderous beast, but instead some small cat. Dropping the torch you knew you did not need it anymore, holding out your hand you awaited for Cannibal to draw near. You knew you needed to respect the dragon's space, less you wished to anger him. That was certainly the last thing you wished to do, especially when it could put Alicent in danger.

But the beast seemed to be in a good mood as its snot pressed against your hand. His eyes closed for a moment as you rubbed his nose softly. Alicent was stunned by the connection you had with the murderous beast. It could eat you both in a single breath, before ripping apart the Dragon Pit and eating the others in here.

"Come here." Pulling Alicent from behind you, despite her protests, you brought her to your side. The woman was trembling in fear, yet she trusted you with her life. Knowing you would never do anything that would intentionally put her in harm's way. Using your free hand you take Alicent's hand in your own. "Would you like to pet him?" You dip your head down to whisper in her ear, a grin on your face. The woman was silent but nodded softly.

Moving her hand you slipped it under the one that rested on Cannibal, the dragon noticed the different touch. His eyes opened to inspect the new feelings. For a moment you both feared he would have a bad reaction, but he simply eyed you both before closing them once more. "I knew he liked you and how could he not? You are the best, my love."

#alicent hightower x reader #alicent x reader #alicent hightower imagines #alicent imagines #house of the dragon x reader #hotd x reader #hotd imagines #house of the dragon imagines

[iloveaustinelvisandmannymore]

Blame.

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Warning: INCEST! INCEST CHILD! Tia being a little brat, Favoritism, Sisters/mother & daughter dynamic, Make-up sex, Shower sex, Oral (Fem & male receiving) Multiple orgasms, Apologizing gifts, Creampie and Cum shots, Squirting ( the reader's 28 and Elvis is 50).

Summary: Tia broke one of Elvis's favorite vases which was his mother's, unfortunately, you showed up at the wrong time and tia blames you like she always does and you are sick of it.

You smiled feeling your husband kiss your neck and snuggle you into his chest "Wake up princess and give your Daddy some sugar." he whispered in his morning voice, you very much wanted to but you had your duties, and he did as well "You know we can't. Now let me up so I can make breakfast." you giggled and wiggled free for his grasp, playfully roll your eyes at his weak protests. You walked into your bathroom to start your daily morning routine, Elvis groans, and fellows you on his way around you to his side he slapped and groped your ass cussing a yelp out of you. He smirked as he began to brush his teeth pretending he didn't see your cute glare.

You huffed with a smile and got dressed to make breakfast for your daughter and your handsomely-cute Daddy.

You were cooking waffles, eggs, ham, and hash browns with a fruit bowl and drinks were orange juice or water if they wanted some. "That smells wonderful, darlin'." Elvis moaned, his ringed hands on your waist and chest to your back, gently swinging you both from side to side. "So beautiful, 'm so lucky." he kissed your shoulder "Yeah?" you whisper "Goddamn right." he turned your head to the side and kissed you with a deep passion.

The kiss continued until a small southern accent called out "Eww Mama! Daddy!" she squeaked "Hush now, I can give a little lovin' to your sister." Elvis said sternly, he gave your ass one more smack, and with Tia took his seat.

"Y'all be good girls ya hear?" Elvis looked between his two little girls, ready to leave for the Studio "Yes, Daddy." "Yes, Handsome," you both answered Elvis, smiled, and bends down to kiss his littlest daughter's cheek before dipping you into a kiss leaving your cheeks hot. You both wave goodbye to him and shut the front door of Graceland "let's go baby." you lead her to the living room, sat down, and began her first lesson of the day.

You were picking up and organizing Tia's pencils and papers when you heard a loud crash upstairs "Tia?" you yelled rushing to the sound, scared that something happened to your baby, you paused staring down at Elvis's favorite vase with only one thought 'fuccck' you were into much shook to hear the front door open but Tia did "Daddy!" She shouted "Mama broke it! She was messing around with it and it broke!" she exclaimed pointing at you and looking at Elvis with teary eyes all before you could turn around and explain.

Elvis enraged glaze met your pleading one, hoping he wouldn't believe her again "Is this true?" he asked "What? N-no—" you stuttered "So ya saying your sister is lying?" Elvis hissed. You couldn't believe it. He was taking her side again! "I can't believe you! Do you think I would?! Before Tia, I did not touch anything you said not to play with and you'd think I start now?! So you gonna believe I broke your favorite sunglasses? Spiled marker ink on your favorite white suit?! Because Tia is succh an angel and your wife is to blame for everything! Fuck you. Dad. " you snapped storming to your bedroom.

Elvis addresses Tia "is it true all those times it was you?" "Yes, daddy.." She nodded looking at her tiny shoes "Go to your room I'll deal with ya later." Elvis pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh "Yes daddy." once Tia headed to her room Elvis strolled to his and your bedroom, Normally you'd lay on your side of the bed when you're upset but at the noise of running water he knew just where you are, He walked into the bathroom, the glass was fogged but he could still see your outline and without saying a word Elvis strip himself of his clothes and step in behind you.

Elvis hugged you, the water from the shower head covered your bodies, hot water ran down Elvis's chest making the hair on his chest lay flat, his jet black hair grows longer and his back muscles shined from the water "I'm sorry little mama." he rests his forehead against the back of your head, his arms around you "I should've believed ya, you're not just my daughter but the love of my life, my wife." you said nothing "Let me show you." Elvis kissed your back down to your spine to both of your butt cheeks, he turn you to him and lifted your leg over his left shoulder, and his soft and loving kisses continue up your leg to your warm pussy, he dragged his tongue between your folds and he swirls it around your clit before he sucked it into his hot wet mouth, his hand messages both of your sweet thighs, his harsh sucks were almost too much but you won't show reaction well that was the plan until his tongue shoved itself into your pussy and he shakes his head, his nose rubbed against your clitoris his mouth slurred up your juices, you let muffled cries as you come around his tongue, licking you clean he stands back up, turned off the water, moved the shower curtain and picked you off your feet.

You shivered as the cold air of your room bites at your wet skin, as much as you hate to admit it, your arousal dripped out of you when Elvis laid you on the bed. Elvis took a moment to admire you, Goddamn you were gorgeous, pulling you into a burning hot kiss he slowly inches inside your already sensitive cunt, your hands digging into his back as your tongues fought for dominance "Move." you order monotone against his lips, you still refuse to give the satisfaction. Elvis did just that, his hips set a passionate yet hard pace as his lips trailed across your neck and shoulder "Daddy's sorry lil mama." he whispered into your ear with a hard thrust forcing a gasp out of you, elvis leaned back, and throw your legs over his shoulder, you had to bit your lip to stop from moaning as he hit your cervix "Please let me hear ya." he begged, pounding slowly which you just shook your head, only to betray yourself as he began to hammer into you as he'd never do it again, you moaned loudly and arch your back "That's right. Let me hear ya." he granted, sweat gracing his tan skin, pants left him, he can never get tired of fucking you.

You squealed, reaching your climax, squirting onto Elvis and the bed, making a complete mass. you and Elvis showered together after he called one of the maids to change your bed, luckily she was quick, but you still didn't say that you forgive Elvis for what he had done, in fact, you took a nap and kicked out of the room, giving he an idea how to apologize since sex didn't work. Letting you sleep and getting Jerry to watch over Tia, He got you three diamond necklaces, a beautiful bouquet of pink, white, and purple colored roses, and candy with a bottle of wine. " Darlin'," Elvis spoke softly while he gently shook you awake "What?" you groaned tubing your tired eyes but tried not to smile once you saw the gifts Elvis brought as much as you wish you couldn't stay mad at him for long you,"'m sorry, please please forgive me," he asked one more, "One one condition. You better believe me when I tell you if Tia did something ok?" you spoke sternly "Promise," he replied, placing a kiss on your hand "I guess I should reward you huh?" you smirked and got off the bed, onto your knees between Elvis's parted legs.

"Darlin?" he questioned, his hand on your head as you begin to undo his lavish belt "Want to taste you daddy." you looked up at him with puppy eyes, tugging at the waist of his pants, "God fucking damn it." He murmured, hastily taking off his pants and his cock slaps against his belly, a small ball of pre-cum stood prettily on his tip, you licked it off, moaning at the salty taste before taking all of him down your throat with practice ease causing him to gasp and grip the blanket like it was his lifeline, once you were sure his whole member was coated in your saliva you began to lick at his tip like the tastiest lollipop as you jerking his cock and playing with his balls. Suddenly Elvis pushed you all the down causing you to squeeze his balls in shock "That's it mama" he groaned throwing his head back, trying his hardest not to cum but that fail when you sucked particularly hard "Fuck!" he nearly shouted coming into your mouth, keeping you right where you are to make sure you swallowed every last drop. He pulled you into a kiss, tasting himself on your tongue "I love you, baby." you smiled "I love you too." you replied.

Taglist: @plasticfantasticl0ver @kendralavon7 @galaxygirl453 @18lkpeters.

