#Would they be my father?(Or second mother)

[thesummerestsolstice]

Notes on Keeping the Children Alive, by Maedhros Feanorian

One of them tried to bite me yesterday. A spirited effort, but doomed to failure. I will teach them how to do it better– their teeth are certainly sharp enough for it.

Woke up with flowers growing through the crack in my bedroom window. I suspect this is their doing. They are not very good liars.

Letting them climb on me has proved an effective bribe for good behavior.

They appear to like being tall. (possibly related to being descended from Turgon and Thingol??)

They stopped being afraid of me faster than most adults. Am I losing my touch???

Disregard previous note. Eldritch monsters recognize each other.

Am teaching them how to make the most of their shapeshifting abilities for political intimidation. They are shaping up to be menaces. Good.

Twins are old enough to begin swordfighting, and clearly eager, regardless of what Maglor says.

I have taught the children to argue with Maglor. I am certain they will eventually wear him down.

Gave the children more blankets so they would stop using my cloak as a blanket. New blankets have been resolutely ignored.

I am sure they'll stop commandeering my coat if I ask them.

I have decided not to ask them. (They are very cute when they are asleep)

Children are now attempting to negotiate their way out of bedtime.

Small animals appear to like the children. Especially birds.

They found a kitten in the stables yesterday. They would like to keep it.

Teaching the children to argue may have been an error.

Children asked whether it was possible to have three fathers. I am uncertain why. (Thingol homophobic??)

One of the children called me "Atar" today. Definitely did not cry about it. Not even a little bit.

It appears the children were asking about three fathers because they would like to be adopted.

I informed them that two fathers was the limit, but that Maglor could be their second mother, if they like.

Kano was too stunned at being acknowledged as the children's parent to correct them about calling him "Amme." Another successful plan.

(Kano, if you're reading this, then yes, this is payback for referring to me as a "brooding drama queen" for patrolling Himring's walls, in a very un-dramatic way, like a normal, responsible lord)

(Also, you of all people do not get to criticize me for being dramatic)

The children's Quenya is finally good enough for them to start reading higher level diplomacy treatises. I couldn't be prouder.

The children have never done anything wrong, ever, in their lives. I know this and I love them.

[shadykazama]

Hello! Your headcanons on Wukong/Destined One had me giggling so much 😊 they're so great, couldn't stop rereading.

Um, if it's alright, can I ask for some Wukong/Destined One x Reader with their baby? Feral daddy monkey in his nesting phase with his mate and baby is so— 🤭

Absolutely! I have a lot of thoughts and the people demand more monkey business- so let's get down to it.

❤ Wukong

Starting with the pregnancy~

He is ELATED.

The idea of a proper heir had never crossed his mind because well- he's immortal. He doesn't need one. But that doesn't mean the idea of his own flesh and blood isn't positively exciting.

There's a chance he knows you're pregnant before you do. What with all of his special powers and heightened senses.

Celebrates privately with you of course but it becomes a mountain-wide event very quickly.

You are showered with praise and blessings by all the monkeys.

He will never miss a chance to brag that he's going to have a baby. And he's definitely smug about it too, thinks your child is going to surpass even his power.

When you start showing he gets more smothering.

Don't forget our king's fatal flaw! He thinks he knows what's best.

Will limit how much you travel and makes sure you always have at least two attendants by your side while he's gone.

Which, once you get further along, isn't often. There were plenty of superstitions about pregnancy in ancient China, as well as a high infant mortality rate- and that's not even counting what complications could happen due to the magical nature of your child. So he'd be stressed.

He expresses stress through aggression (canon), though it's never pointed at you. He'd be fiercely protective over the mountain, but especially any of the areas you regularly stay in. He'd be very snappy at everyone for the entire second half of the pregnancy, except you of course, who he'd be showering with praise and reverence.

Likes holding your stomach while you rest and tells your baby about the great lineage they're being born into, recounting his titles and strength and promising them they'd be greater.

He's hoping for a boy, but he's assured his child will be spectacular regardless of the gender.

When you give birth he will be extremely focused. He can't afford to be weak in a moment when you need him most. (Though your cries of pain and effort will certainly make his heart ache.)

As you're holding your baby for the first time, his teasing, smug attitude is nowhere to be seen. He just looks at you as if you'd given him the universe itself.

Cutest baby ever might I add 👆.

It's a Chinese tradition that only immediate family is allowed to meet the baby for the first 100 days after it's born, so it'd just be you and him for a majority of three months unless you invite your family to meet them.

In traditional fashion, on the 100th day a banquet is held to officially introduce the baby to everyone. And MY GOD would it be an event...

Besides all of the monkeys on the mountain who want to celebrate their new prince/princess, I can't even imagine how many celestials and demons would come to pay their respects and blessings- be it out of fear or respect.

Either way, expect a very long day and a LOT of gifts.

^ Wukong doesn't leave your side for the entire day. I dare someone to try and pull something.

You'd expect with his trickster personality that he'd be a very lenient dad, but Wukong is surprisingly dutiful in making sure your child doesn't turn out lazy or ignorant.

That by no means is to say he wouldn't be a wonderfully playful father. He'd have a wonderful connection with his child, and his most important lesson to them would be to respect their mother ;)

More of a one kid kind of guy, so he'd probably stop after the first, unless you had twins or triplets.

As protective as he was with you when you were pregnant, he's pretty chill with the actual kid. He knows they're durable and will let them get roughed up doing dumb stuff.

Carries them around hanging off his tail and will pretend like he doesn't know where they went.

It's like how cats will let their babies 'sneak up on them' to encourage them to keep trying. He does the same thing with your kid when they try to trick him.

Your baby would be the most respectful little shit ever. A little shit nonetheless, but would do anything for you or their father.

All the monkeys on the mountain help keep an eye on the little sage so you'll never feel lost or alone in parenting. It's very much a joined effort and your baby will see the other monkeys as their family as well!

This wonderful piece of Sun Wukong was done by @kanade-howl here on tumblr! They post their work on Twitter as well at @kanaade_ and @_liehuzuo please support them!

💙 The Destined One

Give him a bunch of babies I beg you.

He'd get addicted, he wants a big family for SURE.

When you first tell him you're pregnant he'll probably take some time to fully soak it in.

You'll be used to being patient with him at this point, but I imagine something like this is really nerve wracking so don't feel bad if you rush him for a response.

He'll put a hand on your stomach as if he's checking for himself before picking you up and smothering you with love.

He's not a chatty guy but he'll let you know how happy he is!

^ That being said, during your pregnancies is the most talkative he'll ever be.

He doesn't want you to stress about communicating and knows your body is going through a lot so he pushes himself to talk more to make sure you get everything you need.

That doesn't mean he'll be a chatterbox by any means. More than nothing is still very slim :')

Expect a lot of one word questions.

Trusts you more than he trusts his own instincts. His instincts tell him you shouldn't be climbing or moving around much- but if you want to, who's he to tell you what to do? He's not the one pregnant 🤷‍♀️

Follows you around like a guard dog when you do though, doesn't matter what you're doing.

Somehow even more physically affectionate than normal. Will insist on holding your hand when you walk so you can lean your weight on him.

When you start showing he'll be amazed. It's not that he's never seen a pregnant person before but like... That's his baby in there and he can't believe it.

His favorite thing to do is lay his head against your stomach while you're resting. Will kiss your skin and adore the life you're making.

You can catch him whispering things to your baby while he's resting his head on your stomach.

Your body is going to ache and he is more than happy to massage it for you. He doesn't even need an excuse to touch you, but he'll find them anyway.

Once you get further along and it gets harder for you to get around, he'll pick you up and take your wherever you want to go- within reasonable distance from your home of course. Not because he can't take you further, he just doesn't want to in case something happens.

But he wants to make sure you get fresh air and still see the beauty outside of your bed.

Doesn't trust anyone to watch you. It's him or nothing.

Makes offerings and prays to the goddess of childbirth. He does this a few times before you catch him and start helping.

He's a bundle of nerves when you're giving birth. If you weren't preoccupied, it'd probably be painfully obvious how nervous he was.

Holds you while you hold your baby and will not stop telling you how much he loves you and how perfect the baby is.

Gets baby fever bad.

Baby will be spoiled, and so will any other baby after that.

Huge advocate for carrying the baby. If you're not opposed to it, he probably carries them more than you.

Has the most deadpan look on his face as he looks at this baby but he has so much adoration for his little miracle.

Stressing over your baby crying in the middle of the night? Not with him! He's at that babies beck and call.

Watching a nearly mute man deal with a curious child is definitely amusing and you get a front row seat.

Your children kind of just accept that their dad doesn't talk much, but he'll always tell them he loves them if they say it to him.

Takes them everywhere with him so he can teach them. Is SO proud when the oldest starts helping teach the younger ones.

He's proud of them in general honestly.

Your kids are going to be super loving and curious. I think he'd foster really healthy relationships between all of them.

You'd have a whole team taking care of you if you ever got sick.

[vrystalius]

I've been wanting to send in this ask from quite a while , could i please request reader x kyojuro where they were talking about his late mother and the reader holds him the same way his mother did when he was younger unknowingly to comfort him , thank you for reading ! take care <3

Kyojuro being held.

Hugging and offering your comfort to Kyojuro after finding him in front of Ruka’s shine.

Pairing: Kyojuro x gn!reader

Kyojuro makes sure to pray for his mother before heading out on missions. Senjuro makes sure to keep the shrine clean and tidy when his older brother is away, dusting off every surface and repositioning the portraits of Ruka to face the house properly, and Kyojuro appreciates it greatly. It’s comforting to him to just kneel down onto the soft pillow in front of the carefully chiseled shrine, to light some incense and mutter quiet prayers under his breath while bowing his head. It always feels like Ruka’s watching over him and making sure he, his little brother and father are doing fine. Although his father could use a little more watching and maybe some divine scolding from his mother.

He was just about to grab his sheathed katana and prepare to head out when Kyojuro felt a warm hand touch his back and slowly wrap around his shoulders. Turning his head to check to was pulling him into their embrace was not needed, he knew it was you.

“My love, you’re here. Would you like to get to know my mother a little? I realised I barely speak of her.”

