#i don't think my future has looked that dark for a while now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dr3c0mix · 11 months

Note

Hi! I love your stuff, you’re a really good writer! Take your time if you ever get to this, don’t burn yourself out.

The scenario is a delusional yandere childhood friend/monster. Like the reader found it in the woods as a kid and they grew up playing until the reader had to move away. Now years later, the reader is back..and the monster thinks it has a mate again.

Imaginary More-Than-Friends

Yandere! Imaginary Childhood Bestfriend x GN Reader

an: I believe the few people will recognize this guy from my old posts, i figured i let him out of my little toy box of characters huehuehue. i have to say though that i'm very much attached to this one and i will not be accepting nsfw requests of this character in the future! sorry if its not really what you asked for though ._." i was a bit excited when i saw your request

CW: Coulrophobia, delusional yan, this one is a bit more intense than normal, kidnapping kind of, possessive themes

🦋 You have vague memories of your old house. Memories of playing around in your old room and the faint sounds of cicadas and rustling leaves from outside your bedrooms window felt like a blur.

🦋 The clearest memory of your childhood there was playing around in the woods by your backyard. You had a small clubhouse somewhere in the thicket of trees and other flora. It was a small red tent full of flower ornaments that you've weaved and little trinkets you found while exploring.

🦋 You also remember there being someone else in the woods with you every time you played, although you don't remember any neighbors with kids when you were younger. Even then you have foggy memories of talking to someone very close to you.

🦋 You feel the truck you're riding in turn a corner and you look up to see your old family house slowly appearing from behind autumn-colored trees.

🦋 As soon as the moving truck came to a stop, you opened the door after thanking the driver and got your bags, taking a good look at the large house in front of you.

🦋 The paint was chipping and most of the metal decor was rusting, but you can fix them up as soon as you move in. Your family had to move out pretty quickly for some unknown reason so you figured many of the things that were left were still there.

🦋 Turning the key in the lock and opening the door, you could have sworn you heard scurrying from inside the house, must have been an animal that got in from a window or something.

🦋 Somehow, the house didn't seem very dusty, even though it's been sitting unoccupied for years. The floor looks swept to an extent with piles of leaves looking to have been swept lazily to the sides of the rooms.

🦋 You wandered through the house, your memories coming back to you about the times you spent with your parents, all the while, you can hear faint scratching and thumping as you walk.

🦋 The tall figure skittered around house, watching you wander around from the corners with an unblinking stare. He couldn't believe it. You were here, you're back! And you're so much bigger than you were all those years ago...you look so beautiful now! A toothy grin widens on his face as his claws scratched the doorframe he was gripping, leaving deep scratches.

🦋 As you enter your old room, you see that the dusty bed still looks made, like it's been waiting for someone to sleep in it for years. Old toys with ribbons of your favorite color tied to their necks or wrists sat in their places by a fogged windowsill as paper cranes and insects on string and glow in the dark stars still hung on your ceiling.

🦋 Just as you were about to leave to get your things moved in, you hear your old closet creak open. You freeze and turn to it, it looked like there wasn't anything inside. You wait a bit before fucking off, not wanting to deal with any ghouls or the like at the moment...

🦋 The figure then breathes a sigh of relief as soon as you're out of earshot. It pushes itself out of the closet and onto the floor. Soon you will see each other, he promises. He just has to find the right time...

🦋 You'd find items missing and reappearing in strange places sometimes, it could've been just you forgetting where you placed them, but there's no way you could have misplaced your shoes in the sink or your sweater outside your window...

🦋 You'd also notice food that was left out being eaten, not by ants or rodents though, the bite marks were too large.

🦋 You weren't some dumb character in a horror movie, you could see the tell-tale signs of a haunting, but you didn't want to let go of the house, not after all the years of trying to buy it back and all the money you put into renovating it.

🦋 Your mind was put at ease somewhat when you found a group of raccoons rummaging through your trashcans next to a window with a broken window, they could've just been messing with your stuff and eating your food while you weren't looking. You took note that you had to fix the locks soon.

🦋 After a few tiring days of getting everything cleaned up and moving in your stuff, you look at your hard work and smile. Your furniture gave the home your own personal touch while still keeping the nostalgic charm of your childhood home. You sigh in satisfaction and decide to go out and get some fresh air.

🦋 You exit through your backyard door and, from what you can see, the woods hasn't changed a bit since you left. It made you smile knowing you personal little playground hasn't wasted away. You then remember your old hideout. A wave of memories come back to you as you rush to where you remember the little red fort was.

🦋 To your surprise, the tent was still up, in fact, you could see no sign of aging on it. No damage from rain or wind or anything, it's like it was frozen in time. You walk up to it, crouching down and lifting the red embroidered curtains of the entrance and revel in the little items that withstood the years it has been left here.

🦋 Although, you notice there being more things than you remember. Did you really collect all these thing when you were younger? There were bottles of soda can tabs and acorns, figurines of animals carved out of wood, were those animal bones??

🦋 You back away from the tent, very much weirded out by the new additions to your old hang out spot when suddenly, your body bumps into something. It felt thin like a tree but soft like a plush toy with burlap for the cover. Your eyes go wide as you hear a voice from above you. "(Y/N)?"

🦋 The familiar jingle of bells sparked something in you as you look up to meet the creature's porcelain face.

🦋 You stare at the figure like it would disappear if you look away from it as you step back to look at it better.

🦋 It was a clown, a tall one at that. Its white pupils stayed on you as you can see razor sharp teeth within its mouth. His limbs looked almost jointless like how a plush toy would look. It's clothes were brown and dirty from years of neglect.

🦋 What you were seeing wasn't human, it couldn't be human. It was too freakishly tall to be one. You didn't know what to do, running could provoke it to chase you and attacking could anger it.

🦋 Suddenly, it steps closer to you and bends down, you could feel its breath on your face, it unusually smelled like candycorn.

🦋 Then it chuckles, giving you a grin before suddenly picks you up and wraps its long arms around you, spinning around happily like a child holding their new toy.

🦋 "(Y/N)! (Y/N)! Oh I'm so happy to see you again! You've grown so much! Where did you go? What did you see? Did you...make any new friends?"

🦋 It pulls away from you and stops spinning only to see a terrified expression on your face. His smile drops and cocks his head to the side. "(Y/N)? Are you okay?" The bells on its jester hat jingle softly.

🦋 As your shock melts away, you figure he didn't have any intention of harming you and you try and catch your breath. Your eyes then catch a glimpse of ribbons tied around his wrists. It was your favorite color.

🦋 Your slowly look back up to the clown and you finally remember your old friend that you used to play with.

🦋 You had a favorite toy amongst your collection of stuffed animals and dolls. It was a strawberry pink clown with stretchy arms, you used to carry it around with you all the time. From the moment you wake up to going back to sleep, you had it with you. You named it..

🦋 "Hallow?"

🦋 The clown perks up at the name and its smile widens even more. "So you remember! Hahah! I was beginning to think you forgot all about me!" "Y-you're real?! I mean you were- but- h-how is this possible?!"

🦋 Hallow puts you down and gives you a confused look, pointing a finger to his cheek. "Real? Of course I'm real! I'm your best friend!" He giggles, spinning around joyfully.

🦋 "And I...left you here.." "Oh I don't mind! I'm sure you had a reason! Besides, you're here now and we can play again! And we can be together!" He takes your hands into his and squeezes them, his grip a bit shaky. Well, at least it won't be so lonely out here anymore...

🦋 From there, Hallow kept you company, he would help you out in fixing up the exterior of the house and tell you all about what's happened since you left.

🦋 "I saw a reeeaaallly big bear once! He looked all tubby and fluffy and stuff! I tried petting it but it bit my arm off! So rude right? At least I knew how to sew my arm back! Thanks for teaching me how by the way!"

🦋 He's a bit clingy, but he does give you space if you ask him. and by give you space i mean he just stares at you from the corner of the room instead of hovering over you the whole time.

🦋 He wasn't a fan of other people though, if ever a friend of yours visits or a delivery person drops by, he'd disappear in a flash, when they finally leave, he's unusually quiet until to ask if he was alright. When you turn away from him, his forced smile drops down to a sneer, thinking about the strange person that was trying to take you away from him...

🦋 Then one day, a friend of yours called and told you they were in the area and wanted to meet up with you. Hallow watched as you happily talked to your phone from the gap between your door, scratching the wood in jealousy. Who was making you so happy (Y/N)? Only he's supposed to make you laugh like that...

🦋 When your friend came, he disappeared once again. He watched you greet your 'friend' with a hug, being awfully touchy with them, holding their hand as you guide them to your couch.

🦋 He hated it, he hated them. He hated you happy you looked as you two laughed together. He wished it was him who was making you laugh, not this stranger. Infact, what made you think they were to be trusted? Wasn't it other people that made you leave him in the first place? Your dreaded parents were the reason you were taken from him, what makes you think your "friend" won't do the same. Before you know it, you could be taken back to the city, stressed and overwhelmed and away from him, your best friend, your only friend, your soulmate!

🦋 His spiraling thoughts were quickly interrupted by your friend getting up from their seat. "Alright, it's getting late..where's that mall again?" "Oh, you just turn right from the second street over." "Ok! I'll pick you up tomorrow at noon!" noon?

🦋 The door closes, and you hear the jingling of bells behind you. "Do you have to hide every time there's someone else he-" Your joking comment is cut off when you turn and he's looming dreadfully over you.

🦋 "What mall?" "H-huh?" He's glaring daggers into your eyes, taking a step closer to you as you back up, unease growing inside of you.

🦋 "What's at noon?" "H-hallow we're just going out-" "How long?" "H-how long?? I don't kno-" "Hours? Days? Years?" You're backed up against the wall, the giant clown's arms at either side of you, trapping you under him as black drool drips down his snarling mouth.

🦋 "How long are you gonna leave me this time huh? How many days am I gonna wait for you to come back to me?!" "Hallow stop you're scaring me!" "I'm supposed to be my best friend! Not them!" He snaps at you, making you flinch in fear. His glare softens then turns into a horrified expression. Pulling his hands back closer to him shakily as you shivered in front of him, your arms hiding your face. He lets out a quiver before stepping away from you. You lower your arms and he was gone, you can hear banging and thumping from upstairs.

🦋 The next day, you were getting ready for your outing with your friend. Hallow didn't show up that day. You weren't used to the silence that was left.

🦋 You haven't seen Hallow in a few days, but you always let out food for him. He was hurt, you can tell, but it was clear he needed space at the moment, you just hoped he didn't do anything rash as you went to bed a week after your fight with the clown.

🦋 You woke up the next day, expecting Hallow not to come out again. You get up from your bed and head downstairs. Calling out Hallow's name, no answer.

🦋 You sigh and figure you should get some much-needed fresh air. The tension that has built up in the house was almost suffocating to you. You went to your backdoor to spend some time outside.

🦋 But when you tried to open the door, it wouldn't turn. You tried unlocking it, but the lock wouldn't budge. You pulled and shook it but to avail. You groan and try to open a window instead, but the latch was shut tight. You tried the other windows but none of them opened. You started to freak out when you hear a jingle of bells behind you.

🦋 "H-Hallow? Why are the all the windows shut? The door's locked too!" You look to him, but he looked off. His normal wide-eyed smile was replaced with a half-lidded grin. He swayed side to side, clasping his hands together as he giggled. "Hello, you~"

🦋 "H-hey...what's going on?" You ask him, sweat rolling down the side of your head nervously.

🦋 "Well, I thought about what you said and I realized! You're not at fault here! You just want someone to be with! And I guess me being your friend wasn't good enough for you so you turned to someone else! I know you didn't mean to hurt me lovely, but I can change for you! I can be much more than a best friend! We can be like those knights and princesses in your storybooks, remember?"

🦋 He starts walking up to you, you hold onto the countertop behind you as he rambles on in a lovesick haze. "H-Hallow?"

🦋 "You won't need anyone else (Y/N)! You'll just need me from now on! We'll be together forever! Oh and don't worry about food and stuff, I can get you those!"

🦋 He chuckles, before pulling you into an uncomfortably tight hug, you flinch as you feel him kiss your neck and cheek, his sharp teeth grazing your skin ever so gently.

🦋 "You'll never have go away ever again, my f-...my love~"

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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 29 days

Text

Be Kind

I Know You're Chokin' on Your Fears (2)

Scarlet Witch x Witch!Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Summary: Mommy Wanda seems to be here to stay, but you're worried about just how long this will last

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, R calls SW Goddess, W refers to herself as Mommy, pet names (little one, pet, puppy), SW is abusive towards R, W takes care of R.

A/N: Wow look at all the fluff you guys get hahahahaha. Enjoy it while it lasts.

You lie in bed, eyes wide open, expecting any moment for the harshness to return. Your body still bears the tender bruises of the Scarlet Witch's punishments, but strangely, the pain hasn't been renewed. Every night, you brace yourself for the sting of red magic, but it never comes.

Tonight, as Wanda carries you to bed, a tremor of fear courses through you. Instinctively, you scramble off the bed, anticipating the punishment that never seems to fade. But Wanda is quick to scoop you back up, her touch gentle and soothing.

"It's okay, sweetie," she murmurs, her voice as soft as a lullaby. "Mommy's here now. She's gone, and I'm going to take care of you."

You cling to her, feeling the warmth of her embrace chase away the lingering shadows of fear. As she kisses away the imaginary boo boos, you can't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you.

In Wanda's arms, there is no malice, no cruelty—only love and tenderness. And as you finally allow yourself to drift off to sleep, you know that you're safe, protected by Wanda.

You wake up to the tantalizing aroma of breakfast wafting through the air, stirring you from your slumber. With a jolt of panic, you scramble out of bed, your mind racing with thoughts of apologizing and groveling at the Scarlet Witch's feet for not being up sooner to cook breakfast for her.

But as you enter the kitchen, ready to beg for forgiveness, you're met with a scene that stops you in your tracks. Wanda stands before the stove, her voice like honey as she sings along to music in a language you don't quite understand. Her movements are graceful and fluid as she moves about the kitchen, a vision of beauty and serenity.

You watch in awe, feeling honored to behold such a mesmerizing sight. Gone is the harshness of the Scarlet Witch, replaced instead by the gentle warmth of Wanda.

For a moment, you forget about the bruises and the pain, lost in the tranquility of the moment. And as Wanda turns to you with a smile, offering you a plate of breakfast, you realize that perhaps, just perhaps, there is hope for a brighter future—one filled with love, kindness, and the warmth of a mother's embrace.

As Wanda pets you gently, her touch sending a wave of comfort through you, she asks a question that catches you off guard. "Do you like being her pet?"

You hesitate for a moment, unsure of how to respond. "I do, it's just... I don't know what I did to make her hurt me so much," you confess, feeling a lump form in your throat. You curl in on yourself, as if trying to shield yourself from the pain of the memories.

Wanda's expression softens with understanding as she listens to your words. "I think it was my fault. I kept telling her to let up, but..." You trail off, the rest of the sentence left unspoken but understood between the two of you.

"Just want to be a good puppy...be a good baby," you admit, feeling a sense of vulnerability wash over you. You lift your gaze to meet Wanda's, something you haven't been able to do since the Scarlet Witch became stricter.

Her green eyes shining like sea glass on the beach at noon that you marveled at. Her eyes held compassion and empathy, reflecting the depths of her understanding. In that moment, you feel a glimmer of hope, knowing that perhaps, with Wanda by your side, you can find the strength to overcome the darkness that has clouded your days.

As Wanda pets you gently, her touch sending a wave of comfort through you, she asks a question that catches you off guard. "Do you like being her pet?"

Her green eyes shine with compassion and empathy, reflecting the depths of her understanding. In that moment, you feel a glimmer of hope, knowing that perhaps, with Wanda by your side, you can find the strength to overcome the darkness that has clouded your days.

Wanda's words wash over you like a soothing balm, easing the turmoil within your heart. You bury your face into her hand, seeking solace in her touch as she cups your cheek.

"Oh sweet girl, you are good. It was nothing you did. It was Mommy's fault. She didn't like me treating you with kindness. Thought you'd like me better than her," Wanda reassures you, her voice filled with tenderness.

