#He's apparently had lessons for a year

[unashamedly-enthusiastic]

Thrilled and Delighted to hear (quite literally) that my 8yr old downstairs neighbour has kept up with his music lessons and has progressed from stage 1 to stage 2

Stage 1 Stage 2

[flowerflamestars]

What do you think of Rhysand’s mother? I have a few questions about her after reading this post (https://flowerflamestars.tumblr.com/post/641487845398364160/are-we-ever-gonna-talk-about-how-rhysand-can) about Rhysand’s childhood.

1. Do you think Rhysand’s was as soft and gentle as Rhysand portrays her? I never got that vibe because when he describes her, he said that she gave her ring to the Weaver for safekeeping and brought Rhysand to the camps for training? I think it would take a very cunning and intelligent person to bring their child to the camps for more than one type of training (physically and not just magically). I truly do not think that she was as helpless as Rhysand portrays her to be. What do you think?

2. Why do you think she brought Rhysand to the camps? There are a few reasons mentioned within the books, they are: she wanted him to know his culture, use his physical strength and not his magical strength, and that she saw his father as cruel and wanted Rhysand to be separate from him. The issue I have with this is that it actually does not make any sense.

Rhysand’s mother was raised in a family oriented society, Azriel said as much when he was teaching Feyre how to fly. So for her to “break up” their family and go against the values she was raised with by sending Rhysand to the camps, I think she did it because she hated his father. I do not truly think it had anything to do with Rhysand having control over his physical strength and not just his magical prowess. She was removed from her people very abruptly, forced to live in a land that she probably knew nothing about, and did not see her family until she came back to the Illyrian camps. It literally said she was brought to Velaris and became his bride the same night. It was probably very jarring for her and I think that is why she struggled to like his father. And on top of that, his father was known to be mean. I do not think she brought Rhysand to the camps because she wanted him to be physically strong, I think she thought him because training male children is all she knows, (it’s what she grew up with in the camps) and she wanted to get away from Rhysand’s father that she saw as evil.

I do not hate her but I think the way she is described in the series by Rhysand is a bit contradictory. I don’t think there was a lot of foreword planning as to why she brought him to the camp, she just did not like his father and made Rhysand train because it is all she saw the women around her doing while she was growing up.

3. Why specifically do you think Rhysand hates the Illyrians? I firmly believe that he hates them because of their way of life. He seems to enjoy the nicer things in life, he doesn’t live in the camps and likes having nice expensive things. I loved how in your post you highlighted how his first couple years of life was in absolute privilege and pleasure. He had no worries and then suddenly he was dumped in a freezing cold place where people barely have any belonging except for the stuff they need to survive. It was probably very jarring and confusing for him and he never got over it.

I am so happy that I came across someone who speculates about Rhysand mother. A figure we hardly talk about or was mentioned in the books.

Hi, thank you!

Caveat, obviously, this is all my own personal speculation, and I think Rhysand's mother (and his sister, for that matter) aren't really characters in canon, so much as they are plot beats. They're there initially to explain the Tamlin/Rhysand hostility (which Rhys just forgave? I guess?) and then if we're really stretching things as a sort of combo guilt complex/justification for being over-protective of Feyre.

The soft and gentle vibe...very much rubs me the wrong way. We don't have a good handle on when, exactly Rhysand's mother died- after the first war with Hybern, since we know Rhysands father was High Lord during that conflict- but not so long after that Rhysand wasn't young. And that shows. His mother is kind, beautiful phantom.

He can tell Feyre her actions- arguably ruthless and iconoclastic (more on that later)- but he then completely flattens her character into one note: his mother. his beautiful, good, tragic mother.

Which is not to say ruthless woman aren't good mothers- it's that Rhysand carries so much guilt about her death that he cannot, even as an adult, even five hundred years later, see her as a whole, complete person.

I think she probably was a good mother- but not in ways Rhysand bothers to reflect on.

Which brings me to the Illyrian camps.

I've never seen it addressed, but I cannot imagine Rhysand's mother returning to that place- she has a house! she stays there and takes care of Rhys and his friends!- was not a personal sacrifice.

There are two Illyrian women, in total, in all of the books, who can fly. Who are not ritually maimed. Who have, besides the freedom of the sky, the apparent freedom to go wherever they want: Rhysand's mother, and Rhysand's sister.

Their whole existence spits in the face of tradition.

She stays in a hostile environment so her son knowns he isn't alone. And maybe this is where his dislike of Illyrians started- they probably fucking despised his mother.

(I can't speculate about family because...it doesn't seem like there is any? I also don’t think a woman who tried starving herself and drugging herself to avoid the rituals her people practiced around puberty really cared about falling in with tradition)

But I do really think he takes all the wrong lessons from it. (as expanded on in the original post) I don't even think it's about superior training- the Illyrian Legions are a threat, ultimately because their entire existence has been reduced down to war- but the other faeries we meet? The other High Lords, even? Are all incredibly violent. Rhysand was always going to learn to fight, not to mention the fact that he can, as is apparently a family skill, melt people with his brain.

But I digress- I think the whole point isn't threat, necessarily, it's that Rhysand's mother is preparing for his adulthood. She's showing him where she came from, with the knowledge he, and he alone, can change it some day.

Ditto for the ring! If her son was going to grow to break traditions, then whoever his partner was, they were going to be in danger too. It's a pretty straightforward test of strength. There's a future Rhysand's mom wants to happen, and she's shoring it up in fascinatingly ruthless ways.

Which means it's time to talk about Daddy Rhysand.

In VERY SIMILAR my parents are not people they're how I traumatically felt about them when they died when I had the maturity of a teen and have NEVER INTERROGATED ANY EMOTION EVER- Rhysand's father is hilariously one-note.

We know he separated Rhysand from his friends during the war- which I know we're supposed to see as mean and unfair but...kind of makes sense? So much as anything does in an obviously flawed, shitty system but like, they belonged to different parts of a military defense???

Anyway.

We know Rhysand dismissed his government- no clues on what that structure was- and replaced them with his friends.

And we know, that despite whatever flaws Rhysand prescribes, he could have loved Rhysand's mother very much.

I have to disagree with the whole hiding in the camps/hiding the ring thing for the very simple reason that Rhysand's father could have stopped her, at literally any time. He lets her take his heir to this incredibly dangerous place, which shows, at minimum, trust in her judgement.

He doesn't do anything, as far as we know, when she gives away her wedding ring for Plotting Antics.

Rhysand remembers them as Wild & Kind vs Rigid & Mean- but like, isn't that exactly how an angry teen who doesn't have the skills/perspective/emotional maturity would see it?

Not to lean hard on the grievously sexist world-building, but High Lords hold absolute power in their Courts.

Rhysand's mother was, in contrast, not just lacking in power because she was a young woman, but was also a member of tightly controlled, horrifically abused minority.

Saving her initially from the wing-clipping can probably be written off- ugh ugh ugh on 'protective instincts'- but after that? He takes her home. He doesn't hide her or seem remotely ashamed of her, from what we know. She was Lady of Night. She lived in palace he built her, specifically designed to be flown to, where no one could winnow, for her safety and comfort.

He didn't stop her from teaching their children things from a culture faeries of his class wildly despise. Moreover, it sounds like she just did whatever the hell she wanted, traveling around, making deals with the Weaver, ect.

None of that means their relationship couldn't have problems or difficulties, but what we're shown is ultimately more complex. It could have been love! She could have been terribly lonely! He could have tried and failed to bridge the gap! We just don't know, but he never caged her or even, it seems, contained her.

I can't, for example, imagine Rhysand allowing Feyre to run away to Illyria with their kid.

Which- okay, I can't talk about Rhysand's mother without talking about the dress thing.

The ring thing? Ruthless. Crazy. An interesting snap-shot into what Rhysand's mother was like.

THE DRESS THING??? God. Wearing an inherited piece of jewelry, like say, an heirloom wedding ring guarded by a primordial horror, can be cool.

Wearing clothes your mother-in-law made, who happened to be a very talented seamstress? Yeah, works of art.