Kyojuro had a small smile on his face that had a tinge of sadness to it. You scooted a little closer, sitting right next to him as he took one of the flowers that were placed into Ruka’s favourite vase and handed it to you.

“It was her favourite flower. I remember my father bringing home a new batch everytime he returned from a mission. Senjuro liked knocking the vases over, so father always made sure to put them out of his reach. They always died so quickly ever since mother got sick, father forgot to change the waters every time.”

His smile brightened slightly while watching you twirl and inspect the flower in your hand. Kyojuro’s gaze lifted and he looked at your face as a whole, brushing his fingers across your cheekbones and cheeks.

“My mother would’ve loved you. You’re so sweet and kind to me, always waiting up on me into the middle of the night to greet me, and you always spoil me with your cuddles and cooking. You’re almost heavenly sent!”

Realising what he said, his smile softened again. Kyojuro scooted closer to you and gently wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Perhaps my mother sent you.”

He mumbled into your shoulder, his hold getting tighter. He shivered slightly when one of your arms gently wrapped around his shoulders, your other arm resting on his broad shoulders and running through his bright locks. Kyojuro sighed deeply and closed his eyes, melting against your touch.

Just for a split second he was back in Ruka’s arms, listening to her voice and how he should use his strength to protect others who cannot do it themselves. You two remained like this for what felt like an eternity, and he was never planning on letting go. But after opening his eyes and pulling away from your gentle hug, he was just staring into your eyes, being reminded once again why he wants to propose to you so badly.

“I didn’t think I needed that hug but I seemingly did. Thank you.”

Kyojuro sighed and stood up, brushing off some dust off his pants and offering you a hand to stand back up.

“I believe I can postpone my mission for a little longer. I’ll move during nightfall, that way we can spend more time together. Would you like to hear more about my mother? We can help my little brother prepare dinner meanwhile, I’m sure he’d like to hear about mother a little too!”

💠

Thank you so much for requesting!! Hope you enjoyed it, anon! I just love writing about cuddles and holding, running fingers through hairs and just soft fluff. Maybe because I’m often tired and want to be treated like that XD

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!

Take care of yourselves <3

[poisonlove]

The "Ghost" of halloween | A.D

Pairing: Astrid deetz X reader

Astrid pov's

I increase my pedaling speed, the wind tangling my hair. I was tired of arguing with my mother, tired of being teased for being a Deetz. Why did my mother have to be the crazy woman who believed she could talk to ghosts, see ghosts? And most of all, why did she have to do it on television, where millions of people could witness the spectacle?

I didn’t believe in my mother’s abilities in the slightest, especially because, according to her, she couldn’t even contact my father.

The only person who truly understood me, the only person who, with his quirks, had passed on to me his love for horror, the one person I desperately wanted to see again in my miserable life.

The one person I would never see again. Starting today, my grandfather too.

I clenched my jaw, trying to mask my mood, and kept pedaling. My hands gripped the bike's handlebars tightly as I moved my legs faster, my gaze drifting over the decorations for tomorrow's upcoming Halloween celebration.

My mother’s wedding to her stupid fiancé.

I sighed loudly. My mother had ruined my favorite holiday. I pushed that thought aside and focused on the decorations: skeletons hanging here and there, cobwebs, pumpkins, and strange monsters in the yards. Children strolled along the streets, showing off their spooky costumes.

A small smile formed on my lips.

The sound of a car horn jerked me out of my thoughts, and when I turned my head, I saw a black Jeep coming dangerously close in my direction. My eyes widened, and I instinctively turned the handlebars toward the sidewalk, narrowly avoiding the car.

"Watch out!" yelled a man I almost hit.

My grip on the handlebars became iron-tight, and with all the fear and adrenaline in the world, I tried to dodge the pedestrians, earning a few insults for my reckless riding. My eyes widened further, and my breathing grew rapid with each passing second.

The bike had picked up speed, and I had completely lost control. I closed my eyes as I saw a fence rushing into my path, bracing myself for the impact. The sound of wood splintering echoed in my ears, and the sudden slope caused me to lose balance, crashing into a tree and tumbling to the ground.

A giggle made me look up.

Groaning in pain, I saw a girl looking at me with amusement from the treehouse I had just destroyed. I rubbed my head, trying to ease the pain.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, embarrassed.

The girl’s eyes widened before she sat on the edge of the house, her y/c eyes watching me with curiosity and amusement.

"Are you okay?" she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.

"Yeah, sorry about the fence. My family will pay for the damages," I said, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"Oh, don’t worry about it," the girl waved her hand dismissively, and I smiled shyly, brushing a strand of hair out of my face.

"Where are you from? I’ve never seen you around here, and I’d remember someone as cute as you," she asked kindly, her voice dripping with curiosity.

"Uhmm... from there," I admitted shyly, pointing to the large house visible on the hill. My cheeks reddened at her compliment. She thinks I’m cute.

Her eyes followed my gesture toward the house, and she smiled faintly.

“The haunted house?" she asked with a teasing tone, and I huffed at her playful jab.

"Let’s just drop it. Sorry about the fence, see you around," I muttered, annoyed.

I had thought I’d finally met someone interesting, someone different from the bullies who teased me at school every day. She was probably one of them, and I didn’t even recognize her.

"Hey, I’m sorry, don’t leave," she quickly murmured.

I glanced back at the girl sitting on the treehouse planks, her y/c eyes looking at me with guilt.

Maybe she wasn’t trying to mock me. She gave me a small apologetic smile, and I blushed violently, once again brushing my hair from my face.

She’s really cute.

The anger faded quickly.

"I didn’t mean to offend you," she confessed, and I nodded in understanding. "Do you want to come up?" she offered timidly, and my heart skipped a beat at her proposal.

"Sure," I replied, feeling nervous.

I walked over to the tree and climbed up the ladder quickly, arriving on the wooden planks that led to the small house. The girl had moved aside and was watching me, her hands in her pockets, her eyes tracing my figure. She wore an oversized hoodie, jeans that fit her perfectly, and white Adidas sneakers.

"So… have you ever seen any ghosts?" she asked playfully, leading me inside the house.

"I haven’t, but my mother has," I confessed awkwardly.

My eyes wandered curiously over the surroundings: several music posters from the '90s proudly hung on the walls. I sat down next to her, surrounded by cushions.

"And you don’t believe in them?" she asked timidly.

I shook my head.

"Honestly, I think it’s all crap," I admitted with a small smile, my eyes meeting hers in amusement.

The girl smiled and tilted her head to the side, her long y/c hair gracefully falling over her shoulders.

My heart skipped a beat.

"I believe in them," she said shyly, pulling her knees up to her chest. She rested her chin on them and looked at me with a playful gleam in her eyes.

"Then I guess you must like my mother’s show," I said bitterly.

The girl tilted her head in confusion.

"What show?" she asked timidly.

"You don’t know my mom’s show? Lydia Deetz?" I asked, surprised.

Maybe she was the first person in this awful town who didn’t know about my mother’s show. Was I relieved or not?

"You’re a Deetz?" she asked, surprised, her eyes widening comically.

"Yes, I’m Astrid Deetz," I said with a half-laugh.

The situation was pretty amusing.

"Oh wow, I’ve heard about you," she said calmly, a playful smile on her lips.

"Yeah?" I asked curiously.

"Yeah, I… I mean, my mom told me what happened back then," she muttered quickly, and I giggled at the panicked look on her face.

Her expression relaxed when she saw me laugh.

"Anyway… tomorrow is Halloween," she said with a small smile.

At the mention of tomorrow's holiday, the thought of my mother’s wedding popped into my mind, making me grimace in disgust.

"You don’t like Halloween?" she asked playfully, probably noticing my expression.

"It’s my favorite holiday," I admitted with a bitter smile.

"Mm-hmm… it didn’t seem like it from the face you made," she said, glancing at me from the corner of her eye.

"My mom is getting married to her fiancé," I grimaced in disgust.

"Oh… I guess your dad’s not too happy about that," she muttered to herself.

A sharp pain hit my chest at the mention of my dad, and the girl, probably noticing my reaction, shifted closer to me.

"My dad died years ago," I confessed, a tear threatening to escape.

The girl looked at me with sadness.

"I’m sorry," her y/c eyes looked at me with compassion, and for a moment, she raised her hand as if to offer me a comforting touch, but she quickly pulled it back.

"Don’t worry… Halloween used to be my favorite because of him. He’d go all out making my costumes," I smiled softly at the memory.

The countless laughs and moments spent together, preparing and trying to match our costumes, flashed through my mind, making me smile nostalgically.

"You have a beautiful smile… you should show it more," the girl mumbled softly, and I glanced at her from the corner of my eye, blushing at her words. I bit my lower lip and looked at her in amusement.

"Thanks," I replied quietly, embarrassed.

"By the way, I’m Y/n," the girl said shyly, watching me with amusement.

I nodded at her words and turned my attention to the view outside: the sky was tinged with orange, signaling the arrival of evening.

"I have to go, it’s getting late," I quickly murmured, standing up.

Even though I was having fun spending time with this girl, I didn’t want to worry or argue with my mother again. I climbed down the ladder and walked toward my bike, picking it up.

I glanced up at the girl.

"See you tomorrow?" I asked, a smile spreading across my face as I mounted my bike.

"Is that a date?" she asked playfully, leaning against the tree. I blushed at her words, my heart pounding wildly in my chest.

I nodded.

"It was a pleasure, Astrid," the girl smiled sweetly at me.

"The pleasure was mine, Y/n," I smiled back.

I can’t wait for tomorrow.