At the mention of possibly liking Wanda more than the Scarlet Witch, you snap to attention, panic seizing your heart. "No! No! Would never! She has to know that!" you protest, pushing up onto your knees, your head butting into Wanda's chest.

Wanda chuckles softly, her arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. "Shhh, sweet girl. She knows. She's just... well, you know. She wants you all to herself, but doesn't know how to express that properly," she explains, her words laced with understanding. “You see the two of us have been through a lot before meeting you and I think she's still hurting over all of it.”

You tilt your head in confusion, trying to make sense of Wanda's words. "Are you still hurting over it?" you ask softly, your heart aching for the pain you sense in Wanda's voice.

"In a way, yes," Wanda admits, her gaze distant for a moment. "But when we met you and how much love you already had for us... well, you had love for her. I don't even know if you knew about me."

You shake your head, recalling the information you had stumbled upon years ago. "Wanda Maximoff. Avenger. Neuroelectric interface, telekinesis, and mental manipulation," you recite, a sense of pride swelling within you at the memory of your own resourcefulness.

Wanda tilts her head and smiles, her nose scrunching up in a way that fills you with butterflies. "A smart little puppy we have," she says, her words wrapping around you like a warm embrace. And in that moment, as you gaze up at her with adoration in your eyes, you know that you've found a mother's love in the Scarlet Witch's gentle counterpart.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few weeks go by with Wanda, bruises all gone and everything that had been aching you was all gone.

As Wanda finished dressing you up in the cute outfit she had picked out, you couldn't contain your excitement. It was a first for you - going out with Wanda. Your Goddess always left you at home when she had errands to run, but Wanda was different. She was making a day out of it, and you couldn't wait to spend time with her.

You bounced around the living room, the anticipation bubbling within you. Wanda had dressed you in a pair of adorable shorttalls and a baby pink crop top, complete with cute socks and matching pink converse. She had even pulled your hair back into a half-up do with a three-strand braid, although it had taken her well over an hour thanks to your excitement.

"Oops, sorry Mommy!" you would exclaim each time you accidentally messed up the braid, turning around to see Wanda patiently fixing it yet again.

Eventually, though, she managed to get your hair under control, and she quickly got herself dressed in something much simpler. She wore a black tank top under a white see-through shirt, capris leggings, sunglasses perched on top of her head, and sneakers. Her hair was styled in a casual half-up bun.

As you stood side by side with Wanda, excitement coursing through your veins, you couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment. With each step you took, you felt a sense of freedom and joy that you hadn't experienced in a long time. And as you walked out the door with Wanda by your side, you knew that this would be a day to remember.

As you walked through the portal with Wanda, excitement coursing through you, you found yourself on the outskirts of a small town. The vibrant energy of the bustling village market filled the air, drawing you in like a magnet.

But before you could dash off into the crowd, Wanda gently reminded you of the rules. You let out a whine, tugging on her arm, but she held firm.

"1. Don't let go of your hand, 2. Don't talk to strangers, 3. I must call you Mommy," you repeated obediently.

Wanda smiled, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. "Good girl. Now we can go have fun."

Hand in hand, you and Wanda ventured into the village market, taking in the sights and sounds around you. The market was a vibrant tapestry of colors and smells, with vendors selling everything from fresh fruits and veggies to handmade pieces of art.

You marveled at the array of goods on display, feeling a sense of excitement building within you. It had been so long since you had been around people, and you had almost forgotten how nice it was to interact with others.

As you wandered through the market, a kind old lady caught your eye. She was sitting at a stall, surrounded by handmade stuffed animals, each one more adorable than the last. Your eyes lit up as you spotted a little possum nestled among the other creatures.

The old lady smiled warmly at you, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Would you like this little possum, dear?" she asked, her voice gentle and kind.

You nodded eagerly, feeling a surge of affection for the cute creature. "Yes, please!" you exclaimed, reaching out to take the stuffed animal from her.

The old lady's eyes sparkled with delight as she handed you the possum, her heart touched by your enthusiasm. "I'm so glad someone finally showed interest in the little one," she said, her voice tinged with emotion.

You hugged the stuffed possum close to your chest, feeling a connection with it unlike anything you had felt before. And as you looked up at Wanda, the woman who had shown you love and kindness when you needed it most.

Wanda's gesture of kindness towards the old woman warms your heart as you watch her pull out her coin purse, ready to pay for the stuffed possum you've grown so fond of. But the old woman holds up a hand, a gentle smile on her face.

"Nothing. I've had him for ages, and no one's ever taken interest in him," she says kindly, her eyes twinkling with gratitude.

Wanda returns the smile, her eyes soft as she looks down at you. "Can you say thank you, little one?" she asks, bending down slightly to catch your attention.

You look up at the old lady, feeling a surge of gratitude for her generosity. "Thank you," you say shyly, your voice filled with sincerity.

With a nod of appreciation, Wanda leads you away from the stall, the stuffed possum held securely in your arms. "Let's go grab the fruits and veggies we need before the sun goes down," she suggests, her voice filled with warmth.

The rest of the day passes in a blur of laughter and joy as you and Wanda explore the market together, picking out fresh fruits and veggies for dinner. You end the day on a sweet note, indulging in homemade ice cream from a stall before heading back home.

As you walk hand in hand with Wanda, the stuffed possum nestled against your chest, you can't help but feel grateful for the love and kindness she has shown you. And as the sun sets on another day, you know that you are exactly where you belong.

As you lay on the couch, cocooned in warmth and comfort, you revel in the tranquility of the moment. With Nugget, your newfound stuffed possum, nestled in your arms, you feel a sense of peace wash over you.You were on the couch curled up with your Mommy, your eyes closed and a blanket covering you now clad in your pajamas. Wanda rubbed your back while reading a book, not the book the Scarlet Witch possesses. Though you couldn't understand the language so you assumed it was Sokovian. Your eyes flutter closed, exhaustion tugging at your senses as you sink into the embrace of sleep.

But suddenly, a rough tug on your jaw jolts you awake, fear coursing through your veins as you come face to face with the familiar sight of red eyes looming over you. The voice that speaks is harsh and commanding, sending shivers down your spine.

"Did you miss me, pet?" the Scarlet Witch demands, her tone sending a wave of panic through you.

Without hesitation, you nod, your heart pounding in your chest as you scramble to get off the couch. But in your haste, you lose your balance and land hard on your knees, pain shooting through your limbs as you look up at your goddess who has finally returned.

In that moment, as you gaze up at her with a mixture of fear and reverence, you realize that despite the fleeting moments of calm and happiness you've experienced with Wanda, the Scarlet Witch's hold over you is as strong as ever.

#ley speaks #ley writes #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff fluff #scarlet witch #the scarlet witch x fem!reader #scarlet witch x you #scarlet witch x reader #the scarlet witch

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darby-rowe · 3 months

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༊*·˚ princely.

coriolanus snow x dark!fem!reader

word count 1.5k cw dark themes, NONCON SOMNOPHILIA, dead dove do not eat, reader has a gross internal monologue, handjob, coriolanus is unaware of his assault, not proofread notes hey! i don't condone anything described in this fic irl! what the reader does here is gross and is literally assault. PLEASE HEED THE CONTENT WARNINGS BECAUSE SHIT GETS WEIRD! got it? good. then pls enjoy ♡ wanna give a quick thanks to my mutual @shellxrls for inspiring me to write more dark content, and for encouraging me to post this. if it wasn't for her, this fic would have never seen the light of day.

Your fingernails grip so hard into the blanket you fear you may rip the soft fleece from its stitches. Staring down at the beautiful boy sleeping next to you in your bed, looking so utterly soft and peaceful. You watch his chest rise up and down slowly with each breath he takes, studying how his muscles move beneath his skin. His soft blonde curls sprawl delicately across his face. You didn’t even know it was possible to look so princely while you slept, but Coriolanus Snow was living proof.

You had previously allowed Coriolanus to stay at your apartment for a few days while his place went under renovations, courtesy of his newfound inheritance of the Pinths’ fortune. He was your best friend after all, so who were you to deny him hospitality?

But on the first night of him sleeping in your bed, you find yourself questioning every aspect of your moral compass now that you had him beside you looking so vulnerable. Your fingers twitch. The temptation is nearly killing you. He’s most likely deep within some kind of dream, so…

Before your mind comprehends what you’re doing, your hand is on his smooth, toned chest, feeling him breathe underneath your touch. You want to pull your hand away, to stop before you start, but your hand feels as if it’s stuck to his smooth skin. What’s happening? Why aren’t you stopping yourself? Oh god, Coryo looks so hot when he sleeps. Is he dreaming? Is he dreaming about you? If he’s dreaming about you, then surely that means he’s into you, so he wouldn’t mind if you were to just—

Before you could realize what you’re doing, your hand is moving further down south Coriolanus’s torso, heeding every single physical and verbal cue that could indicate he’s waking up. You bite down hard on your lip — almost a bit too hard — as your hand approaches closer and closer to the waistband of his boxers. So crisply pristine, a pearly white color, almost too perfect. Did he not have a single pair of ruined underwear? Surely he must have a pair in the hamper with his cum stains painting the front. Maybe even multiple pairs. Yeah, multiple pairs of ruined underwear caused by Coriolanus’s physiology. The thought makes your pussy throb, and you look down as you thumb the waistband of his boxers.

But you decide to not venture towards the promised land just yet. Instead, you ghost your fingertips over the print of Coriolanus’s large cock. You have to swallow hard as your mouth waters, frantically flicking your eyes back and forth from his face to your hands. You think to yourself, is it too late to turn back? Could you still save yourself from the horrifying embarrassment of getting caught touching your friend in his sleep?

A small groan escapes his throat, and at the speed of light you retract your hand and wait for further instruction. Coriolanus does not open his eyes, but you still wait a few moments before putting your hand back.

Oh, Coryo. Oh sweet, princely, beautiful Coryo — if only he could see how pretty he looks right now resting his soft curls on your pillows, then maybe he’ll understand why you’re doing what you’re doing. Just can’t help myself, you think.

You really begin to think about the circumstances. You’re a hot girl. You’re insanely hot with a sharp tongue and even sharper brain. You have ambitions, goals, and fully thought out plans for the future. You’re perfect girlfriend and wife material. Would Coriolanus really be bothered by someone like you touching him in his sleep? In fact, he would probably be grateful.

Ugh, no! What? Stop thinking like that. You’re so full of yourself you’re choking on your own ego. You’re a violator. A venomous pervert. A venomous, conniving, irresistibly hot pervert.

You sigh to yourself. Your brain just keeps thinking in circles and in circles and in circles and in circles. You can’t be doing this. Just a little won’t hurt? This is as far as you’ll go. He won’t even mind at all because you notice the way he looks at you like you’re a lamb for the slaughter. This isn’t right. You can’t be doing this. Just a little won’t hurt?

The room temperature rises. A lining of sweat appears on your hairline as you continue to lightly ghost your fingers over the print of Coriolanus’s hardening cock. He’s starting to make noises more frequently. He must be dreaming now.

You dare to whisper, see if maybe your voice will bleed into his dreams. You’re dying to know how he’ll react. Ever so softly, his name escapes your lips like a delicate puff of smoke from inhaling a cigarette.

“Coryo,”

You wait.

You wait for a moan, a sigh, a physical response.

Nothing.

You say a silent prayer to yourself before leaning in closer, attempting to manipulate his dreams once more.

“Coryo, I’m here,”

You perk up as a tiny moan escapes Coriolanus’s mouth, and even more exciting, his cock twitches beneath your fingertips.

This was your sign to keep going.

Carefully, you retract your hand and drool a generous amount of saliva onto your fingers and in the palm of your hand before slipping your hand underneath the waistband of his boxers. And as your fingers made contact with his hardening cock, you shiver.

Your entire body flares up with goosebumps and your pussy throbs and aches almost instantly. You have to take a moment to yourself before you begin stroking him, to just hold his shaft within your perverted, filthy hand. Your heart is beating so fast that you’re afraid you might pass out before you can indulge in the fun.

Your hand trembles as you begin to stroke him, keeping a light yet generous grip as you pump his cock up and down. He’s beginning to moan more loud than before, and more frequently. You think to yourself about how you could cum right then and there just from feeling his dick and listening to him moan.

It’s dark in your bedroom, but your eyes adjusted a while ago, giving you a fair view of Coriolanus’s cock in your hand. You swipe your thumb across his slit, and for a moment you stop as a sharp gasp emits from the sleeping boy. But when he shows no sign of waking up, you continue.

“So big…” you whisper to yourself, voice barely audible. You feel his cock begin to leak with pre-cum and you slick up his shaft with his own bodily juices, making your hand pump his cock more smoothly as you pick up the pace.

You wonder to yourself if you could even get away with straddling his hips to sit down on his dick, slowly impaling yourself as your tight pussy envelops him in his sleep. How would he react? You can picture it now: you, stripped of your panties and nightgown, tits bouncing up and down as you ride his cock. Eventually, he’ll stir awake to the image of your hot body on top of him, moaning and whimpering sweetly. And he won’t fight back, oh no. Because you’ve seen the way he looks at you — you don’t think he knows how you study the way he licks his lips as he eyes you up and down. Your pussy is on his mind 24/7. He’s obsessed with you. You’re surprised he hasn’t tried to touch you in your sleep. You’d welcome the sentiment, though, as your eyes would slowly flutter open to the sight of Coriolanus pounding his cock into you. You wouldn’t tell him to stop.

Would he tell you to stop?

You’d like to think so. But you can’t afford to think of alternate versions of this night as your hand is now thoroughly pumping his cock in a proper handjob. Coriolanus mewls and twitches in his sleep, and your mind can’t begin to comprehend how hot he looks completely at your mercy.

“Pretty, so pretty,” you whisper. “Don’t even know I’m fisting your fucking cock, yeah? Wish this was my pussy? Wish I was fucking you in your sleep instead of giving you this lousy handjob?”

You don’t know what comes over you as you lean down to kiss his sleeping lips, and before you know it, he’s lazily grunting as he spills his cum all over your hand.

And you’re so turned on you feel more as if you have to pee more than anything. Your pussy pulsates as you feel his cock throb underneath your hand, and you have to practically force yourself to pull your hand away and lay back down.

Mere seconds after his orgasm, you feel and hear Coriolanus stir and wake up. He mumbles a curse word under his breath as he assesses his sticky situation.

You just lay there, with your hand still covered in his cum, as a deep, dark dread fills your chest. Someone pours liquid lead into your heart as reality settles back in for you.

What have I done?

darby-rowe, 2024. do not plagiarize my content, nor distribute my content onto any other website like AO3, etc. my writing is exclusive to tumblr only.

#♡; dally writes!#dead dove do not eat #cw noncon #cw somnophilia #cw noncon somno #fem!reader #fem reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow smut #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #thg tbosas #tbosas #x reader #x reader fanfiction #x reader smut

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nerdofspades · 1 year

Text

Bruce looked at the pop-up on the Batcomputer's screen.

"Explain," he growled, glancing down at Tim.

"Not much to explain," Tim answered, pulling up lines of code. "It showed up ten seconds ago."

"I'm starting a full diagnostic," Barbara said, voice filtering through the speakers. "So far, I'm not seeing anything."

"And yet..." Time trailed off glancing at the window again. It had a video queued up to play and the words "IMPORTANT: PLEASE WATCH. DO NOT DELETE" in large text at the top.

"There's a new folder labeled 'a gift for Batman,'" Tim said. "Not something any of us made."

"Clearly."

"I'm still not finding any viruses, corrupted files, or spyware," Oracle said. "The new folder was programmed to stay in a hidden partition for a few days after it was placed. Then, obviously, the pop-up to catch our attention."

"Folder also has a text file named 'security notes,'" Tim said. "Maybe our new hacker is friendly?"

"It's starting to look like it," Oracle agreed. "The video is clean. It should be safe to watch."

Bruce sighed. "Then let's see what they've got for us."

The video opened with a dark room. The background hidden in shadows, while the foreground was well lit, letting them clearly see the tired teen in the center of the frame as he took a heavy swig from his mug before putting it down.

"Pulling up facial recognition."

