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victoria-daydreams · 6 months

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The Hare and The Tower

Chapter Fourteen: Vile Rumors

AN: *scratches neck* yeah so remember when I said this chapter would be out a couple weeks after I posted that preview, well I got an upper respiratory infection literally that same week and between trying to recuperate, work, and school this was put on the back burner. Hopefully, with this chapter being long it makes up for the absence. And God help me, it's been so long since I've written anything so be easy on me lol.

Trigger Warnings: age gap, vomiting

Word Count: 5.3k

Taglist: @dogmatic255 @sidechrevans @amethystwonders11 @ladysindar @sweetwanderlust05 @newandykes @helloimlateforeverything @loveofvernonslife @stitchattacks @dariequeen @kishie8 @girlonfireice @snowymarvel1205 @greenlightower @harrypotteranna23-blog

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Summary: Still reeling from the fallout with Otto, Jesmyn is quickly forced to learn two harsh lessons. The transgressions of her husband are also hers to bear and brazen half-truths are worse than lies.

Chapter Fifteen: We Light the Way

A terrible dread washed through Jesmyn as she approached the carved, oak door ahead of her. The corridor was far too dark, too quiet. Her body felt heavy, and the air was akin to molasses—each step closer seeming to take a greater effort than the one before. Fear, panic, and apprehension coiled and collided within her, the onslaught of emotions created a horrible churning, stomach twisting vortex.

Coming to a standstill just outside of the door, she reached out with a trembling hand to knock on the door, but froze in mid-air.

"I've been informed I'm to travel to Driftmark with Princess Rhaenyra. We sail at dawn," Jesmyn announced quietly, her hand limply dropping back to her side.

Standing outside of Otto's bedchamber door, a shiver ran down her spine for the night seemed colder than most. Jesmyn could only stare at the warped flaws in the wood, waiting for a reply, but ultimately was met by silence. Jesmyn strained her ears for a sign of movement behind his door, for she knew he was awake, and he knew that she knew it as well. With each passing second, Jesmyn felt her heart turn into lead, sinking down further and further in her chest. She remained silent for a few more moments.

"I'm here to bid you farewell Husband, as we part on our separate journeys," she continued, placing her hand on the door. "You are angry at me, this I know," she acknowledged, releasing a shaky breath. "But I will not depart without speaking these words. I love you Otto," she said. 'Despite the harsh words we traded, my heart remains yours. Should anything—"

Forcefully, the door swung open drawing a startled gasp from her as the heat of husband’s gaze burned into her own. Otto's expression was unreadable as ever, his jaw was set tight while his mouth a thin line. They held each others stare for a few seconds, both waiting for the other to say something. Jesmyn broke first.

"I will not let our last words be ones we regret," she said firmly

Another long, uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Still, Otto only stared at her, an act which only began to draw Jesmyn's ire. She knew her husband well enough that she didn't expect an immediate reconciliation, but the hope was there in her mind. To her, this silence she was being subjected was bordering on ridiculous, did he not comprehend her words? She was set to sail on the unpredictable waters of the sea.

"I see," Jesmyn said softly, with a nod. "I shouldn't have came. I'm sorry for disturbing you," she apologized, dropping her eyes from him to the floor. "May sleep find you well, Husband," she wished, before turning away from Otto.

Wrapping her arms around herself, Jesmyn walked back down the corridor to her own chambers. The sun will be up again in a few hours or so.

"You posses both beauty and brawn,"

A velvety voice broke through the silence, lingering in the air like a caress. Jesmyn froze in place, mid-step, before slowly turning back around. Once more, her brown eyes stared at Otto’s blue and for the first time she finally noticed the tiredness around his eyes; the way his face was paler than usual. Their argument had taken its toll on him far more than he would let on.

"It's why I was so keen on securing your hand in marriage," Otto continued, deeply exhaling as he moved towards her. "Yet, your intellect fails you when it comes to Rhaenyra. Too blinded by friendship to recognize it is very the manner of how she manipulates you," Otto noted, coming to a stop in front of her. Leaning down, he pressed his lips against Jesmyn's hairline. "Knowingly or not," he uttered, before kissing the top of her head and lingering there for a bit.

Otto drew back and pushed the few loose hairs from where his lips had touched.

"Otto," Jesmyn whispered, leaning into his embrace.

But as quickly as his embrace came, he retreated from her. Entering his chambers, Otto spared one last glance at Jesmyn before he shut the door.

~~~x~~~

The Next Day

Sitting on the quarterdeck, needle and thread in hand, Jesmyn listened to the waves gently crash against the sides of the ship; the wood creaking as they swayed in the ocean. One by one, Jesmyn's needle stabbed through the white fabric. Her stitches small and perfect, forming the shape of the High Tower of Oldtown, its beacon unlit.

Unconsciously, she let out a breath, slow and heavy, while pulling the needle through again. All of the events from the day before still weighed heavily on her mind.

"Your stomach must be made out of cast iron, Lady Hightower," Criston said warmly

With a grin, Jesmyn looked away from her work to the knight standing in front of her.

"It has a mind of its own," she replied. "Some days I'm the vision of perfect health. Other days—"

Not too far off in the distance, Viserys groaned loudly before vomiting over the edge of the ship.

"Not unlike that, I suppose?" he questioned, slightly amused.

"Very much that," she agreed, laughing lightly. She felt her babe kicked her, as if to express its agreement. "Poor man," she added, shaking her head and glancing at the ailing king.

"Lady Hightower, may I ask you something?" Criston inquired, bringing her attention back to him.

"Of course," Jesmyn answered, a kind smile on her lips. "And there's no need for titles, we're not in front of the court. Jesmyn will be just fine," she corrected. "Ask your question Criston, my ears are open," she encouraged, gently laying down her sewing into her lap.

"Before you married Lord Hightower, did you ever think about... running away?" he asked, an unfamiliar tinge of anxiety in his words. "Freeing yourself from the duties and responsibilities unfairly placed upon you?" he went on.

Jesmyn chuckled softly, "What highborn girl hasn't?" she asked back, her shoulders slightly bouncing with humor. To answer your question, I have Criston, many times, ashamedly," she confessed.

"What stopped you?"

"Well, my family of course. I would miss them so very dearly," Jesmyn explained, as if it was obvious. "Gods, I couldn't begin to imagine the heartache my mother and father would suffer," Jesmyn continued, shaking her head. "Not only that, for my entire life I've known nothing but comfort and privilege. The thought of discarding that to be free, but poor is…unthinkable," she finished, her brows knitting together.

"Is that what most highborn girls believe?"

"I have no doubt they do," Jesmyn insisted confidently. "Make no mistake Criston, we highborn girls may constantly bemoan and complain about what is expected of us, but we know what's at stake if we don't," she assured. "I don't mean to offend, but I must say, you’re asking such strange question Criston. Why? Jesmyn wondered, her curiosity piqued.

Criston shifted from one foot to the other, "What if there was a highborn girl…one who was willing to runaway and forget all she's ever known?" he posed.

"Is she running away by herself?" Jesymn questioned, her brow furrowing.

"No, with her lover," he answered, hesitating between sentences. "Her lover who wants to take her away from everything she despises about her station,"

"Criston," Jesmyn called lowly. "Tell me, which highborn lady do you speak of?" she inquired, curiosity now morphing into concern.

"It's only a hypothetical, milady," Criston uttered, making Jesmyn's eyes narrow in suspicion. "But, should this lover and his lady runaway, know he would bring her unimaginable happiness," he said. "He has heard his lady's complaints, and wishes to free her from it all," he claimed, hope shining in his eyes.

"Criston, whatever you're thinking about doing, stop," Jesmyn stressed. "This will only end poorly for both of you," she warned.

"You don’t believe she would except my proposal,"

"Whoever this Lady is, It’s unlikely she would," she replied bluntly, with a scoff. "She's not going to give up her titles, her land, or riches for some lowb—” she continued, abruptly letting out a sharp gasp.

Her sewing needle had bit into the tip of her finger. Jesmyn couldn’t begin to recall when she had grasped her embroidery again. Crimson quickly rose to the surface of her skin, falling in heavy drops.

"My Lady!"

"I'm fine," Jesmyn reassured quickly, grabbing her handkerchief and pressing it to wound.

Silently, she was thankful for the prick against her finger, her next words would’ve crushed Criston’s hopeless romantic heart