A/n: I hope you like it ;)

[pajarinwrites]

中秋节 | Wen Junhui x Reader

➳ fem!reader x jun

➳ wc: 6.1k

➳ TAGS: idol!au, established relationship

➳ WARNINGS: omg um, cunnilingus, jun is a SIMP, piv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it, my dudes), praise, just general adorable lovey dovey softness, but like medium rough sex? ig, not really rough?, i never know how to write warnings, just like i don't know how to write smut woops sorry

➳ AN: HAPPY MID AUTUMN FESTIVAL BITCHES and 女王们; this is only moderately edited bc i actually meant to publish smt for 中秋节 last year but i didn't finish it in time so here it is now (I’m sure it’s still autumn festival somewhere in the world…)! I LOVE WEN JUNHUI

I DON'T KNOW HOW TO WRITE SMUT I HATED THIS AHHHH i don't think i'll ever be able to write any smut in which the man isn't a simpering, whimpering, submissive, cowering, crawling, obsequious little simping piece of trash; it's just how i like my men, but i kinda wanna challenge myself some time, not this time though :P also i'm low-key proud of this smut? i used miraclewoozi as an inspiration bc their smut is literal art...

also, literally three pieces in one week??? WHO AM I??? this is more than in the entire year before combined, i fear lmao. sorry. i'm off to return to hibernate in my bog for another six months now thx bye, RIN OUT *drops mic

masterlist

Jun stepped out of the airport into the sweltering heat, but had to find that merely knowing the weather conditions was quite different from being prepared for them. Luckily, he had left enough space in his carry-on to take off the jacket and sweater that he had needed in chilly Seoul and during the flight – airplane ACs were notoriously unpredictable. Despite this, Hong Kong never seized to amaze him with its constant warmth. At least the eternal sunshine gave him a good excuse to wear a cap and sunglasses at all times.

He flagged down a cross-border cab because, frankly, he didn’t feel like taking the crowded metro all the way home. This way he saved himself from a lot of heat, hassle, and the potential of being recognised, even if it delayed him. As expected, the traffic in the city was a nightmare and he did make it home later than strictly necessary. He paid the fee, dodging the driver’s interested gaze, and mumbling a small “mh gōi” before dashing into his building.

When he was finally standing in front of his apartment door, Jun felt ready to just lock himself in his room for the rest of the night. That was, until the door opened to reveal his parents and little brother. Immediately, his frown softened and he dropped his bags to engulf them in one enormous hug.

“I missed you guys so much,” he exclaimed to groans from his little brother and a soft smile from his mother.

This was most likely going to be the last chance he got to spend more than a day or two with them. With their world tour and his busy filming schedule just around the corner, he wouldn’t have time for months.

Jun had spent years of Zhōngqiūjié apart from them. It wasn’t easy to watch most of his members be able to visit their homes and spend Chuseok with their loved ones. Some years it was only him, Minghao, and Joshua in the dorms. But he wasn’t going to dwell on that. Not when he could finally hold the people he loved the most in his arms. Well, most of them at any rate. He would never get used to having to choose between his biological and his chosen family.

His mother peeled herself away from him, squeezing his cheek and insisting that he had grown even more handsome over the last few weeks.  His step father clapped him on the shoulder and asked him about the flight; his brother asked if he had brought him anything cool. Unable to stop smiling for even a second, Jun assented to both questions. He was led to the living room by his mother to sit and relax after the ‘strenuous journey’, giving him a moment to fish the presents out of his luggage, handing one off to his little brother.

“Thanks, gē!” YangYang exclaimed and bounded off to his room to open it in peace. Their mother called after him, “Don’t forget to do your homework before playing! Dinner will be ready in an hour!” Jun smiled, handing his parents the other one.

“You shouldn’t have! I keep telling you we don’t need anything.”

“But I want to get you guys nice things, mā.”

She looked trapped half-way between smitten and resigned, but accepted the present gracefully. With a kiss on the top of his head she stated, “You can rest a little before I call you boys for dinner. I’m making your favourite.”

He thanked her, foregoing the idea of retiring to his room in favour of joining his mother in the kitchen. Most of the ingredients were already laid out on the counter, but when she bent down to pick up something from the bottom shelf, she gasped, “I can’t believe it! Where did all of our rice noodles go? I don’t think this is enough. And I also forgot to buy bamboo shoots earlier!”

She turned around, apologetically, and murmured about having to go to the market real quick to get some. Jun held out his hand to stop her in her tracks.

“Don’t worry, mā. I’ll go get the missing ingredients, and you can get started on the other dishes.”

“No let me go, Jun. You’ve just had a taxing flight and—“ His step-father tried to intervene.

“It’s absolutely no problem!” Jun insisted, not paying his parents’ protests any mind. He grabbed his sunglasses from the side table by the entrance and was out the door before either of them could stop him.

Jun had missed their shèqū, its homely atmosphere, the bustling of the people on the street, and hence didn’t mind the opportunity for a late-night stroll. The closest super market was just down the short road at the main square, and he stopped by quickly before continuing on his way to the live market.

There was a certain nostalgia in going to the market like this, just the way he used to with his mother when he was younger. The stalls didn’t even seem to have changed at all. There was the same group of old ladies dancing in the small park to the side, and a little further down the road, a small group of children was taking turns, performing on a gǔzhēng. Jun watched the windows of his old piano school pass by, still partially lit as students practiced inside. At the corner of the next street was the second-hand book store they had often visited, next to the pharmacy in which he used to sit on the kiddie rides for ages, singing along to jiātíng chēnghu or liǎng zhī lǎohǔ.

Still lost in nostalgia, he stopped by one of the vegetable vendors to acquire the bamboo shoots. Jun enjoyed strolling the aisles leisurely, taking a look at all the things that were being sold. As he rounded one of the displays, someone else was cutting the corner in the opposite direction. Jun barely managed to dance out of the trajectory of them, murmuring an immediate, “Sorry, are you okay?”

He pulled down his sunglasses and looked at the person in front of him in worry. They looked up, locked eyes with him and whisper-screamed, “Oh my god! Wen Junhui?”

Jun was taken aback for only a split second, which he spent worrying he had been recognised, before he could place your face. He hadn’t seen you properly in years, just another name on the long list of people he had to leave behind. The last time you had run into each other had been during Rock With You promotions, when Minghao and he had taken time for their own schedules in China. His eyes crinkled in the corners but he still didn’t dare to take off his mask.

“It’s been so long!” He said instead. You had pulled him into your arms within a second, just a quick squeeze before remembering where you were. You pulled away, pouting, “You didn’t tell me you’d be back.”

“Sorry, it slipped my mind. I also didn’t think I’d have enough time to meet you. Not properly…”

You wiggled your eyebrows, “What does that mean?” Jun blushed, making you laugh. “I’m kidding, A-Jun. But I’m glad we ran into each other. I mean, what are the odds!”

“I didn’t even know whether you still lived here,” he admitted, sheepishly. But Jun wished profoundly that you could feel how earnest he was being. You didn’t actually seem to mind his failure to alert you of his arrival, despite your history. Instead, you continued in your usual chirpy manner, “Yeah, I managed to find work close by so I could stay here. But I’m here here just for the holiday. Staying at my parents, you know.” Jun nodded, accompanying you to the register under more animated chatter.

“Do you have to get anything else?” You asked after you had stepped out the open market. He negated, returning the question.

“Me neither,” you replied, hesitating shortly before continuing, “I guess that means we’ll have to part ways again…”

The way your voice trailed off and your eyebrows knitted together made Jun reply before thinking better of it, “Actually, I think my mā can wait for these bamboo shoots a little longer…” You face lit up with such intensity and immediacy that Jun had to chuckle.

“In that case let’s take a stroll through the park. I’ve been keeping up with Seventeen obviously, but I want to hear from you, personally, how you’ve been doing.”

Falling into step beside you felt so easy. Together, you walked the same paths you did when you were teenagers, talking about everything and anything – back before he had to leave for Korea. He talked a lot about the shoots, dorm fights and misunderstandings, and how much he had missed his mother’s cooking. You winked, asking whether he hadn’t missed you at all, and he couldn’t string together a coherent sentence in reply. Instead he sputtered for a few seconds before you let him off the hook.

“It’s fine. I was joking, Jun. Oh, look!” Jun was glad for the distraction as he watched you hurry of to the pavilion down the path. If you hadn’t changed the subject he might’ve said something stupid. But when you spun around to face him under the colourful roof, with the small pond and the bamboo in the background, he wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t say something stupid yet.

He was sitting next to you, listening to you rant about your catty co-workers, absent boss, and the general annoyances of adulthood, unable to stop himself from grinning like an idiot at the familiarity, the ease of the whole situation. At some point he shot his mom a text to let her know that he ran into you and to eat without him. She simply replied that he should take his time, but he felt like she was secretly glad to have the two of you reconnect. Your conversations veered from family to old memories together until eventually, when the sun had set almost completely, you got up abruptly.

“I should get back. My mom wasn’t expecting me back immediately but at this point she’s probably wondering if I’ve gotten lost.” Jun nodded, getting up with you and stepping out of the pavilion. You threw one look back over your shoulder before smiling down at your shoes.

“I don’t know if you remember but… this is where you said goodbye…” Jun blinked slowly before the memory registered. He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t immediately thought of the day he went to Korea, the last day he spent with you, the day he missed his chance to say so many things he had wanted to say.

“Oh,” he breathes softly, “yeah, I remember. But it’s not a very fun memory.”

Jun decides to look anywhere but you, at the trees lining the road home to his apartment building, the birds flying overhead, the children playing across the street.

“I have to agree. But I’m glad to have you back now. Even if it’s just for an afternoon.”

“Actually, you should visit tomorrow! If you want, of course. I don’t think my family would mind seeing you again after such a long time, and…”

He stops in his tracks. The two of you have reached the intersection at which your ways part. Jun turned to face you. The words were still stuck in his throat, just like all those years ago, just like every time he’s seen you since. But this time, with your hopeful eyes looking up at him, he takes a deep breath. This time will be different. He takes the leap.

“… and I’d also love to spend more time with you.”

You smile in reply, and agree to visit tomorrow. To say goodbye, you hug him again, and he feels like he’s floating all the way home. Maybe tomorrow he’ll gain the courage to tell you everything that he’s been keeping in his heart.