WEARING CLOTHES YOUR MOTHER-IN-LAW MADE YOU, THAT YOUR SPOUSE PICKS OUT FOR YOU, PRE-CHOSEN FOR EVERY IMPORTANT OCCASION WHILE YOU'RE WEARING HER RING, INHERITING HER TITLE AND LIVING IN HER HOUSE? Fucking weird

This is, of course, not the most egregious or creepy boundary crossing thing that happens, by far, but thinking about it AT ALL makes me feel like my brain is liquifying.

Rhysand's daddy issues are so loud they envelope everything- and, dare I say, define his entire adult character almost as badly as Feyre's do- but the behind the scenes mommy issues?

Feyre with ILLYRIAN WINGS! AS A SEX THING! Feyre's insanely inadvisable pregnancy!

Rhysand has rolled all his guilt into one unhealthy thing and it's Feyre, his mom sister pet Mate, he'll do anything to protect.

He's like one book from hauling out her old dresses from storage and having a family portrait made of himself (a better version of his father, A DREAMER), Mama Feyre, and perfect little treasure better future perfect accessory NightNight staged the same way as the royal portraiture that used to be in his father's office or something. WE ARE RIGHT ON AN ALARMING LINE

In sum: I think Rhysand's mother is fascinating, and we're never going to know more. I don't find Rhysand's hatred of Illyrians justifiable- it's cultural, but it's also systemic and he is, literally, the head of the broken system causing most, if not all, of that cascade. He could have been a great hope for them, as a nation.

I can go either way on Rhysand's parents having a good or bad relationship- there's no definitive answer, but I do think her agency is present enough to...wonder about how he speaks about it.

[succubi-tch]

Very pissed at two of my closest friends but at this point it's almost just whatever.

[myname-isnia]

What I miss most about going to school while we're stuck home due to the cold is my little daily game of finding where the younger kids dragged the octopuses off to

These are Methodius, Paphnutius, and Martha. Often the only things in our entire school building keeping me sane

[wawek]

Depressed and making the ugliest wire wrap on gods earth. At least im #creating

[allylikethecat]

NEW ALLY LORE UNLOCKED 🔓

YOU HAD A NIPPLE PIERCING?????

HAHAHA yeah 😂 only for like a year though because I took it out for my sinus surgery and then was too much of a wimp / waited to long to put it back in and it closed. Sometimes I think about getting it redone (it was my party nip!! because I only had one done) but then I remember how badly it hurt and I don't. I'm also not nearly as shameless as I was at 21 🤣 my roommates and I all went and did it together it was a great bonding moment lol. I'm sure there are pictures of me somewhere where you can clearly see it through the skin tight body suits I used to wear clubbing with no bra in the freezing cold 😂 I'm very boring now though, I work in the software industry and wear like... Alo and Lululemon like a suburban soccer mom even though I have no children and no plans for that to ever change haha But yes new lore 😂 (see!! I used to be fun!!)

I hope you are having a wonderful Tuesday and a fantastic rest of your week!

❤️Ally

[jesterwaves]

i found a surname for a character that i really liked and almost went with, but i just found out it's this languages equivalent of another surname that was the name of a guy who had *weird* beef with me in elementary school.

[augustinewrites]

“do you not love me anymore?”

satoru’s (self-proclaimed) adorable pout is rendered ineffective when you refuse to look up from your work, typing away on your computer as his world absolutely crumbles.

“are you a worm?” you ask, wholly uninterested in his theatrics.

“no.”

“then of course i still love you.”

“then what the heck is this?!”

sighing, you finally lift your gaze to see your wallet open and laid out in front of you. “that’s what this is about?”

“you took my favourite picture of us out for megumi’s school photo!”

“that was not your favourite picture of us,” you argue. “you keep that in a locked folder on your phone.” 

(it’s your fault that he thinks of that photo now, having to utilise mental skills he’d learned during unnecessarily sexy sparring lessons in high school to will away the beginning of stiffness in his pants) 

“that’s not the point,” he says calmly, tapping a finger over megumi’s glaring face. “the point is that i’m losing top-billing in my girlfriend’s wallet to a snot-nosed brat with a crush.” 

“really? you’re competing with a seven year old?” 

“it’s not competing if i’m losing!”

“it’s puppy love, satoru,” you laugh, closing your wallet before he can see that his card is inside. “i don’t think he’s ever had someone - that wasn’t his sister - fussing over him.”

“no, he definitely has a crush on you,” your boyfriend insist, draping himself over your lap quite dramatically. “can we still disown him if the adoption papers haven’t gone through yet?”

“no one is disowning anyone,” you tell him, gently pushing back his bangs to plant a kiss on his forehead. “you’ll just have to learn to live with the competition.”

_____

you’re halfway through the show you’re watching when the front door swings open and satoru tumbles inside. “honey, i’m home! nanami almost killed me at the gym.”

“hey, there’s lunch in the fridge,” you call, eyes glued to the television. 

satoru, predictably, is unsatisfied with this. he grabs the mug that you’re holding and sets it on the coffee table, wrapping you in a sweaty hug and peppering your face with kisses. 

“let me love you!” he whines, his hair tickling your nose as he nuzzle his face into your neck.

“you can love me after you take a shower, cause you stink.” your tone is stern, but you can’t seem to fight the smile that grows on your face as he hugs you tighter. 

“this is all for your benefit,” he argues, finally releasing you just to pull the hem of his shirt up. you try to smother the heat rising to your face, but satoru notices, a self satisfied smirk on his lips as he pats his abs. “i’m letting nanami kill me at the gym for you.”

“you’re such a slut,” you mutter, wriggling out of his grasp and over to the opposite end of the couch. satoru relents, staying on his end as he recounts his (apparently) near-death experience at the gym.

it’s a few moments later when megumi saunters into the living room.

“megumi! come sit with me!”

the boy’s nose immediately wrinkles. “you stink.”

his full-force pout returns. “i do not!”

“do too.”

“do not—”

“do too,” megumi scoffs, plopping down next to you and resting his head against your arm. 

“so you’re gonna let him snuggle with you but not me? i’m tired and sore and—”

“and sweaty,” you finish. “go take a shower.” 

he glances down at the kid glued to your side, brows raised as he mouths, crush. 

you roll your eyes, thinking it wise to not engage in any banter in front of megumi. 

(but as your attention returns to the tv, what you don’t see is megumi’s own little smirk, directed right at satoru.

like father, like son.)

[cerealandchoccymilk]

oh shit. completely forgot about namehunting....

[dreamcubed]

i think he knows | theodore nott x reader

song; i think he knows [taylor swift] pairing; theodore nott x ravenclaw!fem!reader genre; not actually unrequited love, s2l, fluff word count; 3,1k timeline; half-blood prince warnings; swearing, theo's lack of communication summary; you had fancied the mysteriously quiet slytherin boy for as long as you could remember (since first year), and, quite frankly, your best friend was sick of you going on about it without ever making a move

masterlist

"wanna see what's under that attitude."

—————————————

Truth was, you knew you weren't special for having your attention caught by Theodore Nott. Despite his almost entirely anti-social personality and apparent grumpiness, many girls longed after him. You completely understood, of course; there was something enticing about a potentially misunderstood quiet boy, and the idea of becoming the one person they show affection to was self-indulging.

The fact of the matter, as your best friend, Cho, frequently pointed out, was that you had never even so much as spoken to him. You hoped he at least knew you existed, from the times you had been praised in class for your assignments, but you had no proof that he even recognised your face.

"Babe, it's sixth year now- that's over five years of you fancying Nott," Cho said as she caught your gaze lingering over to the Slytherin table again. It was your second day back after summer, so you had a lot of long-distance admiring to catch up on.

"Okay, so?" you replied, not even bothering to move your eyes away from the object of your desires.

"So, it's time that you do something about it," she continued, shovelling scrambled eggs on to both her plate and yours, "Do you really want to leave Hogwarts without any dating experience?"

You finally prized your eyes away from Nott, opting instead to meet your concerned best friend's gaze, "I don't think it's the sort of time to be thinking about dating."

"It's especially the time to think about it," she said, "Our lives may be shorter than we think they are - don't die with regrets."

You sighed, unable to argue.

"Plus, it really wouldn't hurt to have some positivity around here. You can feel how much heavier the air is than before."