#elvis imagine #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis smut #elvis 2022 #yandere!elvis x reader #elvis x y/n #yandere elvis #elvis the king #tw:incest

[babybluebex]

Bex!! Bex I beg of you to write more priest!Jamie and his little lamb, I'm thinking maybe they're getting farther into their relationship, they might get married close (idk how catholicism works on that), maybe it's their wedding night or he proposed and she worships him as her god? - @this-was-bad-sorry

YES darling, sorry for this taking so long to come out but omg i love these two cw oral f!recieving, overstim, religious themes, power imbalance, jamie's god complex is... intense lol | series masterlist

The hickies faded after three days, and Jamie proposed on Friday morning. 

You hardly saw him at all in the days leading up to Friday, as was your mother’s doing. She heavily protested you and Jamie’s relationship, and all but forbid you from seeing him again, and you had put your foot down and declared that nothing could stop you. “I’m an adult, and I can make my own decisions!” you said. “And Jamie is kind and thoughtful, and he’s— He’s a man of God, he wouldn’t do anything bad to me!”

“Then what about those marks on your neck?” she asked. “If he didn’t make them, then what happened? You walked into a private meeting with him looking normal, then walked out looking like— Like— Like a whore!” 

Anger flashed in your chest. There was no defending what you and Jamie had done, because even you knew that premarital sex went against the church’s teachings, and there was no hiding it; when you had gotten home, you saw just exactly what he had done, marks on your neck and your messy hair and walking a bit uneven on shaky legs. It was obvious that he had fucked you, but you could do without the shame from your mother. “Mom,” you started. “I’m not gonna fight with you on this. He knows what he’s doing, and, if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have started anything with me.” 

“And what happens when you leave on Friday?” she asked. “You go back to college and leave him here, and suddenly you’re just some girl that he committed a sin with that lives three hours away.” 

“I told you, he knows what he’s doing,” you said, and you sincerely hoped that Jamie did know what he was doing. 

Dinner that night with him was nice. It was just at his home, a small parsonage that was connected to the back of the church, a building that hardly looked like anything at all, even with the stovetop and bathtub and mattress set on the floor. “Only just moved in, you see,” he explained. “I haven’t had time to go into the big city and buy a bed frame or much of anything.”

“That’s alright,” you had told him. “I think it’s lovely.” 

He made you pray to him again, but this time was different. He kissed down your body, undressing you as he went, and his long, slender fingers caught in your panties once he had ridded you of your dress. “I’ve done bad things, lamb,” he whispered, shaking his head lightly. “Terrible things.” 

“Like what?” you asked softly. “Tell me, my God.” 

Jamie’s baby blues lifted to look at you, and he pressed a kiss to your cunt, still covered by the thin fabric. You had long since soaked them through, and Jamie worked them down your thighs as he whispered, “I’ve lied to people. I’ve been so dishonest. I act like I’m so holy, so much better than everyone else, but I’m not.”

“But you are,” you said quickly. 

“But I’m not,” he insisted. “I’m just like everyone else, but still I act like I’m better just because I found God. Everyone in the church found God, that’s why they’re there. How does that make me different or special?” 

“It makes you different,” you started. “Because you had lost God, and you found Him again. And you help lead people to God, like me. You led me to you.”

Jamie kissed your cunt again, and he settled his mouth over you and licked hard into you. You had gasped and grabbed at his hair, and Jamie had smiled into you and tasted you again. “On my knees for you,” he whispered. “Worshipping you, just the way I should. If I’m your God, you’re mine.” 

You had cried out both of his names as he tasted you and licked into you, his strong hands grabbing your hips and keeping his mouth right on you, even when your poor, overstimulated nerves tried to push him away. You whined and whimpered and tugged his hair, but he didn’t stop until you were gushing into his mouth, coating his tongue with your juices, and he drank down everything you gave him with a lewd smacking of his lips. “Goddamn it,” he whispered. “Goddamn you.” 

“Why?” you asked. “Just so you can save me again?”

“Exactly... When do you leave for university again?” 

“Friday afternoon,” you said glumly, and Jamie frowned as he helped you redress. 

“Not if I have anything to do with it.” 

You woke up on Friday morning to the ringing of the doorbell of your parents’ house, and you groaned and buried your head under the pillows. You heard your father lumber up out of bed and cross the house to answer the door, and you peeked from the pillow to see the time. 8 o’clock, on the dot. Who the fuck…? 

“Oh,” you heard your father say when the front door creaked open. “Father James.”

You were awake in an instant, jumping out of bed and grabbing a t-shirt to pull over your bra and panties. As you rushed to find something in your already-packed luggage, you heard Jamie speaking, his low voice rumbling. 

“I’m sorry to disturb you this early in the day,” Jamie said. “I was only hoping to see you before your daughter left this afternoon.” 

“Me?” your father asked. “Why?” 

“May I come in?” Jamie asked, and there was silence before the door shut heavily. You heard the thudding click of Jamie’s boots on the hardwood floor, and you could imagine him worrying his hat in his hands as he spoke. “Sir, I know that I only know your daughter from a certain distance—”

“I’d say a much closer distance than you’d be willing to admit,” your father interjected. “You did sleep with her on Wednesday after the service, didn’t you?”

“Erm, yes, I did,” Jamie said. “I’ll admit to that, as shameful as it is. I’ve been praying about it ever since, praying for God’s forgiveness for the sin I committed. I only hope he does forgive me, because… Well, sir, I came here to ask for your permission for your daughter’s hand.” 

“Excuse me?” your father spat.

“I intend to marry her,” Jamie said. “And I thought it the proper thing to do to ask your permission before I did.” 

“So, you’ll fuck her, but marrying her is where you take the proper route?” your father asked. You finally found a suitable shirt and ran out of your bedroom as you tugged it on, and you skidded into the living room to see Jamie and your father, same height, standing nearly nose to nose. Jamie did hold his hat in his hands, the same black wide-billed number that he had worn on Wednesday, his hair perfectly messy, wearing his usual black with the collar done up to his throat. 

“Dad,” you said quickly. “Jamie.” 

“Hi there, lamb,” Jamie said softly. His eyes sparkled as he looked at you, and he added, “I guess you heard that, didn’t you?” 

“I-I didn’t think you were serious,” you said. “When-When you told me that you wanted to marry me. I thought that was… Heat of the moment type stuff.” 

“And perhaps it still is,” Jamie said. “But I never want this moment to end. I want you as my wife.” 

“We all want lots of things in life, buddy,” your dad said pointedly, and Jamie raised his eyes from you to him. “But I draw the line here. You are not marrying her, not after knowing her for less than a week and taking advantage of her like that.” 

“Dad, gosh!” you exclaimed. “He didn’t do that, I’m an adult, I wanted it as much as he did! And anyway, it isn’t your decision to make. Jamie, I think it’s lovely that you asked my dad for permission, but I-I would have accepted, even if you hadn’t.” 

“Really?” Jamie asked. He looked hopeful, his eyes wide and his eyebrows drawn up, and his pink lips stretched into a smile. “Little lamb…”

You went to him and wrapped yourself in his arms, and you touched your forehead against his as your hand lightly touched his cheek. He needed a shave, the faintest stubble appearing on his face, but he was still beautiful, still your handsome god. “Yes,” you whispered. “Yes, I’ll marry you, Jamie.” 

“Good,” Jamie said softly. His eyes flicked down for a moment to your lips, then back up to your eyes, and he said, “You can come live with me.”

“And what about her degree?” your father asked. “She is not abandoning her education to get married to some lowlife—”

“Dad,” you snapped. “I’ll figure it out. But if that means that I drop out…” You shrugged and turned back to Jamie, and even the sight of him made you smile. “So be it.” 

By the time noon rolled around, you were back in Jamie’s home— your home. You knew that there were a million logistical things to parse through soon, especially since break was ending on Sunday and classes started back; you would have to move out of your apartment and come to Jamie, drop out of school to live with him, but you could deal with all of that later. For now, Jamie had you in his arms, worshipping you with kisses. “My beautiful girl,” he whispered as his mouth pressed over your bare breast, letting his tongue lave over your nipple. You bit your lip to hold in your moan, and Jamie’s hands fell onto your waist. “My beautiful wife. I’ll give you a good life, I swear I will.” 

“I don’t need that,” you told him. “Any life with you is perfect.” 

Jamie was quiet for a moment, and he suddenly moved away from you, standing up from the bed. His shirt was undone, hanging open to expose his toned chest and dangling silver cross chain, his pants unbuckled; he looked especially debauched, and you loved it. “I need to show you something,” he said as he moved around the small room, obviously searching for something specific. Finally, on a busy, cluttered shelf, he found a small book, and he moved back to the bed, book in hand. 

“These are pictures from back when I was…” Jamie started, and he shook his head. “I need you to know the man you’re marrying, even if I’m no longer that man.” 

You sat up. This was obviously important to Jamie, and you watched as he opened the book to show photograph after photograph. Some were better quality than others, taken with a shaky hand, and you gently touched the corner of the first photograph. It featured Jamie prominently, a microphone in hand and sweat dripping from his hair. He was shirtless, wearing tight black jeans, and he was bent over as he sang. 

“This was during that period in my life when I eschewed God,” Jamie explained. “I was in a rock band, and I acted like it too. I was rude to people, selfish, I lied about everything, I… I was behaving quite badly, if we’re honest.” 

He flipped the page to the next picture, and you saw another photograph of Jamie performing. This time, he wore a guitar over his body, still shirtless, still screaming into the microphone, but this time, you could glance at someone in the background, partially hidden behind a guitar. “Who’s that?” you asked. 

