#Was she already tearing down my art? When I was three?

[palominocorn]

NOTE: The RBY paletee is still basically defunct as the influence of digital art and home printing make CMYK almost universal anyway. Which is nice, because as a kid CMYK was used in exactly 2 places: prepping books/magazines for print, and stage lighting.

It's a vastly better system than RBY in almost all cases, excpet when you want to do a canvas painting with Older Pigment Paints, not even the contemporary stuff. It's popular now mostly for its undeniable historical and restoration value. Can't restore an RBY painting using CMYK colour theory, you'll ruin it.

Also, I'm posting this partially for educational and partially leftist reasons, but also, partially, to tell this story again.

My sibling and I are at a family friend's. The friend and I are talking color: LEDs, the difficulty in making orange look right on many screens, magenta as not corresponding to a wavelength, and so forth.

I don't remember how it came up exactly, but I bring up the thing about RGB being opposites of CMY. (In computer terms.)

My sibling gets very, very quiet for several minutes. Then, our of nowhere, after the friend and I had moved on to talking about... cats? Knitting? Childrearing practices? My sibling shoves their phone in my face and screams "SEE, YOU'RE WRONG, RED AND GREEN ARE OPPOSITES!"

(They had a six section color wheel up on their screen.)

It was such a bizarre and needlessly hostile interaction that to this day I'm like ??? What are you trying to prove here exactly?

[babygirl-riley]

Growing Pains

this art work belongs to my all time favorite CoD fan artist. @ave661

Simon holds his baby thinking about when you announced that you were pregnant.

Warnings: fluff, smut, swearing, dad!simon

simon x reader guide

simon x reader family edition

Simon held onto his baby girl as she slept on his chest. She wore his favorite pants she has, skulls littering all over the grey of the shorts and just a simple shirt. Socks covering her feet so she didn’t get cold. He patted her back and rubbing up and down.

Never did he think that he would have a child. Let alone a baby girl. Simon thought about how he wouldn’t be the best dad and was afraid to be one. When meeting you that was the first conversation you both had.

“No kids.” He mumbled sipping his tea as you flipped a pancake.

“No kids,” You repeated. “Then you buy plan Bs since you don’t like condom nor pulling out.”

Simon chuckled at that. You were right he hated both. He loved to feel you gummy walls as the tightened around his cock. And he loved the thought of his cum coating your walls. “Fine.” He said softly standing up to walk to you and kiss your neck.

Five years later the topic was brought up. This time it wasn’t cause of not having one. “Simon,” You whispered through the phone. He knew this voice. Something happened. Something not good. He was gone on an assignment for three months. You have been wanting to mention to him about the forming bump before he got home. This time you had to. You couldn’t have him come home to that. “I’m pregnant.”

Simon thought he heard wrong. He had to. There isn’t anyway. “You sure?”

You sighed tears rolling down your face. Sob coming out. That’s when it hit him. It was true. You sobbed telling him you are terrified and didn’t know what to say. Simon stayed silent. He didn’t know what to do or say either. After a couple of minutes and you stopped talking. His heart was ripping he wanted to comfort you yet he was fucking terrified. “How far along?”

“3 months.”

Simon wanted to laugh. Of fucking course. This had to be a joke. You knew his thoughts about having kids. His thoughts would go back to his dad and what he would think about if he was a dad. Turn like his own. “‘Ight,” He sighed rubbing his painted eyes with his glove. “It’s gonna be fine.”

Price knew something was up with Simon when he was trying to take his time to go home. Usually he would be the first out. “Ya still here?” Price asked walking to him. Simon just nodded. “You and the Misses fight?”

Simon sighed shaking his head. “She pregnant.”

Price was taken a back. “Pregnant?”

Simon sighed once more. “I don’t know what to do.”

Price chuckled actually chuckled and loud. Price rubbed his chin taking out a cigar. “That’s what I said too Simon.” Both Simon and Price sat against Simon’s truck talking about pregnancy and what Price’s wife went through. What to expect. Especially not to be scared. Price explained that you were already terrified. Especially since this wasn’t planned.

When he walked through the door, it was dark and quiet. You were in bed, he did take long of coming home. When he took off his boots and clothes, showered before crawling into bed. Watching your body rise and fall from your sleep. When he started to wrap his arm around you, he felt it. The bump. The form. The child. He rubbed your stomach. “Alright kiddo. You win.” He whispered, pulling you closer.

The next day you woke up last (per usual). You noticed that it was recently warm, knowing that he just got out. You saw a distant light illuminating the hallway. You got out putting on your favorite robe, that kept you warm. Noting that it started to shrink. :(

When you reached the kitchen, he was in the back balcony. Mug in hand. Watching the sun come over the hills. You stepped out, having him turn to you, he moved his hand to grab yours and kissed its palm, before placing on your stomach. “‘M scared.” He whispered.

You put your hand over his and nodded. “I am too.”

Simon was silent looking at your belly. “What if I…” You placed your finger against his lips and walked around to straddle his hips.

“I’m going to stop you right there, I could tell you many ways how you are not your father,” You explained, he looked up at your face you massaged the back of his scalp. He sighed into it. “You might be tough skinned but you also have the biggest heart Simon.”

Simon sat there watching your smile, your eyes full of adoration. He smiled and placed a hand on your cheek. You leaned into it closing your eyes, feeling his warmth radiating. “I love ya so much.” He mumbled kissing you on the lips.

The next couple of months it was amazing. Simon would hold you, help out with putting on shoes when your feet would disappear. Rubbed your belly and hummed to the baby. He would kiss your stomach. He even lifted your tummy so you could have some relief. Soon enough Simon was coming more and more on terms with having a baby. With you. Having a mini both of you running around.

When she was born he was late, he was just landing as he sprinted to his truck. Soap pattering along with. As Soap drove Simon was on the phone with your mom who was informing him of the early birth. Saying you were alright just the baby was ready to be born. Simon was worried that he wouldn’t make it in time as Soap drove through the streets in high speeds.

Simon was throwing his gear off as much as possible. At least look decently alright, he would mess with his blond locks as he sprinted inside the hospital. Nurses guided him to the room that he heard painful screams. When he walked through, you were pushing already. “Si.” You whispered reaching for him.

Simon ran to your aid, holding your hand as the doctor would encourage you to push. Simon kissed your forehead with the breaks as you leaned into him. “You’re late.” You joke smiling at him. He smiled and brushed your sweaty hair out of your face. Before he could make a joke to you the doctor ask for one more push.

Simon thought you were beautiful, sweat and all. Most of all he felt terrible about the pain you were enduring. After one last squeeze of your hand and loud scream. A loud wail came from the bottom of you. You laid back in relief as you panted for some air. Simon was frozen as they moved his little girl over to clean her up.

You watched them then turned to Simon. “Go see her.” You whispered drawing circles into his hand. He looked down at you and immediately you knew he was scared yet excited. “It’s okay.”

Simon nodded once and walked over to his bay girl. The nurses moved over (even though they didn’t need to since he towered over them.) He watched as her face would change into scrunching then not. She started to whimper instead of crying. The doctor looked up at Simon and smiled. “You ready dad?”

Simon nodded once as they passed the bundle of blanket over. She was tiny in his arms. The doctor explained where to hold and placements. You watched as you teared up, watching your boyfriend of all people being told how to hold a baby. Your baby. His baby. Simon looked up at you, tears brimming in his eyes as he walked to you carefully.

You reached out for both you and the baby. “Ya did good lovie,” he whispered into your hair as he gently placed the baby against your chest. “I love you.”

You looked over at him as you smiled, tears falling down. “We did baby, I love you so much.”

Simon held onto her tighter as he remembered that day. The day he felt so many emotion for one little thing. She cooed and was chewing on her hand, Simon kissed her forehead as she cooed. “How you changed everythin’. Ya know?” He whispered picking her up to view her face.

She giggle as she reached for his face. Simon smiled as kissed her nose, she wiggled her head and laughed. Simon brought her closer smiling, she grabbed his face, as their forehead together. “I love you.” He said smiling as she grabbed the back of his hair.

He slowly pulled her hand out of his hair. You stood in the hallway watching as he laid her down on her tummy to teach her crawling. Your heart swelled watching quietly when he had his moments like that. All that mattered is that he became better than his own father.

[schrodingerscougar]

Hold it together (Simon Riley x reader)

Note: This takes place seven years after the second part. Warning: death.

It had only been three weeks since the funeral. The girls were still closed up like clams, shutting Simon out completely despite their young age. Lucy was seven, Nora was five, and he couldn't believe that they had to experience the death of their mother this soon. He was lost as well, having no idea how to deal with losing you.

While at the beginning he pushed you away, believing he didn't deserve the love you were trying to give him, later you became his other half, his partner in crime, the most caring and nicest lover he ever had. He would have never imagined he would once have someone like you in his life. And now? You were gone for good because of that goddamn accident.

Johnny loved the girls and whenever he was around, he had offered to look out for them while the two of you went out on a date. Now he was trying to lighten the mood, coming up with ideas for fun activities, but Simon saw it in his daughters that they weren't excited about them.

While he was waiting for his broken ribs to heal, the sergeant stayed with them to make life easier. One night Simon tucked in the girls and his heart ached when he saw the youngest getting ready to sleep with a photo of you on the edge of her bed.

“You miss mommy?” he asked as he swept a strand of hair out of her beautiful little face.

Nora was sniffling quietly as she nodded.

He loved both his daughters equally, but the balance was perfect. Lucy was a lot like him, a real tomboy who had been wanting to try martial arts ever since they watched the original The Karate Kid movie. She had been handling your death surprisingly well, maybe that's because her personality was a lot like his.

But this young lady was your carbon copy in and out. Seeing her missing you so much proved your strong connection, the one he would never be able to build with her. He had never seen anything like it, and this made it hard for him to console her if she was upset. She had always ran to you for support, but now she was sad because you were gone.

Simon pulled the girl against his chest, his eyes falling on his other daughter who was watching them from her own bed. He could see her eyes shining from the tears, but she held herself together. “It's okay, babygirl,” he whispered to Nora as he rubbed her back. “I miss her too, you know. And I'm sure Lucy misses her as well. But we're strong, aren't we?”

She mumbled something in agreement then pulled away to bury herself under the thick blanket. “Goodnight, Daddy.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He kissed her forehead then stood up and went over to Lucy, leaning down to give her a goodnight kiss too. “Sleep well, big girl.”

When he turned to the door, Johnny was already waiting for him, leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded over his chest. There was a look of understanding in his blue eyes, and he put a hand on Simon's shoulder when they reached the bottom of the stairs.

“They're kids, they'll adapt and move on. Maybe not soon, but eventually they will,” he tried to assure him. “I'm not so sure about you, though. I woke up to you coming down the stairs last night. I swear you're moving around this place like a real ghost.”

With a sigh, Simon walked around the Scotsman and threw himself on the couch. “Her parents want custody,” he told him, finally giving him an insight into what was truly bothering him. “They're willing to drag me to court. I'm not suitable to be a single parent because of my job, they say.”

Johnny sat on the armchair next to him and rested his elbows on his thighs as he leaned closer. “Bullshit. Price would help you get an early retirement if you asked,” he said, looking way more upset than Simon.

“Who knows, maybe staying with them would be better for the girls.”

“Don’t say this. You need to fight for them. They need their father,” Johnny added.

This broke Simon. He couldn't hold back the tears anymore, the tears he had been fighting ever since that night. His friend being by his side helped him keep it together, but they never talked about what exactly he went through because he always said he couldn't remember.

But he remembered lying in the ambulance, asking about you, begging for crumbs to find out what happened to you, if you were also on your way to the hospital, but they didn't tell him anything. “I’m sorry, we don't know,” one of them said.

“Talk to me, Simon,” Johnny quietly said once he sat down next to him on the other side of the couch. “You need to get this out of your system or you'll go crazy.”

Still fighting his tears, the lieutenant took a deep breath and finally began to talk. “She was unconscious. I–I remember looking over at her in the wreck but she wasn't moving, wasn't responding to my questions. They later said I had a concussion so probably that's why some time fell out of my memory. I don't remember how I ended up in the ambulance.

They didn't tell me anything. In the hospital I got out of the bed and went to look for someone who could finally tell me what the fuck happened, but I bumped into a doctor who was talking to a police officer. That's when I found out she was dead by the time help arrived,” he finished with a shaking voice.

Johnny leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. “Did you have the chance to say goodbye?”

“I might have threatened someone to be allowed to go to the morgue. Her body was bruised, scarred, and bloody. Not how I want to remember her. But yes, I could say goodbye.”

“You need to fight, Simon. For her. She wouldn't want her parents to take the girls away from you,” the sergeant told him firmly as he reassuringly put a hand on his shoulder.

Just when he was about to answer, tell him he felt like it was a battle he was sure to lose, they heard light footsteps coming from the door. It was Lucy who walked over to them, sitting next to his father and resting her head on his arm.

“Do Grandma and Grandpa really want to take us away?” she asked hesitantly as she glanced up at her father. Simon nodded. “I don't want to go. I want to stay with you, Dad,” Lucy said, already sobbing.

Simon let out a sigh before wrapping an arm around her small body and placing a soft kiss on the crown of her head. “I don't want you to leave either, trust me. I'll do everything I can to stop them, okay?”

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise.”

[ariaxmu]

angel.

tom riddle x reader

summary: you get sick, tom freaks out and then you realize his feelings for you :3. i have kind of gotten rid of the element of evil with tom here, he is blunt and a little quiet but is sweet. oh and he calls you angel.

warnings: little kisses, flirting, tension.

walking into potions, i try to act as if i am fine. except my disheveled appearance might give that away. my head throbbing in pain, my throat dry, sore and voice croaky, nose sniffly. i feel so, so warm. it's rare i get sick, so when i do it hits me hard. but i cannot miss these classes, exams coming around quickly and i can't afford to miss out.

i sit down next to my potions partner and one of my best friends, tom, smiling softly at him as i do. ''hi tom'' i croak out a whisper, coughing a little to cover up the loss of voice i'm working with.

he furrows his eyebrows, ''hey angel, you look sick. are you sick?'' he asks.

''uh- a little, yeah. but i'm okay'' i say softly, opening up my books.

''why did you come to class? you should have told me you were sick.'' he sighs, seemingly a little frustrated. i frown.

''sorry- i can move seats today if you're worried i'll get you sick-''

''don't be ridiculous. i meant it as i could have taken care of you'' he mutters, side eyeing our friends behind us to make sure they didn't hear him.

''i won't burden you with that. besides, i am fine. and i cannot afford to miss out on any classes. especially this one.'' i mumble, feeling a tickly creep up in my throat as i start up on my little coughing fit.

''miss y/l/n? are you feeling well?'' i hear professor slughorn call out to me as he walks into class. i groan internally.

''i'm okay, professo-'' cough, cough, cough.

''oh miss y/l/n, please do go see madam pomfrey. she will have potions which will clear that up within the hour.'' he nods his head. ''besides, we don't need the entire class getting sick do we?'' he says kindly enough, and his concern was genuine, but i could have thrown my book at him.

''okay, sir'' i sigh, sad. i'm already failing this class, this is the worst thing that would have happened.

''don't worry angel, just go get some rest.'' tom says, brushing a piece of my hair away from my sweaty forehead. i pout, grabbing my books as i stand up to leave the classroom. i sulk to myself as i make my way to madam pomfrey. not only am i missing the class, but as i higher year potions is now a double class, meaning it lasts for three. hours. and that is the only class i have where i get to sit close to tom for that amount of time.

i've been close friends with tom for a good few years now, us getting a lot closer over the years. everybody says, 'it's so obvious how crazy you are about each other!', but i strongly believe it is only obvious that i am crazy about him.

the feelings started to grow the more we grew. he's always been slightly more kind to me than he is to others. he's strict with me, sure, a little over protective. but i'm sure he just sees me as a sister more than anything else. as much as it hurts.

madam pomfrey gives me around three potions, she told me they would make me feel drowsy so it's best to take a nap and when i wake up i should feel a little better. as long as the headache is better, i'll be happy. so i head up to my dorm for a much needed nap.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧

i yawn opening my eyes, rolling over to check the clock. 6pm? i widen my eyes, body shooting up out of bed. i slept all. day?!

so not only did i miss potions, i would have also missed herbology, defense against the dark arts AND transfiguration? i feel tears prick at my eyes, feeling frustrated with myself for not waking up to the alarm i had set. wiping my tears away, annoyed with myself, i at least should go and eat some dinner, and i do feel a lot better.

i get re- dressed, brushing my hair and putting a little makeup on so i don't look completely like a zombie, i head down to the great hall for dinner.

''there she is, sleeping beauty'' pansy grins, as i rush to sit down beside them.

''i'm so annoyed with myself, i slept through my alarm and missed all four of my double classes today. i am screwed.'' i sigh, eyes a little watery from just pure stress and frustration.

''well it appears lover boy has a little surprise for you'' pansy smirks, nodding her head at tom, who is glaring at her from the nickname.

i glance over at him, and he's holding a bunch of books and papers. i furrow my eyebrows, ''what is that?''.

''well when you left potions i took notes for you about well, everything we went over in the class. and then i came to check on you, and you were still asleep, so i just took notes for every class on everything we went over today.'' he says gently, a little red glowing on his cheeks as everybody watches with cheeky grins.

''oh- tom, you didn't have to do all of that. it must've taken so long'' i say, heart swelling with love as i stare at him.

''eh, didn't take that long.'' he shrugs, passing my the notes as he scoots a little closer to me.

''except he kept asking the professors to repeat everything so he could make sure he got it right, and he even highlighted the key words because he knows you read it easier that way, an-''

''okay, enough'' tom snaps at her, groaning, before turning to me. ''but if you need any help, i can help you''.

''thank you tom'' i say nervously, smiling with a soft blush.

pansy smirks at me, mouthing 'he likes you!' with a grin. okay, i can see why she thinks this. but... he could be doing this for me as a good friend too, right? i certainly would do this for one of my friends, leaving me stumped.

''eat this, it'll help you feel even better, especially with the three potions you had.'' tom mumbles, passing me some food over.

''w- how do you know i had three?'' i furrow my eyebrows.

''i went to madam pomfrey to see if she gave you the right stuff, and if it was safe to take them.'' he shrugs, so nonchalantly as he munches on his food.

my god. i'm utterly in love.

''i'm going to the bathroom. i'll be back in a second, angel'' he says to me, standing up and walking out.

i watch him wide eyed as he leaves, my love growing even more than it was before, which i didn't deem possible. i glance at pansy,

''you need to make a move on him, i swear. he won't tell you how he feels because he is too stubborn. he will just keep doing cute things and flirting with you until you lose your mind.'' she says quickly. i nod at her, taking a bite of my food waiting for him to come back. i brainstorm for a moment, thinking of how to get us sneakily in a romantic situation so i can tell him how i feel.

he comes back, sitting directly beside me again. i turn my head over to him, smiling softly. ''uhm, tom?'' i whisper, so nobody else can hear me.

''yes, angel?'' he says, sipping some of his water.

''do you- um, do you want to help me study these notes tonight?'' i say softly.

''of course. we were all planning on going to the library after dinner, anyway''. he nods.

i hum, ''i was thinking more.. just us two? i know you're on prefect duties tonight so... maybe we could go there when everybody else is in bed?'' i say, cheeks bright pink.

''oh.'' he says, looking at me a little shocked, he must realize i'm essentially asking him on a study date. nerves fuel my entire body as this answer kind of entails whether he maybe likes me back or not.

he tilts his head to the side, ''you're asking me to break the rules?'' with a small smirk. heat floods my face, i stutter a little, not knowing what to say. ''you're cute. i'll meet you there at 10.'' he says bluntly as i nod, fiddling with my fingers.

''okay. awesome, cool, okay,'' i nod, trying to calm myself down as i continue to eat. if that part made me so nervous, how on earth am i going to tell him how i feel, or to make a move? i gulp down my food, trying to calm myself down more.

he smirks at me once more, ''i'll see u later, angel'' he says, before standing up and leaving the great hall.

im screwed.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧

“cmon, we’ve almost finished all of the notes. you can finish these last few.” he says softly as i begin to yawn.

“fine” i breathe out, very sleepily but happy to be here with him. it’s now around midnight, and we’re tucked away into a cosy corner of the library, him helping me study.

somehow over the last two hours he has made his way suuuper close to me, his chair practically pressed against mine, his thigh rubbing the side of mine. very close.

it feels, romantic. i know what we are doing isn’t, but being here with him just feels like perfection. the moonlight shining in on his face, he’s letting his guard down more and more. smiling more, able to laugh and have flirty teasing with me. i just adore it.