That, you had to agree with. People were still laughing in their friend groups throughout the hall, sure, but there was a lingering sense of dread that had stuck with everyone since the Triwizard Tournament and reign of Umbridge, and it was only getting worse.

"Maybe," you finally concluded, picking up your fork to dig into your breakfast.

"You have nothing to lose," she added, "Your social circles are completely separate, and, you're pretty as fuck."

You couldn't help but smile at her compliment, "Even if that's true, I'm completely inexperienced."

"It's not that hard."

"Yeah, says the girl who had both Hogwarts champions drooling over her. No offence, babe, but you're biased."

"That could just have easily been you if you'd ever spoken to either of them."

"Whatever you say."

Cho sighed, deciding to not argue any further with you on the matter - for now.

***

It was amazing how potions went from your least favourite subject to your favourite after Slughorn took over from Snape. The lessons were no longer a fear-inducing chore, but instead a time of laughter and enjoyable learning: the way it should be.

Harry Potter especially seemed to be flourishing in the subject, much to the dismay of Hermione Granger, who usually took the spot at the top of the class. You were glad to not be a part of their constantly hectic lifestyles, although you had almost been when Cho had a thing with Harry the year prior.

Regardless, your main focus during potions was the gorgeous Slytherin boy who sat across the classroom from you - another of the best students in the class. Your seat was stationed at the perfect angle to sneak glances at him without raising too much suspicion: you definitely hadn't ensured that a few weeks ago during the first lesson or anything.

"Shit, I forgot the anjelica," you muttered to yourself, gazing at the list of ingredients in front of you as you had been wondering why your potion was a navy blue when it was meant to be a royal blue.

You left your station to head over to the ingredients cupboard, where you gazed at the arrangement before you. It was organised alphabetically, so your eyes shifted to the top left hand corner where you spotted the jar that you were after.

You stood on your tiptoes in attempt to reach it, but after failing, you huffed, going to pull out your wand instead. That was when a hard chest pressed against your back and a large pale hand grasped the very jar that you were in dire need of. You turned around quickly only to spot the guy you had fancied for an unhealthy amount of time - and his face was shockingly close to yours. His scent swarmed your nostrils, making your knees weak.

He raised an eyebrow at you.

Coming to your senses, you cleared your throat, "Uh, I need some of that anjelica- please."

His eyes shifted down to the jar in his hand as he stepped back slightly. The added distance meant that you could finally breathe.

Nott presented the jar to you, and you gratefully took it, thanking him in the process. As you went to open it and take what you needed, he left the cupboard and went back to his station, which was in view of where you were. You remained shocked for a few moments: did he not need some of the herb? His eyes locked on to yours from where he now was, making you panic and quickly depart the cupboard with the jar still in your hand.

Rowena, how did Cho expect you to ask him out when you couldn't even make eye contact with him?

***

The following morning, you were sat at breakfast with Cho and your other fellow Ravenclaws, busy discussing the latest ancient runes essay that you had to complete. Just as you began to discuss the difficulties you had with writing the conclusion, you were interrupted by the sound of owls from above. The morning post had arrived.

Typically, you didn't get anything. Maybe the occasional letter from your mother, but that was about it. So, you were mildly surprised to see an envelope drop in front of you.

It was a very small envelope: that was the most confusing part. You couldn't think as to why your mother wouldn't send a normal-sized letter, but you opened it nonetheless. Only, the contents of the envelope made your stomach drop as dread filled your bones and veins.

A tiny note was enclosed, that wasn't addressed or signed, and it simply read "I see you staring at me". Instinctively, your eyes looked up and over to the Slytherin table, where Theodore Nott sat, evidently having been watching you this entire time. His face was completely blank, until he arched an eyebrow at you - clearly a favoured expression of his - which made you begin panicking.

"Oh, fuck," you mumbled, "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Only Cho, who was sat next to you, heard your profanities, and turned to you with confusion adorning her face. "What is it?"

You passed the note over to her, still gazing at Nott who now had the slightest of amused smirks tugging on his lips.

"Oh, fuck," Cho mimicked you, finally making you prize your eyes away from the boy, "Yeah, I see why you're panicking."

"This is going to socially ruin me," you sighed, "He'll probably tell the other Slytherins and then they'll bully me until the end of my school career."

"Okay, catastrophising much?" she said, gently slapping you, "Nott like never talks, I highly doubt he divulges his friends with personal information."

"Yeah, his personal information!" you whisper-yelled.

"I mean, maybe he likes you back."

"What?"

"He doesn't indicate at all in that note that he's mad at you for staring at him."

"Yeah, but, don't you think he'd go about it in a different way if he returned the feelings?"

Cho paused to think for a moment, "No, actually. Maybe he was pretty sure that you were staring at him, but needed to confirm it. So, he wrote that note to you, intentionally not signing it, to see if you would immediately look to him after reading it."

Your eyes widened with realisation, "Wait, are you saying I could have still saved myself, but instead instantly looked in his direction like a fucking idiot?"

"Y/N," she hit your arm, "I think this is a good thing. Try and be more optimistic."

"Easy for you to say."

***

You felt sick to your stomach as you arrived at your potions lesson that day, keeping your head down as you took your usual seat. Normally, this would be when you'd steal your first glance at Theodore Nott, but the thought of seeing his face again paralysed you with fear.

"Y/N, relax," Cho whispered to you, but her words were futile. Relaxation seemed impossible in times like this.

"Today, class, I want you to pair up with someone you don't usually work with," Professor Slughorn announced, "By that I mean, someone who isn't from your house and doesn't sit on your table."

You mumbled a curse under your breath as people began to move around, looking up to try and locate the nice Hufflepuff girl you sat next to in history of magic. Only, Cho had already disappeared to her side, and they were chatting happily with each other. Rowena, this was bad. You didn't have the biggest social circle.

"Excellent, everyone seems to be in pairs," Slughorn spoke, making you furrow your eyebrows.

Looking to your side, you were shocked to see that Nott had silently sat next you, and was gazing at you intently.

"Hi," you squeaked, flashbacks of breakfast flooding back to you.

He gave you a curt nod, and turned back to face the front.

You didn't listen to a single instruction that Slughorn gave after that, as your brain was much too pre-occupied with concepts of social suicide and humiliation. Was Nott just trying to torture you?

"L/N," a deep voice snapped you out of your thoughts. That was it. The first time you had ever heard Theodore Nott speak.

You turned to him, only to realise that everyone was standing up and getting ingredients - had you really been that spaced out?

It must have been evident in your facial expression that you had no idea what was going on, because Nott opened his potions book and pointed at the potion that you were making. You looked at the ingredient list, but you couldn't say that you were actually taking any of it in.

Clearly, Nott was aware of this fact, and let out a small sigh that made you feel exceptionally guilty. Regardless, he walked over to the ingredients cupboard himself without another word and soon returned with everything you needed. In the meantime, you had snapped out of your stupor and set up the cauldron and cutting board. You didn't want him to completely regret pairing up with you.

What potion were you even making? You finally processed the words on the page: amortentia. Your eyes widened.

This might not end well.

***

You had never thought being a remarkable potion maker - who was collaborating with a fellow remarkable potion maker - would be a bad thing. It turned out that it very much could be when the steam from your concoction wafted up your nose, overwhelming your senses with the smell of intertwined chestnut and paper money. As if the faint scent of Nott that you picked up on whenever he walked past didn't make you nervous enough, now it filled the entire room, since you certainly weren't the only capable potion makers in the class.

"Alright, class, it seems that we have all about finished," Slughorn clapped his hands together, "And, now, for my favourite part."

You had a feeling you knew what was coming.

"Miss Parkinson, what does the potion smell like to you?"

"Uh," the girl flushed a bit, her eyes flicking towards Draco Malfoy, "I don't know how to describe it - clean, expensive. Like a really fancy fragrance."

"Fascinating, most fascinating," Slughorn replied, his eyes gleaming, "Mr Nott, what about you?"

Were you already about to hear him speak for the second time? He hadn't spoke throughout the entire potion making process, which, to be honest, you were kind of glad for.

"Coconut," he said simply, "And vanilla."

Your breath hitched.

You used coconut shampoo.

Your favourite perfume was a vanilla scent.

"That is most interesting!" Slughorn grinned, "It is fascinating to hear what enraptures you all the most!"

