#connection terminated au

[fandomsoda]

Aight first Connection Terminated ref sheet done let’s go

Here’s Ink’s design!!

For context, brief summary of Connection Terminated’s plot here.

So, CT!Ink’s nickname is Brush, not very creative I know. But that’s just because these nicknames are only to be used by us as observers of the AU, in-universe they all still refer to each other by their original names.

Soooo character description time below the cut, boys- read the initial info post first or you’ll be confused.

Ink started to dust when the multiverse began collapsing, but was saved by Anti-Virus swooping in to activate his failsafes and apply code that allows Ink to live without his vials. Due to almost falling apart but never fully doing so, he is somewhat “scarred”, in the form of more black blotches all over his body. Ink has retained all of his memories from prior to the collapse. He’s got a very ring-leader type vibe and he’s the one enthusatically greeting the others and keeping things running. He’s often floating around observing things and trying to manage, often coming off as suspicious or shifty. He’s heavily pre-occupied with bringing XGaster back but he tries to hide it from everyone but Anti. No alterior motives, just wants the best and is being questionable. Trying to keep everyone sane until they figure something out.

His speaking font is Bad Script!

I should probably also mention that every character has a proper code name/name in the code, the title of the filegroup that makes them up.

Ink’s is “ai.ink_brush/protector:role/top:rank/sans:form/auto:vials[file-repair-failsafe].char”

now to translate-

“ai” - denotes that Ink is operating on a more independent level than other characters ; Ink is not tethered to any AU, nor is he really your typical “outcode”, he is a core, designated guardian. And thus I choose to label him as being supposedly an AI rather than an NPC like most of the other characters.

“ink_brush” - this is just a name, basically

“protector:role” - speaks for itself, he has the role of a protector

“top:rank” - rank within the multiversal hierarchy, Ink is at the top of the powercreep even if he’s not exactly the “strongest” (and no I will not debate this topic)

“sans:form” - Ink is a shapeshifter, noting his physical form makes sense.

“auto:vials” - the variable that denotes how much “vial energy” he still has left in his system, Anti found a way to make this auto-fill itself

“[file-repair-failsafe]” - his file was repaired and utilized failsafes, not completely rebuilt

“char” - he is a character

ok that was a lot, but I hope it lets people understand how these code names work, they won’t be super important but I just like them so they’re here to stay.

either way- hope y’all like him!

[incorrect-fnaf-quotes]

When Pizza Sim rolls around, Scraptrap has regained and remembered a few things—how to speak, Elizabeth, etc, but who he doesn’t remember... like, at all, is Henry.

As time passes post FNaF 3, he remembers Michael, and learns during Pizza Sim that he was also at the attraction—but recognition never occurs for Henry.

Henry, of course, discovers that Scraptrap is there through Michael—and that he needs to be dealt with, he figures. But he’s just... surprised by the end of it.

Starts talking to his old friend while the fire is going on, and Scraptrap’s just standing there like: “??? Who is this???” Absolutely nothing involving Henry sparks any old memories or anything.

[connectionterminated13]

AU where the Afton's deaths are swapped?

Elizabeth takes the part of Michael! she's a lot closer to her father and a lot happy then Michael. She's been driving around ever since her death on a motorcycle trying to free the other kids souls before they turn into monsters like her brother!

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Fifteen Weeks

Din Djarin x Cam Girl Reader AU

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI)  Summary: It's been fifteen weeks since Din Djarin first entered your life, now you can't imagine it without him. You take a leap of faith in your relationship and visit him at his farm. Warnings: Smut, loss of virginity, face sitting, premature ejaculation, unprotected p in v sex (reader is tested and has an IUD, protect yourselves IRL), mentions of sex work, anxiety, Din is bad at feelings, farmhouse emotions, goats!, yes I made Din Djarin a schnauzer owner don't judge me. Words: 5,050

A/N: Here it is folks, the follow up to Fifteen Minutes, which I originally wrote as a standalone. Thank you to @goodwithcheese for speaking so highly about Fifteen Minutes thus making me revisit this draft and finally finish it. I also want to thank @frannyzooey for taking a look at the bare bones of this months ago. I really love these two and I’m so glad they finally get to eat soup together.

Masterlist

___

“So, where ya’ headed?” the Uber driver asks, turning toward the departures terminal.

“Just to see a... friend."

“Hm. Must be a special friend to catch a flight this early.” 

“I guess he is,” you smile through a yawn.

___

Waiting to board. Can’t wait to finally see you! xxxx🙂

Hitting the send button, you shake your head still finding it hard to believe you’re traveling almost halfway across the country to meet a man. A man you’ve fallen head over heels for.

Can’t wait to see you too. See you soon.

His response arrives just in time. A nervous rush of excitement courses through your body before turning your phone off for departure. 

You wonder if your seatmate can feel your leg shake as the nerves tap out against the plane floor. Sure, you’re excited, you’re ready to meet Din in person but there still is trepidation twisting inside of you. You’ve never done anything like this at all. You’ve never met a client and now you’re on a plane headed to one. You’ve known him for only four months, but the connection the two of you share is something you’ve never believed to be something you’d find. You’ve dealt with enough men wearing wedding bands who tell you they love you, that you’re the most beautiful woman they’ve seen, that you’re their whole world. Love is a ridiculous concept when you charge ten dollars a minute. 

With Din, it’s different, it’s something that can be named, can be felt, can be solved, and yet so many questions about it remain. What do you call the quiet silence that exists between the two of you, happy to be on the phone keeping each other company every night? The small laugh and head shake he does whenever you tell him he’s cute? The random texts of his life that always brightens your day? The way he nods with zero judgment when he hears the ding of your new client alert? What do you call the decision that got you here on this plane? 

You read the same page over and over in your book. Will you sleep in his bed tonight? 

You give up on reading and stare forward at the little map on the seat screen. What does he smell like?

You look out the window and watch the clouds disintegrate around you. Is he just as nervous as you?

You turn the volume up and try to drown out your racing thoughts. Will this all be worth it?

Two hours left to find out. 

___

You step off the escalator, eyes scanning the crowded baggage claim area for the reason why you’ve taken a six hour flight halfway across the country. Your hands grip the backpack strap tighter trying to calm the nerves overtaking your heart and brain.

There, right there, leaning against a column alone in the shadows is Din and the brown eyes you’ve only dreamt of seeing in real life. He straightens when you make eye contact, but makes zero attempt to move, still frozen against the column. You lose the fight to hide your smile and excitement hurriedly shuffling over to him, he smiles as you get closer, the same shy half grin he gives when he says good night. His hands slip out of his pockets as you approach. Goodness, he’s so big and handsome, he could be a heartbreaker of all sorts to anybody he sets his sights on. The phone doesn’t do his beauty any justice.

“Hi,” you smile.

“H-hey, I can’t believe you’re… here,” his voice sounds even smoother and deeper in person.

“I am,” you shuffle on your feet. Hug me, kiss me, let me hug you, let me kiss you.

He tucks his hands back into his hoodie pocket, his silent rejection shoots a pang of longing through you. 

You thought it’d play out like a grand romantic movie, you’d jump into his outstretched arms and he’d never let go. Din’s rejection fills you with jealousy… screw all of the happy couples. You hate those movies now.

Touch me.

Of course he’s nervous, you’re nervous too, you’re just better at hiding it. He still leans against the column, shielded by the liminal space.

“Do you have luggage?” He’s right in front of you and yet you’re too scared to touch him, too anxious you’ll scare him away. 

“Nope, just my backpack and carry-on.” 

Hug me, kiss me, let me hug you, let me kiss you.

“Oh, okay, did you want to leave then?”

“I didn’t come here to see the airport Din,” you place a hand on his hoodie clad arm. He looks down and stares. 

Did you overstep? You couldn’t have, you just watched this same man orgasm for you last night while chanting how he couldn’t wait to paint you with his cum. 

“Din,” you snap him out of his stare, “come on, I’m ready to leave.” 

You know he’s not trying to reject you, but his nervous aloofness is overwhelming when all you want is for him to touch you… just once. 

“I—uh, here, let me take your bags,” he mumbles, reaching past you to grab your suitcase. “It’s really cold, do you have a heavier jacket?” 

“No, but I’ll be okay,” you reassure. The cold won’t sting nearly as much as Din’s seemingly innocent rejection.  

“Here,” he pulls the collar of his hoodie over his head. “I’m used to this cold. You aren’t.” 

You take the bundle of black fabric from his outstretched hand, not realizing just how cold you were until you put the hoodie warmed by his body heat on. It smells of him. Faint hints of campfire, wood, leather, citrus, and cinnamon. You wish you were wrapped up in Din himself, touching him, smelling him, tasting him. Hug me, kiss me, let me hug you, let me kiss you.

“Thank you,” you whisper. Whatever is happening inside of him seems to be bleeding over into your mind. You’re now second guessing every decision to come here. He was excited last night, he texted you this morning how he couldn’t wait to see you, is he disappointed? 

“Yeah, of course,” he nods and turns towards the door, walking away in quick strides leaving you alone in the dark corner near that damn column he’d rather touch than you. He has your suitcase and backpack, so either this is a really expensive way to get robbed or he has zero clue how his actions are affecting you. 

He turns back to you as he reaches the automatic doors, his eyes wide with guilt when he spots you still standing in the same place he left you. Well, at least he feels bad. 

You let a deep breath out to steel yourself and walk to him.

“I-I’m sorry, just not used to ever having to… you know…”

“I know, it’s okay Din,” you gently smile. What in the world have you gotten yourself into?

“I’m just—“

“Nervous. I know Din, it’s okay. I understand this is a lot.”

“It is, but just… know that how I’m acting is not how I’m feeling. I’m really happy to have you here. You’re so… beautiful and I—thank you for being here with me.”