Their dorms were quiet, the shared living areas swallowed in darkness as Jun excited his room. He had been talking to his family via video call for the past hour or two, catching up and trying their best to celebrate Zhōngqiūjié together, even when they were physically apart. You had initially planned on joining the call, but there had been last minute plans that had kept you from it. Even though Jun understood, he had been able to help feeling a little crestfallen when you had told him about it. The two of you had made it work since he confessed to you a year ago, talking almost weekly on the phone because both his and your commitments kept you from visiting all too often. And since this year he couldn’t visit home because of the impeding comeback, he would’ve at least enjoyed talking to you on the holiday proper, instead of just during one of your regularly scheduled calls. Especially with how long it had been since he’d last seen you in person in June. To him, an eternity.

Vernon, Dokyeom, and Chan had returned to their families for the evening to celebrate Chuseok together, leaving the dorm deserted, save Jun himself. They’d all met up for lunch as a celebration before most left to go home. It was an effort by the Korean members to ease the homesickness of those that wouldn’t be able to see their families over the holiday. Seungkwan had ended up accompanying Vernon, while Joshua and Minghao decided to simply celebrate with each other, even though they hadn’t been lacking in invitations either. Jun had made the same decision. They had let him know they’d be out until the night but that he could join them at their apartment later.

Especially Dokyeom had had a hard time simply leaving Jun behind, but the older man had insisted that he was going to be fine, and that it would give him a chance to call his family in China. But coming out of his room and being greeted with a cold, dark apartment, made Jun question his decision. He sighed, contemplating for a second whether he should simply return to his room instead of feeling the hollow emptiness of their shared dorm. But before he could make a decision, the doorbell rang.

He wasn’t expecting anyone, so the sudden shrill of the bell surprised him. Maybe it was one of the members, back early. Maybe Minghao and Joshua had decided to surprise him at the apartment. But when he looked at the screen of the camera system, he was greeted with a sight wholly unexpected. His breath hitched as he looked at you, your eyes staring straight at the camera, a warm smile on your face. Jun buzzed you in, jittery with nerves as he worried you might disappear or he might wake up. You had been talking about your crazy workload and extra assignments for the past few weeks, how on earth were you here?

This has to be a dream, he thought, standing in the open door and waiting for the tell-tale ping of the elevator. When he heard it, he couldn’t even wait for you to round the corner. In slippers, he sprinted down the hallway to the lift, coming face to face with you as you were trying to heave your luggage out. Jun cast it aside, picking you up and spinning you around. He buried his face in the side of your neck, breathing in the scent of your perfume and your skin.

“How are you here?” He whispered after a good few seconds of spinning and listening to your tinkling laugh.

“Well, you know, I bought a plane ticket, went to the airport in Hong Kong, I got on a plane—“ Jun interrupted you by picking you up again, proclaiming his happiness while you insisted that he finally put you down. If he had been a better man, he might’ve listened immediately. As it stood, it took the two of you several minutes to make it the short way from the elevator to his apartment door, Jun stopping every few seconds to give you another spin or a kiss.

Once you had finally made it safely inside, he brought your luggage to his room, before returning to the shared space and staring at you in fascination. There you were, right in front of him, leaning onto the counters of his dorm’s kitchen as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“How did you know I’d be home?” He asked and you giggled, presumably at his flabbergasted expression.

“I kind of asked the members for help…”

“What? Who?”

In hindsight, he thought he should’ve expected this. There had been a curious lack of invitations extended to him this year. Especially considering that Joshua and Minghao were still invited everywhere. And, thinking about it now, the fact that the two of them had insisted on spending the evening ‘outside’ without Jun had also been more than a little suspicious.

“Almost all of them helped coordinate it, actually. They all had to be in on it to some extent.”

“When did you start planning this?” He asked, making his way over to you. One last time, he picked you up, setting you down softly on the counter. This time you let him do as he pleased without protest, choosing to answer his question instead, “Like a month ago or so. When it started becoming clear that you’d have no chance to make it home this year.” Jun hummed in response, stepping closer to stand between your legs. His arms found their place around your waist.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” he murmured, resting his head on your shoulder and sighing deeply when he felt you wrap your arms around him. He wished you could stay like this forever, or at least for a very, very long time. You turned your head, whispering that you had brought yuèbǐng from Shenzhen with you and he nodded automatically. Mentally, he was still focused only on your presence, the fact that he got to hold you in his arms and use his thumbs to draw absentminded circles on your waist. If he hadn’t been so focused on your body, he would’ve missed the small hitch of your breath as he exhaled against the column of your throat. He smirked lightly, murmuring something along the lines of ‘we can eat them later’ before attaching his lips to the place where your shoulder and neck met. You gasped, more audibly this time as he sucked on the sensitive skin, following the line of your collarbone. You tugged at his t-shirt, whispering that you should move to his bedroom but Jun smirked against your skin, slowly pushing up your shirt. As he tossed it over your head, he whispered, “Don’t worry, we’ve got the apartment to ourselves all night.”

He smoothed his hands under your thighs, grabbing onto your plush flesh and cursing the layer of your pants for stopping him from feeling your skin. Jun pulled you closer, to the edge of the counter, so that he could finally feel you pressed to him again, making his hands wander back up. He placed them on your waist, gingerly at first, as if you were going to vanish into thin air if he didn’t handle you with enough care. He still wasn’t sure you weren’t a figment of his imagination how you were sitting in front of him, hair and clothes messy from your flight, but your eyes shining so brightly he thought you were the most ethereal being on this planet. But when you bucked your hips forward against his, all that restrain flew out the window. He slid his hands lower from your waist, relishing in every inch of skin he got to touch along the way, before he settled them on your ass, encouraging your motions even further. Your arms tightened around him, one hand finding its way into his hair, the other toying with the collar of his t-shirt before slipping downwards and below the fabric to caress his back. He groaned, moving one hand - albeit reluctantly – away from your hips to tilt your head to the side. He was overwhelmed with your nearness, the swell of your breasts pressed against him, the smell of your skin filling his senses, spreading through him, expanding into every corner of his consciousness until all he could perceive was your presence, your breath, your skin on his.

You kissed him with so much vigour that he felt light-headed, the sparkle of your eyes encapsulated him, as if he was floating in space, surrounded by innumerable stars, twinkling around him. In his weightlessness, your hands were caressing him, still. You dropped them to the hem of his t-shirt, tracing along the exposed skin there as the rhythm of your hips never faltered.

You broke away, Jun following your lips with a whine. He wasn’t yet ready to leave your cosmos, but you pressed a soft hand against his chest, tugging his shirt off. Jun, personally, would have preferred to resume kissing you breathless right away, but you had other plans. Your hands returned to his chest, covering the expanse of his pectorals, gliding over the ridge of his shoulder, caressing every centimetre of skin while tracing the muscles across his torso. Every touch left a tingling feeling, pulling him deeper and deeper into your gravitation. His head was thrown back in pleasure, his eyes screwed shut while he tried (and failed) to even out his breathing under your attentive ministrations. When your hands returned to his chest and you flicked against his nipples tentatively, his head dropped forward in defeat, colliding with your shoulder.

He was breathing more heavily than he’d like to admit, as if he really was slowly rising through the atmosphere, the air becoming thinner and thinner. His cock was painfully hard, you grinding against it deliciously with every roll of your hips. Separated by way too many layers, Jun thought dimly before tapping against your ass, signalling for you to lift your hips off the counter.

You complied easily, leaning back in a way that allowed him to strip you of your comfy leggings. He watched you shudder at the feeling of cool marble under your skin, goosebumps forming at the sensation. Reverently, he let his hands glide up and down your legs, watching you shiver again, just from his touch. He hadn’t even realised that he had lowered himself down until one of your hands grabbed for his hair and tilted his head back.

Ripped out of his reverie, Jun stared up at you, towering over him, backlit by the kitchen lights. If it hadn’t meant leaving your reach, Jun would have fallen to his knees right this second. In this light, you looked like a higher being, come to cast divine judgement on him, a final reckoning. Jun found he would have taken any verdict, as long as it meant preserving your attention. He would have obliged any command, taken any punishment with equanimity. He would have taken Prometheus’ place, if it meant he could bask in your presence for another moment. He would suffer any acrimony, any scorn, any tribulation, if it meant your gaze would continue to rest on him like this – zeroed in on his face, your expression soft with adoration. He didn’t have to fear any judgment. The only thing written on your face was love. It was mirroring his own, he was sure, from where he was pleading for you attention from between your legs. You wouldn’t let him out of your sight, your fingers tugging at his hair with purpose. He angled his head, a miniscule movement, just enough to allow him to breathe a kiss against the inside of your thigh, a fluttering promise of continuation. If you let him. You loosened your grip, and Jun took it as the invitation that it was. His path mapped over the fat of your thigh, spilling over his kitchen counters, up one leg, down the other. All the while, he didn’t break eye contact, watching your expression crackle and slip, pleasure and frustration mixing in even measures as you breathed a plea, “Qīn'ài de, you’re teasing.”

His breathing became uneven, for just a second, at the term of endearment. You didn’t need to spell out your request. He could see it in the rise and fall of your chest, the sounds sneaking their way past your lips, the shifting of your hips – almost involuntary. The vision of you before him blurred as he tried to hear the rest of your declaration over the rushing in his ears. Your legs twitched under his hands; he didn’t remember when he had moved them there. But now they were here, holding your legs apart, leaving imprints in your flesh where they pressed against you. Jun searched your face for any sign of hesitance, any doubt, but he found none. All he could find was a sense of desperation clawing its way up your throat, leaving a blooming blush in its wake.

He still continued holding your gaze when he pressed his mouth to your core, pushing his tongue against the wet spot on your underwear. You gasped a little, hands twisting in his hair, the slight pain grounding him in this moment. His hands continued kneading your flesh, wandering, in feverish haste, across every expanse of skin they could cover. Above him, you writhed and moaned, his name leaving your lips as if you were now the one praying. Your head had tilted back slightly, breaking eye contact. But Jun’s gaze never left your face, drinking in every expression as he pushed your panties to the side to gain proper access to your sopping core.