You didn't realise that your eyes had glued on to Nott as Slughorn proceeded to ask other students what amortentia smelled of to them until the Slytherin boy turned to face you and raised a singular eyebrow.

You felt warm underneath his gaze.

He smirked.

***

You packed up at the end of the lesson, preparing to return to the Ravenclaw tower until dinner time along with Cho who was still across the room. Just as you were about to walk over to her, Nott grabbed your arm and jerked his head in the direction of the door. It was a silent invitation to walk with him somewhere, from what you could gather. You turned around to tell Cho where you were going, but she had already disappeared, much to your confusion.

The first few minutes of the walk were in silence, and the awkwardness was killing you. It was only once you had emerged from the dungeons that Nott finally said something.

"You aren't subtle."

A lightning bolt of shock and nerves shot up your spine and made you stiffen up as you walked. You managed to force out a mumble of, "I know."

He shrugged, "It's cute."

Had you heard him right? No, you couldn't have. You just weren't used to hearing his voice.

"I thought you were shy," you muttered, but he heard and chuckled a bit.

"No. Just quiet."

You clutched your books close to your chest.

"You're shy," he added.

You nodded.

He chuckled again, and silence ensued for another couple minutes.

"Hogsmeade," he said.

You hummed in surprise.

"This weekend. Me, you."

Your jaw dropped - did he mean a date? A Hogsmeade invitation had certain implications among Hogwarts students.

But he didn't clarify, not once on the way to the Ravenclaw tower.

***

"Relax, Y/N, you'll be great," Cho assured you, wrapping your scarf around your neck since the autumn breeze was nippy in Scotland.

"I don't even know if it's a date."

"Of course it's a date," she shook her head, "Everyone knows what inviting someone to Hogsmeade means."

You grimaced, "I don't know if Nott is the most up to date with social norms."

"Regardless, he's not a fucking idiot."

You gave your best friend a small smile.

"Now, he'll be waiting for you in the courtyard, so hurry!"

***

You had only ever seen Theodore Nott in casual clothing from afar before, catching a glimpse of him before he disappeared amongst the other Slytherins. But, Rowena, you had been missing out on quite an indulgent sight.

How could a man make such a simple outfit of a knitted jumper and baggy jeans look so good? You didn't understand it, unable to feel anything but self-conscious in your own ensemble.

He didn't smile at you as you approached, but instead gave you a curt nod. And, as you both began walking towards the carriage, the silence was truly beginning to suffocate you. So, you reached inside the crevices of your brain to talk about something - anything - and finally landed on informing him of every little thing that had happened to you that week. It wasn't particularly interesting, mainly because you were omitting the details about him, but it meant that the quietness was filled with your babbling.

Which was how it went the entire journey to Hogsmeade.

At first you weren't sure he was listening, but when you paused mid sentence for a moment, he raised his eyebrow at you and gestured for you to go on. So you did.

"...and honestly, I don't know why Cho thought that was a good idea," you sighed as you both stepped out of the carriage, "She nearly set her hair on fire!"

You heard a small chuckle erupt from the boy next to you, making you look over to him in surprise.

"What about you? How's your week been?" you asked cautiously, nervous to see his reaction to a question that required a wordy response.

He shrugged.

It was frustrating.

You chewed your lip for a few seconds, "Look- I get you find communication difficult. But, please, I need more to work with here."

He gave you a surprised expression, and stopped walking, making you halt too. Nott looked around pensively, completely unreadable.

"Nott?"

He looked at you and scowled, "Theo," he corrected.

"Theo- what are you doing?"

Letting out a loud exhale, he grabbed your hand and pulled you away from the main street of Hogsmeade and to a more hidden area behind some of the houses. When you turned around, you realised that he was right in front of you - to the point that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face.

"I'm not good with words," he mumbled.

You hummed in agreement.

"I don't like talking to people," he continued, "But I want to talk to you."

Your breath hitched, "Really?"

"I'm not an idiot- I've known that you've fancied me for years."

You felt your ears heat up.

"But this year, when we started back, I-" he paused, trying to piece together the words in his mind, "I saw you, and it was different than before. I wanted your attention."

A smile crept on to your face as you gazed up at him.

"So, I know I need to work on being open - but I want to try. For you."

You don't know where the wave of confidence came from, but you found yourself pressing your lips against his and combing your fingers through his hair. He gasped at the sudden contact, but quickly reciprocated the affection until you pulled apart.

"Rowena... I always thought you knew. I can't believe I was right."

"Horrifying?"

"A little," you nodded, "But it's obviously worked out."

————————————————

masterlist

written; 03/06/2023 —> 15/08/2023 published;17/08/2023 edited; —/—/——

[flamingpudding]

That's our baby hero

Protective Amity Park Au but maybe not like you would think?

Danny's identity wasn't as hidden as Sam, Tucker, Jazz and him thought. His identity was an open secret, in fact his whole town knew that Danny was their hero Phantom, well everyone but his oblivious parents but they were a case of their own. The thing was his entire town knew about his oh so big secret identity and that he was the one trying to save them from ghosts 90% of the time as well as from his own parents crazy inventions at times.

Dash shoving him into lockers like a bully? Danny didn't look good and Dash tried in crude ways to give him reasons to skip classes to rest. It also later was a good move to hide him from snoopy government agents also known as the Guys in White or GIW for short. Really his bullying played perfectly into him finding creative ways to get Danny to skip classes for rest.

Valerie hunting him and other ghosts? Well she was hunting him in the very beginning, but then it became an attempt to make him stop fighting the ghosts on their behalf but in the end it turned into her trying her best to be the support to him that Sam and Tucker couldn't be in a fight. Let alone taking 'night shifts' from him so Danny could get at least a good nights rest every now and then.

Sam's parents the Mansons? Sure they didn't like him that much from the start anyway but most of their anger later stemmed from the danger their daughter was willingly get into to help their reckless teenhero that shouldn't be a hero at his age anyway. Let alone shoulder the responsible for their entire town at the age of 14.

Tuckers parents? They were glad any time Danny stayed over with their son, even attempting to subtitle convince the boys to have more sleepovers at their home. Surely being a hero with ghost powers and living in a house of ghost hunting parents wasn't easy on Danny. They were glad that they could give him some peace at their home. They willingly ignored it when Danny showed up late night in Tuckers room, getting patched up by their son.

The entire town apparently hating him with all these negative newspapers and comments? All fake in a desperate attempt to get the 14 years old teenager with a bad sleeping schedule and powers to stop risking his damned life, half-life. Surely if they appeared not thankful the kid would get the hint and stop playing hero. Like seriously he was a kid! Who's bright idea was it to let a kid fight these dangerous appearing ghosts?! Oh right the poor kids parents were incompetent when it came to ghost hunting and it wasn't like they could just up and do it without destroying the kids confidence. Plus the GIW were no help either.

Vlad becoming Mayor was not exactly their plan but they thought maybe they could use that as some help to convince Danny more that he didn't need to play hero for them just because he got powers now. That didn't turn out like they hoped and THAT plan was dismissed quickly. Especially when the GIW showed up. They learned their lesson sort of quickly after that, at least when it came to people from out of Amity did not mean well.

Lancer, at first when Danny first showed up as Phantom, had attempted to get into contact with the Justice League several times, so that Danny would actually get the professional help he needed and get some sleep at night as well as the time he needed for his schooling so that heroing wouldn't be the only career path he would be forced into. The additional point of getting the kid training too for his powers was also very tempting, there are only so many chemical breakers they could allow the him to break before they HAD to sort of ban him from touching them again.

But when the GIW appeared in their town they stopped trying to reach the Justice League. Suspecting that that was the answer they sent in regards to their SOS calls. Amity Parks protectiveness over their teenheroes that sacrificed to much skyrocketed. They started to sabotage the Agents subtitle. Always working within the limits of the orders and finding the loop holes.

"Oh but we did comply, not our fault that you guys tripped and let Phantom escape."

"Wupp, sorry I got that from the Fentons for self defence, but it looks like I need to work on my aim."

"I am so sorry, my car is stuck! See my tire is popped I can't get out of your vans way."