“My brother, Sam,” Jamie said. “He’s still on that path. We’ve fought about this so much, about how I found the church and he hasn’t. He says I’m trying to convert him, or that I’m not genuine in my faith, but I just want what’s best for him.” 

“Oh,” you mumbled. You pressed your cheek into his shoulder and frowned, and you added, “I don’t like this, J.” 

“I don’t either,” Jamie said. “I hate you knowing exactly what I’ve done. But you deserve the whole truth— no more lying.” 

“Not telling me about a past that you’re ashamed of isn’t lying,” you told him. “Even if it is, I forgive you.” 

“Darling, listen to me,” Jamie said, abandoning the scrapbook and turning to you. He took your arms into his hands, holding you firmly, and his beautiful eyes went hard and serious. “You deserve to know everything I’ve done. You deserve that, as my wife. You deserve me being honest with you.” 

“I don’t deserve anything,” you whimpered. “Jamie, my dear God, you can tell me anything you want, but if you don’t want to tell me something, you don’t have to.” 

“God…” Jamie whispered. “I love you.” 

“And I love you,” you told him. “Totally unconditionally.” Your hands clutched at his shirt as you drew him into a kiss, and Jamie’s hands abandoned your arms to wrap around you as he kissed you back. He nibbled your lips as you fell backwards onto the bed, and you smoothed your hands down his chest to fiddle with his belt. 

“Oh, yeah?” Jamie chuckled. “You really need me bad like that?”

“Yes,” you whined. “God, please.” 

Jamie kissed you again, deep and fervent, and he said, “Worship me, little lamb. Show me how much you love me.” 

Without question or hesitation, you moved to kiss Jamie’s cheek and the little brown freckle that laid in the middle of his pale skin. You kissed from his cheek to his ear, and you pressed your lips to the small gold hoop he wore in his ear before trailing kisses down his rough, stubbly chin. Your kisses then landed on his neck, and you sucked his thin skin between your teeth hard enough for Jamie to make a soft moan. “Good girl,” he whispered, his hands lingering on your hips, and you moved your lips from his neck down to his prominent collarbones, tasting his skin and sighing softly. 

You shuffled to reach his chest, pushing his shirt aside and off his shoulders, and you gawked at the tattoos on his arms. Obviously, Jamie saw what you were looking at, because the muscles in his arms flexed, and he whispered, “You like them?” 

“Yeah,” you told him, stretching out his arm and kissing down to the inside of his elbow. “Really pretty…” 

“You can tell me that you think they’re hot,” Jamie laughed. “You don’t have to call them pretty.”

“But I don’t want to make you think I’m only here for the sex,” you told him. “I love you, and I worship you, and you’re so much more to me than just a man. You’re my God, Jamie. I revere you, I want to pray to you, there’s nobody and nothing more powerful than you. You are Him, and nobody can compare.” 

“Your God has done bad things,” Jamie said, and you kissed back up to his shoulder. “Terrible things.” 

“And I forgive you,” you told him. Your kisses came down his chest and your lips lingered over his nipples for a moment before you bit the rosy pink nubs. Jamie smiled and patted down your hair, and you moved your mouth down to the ink on his stomach. You let your lips touch at his undone trousers, and you lifted your eyes to find him watching you. His blue eyes were intense on you, and you whispered, “God?” 

“You don’t think you’re done, do you?” Jamie asked. “Keep going.” 

Quickly, your hands grabbed at his hips and dragged him closer, and you took down his trousers and pants to expose his soft cock. The sight of him made you gasp, and you pressed forward, nuzzling your cheek against his cock. He smelled so good, and you whimpered as you dug your fingernails into his ass. “God,” you sniffled, and you felt the hot prick of tears touch at your eyes. You loved him so much, revered him and worshipped him so much, and Jamie’s hands touched your head. “I love you.”

“Good, good,” Jamie whispered. “You’re doing so well, worshipping me so good. I’ll fuck you, if you want.”

“Yeah?” you asked, kissing the head of his cock and smiling when his cock flexed for a moment. “I think I’d rather just worship you instead. How can I come to know my God if I don’t worship you?”

“You’re going to kill me,” Jamie whispered fondly. “But I’ll die a sweet death with you.”

#jamie bower #jamie campbell bower #jamie bower x reader #jamie bower x you #jamie bower x y/n #jamie campbell bower x reader #jamie campbell bower x you #jamie campbell bower x y/n

[asnarkyandironicusername]

Day 02 of @remadoramicrofics - Cat

“Alright,” Remus said as he, Tonks, and Teddy stepped back into the daylight streaming through Diagon Alley, “all that’s left is a magical companion.”

Tonks clapped her hands excitedly. “Perfect, we’ll get you an owl and then take an ice cream break at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour!” 

“Mum, I want a cat,” Teddy said for what felt like the thousandth time.

“We understand, but an owl would, perhaps, be a little more useful,” Remus tried.

“You know your father and I will have an endless supply of letters to send you,” Tonks added.

“I won’t need an owl for that!” Teddy protested, “Dad will be there everyday. Nan said that I could get whatever I wanted.”

“We know,” Remus sighed, “but a cat is a lot of responsibility. Hogwarts will tend for an owl, but you’d be entirely responsible for a cat – on top of being responsible for your studies.” 

“I’m not a little kid any more, I know!” 

Remus wanted to point out that eleven was far from an adult, but decided to bite down on that fact. 

“What if you’re allergic?” Tonks tried.

Teddy folded his arms in front of himself. “I’ll have to get one first to find out.”

In truth, Remus didn’t think a cat would be a terrible amount of responsibility, nor did they have any reason to believe Teddy to be allergic. Rather, Remus Lupin for the first time in eleven years feared that someone he loved would be irreversibly impacted by his disease. When Teddy had first mentioned getting a cat, he and Tonks had discussed it at length. Most of the conversations involved Tonks taking Teddy’s side while Remus worried that his condition would lead to the cat running off or displaying some other behavioral issues.

This fear had then, rapidly, morphed into the fear that his son would hate him for his condition. And of course, the ever-present fear that Teddy would find himself ostracized or ridiculed for his lineage reared its ugly head. Tonks had spent the last week insisting that was ridiculous, but Remus felt the familiar, isolating anxiety clawing at him now, in a busy street with the two people he loved most in the world.

Teddy folded his arms in front of himself, his roots tinging a deep burgundy color. “Why don’t you want me to get a cat?” 

Tonks, bless her heart, tried to come up with an argument that they hadn’t already rehearsed and given him, but Remus just sighed; he never wanted his son to think his parents were liars. “Teddy, I know you want a cat, and you’re right, I’m sure things would go fine at Hogwarts, but the cat will have to live at home, too and…well, pets and werewolves, especially cats and werewolves don’t always mix. I wouldn’t want to –”

“How do you know?” his son asked.

“Well, I…I just – it’s, what do you mean?”

“We’ve never had a cat, Dad, so how do you know all cats don’t like you?”

“It’s like the old adage – cat’s and dogs, you know,” Tonks said as she rested a hand on their son’s shoulder.

“But some cats and dogs get along and Dad isn’t a dog. Harry said that Uncle James’s anigamus form was a stag and those aren’t typically friends with wolves.”

“That was a little different, Teddy.”

“Well, can’t we just see? I mean, maybe we could meet a few cats before you outlaw one entirely.”

Remus nodded. “Alright, and maybe you could ask Nan about letting the cat stay there during holidays.”

Teddy rolled his eyes at Remus and Remus was struck, not for the first time, at just how much like his mother he looked. “I won’t get a cat that doesn’t like you, Dad.”

“Well, it’s good to have options,” Remus said, though he didn’t miss the look his son and wife shared as he led them to the magical menagerie. 

There wasn’t much room inside. Every inch of wall was hidden by cages. Remus, with his heightened smell and hearing, found the place to be quite overwhelming because the occupants of these cages were all squeaking, squawking, jabbering or hissing.

“What about this one?” Teddy said as he pointed to a tabby orange thing flopped onto its back. “I’d name him Gideon.”

“Because Gideon Crumb is a ginger?” Remus ventured.

“I knew you liked the Weird Sisters,” Tonks said enthusiastically.

“Just because I know a member’s name does not mean I enjoy listening to the two of you belt out the lyrics off-key.” That wasn’t entirely true; while Remus didn’t think either of them had a musical career ahead of them, he did quite enjoy the moments where they’d be cleaning their home and Dora and Teddy would turn every song into a duet.

“Can we see that one?” Remus asked the attendant. She wore heavy black spectacles and looked him up and down warily. 

“It’s his first year and he’s picking out a companion,” Tonks said as she set a hand on Teddy’s shoulder.

“Yeah, he doesn’t really show any prowess,” she said duly as she pulled the cat from the cage and plopped it, rather ungracefully into Teddy’s arms. He immediately morphed his hair to match.

“You have to admit,” Tonks whispered as Teddy headed to one of the sectioned off areas, “They’re rather cute together.”

“He’d be cute next to a boggart, Dora,” Remus returned fondly.

“Mum, Dad, come meet Gideon.”