There it is. Everything is worth it now. The early morning Uber to the airport, the neverending TSA line, the cramped airplane seat, the nervousness you feel. You’d do it all again to hear that sentence. 

“Of course, I know. You’re okay,” you take his hand. If he’s not going to do it, you’ll do it. “Come on, let’s go.” 

His eyes stay downcast staring at your hand wrapped around his.

You clear your throat to get his attention, his eyes snap up to yours. “Din, let’s go.”

“R-right. Of course. Right.” 

He leads you out the door, gripping your hand harder when the bitter wind lashes against your skin. 

The two of you weave your way through the parking lot until you reach a large silver truck. It’s clean with a few dents and scratches. Well taken care of but old. 

Din opens the creaky door and helps you step up. The black leather seat is smooth as you slide across it.

Din places your luggage in the back before opening his door and deftly stepping in. 

You hide a deep exhale when he starts the engine.

He clears his throat and you look over. “It’s–uh nice to see you in here.”

“I’m glad,” you smile, turning and reaching your hand out to touch his cheek. Your thumb finds the little heart patch on the side of his face, you’ve been thinking about how it’d feel since you first saw it. You can’t help yourself, he looks so delicate, as if he’s aching to be touched but too scared to ask for it. You’re holding a scared fawn in your hands. Don’t scare him, don’t move too quickly, let him figure things out on his own. 

His lips part as he inhales, deep brown eyes staring into yours, the nervousness radiating off his skin fills the truck cabin. You wish you could just throw caution to the wind and force him to tell you exactly how he’s feeling, to slide across the bench seat and beg him to take you right here in this airport parking lot. You don’t. You pull your hand away and put your seatbelt on.

“I can’t wait to see your home. I’ve never been to an actual farm before.”

___

You’ve seen glimpses of Din’s home in random pictures he’s texted you or your nightly FaceTime sessions, but you never imagined just how picturesque it could be. A large white two story farmhouse situated in the middle of a vast expanse of green grass, a small tin roofed barn sits to the side with a herd of goats happily grazing. Din’s life must be so peaceful here, very different compared to your townhouse in the middle of suburbia.

“It’s beautiful,” you muse as he pulls into the driveway. “I can understand why you never wanted to leave.” 

The truck stops in front of his home, a german shepherd and a little schnauzer run down the porch steps and head for Din’s truck.

“They’ll be fine with you, but let me get out so I can control them.” 

Din gets out of the truck, you chuckle to yourself as his clipped directions to the dogs are drowned out by excited barks. 

He opens your door and reaches his hand out.

“Grogu! Boba! Back!” Din shouts as he helps you step down. His raised voice makes your heart skip a beat. You didn’t know he could ever be this loud.

“It’s okay, I like your dogs, you know I think they’re cute,” you bend down and tap on your knees to beckon them over. “This must be Grogu,” you scratch his soft ears. “He does have big ears.”

“They’re not that used to other people.”

“Hmm,” you stand up and pat the top of Boba’s head, “sounds like someone I know.”

He chuckles as he walks up the porch steps and unlocks the front door. 

Warmth fills your body as you walk over the threshold. White walls, worn floorboards, antique furniture, all of it taken care of and clean. Tidy and well kept up, a lot like his truck, aged but in better shape and made to last; a far change from your newbuild townhouse and IKEA furniture. 

“Diiin,” you breathe, “it’s beautiful in here. Like… I knew you lived in a nice house, but wow, between this and the farm… when do you sleep?”

“I sleep enough. I’ll go get your bags, make yourself… at home.”

You take a seat on his couch, it’s perfect for him. Beige, simple lines, nothing fancy, not too comfortable, but probably the height of cozy after a long day working on a farm. Grogu jumps up and sits next to you, his little bearded face panting happily next to yours. You scratch his chest and praise him as he inches closer towards you. Boba stays near the entry, waiting for Din.

“Think he likes you,” Din says as he places your bags by the steps. “Don’t take Boba’s standoffishness personally he’s–”

“Like you. I know,” you smile.

“Did– what would you like to do?”

“Can I see the computer where you first talked to me?”

“Um, yeah,” he walks down the hallway leaving you behind yet again, “it’s just in here.”

You shake your head and rise off the couch to follow, obviously he’s not used to company.

You walk into a small office, everything has a place, efficient and tidy, perfectly Din. Paperwork stacked in neat stacks, a calendar with his sharp writing all over it hung on the wall, today’s date circled with your name written in the box. 

A black monitor sits on a mahogany desk. 

“This is the computer, huh?” you ask, running your hands across the black keyboard,

“It is.”

“So this is where it all began? You sat there, clicked on my picture, and now look. I remember when I first heard your voice,” you face him taking both of his hands in yours, “it was so deep and warm, it lit something inside of me.”

You guide his arms to wrap around you, his hands rest on your lower back.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you after our first session ended. There was something so pure and mysterious about you, I knew you weren’t lying about wanting to know. It wasn’t some kink you had, I knew you needed help. I felt lucky to be the one to show you.” 

He sighs as you rest your head against his chest hearing the rhythm of his heart. “I closed that window so many times before finally agreeing and joining. I-I kept on thinking about how I could talk to someone as beautiful as you, all it would take is just a click. You were so pretty.” 

“Just a click,” you whisper, craning your neck up as Din lowers his head. His nose bumps against yours, his plush bottom lip is captured between your lips, another part of him you’ve wanted to touch since you first saw him. You finally kiss him, sweet and tender, his lips molding to yours perfectly. He pulls you in closer, his tongue hesitantly dipping into your mouth as you lick against him. The past fifteen weeks have finally led to this moment inside of this old farmhouse office in the middle of nowhere. Your Din and his soft lips, tense hands against your back, your soft coos mingling with his low groans, you could stay in this moment forever, if it wasn’t for Din’s phone beeping in his pocket. 

“I’m sorry,” he pulls away, a bashful smile adorns his face, “I need to go take care of the goats before sundown.”

“Of course.” 

He hugs you, planting a soft kiss against your forehead and inhaling your scent before leaving. He’s warming up…

___

Din loves soup. You know this by the nights you spend with him over the phone. The man eats soup almost every single night. Soup with bread, soup and a baked potato, soup and steak, soup, soup, soup. 

You can’t blame him, the stew and homemade rolls he serves you for dinner are delicious. He shyly tells you it’s his speciality when he places the porcelain bowl in front of you. 

You could get used to the farm life. A fire burns in the fireplace while the tv plays Din’s favorite movie he’s been wanting to show you, some film about a galaxy far far away and an unlikely hero. The man loves space. 

His arm slung across your shoulder lies heavily on you, warming you inside and out. Grogu sleeps on your lap, softly snoring as you pet his gray fur. Din occasionally sneaks a kiss against your hair, you don’t know if you’ve ever been more comfortable in your life. 

The movie ends, a grand symphonic score plays over the credits. 

“That was really good,” you smile towards Din. “I liked it.”

A grin slowly stretches across his face. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah, thank you for showing me it.”

“You’re welcome,” he gazes at you, the same look he smolders through the phone, like he can’t believe his luck that you’re talking to him. 

You attempt to fight a yawn and lose. Your eyes blink tiredly at Din when he reaches and rubs his thumb against your cheek. 

“Did you want to,” he clears his throat, “sleep in my room with me tonight?”

“Only if you want me to Din.”

“I, uh, I do.”

“Okay, I’d like that.”

___

The airplane and long day washes off and rinses down Din’s shower drain. You use his washcloth and think of his hands touching you. You smell his soap and think of inhaling the scent as he holds you close. You don’t know what’s about to happen once you leave this room. If you’re this nervous, how does he feel? 

Din looks up from the book he’s reading and watches you step out of the bathroom shyly padding over and getting into bed.

“What are you reading?” you whisper.

“Some book about a cowboy warrior in space…”

“Sounds interesting.”

“It’s good.”

“You know,” you look around the simple bedroom, “I see this room all the time, but only the wall behind your bed, hardly anything else. It’s been really nice seeing more of your life.”

He nods, blinking back to his book. 

The night can’t end like this. 

You grab the book from his hands and place it on the table.

“What are you thinking about Din? I never know what’s going on inside of you.”

“H-how pretty you look wearing that.” 

You look down at the pink silk tank top and shorts and swallow down a smile. You specifically wore it because you know how Din’s eyes light up whenever you put it on. “It’s my favorite because it’s so soft. Do you want to feel it?” 

He turns to you wide-eyed and gives you a solitary nod. 

“Go ahead Din.”

His tan hand splays across your stomach, golden toned skin rests against the blushy silk of your tank.

“S’soft,” he murmurs to himself.

“Here,” you place your hand over his and press down, “really feel it.”

His eyes angle down watching your hand navigate his around your stomach to just below your breasts. His mouth sits slightly agape, thick brows furrowing in concentration as you slip his hand underneath the fabric, his trembling calloused fingers making contact with your skin. 

“Am I soft here Din?”

“Y-Yes,” he stammers. 

“Touch me, as little or as much as you want. Wherever you’re comfortable doing, okay?” you remove your hand from his. “I came here for you… whatever you want… I want..”

“I want to,” he gulps, “I want to touch you all over.”

“I’m all yours baby.” 

His shoulders deflate with a groan, he trails his hand higher to cup one of your breasts. The tips of his fingers peek out of the top of your tank. Tan, well worked strong hands lay against your smooth skin. The sight makes you moan, your teeth gnawing at your lip, trying to qualm the temptation to touch him further. 

“Take it off Din.” His dark brown eyes beam up to yours. “Go ahead baby.” 

He grabs the hem of your tank top, softly bundling it in his hands and lifting it over your head leaving you bare chested. 

“Kiss me and touch me baby,” you gently will. 

