#and is that supposed to mean more than their mother's blessing and support?

[beyondthislifetime]

People who truly dislike Edwina Sharma are wild. Heaven forbid an 18 year old be charmed after being almost relentlessly pursued by an older man. Three married women, including her mother, are for the match. THE QUEEN is for the match. The only person saying he isn't right for her is her sister and like I'm sorry but my sister could swear that a man wasn't that into me and I would not listen if he BOUGHT ME A HORSE!???!!?!!

[carbondioxidewater]

Final part of ex-bodyguard!Toji...☁️ (-> Pt. 1) (-> Pt. 2) (-> masterlist)

ex-bodyguard!Toji who really wanted to leave you alone, but when he stood in front of you, your gaze meeting his, he couldn't believe his eyes. Because what lingered in your eyes, beyond the still present anger, was longing. Your whole body language told him to stay away from you, but that look of yours, full of passion, full of temptation, made him hope again.

ex-bodyguard!Toji who simply knew you too well. They say eyes are the gate to one's soul, and that was true, because yours bored right through his, lured him in like a man bewitched. And as much as you tried to hide it, he saw right through you. But he knew you were still too hurt at the moment, which is why he let it be. For now.

ex-bodyguard!Toji who found out you rejected that guy. And he knew then and there that it wasn't over, that he couldn't let go. He decided in that moment that he would fight for you.

ex-bodyguard!Toji who was hopelessly devoted to you again. He almost gave up on you - almost, because how was he supposed to live without you now that he's got a taste of heaven?

ex-bodyguard!Toji who sent flowers to your job, to your house, even left gifts at your doorstep - always with a little card attached to them, apologizing and begging. He was going to win you back at all costs. And it worked, because slowly, you let your walls fall, let your coldness towards him warm up.

ex-bodyguard!Toji who was such a smooth talker. The way he flirted with you made you feel like the most desirable being on earth. Your bare existence was his most valuable treasure.

ex-bodyguard!Toji who made it all feel just like magic. He courted you like a gentleman which caused you to feel lightheaded, but most importantly, he made you fall for him all over again.

ex-bodyguard!Toji who promised you he was being genuine, who explained everything to you - from his early childhood to this very moment. He told you how his clan treated him like garbage because he wasn't 'good enough'. And you too gave him a thorough insight into your life, confessing that your father never cared about you unless you were of any use to him. The fact he entrusted you with his vulnerability made you feel connected to him in a way you haven't before. Your bond strengthened to the point you started to understand each other entirely.

ex-bodyguard!Toji who kissed you like it was your first time, gentle yet intense; who fulfilled your every wish.

boyfriend!Toji whose greatest gift was your forgiveness and whose biggest pride was the possession of your precious heart. He wouldn't lose you again, and if he did, he would lose himself too.

boyfriend!Toji who didn't take long to pull out the ring, and it took even less time for you to accept the proposal. Your time together was the purest bliss, true euphoria, ecstasy. You spent all your free time together, so obsessed were you with each other. You couldn't believe you were going to be a wife - and his at that. And you also would've never thought he'd take over your surname, the one of your loving mother. You sure were the luckiest woman alive.

husband!Toji who never stopped the honeymoon phase treatment, loving on you more and more each day, like a man gone mad - deprived of you like a plant without water whenever you were gone for more than a few hours. He was attached, but so were you. You simply couldn't take your hands off of each other and you could never get enough.

husband!Toji who named your son Megumi, because it means 'blessing'. What name could be more fitting, considering the love of his life gave him a perfect mixture of their shared love - of you and him? He sure was the luckiest man alive.

husband!Toji who supported you through thick and thin, through pregnancy, birth and - eventually - sickness. As hopeless as it was.

husband!Toji who did lose you in the end, and as promised, himself as well. Who grieved your death like his own life came to an end, like the world caved in. He was just a corpse waiting to get buried. And suddenly, he was the unluckiest man alive.

widower!Toji who abandoned his one last blessing, because nothing on this entire earth could ever make him happy again. The sight of your features on his face made it unbearable to be near him.

widower!Toji who took the wrong jobs, the ones that put his life in danger, because he didn't see worth in it anyway; who risked everything because nothing mattered anymore.

widower!Toji whose game played out in the end, who finally was granted his wish when one job went wrong, who could join you in the afterlife and spend eternity alongside you...

(Wrote this with the biggest headache ever cuz I had a long day and already wrote and posted another post today but I can't disappoint y'all)

[galene-gothic]

“you need to belong to you”

romanticise yourself, not celebrities:

i’ll start by saying that fans sexualising the one direction members at liam payne’s funeral, as if it was not a funeral but a normal appearance is truly disheartening and disgusting. it shows how far we have strayed away from ourselves, how far we have strayed away from basic human decency, empathy and understanding. fans singing ‘strip that down’ after he passed away in his memory or supposedly to honour him needs to be studied too (like literally, there’s no way people are that stupid, it’s like our ability to understand what’s appropriate and what’s not has been completely erased from within us). another thing is how after he passed away everyone started harassing his ex girlfriend who talked about his allegedly abusive behaviour as if it was her fault. “he was so much receiving hate” or maybe he was being held accountable for something that he may have done? it’s always ‘girl’s girl’, ‘women support women’ and ‘always believe the victim’ until your favourite is involved.

also, something that has been really acceptable recently (especially in the entertainment industry) has been home-wrecking. i genuinely think that the man is more at fault in such situations but that doesn’t mean that we don’t hold the woman accountable because it is very dishonourable to be attracted to unavailable people even if they are the ones coming onto you. even if you’re attracted, you’re supposed to have enough self respect and discernment to not just go with the flow of emotions and instincts. the most unfortunate of it all is how we abandon basic human decency and morals in order to defend these celebrities. yes, i’m talking about people who make excuses “but she just dated someone’s ex”. yes, two weeks after the guy had a break up with his previous girlfriend and they were already talking. also, being with a man who has a son who’s around two years old and an ex girlfriend (a single mother at that), and singing “too bad your ex don’t do it for you” is just not it. it is their life and they’re celebrities, and this is not intended to be a post of hatred. i just hope that us humans as a collective have the understanding of right from wrong. let’s stop over-idealising celebrities and defending everything they do. taeil, a former nct member who turned out to be a sex offender despite his sweet and innocent public persona, and the burning sun scandal are all proof of how illusionary it all truly is. the diddy situation is proof that maybe just maybe, your life is better than theirs. yes, you may not possess enormous wealth or fame, you may not be regarded as a sex icon, or whatever it may be.

let’s learn how to see our blessings in the present moment even if it is hard and especially learn how to center our lives around ourselves. we are allowed to look up to celebrities, watch them and like them but let’s not separate from our life, truth, morality and integrity in favour of celebrities - ranging from pop stars to k-pop idols to actors and actresses. we should not think that we are better than them either but we should know ourselves enough to know that we are as great as we can be, that will come with time and practice. lastly, we should become less digital and more present, go out for a walk, try and touch grass even if it’s by yourself, without the company of anyone else. learn how to make a star of yourself. you do not need to be a celebrity or even just good looking to try and be your best self. now read the previous line again, the goal is to be ‘your best self’ and the first step to being that is going to require being yourself first. also, being your own because the body is just a vessel, do you really belong to you or are you easily consumed by others and circumstances? it is impossible to not be affected by your circumstances and surroundings at all but two people who go through the exact same situation or similar ones will come out of it differently - one will be at a loss, unable to even have a personal moral code or values, or even if they want to be a certain way, feel a certain way or maintain a certain mindset and life, they aren’t able to do so while the other person will grow to become more whole, they develop stronger morals and values, and are not only able to live accordingly but also instill the same onto others, not by words but through actions because nothing is more effective than leading by example. so, you need to belong to you, always. even if you admire others, you need to belong to you. even if you are curious about others, you need to belong to you. even if you desire connections, you need to belong to you.

[linkemon]

Confession headcanons

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you're interested.

Other headcanons from this series can be found here.

Part 1 | Part 3 of the confession headcanons.

This part contains: Sebek Zigvolt, Leona Kingscholar and Azul Ashengrotto.

Sebek Zigvolt

• Sebek would experience shock after shock before he even confessed his feelings. The first clash with reality would be the realization that he loves someone. What is it about you being on his mind all the time? That he would like to protect you from all the troubles surrounding you? That he feels boundless pride when you praise him for the smallest things? He can't sleep at night and gets up to do extra sets of push-ups to calm down. It would get to the point where he would get frustrated and ask Lilia for advice. Is this the ideal person to turn to in this situation? In his opinion for sure...

• How much fun Vanrouge would have at his expense! His, not so little anymore Sebek, experiences his first love affair. In addition, with a human being. What a chuckle of fate. Apparently, his student had learned something in life. Lilia would give Sebek some advice, not all of which would be entirely accurate. Well, he won't make everything easy for him! And it's funny to watch him hand you a rare Briar Valley frog and hope it wins your heart. It's a pity the knight didn't tell you that to get this frog he had to kill several magical creatures during the holidays, you would probably look at it differently...

• Sebek would have a hard time accepting the fact that he fell in love with a human. Of course, his opinion changed gradually as he got to know you, but realizing that he had done exactly what he sometimes criticized his mother for would be like a bucket of cold water. He even tried to find arguments against it but every time he saw your face in front of his eyes, he decided that he couldn't do it.

• He definitely ran for Malleus' "blessing" once he was sure he wanted to be with you. Of course, he solemnly promised that it would not interfere with his duties. The prince didn't mind. He was happy that he would have the opportunity to see his friend more often.

• Briar Valley still has some slightly old-fashioned traditions. Although Sebek is aware that couples date and break up, he is intentionally trying to marry you in the distant future, from the very beginning.

• His confession consisted of an oath. After all, he is a knight in flesh and blood. With a bouquet of wildflowers, he knelt down and announced that he was going to defend, protect and love you until his last breath. If you let him, he will try to be worthy of you, the lady of his heart. He came up with this idea while reading chivalric romances so the ride back to your dormitory on a white horse is basically a complete must-have...

Leona Kingscholar

• Leona would never be the first to admit the feeling growing in his heart. He has more important things on his mind than love. For example, a nap! And the fact that he ordered you to stay and sleep with him under threat was a completely different story.

• You decided to take matters into your own hands, because what is it supposed to be? You act like you're in a relationship. Your friends keep asking if you're a couple and you never know what to say, because they won't ask Kingscholar out of fear and it always falls on you. Grim sincerely hopes you are together. In his eyes, a rich prince means an endless supply of tuna. Even if he calls him a furball every chance he gets.

• One day, in a botanical garden, surrounded by beautiful flowers, you asked this one important question. Who wouldn't love me? That's what the sarcastic Leona said in response to your confession. Immediately afterwards, he squinted his eyes and happily went back to his fake nap.

• Outraged that he didn't even take you seriously, you tried to get up but failed. He hugged you tightly and pulled you to his chest. Only when you were so close to him did you realize how fast his heart was beating. You didn't know if all beasts were like that but the ghost of a smile on his lips confirmed your belief that they probably weren't. You didn't say anything for a moment, just listening to the fast rhythm. Just as you were about to say something, he opened his eyes and told you that you two could go out if you cared so much. Then he turned to his other side, saying that herbivores probably had nothing better to think about.