Remus took a deep breath and held it as he reached his hand out to the orange tabby. To his surprise, Gideon immediately butted his head into Remus’s palm. “I think he likes you,” Tonks said with a grin as she ruffled Teddy’s hair. “So, now that that’s settled, who’s ready for ice cream?”

#remus x tonks #remus x nymphadora #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin #hp fanfic #hp fandom #nymphadora tonks #nymphadora tonks fanfic #nymphadora lupin #teddy lupin #remus and tonks live #Teddy Lupin goes to Hogwarts #remadoramicrofics #remadora microfics

[dotieeee]

The Dream That Got Away

Chapter 17

Pairing: Dark!Morpheus x You (no Y/N!)

This is a multi-chapter fic — Weekly updates (either Saturday or Sunday) because I found a rhythm of sorts lol

(The entire fic has been outlined, so I will see this to the end, you have my word)

**********************************************************

Link to the Masterlist

Overall Warnings!! Take heed:

Morpheus is DARK – in canon, he changes for the better (or at least, tries to – but we don’t do canon lol, so he goes even more batshit crazy) cue obsession, manipulation, possessiveness, powerplay

18+ ONLY – explicit scenes will be present, some explicit language

DUB-CON and NON-CON scenes

Character death (sort of)

Creator vs Creation drama

And other dark stuff that may be added in the future

This chapter’s warnings:

graphic dub-con ahead - turn back now if this disturbs you :)

touch-starved Morpheus should be a warning of its own

breakup closure angst??

reader is a walking ball of angst at this point lol

You have been warned!! Proceed with caution!!!

Link to the previous chapter

Chapter 17: Lost and Found, and Lost Again

“Wha - wait, why?” you scrunch up your face, thoroughly bewildered by his abrupt declaration. What the fuck is his problem?

“Are you questioning my judgement, little dream?” Your Dream Lord takes a threatening step closer to you, intending to cow you into obedience.

But, for what reason? “I have not done anything to warrant this rather harsh decision, my Lord,” you counter, softening your voice to try and pacify his anger, as misplaced as it is. “Besides, you haven’t found any issue with me going back until now.”

At his full height, he stares down at you with cold, hard eyes, and you wonder just how such beauty could contain so much cruelty. You gaze into the galaxies it withholds, but find nothing but a black hole staring back at you. 

“I did,” he responds after a long pause. “I just chose to let you, seeing how sorely you missed it.”

“You have not given me your reason, Lord Morpheus. I think I deserve to know what reason you have to take away my only joy,” you continue to pry, your voice breaking at last along with the tears that now flow freely down your cheeks. 

But he has no sympathy for you - instead, he curls his lips ever-so-slightly in disapproval. “I am quite disappointed you’d consider the dreams to be your only source of happiness, all while our child grows within your womb.”

Amidst your tears, a huff escapes your lips as you bristle at his undertone. He isn’t even born yet, and he’s now being used against you for reasons still unknown to you.

“What exactly are you implying, my Lord?” you ask softly as you take a step away from him.

Not to be undeterred by the tears streaming down your cheeks, he reaches out to you, presumably to touch your face, but you turn away, so with a deflated expression, he purses his lips and withdraws his hands.  “I only mean that your efforts are best concentrated on caring for yourself and our son,” he clarifies.

Mumbling to yourself, you say bitterly, “I’ve been doing that for two months, my Lord, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Enough,” he admonishes with a firm tone. “We will no longer argue about this. You will stay in the palace until our son is born.”

He pins you to your spot with his dark gaze, a look that you know so well: obey or there will be consequences. You wilt inwardly on instinct and say nothing, even though you remain unsatisfied with his cryptic reasoning. He goes on to elaborate further:

“As for my sister, pay her words no mind. Delirium has seen to the downfall of many, and she could lead you to somewhere I cannot protect you.” 

Taking your cheek with his palm, he makes you look into his eyes, ones that seem to scan for any hint of defiance. “I will not allow any harm befall my child and his mother.”

What’s next, locking you up in his room?

Despite your inner protests, you nod meekly. The moment your Lord lets go of you, you give him a wide berth, and he gratefully doesn’t follow, but you could tell how displeased he is with the distance you placed between you both.

With a final glance at your form, he leaves in a swirl of sand. As soon as he vanishes, a sudden bout of nausea hits you, so you scramble to the toilet and empty the entire contents of your stomach. It takes you a while, but you rush to the door of your shared room once it stops only to find it locked from the outside, as you had suspected all along.

***

“M’lady, you’ve really got to eat. You barely touched your soup.”

Morwyn had just entered the Dream King’s quarters, where you had spent almost five days cloistered in. You had neither the energy nor the drive to step out and roam the palace grounds; you didn’t even know if you were allowed to. All you could worry about were your dreamers and the work that you had no choice but to leave behind - if your Lord knew your mind was preoccupied with them, he’d chastise you about caring more about them than your own son, just like he had insinuated.

You’ve been seeing more of him for the past few days, and when you’re both alone together, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself, so he’d either cuddle you, with his possessive hands over your belly, or fuck your brains out and leave reluctantly to attend to his duties. It’s a routine you’ve grown to hate because even when he left, you could still feel every part of him on you, as if your unborn son isn’t enough of a reminder of the bed you’re forced to share with him.

And then, there’s what Lady Delirium said just before the Dream Lord barged in.

What had she meant to say when she found something you ‘lost?’ And why had your King taken such offence to it?

“Princess Mera? M’lady?”

Morwyn’s concerned voice thankfully digs you out of a hole you didn’t want to be stuck in, and from looking forlornly out to the view that the balcony offered, you turn to face her.

“Sorry, Morwyn, you were saying?”

Hovering over the table where your now-cold soup lay untouched, she gives you a shy smile and points at it. “Maybe I can get you something else instead? He has to eat too, you know…”

Ah, yes. While you don’t have the appetite to eat, the little one inside you depends on you for everything, and he’ll do so for a while. You wish he’d hurry up though - frankly you could do away with the random bouts of dizziness, bizarre food cravings and annoying backaches.

“Maybe I could get you some chocolate-covered pretzels or cinnamon buns? I remember you liked cinnamon,” Morwyn suggests.

“Nah, I can’t stand cinnamon now, and chocolate tastes metallic to me. Maybe something healthy, like a chicken salad?” you say, hugging a pillow, before adding, “And caramel bars.”

“Not sure the last one’s healthy, but okay, I’ll be back with them!”

Morwyn leaves you half-heartedly wondering where she gets all that energy from as you smile gratefully and lie down on the loveseat. Eventually, she comes back with a tray full of food, so you try to eat as much as your body can hold down. You thank her for the food and for being patient with you before she leaves you alone once more, lying moodily on the couch. Maybe you could drop by the library later and catch up on your dreamers once your back decides to let up.

Any thoughts you have of getting out of the room vanish as soon as the Dream King arrives, transporting himself inside using his sand instead of using his door, as is his usual fashion. You get up to greet him out of habitual politeness, but in doing so, you wince at the dull pain the action causes. 

This doesn’t escape his notice, it seems, for he immediately makes his approach.

“Does your back ache, my dream?” he asks, his eyes laden with concern.

You could only nod, intending to trudge slowly to the bed and bury yourself in pillows and blankets, but he has other ideas. Gently, he carries you instead and lays you down on the sheets.

“Lie on your stomach, my little dream,” comes his soft command, and you do, having a vague idea of what he’s up to. True enough, he gets on the bed as well, mounting your hips, and, brushing your hair aside, he untangles the ribbons of your dress to reveal your back. With expert hands, he starts kneading the tense muscles on your shoulders, and you groan out of relief as his thumbs put pressure on the knotted muscles on your shoulder blades.

How many beings in the universe could say they had been given a back rub by the King of Dreams himself, you wonder, sighing as his hands slowly work their way down your spine to your lower back. You could feel the heat emanating from his body as he moves closer, and his breath fans the back of your neck before softly caressing your skin with his lips and giving you goosebumps in the process. He applies pressure on the muscles on your waist before halting his movements altogether. Feeling like a huge weight has been lifted off your back, you sigh once more, wanting nothing but to drift off to deep sleep.

“Thank you, Lord Morpheus,” you murmur.

You inhale sharply as his hand hikes your dress up and dips between your thighs, massaging your inner folds. Making a tiny noise of complaint, you squirm underneath him as he rubs against your clit and makes you wet, not feeling up to having your back blown right after he’d massaged it so tenderly.

He must’ve felt you tense up again, for he whispers against your back, “Sshh, my dream, relax, I will make you feel better.”

In a split second, your dress disappears, and your underwear soon follows. His tongue laps up the exposed skin on your back, his teeth grazing and nipping, while his hands part your lower cheeks. In one swift motion, he lodges his rock-hard cock inside your core, and you whimper at its suddenness, while he groans in pure bliss from above you. He settles for a languid pace as pulls out and pushes his entire length back in as if careful not to strain you further. His lips pull away, having done their job marking your back with welts, and you feel him prop himself up at an angle that keeps rubbing over your sweet spot and at the same time avoids putting pressure on your lower back muscles. You grip the pillow tight as you bite back your whimpers, but when he resumes rubbing the muscles on your waist and your spine, you start moaning with abandon and let your body relax completely in his grip, giving in to the pleasure he provides. He builds up the pressure unhurriedly inside your core while the pads of his palm knead your back muscles carefully, so when the pressure finally bursts, you lay there, limply, as he continues pumping into you, drawing your climax out in that sensual, controlled pace of his choosing. His pace only falters and quickens slightly when he comes close; he takes you with him as he climaxes and sends his hot seed coursing through your core and coating your inner walls, some of it leaking out when he pulls out of you.