~~~x~~~

The wagon ride to High Tide was one of bumpiness and strained silence. Lord Lyonel Strong, the new Lord Hand sat directly across from Jesmyn, casting glances of pity at her much to her annoyance. She didn't want his pity nor did she need it. Rhaenyra was seated next to her, refusing to spare her father a glance.

For the last stretch of the ride to the castle, the party had to leave the wagon and walk to the stone archway gate. Reaching the top of the stairs, the doors swung open to reveal High Tide in all its glory. Towers made out of gray stone and crowned with roofs of silver that reached high into the gloomy skies above.

The sound of steel clanging against each other drew Jesmyn's eyes away from the grandeur castle and to the two figures sparring a few feet away from the royal entourage. One possessed silver hair which she easily knew belonged to Laenor Velaryon, the other with red hair was unknown to her. The two men bowed in front of the party. It was also in that moment when Jesmyn realized no one was there to greet them.

"How odd," she thought.

"Where is Lord Corlys?" Lord Strong asked, annoyed and offended by the disrespect. "He should be here to receive the King," he reminded.

Lord Strong's words barely left his lips when the doors to the castle opened and a silver-haired man and woman descended the staircase The young woman could be none other than Lady Laena Velaryon.

"Welcome to High Tide, Your Grace," Laena greeted, with a bright smile on her face as she gracefully came down the steps.

"What is the meaning of this, Lady Laena?" Lord Strong demanded pointedly, taking a few steps forward. "Is this how House Velaryon greets its King?"

Lady Laena's smile remained, "My father has but just returned from his long journey and he has hastened to the Hall of Nine to await Your Grace's arrival," she explained easily, walking closer to them.

"Let's just get on with it," Viserys stated tiredly.

With that, everyone followed Lady Laena into High Tide. Jesmyn looked at the King from the corner of her eye, his brow glistening with sweat from the trek up here and his breathing heavier than anyone else's. It was worrisome to see Viserys’ health rapidly deteriorating before her eyes. The effects of his worsening illness had sucked away the luster of his healthy complexion and been replaced with a sickly white color. From what Otto told her, poorly healed wounds littered Viserys' body and the cost of that led to having two fingers on one hand removed. It's why he always wore gloves nowadays.

Once Viserys and Lord Strong walked inside the Hall of Nine, the guards immediately closed the door before Rhaenyra, Laena, or Jesmyn could enter themselves.

From her left, Jesmyn heard Rhaenyra let out an annoyed huff. Jesmyn could hear the Princess' thoughts without having to have them spoken. First, father decided who she should marry and now she's not even allowed to join the conversation.

"Come," Laena said as she intertwined her arms on Rhaenyra's and Jesmyn's. "Let us see what might be had to break our fast,"

~~~x~~~

The three girls conversed with one another while enjoying a fine breakfast. After about an hour or two, Laena gave Jesmyn and Rhaenyra a tour of High Tide. When their tour concluded, Rhaenyra decided to depart from the group so she could speak privately with her betrothed. Laena followed suit, being escorted back to her room by one of her servants for a dress fitting. This left Jesmyn to her own devices.

Leaning over on the outdoor balcony railing, Jesmyn exhaled as she gazed out at the ocean. The view was something straight from a painting. Above, the sun beamed down onto the gentle waves below her causing the water to take on a tint of gold. It was beautiful—breathtaking, really. The ocean reminded her of his eyes. They were deep, powerful, and sometimes mysterious, yet always comforting and gentle. Jesmyn smiled inwardly at the thought, wondering how Otto is fairing on his trip back to Oldtown.

Glancing down, Jesmyn could see the silhouettes of Rhaenyra and Laenor far off in the distance on the sandy shore.

"I must admit, I was surprised to learn of your presence amongst the voyage with the royal party,"

Jesmyn's breath caught itself in her throat, startled by the voice. Turning away from the railing, Jesmyn did not anticipate to see Princess Rhaenys in front of her.

She dropped into a curtsy, "Princess Rhaenys," she greeted, lowering her head. "It's an honor," she added sincerely.

"I hear a congratulations is in order," Rhaenys said, motioning for her to rise. "Laena told me you are with child once more, Lady Hightower"

"I am, Princess Rhaenys," Jesmyn answered, beaming ear to ear. "Thank you," she said, dipping her chin slightly.

"This will be your third child, correct?" Rhaenys questioned curiously.

"Yes," Jesmyn replied, her hand instinctively coming to rest on the bump. "There were some complications in my last pregnancy, but Lord Hightower and I made it through," she informed, rubbing her hand up and down her stomach.

"If you are here, I'm curious to know where is the Lord Hightower?" Rhaenys wondered. "Seeing as he has fallen out of the King’s favor," she reminded.

"My Lord Husband is returning to Oldtown," Jesmyn informed. "No doubt he’s already making the long journey back to The Reach," she guessed.

"You will not be joining him?"

"No, I will not, neither will the twins. King's Landing will remain our home," Jesmyn answered. "Princess Rhaenyra offered me the position of being her lady in waiting a day before my husband's dismal," she explained. "I accepted,"

Rhaenys only hummed, her eyes doing a once over of Jesmyn, "I can't imagine your husband was enthused about this arrangement,"

"Livid more like," Jesmyn corrected, a mirthless chuckle escaping her lips.

"And yet, this outcome, unfavorable as it is, Lord Hightower still managed to succeed in one aspect," Rhaenys said, her gaze turning into a calculated one. "Albeit, a small one," she added pointedly.

"And that is?" Jesmyn asked, not liking the shift of mood in the air.

"You, Lady Hightower," Rhaenys answered simply. "Who better to be his eyes and ears while he's away from court than his own wife, a lady in waiting to Princess Rhaenyra herself," she said, making Jesmyn's eyes bulge.

"I-I would never—" Jesmyn spluttered.

"There are things we think ourselves never capable of doing, but we wound up doing them all the same," Rhaenys cut in, taking a step closer to her. "Loyalty, seems to be a weakness for Lord Hightower. When push comes to shove, we'll discover together if you share that same weakness as your Lord Husband, Lady Hightower," she finished in a whisper, as Jesmyn visibly shrank back from the icy glare.