His lips form over yours, his hands return to your skin, petting and caressing your breasts before you cover them, pushing them farther down your stomach. His breaths quicken against your mouth when you slip his hands underneath the band of your shorts. 

“Fuck,” he pants against your lips when his hand meets the wetness seeping from your pussy. “Fuuuuuck.” 

“You feel me baby? That’s how wet you always make me, ever since the first time we talked and all you were was a black square with a sexy voice. It’s like we were destined in the stars.” 

“God damnit, you’re so soft,” Din’s hips buck into the air, his head thuds against the headboard when his thick finger slips in between your folds. “I-I-I oh god, I’m– I think I’m going to cum. I’m sorr–” 

“It’s okay baby, I’m here, cum for me.” Your hand reaches down and grips his hard cock through his black sweatpants. “Cum for me Din.” 

You feel a warm wet spot spread against your hand, pulling a moan from you.. 

“I’m--agh– sorry,” his big eyes stare at you, a hint of shame rounds them. “You feel so amazing.” He pulls his hand out of your shorts.

“No,” you whimper at the loss of contact. “I like it baby, I like that you like me so much that happened. Please don't apologize. Keep touching me if you want to. Do you?” 

“God,” his eyes shrink in determination, “yes I do.” 

“Okay baby.”

You sit in between his stretched out legs, lifting your hips to take off your shorts, spreading your legs wide, much the same way you do for your clients. 

He stares at your exposed skin, eyes mapping every dip, curve and dimple of your body. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. “I can’t believe you’re here… for me.”

“Of course I am baby.” 

His fingers trace the plains of your legs, moving their way up to your thighs. His face set in a determinative scowl, eyes fixated on your core as he inches closer to it, now aching and soaked for him. 

“I-I’ve never done this.”

“I know baby, you remember our first call?” 

He nods.

“Remember what I told you what I liked?”

Another nod.

“Do that for me baby, touch me. Make me feel good.” A thick finger meets your lips, tracing a line up from your entrance to your clit before softly rubbing a circle around your sensitive nub. He remembered.

“You’re so wet for me,” he breathes out, his eyes staying planted staring at your pussy beguiled by his own actions.

“I am Din, only for you. I think about you every time. I-I,” you moan when he sticks a finger inside, slowly pumping it in and out, “I only want you.” 

“Only want you too, baby. C-can I taste you?”

“Ye–oh my god, yes Din, I’m yours, do whatever you want to me.” 

“I’m yours, anything you wa–”

“Sit on my face,” he growls. 

“O-of course.” 

You crawl towards him, leaving a chaste kiss on his lips before straddling his face, your dripping cunt hovers right over his mouth. He grips your ass and pulls you down, smothering himself with all of your slickness. You cover him like a mask, he worships your taste like a religion, moaning and groaning into your sweet pussy. Your praises about how good he’s doing and how amazing you feel incant out of your mouth as he takes you to paradise. Plush lips suck and savor you, your hands grip the bed frame like a precious artifact, his devotion to you and your pleasure pulls a melting orgasm from you. 

“Din, Din, Din,” you pray at his altar, knees bowed and quaking against his ears as he drinks your offering down. You’re shattered, everything you’ve ever believed in replaced by Din and his idolatry of you. 

You move your lust drunk body off and lay down next to Din. His face shines with a gloss of you, his tongue peeks out and licks his lips, before sending you a shy smile.

“You’re amazing,” he incredulously mutters. 

“You are too,” a doting grin lights your face before pulling him in for a kiss. You can taste yourself on him, a moan leaves your throat at the realization. 

Strong arms envelop you, pulling you closer to him, his hard cock juts against the soft skin of your thigh. 

“Already?” you pull back and tease. 

“C-can I feel you?” 

“Feel me?” 

“Yes, c-can I… can we….?”

A rush of anticipation thrums through your body at the implication of his nervousness.

“Yes Din, we can. Are you sure this is what you want tonight? We can wait.”

“N-no. I want you, I-I want this,” he moves his sweatpants down, kicking them off. 

“Okay baby, okay,” you kiss him, grabbing his face, petting the soft hair of his sparse beard.

He rolls on top of you, cradling your head between his strong forearms, a heated kiss licks into your mouth as his naked weight covers you. Your legs open in a silent offer for Din to take everything you have. You can just feel the heft of his cock ghosting against your entrance. 

He looks down at you, brown eyes wide, plush mouth parted, brows softened with adoration. 

You send him a silent nod and smile when his cock enters you, feeling a sense of honor that you’re the one Din has chosen for this. You wouldn’t have it any other way. The green accept button, the reserved man dressed in all black, the deep voice, the connection between two screens. Now, you’re here with Din, moaning and rolling your hips to accept the length of him.

His neck strains when he sheathes his cock fully inside of you, panting and groaning as he slowly rocks back and forth.

“You … feel … like … heaven… I love your pussy… I love your body…. I… love you.”

He freezes at the divulgence, body locked in shock at his slip. 

Your face lifts in a reassuring grin. “I love you too,” your hand grabs his chin, bringing his lips to yours. 

You love him, you’ve known it for so long, but here in this farmhouse bed you can hear it, you can feel it. 

Your bodies meld, hips meeting, lips locked, he gives you everything, you give him everything. Your pussy clenches around his slow, full strokes. This is making love. 

“Baby, I-I.. I’m going t–” he strains. 

“Go ahead Din, I got you.” Your hands trail up and down the expanse of his smooth back. He grunts, burying his head into the crook of your neck, fevered breaths hit your skin as his cum fills you.

He rolls off, pulling you to his side and kissing the top of your hair. 

“Wow… I.. are you okay?”

“What?” your head perks up.

“You didn’t… uh–”

“I did when you fucked me with your tongue Din, I’m very happy and satisfied.” 

“Oh, I just… I want to make sure you’re good.”

“Baby, I am very good. Trust me.” 

“I love you,” he breathes.

“I love you too Din…” you rest your head against his chest, the exhaustion of the day settling in, quickly lulling you to sleep. This is the way to go to bed.

___

The faint sound of running water gently rouses you from the most peaceful slumber you’ve had. The sun has barely peaked over the horizon, the room’s still shrouded in a lazy darkness. 

Din’s long sigh echoes against the tiles of the shower like a siren song. 

You pad out of bed toward the bathroom, pushing the door wide open. 

Your mouth drops at the sight ahead of you… Din’s muscular, toned golden body shines underneath a glistening sheen of water. He runs a gray wash rag across his stomach, the mop of dark, curly hair right underneath his hand beckons you to look farther down. You’ve seen him so many times before, almost every night, but this is the first time you’ve been able to see all of him in person. Din is a big man, his cock matches his stature. Just as long, just as broad, just as golden. God, he’s gorgeous. 

You knock on the doorframe catching his attention, surprise tensing across his whole body. 

“Good morning,” you purr, “can I join you?”

He nods, his cock grows visibly hard when you walk over and get in. The warm steam, Din’s naked body, and the smell of Din’s cedar body wash engulfs you, this is the way to wake up. 

“Mmm, the hot water feels good,” you sigh, leaning your head against his chest. Din’s cock rests heavily in between you, tempting you to touch it. “Want me to wash you?”

He groans a yes. 

“You can wash me too,” you propose, squeezing a dollop of body wash onto your palm, running it across your chest before leaving suds on your hands. “Go ahead Din.”

Drops of water land against your skin as his trembling hands slowly reach for your breasts. He massages and kneads, both palms laying against your tits, his touch turns more searing when your hands land on his chest, rubbing in the soap along the dusting of hair stretched across his broad body. 

Your nipples pebble under his nervous, firm touch and undivided attention. He hisses when your hands slink farther down, running across the damp curls of his happy trail leading you to his cock standing between his thighs, thick and dripping. You wrap a fist around his length, his knees weaken causing his body to smash against the wall, his face grimacing in pleasured agony.

“Fuck,” he pants, water rains down into his wide open mouth, splashing out with every exclamation of your name he repeats as he cums all over your stomach. 

Your tongue runs up the column of his neck to his mouth, swallowing his rapid breaths. 

“You feel so good against me,” he gasps against your lips. “I can’t believe you’re here.” 

“I am baby, I am,” you coo, wrapping your arms around him, wishing you could live in this tiny shower forever. This is the way to wake up.

___

Din settles on the porch swing next to you, pulling your blanket wrapped body close to him. 

“Is this what you do every morning?” 

“Just about,” he says before taking a drink of his coffee. 

“It’s nice,” you yawn, “early but nice.” 

He chuckles, “You get used to it.” “Mm,” you rest your head on his chest, smelling the fresh dew and hay on his flannel jacket. 

“I really like you being here,” he softly says.

“I really like being here too.”

“You know,” he gulps, “you can do your job here… with me.”

___

A/N: Thank you for reading! This ending makes me feel:

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddie-week.

Reach Out and Touch Someone

Day #7 - Prompt: Free Space | Word Count: 1500 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Alcohol | POV: Steve | Tags: AU, Wrong Number, Right Person Trope, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Meet-Cute

Steve dials the number messily scrawled on the scrap of paper. He’s nervous. He’s always nervous when he has to stick his neck out and make a move on a girl these days. 

Yeah, he did the first bit of legwork and got her number out at the bar last night. But he's fumbled the ball and failed enough times, Robin's loving, but accurate, "you suck" burned in his brain, that he's always leery to try again. He should be used to it by now, but it’s still uncomfortable and awkward, every goddamn time. If his friends weren't all fretting about his emotional well-being from being so terminally alone, he wouldn’t put forth half the effort anymore. 

He has Robin. He has his cat. He's happy. 

It rings three times before he hears it connect, “Hello?”

It’s a man’s voice, and he hesitates for just a moment, “I’m looking for, uh, Lyla?”