He ran a hand through his messy black hair and then down his face, pinching his nose and hiding the bags under his blues eyes for a moment before he dropped his hand and finally looked at the camera.

"I really don't want to do this," he said, "but you need it." He glanced longingly off screen in the direction of the mug he'd put down.

"First of all, I think I should apologize for hacking you. Or asking my friend to, technically. I just. You need to know about this and I didn't know of another way to get it to you that would be secure.

"I did at least make him promise to make a record of how he got in so you can patch that.

"That out of the way... to business? I'm Danny Fenton, for the last year or so I have also been the hero Phantom in Amity Park. My parents are Jack and Maddie Fenton. They are ectobiologists and ghost hunters. While extremely biased and not actually that good at catching ghosts, their tech is easily the best in the business."

"That's a positive match."

"Running a search on Phantom."

"I- fucking shit." Danny put his head in his hands again, running them back through his hair before leaning back, almost collapsing into the chair.

"This kid has... gotten into some shit."

"Everyone knows you're the League's strategist, Batman. And. I'm strong enough. I can handle my problems, that's not what I'm worried about.

"It's been about a year and I've already been mind controlled once." Danny laughed. A dry, broken, almost desperate laugh. "And that was just some lowlife that wanted to rob jewelry stores. I'm still not worried about. It's not why I'm sending you this. The magic relic he used is broken and gone now."

"Well that explains one of his problems."

"The others?"

"An attempted kidnapping and fairly standard property damage. I want to see some footage of those fights before passing judgement."

"Even more standard given he doesn't seem to have a mentor. Batman, he was fourteen."

"No. I. I've seen a version of the future. One where I go mad. Where I snap. And the Justice League can't stop me.

"I don't know if I- he kills everyone. I don't know who, if anyone, makes it out. But it's not anyone that could really do much. I... I saw ten years after he- I snapped. Earth was little more than rubble and ash. Only one city was left holding out and it was about to fall- was falling when I got there.

"I've managed to change the time line. What broke him didn't happen here. But. I can't guarantee nothing ever could.

"So. Yeah. Next best thing is making sure you're prepared. All my powers. All my weaknesses. Everything I know of that could possibly hurt me. Schematics and blue prints for anything you could need to fight me, track me, keep me out, keep me contained. All nice and giftwrapped for your convenience.

"Uh... that's everything. Why is it always so awkward to end a video? Hopefully we never see each other? I guess? Pretty sure us actually meeting is gonna be a bad sign.

"You know what. I'm gonna turn this thing off now before I say something stupid."

"Batman, who's 'Phantom'?" Superman asked, glancing up from the Watchtower computer he was working at. "Aren't we supposed to vote on new members?"

Batman grunted. "He's not a member, just someone who understands the need for contingencies."

"You know what, I'm not gonna even ask."

"Probably for the best."

#dp x dc #bruce wayne #batman #danny phantom #dc #batman's contingincies #tim drake #barbara gordon

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blondwhowrites · 1 month

Note

Hi Bae, so it was my time with the brain cell, and it just came to my mind... how do you think mattheo would react to a pregnancy scare???

And I don't mean the "Oh, I'm a day late, I might be pregnant," bullshit, I mean the real scares when your period decides to come like two weeks later than usual just for funsies

(That brain cell must be working overtime because this idea is sending me)

He's panicking like an actual 'I'm going to have a panic attack' moment. You haven't had your period in over a month, and the possibility of you being pregnant is looking quite high. His father is the fucking dark lord, and his mother is clinically insane and in wizard prison. He has no idea how to be a father.

He's scrambling toward Draco and Theo. He's getting out a blank letter and writing to Narcissa (his real mother, because fuck Bellatrix) asking for advice and ways to help support you.

Throughout the entire situation, the thought of leaving you and the potential baby never crossed his mind.

While he's running around panicking, you're just kind of chilling in the background because it hasn't hit you yet that you could be pregnant. You're just waiting for the results from the pregnancy test to come back.

It comes back negative and he's internally relieved but atleast now he has everything he needs to prepare for the future 🤷

He's also buying you extra birth control potions from now on.

#harry potter #slytherin boys #mattheo riddle blurb 🐍#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #reader insert #harr

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anisespice · 1 year

Text

“ hate your boyfriend ” || tokyo rev.

two

synopsis: aw, your boyfriend hates when he’s around? good.

pairing: college!toman x gn!reader

warnings: mature language, toxic!toman, possessiveness, reader is sort of an enabler, implied cheating, slight angst for the partner (rip lol), open-ended, maybe a little unrealistic?? i think that’s it.

notes: there's just something about them knowing they're the shit & and can't nobody check them for it <333 i don't condone making your partner jealous/uncomfy in real life...but i be kicking my feet when it's in tokyorev lol hope you enjoy!

tagged: @fantasycantasy ( if you'd also like to be tagged in future works, feel free to join my taglist <333)

"Be nice." Famous last words spoken to your boyfriend before you went to greet MIKEY upon his arrival. You were having a little kickback at your place, and it only made sense that your closest friend got to be there as well, despite how they felt about one another.

It went well…for about five minutes.

Now, you stood between them as tensions arose, hands on your boyfriend’s chest to keep him pushed back while Mikey had no issue with fueling the fire, practically daring the bastard to swing first. It didn’t help that they’d drawn in a crowd, drunk instigators no doubt praying for a bloody brawl to liven up the once chill atmosphere. You don’t even know who started it, but you had a pretty good idea who was gonna finish it if things didn’t get under control.

“Aki, please, you promised you wouldn’t do this…”

“I didn't even do anything, he’s the one with the shitty attitude! Knew you shouldn't have invited him in the first place. And I'm sick of you always defending him, what exactly is this guy to you, [______]?"

Mikey kissed his teeth. “Such a nag. Can’t believe they have to fuck you-”

“Manjiro.” You hissed, sending him a warning glance.

He merely grinned, head tilted as he shamelessly cooed, “Yeah, angel?”

“The fuck you call them?” Aki pressed, taking a step closer. You planted your feet, preventing him from going any further. “Say it again, see what happens.”

Mikey shrugged, “Okay.” Leaning forward off the wall, he gently nudged your chin with his index finger, making you look directly in his eyes. “Yeah, angel?”

“You son of a—” Aki raised his fist, ready to swing; just what Mikey was hoping for. But, you were quick you latch onto the winding arm. No doubt he’d miss, then you’d have to explain why there’s a sandal-print on his face when he wakes up.

“He’s just kidding! Mikey has a, uh, crude sense of humor, always saying what’s on his mind at the wrong times. Never a dull moment.” You chuckled, nervously. “He didn’t mean anything by it…right?”

Sending him a pleading glance, Mikey remained unphased. The dark-haired gang leader eyed your boyfriend for a good, long minute. His dead eyes made the guy feel unsettled, especially since Mikey tended not to blink for periods of time. There were so many things he wanted to say at that moment, so many late night visits Aki knew nothing about—But, there’ll be plenty of opportunities for that later. He’ll play it cool. For now.

Mikey’s stare never wavered as his posture remained relaxed, his aura alone stunning the whole room to silence. The bystanders watched with bated breath. When the pools of obsidian refocused on you, he gave a reassuring wink. Aki didn’t take too kindly to that, stepping backward and taking you with him. The delinquent scoffed, but bit his tongue; he may have won the battle. But there's always the war.

With clenched teeth and a hollow smile, Mikey replied with a simple, “‘Course not. We’re all just friends here.”

Unbothered would be an understatement when describing how DRAKEN felt knowing how negatively your boyfriend felt toward him. Frankly, all he needed was a reason, and he'd happily knock the guy straight out of his shoes. But, for your sake, he remained...cordial.

He also pretended not to hear your little argument in the next room, feet propped up on the coffee table with his arms draped behind the couch, wearing an all too complacent grin knowing he was the subject matter. Again.

"Do you think I'm a fucking idiot!?" Your boyfriend exclaimed, frustrated. Draken couldn't help but snort, wanting so badly to answer the question for you with a fat yes. "I've seen the way he looks at you, we’ve all seen it, so don’t act like I’m the one with the problem!"

“Takeru, just calm down, there’s nothing going on between us-”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” The sound of something shattering, followed by your shriek, made the mechanic perk up in mild alarm; amusement no longer painted his face.

Alright, he thought. Here comes that reason.

It only took him a few strides to get to your bedroom door, nearly splitting the wood in two after he kicked it in. Startling the both of you, Draken’s first priority was to check on your well-being, scanning your person for any visible injury. Luckily, you just appeared to be shaken up a little. Once he was certain, the former blonde directed a hard look toward Takeru, then down at the lamp he just broke. Draken worked his jaw—He gifted you that lamp.

“Kenny…” you said, cautiously. You could sense his impending rage from mere inches away, and you knew your boyfriend would only keep poking the bear. And you’d be correct. “I-It was an accident. Things just got a little out of hand, that’s all-”

“The hell you still doing here, baldy? Thought I told you to-”

Draken chuckled, menacingly. Your partner fell silent, wondering what was so funny, while you just closed your eyes in defeat; you knew that sound meant nothing good. His gunmetal eyes leered down at the pitiful man, cracking his neck before he calmly spoke.

“So we’re just breakin’ shit now, huh. Alright. My fucking turn.”

“I thought you said you'd quit hanging out with him, [_____]! He’s nothing but trouble, have you forgotten he set my roommate’s car on fire?!”

“Tsk. He had it comin’.” Was BAJI’s response, digging through your snack cabinet for a bag of chips. Once he found them, he opened them and began munching away, a bored expression on his face. “Bastard almost ran over Patches, driving around like an asshole. But, he hangs out with you all day, so guess that checks out.”

Referring to one of the building’s stray cats that come around from time to time, you couldn’t help but snort, but you knew he was dead serious—Man doesn’t play about his furry friends.

“Who gives a shit about some stupid-?!” You quickly covered your boyfriend’s mouth before he said anything he’d regret. He wasn’t too pleased, but at least he’d get to keep his teeth.

You exhaled, then directed a frown at the ravenette. “Honestly, I wish you two would try to get along. I think you’d find that you really aren’t so different once you got to know one another.”

“Me? Getting to know that? Fat chance.”

Glaring, your boyfriend ripped away your hand. "Oh, like you're so easy to swallow?"

"Hm, your s/o thinks so."

"Keisuke!"

“The fuck’s that suppose to mean, gutter-trash?” Your boyfriend seethed, turning to you instantly and expecting an explanation. Your eyes were wide, and you waved your hands rapidly to deny the implication. “[_____], what is he talking about?!”

“N-Nothing! God, you always let him get under your skin so easily, Makoto. He’s just being a dick, that’s all…”

Your boyfriend didn’t look convinced in the slightest, brows tight with an upturned lip as he huffed in anger. You shrunk beneath his gaze, stuck without any bandaid words to fix it. Luckily, since Baji was in such a good mood, he decided to relent—It’s no fun when you’re the one suffering the consequences of his crassness. Finishing up the last of the chips, the arsonist crumpled up the bag and tossed it at dude’s face.

“Wha-!”

“Yeah, hot shot, don’t get your panties inna twist. I’m just messin’ with you. We cool?” Baji threw up a fist, fangs on display as he gave an unhinged grin. Makato flinched, but tried to play it off. With hesitancy, your boyfriend eyed the fist with contempt.

“Fuck you. And that ugly-ass cat.”

Probably wasn’t the best thing to say with a fist inches away from his face. Makoto might’ve hesitated; Baji didn’t. So much for getting to keep his teeth.

“You’re a freaking angel, thank you so much for doing this,” MITSUYA gushed, arms snaking around your middle in a warm hug the moment you stepped into the studio. Did he place his hands a little lower than necessary? Maybe.

You chuckled, returning the hug. “Y’know I’d never say no to a free meal."

He had called you for a favor to model a few of his latest designs, needing to make adjustments accordingly before presenting them at the end of the week. His usual canceled on him last minute, putting him in a really tight spot, and you just so happened to be the same size. By offering to buy you dinner for your troubles afterward, it was a win-win for everyone.

Your boyfriend, on the other hand, saw right through Mitsuya. Which was why he so eagerly volunteered to tag along. The lavender-haired designer eyed the guy from over your shoulder, disinterested. "Oh. Didn't know you were bringing him."

"Got a problem with that, Mitsy?"

"Hey now, no bickering you two.” You playfully warned, pulling back from the hug. You fixed Mitsuya an apologetic smile. “I hope it's not too much trouble that he’s here, though. I always tell him how fantastic your designs are, so I guess he wanted to see them for himself. Isn’t that right, Haji?”

Said third-wheel grinned sharply, arms crossed as he sarcastically replied, “Oh, yeah. Can’t wait to watch ya. Very closely.”

Mitsuya deadpanned. But, his brow lessened in weight at the feeling of you tugging on his shirt, pouting at him as your eyes practically dazzled him into compliance. “Please, can he stay?"

It didn't take much for him to cave. Whether you’re aware of it or not, you had the delinquent wrapped around your finger. He sighed, then reluctantly agreed. It’s worth seeing the bright smile on your face, and especially worth the look on Hajime's when you wrapped your arms back around him in gratitude. "Thanks, Taka!"

Mitsuya didn't bother masking the smug grin he shot at your boyfriend, watching him struggle to hold his temper. "Anything for you. But, I’m not paying for his meal."

#🍁vanilla #part 2 mayhaps???#idk mayhaps :/#tokyorev #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev angst #tokyo rev x reader #tokyorev x reader #mikey #draken #mitsuya #baji

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gatitties · 8 months

Note

Hi :D

I was wondering if you would make a tokyo revengers scenarios about bonten Mikey,Koko, Sanzu and Rindou if they had a S/O who showed love through touch? Pretty please!!!

^_^

(Ps love ur work <3)

─Bonten!Mikey, Koko, Sanzu & Rindou x reader

─Summary: you are a person of physical touch as a sign of affection, that's all!

─Warnings: slight mention of drugs, maybe a little angst with sanzu¿

aww ty and sure! this is so cute 🫣

"Not now."

Mikey's firm voice made you step back with a grimace, you had tried to wrap your arms around his waist in an attempt at a hug, but he wasn't such a fan of physical affection, at least not during a meeting with his executives, he would always be more emotional in private.

His eyes glanced at your hunched figure in the side chair. You stopped paying attention to the meeting, doodling on the paper on the table with a pout, Mikey rolled his eyes at your silent complaints, you were a spoiled brat, that's for sure.

You looked up from the paper when you felt a slightly warmer part of your thigh, you exchanged glances with him who had something similar to a hidden smile, his hand rested on you so that you would stop the childish attitude when he couldn't get your hugs now, you settled yourself enough to last another hour listening to the boys even though you had nothing to do with it, you were only there because you were hoping to bury your face in mikey's chest.

"You're too impatient."

"You also get impatient if you don't have your taiyakis when you order them."

You pressed your arms over his abdomen, once out of the public eye you were really clingy considering you couldn't show your affection all the time, Mikey didn't care much, he would let you be on top of him as long as you didn't bother him too much, you usually fall asleep while he finishes some things at his desk and on the nights he can't sleep ─almost all of them─ he caresses your head while you imprison him with your body in a strange hold worthy of wrestling.

He is not a lover of physical contact but at the same time he enjoys it, sometimes he ends up lost in his deepest thoughts, his nightmares, his life decisions, all the shit he has behind him and everything he is doing now, how he came at this point in his life… he always thinks that he should just disappear, erase everything he did or try to change it even though he knows it's too late, but then he feels your arms on his shoulders, your body resting next to his.

"Hey, it's not worth it if I'm the only one who hugs you, you have to do it too!"

His body moved only because you were the one who placed his hands on your waist, he sighed, recognizing your scent as he approached your body, resting his head on the curve of your shoulder, at least, these small moments brought him back to earth, back in your arms, away from all those dark thoughts about his life, whether past or future, he was able to find some comfort in your way of showing affection.

Kokonoi is a busy man, being in one of the most wanted mafias in Japan also doesn't leave him room for a schedule with many vacations or breaks, but you always seem to know when to show up to be on top of him like a tick, wanting to just stay in touch for pure pleasure and what could he do? Despite not being the most interested in love in a physical way, it wasn't that bad.