The fact that Amity Parks weather report was more a report on the ghosts, the Fenton parents and the GIW was all a tactic for them all to keep each other informed so they could execute any step to ensure their -by now- towns sweethearts safety. Even if they still tried to turn the poor kid away from being a hero with all the unnecessary mean comments and articles.

So when one day a hero from the Justice League showed up it was predictable that they all were suspicious of it. Even more so when that hero came with a bunch of teenage heroes. Apparently they were here to investigate a bunch of ignored calls one of the teenheroes found in their call logs. Some of the adults eyed Lancer who in turn was glaring at the heroes fessed up, he hadn't attempted to call them ever since they decided to sent the GIW into their town. Which apparently was more of a cover as these heroes showed an interest in the Fentons research of Ectoplasm pretty quickly.

Well now Batman and his flock of bats and birds were confronted with a very unhappy town that was apparently very protective of their hero and 'accidentally' continued to manage to block them from making contact with said teenhero. And who where these Guys in white suits that tried to suck it up to Batman? Better question why was the entire town suddenly hostile towards them when they started to look into the Fenton Family that had a connection to Lazarus Water?

Meanwhile Danny is confused by his towns newfound favouritism towards Batman and his entourage and how whenever he went to find out what was that about everyone seems to deflect. Even Sam, Tucker and Jazz were confused by what was going on!

[dcxdpdabbles]

DC X DP fic idea: Phantom's number 1 fan

Danny is used to his classmates cheering for him. Well, he's used to them cheering on his ghost side, but it's the same thing.

He's a small time celebrity in the eyes of Amity Park youth. Almost everyone as Casper High adores Phantom- even the A-listers.

Ironically enough, the A-listers are some of the few who claim to be in love with Phantom. Even Dash, after the quarter back publicly came out.

Almost all of them still pick on Danny, even now as seniors. He never quite fit in even after all these years. Still pushed into lockers, mocked by classmates and deemed the number one loser again and again.

He stopped trying to fit in years ago when he became a halfa and focused on being a hero. He's gotten better now, as ghosts are less likely to challenge him. Apparently, being able to beat Pariah Dark in single combat spooked many spirits.

He instead focuses on worldwide natural disasters. With the new power to create portals to the Ghost zone as a shortcut to any part of the world, he could jump to emergencies as simplyas walking through a door.

He took some field medic lessons from Frost Bite and was on his way.

He started with search and rescue during a Tsunami. Then earthquakes, tornadoes, and even lightning storms. His parents knew and were proud of him every time Phantom appear on TV. His friends encouraged him to pressure a medical career. Danny was seriously considering it.

No one besides those he loved knew he and Phantom were one in the same.

Life was good.

That is until one stormy night when Tim Drake came knocking. The other 17-year-old stood on his porch drenched to his socks, clutching a really well taken photot of Phantom and a manic glint in his eye.

"Can I have your autograph, Danny? Im your number one fan!"

Before Danny could even think of a response, Drake tilted forward, smacking face first on the ground.

If you were to ask Tim what was he thinking ge would say " I wasn't"

See, Tim had been one of the first Phantom rescued from the giant Tsunami that Riddler had unleashed on Gotham all those years ago. His heart had been the ghost ever since. And much like all other puzzles and mysteries, it didn't take Tim long to connect Phantom and Fenton.

Seeing as Danny Fenton wanted nothing to do with the Justice League or to join any other hero team he left him alone, admiring him from afar.

Then the mission Ra al Gul happened.

He had been running on fumes, and in Tim's sleep-deprived mind, the thought of stopping in Amity Park on the way back from a mission to ask for his long-time hero and crushes autograph was the perfect idea.

So he landed the batplane, switched in civilians and knocked on the door with his heart in his hand. And the three stab wounds on his back, his broken rib and black eye.

Thankfully Danny was willing to drag him inside for medical aid.

[fishfission-dc]

Batfamily Powerpoint Night! (Part 9: Barbara)

<<Part 8: Duke    |    Part 10: Alfred >>

[Masterlist]

Barbara: Alright, my turn!

Tim: Frankly I’m terrified for what’s about to happen

Dick: Oh Babs will be nice, don’t worry :)

Dick: I stand corrected

Steph: Oh god

Bruce: [sighs and puts his head in his hands]

Barbara: I organized it roughly from newest vigilantes to oldest, since more patrolling means more room for spectacular failures

Duke: It was a bad day for me

Jason: HA

Steph: Been there, done that. Not on TV though that really sucks man.

Steph: NOOOOOO

Tim: ONE SQUARED?

Steph: I GOT CONFUSED

Jason: [Hysterical laughter]

Damian: One multiplied by one?!

Steph: I THOUGHT IT MADE TWO I UNDERSTAND MY MISTAKE

Duke: From this mask view footage Batman is just watching this go down

Bruce: He said he didn’t want help. Felt like a teaching moment.

Damian: (muttering) I was fine.

Dick: Damian we were not going to drive you to 5th grade with a knife in your liver.

Steph: You’ve had this footage for four years?!

Barbara: I keep a file for blackmail. Cass doesn’t really have much, though.

Cass: (signing) I did learn the dance. Eventually.

Tim: WILL THIS TORMENT EVER END

Jason: YOU CRASHED THE BATMOBILE INTO A WALMART, TIMMY.

Steph: You deserve every joke we make about this

Damian: Your idiocy must be remembered

Dick: Yeah Tim this is pretty bad

Jason: Can I have that mask view footage

Barbara: I got ya

Tim: I hate it here

Jason: I really can’t defend this one

Dick: Why...? Did you shoot the trashcan?

Jason: I thought it was looking at me funny

Damian: The trashcan?

Jason: I was up for 52 hours give me a break.

Barbara: Do you want to tell them why you pulled two all-nighters in a row? Or should I?

Jason: You are an evil, evil woman. How do you even- nevermind. Of course you know everything, why do I even wonder. And for the record, the first night I stayed up for a case.

Barbara: And the second night was for Animal Crossing.

Jason: ...perhaps.

Duke: Oh my god.

Steph: And you laughed at me?

Bruce: (sighs)

Steph: Stop you were adorable in high school

Barbara: Thank you, but the braces? The acne? The bangs? 15 year old Barbara had no idea what she was doing.

Dick: I for one thought you were very cute in high school.

Jason: Stop flirting or I will leave

Bruce: Why were you both on a roof at night in your school uniforms?

Dick: I think let’s move on

Dick: Nevermind nevermind go back

Tim: Oh my god, Dick.

Duke: ”Purposely” ?!

Dick: I was nine

Damian: I knew better by age 9.

Bruce: Lessons were learned. I hope.

Jason: I’m starting to think I was one of the better Robins

Dick: I felt like I see sounds for three days...

Bruce: All traces of this were wiped from the internet.

Barbara: Oh Bruce, you know I’m better than that.

Dick: Hold on, hold on, we need an explanation.

Alfred: (as he walks by) A little too much to drink goes a long way...

Tim: YOU WERE DRUNK? ON PATROL?

Jason: No way. Even I haven’t been that stupid.

Duke: What did you buy at CVS

Bruce: ...apparently... I bought lollipops.

Steph: “Apparently” as in the next morning you didn’t remember putting on the Batsuit, going to CVS, buying lollipops, and talking to a guy with an audio recording device?

Bruce: ...yes.

Cass: (signing) Very bad. Very funny, but very bad.

Damian: Also an ineffective use of a smoke bomb if this civilian saw you walk away...

Bruce: Barbara, you have made your point.

<<Part 8: Duke    |    Part 10: Alfred >>

[Masterlist]

[targaryen-dynasty]

INNATE DESIRES. (1/5)

Maegor Targaryen x niece!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT — MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest, p in v, profanity, semi public sex, size kink, power imbalance, breeding, choking, female reader (no mentions of looks besides purple eyes)

WORDS: 3.4 K

NOTES: The events of this start somewhere between 41 AC to 44 AC, while the rest takes place around 45 AC. Visenya has not died (yet), but Cersye, Alys and Tyanna have. Aegon and Rhaena are captured at Crakehall, and Viserys is still his squire and hostage.