Your Dream Lord lies beside you, already clothed, as you catch your breath, with him kindly making your dress reappear, its ribbons already laced behind your back. He dons a soft expression as he stares wordlessly at your face, caressing your cheek lazily with a finger. You couldn’t move an inch, not after being drained of energy like the only way he does. After a few moments, he leans down to kiss you, tracing the outline of your lips with his tongue and demanding entrance, while his hand not-so-subtly traces your arched back all the way to your ass -

“Hey boss! Your majesty, I - Ack!”

Matthew comes darting into the chamber from the balcony and in what must’ve been a romantic scene in his eyes, with you draped on the Dream King’s bed and him hovering over you, kissing you with a softness only you get to see. Your Lord reluctantly pulls away, and you pull the blankets over you in haste and embarrassment at being caught in such a vulnerable situation - and by no less than his raven!

“Matthew,” you hear him address his minder. “Is something the matter?”

“So very sorry to uh, interrupt you and the princess and all, but there’s this huge, huge, crazy bird running amok right now, in the forest and it’s breathing fire!” comes his frantic reply, ruffling his feathers in agitation. “Apparently, that giant bird can breathe water too, it’s just flooded the entire town square! I didn’t know who else to get, sir.”

Curiously peeking from underneath the blankets, you see Matthew perched on the back of the loveseat while your Lord puts on his cloak.

“Hi there, princess!” Matthew greets you with a winged salute. “Sorry to ruin the moment, but this bird -”

“It’s not just a bird, Matthew, it’s called an Anzû, judging by your description. You were right to call my attention.” the Dream Lord corrects him before making his way to you, planting a quick kiss on your crown. “I shall see to it, my dream.”

Nodding at him, you ask, “Can I be at the library, Lord Morpheus?”

“Of course,” he responds with a light caress of his fingers on your cheek. “I will come to fetch you after the Anzû is dealt with.”

“Uh, guys, I know you can’t keep your hands off each other, but, whatever-it’s-called, it’s destroying the village, you know, ve-eeery urgent?”

The Dream Lord just raises a mildly amused eyebrow at the raven’s reaction, and questions him, “Where is it at the moment?”

“Last I checked, sir, it’s just started setting the forest on fire, in the trees near the House of Mystery and the House of Secrets.”

“Let us meet there, then,” the King says simply, the sand from his leather pouch engulfing his cloaked form before disappearing entirely.

Matthew, flapping his wings, sighs and mutters to himself, “He could’ve just brought me along with his sand, but no-oo…”

With a farewell to you, he flies off the balcony to follow his boss.

But you aren’t left alone for long. Just as Matthew has left the chambers, one of the double doors cracks open, revealing Morwyn, looking around the room cautiously before beckoning someone you couldn’t see inside. To your surprise, a young woman with colourful hair peeks from the opening, before pushing them wider with a loud ‘weeee!’, and you jump out of bed instantly just in time for her to give you a hug that leaves you momentarily breathless.

“It worked! I distracted him!” Lady Delirium squeals in delight when she releases you. “ I think he’ll be away for quite a long time, but not that long, a long time is about a hundred years, or more. We have to hurry, though, that thingy I did on the Anzû might not last that long.”

“Lady Del,” you greet her before curiously asking, “Wait, you set the Anzû loose? What for?”

“So we could go find what you’ve lost,” she just says cryptically, as she drags you to the door.

Going along with her, you tell her, “Lady Del, I’m not allowed in the dreams anymore.”

“I know!” she replies with excitement. “That’s what the distraction is for.”

Morwyn chimes in, keeping up with your pace, “I can hold down the fort, m’lady, I can tell the Dream Lord you went out for a walk just in case he comes back early. Take care!”

“Thank you, Morwyn!” you shout after her as she pulls back and waves after you, and, still holding on to Lady Del’s hand, you let her take you to a detour leading to the sea of dreams, where you waste no time diving in, clueless as to where she’ll bring you. As the waters take you where you ought to be, your hand inadvertently lets go of Lady Del’s due to its force, and you land, alone, on a patch of dying grass.

“Fancy seeing you here, princess.”

You raise your eyebrow at the Corinthian who’s grinning ear to ear as you straighten your dress. Your eyes sweep the territory you landed on for any sign of the Endless that brought you here, but you find her nowhere.

You seem to have landed on a garden, or at least, what was once a garden. The plants look like they have not seen a drop of water in weeks and have been left to wilt away and dry up. But as you survey the dream you landed on, you couldn’t shake off the peculiar feeling that the place is familiar.

“This garden used to be so lively,” you find yourself saying.

Too familiar.

“Oh, you think?” your friend just snorts.

You look behind him, where a modern-brutalist building stands. It’s a house, you conclude, and it seems to be beckoning you inside, so you brush past your friend, caught in a trance you couldn’t break away from, intending to enter the abode.

“I don’t think you want to go inside, princess.”

You let the Corinthian’s warning go unheeded. Pushing the doors open, you cross the foyer and reach what looks like a previously well-maintained living room now lying in total ruins: upturned, upholstered couches with their leather peeling off all over, a glass coffee table, smashed, its glass shards scattered all over the threadbare carpet, science magazines, ripped from the spine, the crumpled pages littering the sorry scene.

A few feet from the living room is a doorway which leads to the kitchen, where you could hear scuffling. How you know it’s where the kitchen is, you have no idea, but you walk to it anyway, and why is your heart beating so fast? Why would you dread anything from this dilapidated excuse for a house?

“That’s not a good idea, princess. Back away, when you still can.”

But, the Corinthian’s voice comes out as muffled - all you could hear is rhythmic gasping and soft moaning, and like a moth to a flame, to walk to the sound, completely entranced, blood pounding in your ears.

You barely make it through the doorway when you see a tall fellow plastered to the wall, his hair too grey for his age, his eyes closed and mouth wide open and moaning in pleasure, and a woman - a nightmare, disguised as a woman - on his knees, sucking him off, both of them oblivious to your presence. Frozen to your spot, you stand transfixed at the sight, not taking your eyes off the male and feeling your heart being squeezed tight.

“So I guess you’ve met Sumnio.”

Again, your friend’s voice is ignored, and you clutch your heart, gasping for air and collapsing against his chest. Strong arms anchor yours to keep you steady, but, already feeling light-headed, you cling to his shirt with trembling hands and, leaning onto him, you scream.

It’s visceral, painful, echoing in the dream-space, and your friend drags you away from the scene and back to the garden, where he cradles you awkwardly, both of you kneeling on the drying blades of grass, and you remember everything: every memory of that man’s face, grinning coyly, smiling warmly, his soft, forest green eyes blazing with so much passion you had helped inspire…

And they hurt. Every stolen moment with him, the longing stares, and the chaste kisses - just remembering them is agony, and you cry out against your friend’s chest, mourning for what fate had so cruelly stolen from you.

“I know him,” your say amidst your sobbing, and you feel the Corinthian’s hand patting you softly on the head.

“Yeah, I bet you do,” comes his simple reply.

Oliver Chapman.

You start hiccuping, and your poor nightmare friend lets you go so he could hand you a glass of water he materialises. You accept it and drink from it, but you continue bawling as you set the glass down, water spilling all over the grass and your dress, the gravity of his presence in the dream hitting you just as hard as the memories did.

They’re here to torment him. Your poor Ollie.

Gulping for air, you let out, “Y-you’re h-hurting him! H-he’s hurting my O-ollie…”

Cursing under his breath, the Corinthian grabs your shoulder and shakes you violently.

“Pull yourself together, princess, there’s no use crying over this shit,” he chides through his gritted teeth. He lets out an agitated sigh, but he releases you. He takes out a handkerchief from his coat pocket and hands it over, and with a shaking hand you take it, your fist balling into it as you stare at a patch of grass, trying to breathe evenly and choking back your tears.

“There’s no easy way to say this, princess, but your boyfriend sentenced your ex to a lifetime of misery,” he divulges, sitting cross-legged on the grass facing you. “When he lost his memories of you, he tried to fill in that little hole you left in his heart or whatever, but Sumnio was sent here by Dream to make him doubt every single one of his lovers. He’s never going to settle at this rate.”

In an attempt to soothe the excruciating pain in your heart, your palm rubs against your chest, trying to breathe through your mouth as fresh, silent tears cascade down your cheeks, staining your dress further. He lets you process his words in silence.

“I’m going to fix this,” you declare all of a sudden, surprising even yourself.

“How, exactly?” your friend asks as he absentmindedly picks on the brittle blades of grass.

“I don’t know, I don’t fucking know,” you whisper, sniffling and wiping away the tears using the crumpled hanky he gave you. “But I can’t let him live like this, Cori. He’s not a threat anymore, so why make him suffer?”

Clicking his tongue, he mutters, “You know he doesn’t see it that way, princess.” He gets on his feet with a grunt and offers you a hand, which you gratefully accept. “You better clean that up, he’s gonna find out.”