“OhmygodJun,” you breathed, head lolling to the side when his tongue swirled around your most sensitive spot. One hand moved from your ass to your core, probing at your entrance just to feel you clench around him, hear the sharp intake of your breath. You tipped backwards, resting on your elbows as his name continued to tumble off your lips into the still air of the apartment. Jun’s other hand moved upwards, taking no care in pushing your sports bra out the way to grab at your breasts, pinching your nipples intermittently. He watched your chest heave as he slipped two fingers past your entrance at once, his tongue lapping between them, desperate to taste as much of you as possible. Your hands kept pushing him closer and closer, until his every sense was filled with you. Your taste on his tongue, your panting breath in his ears, the plush feeling of your thighs around his head. He moaned against your core.

Jun felt your high approach, maybe knew it was coming before you yourself even did, the way he could read your body in this moment, with how every fibre of his being was honed in on you and your pleasure.

“Jun, bǎobèi, I’m…”

His hand slid down to your waist, squeezing reassuringly. Jun felt you constrict around his digits, your moans growing louder and more desperate. He kept pressing his fingers into that spot that had you squeeze around him, kept his mouth sucking on your clit, humming at the flavour of you, until you peaked. You came with a cry of his name that made his chest swell with pride. Your thighs shut around his head like a vice, your hand evidently torn between wanting to pull him away and push him closer. Jun remained pressed to your core, lazily lapping at your release until your legs relaxed and he gained enough freedom of movement to lean back and search for your gaze.

Even though he had spent minutes staring at the ethereal picture of you earlier, he was still taken aback by your beauty: your hair even messier, your face blushed, your eyes glazed over in the hazy afterglow. He pressed another kiss to the inside of your thigh.

“How are you feeling, my love?”

It took you a few moments to answer him, calming your breath. A moment of which he took advantage to return to his full height, leaving kisses up your body on his way there. Once he was face to face with you, he brushed your hair out of your face, looking at you with devotion. You smiled back, softly, your arms wrapping around his shoulders and immediately causing a warm shiver to run down the length of his body. There you were, in his arms, gazing at him with love, bestowing him with whatever divine favour slumbered in your presence.

You leaned in closer, letting your breath ghost over his skin for a second before whispering, “I need you.”

Jun was sure he was about to malfunction. The way his body reacted instantly, unbidden, must have been proof of your power. He couldn’t suppress the groan that rose to the surface, betraying his helplessness in the face of you. But you only smiled, sliding off the counter, tossing your bra to the side, and leaning into him.

“I know you need me too, baby,” you susurrated against the shell of his ear, your hand falling to his crotch, smoothing over the outline of his cock against his sweatpants. Jun gasped when you gave his balls a squeeze, trailing your fingers back up, pressing them into his slit, already oozing with precum and staining his pants. He felt like melting, like he was Icarus and you were the sun, with the notable exception that your radiance was warm and welcoming. It didn’t burn him, it only made him feel soft, welcome, malleable. He melted at your touch, moulded himself to the shape of you.

Although Jun felt it was very much stating the obvious, he conceded, “I want you so bad.”

You smiled, discarding your panties in a swift motion, before turning around and bending over the surface.

“Then come get me.”

He only stared, transfixed by the way your muscles moved under your skin, how the warm kitchen light of his home cascaded over you, the way your eyes sparkled with mischief when you turned around to smirk at him. Jun’s mind was still fighting with the fact that you were real, you were here, and you were his. You cocked an eyebrow, watching him like a cat watched its supper. When he still continued to stare, your eyes darkened, beckoning him with intensity. You wiggled your ass at him, pushing it back so it grazed his throbbing dick. As you threatened to pull away again, Jun’s hands flew to your hips. You yelped at the sudden strength with which he gripped you, pulling you back against him once more, grinding down against your ass with such verve that your head dropped forward. A long groan escaped you as Jun crowded you against the counter, pushing you down and leaning over your back.

“You need me, huh?”

You nodded your head enthusiastically while meeting his thrusts, moaning his name again and again, and growing more breathless by the second. Jun wanted to tease you, he really did. He wanted to ask you how bad you needed him. He wanted to force you to be more specific, to hear you say how you needed to feel his cock inside you, hitting that spot over and over again. He wanted to make your pretty lips form all those filthy words, say his name, beg for him. But it had been months since he had seen you in person, it felt like an eternity had passed since his skin was last allowed to touch yours, a lifetime since he heard you whimper and moan and pant for him like this. So, he forewent any more teasing. Instead, Jun simply shoved his sweatpants and underwear down his legs, freeing his cock.

You whined at the sound of it hitting his abs, wiggling your ass again and breathing out his name in that way he would never grow tired of. He grinned, sliding his dick through your slick, nipping its tip against your clit, once, twice, three times. So many times that you whimpered, an indistinguishable string of supplications, whines of baby, please please please leaving your lips. Your forehead was pressed against the counter now, as if the cold, hard surface helped ground you in reality while Jun had his way with you.

When, finally, he slipped into you, both of you sighed. You voices mixing in the air of the kitchen that seemed to have been growing thinner by the second. Jun’s breathing was growing ragged, and he could tell you weren’t faring much better than him. He started moving, slowly at first, testing the waters and, yes, possibly also to rile you up a little more. But when you clenched around him, any self-control was thrown out the window. His hands on your lower back were shoving you down against the ice-cold surface, making you hiss. His hips snapping against your ass as he searched for that spot that would make you drool over the marble countertops.

“Fuck… yes! Baby, right there,” you groaned when he found it.

Jun leaned back down over you, his front pressed against your back, his hot breath by your ear, whispered prayers of your name escaping him. He drove into that spot relentlessly, repeatedly until you lost all function of speech, reduced only to swears and his name. Jun mirrored your vocabulary, one hand sneaking around your body to find your clit again and rub punishing circles. With the added stimulation of his hand, the pressure of his weight, and the way his cock was hitting that spongy part inside you again and again, you felt your pleasure crest alarmingly fast.

“Junjunjunjunjun,” you breathed, but, again, he somehow had known before you what was coming. His groans surrounded you, your perception narrowed to just the feeling and sound of him.

“Hold on a little longer, baby,” he breathed, and you barely registered it. Just nodding for the sake of nodding, praying his own release would find him fast.

“Doing so well, baby. So good for me,” he continued, almost to himself, baiting your release even more.

A few agonising, timeless moments passed until, “That’s it, let go. Come for me, baby. Come with me.”

Immediately, you released a sound somewhere between a groan and a whimper, you head falling forward again as your whole body tensed up. Jun followed your example, his head dropping against your shoulder as he drove his cock into you, prolonging both of your releases as much as possible, until the sensitivity forced him to pull out. He remained folded over you, so close that he could feel his cum drip out of you, landing on the kitchen floor with a small splat. The air felt too thin for any movement, so he remained draped over you, his thumb drew circles on your lower back until you returned to him, mumbling his name.

“Are you alright, qīn'ài de?”

You nodded almost imperceptibly, your hair sticking to the nape of your neck. Jun brushed it to the side, leaving a small peck where it had been.

“Nooo,” you whined, “I’m sweaty.”

“I don’t care,” he replied, matter-of-factly, smoothing his hand down your back one last time before peeling himself off you to get some tissue. His heart tore a little at the weak whine you let out in response to his absence.

“Don’t worry, I’m just trying to take care of you.”

You only whined more when he wiped the rest of your combined release from between your legs before also cleaning the floor. He caught your eyes from over your shoulder, smiling softly, and leaving another kiss on your back. After getting rid of the tissue, he pulled you off the counter, wrapping you up in his arms.

“You were amazing. I love you.”

He could hear the smile in your voice when you replied, “So were you, bǎobèi.”

“I can’t believe you’re really here…”

“I missed you something fierce,” you said by way of explanation.

“Me too. I miss you every day. Every hour.”

To his confusion, you smiled warmly at his pout, one hand caressing along the side of his face until it came to rest on his collarbone. You leaned in, lips ghosting against his in a silent promise, “Then let’s make the most of right now.”

Jun grinned, bending down to pick you up, laughing at the surprised yelp you let out.

“What on earth are you doing, Wen Junhui!”

“I think it’s time for a bath.”

“That is not what I was trying to insinuate!”

He wiggled his eyebrows, feeling his heart sore at your scandalised expression. Resting his forehead against yours, his eyes searched for yours, holding their stare for a few moments. With a smile on his lips and in his voice he murmured, “I don’t care what exactly we do in the bath, as long as we do it together.”

[bikananjarrus]

i have a few thoughts about how the lost hero actually sets up the darker tone for HoO really well and then. well. there was never any follow through.

now some of my hindsight about TLH is probably fueled by nostalgia (i actually am really fond of tlh and also i was 14 when i read. impressionable on my teen brain). i’ve reread it several times, but i have really strong memories of the first time i read the book too, and i just remember it having a very gloomy, dark vibe to it. (the way that TTC is set in winter and definitely feels like a winter book, this is the HoO equivalent for me.)

looking at the actual contents of the book, the book starting off with jason's pov, who has no idea who he is, so immediately the feeling is 'oh shit. something happened to this guy. and it's not good.' and then almost immediately after that, getting sucker punched with the “she's been looking for one of our campers, who’s been missing three days…her boyfriend. A guy named percy jackson.” percy??? thee percy jackson. MISSING???? (look, that put 14 year old me flat on the floor. it still hits. but in 2010 when we had no idea percy was going to even be in these books….you kinda just had to be there okay.)

alongside jason, we have piper, whose dad got kidnapped by a giant and she'd being blackmailed! all before she finds out she's a demigod!! like she's already having a ROUGH time. we find out leo was manipulated by gaea to use his flame powers, which resulted in the fire that killed his mom (genuinely wtf).

their quest starting the lead up to the second great prophecy, which is happening so soon after percy's great prophecy (like they JUST finished fighting a war. give them a chance to breathe dammit. but also implying that some major things stirred with the defeat of kronos. But how could there be something more horrifying than kronos?).

their quest taking them to all these abandoned and/or cold places (the run down wolf house, they're hiding in the sewers at one point, the cyclops lair in that abandoned warehouse, the cave where they shelter from the cold and where the hunters of artemis find them, boreas’s house being in canada, even the mall where they meet medea being empty iirc). jason being abandoned by his mother. piper feeling abandoned by a father who doesn't have enough time for her. leo being alone too (not his mom's fault she died; not his fault for the fire; but he's alone nonetheless). even their primary mode of transportation being flying on festus feels strange and out of the place, bc for so long, we were seeing through percy's eyes and he had to stay on the ground.

and then to end the book with jason dying, however briefly. literally a dead man walking from the very beginning.

the tone was something different and darker, and combined with percy, hazel, and frank going to alaska, the land beyond the gods, in SoN, we were really venturing into unknown territory. it felt like our heroes would be tested. that gaea truly was something to be feared, even more so than kronos, and that it would take the generation's seven greatest demigods to defeat her.

and then it never followed through with that set up.