After the passing of your father, you, your younger siblings and mother had fled from Dragonstone to Driftmark almost immediately. It was a blessing and a curse altogether, because it meant you could keep your life after the arrival and coronation of your uncle Maegor, while you would have loved nothing more than to witness the sight of the Black Dread’s shadow devouring the castle on the eponymous island. 

When the Dowager Queen and Vhagar arrived, it was her that urged your mother to come back to join the busy life at court – meaning you and your siblings were to abandon her childhood home Driftmark. 

Your mother’s stay in the capital was brief, and you assumed it was because she could not stand to be separated from her children any longer, as Visenya had ordered you four to Dragonstone instead. 

Two years after your arrival, it was evident that you had become a prisoner in all but name to Visenya on Dragonstone, barely allowed to leave the castle. When she was not around, her spies and vipers were. 

And so it was even more surprising that, when you were summoned to the Throne Room in the midst of your lessons, you came face to face with none other than your uncle. He sat on the throne, his mother lingering not too far away. With him in the room, his big frame concealing most of the impressive seat, it was even more apparent how frail she had become over the years. If you would have to guess, she would not do much longer. 

As your purple eyes met his, it was as if a wildfire ignited in your body, coursing through your veins, vividly remembering the night you had caught him speaking to your father about a possible betrothal. But it also angered you, knowing that he had left for Pentos with his second wife not long after, without even saying goodbye. 

On the other side of the throne stood none other than your mother, and while both Visenya and Maegor seemed rather smug and pleased, Alyssa had a grim expression on her face. 

Like an invisible string luring your body towards his, you came to a stop shortly before the first step to where he sat. “Your Grace.“ You smiled sweetly at him and slightly bowed your head, more out of courtesy than true belief, because your brother Aegon was the rightful heir to the Iron Throne after all. 

At least five knights guarded the door to the Throne Room behind you, and when Maegor rose from his seat with the pommel of Blackfyre fidgeting between his thick fingers, you were certain that was the moment your life came to an end. 

His steps were heavy as he walked down the steps, coming to a stop just shy of you. His domineering frame was looming over yours, and you had long forgotten the last time you had to crane your neck to look up at someone as tall and big as he was. 

“Leave us,“ Maegor’s gruff voice rang out, and when both Dowager Queens opened their mouths to protest, he was quick to shush them with a simple raise of his hand. Even when they walked past you, you did not dare break eye contact with your uncle, and while he usually was a hard and brutal man, there was a hint of softness in his eyes solely reserved for you. 

When you two were the only people left in the room, he directed his voice towards you. “You have grown,“ he stated, his eyes traveling up and down your body. With the defiance of a young woman, you jutted out your chin just slightly, nonchalantly looking up at him. “How would you know?“ you asked. “Five years and you have not once come to visit me.“

Your uncle chuckled dryly, one hand coming up to pinch your chin. “You know ‘tis not as easy as you make it seem.“ 

From how much your father had told you after Maegor’s departure, you knew he probably was right, though you had yet to find out the true reason behind it. With his longing stare making you somewhat uneasy, the pregnant pause between you two grew thicker with tension.

Until your voice cut through it. 

“Why are you here, uncle? Do you not have a wife to care for and a realm to rule?“

“I do,“ he said, his tone growing a bit harsher as the memory of the stranger taking his three wives not too many moons ago flashed before his eyes. “I am here for you.“

A small crease formed between your brows at his words. “I am afraid I do not understand.“

“Maybe you will understand this.“ Where his paw had rested on your chin before, it traveled down to your waist, almost taking up its entirety with his fingers splayed out. 

He dipped his head towards yours, but you were quick to bring your hand up between your faces, taking a careful step back. “We can not,“ you stated, trying to sound stern, yet you were betrayed by your fluttering nerves, your heart beating in your throat.

With his hand still on your waist, he pulled you back against his firm chest as if you weighed nothing, the sheer display of his strength bringing heat to your cheeks. “The matter is settled already. I shall take you as my wife in a sennight,“ he said. “I have waited long enough for this, and with my brother dead there is no one left to deny me.“

“My mother–“ 

“Has no other choice than to give me what I want.“ The threat was unspoken but clear. 

Every attempt to speak against him was silenced by his lips on yours. The kiss was far from being gentle, and it was evident he claimed your lips with a carnal need. With his hands traveling over the curves of your waist down to your rear, roughly fisting the skirts of your gown, it was obvious that he intended to do the same with your body. 

Your heart was racing, pounding against the confines of your ribcage when your lips parted, releasing a shaky breath. “I-I have never–,” you whimpered, trailing off as you looked at him with wide eyes. Every ounce of affection and gentleness Maegor mayhaps held before had vanished with a snap, leaving only a man hungry for your virtue. 

But no matter how badly your body ached for his touch, having craved it for so, so long, you pulled away to walk past him, climbing the few steps towards the throne with shaky legs as a heat settled at the apex of them. You had to bring some space between the two of you, mayhaps that allowed your thoughts to clear again. 

”My brother Aegon–,“ you started, but were interrupted when you tripped over one of the last steps, causing you to topple forwards. Taking in a sharp breath while bracing yourself on your hands and knees, Maegor was quick to not allow you to get back on your feet. Kneeling down next to you with one hand resting in the place between your shoulders, he applied just enough pressure to keep you down. 

“Where is your craven brother now, sweetling?“ he emphasized the nickname with a condescending tone, and it should have you feeling sick to the stomach, not aroused. “Not here. He had the chance to claim the Iron Throne, but he did not take it.“

His hand brushed over the bodice of your dress, trailing deep enough so he could cup your arse. But it merely lingered there for a few seconds, never settling. That touch alone still was enough to reignite the flame within you, and only when your fluttered nerves calmed just a bit, you noticed the proximity between you – and how he looked at you with darkened eyes. 

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you tried to gather some courage before speaking, “You are just as much of a coward as he is. Coming to claim what is rightfully his when he is besieged at Crakehall.” Another chuckle came from Maegor, but this time it sounded somewhat amused. 

“Oh, I know you do not think so highly of your own kin,” he said, a smug smirk pulling on the corners of his chiseled lips. His other hand came up to cup your cheek gently, the pad of his thumb brushing your lips. 

“Enough with the mummer's farce, Y/N. Are you not at least a little happy to see me, mh?” It was evident in his mocking tone that he did not really care much about your feelings. You were meant to marry him regardless of what you wanted. 

With pleading eyes, you looked at him, slowly nodding your head and allowing your guard to fall – even if only for a few seconds. “Y-Yes.”

“And do you not want to be a good, obedient wife to me?”

If his question did not already choke the air from your lungs, his hand fisting the skirts of your dress to lift it just enough for his hand to snake underneath certainly did. It was him harshly groping the flesh of your arse that caused you to speak again, forcing you without voicing a command. 

“I do.”

As his fingers started to drag over the dampened spot in the center of your smallclothes, he got all the confirmation he needed to proceed with his actions. The ministrations of his fingers grew in determination, dragging around your little bud in circular motions and eliciting soft whimpers to fall past your lips. As the pleasure rippled through your body, your hands grabbed the edge of the step beneath you, knuckles blanching from the force. 

Shame filled your veins, and you couldn't bring yourself to look at him, instead focusing on the throne in front of you. “I–,” you wanted to repeat your previous words, but your uncle was quick to cut you off. “Then let me be the first and only. You belong to me.” 

Any protest was once again silenced by your own gasp as two of his thick digits pushed the linen of your smallclothes aside, scarcely dragging through your soaked mound. Only when they were generously coated in your arousal, he eventually pushed them inside without a warning. 

“Gods,” you whimpered, tears brimming in your eyes as your maiden hole tried to adjust to the girth of his fingers. “P-Please…” You did not know what you were begging for. For him to leave you be or for him to give you more?

Maegor seemed to be at least a bit mindful when it came to your maidenhead, keeping his fingers still until they were buried to the hilt. You clenched around him tightly, which caused him to hiss through gritted teeth as if it was his cock plunging deep inside you and not his fingers, hardly preparing you for what was to come. 

“Please,” Maegor mocked you with a chuckle, pushing his lips forwards into a pout that feigned his pity. “You are so pretty when you beg, niece.” The ministrations of his fingers were slow, pulling out almost completely only to push right in again. The sounds of pleasure they forced from your throat were enough to drive the man next to you close to insanity. 