"Oh, there you are, I knew you had a break."

"Are you looking at my schedules? That's harassment, honey."

"Oh… then I'll just look for another person to give all my love and affection to since you don't want it."

You smiled shamelessly pretending to be angry at his accusations, Koko denied seeing your silly game, he approached you knowing what you had come to do just now that he had a small pause, when you felt his hands on your shoulders you immediately turned around with the widest smile, crushing him in a hug.

"I've missed you."

"It's only been two hours since the previous break."

"Too much time! You were supposed to have a day off and you promised me we would cuddle all day and do nothing else."

He sighed, knowing that he had promised but that due to some problems he couldn't keep his promise, he patted you as he watched as Mochizuki and Ran approached the room to resume the matter they were handling, a grimace on your face from the sudden lack of contact, you knew that Koko didn't like that honeyed side of him to be seen and you respected it because he had a 'tough guy' image to maintain for Bonten.

It was unusual for you to show your affection when he was with the other executives, but you didn't mind, because when you blended into the busy streets pretending to be normal people with an average life, you could hold his hand again while pressing your palm against his several times like a heart pumping blood, it was your demonstration so that Kokonoi knew that you were there, that you would always be there despite everything, he will respond by tightening his grip a couple of times.

"Welcome back, Koko."

Despite the sleep that creeps through your body, you manage to stay awake until he arrives after a long day. Koko can only smile as he shakes his head when sees that as soon as he opens the door of the house you are waiting for him with open arms waiting for a hug. On the way back, knowing that you are more asleep than awake, he takes the opportunity to take you to bed, letting you hug a pillow with his aroma while he ends the day with a hot shower, lying on the bed immediately, waiting for you to get rid of the pillow to surround him with your arms.

Sanzu loves every time your skin is in contact with his, every caress, every hug… he doesn't care about the public, they can watch how you like to show your love for him, at the same time he likes to show that no one should get involved with you.

"Sit here."

He will always ask you to sit next to him, you like to have your arms intertwined, your head resting on his shoulder while you both dissociate from the reality in which you are thanks to the mutual touch, while the conversation becomes a dull noise, all the people at the brothel disappeared from your vision and you only focused on your partner.

While you were enjoying just spending time like that with Sanzu, he was on another kind of trip, not especially tranquility, that is, perhaps self-induced tranquility due to the last pill he had taken, at this moment the whole scene was distant, the muffled voices came and went just like his thoughts, but what he liked most was seeing your face deformed due to the optical effect of the drugs and the heat that your body gave off against his.

Of course, you didn't notice his state until you saw that he was laughing a lot as he leaned his head against yours, almost letting his full weight put you in an uncomfortable position. You enjoyed that Sanzu was just as clingy as you, but you wanted him to do it by his own act and not by consuming narcotics.

"Hey, hey, focus, I'm going to take you home and we're going to get you back to normal."

"But I'm normal now, I'm enjoying your company and your hugs!"

His giggle and his grip on you made you frown, as much as you didn't like it you removed his hands from your waist, standing up as you tried to keep his hands from snaking back up your body to trap you in your seat, you had had many arguments with Sanzu because of this, you had tried to get him to leave that world but you were not his psychologist, at least you asked him not to do it when he was with you.

"Come on, let's go, thanks for everything."

You said goodbye to the Haitani brothers, who had been the ones who planned the night in one of their brothels, dragging Sanzu with a frown, he was muttering apologies here and there while trying to kiss you on the cheeks, and no matter how much you loved that loving side, you felt that he was not sincere, you ended up sleeping on the couch, refusing to hug him in that state.

"Honey… love… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

And the next morning you woke up with a Sanzu curled up next to you ─almost falling off the couch─ murmuring into your shoulder that he would make up for his mistakes, which usually ends with him spending a day exclusively with you smothering him to death with affection so he'll forget consuming things dangerous to his health again.

He lives for your displays of affection like a puppy looking for pets, he doesn't care about the people in front of you two, they don't even have to worry that you have your hands on him all the time, and if someone dares to comment that you're too clingy, they will just get a beating afterwards.

"Then we'll do this and…" Takeomi's voice trailed off until he was silent, watching with expressionlessness as Rindou whispered to you "Can you at least pretend to be interested in what we're talking about?"

"I could, but lying is bad Takeomi."

The older one rubbed his temples, not knowing why the hell he was trying that with the youngest of the Haitani, knowing that he wouldn't get his attention now that you were there, he continued with his talk, at least the others were listening, anyway Ran got the information so he can give it to Rin later.

Rindou put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to his side as your arm went around his back, your head rested on his chest. You sighed dreamily like in a cheesy movie, but you couldn't help it. You loved showing your affection through tact and that Rin didn't find it excessive or annoying simply made you more clingy.

When you can't be in the boring meetings with him, he will be counting the hours he has left until he can see you again, burying his face in your stomach while he hugs you like a child seeking comfort, it is impossible to resist your caresses, your hands. They are warm compared to his which are colder, you already have to endure a lot at work, all you want is to get home where you can have infinite love without interruptions.

"I'm home!"

The smile quickly disappears when there is no answer, you are not home yet and he has to hold on until you return, he settles for lying in your bed and enjoying the smell you left on the pillow, he gets very impatient and moves to the living room where he can see the entrance directly, waiting like a puppy for you to return.

As soon as you walk through the door you already feel Rin's eyes on you, you let out a giggle as you see how his face lights up, despite being tired, you have enough energy to squeeze and lift Rindou in a welcoming hug, he lets you take a shower before you both end up on the couch arguing about what movie to watch, your bodies not separating at any time during that entire time.

"Ugh- hey, I can't feel my arms, can we change positions?"

"But I'm comfortable."

You laugh when you see his expression, since you were practically on top of him, crushing him, changing positions so that you were both comfortable, although the night would surely end with both of you sleeping on the floor.

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agirlcandream84 · 9 days

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we need more hc!!!! they're amazing!!!! what about bf!frank when you're mad at him/you two have a fight??? 🤭🤭🤭

Truth is, I'm sorta never not thinking about a next batch of headcanons and you kinda read my mind with the theme! Except I'm thinking of all the times Frank has been mad at YOU.

Times When Boyfriend!Frank Has Been Mad At You

Well, of course, that time your car broke down and his reaction to finding out.

One of the times Frank got mad at you was actually before you even really started dating but that didn't mean Frank wasn't already in deep and when he discovered you hired a Task Rabbit to haul out some old dresser out of your apartment -- he was stompin' down the hall in three steps asking "who's this jerk?" and when you told him he gave you an incredulous look going on about how a "pretty girl like you can't invite some random asshole into your apartment. Gonna get yourself killed like that" before he has you sit in the living room while he tells the confused man that he's got it from here and hauls the damn thing out himself.

Ok so we already know about that time that some dude on a crowded subway car rubbed his junk up against you while you were both smashed in during rush hour but did I mention that you failed to disclose that information to Frank for a week before he overheard your sister ask you if you saw the guy who "rubbed his junk into your ass" again since it last happened. You hear Frank mutter "what the fuck" from the other room before he appears in the doorway and says "Sweetheart, can I talk to you for second?" as he nods his head in the direction of the bedroom. Of course you try to deflect but he's insistent and that's when Frank launches into 1) a check to make sure you're ok and 2) when he's confirmed that you are ok, a lecture about withholding this from him. You try to tell him that you didn't want to make a "big thing" about it because it sadly happens to a lot of women and this only enrages Frank more and he's suddenly mad at All Men™️ for being disgusting assholes and obviously theres very little subway in your future.

Frank somehow got retroactively mad at you for walking home drunk from bars dozens of times in your younger days, before he even knew you. You were telling him stories of your partying days, chuckling at your disregard for good decision making, when you see the smile slide off his face and his signature scowl settles in while he crosses his arms over his chest. "Now hang on a minute sweetheart -- I don't like this shit. You coulda gotten hurt," and you're all "No Frank, I know now, I just--" but he cuts you off, his mind already decided on the next course of action-- self defense classes, taught by yours truly. Your eyes couldn't roll further back in your head but he just says "roll 'em all you want doll-- this ain't negotiable"

There was only one time Frank actually yelled at you -- like he was MAD mad -- and that's when you had gone in search of a cool thrift shop you'd heard about on Tik Tok but walked up to the place and it was inside of an enormous and decidedly creepy warehouse with no particular signage. The address looked right but this place looked all wrong. Against your own better judgement, you went in searching for the shop but it was just endless dark hallways and unmarked doors and the faint sound of men's laughter somewhere in the building. Your heart pounding in your chest, you started to feel incredibly unsafe. You probably weren't in any real danger but the vibes felt so wrong and it was the first time in your life you felt genuine fear. Like the kind that made you think you made a very bad mistake. You finally decided to turn back around and called Frank to come pick you up, bursting into tears. Of course he was there in a flash and vert pissed that you ignored your own instincts. "Your gut tells you to get out, you get out! Jesus Christ sweetheart, I know I taught you better than that." He's right and you know he's right so you're just a hiccuping mess, mad at yourself for being an idiot. Frank can't see you so upset for long so he's quickly tugging you into his chest and murmuring on the top of your head, "S'alright sweetheart. Just gotta listen to your instincts. M'not mad, alright?"

Also that time you accidentally spilled bleach on his favorite hoodie. He was just plain ol' pissed at that.

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle fanfic #frank castle x you #frank castle smut #frank castle x y/n #frank castle fluff

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tiaramania · 4 months

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Tiaras of the future Queen Mary

I love a good list and @duchessofostergotlands requested one of the tiaras that Mary will wear as queen. As usual I had a lot to say.

Crown Jewels

Queen Caroline Amelie's Emerald Tiara

Denmark is unusual among modern monarchies in that they still have wearable jewelry in their crown jewels. There is a diamond set, a pearl and ruby set, and of course the beautiful emerald parure. This tiara cannot be taken outside of Denmark and is only worn by the queen. I really hope Mary wears it for her first official portrait as queen.

Major Tiaras: Non-Restricted

Princess Louise's Pearl Poiré Tiara

This tiara has only been worn by Queen Margrethe during her reign but previously was worn by crown princesses and princesses. It is a very important tiara but I wouldn't mind Queen Mary loaning this one occasionally to other people like Christian's future wife.

Queen Désirée's Ruby Parure Tiara

Queen Ingrid kept this tiara even after her husband passed and then left it to Crown Prince Frederik for his future wife so it was never worn by Queen Margrethe. I expect Crown Princes Mary will continue wearing this tiara for now as the parure was extensively remodeled to suit her. When Christian marries, she may decide to pass it on to his wife establishing it as the de facto crown princess tiara, keep wearing it herself, or ideally keep wearing it while also loaning it the future crown princess.

Minor Tiaras

We don't yet know how Queen Margrethe will handle passing on her jewelry. In other countries with recent abdications, Queen Beatrix of the Netherlands still attends tiara events but Queen Paola of Belgium and Queen Sofia of Spain do not. If Margrethe decides to keep attending them she may hold on to some of these for a while.

Grand Duchess Louise of Baden's Palmette Tiara

This isn't my favorite tiara in the Danish vault because of the way it ends so abruptly instead of tapering off. Queen Mary's going to have to pull off some great tiara hair to cover that up.

Crown Princess Margaret's Turquoise Daisy Tiara

Queen Mary looks good in turquoise but I'm really looking forward to seeing this tiara on Princess Isabella and Princess Josephine.

Queen Ingrid's Floral Aigrette Tiara

I've loved the way Queen Margrethe played around with this tiara but I am looking forward to Queen Mary putting it back on a tiara frame like Queen Ingrid wore it.

Queen Margrethe's Naasut Tiara

Queen Margrethe was given this tiara by Greenland in 2012 and I have been waiting for day it is worn by Queen Mary. I think the delicate gold flowers are really going to look great against her dark hair.

Personal Tiaras

Wedding Tiara

Queen Margrethe gave this tiara to Crown Princess Mary as a wedding gift and Mary later had optional pearls added.

Ruby & Spinel Necklace Tiara

Mary bought herself this tiara at an auction and debuted it 2015. I think it was a very smart move because it was only 8050 EUR (probably less than some of her gowns) and it will be a great piece for her children to wear in the future.

Every country and monarch handles jewelry a little differently. Queen Margrethe gave each of her daughters-in-law a tiara but did not share any of her tiaras with them. She did share with her nieces (the daughters of her two sisters) when her sisters didn't have enough tiaras to loan them for events. I would like to see the future King Frederik X and Queen Mary change how the jewelry is dispersed.

First of all they need to stop giving away jewelry. The mainline has already lost the Queen Alexandrine's Diamond Drop Tiara to the Countess of Frederiksborg and Princess Dagmar's Diamond Floral Tiara to Princess Marie. Those are both beautiful, versatile tiaras that would have served the family well in the future. In the previous generation, Princess Benedikte was given Queen Sofia's Star & Pearl Tiara and her Floral Birthday Tiara made from other jewelry and Queen Anne Marie was given Crown Princess Margaret's Khedive Tiara and her Antique Corsage Tiara made from other jewelry. There's no reason to give away tiaras anymore to people whose descendants will have little reason to wear them.

Then to make up for not giving away any jewelry there needs to be more sharing! I don't want to see the same person wear the same tiara to every event. Queen Mary will have the Emerald Tiara exclusively and then may choose to keep the Pearl Poiré Tiara and Ruby Parure Tiara to herself but everything else should be shared among her daughters, daughters-in-law, and other members of the extended Danish Royal Family. It would make things so much more interesting.

#Tiara Talk #Crown Princess Mary #Queen Mary #ugh I'm going to have to change her tag #Denmark #Danish Royal Family #I didn't include the Golden Poppies because I didn't want to #tiara #royal jewels #Queen Margrethe #Queen Margrethe II

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flowerandblood · 9 days

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The Fall from the Heavens (26)

[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: mention of sex, incest, smut, angst, swearing ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

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

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Jace remembered perfectly the day his little sister was born. Laenor had led him into his mother's chamber that day, holding his hand, saying that she was very tired and they couldn't spend much time with her − he had insisted on seeing her because he was delighted to finally have a sibling, a brother to play with and be friends with.

His mother, the future queen, smiled softly at the sight of him, her white hair loose and in disarray, her face red from sweat and exertion.

She held out her hand to him and he hugged her, peering curiously at the infant she held clutched to her chest.

"He's so tiny." He said in disbelief, brushing the baby's finger with his own − he smiled when he saw the baby's hand clench into a small fist with its quiet purr.

"She. You have a little sister." He heard his mother's amused voice; he furrowed his brow at her words and rose, angry and disappointed.

"− wait, comrade −" Laenor called out after him, but he refused to look at her.

She was a disappointment to him.

For the first few months, he had pretended not to hear her cries or squeals from their mother's chamber − even though Rheanyra had spoken to him and encouraged him to meet her, he had refused to do so, recognising that no little girl interested him.

"It was supposed to be a boy." He muttered regretfully while playing with his large, wooden, black dragon, pretending that the stacks of books were the great hills over which he flew on Balerion. His mother smiled at his words and combed her hand through his dark curls.

"That is what the gods have decided. She may be your future wife."

Jace put down his toy, looking at her in surprise, not understanding what she meant.

"Am I going to have to kiss her?" He asked in disgust, recalling the stories Laenor sometimes read to him before bed, in which great knights freed beautiful women from the paws of monsters, only to fall in love with them later and be bestowed a kiss by them.

His mother smiled involuntarily.

"Don't think about such things until you're a grown man. No kissing for now." She giggled, pinching his cheek. He smiled lazily seeing her warm expression, the motherly love that beat from her.

That night he went to the chamber where she slept for the first time; he leaned over the cradle, glancing at her plump little figure wrapped in a white robe and a small headpiece. Her eyes opened suddenly and he was terrified that she would burst into tears − she, however, merely clutched her small feet and began to rock from side to side, looking at him curiously.

He smiled involuntarily at this sight and tickled her belly with his finger. Her squeal and loud giggle answered him, her eyes lit up in joy, her little body all the way up in euphoria. He laughed seeing this, repeating his gesture, thinking she was like a small animal, a puppy or a kitten.