“Sorry, man. Wrong number.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I must have misdialed,” Steve says, a different kind of embarrassment. But this is one he can handle easier, for sure. So he pushed the wrong button somewhere along the way. His eyesight isn't the best thing he's got going for him.

“No worries, man,” the other guy laughs, seemingly carefree about being bothered.

They each disconnect and then Steve reads, and re-reads, the number before dialing again. More carefully this time.

It rings only once before it���s connected.

“Still me, dude,” the familiar voice relays, still light and friendly.

“Wow. I’m so sorry. Clearly, I was given a fake number. That's embarrassing,” Steve laughs, because this is more embarrassing than misdialing. He's uncomfortable and mortified to admit that this girl just didn't want him to call her. Even if he's only admitting it to a stranger.

She should have just told him no. He hates that she didn't, for her sake, too.

“Shitty move,” the other guy answers.

“Yeah, well. I'm sorry I bothered you. Again. I promise to cross-check any future numbers against yours before dialing, just in case.”

The guy laughs, "Well, now. Don't go to any trouble for my sake. Honestly,” and he doesn't sound put-out at all, “don’t worry about it. She clearly didn’t have the balls to just, be, like, honest. That sucks.”

Steve laughs, maybe if she'd had balls this wouldn't have happened at all. Most men feel more comfortable just saying no, he thinks, which is sad but true. He swings both ways, and maybe he should take this as a sign to lean the other way for a while. See if that works out any better for him. 

It probably won't, but he could try.

“There goes my big weekend plans,” Steve teases, uncertain why he does it, even as the words tumble out of his mouth. He needs to hang up the phone and let this guy get back to his own life.

“Dude. That's a problem I can solve. I’m gigging tonight. You have to come. Let me entertain you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Whatever. I want to. Just show up. It’ll be a great story, will it not?”

It would be a great story. One he could even tell Robin to convince her he’s living a little, “I don’t even know your name. What if you’re a serial killer or something?”

“Yep, that’s me. Vicious killer,” the guy laughs, “I’m Eddie, man. And I’m a fucking ball to be around. You’ll want to take me up on this awesome offer. We’ll all be down at Hellfire Club around eight. Show up. If you think we’re murderous, you don’t have to follow us to any secondary, secluded locations.”

Hellfire Club is literally two blocks from Steve’s apartment. He's been past it countless times, but never inside. It's always dark. Like it's not even open, making him unsure about what kind of bar it is, it's so nondescript from the outside. Not to mention the name is a little intimidating. He'd half-convinced himself it's a BDSM club. 

But, now that he's been invited, he could just walk down and see what’s the what, “How will I know which guy you are?”

Eddie laughs, “You’ll know. Trust me.”

Steve has a hard time trusting anyone new these days, but Eddie seems friendly enough. 

Steve realizes he must have been quiet for too long, because Eddie starts talking again.

“I’ll have on a badass battle vest. Look for that. You'll see me. It's impossible not to. I promise.”

“Okay,” Steve agrees, even if he’s not sure what a battle vest even is.

“Now, are you going to tell me your name, or will that just be a surprise?” Eddie asks.

Steve laughs, “Steve. I’m Steve.”

“Well, I’ll see you later, Steve.”

Steve stands in front of his closet for far too long, trying to find something to wear that doesn’t look too nerdy. He assumes Eddie's cool. He sounded cool, and Steve may have been cool in high school, but these days he just keeps his head down and goes through life, content to be fairly unnoticed. He finally settles on a black t-shirt. Basic, classic. Timeless.

Boring. 

But that's a risk he's willing to take.

He walks down the street slowly and arrives around eight-thirty. The windows are still all blacked out, tinted to the point he can't see anything inside. There's just the neon sign with the Hellfire Club over the door.

When he pulls open the door, he's in a hallway that's painted all black, with a bouncer at the end, stationed at a door. Steve kind of wants to turn around, flee, but he doesn't. He's already here. He might as well at least see. Robin will kill him if he chickens out.

He gives his ID to the bouncer, and is directed down a staircase. He really hopes this isn't a sex club. 

It's not.

And as soon as he crosses the threshold into the bar, yes, he knows Eddie instantly. He’s gotta be the one on the bar, pouring shots directly into various mouths. Steve knows he could turn around right now and this adventure could end. But watching Eddie laughing and prancing up and down the bar with flourish, clearly having fun, makes Steve want to go up and meet this guy.

Steve takes an open seat at the end of the bar, kind of out of the way, and just watches Eddie work the crowd.

The bar is blaring It's Raining Men and Eddie is playing up the song, big time. He's not a stripper, at least Steve doesn't think he is, but he's working the crowd for tips, absolutely. He keeps handing them down to a curly-headed guy, who keeps stuffing them into an overflowing jar.

Steve's pretty sure this is a gay club, or at least queer friendly. Maybe he has found a place for himself, something that's been right here under his nose, all this time.

When Eddie finally jumps down off the bar, Steve watches him work the rest of the room.

The other guy comes over and takes Steve's order, and he doesn't quite have the same flourish, but he's efficient and confident with a bottle and jigger.

"Name for the tab?" he asks, shaking the drink Steve had picked from the list.

"Steve," Steve says, and the guy looks up and meets his eyes.

Surely not. This doesn't feel like this is Eddie. He is wearing a vest, a red plaid one, but the other guy also has a denim vest on, full of patches.

"Eddie?" Steve questions, needing to make sure.

"Gareth," the guy says, "that's Eddie," he clarifies, pointing at the one Steve had correctly clocked as Eddie to begin with. "You're his wrong number guy, right?"

Steve nods. He supposes that's what he is, "Yeah. That's me. Loser in love."

Gareth laughs, and it makes Steve smile.

"That's our specialty here, you'll feel right at home," Gareth teases.

"Glad to hear it."

"I'll tell him you're here," Gareth assures, "he wasn't sure you'd come."

"That makes two of us," Steve admits, and Gareth smiles as he finishes shaking Steve's drink, putting it down in front of him.

"On the house. First-timers to Hellfire drink free," Gareth says, and then he's walking away. 

Steve's eyes follow Gareth across the bar, watching as he taps Eddie on the shoulder, leaning close to his ear, pointing right at Steve.

Eddie looks, meets his eyes, and Steve raises his hand, giving him a small, little wiggle of his fingers.

A huge smile spreads across Eddie's face as he bounds in Steve's direction.

Eddie's quickly right in his personal space, squeezing both of Steve's shoulders, greeting him with a smile, "Welcome to Hellfire."

Steve smiles, liking the feeling of Eddie's hands bleeding through his t-shirt, warming him.

Eddie lets go, and Steve misses the feeling already, but Eddie stays. Sliding onto the stool next to Steve, "I'm glad you came."

And Steve's completely honest as he answers, "Me too."

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddie-week and follow along with the fun!

Notes: If you're too young to remember it, reach out and touch someone was the slogan/jingle for Bell System telephone company back in the day. So, that's where the title comes from, as a play on the wrong number phone call trope.

[aura2023]

👉👈 do you have more content from your DW/Hijack crossover?

[ Edit January 2024 -> This was an ask from june 2023. I didn't realized that I left this ask in the drafts for more than 7 months and didn't post it. I'm so sorry anon :,( ]

Hello! And yes i do! Here are some of the sketches :D I don't have written down how i want the interactions between the characters to be yet. I choose the 10th doctor for now but i'm still in doubt of which regeneration i want hiccup to meet

I don't have like an AU or a story planned (? but i can share some little ideas under the cut.

The first time they meet is by accident. Hiccup and toothless got separated. It's the night fury the one that hears a strange sound. Following it into a cave there were dragons in cages along with a man with strange clothes opening those cages. The man sees the dragon and greets it, He calls himself The doctor. And tells toothless to get away before the dragon trappers get back to the cave.

The doctor invites hiccup and toothless to travel with him. Promising an adventure not only far away from the archipielago, but far away in the stars. When they see the tardis for the first time hiccup couldn't believe that it was bigger inside. He even started to take measures and making notes.

Hiccup learns that the doctor can speak dragon. He watches as the doctor and toothless hold a very long conversation. When he asks about it the doctor just says "Isn't it obvious? I speak dragon. Don't worry toothless was just saying good things. " Hiccup wants to learn dragon speech.

Hipo at first goes traveling with the doctor without telling anyone since they can go back home 5 minutes after leaving, time travel stuff. This is perfect for hiccup, he can go and have this crazy adventures without compromising his duties as the son of the chief.

Of course if you are observant you would notice that the boy started to became more taller really fast, and when asked about things that happened in the day he wouldn't remember those very well. This starts making problems.

- Hiccup and toothless go with the doctor and see different worlds, space whales and dragons surfing through the stars. The technology and the change of scenery can be too much but they are de terminated to explore and learn.

For the hiccup and jack ship in this Doctor who crossover.

This is in our time present (2023). When jack first appears, he is like a ghost. Can't be seen so he is always alone. Like a wind. He spends his time doing pranks and helping missing kids go back home.

His body is trapped in an old alien machine but his mind is " roaming free" in the world. That machine is inside an alien spaceship that fell into the earth many years ago. Jack "found it" when he fell into the frozen lake +/- 300 years ago. Jack like in the movie has seen the world go forward.

Jack can't go time travel into the TARDIS since his connection with his body will be broken. They can still travel around the globe.

In between adventures Hiccup and the doctor visit Jack. It's the most "normal life adventures" they can get lol. Jack teaches Hiccup about the technology and what the 21st century has to offer. Videogames, comics, how he spooks people in old buildings. Hell they can even go and urban exploration. Stop the typical alien invasion with the doctor. Jack meeting toothless. Hiccup talking about his life back at berk and his adventures with the doctor.