“You're not going to tell him, are you?”

“I’d rather stay out of it, thank you very much.”

You offer him a wet, grateful smile, mouthing ‘thank you,’ and his only response is a shake of his head in exasperation.

“I can distract him for a day, at most,” he adds, tilting his head in the house’s direction.

Ah, yes. Sumnio. What a shame you had to meet him that way, if only in passing.

“I can shut him up, too,” he continues, smirking playfully. “He’s gonna moan a little, but I can do the job.”

You couldn’t help the small snort of laughter that escapes you. “Thanks for the mental image,” you remark dryly. “I have to go back. Whatever Lady Del did to distract him may have already passed.”

“I told you she’s trouble. Anyway, let me know when. You owe me big time.”

Rolling your eyes a little, with a small smile still on your face, you jest, “Yes, how can I ever repay you?”

But you flash him a look, letting him know you actually mean it. Your friend, as is his usual, just gives you a mock salute as you exit the dream, indicating that perhaps, he understood what you had meant to say.

***

“M’lady, I’ve got the key,” Morwyn says in a hushed tone as she sets down your bowl of cornflakes. Discreetly, she places the key in question, and you mutter your ‘thanks’ to her, before nothing short of inhaling your cereal. Your Dream Lord had just left for his duties, so time is of the essence. Cori’s right: grieving over Ollie isn’t going to help.

If you want to put him right that badly, you need to do your research.

You were reluctant at first in enlisting Morwyn for help, but she has proven to be loyal to you so far, so you decide to place your trust in her and ask her to obtain the key to the Dream Lord’s office from an unsuspecting Merv. It had to be you who’ll get the books though, refusing to put her in more trouble than she already is.

Sneaking into the library past Lucienne was easy, seeing as she’s swamped with records that need filing from yesterday’s Anzû’s attack (thank goodness for Lady Del). You get Ollie’s book in less than three minutes, and while you had nowhere to hide the bulky tome, you decide to worry about that bit later, and, after you give the key back to your co-conspirator, you barricade yourself in your old room and begin with studying how bad the damage was, and how much effort it’ll take to undo all of it.

***

Clinging to the toilet for dear life, you heave the last bits of soggy cornflakes out from your gut. This time, it isn’t just brought about by the sickness of being slightly heavy with child.

It was out of pure repulsion at what you had just finished reading from Ollie’s books. It was nothing short of abominable on his part, being forced to endure five horrendous breakups with women that seemed to genuinely like him, and then making him relapse on sleeping pills for something he could no longer remember - all for your Dream Lord’s depraved entertainment.

And the worst part is that it was partly your fault.

But you had to quash that guilt within you at the moment, seeing as it wouldn’t help with your cause. You had a faint idea what to do with Ollie’s dreams, and no clue whether it was going to last, but you had to try, at least.

Having hidden the book in one of the toilet cupboards in your room, you proceed to your shared bedroom with your King and pretend as if you had not just found out about one of the dirty little secrets he’s been keeping from you. It takes you all of your willpower not to be sick out of disgust after he fucks on his bed for hours on end, and as you both finish, you had only one thing in mind:

That you’ll get Ollie’s life back for him and perhaps say one, final, proper goodbye.

***

Your little panic attack at Ollie’s kitchen doorway was bad, but being confronted with happy memories you had spent in Ollie’s dreams in this modern-brutalist study is so much worse, you discover.

Here you are, hunched over on the carpet you remember almost ruining with your own blood, except it this time, it wasn’t a puncture wound that’s making you double over in pain - it’s that dull, stabbing ache in your heart at having to recall all those moments with him again and again, moments he can’t even recall, and as they come running through your head, so do the tears.

Maybe if you had been unmade instead, you wouldn’t have had to suffer with this as much.

The study you had spent countless hours working in had been trashed - a mirror of Ollie’s deteriorating mental state. It’s worse than the living room downstairs: his bookshelves, one you remember fondly with the books arranged oddly by colour, upturned, its contents reduced to nothing but ripped, empty pages; his computer screen cracked beyond repair; the L-shaped sofas with ripped covers and exposed foam - everything you loved about the place, including its owner, falling apart, and you’re the only chance he has.

But then, you hear footsteps approaching, so you quickly wipe your tears away with your palm and finally face the dreamer you’ve come to help.

Ollie, with his greying hair and green eyes, his soiled pyjamas and his unshaven beard. He seems to be having such a rough time, it hurt you to see him like this.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he notes with narrowed, suspicious eyes, just like the first time you met.

You flash him a wan smile. “No, I’m not.”

“Huh.” He rubs the back of his head sheepishly, as is his habit whenever he gets nervous. “Are you, by any chance, someone I slept with within these past months?”

“No,” you reply before letting out a dry chuckle. “But you came very close.”

“A damn shame I didn’t then,” he quips lightly and grins suggestively. “You don’t look so bad.”

Says the man with unwashed hair and soiled pyjamas. “Glad to hear your sense of humour’s still intact. How’s MiraSleep doing?”

“Not bad, too. I’m set for life because of it.”

But the emptiness in his voice does not escape you.

“Shouldn’t you be happy, if that’s the case?” you tilt your head and ask.

“Wouldn’t that be the dream?” he says under his breath.

Eager to press him for details, you continue, “Why? What’s going on?”

He shakes his head as he paces at the study. “Nothing much, except I just ruined what could’ve been something great. Especially the last one. I fucked it up. For someone with all this money, you’d think I’d have it all figured out.”

Peering curiously into his eyes, you inquire, “Is it Charmaine?”

“How’d you know?” he asks with a puzzled look.

“I’m a dream. It’s my job.”

With a heavy sigh, he nods in resignation. “Charmaine. I liked her, too. I liked her a lot.”

With a shrug, you advise him, “Then tell her. Say ‘sorry, I fucked up. I love you.’ Can’t be that hard, can it?”

Ollie just snorts in response. “Think it’s that easy?”

“You’d be surprised how much stuff you’d let slide because you love them.”

“You think she loves me?”

“I think,” you say, taking a few strides closer to him, “That’s up for you to find out.”

Clasping your hands together, you stare into his eyes, concentrating all your dreaming-abilities, all the hurt, the longing, everything you had, into your palm. For a few moments, you close your eyes, letting the entire dream-space absorb you, and when you open them, a dreamcatcher, not unlike the one your Dream Lord destroyed, appears in your palm, pristine, almost glowing with all the power you had endowed it.

“Holy shit,” Ollie curses under his breath in awe, looking around in his study: you had restored it, and everything else in his dream-space, and it took everything in you. Trying not to wobble on your feet, you grab his hands and place the dreamcatcher in his grasp.

“You know, it’s funny, I had one just like this before. I probably lost it - are you okay? You look pale,” he observes, worry etched all over his face.

Brushing it aside, you gesture at the dreamcatcher. “Look at that. Keep that safe. Every time you find yourself doubting Charmaine’s, or anyone else’s love, just take a look at that dreamcatcher, and it’ll wash away all that doubt in your heart,” you explain, your voice breaking a little at all the emotion you’re trying to contain. 

“What if it comes back?” he asks, toying with the dreamcatcher’s strings.

“Frankly, the nightmare working on your dreams needs to up his game. It’ll work.”

This earns you a befuddled look from him, but you just wave it away.

“That dreamcatcher will remind you to always choose happiness. Be happy, Ollie. That’s all I ever wanted, really.”

And then you see it: that warm smile he’s always had for you, his forest green eyes lighting up exactly the way you remember.

“Are you sure we’ve never met before?”

“Quite.”

“Will I see you again?”

You smile sadly and simply shake your head. Unable to hold your tears back any longer, you turn away from him so he doesn’t see them. You had not realised just how much you have to hold back; how much you wanted to hold him and kiss him and how much you wished it was his child you carried instead.

But, it isn’t fated. Not in this lifetime. Maybe not even in the next. So instead, you settle with:

“Goodbye, Ollie.”

You couldn’t stay there anymore. Without looking back, you will yourself back into the sea of dreams, vaguely tasting the salt both from your tears and the waters.

***

Significantly weakened from repairing Ollie’s dream-space and conjuring that protective charm for him, you trudge dejectedly from the shores to your old room in the palace, making a beeline to the cupboard where you had hidden his book of dreams.

You trace the cover ever-so-gently with your fingers, afraid to lose the only thing you have left of him.

You had not allowed yourself to grieve your loss because you had a job to do. But, now that you’ve completed the quest, you hug the book, and mourn.

You had not expected to still love him after all that happened, and yet, you pushed him to take a lover so he could finally be happy.

You did a good thing, you keep repeating in your head over and over. But how could such a good thing hurt so fucking much?

Crawling to your old bed, you curl up in a ball, still holding Ollie’s book of dreams close to your heart. You’re exhausted, physically and emotionally, and it doesn’t take much sobbing into the pillow before sweet unconsciousness embraces you to its comforting bosom, making you forget the pain if only for a few hours.