• Only on the verge of your sleep, wrapped in warmth, amid the scent of sweet flowers, did you hear a quiet voice in your ear "I love you", spoken in a deep and confident voice.

• You didn't want him to feel unpunished for such treatment, so for the next week you made it your goal to tell everyone you could that you were in a relationship. At first you thought it wouldn't bother him much, but when others started repeating it, he felt embarrassed, which he didn't hesitate to tell you when he really had had enough. At first it seemed to you that he wouldn't be much moved, but when others started repeating it, he felt embarrassed, which he didn't hesitate to tell you when he really had enough.

Azul Ashengrotto

• There is no way he would try to confess his love before he has tried every means available to him to see if you feel the same way. The idea of revealing himself to someone to such an extent terribly terrifies him. It doesn't matter that you saw him at his lowest point during the overblot, it doesn't change anything about it.

• He wouldn't send the twins to do anything related to this "project" as he called it in his head. He doesn't even talk about it because he knows they would be making fun of him for weeks to come, especially Floyd. The truth is that Jade realized it incredibly quickly, but he's waiting for the right opportunity to take advantage of it...

• Azul would have dozens of plans for every eventuality and somehow everything would still fall apart. The first and most important rule he adopted was to stay away from Mostro Lounge. He took you to his home sea under the pretext of sightseeing. If something went wrong, no one from the academy would see it and he would have time to collect himself. At this first point his perfect plan ended.

• First, something broke in your transportation to the museum he wanted to take you to. Then it turned out that the crab serving you didn't want to let you in, mumbling something about being late. Without losing his nerve, Azul proposed his plan B, which was a restaurant. Of course, previously checked by him. But what good is it, since the owner broke the tentacle and closed it that same morning, leaving only a note on the door that she was very sorry. On top of it all, his favorite alley in the underwater park was destroyed by a herd of wild seahorses. That sealed his defeat. He meant well but it didn't work out. Tired, he lowered his hat and rubbed his glasses, pretending that he had not spilled a tear of ink at all.

• You had to come to his aid because you couldn't watch him struggle with his thoughts. You placed a kiss on his cheek, telling him that you had fun because you spent a lot of time with him and that you were happy because he rarely gave up work for someone. This gave him confidence and with a sigh, he led you to a place he wasn't particularly fond of but one he knew would be quiet and peaceful. It was on one of the coral terraces that he hid in from kids who tormented him when he was little. When he confessed his feelings to you and you replied that you reciprocated them, he felt that at least now he would have happy memories of this place.

• Azul doesn't need to know that Jade exposed him some time ago and he sold you the information that his boss reciprocated your feelings for quite a favour...

[romana-after-dark]

Blessed be the Fruit: Chapter 4

Commander!Joel Miller x Handmaid!Reader

Series masterlist Join dark!Romana's tag list Dark!Romana's Masterlist

Summary: Joel fills you up. That's it. Thats the fic.

AN: It's pretty much smut

Content and Warnings: DARK JOEL! DUB CON!

Although no violent rape happens like in TWW, reader is under systemic misogyny and a society of ritualized sex abuse. Everything other than the violent rape scenes, everything that happen in either The Handmaids Tale book or show are liable to happen here including but not limited to discussion of rape, child abuse, child marriage, ritualized sexual abuse, sexual abuse in general, acts of violence, major character deaths, mentions of miscarriage but never shown and never pregnancies we know of. Big ole homophobia warning, specifically in regards to lesbophobia. As for Joel, PIV sex, breeding kink, degrading (slut, whore etc but thing like Raider!joel) forced breeding and breeding kink, power dynamics, Joel is not the good guy but he’s also not the worst, slightly rough sex but not violent. Warnings are liable to be added as the story goes but I’ll always update. As always if I miss something please tell me, but i extensively label my warnings and in the end media consumption is your own choice. If you would like to know if this is a happy ending or not you can message me and I’ll tell you that way I don’t spoil for everyone but you can decide if this is for you.

Immersability: Reader has long hair, can conceive children theoretically.

Additional warnings: SMUT CHAPTER spanking, spitting. BREEDING KINK, Joel insulting his wife tee hee. Gina slander.

Support writers, reblog and leave comments!

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

In Gilead, women were segregated by color. Pink was for child girls, white was for unmarried but marriage age women. This phase never lasted long. As soon as they were married, the wives of commanders got blue and wives of working women got green. Martha’s had tan, Aunts had brown, Handmaids red.

These colors were never supposed to mix, with the exception of the ceremony and when a mother or martha parented a child.

But you watched as Ellie’s white and Riley’s blue entangled together, but separating to their rightful distance.

“It’s not what you think!”

“We were just-”

Thinking fast, you shut the door to the panty, giving privacy in case Gina or Thomas come looking for you. “What the hell were you thinking!”

Ellie blinks up at you, surprised by the reaction, but Riley was still in panic mode, trying to protect Ellie. “She didn’t do anything, I swear, I just got caught up and tried to kiss her but she didn’t kiss me back!”

That was a lie, Ellie had been quite involved in the kiss.

“I don’t care that you were kissing!” You hiss.

Ellie narrowed her eyes. “You seem like you care.”

“I care because  if it had been Gina or the other Mrs. Miller, or commander Bedford or Lisa! You could be on the wall!”

She paused, watching your reaction before talking slowly, Riley slightly hyperventilating to her right. “Does that mean your… not going too…”

“Of course I’m not, jesus, you guys are just kids…” Truthfully, you didn’t know much about being gay outside of Gilead propaganda but you thought execution was awfully strong a punishment… and even still, Riley was only 16, and Ellie 14. There wasn’t much of a crime that could justify harming them. Ellie was trouble, that much was obvious, and it would take every resource Commander Miller had to keep her alive. You would be joining him and his brother in this attempt.

“I won't tell tell anyone.” you confirm to their great relief. “But you two have got to be more careful!”

“We will! I promise!” With that, Ellie took Riley’s hand and began to head out the door.

“Ellie!”

She dropped Riley’s hand, and the two scampered out the pantry. You grab the needed wine.

*

“Ellie give’n you any trouble? I notice she’s hanging around you a lot.” 

Joel asked, sipping his whiskey as you played chess. Conversation had come more and more easily, but seeing that tomorrow was the ceremony, you knew what tonight was going to entitle. Still, you appreciated the time spent playing the board game and chatting. It was a nice change. You had begun to really value these nights. It was a few times a week, on the nights Commander Miller wasn’t teaching Ellie or when he needed to get a good nights sleep. He made you feel like a person, and you began to feel more and more comfortable. The younger Commander Miller still attempted to talk to you, but you could not fully trust him, even if Angela did. Angela was really the only person you trusted inexplicably. A beautiful, smart, and powerful woman, Angela seemed to tow the line, knowing exactly how much she could get away with it. Of course, it helped that her commander was very lenient.

Gina had been getting worse. Her and Deborah liked to make little jabs at you when she was over or when you went with Mrs. Miller over to Thomas’ house. It seemed as if she had picked up on something. Did she know Joel and you spent time alone? Had she noticed you and Ellie spending more time? Was your friendship with Angela suspicious? Angela was not liked amongst the wives, and wives have nothing better to do than talk. 

Gina loved to make comments on your weight, but the ones that irked you the most were calling you quiet, saying you didn’t talk much, you weren’t interesting or didn’t have much going on in your head… whose fault was that? Ellie filled you in on Gina’s life before the Gilead. Gina was a part of the problem, a woman who ad championed anti-choice rallies and campaigning to shut down planned parenthood, to take away Obergefell v. Hodges, and using her blog and later vlogs to promote a traditional lifestyle. Gina stated proudly that she would not be allowing Sarah to attend college, and that her “homeschooling” focused on womanly tasks. Sarah would never have a chance to reach college, nor high school. It was Gina’s beliefs that you should be demure, quiet, and only speak when spoken to. You didn’t need a brain to have children. Why did she suddenly have a problems with you being quiet when her issue with Ellie was she talked too much.

“No, she’s nice company.” You had been teaching Ellie to read, Joel didn’t know that. 

A small smile peaked on Joel's face. “I think she’s lonely. Riley has wives duties now and she’s in kinda a limbo… more or less.”

You nod, besting him in the game with a final move. You consider whether your next words were your place or not, but said them anyway. “Has Commander Miller spoken to you about Commander Bedford?”

Joel’s eyes darkened at the mention. “He has, made me promise not to say anything to her… Doesn’t want her getting to secretive, but I damn near lost it when he told me.” He notices the board.

“Checkmate.”

“Well I’ll be damned…”

Standing, Joel shuffled over and resituated himself on the couch you were up. Up close, the fine lines of age were clear on his face but he was no less handsome, no less broad, the soft and sharp contrast of features melding together so perfectly striking. “You’re quite clever, you know?” Joel mused, placing a hand on your thigh.

Your voice is quiet, a juxtaposition to your bold words as you attempt to sound brave. You wanted so badly to be like Angela, to be like Ellie, to be brave in the face of the horrors. “I think a lot more of us are than you think.”

“And yet, you can’t even read.” His eyebrow raises in a challenge. For a moment you are so shocked by his words you cant even be offended. Then the statement settles. How dare he! How dare, as one of the founding members of The Sons of Jacob, he’s responsible for taking away your right to- Joel’s face melts into a smirk, and then into a chuckle. He was fucking with you.

“Oh, you’re joking.”

“Of course I am.” His soft laugh ends, his eyes stealing into something darker, and although his smile remains, the motive behind it changes. “But isn’t this better?”

That gets your attention. “... better?” 

“Yeah, better…” His hand creeps up a little more on your clothed thigh, leaning in just a bit more. “You don’t have to worry about anything but spreading your legs…” He pried your legs open and you allowed him access easily. “Get fucked…”

“You think that’s all we have to worry about?” Your attempt to sound strong was, frankly, pathetic. 

Joel’s hand went up quickly, cupping your sex over your thick dress and frumpy underwear not making you gasp nonetheless. “If you’re a good girl, yes.” His face was suddenly next to you, his breath hot on your skin as he spoke lowly. “Are you a good girl?”

You try to not cave, you try to at least put up a little bit of show to prove you aren’t that easy… but your mouth chases his lips, whimpering as he pulls away before you can take a bite. Between your legs is fire, melting to his touch that was just not enough, teasing, edging…

“I said,” He reiterated, voice dark and harsh now, lightening his touch on your mound. “Are… you… a… good girl?”

Your resolve broke quickly. “Yes, yes I’m a good girl!” Instinct forced you to buck up into his hand, desperate for more pleasure.

“Yes, you are.” Joel slips slotted against yours and you opened your mouth for him without thought. “Mmmm hungry girl…” he begins to rub your clit with the heel of his palm as his other hand laid you down. “Don’t you worry, I’ll make sure you fulfill your biological destiny, beautiful girl.” His hips settle between her legs, replacing his hand with the shadow of his hardening cock as he devoured you.

Joel’s hands moved to your thighs, squeezing and rubbing down your calves and to your ankles before pulling the skirt up to your waist. Your underwear were practically bloomers, not flattering by any means, but just still looked at you hungrily before taking his pocket knife out and-

“Joel?” You squeak, forgetting your formalities as a peak of fright flows through you.