[dearsaintavangeline]

Routes I Would Want For Damian Wayne's Character(because I desperately dont want him to become Batman)

1) TRAVEL ROUTE

• in my opinion, Damian's travel arc was really short. I was actually expecting it to be longer but instead he came to Gotham earlier.

i think travelling, learning new cultures, meeting new people would be better for Damian's character as he is seen to be always confused about who he is and who he wants to be.

one of his main things about Damian's character currently is him being confused about who he is and him not wanting to live under his parents shadow(which is why im not happy with the "damian is a mini bruce" or the "father like son" agenda they keep pushing in the comics but i will tak about that for another day)

if damian was away from his family like be was in the lazarus island, i think he have a better chance at finding out who he is because he is seperated from what others want him to be. also everything would be funnier imo

maybe Nika would join him and we could see Nika panicking about how to break the "Ra's al ghost" issue to him while Damian is just happy to have Nika with him. or we can have Suren&Damian&Maya trio(or dnd trio as me and my bff call them) reunion that would be so fun.

> my point is, I dont think Damian is meant for Gotham. I dont think Gotham is the route for him

2) SEPARATE VIGILANTE ROUTE

• I have seen SO many things about Damian creating his own persona, a one that he is comfortable with and i absolutely love the ideas even if its not my favourite one

shadowbird/blackbird/redbird/ghoul/caracal etc.. i have seen SO SO many things but i think "Shadowbird" and "Caracal" is my favourite one by far.

Shadowbird both follow his father side of the familys "bird theme" and his mother side of the familys "shadow theme" and in that sense i really like it.

i love Caracal because its really ironic considering caracal is a feline type creature and isnt on theme with the rest of his family😭😭 i find it funny

all of the names are very very nice and lovely imp i love all the original concepts!!

3)MEDICAL ROUTE

• i have two ideas for this one so i will separate them to make them easier to read

1)) nearly everyone knows this one. Its damian becoming a vet. i REALLY love this idea. I also love him moving to a cottage and opening up a clinic there. or maybe a farm too!!

2)) the second one is damian becoming a doctor.(surgeon to be exact) The reason for this idea is comes from him being a doctor to save lives to make up for the ones he ended.(since being a doctor is a very time consuming job so this kinda implies him stopping being a vigilante)

4)CIVILLIAN ROUTE

• I think one of damians main problems with not knowing who he is comes from the exceptations he has placed on himself because of the mantles/titles he had gotten in his life.(son of the demon/bat, heir to the demon, future batman, demonhead, robin etc..) if he were to be separated away from these he would at first maybe be confused with what to do but it would be better for him imo. i think he really could be in peace with himself if the civillian route were the case.

also there is something really sweet about him leaving the life of violence/fighting behind him considering his whole life has been filled with chaos.

i would love him being roomates with one of his friends(either Colin or with his cousin and brother Mara and Respawn)

5)ART ROUTE

• this one is a route where he goes to an art school in bludhaven(dont ask me why bludhaven it mostly because its a canon event for nearly most batkid to live there at least once) and becoming an artist!!

>>> If you have a route for Damian please tell me i love reading about damian!! <<<

[lulublack90]

Prompt 18 - Floo

@wolfstarmicrofic September 18, word count 571

Previous part First Wolfstar part

“What if I go ask father? He might be able to set something up,” Sirius chimed in the argument Remus and Regulus were having about how to lure Voldemort out into the open so they could plan their attack. 

“It can’t hurt,” Remus allowed. “He’s been an asset so far.”

“No,” Regulus glowered. “He can’t be trusted, especially not with something as important as this.”

“You’re just sore because he never made you the heir,” Sirius scoffed. “Right, who votes I go see Orion?” He looked around their gathered group, all of them put their hands in the air apart from Regulus. 

“Traitor,” Regulus glowered at James.

“Rorbey!” Sirius called, and a little pop alerted them to the elf’s arrival. 

“Yes, Master Sirius,” The elf said, bowing. 

“Is my father alone in the house?” He asked. Rorbey shook his head, his ears flapping slightly. 

“No, Sir. Mistress is there,” Rorbey replied.

“Could you come back and get me when he’s alone?” Sirius asked. Rorbey nodded yes. “Great, thank you, Rorbey,” And the little elf vanished. “Well, that’s that then,” He grinned, clapping his hands together. 

“Well, let’s hope, Father is more concerned about you than the Dark Lord,” Regulus scowled at Sirius and left the meeting, dragging his traitorous boyfriend behind him. 

It wasn’t long before Rorbey was back and apparating Sirius into the main drawing room, where Orion sat reading the Prophet. 

“Sirius!” He gasped, jumping to his feet and hugging his son tightly. “When you didn’t come after Rorbey had told you it was safe, I thought you wouldn’t come back,” Sirius could see the sadness in his father's eyes, and he tried to ignore it. 

“I’m sorry, I would have if I could, but there wasn’t the opportunity to get away,” His explanation softened the blow some but withheld the vital information that he couldn’t share. 

“Barty Crouch has changed his tune,” Orion changed the subject. “He seems less inclined to go out on the muggle hunts the others like to organise. He seems almost as though he doesn’t want to be a death eater any more,” Orion looked pointedly at his son. 

“Wow, who’d have thought it,” He said, taking a leaf out of Regulus’s book and forcing his face into an unpenetrable mask. Orion sighed. 

“Don’t shutter your face like that. You used to do that when you were trying to hide things from your Mother. I won’t ask anything, don’t worry, just don’t look at me with that blank face,” Orion's face fell as he pleaded with Sirius. Sirius let it crack a bit, and Orion’s smile returned. “There’s my handsome son. Now, why are you here?” 

“We need to know how to get Voldemort away from his followers and out in the open,” He told his father. Orion blinked at him in shock. 

“I’m not sure about that, son. Let me look into it, and I’ll send Rorbey to you with anything I come up with.”

“Rorbey, come here. Orion, where are you?” Walburga’s shrill voice broke the silence. Orion and Sirius jumped in their seats, Orion reacting first. 

“Quick, use the floo,” Orion urged him, pushing him towards the fireplace and summoning the pouch of green floo powder. It took him a precious second to figure out where to go, but once he decided, he stepped into the fire, tossing the powder as he went and calling out the address of Peter’s flat. 

Next part

[elon-btch]

Stand with us in these difficult moments in our lives

This is me, Ahmed At from Gaza 🍉🇵🇸🍉

I'd really appreciate it if you would share my donation campaign in your blog.

I am a father of 2 children. My oldest son has died in Gaza due to poor health care system.

My second child, is currently with her Mother in North of Gaza and i am not able to see her for more than 10 months.

I was forced displaced from North of Gaza to south of Gaza (currently at khanyounis) to take care of my old dad.

We need your help and support by spreading our campaign

Thanks in advance

Guys, please donate to help them! If you can't, share it with as many people as possible‼️‼️‼️

https://www.gofundme.com/f/urgent-help-me-meet-my-father-and-get-out-to-safety

[zozoko21]

Stand with us in these difficult moments in our lives

This is me, Ahmed from Gaza 🍉🇵🇸🍉

I'd really appreciate it if you would share my donation campaign in your blog.

I am a father of 2 children. My oldest son has died in Gaza due to poor health care system.

My second child, is currently with her Mother in North of Gaza and i am not able to see her for more than 10 months.

I was forced displaced from North of Gaza to south of Gaza (currently at khanyounis) to take care of my old dad.

We need your help and support by spreading our campaign

This donation campaign has been vetted by: @el-shab-hussein @moayesh @nabulsi

Thanks in advance

.

[ak319]

Village Boy x Fem civil servant reader

《Beloved's Veil》

(Warnings: will have themes like possession/horror and abuse) This story will have more than two parts, so enjoy🌼

"Do you like it this far, Ma'am? The village?" Odai’s voice cut through the soft hum of the engine, drawing your gaze to the rearview mirror where his eyes met yours.

"Yes, it’s quite peaceful. I've never lived in a village before."

"You’ll love it, Ma’am. It’s indeed peaceful, which is good for someone like you who enjoys working in a calm environment. The beauty here adds more to the experience." He smiled, his eyes glinting with nostalgia. "This is my second time here. I once drove the Commissioner on a visit. The people are kind too."

"Mhm." You nodded thoughtfully as Odai slowed the car down on a narrow street. Your eyes wandered, taking in the surroundings--quaint homes with old wooden doors, vibrant rugs hung on balconies, and villagers watching the car with curious eyes. "But even the smallest villages have their dark sides. Crime, hardship--they exist everywhere."

"Indeed, ma'am." Odai's voice took on a more serious edge. "I kept news of your arrival under wraps, which is why no one's gathering around our cars." You glanced back at the security vehicle trailing behind, steady and unobtrusive.

"Good," you mused, lighting a cigarette, the flicker of the flame momentarily catching your gaze. "Maybe they are not happy to get a new DC so soon." You chuckled softly, exhaling smoke into the still air. "And what about the other task I gave you? Judging by those wary glances, it might be working."

"Yes, ma'am. I handled it." You'd instructed Odai to spread rumors before your arrival, whispers about your uncompromising nature--how you were a stickler for the law, an officer with unshakeable honesty. It was a strategy you'd wanted to test, a way to plant seeds before even setting foot in Al Razeh. Spread your roots before you even step into the territory, you thought with quiet satisfaction, watching the smoke curl and dissipate into the air, like invisible tendrils laying claim to the village before you.