He decided that at the end of the day she wasn't so bad and stopped pretending she didn't exist.

Until Luke was born he had treated her as if she were a boy, driving their mother to despair every time they both returned sodden with mud and sand after another battle with Aegon and Aemond.

He had always felt that his uncles disliked him, and even though they were of a similar age to him, he did not feel comfortable in their company − nor could he hide his jealousy at the sight of their snow-white hair, proof of who they were.

Looking at his father and mother, he could not comprehend why his hair was not that shade.

Rhaenyra explained to him that it was surely because of the Baratheon blood that also flowed through their veins, and although he was disappointed, the sight that he was not the only one, that his sister and Luke looked similar to him, comforted him.

The first time Aegon laughed sincerely at what he said occurred when he called his sister a hamster. The comparison came to his mind when she took air in her mouth and furrowed her brow − he uttered it thoughtlessly, and his uncle burst out laughing and patted him on the back.

"− gods, you're right − and those big eyes of hers −" He sneered, and although he saw that his sister lowered her gaze, embarrassed, he continued, eager to hear more words of praise from his lips.

"− she has just as much sense too −" He added, seeing his uncle throw him an amused, mocking look suggesting that he agreed with him.

He felt a squeeze in his heart when he noticed out of the corner of his eye that his sister had turned and walked away, passing through the cloisters towards their quarters without even giving him another glance.

He turned around and noticed to his surprise that he was not the only person to notice her leaving − his other uncle, Aemond, led her away with his eyes and then threw him a look full of despise, from which he felt discomfort.

He pressed his lips together at the thought that he was the heir to the throne and, unlike him, had his own dragon.

Who was he to look down on him with such superiority?

He decided to remind him of that and share that thought with his brother.

Aegon's involvement in their little joke surprised even him − his uncle thought it was an excellent idea. He argued that his younger brother was too sullen and serious for his age, that he was sapient and could use a little lesson.

As he listened to Aegon convince him that they had found a dragon for him, as he saw the hint of hope and the shy, embarrassed smile of excitement on his uncle's face, he felt for a moment that perhaps they should not do this.

However, it was too late to retreat − Luke ran deeper into the cave, and came out a moment later, leading by a rope a large pig to which they had attached self-made wooden wings early on.

"Behold! The Pink Dread!"

He saw that his uncle froze and turned pale as they burst out laughing, swallowing this humiliation with difficulty − his eyes glazed over and reddened, his gaze again blank and distant.

He knew they had broken him.

That same day he mentioned it to his sister, and her reaction angered him.

"You are cruel." She said resentfully.

Which side was she on?

"He's forever looking down on us because he has white hair. He's constantly making excuses and bragging about what he's read in those silly dusty books of his." He snorted, playing between his fingers with the gold coin their grandfather had brought him from another of his trips overseas.

He blinked when his sister simply rose from her seat and walked out, leaving him in a state of shock and displeasure − he decided, however, that these were just normal female emotions and would surely pass her until supper.

He loved his father, but he also greatly valued and respected Ser Harwin Strong. He was a stocky, tall, handsome man who could fight very well. He often spoke to him or helped him practice by sharing stories of his duels in tournaments and hunts.

He thought then that he would like to be like him one day.

He knew that he was a close confidant of his mother and often saw them together, however, his father seemed not to mind, so he considered this condition perfectly normal and did not bother.

After a few weeks, the will of their King fell upon them like a bolt from the heavens, and their mother informed them of it during one of their suppers together.

"− your grandfather and our King has decided today that, to strengthen our lineage, we will betroth your sister to your uncle, Prince Aemond − let us raise our cups for this −" She said, glancing towards her daughter, his sister smiling broadly at her words, happy.

What?

"− what do you mean? − why? −" He asked, feeling discomfort in his stomach and a cold sweat on his back.

They wanted to gift him his sister as a consolation because he didn't have a dragon of his own?

"− your grandfather wants peace to reign in the kingdom after his death − such a marriage in his eyes will strengthen our family and our bonds between each other − of course, the marriage will only happen when your sister is of the right age −" She said calmly, looking at her daughter with tenderness, taking an unruly strand of her dark hair from her face.

"− did you agree? −" He asked his little sister in disbelief, and she nodded quickly, as if it was the happiest day of her life.

"− yes − I'm very pleased − I'm fond of our uncle −" She said quickly, putting a piece of roast on her plate, describing how worried she was that she would have to marry someone much older than herself.

He stared blankly ahead, clenching his hands into fists, bitter and disappointed.

Had she really never considered him as her husband?

After all, he was her elder brother; in their lineage such marriages were obvious.

He dared not, however, defy the will of the King himself.

His resentment towards his uncle increased with each passing week seeing that, against his wishes, he was not being harsh and unpleasant to his sister − on the contrary, he seemed to have softened in her company, his face, though still pathetically proud, also expressing curiosity and affection.

He felt rage in his heart at the thought that they could really have wished to bring about this marriage.

However, the cup of bitterness overflowed the moment he saw his sister kiss him.

They were both too certain that no one could see them − he watched them from the corridor through a window overlooking the library.

His sister was standing by the bookcase, saying something to him, and he stood up and walked lazily over to her. He rose on his tiptoes and apparently reached for a book that stood too high for her. She smiled broadly as he handed it to her, her hand traveling to his shoulder.

He swallowed hard as her lips pressed against his, and as soon as she pulled away, her uncle grasped her cheeks in his hands and kissed her again, deeper and longer.

He fled to his chamber and burst into tears with rage, dropping all the objects standing on his table, disappointed and humiliated that although he was to become King in the future, someone else was taking away something that in his mind was his right.

He never wondered what kind of love he had bestowed upon her and whether it was the form of affection that usually bound married couples; he knew that he would care for her and be good to her and that was enough for him.

She was his sister and he would never hurt her.

She, however, looked only to her uncle and it was to him that she gave her heart and mind.

He didn't know what he felt when Luke slashed his face that night when their uncle stole Vhagar − horror, shame, satisfaction and relief all mingled in his mind into one.

On the one hand, he was overjoyed that he had taken back what in his mind should have been his, on the other he was embarrassed and distraught at the confirmation of his fears that had long smouldered in his mind.

It was Harwin Strong who was their father.

To his seed he owed his dark curls.

He was a bastard.

He tried to turn his thoughts away from considering what this meant for them, focusing on the fact that his sister would surely no longer want her uncle for a husband, and their paths would part.

This is exactly what happened.

Still, what he had planned did not happen, and his mother decided to change her plan and marry her off to their cousin, Lord Arryn's son, to strengthen her support in the North of the kingdom. Again, he felt a wave of disappointment, however, this time he was not so jealous − he knew that she had no love for their cousin and that he was certainly no threat to her.

"What's my little sister doing?" He asked with amusement, startling her completely, sitting bent over her desk − she quickly grabbed the parchment she had just been writing something on and tucked it under the table, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"Are you writing a letter to someone?" He sneered, raising an eyebrow, standing over her with a smile. She swallowed hard and looked down, thoughtful.

"I write poetry. But I don't want anyone to read it." She muttered, and he sighed quietly and nodded, acknowledging that he wasn't going to force her to do anything.

"Would you like to go for a walk along the beach? It's beautiful weather." He encouraged her; she, however, shook her head, no longer bestowing a single glance on him.

"No, forgive me. I'm tired."

He pressed his lips together at her rejection, which he had faced again and again since they had moved to Dragonstone.

Even though he tried to get close to her, to understand her and comfort her, she still didn't want him.

He was ashamed to speak of his feelings with his mother or stepfather, much less Luke, however, to his surprise, his closest confidant turned out to be Baela.

"I don't understand her. It seems to me that she still misses him, even though he has certainly forgotten her by now. I have heard that he is a cold, vain, self-obsessed man. He's always been that way, treating her only as an object, a consolation prize. Now that he has a dragon he doesn't need her." He said angrily − his cousin sighed heavily at his words, looking at him with understanding.

"When people part in anger and don't close a chapter, it's hard for them to move on. Perhaps she knew him in a way that is unknown to us. He's always been withdrawn into himself." She muttered disapprovingly, fiddling with the wine cup in her hand, gazing thoughtfully into the blazing fire.

He smiled at the thought that he was certain she recalled the impetuosity with which her uncle had punched her in the face with his fist that night when he lost an eye. Baela looked at him, raising her eyebrows.

"What's that look?" She asked and kicked him under the table with her foot. He giggled at her reaction and shook his head, lowering his gaze to her fingers.

"I would have been better for her. I would have really cared for her. Maybe I wouldn't have given her everything she needed, but at least with me she would have been safe." He said with a tiredness from which his companion sighed heavily. He lifted his gaze to her as her hand grasped his and squeezed it.

"I know." She replied softly.

He swallowed hard, feeling a pleasant warmth in his lower abdomen as he saw her soft, misty gaze, feeling her warm thumb stroke his palm. He grunted as he felt his manhood pulsate in his breeches at the thought that, indeed, his cousin was a very fine woman.

He had always liked her sharp tongue and confidence.

"Have you ever lain in bed with a woman?" She asked him suddenly, and he drew in the air loudly, shocked, feeling that his cheeks had certainly turned red with shame.

He didn't know what to answer.

He didn't want to humiliate himself with words that he had absolutely no experience in these matters knowing that she had a more liberated approach to these affairs.

Daemon, as her father, had expressed no dissent, so who was he to lecture her?

She sighed quietly, seeing his reaction, or rather lack thereof, and rose from her seat, turning her back to him, gripping the ties of her bodice with her hands.

"I need you to help me."

Baela was a calm and patient teacher − it seemed to him that she took great satisfaction in his lack of understanding of what she was actually doing to him as she sank down on his swollen manhood again and again with a moan of delight − her brown naked skin glistened wonderfully in the light of the blazing fire, her white curls falling over her shoulders in disarray, her full lips parted in obvious desire from which he felt his fulfilment approaching embarrassingly fast.

She made sure he didn't fill her with his seed, letting him instead come down on her abdomen with his low moan of pleasure, his length pulsating and twitching in her hand for a while longer. He licked his lower lip dry with emotion, looking at her in disbelief, a soft, shy smile on her face.

"− you're beautiful −" He whispered, and she giggled under her breath and kissed him in a way from which he felt hot in his heart.

She made him forget, at least for a moment, what was happening around them, finding in her both friend and lover, the confidante of all his secrets.

She was not jealous of his sister − on the contrary, he had the impression that she understood the source of his anger and disappointment, herself having no intention of explaining to him what she was doing and with whom.

It seemed to him that their relationship and its freedom suited them both.

Of course, they both knew that in the end they would experience a marriage that would inevitably be purely political, and they understood what that entailed.

Then their grandfather was injured on one of his expeditions, and Vaemond Velaryon challenged his younger brother's rights to the throne of Driftmark.

Knowing the truth about his parentage and at the same time refusing to accept it, he became enraged, sad and depressed at the same time − Baela's words of comfort that they would find a solution and not allow themselves to be intimidated did not reassure him.

Once again, his uncle and his family were trying to take their inheritance from them.

His return to King's Landing was a shock to him; to his disappointment, he felt like an intruder there, and it seemed to him that was exactly how he was perceived by everyone.

He felt a drop of cold sweat run down his neck, his stomach twisting with discomfort when he saw his uncle in the distance, wielding his sword as if it weighed nothing, easily defeating Criston Cole, pressing its blade against his neck.

He was tall, muscular, his long white hair, proof that he was in fact a Targaryen partly tied at the back of his head with a black ribbon, his jaw long and sharply defined, his gaze wild and cold, terrifying.

He smiled mockingly at the sight of them, playing with the hilt of his sword between his fingers as if he wanted to devour them.

He felt ashamed at the thought that he was terrified.

And then his uncle spotted their sister in the distance − his heart beat harder at the sight of their expressions.

It seemed to him that this reunion years later had caused them pain, as they both froze, breathing heavily, looking at each other as if there was no one else around.

His uncle hummed under his breath and turned away, nodding at Ser Criston, taking another swing with his sword.

Even though he hadn't cared what happened to her for so many years, even though he had humiliated her at supper by calling her Lady Strong, she had confessed in front of everyone that her place was with him.

He looked at her in disbelief, wondering what she was doing, why she had stooped to courting him when it was obvious that her uncle had neither respect nor affection for her.

After a moment, he heard his uncle's cold, trembling, deep voice.

"So it is decided, father. We will marry."

"How could our mother agree to this? How could she let her stay there?" He asked furiously, circling around his chamber in Dragonstone; Baela sighed heavily, turning her head away. She looked at him finally, hesitation in her gaze.

"I didn't tell you because I knew it would only enrage you and you wouldn't leave her alone." She said tiredly − he halted in half-step, looking at her over his shoulder, feeling his heart pounding like mad.

"You didn't tell me about what?" He asked dryly, frustrated and concerned.

Baela let out a loud breath, shaking her head. They were now betrothed, and although he thought they both seemed to have accepted their families' decisions with relief, he couldn't rejoice.

"My father told me that she had been sending him letters all these years. That the same night we arrived in the Red Keep she spent the night in his chamber."

He stared at her dully, feeling that it made him sick to his stomach, as if he were about to vomit, his face taking on an expression of disgust.

So she didn't write any poetry then, he thought with regret and pain.

"− how could she do this − expose our mother to humiliation and gossip −"

"Jace. She never stopped loving him. I think she's naive too, but you'd have to be blind not to see that she never really accepted it all. I don't know what I think about it myself." She admitted, running her hand over her face.

"You don't know what you think about it? I'll tell you. Our uncle will play with her and take advantage of her, and then he will put her up to ridicule and hand her over to us. He won't marry her." He growled angrily, burying his face in his hands, wondering how she could be so foolish, how she could believe that he had sincere intentions about her.

"The matter of succession is on a knife-edge. Perhaps our grandfather is right? A union between our mother and the Queen could really ease the situation." She muttered, clearly looking for anything comforting in the situation, which he completely failed to understand.

Had everyone around him lost their minds?

"My uncle who thinks we are bastards is supposed to alleviate the situation? He will never agree to let me sit on the throne and I am supposed to give him my sister?" He asked in disbelief; Baela tightened her lips at his words, frustrated.

"You speak of her as if she were an object. It's always been that way."

He felt an unpleasant shiver run down his spine at her words, every muscle in his body tensing like a string.

"What do you mean?" He asked coolly.

Baela sighed heavily, clearly trying not to explode and form her thoughts so as to be honest but not cruel.

"You think she was born to fulfil your whims? That the fact that you are her eldest brother gives you precedence to lie in bed with her?"

He felt himself blush with shame at her question, shocked.

Discomfort and arousal surged through his lower abdomen at the thought.

"Do you think that's what I mean? I'm just trying to…"

"Yes, Jace. I've never witnessed you ask her how she feels, what she needs. I am fond of you, but you are a selfish boy, not a man."

He felt ashamed at the thought as tears gathered under his eyelids at her words, a terrible, cold shudder shook his body, his heart began to pound like mad.

You are a selfish boy, not a man.

Her words so offended him that he stopped speaking to her despite her pleas, and then the thing he feared most happened.

The King was dead, Aegon had stolen her mother's throne and his uncle had imprisoned his sister.

They had made a mockery of them.

He had been right all along, but no one listened to him.

"Forgive me, Jace." Baela muttered, placing her hand on his shoulder. She knelt beside him, sighing heavily, laying her head on his thigh, and he involuntarily stroked her hair, feeling superiority, feeling strength.

He was going to fight for his mother's crown and bring his sister home.

In order to do so, at the behest of their mother, he flew to Winterfell to ask Cregan Stark for his support in this cause, reminding him of the oath his father had taken before her.

The North seemed to him a beautiful and wild place, so far from what he knew − the snow-covered hills, the austere fortresses of dark stone, the robes that looked only grey, black or brown around him gave him a sense of modesty and space.

Lord Stark's nature appeared to be similar to his, and the few days he had spent in his company hunting and riding horses had actually made him feel good − he felt like someone worthy with him, a true heir to the throne, not a bastard.

It was this feeling that, seeing the young Lady Snow from afar, he allowed himself to be enchanted by her charms and lay in bed with her.