~~~x~~~

King's Landing

With a cold stare, Jesmyn scanned the near lifeless shell that was supposed to serve as her living quarters from now on. It was a downgrade from The Tower, but pleasant nonetheless. The space was cozily furnished, echoing the opulence and expensiveness of the quarters she resided in with her family when she was unmarried.

Unceremoniously, Jesmyn allowed herself to plop down onto the plush settee before maneuvering her body to lay flat on her back. A loud, exhausted sigh came from her as her head rested on the arm of the settee, one of her ankles dangled off the cushion. Jesmyn's entire morning had been chaotic since the moment the ship sailed from Driftmark back to King's Landing.

Standing at the quarterdeck, Jesmyn watched the foamy waves as they rocked the ship through the water. A light sea wind blew against her, moving her hair slightly into her face. It all happened so fast, one moment she was admiring the sun shining brightly in the clear blue sky. Then, Criston storming off in her direction, his mood darkening anything in the vicinity and cryptically uttering three words bitterly as he passed, "You were right,"

Lest she forget the most startling occurrence of the morning, King Viserys collapsing to the ground after taking one step outside the wheelhouse in King's Landing. A shocking scene to witness, but Jesmyn's mind couldn’t have been further elsewhere. Since last night, she remained in a sour mood after her conversation with Princess Rhaenys, which she knew Rhaenyra had noticed the change in her demeanor.

What was she supposed tell her? That her older cousin accused her of being just as deceitful as her husband was and attacked her character? Rhaenyra would only brush it off as Princess Rhaenys' personality of not being one to mince words or her usual cynicism. To keep her sanity, Jesmyn decided to remain silent and to brood, her feelings had been dismissed more than enough times in the past two days, she was ready to snap if it happened once more.

Slowly, Jesmyn's eyes began to droop low, the toll of the voyage beginning to weigh on her body.

"Lady Hightower," a handmaiden called softly.

Jesmyn's eyes fluttered open, shifting them to the young girl in front of her, "Yes?" she answered irritatedly.

"You've been summoned," the handmaiden informed.

Exhaling heavily, Jesmyn swung her feet to the floor and pushed herself up from the settee into a sitting position. An action her baby was not particularly fond of as they gave a sharp kick in her kidneys which caused her to suck in air and wince. Gently, Jesmyn rubbed circles on her stomach to calm her baby down before gingerly standing up.

"Am I to meet Princess Rhaenyra in her quarters?" Jesmyn asked, her hand resting on her bump.

"It wasn’t the Princess who summoned you, milady," the handmaiden corrected, making Jesmyn's eyebrow arch. "The Queen wishes to see you,"

The journey to Alicent's chambers was longer than it should have, inexplicably she began to feel nauseous with every step she took forcing her to make several stops along the way. Standing outside the Queen's private chamber door, Jesmyn squeezed her eyes closed and pushed out a deep breath.

A handmaiden opened the door, allowing her to enter the room, but Jesmyn's steps faltered when she realized Alicent was not alone. Criston was inside as well. The door shut behind her and Jesmyn curtsied to Alicent.

"My Queen—" she began, but stopped when she felt her stomach attempting to leap out of her throat. Jesmyn clamped her hand over her mouth, trying to quell the nausea.

"Oh you poor thing!" Alicent comforted, standing up from her seat and rushing towards her. "Has the voyage left you ill?" she asked, her eyes sympathetic as she helped Jesmyn to her full height from her bow before leading her to the sofa she occupied only moments before.

"It's nothing," Jesmyn reassured, watching Alicent sit back down. "I just need to lay down and this sickness will pass,” she explained.

"Then I will try to make this quick," Alicent stated, which made Jesmyn cock her head slightly. "Sit, why don't you," she suggested nervously, patting the empty cushion beside her.

"I am not fragile Alicent, honest," Jesmyn said, chuckling at her friend’s fretting.

"As you wish," Alicent said, with a nod and an uneasy smile. "I…I—how should I say this?" she questioned, but it was directed towards herself.

Jesmyn frowned at the swift change of mood from Alicent and glanced over to Criston. Briefly, he met her stare before guiltily lowering his eyes to the floor.

"Has some—"

"Rhaenyra lied to you!"

The sharpness of Alicent's interjection struck Jesmyn with icy coldness as she slowly digested her words. Jesmyn's heart faltered a beat, an invisible dagger plunging into it. A pressure on her chest.

"No…no…" she choked out in denial, slowly shaking her head back and forth.

Jesmyn's stomach suddenly twisted itself violently into a tighter knot than it had earlier. For a moment, she could feel nothing, and yet everything all at once. She couldn't speak, her body going numb, feeling light and heavy at the same time. Jesmyn was scarcely capable of forming a coherent thought. Rage, horror, sadness, and betrayal coursed through her, fighting each other for dominance.

"S-She swore on her mother's grave!" she whispered to herself. "She swore on her mother's grave!" she repeated, in near frenzy.

To remain standing any longer was a growing challenge for Jesmyn by the second, when finally her trembling legs gave out beneath her. She sank down onto the sofa, a fog clouding her mind while dizziness spun through her skull. Jesmyn's heart pounded in her ears, filling her head with noise. She couldn't hear anything outside the deafening sounds of her own breath. Otto's words from last night gradually became deafening in her head.

"Too blinded by friendship to recognize it is very the manner of how she manipulates you,"

Faintly, Jesmyn thought she heard her name, but couldn’t make out the owner of the voice saying it.

"Jesmyn?" the voice asked, somewhere in the distance

Suddenly, a pair of hands, that were soft yet firm, grasped her own. They forced Jesmyn from her daze, causing her eyes to snap up to meet Alicent's.

"Rhaenyra wouldn't do that to me," Jesmyn said, her voice hoarse and sounding nothing like her own. "I—I value our friendship so dearly, I went against my own beloved husband," she continued airily, still feeling far, far away from her body.

"It's true, Jesmyn," Alicent reaffirmed, squeezing her hands. "She lied to you, to us," she shifted her stare to Criston. "Tell her Ser Criston," she demanded.

"Lady Hightower, it was I who laid with Princess Rhaenyra that night," Criston confessed, looking down in shame.