“Hush now.” Joel covers your mouth and you freeze, but all he does is cut off your underwear. “Don’t wear any next time, we won’t have this problem.”

As soon as your mouth is released, Joel is flipping you over to your stomach and then pulling you up by your waist so that you are on your knees; your hands braced against the armrest of the red velvet couch. Suddenly, your ass and legs were cold as Joel flips up the cotton skirt. His left hand opened by his point and thumb wide, sliding between your cheeks as he began fingering you, dominant hand undoing his pants. Despite the blood pounding through your ears, you hear a *spit* and then a *fap fa fap* before he’s notched at your entrance. You don’t have a moment to breath before he’s pushing in halfway, pulling back, and then ramming directly into you, full length, full speed, full power.

“JOEL!” You scream, before a hand is slapped over your mouth again. “Goddamn, can’t keep quiet for one fucking minute.” Joel smacks your ass, not hard enough to leave a mark but to get your attention and god does it, forcing your cunt to inadvertently clench around him. “Fuck, you like that don’t you?” When you nod, he smacks you again, harder, making you cry out into his hand again, and then his face is nipping at your neck. “Or maybe you want to be heard, is that it? You like the thrill, the risk? Bet that’s why you fucked that guard, can’t get off without a little danger.” He removes his hand with another warning to “shut the fuck up, unless you wand Gina to hear.”

“No” you try to deny with a whine. “You feel so, oh commander, just feel so good!”

With a hand now free, he went back to his minstrations on your bundle of nerve, fucking you full of every inch of girth. “I bet you like being the other woman, you like lying between my wife's legs as she’s stuck helpless, watching you get stuff, watching you struggle to take it inside.”

“C-commander…” It was building quickly inside you, the wet squelch of your cunt telling him just how much his words affected you.

“Ready to be bred, to be filled, to carry my child as your belly swells… ugh, fuck…” The thought of you pregnant with his baby turned him on even more. The baby was Gina’s idea, something she wore down on his with constant nagging… so it really wasn’t his fault he was fucking the handmaid, right? That was the point wasn’t it?

“Wanna have your baby, Commander, wanna fullfill my, oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck! My biological destiny!”

“You will, beautiful, you will, no matter how many times I have to fuck you, no matter how many times Gina has to watch you stretch around my cock.”

Your arms can’t hold you anymore, the heat between your legs spreading to you whole body and melting you until you collapse on the couch, gripping on to the arm rest for dear life as Joel repeatedly rammed himself into your tightening channel. “Want her to watch.”

“Yeah, I bet you do, dirty girl.” Joel gripped your hair, yanking your face toward him and spitting on your face before shoving it back into the couch. 

“Want that bitch to suffer.” You mutter into the couch, muffled by half your face stuffed with the velvet coving. “Watch someone more worthy take your seed.”

“God DAMN!” His thrusts grew sloppy, but no less filling. “Need you to cum, need you to cum so I can fill you up.”

You’re panting, sweating, feeling his slide through your walls as you edge closer to your release. “Tell me.”

“Tell you what, beautiful?”

“Tell me I’m better than her.”

Joel groaned loudly in your ear before straightening up, gripping your hips for leverage. “You’re so much better than her, sweet girl. You’re pretty than her, more obedient, fuuuuuck, so much fuck tighter.”

“Jooooooel”

“I don’t even cum inside her anymore, because she’s not worthy to take my seed.” He was teetering on the edge, desperately trying to find stability in your body. “But you, pretty girl? I’m gonna give you every last drop, and make her watch you grow and feed my baby, all because you’re better than her.”

Getting ahead of it, Joel shoved your face into the armrest and you out scream your orgasm into it. Joel’s pounding never stopped as he spilled into your eagerly, clenching cunt. “Good girl, good fucking girl, take it all…” Joel collapsed above you and you had wished you had both gotten naked so you could feel his sweaty, stick skin on yours as he kept you plugged up…

Though you were fucked out, eyes closed and only have concious, Joel kisses your neck, fae, lips and eyes whisping sweet nothings about how beautiful you were, how perfect you took him, how you were a good girl.

His hand slithered under you, splaying it under your belly. “My good girl, gonna knock you up, I just know it.”

Still breathing heavily, you lazily attempt to kiss back whenever Joel’s lips reached yours, but it was more akin to mouthing at him. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” Joel nuzzled at your neck, kissing lightly. Couldn’t leave any marks.

“I’m better than her?”

A loud, wet, sloppy spit-and-tongue-filled kiss as Joel latched onto you with his mouth before unplugged your cum-soaked cunt. “By a million miles.”

*

Your next ceremony came and went, and you came on Joel’s cock once again, just as you did in his office again, and again, and again. Although he got you undressed, Joel  never undressed himself, only enough to free himself from the confined of his pants. You wondered why… but wondered what was underneath him clothes… you wonder as you touched yourself on nights he wasn’t with you.

Walking back from Fishes and Loaves with Angela, she wasn’t super talkative as she had a cough. The spring was making her allergies act up. As she parted, however, she caught you before you entered the hearshot of the Miller’s driver. “Listen, I can’t say much… but…” She looked around before continuing to your confused face. “Whatever happens tonight… just go with it, okay?”

Fear struck you, uncertain on what is interrupting your routine. “What?”

“Joel is going to ask you to dress up and get into a car… and just trust me, you’ll be okay.” She began to walk towards her home next door, but you grabbed at her sleep, panicking. “Wait, what do you mean? Why can’t you tell me?”

She looked apologetic. “I’m sorry, I love you but I don’t know how much I can trust you just yet.” She pulled away.

Enough distance was put between you that you could no longer speak freely and had to watch her red walk away as you wondered what could possibly be happening tonight…

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

This was mostly smut lmfao but thats okay. Got a lil into cucking Gina and that may come up earlier. Fuck Gina.

Next chapter, if you have watched or read the handmaids tale AU, you probably have an idea what's going to happen... but lets just say we'll have a special guest hahaha

Joel and his breeding kink... ANYWAYYYYYYY

LMK IF YOU WANT TO ME TAGGED!!

Please remember to reblog if you enjoy this fic, its the only real way to spread it!

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @dins-riduur-anthe @morallyinept @fan-fiction-floozy @med494 @taliarose12 @flvrdoll @k-ra @sam-2me @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @moriartyyouwhore @hereforthepedrofanfic @alwaysmicado @noisynightmarepoetry @kyloispunk @jenna-ortega @lunitareads @labyrinthofheartagrams @swimmjacket @magpiepillsjunior @stevngrant

[the-alexel-lucas]

On last week's trial in Agatha All Along, I'm of the opinion that they failed, or rather passed by technicalitie. The basis of the trial for Agatha was a sleepover in pajamas, a private and vulnerable place, and the ouiji board telling the coven to punish Agatha. While she's certainly not a good person, we got that in Wandavision, she's also more complex than that, which we also got in Wandavision, and I think they failed because they weren't supposed to punish her but went right for that. This was an opportunity for her to open up to them, and they didn't really give her a chance, the moment the easy way out of hurting the bad person was presented they went right for it. A coven is meant to be an environment to support, guide, and teach each other each person bringing something their own and unique, sharing in blessings and burdens alike as they said, and while Agatha isn't the best team player she does fill that role in the previous trials giving the others a push to complete it, but the moment it's Agatha's turn they don't follow through. It's only after they understand somewhat what Agatha lived through with her mother that Alice, unsurprisingly after the previous episode, acts to help her, unfortunately her actions were too rash triggering Agatha's absorption power, believe her or not if she can control it, instead of working with the others for a tamer solution. Instead they passed by hurting Agatha and allowing Alice to die. They failed to work as a coven and the punishment was death, hopefully this is a majority win situation. The road requires coven to open and only by working together can they prevail, death does not mean more for the individual at the end but a weakening and loss for the whole.

[thatgentlewife]

What am I supposed to do if I've always dreamed of becoming a mother, but my boyfriend has decided he does not want children?

I pray every day that he changes his mind or that I am blessed with a pregnancy, but I have been so depressed since finding out he doesn't want children that I find it hard to even get out of bed. I want to be a mother more than anything else.

We've been together for over 2 years and are very much in love, so although some people tell me to just leave him it isn't that easy...

I can really feel the pain in your words, and I’m so sorry you’re going through this. It’s heartbreaking when the person we love doesn’t share a dream that’s so deeply tied to who we are. I can imagine how confusing and painful this must be, especially after investing two years together and building a deep, loving bond.

Sometimes, even when two people care deeply about each other, their paths or dreams might diverge in ways that are difficult to reconcile. It’s okay to acknowledge that this is a huge thing to work through, and it’s natural to grieve a little for the future you’ve always pictured. Your dream of becoming a mother is beautiful and deserves to be honored and understood by your partner. It might help to have a gentle, open-hearted conversation with him—not to pressure or change him but to give him a window into how deeply this matters to you.

If he does remain firm in his stance, know that there’s no shame in acknowledging that your dreams are valid, and sometimes we have to make tough decisions for our long-term happiness and wholeness. It doesn’t mean you love him any less. It just means you’re also honoring the calling in your heart. Take your time, pray, and allow yourself the space to really explore what feels right.

I’ll be praying that you find peace, clarity, and strength, whatever you decide. Don’t hesitate to reach out to others for support; you don’t have to walk this path alone.

With sympathy,

Lovinglyysubmissive

[molotoph]

Today

by Hanan Alsallout

To every heart that still beats with mercy and humanity,

A week ago, I discovered that I am pregnant. This news was supposed to be a blessing that fills my heart with joy, but instead, it has become a new burden weighing heavily on me amidst these harsh conditions.

Every night, I ask myself: How will I protect this child? How can I provide them with life while we suffer under catastrophic conditions? In the freezing cold that seeps into our tattered tent, where my little child shivers from the cold, and my elderly mother-in-law grows weaker day by day!

With donations declining, we have become unable to secure even the most basic necessities. We are trying to endure, but we are in desperate need of any support that can give us a chance at life. Any help, no matter how small, could mean a warm meal, a blanket to shield us from the cold, or medicine that could save my life and the life of my unborn child.

I beg you, I fear that our situation will affect my child’s health before they even see the light of life. If you can offer any support, now is the most critical time, we need you more than ever.

Thank you from the depths of my heart to the generous hands that have reached out to us in our time of hardship, for your pure compassion, and for your unparalleled generosity.

[saras-devotionals]

Quiet Time 3/30

What am I feeling today?

Kinda frustrated and annoyed. There’s this guy and I want to lose feelings for him. I just don’t think anything could ever happen between us so for my sake and sanity I need to move on. But every time I think I’m fine, I see him again, and all the feelings come rushing back and it’s so frustrating! Anyways, I’m just feeling this way because I briefly saw him last night and then I dreamt about him and it brought back memories that I’m trying to put out of my mind because I just can’t take it anymore. I wish to be free of him.

Luke 14 NIV

(v. 3-5) “Jesus asked the Pharisees and experts in the law, “Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath or not?” But they remained silent. So taking hold of the man, he healed him and sent him on his way. Then he asked them, “If one of you has a child or an ox that falls into a well on the Sabbath day, will you not immediately pull it out?””

There’s not much to add to this other than it was kind of Jesus to heal on the Sabbath and tried to show how it would be similar to saving someone or something you love. You wouldn’t just let them suffer for another day but you would immediately try and rescue them!