“so you missed only a couple things today in herbology- you are amazing at this so, i only jotted down things i didn’t think you knew. did you know-” he mutters along, but stops talking when the notices my gaze on him. “what?” he says, cheeks flushed.

“o-oh! nothing” i gulp.

“you were staring?” he says, smirking a tiny bit.

“no i wasn’t.”

“oh yes you were, angel.” he says, leaning back on his chair, hands resting on his stomach. his muscles flexing ever so slightly, the plain black shirt accentuating them. his hair a little messy, cheeks flushed and lips wet from drinking water. god, he just looks so good.

“~and you’re staring again.” he teased.

“shuttup” i blush, looking away.

“hey. no, keep your eyes on me pretty girl” he mumbles, grabbing my chin with his finger s

“w-what?” i whisper out, confused.

“you heard me.” he whispers back.

i look at him for a moment, the tension growing between us as my face warms up. ''i need to tell you something'' i blurt out.

he raises an eyebrow, putting the book down and turning to me. ''go ahead, angel.''

''u-uh'' i start, taking a deep breath. ''i like you, tom'' i whisper.

''i know.''

''you- you know?'' i say, confused.

''obviously.''

''do you.. do you like me back?'' i furrow my eyebrows.

''yes. i thought you knew?'' he says, genuinely puzzled.

''w- how would i know that?'' i exclaim.

''because i make it really obvious?'' he says, scooching his chair closer to mine. ''who else would i have taken double notes for all day and then break the schools rules to study with until 1am?'' he smirks softly.

my face is burning.

''so- this whole time you knew i liked you and you liked me. why didn't you say anything?'' i furrow my brows, looking into his pretty eyes.

''i don't know... i guess i never thought i was good enough for you.'' he mumbles, shrugging nonchalantly as he if he didn't just say the most gut wrenching thing ever.

''you- are you serious? i'm not good enough for you.'' i say, scooting closer to him. ''i thought you saw me as a sister or something'' i shrug.

''trust me, the feelings i have for you are anything but that'' he murmurs, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. my cheeks go rosy pink as he does. ''i'm crazy about you'' he whispers.

''i'm crazy about you'' i grin, he brushes his thumb against my cheek.

our eyes met, and in that silent exchange, a thousand unspoken words passed between us. tom's gaze was tender, full of admiration, while my eyes sparkled with a mix of shyness and anticipation. the world around us faded into a blur as we leaned in.

our lips touched softly at first, a gentle meeting that was both hesitant and electric. it was as if the kiss was a delicate dance, each movement a step closer to something profound and beautiful. the warmth of our embrace enveloped us, and for that brief moment, everything else disappeared.

his lips are so, so soft and comforting. i could kiss him for a lifetime.

when we finally pulled away, our foreheads rested against each other. the kiss had been more than just a touch; it was a promise.

''god, i love you'' he whispers.

''i love you.''

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧

[shemybitchhh]

𝕋ℍ𝔼 𝔻𝔼𝔸𝕋ℍ 𝕆𝔽 ℙ𝔼𝔸ℂ𝔼 𝕆𝔽 𝕄𝕀ℕ𝔻

<<Shane McCutcheon x Fem!Reader>>

Sinopsis: Shane though that she had everything under control, that until she met you and her icy heart and reckless mind made short circuit and now she is fucked up.

Warning: smut, fingering, oral sex, Shane receiving. 18+ minors dni!

You were driving her crazy. Every sigh, every laugh, every look from you drove her crazy. And she didn't know why.

Your eyes look at her in a way that made her tremble, and the worst thing was that you didn't even try. Your touch made her skin crawl with just a touch, and your voice made her fly through space.

Since that night she met you, it was as if you were a magnet that forced her to come closer. Your hips moving from side to side on the dance floor. Surrounded by people, dancing alone but with a hint of confidence and danger.

You were one in a lot of people dancing in the same place, but you... you had a very special light illuminating you.

"Hey..." was the first thing she said to you as she approached you with one of her many charming smiles, while still looking at your hips. When you turned and locked eyes with her, she felt the music stop.

"Hi." You told her in a sweet and lively tone, inviting her to dance with you with a single look. Shane took a sip of her beer and moved closer to you to start dancing without any worry... not knowing that that night she would fall into temptation.

She could only remember the sweet sound of your moans against her ear every time she slid her fingers in and out of you. How your hands flew to her hair and tugged at it as you tilted your head back, exposing your neck to her.

"Shane..." her name leaving your lips made her body shake in ecstasy.

That night... she remembered it like the back of her hand. Every touch, every kiss, every moan. And she knew in that moment that she needed more, more from you.

Once, twice, three, four times. Shane had already lost count of how many times she had had you under her, or on top, riding her while she grabbed your hips and her mouth watered just watching how your tits bounced in time with her thrusts.

"Fuck, yes yes yes... Shane..." your eyes were rolling to the back of your head and all she could think about was how beautiful you looked like that. Completely vulnerable to her mercy.

She had had many girls in that position, but none of them reached your heels. Shane could swear she would never get tired of seeing you covered in sweat and sighing while her hands traced your entire body ~which she had already memorized like a map~.

Every mole, every tattoo, every scar. She kissed them as if they were a work of art. Every part that complemented you was a work of art.

"Do you like it? Do you like how I fuck you with my fingers? How I play with your little pussy, baby?" She asked in your ear while her index and middle fingers were inside your pretty pussy, and her thumb drew circles on your clit.

Shane loved seeing how your legs flexed with pleasure, your back arched and your hips rose, making her have to immobilize them with her free hand. She also loved using her tongue, slowly and deliciously penetrating you with her pink muscle and feeling your thighs squeeze the sides of her face.

She moaned in pleasure as your hands ran to her short hair and your fingers tangled in her strands.

"Fuck, you're a delight." She said, leaving wet kisses and bites along your thighs as they trembled from the third consecutive orgasm. Then she would go back to sucking on your clit, chuckling as you let out a squeal from the overstimulation.

Your makeup ruined by your pretty tears rolling down your face. Your taste was sweet like honey and your touch as soft as silk.

Every time her arms wrapped around you, her hunger for you increased. Every time you weren't around her, you were the only thing on her mind.

"We're just casual." She said with a shrug as she took a sip of her espresso looking at her friends.

"Since when are you casual with a girl?" Alice asked letting out a small laugh.

"Casual for who you are, it must be like getting married." Dana joked and Shane rolled his eyes.

"Ha ha, very funny." A girl passed by her and gave her a flirtatious smile along with a wink. That reaction would usually make Shane smile and instantly move closer to start flirting. But it didn't happen. She stayed in her place and looked away to continue drinking her espresso.

It wasn't your eyes, it wasn't your smile, if it wasn't you there was no reaction on her part.

"Why? Why? Fuck...why?" She wondered, looking at the ceiling of her room while the smoke from the cig between her lips formed waves through the air.

She wanted to convince herself that what drove her crazy about you was the way your body moved, and the way you pushed her to the limit in bed. But I knew it was something deeper.

With other girls it was easy. She fucked them, and then left without even saying goodbye. But with you it was different, she felt like she owed you an explanation, that your time was valuable, and knowing that you were spending it on her made her feel important. You were the true death to her peace of mind. Because with you, she had absolutely nothing under control.

Having you asleep on her chest after fucking again and again, while the moonlight illuminated your relaxed face, made her heart go crazy.

That's why she made the decision to walk away, to cut you off from her life. She didn't answer your messages again, your calls, even when she bumped into you on the street she turned around and left, feeling her heart burn when she saw your expression of pain.

You didn't understand her behavior, you had done everything right... haven't you?

"No love, just casual sex."

You remembered her words as if she had tattooed them on your forehead. And that's exactly what you did. You never showed the affection you had for her. You never took a wrong step, showing the true feeling she made you feel.

The butterflies in your stomach and the dizziness in your head when you saw her and smelled her aroma.

Her bed began to feel cold, icy. Every night she shook, unable to sleep, remembering how she used to shake but from pure pleasure, while you wrapped your legs around her waist.

"Shane." She could hear your voice as if you were next to her, but you weren't. Not anymore. She listened to your laughter bounce off the walls, and your breath on the back of her neck.

"Do you miss me Shane? I know you do, love." You weren't there, but it felt so real.

She ran her hands over her face in frustration and decided to light another cigarette, trying to calm her heart.

She tried with more women as well. One after another, they fell on her bed, moaned, trembled, ended in orgasms and with smiles on their faces, but for Shane nothing was enough. Nobody compared to you.

She missed the way you said her name. The way you would bend, the way you would break into million pieces and then go back to one piece.

"What's wrong with you? You look like shit." Alice told her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

Shane looked at her and blinked several times, snapping out of her trance.

"Hm?" She asked disoriented. Alice raised an eyebrow at the rest of the group, knowing that something was clearly going on with the brunette.

"You've been in your world for over a week." Bette said, frowning.

"Is something worrying you?" Tina asked, trying to get her friend to open up.

Shane shook her head. "Everything is fine, girls." She assured.

Bun nothing was right. It was no longer a question of fucking you. Shane wanted to possess you completely. You were everything she wanted and needed. Just by seeing you from a distance she was sure that her day could get better. But at the same time she was refusing to let herself fall into temptation again.

It was an endless, toxic cycle that repeated itself in her head. It wasn't your fault, it wasn't your fault that you were her addiction.

She walked from one end of her room to the other without stopping, she had already lost count of how many times she had done it.

She ran her hands through her hair exasperatedly and let out a cry of frustration. She was trying with all her strength, not to want you by her side again. Not needing to feel your skin against hers.

But it wasn't working, and she began to feel her fingers tremble in desperation to have you again.

"Shane... come back to me." Your voice echoed in her head.

"Fuck fuck... FUCK." Came out of her mouth and without another thought, she grabbed her car keys and headed out the door.

You were sitting next to your kitchen counter, a glass of wine rested in your left hand and the morning newspaper in your right. You only had on panties and sandals. Why have more clothes when you are alone in your house.

The sun had just risen and you had had trouble falling asleep, so at 6 AM you were already awake starting your day.

A loud knock was heard on your door and your head peeked above the newspaper with a raised eyebrow. You took one more sip of your wine, grabbed the shirt thrown on the chair next to you, and then headed to the entrance of your house.

You buttoned two buttons on your shirt and then massaged your temples before opening the door. Who could be fucking around at this hour?

Maybe it was your best friend Clara, who had told you to go have breakfast together since she was also awake.

But not. It wasn't Clara, or the postman, or your neighbor Nathan to bring you freshly baked cookies. It was Shane.

She was wearing a dark gray tank top with black pants and boots. Her breathing was accelerated as if she had run for half an hour and her hair was messy, giving her that sexy touch.

Her gaze went straight to your bare thighs and you heard her swallow. You frowned, not knowing why she was there, and a little annoyed that she showed up at your door after pretending you didn't exist.

"Can I help you?" You asked in an icy tone, leaning against the door.

Shane snapped out of her trance and returned her gaze to your face. The face she swore was carved by the gods.

“I…” she trailed off, and you let out a sigh. You weren't up for her nonsense.

"Speak, or I'll slam the door in your face." You said bluntly.

"I need you." She said and looked at you with pleading eyes.

"What was that?" You asked, frowning.

"I need you." She exclaimed and then pronounced your name slowly, tasting it on her lips.

"Go and fuck another girl if you're so desperate." You said with a shrug.

"No, you don't understand. And I don't understand it either." She clutched the bridge of her nose in frustration. "I need you... with me."

You wanted to laugh, thinking she was playing a joke on you.

"You, Shane break-hearts-without-looking-back McCutcheon, with a reputation as a womanizer and no affectionate ties, needs me?" You asked, crossing your arms.

"Please let me come in and let's talk." She asked you, rather by her tone she begged you.

And you thought about it, you thought about it very well before giving her an answer.

"Alright... come in." You said making room for her at the door to enter.

Her features relaxed quite a bit knowing that you would give her the opportunity to have a conversation.

You closed the door and stared at the back of her head, almost shooting lightning bolts through your eyes. You were still very angry, and you would let her know that.

But you were different from her, you were more strategic, more stealthy with your movements. No doubt she would know how upset you were, and would pay the consequences, but for now you would let her talk.

"So?" You asked tilting your head.

"I can't stop thinking about you. In your voice, in your look, in your smile... you, simply you." She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "I know I have no right to demand anything from you, I was the one who walked away after all. But, you just don't stop running through my head every second of my day and I can't take it anymore."

"What do you want from me? Call me again every night at 3 AM to come to your house and fuck until 8 AM?" You asked her and took another sip.

"At first, I thought I just missed sex with you, but it wasn't just that. I miss everything about you." Shane said your name again and you felt a shiver go down your spine. Your name on her lips could make you cum in seconds. "You're not like any other girl I've ever met. You're special, and I knew it from the first moment I saw you, but I guess at the time I didn't know that I'd find myself begging you for a second chance months later."

"I didn't hear you beg." You said and Shane bit her lip.

"Do you want me to beg?" She asked you, and you knew in that moment that you had her exactly where you wanted her.

"Hmm... later." You took the last sip of your wine and left it on the coffee table to get up from the couch and start walking around the living room.

You felt her eyes on you the entire time you moved. You didn't say a single word, knowing how unsettled Shane was, not knowing what was going through your mind at that moment. And you could only enjoy having her in the palm of your hand.

"How long have you been feeling like this?" You asked suddenly and turned to look at her.

"Ever since I started ignoring you." She answered bluntly.

"It's been over a month..." you said and approached her, kneeling in front of the couch to have her face to face. "And what assures me that if I give you another chance, you won't fuck with me again later on?"

"I wouldn't be here in the first place if I knew this was just a stupid whim." She responded with a frown.

"Isn't it? Are you sure about that, Shane?" You asked dismissively and she snorted.

"I know it very well." She said and you noticed the confidence in her voice.

"M'kay." You said and stood up again. You walked to the wall in front of the couch and leaned against it.

"I know what you're doing." She told you, resting her arms on each leg, leaning forward.

"I don't know what you're talking about." You played dumb.

"Yeah, you do." She counterattacked.

"What am I doing?" You asked playing with a strand of your hair.

"You're making me desperate on purpose. You're taking revenge." That comment made you laugh.

"No, Shane. My revenge is knowing that I have you wrapped around my little finger, and using it against you."

"Are you enjoying it? You like knowing that you have me like this?" She asked you, frustration was evident in her voice but at the same time you saw a small smile try to sneak past the side of her lips.

"Yes. You don't know how good it feels, love." You said and Shane trembled hearing what you called her.

"Call me that again." She said. Her voice becoming hoarse.

"Oh? Are you ordering me around?" You asked amused and took a step forward. "I think you're wrong, Shane. I'm the one in charge here. I make the rules, I dictate what's done, and I'll call you however I want."

You were used to a different dynamic. During sex it was always Shane who took control. She always threw you on the bed, pinned you against the mattress, and moved you like a doll to whatever position she wanted.

This time it would be different. You wouldn't let her give a single order. You watched as she clenched her fists and smiled to yourself.

"You're getting angry." You said watching her knuckles turn white. "What's wrong Shane? Don't you like not having control of the situation?"

Your mocking tone was evident. Shane looked away with her brow completely furrowed.

"Look at me." You ordered in a firm voice, her eyes falling on you again. "Don't stop looking at me." You walked towards her and knelt down so you were face to face again. "That's it. Don't stop looking at me. I want to see those pretty eyes staring at me."

You traced her jaw lightly with your fingers, making her shiver. Shane had a mental battle, and her coherent side ended up winning, telling her that if she wanted to win you back the best decision she could make was to follow your orders to the letter.

Her green gems stayed on you the entire time. You bit your lip and gently ran your thumb over her bottom lip, pulling it down slightly causing her lips to part slightly.

Your mouth watered just from that action. Seeing her lips was so tempting, knowing the magic she could do with them, and how loud she could make you scream.

You put your thumb in her mouth, and she gave you access to it without a second thought, keeping her gaze on you the entire time.

"Suck." You ordered and instantly felt her tongue tracing circles on your finger. You let out a small moan at the sensation.

God, how you missed her tongue.

You removed your thumb from her mouth, letting only a trickle of saliva connect her lips to your finger. You heard a small whimper but you ignored her.

"Sit back." You said completely serious.

Shane rested her back on the backrest and you looked down at her chest. Her breasts were slightly visible behind her tank top, and her flat abdomen rose and fell due to her heavy breathing.

You wanted to run your hands over and over all over her body, but that would be a reward for her and you wouldn't give her the pleasure.

"Take off your pants." You ordered again. Shane undid the button and pulled down the zipper in a second, completely desperate.

"Woah woah, why the rush?" You stopped her and she looked at you with pleading eyes. "Slow down. We have all day to catch up, right?"

Shane raised her hips so she could take off ger pants, this time going slowly. Her hands trembled as she contained her desire to tear apart her clothes along with yours. When her pants finally fell to the floor, you could see her white panties. A transparent stain on them was visible right where the lining covered her pussy. You stared at that point without moving and then raised your gaze to her eyes.

"Touch yourself."

"What?" She asked at the unexpected order.

"Did I stutter? No, I said touch yourself." You said slowly. "Give me a show. Come on, put your fingers under the fabric, you're already wet."

Shane wasn't used to being in that position. She felt exposed and weak. Taking a deep breath she slowly lowered her fingers to her panties and slid them through her folds. Her middle finger began to trace circles on her clit and involuntary sighs came from his lips. She closed her eyes and focused on the sensation, trying to get at least something out of it.

"God, you look so sexy touching yourself." You said looking her up and down.

Shane jumped in surprise as she felt your fingers on the sides of her hips, grabbing the sides of ger panties. You slowly lowered them and tossed them to the side.

"Open your legs more." Shane followed your order. "Good girl. Now play with yourself."

You took off your shirt, showing your bare breasts and Shane bit her lower lip to start tracing circles faster.

You brought your hands to your nipples and played with them, massaging, pulling, you even took one at a time and moaned.

Shane wanted to touch you, to run her hands over your skin again, but she knew you wouldn't let her, not for now at least. You released your left nipple making a "pop" sound and looked at her. Her eyes were fixed on you without moving, her fingers moved agilely and quickly and her chest rose and fell without stopping.

"Stick your fingers inside you."

She stuck her middle finger in and you moaned just by looking at it. You wanted your fingers to be the ones inside her.

She began to take it out and put it in slowly and deeply. After a few minutes she added another, her index finger, and began making scissor movements. You approached her and ran your hands along her white thighs. Shane's skin crawled and you just watched as her fingers disappeared.

You licked your lips and playfully bit her left thigh. You traced a line of wet kisses along the area, and then headed further towards the center. You pulled your hand away from Shane and gave her center a lick, listening to her hold her breath. You repeated the action and then began to suck on her clit, pushing her thighs down when they tried to get up.

You smiled watching Shane melt under your touch. Her hands went to your head and became tangled in your strands. She tugged gently and leaned her head back.

"Shit..."

"It feels good, right?" You asked, replacing your tongue with two fingers, curling them inside her to reach her sweet spot, making a low moan leave her lips. "Take everything off."

Shane didn't hesitate for two seconds to follow your orders. Her mind was clouded and she didn't process her actions before doing them. You had her completely naked at your mercy and she didn't give a shit anymore, she just wanted you to continue making her feel like she was touching the sky with your fingers.

Your name began to leave his lips almost incoherently, like a minimal murmur. You slowed your movements and looked at her with a cruel smile.

"I can not hear you." You pushed your fingers deeper and Shane gripped the back of the couch. She moaned your name this time loud and clear.

"Please..."

"Please that?" You asked following your torture of slow movements.

"I need... I need you..."

"Speak up or I'll stop." You sued.

"MAKE ME CUM FOR FUCK SAKE." She said in a completely desperate manner.

You wrapped your arm around her waist and leaned on her, with your fingers still inside her you began a back and forth of quick, short movements.

You felt her pussy squeeze your fingers and instantly your cunt was dripping just thinking about how good it felt. Shane's back arched completely and you silenced her moans by pressing your lips to hers.

Her mouth sucked on your tongue and you moaned. You bit her lip until it bled and then you lowered your kisses to her neck, sucking her to your pleasure and leaving her marked with red and purplish areas compared to her pale skin.

"Will you leave me again?" You asked in her ear, your movements not stopping. Shane shook her head. "Words, love. I need words."