Jesmyn swallowed Criston's confession bitterly, "She told the truth, on a technicality," she said, inhaling a deep breath and shuddering slightly. "Daemon didn't fuck her in that pleasure house, but it was you who took her maidenhood?"

"Yes, My Lady,"

A gasping, broken sob reverberated in the air, "W-What have I done? My marriage is in…ruins ….and for what? Jesmyn wondered, her voice wavering as her words came out in short breaths. "I–I need to write Otto, I—" she went on, until her stomach lurched suddenly and Jesmyn gasped. "I think I'm going to be sick,"

Swiftly, a chamberpot was held out in front of her which Jesmyn snatched into her grasp before hurling into it, spewing out her meal from earlier in the morning. She remained in the same position for a while, still retching.

"Thank the gods, a servant just cleaned that and left it here," Alicent commented, rubbing Jesmyn’s back.

Raising her face from the chamberpot, Jesmyn's stomach twisted uncomfortably at the sight of the contents within the pot. Gingerly, she placed the pot down onto the table, fearing that she'd throw up again if she stared at it too long.

"Alicent, I'm so sorry you had to bear witness to that," Jesmyn quavered, reclining against the sofa and clutching her stomach. "You as well, Sir Criston," she added, looking over to him.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Alicent stated.

"I must go," Jesmyn announced shakily, dabbing the corners of her mouth with the inside of her wrist. "Arrangements need to be made," she informed, standing up.

The abrupt movement caused stars to dance in front of her eyes. Jesmyn’s hand shot out to grip the back of the sofa chair to steady herself, feeling her heart rate speed up.

"Jesmyn?"

She waved her hand dismissively, "I'm fine," Jesmyn assured, with a tight smile despite exhaustion creeping over her.

"Are you sure, Lady Hightower?" Criston questioned.

"I said I’m fine Sir Criston!" Jesmyn repeated sharply, releasing her grip from the couch and righting herself.

Taking a few steps forward, Jesmyn felt herself sway on her feet while her sight became strangely blurred. She blinked in rapid succession, blood pounding wildly in her ears and drowning out all sounds around her. Unsteadily, she moved forward again, however this time Jesmyn could no longer feel the floor beneath her feet. The room began to spin right before Jesmyn's eyes, rendering her sense of direction completely null. Darkness crept around the edges of her blurred vision, forcing her to close her eyes and orient herself. It was a misguided action to take.

Once her eyes shut, her knees buckled beneath her sending her collapsing to the floor.

~~~x~~~

Jesmyn awoke with a start, her eyes snapping open as a startled gasp escaped her. Wildly, her eyes darted around in confusion and panic as she took in her surroundings. A few seconds passed before Jesmyn realized she was in her bed within her new quarters, safe. Squeezing her eyes shut, Jesmyn exhaled heavily and rubbed her hand over her eyes. When she reopened her eyes, Alicent stood just inches away from the foot of her bed.

"Gods!" Jesmyn exclaimed, her body jolting with fright.

"Apologies, I didn't intend to scare you," Alicent said gently. "I heard rustling from within here, and came to check on you," she explained.

Carefully, Jesmyn pushed herself up from the bed and leaned back against the headboard.

"What happened?" Jesmyn asked, blinking and rubbing her eyes once more.

"You fainted," Alicent answered, looking over her in concern. "It all happened so quickly, you were unsteady on your feet, then you just crumbled to the floor. I don’t know what was worse, seeing you collapse or hearing it. Scared Ser Criston and I to death,"

Jesmyn's hand shot down to her stomach, "My baby—""

"Is just fine," Alicent cut in reassuringly. "Maester Mellos assured me as much," she answered, causing Jesmyn to let a sigh of relief. "How are you feeling now?" Alicent questioned.

"A bit dizzy, still," Jesmyn replied, turning her head to look out the window to see the sun was beginning to set. "I could only imagine what your father would say if he witnessed my fainting spell," she remarked, a small grin creeping on her lips.

"Probably forbid you from ever leaving the bed and have you waited on hand and foot" she joked, and the girls shared a laugh with each other.

Jesmyn faced Alicent again, "By the Seven, Otto's fussing over could be unbearable, but now that he’s no longer at court with me, I'll miss it more than I thought possible," she admitted, her mood turning solemn and dropping her stare down at her hands.

"And it's my fault," she thought.

A frown creased her forehead, "Has she heard about the incident, the princess?" Jesmyn spat out, disdain dripping from each word.

"She has, but I had a handmaiden to relay the message that you are not to be disturbed, maester’s orders," Alicent answered, with a half smirk.

"Good," Jesmyn said, nodding to herself. "I don't know how I will bring myself to assist Rhaenyra with all the festivities for her wedding this week, let alone, the opening feast tomorrow," she commented, her eyes narrowing.

"So don't," Alicent responded simply, making Jesmyn raise her head in shock.

"What do you mean, don't?" Jesmyn repeated, brows furrowing.

Alicent moved to stand by her bedside, "We'll discuss it further tomorrow, when you're better," she said, bending down to give a quick peck on Jesmyn's cheek.

~~~x~~~

Lords and Ladies from every corner of the Seven Kingdoms flocked to King's Landing to celebrate the wedding of the two most powerful Houses in Westeros, the Targaryens and the Velaryons. The joyous festivities commenced with a grand feast, promising a night full of dancing, drinking, and merriment. However, these feelings were not shared by all.

In silence, two young women walked the halls of the Red Keep side by side. For Jesmyn, everything was numb and nothing felt real. She walked daze like through the halls, following the noises from the throne room. Almost a decade long of friendship and good will, gone within a blink of an eye. All from one, little half lie. A lie which Rhaenyra allowed to leave her lips effortlessly.

"The ceremony is beginning," Alicent noted, rousing Jesmyn from her stupor.

Standing in front of throne room, Jesmyn could hear Viserys' echoing voice behind the massive doors.

She looked to Alicent, "We've discussed this for hours on end, but now that the moment's here I find myself rather nervous," Jesmyn admitted.

"Don't be," Alicent insisted, turning to face Jesmyn. "Princess Rhaenyra has made it crystal clear where her loyalties lie," she reminded, her eyes hardening. "It's time we do the same," she declared quietly.

Jesmyn glanced down to both of their gowns they donned for the evening, green like the beacon of Hightower.

"We will certainly turn heads that's for sure," Jesmyn stated, a slight chuckle escaping her.

"Head high," Alicent ordered gently, using her finger to lightly lift up Jesmyn's chin. "What are we?" Alicent questioned, allowing a small grin to form on her lips.

"We're Hightower women," Jesmyn answered confidently, with a smirk.

"And what do we do?"

"We light the way,"

Holding each other's stare, Alicent and Jesmyn nodded their heads in unison.

"Shall we?" Jesmyn asked, holding her arm out.

"With pleasure," Alicent responded confidently, linking her arm with Jesmyn's. "Open the doors!" she demanded, staring ahead at the guards.