(v. 11) “For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.””

Jesús used the parable of a wedding before he said this. That if you are a guest, you wouldn’t take the place of honor (like bridesmaids) otherwise you’d be escorted and embarrassed. And if you take the lowest place, the host will bring you up and take you to a better spot. All in all, it’s to support his point right here. We should not value ourselves so much higher than we are because we’ll be humbled. Rather if we already humble ourselves, we will eventually be exalted.

(v. 13-14) “But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.””

This applies to us now in who to love and care for. We should constantly be aware of the fact that there are people in need, people less fortunate than ourselves. It should be put on our hearts to care for them, to offer what we have, because we’re all human at the end of the day. Our lives are not more valuable than theirs.

(v. 26-27) ““If anyone comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters—yes, even their own life—such a person cannot be my disciple. And whoever does not carry their cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.”

This verse does not actually mean that we should hate our family or ourselves (we need to love them and us!). But instead, our love for Jesus should be far, far greater! Our love for Jesus should be so evident that all our other relationships appear as hate because of how great our love is for Jesus. Also, as disciples, we all need to deny ourselves and carry our cross daily!

(v. 28-33) ““Suppose one of you wants to build a tower. Won’t you first sit down and estimate the cost to see if you have enough money to complete it? For if you lay the foundation and are not able to finish it, everyone who sees it will ridicule you, saying, ‘This person began to build and wasn’t able to finish.’ “Or suppose a king is about to go to war against another king. Won’t he first sit down and consider whether he is able with ten thousand men to oppose the one coming against him with twenty thousand? If he is not able, he will send a delegation while the other is still a long way off and will ask for terms of peace. In the same way, those of you who do not give up everything you have cannot be my disciples.”

This scripture goes over what it’s like to count the cost of being a disciple. Before you become a Christian, you have to see whether you can be. Are you willing to commit the rest of your life to Christ? Are you willing to keep his commands every single day? Will you preach the word and evangelize? fulfilling the great commission because that’s what all his disciples are called to do, not just the ministry? there’s a lot you need to consider and if you’re not willing to give it all up for Christ, you can’t be his disciple, he says so himself.

[quincyhorst]

I really enjoy using this blog to share my favorite things from the Inazuma Fandom, and while I'm aware I still owe to talk about the ending of the Ina11 Champions League, I'd like to share something more recent instead.

Back on January 5th, the french fanbase had released its first Ina11 ROM Hack (I SUPPOSE), IE Ultimate. Pretty much a harder version of IE3 from what I've seen. Nonetheless, the moment I saw Pierre on the trailer I was HOOKED. What was that!? A stronger version of Rose Griffon for the story!?

...Turns out it was something more than that: A whole Euro B Team!

These screenshots come from a french Twitch streamer named Rems; I'll be using them to comment about what this team has to offer. The full stream seems to have been deleted unfortunately, but then again it wasn't a big loss. The dude not only sped up hissatsus at any chance, but he kept repeating the match everytime he feels like he's losing (Yes, that happens a lot here). Got boring at times :/

Here's the main team line up.

Because lack of RedoMata players, Slingshot brings up some sort of interesting combinations....

Wait a damn second....

WHAT!!!!!

...Anyways. Because this is a HARD IE3 mod, it means that everybody and their mother had to be buffed, including Ladji :') However instead of boosting his God Catch, they gave him... Maou The Hand? Okay? Not sure how to feel about Ladji abandoning god for the devil...

...Still neat.

Same thing with Fermín, I guess. Apparently they took Stinger from him (God Bless 🙏) and gave him something better.

"Tu Plot Armor no te va a salvar ahora, gilipollas."

...No comment on this specific screenshot, I just like to see Que and Juli cooperating together :D

Also presented without comment. Funfact, but this happened TWICE for the poor dude. Pain.

...Even if the playthrough itself was kinda boring, seeing this team was so good to me. Typically when seeing every single Euro B match vs the average IE player, it always ends with these teams getting steamrolled by 6 goals or something. For this ROM to take a different route and give them the justice they deserve, I love it!

Though there is few flaws, like that Jonas got excluded from the main team for some reason and some picked characters can be odd. But I'm very glad for this beautiful thing just to kick off 2024 🙏🥺 Shoutout to the creators of this ROM, @/Ytbrems and @/LacarpeM; please support them regardless of the language barrier :D

[rosellerivers19]

Damn it . . . RRR Headcanons here I go

Decided to finally make some head canons about RRR following the movie plotline kinda but being man enough to Queerify Ram and Bheem lets go.

Head canon No.1

Ram calls Bheem Diamond in English after the scene when Ram is introduced to bheem's fake family in RRR and Ram remembers his own family specifically his brother like in the movie but instead of making it brotherly I'll make it like Bheem seems like the first family he had outside of Sita and his Babai all his colleagues in the Police force were people he used but in that moment when he saw Bheem eating with his left hand and looking at Ram like that he knew that Bheem was different he was someone he'd grow to cherish like a Diamond. (I opted out of gold for some reason didn't like the sound of it). When Bheem asks Ram what Diamond means Ram lies and says it means brother in english like how Bheem calls Ram bhaiyya which means brother. Ram doesn't know why he lies he thinks its kinda funny Bheem doesn't know what it means an inside joke if you will. And since then Ram feels like his heart breaks a bit more when Bheem keeps calling him Bhaiyya he's supposed to feel like family but Bheem calling Ram Bhaiyya seems wrong for some reason. (he's realizing his feelings but plays it off like he's not used to affection from anyone else than his Babai and Sita).

I got this idea from an old movie I watched called Manam where the hero tells the heroine often that he loves her in english but she doesn't know english so she asks what it means and the hero lies saying it means to give something like a pen,pencil,paper etc. She doesn't find out what the saying "I love you" means till their wedding night.

Head canon No.2

Whenever Ram and Bheem hang out for what ever reasons after the whole um . . . Bheem getting whipped thing and the RRR plotline in general. As Bheem sleeps peacefully on Ram's bed because Ram insists looking as if he might actually break down if Bheem doesn't take the bed allowing Ram to sleep on the floor Ram often watches Bheem sleep (In a 'brotherly' way of course). His gaze drifts to Bheem's legs remembering the whippings Ram himself conducted on Bheem and feels intense sadness and often takes blessing from Bheem by putting a hand on Bheem's foot and then on his forehead its usually a blessing taken from Elders,husbands (take that as you will) or god. Ram believes Bheem to be someone blessed or divine because of how Bheem forgave Ram even after Ram betrayed Bheem in such a cruel way and Bheem still came back to aid Ram.

This head canon was also loosely inspired by another telugu movie I watched called Majilli where the heroine having a crush on the hero takes blessing from hero when he isn't looking because she wants to marry him this acknowledges her respect for him and they end up do getting married.

Head canon No.3

Ram felt like before it was his duty to marry Sita his mother wished for that and Sita was one of Ram's only family left and he fully intended on marrying Sita to fill that request to bond them eternally through marriage in order to get a piece of his family back in a way. But after Bheem was introduced into his life after Bheem saved him from his hanging he began pushing the idea of marrying Sita back and back trying to make excuses and why he would have to delay the marriage like defeating the British and whatnot. Sita also had a similar idea in mind but it wasn't as strong as Ram's sense of duty she'd actually be the one to say

"Baava I know marrying you is something Aunt (Ram's mother) wanted but I don't feel you need to keep the obligation anymore I am content just being your blood related family, your support system, your friend, I don't think it is my love is what drives you anymore."

Sita suspects that Ram was changed by Bheem somehow not suspecting romantic feelings because Homophobia was definitely a thing back then but Hell their Mythological freedom fighters they can be Gay.

This headcanon wasn't inspired by any movie in particular just the general concept of Duty which is very important in Hindu culture and I wanted to add this to make Ram a bit more complex thats it.

____________________________________________________________

I will make a part 2 later if people request it. Definitely gonna add something to the 1st head canon. But for now I'm tired so if you want some more headcanons or have some ideas tell me in the comments

[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 100

Read on Fanfiction.net or ao3.

---

Happy 100 chapters all! This was not the chapter I hoped to be 100 (it will be 102) but the story called for some additions to be written to help progress it, so this is now chapter 100! Thank you to those who are still reading this after 100 chapters!

---

Chapter 100

“It’ll be fine, Hermione,” Ron said, for what felt like the tenth time that morning. He finished putting the last sock on Rose’s little foot and then stood up, allowing his daughter to roll onto her tummy and try and wriggle herself forward ever so slightly to reach one of her toys.

Ron hadn’t been too impressed the first time she’d done that just two days ago, because she was only three months old and wasn’t supposed to be doing that just yet. But she was determined and insisted on rolling now whenever they placed her on her back.

“What’s she going to do in a joke shop for eight hours?” Hermione questioned, also for the tenth time that morning. “Especially now that she seems to want to move more.”

“I’ll bring her some toys,” Ron said. “And, George — I mean, we — have products on the shelf for kids her age.”

That wasn’t the right thing to say to Hermione, who’d always been mildly opposed to the products, no matter the age of their user. 

Ron sighed. “Are you going to wish me luck? It’s my first day, and I’m feeling a little nervous.”

Hermione’s eyes snapped from Rose and settled on Ron, and he saw her expression soften. “Good luck,” she said. “You’ll be great. You’re just working with your brother.”

“I think that’s the most terrifying part,” Ron confessed. In the days leading up to him starting at the shop, increasing doubts had crept into his mind, settling themself deep within the parts of his brain he’d worked on over the years. Would he be good enough? Was he capable of running a business? But the worst one was could he work with his brother? 

Their relationship in recent times had become positive. He and George got along rather well, and the incessant teasing he’d received when he was younger had abated as both of them matured. But they also only saw each other a few times a month, mostly at the Burrow under the watchful eye of their mother. This was something incredibly new for both of them, especially for Ron.  And they wouldn’t really be working together. Once Ron got settled, George would go back to managing the Diagon Alley shop and Ron would be solely in charge of the Hogsmeade one. They’d probably only meet once a week to sort things out or discuss new products. So, it probably wasn’t going to be too bad.

“You’ll be fine,” Hermione said, stepping forward to kiss him. “It’ll take some time to get used to it, but you’ll figure it out. I know you will. Besides, you forget that you’re essentially in charge.”

“I’ve never been in charge of anything before.” Another fear of Ron’s. Hermione had stepped perfectly into the role of Head of the Office of Personal Law, and Harry had been blessed with a natural ability for leadership. But Ron… he had never had any real experience. He’d always followed Harry’s lead — having his say where he felt necessary — but at the end of the day, Harry had always been the leader. This time, he would be in charge. People would turn to him for advice, support… anything. 

“Well, you are now!” Hermione answered cheerfully. “I know you’re nervous. I was, too, when I first started. But you’ll be fine.” She kissed him again and then picked up Rose. She handed her to Ron. “You’ve got this,” she said. “Just… just don’t let Rose get too invested in what’s there.”

Ron knew she wanted to say it as a joke, but he heard the sincerity in her tone. He smiled and nodded, knowing that it would probably just about kill Hermione if their daughter turned out to be more of a Weasley than a Granger. 