You, (Y/n), had just been appointed as the Deputy Commissioner, DC, of a district called Kamandik, and your new office--and residence--was nestled in the village of Al-Razeh. It was a quiet place, far from the hustle of the city, a change you welcomed after the long, exhausting journey. Coming from a distinguished family, it almost seemed like destiny had led you to this path. Your lineage boasted army officers, doctors, and civil servants. Your father, a retired military man, had served with distinction, and your mother, an army doctor, had met him through her service. It was that kind of background that had built your discipline and drive.

"Is the Assistant Commissioner going to be there?" you asked, gazing out at the unfamiliar landscape as you approached.

"He will arrive tomorrow, ma'am. His flight got cancelled for today." Odai replied.

Good. You felt a sense of relief. One less formality for today. You leaned back into the seat, letting the exhaustion sink in, already imagining the stillness of your new residence awaiting you.

═════ ◈ ═════

"But I want you to work with me, my son," the old man said, his shivering hands reaching out as his weak, but soft gaze fell upon his youngest. Habib--the kindest, gentlest, and most beautiful of his sons--stood there, looking down at his father. His pale green eyes and thin, golden locks were a wonder, something the village marveled at since his birth. His father, prayed each day that God would grant his son a life as beautiful as he appeared, for Habib had known nothing but pain because of this beauty--this curse.

"Baba, you know they don’t want me to," Habib began, his voice barely a whisper, catching in his throat before it could fully form. The familiar heaviness of his situation silenced him completely as soon as his oldest brother, Basim, strode into the room with an air of command.

"Baba, how many times must we go through this?" Basim’s voice cut through the room like a blade. "I told you--he is not working, and that’s final!"

"He is going to work in the store I go to! With me! He has to do something."

"Him? Are you serious? " Kadir despite being not having the desired strength at the moment stood up from the bed and Habib immediately supported him, his own eyes casted down in his brother's presence.

"Basim, you seem to forget that I am still alive," Kadir said, his voice low but firm, "and I am very much capable of making decisions for this house. Do you hear me?" His words hung in the air, heavy with authority, and Basim, eyes flickering between his father and younger brother, clenched his jaw before storming out of the room, leaving a tense silence in his wake.

Habib finally exhaled the breath he'd been holding, his shoulders sagging slightly. "Don’t be afraid, son," Kadir soothed, resting a reassuring hand on his son's cheek. "I’m here for you. I will always be."

Habib nodded, pressing his lips softly to his father’s weathered fingers. "Just follow what I tell you in the shop," Kadir continued, "and you’ll learn the work in no time."

Outwardly, the Jafaris appeared to be a humble, respectable family--Kadir himself was a respected elder in the community, with his two eldest sons already married. But beneath the surface, the Jafaris were infamous. And though it seemed like many things, perhaps the real reason for the rumors that clung to them like shadows was just one thing--Habib.

Habib woke with a start, his heart pounding as he scanned his dimly lit bedroom. The narrow terrace window was open, a detail he couldn't remember opening himself. No, wait, he had opened it earlier, hadn't he? The memory was foggy. He looked down at the book in his lap, the dim light from the terrace lamp casting strange shadows around the room. Quickly, he turned on the side lamp, its bright light offering a small sense of relief.

He ran his fingers over the pages of The Book of Kings. The words seemed to mirror his own sorrow: “On my heart, this pain and sorrow are so abundant, in mourning for you, the assault on my anxious heart is endless. O heart, you are with me, but you constantly mourn the lost beloved. Every day, we remember you, and at night, we weep for your love, as if my heart cannot reach any solace from your absence and this pain has no remedy.”

Indeed, there seemed to be no remedy. The ache and torment felt as fresh and unyielding as if it had happened just yesterday.

His footsteps were light as he stepped out of his chamber, and with a whispered prayer, he made his way to the kitchen. It was 10 p.m., and most people had gone to bed by 9. He had missed dinner once again. The worried faces of his parents flashed through his mind, contrasting sharply with the indifferent expressions of his brothers.

As he approached the dishes stacked in a corner--likely left there by his mother--he began to prepare his plate. Suddenly, a chill ran down his spine, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, signaling someone's presence behind him.

'No, please-'

The words of the cleric, Nazim, echoed in his mind: “Remember, my boy, never be afraid of anything, for these things feed on fear.” Despite the reminder, he remained paralyzed, his fear not only of the unknown but also of the possibility that it might be Basim, who wasn’t pleased with what Father had said earlier.

The plate in his hand nearly dropped when the person touched him. "God!--Uncle, it’s me, it’s me, Rahim. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you...""

"It’s alright, Rahim." The teenager, Rahim, was the son of Basim, his oldest nephew, and also his best friend. "Why are you awake?"

Rahim smirked and leaned against the counter. "Just couldn’t sleep," his playful demeanor shifted to concern as he took in his young uncle’s appearance. "Uncle... were you sick again?"

"I’m always sick, nothing to worry about."

"You should take better care of yourself. I worry about you. And..." Rahim hesitated, "I doubt that--"

"Rahim, I’m fine. And no, it’s gone. Long gone. Believe me. I’m just... going through some side effects."

"Wow, all that pain and now side effects too, even when you’re free from it? It’s been years! You should see an actual doctor." Rahim was just a toddler when his uncle was afflicted in a way he never imagined possible. Yet, he remembered it all like a vivid nightmare.

"Rahim, please. I am fine," Habib reassured, his voice soft but firm, trying to mask the lingering shadows of his past.

The boy decided to drop the topic for now with an unconvinced sigh. "I brought those pastries you love."

"Why?! You know Brother Basim--"

"Uncle, please. It’s my pocket money, and I get to buy whatever I want for whoever I want." Rahim smiled, and Habib couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound light and comforting in the quiet of the kitchen.

Rahim’s grin widened. He always loved seeing his uncle, who was more like an older brother to him, happy. "Shall I make tea?"

"No, I'll make it. I don't want you waking the whole house."

The two chatted softly, the kitchen door closed to keep their voices from carrying. Basim would be furious if he knew they were up.

"Oh, how could I forget to tell you! When me and my friends were playing, we saw the new DC’s car. She’s here. And from what we’ve heard, she’s very upright and strict too. Which I think is a good thing, considering the previous one was lousy as hell."

"We’ve never had a female DC before, have we?" Habib wondered aloud, trying to recall if he had ever seen any officer around or remembered the last DC’s name.

"Um, no. And do you know her bungalow walls are so high, you can’t see past them! Imagine how cool it must be from the inside. Plus, all the cameras and stuff, which I heard they’re going to put around the village too."

"Mhm, nice." Habib nodded, his smile fading slightly as he sipped his tea. The conversation about the new DC and the changes in the village did little to distract him from the quiet sadness that lingered in his heart.

➺Part II

[fakescenariosbeforesleepblog]

By fire and heart. Pt. 8

Daemma Targaryen. Second daughter of King Viserys and queen Aemma, you're the living portrait of your mother with the character of a true dragon, as a second daughter you don't have right to the throne but certainly, you will protect your sister's succession by heart.

Warning ⚠️: Credits of this images goes to the TikTok user ccarmyy! Grammatical and spelling errors, maybe this won't be good enough but In my head the story was a good one.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

You arrived to the north and instantly ran to your future husband, hugging him, drowning in his scent, the desire you've been containing during the trip disappears as soon as you and him are in your chambers, he was a wolf riding a dragon and you were a dragon devouring a wolf.

The room was destroyed just like your dress and every clothe, you used every chair, every table, all your bed, and you still needed more.

«I'm your betrothed, it doesn't matter if we share our bed before the wedding, I'm already yours my lord.»

You were happy, you weren't sure if it was because of him, because you loved him or if it was the fact that all your desires were attended.

While you're enjoying and exploring new horizons of your femininity and the love between a man and a woman, at the other site of the kingdom, your father gave his last breath and your half brother is trying to escape the throne and the crown that his mother and grandfather want to put over his head.

You don't even imagine it, until you're taking a bath, eyes close, suddenly some visions, are tormenting you.

Aegon wearing a crown, Rhaenyra wearing another, you can see blood in their hands, hearing screams and pleadings, one of Aegon's children, you riding the back of a wolf, dragons roaring and spitting fire everywhere, Thank to the gods your future husband is close to hearing your heavy breathing, bringing you back to your reality with a touch in your shoulder.

- What's wrong with my warrior princess?

- I... I don't know, I'm sorry... Perhaps I'm just tired my Lord.

Smiling instantly you're trying to hide the obvious anxiety that is eating you alive, you can't fool him but he knows there's no point in insisting, you will talk about this when you feel ready so he only kisses you softly and leaves you to rest while he goes to attend his usual tasks.

For the next few days you've been keeping him busy in your chambers, fulfilling your marital duties, even though, you're not married yet.

Your place as the future lady of the north has also a lot of duties, so, during the day you're the lady of the north but at night, you're still the warrior princess, the one who rides the wolf of the north, the one who made the strongest alliance in the name of her sister.

You're In the training yard observing your future husband, when the wind whispers something in your ear, or at least that's what you think, you're alone, there's no one close to you.

«The greens are coming for you...»

Cregan suddenly is running to you, you didn't even feel it, you were falling, fainting. You ended up on the ground, Cregan instantly asked for help, everybody took you to your chambers, you don't know how much you slept, but In your sleep you could hear the roars of dragons, your sister screaming in pain, you had visions about a baby with a dragon tail, scales, feet and hands; you saw your father's crown, you heard the voice of your uncle whispering «Luke is deep in the sea... The queen of the seven kingdoms...and the princess who protects her...»

Cregan stayed at your side, hearing you mumbling strange things about war, about kings confronting and burning the world and how the gods were whispering and showing you the future. He thought the fever was attacking you, taking the best of you, another lady that would die in his arms.

Meanwhile your sister is dealing with the war that is approaching, dealing with the pain of her child's death, the little Visenya, who came to this world before her time.

Your sister is in need of help, her spirit is stronger than ever but her heart is weak, the pain is invading it.

She knows she needs any house big or small, she needs as many people as possible on her side. Messengers are on their way to every corner of the kingdom, some dragon raiders too.

Soon or later, the news will knock on your door. Your nephews are on their way to different sites of the kingdom,while you still can't wake up from your dream.

The tragedy following Rhaenyra as a shadow, you're the last light of hope, she never realized how strong it was the bond between you and her, since that day, when both destiny was sealed.