With a low creak, Jesmyn could see a sliver of the throne room and at the center of it stood Viserys, still giving his speech.

"Reaching back to the old days of Old Valyria and the Age of Dragons. With House Targaryen and H-" Viserys cut himself off mid sentence, as the sound of the doors opening drew his attention ahead.

Every courtier followed his gaze to the doors where Alicent and Jesmyn stood arm in arm. Instantly, murmurs filled the room as everyone rose to their feet, Hightower being one of the first houses to do so. The two of them were the essence of grace as they made their way deeper into the hall. Jesmyn dared glance in Rhaenyra's direction to see her subtly horrified expression, Jesmyn told a lie of her own this day; that she was too unwell to assist and attend the feast tonight. When truthfully, she wished to be as far away as possible from the princess. Jesmyn kept her face neutral. Her eyes were detached, scornful, but she was more composed than she had been for the past 48 hours, albeit without her typical jovialness.

Jesmyn passed her family's table, catching the stares of her family members. Curiosity was in all their eyes, they were well aware how close Jesmyn had been with Rhaenyra. So, for her to be making such a bold move with Alicent, who was draped in Hightower green they knew something must of went down. Jesmyn met her parent's stare, silently telling them, we'll speak later.

Approaching the Hightower table, Jesmyn smoothly removed her arm from Alicent's and seemingly glided over to where Hobert stood. A proud smirk on his lips, Hobert bows his heads to Alicent along with several members of the table. To Jesmyn's surprise, her good brother extended this gesture towards her as well which she happily returned.

"Hobert," Jesmyn greeted quietly.

"Good sister," he responded, extending his hand out to help her sit.

Once Alicent was seated at the table, Viserys began to resume his speech which Jesmyn and Alicent had interrupted with their dramatic entrance, but it was apparent he could not remember where he had left off. It wasn’t until Lord Lyonel Strong slightly leaned over to Viserys that he remembered his train of thought.

"With House Targaryen and House Velaryon united," Viserys continued, "I hope to herald a second Age of Dragons in Westeros," he proclaimed, which received applause along with some banging on the tables. "And after tonight's small affair," he joked, causing laughter to echo in the room. "Seven days of tournament and feasting – and at the end of it all – a royal wedding between my daughter and Ser Laenor Velaryon, the heir to Driftmark,"

Applause thundered across the hall once more and shortly thereafter, Rhaenyra and Laenor's first dance followed. All eyes were glued the couple as the beating of drums echoed in the hall, taking Rhaenyra's outstretched hand Laenor began their dance with one another.

"Good brother," Jesmyn called lowly, and Hobert shifted his attention to her. "Might you have room for a wheelhouse of three on the trip back home?" she asked curiously.

"Don't you mean four, good sister?" he corrected softly, with a small grin which Jesmyn shared.

When the dance was finished, lords and ladies flocked to the dance floor to join in with the dancing as well. Meanwhile, Jesmyn was on her feet to mainly stretch her legs, but it quickly turned into Hobert proudly showing her off to the rest of the Hightower's at their table.

"There's another son of Oldtown growing within her, I'm confident!" Hobert exclaimed, beaming happily at the thought.

In the most bizarre turn of events, Hobert's and Jesmyn's relationship had actually blossomed due to the birth of the twins. The way the older man incessantly pestered her about having children, people would think she was married to him and not his younger brother. Looking back now, Jesmyn realized all he truly wanted was nieces and nephews to spoil, but gods above, he could've been so less cruel about it.

She laughed, "My stomach is hanging low," Jesmyn remarked, holding the bump.

"No, it’s going to be a girl this time around!" a female cousin disagreed, eyes gleaming at the thought. "Twin girls!" she added excitedly.

"Otto would faint," Jesmyn replied, another laughing bubbling out of her.

"Yes, and he wouldn't be the only one," Hobert stated humorously.

A chorus of laughter rang out from the Hightower table and from the corner of her eye, Jesmyn saw Alicent approaching them. For the first time that night, Jesmyn saw a genuine smile on Alicent's face as she walked towards her uncle. Bowing before her, Hobert lightly grasped her arms and bore a proud grin once more.

"Thank you for coming, uncle," Alicent said, happily greeting him.

"I worried that given leave of your father's shadow, you might wither in King's Landing's sun. But, I see that you stand tall. Know that Oldtown stands with you," Hobert declared, and Alicent with nodded a tiny smirk at his words. "I see you even managed to talk some sense into Jesmyn about returning home," he mentioned, making the vein Jesmyn's forehead throb.

"Oh, I didn’t—"

"Hobert, I was just beginning to grow fond of you, until now," Jesmyn bantered, but also was half serious.

"My daughter jests, she was taught to never hold grudges," Lord Clarick stated, from behind her.

"Wait until I tell you about the antics Rhaenyra's been up to recently, that will surely make you rethink that lesson," Jesmyn thought.

She spun around, "Father!" Jesmyn greeted happily, walking towards him with her arms outstretched.

Grinning, Lord Clarick brings her into a careful hug feeling her growing belly against him.

"It's good to see you on your feet, Jesmyn. The Queen told me that you collapsed yesterday," Lord Clarick said, with a small frown as he took a hold of her hands.

"I'm fine Father, a combination of tiredness and a little nausea from traveling to Driftmark and back," Jesmyn lied, squeezing his hands to reassure him.

"Speaking of The Queen," he began, his voice dropping so only she could hear him. "What was—"

Suddenly, screams pierced the air in the hall, causing Jesmyn to flinch before whipping her head to the dance floor.

She stepped away from Lord Clarick, "What’s going on?" Jesmyn asked, panic in her question.

Then, the crowd started scattering like rats from the area where scream originated and the throne room was plunged into absolute chaos. Bumping and shoving quickly ensued as the mass attempt by courtiers to run toward the exit led to people being trampled on. Jesmyn was just barely able to react in time to protect herself and her baby. With the crowd jostling around her, she was pushed further and further away from her father and Hobert. Frantically looking around through the sea of bodies, she managed to catch the eyes of Hobert who was next to a younger Hightower cousin.

"Hobert!" Jesmyn screamed, terror in her eyes as she protectively pressed her arm against her stomach.

Hobert looked at the young man and pointed to her, immediately he fought his way over to her. Strong arming his way through, he scooped her up as if she was light as a feather and began carrying her to safety. Jesmyn searched the crowd from her new vantage point, still trying to determine what caused all this, but even from the shoulders of her cousin, she couldn't see.

However, despite the madness that enveloped the throne room, a single thought arose in Jesmyn's mind, pushing out all others.