…

He’d contemplated Apparting to Hogsmeade, but thought better of it, knowing that he had Rose with him. Apparition was a tricky thing to learn, and whilst Ron now considered himself quite apt at it, he wasn’t game enough to attempt Side-Along Apparition just yet (or ever). He’d never forgive himself if Rose was to accidentally lose an arm or a leg or have something horrible happen to her. He still remembered his own Splinching, and how painful it had been. He could never inflict that on his daughter. 

So, he Floo’d. The shop that George had found in Hogsmeade had its own fireplace. It hadn’t been connected to anything upon purchasing it, and it had taken George a little bit of fussing with the Ministry to open it up again for him. Apparently the name Weasley — especially given that their own brother was the Head of Magical Transportation — had meant little in the way of the Ministry’s fear of what it would be used for again. 

What Ron hadn’t known was this shop had once belonged to a Death Eater which had sold all sorts of unruly and illegal items. Since the war, it was cleared out of all its Dark artifacts, and had sat abandoned ever since. George had been eyeing it off for some time but only recently had the money to go through with it. 

“Ah, you’re here!”

Ron was surprised to see George already there, though he was thankful. In truth, he realised that he hadn’t had plans on what to do if his brother had arrived after him. Despite them spending some of Ron’s time off after leaving the Aurors going through everything, Ron supposed he wouldn’t really get the idea of it until he’d been there for a bit.

He likened it to starting with the Aurors. He’d been a bit lost and new at the start of that, but eventually, he got comfortable enough to become bored by it. He supposed it would be similar here, though he hoped he wouldn’t get bored by this job. Something new and different seemed to happen every day at the joke shop, from what Ron had witnessed. 

“Yeah.” The fireplace led into the space they’d set up as the office. It was slightly larger than the space George had at Diagon Alley, but not by much. Already, it was crowded with bits and pieces of products or prototypes of new products. It was almost like George was using this new premise as a dumping ground for all the things he couldn’t fit at the other one. 

But there was a small, cleared space in the corner with a chair which Ron knew was for him. Another reminder that he was in charge here. 

“You don’t sound thrilled,” George said. “You’re not nervous, are you?”

Ron shrugged and George laughed.

“It’s just me, mate,” he said. “Your brother.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Ron confessed. 

George chuckled. “Well, hopefully within a week, you’ll be rid of me and you can run things as you wish. Two weeks, max, because that’s how long I have Verity for. She’s been really great, volunteering to stick around for a few more weeks, but she’s been abundantly clear that two weeks is her max. After that, she’s out of here.”

“Well, I’m sure I’ll be fine after two weeks,” Ron said, offering a smile. “You’ve already shown me the ropes, and I know where everything is on the shelves, I know all the products. It’s just the… the running of it that I’ll have to get used to.”

“That’ll be easy enough,” George said confidently. “You’ve met the staff we got, they’ve met you. I’ll help you with the rostering, too. That’s probably the hardest part, really. Oh, and paying them, of course.”

It had been agreed between them that once Ron got the hang of the store management part, he’d move onto other things, too, such as being responsible for paying the staff (both here and at the Diagon Alley premises) and a few other administration aspects of the business. There would come a time, George said, where the staff would be confident in managing the shopfront by themselves which would mean Ron could stay at home and do it. 

That had been the appealing factor in it and he’d agreed. 

He’d also play a hand in new product designs — as George seemed to think he had a knack for it — and everything else as time went on. It seemed busy, but Ron wanted busy. The reason he’d quit the Aurors was because it hadn’t been busy.

Today, though, he’d be merely learning what it was like to work with customers. 

“So, I have Oswald coming in today,” George said. “We agreed that he seemed the most competent so I thought it’d be easier to have him. He’ll be here in about fifteen.”

Ron glanced through the narrow doorway which led out to the shop front. Everything was set up and looking well. 

“You think the three of us can manage it… you know, with two of us not knowing what we’re doing?”

George nodded, though Ron saw the hesitation in his expression. “I think so. You’re not a complete idiot, Ron, despite what I used to tell you. We’ll be fine. Busy, but fine.”

Ron nodded.

George’s eyes finally fell on Rose, who had remained quiet the whole time as if realising it was important for her to do so. A small smile fell across his lips. “Besides, we have the biggest selling factor of all.”

“Don’t let Hermione hear you refer to her as that,” Ron warned, but he smiled. “You know, she’s worried that Rose spending too much time here will make her actually like it.”

“Inevitable,” George said. “She’s part Weasley, it’s in her blood to like what we sell here. Anyway, we have some stuff that’s suited just for her age.” He waved his wand and a moment later, a small, blue teddy bear landed in his arms. He tapped it with his wand and the bear changed to a deep blood, red. He tapped it again and now it was pink. This didn’t seem to interest Rose at all.

“Got anything that makes lots of noise?” Ron questioned.

George grimaced. “Didn’t we go through exactly what every product did last week?”

“Yes, but —”

George tapped the bear again and this time music began to play. Rose’s eyes landed on the toy as she watched it sing. He then put it on the ground, tapping it with his wand again and the bear danced around the room, much to Rose’s delight. 

“If anyone’s interested in this, make sure you tell them it can also be charmed to speak the kid’s name,” George said. “Perfect kid’s toy.” He nodded to Rose, who was still fixated on the dancing, singing bear. “Quite popular, too.”

“I can see that,” Ron laughed. 

“We’ll be fine,” George said. “Especially with Rosie here to woo all the customers.”

Ron smiled. “Again, don’t let Hermione hear you saying that. She’ll probably want to change our arrangements if she does.”

George nodded and winked. “Sure. Will be our little secret.”

For the next little bit, Ron walked through the shop, familiarising himself with where everything was. He wanted to be able to point people in the right direction if they asked for something. He just about had it all memorised when a young man of about twenty appeared via the fireplace out the back. 

He was dark-haired, olive-skinned and looked eager and excited to be standing in the small office. Ron remembered him from a few weeks back when George had introduced him to Ron. Oswald, his name was, and he had been looking for a job for some time. Ron had to admit he was a bit boisterous, but George insisted they needed enthusiasm in a place like this. 

He was one of five employees who’d be working here with Ron. Over time, Ron hoped he’d learn all their names. 

“Right on time,” George said, looking at his watch and then smiling at Oswald. “Impressive.”

“Can’t be late for my first day, Mr Weasley,” Oswald answered, sounding almost breathless. His eyes flicked to Ron, who had returned from his investigation of the shop, Rose still in his arms. “Oh, hello Mr Weasley. And Little Weasley.”

Ron hid a laugh at that. He wouldn’t say it, but he found the idea of Rose being referred to as ‘Little Weasley’ endearing. 

“Oswald,” Ron answered with a nod.

“I’m ready to go,” Oswald then said. “Tell me what I need to do, where I need to be, and I’ll do it and I’ll be there.”

“Your first step will be to slow down,” George said, grinning. “I do like how enthusiastic you are, though. But save some of it for when we have the streams of customers pouring in, in a little bit.”

Oswald didn’t seem all that perturbed by George’s statement, for he ploughed on. “Are the Hogwarts students coming here? It’s been a few years since I was there, but I know a few of the now seventh years. Will be good to see them again.”

“I sent an owl last week to McGonagall,” George said patiently. “Explained about our opening and whatnot. She has made special arrangements for an extra Hogsmeade trip — called in a favour, you know?”

Ron raised an eyebrow at that. “You and McGonagall are on good terms, are you?”

George answered with a shrug. 

“Oh, great!” Oswald explained. “Well, I guess I should set up. I’ll be out the front, right?”

“Yes,” George said. “However… you answer to Ron, not to me. Within a week, you’ll hardly see me. He’s your boss.”

Oswald nodded and looked directly at Ron, awaiting instructions. Ron flushed slightly, remembering all the times he’d walked into Hermione’s office at the Ministry and witnessed her giving orders to Malfoy and Maia with an air of confidence and authority. He would have done anything for that confidence now rather than the fluster that he felt instead. 

“Er, yeah… maybe you can walk around the store, you know? Offering help to find things.”

Oswald nodded again and left for the front. 

George laughed, causing Ron to spin around to face him. “What’s so funny?”

“You’ll have to learn how to be more commanding than that,” George said. “Otherwise they’ll walk all over you. Use the same authority you used when you used to kick those first years out of the chairs in the Gryffindor common room.”

“What?”

George waved him away. “You know what I mean. Also, we have five minutes until opening. What’s Rosie going to do?”

Ron stood there for a moment before answering. “I brought something to carry her in. Let me get it on.”

…

If there was one thing George had been right about, it was that Rose would be a huge selling factor. People apparently loved seeing a baby in the shop — especially one that smiled so much. And apparently, they adored men with babies, too, for Ron received many compliments throughout the day about how good it was to see a baby out with her dad. 

The day went well. George had also been right about Ron being fine. He was fine. In fact, he was more than fine. As the customers trickled in, in the morning, he got a good feel for what it was like to talk to strangers. Strangers were something he usually avoided, because most of the time they only approached him because they knew he was Harry’s brother-in-law, Ginny’s brother, or both. But it actually felt nice talking to someone outside of his family. He rarely did that, he realised. 

These people came in because they were interested in what he had to sell, not who he knew. They asked him questions, gave him compliments, and Ron was pleased to learn that it all felt natural to him. He wasn’t lost, he knew his way around the shop, and by the time the Hogwarts students piled in, excited and joyous for an extra few hours after classes, he felt extremely comfortable. 

Business went well, too. Ron remembered all those times he’d come to Diagon Alley and seen the place packed. This shop was slightly smaller than the other, and it, too, filled up with eager customers. They made a fortune at a guess, which left George grinning from ear to ear. 

Rose had stayed strapped to his chest for most of the day, save for when he had to feed her or change her. And things went smoothly enough that he was able to slip away for a few moments to do either. It probably wasn’t good for her to be in the carrier for as many hours, but he knew that most days wouldn’t be as busy. Eventually, the excitement would wear off and Rose would also become more active. But he made a mental note to himself that he’d have to figure out a way to keep Rose active and playing, but also be able to watch her simultaneously. And he’d find a way, because he was determined for this system to work. 

By the time five o’clock came, the last customers were leaving and George was bolting the door shut, manually and with charms. Oswald, who’d worked hard and tirelessly the whole time, collapsed into a chair by the counter, groaning. 

“My feet,” he complained. 

“You did well,” Ron said, realising it was appropriate to compliment the young man. It was the truth, anyway. 

“What a wonderful first day!” George said cheerfully. “I couldn’t even tell you the Galleons we brought in today. And look!” He indicated the almost bare shelves. 

Ron was about to ask if they had enough to restock before he realised he should know that. Then it occurred to him that he did know. There were stacks and stacks of products crammed out the back, shrunk to fit. 

“How do you feel, Ron?” George said. “Good?”

“Great!” Ron answered truthfully. “Honestly… it feels… right.” It felt more than right being here — like he’d been built to run a joke shop all along. Despite his nerves early on, once put into the situation, it had all come naturally — easily. 

“Well, get used to it,” George continued, “because I imagine the next week or so will be just as busy. Minus the Hogwarts kids, of course. Doubt I could convince McGonagall to let them out every day.”

“That was weird, don’t you think?” Ron said. “Seeing the kids, but not being one of them. Not being a kid anymore.” 