Like a real man.

When he arrived back in Dragonstone he learned that Luke had just returned from Storm's End and that he had seen their sister.

"You flew after him? You flew after him knowing he could imprison you, use you as your mother's weakness? Fucking fool." Growled Daemon, shocked and horrified by his naivety, burying his face in his hands, unable to look at him.

"Daemon." Their mother rebuked him, all pale, her hand clenched on her womb. "What happened next?"

"He brought her. Someone hit her, mother, and I think she tried to take her own life. There were cut marks on her wrists." His brother muttered, and he felt his heart stop, he and Baela looked at each other quickly.

She had tried to take her own life.

Because of this bastard, his sister could be dead.

His hands clenched into fists at that thought.

"And then?" Pressed Daemon in an impatient voice.

"I told her to run away with me, but she didn't agree. She told me to tell you that she loves you and that she remains faithful to you, mother." He mumbled and he slammed his fist on the table, feeling fury and rage boiling up inside him.

"That fucking bastard purposely made her stay. He planned this, he never had any intention of marrying her!" He growled red with anger − Daemon threw him a single, drawn-out look.

"And then what? He let you just walk away? No one else saw you?" He continued, pretending not to have heard his outburst.

"N-no, I was surprised, but no. Forgive me, I had to see her, make sure that she is still alive." Luke said. Daemon sighed heavily and leaned over, placing his hands on the top of the stone table, thoughtful.

"Bring me a parchment and a quill. I need to speak with my nephew."

Baela followed him into his chamber in an attempt to calm him down.

"How can he want to pact with that fucking traitor? His brother stole my mother and his wife's throne!" He shouted in her face − his betrothed dropped her hands in a gesture of helplessness.

"Since he let them meet, maybe there is something to it. My father knows what he's doing, I trust him. I believe he will bring her home."

"You're naive. You always have been."

"And you're vain. You always have been."

He pressed his lips together at her words, feeling his heart pounding like mad, feeling like something was about to explode inside him.

"I met a woman in Winterfell who I took to my bed." He muttered finally, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

Part of him wanted to hurt her, and part of him wanted to be honest with her.

That was what they had promised each other.

Baela laughed at his words in disbelief and shook her head − he had a feeling he saw a shadow of regret in her gaze, but he wasn't sure if it was because of his confession or because she understood why he said it now.

"If you wish, I'll relate to you how I spent my time in your absence, but I'm not sure you'll be able to look into this guard's face afterwards." She sneered, lifting her chin high, looking at him defiantly. He felt a wave of hot shame and anger surge through his body.

"After we're married…are you going to continue this?" He asked uncertainly and she cocked her head to the side.

"If you are not faithful to me, I will not remain faithful to you. You are dear to me, but don't think I will cry for you. Certainly not like your sister cried for her uncle. Part of me has always envied her that she experienced such a deep feeling in her life even if it burned her from the inside for so many years." She said with a kind of regret from which he felt a squeeze in his stomach, but he answered nothing to her words.

He knew that they did not love each other.

They were close and felt comfortable together, but they weren't mad about each other.

He believed it just had to be this way.

He waited impatiently along with his mother and the others gathered for Daemon to return from his meeting with their uncle, simultaneously terrified and angry that they were speaking with traitors instead of fighting.

When they heard the squeal of Caraxes in the distance his mother stood up, pale, holding her hand on her womb again, as if remembering the time when she had carried her only daughter under her heart.

His other sister had died before she was even truly born.

When Daemon stepped into the main hall everyone was already waiting for him; he sighed heavily, placing his Dark Sister on the table top, folding his hands in front of him, straightening.

"Your daughter married her uncle of her own free will. My nephew has conveyed to me that his brother-cunt will relinquish the throne he stole from you if it is your daughter's children and his who become heirs to the throne or, in the event they do not conceive a son, ours − Viserys and Aegon. He demands the exclusion of Jace, Luke and Joffrey from the succession." He said dispassionately. He looked at his mother seeing that she had run out of words.

"− mother − this is −"

"− leave us − all of you −" She ordered.

"− mother − this is my inheritance − mine −" He began, but felt Baela's grip on his arm.

"− Jace − that's enough −"

He sat in his chamber thinking only of the fact that his mother was just contemplating whether or not to agree to deprive him of his inheritance, to acknowledge that he was her bastard despite the fact that he was her firstborn son, despite the fact that Laenor Velaryon had acknowledged him as his heir.

"− Jace −" Baela muttered, seeing his condition.

"− leave −" He said. He heard her sigh heavily as she approached him with a rustle of her gown, kneeling at his feet.

"− Jace − I'm on your side − I always have been − don't you see me as your companion? − your friend? − your lover? −" She asked with a pained expression that startled him. He lowered his hands and looked at her − his palm rose to her cheek, which he stroked with a tender, slow gesture.

"− you resent me − you don't see me as a man, but as a child −"

"− that is not true −"

"− I don't want your pity −"

"− Jace −"

"− you were right − I don't want to frustrate you and I understand all the accusations about me that you've made − my whole life I've been trying to be someone I'm not −" He finally replied, his betrothed's fingers grasping his hand and squeezing it.

"− that's what I mean − stop pretending − be honest with yourself −"

"− do you want me to be honest? − very well then − my mother has never asked my opinion on any important matters − Daemon treats me as if I am an imbecile and mocks me − I am both a first-born son and a bastard − my uncle wants to deprive me of everything, he wants me to be a nobody and why? − because when I was a child I gave him a pig? − god, I regret it, it was a cruel joke − I regret that he lost an eye, I regret that a dragon didn't hatch from his egg − but even if I had said that, what good would it have done − he would have laughed at me saying I am a weak cunt −" He muttered and burst out sobbing like a small child, hiding his face in his hands. Baela embraced him and cuddled his face into her oil-scented neck, stroking his hair.

"− I am grateful to you − I am grateful to you that you are honest with me − I am grateful to you that you have never lied to me −" She whispered and he wept softly, tightening his hands on the material of her gown feeling that the closeness of her body brought him solace.

"− I am grateful to you too − forgive me for not being what you deserve −" He mumbled, sniffling loudly, trying to calm the convulsions of his body and his ragged breathing.

"− I forgive you − I forgive you and ask for your forgiveness −"

When his mother came to his chamber that evening, he knew what decision she had made even before she opened her mouth.

"− Jace −" She began, and he turned his head away, panting with rage, burning tears of humiliation under his eyelids.

"− after all this − after all you've sacrificed − are you going to let them win? −"

"− how would I be a just Queen if I thought only of myself instead of the good of the kingdom? − any other solution will mean war with our own kin − is there anything else more displeasing to the gods? −" She muttered in a breaking voice in which he could clearly hear that she herself was suffering immensely.

"− you let them dictate their terms −" He said in disbelief, looking at her at last. His mother pressed her lips together at his question.

"− no − I intend to impose my own demands on them – none of them will be allowed to sit on the throne − none of them will wear the crown − they will be rulers-regents until their son, the rightful heir, is born −" She replied, forcing herself to be calm.

"− and if no son is born to them? − will you exclude me from the succession then? − your first-born son? −" He mumbled in pain, hitting his chest with his palm. Rhaenyra drew in air loudly, her eyes red from tears of pain and grief.

"− it's my fault − not yours − me and Laenor really tried, but −"

"− I don't want to hear it − I won't listen to it − why did you let me come into the world? −"

"− Jace −" She mumbled − he heard the rustling of her gown as she took a step towards him, but he held up his hand showing that he didn't want her to come near him.

"− I will leave Dragonstone to you − it belongs to me and I can give it to whomever I wish − no one will challenge your rights in this case, you will finally be able to live the life you deserve −"

"− I was meant to be King −" He hissed, and she swallowed hard.

"− as was I − but perhaps we are not meant to be − pride steps before a fall −" She said drily, her chin lifted high.

"− what does Daemon have to say in the matter? −" He asked lowly.

"− he is furious, but he will do as I command − just as you −"

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hobidreams · 15 days

Text

minis: july 1874.

time goes on, and so does your love stretch and grow alongside it.

pairing: joseon king!yoongi x reader genre: angst, fluff words: ~800 contains: historical au, talk of pregnancy

moonlit throne index. this is drabble 47. start from the beginning?

"...Not this time. Again."

In the starlit darkness of your apothecary, your voice comes out tender, red and raw as if the words scrape your throat on their way out. Your hands are flattened on the wooden table, your knees shaky but still thankfully enough to support you as you try to maintain your bravest face. But it's always futile when it's him you're facing. Your Yoongi.

Your Yoongi who only lets a small, sad smile flicker onto his lips before he is pulling you into his warm arms. He buries his face into the dip of your neck where your scent gathers, presses a tiny kiss beneath your jaw.

You feel the silk of his robes softly drag against your wrists. Feel his limbs tremble ever so slightly, even though he must be trying his utmost best to keep himself steady.

"I'm sorry," you whisper into his shoulder, wishing for yet another month that you had better news to give. More than blood staining your undergarments that you handwash until the red disappears into the water as if it had never existed in the first place, each scrub a fresh sting in your heart.

"Don't you dare."

Against you, Yoongi twitches, tenses. He breaks from you reluctantly, shifting until he's far enough away to look you in the eyes, hold you captive in his strong gaze.

"This is no fault of yours, janae," he says, tracing your cheek with the backs of his fingers. "Never."

This small act of affection makes the threat of tears known behind your eyes. Though you've grown hopelessly used to them in the past years, his kisses, his warmth, to have his kindness in the face of such failure is...

"Isn't it?" You pull away from him then, take a few steps away to your table where herbs and fine powders litter the tabletop, remnants of your day's work. "None of my brews have been effective."

"Yet," he says instantly, the word pressed out so intensely you almost believe him. "Effective yet."

"...It's just hard to watch her."

The beautiful queen. Well in the fifth month of being with child, her growing belly swells with love and happiness. She rubs oils you provide on her skin daily, willing to drink any bitter health tonic to ensure her babe's safety. As much as you love visiting her, chatting with her about all things related to the future heir of the country... You can feel your heart whimpering each time you see her. Ugly and jealous.

"We have time," Yoongi whispers, brushing a tendril of hair away from your forehead. "I promise."

"Okay." You exhale, letting him soothe your hurt. "And... I suppose being a while behind the queen will allow us to make good use of the clothing her child outgrows."

Yoongi raises a dark eyebrow at you. "Please. You think I would not personally order the most luxurious, newest clothing the country's top seamstresses can make for our precious baby?"

"Technically, her baby is yours too," you say with a small grin, even though you all know the truth.

He hums, amusement now playing on his lips. "Hoseok still has a difficult time keeping a neutral face when the advisors say the same. I had to order him to leave the chambers on more than one occasion already, lest he give everything away with that ever-changing expression of his."

"He can't help it. He's just so excited." You're grateful for this slight change of topic. "Do you think he'll tell Aera?"

"I don't know." Yoongi says that more often now, at least in your presence and Eunuch Kim's and sometimes even in front of the Queen. He's learned that kings don't need to know everything. That so many people within the palace are there to support him, even in his moments of falter. "I don't know if she is old enough to keep that secret. But eventually? Yes."

You place a hand on his chest and feel the thump of his heart beneath your fingertips. "And... will you... Will you tell their child when it is time?"

"Of course." His breath is warm with summer as it brushes over you, slightly bitter with the tea he uses to keep himself awake on advisor assembly days. "We are... one joined family now, as unconventional as it is. And if I have learned anything from my mother... every one of you deserve the truth. The queen, Hoseok, Aera, you..." His gentle fingers drift down to your stomach. "... and the little one that will join us eventually."

"Okay." You take his hand as you look into his eyes, read the absolute love, the sureity written there. You will trust in yourself as you do him, as you do the small pond rock that sits snugly in your right pocket, accompanying you through even the hardest hours. "Okay."

a/n: hey all! long time no see! if you're still here to read this--i'm SO grateful for you. i recently watched the Yoongi Road to D-Day movie and as soon as Daechwita came up, i was thrown back into this story and i just missed it so much. this mini was originally begun like a year ago in response to some comments from readers who were curious about what happened with our dear uinyeo-nim's wish to have a child! i wanted to show some of that struggle, some of the tenderness between them and how the world has changed in the few years since the end of the series :)

#moonlit throne #yoongi #rain writes #umm kinda crazy that i havent written fic in years #but this series will always have a soft spot in my heart #so... pls enjoy this tiny little thing #<3

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queenshelby · 5 months

Text

Forbidden Desire (Part 20)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader (Female/Incestuous)

Warnings: Incest, Smut

Please comment and engage xx 😘

A few hours later, when most of the guests had left and Edward had fallen asleep, you took the time to have a conversation with Robert who appeared rather anxious about recent developments.

Sitting beside you on the chaise longue inside one of the guestrooms, he expressed his concern regarding your involvement in this dangerous lifestyle shared by your family. According to him, there were mentions of drug trafficking and killings amongst some of the men and this worried him greatly.

"You knew about all this, didn't you?" Robert probed gently, searching your eyes for answers. You hesitated briefly, weighing whether to divulge your knowledge or maintain the facade. Ultimately, honesty won out, driven by a genuine sense of trust that developed between you two. Nodding solemnly, you confirmed his suspicion.

"Yes," you paused momentarily, pondering the best approach to discuss this sensitive topic. "I know that my family is involved in illegal activities, and I also know how dangerous these activities can be. This is why I did not want you to come here with me. This place is nothing but trouble." You confessed to Robert honestly, shaking your head slightly.

"So the fire at the hotel wasn't an accident then?" Robert asked curiously, recalling how much danger it put you in.

"No, it wasn't an accident. The fire was targeted at us. Shelby Company Limited owns the hotel and I...," you began to say without completing your sentence. "You know, don't worry about it. We are safe here with my uncle," you tried reassuring Robert, though deep down you weren't completely convinced either. You knew that Tommy would do anything to keep you safe but he cared much less for Robert's wellbeing.

"I do not like it here Y/N. Your uncle appears to be a dangerous man and whilst your father seems to have found God, I feel as though his past is rather dark as well. There are men with outside, with guns. There are at least ten of them and your uncle has been carrying a loaded weapon for the entirety of the evening. When he returned with you from the fire, his clothes were stained with blood. It worries me greatly, my dear," Robert continued expressing his concerns with a heavy heart.

Your expression fell, sensing the weight of his words, yet understanding where he was coming from.

"I know Robert, but we will go back to Boston soon and all will be fine, yes? In Boston, we will be safe and far away from my family", you promised, attempting to alleviate his apprehension.

"Yes my love, but you need to promise me that you aren't involved in anything dangerous, alright?" Robert insisted, placing a gentle palm on your shoulder, seeking reassurance. Feeling both guilty and relieved that he believed in you, you nodded your head firmly.

"Alright! Now get some sleep while I tend to the little hungry monster," you then said as you heard Edward screaming from the nursery next door. With a soft smile on your face, you glanced at Robert who nodded understandingly.

Standing up, you walked toward the doorway leading to the nursery, calling out softly, trying to coax the baby to silence before disappearing into the next room to pick up your son.

Gently rocking him against your bosom, your heart ached thinking about the uncertain future ahead for your tiny boy and, just as you looked for somewhere to sit down, Tommy's maid Frances entered the room.

"He looks a lot like his father, doesn't he?" Frances observed. She too heard the cries and offered to take you the reading room for sake of peace and quiet, allowing you to breastfeed your son comfortably.

"I suppose he does Frances," you responded absentmindedly, as you thought about your situation while following Frances down the stairs and into the dimly lit library.

"Would you like some help?" she offered kindly, recognising the strain on your face. "It must be hard having a young child in your care alone," she observed as you struggled with your dress.

Feeling grateful for her support, you smiled warmly and accepted her offer, but just as Frances was about to take Edward so that you could get comfortable on the sofa to feed him, Tommy came walking into the darkened room.

"I've got him. Thank you, Frances," Tommy spoke before gently taking his son from your hands.

"You may leave," he then told his maid while looking down at Edward affectionately and, immediately, his demeanor changed drastically upon seeing him as his heart filled with pride and possessiveness.