"I'll never leave again, I swear. Please..." her hands went to your scalp and pulled, you let out a satisfied sound in her ear. "Fuck fuck fuck, ohmyfuckingod..."

"You close?" You whispered and with a single tug on her part you knew. "How badly do you need it?"

"So bad. So fucking bad. Please."

"Gosh, you're sexy when you beg." You smiled and gave her all. "I should do this more often. Your pussy loves my fingers from what I see...not to mention my tongue. I think I might go pussydrunk just from eating you for five minutes."

Shane's body began to have small convulsions and you knew her orgasm was beginning to spread through her body. You were amazed to see how she fell apart in your arms, and all because of you. Her tight walls almost caged your fingers completely and you couldn't do anything but love the way her body reacted to your touch.

"Fucking christ." You whispered more to yourself than to her. You raised your head to look into her eyes. You took your fingers out of her slowly and rested your hand on her belly, drawing soft circles lovingly.

Her green eyes locked onto yours and her hands came to rest on your cheeks. You looked at her lips and then up at her eyes again.

"Were you serious or was it just the ecstacy of the moment?" You asked completely seriously.

"I want to be with you." She assured you and brought her face closer to yours. "Really." Her voice sounded so sincere that the fight between your heart and your brain took for granted.

You slowly closed the distance between you and you melted into a soft and loving kiss.

C: Hey guys! Carm here. Just leaving this and walking away very slowly ~jiji~. Love you guys so much! How you enjoyed ;). I also want to clarify that english is not my first language so I'm very very sorry if something is not written correctly.

Remember to stay hydrated, sleep well ~with Shane~ and masturbate to get to know your body ♡♡♡

[morganski-19]

The One Where Eddie Gets Another Job

Steve and Robin walk into the coffee house after work. Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle already sitting in their spot. Robin sits next to Nancy on the couch while Steve flops into the armchair.

“How was the first day of school,” Nancy asks Steve.

Steve groans. “I have three Gabriels in my class and all of them want to be called Gabe. And two of them have a last name that starts with H. Then the fire alarm went off because Beverly decided that popcorn was the perfect lunchtime snack. Three moms tried to hit on me when I was doing car line, and I think one of the kids was sick. So that’s about to be spread around my classroom.”

“That’s,” she starts, trying to find something positive to say. “I have nothing, that sounds like shit.”

“I could never be a teacher,” Robin sighs into the couch. “I didn’t like kids that much to begin with. And after the things you tell me, never.”

“I don’t know,” Argyle pipes in. “It could be fun. And very rewarding.”

“I could totally see you being a kindergarten teacher,” Steve suggests.

The group does a vague nod in agreement.

“For anyone wondering how my day was,” Robin perks up. “I had a very nice conversation with this Italian man. He’s opening up a small bakery with his wife and wanted someone to go over the contracts with him. He’s bringing me some pastries as a thank you when they get up and running.”

The conversation about work continues for a bit, each of them sharing how their day was and destressing.

“Where’s Eddie,” Steve eventually asks. He’s normally here by this point.

Nancy starts laughing. “Oh just wait.”

“What,” Jonathan looks up from his laptop. “Did we miss something?”

“Like I said,” Nancy continues to laugh over her coffee. “Just you wait.”

Like speaking of him suddenly made him appear, Eddie walks out of the backroom of the coffee house. With an apron tied around his waist and a pencil behind his ear. He heads over to an empty table with a wet rag, wiping it down.

“Oh my god,” Robin whispers with surprise.

“Is that Eddie, working?” Argyle questions. “Here?”

Nancy nods, her laughter getting louder. “Yes.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Eddie working,” Robin comments. “It’s like watching an animal out in the wild.”

“I can hear you, you know,” Eddie groans. Shoving the rag in his apron pocket and walking over.

Robin smiles. “I meant you to.”

“How long have you been working here?” Steve asks.

Eddie shrugs. “A few days now.”

“I thought you were working on being a tattoo artist,” Jonathan says. Taking a break from editing photos on his laptop to invest in this conversation.

“That I am. But I needed to shut down my Etsy page for art commissions, because people were being a bunch of dicks, so now I’m down one job. So I got another. Because rent is fucking expensive.”

Nancy makes a gesture with her hand. “And that’s with it rent controlled.”

Eddie makes a gesture toward her. “Also, I blew all of my savings moving out here, so I am trying to build those back up.”

“Aw, look at you being financially responsible,” Robin teases. Poking Eddie’s arm.

“You’re growing up,” Nancy eggs on. Feigning wiping away tears.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “You guys are the worst. I knew it was a bad idea getting a job here.”

“I don’t think I ever envisioned you being a barista,” Argyle notes. “Bartender, yes. Barista, no.”

“Well, I work the late shift too. So I am both of those things.”

“Oo,” Robin turns around on the couch. Standing on her knees to see him better. “Do you get a discount? Can we abuse it?”

Eddie shakes off her hand. “Yes, I get a discount, no you cannot abuse it. I sort of need this job, so I’d rather not get fired. It says strictly in the rules that I cannot use it for friends.”

Robin falls back down, defeated. “Boo, you’re no fun.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Eddie walks away behind the counter. Cleaning off the counter and starting to make someone’s order.

“I’m going to go get something to drink,” Steve says, standing up. “You want anything, Rob?”

“Just a green tea. Not feeling coffee right now.”

Steve nods while going over to the counter. Sitting down at one of the stools. “So, you work here now.”

“I thought that was already established.” Eddie hands off the drink he was making to the girl further down. Coming to stand in front of Steve.

“Is that why you couldn’t come over last night? You could have said that.”

Eddie shrugs. “I didn’t want you to know, quite yet. Thought you wouldn’t really like how much I bounce around jobs.”

“You’re not though. You have a job, you just needed a second one. No shame in that.” Steve leans further across the bar. “It also helps that I find bartenders to be really hot.”

“Steven,” Eddie gasps. “I am at work.”

Steve smirks. “I know.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Did you want anything, or are you just here to flirt with me?”

“Only if flirting with you gets me a discount. Otherwise, I’ll just take my business elsewhere.”

“Is that really all I am to you?” Eddie starts making Steve’s usual drink order. Waiting for the espresso to brew.

“And Rob wanted a green tea.”

Eddie nods, pouring some hot water into a glass and adding a tea bag. “How was work?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Don’t even get me started. The first day is always hard.”

“Oh, I bet.” Eddie steams the milk, adding it to the top of the espresso and drizzling it with caramel.

“And I just can’t wait until I get to hear all of the single, and not so single, PTA moms throwing their cheap pick-up lines at me.” Steve says that with a leading tone. Hoping that Eddie takes that in the direction he wants it to.

Eddie slides the drinks across the bar. “That something they do,” he says, with a lilt of jealousy.

“Every year. Without fail.”

“Any way I can help with that?”

“Come over later and find out.” Steve gives him a flirtatious smile. “What do I owe you?”

Eddie waves his hand. “It’s on the house.”

“I was joking before. Seriously, what so I owe you.”

“And now I’m being serious. I get a free drink a day that I can give out to a friend, so consider that covering Rob’s, and then I am personally paying for yours.”

“What was it about needing to save up money?”

“That doesn’t apply to you, sweetheart.” Eddie leans over the bar a little bit, palms pressed into the edge of the counter.

“Steve,” Robin yells from the couch. “I thought you were getting us drinks.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “I’m paying next time, no arguments.”

“Whatever you say so.”

He walks back over to the group and hands Robin her tea.

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low,

@thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady,

@apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic,

@fearieshadow, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging,

@potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug, @estrellami-1, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @gregre369

@my2amgaythoughts, @ellietheasexylibrarian, @emmabubbles, @eriquin, @grtwdsmwhr

@croatoan-like-its-hot, @dreamercec, @dreamy-jeans137

[orchidyoonkook]

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 7

Title: Hard Goodbyes and Favourite Colours

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: Nel flies home, Yuri flies back, Jungkook can't stop thinking about the other night. And you? Gods, don't even get me started.

Warnings: T, language, fluff (?), angst, reader is ~not~ okay for a chunk of this, bye bye Nel! it was nice to meet you, Yuri being the bestie she is, playful antagonism, JK thinking a lot, some photography technical words but nothing scary, reader is painting again, shocker.

Word Count: 4,463

Release Date: July 9, 2024. 2:00PM

A/N 1: Hi this was supposed to be released like a month and a half ago but then i went to europe and my brain was anywhere but near electronics. Anywhooo here she is, as always thanks for waiting and I'll try to be more consistent now that post vacation depression has kicked in.

Series: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six

Sometimes life works out incredibly conveniently for you, like when Nel’s flight leaves a half hour before Yuri’s gets in at the same airport. 

But then it sucks again as your week with Nel flies by so quickly it feels like you’ve had no time at all while also having so much because of all the new memories you’ve both made. 

Currently in a rideshare and airport bound, because you will be in no way okay to drive back, your grip on Nel’s hand is strangling as you take in every last second of time you can get with him. He keeps giving kisses to your forehead, nose, cheeks, mouth; anywhere he can get access to really. 

He doesn't want this week to end just as much as you don’t. Fuck this fucking sucks so much.

The driver pulls up to the terminal drop off, and you both exit. Nel grabs his bag from the trunk, now filled with little mementos from your week as well as his clothes. A pressed flower from the greenhouse, museum postcards, a doodle you did for him while he was sketching, and more, all tucked away for safekeeping. All the only physical things he can hold onto until he sees you next. 

Walking into the airport, you make your way up to the check in desk, paperwork already in hand. Nel checks in and you request an escort pass, determined to spend every last moment together. 

There’s a lump forming in your throat that you’re trying to swallow. It’s thick, like a ball of unending peanut butter you can’t get down. And your chest feels like a black hole has opened inside of it, right where your heart is supposed to be. Every second that ticks away allowing another drop of the warmth you have with him to be sucked right out of your sternum.

Painful doesn’t even begin to describe this feeling. 

As beautiful as your week was, the reality of the present is setting in, and the closer you get to his gate, the closer you are to tears. You’re trying your best to blink them away, but you won’t be seeing him until winter break, and even then, that’ll only be for a day or two at most before you have to wait till summer to see him again. So it might as well be goodbye for those full 6 months.

It hurts. It hurts so bad to have to go through this over and over again, to have this separation from the one you love, even if it’s only temporary. Funny how temporary can sometimes feel like forever when you’re in the middle of it. 

Funny how the concept of temporary doesn’t make the gash in your heart open any less.

You don’t want him to go, but you know he has too. The faster he goes, the faster he can come back to you. 

You hate that he has to go in the first place. You just want him to stay. Please, just stay.

But he can’t. 

You reach his gate and before you know it, his flight’s being called to board and your tears refuse to stay inside any longer, the lump succeeding in its plot of victory. They spill down your cheeks in silent rivers, wet splotches on the neckline of your shirt forming as they flow. 

Maybe they’ll create a little lake in the hole he’s leaving you with. There’s certainly enough of them to fill it. Something to fill the void a little until you can see him again.

Nel takes one look before scooping you into a crushing hug, a desperate echo of the one from a week ago. His own tears now staining.

“I love you so much,” he says. You don’t see his eyes squeeze shut, nor do you see him memorizing your smell, as he kisses the top of your head. And his voice wobbles as he whispers, “It’s not forever, it’s just for now.” 

He says those words every time you two part, whether it was for a day or a year. Never goodbye or so long. Never see you later. 

They’ve always been a small comfort in otherwise shitty situations. 

“Just for now,” you get out through quiet sobs, gripping onto him even tighter as you shake. 

It takes you a couple deep breaths before you can say anything without breaking. “I love you too. Please be safe, message me when you land, and do well on your final exams.”

He smiles at that last bit, and your tears free themselves again. You’re going to miss seeing that smile in person.

Nel pulls you in once more, tighter. “It’s always harder when my good luck charm is halfway across the world, but I’ll manage.” Your sobs stutter with a broken laugh, and you’re pretty sure his sweater is going to have tear stains on it. “I promise I’ll message as soon as I can. And I’d wish you luck but you never need it. You always do well.”

The announcement for final boarding calls and both of you freeze in each other's arms. You don’t want him to go. He doesn’t want to go.

But he has too. 

You separate only enough to kiss. It’s messy and wet and gross, but you don’t care. It’s the last one you’ll have for a while and you never want it to end. 

But it does. 

Nel pulls away, and you reluctantly let him. He grabs his bag with one hand, the other holding onto both of yours as he backs away until he can no longer reach. Your arms drop to your sides with the traces of his warmth on your skin.

You watch as the boarding crew welcomes him on, and he takes one look back at you. 

You wave, mouthing ‘I love you.’

He mouths ‘I love you’ right back, and turns the corner.

You waited for Yuri at her terminal after dropping off Nel and taking five—okay ten—minutes to violently sob in the bathroom. 

She took one look at your half smile and puffy eyes and smothered you in a hug. Smelling like sunshine and ocean water, it was exactly what you needed. 

“It’s okay Sweets, you’ll see him again before you know it. This year will pass by so fast, just you see,” she tells you through your whimpers, the tears having returned the second her arms were around you.

They dry sometime on the way home. It was a thirty minute ride back to school, and they fell silently for a solid twenty before you even got in.

You hate goodbyes. 

But Yuri’s seen this three times now, and she always knew that a warm drink and junk food were in your immediate shared futures when she did. Screw healthy coping methods. It may be 9:30pm on a Sunday night, but that won’t stop you from downing a pint as you drown your sorrows in sweet, sweet cookies n cream. 

Yuri also knows you need a distraction, so she doesn’t hold back on telling you every detail of her vacation. 

The duke from a few weeks ago had been a dud. ‘Shit personality and even shittier sex’ according to Yuri. No consultation needed. 

But this new guy from the Ilcalos Islands sounds promising. He’s a Count of something she can’t remember but in her words, “big heart and even bigger dick.” 

That makes you giggle. And you’re happy for her. 

“Bitch, the second night he did this thing with his tongue and an ice cube and oh. my. god. I think I’m in love. That man could do whatever he wanted to me and I’d still say thank you afterwards,” she’s rambling at this point and you’re mentally apologizing to the driver for having to hear all of it. 

You, on the other hand, don’t mind at all; gladly welcome it actually. You want your mind anywhere other than the present right now. 

You don’t want to start crying all over again. By the morning you’ll be fine, you’ll have let out everything you needed too. But between then and now, it’s a matter of mentioning the wrong words or seeing an intriguingly designed building that could trigger those pesky tear ducts.

So you listen to Yuri go on and on about this guy, all his techniques and what she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about since she last saw him. His number is already saved in her phone under a very inappropriate name, but you expect nothing less from her. 

You love her for it. For this. 

For knowing what you need to stay afloat right now and not allowing you to throw the anchor overboard with your leg chained to the end.

You really fucking hate goodbyes. 

You’re staring at him. 

Like, full on, no bars held, staring at him. 

And Jungkook’s pretending he doesn’t notice.

You’re sitting in your chair and he’s back in his beside you at greenhouse cafe. Your half done painting of pink flowers sits in front of you, his laptop screen’s filled with this week's newly assigned ‘Studio Portrait Techniques 1’ homework. 

His half finished coffee on his table. An empty pastry bag on yours.

His hands on his keyboard, yours gripping a brush.

And you’re staring at him. 

He’s hoping it’s because this is the first time you’ve seen him since Nel left. 

But it’s probably to do with the fact that he hasn’t looked at you once today. Or the fact that he’s barely spoken at all when he usually can’t seem to shut up when it’s been more than 48 hours since he last saw you. 

Because it’s also the first time he’s seen you since he was with Adaline, imaging she wasn’t Adaline.

“You’re acting weird,” you say.

“No I’m not,” he responds a little too quickly, eyes still focused on his computer.

Yes he is. He really, totally is. 

“Yes you are, you won't look at me and you’ve barely said two words since I got here.” Well your knack for observancy is still intact.

Normally that's a good thing, but right now?

“Did I do something wrong?”

No. No you didn’t.

He did.

He let his emotions get the best of him in a moment of weakness. He let himself become so overwhelmed with feelings he isn’t allowed to have. He let them win for a single night.

And now if he isn’t paying the goddamned consequences. 

After that night with Adaline, Jungkook had woken up filled with regret. He’d crossed a line he didn’t even know he should have drawn in very dark, very permanent ink.

For letting himself, just for one moment, imagine what it would be like to be with…

And things are harder than ever to shove down now. He can’t look even look at you without thinking about it. About what he did. What he wanted. 

Wants.

Fuck, he’s in over his head.

Jungkook forces himself to look at you, putting his years of social training and emotional masking to good use. It sure as hell came in handy during times like this.

Because you can never know. 

He can’t lose you because he's unable to get his shit together. It’s not your fault he feels like this. 

So he lies. Both to you and to himself, hoping it might help him believe it.

“Nothing’s wrong Dali, just focused on my work is all. We got assigned a big project on Monday and I’m planning out all my shoots.”

You look hesitant, like you can see right through his bullshit excuse that was only a half excuse because this project is massive. 

“If you say so,” your tone implying you don’t believe him, but thankfully, you let it go and lean closer to him to see. He pretends his breathing doesn’t hitch, “What’s the project?”

“It’s my final assignment for a class, I have to do a series of five portraits. Each one with a different style, capturing a different emotion, and they all have to be of the same subject to show the true versatility of my work. It’s easy to make things look different when it’s different people being photographed,” he explains.

Therefore, this assignment, and all of its working parts, is huge. He’s glad it’s due in the middle of December because it’s going to take him almost a month of planning to get it all together; backdrops, concepts, costumes, previsualization, focal lengths, props, equipment, lighting setups, etc. And then when the planning is over: to shoot, narrow down and edit. 

But that’s the point of it. To have the students demonstrate they know how to effectively expand on the definition of a ‘portrait’ instead of having one concept in mind and sticking to it. 

‘To broaden your creative approaches to seemingly simple constructs,’ as his professor would say.

He loves the way this professor does assignments. How she layers them so that not only does he learn how to shoot multi-concept ideas for the same project type, allowing him to add to his creative portfolio, but they also force him to break out of the expected conclusions for an idea and think outside the box. 

“Oh wow, that is a lot,” you say. Because you understand long running projects. 50 hour paintings don’t just happen in a day. “Do you have any ideas yet?”

“Yeah! I have them all already, actually,” he turns his computer towards you and you see a point by point list of summarized ideas.

- Bright and bold - happy, bright smile, colourful gels - Black and white, soft light: gel or bounce? Silk diffuser  - profile with water falling on face - relieved - Focused on passion - candid, regular colour. Diffuser? Or silk flag? - Normal colour profile, stark lighting - serious, front facing body, profile facing left, no visible clothing, “regal” _|(_*-*)>_. Flag.  - Mysterious - black background, white smoke, barely visible model, lower half of face painted black, upper half white, striking purple eyes (contacts?). Flags. Gels? 

“I’m really excited for this project,” he says, “it’s just the prep that’s going to take a while. Getting it all mapped and planned out. It’s mostly concepts right now.”

You nod, understanding once again. Though very different mediums, visual arts and photography are similar in many ways. 

“Adaline going to be your model?”

It doesn’t surprise him you think that, but he has no intentions of ever using Adaline for assignments or homework. 

“Actually, I… uhh…” he trails off. Jungkook’s trying to get the words out, he is. But they’re surprisingly difficult for some reason, and getting caught in his throat. 

Which makes his earlier anxious state come back in full force. 

It shouldn't be this difficult. It won’t be the first, second or fifth time he’s asked you.

Get the words out Jeon. Put on your professional face, this is nothing new.

He fails, instead, his voice comes out barely above a whisper as he says, “I was going to ask you if you would.”

You somehow hear him. 

“Me?” you look dumbfounded. 

“Yes, you.” He’s always used you for homework assignments before, so he’s not sure why all of a sudden this is surprising. Maybe because it’s a final assignment versus a weekly one? The effort will be greater? 

“But you have Adaline? I assumed that she would take up the position of model when you guys started going out.”

Oh. That makes more sense. 

But that is one mistake he won’t be making again, because he did ask Adaline. 

Once.

It was recent, Nel was still here and he didn’t want to disturb you because of that. Plus Jungkook was just trying to get a jump on his upcoming assignments anyway, taking a page from your book.

So he asked Adaline. And she leapt at the opportunity, like he expected.

What he didn’t expect, was when she essentially directed, staged, lit and posed every. single. shot. so that she would look her best. 