George waved him away. “You get used to it. Besides,” he nodded at Rose, “eleven years and you’ll be at the station again, waving her off.”

Ron looked down at his daughter strapped to him still. She’d fallen asleep not so long ago after he’d fed her a bottle. “You don’t think we can find somewhere for her to move around more, do you? She likes to move, and I just don’t think it’s good for her to stay strapped to me all day.”

George thought for a moment. Ron knew he wasn’t about to banish Rose from the shop after the hit she’d been with the customers. 

“I could put together a play pen or something. Give her some of the toys —”

“Even I draw the line at having my daughter on display, mate,” Ron said. “But a playpen could work. Just maybe… somewhere not in the eye of the public.”

George looked disgruntled, but nodded. “Yeah, we can figure it out. We will figure it out. Besides, in a bit you can do things from home anyway.”

“Thanks,” Ron said. 

“Alright,” George said, “I’ve got to head off to Diagon Alley and assist with the restocking there. You two alright to do it here?”

“Sure,” Ron said. “Part of the job, isn’t it?”

Oswald was slow to get to his feet, but he nodded. “On it.”

George nodded to both of them and was gone a moment later, leaving Oswald and Ron.

They spent the next half an hour restocking the shelves until they were bursting again, and Ron sent Oswald home. It was nearing six now, and Hermione would be wondering where he was — and probably fretting about Rose. He was surprised she hadn’t come here just to check it out. 

Before he headed to the fireplace to go home, Ron took one last look at the shop. He had a good feeling about this new job. It felt right, like he could manage it. It had been chaotic today, but he knew that once he got the hang of it, it would be easy. 

But he knew with one hundred percent certainty now that he had made the right choice.

He was no longer Ron Weasley, Auror. 

He was Ron Weasley, joke shop owner.

[beany-bopper-extraordinaire]

Blessed be the unbelieving spouses of church leadership.

My friend in college just finished seminary. She met her boyfriend on Tinder, and he said he would probably never believe. When she asked if it bothered him that she was planning to devote her whole life to this religion he did not want to follow, he told her, “I’ll be in the front pew for you every Sunday.” She had his last name before she got assigned her first church.

On the verge of retiring from Oxford as a professor of evolution and ornithology, one of my favorite people in the whole wide world found himself transitioning into ministry as a priest. His wife did not understand how he had found religion, why it mattered so much. But she’d stood by his side for this long, she wasn’t leaving now.

One of the admins at my church also manages all the sound boards and the online streaming. She set up a lot of it herself, since this church, like many, has struggled to adapt to technology. Voice of an angel, she brightly performs solos and leads the congregation’s lyrics to her husband’s organ-playing. He will be finished with seminary in another few years, and she will no doubt continue to support his ministry when he gets his own church someday. She says that, after what she went through with Catholicism growing up, she will never believe in a God for the rest of her life.

What does salvation look like? Baptists and nondenoms will often say that it looks like a prayer, like exuberant song, like a moment when you Felt God. When I look at these steadfast souls, I think of the mother of St. Augustine- the son of so many tears cannot be lost. I ponder what it means when I Corinthians 13 talks about the shape of love, and I find it in people who are “not supposed to have it,” sometimes more powerfully than those who *are* supposed to have it. For those who claim they are Christian but come to church once or twice a year, where do their souls compare to the conscientious objector who still works hard for the army, day in and out? Who silently make a soft resting place for their spouses, captains and majors and generals on the front lines?

I once got to see a play called Mr. Darwin’s Tree. A slightly apocryphal biography of the iconic Charles Darwin’s life, it described how he came to lose his faith after the death of one of his daughters at a young age. His wife, steadfast with him until the end, once wrote him a letter. She promised not to nag, but wanted to pose if he could really be so sure that there was no God in heaven. Supposedly, he carried that letter on his person from the time he received it until the day he died.

When he did die, his longtime friend refused his wishes to be buried near his family at his home and hauled his body off to Westminster Abbey. His wife did not attend his funeral, instead staying home in an attempt to honor those wishes. The play ends there, with her reading her own letter, now hers again after being carried with him for so many years.

Blessed are they who, though unbelieving, walk beside those who do in faithful love. To whatever extent any of us are right about an afterlife, I pray that it is kind to you, for you surely deserve it.

[thoughtfulfoxllama]

Women & the Priesthood

I'm kinda wondering when my takes will get the Correlation Office after me. I mean, I'm in the Sunday School Presidency in my Ward (even though I keep it correlated whenever I teach. It's a Milk-Meat Situation)

So, what do I think of Women and the Priesthood? It's complicated, and to explain it, I need to explain the Temple Ordinances. In "The Power of Godliness: Mormon Liturgy & Cosmology" by Jonathan Stapley, he mentions the concept of Cosmological & Ecclesiastical Priesthood. Ecclesiastical is the Priesthood required to run the Church, and Cosmological is the Priesthood used by God to do what he does. The Endowment covers the story of Creation, and as such, is a use of Cosmological Priesthood. This is why Sisters are allowed to perform certain Ordinances for other women in the Temple. This is also connected to the "Patriarchal Priesthood," in that the Mother can act as a Priestess for her family (although, the Patriarchal Priesthood is something I don't fully understand, so idk what that would entail. Would a mother be able to give "Mother's Blessings" for example)

So, women have access to Priesthood through the Temple Endowment. But, what about outside the Temple and Family? This is a whole thing in the various restoration branches, and religion as a whole. The Community of Christ has allowed Women to be ordained since the 80s, and a woman is going to be the next President. Strangites allowed women in certain offices (all offices of Deacon & Teacher, and the Singer office of Priest). I learned in doing my Polygamy Essay that Fred Collier believed that the Melchizedek Priesthood is the Men's Priesthood, and the Aaronic is the Women's, which is reminiscent of the Strangite perspective, despite being Brighamite (his Church also worship Eve as Heavenly Mother, because they believe in the Garden Cosmology). Outside of Abrahamic Faiths, many religions have Female Priests. Even in Abrahamic Faiths, there is evidence that Women were priests in early Judaism & Christianity (although, it is more circumstantial in the case of Christianity. A woman was called a "Deacon" in Acts, but that just means Servant. Mary M is called "the Apostle of Apostles," but this could be due to her high status as the Savior's wife follower. Overall, not convinced, but Female Priests in First Temple Judaism is indisputable)

Within the Family, Women and Men have the same Authority (as part of the Patriarchal Priesthood), but as I've said, I'm unfamiliar with what the Patriarchal Priesthood actually authorizes. Outside however, if women are going to have the Priesthood, it would be a unique Priestesshood, and it would be unable to be given to women by men.

In my opinion, the Nauvoo Relief Society was supposed to be the Women's Priesthood, but a number of issues (mainly the Succession Crisis) messed that up, so Women never got their ecclesiastical authority (as many had gone through the Temple), or had the opportunity to learn what to do if they did receive it. This is most likely why women would perform healing blessings (they didn't know what they could do, so they copied the Elders. Joseph did say this was acceptable in the first RS Meeting, but in the name of Christ, and not by the Priesthood). In some coming day, the Lord will most likely restore that Authority to the Church, and teach us what they can do with it

But that's just my opinion. This is probably my hottest take, but it's the most uncertain I've been so far (yes, I'm more convinced we can have beer more than this). These are just my thoughts, but my thoughts are evolving. I'll probably have a different perspective this time next year. So, like my others, let's discuss this. What do you think I got right, what wrong? What sources do you have that support me, that are against me? Let's make this post look like my High School Debate Class

[ourmagicplace]

A Ripple- a fleeting mark that interrupts the surface, but impossible not to make when going through

I thought I'd take you through a journey of my mind, since you say you can feel like there's something going on with me, but you dont feel like you have the right to ask it. I know the feeling all too well-- the limitations. Its a double edged sword, cutting both ways that for some reason has taken up a big part of 'us'. I think I managed to explain myself last year when you mentioned you might see me in florida. I know how much I've changed since you met me. In many ways I feel like I'm still the same person but I suppose the dreamer and realist in me have constant fights that often let the other down. It often lets the inner core of me down in the long run. But I'm gonna do my best to share a few scattered thoughts with you. But maybe at the end things might balance out? I really have no clue how long I'll make this.

Did I ever tell you that you're the first person that ever broke up with me? While I've had rejections before it was more so before anything ever happened than something already going on and ending. Those parts? I seemed to have been the one at all points to be ending things. But with you? However impossible of a situation we were in, oddly I held on so hard. Almost unhealthily and I can admit that now. But hopefully I'll explain later on so you understand what I mean by unhealthy. I think we met at a time we both needed each other so much, and a point in our lives where this beautiful and lovely innocence took place. We created, like this blog is adequately named, a magic place. Somewhere we both could escape to, and it would be our cloud that no one could ruin. It was just us. Us against the world. We could talk for hours and feel everything together. There wasn't a filter but an abundance of love and support. I even think we became each other's muse in a certain way because we just brought out things in each other i'm not sure either of us have ever been able to replicate with anyone else since then.

When I lost you, it was one of the hardest things I had to go through. Which is ironic bc I had you emotionally in all the most beautiful ways that I hope people can find at least once in their lifetimes. There were so many things we didn't do, that are done so quickly in relationships now that you don't even bat an eye. But hear me out--I think because we didn't get to do those things, this has become something much bigger than any of us could ever think it could ever be. We've spent more than a decade in each other's lives. How many people can you truly say you've had that with? I can't say many for me, and I often think of you in different moments and sometimes I think, if this is all I get in this lifetime. This almost. Then it's okay. I'll take it. Because I don't know that it's in me to become someone's wife, someone's mother, or someone's forever.

I don't even know when that clicked for me, but somewhere in my journey, I looked around me, and I thought, how can I commit to something less than what I know I want? What I know I could get? It's a blessing and a curse, I suppose. To measure things against the other and think, just enough doesn't feel like enough. I'm not saying I measure everything against what we had, but also what I refuse to have, like certain aspects of my family members or what I see in some people I know. I've always hated the pressure and expectations. If I didn't worry so much about my parents, I'd like to think I would thrive elsewhere. There are moments like I had recently where I realized. I'm very charismatic. I can blend so well when I want to, and I know not everyone can do that. When I see that, and I do it without realizing in a moment I didn't expect? That's where I stop and think, how can I give these things up for anything less than remarkable? And so, I think that's where I start to become...I was gonna write tainted but I'm not sure that's the right word for it. Because it implies I'm dooming myself some way and while I do think that's true in a sense, I also am not afraid of being alone. Isn't that funny?

I like to think of it as a superpower sometimes. The fact that I tend to wear that badge of honor. I don't need anyone...anything I need I can make happen myself. I feel like I can rely on myself the most than anyone else. And sometimes? I think that can create problems. Somewhere along the line I became so okay with just me, that I feel like the vulnerability I used to have and I still do, but I don't wear it on my sleeve as often, is what makes me become into some kind of shook-up coke bottle. All these bubbles are being created inside waiting to burst open the cap. Only before that happens, I'll twist it just a little so enough seeps out to give its release without letting it pour-over. But then, it happens again.