"Yes sir," Frances nodded respectfully, exiting quietly leaving only the three of you in the darkness of the library. As she closed the door behind her, the moonlight filtered through the windows casting eerie patterns across the walls and floor.

You sat down silently watching as Tommy cradled Edward close to his chest. By this point, he had stopped crying now, despite being hungry, which surprised you considering how demanding he often was.

The tender way Tommy held him seemed almost instinctual, hinting at what might lie beneath his harsh exterior as, now, there were moments when he showed compassion and vulnerability - qualities usually hidden underneath layers of bravado and brutality.

"He is quite similar to you in many ways, isn't he?" you commented, feeling an odd mixture of admiration and trepidation as you looked at Edward, your son, nestled snugly in Tommy's strong arms.

Without speaking, Tommy acknowledged your observation with a simple nod, studying the features of his son intently. His eyes traced every curve of the baby's round cheeks, captivated by the resemblance.

Edward had Tommy's blue eyes and full lips. His skin was covered in tiny little freckles that dotted his nose and forehead and you knew that these same freckles would eventually grow more prominent as he aged, becoming part of his distinctive charm.

As you watched Tommy hold his son, you felt a sudden surge of emotion flooding your heart, making it race. Despite the circumstances surrounding the conception of Edward and your complex familial connections, witnessing Tommy's paternal side made you realize again that even he possessed humanity.

Although deeply rooted in crime and violence, the bond between him and his son revealed something else entirely – something fragile, unspoken, and profoundly personal.

"I do have to feed him soon Tom," you remarked after observing the silent exchange between father and son for several minutes.

"Yes, of course," Tommy nodded graciously, handing the squirming infant back to you, his touch lingering around Edward ever so slightly longer than necessary while you lowered the top of your dress.

"I should give you some privacy," Tommy murmured, stepping away from you slowly, but you shook your head and smiled.

"You can stay if you like. It's not that you haven't seen my breasts before," you joked lightheartedly, trying to break the growing tension between you and Tommy. But instead of replying to your remark, Tommy remained silent and still, his gaze fixating solely on you and his son.

He looked at you in awe and disbelief, marveling over the fact that you gave birth to his son. The revelation struck him harder than he expected it to. For once, he couldn’t find any words to speak, lost amidst the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in his brain.

Uncomfortable with the intense silence hanging in the air, you took the initiative to diffuse the awkwardness.

"I miss the days where we were close, Tommy," you whispered gratefully as you started to undo two more buttons of your dress.

Bending forward to make access easier for your son, you glanced upwards to see Tommy watching your movements, a mix of emotions flashing across his face. Unsettled by his piercing gaze, you cleared your throat nervously and continued, focusing on your task.

"I miss these days too, Love," he replied somberly, his voice hoarse with emotion. He shifted uneasily in his seat, unable to meet your eye directly.

Silence enveloped the small space once more, thickening with the tension radiating off both of you. Sensing the moment growing increasingly fraught, you broke the tension with another comment.

"If you missed the time we spent with each other, then why did you never write to me?” you ventured, hoping to gain insight into his changing behavior.

However, your question hung heavily in the air, stirring up waves of guilt, confusion, and regret within Tommy. Unable to face the truth himself, he chose evasion instead.

"Things changed. I knew we couldn't be together, so I needed to distance myself from you," he muttered dismissively, his eyes finally finding yours, conveying sadness and loss.

"Do you love Lizzie?" you asked suddenly, wondering whether Tommy was merely settling because of the expectations placed upon him due to his position.

His brow furrowed as you posed such a direct question. Taking a deep breath, he let forth a heavy sigh, choosing his words carefully.

"Love takes time," he began cautiously, "I love our daughter, Ruby and, maybe one day, I can love her mother too," he explained, causing you to chuckle, which was a gesture he willfully ignored.

"Do you love Robert?" Tommy suddenly countered, his tone turning confrontational.

"Well, no...it's complicated," you answered hesitantly, struggling to articulate your own feelings for your lover. "We met during difficult times, and I found solace in someone I didn't think I would ever meet," you explained reluctantly and with a shaky voice.

"Alright, then tell me Love, do you still love me?" Tommy probed further, his curiosity piqued as much as his jealousy. He leaned closer, searching for signs of weakness in your eyes.

Your heart raced as your pulse quickened. Swallowing hard, you tried to hide your emotional turmoil behind a facade of indifference. However, Tommy noticed your struggle instantly.

"It doesn't matter because, whether I love you or not, won't make a difference at all," you confessed candidly, your voice breaking as you uttered those painful words. The weight of them settled between you, causing your hearts to skip a beat simultaneously.

"What happened to us Tommy? Why am I sitting here, holding your son, yet I am so far apart from you?" you lamented sorrowfully, tears beginning to pool in your eyes. This confession hurt both of you deeply, reminding you of a connection that was irreversibly severed and, just as Tommy was about to respond to your statement, his fiancée Lizzie barged in.

"Come to bed, Thomas!" she exclaimed impatiently, oblivious to the delicate balance of raw emotions simmering in the room. Her presence brought relief to Tommy, offering a welcome distraction from his tumultuous inner battle.

Avoiding any mention of your conversation, Tommy calmly rose from his chair and bid goodnight, kissing Lizzie softly on the cheek.

Then, without giving you a chance to respond, he exited the room swiftly, eager to escape the palpable tension.

Watching him go, you bit your lip anxiously, struggling to comprehend the multitude of emotions coursing through your veins. You turned toward Lizzie, trying to gauge her reaction to your encounter with Tommy. Surprised by your display of familiarity, she raised an eyebrow curiously, seemingly confused by your interaction. However, deciding against prying further, she dismissed the situation altogether.

Closing the door gently behind her, Lizzie left you alone with your thoughts and emotions. With a sense of desolation, you gathered yourself and proceeded to prepare Edward for sleep. Nursing him until he fell asleep, rocking him gently in your arms as you hummed a melody passed down generations in your family. The comforting rhythm of the song calming not only Edward but also serving as balm to your wounded soul.

Meanwhile, outside the nursery, Tommy stood motionlessly, the events transpiring inside having left him reeling.

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wtftarot · 1 month

Text

PAC: Judgment

This one is going to be fucking intense, y'all. The Judgement card calls shit the fuck out. The Judgement card isn't judgemental though. It's all about self-reflection, taking a good, hard look in the mirror, and suspending your self-criticism so you can see yourself honestly. It can talk about a reckoning of biblical proportions, things being brought to the surface and nothing will ever be the same.

That being said this reading is for entertainment purposes ONLY and is not a substitute for professional advice in any capacity. Remember, use common sense, and don't be a dumbass.

Masterlist

Pick The Flag, The Angel, or because some of y’all’s guides have a sense of humor The Ass. And head on to your reading.

THIS IS THE JUDGMENT CARD. IT IS A TOUGH LOVE READING. IF THAT IS NOT WHAT YOU FEEL YOU NEED OR ARE IN GOOD HEADSPACE FOR, THIS ISN'T THE READING FOR YOU. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

The Horn

Ten of wands, Five of Cups, The Hanged Man, Five of Swords, Death Rx, Nine of Swords, Ace of Cups Rx, Eight of Cups Rx, Seven of Cups Rx, The Fool, and The Six of Wands.

Is it loud where y'all are at? Or is there usually a lot of noise going on where you're at? I don't think that has anything to do with the reading, just something I'm picking up on. Y'all know the Judgment card is not gonna pull any punches right? And you're ready for that? Alright then, y'all are stuck in the past and it's fuckin you over. I'm getting specifically that y'all replay embarrassing memories or replay times you fucked up over and over in your head and beat yourself up over them. Now most people do that to a degree, y'all though? Y'all do it a fuck ton. You need to stop beating yourself up for past shit. You don't have to start singing your own praises or whatever, just learning to stop that train of thought when it comes up would do wonders for you. I kept pulling cards for y'all because they felt empty, that's the only way I can describe it. Y'all are so fucking drained. It's like y'all are hanging around a well that's been dry for a while, but you won't leave cause what if you go looking and never find another one? THE WELL IS FUCKIN DRY SWEETIE. You refuse to let go of the past because what if the future is worse? Or what if you never find that again? Honey, I'm gonna give it to you straight (or bi?) By holding onto the past you are guaranteeing that the future will be worse. Hanging around a dusty ass well is worse than going looking for another one, full stop. I gotta be honest, it doesn't even look like you were happy with what you're holding on to. None of the cards talk about a happy past. I keep getting this imagery of ghosts haunting an abandoned house, but it feels like you're the ghost haunting your past. There's a vibe here too, that y'all are waiting for something to rush in and change things. Like some sorta lightning strike, epiphany, huge catalyst event that's like NOW, my life can start. Sweetie, that's you. You are the change maker in your life. I understand there's a fuck ton in life that's outside of our control, I get that. That's not what this reading is talking about. It's talking about how the choices you are making are keeping you stuck. How YOU are the catalyst for change in your life. Even small steps in the right direction will make a huge difference Your reading started with the Ten of Wands and ended with the Six. The imagery on them is really beautiful for this reading. In the deck I'm using, the Ten/Wands is depicted as ten sticks all tangled together, it feels like being stuck in a dark underbrush. The Six/Wands shows a blue butterfly flying out of a dark underbrush. You have the power to move toward a brighter future. You just need to take that power into your hands and stop trying to go back to the past. I believe in y'all.

Random ass vibes: enchiladas, butterflies, 888, pop-punk, 21, pink, pastel goth

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Angel

Seven/Cups, Knight/Cups Rx, Queen/Wands Rx, Eight/Swords Rx, Six/Swords, Wheel of Fortune Rx, Ace of Cups.

I'm seeing a watercolor painting of mountains. Someone painting scenery on a road-trip. This energy feels very soft, not gentle though. Like a cat that's cuddly but will tear you to shreds the second the mood strikes them. I feel like if you picked this group, you are one tough nut to crack. You've either had a rough life so far, are a rough person or both. Probably both. There's a softness that's calling you. A softer life coming your way, you probably feel it or have seen signs about it. It's freaking you the fuck out though ain't it? This life that you're being called to embrace, "being welcomed into" I'm hearing, is so soft and free and you've never felt that have you? It's terrifying. Honey. I fucking get y'all, I get this group wholefuckinheartedly. Y'all may be scared that this softer life will make you lose your instincts, that you will go soft and helpless. I think that's why the cat analogy came up, you won't lose it, babe don't worry. You won't be de-clawed just because you find a safe lap to curl up in. I'm feeling that the people that will come in with this softer life will love your edges and teeth. Knowing you will have their back when shit hits the fan will make them feel so safe with you and vis versa. Cause believe me they will have your back just as you do theirs. This energy is dark and intense and soft and warm all at once. It's so fuckin beautiful. Here's the catch, cause you knew it was coming: You have to start creating room for this softer energy. You have to start being softer with yourself, not judging yourself for wanting that softness. Stop ridiculing soft things, open things. I know you can take the hard times in stride but stop making yourself. Just because you can handle the hard shit doesn't mean you have to all the time. There is so much ease with this energy, it's just like a whisper in my ear. This is a time of rest coming to you but you have to kinda train yourself a bit for it, teach yourself that these things are okay. Otherwise, you may just lose your shit cause it's so fuckin foreign to you. (I keep seeing a flash of a long caption on instagram?? I don't know what that means at all, I hope it clicks for one of y'all. ) I keep getting the sense that y'all are worried about losing who you are if you embrace this energy, you won't. That intensity? The claws? The smartass mouth and edge? All yours to keep. We don't lose the night and storms when spring comes now do we? The only difference now is that you'll have a shoulder to lean on and will have moments of peace. BUT you have to stop judging yourself for even thinking about a softer way, seriously. How the hell are you going to be ready to embrace this fuckin awesome new chapter if you can't even THINK about it without mentally berating yourself? You don't have to do a complete 180 immediately, just stop yourself when you catch yourself repeating those thoughts. Just change the subject, do not engage. You can argue with those self-berating thoughts if you want, ngl this group seems like take no shit types. And let's be honest, we all know that you can't mentally beat yourself into the person you want to be, anymore than you could repeatedly neglect and destroy a seedling and have it grow into a huge ass tree. Things don't get stronger by being repeatedly broken down and destroyed. Y'all have had enough of the tough-love, hustle, push harder to do better. It's your turn for ease.

random ass vibes: art, Hozier, rainy forests, two-lane highways, candy, hammocks, fresh laundry, fire.

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Ass

Four/Swords Rx, The High Priestess, Three/Pentacles, Queen/Swords Rx, The Tower Rx, Seven/Pentacles Rx, Ace/Wands and Ace/Swords Rx on the back of the deck.

Y'all's guides think they're fuckin hilarious. Not only did they keep pushing me to pick the person's ass as the picture for your group. When I was writing up the lil intro at the top, I wrote something about a good, hard look in the mirror and I heard giggling and "yea look at the dick in the mirror". (jokingly calling you a dick, not in a really mean way, more like the way you call a friend a dick) They're giggling again as I'm writing this. This energy is very youthful and light. I think y'all tend to be very hard on your past self, very critical. I keep hearing "should've known better". You need to give yourself a break, especially from past mistakes. (Do y'all have trouble focusing? I cannot seem to focus on this group, so I'm sorry if it's coming across as very jumbled. )There's a deep need to go inward and explore your inner self. I think y'all actively avoid going inward, dealing with your own emotions. It's like y'all are running away from your inner child. Some of you may have had a rough childhood but I'm getting that it's more that y'all kinda bully your past self/ inner child, as they are one and the same. It's interesting, it feels like a few of y'all are demanding yourselves to be a way that you're not naturally and it's alienating your inner child. Now, I can't say who you are naturally, not my place. I can say judging by the cards, some of y'all are pushing yourselves to be more of a logical hardass than you are and for others of you it's the opposite, you're pushing yourselves to be more intuitive, touchy-feely than you are naturally. No Judgements for either side, I do want to say whether you figure out you're more or less logical/intuitive, you can still be into tarot and everything. All are welcome. All of y'all are punishing yourselves for not being how you think you "should" be though. I do mean punishing, too. Y'all can be downright cruel to yourselves when you try to be. Pay attention to what you're saying to yourself in those moments, as I'm getting that you may be parroting something cruel that was said to you as a kid. I mean, do you even truly believe what you're saying to yourself? Cause, honestly it looks like you do and value different skill sets and understand that everyone is different and does embarrassing shit sometimes, but you have a different standard for yourself. I'm hearing something like "Yeah but everyone' beats themselves up over embarrassing shit, everyone does this, and everyone hates themselves for past mistakes. Sweetie, everyone cringes at their past, not everyone is cruel to themselves the way you are. I don't think you realize how incredibly harsh your thoughts toward your past self can be. You wonder why you can never seem to connect with your inner child when you've become their biggest bully. I mean no offense and I'm not judging you, I'm just your guide's lil messenger. I didn't intend for this to be an inner child reading, that is what it needs to be, though. The Judgment card talks about calling things to the surface, and facing the truth of you head on. Your self-judgments are leaving your inner child feeling abandoned by you. You're picking apart the foundation of yourself and wondering why you never feel like you're on solid ground. This reading is calling you to go back to basics for yourself. I'm seeing for those of you who never really had a time when you could be a child, not only is this more relevant for you, it'll have more of an impact. Think back to what made you feel safe as a kid, or what you wanted to do to make yourself feel safe that you couldn't for whatever reason. Shows you watched or wanted to watch. The food you wanted. Buy yourself a toy, playdough is cheap as hell. If you're still pretty young and you're reading this, let yourself BE young. The world is so fuckin demanding and puts so much pressure on everyone to be "mature" and grow up as fast as possible and it's bullshit. Being easier on your past self/inner child will give you that spark and energy you've felt was missing. You're never too old to let yourself feel like a kid.

random ass vibes: spinning around til you fall, gardening, 222, birthday candles, art, blanket forts,

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#tarot reading #tarot #divination #tarot community #tarot cards #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a card reading #wtftarot #pick a picture #pick a photo #pac reading

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 3 months

Text

Pretty like the sun

Previous chapter / Next chapter

a/n This is pretty like the wind series spin offs. This can be read as standalone all you need to know is that Azriel has two adoptive kids with OC - Zofie and Axel. Future stories related to them might include stories specifically decided to Azriel hence why I am taging it as Azriel story too. Don't come at me please. ✨

warning: blood, fighting, injuries, drinking.