One day a group of aliens attacks a city searching for this machine. The doctor alongside Hiccup, Toothless and Jack try to stop the enemies plan. They discover the machine and that jack's body is inside of it. If the enemy finds it they will kill jack in order to use it themselves, the doctor wanted to destroy the machine but now they now is the only thing that is keeping jack "alive."

Now i don't know what they will do after that. Haven't thought much about it. But i know that i want Hiccup to meet both jack in the future, and in the past (before getting trapped in the machine) Maybe he does time after jack is gone. The doctor takes Hiccup 300 years in the past and meets Jackson Overland the week before he falls into the lake and into the machine.

He can´t stop what's going to happen to Jack but he can prolong it. So one day he asks him if he would like to join them. He does. Until jack decides to go back with his family and the day after that he falls into the ice.

I'm sorry that Jack/Hiccup doesn't have a happy ending. My friends told me that i can be a little angst machine.

Edit January 2024 -> I kinda remember that i made another ending but i can't remember where i wrote it. I'm so sorry anon, perdoname por las tardanzas y las respuestas largas. And please forgive me if there are grammatical mistakes and not correct use of words. Tried my best.

[quasar-kaiser]

if you're just looking for sketchy stuff-

how do you think totk!moon reacted waking up post arm removal /losing sun?

because canonically link has no reaction to anything and I imagine that wouldn't be the case for moon.

(+ bonus question- did the celestial siblings already know each other before the events of totk? are they siblings? very curious about the au)

Waking up with all your clothes stolen and your arm replaced by one that previously belonged to a magic sky furry would piss me off too tbh

The reality of what happened only really hit Moon when he picked up the decayed master sword - but all he can do is press on and hope that somehow that flash of yellow light had meant that Sun is still alive.

... and because he didn't have his hat when he woke up I just wanted to draw him finding one in a chest because I felt weird only showing him bald lmao

But for your question! Yep! Breath Of The Wild still happened, and they are twins (ramble under the cut)

However, due to the king being an ass of a father (yes, it's Creator), he had decided that Moon would be separated from Sun at birth. They were aware they're siblings, but were kept apart enough to not really feel much of a connection.

When the two were born, the Sheikah had told the king and queen that Sun inherited his mother's power of light, while Moon had not. Terminal illness took their mother a few years after, and the king decided that Sun needed to develop his powers as they knew the Calamity was coming and his mother was no longer there to defend the kingdom.

Moon was pushed towards knighthood so he could serve the kingdom and no longer "distract Sun". The king basically just dropped him off at the house of the top knight in Hyrule and ordered him to train the young child. Moon was never treated as a prince or even as a brother to Sun again from that point forward. He was damn good at swordfighting though 👍

The Master Sword claimed Moon as its new master, and finally the king cared about Moon's existence again. He was to be appointed as Sun's personal knight. Sun... did not like this. He and Moon had become so estranged that Sun just felt like he was babysat and watched even more than he already was.

But Moon proved to be very devoted to protecting Sun, and the events of the Breath Of The Wild memories play out. Sun starts warming up to him after Moon saved his life, and the two slowly start rebuilding their sibling bond from that point forward :]

They are now inseparable and absolutely devoted to protecting eachother

(except they get separated twice lol, once during the events of BOTW, and again now)

Thank you SO MUCH for this ask though, I'm so happy people are interested in this au!! It is so very dear to me

[the-common-cowgirl]

Greater of Two Evils -Part 3

Summary: When you’re unable to share your brother’s happiness, you end up in the hospital. All hope is lost when the greater of the two evils in your life comes to your “rescue.”

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen/Reader

Warnings: DD;DNE, Modern AU, Non-Con/Dub-Con (heavier on non-con), Physical Violence to Reader (choking, manhandling), Mentions of injuries to reader, Feelings of hopelessness, Elitism, Forced Pregnancy, Forced Proximity, Breeding/Pregnancy Kink, Non-Consensual Arranged/Fabricated Relationship, Dom vibes, Rough/Painful sex, Unprotected sex

Word Count: 5K

A/N: Quick reminder that this is a dark fic! Reading dark fics in a modern setting can feel more real so please, read the warnings carefully before reading further!

Masterlist

A week passed with no so little as a text from Aemond. With your current condition, you weren’t sure if the silence on his end was a good thing or not. Sure, you looked up other options. A way out. A way to terminate the pregnancy… but then Aemond’s words loomed over you like a dark cloud. Coming back to you all at once, the second you even thought about escaping him.

“-your entire family and most of all, your brother is ruined. I have my finger on the trigger right now.”

What could you do? What should you do? Aemond hadn’t contacted you in over a week. Maybe he just wanted to scare you and leave? Forget about you. Oh Gods, you hoped he had forgotten about you.

Your brother nearly pranced into the kitchen, opening the fridge to grab a drink. From your  vantage point on the couch, he looked happy, giddy. You tried to hide further behind your laptop, pretending to be busy with the schoolwork you should be doing and not stressing over anything. 

Don’t give him a reason to be suspicious of you.

“Hey! Wanna hear some great news?” He interrupted your act at homework.

You sighed and shut your laptop on your lap, looking up to your brother with thinly veiled disdain. “Sure.”

If he noticed your discontent, he did not speak on it. “That trade deal, last week, remember? I was trying to get through parliament? It passed!” He smiled widely toward you, as if that was a reason you should be ecstatic too.

Your lips formed a crooked smile, trying to hide the fact that you did not care nor did you see the reason you should. “Huh, that’s great.” Then you remembered, a week expired memory of Aemond telling you that he blocked the trade deal flashed in your memory and your blood ran cold. 

Why did it pass? What did he want now? Was I wishfully thinking this was over?

Your brother’s smile faltered, “Shouldn’t you be excited? That’s a win for us.”

He snapped you out of your spiraling dread. “Us?” You looked up to your brother, slight anger rising in your heart though you were too afraid to show it.

He nodded, moving closer to you, towering over you on the couch. “Look at what I’m doing for this family. Be grateful for my sacrifices. Do you know how many nights I stayed up past midnight trying to speak to my connections in parliament to get the trade deal to pass? Do you know what this means for us? For me?”

He speaks of sacrifices as if he was the sacrificial lamb I am.

You narrowed your eyes up at him, feeling emboldened by the anger bubbling up inside you. Your brother had no clue what it was like to sacrifice…anything. So he lost sleep? So what. You lost your sense of self, your dignity, your freedom. And again, all he lost was sleep.

“Honestly, I don’t care what a trade deal means for you. I don’t care how it’ll boost your standing in the company.” Your brother looked shocked at your words, you continued to glare up at him. “Because you don’t give a shit about me. I lost all respect for you when I realized you had none for me.”

Your brother stuttered, looking shocked. “I’ve given you everything. I love you.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You have a fucked up way of showing it-”

Before you could realize what had happened, your brother grabbed your wrist and painfully jerked you up to your feet, although, you were not prepared to stand and lost your footing once he let you go, falling to the group, hitting your head on the glass coffee table and shattering it underneath you. Your laptop that was on your lap fell amidst the shuffle and your weight landed on the top of it. 

Once you realized what happened, you felt blood trickling down your head, wrist, forearm. Your brother paid no attention, leaning over you, so close to your face as he spat angrily, “You are nothing without me.” He grabbed the already bruising wrist and jerked your body closer, scraping along the glass. “No one in this family is anything without me. Never forget that.” His voice was low, possessive, demonic. He shoved your wrist away and walked from the scene he had caused. 

You were left in the living room, trying to make sense of what happened and what you should do. You looked at the wrist he had grabbed, now turning purple and swollen. You felt the blood falling from your head to the white, fur rug that was underneath the shattered coffee table’s frame. You went through the motions numbly, standing up, grabbing your phone, laptop, walking into your bedroom and grabbing your wallet, stuffing those three belongings in your school bag and walked out the door. 

You knew you needed to seek medical attention, feeling the faint sting of your wrist breaking the absolute numbness you felt, and alongside that stinging, you began to feel dizzy. You called an Uber, thankful the driver didn’t ask questions or speak as you stared ahead after directing him to Sunspear Foundation Hospital. You only answered the questions they needed to know, the nurses, remaining quiet when three nurses came in and asked you if you were in a domestic abuse situation, asking if you knew you were pregnant from the mandatory pregnancy test you had to take upon arrival. When the social worker came in, she asked if you were safe at home.

Were you? No. Did you tell them the truth? No.

A nurse knocked on the door, the sting in your wrist still painful as you were denied all pain killers due to your condition, instead, you moved to sit up, using the non-swollen wrist. “Come in,” you said meekly.

She stepped in, just barely, trepidation in her proximity. “Uh miss? I have a visitor here for you-”

You furrowed your brows at her, wondering who would even know you’re here-

Aemond appeared from behind the nurse and moved to thank her before shutting the door to your room and looking down at your bandaged self lying in a hospital gown. His remaining eye was hard to read, he was hard to read. He set you on edge and given what had just happened, you knew the monitor connected to your finger sensed your pulse quicken. 

He glanced up to the rising numbers and decided then, to sit down next to you. Eye raking over your bandages without even a hint to what he was thinking, feeling. Being near him set you on edge. And the question you didn’t need answering popped in your mind.

How did he know I was here.

In theory, you knew. You knew he was well connected. You knew he had eyes on you. You knew that he always knew what you were up to. But here? Even at a hospital you couldn’t escape his eye.

“Who did this to you?” His voice was even, cold, deep. It terrified you.

“Um-” You began, for some reason wanting to protect your brother. It was unfortunately second-nature for you at this point.

“Don’t fucking ‘um’ me. Was it that wastrel you consider a sibling?” His voice was no longer even, it had an edge to it. It reminded you of the movies, when the man who loved the woman saw her hurt and was ready to kill for her given the word. It would have been romantic….if it wasn’t Aemond. 