I know I've mentioned to you in the past I feel like I need to see a therapist and trust me, it's in my plans but I'm stubborn on trying to deal with it on my own. I honestly think that if Daniel didn't buy a home near my parents, we would have broken up already. And don't worry I'm not gonna dive into that part that much, but its part of a thought process of a bigger thing that I wanted to share. I know myself a lot, and I can't settle for something that makes me think of a future similar to one I've had with my father in the past. It's part of the reason he knows I'll never say yes to an engagement so he's never asked me. I stopped it way before he even tried to attempt it. I sometimes ask myself if I wasn't so self-aware, if perhaps I would be happier? Maybe things would have been easier had I gone with the flow and not put so many limitations and expectations, but then again, I wouldn't really be me would I have been?

Recently i had a moment with a stranger--an entertainer in an event i attended for halloween where i was trying to hype the group to his attention bc a lot of people were chattering and not paying attention to his bit. we had a lovely back and forth that felt so natural and fun that for a brief moment i completely forgot i was there with daniel. and in the back of my head a voice told me, when was the last time you had this easeness with him? and it was a hard voice to get rid of. and this wonderful stranger who i know nothing about, he's here providing me with a little window like, wouldn't it be lovely to have something like this again, but real?

laughter airiness and sweetness. i run back my greatest hits and even briefly scrolling through this page i avoid so much-- yet at the same time dont because it also brings me comfort, I realize. the peak of those feelings? they were always with you. because like I said to you earlier today, we were easy. no limitations no expectations. we were just us. and being just us it worked so well that it was scary. getting to know each other was such a beautiful thing that i keep circling back and i dont think you realize how much i do. but i do, and i keep saying if this is what i get, i'll take it. theres one person in this world that's always been a constant. that knows more about me than anyone else. that cares for me in a way that i dont think anyone else could come close to. if this is it and thats all i can get then i'm okay with having experienced that.

so for me, as the realist. i'll have it as a half measure because i know both of our families need us. that we've forged different futures that don't seem to overlap, and that's okay. we can only do so much until the world says these are the terms and we gotta change the script again. so why do i mention this recent scenario? well, it's reappeared that magnifying glass that i keep hovering over. the one that tells me i dont want what i have. that i want more, and so i've expressed this to him. my relationship feels like a ticking timebomb and my brain? it cant fathom a future so i'm sure that will become a fact eventually. i just dont have the heart to do it without giving it more of a shot since he did such a big gesture of moving closer to me. so as much as a broken record that i sound like, witnessing that interaction, knowing first hand with you that it can be real with the right person? i want better and if i cant have it, i'm okay. there can be worse things. like never having met you.

so i'm gonna try to go full circle with this and elaborate the unhealthy. i know you dont remember a lot of things due to your accident. (& i dont think i ever had a disease) but i know i was very low sometimes and especially during the period of not being with you, i started to lose weight and with the added stress of the dude that wont be named, he sucked out a lot of energy. I was super skinny and pale and threw up constantly because I was so anxiety ridden. my aunt made me go to a doctor and he checked me and i was fine. so i realized it was all in my head. i was letting so much of what i was feeling numb take over that i didnt feel like doing anything else really. i blame so much of that for allowing that leech to take my empathy. i let myself start to fade. But then a renaissance happened to me where i just completely rebelled to be a freer me and I did do better. I was better and I grew confidence in myself. I saved myself.

Now, i'm not going to take away all that you've helped me. I really don't want you to feel like I don't value it because I do. I feel like you've been my rock, but also given me outlets that have made feeling all these feelings more bearable. I surround myself with them constantly, trying to fill whatever voids I still have in myself. I love that you check in with me, that you can tell if i'm off and that you share small things with me and I can just message you whenver and we can pick up in pocket moments like no time has passed.

But because of all my emotional scars, i've evolved. i just...sometimes keep it all in, and can't bring myself to have it out in the open like you seem so willing to. it feel like it's not my place to do that. that i'm endulging in something that doesnt really belong with me so its a mini battle sometimes, but like i mentioned. this is a ripple moment. so, let's let it do a bit of a circles before it settles down to normal water again.

bonus lyric that reminds me of the beginning: Is this the end of the moment or just a beautiful unfolding Of a love that will never be or maybe be Everything that I never thought could happen or ever come to pass and I wonder If maybe, maybe I could be all you ever dreamed

[shesjustanothergeek]

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Five

Master List of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: I appreciate your support as this story progresses. Make sure to check every two weeks for an update! Honestly, if it weren't for you, I wouldn't have continued this story because it's just so messed up, but even so, thank you once again.

Chapter Warnings: Larys Strong jump scare

"Let me out of here!" You screamed, pounding on the guest chamber doors. "What is wrong with you, people? You have no reason to keep me here!"

Ma must have been worried to death by now, scowering across Kings Landing and pulling any strings she could. How had you been so stupid? So immature to follow a strange man that could put you in chains if he so wished. Ma was right. She had always been right about everything, and you were too caught up in your selfish desires to see it.

Aegon was a sick and twisted man. A vile, wretched, disgusting creature to ever be blessed by The Mother. You slammed your fists into the solid wooden doors as you felt pain radiate up your arms, willing them to burst open. You refused to sit ideally and become Aegon's plaything. You slept in a room next to the women who were, seeing what men like him do.

You were unashamed by the tears that streaked your cheeks, the snot that ran down your lip, and the back of your throat. Anyone being kept as a High-Born prisoner would feel the same way.

You couldn't wrap your mind around it-- around everything that had happened in the past days. Your absent father coming to pay you a visit, the heated argument with Ma, Aegon whisking you away for a night of fun and debauchery.

Nothing made sense. You were the daughter of a dead whore and a loafer, raised by a brothel madam on the streets of Flea Bottom. The Targaryen madness people gossiped about must be true; Aegon was proof of it.

The fight refused to die out, kicking at the doors as your sore arms shook. Your leathered foot nearly collided with a man as the doors opened, his cane stopping you. You were stunned, not expecting to have your freedom given to you so soon, but that hope did not last long as they locked behind your guest.

"Who are you," you questioned the limp man heatedly, ready to throw hands at any moment.

"Forgive me, my lady," he bowed, his body leaning onto his intricate stick. "I am Lord Larys of House Strong," he answered politely as if he were speaking to royalty.

"You say that as if it means something to me," you quipped. Lord Strong walked further into your prison chambers, tired from standing so long and resting on a plush armchair. He smiled as he sat, inviting you to the one opposite him, but your feet stood planted, arms crossed.

"I do not expect it to, my lady. Being the younger, unimportant brother of House Strong is not a trait many people consider to be remarkable." He spoke in riddles as if he knew something you didn't and was proud of it, disdain hidden within his messages.

"You are Ser Harwin 'Breakbones' brother," you said more for yourself than anything.

"Yes, my late brother," he answered, bowing his head in respect. He showed all the proper body language of someone in mourning, but you could not hear a whisper of sadness. You tilted your head, stepping closer to him but leaving enough room away from his cane if need be.

"Ah yes," you smiled mirthfully, squinting your eyes as you studied him. "Your sudden inheritance of Harrenhal must have come as quite a shock. Your poor family finally meeting the Stranger. But how fortunate for you, I suppose."

If it were any other circumstance, speaking to a Lord as this would end with a flogging, perhaps a missing tongue, to ensure you never made the same mistake again. But this was nothing of the ordinary.

He chuckled sarcastically, shifting his cane as he shook his head. Lord Larys was not a man to be trusted. He embodied everything your fellow common folk poked fun at during the drinking hour. He had a pompous attitude, like he knew more than everyone around him, with elegant dark clothing and short, well-trimmed hair. The only difference was that he did not seem one for gossip and parties. You assumed it was because of his deformity, nobles not wanting to be around such a "cripple."

Lord Larys didn't need a sword or army to conquer his enemies. He only need a few moments within the conversation background, a few slips of secrets into one's ear to cause chaos. That was what made him dangerous.

"I enjoy your sense of humor," he laughed, looking underneath his lashes at you, "it reminds me greatly of someone I know. Perhaps you will meet him soon." He laughed again, a joke you were not in on.

"Speak plainly, Lord Strong; I tire of your games."

Oh, you so greatly reminded him of that certain someone.

He hummed, slouching back into the chair and lifting his lousy leg to cross over the other. "I know your stay here in the Red Keep is not voluntary," he began, and you rolled your eyes. "I wanted to be the first to speak with you. Become a sort of confidant, my lady."

"I have no need to align myself with you. You have nothing of value," you quipped, pacing to sit in the chair across from him. The man was intelligent. He could read body language like a traditional Westerosi book, writing notes in the margin of his mind for later,

"Then, let me be the first to water our newly planted friendship," Lord Larys grinned, looking away for a moment as he thought of his next word carefully. "You wish to know why you are being kept here, yes?" You refused to answer, only scowling at his smug figure.

"They believe you are the bastard child of Prince Daemon Targaryen," said plainly. You threw your head back in a laugh as your hands went to your beating chest.

"You wish to start our friendship with a lie? Men are truly unbelievable." You shook your head as your mind returned to the King's eldest son. "Did Aegon put you up to this?" You asked suddenly, not finding the humor in this anymore.

"Of course not, my lady. Do you genuinely believe I would lie to you? I, a man at a significant disadvantage, am begging for the allyship of a Princess. As a young girl being thrown into a den of vipers, surely you would want a knife to cut off the heads?"

"Not when the very hand who gave it to me was one of them. The hilt laced with poison." Lord Larys stood, using his cane for support as he slowly made his way over to you, his lips in a tight purse.

"I do hope you consider my offer. It would be advantageous for us both to become allies, not enemies."

His words hung in the thick air, an ominous feeling sinking into your stomach as he left the room, the door latching behind him. He only left you more confused, your heart nearly beating out of your chest as you tried the door one more time.

You were the daughter of Daemon Targaryen, his firstborn, his bastard with black hair and brown eyes, the child of a dead whore, a member of House Targaryen.

You were a dragon born of fire and blood.

You should have been running around the marketplace this time of day, stealing until your pockets bulged with fruits as the City Watchmen struggled to keep up with you, but instead, you sat in the great armchair inside a gilded cage, staring out of the pane-glass windows.

You never imagined yourself as someone who would miss the foul stench of small folk in high summer, but here you sat, your chin resting on your hand as your nose was filled with the sick smells of amber and ash. To those who were not trapped in the palace, they would welcome the scents, but you, it only made your head hurt.

You needed to return home and find some way to escape these impenetrable stone walls, chisel teeth, and nails if necessary, but what would happen once you returned home? You were still in Kings Landing, where they could easily find you. Perhaps Essos or the North, where you could find your mother's family? They still had jurisdiction over the areas, but if you were far enough away...

The doors burst open without warning, a guard in armor you had not seen before marching into your elegant cell. He bowed his head, raising an arm across his breastplate as he announced your small gaggle of handmaids' arrival, leaving without another word.

You stared at them blankly, partially because you were still upset about being confined to this room and partly because you had no idea what to say. They saw you as royalty and not some common girl, treating you with respect someone of your raised status was not accustomed to.

"My name is Sara, your grace," she curtsied. Her voice matched her appearance. Seemingly around your age, with fair skin and pale blue eyes that starkly contrasted against her brown hair, a slight tremble in her hands. Their arms were full of extravagant dresses.

You still sat, blinking at them with no expression as Sara shifted the heavy gowns from one limb to the other. You were still determining what she wanted as the lack of conversation became awkward.