All he did was click the capture image button when she said too. 

And after the shoot, before he could even think to look at the pictures, Adaline was already there, holding his camera, going through them and deleting any picture she deemed ‘ugly.’

He was left with less than 20 images from the shoot where he was ordered to take over 200. And she even made him switch out one of the three he narrowed down for one she liked better. 

So no, he would not be asking Adaline to model. 

Ever again.

“Nah. You’re a lot easier to work with because you don't care how the pictures turn out, and let me do my thing. Adaline cares a bit too much, and has to have approval on all of them before I submit.”

You snort. “Seriously? Is she that self absorbed?” a quirked brow places itself on your face to match the smirk now on your mouth.

That’s new.

Your tone towards Adaline has always been neutral, if not a bit sharp when he talks about her. 

But this one? It’s like you know her, and knew she was like that, but didn’t know it was this severe. 

Adaline is very popular...maybe you two met and it didn't go well?

It certainly sounds like you don’t like her, if those six words were anything to go by. Which, he guesses they shouldn’t, but he knows you well enough by now to know the difference.

And if he’s honest, that wouldn’t shock him in the slightest. You two are nothing alike, and thank god for that. 

He covers for Adaline, like any boyfriend would. Though it stings a little bit.

“She’s just careful about what images could be leaked to the press. Can’t really blame her for that.”

Your face changes minutely, as if a second of understanding passes through before you turn to go back to your painting, and mutter, “no, you can’t,” placing a splash of pink on a flower. 

He returns to his work as well, switching the portrait assignment out for a different one. He needs to get his mind off it for a while before circling back. 

And the fact that you didn’t answer him. 

Deciding on a Design and Visual Culture assignment due next week, he dives in head first, resuming his earlier state of focus and avoidance.

Jungkook’s editing a picture when you stretch. 

You often hunch over your work, so you try to stretch every 30 minutes or so. Your arms are in the air and he catches a peek at the nearly finished floral study. 

They’re some kind of vibrant pink dangling flowers, and you’ve captured the likeness of them quite well, to no surprise of his, so he goes to compliment it but you beat him to the punch.

“Shots blurry.”

Jungkook does a double take at his laptop screen. He’d spent the better part of 40 minutes editing the image and hadn’t noticed that.

Because it’s not. It’s perfectly crisp and clear.

When he looks back to you, you have a shit eating grin on your face. 

Ah, he knows that look. 

You love to tease him about little things like that, giving him mini heart attacks. ‘Pay back for that first day,’ you claim. 

Well…

Two can play this game, so he plays off your comment.

“Oh, you're right. Thanks,” and he switches to another image. 

Your grin falters but you recover quickly.

“No problem.”

See, while you know how to playfully harass him about his pictures, Jungkook knows how…particular you are about your colours. How they need to be labelled correctly instead of by their umbrella terms like ‘blue’ or ‘red.’ Because blue or red could mean any one of the dozens of ‘sub colours.’

‘It’s not blue, it’s cerulean,’ you’d remark. 

‘That’s not red, it’s burgundy,’ you’d correct him.

You’re always correcting him, and it makes his pants tighten a little bit every time. But that’s on the other side of the line he does not cross anymore. A nice, big, fat, permanent, protective line. 

Jungkook settles for a more subtle method of attack. Using this little fact and your ridiculously extensive knowledge of flowers against you. 

He never thought the defense and attack lessons his father put him through would come in handy like this. But he’s glad for them now. It was the only time he could ever outsmart you.

He gestures to your canvas. “Those pink flowers are pretty, what are they called?” 

“Their common name is Lady’s Eardrop. And they’re magenta.”

Hook, line, sinker. 

He doesn’t even have to try, you walk right into it every time.

“Lady’s eardrop? That’s a weird name…do they come in other colours besides pink?”

You don’t look up as you reply. 

“Magenta, and yeah. Some are plum and magenta, some are a buttery white and magenta, and then some have this like, almost dark tangerine hue, but they’re a different type, longer. Not the same as those,” you point with the end of your brush to the greenhouse, where the fully magenta lady’s eardrop sits in the window. 

“And are these pink ones your favourite?” he’s really trying his best to keep a straight face as yours contorts with an eye twitch at every use of the word.

“They’re. Magenta. And sure, but the plum ones are pretty too.”

“Noted, the pink lady's eardrop are your favourite among eardrops.”

You break, turning to him, voice raising in minor annoyance. Jungkook bites his cheeks to keep a smile at bay.

“They are magenta. Not pink. Pink entails a lighter hue, there’s more titanium white in pink. That,” you point again, “is very clearly, magenta.”

He has to. 

He can’t help it. 

You’re sexy when you're assertive, he thinks. Tip toeing on that nice, big line.

But also hilarious. 

“Same difference.”

He can see the fire in your eyes blaze.

“No, not ‘same difference,’ they’re magenta!”

He’s leaning in. “Pink,” eyeing your lips as you speak. 

You lean in too, enunciating every syllable to prove your point. “Ma-gen-ta.”

Your noses are mere inches from touching. 

“They’re pink, Van Gogh,” he backs off before he does something stupid that he’ll regret, “Don’t get so invested.”

You back off too, sass still very evident when you reply, “They’re fucking magenta, asshat. Two completely different colours and you’ll label them as such around me.”

You’ve always had a mouth on you. One you aren’t scared to use when necessary, especially around him. So he doesn’t push any farther, knowing he’s already gotten what he wanted and then some. 

But also because sitting has become slightly uncomfortable. There was a stiff breeze, he tells himself.

Thank god for baggy, oversized hoodies. 

Returning once again to his work, he puts an elbow on the table and places his hand on the left side of his face to hide the massive smile that’s trying its best to turn into a smothered laugh.

Unfortunately for him, he lets his Princely guard down around you and so he forgets to force it down to an uncomfortable degree like he would at the palace. His laugh slipping out as a strangled noise and he quickly turns it into a cough, hoping you don't notice. 

But you do, because it’s you. Of course you do.

And the look on your face is priceless.

“You did that on purpose!”

“What?” he says way too high pitched. “Nooo, I would never, one hundred percent intentionally, say pink just to get back at you for pointing out the non-existent blur in my perfectly clear picture.”

He can see you trying to control your features, can see you failing and giving up by facing your canvas again, smiling to yourself.

“I was wondering how many times I could get you to say it. I think that was somewhere around ten? Gotta be a new record.”

You roll your eyes at him, but your quirked mouth remains. 

“You’re such a dick,” you quip.

“Yet, you like me anyways.”

You mumble something incoherent.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Awe, c’mon now. Fess up.”

A pause, before, “I said I just remembered I don’t know your favourite colour.”

No you most certainly did not, but he’ll let it slide.

“Black.”

“Ugh, boring.”

“What?”

“Boring,” you say again with absolutely no hesitation and proceed to grace his eyes with your own. “And technically not a colour. Black’s a shade.”

Jungkook offers up a non-smothered chuckle, saving his throat from further shenanigans.

“Whatever, Seurat, it’s still black. What about you? What’s Miss High and Mighty All Knowing of Colours’ favorite?”

“It’s still a shade,” you repeat.

“It’s still my favourite. Answer the question,” he presses. 

You give him an unimpressed stare. 

“Violet. Royal violet. The one your dad wears a lot,” your expression softens to one of wonder as you continue. Like you didn't just refer to the King of the nation you live in as ‘his dad’ so casually. “And when it’s not that, it’s this bright yellow. Like sunflowers or daffodils. Or the colour leaves turn in the fall when the light hits them from above just right.”

It’s Jungkook's turn to stare now. You look lost in your own head, envisioning the colours you describe, seeing them dancing in your eyes. And he can’t help himself, you glow when you speak about something you're passionate about.

“Why two?” 

“Why not?” you answer, still dreaming, colours swimming in oceans of thought. Your voice is almost whimsical. “Don’t you get bored of one colour for too long? It’s nice to switch things up every now and then.”

His reply brings you back down to earth, albeit slowly.

“Red.”

“Hmm?” you touch ground.

“If you won’t accept black, then red. The rich dark one, like blood.” He chose the first colour that came into mind, not really caring which one. 

He did like red. Red looked good in many ways. On cars, clothes, lips...

But he chose the first one that popped into mind because after hearing your favourite colours and the reasons why, he started to like them more than all the others too.

“Red’s a great choice, strong,” you say, allowing him the blanket term just this once.

“Thanks.”

There’s a moment of comfortable quiet between you before you break it.

“When do you need me for the shoot?”

Jungkook’s eyebrows find his hairline. 

That was a yes, right? You’re saying yes?

“Uhm…soon, I’ll let you know the specifics when I do.”

“Sounds good.”

He was going to leave it at that, but adds, “Thanks, Y/N.”

He hasn’t said your name since the assembly. 

Always nicknames when talking to you. Always. 

Never your name. 

Not once in two months. Almost three.

You—

An inhale.

You…like it.

The way it sounds coming from his lips.

Exhale.

Chapter Eight: Photo Shoots and Blasphemous Discoveries

A/N 2: She's shorter but chapter 8 is like 11k so far, so I hope that makes up for it!

A/N 3: As always, Thank you for reading, loves. Xoxo - Yoon <3

<- Back

[aphroditeinthesea]

can i please request a percy jackson x reader where the reader is a daughter of aphrodite to the song i can do it with a broken heart by taylor swift

“ i can do it with a broken heart ”

percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite 🌊

⚠️ percy is an ass to the reader but that’s kinda a given + percabeth inclusion woop woop

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

i can read ur mind

she’s having the time of her life

there in her glittering prime the lights reflect

sequin stars off her silhouette every night

i can show you lies

“I’m so happy you're finally getting over him,” her sister smiled, hand on her back.

She forced a grin as she continued to sing along to the campfire song. She nodded and waited for her sister to turn her attention away. When she finally saw the girl from the corner of her eye turn towards her boyfriend.

Y/N looked down to the grass. If she looked up she knew what she would see. Just the thought was nauseating. The boy who she claimed to all her friends she would marry, who she already had best laid plans to move to New Rome with and go to college together.

Everything that came to a crumble when he decided he did want those things. Just with his best friend instead.

She watched from across the way how his arm was wrapped around the blonde. They weren't even talking, just looking into each other’s eyes. It was as though they were having an entire conversation without saying anything. She recalled how when she first started going out with Percy and her friends tried to warn her. Everyone knew that the two were soulmates, except for three people.

She wondered if on some level she always knew, too. Maybe she was just denying it to stay with him for just a little bit longer. Even if she screamed all night the day she he broke up with her.

If you were ever so inclined to wonder what really truly happened, here’s the deal:

It was like any other Friday. Perseus Jackson waltzed into her cabin, head low almost as though he cared. He told her he wanted to talk to her privately in cabin three. Her heart sank. She knew. She just knew.

Soon enough, while she sat on his bed and he stood in front of her, he spoke in his softest voice.

“We need to break up.”

She felt her head get dizzy while she looked up at him, “what?”

“I’m so sorry,” he sat next to her, “I hate having to do this to you.”

“Why?” was all she could say.

His eyebrows creased, while tears welled up in his sea green eyes. She felt like she was looking into one of the clear seas of Greece. “I dont feel about you the way that I should.”

She sighed, “Annabeth.” Although because of the weakness in her voice, all that came out was, “Eth.”

He understood her. Slowly nodding, he began once again, “I realized I feel more about her than I should,” he took a breath, “but I wouldn't do anything before ending this with you. I couldn't hurt you like that.”

That damn loyalty of his.

“I get it.”

i’m a real tough kid

i can handle my shit

they said “babe, you gotta fake it til you make it”

and i did

The next morning, it was like it never happened. Afterall, a girl’s gotta have a reputation to upkeep. Everyone’s favorite daughter of Aphrodite. Who could hate a girl so bubbly and peppy and outgoing and happy and has never once had a bad hair day?

Everyone tried to get her to talk about it, but the only thing she said was “I’m helping at arts and crafts today, tee-tee-why-ell!”

With a smile on her face and the taste of vomit on her lips, she pranced around helping campers make vases and false confidence.

“You need to guide your hands up more, like this-”

“Y/N.”

She looked up to lock eyes with the daughter of Athena. “Annabeth.”

“I really wanted to talk to you.”

She flashed her blinding smile and raised eyebrows, “I would love to talk, but I’m right now,” even though her blood boiled at the sight of the blonde curls, “see you later, though.”

“I’m staying.”

“Oh!” She squeaked, “grab a seat.”

lights, camera, bitch smile

even when you wanna die

he said he’s love me all his life

but that life was too short

As soon as y/n was alone she broke down, hitting the floor. She felt all the pieces of her shatter. She had spent hours grinning like a winner before she finally crashed.

She let out every emotion she had felt that day. The anger, the sadness, the betrayal, the heartbreak, all of it. She let out a scream for every glance she shared with either Percy or Annabeth.

But just before dinner, she dolled up her makeup and curled her hair to perfection. Then brushed it out. Then straightened it.

She knew she was overthinking it, but how damn stupid would she look walking out to dinner with hair that mirrored the girl she was just left for? Of course, the meal went as it always would. Her cracking jokes with her siblings, giving out advice that not a soul asked for, all was normal except for the table across the way.

The Poseidon table, which was currently being shared by a certain blonde. This had to be a joke. She watched their conversation flow so easily. The laughs, the smiles, whispers, before Annabeth snuck back off to her own table.

She thought to herself that maybe she should have done that. I mean, if little miss perfect could bend the rules a little, why couldn't she? Maybe that’s why he left?

Over the next few weeks, she tried to block out everything about him. Maybe it was just a dream. But occasionally she’d find something of his in a drawer. Crucial evidence she didn't just imagine the whole thing.

She was sure she could pass this test. The test being the ability to not spend her days crying. And although she did cry a whole lot, she was so damn productive. It was honestly an art. She knew for the rest of her life that this time really proved how good she was at faking. You know? ‘Cause she’s miserable and nobody even knows.

Try and come for her job.

[weird-addiction]

Savage Within

Pairing: House of the Dragon x Male!Targaryen!Reader 

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Mentions of childbirth, murder, burning down an entire city, dragon death, threatening people, bloody duels, graphic descriptions, gore.

Being the first born of King Viserys was not easy, being the heir and prince of dragonstone, Y/n hated it. He was the first born son of King Viserys, older brother to princess Rhaenyra Targaryen. 

He was three years older than his younger sister, making him already ten and eight years old, a dragon rider since he was seven years old. Trained in the art of the sword ever since he could stand, the responsibilities weighed down on him. He wanted to be free, not free in the normal sense, free in the mental sense of things. Y/n felt like he was trapped in his mind prison, the key burned away in his blood that was set alight by the dragon flame. 

There was a side of him that could not be unleashed, if it did the end of days will arrive sooner then how Aegon the Conqueror dreamed of it.

The Red Keep was that he has known, he was born in these very halls, in the same birthing bed that his mother Queen Aemma has had multiple miscarriages and stillborns on. His father has always said when Y/n finally was brought into the world, his cries were all the Red Keep heard, when the midwife said it was a boy, Viserys cried happy tears as his wife held the babe in her arms. 

Y/n had the natural silver hair and violet eyes of his Valyrian forefathers, as he grew into a man his hair got longer and eyes got sharper. Growing into a handsome prince, most of the ladies at court would chase after him, greater and minor lords would offer their daughters, nieces, sisters and cousins as his future wife. 

He wanted nothing to do with them. Marriage. Children. A wife. His own family. None of it, he did not want any of it.

Walking to his mother’s room, he was in riding gear as he was going to the Dragon Pit after visiting. Pushing open the door, the room had incense burning, maesters, midwives all attending to the pregnant queen.

“Mother.” He called out as he walked over and sat down next to her on a smaller stool.

“Y/n. My beautiful boy. How are you? Are you going to go riding again?” She asked as she fanned herself.

“Yes, Seiphax has grown restless within the pit. I heard from the Dragonkeepers that they would cry out at night.” A smile adored his features, the carefree nature of his was on full display.

Y/n’s eyes fell to his mother’s belly, swollen with child. Aemma saw this and laughed. “Your new sibling will be here soon.”

“Mother, I worry for you. You keep on trying pushing out heirs, your body will be eventually destroyed, you cannot keep this up.” He said with worry. “Father already has me as heir, why does he need anymore children? Does he not know of your miscarriages?” 

Aemma gestured for her son to come forward, putting a piece of hair behind his ear when he got close enough. “Queen Alyssa had nine children..” Y/n rolled his eyes and pulled away from her. “I know, you have told me that since I have not wanted to marry.”

“As queens, we have to do our duty to the realm.” Y/n crossed his arms before his eyes. “But mother…”

He shut up as he saw Aemma give him the ‘look’. Letting out a sigh before putting up his hands in defense. “Alright. Alright. I’m just gonna go…I will think about my marriage I guess.” Y/n turned and left the room, going to the dragon pit and mounting Seiphax.

Taking to the skies, getting as far away as possible from King’s Landing at the moment. If he was not heir, he would have already fled across the Narrow Sea and escaped and lived freely.

His dragon was the same size as Caraxes, if not bigger, its wingspan was bigger than the Blood Wyrm but its neck was not snake-like. The scales were a shiny black color, when the dragon first hatched his father had thought it was Balerion reincarnated. 

Within the clouds, above all cities and the people, the wind that blew through his hair gave him the peace he wished he could have. Any other boy would love to be in his position as prince. He knew of what the smallfolk said about him.

The dragon sat in midair as it floated above the clouds. Y/n’s bond with his dragon was strong, sometimes even without High Valyrian, it was like his dragon could understand what he wanted to do.

Y/n was beginning to slip off the saddle, his dragon realized what he was going to. His body weight shifted all to one side and soon he was free falling to the ocean below. Seiphax flew after him, flying as fast as they could and eventually caught him on his back again.  

“Just let me fall Seiphax…..” Was all he said before he took control of the dragon again and flew back to King’s Landing.

Landing back down at the Dragon Pit’s entrance, he got off as he soothed the beast. “Good to see you back prince. Your sister arrived not long after you left.” He walked over to the horse they had brought for him.

“Right. Let’s get back to the Keep before my father freaks out again.” 

—-------------

Things have moved too fast for him, the tourney, the death of his mother and brother, his uncle getting exiled, his father getting remarried, Alicent getting pregnant, having a half-brother, Rhaenyra getting betrothed, the wedding leading to someone dying.

Time flew by and soon ten years had gone by, he was in the same if not worst state he was in before. His nephews and half-siblings have grown up now, all were now at least children that could understand the world that goes around them.

His uncle has married Lady Laena Velayron, giving him twin girls of pure Valyrian blood; Baela and Rhaena. 

His sister getting pregnant again with her third child.

Everyone around him is getting on with their lives, but him, Y/n was heir, and yet he was still alone. Every time they talked about him getting married he managed to sneak away to the dragon pit and fly off into the skies, he would fly for hours and would not come back unless they dropped the topic on his arrival back.

This day, when he arrived back to the Red Keep he saw his sister walking the halls with a newborn in her arms. He saw his brother-in-law Laenor helping her as she had a limp, he went over and got her other arm. 

“Sister, why are you walking? You should be resting after your labors.” His voice was laced with concern.

“The queen has asked for the baby.” Laenor replied, disgust written all over it.

“Again? Thought we were over this.” Y/n shook his head.

“That’s exactly what I said.” The other male said with a sigh.

Soon, they arrived at the queen’s chambers. Even Alicent looked shocked at Rhaenyra walking. 

Y/n could only stand awkwardly to the side as he eyed everyone and practically everything in the room. His father walked in shortly after, but he could care less. He knew more than everyone else in this room, he knew it was all the Hightowers doing, he knew Alicent was the one spreading the rumors, Otto Hightower was the vulture he wanted to hunt and shoot through the eye with an arrow. 

Alicent then came over to him. “Prince Y/n. Your sister has delivered another healthy babe, it is only a matter of time before you need heirs of your own. Me and your father can find you a suitable match..-”

Y/n groaned and rolled his eyes. “Stop. Your grace.” He began to turn away. Y/n gave a silent glare before leaning in and whispering into her ear. “I know you and what you are, a snake and a vulture on the throne. Once my father is gone and dead and cold in his grave, you will overlook me and my sister and install your own children on the throne. If your father did see me as the true heir, he would not have made you marry my father. He only wishes to see his own blood on the Iron Throne.” 

Pulling away, a frown was on his lips. Alicent had an unreadable expression, she was stunned at first but then spoke up anyway. “I’m sure that is not what my father intended for my prince. You are the first born to King Viserys, you are the heir with no doubt.” 