Daemon, received the news first, he had a soft voice only for Rhaenyra, softly telling her the horror her son lived in before leaving this world.

Lucerys Velaryon, the prince, the messenger that never came back home and Arrax, his young and brave dragon, defeated his rider until the end, the little beast dared to attack the largest and oldest Dragon, Vhagar. No one would ever know the bravery of the young prince and his dragon had to confront his uncle and his giant beast.

«Arrax! Luke! Where are you?...»

In your dream, you can hear your nephew calling you, you can hear the roaring of Arrax, you can only see silhouettes, poor you, you can't imagine what is happening in the real world.

Cregan has left your side, he still has duties to attend. But you have your maidens taking good care of you.

Targaryen are dreamers, some of them believe in what they see, some others, don't. But you're one who decides to believe them. As for magic, you wake up, gasping loudly, your maidens are instantly trying to calm you, they're more anxious than you, your mind is focused on your family, then someone informs you, your nephew, Jacaerys came to leave a message for you and Lord Stark.

- Bring me a coat, I have to see my nephew, now!

Everybody in the room is running, preparing you a bath and clothes, even though your servants told you, Cregan and Jace are on the wall, you don't care, you will fly in your dragon if it is necessary but you have to talk with Jace.

You're ready to leave when the doors of the entrance are opening. They're back, you run to Cregan, he catches your face between his hands, observing if You're okay, Jace is quiet, observing both interaction, as soon as you plant your eyes on him you hug him tightly.

- Jace, what is it, what is going on, why are you here?

- Aunt Daemma, I bring news, unfortunately not good ones. Cregan told me you were sick but you seem healthy.

- I am perfectly fine, I just... Had a vision or something. Doesn't matter right now, tell me, what are the news.

And while Jacaerys talks, you feel more and more sure about your dreams, your visions and all that happened in your sleep. At least nothing is completely bad, Cregan and Jacaerys are good friends and allies, if you already had the north in your hand, the fact that your nephew came personally to ask for help kindly without threat made this alliance stronger than ever.

- To win a war you have to know who your allies are, I'm so glad you had the chance to talk and meet Lord Stark.

The three of you are in a deep and important conversation, negotiating the last details of this alliance when a man comes to Cregan with a letter, a raven from Dragonstone, while he's reading, his expression starts to get cold and serious, you don't have to ask, you can bet it is about Lucerys and you were not wrong, Jace is young but is also a strong Targaryen who knows the importance of keeping the pain and the sadness for another moment.

Cregan, as the gentleman and leader that he is, understands perfectly your decision to leave. You have to go home, support your sister and fight at her side, now that you're sure he will keep his word, you can go and do the necessary to help.

- I'm not only loyal to our queen, I'm loyal to you, Daemma. The north will be waiting for your commands, and I will be waiting for my wife's return.

Kissing your forehead, your hands and your lips deeply, holding you tightly and wishing you good luck, he says goodbye.

You and Jace embark on the journey, but before going to dragonstone, you decide to make a quick stop, alone, at Kingslanding.

You had to be far or fly too high to not be seen by the guards, you're waiting in the sky, expecting a distraction to finally land not so far from the city.

Aemond's arrival is the perfect distraction, now you're taking the hidden halls of the castle, once you're sure you're in Aemond's chambers, you can see him, walking from one side to the room to another, biting his nails, too distracted by his own mind.

You consider killing him, right there and no one would expect it. Unfortunately, your anger and the poison you've been containing pushes you to ruin your best chance.

- How stupid you have to be to think that an old dragon who has been in battle its entire life wouldn't attack to kill? Also, it is ironic... You said they are bastards and yet, you gave him a classic Targaryen dead, he died riding his dragon.

He doesn't act surprised, but you're sure you scared him and quickly made him furious.

- How stupid you have to be to come here alone and talk to me in that way, Daemma?

- Oh Aemond, don't think I'm afraid of you, if I wanted I could kill you, you would be dead already, but it is not me who has to make you pay for what you've done, I'm here with the only intention to know why.

You know you messed up, you could take revenge but that silly mistake now has you playing a risky card.

- You can't be serious. All the long journey to just know why I did what I did? Doesn't matter, what is done, it's done.

He walks slowly in your direction, you don't step back, you have to keep your defiant position but also you have to make him feel like you're not an enemy right now.

- Really? Is that what your mother told you? The queen must be... Very pleased, after all, she was a great influence who helped and supported Rhaenyra's usurpation throne.

- The queen doesn't know what she wants anymore.

- Of course not, the queen has always spoken with two tongues, she has always been divided between her father and her childhood friend, that always has been her problem, but in the end she chose to be her father's puppet.

- Watch your tongue, Daemma, she's still my mother I will not allow you to talk about her in that way.

Time to move on, leave that conversation behind.

-I always considered you as the smartest one. You know? And with all that is happening right now I've been thinking about how unfair it must be for you to not be named as king.

His tensed jaw makes you calculate your words, you have to be careful.

-You're smarter, stronger and a great knight. Don't take me wrong, I do not intend to provoke you, I'm just pointing at the obvious.

He looks at you confused, somehow he's expecting anxiously for your next words.

- You and I, we have more in common than what you think. We're the second ones. We've been proving we're better than our siblings our entire life, with time I accepted my destiny but you, Aemond you don't have to make the same mistake. I think you deserve more...

- Be clear, Daemma.

You stand in front of him, touching his hair softly, looking at him with big bright eyes, praying to make your magic or have some luck to at least have a chance to escape by fooling him touching a weak fiber inside him, whispering the last words in the most sweet and innocent way you could, so close to his ear that your lips are almost caressing it.

- The crown should be yours, my king...

Aemond doesn't show any emotion, for a second you think you're making more and more mistakes so you look down at the skirts of your dress, when his large hand takes your chin to make you face him again.

- Why are you saying all this?

- Because I know myself, my sister and I know Aegon, none of us would be good leaders, but you, Aemond, you have what we don't, I've seen it in dreams, you will be sitting on the throne.

Perhaps you say all those lies with much confidence or maybe you had the luck you prayed for. But Aemond smiles a little, convinced, pleased with your words.

- You're saying all this with a reason, tell me what is it.

- I said I wouldn't be good sitting on the throne to rule, I just want... Dragonstone, I want to be the owner of something, that's all.

He's about to ask more questions when a guard knocks on his door. Without opening the doors and with a loud and cold voice he demands to know why are they interrupting him.

- What is it?

«Ah... Pardon me, my prince, but your brother requested your presence at the small council.»

- See? Aegon can't handle the responsibilities, he's weak and easy to persuade, but you're different, you're difficult and impulsive, that's your advantage. You have to clean your path on this side and I'll do it on mine, do we have a deal?.

You whisper again feeling like a snake, filling his system with your poison, feeding his desires with false hopes and lies, because it's not your intention to betray your sister, you only want to escape. He looks back at you, caressing your chin, observing cautiously in your eyes, looking for any signs of lies, but maybe you played well, since he nodded in silence and left the room, as quick as he disappeared you did the same, coming back to your dragon, going home.

While you were in the sky, your sister was looking for her son, anything that could belong to Lucerys Velaryon.

Meanwhile the greens are struggling, different objectives, different causes and motives are on the table. Did you create more cracks?.

As soon as the moon is lighting the sky, you appear and soon, Rhaenyra does it too.

She doesn't even talk to you, or someone else in the room, some men welcomed you but that was all, her rage and grief were palpable.

After some people inform the advances, she listens or at least you would like to think she does. But the only thing she says, is something none of you weren't expecting.

- I want Aemond Targaryen.

Just like that, she doesn't say anything else and leaves the room. Daemon left minutes later, you feel like a ghost, not many people notice you, now you're feeling like the young version of yourself, isolated, wondering if you made the right decision leaving your comfortable place in the north.

Jace convinced you to go with him to have a private meeting with his mother, once there, you're behind the young man, who's hardly trying to not show how much the loss of his brother is affecting him.

- Your grace.

Both say in one voice, curtsying, Rhaenyra stays on her seat, her puffy eyes reveal all the tears she had been pouring.

Jace says something about a dragon in vale, then he mentions the men and the loyalty the north promised, his voice is cracking and suddenly Rhaenyra stops to play her character as queen and changes it for the mother figure her son needs.

You're still behind, unsure of what to do, the moment seems intimate and private, but then, Rhaenyra looks at you and without stopping the hug with her son, she offers one hand, indicating you can approach, instantly you run and join to the hug, sobbing and apologizing for not being here before.

The funeral was bitter and full of sadness, but somehow brought more union between your family. But Daemon mysteriously disappears, no one knows where he is, but you know his absence is something to worry about.

At the hour of the owl, walking between the walls and In front of everybody's noses, the revenge walked, the blood was soon to be spilled.

«The queen of dreams and the queen of dragons tied by the loss of an innocent»

The whisper wakes you up, you don't know why or how, but instantly you walk around dragonstone, checking on every kids room, because you were not prepared to lose someone else.

[quins-makeshift-menagerie]

Brb gotta just yell into the void

[thebirdandhersong]

sometimes (very often) I just sit there like ?????????

[biblicalhorror]

My relationship with my mom has come such a long way in the past few years only to come crashing down the second I try to do something nice for my dad and/or acknowledge that she is not the main character of the universe ://

[nasa-real]

Peopwe awways fowget that the Sun is too a staw, bound atoms of hydwogen and hewium, wandewing the heavens the same as the west. The sun, envied by othew staws in the sky, pwaced high on a Pedestaw above aww, fowced to be compwetewy and uttewwy awonye. Weww, maybe nyot compwetewy, thewe is the moon.

The sun and moon, the mighty two of the heavens, who onwy twuwy come face-to-face on a sowaw ecwipse.

But the moon, she is a distant cweatuwe, emotionyawwy and physicawwy. Odd, so vewy odd, that the humans sees hew as a symbow of emotions, the sun thinks, but the sun is mistaken.

He is wight, fwom his pewspective, but fwom eawth’s pewspective, she is as cwose as cwose can be

very true

Love for @same-pic-of-the-sun-everyday