"This disastrous wedding is nothing less than what Rhaenyra deserves,"

~~~x~~~

A few days later

Servants hurried about to and from, carrying trunks of various sizes to the many wheelhouses that lined the courtyard of the Red Keep. At the center of this tempest activity stood Jesmyn, being seen off by two members of the royal family.

"I do wish you would stay, but I think being among family and friends in Oldtown will do well for you and the babe," Alicent said, a smile gracing her features. "And the little ones too," she added, giving Vanesha's button nose a playful squeeze.

Squealing in laughter, Vanesha squirmed around in her older sister's arms.

"I couldn’t agree more, my Queen," Jesmyn responded, mirroring Alicent's expression. "It's been too long since I been in Oldtown. Despite our quarrel, I know having the twins home will bring your father the much needed joy after everything that has transpired," she commented, as Alicent handed Vanesha off to the waiting handmaiden to take her.

"You'll write me the moment you're safely inside Hightower, yes?" Alicent questioned earnestly.

"Was there ever a doubt?" Jesmyn asked back humorously. Her eyes slid to Criston, who stood protectively next to Alicent's side. "Ser Criston, I trust you will look after our Queen with my departure? True friends are so difficult to find in these times," she mentioned.

Criston bowed his head, "You have my word, Lady Hightower," he promised, a ghost of smirk on his face.

With a smile, Jesmyn moved away from Alicent and Criston and towards Rhaenyra who stood with her new sworn shield, Harwin Strong. Sauntering purposefully over to the princess, the pebbles in courtyard crunched underneath Jesmyn's shoes. Even with the flurry of activity around them, the strident noise pierced the air in the otherwise noisy courtyard.

Standing in front Rhaenyra, Jesmyn had gone from cheerful to stoic in a split second.

"Princess Rhaenyra," Jesmyn greeted curtly, curtsying to her.

"It pains me to see you go. I was so looking forward to our spent together as my lady in waiting Jesmyn," Rhaenyra said diplomatically, and Jesmyn involuntarily quirked an eyebrow at the use of her name.

"Yes, well, after having some time to reconsider my decision following that nasty business that occurred at your wedding feast, I've come to realize something," Jesmyn stated, peering down at Rhaenyra with an expressionless stare. "Without my Lord Husband, I find King's Landing an ill-suited environment to raise my children, so many unsavory characters here at court. It would be ashamed if they were tainted by proximity," she asserted, her eyes boring into Rhaenyra's who subtly shrank underneath their gaze.

Jesmyn let Rhaenyra suffer under her withering stare a few seconds longer before clearing her throat and removing her arms from underneath her cloak. In her hands, Jesmyn held an object slightly larger than both of her palms put together.

"I do have a gift for you though, Princess Rhaenyra," Jesmyn informed, keeping the object face down. "Something for you to remember me by in my absence here," she finished, finally the presenting the gift to Rhaenyra.

With its face up, Jesmyn held the finished embroidery of the High Tower of Oldtown, its beacon lit.

#otto hightower x reader #black!reader #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon fanfiction #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones fanfiction #games of thrones oc #otto hightower x oc #hotd x reader #got x reader #black fanfiction

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catscidr · 9 months

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natural remedy

cw: written in the third person, childe being slightly obsessive and weird, fluff and comfort to an extent. allusions to previous self-harm but nothing graphic, nonsexual intimacy includes: gn!reader, childe wc: 2,7k a/n: i wrote this a couple of months ago when i was sick and delirious and was just craving a strong russian bf (childe) to take care of me(༎ຶ⌑༎ຶ) ssoooo if this reads weird it's because i couldn't rly process my own thoughts when i wrote it out LOL. i fixed it up as best as i could but i dont wanna spend my time rewriting 5 whole pages...... posting this and then going through my inbox and Not answering asks in third person

Equipped with a backpack full of various sized logs, some berries he had managed to scavenge and a dead hare that he held by the scruff of its neck, the young man tossed his blade away, the weapon dissipating in the air as mist. Though the wind nipped at the small bits of skin he left exposed through his winter garbs, it was still enough to leave him shivering- even if he was used to the harsh winters of his homeland. The redhead had the misfortune to get caught in a scuffle with a wandering man and, though he usually reveled in any opportunity to get his hands bloody, this time he couldn’t allow himself to enjoy the bloodshed.

With his breath creating small clouds of air in front of his face and droplets of blood drying on his coat, Tartaglia had only one thing on his mind; to get back to the cabin as soon as he could. The sun was setting at a rapid pace- he looked up at the beautiful, hazy orange and pink sky and scoffed. He was still about half a mile away from the secluded cabin. He couldn’t spare any more time away from it and, with a determined scowl, picked up the pace of his strides.

Murmuring under his breath, the young man keeps on trudging through the thick snow as light began to grow sparser. All he could see was snow, dead trees and old, dried blood on top of the crystal white sheet covering the ground. Tartaglia readjusts the backpack on his back, making the straps around his torso tighter and continues his journey with an empty, quiet mind. Usually, he would walk the other way and seek out some more poor souls to fight in the tundra forest and even hunt for some more animals to bring back to his abode like a trophy, but the knowledge that his beloved was alone, ill and hungry wouldn’t let him rest and enjoy the joys of his crazed mind for even a moment.

He leaves a trail of prickles of blood behind him as he walks sluggishly through the snow. It would soon be covered by even more snow, as the snowstorm went on. Clutching onto the dead hare tightly, Tartaglia holds back the urge to mutilate the animal out of anger. Or was it frustration, or even maybe desperation? Bitterness?

No, nothing of the sort. All Tartaglia felt was a mix of disheartenment, defeat, and in some way even failure. It had been three days and his beloved’s physical state wasn’t getting any better- what was there left to do? He tried all of his mother’s home remedies that he remembered and yet they would stay bedridden, struggling to even lift their spoon up to their face to drink the warm, soothing broth. He felt powerless, like all there was left to do was to watch them wither away. It felt like the forest was closing in on him, the trees seeming taller and thicker the more he made his way through the storm. He shuddered, a shaky sigh leaving his chapped lips.

With a trembling hand he lifted his red scarf high enough to cover his nose, and tried to focus on getting home.

✧✧✧

“I’m back!” he shouts as soon as he opens the door of the cabin, doorknob hitting the wall roughly from the harsh winds whipping into the abode. Using his foot, he swiftly closes it and takes off his thick hat, soft snow falling on the wooden floorboards of the entrance. After a few moments of tinkering with the straps of the backpack, it drops to the floor with a thud and Tartaglia takes off his large boots, tossing them aside. He heads into the small kitchen area, placing the- now practically frozen- dead hare on the counter and then heads into the doorway, grabbing the backpack with a huff.

“Darling?” Tartaglia calls out, glancing at the closed door at the end of the hallway. He pauses, awaiting an answer. A million thoughts were floating in his head- was his beloved alright? Did they try to get out of bed and accidentally hit their head? They were most likely just asleep... but what if they got out and he didn’t notice because their footprints got covered by the snowfall? Were they stuck outside, cold and hungry, slowly dying as life faded from their frail body-