Y/n could only scoff as he decided to walk out of the room, going off to the dragon pit again as he wanted the comfort of his dragon.

His dragon has grown double in size, almost bigger than any dragon in the realm save for Vhagar. It was bigger than Caraxes, bigger than Vermithor, bigger than Dreamfyre. 

Perhaps it really was Balerion again. 

—-------------

Lady Laena has died to Vhagar, setting herself aflame by the dragon’s fire. Everyone was gathered on Driftmark to her funeral, the princes and princesses clearly seemed bored and did not want to be there. 

Y/n stood next to his half-sister Helaena, he was her elder by many years, but Helaena thought comfort in him. Y/n knew she was a shy girl, and did not want to converse with others often. He saw Rhaenyra in the distance, he excused himself to go see his sister.

“Nyra…I know you want to see him.” He said, taking a goblet and filling it with wine.

“I do not know what you speak of brother.” 

She was still trying to deny it, he knew this well. “I know how you look at uncle. You can’t fool me.” 

He did not say anything more, he wanted to drink and get rid of this unnecessary stress. Standing off to the side as he drank, soon his half-brother Aegon spotted him. The boy came over to him, also holding a cup in his hand. “Drinking so soon brother?” The younger asked.

“I should be asking you that, though it’s not a surprise considering it’s you. Guess you take after me.” Downing his wine in one gulp.

“Guess I do, I don’t really see that being a bad thing.”

Y/n gave him a warning glare before walking away. His family has not been the same ever since Alicent married his father, and at this rate there was more infighting going on then Aegon’s conquest to conquer the Seven Kingdoms.

He walked away from the ceremony and to sanded areas of Driftmark. His dragon slept along and behind one of the hills, spotting it was easy as the black scales shimmered in the sunlight.

Seiphax growled as he sensed Y/n’s presence, nuzzling into his rider’s warmth as Y/n patted its snout and soothed him. Seiphax growled more, suggesting to his rider that he wanted to fly and stretch its wings. “I know boy, I’ll take you tonight. How’s that?” The dragon growled in delight at the question.

“Alright. I will be back. Right now I need to go….” He cut himself off, he felt a strong urge to do something.

“I will come back. Just rest for now, yeah?” He patted the dragon’s snout before walking away. 

His hand on his sword, though there was no need to bring a sword to the funeral, Y/n does not part with his blade.

Y/n wandered for a while, he does not know where he went, he just knows he ended up in a forest. There was something pulling him here, and he answered the call. 

The further he got into the forest, the pull began to get stronger. He got to an area where some people were gathered, it was there he felt it. He felt something pushing towards them, his hand gripped his sword harder than before. 

“Kill..”

“Huh?” He heard a voice, he was sure of it.

“Kill them all..” 

“What?” The voice was there, he could not have been wrong. 

“Kill them and prove your worth..” 

He walked closer to the gathered folk, seeing them up close, he realized who they were. They bore the sigil of the Hightower, wearing the green colors with pride, the tower sigil representing their power. 

Seeing it made his blood boil.

“Do you remember the dress Alicent wore on your sister’s wedding day? It was green. What colors does the tower fire glow when Oldtown calls its banners to war?”

“Green..” His voice was laced with hatred. It was clear to him now what Alicent did when she wore such a dress. Queen Visenya should have burned the faith and the Hightowers down when she had the chance.

Unsheathing his sword, he walked, then it turned into a run then a full on sprint. 

He plunged his sword into the first man, after that everything was a blur. He fully blacked out.

—---------

Vhagar had been claimed, but nothing was without a price. Prince Aemond has lost an eye, cut out by his own nephew Luke.

Everyone was gathered back to the main hall, Aemond was getting his eye stitched up after getting it fully taken out. Luke had a broken nose, the others all had bruises. Aemond was trying so hard not to scream, in the moment he wanted to hold his half-brother's hand, Y/n was the only one who did not judge him for not having a dragon.

“Jace? Luke!” Rhaenyra bursts into the room, going to check on her children.

“Where is my son? Where is my heir?!” Viserys shouted at the guards, the kingsguard could only look at each other as they knew not of where Y/n was.

“We have not seen him at the fight Your Grace, perhaps he was still in bed.” One of them said, unsure of his answer. 

Viserys looked toward the kids, looking for some sort of answer to where his heir would be. Most of the children looked away, not knowing where Y/n was at all. All except for one, Helaena, but she stood still as she casted her gaze towards the ground instead. She was mumbling under her breath, but no one managed to catch what it was. 

Aegon stood off to the side as he was drunk and asleep but then woken up by everyone else, he didn’t know anything and yet here he was standing here as if he was on trial for a crime. Aemond sat in the chair with only one remaining good eye, he also did not see his half-brother during his fight, or even when he claimed Vhagar. 

Jace and Luke both looked away not knowing where their uncle was, Luke clutched onto his mother’s dress skirts and tried to hide behind her as much as possible. Jace just stood, his eyes anywhere but to look at his grandsire. Rhaenyra had a hand on Luke’s back as she tried to comfort him. 

Alicent could only look away as she also did not know, she stood over Aemond as she tried to offer some sort of comfort to her son who had just lost an eye. Squeezing his hand in hers as they both stayed silent. 

“Does anyone know where in the seven hells Y/n might be?!” Viserys shouted again, no doubt some of the kids flinched at his tone.

“Father..” Rhaenyra pleaded.

“The towers that glowed green, they would be engulfed in dragon flame..” 

Helaena mumbled under her breath, the only person close enough to her was Aegon, but he only brushed it off as nonsense.

“So does no one know where my son is?” He looked towards his guards again.

“He was not in bed.” Aemond finally said. “I have not seen him since the ceremony.”

“When did you last see him, Aemond?” 

“He was with Aegon.”

“Me?”

Viserys then turned to his second son. “And you boy? Where is your brother?” Aegon did not reply.

“AEGON! Your king demands an answer!”

“None of the children has seen him since the ceremony. Indulging his dragon I would believe, I saw him walk away.” Alicent finally spoke up.

“The towers that glowed green, they would be engulfed in dragon flame..” 

Helaena continued to mumble.

“Send people out to look for him, check where his dragon is.” Viserys said to the guards as they bowed.

“Husband, Aemond has lost an eye! We can look for him in the morning, but his eye cannot.” Alicent argued, she wanted justice for her son.

“I cannot restore his eye, Alicent.” Viserys said sadly. 

“Because it has been taken! He’s your son Viserys! Your blood!” She was on the verge of crying and shedding tears.

“My sons were the ones that were attacked and forced to defend themselves! If my brother were here he would say the same. Vile insults were levied against them.” Rhaenyra said, pushing the two boys behind them.

“What insults?” Viserys was now confused.

“The legitimacy of son’s birth were put loudly to question.” Rhaenyra chose her words carefully.  

“He called us bastards.” Jace added, looking back at Rhaenyra.

“Wh-” Viserys was cut off as a guard came into the room, catching his breath as if he just ran a couple of miles.

“The Heir’s dragon…” He said catching his breath.

“What? What has happened to Seiphax?” 

“The dragon was flying by itself! The prince was nowhere in sight!” The guard managed to say.

At that moment, before anyone could say anything about it, a loud roar could be heard from outside of the Castle. The roar was so loud it seemed like it shook the whole of Driftmark itself. 

The room went silent, the adults took the kids to bed as the guards went outside and assessed the situation. Rhaenyra took the kids to bed, she looked over to Daemon and silently told him to bring her brother home.

—---------

A dragon with shiny black scales can be seen flying overhead of Driftmark, taking to the skies and disappearing among the stars.  Its scales make it blend in perfectly.

Flying under the moonlight, flying over to the distant forest. It slowly lowered itself down in the middle of the forest. Folding its wings in and dipping its head down, a hand slowly patted him. 

“It’s alright boy, you found me.” Seiphax let out a low growl, turning its head to the dead bodies that lay upon the grass and dirt of the forest floor, the blood slowly sinking into the earth below.

The dragon eyes narrowed at the dead, through his eyes, he was asking if it was his rider that killed them. And Y/n already knew. “It was me. I first thought they were fake and I had thought I had gone mad, but since you can see them I don’t know anymore. Maybe you can see them because we are bonded.” 

He leaned his forehead onto the cold scales of Seiphax, as if telling the beast he was still alright. Y/n then pulled back and went to grab where his saddle was, getting on top and making himself comfortable before yelling out a single command.

“Dracarys.” 

The dragon readied itself before spitting out its flames, burning the corpses of the hightower. Y/n watched as the banner of Oldtown fell, the red and yellow flames engulfed the green. However, the flames begin to change, they begin to darken, turning to a pitch black color. 

Soon the flames came to an end, Y/n felt a sense of relief as he watched the corpses burn to nothing. The only thing left was a banner of a half-burnt Hightower banner, and the burnt grass below that has been scorched. “Soves.” Was the only word that left his lips, the dragon spread its wings out but not entirely, before taking off into the sky once again.

“I owe you this flight.” Seiphax let out a sound that sounded like he was laughing, which brought a smile to Y/n’s face. 

They flew to a different mountain cliff, Y/n sat cross-legged as his dragon climbed over the top of the rocks behind him. He managed to get some sleep, just barely as they soon saw the sun rise over the horizon. 

He has never seen a full sunrise before, not out in the wilderness where the nature of things go undisturbed. It was silent save for the sounds of birds and the wind blowing, nothing else was there to disturb him. There were no people, no family drama, no politics, no duties, no pressure of being the heir. He can just relax.

However, nothing ever lasts forever. It was not long until he heard the screech of the blood wyrm, telling him that his uncle was nearby and ready to take him home. Upon hearing the red dragon, his own dragon Seiphax climbed over the hill of rocks and also roared at it. 

Daemon was taken back at how big his nephew’s dragon has actually gotten over the ten years, now it was bigger than any other dragon in the realm, it was bigger than Caraxes he was sure. In a few years it could even rival Vhagar. 

“Nephew. Let’s go.” Daemon simply said. Y/n looked tired, but he only shook his head not wanting to move. “Everyone wants you back. Your father is worried.” Daemon said again.

“No.” Y/n said. “I hate going back. Everytime I go back, the snakes and vultures that rule within my father’s council only wish to see me fall! They do not care if I am the heir, they do not think I am ready to rule. They would rather have my brother because he has the conqueror’s name!” He yelled out, almost all of the pent anger from over the years. 

Daemon got off of Caraxes and went next to his nephew, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Then prove it.” Daemon said.

“What?” 

“I hate the Hightowers as much as you do. Only you and me and Rhaenyra see what they truly are. We are the blood of Old Valyria. Our ancestors were conquerors, we don’t wait until the moment. We take it, either if they are willing or unwilling.” 

That moment, something lit up inside of the heir. If it was only a spark before, it had turned into a flame, a flame that cannot be tamed no matter how much you throw it at the tides.

—---------

Moving to Dragonstone with his sister and uncle may not have been a smart move, however, Y/n refused to stay at the court of green any longer. After Rhaenyra and Daemon married, he had hopped onto Seiphax and flew to Dragonstone by daybreak. 

Little did he know how fast time moves, six years has passed, now returning to King’s Landing to defend his nephew Luke’s title as the future Lord of the Tides. 

The wheelhouse went from the dragonpit to the Red Keep, and when it stopped Y/n mentally prepared himself as he stepped out after Daemon.

“Y/n Targaryen, First of his name, Prince of Dragonstone and Heir to the Iron Throne.” They announced his arrival. 

Once they went inside, he no longer saw the Targaryen sigils of the three-headed dragon. Instead it was all replaced by the seven-pointed star of the Faith of the Seven; the Hightowers have taken over the Keep that was built by their ancestors. 

“I would say it is nice to come home, but I barely recognize it anymore.” He and Rhaenyra said at the same time, they looked at each before he nodded for them to proceed. 

They walked the halls they had grown up in, the familiar hallways and corridors became weird and no longer felt like it was home. Their steps stopped as they reached the doors of the King’s chambers. 

Y/n went over to his father, seeing him practically bedridden brought him a sense of sadness. He promises that he will burn House Hightower to the ground. 

“Father, it's me. Y/n.” He spoke quietly.

“Y/n? Oh Y/n…my heir…” Was all Viserys could say before Y/n pulled away to let his sister take over. 

“I’m going out.” He said to Daemon before he left, which Daemon gave him a nod to.

In truth, Y/n had no idea where he was going to go. He wandered around for a while trying to clear his head, but soon he found himself in the training yard.

He saw his nephews there as well, watching someone going against Ser Criston Cole. When the view changed, he saw the silver haired prince was none other than his half-brother Aemond.

Something was definitely going to go wrong. 

During the council to determine Luke’s claim to Driftmark, halfway through King Viserys came in after all. Viserys deemed his grandson Lucerys the rightful heir to Driftmark and yet Vaemond would not have it, Viserys decided to also have Y/n say who he would pledge to as the rightful future Lord of the Tides.

“I would pledge to my nephew Lucerys Velaryon as the future Lord of the Tides, as the heir I will have him rule driftmark while Jacecerys will have a place in my court.” Y/n said with his head held high for the Hightowers to see, he has not even spit fire yet and they looked scared in the mere presence of a dragon. Scratch that, they were in a room of dragons and yet they were only scared of one.

“You may run your house as you see fit, but you will not decide the future of mine! My house survived the doom! And a hundred tribulations besides! And I will not see it ended on the account of this-”

“Say it.” Daemon whispered as he nudged Y/n on the elbow.

“Her children are BASTARDS! And she is a whore.” Vaemond spat. Many gasped around the throne room.

“I will have your tongue for that.” Viserys managed to say as he got out the conqueror’s blade.

Y/n in one swift movement cut off the top of Vaemond’s head, just above where his tongue was. “He can keep his tongue.” He said, looking down at the corpse, before tearing his gaze to the Hightowers; especially Otto. 

“Disarm him!” Otto yelled, but no guard dared to move. 

“I am the heir, you have no say over me. No. Fucking. Need.” He wiped off his blade and sheathed it.

That was the first taste of fire the Hightowers got directly coming from Y/n Targaryen, it will surely not be the last that they see such flames.

—---------

The family dinner was a disaster, Y/n managed to break up the fight between his half-brothers and his nephews before it got even worse. 

They left that night on dragon-back, getting away and hoping the drama between everyone would die down for a while.

Little did they know that Viserys passed away just as quickly, and soon the greens have taken advantage and have usurped the throne from the rightful heir and placed Aegon on the throne.

While Y/n was on Dragonstone, he had no idea of what had happened. Until Daemon came and told him. 

Which led to this very moment.

Standing around the painted table, plotting the war to get Y/n back on the throne. While the men were all standing around the table, pointing out possible allies and places for resources if possible. Y/n stood next to his sister, unsure of what he needed to do, this is the worst he had feared of what was going to happen and now it has become reality.

“The greens also have dragons uncle, there has not been a dragon fighting another dragon since Maegor’s reign.” Y/n argued. 

“We also have dragons. They have three adult ones by my count, we have Seiphax, Syrax, Caraxes, Vermax, Arrax, Tyraxes, Meleys. Baela has Moondancer. There is also Seasmoke who is riderless, there are also wild dragons here on Dragonstone. We have over ten to their three, we easily outnumber them.” Daemon said, wanting to already have this war started.

“No.” All eyes turned to Y/n now. 

“What do you mean Your Grace?” One of the Maesters asked.

“If we go after them with force, we will only come back with broken bones, injuries, burn marks and most likely dead dragons. I would not underestimate Aegon so easily.” Y/n spoke, focused on the map in front of him. 

His eyes drifted to the end of the table, there was always one place that the greens would have control so easily, that place also had one more dragon. 

“No one takes action unless I say so. Get as many allies as we possibly can, prepare the ravens Maester.” He said walking around the table, getting to the other end of it. The bottom of the map where the name Oldtown sat. 

“We should bear those messages uncle.” Jace offered.

“Did you not hear what I said? I will be the only one taking action unless I give you permission. You need to stay here in case something goes wrong with me. Do you understand?” Y/n’s gaze hardened on his nephew.

Jace nodded at his uncle’s words. Rhaenyra on the other hand followed her brother out of the room. 

“Brother, what are you doing? We can’t sit by and do nothing while Aegon sits on your throne.” Rhaenyra spoke quickly. 

“Who said I’m doing nothing? The best way to handle such things is not to go after it with force, but rather use what we can to force it out. The greens will be on their knees begging for mercy after what I do.” Y/n turned away with a wicked smile.

Going to Seiphax, climbing onto its saddle that was just barely able to be put onto the dragon’s back, it seemed that the black-scaled dragon had once again doubled in size. It was almost as big as, if not bigger than Vhagar.

“Soves!” Seiphax took to the skies once more, this time it was not for anything nice. 

They flew south for three days, before they finally got a glimpse of Oldtown from above. The city has not yet seen the dragon, but Y/n did not care as he began to fly lower and lower, until the entire city had the dragon’s shadow over it.

And that is when he heard it, the battle horn being blown. Oldtown has called its banners to war.

The fire of the tower had turned green, the banners of House Hightower rose as the armies formed quickly to defend its city. But what could they do against a dragon? Nothing. 

Y/n’s target was not the city first, it was the Starry Sept. The place where the high Septon had once called his family 'abominations’. Queen Visenya was right, they should have burnt it down while they had the chance. Visenya had once said to King Aenys to burn it down and turn it to a second Harrenhal, well it was going to be just that. 

Circling above the Starry Sept before he flew down quickly and yelled out a single command. 

“Dracarys!” Seiphax complied with his rider’s command and began to set aflame to the sept, roasting whoever was still inside. 

Y/n had Seiphax breathe his flames over the sept at least five times before he decided to burn the city; the dragon’s flames were no longer red or yellow, but rather the flames had turned black. 

The burning of Oldtown as a whole had turned into a second Harrenhal, the city was engulfed in Seiphax’s black flames. Y/n had single handedly destroyed the entire line of House Hightower, as no one had managed to get out of the city under his eyes. The Hightowers all hid inside of their home, the dragon’s black flames engulfed them entirely and soon were nothing more than ash and bone. 

What Y/n did not expect was another dragon meeting him in the sky, it was Tessarion and its rider Daeron Targaryen; the youngest son of Viserys and Alicent Hightower. However, Tessarion was no match for the powerful Seiphax. 

Tessarion circled around the bigger dragon making it harder for Seiphax to catch him, but what Daeron did not know was that Y/n had no intention of backing down, Y/n’s goal was to kill the dragon.

Tessarion continued to circle the bigger dragon until Seiphax had enough and began to charge, turning its head to follow the smaller and its circling. The bigger dragon followed its movements before speeding up, its wings catching the wind as it went after Tessarion. Seiphax blew its fire towards Tessarion hoping to slow him down, the smaller dragon slowed down but Seiphax managed to catch up completely. Daeron managed to get his dragon to duck out of the way, but this only caused the dragon’s downfall.

When Tessarion moved away, Seiphax flapped its wings harder to speed up. Seiphax comes up on the right side of Daeron’s dragon before digging its teeth into Tessarion’s right side, the bite was not deep as Seiphax retreated its bite. 

Only for Seiphax to rip out Tessarion’s right wing. The blue queen roared out in pain before it began to fall towards the earth. Daeron tried to hold onto the ropes of his saddle, but his grip slipped and began to free fall. Y/n had Seiphax fly downwards, the heir had managed to grab ahold of Daeron’s arm and pulled him up.

Daeron tried to kill Y/n as he pulled out a dagger and attempted to slice the other’s throat open. The older dodged out of the way and slapped the dagger out of his hands. “You do anything else, I will drop you. No one, not even your own mother will find your remains.” Y/n spat with a glare, looking over his shoulder. 

Daeron could do nothing, his dragon had just died, he had no other weapon, Oldtown was burning, all of the Hightowers had died. There was no one to help him anymore, he could only do as his half-brother says and hope for the best that he does not die. 

Seiphax flew back to Dragonstone in only two days' time, the dragon picked up speed and managed to get back early. The morning they arrived back, everyone had been awoken by the sound of wings flapping outside and a roar that shook the earth. Landing beside the castle of Dragonstone, Seiphax let his rider down along with his hostage. 

Dragonkeepers and guards gathered around to see what had happened, many were shocked to see Prince Daeron covered in ash and soot, but was also surprised to see Tessarion was nowhere in sight. 

“Your grace, what has happened.” 