***

A little later, elsewhere in the castle, a frantic Endless is close to tearing down the palace walls in search of you: his precious little dream, his only lover and the mother of his unborn child, is missing, and he’s looked everywhere for you, causing quite a stir among the staff. They’re careful, as always, to avoid his wrathful stare, especially when it comes to matters concerning you. They’re secretly grateful when your attendant arrives to break the tension, and the news, that you’re in your old chamber, fast asleep, perhaps exhausted, Morwyn adds. He wastes no time transporting himself to the chambers he crafted especially for you, and as soon as his silver, galaxy-laden eyes land on your curled-up form, his visage visibly softens. He is careful not to wake you as he approaches to tenderly caress your cheeks, and, hovering over you, he places a gentle kiss on your hair, taking notice of the book you’re cradling in your arms.

****************************** Link to the next chapter

Author notes on the Chapter:

Aghhhkk will he see the book?!!

Now, about that back rub...

We have about three or four chapters remaining, folks!!

******************************

Author's notes in general:

Thank you, THANK YOU for reading!!

Please engage, comment and reblog!! I love feedback from you guys :) This is my first ever fic, so kindness is truly appreciated!

Thank you to my queen @queenshelby @endlessdreamqueen3 for encouraging me to pen this, as well as to my fellow Dark!Morpheus writers whose work I have thoroughly enjoyed and keep rereading :)

Post date: 2/12/23

Edit date: 2/12/23

Taglist: Just lemme know please if you want to be added, too!

Tagging the following:

@wt-fxck

@sandman-33

@reallystressedhoneybee

@akiraquote

@safe-teycar

@ponyboys-sunsets

@izzicle

@spygrrl99

@intothesoul

@thecrazytealady

@tastyinspection8860

@kittenssss-blog

@trinittyy

@mxacegrey

@saraicus

@blu3what

@justporple

@emy635

@chantzmar

@dawnissunnysideup

@esmeralda-tupi

@ggxsan

#dark!morpheus fic #dark!morpheus #dark!morpheus x you #dark morpheus #dark morpheus x you #dark!morpheus x reader #dark!dream #dark!dream x you #dark!dream x reader #dark!dream of the endless #dark!dream of the endless x you #morpheus x reader #lord morpheus x you #dream x reader #dream x you #morpheus goes batshit crazy #king of dreams #ruler of the nightmare realm #dark!morpheus fanfic #the sandman fanfic #the sandman fic #the sandman fanfiction #18+only #tom sturridge character #the sandman #the dream that got away

[exhaustedpirate]

only because I have an issue with Zeus in Once Upon a Time, I wanted Persephone instead ( I was trying to incorporate her with the Hades we were given - I love the Hades/Persephone ship but it wouldn't have worked out in the OUAT universe ) rated G | 1287 words also on AO3

The light was blinding. He welcomed it - he was moving on, no more fights, no more pain.

No more more.

"Welcome, Killian Jones."

A soft voice echoed through the empty white room. He thought it was all over, the light was supposed to be the end. Why was he facing a stranger? Why wasn’t it over?

"Who are you?"

"My name is Persephone, I'm here to guide you."

For all the stories he didn't hear of Hades, he knew of Persephone fairly well. Her name was whispered in prayers through the sailors when the weather roughened. She was said to be kind, to welcome them into a peaceful resting place.

Her long brown hair fell by her waist, a soft purple gown fell down to her feet, her dark skin contrasting the whiteness of the room. A kind smile, soft eyes - perhaps the sailors were right.

"Guide me?"

"It is my duty to welcome everyone who makes their way into the light, guide them on their way beyond. You, however, are headed somewhere different."

For a moment, he wondered if he was wrong. If he was in fact doomed to burn for eternity, his actions while living too vile for his redemption to matter. He wondered if, even after death, he wouldn't see Emma again.

A hand on his shoulder startled him out of his spinning thoughts. Her understanding smile welcomed him, reassurance in her eyes.

"Calm yourself, Killian Jones, the path ahead of you is bright." Her hand falls away from his shoulder, clasping both in front of her. "I am here to reward you for your heroic actions, in life and even in death."

He had done good deeds, he knew, - that was what heroes did, afterall - but there was clear surprise in his face at the idea that a goddess would think the same. She seemed aware of his shock and laughed, a musical laughter that brightened and lightened your heart even as he stuttered his protest.

"I am no hero, your Highness."

Persephone blushed at the title. She shook her head with a chuckle.

"If that were true, I would not be here." She held out her hand, willing him to take it. "Come."

How could he not? Killian held her hand, following as she pulled. 

They could have been walking for hours, minutes, seconds, he wasn't sure. The room seemed to elongate, never ending, never starting, just light, white and bright. 

"I have heard much about you, your Highness, but never about this occupation of yours."

If he hadn’t been looking at her, he wouldn’t have seen the flash of sadness in her eyes. He could hit himself for causing such a reaction. When her eyes found him, there was resignation, a soft smile on her lips.

"I loved a man, I believe I still do, despite it all. Hades had been much different than he turned out to be." Killian tried to control his surprise at hearing of her romance with the demon who tortured him for days on end. He focused on her words. "I tried to fight back, I tried to escape. When I did, he trapped me here, leading souls just as yours beyond while I stay here, forever." His hand tightened around hers and she smiled, sadness pushed back as a spark of determination filled her dark eyes. His heart stuttered  - how many times had he seen the same happening on green eyes?

"Not to worry, Killian Jones, I am filled with happiness to be able to bring you and everyone before and after to where they belong."

Reassured, his mind flashes with images of his loved one, head jerking at attention.

"Does that mean… you've seen my brother? And my mother?"

Persephone smiles, a brilliant smile of memories, and nods.

"Yes and yes. They've both trekked this path before you. Your mother spoke very highly of you and your brother, telling me stories upon stories of your mischief and love."

Killian couldn't help but blush at the implications, knowing that he had been less than angelic in his youth. Persephone laughed.

"I'm sure she will be expecting you once you do reach her, and so will your brother."

That thought sobered him. He could see his family again, he could be a family again.

"And Milah?"

That thought brought a frown to the goddess' face and his heart stuttered.

"Unfortunately, the River of Lost Souls is not part of my dominion."

"So, she's gone?"

"I'm afraid so." Her other hand joins their locked hands in a reassuring gesture.

They stay in silence, walking in tandem, hands interlocked.

It seems like no time after that they find themselves face to face with a door. A dark door contrasting the room they're in. They stop.

"This is where you leave, Killian Jones. Once you walk through this door, you'll be taken to where you belong." Her smile is serene as they turn to each other.

"Will I be able to see my family again then?"

"That is up to you." Killian frowns, confused. "Listen to your heart." Her hand lays flat on his chest, right above his fast beating heart. “It will take you where you belong.”

"And you?"

His question seems to surprise her and her laughter shows it. 

"There is no one more deserving than you, Killian Jones." She says with a bright smile as both her hands cup his cheeks, stopping him from looking away even as his cheeks tinge red. "Worry not, this is my duty, I will be alright."

Killian is ready to protest when the kiss the goddess lays on his forehead silences him. Even as a bitter taste coats his tongue, he nods.

"Go on, your happy ending awaits you." Persephone says as she nods and urges him towards the door.

"Thank you, your Highness." 

With a bow and an answering smile, Killian turns the knob on the door and walks through. 

Images of his childhood, of his mother's voice, of his brother's scolding when one of his pranks went wrong, of the smell of pastries and the laughter of three flour-covered people, flood his brain. How he misses them.

And then, green eyes, blonde hair, soft kisses and passionate kisses. He sees her smiles, so rarely given before, more and more constant as she let her walls down, as she let him bring her walls down. He sees the brown-haired boy's laughter, the boy who looks so much like the people he loved. 

He will never watch him grow. He will never see her smile again. He will never embrace them. He will never kiss her. He will never watch them laugh. He will never feel their love again.

His nostalgia for a past gone by, a past he lived through, a past that he will always remember fondly, is nothing to the yearning of a future he will never see happen, a future he won't witness.

His heart calls for them, for the Swan and her boy.

Killian finds himself in a graveyard, confused as to how it would be possible. His name is etched in the stone. He looks around, looking for answers. How is it that the beyond looks so much like Storybrooke?

And then he sees her.

Walking slowly, head down, her blonde hair swaying limply - the vision of mourning. Could it be?

"Swan?" He calls out.

And then she turns. Any pain, any suffering, any heartbreak is worth it. To see her face, to see her smile of recognition, to watch her run to him. To embrace her tight in his arms, her heart beating in sync with his.

And all he can do is thank her. Thank her for taking him where he belongs.

#carolina writes #ouat fic #ouat ff #cs fic #cs ff #captain hook #killian jones #emma swan #once upon a time #captainswan #persephone

[shares-a-vest]

Reformed Valentine's Day Grinch, Eddie Munson

Eddie Munson always hated Valentine's Day. As a kid it simply meant an afternoon of arts and crafts, fashioning innocent and platonic cards for classmates. Everyone was happy and included and Eddie would always take a card home for his mother who hugged him tight in thanks.

But as he entered high school, Valentine's Day became like a status symbol. It was all about who had a date with who. Who got the best and most flowers. And he always found himself in an insufferable Home Ec. class, hearing all about the grand romantic gestures of jocks like Steve Harrington.

"This is a nightmare," Robin Buckley had whispered to him one day as she plopped down on the stool next to him at a half-operational sewing machine.

The rest of their classmates were chirping about their Valentine's Day plans, gossiping about the dozen roses Nancy Wheller had received during first period.