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Nyx’s pov:

"Again", his voice sounded unfamiliar to him. He had flinched at it after the concept of time had started slipping. For a split moment, Nyx thought that it was his high lord who had spoken. That had caused him a solid punch to the jaw. The boy in front of him looked Nyx over worriedly, as his stance shifted. “You’re in or you're out? I won’t wait forever”, Nyx snarled, leaping forward. Once again, he didn’t remember when they had abandoned their swords. But he preferred it like that. Close and personal. Physical.

Another blow landed against his nose, and Nyx's head flew back. He was well aware that on his good days, the poor chap wouldn’t have landed any of the punches at all. He got close only because Nyx let him. "Enough," an annoyed voice sounded from behind him. A welcome destination for the boy in front of Nyx. It was good enough for princes’s cracked knuckles to meet the target. “Flying fuck," a rough palm gripped Nyx’s shoulder, “You are the most stupid...", a growl. Nyx tried to open his left eye, one that was now too puffed up and throbbed like a bitch. “I suggest you bugger off before I make sure that you’re eating dirt for the rest of the week," Axel’s deep growl echoed, making Nyx chuckle lightly. “Man, he asked for it", the guy lifted his palms in defiance. “And if he told you to jump from the cliff, would you do it?", the boy shrugged, only making Axel let out yet another frustrated sigh, and the other Illyrian took it as his chance to leave.

“You will make a wonderful advisor in the future," Nyx skittered. “I think I will have your ass six feet under before that could even happen," Axel grumbled, pulling at his friend’s arms and trying to help him up. “I left you for a fucking hour, Nyx," he huffed, draping Nyx’s arm over his shoulders. "Yeah, I missed you. I had to settle for a fight with an idiot”. Nyx huffed. “Do I need to remind you that you have an important high-lord party to attend soon?"—that was one of the reads Nyx had let his rails loose. He hoped that if he misbehaved badly enough and looked like a walking corpse when the day chimed, he could wiggle his ass out of it. The thought alone made him want to bend over and vomit. He wasn’t built to be a prince. He didn’t want it. It wasn’t him. Wasn’t the life he envisioned for himself.

“You’ve been acting like an absolute fool ever since we came back from Velaris; what has gotten into you?", Axel kicked the door to their cabin before guiding Nyx toward his bed. Your sister happened to me, he thought, but bit his tongue. “I just wanted to fight," Nyx growled instead. Only now did he feel how badly his body hurt. That fucker had landed more blows than Nyx had initially counted. “I know you, and this ain’t you. You can talk to me. We always talk about it”, Axel shoved Nyx’s hand away from his face before dragging a warm cloth over the swollen eye. And what would he tell him? I can't get your fucking sister out of my head. Do you know why we cannot see each other for a bit? Why is she even pulling away? Nyx grunted, pulling the cloth out of Axel’s hands.

“Why don’t you start by telling me who you’ve been running around with instead?”. It was low. Axel had a right to have a life outside of being Nyx’s right-hand man. And his love life didn’t need to be accounted for. But Nyx was so angry. Angry at everything and everyone. People constantly kept him in the dark. And then threw a bucket of news in his face while expecting him to receive it with open hands. “I ain’t running around with anybody," Axel shook his head, throwing a jar of salve Nyx’s way. But the scowl on the young prince’s face only deepened, “So, Piper doesn’t ring a bell?”. And bingo. Axel’s whole body got ridged. Did Nyx have no right to go and dig into the new arrival papers? Probably. But here they were. “Keep her name out of your fucking mouth," Axel pointed a warning finger at him, clearly not finding this one bit amusing. “And you stand here giving me lectures about sharing things," Nyx chuckled, “So why aren’t you talking, friend?" Axel shook his head, “Clean yourself up and sober up while you’re at it." He moved towards the door, and something in Nyx shifted. Axel never left. Not even when Nyx was in his shittest of moods. He had always been the only one to not leave him. Sit through his temper tantrums. "Axel," Nyx breathed, panic rising in his chest. He didn’t want to be alone right now. His head was too busy. He was too full of things he didn’t want to think of. “I’m only going to grab you some fresh water; lay down you twat," Axel grumbled back, easing the rising tide within Nyx. He nodded simply, slumping back on the mattress. His hand instantly moved beneath his pillow, where he always kept a stitched napkin that Zofie had given him. The crooked moon and stars greeted him like they always did. The stick figures holding hands. The flowers. Even the wonky sun on the far left side was perfect. Always perfect. “I’m thinking about you," Nyx muttered, brushing his fingers over the stick figure that was supposed to represent Zofie, “It’s one never-ending night over here without you, Sunny."

Zofie’s pov:

It’s only been a week, but it felt like forever. She never usually felt so desperate when they left. At least not after the first week. But she had grown restless. The cry that left Nyx’s lips as he shot up to the sky was still ringing loud and clear. Zofie heard it even through her hammering heartbeat. With her back pressed against the door, as she covered her mouth. And now it felt as if she hadn’t seen Nyx in a lifetime. It clawed at her. She knew that Axel would look after him, but... What if something happened, and that’s how they would have separated?

Zofie didn’t know what she was feeling. It all seemed too mushy and jumbled up. Now, instead of seeing a different aura around people, she simply saw black. It was impossible to distinguish between different feelings.

“Zo, do you want more pancakes?", her father’s voice made her almost drop her fork as she nodded. Azriel gave her a concerned look before plopping one of his signature breakfast goods onto her plate. “You excited to see the girls?", he asked, throwing a glance your way, only earning a slight shrug in return. “Yeah, am… It will be nice”, even if she didn’t want to see anyone. Well, maybe Piper. Axel had said that she was one of the nice girls. One Zofie could get to know if only she chose to.

“Ah, yes. You’ll be able to show them around; you can even go down to the market in the city," you chimed in, “and buy something nice or show them the good spots." But Zofie didn’t want to do that. Most spots had been hers and Nyx’s. They felt too personal to just be handed out. The same pinch in her chest made the hallow darkness spread even more. Her brows knitted as she pushed the plate further away from her. “You didn’t like it?", Azriel stopped mid-bite, almost making Zofie feel guilty. Almost. “Just not hungry," she shrugged, getting up from the table. She caught a glimpse of worry in her father’s eyes as she moved towards the stairs. The way you had reached out to squeeze his hand. And while Zofie didn’t want to keep you two in the dark, she didn’t know how to explain the emptiness inside her.

Just the fresh air and change of scenery didn’t help. It was nice to see her aunts and introduce herself to Piper, but socializing was never her thing. Nyx did most of the talking when they were out in public. He was born for that. It baffled her how quickly he managed to come up with a snarky remark as if he stored them all within his brain with special labels for just the right moment. Zofie tried to suffocate thoughts of him. Tried. But failed miserably. Everything she did or thought of was always in one way or another related to him. The thing was that she didn’t want to leave him like that. She didn't want to make him upset, but she also didn’t know how to make everyone happy. So, until she could come up with a solution, it would have to be like that.

“In my opinion, he is so much more attractive," one of the girls giggled into her palms. Attractive? How long has Zofie been out of this conversation? They were talking about the market day the last time she listened. “Well, Piper is the one who got to talk to him," the brow haired girl nudged the poor Piper, who had practically curled into herself by now, “Is he really hot up close?”.

Zofie shook her head. “Who’s hot?", she cut in, making all four sets of eyes dart up to her. And now she realized why she hated speaking in the first place. “Piper here had the prince’s second man carry her boxes”, Lina’s blond curls bobbed as she turned. But that was Axel? Why was Axel even here in the first place? He told her they could... Of course, he had met her. “Well, that’s my brother, so can we not talk weirdly about him?", Zofie scrunched up her nose, making the other two girls roll their eyes. But at least Piper’s shoulders sagged in relief. "Bore," the copycat next to Lina chirped. Zofie just couldn’t remember her name.

“We sure can talk about the prince himself," Lina smirked, and something snapped deep within Zofie, “There’s nothing to talk about." Suddenly, the prospect of having girls her age seemed like the worst idea ever. “As if... I’m determined to meet him," Lina said. The green mist rose in Zofie’s vision. “Gonna swoon him off his feet; heard he’s a proper flirt two," she elbowed her double ganger as they both chuckled.

“He will not fall for your shit," Zofie bit back, not even realizing that her hands were now firmly clenched by angry fists. “And how would you know that?", Lina fluffed her lashes. How did she know? She didn’t. Lina was pretty; you couldn’t take that from her. From the hair to her lean body. She was the embodiment of how any girl wanted to look. While Zofie… “He is my friend," she muttered, biting out the nagging thoughts. Lina chuckled, “Yeah, a friend. So, clearly, if you’re not girlfriend material, I will be."

It felt as if a bomb had exploded all around her. Vision glazing over. She saw nothing. Only Lina. She heard no one. Only Lina. And surprisingly, the girl wasn’t smiling. She looked petrified. Grasping at her throat. It felt static. As if the time had come to a halt. And then someone yanked her back. Pulling Zofie away from the neatly placed picnic blanket.

"Zofie", it sounded muffled, but her eyes did follow the sound. Only to be met with Feyre’s concerned ones. She blinked a couple of times. The fuzzy feeling cleared out. “She’s insane," a shriek sounded from behind her, making Zofie twist back. “You are dangerous, you stupid..." it was Lina, her cheeks still red, eyes wide. “Don’t finish that sentence," Cassian was gripping her shoulder, but he didn’t look too concerned with the girl. His eyes were on Zofie.

Zofie blinks a couple of times, black spots dancing in the corners of her vision. What had she done? Was it even her? Why did she... “Why don’t we go drink some tea, dear?", Feyre wrapped a hand around her shoulders. "I...", Zofie barely muttered before Feyre cut in, “Some tea with lots of honey, yes, yes." A part of Zofie wanted to run. Like she always did. Run away and hide. But Feyre pushed some of hair behind her ear, “We’ll have a nice conversation you and I”, she muttered almost ti herself, “Bake cookies even. Cookies always help”.

Nyx’s pov:

“Give me that," Axel said, snatching the glass out of Nyx’s hand, “You’ve been here for an hour." An hour too long. The hustle of the people was making Nyx sick. It was bad enough that he had to stand for the majority of that hour next to his parents, smiling as if he was thrilled to be there while he was slowly dying inside. Nyx kept dead-eye contact with Axel through it all, even if there was a sea of females who were trying to catch his eyes.

“I still think that you should cover for me so I can sneak out," Nyx grumbled. He had made at least five escape plans; he even planned to fake an allergic reaction, but Axel hadn’t been as thrilled about that. “Midnight. We had a deal”, Axel muttered, scanning the crowd. He was Nyx’s hawk, noting slipped past Axel. And as much as Nyx hated to admit it, Azriel was the one who had taught him all of it. “But you’ll dance with half of the girls in that line," Nyx nodded towards the girls who hadn’t stopped staring at him ever since the night began. “They ain’t her for me, kitten," Axel mused, making Nyx roll his eyes. “I’ll put a good word out for you," the prince said with a tap on his friend’s shoulder.

“Is your family coming?", Nyx scanned the crowd for familiar face. Well, correction. Is Zofie coming? He had tried to sneak back to Velaris before all this. He had to because his brain was going into overdrive. It had been eleven days, eighteen hours, forty-seven minutes, and 45... 46 seconds till he had laid eyes on her. And by now, he was more than okay with just catching a glimpse. He could do with that. He would settle for that. “Papa should," Axel said calmly, “Ma’ wasn’t feeling too well, so she’s back at the cottage." Translation: Zofie didn’t want to go, so Y/N stayed back with her. Nyx clenched his jaw. “Everyone’s healthy and well?", he was fishing for straws here, and he knew it. “Yeah, it’s all well; little one is growing too fast, though. Could have sworn she fit in my palm before we left," Axel muttered, and a part of Nyx was glad that he hadn’t caught onto his real intentions.

“Here you are”, a strong palm landed on Nyx’s shoulder, making the boy look to the side. His smug father stood there, way too happy with himself. “High Lord," Axel said, lowering his head in greeting, even though Nyx had specifically told him to not kiss his father with flatly. “You two are hiding in the back as if this is a funeral," Rhys shook his head with a smile, “Come up to the front tables; quite a couple of people are looking for you." Nyx’s eye twitched. If only he could scream now. He was convinced all the windows would shatter. He wanted out. Why was no one catching onto the fact that he was suffocating? He didn’t want to be a part of his father’s plans. He didn’t want to be a perfect son. A one-day-crowned prince.

Nyx was sure that Rhys could see the malice burning through his eyes, considering that his face went dead serious. Nyx knew that his father would stomp his foot, and he would have to do it. Or that pleading look on his mother’s face would claw at his heart till he gave in. He felt Axel’s hand on his shoulder blade. He was spiraling then. His magic was flaring up and Axel was warning him like he always did. Nyx was about to open his mouth when his eye caught movement behind his father. His eyes narrowed. Vision sharpening, and then it all died down.

The ringing in his ears faded. The choking feeling subsided. “Nyx, I am talking to you," Rhys said, gripping his upper hand, but Nyx shook it off as he stepped forward. Smile tugging at his lips. She was a vision. There might have been hundreds of females here tonight. Wrapped in the most expensive silks and velvet. But he hadn’t given them a second glance. And now she stood there at the top of the staircase. Looking over the hall. Nyx only hoped that she was looking for him.

And then her gaze found his. As if he had brought it right back to him. As if in a sea of bodies, she knew where he would be. And then she smiled. And Nyx was convinced that someone had spiked the wine because she shouldn’t be smiling. He moved faster, his hands gripping the railing as he jogged up the stairs. He missed every other step as he went. Was it appropriate? No. Was he making a spectacle considering that they were right above everyone and had nowhere to blend in? Yes. But did he care? No. Because even with twenty stairs separating them, she was too far away, and at the same time, she was in front of him way too quickly, leaving him no time to pick through his thoughts.

“You came?", Nyx breathed heavily. Zofie crossed her arms over her chest, looking him up and down. "I had a feeling you were struggling to get through this," she said casually, “Axel said that your sassiness has been off lately." Nyx wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry at this point as he stepped closer to her, shielding her tiny frame from any curious glances. "Sunny," he muttered, ready to watch her fade away the same way she always did in his dreams.

“Your hands are trembling," she breathed, reaching out for his palms, “Why are your hands trembling?" Her worried eyes looked up at him, and he was ready to sink to his knees in front of her. “I… I am nervous”, he muttered like a teenager, looking at his first-ever crush. “You never get nervous around me," Zofie frowned, shaking her head. And then there was one heartbeat. One. Nyx’s left hand reached behind her as he pulled her into his chest, wrapping her up in his embrace.

He was shivering all over. But all the systems in his body that had been flashing red for days now were finally running smoothly. It felt as if he could finally breathe. That lavender sugar scent that she carried drowned him in her. “We need to get out of here," Nyx breathed again, her hair neatly braided with daisies. “I didn’t spend an hour lacing this for nothing," Zofie muttered, pulling back from his embrace. Both of their eyes fall onto the deep purple and black bodice. A vision. Nyx reached for her hand. “I’ll appreciate the hell out of it for you, Zof; I will," he muttered, dragging her towards the double-sided door. He heard gasps as he moved. Pretty sure he even heard his name being called. Pret sure he heard footsteps. But the moment he was out in the cold night air, he wrapped his arms around Zofie once more. Bringing her as close as he possibly could before shooting up at the sky and winnowing halfway through the plush clouds. Now that he had gotten his sun back, not even the devil himself was strong enough to take her away.

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Taglist: @sirenpearldust @historygeekqueen @hnyclover @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @naturakaashi i @stressed-reader @woodland-mist @goldenmagnolias @nocasdatsgay @lees-chaotic-brain

#nyx x oc #nyx imagine #nyx x reader #nyx acotar #nyx archeron #nyx acotar x reader #nyx acotar imagine #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar x oc #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel imagine #azriel acotar x reader

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