"May I sit your dresses on the bed, my lady," she asked quietly. You felt pity. What had this girl experienced to become so... small?

"Will they fit?" You decided to say, finally leaving your seat.

"I pray so," Sara said, seeming to be the pack's leader. A red-haired girl smiled slightly and looked at the thick pile they had carried through the many floors of the Red Keep.

High fashion was gaudy. You ran your fingertips over the fabrics, feeling an array of cotton, wool, and silk of every color imaginable. You sorted through the piles out of curiosity and not because you wanted to see the fruits of the Targaryen's coin. It must have been Aegon's doing, getting you so many dresses.

Indeed they would not look through the wardrobes of the royal family for just a bastard. You could feel Sara's eyes on your back, taking note of the white streak in your hair as you grimaced at a hideous red dress.

One dress, thank the Seven, was not entirely terrible. You made no move to indicate you liked the creamy bronzed gown, its enchanting tan designs glimmering in the candlelight, its sleeves cut halfway down the arm, and wrists flowing with an accent of fabric.

It was alright, you thought, moving the other heavy materials away.

"Beautiful choice, your grace," a girl who had yet to speak complimented, grabbing it and quickly taking you behind a decorated partition as the others hurried out of the room. She grabbed the laces of your dress, untieing them without a second thought. You gasped, raising onto the tips of your toes as you attempted to gather purchase.

"My Gods what in the Hell do you eat? You are stronger than half the Kings army!" You nearly fell backward as she yanked the threads out of their holes.

"My apologies, your grace. I did not mean to hurt you," she said in a rushed tone, dragging your dirty clothes to the floor. "We have a bath drawn for you, and I do not want the water to get chill."

You heard the several other maids return, their footfalls sounding shuffled as a loud 'thump' vibrated the floor. You peeked around the partition as the redhead attempted to comb through your knotted hair, the brass teeth catching on one.

Once nearly half of your dark hair was pulled from your scalp and you naked as a babe, she ushered you to a round wooden tub, vapors rising above the water. With your mouth agape, she removed your dirty smock, and two other women helped you in. You could have laid there for hours, inhaling the relaxing smell of Clarey Sage and Lavender as they scrubbed the sweat and oil from your skin.

Unbeknownst to you, another person also enjoyed your bath, observing how the woman rinsed your hair. Aegon wished it was him kneeling beside the tub, watching the water drip down your neck and into the pool, rubbing oils over your delicate breasts. He watched from the crack in a secret passageway as they helped you, wrapping a thick cotton towel around your damp body. He sipped at a goblet he brought with him, the cool Arbor Red sliding down his throat. Not even his favorite drink could quench his thirst as he watched you ready.

Your handmaid ushered you to a vanity, rich mahogany with intricate designs carved into the wood. One brushed your damp hair, as the others laid out some cosmetics. A fine white powder dusted onto your face with a puff to get rid of any shine, crushed rose petals mixed with animal fat to create a balm, and a subtle rouge on your cheeks.

You had not realized how much effort went into becoming presentable with nobility. The most you had ever done was do a washing once a week with the other ladies of the house. Your face felt heavy as if they had rubbed soot onto your skin, but what you saw in the mirror looked as if nothing had changed. Though you had a light flesh-toned powder, redder cheeks, and stained lips, you still looked like you. Your natural features enhanced, and you felt like a... royal. Like you truly were born of Targaryen descent.

"Why am I dressing like this, Sara?" You asked, eyes downcast as a blonde servant braided your hair, staring at your white streak of hair.

"You will meet Prince Daemon soon, and he will escort you to dinner." You turned to face Sara as she compared different pieces of jewelry. The blonde yanked your head back in place as she continued.

You hadn't realized how hungry you were until Sara mentioned the prospect of food, your stomach suddenly feeling its emptiness. But once you processed you were going to see your father, the man Madam had kept you from all your life, nausea replaced it. You were glad you had not eaten today.

"It is nothing to worry about, my lady," the blonde said. You looked at her through the mirror, unconvinced. "My name is Caldia. I have served the Targaryens for many years now, and if I have learned one thing, it's that if Her Highness Princess Rhaenyra tells the Prince to do something, he will listen."

You weren't sure what that meant but didn't question her, nervously biting your red lip as she pinned the braids to your head.

Aegon wanted a better view of you, but he could only if he made himself known. His imagination was crazy with thoughts of what you looked like. What dress did you choose? Was it the color green? What hairstyle did you wear? Was your jewelry the pointed star of the Seven?

It was odd for him to be wondering such things. He never much cared for religion, let alone women's fashion; he was more focused on what lay underneath. He took another sip from his cup, a few dribbles spilling down his chin.

Caldia put her hands on your shoulders and gave you an encouraging smile as Sare put a silver bracelet on your wrist. "I am frightened," you confessed as you stood, wrapping your arms around your torso.

The four women, now yours to command, exchanged nervous glances. They knew about as much as you and could offer no words of comfort. Not one to let people suffer, Sara grabbed your hand and leaned close to your ear.

"Madam has eyes everywhere. Just give her time," she whispered. You wanted to gasp but held it back, not wanting to make any other girls suspicious.

Eyes were everywhere in the Red Keep.

Two Kingsguard stood stiff at their post outside Prince Daemon's chambers, watching you with expectant eyes, breathing deeply. The bodice of your borrowed dress constricted your chest, frying your nerves. You pulled a piece of loose skin with your teeth, feeling the soft trickle of blood into your mouth as you gave the men a curt nod.

The doors opened with a loud clang of metal and a groan of wood, revealing what seemed to be a dark empty room lit only by a fire out of view. They did not announce your arrival. There was no need. The Rogue Prince was expecting you as his chamber doors shut.

You walked further in, your leather shoes tapping on the hard floor, as you saw a lithe man standing at the hearth. It was Prince Daemon; there was no one else it could be as you heard him sigh and lean against the fireplace. You were moments away from meeting your father, to a man you only knew by name. Neither of you spoke, you observing the stranger and him watching the flames.

"They say I am your daughter," you spoke with a small amount of courage. "That you are my father. But how can they claim a man who I have never met be called my father?" Though they were calm, there was a hint of malice behind your words.

You heard him snicker as he turned to you, a smirk on his face, still leaning on the hearth.

"Come," he said, inviting you to watch the dancing orange flames contained by metal. "Who is your mother?"

"My mother is dead." Daemon pursed his lips, shifting. "But her name was Elaina Black." The hole that she left still bleeds, even years later.

"How did she die," he asked, eyes never leaving their spot.

"In childbirth. A few weeks after I was born."

You couldn't read his emotions, his face blank but contemplative. A man this quiet did not fit the title of Rogue Prince.

"Come," Daemon said again, leaving his spot and going to a small table with a metal box. He flipped the latch, revealing a deep blue velvet lining, a necklace, and a matching pair of earrings. The onyx-colored jewels reflected like a lake, a midnight pool encased in steel.

You were speechless. This was the first time you had received a gift such as this. Your mouth hung open as word failed. Daemon motioned you to turn so he could clasp the necklace, the black crystals contrasting your soft, creamy dress.

"What is it," you questioned, gently stroking the fine accessories, still trying to remember your manners.

You could form no thoughts, no words other than what was expected of you. "It is zīrtys perzys, Dragon Glass, gathered from the mines of your home, Dragonstone. And Valyrian steel, some lasts of its kind."

Your home

"Thank you, Prince Daemon. This gift..." you struggled to form a sentence. "Is the greatest gift I have ever received." You spun, doing an awkward mix of a bow and curtsy. The jewelry was extravagant like all royal fashion was, yet tasteful, even if it didn't match your attire.

"No need for that. You are a Targaryen; we bow to no man except the King," he proclaimed, briskly walking to the exit.

You stood there confused. That was it? No questions or apologies for abandoning you?

"That is it, then," you exclaimed before you could catch it. "No apologies for the years of believing my father did not love me enough to visit? To raise me as any good man should?" Prince Daemon turned around, standing in a defensive but relaxed stance as you stormed over to him. "No condolences for the loss of a mother? For the loss of a family?"

"You have been brought to me now. That is all that matters."

Your face scrunched up in confusion, gesturing your hands in a stop motion and shaking your head. High-Borns were really that emotionally stunted.

"That is not all that matters, Prince Daemon. Do you have no concerns about how your child was raised? If I am even your child," you added, done with the treatment you have received from these Targaryen men. If this was how they all acted, you wanted no part.

"I am your father, and you are my bastard. This discussion is finished," he declared, finally letting some anger slip through his facade.

"Why," you yelled, going closer to him, "how do you know? How do you know?"

"Because I have always known! I have always known that there were bastards of mine running around Flea Bottom!" He charged towards you, grabbing you by your biceps with the strength of ten men, shaking you as a vein popped from his forehead. "You are the only one who has lived long enough to claim the title publicly!"

You settled, fear replacing anger at the implication.

"You... You murdered your own children?" Daemon said nothing, his face red as he stared. 

It all made sense now. Why Ma did what she did, why she hid you from everyone, why your entire life was spent smothered into her bosom, it wasn't simply her being overprotective. She was saving you from death, from the man who gave you an extravagant present, from the man who went from being aloof to screaming, from the man who stood right in front of you.

Your father could not be as vile as him. You wanted the hands of this filicidal maniac gone.

You grimaced, mustering all the saliva you could and spitting it on the Rogue Prince's cheek. Why would he hesitate with you if he already called so many of his kin?

He let go, and you scrambled out of the way, not wanting to face his wrath.

Instead of being met with the sharp blade of Dark Sister, you heard a laugh. A genuine and honest laugh.

Daemon had a pleased look on his pale face, the same look Lord Strong gave you hours earlier but smug. He knew what to say to boil your dragon blood because you were the same as all of the true Targaryens.

"You're a mad man!" You shouted, looking frightened.

"You are my child," he declared, sauntering over to clap a hand on your shoulder. "Enough with this fun. Let us eat. I have gown rather hungry." 

You had a sense of Deja Vu before the wide entrance of the dining hall, only this time, you were not alone. Next to you was your supposed father. You chewed on your lip nervously, pulling the thin scab that covered your marks from earlier. 

So many things were left unanswered you had no idea where to begin.

Your mother was a prostitute; how could he be sure? How did he not know she was pregnant? That is not an easy thing to hide. How many brothers and sisters did you potentially have, was Daemon the monster Ma believed him to be, and who was watching you now, ready to report back to her?

"This is unnerving," you decided to say, not brave enough to voice your questions yet. He snorted, his eyebrows raising for a moment before he shifted his weight and took your arm in his.

"It is unnecessary, but is that not all customs to those unaware?" You mimicked his expressions but turned your gaze down, retaking your lip between your teeth. "Stop that," he chided as a father would, and you obeyed. You couldn't help it; the feeling came as an instinct. 

Two guards opened the doors, and another from inside the dining room announced your presence to the family that sat upon the great table. As you walked arm-in-arm with Daemon, you became even more ridged than the crown's sworn protectors. 

Master List of Series

Sorry for the no smut in this chapter. Quite dull, actually, but we have to lay the ground before the real action can happen, baby. Also, this is the dress the MC is wearing, and the necklace and earrings Daemon gave her. :)

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