"I just need today to be over," he groaned in return, discarding his stupid patchwork project for a t-shirt he was designing for Corroded Coffin.

By this point, Eddie knew himself better. He knew he wouldn't receive anything and he'd die before he dared send something to anyone else. And by the end of the day he'd go home feeling more like a freak than he already did. He'd go home to Wayne, who was equally grumpy and they'd watch tv and grumble at all the mushy and gooey commercials.

By Valentine's Day 1987, Eddie finds himself on the receiving end of some very different complaints from Robin Buckley. And finds himself dating King Giver of Roses, Steve Harrington.

When Robin spots Eddie as he waltzes into Family Video on the 13th, she stops in her tracks and leans forward over the counter.

"You better give him a good Valentine's Day, Munson," she threatens with a warning finger.

"Relax, Buckley, I've got it sorted," he laughs.

"Nope," she protests, shaking her head non-stop as she speaks. "You have to do everything he wants. He's got it all planned out. Just go with it because I'm not interested in hearing his complaints if it goes wrong."

She slumps back in her chair as Steve walks in from the back room, shucking on his Member's Only jacket, beaming.

"Bye," he sings to his best friend with a shit-eating grin. He leans down and kisses her on the cheek before practically skipping out from behind the counter.

"What's got you so happy?" Eddie teases, fluttering his eyelashes with feigned innocence.

Steve shrugs. "Just excited for tomorrow."

Robin groans and hangs her head in her hands.

"Doing anything with Steve today?" Wayne not-so-subtlely asks the following morning at breakfast.

"Yes, he's got it all planned out," Eddie replies, rolling his eyes.

It's far too early in the morning but Steve insisted he be up and ready to be picked up.

"Did you get him a card, at least?" Wayne asks, pursing his lips like he's getting ready to give Eddie a lecture based on how he responds.

"Yes!" he shoots back, confused as to how he let his uncle become some sort of third wheel in his relationship.

He's saved by a knock at the door.

Eddie Munson's Valentine's Day with Steve Harrington is perfect.

Steve leads him to a pretty patch of forest at the back of his house, a bright spot that has plenty of sunshine, a place that Eddie didn't think existed in the darkened and secluded Loch Nora. He lays out a blanket with a picnic he'd made (and probably woken up way to early to put together).

It's nice, despite the seclusion. He knows Steve is showing off and at peak confidence when he's in his flirting-slash-wooing mode. They don't dwell on the isolation though. There's just an awkward pause when they go over what the kids are going and Steve jokes that it gives him a day off chauffeuring the dweebs around.

Eddie lets Steve take the lead most of the day. He even allows for an (admittedly very romantic in its sappiness) slow dance to lame pop ballads in Steve's living room where he'd cleared aside some furniture.

"You okay, precious?" he asks when he feels Steve's nails digging into the back of his shirt as they sway.

Steve mumbles an incoherent answer, giving the faintest nod. Eddie drops it for the rest of 'Time After Time' but then he hears Steve sniffle.

He pries himself away, just enough to cup Steve's face in his hands and yep, he is crying. Valentine's Day wasn't supposed to be heartbreaking but, looking into Steve's reddening puppy dog eyes, it is.

Eddie tsks and rubs his thumbs under his eyes.

"Don't cry, Steve."

"I really love you," he chokes out before giving a heaving sob.

"Hey, hey, hey!" he says, searching for eye contact, waiting until Steve reluctantly looks up all red-cheeked and embarrassed. "I love you too."

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie: valentine's day edition #steddie ficlet

[lya-dustin]

All is bliss

Chapter 7

Cw: consensual infidelity, mentions of harassment, racism

Gif by @theonewiththeimaginaryboyfriends

Taglist: @mercedesdecorazon @sweethoneyblossom1 @aemondx @darylandbethfanforever9

She had not been here in ages.

Despite the furnishings still being covered everything put away, it was as if she were ten years old again.

Harwin’s things were still in the closet, one of Aemma’s bonnets had been forgotten on the hook at the door, her father’s boots were still under his desk and the nursery still had everyone’s heights etched onto it with mother’s knife.

The room had been tidied up discreetly after Alicent made her say where she would meet Aemond.

Nothing was to be spared to ensure an heir was born.

Once she was with child, it would end. Luckily, the tonic would be effective if she drank it religiously.

Was it wrong to want control over her body? Was it wrong that she wants to hold onto these moments with Aemond for as long as she could?

“Your mother knows about us.” She tells the figure sitting on the chair her mother used to sit on and sulk. Stare at the flames in the fireplace as if she could read the future through them like Alys Rivers who had pronounced her Aemma the Great and Aegon the Second during the last feast in Harrenhal.

“What did she say?” he asks, bit something in his tone tells her he is hiding something.

“You were right, your mother is the biggest hypocrite of all.” He had said with some affection and understanding of his mother’s psyche, she had said it as someone intimately familiar with her nastiness.

“You know then.” He said and she wondered what did he know?

Aemma nods and leads him to believe she knows what was told to him.

“I would not have pursued you if Aegon had not consented to it. You are my friend, before anything else, you are my friend, and I was prepared to never act out on my feelings for you had my brother not told of me of mother’s fucking scheme.” Aemond is a man of a few words and yet tonight the words just pour out of him.

Some with guilt, others resentment towards his mother and his brother and even regret.

But it is not the feeling that angers her, it is that she was the last to know about this arrangement.

“That I did not know.” Aemma balls her fist wanting something to take her anger out on.

She loves her mother, and she knows why she did what she did, but she never wanted to be her.

To have people laughing at her behind their hands, to stop being a person in their eyes and instead become something to be scorned.

To know her children will suffer just as Aemma and her brothers have.

Sure, Aemma was trueborn, but it didn’t stop people from speculating whether she looked Dornish because her skin color was more golden tan than brown and her eyes closer to Arryn blue like mother’s.

She does not want that life.

And yet three people decided that she must because gods forbid a woman come before a man in the succession.

“I will not be turned into my mother for your mother’s political goals.” She said, fighting angry tears.

“We can stop, if that is what you wish, Aemee.” Aemond doesn’t try to even stop her, doesn’t look at her from his own shame.

Shame because his mother and brother turned whatever feelings they had for each other into something they believed they could exploit.

She wanted Aemond, she had since the moment she saw how his face lit up when talking about Boethius that day in the library.

And she knows that rejecting him won’t stop them from putting men into her bed no matter how much she protests.

Gods know what they can do once their patience runs out.

“No. They would just find another man to replace you and I do not want to find out what happens then.

We do this on my terms. Not theirs. Never theirs.” She doesn’t mention the tonic.

Aemond cannot know that.

She no longer trusts him.

She cries quietly after, thinking he cannot tell, but he holds her and lets her mourn her freedom and what could have been.

“I’m sorry.” He punctuates his apology with a kiss to her shoulder after spending the night trying to make it up to her.

She had not accepted his apologies and yet let him spill inside her.

He hopes it doesn’t take. Once she is with a child, he will be married off to Cassandra Baratheon and sent away.

This his brother had made part of the deal this morning.

She is only yours until your seed gives me the son I need to get mother off my back, Aegon had said after sucker punching him for fucking his wife and then thanking him for his service with wine and the promise of Storm’s End.

How ironic that they fuck on Rhaenyra’s bed.

Aemma had chosen the room, knowing she becomes a second Rhaenyra the moment she took him up on his offer.

But she is not her mother, he is not Harwin.

Any child they have will look the right way, any resemblance to him mere coincidence.

He is perfectly fine being the doting uncle, nothing wrong if he cares about Aegon’s children when Aemond is unlikely to have his own any time soon.

That is horseshit and he knows it.

Aemond has envied Aegon ever since he was old enough to see everything just being handed everything because he was born first.

Even Rhaenyra was not as fawned over or as spoiled as Aegon even if she was father’s favorite child and future queen.

If mother could just open her fucking eyes and see Aemond was the king she sees in his wastrel of a brother everything would be different.

This would not be some convoluted scheme to give Aegon more things he doesn’t deserve at Aemond’s expense.

Aemma would be happy as his wife, knowing she has a man who cherishes her as she deserves and would never seek another because she is more than enough.

“I won’t keep nothing from you again, I should have told you.” He adds because she knows he means it.

“Too late for that now, isn’t it.” She said quietly, no longer crying, but still hurt by it all.

To Alicent’s disappointment, her gooddaughter’s moon blood comes just as Daenaera Velaryon is born.

Helaena is absolutely besotted with her baby daughter and while her husband does not care at all about the sex of the child ---why would he, the second son of a second son, care--- they need a son in case Aemond cannot impregnate his brother’s wife.

Aemma tries to hide it, but her relief is palpable.

She is not the naïve little girl most see.

No, she knows what is at stake and that in the event of her speaking up about the agreement, Alicent would choose her sons and have her killed on charges of adultery and treason.

Alicent is not above murder to protect her children.

The gods know why she does these things.

“Do not think you can get away with whatever trick you have up your sleeves, dear girl, sooner or later you will have a son and he will be king after his father.” Alicent speaks but it is her father’s words that leave her mouth.

#aemma velaryon #aemond targaryen x velaryon!oc #all is bliss fic #aemond x rhaenyra and laenor's! daughter #aegon ii x oc x aemond