“Yeah,” you croaked, moving your uninjured hand to your bandaged wrist to play with the bindings. “He- He didn’t mean-”

“I don’t fucking care if he meant to or not, you’re not allowed there again.” 

You looked at him, truly looked at him for the first time in a week. He was still in his suit. It looked like he had just come out of a parliament session. His hair was pulled into a low ponytail behind his head, only a few strands had been pulled out. His tie looked like it had been previously tight, now loose. He looked like he was slightly disheveled, not a usual look for him.

Did he drive all the way from King’s Landing once he found out I was in the hospital? Did he care about me? Was he worried?

You shook those ideas from your head as quickly as they came. Aemond was not a man to care about anything.

He’s worse than your brother. He’s another shark. You’re just another small fish in his pond.

“Do you hear me?” His voice cut through your thoughts, you hadn’t realized he had been talking. Blame it on blood loss or sleep deprivation at this point. Blame your attention span and your wild thoughts on both please. Blame both on anything but a sound mind. “You’re staying at my flat in Dorne until the wedding.”

You furrowed your brows, “No I’m not. I’m going home.” Blame your boldness on both too. Your heart sank as you realized what you had said, now growing anxious at the reparations you would pay for speaking back.

His eye remained neutral. “I’m not letting you go back there. Not after what he did to you.”

Why do you even care?

“Besides, It’ll give me more time to see you-” He tried to reach his hand up to grasp your uninjured one but there was another knock at the door. You told whomever it was to come in and Aemond’s embrace left your hand thankful as the doctor stepped into the room. She explained you had a sprained wrist, along with other minor cuts that would heal hopefully without scars thankfully to her using medical glue instead of stitches.

Finally, she smiled at the two of you as if you were a happy couple, giddy with joy at the prospect of a child. Maybe Aemond was…. But she told you that she went ahead and scheduled your follow up with a midwife in three days from now. “I know it’s a bit early for you to see them, but given the events of today, I’d like you to get started on your appointments with the prenatal care providers to ensure that both you and baby,” she pointed to your flat stomach underneath the hospital gown, it made you want to hurl, “are alright.”

She stood and shook your uninjured hand, then Aemond’s as he thanked her happily. She informed you both that the discharge nurse would be around quickly and you could leave then get some “much needed rest.” Dread pooled in your stomach as you realized you wouldn’t be able to rest where you were going, into the jowls of the beast.

The discharge nurse was quick, Aemond was quicker to help you out of your hospital gown (thankfully not bare to him as you kept your underwear and bra on), and he diligently, like an obedient and sweet partner, led you through the hospital, out into the warm night to where his black sports car sat parked. Even like a gentleman, he opened the door for you to sit. His engine roared to life, you glanced into the backseat, remembering the position he had you in a week ago on that leather fabric. 

On top, pretending I was in charge, much like right now. Though, I’m never in charge right? It’s only the facade.

His flat was fifteen or so minutes from the hospital, maybe five from your brother's. It was big and spacious, much like your brother’s expensive flat. But where your brother had the flat furnished bright and modern, Aemond had his furnished dark, old academia style. It screamed “Old Money” and you nearly laughed at how drastically different Aemond and your brother were while also sharing a single central attribute; they were both terrible people.

“You are sleeping in here tonight,” Aemond walked through a doorway to a bedroom, assuming you would follow… and you did. You looked around the dark bedroom, a King sized bed in the middle topped with dark coverings. There was a bathroom and walk-in closet off of it. It was a master suite. It was Aemond’s room. He deposited your school bag beside the bed. “I see you didn’t bring anything but a broken laptop and your wallet. You’ll need clothes.”

You fidgeted with your clothes you had on now. They were comfortable, you could sleep in them but Aemond walked into the closet, turning on the light and stifled through his clothes. You knew he wasn’t going to give you space. He’d force you to sleep in the same bed with him in his own clothes. He owned you. He knew you were too scared to say one simple word: ‘no.’ 

He walked out of the closet with a large T-shirt. It had a band’s name on it. “Here,” he offered and you took it. 

That was it… a t-shirt.

“In the morning, we can order you more clothes for here but for now, you can sleep in this.”

“Clothes for here.” He’s serious about me staying.

A chill ran up your spine, uneasiness rose in your throat.

Just for tonight, you told yourself. He can’t hold me captive. 

You looked over at Aemond who disappeared into the bathroom. From your vantage point, you could see him stripping his fine clothes in the wall length mirror and folding his clothes and setting them atop the hamper. You thanked the Gods he kept his dark boxers on.

Or can he? Fuck. What will he do if I don’t stay?

The word stay echoed in your mind, remembering the time in your childhood where you were teaching your Northern Riverlands Waterdog to stay. He was one, you were nine. He’s dead now… he stayed, obediently; as you commanded… in the Riverlands until his death. Was that your fate with Aemond? Pliant? Agreeable? Quiet? Like an obedient hound?

As Aemond emerged back into the bedroom, towering over you, you gulped your fear down and the truth of it all came bubbling up.

If I don’t change, if I dont stick up for myself… that answer is yes. 

“Are you going to change?” Aemond asked, breaking you from your haze. You looked up to him, briefly wondering if he heard your thoughts until you remembered the t-shirt you were grasping for dear life in your uninjured hand. 

“Uh…yeah.” You stepped past him, making your way to the bathroom. You shut the door behind you, breathing a sigh of relief that Aemond allowed you to have privacy to change. You pulled your shirt off as quickly as you could with a sprained wrist, wincing slightly as the soft fabric of your shirt drug along some of the wounds that were bandaged. Your shorts came off easier. You kept your underwear and bra on and managed to get into his shirt. The shirt was large, you swam in it, however, it barely reached past your bottom and anxiety crept up your neck as you realized  how much skin you were going to bare to his prying eye. 

Slowly unlocking the door and stepping out of the bathroom, Aemond was already sitting in the bed, his legs hidden underneath the dark covers as his back rested against the headboard. He looked over to you, eye raking up and down your body as you stared ahead to the place next to him where he intended you to sleep. Your words to yourself came flooding back into your mind.

If I don’t change, nothing will.

“I don’t feel comfortable sleeping in your bed tonight.” You mustered up all the courage you could possess, forcing yourself to make eye contact with him. He only scoffed and threw the coverings over his legs off. Standing up and striding toward you like a predator and you, prey. You felt the urge to cower given the happenings of today but you fought the urge. Before you knew what was happening though, Aemond grabbed around your waist, hoisting you over his shoulder. You kicked against his stomach to no avail, tried hitting his back until you remembered your wrist was sprained and sharp jolts of pain shot up your arm. You croaked in pain, trying to grab your wrist instinctively but before you could grasp it, Aemond threw you into the soft plushness of the bed: where he intended you to sleep. 

He moved to hover over you but you kicked up at him angrily. He dodged your foot, grabbing it mid-kick and gripped your ankle tightly, mirroring your brother several hours ago, yet not as harsh. He glared down at you, and you up at him. Emboldened by your fear, fueled by courage you were forcing. You wanted to spit in his face; you had half a mind to do it. Aemond glanced down, an idea flashing across his features and before you could act to defend yourself he reached down and ripped your lacy bikini bottom underwear from your core, exposing you now that the shirt was bunched up around your waist. He let go of your leg and stepped two paces backward, eye still drawn on you as he held your torn underwear in one hand. “Consider that your punishment for thinking, even for a second, I’d let you out of my sight.” Making you sleep without underwear as a punishment; what did that mean for you?

You scoffed and pulled the dark comforter over your lower half to cover yourself and Aemond started walking around the bed toward his side. “Seems like an easy thing to do considering you’re lacking half,” you mumble as you turn on your side, back to Aemond and pull the covers all the way to your neck.

“What did you say?”

Your blood runs cold, you hadn’t realized he had heard your snark but he did…and his tone was dangerous.

You feel the bed dip a split second before you feel his hand roughly grab your shoulder to pull you onto your back and face him. All your courage and anger wiped from you as you stare up, wide-eyed at his expression; one akin to hatred. 

“What. Did. You. Just. Say.” He grits out between clenched teeth. You think momentarily that he might slap or punch you as a hand behind his head slowly raises but that notion in your head dissipates as the hand closes around your neck; constricting oxygen and blood flow. You reach up to remove his hand with your injured and uninjured hands, clawing at him but he does not move. Your head starts becoming light. 

“I was going to be a gentleman tonight, give you the rest you so deserve… but it seems you’re in need of a lesson.”

You can barely register the words as your vision starts to become blurry. Just as you’re certain you’re about to pass out, Aemond releases your throat. You cough, sputtering up and drooling as your eyes glaze over in tears. You run a hand along your throat and the skin is painful to the touch. You’re unaware of Aemond as you try to recover your body from the blood and oxygen loss to your brain. You feel dizzy still, the feeling is not ebbing. Absent-mindedly, you try to sit up in search of a deeper breath and Aemond takes advantage of your upright position to rip his shirt off you, unclasping your bra and throwing it behind him, into the void of the room. 

You feel his hands on your breasts and realize he’s still kneeling on the bed in front of you, slotted between your legs covered by the comforter still. You move to push his hands away from you but he grabs your wrists in one hand and pushes you against the bed. 

“Be a good girl and take your punishment willingly. I might even give you some rest tonight if you’re good.” His fiery breath is on the shell of your ear and your eyes are screwed shut in pain as his grip on your sprained wrist sends jolts of torture through your body. You squeal hoarsely at it and he takes notice, releasing your wrists. “Keep your wrists above your head and that won’t happen again.” You nod without hesitation, thankful for the pain to begin to fade. 