Y/n pushed Daeron to move forward as he got off of Seiphax. “I’ll explain inside. Put his hands in chains, he has already tried to kill me on my dragon.” The guards nodded and took Daeron away. Y/n gestured for the maesters to follow him inside. 

Walking through the gates of the castle, he was greeted by different guards, servants and a very worried Rhaenyra. “Brother, what did you do? I just saw Daeron being taken away by the guards, did you go to Oldtown?” She asked, tugging on his sleeve.

They walked to the room with the painted table, where a bunch of lords and Daemon were present as well as his nephews. He waited for everyone to quiet down before speaking.

“Oldtown is in flames. The Starry Sept is burnt down, every member of house Hightower is dead within Oldtown. I have captured prince Daeron, for now he is our hostage. He is defenseless, he has no one to help him.” Y/n simply said. Daemon had a smile on his lips as he heard the words of his nephew.

Everyone around the table began to whisper, but no one dared to actually speak up against the heir, that is until Princess Rhaenys spoke up. 

“Your grace, when I fled from the dragon pit I could have burnt them but I chose not to. Because that would have been the starting of a war, I would not have it start because of me. But now, Oldtown and the Starry Sept have been burnt, Alicent would not hesitate to come after us and burn us as well.” Rhaenys reasoned. 

Y/n’s lips pulled into a wicked smile. “Why do you think I have Daeron?” The room was silent, all one could hear was the fire cracking.

“Alicent would be too scared to come after us, the only thing she can do is order Aegon around. But, if we have enough allies secured, and we have Daeron as a bargaining chip. She would not dare have Aegon hurt him. Once word reached to her Oldtown has been burnt to ash, she will know who she is dealing with.” The last part felt like spitting fire, the flame within has been caged for too long now he was letting it out.

“If the greens do decide to fight back? What then?” Someone asked. 

“If they do decide to fight back, we still have enough dragons to outnumber them. Along with armies and allies, we can have every green’s head on a spike before the fucking moon turns.” Daemon said, his words made Y/n smile.

“We are Targaryens. If it is me who started this war, I will see it to the end. Descended from conquerors, we do not run from our fight.” 

Rhaenyra looked to her brother and smiled, same with Rhaenys through her eyes said ‘you know the consequences’. Daemon smiled, Jace, Luke, Rhaena and Baela all looked at each other knowing they would win.

Everyone else in the room begins to plot their battle strategies, seeing which allies they have and who has been secured. 

Soon enough, word had reached Alicent Hightower and her father that Oldtown had been burnt down. They say it was a black dragon that was as big as Vhagar that had done it, no one had made it out of the city. 

Alicent already knew it was Y/n, years ago Y/n told her that he knew of her family’s intention, and now she was paying the price for not taking the words seriously. Days later, a raven arrived at the Red Keep telling Alicent that her youngest son Daeron was on Dragonstone being held hostage. 

‘If you want your son back, dethrone Aegon and I will take my place as the rightful heir. I will spare your family, your children will have places in my court and no harm shall come to them. Make your decision quickly. Not much of my patience remains.’ 

That was what the letter wrote, Alicent did not know what to do. Y/n would not put her children to the sword if she surrendered, but Aegon was still on the throne and now he would not back down so easily. So, she merely told Aegon to go and speak with Y/n, bring Aemond if he wished. 

A week later, Aegon showed up with Aemond on both Sunfyre and Vhagar. Y/n had been expecting them, and so Seiphax was behind him. The dragon was now seen as bigger than Vhagar. 

“Brothers. Come to take back my hostage?” Y/n said in an unusual tone of voice.

“Give us back Daeron, and no one would get hurt.” Aegon spoke sternly. 

Y/n let out a heartful laugh before replying. “Hurt me? Have you seen Seiphax? He could destroy you both! But enough about me, you would at least want to see Daeron right?” He gestured with his hand to bring him forward.

They made Daeron kneel as he was brought forward, Aegon and Aemond were stunned to see their brother in chains. “Let him go.”

“And you promise to dethrone yourself, Aegon?” The said male stayed silent. “No, I didn't think so.” 

Meleys and Caraxes landed behind them. “So what will it be?” Aegon and Aemond both unsheathed their swords.

This battle went down in history as the one the bloodiest duels that ever happened during the Targaryen civil war. 

Y/n Targaryen had managed to disarm both Aemond and Aegon before he injured them badly that they could not even move, one of Aemond’s hands had suffered so much damage that it would not stop shaking. When given the opportunity to pick up his sword again, the sword would slip through and his hand could not even lift it. Aegon on the other hand had both of his legs broken so he could not stand, but as Y/n claimed it so that ‘you may never go back on Sunfyre and fly again.’ 

Both of Aemond’s legs had also been slashed and stabbed as well, this was done because Y/n said it was ‘your consequence of following your brother.’ 

Their dragons did not have any easier fate. 

Meleys had managed to injure Sunfyre and rip off one of its wings. 

Caraxes had almost killed Vhagar if it wasn’t for Y/n telling Daemon to stop. 

“It is Queen Visenya’s dragon, let it be. If it dies, it should die on Dragonstone, the place it was hatched.” 

Both Aegon and Aemond had stayed on Dragonstone for a few days before they left for King’s Landing. 

The smallfolk looked up and saw large shadows of multiple dragons; Seiphax, Syrax and Caraxes. Y/n, Rhaenyra and Daemon were back, Y/n had come for his throne. 

The queen stood in front of the gates with Helaena, shielding her from the three that had just landed. Rhaenyra and Daemon had dragged Aegon and Aemond beside them, the queen was horrified to see her sons broken and hurt.

“Dethrone your son Alicent.” Bringing Aegon beside him and pulling him up as he could not stand, Y/n unsheathed a dagger from his belt and put it to the underside of Aegon’s neck. “Or I will do it myself.” 

“Mother…please…” Aegon practically begged and pleaded to his mother that she do as his brother wanted. Alicent could only nod as she blinked back tears.

“Wait…where is Daeron?” She dared to ask. Y/n tilted his head as he sheathed his dagger. 

“I am true to my word unlike you. He is safe on Dragonstone, after I am crowned he will be brought here. He will be properly taken care of.” He handed Aegon over to Rhaenyra as he began to walk inside. 

Pushing open the doors of the throne room, the guards almost attacked him but then stopped as they saw their king in the hands of Rhaenyra not being able to walk, while Aemond was being held by Daemon who had Dark Sister strapped to his belt. 

Walking up the steps to the Iron Throne before he finally sat down, he had got the throne but there was something missing. And he knew what it was.

Going down to Aegon as on top of his brother’s head was still the conqueror’s crown, taking it for himself but his uncle Daemon offered to crown him. Y/n nodded as he knelt down as Daemon put the crown up on top of his nephew’s head.

This was a temporary crowning as the ceremony will be the official one that deems Y/n king of the realm. But, Y/n had a reason he wanted the crown now.

“Bring Otto Hightower to me.” He said to the guards, Daemon glared at them which made them comply, but also because of their scared queen.

Otto was soon brought into the room, looking confused before his expression turned that into a scared one. “Your grace…” Was all he could say.

“Otto, you really are a snake. My father could not see it, but I surely can. Even from a young age I could tell all you wanted was your own blood on the throne. But look here we are, your grandsons barely able to move or even just stand.” Y/n said all with a wide smile.

“You got what you wanted, but why did you burn down Oldtown?! My family had no part in this!” Otto shouted back.

“Right, it wasn’t the Starry Sept that called my family abominations. It was not Oldtown that supported Alicent to do what she did. But, that was all in the past. The real reason?” Everyone waited for his answer.

“History remembers names, not blood. If this war was fought and we still won, it would be Aegon’s name that is remembered, not mine. I needed to do something I could be remembered for when I sit on this throne. I turned Oldtown into a second Harrenhal.” The wicked smile is not leaving his face.

 Before Otto could even reply, Y/n had gestured for Daemon to put on his sword to the Hand’s neck. And with one hand gesture, Daemon slit Otto’s throat. 

“Tell servants to clean up the mess. Take Aegon and Aemond to the maester to get treated, I have other things I must see to.” Was all Y/n said as he left the room.

Daemon and Rhaenyra looked at each other before nodding, they would go back to Dragonstone to prepare for everything else. 

Seven days passed before Y/n Targaryen was officially crowned as the ruler of Westeros and of the Seven Kingdoms as a whole, they found a septon that had remained in King’s Landing to host it. Daemon may or may not have threatened him a bunch of times.

During the coronation, Y/n’s family all stood to the side. His half-siblings on one, while Rhaenyra and Daemon and his nephews stood to the other. 

“Y/n Targaryen, First of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.” 

With that, the conqueror’s crown was placed on his head. Looking to the crowd as he unsheathed Blackfyre. The crowd cheered for him as they saw the rise of their new king. Daemon was now his hand and so was Rhaenyra, it was the only time in Targaryen history that a single king had two hand of the king. 

Aegon and Aemond were given places in court as Masters of Whispers, Helaena became Rhaenyra’s lady-in-waiting, Daeron was with his brothers but he became a personal guard to court. To Y/n, they were still family and in their youth they had been friends at one point. 

Alicent. She was basically on house arrest as she was not allowed to leave the Keep. Her children took care of her as she grew older. 

Y/n never did marry. He refused to have children, and as he was crowned he made it so that his sister would succeed him if he died, and Daemon would be king consort alongside her. Then, Jacereys would take after her. 

Aegon and Aemond never again flew on their dragons nor did they ever pick up a sword, but they knew they were already spared from their brother’s executioner. Same with Daeron as well. All three men knew they were already far from the flames of Seiphax.

The Targaryen civil war that would be known as the dance of the dragons would go down in history, however, the final act to end the war for everyone to remember is that Prince Y/n Targaryen burnt down Oldtown and the Starry Sept beyond repair. But also, he would be remembered for ending the entire Hightower bloodline single-handedly, turning that city into a second Harrenhal. 

His dragon will also be remembered as they lived beyond the king’s years. 

Seiphax; the second Balerion.

Y/n Targaryen would go down in history being remembered as a king. 

His title?

King Y/n ‘two-faced’ Targaryen. First of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.

The unpredictable king. The virgin king. The second conqueror. 

But one thing was for sure.

He mended House Targaryen so they forever stood strong. 

Y/n Targaryen was the true blood of Old Valyria. Just like his ancestors, he was a true Targaryen. 

[queenshelby]

Forbidden Desire (Part Eleven)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader (Female/Incestuous)

Warnings: Incest (at this stage accidental), Age Gap, PTSD, Domestic Abuse, Self-Harm, Fluff, Smut

After the earth-shattering revelation that Thomas Shelby was your long-lost uncle, your world was turned upside down. The truth weighed heavily upon your shoulders, casting a dark cloud of desire and forbidden love that enveloped your every thought.

Yearning for a real father figure and a sense of belonging, you found solace in Arthur's attempts to embrace you as his own. Yet, deep within, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions tugged at your heart. The news of Arthur being your father was a bitter pill to swallow, especially as you had already fallen under the spell of Thomas. Despite the twisted nature of your newfound familial ties, an undeniable thrill coursed through your veins at the mere thought of him.

Polly, ever perceptive, was aware of your forbidden desires. In due course, she orchestrated your induction into the Shelby Family, much to your mother's displeasure. In the midst of a family gathering, you were welcomed as an equal, officially cementing your place within the Shelby clan.

Within weeks, Polly took you under her wing, unveiling the intricacies of the Shelby name. She showed you how to navigate the treacherous waters of their empire, providing you with the tools to forge your own path. In her tutelage, you learned the art of negotiation and gained the confidence to command respect from those who once stood above you. Your transformation did not go unnoticed, as your newfound assertiveness radiated like a beacon.

Linda, resentful of Arthur for allowing your rise within the Shelby Company Limited, would often remark, "You truly are a Shelby." In the bustling office, you commanded attention with your sharp wit and no-nonsense attitude. Even the other Peaky Blinders marvelled at your ability to tackle any challenge that crossed your path. Your formidable uncle, Tommy, couldn't help but be drawn to this "new you."

"I see you've settled right in, taking charge like a true fucking Shelby," Tommy proclaimed proudly upon his return from the United States, where he had forged an alliance with Al Capone.

A mischievous twinkle danced in your eyes as you replied, "Indeed, Tommy," fully aware of the captivating presence you now possessed. Tommy's gaze lingered upon you, unable to tear himself away from the magnetic force you had become.

As such, his desire for you quickly resurfaced when he returned to the office after you had last seen him three weeks ago, and this desire was now becoming stronger with each day.

Your desire for your newfound uncle, however, had never really been extinguished even though, deep down, you knew that this forbidden infatuation could never be. The more you tried to fight it, the harder it seemed to resist.

Now that he was back in Birmingham, this was going to be problematic, and you could not help but tease him, making sure that he knew that you still did not care about the fact that he was your uncle.

Thus, one day, as you were engrossed in analysing some financial documents, you became aware of a pair of intense eyes fixed upon you. Raising your gaze, you caught Thomas giving you that infamous Shelby smirk, glimmering with a mixture of admiration and something darker.

"Enjoying the view, Tommy?" you quipped, unable to resist the temptation of toying with your uncle and letting him know that you knew he was watching you. After all, power breeds confidence, and confidence tempts fate.

Thomas leaned against the door frame, his voice dripping with the perfect blend of arrogance and desire. "The view is quite remarkable indeed, but it's not the scenery that has captured my attention, Love," he mused, and the air between you crackled with an intoxicating mix of tension and attraction.

“I didn’t think it was, uncle,” you teased and little did you realise just how deeply Tommy still desired you, his thoughts consumed by the forbidden possibilities.

***

As days turned into weeks, though, the flirtation between you and your uncle escalated. The stolen glances, lingering touches, and suggestive banter left a trail of electric anticipation in the air.

However, Tommy, consumed by his position and familial responsibilities, fought tooth and nail to keep the burgeoning attraction at bay. He knew all too well the dangers of allowing desires to steer his course, especially when they involved his own flesh and blood.

Reminding yourself of the bond you shared as a family, you tried to suppress the growing feelings within you as well. This was a line that should never be crossed again, no matter how tempting it may be.

One evening, though, as the sun dipped below the Birmingham skyline, you found yourself alone with your uncle in his dimly lit office. The cogs of desire turned ceaselessly in both of your minds, threatening to break free from their self-imposed restraints.

"You know damn well what you're doing to me, don't you Love?" Tommy whispered his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine.

“I do, Thomas and I am enjoying it. You were the first man I have ever slept with, and I most certainly don’t have any regrets, even after finding out that we are related,” you smirked before a moment of tense silence hung heavy in the air like a thick fog, the unspoken truth lingering between you. The forbidden fruit was tantalisingly close, the taste both bitter and alluring.

“But, I respect your decision. I know how important the elections are for the company, and I also know how important you are to this family of which I am now part. So, I won’t stand in your way,” you reassured your uncle, your voice filled with a mixture of admiration and apprehension. The weight of the upcoming elections for the company and the significance of your role as a member of this esteemed family was not lost on you. You knew that your uncle's leadership was crucial, and you didn't want to impede his progress.

As he stepped closer, his presence enveloped you, and you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. It sent shivers down your spine, igniting a desire that surged through your veins. The intensity of your emotions was almost overwhelming, but you managed to maintain your composure.

His response was immediate, his voice dripping with an intoxicating blend of passion and confidence. "You could never stand in my way, Love," Tommy declared, his gaze locked with yours. It was as if time stood still at that moment, and you couldn't help but feel a wave of vulnerability wash over you.

A shy smile played on your lips as you absorbed his words. "No?" you whispered, your voice barely audible. Tommy's hand gently caressed your face, his touch both tender and possessive.

"No, never," he assured you, his smile radiant as he pulled away slightly. He seemed to savour the tension between you, revelling in the unspoken connection that bound you together. "I have a gift for you," he revealed, his voice filled with anticipation.

With a delicate flourish, he presented you with a beautifully wrapped parcel. The vibrant green satin dress nestled within shimmered in the soft glow of the room. Its luxurious fabric seemed to come alive, whispering promises of elegance and allure. It was a testament to the exquisite taste and attention to detail that Tommy possessed.

You couldn't help but be captivated by the dress, its beauty mirroring the complexity of your emotions. It symbolised the delicate balance between duty and desire, representing the choices you were faced with in this intricate dance of power and love.

"Before I knew that you were my niece, I had something special planned for your birthday. This no longer seems appropriate now as it involved a date at the pictures and several hours of fucking. But I wanted you to have this dress anyway, as it was custom-made for you. It should fit you perfectly, and perhaps you could wear it at your birthday party next week,” Tommy exclaimed, hearted.

The beauty of the dress filled you with conflicted emotions - gratitude, desire, and a tinge of sadness. You couldn't ignore the fact that Thomas had desired you before discovering your blood connection. It was a bittersweet gift, a reminder of the love that could never be.

***

The day of your birthday had finally arrived, and Polly spared no expense in hosting a lavish celebration for their newest member. Arrow House was adorned with twinkling lights and fragrant roses, the grandeur of the occasion evident in every glittering detail.

As you walked down the sweeping staircase adorned in the green satin dress gifted to you by your own uncle, the room fell silent. All eyes were on you, the long-lost daughter of Arthur Shelby, now officially welcomed into the Shelby Family.

The dress clung to your curves, accentuating every tantalising inch of you. Thomas, unable to resist the sight before him, felt his desire for you intensify with each step you took. It was as if the very air around him crackled with a forbidden energy.

He couldn't tear his gaze away, mesmerised by your beauty. He cursed himself for the wicked thoughts that danced through his mind, yearning to touch and taste what he knew he could never have again.

The music swirled through the room, a melody of voices and laughter, yet all Thomas could hear was the pounding of his own heart, a wild beat that threatened to expose his desires to the world.

In a quiet corner of Arrow House, beneath a veil of shadows, you mustered the courage to approach Tommy to thank him for his generous gift. The ache within you had become unbearable, the desire to kiss him consuming your every thought.

“Thank you for the dress,” you told him almost shyly as his penetrating gaze met yours, and you could see the struggle in his eyes.

“You are welcome, Love,” Tommy responded as he looked at you, desire mixed with guilt, creating a tempestuous storm within his troubled soul.

"You look stunning in it, just as I had anticipated,” he whispered, his voice tinged with need. It was a dangerous game he was playing, his words a tantalising invitation into the forbidden depths of his desires.

Lizzie Stark, who had harboured affection for Thomas for years and who was carrying his child, watched your interaction with a mix of envy and resentment. The rivalry between you and Lizzie had always existed, but now it had become intertwined with the complex tapestry of desire and blood that bound Thomas to you.

She knew about past intimacy between you and Tommy and thought that all of this was in the past now that you were part of the family.

“Lizzie is clearly still worried about you and me,” you smirked, causing Tommy to chuckle as you both noticed her eyes on you.

“Well, Lizzie has always had a dislike for women I am associating myself with, and you are clearly no exception,” Tommy acknowledged, causing you to laugh.

“But you are not associating yourself with me anymore. She, of all persons, should know that now that she reminds me of our family bond every day, referring to you as my fucking uncle,” you said with some annoyance in your voice, causing Tommy to chuckle.

“Does she now?” Tommy chuckled, causing you to nod.

“Yes, Uncle Tommy. She does. And perhaps you should have a word with her about it and tell her to stop being so pitiful,” you told Tommy before you beckoned him with a mischievous smile.

“Now come, I need to show you something,” you then told your uncle before leading him upstairs to one of the guestrooms in Arrow House, and as Tommy followed you silently, desire burned hot between you, pulsating with a fierce urgency.

“Show me what, Love?” Tommy ought to enquire as, confidently, you pulled him into the empty room before, in the dimly lit corner, you pressed your lips against his with a passionate fervour, your hands exploring his body with a mixture of longing and desperation.

It was a kiss laden with desperation, a passionate struggle against the convictions that threatened to tear you apart. For a fleeting moment, nothing else mattered, and the world outside that room ceased to exist.

But just as quickly as it had begun, Thomas pulled away, his face a maelstrom of regret and self-reproach. "No," he said, his voice ragged and filled with torment.

His grip on your shoulders tightened as he tried to find the words. "Y/N, I am your fucking uncle,” he said, his voice thick with anguish. It was a reminder that echoed through your mind, a harsh reality that threatened to shatter the fragile illusion of forbidden love.

“Yes, I know, but it is also my birthday, and I am already drunk on the champagne,” you told him, realising once again how much you still loved him as, in your eyes, disappointment mingled with frustration.