“Welcome back,” he hears a quiet voice say after a few seconds, right when he was about to shout again and make a beeline for the bedroom. Sighing from relief, the ginger runs a hand through his hair and grabs a handful of logs from the backpack and tosses them near the fireplace to fuel later.

He opens the bedroom door softly, peeking in at first before opening it fully, revealing the huddled form of his beloved in the blankets of their shared bed.

“How are you feeling?” the ginger asks softly, crouching to their level to brush away a few strands of hair that had fallen over their forehead. They groan, shifting to uncover their mouth from the large duvet- even just a motion as small and insignificant as moving their head was strenuous.

“Gross,” they say, voice hoarse. Tartaglia frowns but doesn’t move from his crouched position as he takes off one of his gloves, placing the back of his hand on their forehead. His brows furrow, displeasure clear on his face.

“You’re still burning up,” the ginger murmurs back. “And you’re sweating now. Have you taken your medication?” he asks.

He had been gone since early in the morning, having left to gather materials to sustain them for a bit longer while they both recuperated in the cabin. Although he wasn’t gone too long, Tartaglia had developed a habit of being overly protective of his beloved in the past few weeks. If they weren’t going to take care of themselves then he would do it for them- the fact that they got sick only further drove him to being as overbearing as he was now, so he wasn’t in the wrong for it.

“I’m too tired,” they slur, whining as they bury their face in the plush blanket once more. The fabric touching them made their skin crawl but as the uncomfortable feeling passed, they sighed contentedly.

Tartaglia clicks his tongue, displeased that they were being so uncooperative. But that wasn’t exactly unexpected- so he stands up and holds onto the corner of the blanket coddling the body in the bed below him and rips it off harshly. A startled whimper leaves their lips, and they immediately curl into themselves to preserve their (unregulated) body heat.

“You need to shower,” the ginger says with an unreadable gaze, his cerulean eyes scanning his darling’s body like a security camera would an intruder. “You sweat through the bed sheets and your shirt is sticking to your skin. Have you even gotten out of the room since I left?” he asks with a tilt of his head, seemingly not paying attention to the way his darling shivered and squirmed. They respond with a meek shake of their head, face buried in the pillow as they quiver uncomfortably because of how cold the air is in the cabin. The man says nothing in response, instead deciding to toss the duvet to the edge of the bed as he slips his arms beneath his lover’s shivering form, picking them up off the bed.

“It's good that you’re sweating your sickness away, but you still need to be clean.” he says tenderly, bringing them to the bathroom in a bridal carry. They tuck their face into the crook of Tartaglia’s neck, desperately trying to regulate their body heat- to no avail. The movement of the redhead walking was enough to bring his darling discomfort, making their skin tingle unpleasantly. Dazed and lightheaded, they don’t notice him shutting the door with his foot as he steps through the threshold of the bathroom.

Tartaglia carefully sets them down on the edge of the sink’s counter, his hands lingering against their skin for a moment.

“Strip. Your cold is gonna get worse if you stay in those sweaty clothes,” he says, bringing one hand up to stroke their hair. With a huff, they shake their head slowly, eyes cast downwards. Tartaglia frowns, sliding the hand that was in their hair down to their chin to lift their head up. The movement makes them grunt in discomfort, skin prickling unpleasantly. He sighs, heart clenching at the sight of his beloved in such a sorry state.

“I’ll run a bath for you, it’ll be nice and warm. You’ll feel much better when you get out, so just cooperate for me, yeah?” he says softly, though his brows crease in frustration that only ignited within him because he was just so worried for them. Reluctantly, they give in and nod, earning a kiss on the cheek from Tartaglia. He smiles, soft lips lingering on their skin for a second too long before turning around, crouching to turn on the bath’s tap.

The sound echoes in the bathroom, loud and overwhelming for the poor sick individual, shaky hands coming up to cover their ears. Tartaglia, still focused on trying to get the bath to be warm enough to be comforting but not too much that it’ll burn his lover, stays oblivious to the distress they were silently enduring.

When finally satisfied, he swivels around to pay attention to his darling, his calloused hands coming up to take their smaller ones away from their ears. “C’mon,” he murmured. “I’ll help you out of your clothes.”

Too weak to argue they simply nod, raising their arms as best as they could while Tartaglia grabs the hem of their shirt and lifts it up over their head. The fabric catches onto their arms, inducing in a sharp hiss from the sick individual, and Tartaglia mumbles a soft apology as he frees them from their sweaty top. The redhead notices them shivering ever so slightly; he wraps an arm around their shoulder, gently bringing them down off the counter to slip their shorts off.

“Step out of them for me,” he says quietly. Taking a wobbly step, they do just that while holding onto Tartaglia for support. He smiles, satisfied, and carefully guides them to the bath.

“I’m going to take off your underwear now, that alright?” Tartaglia asks for courtesy’s sake, holding their hand tenderly. They squeak out a quiet yeah and, without wanting to keep them out of the comfort of the bath, he rids them of their undergarments and helps them into the warm water as quickly as he can without putting too much strain on their body.

Now sat in the small porcelain tub, his beloved sighs contentedly, head leaning back to relax the strain on their weak muscles, comforting warmth engulfing their tired body. Tartaglia smiles at the sight; he quietly gets up to grab a wash rag and a bar of soap to help get his darling clean. Sitting on the floor next to the bath, he gazes at his lover’s closed eyes, love pouring out of his being. A few minutes pass of this- of Tartaglia carefully observing the peaceful expression on their face- before he speaks up again.

“Sit up, I’m going to start washing you now.” he says sternly, voice laced with concern. They shake their head stubbornly, too comfortable to move. “Baby...” he drawls, raising a brow at the attitude. “C’mon. Work with me here? Please?” he asks, lip jutting out in a pout as he watches his dear begrudgingly sit up, wincing at their muscles working overtime to do so. He smiles at that and gets the rag wet, lathering it with soap. “Thank you,” he murmurs softly, massaging their shoulders, suds beginning to form on their arm.

The redhead brings the rag down, down until he reaches their forearm which, thankfully, was out of the water without him having to ask. He sighs quietly, carefully running the washrag over the textured skin, thumb brushing over it in soothing motions.

“Feeling better?” he asks, peeling his eyes away from their arm back to their face. His eyes meet theirs, and he notices an almost disconnected expression on his lover’s face. But they nod slowly, exhaustion clear on their face though still lucid and aware enough of their surroundings. His smile falters slightly at their tired face, his hand coming down to hold theirs. Tartaglia rubs his thumb along their skin, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to their temple.

“That’s good,” he murmurs. “Can you turn around for me? I need to wash your other side,” he asks gently. Without answering verbally, they do as he asks and painstakingly turn their body, water sloshing lightly in the bathtub. The sight almost reminded Tartaglia of a newborn deer wobbling over constantly, except this time his darling was the doe. Grabbing the washcloth again, he scrubs away at their skin to get them clean and comfortable again, cloth washing away the bad bacteria. He carefully scrubs their chest, not letting his hands linger for longer than they need to.

“All done with your upper body. Could you sit on the edge of the bath, sweetheart?” Tartaglia asks just as patiently as before.