Aemond’s hand engulfs your right breast. You feel him kneading it in his large palm, then flicking his tongue against your nipple until it stiffens to a peak. His tongue is nice, soft and warm. Maybe if you thought about that, softness, you’d enjoy it - what’s to come. He moves to the other breast, repeating the action until both of your breasts appear to his liking. He sits back, marveling at your bare chest. “Open your eyes.”

You can’t do it, can’t obey. Your eyes remain screwed shut.

You hear him scoff, most likely rolling his eye as you feel him move just beneath the covers to the apex of your thighs and slapping you harshly on your bare center. You whimper and give in, opening your eyes. He’s clad only in his boxers, just as he was before he choked you but for some reason, seeing Aemond towering over you in only his boxers makes fear gnaw on your nerves. You look up from the tent in his boxers to his face. His remaining pupil is black now; he looks like a demon, here to steal your soul.

“I am going to fuck you,” he says simply, slipping out of his boxers and discharding them beside the bed. “You’re going to thank me for servicing you so well, understood?” You look down to the ruddy tip, leaking of precum, straining hard against his own skin; like a caged beast.

“Understood?” His tone was one of a teacher or a parent after scolding a child. You looked up to him and nodded; unsure if you didn’t want it at all or wanted him to shove that glorious cock into you. 

No, no you definitely don’t want that. 

“You’ll also thank me for giving you my lineage.” He moved the comforter from your lower half, exposing your entire body to him. “Not every woman gets to carry a Targaryen in their womb. You should be honored.” He slotted himself between your legs, bending them at the knee and spitting down to your core. This would have been a hot, passionate coupling if he hadn’t been Aemond and if he hadn’t just said what he did. 

You pushed the back of your head deeper into the pillows, wanting to escape this hellscape as you slowly came to your senses. Everything came back to that fucking thing.

He ran the rigid edges of his cock along your pussy, up to your clit. It sent sparks along your belly but died before they could ignite anywhere else. Your fire was burnt out, any semblance of arousal died the second he reminded you that he put his semen inside of you and that it unfortunately took root. 

His aching cock caught along your entrance and he pushed against your rejecting walls. You knew he was well endowed, the biggest you’d ever taken, but gods, you hadn’t realized just how large his cock was until you didn’t want it. Maybe the fact your walls tried to push him out made him seem larger than he was but you nearly screamed when the head of him pressed harshly against the wall of your cervix. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, pulling out slightly, only to push into your refusing cunt again. You whimpered against his second push. His body fell to encompass your own, burying his head into the skin of your neck, breathing his flames against your artery. 

“You should really give in to me. It’ll make it a lot easier for you-”

“Why,” you bit out against his ear without much breath, “you’re going to fuck me anyways. Why do you care?”

Aemond raised, just enough for you to see his smirk and eye over your pained expression. “You’re absolutely right.”

His hips snapped harshly against you, stealing the breath from your lungs. You felt cramping begin in your abdomen from how harshly he had begun to take you. “Gentle-” you pleaded as you screwed your eyes shut and pushed his chest with your uninjured hand. “Please.”

You heard him huff above you, “Why? Like you said, I’m going to fuck you anyway. Why should I be gentle for you when this,” He accentuated that word with a thrust that made your whole body freeze in pain. Your muscles when taut and he half-moaned. “This is what I want. How I need it. How I like it.”

You pushed harder against the smooth, solid planes of his chest, “I- I’m carrying your child-” It was the first time you said it out loud, first time you admitted to yourself the truth you couldn’t bear. Now, more than ever, felt like a great time to make it an excuse. “Please- be gentle with me.” 

Your voice was so small, cracked with emotion as tears began to form in your scrunched waterline… but it got the message across.

Aemond stopped completely, still nestled inside of you. He felt your walls ease as he ran a hand up the curves of your body, stopping with his hand cradled along your ribcage. Your eyes softened until you felt the urge to look up at him through your tears. His expression was soft, contemplating over your nude figure.

He leaned down, taking your breast in his mouth, groping at the base near your sternum gently. You felt another hand more to your clit, gentle pressure moving along the pearl. 

His sudden change surprised you but nothing caught you off guard more when his head moved up from your breast to your face and kissed your parted lips hungrily. Tongue slipping past your lips. It was awkward, you didn’t kiss him back, still shocked at his sudden change. 

He pulled from your mouth, rutting gently now into your walls that had begun accepting him with his ministrations. “I’m sorry,” he kissed your neck, “you’re my delicate river. I do need to be careful with you.”

You furrowed your brows, looking sideways at him. Scared to speak but also so confused, “I’m not yours, Aemond.”

He smiled and kissed you again, hand moving down to your stomach. “You’re carrying a part of me inside of you. I’m with you, always. How are you not mine?”

You turned your head away, trying to escape the gnawing pleasure that was now betraying your body. Aemond moved his head to your hair; silver locks intertwining with the falsely dark locks of your own dyed head. “You’re so perfect. You always have been, haven't you?”

He angled his hips to brush against your spot, you felt your body betraying you, allowing him into your most intimate part now with grace and fever. Your walls relaxed completely, growing wetter and wetter. You felt your heartbeat quicken, perspiration began to pool on your forehead. 

“C’mon sweet girl,” he tweaked with your nipple, “give in to me.”

“You’re a monster,” you breathed quickly between the pants you were trying to conceal.

“Y’know you love it. Even if I am.”

“You are.”

He hummed to himself, rising up and hitching one of your legs over his shoulder, reaching deeper than before. Still playing with your clit as his thrusts became quicker but still gentle. “Then what does that make you then, huh?” He smirked from above you, “Because gods- the way your cunt is starting to clench around me, I know you’re liking my cock, loving it. You love this extension of me, you wanton whore.” His words were brash, harsh…but he spoke in reverence. “Gods-” he moaned, “and I’ll teach you to not just love this extension of me, but all of me.”

You felt your peak nearing but not being able to reach the summit as his bed-room talk was absolutely insane. “I’ll never love you.” 

Your breasts bounced along with his thrusts, he smiled down at them in reverie before his lone eye met yours. “Keep telling yourself that, my beautiful river. See who wins.”

He pinched your clit harshly and thrusted up into you with a gentle fever that had you tumbling over the edge. You saw stars as your back arched off of the bed. Body and mind betraying you as you gave in to him. Your cunt clamping down on his member and your blissed out expression, along with a half-scream you weren’t aware you made had him toppling over the edge, hips faltering in their pistoning as he shot his load against your already seeded womb.

Panting, he laid gently atop you, caging you in with his sweaty body as he came down from his high. His hand came up to caress your hair. He began planting sweet, chaste kisses on the side of your face. No, no they would have been sweet if they weren’t from Aemond but your mind dissociated as his softening cock still laid within you, his lips on your face, his hand in your hair…his child in your womb. 

You kept thinking about what he called you, during the act.

“My beautiful river.”

At least he saw you for what you were. Your roots, your homeland, your personality.

A river flows, leaves where and who it once was, changes course, cuts through the land unapologetically. 

You took a deep breath, staring into the abyss of Aemond’s dark room.

Be a river.

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! As always, comments, reblogs and likes are appreciated but not necessary!

Taglist: @croatianprincess @toodlesxcuddles @drwstarkeyy @gemini-mama @iloveallmyboys s @boofy1998 @ammo23 @zenka69 @lokiofasgard12

[buff-muffin]

When it comes to the ASL brothers one “what if” situation I can’t stop thinking about the idea of. What if Sabo named dropped his brothers to Dragon at the grey terminal fires. Like in that scene where he clung to Dragon’s arm and spoke of his hatred to his own blue blood, what if he added in a plea of like “please save Ace and Luffy. They’re my brothers”

Cause like, I don’t know much about Dragon, I’m just wrapping up Zoh and heading to WCI. But he runs a fucking army so he’s not stupid. The name Luffy. Mentioned on an island in the east. As well as Garps home island (and maybe his too idk?) are enough connections to think. Hey, there’s a good chance that’s my fucking son.

But as I said, I really don’t know him well enough to tell if upon hearing this news would he be a “grrr I have a job to do. he will be fine. business bla bla bla >:[“ or maybe a “my sons a fucking child I need to make sure he’s ok >:0” I do think a small parallel scene to loguetown arc of like Luffy meets dragon would be hella cool (maybe he got lost from the bandits in the fire and Dragon beat up a pirate trying to hurt him) and they just stare for a moment before dragon points the way silently and Luffy runs off cause how tf do you pull the I’m your father card when your son is literally being traumatised right this very second.

But even if that DIDNT happen. When they eventually pluck a dying Sabo out of the water like a fucken grape. Dragon would know Sabo has more family there then just his parents, he had brothers. Would that result in Sabo being dropped back with them? Or maybe he gets his memories back earlier when Ace first makes a name for himself??? Would Dragon do his fucken research or at least encourage Sabo to early on in revolution school to find out what was left behind???

I SWEAR I NEED TO HURRY THE FUCK UP ON ONE PIECE SO I CAN START MAKING UP FICS AND AUS CAUSE I NEED TO MAKE THIS A THING BUT I NEED TO KNOW MORE ABOUT DRAGON TO KNOW WHAT IS AND ISNT A STRETCH OF HIS CHARACTER. RAAAAAAAA

[zillasafe]

Layton Fear and Hunger Crossover AU

Because the brain rot is terminal and I can’t stop thinking about it. More info and doodles under the cut!

So why’s the gang in the Dungeons of Fear and Hunger?

Initially, the dungeon was a harmless ruin that was of passing interest to archeologists. However, one Clark Triton realized that some of the architecture in the structure was similar to a previously thought unrelated artifact, the Cube of the Depths. And so Clark got a little team together, sent Layton a letter saying where he was going, and set off on a little expedition to investigate the possible connection. Unfortunately, bringing the Cube within the vicinity of the Dungeon was like throwing a lit match on a powder keg. Time travel shenanigans ensue, plunging the Dungeon, as well as Clark and his team back in time to the 1500s when shit was crazy.