Thomas looked torn, his resolve waning under the weight of his desires. But his sense of duty fought fiercely against the raw passion that had entwined your souls. It was a battle for his moral compass, and he knew it would forever change the dynamic of the family if he surrendered to temptation.

"I can't Love. It's not just about us. It's about my fucking reputation, the elections, and everything that holds our family together, and you fucking know that, don’t you, eh" he repeated again, using the same words that he used on you two weeks ago. His voice was heavy with self-restraint. His eyes bore into yours, an unspoken promise of love and longing, even as he denied himself the pleasure of surrendering.

The corner was filled with unspoken words, thick with regret and longing. The world faded away, leaving only the two of you caught in a web of desire and familial ties. The room buzzed with excitement, oblivious to the intricate dance of passion being performed in that secluded space.

Frustration coiled within you, growing with each passing second. The truth of your blood connection was like a spectre haunting your every thought. The intensity and complexity of your feelings made it difficult to see beyond the throbbing ache in your heart.

Thomas abruptly stepped back, creating distance between you as he battled conflicting emotions. He turned away, his jaw clenching with determination. "I'm sorry. I should've never allowed it to go this far," he said, his voice heavy with self-loathing, not even realising that you both were being watched.

Without another word, Thomas walked away, leaving you standing there, trembling with a potent mix of desire, frustration, and heartbreak. He walked toward the door, his footsteps weighted with regret.

As he turned the doorknob, you couldn't hold back the desperation in your voice. "Thomas, please... don't leave me here. Not like this, on my fucking birthday,” you begged, and Thomas froze at the threshold, his resolve wavering for a precious moment. His eyes were lost in a tempest of conflicting emotions. But then, with a final sigh, he stepped out into the dimly lit hallway, leaving you alone in the room, your heart shattered.

Tears streamed down your face as you collapsed onto the bed, the weight of the forbidden desire crushing you. You wondered if you could ever find a way to navigate this treacherous path, one that defied both morality and convention.

Unbeknownst to you, as you lay broken and defeated, Thomas stood at the end of the hallway. His fists clenched, his features twisted in anguish. The battle within him waged on, torn between the love he knew was wrong and the restraint he knew was correct.

Lying there, adrift in a sea of despair, you wondered how it had come to this. How had fate forged such an intricate web, weaving together desire, longing, and the damning truth of your shared blood?

You felt like you had been short-changed by life, and after wiping away your tears, you, too, put on a solid face to return to the party downstairs.

Lizzie Stark, her eyes filled with triumph and pity, brushed past you on your way down to the ballroom, her voice barely concealing her smug satisfaction. "Tommy will never truly be yours. Blood is thicker than desire,” she barked, and you resisted the urge to confront Lizzie, unable to find the words to refute her taunts.

The weight of Thomas's rejection bore down on you, suffocating your spirit and casting a dark cloud over the extravagant celebration that had once held so much promise.

As you meandered through the festivities, your mind raced with thoughts of escape. Perhaps leaving Birmingham was the only way to mend your shattered heart. But even as you entertained the notion, a part of you clung to the hope that maybe, just maybe, love could conquer all in the end until, somewhat suddenly, you were approached by a man you had not met before. His name was Liam O’Connor, and he was the newest member of the Peaky Blinders. Handsome, tall and dangerous.

[blackypanther9]

I keep my words

WARNING!: Blood x gore, murder, cursing, violence, graphic (?) murder scenes AND MORE ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !!!

TAGLIST: @l0liamk @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved

(I hope the tags work TvT)

A/N: This is the second part of “I’ll protect you”. Art belongs to rightful owner (I just get this shit from Google)

Words: 3 401

It had been three days, since M/n’s breakdown and when he vented to Alastor about how bad his biological parents really were. As soon as Alastor did his job, he grabbed a sleeping M/n and returned back home. The next day they got a restriction order against M/n’s biological parents and then Alastor let another day pass.

This was day three and he was ready to kill them. His adopted Son told him where they lived and he spied on them the last day. They were arranging everything to make a kill and run. They had weapons and started to pack their things. They were really planning to kill him and M/n and then to run away.

‘Not while I am still alive.’, Alastor thought grimly.

He told M/n the lie, that he had to get to his job without him, it was a last minute call. The boy pouted, but let him go, after Alastor tucked him into bed for an early night rest. Alastor wore the clothes he usually wore when he went killing, hunting knife with him.

He made his way to M/n’s former home. The house was pretty far away from any neighbors, hence why no one knew what happened in that house. He saw an open window and rolled his eyes.

Why would any idiot leave their window wide open in the middle of the night, knowing a killer is on the loose too ?

Alastor climbed inside through the window and took the cold frying pan, that was on the stove. He sneaked around and saw Fred L/n first. He went right behind him and then swung the pan with all his might.

BAM !

Fred flinched in shock, then passed out and hit the floor. Alastor had so much rage and disgust in his eyes for that man. He reminded him of his own Father. Vile !

“Fred, honey ? What happened ?”, Gorgia’s voice called.

Alastor quickly hid in the shadows, almost invisible, thanks to the poor light and dark clothes he wore. She came down the stairs and soon entered the room, she sighed in annoyance.

“Again ? Why are you such a heavy drinker ?”, she complained.

As soon as she wasn’t looking anywhere near Alastor’s direction anymore, he dashed out of the shadows and slammed the frying pan into her head too. She yelped in pain and then was passed out on the floor.

Alastor panted softly and eyed her with as much rage and disgust as he eyed Fred, while he had a sinister grin on his face, the whole time. He was so ready to kill them. And he won’t make it quick, oh, no, no, no~

-Time skip-

Alastor tied Fred and Gorgia up in their basement, remembering that his adopted Son mentioned that it was the most vile place, in the house, and the place they loved to torture him most in, with Linda.

He waited for them to wake up already. While he waited he looked around in the house, looking for diaries, pictures anything they had that revolved around their kids. Nothing of these sorts were there. It was like they never had children to begin with, which angered him even more.

Then there was a yell and Alastor grinned more sadistically. He returned to the basement and saw them both wide awake, trying to get out of their bounds. They stopped when they saw Alastor.

“Who are you ?!”, Fred hollered in anger.

“Please, untie us !”, Gorgia begged.

Alastor chuckled at first then it turned into a full cackle. He looked at Gorgia’s pathetic face. She had tears and snot running down her face.

“My, oh my~ For the big mouth you had, on my Radio Show, you seem very pathetic now.”, Alastor said to Gorgia with a voice full of disgust.

The two adult’s eyes widened. Gorgia was in utter shock and horror, while Fred scoffed and glared even harder. Then he struggled even harder.

“I will KILL you, you Bastard ! That damn brat was supposed to DIE !”, Fred hollered.

Alastor laughed and played with his hunting knife. The two froze again and looked at the object, Alastor wielded. He shot them a sinister grin.

“You know, that’s funny, my good man ! Since when do we blame our own children for our own actions, hmm ? Do tell~”, Alastor teased out.

Fred scoffed with a glare.

“That mistake had it coming, let her own Sister get taken and killed and then dared to blame it all on us !”, he yelled.

“And he was very useless and unhelpful in the house.”, Gorgia added.

Alastor rolled his eyes, but his sinister smile never fell. He ran his fingers up and down the side of his blade.

“Hmm, I have to disagree with you there ! You see, since the kid has been with me, he proved himself rather useful, helps around a lot and even provides some entertainment ! And what was the boy supposed to do, as his Sister got taken, hmm ? He tried to chase down the car and even notified the police. You are the adults, you were supposed to be their guardians, yet here you are, proving to me that you are nothing more but worthless scum !”, Alastor said happily.

“Watch it, shit talker !”, Fred threatened with a growl.

Alastor laughed and then gave the man a piercing, daring glare. One, that made Gorgia gulp in fear. He came closer and put the tip of his hunting knife near Fred’s throat.

“Or what~?”, Alastor asked in a teasing, yet challenging tone.

Fred didn’t back down and glared at Alastor.

“Or I will kill you in a very painful way, Fucker.”, Fred sneered out.

Alastor gave him a lips closed sharp grin, then cocked his head to his right, partly amused.

“Oh, really ?”, he asked in a tone, that said he didn’t take the threat seriously.

“Really, Bastard. You are too much of a little wet Pussy to kill one of us. You are just fucking bluffing.”, Fred stated with a smirk.

“Are you sure about that~?”

Fred gave him a wolfish grin and nodded. Alastor didn’t drop his smirk as he moved his hunting knife.

“AACK !!”, Fred gasped in pain.

Gorgia screamed and sobbed, while Alastor gave him that same grin, his hunting knife in Fred’s lower stomach. The man looked back up at Alastor, fear and pain evident in his eyes. Alastor chuckled and playfully tutted at him.

“You should never be too confidant, Fred L/n~ Now look what you made me do, my good man ! Oh, such a terrible deed, indeedy !”, Alastor mocked with a happy voice.

Before the man could reply or beg, Alastor dragged his knife up, more blood spilled, Fred let out strangled screams, while Gorgia was wailing. Alastor’s smile grew more and more sinister the higher he sliced with his knife. He tore it out as it was at his sternum, forcefully, then he stepped back and Fred’s organs started to fall out, he gargled on his own blood and pain, while Gorgia screeched in terror at the display.

She stared at Alastor in horror. He still had his eyes on her Husband, relishing in the scene he created. She saw that his eyes didn’t seem brown anymore, like they were before, but from the angle she looked at his eyes now...they seemed to be red. It terrified her.

Alastor laughed at the still slowly dying Fred. He looked at his hunting knife amused and satisfied.

“Do you know...that the human body can suffer like this for many hours ? My good man, you are going to die slowly for long, long minutes !”, Alastor informed them both.

“No ! No, please ! He already can’t be saved anymore ! Please, at least end his suffering !”, Gorgia pleaded.

Alastor snapped his head to look at her, close lipped smile still there, eyes wide, but it wasn’t from surprise, it was from bloodlust and to show that he is all ears. He put his blood covered, yet gloved, hand on his chin, mocking to be thinking about it.

“Hmmm....No.”, he replied as he grinned at her, flashing his teeth at her.

She stared at Fred helplessly. She was wailing as she knew, that she couldn’t change the Radio Host’s mind.

“Why are you crying, hmm ? It’s not like he will leave you ! And you won’t die all alone either ! See that as a merciful act !”, he said happily, mocking her.

She knew that he wanted to kill her too, maybe she can weasel herself out of it...

“I’ll do anything you want, if you don’t kill me ! Anything, I promise !”, she begged.

Alastor looked at her amused.

“HA ! No.”, he replied.

“Please ! I can be useful !”, she tried to change his mind.

“Hmmm... No.”, he answered again, with a shit eating grin.

“I can show you a good time !”, she tried as her last resort.

It always worked when she offered her body, but not with this man. The Radio Host recoiled, like he was smacked, and stared at her.

“No, thank you. I don’t need a harlot. Not interested in such things, who knows how many diseases you have, from having spend some nights with other men. I don’t wish to be infected.”, he denied.

He felt revolted in disgust at that suggestion, in his mind. Who did that woman think she was ? Hot shit ?

“Please reconsider-!”

“Dear...do you ever shut up ?”, Alastor asked with his happy tone.

Underneath that happy tone, Alastor was annoyed and fuming. Gorgia was sobbing loudly and it was ugly, which annoyed Alastor even more. At first it was fun and entertaining, now it was boring and annoying as hell.

He went in front of her tied up form and she whimpered, trying to quiet down. Before she could plead again, the Bayou Killer boxed her into the throat. It knocked her breath away and she wheezed. She tried to talk again, but her voice was barely audible.

“Much better, Dear !”, Alastor cheerily said and left her side again.

The Radio Host took the fallen out organs one by one and started to decorate the basement with them, which made the woman wail silently, while Fred was still slowly dying. Alastor hummed happily as he decorated, thinking about a way to torture Gorgia to her end.

Then he got his sadistic idea and his smile, which seemed to get even more sinister than before, said that it was a fantastic one.

“After I am done decorating with these organs, you better pray that I am not missing something as decoration, otherwise you will have to pay the price, Harlot !”, Alastor informed her happily.

More tears fell and she stared at the Killer in fear.

After a few minutes he was done and looked around, tapping his chin in thought.

“Hmm...Oh goodness, this won’t do !”, he said disapprovingly.

He waited a bit, then spoke again, hearing her quick breaths and sniffles.

“I am missing a few things, such a scoundrel !”, Alastor exclaimed in mock disappointment.

At that the woman had big eyes of terror and she sobbed harder. Alastor slowly approached her.

“Seems like, I have to take the other decorations from you, Darling~”, he said and drew out his hunting knife again.

She shook her head, wheezing out pleads, that fell on deaf ears. The Killer looked at her left hand, that was tied up and his eyes flashed. She saw the red hue again in his brown eyes and she shivered in fear.

He gave her a smile, that might have looked charming, if he wouldn’t be killing her right now. He grabbed her left hand and made her straighten out her pointer finger, then he slammed his hunting knife down, while she struggled and pleaded more, knowing what he will do.

Her voice seemed to return as she screamed in pain, as he chopped off her left pointer finger. It hit the floor, but Alastor was far from done.

“Perfect, nine more to go.”, he said darkly.

She screamed and begged, struggled and wailed for mercy. But Alastor didn’t care and continued. Each time he chopped off a finger, she screamed in agony and his sadistic grin grew.

-Time skip-

Gorgia was sobbing and hiccupping as Alastor finished decorating the entrance to the Basement, with her chopped off fingers. He would have loved to detach more from her body, but he had no saw or axe and he was also running out of time. He laughed as he saw Gorgia’s and Fred’s miserable faces.

He drew his hunting knife and approached them with a sinister grin. Fred passed out for a few seconds about three minutes ago, now he was back awake, and weak.

“Hmm...who am I going to kill first ? Will I kill you or your husband first ? I don’t know...”, Alastor feigned conflicted.

“If you...kill us both anyways....then why does it matter....who dies first ?”, Gorgia got out weakly, her voice hoarse and weak from all the screaming and wailing.

“The first one will be able to go first, free of their pain of course ! It matters, because I can’t decide who shall be relieved first. I am a Gentleman usually and that would mean, that you would be the first one to go, but at the same time, you hurt both of your kids an awful lot and didn’t suffer as long as your husband. He suffered longer and is in more pain, but he physically abused his kids more than I would like to have known. So...I have a very big issue now.”

He wanted to see if Gorgia was selfish. She looked at her husband, even though she cheated on him a few times, she didn’t hate him. She looked at Alastor, determined.

“Kill him first.”, she said.

He didn’t show it, but Alastor was surprised. She chose him over her, at least she had a little bit of love for him there. He went in front of Fred and Gorgia screwed her eyes shut, as Alastor shoved his hand inside her husband’s chest and ripped his heart out. Fred’s body stiffened for a second, then went slack. He was dead.

Alastor threw the heart against the basement wall to his left. As it made contact it popped, like a water balloon, and painted the wall red. He approached Gorgia and made her look at the spot, the heart popped. She sobbed again, but no tears can be shed anymore.

“I am impressed that you chose him to die first, I’ll admit that. Even though you two were pigs, I suppose for that one I cut you some slack, Madam.”, Alastor told her, amused.

She looked at him, before she could say anything else, she gasped in pain and wheezed. Alastor drove his hunting knife into her stomach, his grin sadistic and his chocolate brown eyes holding a red hue in them. Then he continuously tore his knife out and stabbed her again. She was gargling on her own blood, Alastor was covered in it, but he didn’t stop.

He only stopped as her body had gone limp long ago and she had at least 120 stab wounds in her torso. It didn’t take long for him to recover, catch his breath, make sure he left no evidence of himself behind and then to leave the house the way he entered, to return home.

As he arrived back at home, he rushed to the bathroom and threw his clothes into the bathtub, then let in cold water. After his clothes were soaking in the cold water, where he added a bit of cleaner inside, he jumped into the shower and showered the blood on his body off.

Then he cleaned his clothes and hung them over the heater in the room, letting them dry. He checked on M/n after that, who was still sleeping, and then he went to bed himself. Sleep quickly consumed him as the blood rush and adrenaline went down.

-Three days later-

The police didn’t find the bodies yet, which was good and at the same time irritating, in Alastor’s opinion. M/n didn’t sleep properly last night, but wanted to come with him to work anyways, so the Radio Host packed a pillow and fluffy blanket into a small bag, just in case. M/n was snuggled into it at the moment, napping the day away.

Alastor lifted his cup of coffee to drink and was shocked when nothing entered his mouth. He looked into his mug.

‘Already empty ? Guess I have to refill it. M/n will be fine alone for five minutes, right ?’

Alastor was worried and conflicted. He knew his Boss was busy, but he never took any chances since he knew that he was...INTERESTED in M/n, if you catch the drift. He looked at the door and then back at M/n. Then the male took a deep breath and got up, opened the door and left.

‘Only five minutes. Nothing will happen to him in five minutes.’, Alastor tried to reassure himself, to calm his nerves.

He was soon at the Coffee machine and prepared his beverage.

‘Only five minutes...’

-Five minutes later-

As he returned he froze in shock and rage. In his office, was his Boss, in front of M/n’s sleeping body, blanket pulled away. The pervert stared at M/n’s ass, like it was dessert. Alastor had to do something ! Quick !

He can’t stand up against his Boss, without getting fired. He had a mixed skin color and not white, his Boss was and he was just as racist as almost the rest of New Orleans.

He carefully set his mug down on the floor, not making a sound. Then he pulled out a switchblade from his pants’ pocket, he flipped it open, then quietly approached his Boss, who had his back still towards him. Just as that perverted old man was about to touch Alastor’s adopted Son’s thighs, the Radio Host slammed the knife down and into his Boss’ head.

The man jerked up and tried to yell, but Alastor covered his mouth quickly and then tore him away from M/n, who was luckily still asleep. He tore him to the small closet that was in Alastor’s office and then slit his throat. Renold Floyd started to choke on his own blood and his life was draining fast from him. Alastor closed the closet door behind him, glaring at his dying, soon to be, ex Boss.

“Don’t touch my fucking child, you vile pig.”, Alastor growled out.

Renold tried to fight against his fate, but he soon enough was dead anyways. Alastor scoffed and then exited the closet, locking the door in case. He checked his clothes and there was no blood stain on him. Good.

He looked at M/n. His Son.

In shock he shook his head. What was he thinking ?! M/n is NOT his Son !

He looked at the boy again, who was unaware and sleeping peacefully. He was safe and sound. It warmed the Killer’s heart.

Yes...M/n is his Son. HIS only. No one is allowed to touch him.

‘I promised that I will never let anyone else hurt you or even touch you, without your consent. I swore to you, to protect you. I am planning to keep these promises, my Son.’

He approached the sleeping boy and pulled the blanket back over his small body.

‘I always keep my words. I will protect you, no matter what, until the day I die.’

He gave a soft kiss onto M/n’s forehead, which made the boy smile in his sleep softly. It almost killed Alastor. The boy was so much cuteness at once. The man smiled in adoration, then he collected his mug of coffee and sat back down on his microphone, waiting to get back on air.

He knew that his Son will be safe with him.

Always.

Masterlist HERE !

[outsideratheart]

The Bet (Alexia Putellas x reader)

A/N: Based off this request

“Chicas!” You shout just before the team return to the pitch for the second half “here’s a little incentive for you in case lifting that trophy isn’t enough. If we win this then I will get a tattoo to celebrate” 

The look of disbelief on every player’s face would have been funny under any other circumstance but you wanted them to know that you were very serious. Your body was a blank canvas and getting a tattoo never interested you even when some of your closest friends begged you to get one. Ink wasn’t really your thing, hair dye on the other hand well that was how you expressed yourself. You had tried every colour under the sun and then repeated it. 

Alexia on the other hand loved to use her body as art and every single tattoo on her skin told a story. Her hair up until her injury had been brunette. When you told her that her tearing her ACL is like a bad break up, she has to learn to move on so he decided to do the typical thing after any break up, she died her hair and you loved the blonde more than the previous colour. 

Knowing that you and Alexia have a competitive relationship they all looked at their captain to see if she would rise to your bet.

“You know what! If we go out there and pull off one of the greatest comebacks in Champions League history I will die my hair” 

The team couldn’t believe what they are hearing. 

Your word was your bond and you never went back on your word. Alexia was a woman who when made a promise, always kept it. It made you both incredibly trustworthy but as the final whistle is blown you cannot help but think your good word had gotten you in trouble.