His head dipped forward, looking you down with a sharp expression that savored the sight of your face contorting in pleasure all because of him. Your body was torn between feeling hungry for him and being humiliated because of him, the interplay leaving you utterly confused, and longing to be filled by something else of his. 

When he withdrew his fingers from your cunt, they were glistening with your arousal. The warmth that slowly spread throughout your stomach had vanished just like that, and the whine that slipped past your lips at the loss of friction was the epitome of being pathetic. 

He brought his fingers up to his mouth, engulfing them with his lips and humming as if he enjoyed the finest Arbor red the castle had to offer. You squeezed your thighs to soothe the aching that burned between them at the sight, feeling empty and not at all satisfied. “So, so sweet,” he purred, the tone a stark contrast from the harsh one he had used before. His chest rose and fell with each heavy breath he released in the following, the purple of his eyes almost eclipsed by black. 

Magor leaned in to nuzzle his nose along your cheek, taking a deep breath and inhaling the scent he had missed so dearly for the past five years. 

The softness of his voice and the close contact had you losing yourself in his dominating presence, completely at his mercy. A kiss was pressed to the crown of your head before his bulky frame disappeared behind you, one leg bent at the knee while the other foot was planted firmly on the ground. Because he was so close, you felt him undoing the laces of his breeches, his hands bumping against your arse each time he pulled the strings loose. 

Your impatience got the worst of you, masked as a shiver traveling up your spine. You were not sure if you had to accommodate a girth wider or lesser than his fingers, but at this point you did not care. Your body longed for something you hadn’t felt before, and it needed it. Now. 

One of his hands darted to your hip, squeezing it harshly while the other wrapped around his hard member. Feeling the impatience take over your body, you pushed your hips back enough for the tip of him to prod at your hole, causing your teeth to sink into your bottom lip. 

As you turned your head to look at him from over your shoulder, your hooded eyes met his, a lazy smirk draped over his features. “That is all it takes to change your mind?” he mocked, stifling a grunt as he forced himself into your tightness, your maiden walls squeezing him. “Pathetic.” All of the sudden, his raspy voice was strained, having to restrain himself from pounding into you before he even filled you to the brim. You could see it in the way he set his jaw, forcing you to avert your eyes in fear.

You released a mixture of a whine and a shaky breath, the burning of the stretch prominent enough to cloud your mind and set your body on full alert. With both his paws on your hips, you could not even intervene or squirm away. Every ridge and vein of his cock dragged along your clenching walls as you accommodated the sheer size of his member, not making the stretch any more pleasurable. 

“S-Stop,” you whimpered. 

And Maegor actually listened, but only because he had bottomed out completely and needed a few moments to regain his composure, adapting to you squeezing him like a vice. “It will become more pleasant soon,” he grunted, trailing his hands up and down your sides in a comforting manner you did not know he possessed. “Trust me.”

The first snaps of his hips were neither hard nor fast, but deep and determined enough to brush that sweet spot inside of you your own fingers had not reached before. Having his breeches pulled down enough to free his cock and the sac of his stones, they slapped against your sensitive bud each time his hips met yours. 

With that pace, the burning slowly but surely turned into the pleasure your body had been asking for. 

Looking back at him once again, you were blessed with something you hadn’t seen before. A few strands of his usually neat, silver hair hung in front of his face, every now and then clinging to the few beads of sweat on his forehead before the tremors of his thrusts freed them again.

He felt you adjusting to his size, which prompted him to increase the pace to the point he was pounding you. Each impact forced your head to tip forwards and your knees to scrape across the stone floor, barely diminished by the skirt of your dress. 

Something you hadn’t anticipated was him bringing his hand in front of you to clasp around your throat. With the strength he possessed, his grip was tight, choking you regardless of him intending to do so or not.  

“I want you to look at the throne,” he commanded through gritted teeth, the choking and gasping sounds you made merely a dull noise in the background. “‘Tis the seat our son will sit in one day.”

His other arm snaked around your waist as he pulled your back flush against his firm chest, securing you and keeping you steady despite the reckless snaps of his hips. Mayhaps it was the possibility and danger of the Dowager Queens barging into the Throne Room or because you finally got what you had craved for more than five years, but your peak built in the pit of your stomach far too quickly for your own liking. 

“I am going to fuck you so full of my seed, making sure it will bear fruit.”

Maegor shifted his hips, angling them so he was thrusting upwards into you, which had his cock reaching even deeper than before, causing you to mewl and whine. Even if you wanted to, you could not reply, but with a renewed wave of your arousal dripping down his throbbing member and stones, you did not even have to.

“I-I–,” you stammered, his grip not loosening. It was a surprise you managed to inhale enough air to fill your lungs – mayhaps he was better at assessing his strength than you thought. 

“Go on,” he rasped, squeezing your throat in a rhythm that matched his hips, sensing your impending peak. 

It was embarrassing how quickly your peak took over at his words, rippling through you with soaring pleasure. Each time his stones hit your little bud, your overstimulated body tried to jerk away from him – but to no avail with his strong arm around your waist. 

Maegor watched in awe as your body trembled within his grasp, the tremors growing more apparent with each second he did not pull out. His mouth pressed to the side of your face, tongue licking a flat stripe from your jaw up to your temple. 

“You want my seed, niece?” he grunted into your ear, “want me to fuck a child into you? See your body swell with my seed?”

Finally loosening the grip he had on your throat to allow you to speak, you croaked a ‘seven hells, yes!’ into the chilly air of the Throne Room. “Put a babe in me… please,” you all but begged, turning your head to the side to catch a glimpse of him – enough to capture his lips with your own. 

The response of your body his and your own words elicited was pitiful, but it was just the truth. You wanted his child, the thought lingering in your mind for the past five years. Your walls trembled around him, choking him so tightly the bull of a man behind you had to take a deep breath to keep his composure. But all effort was fruitless when his pulsing cock spent itself inside of your quivering walls. 

Each of his grunts and groans was devoured by your lips on his, drinking them down as if they were the only things keeping you alive. Out of instinct, you started to roll your hips against his, prolonging his own peak as you milked him for every drop of his seed. 

Maegor was out of breath by the time his movements came to a stop, staying buried inside of you as if he meant to make sure his efforts bore fruit. And you relished in it, despite the vulnerable position it brought you in.

Tipping his forehead against your temple, he closed his purple eyes, breathing shakily before speaking, “merely pack the bare essentials for the travel. We shall depart for King’s Landing in the morrow… on dragon back."

Bowing your head once, you fixed your undergarments and dress once he had pulled out, sitting back on your haunches. With your back facing him, he did not notice the wide grin on your lips. 

Mayhaps then you finally were to witness the sight of Balerion’s shadow devouring Westeros' capital.

Maegor Taglist: @hypocritic-trash-baby @watercolorskyy @xxxkat3xxx @baedebnam @simonedk @heavenhatesme

[stars4gojo]

Sweet Nothing

Gojo x Fem!reader // Gojo and reader being Megumi’s parents lol  // fluff // 1k words

Itadori and Nobara already feel like Megumi hides too much so how will they react if they see him with a woman that seems way too old for the 16 year old.

(not proofread rn I’ll edit it later - ignore any silly mistakes)

Taylor swift sweet nothing🤍

Some of my other work - Masterlist

When Megumi told Nobara he was too busy to accompany her and itadori during her weekly shopping free - she did NOT expect to see Megumi laughing and buying coffee with a woman that was definitely way older. 

“Hey Kugisaki!” Itadori spoke suddenly as Nobara went ahead of him. 

“Is that fushiguro with a woman?” He questioned as his mouth fell agape.

“Huh? What are you talking about? You sure you’re not seeing things?” Nobara spoke as she dismissed him with the wave of her hand.

“No really I’m not lying!” He spoke again stopping in his tracks as Nobara made her way towards him to get him to shut up so she could continue shopping.

As Nobara turned towards the direction Itadori was still looking at in shock - she expected to see a guy that looks nothing like Megumi and was ready to snap at itadori for interrupting her, but she was in much more shock when she saw Megumi but worse with a woman who very obviously had a ring around her finger, a huge one at that.

“No way…” She spoke.