After several days of no contact from Clark, Layton takes Emmy and Luke to investigate.

By god should Luke not be there. There is so much wild shit in this dungeon and Layton spends a good chunk of time trying to shield Luke from all of it. They do try to get Luke outta there asap, but discover that they’ve already delved too deep. There’s no escaping the way they came. They’re trapped. The adventure soon becomes just as much about finding a way out as it is finding Clark.

Luckily Luke proves to be quite the asset. His ability to talk to animals comes in handy many times. He’s able to talk down the hounds at the entrance, he can speak with birds and insects to gather information, and he manages to get Moonless to join the crew. (Maybe he can even talk to the Crow Mauler? Who knows…) However, obviously the trip through the dungeon is the hardest on him. They’re here to find his dad, and the further they go, the more hopeless it all seems…

Eventually they run into Descole. Because of course he’s here too. Fortunately he’s eager to join the team. Not even Descole can handle being in the Dungeon on his own. While he’s certainly helpful, he’s just as enigmatic and morally dubious as ever. How long was he here before Layton and co. showed up? Perhaps the Darkness is getting to him…

Anyways that’s all I’ve got for now! Not sure how much of an overlap there is between Layton and Funger enjoyers, but if you’ve got any ideas or questions, lemme know!

[fandomsoda]

concept:

The multiverse has somehow collapsed due to a severing of the connection between it and the creators’ (our) universe

Ink and Anti-virus (I hope people remember him-) somehow survive and patch themselves up with/are desperately doing everything in their power to keep everything together by compiling scrambled remaining source code back into some semblance of a world and the most core characters of the multiverse. This of course has less than stellar results and everyone is just existing in this messy, fucked up, altered state while Ink tries to keep everything from falling apart while he figures out what’s eclipsing the connection.

Dream, Nightmare, Error, Killer, Cross, and most recently Blue have been “reconstructed” but everything is messy and glitchy and imperfect, the world they exist in is empty and vast, and brighter times don’t necessarily seem to be ahead. Error is absolutely in the worst shape out of all of them, but everything’s just slightly wrong with everyone.

very much something that might turn into a new project of mine, will update as I think of things, just yeah-

[incorrect-fnaf-quotes]

Molten Freddy has no plan—after having to leave Michael, and then getting rid of Circus Baby, they’re all just like “???”

All that really happens is the bear simply wandering, and all of them talking and sharing whatever story any of them think of.

Oh, look—there’s a place. Stays there for a bit, but then has to go. Oh, look—another place to stay. Can’t be there for too long.

Oh, look, a pizzeria—they all figure they could stop wandering, and that Molten Freddy can just remain somewhere and try to have some fun.

Uh oh, Connection Terminated—everything’s going horrible.

[piosplayhouse]

Outline for modern genderbend svsss au where they're all trans milfs (except for Binghe who is trans still but not a milf) cinematic universe:

[Act 1] Shen Yuan was on his path to a teaching degree at age 22~23 and began shadowing high school tenured teacher Shen Jiu (no relation, they just have the same last name and hate it) where he changes a young Binghe's life by protecting him from bullying and just generally being a better teacher than sj. Right before Binghe's last year of school, sy's health takes a sudden decline, he's hospitalized, and he has to postpone his degree. Through a miscommunication, Binghe believes that sy was fired for having too much contact w Binghe and is now somewhere else- devastated, he enrolls at the prestigious, yet secretly abusive, uni that sy had pushed him to apply to, with the goal of becoming successful enough to pull strings and give sy whatever he wants

[Act 2] While hospitalized, Shen Yuan staves off boredom by being terminally online. Through this, he meets and quickly becomes unlikely friends with 40 something year old mid tier author Shang Qinghua. Sqh offers sy an admittedly unglamorous job as her editor since he's pretty much given up on his degree at this point, as well as a place to stay away from his family when he gets out of the hospital. Sy accepts and after moving in, gets to know sqh, who is a trans woman who transitioned in her 30s when her first big book deal put her in a stable enough position to do so. Sy realizes she is also trans; the two gradually make sqh's newest work a bestseller and she's suddenly inundated with publishing and movie deals. Happy times. Meanwhile, Binghe becomes a demon (frat boy)

[Act 3] Sy hits 30, now comfortable in her cushy job as sqh's editor/agent. Unfortunately, she is tragically diagnosed with breast cancer shortly after her birthday. She undergoes a double mastectomy and luckily fully recovers with a strong support network, but the stress has taken its toll on her and her health and she begins going grey early. Binghe, now also a girl yippee, received unexpected inheritance money sometimes during uni and used it to become a highly successful businesswoman with connections throughout the education, political, and publishing spheres (because she remembers shen yuan was a big reader and wanted to be a lit professor). Now on the hunt for her old teacher, she's tipped off to her new life by business partner gilf-fucker Mobei Jun (38) who recently started seducing sqh

misc: in her 20s sqh made some quick cash by donating sperm, so biologically she is actually probably a grandma at this point

[nylonfizz]

WARRIOR CATS INFECTED AU!!

CHARACTER SHEETS!!

Shadow, wind, and skyclan have merged due to the outbreak to hopefully make taking care of thunderclan, the main clan infected at the moment easier. Thunderclan cats are to be captured when able to, and terminated if showing any signs of infection. This has proved easier said than done the to the unpredictable and violent nature of the infected in later stages.

Connection with starclan has been compromised due to it being too dangerous to travel to the Moonpool. Though some cats have claimed to see a starclan cat wandering the clans, most of these claims are from Shadowpaw.

CONTENT WARNING FOR STAGE 4 INFECTED

[q-ueen-potato]

GUESS WHO IS BACK?!?!?

Yes ME with more about my Cosmic Royal au

(Again thank you for @crazysaru99 for all the amazing drawings and the help on the au. Without you this wouldn't be possible)

The fairies are split in classes and the number of their wings is directly affected by it. It is possible to change the perception of the wings ture nature but not the wings itself. Like a mirage or illusion.

The way to de terminate what class each belong is

First class - Royal family, seelie court(main family) and the council.

Second class - Seelie Court(other family memmbers), some aristocracy and knights (may add other folk)

Third class - commom fairies

After Cosmo Sr. was born there was an event to introduce the royal prince to the fairies, on this same day Jorgen meet the prince.

Jorgen is a first class fairy as he is from a main family on the seelie court. He also have knights in his family being part of the fairy army.

His mother fought in the great magical and he was really close with the royal family. He also doesn't remember about them since this was long long time ago.

He is just a bit older than his aunt Tuli Von Strangle (Mama Cosma)

While growing up, Cosmo Sr. didn't minded about how his father would soon forget, he always wanted to share his day and tell stories and just be around his dad.

Gonzo didn't ignored his child willing as he would mostly dissociate for a long time or forget where they are for a moment. He would always recognize his son thou, even if for a moment in his memories he was just a baby.

The events that lead to Gonzo's state was a mix of the attacks during the great magical war, his own stress and his own magic.

Stella had to assume the head of the family since the day they scaped the castle and even if she feels ready to break she will rise her head and face what she needs to do.

The secret will be revealed on a festival, Timmy had learned about a anual festival that happens in fairy world and wished to be there. It wasn't prohibited for godkids and Timmy even found one or other godchild around the fair so this was fine.

The festival was to honor and celebrate all the lives lost during the Great Magical War. The current Fairy King, King Oberon, was giving a speach about the honor of his family and the sacrifices of the crown withou a single remorse even if he knows he is a fake.

Eventually Cosmo distracts himself to get something to eat and find his mother, they argue as she tries to bring him back to her and Cosmo Sr. who just happens to be there goes in defense of his son.

Wanda appears with Timmy and because of their arguing they accidentally end up in one of the old tunnels

The tunnels are a giang catacombs under the fairy castle connecting the dungeon and other areas. One of the areas is a garden where the mural made to celebrate the birth of the prince

The mural was abandoned but the faces are easy to recognize

And then the secret of the royal family is revealed. With a wish, Timmy let the truth spread for the fairy world

After facing the council and being revealed what was done, Cosmo Sr. Is crowned King Cosmo I.

And his family restored to the throne as they deserve.

Cosmo Sr. have a talk with his oldest son Schnozmo that because of all he has done is welcomed in the family but cannot be a heir to the throne leaving this to Cosmo.

Alot of fairies wanted to Cosmo and Wanda stop being godparents because of their current status but they couldn't do it as their heart is to make children happy, and they love Timmy too much

[rarepears]

Sad ideas time: when Shen Yuan transmigrates, so does his sickness. When Mu Qingfang inspects him pts Qi deviation, he discovers most of SQQ's cultivation is focused on suppressing a terminal illness, and must have been for a while. all he and YQY can think is that SQQ knew and has been hiding it purpose for... Well, basically as long as they have been peak lords, if not longer.

TRULY SAD TIMES!!!

For bonus sad times, Shen Yuan has some illness (like cancer) that causes him to bruise like a peach. With this "qi deviation" and the sudden appearance of all these bruises, Mu Qingfang and Yue Qingyuan assume that some sort of talisman illusion just failed because there's no way for all these bruises to appear in front of their eyes all of a sudden! Shen Qingqiu must have been concealing them!

Mu Qingfang says that this type of illness is triggered by [insert rare life situation that Yue Qingyuan's brain can't help but connect to the Qiu Manor and slavery]. The goods news is that Mu Qingfang has medication to control the disease; the bad news is that the cure is extremely rare and involves an ultra rare ingredient that's presumably extinct by now totally not heavenly demon liquid gold.

[More in #shen yuan transmigrated with his illness; mu qingfang and yue qingyuan comes to the Wrong Conclusions AU]