“We won” Alexia pulled you close as you walked over to where your families were.

“Baby, we’re fucked! We can’t go back on this” Inside you were panicking. Alexia’s promise could be temporary but yours was permanent.

“Don’t be such a wuss. How about this? You can pick my hair colour if I get it pick your tattoo”

You loved half of this plan. You already had a colour in mind but whilst you did trust Alexia with your life, you couldn’t guarantee that her choosing what is going to be on your body for the rest of your life is a good idea.

“Trust me, you’ll like what I have planned”

“Fine but you’re dying your hair pink”

Alexia’s eyes widen at your choice of colour but having been the person to suggest the idea, she couldn’t exactly go back on it now.

After playing Panama, the national team was given three days off before having to report back to camp. Alexia had told you that she had designed your tattoo with the help of Mapi and she had booked an appointment for you at the studio where her and the rest of the girls go for their tattoos. You had also made a call to your hair stylist and asked them if they could squeeze Alexia in the morning before you would get your tattoo in the afternoon.

“And this woman knows what she’s doing” on the outside Alexia was cool as a cucumber but as you walk down the streets of Barcelona she is holding onto your hand for dear life.

“She has been doing my hair for years Alexia. You are in safe hands”

You walked into the salon and greeted everyone as if they were family. Alexia stayed close behind you as you guide her to the chair in the fair back corner. 

“So what are we doing doing?” Your hair stylist ran her fingers through Alexia’s hair as your girlfriend looked at you through the mirror.

“Pink but a light pink”

“What! No! If I’m doing this then I’m doing it. I want it like Y/N’s after her first appointment post COVID”

“Ale, that was really pink” 

“I know, I loved it” 

The hair stylist did as she was told and a couple of hours later Alexia was walking out the salon almost unrecognisable.

Now it was your turn and you felt sick as you walked in the studio which was tucked down one of the side street in Sants.

“Does it hurt? It’s got to hurt, there is a needle piercing your skin at 100 miles an hour and it’s injecting ink. Oh God! Why did I even agree to do this, I can’t do this”

“Y/N take a breath” Alexia’s hands rested on your shoulders. She took a deep breath in, one which you copied almost immediately “I think you will really like my design and if you don’t then we will tell the team that I made you get it on your bum which they will believe because—“

“You are obsessed with my bum” you finished your girlfriend’s sentence.

“I am so they will believe me but please take a look at the design”

“Ok”

The artist, who you had learnt was also the owner, sat you down on the sofa as she showed you the design and at different sizes. You had no control over the smile on your face as you saw what Alexia had come up with.

“It’s like yours” 

“It is. I thought why not kill two birds with one stone. The tattoo would commemorate the final and it would be a matching one to mine”

The tattoo was perfect. It was an outline of a basic flower within a square. The pattern was seen all around Barcelona as it was a tile that covered the pavement. Alexia has the same one on her back with ‘made in’ above it. Yours wouldn’t have the text and instead of the ink being black it would be blue and red, Blaugrana the colours of FC Barcelona.

Once laid on the bench Alexia offered to hold your hand in case the pain is too much.

“Is it really going to hurt that much?” You ask the tattoo artist who reassured you that the pain would be nothing compared to some of the tackles you have been on the receiving end of over the years.

“Ale!” You smack her with your free hand.

“Sorry. It’s just that i’m used to seeing you as this tough cookie”

“I’m never a tough cookie around you, you make me soft” 

Alexia kisses you softly, the two of you forgetting your surroundings until the artist clears her throat.

“Soft cookie or tough cookie, I do need to to sit still or this won’t end well”

“Don’t say that” Don’t tell her that” you and Alexia say at the same time.

When the two of your arrived back to Los Rojas two days later the entire team was in shock and fascinated to see Alexia’s pink hair but only the barcelona players knew about your side of the bet. You removed your hoodie to show them the tattoo which you had decided to get on your arm, just about your elbow. 

[slvttyplum]

༘⋆✿ can’t be in one room with you and stand on different sides. | choso | inspired by bryson tiller- finesse.

The sounds of shoes clicking on the floor and chattering, you looked across the room and saw Choso looking directly at you.

You grin and he grins back, the both of you have been doing this all night.

You’ll go to look at him, but you’ll see he’s already staring and the both of you smile at each other.

It was hell.

You wanted to be with him, explore the art together; debut his new piece together, but you didn’t want to ruin his career… him.

Deciding not to ruin anything, you opt out when he suggests the two of you go together. So there you are, getting small glances of him any chance you get.

“You know him?” a voice asks on the side of you. Quickly turning your head, stood an old lady with a pink sweater.

“Ah… no no, I know of him though.” You say smiling. She was cute.

“That’s my daughter's favorite artists, she talks about him all the time.” She says, tapping her cane and turning towards you.

You smile to yourself at the thought of him being someone’s favorite. It made your heart flutter.

He’s been wanting this for a long time, his pieces to connect to some, speak to them, make them feel something.

“That’s so sweet. He has nice pieces.” You say, looking down at her shirt, when you get a glimpse of it your heart beats out your chest.

It was his crotchet piece he sold over three years ago. A big cheesy smile plasters on your face.

“Where’d you get this?” you say, your voice croaking with excitement. The older woman looks at you smiling, sliding her hand over the material.

“It’s my granddaughters. She gave it to me because she said it complimented my face.” her hand swooping under her chin, making a face.

You laugh, eyeing the sweater. You feel eyes staring at the side of you; you turn your head and there’s cholo staring at you again.

It was killing him. He wanted you to touch you, have people walk up to the both of you, asking about your relationship.

But he was happy.

He loved the way you would smile with that cheeky smile of yours whenever you caught him smiling.

He loved the way you lift your hand up no higher than your waist, waving and giving him a wave and thumbs up.

He loved the way you admired his work in awe, complimenting every paintbrush stroke on the canvas.

He loved the way he loved you.

Your eyes flicker when you see him walking towards the both of you. You turn your head back to the older woman who’s still looking at you, adjusting her glasses.

“That’s the artist that made your sweater. You should speak with him.” You say, your voice croaking again.

She smiles at you, putting her hand on your arm, squeezing it in comfort. “You should be the one to talk to him, hun.”

You tilt your head with narrow eyes, letting out an awkward chuckle, “sorry?”

She laughs, rubbing her thumb over your arm in small circles. “he’s been staring at you all night. You two will have more to talk about than me.”

She takes her hand off your arm, giving you a wink and walking away. You hold out your arm about to stop her, but a voice stops you.

“Excuse me, I’ve been looking at you from afar and couldn’t take my eyes off of you,” choso says, his hands in both his pockets.

The ends of your mouth curl up into a smile and you turn around. “is that right? And you are?”

He smiles when your eyes meet his, his cheeks flushing and his eyes lighting up. “I’m choso. the artist for this exhibition.”

He holds out his hand for you to shake; you laugh, walking towards him, wrapping your arms around his waist, squeezing him.

He’s taken aback but quickly hugs back, his warm embrace and his comforting scent making you smile.

You don’t know what you were holding out on. You love him way too much to pretend not to be with him, let alone pretend not to know him.

“I’m so proud of you,” you say, muffled into his chest. His cheeks flush more and his hand balls the fabric of your shirt, fighting off tears.

“I love you… y/n.” the fight didn’t last long, and a couple of tears falling out his eyes.

“I love you.” You reply snuggling into him. The both of you probably look like idiots, but you didn’t care.

You pull back and choso is smiling at you; he holds your waist, turning towards the crowd of people.

“This is my partner!” he yells out, the people walking around laughing and a couple of people laughing.

You spot a familiar face in the crowd, the older woman. She looks at you winking, and you hold up a thumbs up.

Thank you.

[missterious-figure]

You might have seen me raiding your blog for all the harpy boy art earlier. XD

Seeing the baby versions of the boys was so cute!!! Now I'm just picturing y/n having to briefly care for a newly hatched harpy and cooing over them, only to have one or all of the boys flock to them and tease them about starting their own family. Those majestic bastards.

A small baby harpy had just recently been given into your care. He was a little peafowl chick named Sky. Right now, you were carrying him back from the medical wing after a check up. The whole reason you were caring for him was because his parents were both very sick.

He himself hadn't been sick, luckily, but he missed his parents. You glanced down at him worriedly. He was a little chocolate brown fluff of feathers with hazel and black stripes. His grey scaly arms and legs curled up in a fetal position as you cradled him. He looked up at you from your arms with blue eyes, big and round. Precious little gems gleaming at you.

But they were cloudy. He was sad. He was only a newly hatched chick and couldn't speak yet. However, he didn't have to tell you for you to know he was miserable. You sighed. You needed to head to the safari zone to get him to the hatchling care area. An area pesky guests couldn't bother him. But to get there, you had to pass the casino's gardens. The place was often filled with people. And seeing a baby harpy would instantly draw attention. But you had to go there anyway.

As soon as you stepped foot into the garden, your prediction was right. Many people began to crowd you, snap pictures of poor baby, and try to touch him. You desperately tried to shoo them away to no avail. One particularly stuck up woman pinched his little cheek rather hard, which made him cry. You finally snapped.

"Back off! Stop touching him!"

The crowd pulled away and the woman yanked her hand back. She look offended, as if you had just told her to kill herself or something. You pulled his head into the crook of your neck to hide his little face. It broke your heart to feel his small tears wet your skin. As you tried to comfort poor Sky, the woman regained her competence.

"Excuse me! How dare you yell at me!"

You didn't turn to her but you politely said back,

"Sorry, but the safety of the baby harpy is my top priority as a zookeeper."

The woman snorted,

"Where's your manager? I'm a high paying patron, I doubt he would be happy to hear that you lost a valuable customer."

You were about to answer her when three large shadows appeared behind the woman. Of course, it was Sun, Moon, and Eclipse. The lady whipped around to see them towering above her, glaring fiercely. Eclipse was first to speak.

"All staff have the right to tell guests off if it involves the safety or comfort of a harpy. Especially a baby harpy."

He was cold as he addressed her. Sun was next to chime in.

"Besides, this little one needs a nap! So leave the zookeeper be so they can do their job, okay?"

Sun sounded cheerful, but his sharp gaze said the opposite. Moon didn't speak and stood ominously next to his brothers. The woman was now as friendly and sweet as ever.

"I was just-"

"Going? Good idea."

The woman glanced back to you, then to the boys, before swiftly walking back the direction she came. All the brothers stared daggers into her back as they watched her leave. Eclipse turned and scowled down at the remaining crowd and it suddenly disappeared. Sky looks up from your neck and giggles at the three adult harpies. The three boys coo to him as they guided you the rest of the way to the safari zone. As the four of you walked, you sighed, relieved.

"Thanks guys."

"Any thing for you and our new little baby!"

Sun said teasingly.

"W-What? Our? Sun! This chick already has parents!"

"We know, but wouldn't it be fun to pretend?"

"At least, until we have our own together."

Moon chuckled.

You blush. These stupid bastards!

[terrestrialnoob]

Time and Information

She was walked through the halls of Bel Rev Prison by four guards down an unfamiliar passage. She was soon joined by a younger woman with blonde pigtails who was happily chatting to her escort until she saw her fellow prisoner.

“Oh my gosh! A new face!” She cheered in a heavy Brooklyn accent, “Better be careful or it’ll get blown to bits!”

The two were taken into separate rooms and there was a sudden jolt of horror at the chair in the center of the room. It looked far too familiar, straps and gaps for easy access to specific parts of the body – the soft, weak parts. It was similar to something she’d once made when she was younger, dumber, and too scared of the unknown – no, too scared of being wrong about the unknown to see what was right in front of her. She struggled against the guards, but one punched her in the gut and she was forcefully strapped down into the chair. She was warned not to move before there was a sharp pain at the back of her neck. She sat frozen as something was forced under her skin, she could feel it anchoring into bone. After that, she was unstrapped and furiously asked what they’d done to her. “They’ll explain it soon enough.”

She was lead out of the surgical room and into a large concrete room, with 2 metal crates. She spotted the girl from earlier standing next to one of the crates. She looked up at her from pulling on a red and black diamond patterned leotard over fishnet leggings. The girl waved and shouted, “You made it!”

She waved back to the blonde then one of the guards lead her to the other crate and opened it. Her eyes stared to tear at the sight of her old aqua jumpsuit. There were also her goggles, utility belt, respirator mask, and a handful of non-compacted weapons.

She followed the implicit instruction to change into her jumpsuit, and it felt like putting on her real skin on again. It had been so long, she was starting to see silver in her auburn hair that had grown so long her braid went all the way down to her back. But the suit fit, just like it always did.

“Awooga!” The girl cheered and shouted, “I’m not usually a MILF kinda gal, but you look tight.”

She almost laughed at getting catcalled by the other woman and even flexed her arm to show off her prison muscle. The two were soon lead to a new room and she saw three other non-guards in the room, all in their own colorful costume. A large man had on a bear-skin cloak over body armor while another seemed to be dressed up like an airline pilot. A humanoid tiger creature was also there, they were already wearing a sleeveless Chinese-style martial arts uniform.

“Boomer!” The girl shouted and waved at the airline pilot and he smiled and greeted her in turn.

“It’s good to see you Harley,” He said with an Australian accent, “who’s your friend?”

Before she could answer, a door slammed open. A woman entered; thick and sturdy who held herself like a pillar of The Acropolis, like if she fell, the whole of civilization would fall with her. At her side was a man dressed up in his own custom red, silver, and black body armor.

The woman stopped and glared at the prisoners like they were less than human and took time to memorize all their inhumanity before she spoke, “Ladies, gentlemen. For those who don’t know, I am Amanda Waller, head of Task Force X, an off the books strike team of convicts used as expendable agents working for the U.S. Government. You are now members of Task Force X. Succeed in your mission, and you’ll get time off your sentences. Any questions?”

“A few, ma’am,” She rose her hand.

Waller raised her eyebrow and nodded, but before she could ask, the man in the bear skin shouted, “The Bear fight for Mother Russia, not U.S. Pigs!” His accent was thick and he stomped his heavy boots up to Waller, towering over her in an attempt to intimidate. “I will not work for you.”

Waller glared up at him and waved at the door behind her, “Be warned, there’s a small explosive in your neck, and if you do any little thing I don’t like, your head will be blown clean off. Take one step out that door, and you’re dead.”

The Russian growled at her, then pushed past her. He took one confident step through the door - the explosion was bright but quiet, and eviscerated the man’s head in seconds.

Waller turned back to the others, “Did that answer any of your questions?”

“A few yes,” She smiled and gently rubbed her neck where the small lump was indicating which of her questions had been answered. Then she continued, much to the horror of the Australian. “Are the terms of this – arrangement negotiable?”

Waller answered before she even finished, “You can’t refuse.”

She nodded her head, “I assumed as much. But, there’s something I want more than time off my sentence.”

“Oh?” Waller gave her a scrutinizing look, the kind that a woman who’s always looking for a better deal has.

“It’s about my son. Last I saw him, he was being experimented on in a government lab. The thing I want is unredacted copies of the files. I want to know Every. Single. Thing. any research lab anywhere has ever done to my son. And his current location.” Her voice shifted from relatively polite to absolutely deadly; almost like she now blamed everything the government has ever done wrong on Waller as a representative. The man next to Waller seemed to flinch, but the two women didn’t break eye contact.

“Might be difficult, given that most of the facilities that would have that information were destroyed. But I don’t have to tell you that, do I?” Waller stared her down, or at least tried to. There was silence, and for a moment several people in the room expected a head to explode. But then Waller said, “Do the mission, and I’ll see what I can get from the guys in white.”

The woman who stood up to The Acropolis smiled dangerously as she said, “I’m sure a woman of your standing and reach can get her hands into any government office.”

Waller smiled back, “You flatter me, Ms. Fenton.”

“Doctor Fenton,” She corrected, “One doesn’t lose their education simply because they’re imprisoned.”

[funtheysaid]

IWTV 2x02 Initial Thoughts (Stream Of Consciousness)

- ooh the title card changed! I’ve been wanting to see the Eiffel Tower as a “fang” since season two was announced. WE IN PARIS BABY!

- ayooo three-way (interview) incoming

- Daniel’s “Paris sucks” aka “Paris is where my ex-bf is from and he sucks (dick), but not mine anymore, and no, I’m not bitter abt that, his city just fucking stinks (literally)”

- not two minutes in and Devil’s Minion is already flirting bickering

- ALICE MENTION alice!armand truthers are gon love that shit i just know

- “I’ll tell you what a woman is” That’s my sapphic-coded queen!!! 🕯️ pls S2 give me claudeleine 🕯️

- “Gauche” well, yes.

- Loumand: 🥰🥰 Daniel: 🙄 he‘s so second-hand embarrassed for them I can’t

- I mean, it’s crazy. What? We finish each other’s- I WAS WITH HIM FOR LONGER THAN LESTAT WAS WITH HIM WRITE THAT DOWN WRITE THAT DOWN DANIEL PUT IT ON RECORD WEVE BEEN FUCKING FOR LIKE DOUBLE THE TIME …that’s what i…was….gonna say?

- Louis would be that faux-intellectual hipster who has his own darkroom full of overexposed and blurry, unfocused photos that are his “art” bc he took them on film (affectionate)

- Not claudia calling him out on it in the next scene “let me think I’m deeper than I am” okay honey you do you

- “She’s miserable but she doesn’t want to fuck with your too delusional left bank dilettante vibes” ahh the narrative foils are foiling, I see

- The show: Alice was pregnant, My dumb ass: OMEGAVERSE DEVILS MINION !?!?

- “joyfully joyless” MOOD.

- Claudia looking at Madeleine like “I don’t know if I want to be her or be with her” Dw babe it’s a rite of passage for all of us you’ll figure it out

- “Your French is ugly” 🥹👉👈 weally?

- “the dress for my body” LOOK I know what she meant, but I can’t help it that my mind is perverted

- LMFAO NOT GLORYHOLE PARK

- okay why Loumand playing with my heart “I will never harm you. And I never have” wtf wtf wtf

-Oh no the ole business card trick! we all know that’s Louis’ kryptonite he loves a man with credentials

- i like girls, but why is santiago kinda…

- Woah the Annika scene was really hard to watch which I think was the point but goddamn idk if I’ll be able to rewatch that part

- Estelle is my self-insert. I’m claiming her.

- “You both fucked Lestat!?!” HOW DID THEY KNOW WE WANTED HIM TO SAY THAT!?

- “He tasted of vermouth and annihilation” We both know you have no earthly idea what that man tastes like, Armand. Be so fucking fr right now.

- Did Armand just casually drop that he had a threesome with a father and son? I’m sorry, sir????

- “Now I know what two blood fat cocks slapping hands feel like” When I tell you my spirit left my body

- oh shit here we go. I’m a caged animal and it’s time for my weekly enrichment. give me my loustat.

- there’s a letter !?!? Wait wait I wasn’t ready for something like this wait stop stop please

- “all my love belongs to you. you are its keeper” just take me out back and shoot me at this point

- “it is a thin veil” fucking fuck why was that so romantic??

- the blood tears welling up in Lestat’s eyes I’m-

- “Rebound of my life” and in that moment, he spoke for the people

- WHAT IS HAPPENING???? Jesus Christ, they were talking about Alice and then it cuts to FUCKING ARMAND!?! This is not a drill. Everyone to your stations, this is not a drill.

- “You sold your Dad’s playboy magazines at recess” Hmmm? You’re telling me a “straight” teenage boy sold porno mags instead of keeping them for himself??? Yeah, I call gay on that one

- “she wanted to say yes” you motherfuckers.

- Oh shit Louis is pissy tonight rawr kitty got claws

- Devils minion girlies are thriving, skin glowing, hair silky, breath minty, pillow cold, stomach full, dreams sweet, and by Jove, we fucking deserve it !!!!

- daniel’s shaky “um- gulp” …….guys this is gonna sound crazy but i think there might actually be a god

- ooh the camera/photography being like a divide or barrier between Louis and his present situation. Like he wants to capture the moments, but only as if an onlooker and not a participant… interesting!

- “Who?” will never not be funny

- “Mon ami” in the same episode as “Mon Cher” FUCK ME GENTLY WITH A CHAINSAW

- “Armand for you” nah nah nah i changed my mind, you can do like Leatherface and shove that chainsaw in rough and hard

- Close up on Louis’ conflicted face, fire blazing behind him…. That’s not foreboding in any way. I’m sure they’ll all live happily ever after from now on :D

What a ride! Until next week! 🧛‍♂️🩸