“That Fushiguro…She literally has a ring on her finger, I’m going to go teach him a lesson. Hold this!” Nobara added as she shoved her coffee into Itadori. 

“Hey hey hey! Don’t you want to do this more carefully I mean we don’t even know if they really are in some sort of relationship like that.” Itadori replied as he tried to hold Nobara back.

Nobara was about to reply but was cut off with the voice of someone awfully familiar.

“Hmm what are we looking at?” Itadori and Nobara jumped at the same time at the voice of their teacher, Gojo.

“Oh Goj-“ Itadori started but was soon cut off by Nobara.

“That Fushiguro is hanging out with some married woman and I’m about to beat his ass for breaking up a marriage.” Nobara spoke with her hands folded around her chest in confidence.

“What are you doing here anyways?” itadori asked clearly ignoring Nobara. 

“Well I’m about to meet my wife.” Gojo replied with a slight chuckle as he watched his two student’s mouths fall.

Nobara and Itadori turned towards Megumi and his mystery woman and to Gojo again and then the realisation hit.

“Oh.” Nobara and Itadori said at the same time.

“Huhhhh!!?!?” Nobara started

“Since when are you married?!??” Itadori added while looking like his whole life was a lie.

“You don’t even wear a ring???” Nobara questioned.

“Well if I wear such an expensive ring while fighting I would very obviously lose it and it’s too precious for that.” Gojo spoke proudly - putting emphasis on the words expensive and precious. 

“Seems like Megumi already met up with her, you guys wanna go and meet her?” 

“Yeah!” Nobara and itadori shouted excitedly as they made their way towards you and Megumi.  

You were quite surprised when you saw two children Megumi’s age run towards you both but everything made sense as you saw your husband trailing behind them, hands in his pocket and his usual blindfold replaced with his glasses.

You smiled as he waved at you but you couldn’t ignore the frown that was becoming more apparent on Megumi’s face.

“Those your friends Megumi?” You asked as you suppressed a giggle at his annoyance. 

“They’re NOT my friends.” He replied fast as he grabbed your arm so you both could go the other direction and you swear you saw his eyebrow twitch. 

“Hey Fushiguro!” Itadori spoke excitedly as he wrapped his arms around Megumi as he swatted them away. 

“And hey to you too!” Itadori spoke looking at you, unaffected by Megumi’s actions. 

“My name is Nobara Kugisaki and this is Itadori Yuuji!” Nobara spoke this time as an attempt to stop itadori from embarrassing her more. 

“Ahh hi! So you’re Megumi’s friends, I’m y/n and I’m Sato- well, your teachers wife.” You spoke as you shyly waved at them.

“We can just ignore them.” Megumi spoke nonchalantly as he turned on his heels once again trying to go the other and you frowned at his actions.

“Megumi you embarrassed of us or something” it was Gojo who spoke this time and Megumi felt as if all of his peace was now really destroyed.

“Hi there.” Gojo said softly as he went to kiss your head, “seems like you didn’t tell Megumi I was gonna be joining you two today.” Gojo added.

You turned towards Megumi with wide eyes as you rubbed the back of your neck, “did I really not tell you” you questioned awkwardly.

“No, you did not.” Megumi spoke as his last bit of patience ran out. 

“So Gojo you can just leave and you two can leave too.” Megumi added as he pointed to the others with his finger.  

“What! That’s literally my wife you cannot control me!” Gojo replied childishly as he leaned down to Megumi. 

“Oh cmon Fushiguro! It’ll be fun!” Itadori added only to get a smack on the head in return by Megumi.

“No one is inviting you in the first place anyways.” Megumi spoke with a frown.

And as you watched the entire scene unfold infront of you, Nobara made her way towards you.

“You sure you’re not being held hostage by those two?” She asked with genuine curiosity.

“Oh cmon” you said as you laughed. 

“I wouldn’t trade them for the world.” You added as light giggles escaped your mouth. 

“Nobara was it? Leave those two to solve it on their let’s go to that cafe over there.” You said while interlocking your arms with her walking towards the cafe. 

“Satoru’s treat of course!” You added with a wink. 

The two boys and your man child of a husband immediately stopped their little fight as they watched you two walk away.

“How are they friends already…?” Megumi questioned in surprise.

“Hey kugisaki don’t leave without your bags!!” Itadori called out as he started running towards her.

“Dont go ahead without me.” Megumi shouted out as he chased after Itadori.

Gojo slightly chuckled to himself as he put his hands back in his pockets slowly making his way towards the cafe as well. 

[katakaluptastrophy]

Can we talk about Magnus in Harrow the Ninth? Because there's a tendency to paint him as this constantly cheerful figure and he's not - he's just very Fifth.

He's the only person who seems even slightly upset about the whole gun-toting horror thing:

“Did the Sleeper get them?”

“Only by assumption,” said Harrowhark, while Abigail’s dolt of a husband said, “I bloody hope so.”

“Magnus,” Abigail said, a touch disapprovingly.

“Well, if the Sleeper didn’t, that’s two maniacs with an ancient weapon and a love of blowing off faces, dear,” said Magnus.

And he's got a very low opinion of Silas:

"She won’t tell me what he said to her, just that he ‘was horrid.’”

“Cheeky little so-and-so,” said Magnus. “If he were my son, I’d give him something to think about. I’m not surprised he’s gone to ground.”

“I would hope your son might be of different character,” said his wife, half-smiling.

“Protesilaus should have biffed him.”

“It’s strange,” said Abigail, ignoring her husband’s exhortations to biffing.

Behind the jolly Jeeves and Wooster-esque talk of biffing people, let's remember that this is Magnus - who from Gideon's POV never saw a teenager he didn't want to adopt - earnestly wishing that a grown man had hit a 16 year old kid.

And when Harrow explains that she thinks she saw him jump to his death, Magnus isn't particularly sympathetic:

“We should have made him a greater priority,” said Lady Pent.

Magnus said, “I’m not certain.”

and

“We didn’t need him,” he said bracingly.

Abigail said, “We need everyone.”

“I never thought he was quite the thing.”

This "never quite the thing" line is the same one Abigail uses when she says Ianthe shouldn't have become a Lyctor and you get the sense it has a quite specific meaning on the Fifth. You get the distinct feeling Magnus is saying "good riddance" in response to a teenager's apparent suicide.

And then of course there's Magnus' conversation with Harrow as the River bubble collapses, as Harrow debates whether she should leave her body to Gideon:

She said: “If I go back, it will finally destroy her soul.”

It was Magnus who stepped forward and looked at Harrow face-to-face. And perhaps she felt that more keenly: that he was the man who had, in Gideon’s own words a lifetime ago, been nice to her cavalier. His mouth was hard now, but his eyes were as kind as they had ever been. And kindness was a knife.

He doesn't pull any punches in laying out his understanding of the situation to Harrow:

“This whole thing happened because you wouldn’t face up to Gideon dying,” he said, which was a stab as precise as any Nonius had managed. “I don’t blame you. But where would you be, right now, if you’d said: She is dead? You’re keeping her things like a lover keeping old notes, but with her death, the stuff that made her Gideon was destroyed. That’s how Lyctorhood works, isn’t it? She died. She can’t come back, even if you keep her stuffed away in a drawer you can’t look at. You’re not waiting for her resurrection; you’ve made yourself her mausoleum.”

His wife looked at Harrow’s face and murmured, “Magnus, you’ve made your point,” but he uncharacteristically ignored her.

He's trying to get through to her in a very fraught situation, but he's certainly not pulling his punches:

“You’re a smart girl, Harrowhark. You might turn some of that brain to the toughest lesson: that of grief.”

Abigail is also trying to talk her out of things, but she's much more discursive and apologetic. Magnus is kind, but it's kindness as a knife, not a cushion.

Magnus is so often written off as just a silly, goofy character, when he's more complicated than that. He's allowed to have a very real frustration with the River bubble and with Harrow, however much he does also care for her and want to help her.

And you know what, he's a CFO stuck in a horrorscape with his delighted ghost nerd wife and a bunch of soldiers. He runs with it - he cracks one of his House ordinal jokes while physically tackling a gun-toting ghost and makes a decent go at it before getting shot. But he's very much out of his comfort zone, angry, and no longer entirely held back by propriety.