He scrubs their lower body clean, mindful of where he touched as he finally got their body clean of sweat.

“All clean, baby. Want to wash your hair too?” he asks gently, his hand lightly pushing any hair that had fallen over his beloved’s forehead. They lean into his touch, brows furrowing ever so slightly.

“No,” they respond quietly. “Can I just go back to bed?” they ask meekly, voice hoarse. Tartaglia disapproves but doesn’t argue, understanding how draining it must have been to take a bath. He leaves their side to grab a plush towel, helping them up as he wraps it around their tired body. A sigh escapes their lips as their arms hold onto the towel as best as they could to preserve warmth. Tartaglia chuckles at the cute sight, patting their head fondly.

“You can stand now, that’s good. Let’s go to the bedroom and I’ll help you get dressed, then you can sleep some more.” he says, wrapping an arm around their shoulders to help them walk should the need arise. Thankfully, they both make it to the bedroom in one piece, however Tartaglia’s beloved almost collapses on the bed, strength leaving them from walking and straining their tired muscles. Tartaglia helps them sit down, pulling the towel away as he dries them properly.

He comes back shortly after, holding a pair of underwear and one of his tee shirts. “Lift up your arms,” he says gently, pulling the shirt over their head, a shudder wracking their body as they feel the texture of the fabric brush against their bare skin. He pays no mind to it, instead helping them put on their underwear as casually and quickly as he could. When that’s done, he tosses the towel to the side and places his hands on their arms, looking down at his lover with a tender gaze.

Tartaglia doesn’t speak for a while, lost in his thoughts.

“Sure you don’t want to eat something? You must be hungry,” he says, trying to subtly persuade them to eat. They shake their head, declining, and he has to hold back the urge to sigh. He was just so damn worried- why couldn’t they let him do this for them? But he shakes those thoughts away, focusing on making them comfortable.

His beloved lays down on the bed with a quiet oof, curling in on themselves to warm themselves up. Tartaglia notices and quickly lays down in front of them, manhandling them just enough to move their position so he can hold them on the side while still able to look at them. They curl themselves against him, nuzzling themselves under his neck for warmth. He chuckles, light and airy, before pulling the sheets up over their body and tangling his legs with theirs, bringing his free hand down to caress their arm. Slowly and carefully, the redhead brings their inner wrist up to his face, kissing it softly. He hums, content, and closes his eyes.

“Goodnight love,” he says quietly, lowering their arm to a comfortable position between them and leaning forward to kiss their forehead gently as they both drift off.

#idk why i wrote this in third person i think i was a little Too out of it when i typed this out help #childe x reader #childe x you #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x you #childe x gn reader #tartaglia x gn reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #୧ ‧₊˚cat's work!

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eneablack · 9 months

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I channeled one of my spirit guides

We talked for around 2 hours and I tried doing automatic writing for the first time so some things might be wrong or not really accurate but I feel like most things are actually true. Also I couldn’t translate well what he said so this will feel very superficial lol.

I will write all that he told me.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🎐 ⋅ INTRO

His name is Mars and he is 3704 years old, he’s an angel-alien born in the constellation of Lyra.

He has curly blond hair, blue eyes and freckles like in the pics above, and has big white wings with blue tips.

He’s diligent, calm, caring, clear, correct. He gives big Enfj vibes. His presence is very calming, comforting and warm.

His corrispondent animal is a Hare and his color is Cobalt blue. A song he likes is “Hand over hand, by Roland Faunte”, and a movie he likes is “The fault in our stars”.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🎐 ⋅ HIS HELP

He’s here to help me find peace of mind and tranquility, he recommended to meditate daily and do overall breath work.

“You have to trust yourself because if not you won’t ever be able to do it, I’m not sure if you’re aware but I believe in you and you have to trust, leave all the worries okay? We are here and we won’t leave you. This means that we won’t abandon you and you’re never alone so you can calm down.”

-What about calming the mind?

“Breathing and releasing of stress in the body, try doing astral projection visualings yourself in water, and let go. Drink some tea and cover yourself up. Release tension and do yoga nidra.”

-About manifestation?

“Look at your vision board daily and trust that it is coming to you. Again, release stress because it is important.” Method that I should do? “Two cups method.”

-What about my life?

“Think of yourself and not for others, let yourself go and live in the moment minute by minute, carpe diem, believe in yourself and trust in the unpredictability because everything has a meaning and nothings is senseless. For your social anxiety don’t focus on what others might think, instead lift your chin up and walk proud of yourself, try to work on your confidence so work on yourself overall. For your anxiety in general leave the grip and try balancing your breath work. don’t criticise yourself, instead be proud of the little things, you can do it. To be more independent start by letting go of all the weights of the world around.”

- About shifting?

“Visualise while doing SATS, don’t overcomplicate it or stress yourself, trust the process because you can do it again, you’re not inferior to anything so don’t put yourself down. When you visualise let the images come by themselves. Ask yourself questions to do some introspection, to know yourself better and understand your readings and goals. Again, believe in yourself and trust the process.”

୧ ‧₊˚ 🎐 ⋅ OTHER

He is not a total “good energy”, he’s a balance of everything, just like all the rest of things in the universe.

“All is infinite, criticism hides humans from all wise known, all of you are stuck and blocked out of your spirituality but you can work on it with effort and persistence. Go out in the nature, breath and hold stones in your hands. Grounding is essential. You’re all celestial beings, and actually you’re inhuman, you distanced yourself from nature and this is not normal for you, you’re not destined to this so you have to lift to another hugged dimension. We all are here for you, you just have to reach out and meditate, meditate, and meditate. Only this way you can lift higher and reach your true nature.”

#spirit guides #channeling #reality shifting #shifting realities #shifting #manifestation #loa #loassumption #loa blog #neville goddard #guardian angel #aliens #starseed

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riddle-me-ri · 1 year

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a/n: PHEW okay so here's one of two 4k commissions I was working on. And it's for my very amazing friend @mischievous-marchie (tagging the NSFW blog because this is so NSFW lmao) Marchie, thank you so much for supporting my writing and trusting me with your main man Jervis, and all his variations. I hope I did your sweet idea justice and thanks so much again for supporting me by commissioning me. It means the world. And I hope everyone else gets to enjoy it too.

*Also reader is referred to as the March Hare cause Alice is overrated, The Hare was always my favorite and...yeah it's its for March lol

Content Warning: explicit sexual content, masturbation, sex toy, mutual masturbation, unprotected sexual intercourse (gn so no specific genitalia mentioned), caught in the act, and making out.

Word Count: 4.5 k

General Mad Hatter x Reader - Call Out My Name

Your fingers drummed along the hardback cover of a novel you were trying to read. Soon the tapping of your fingers migrated to your foot on the floor.

You groaned in frustration.

You grew restless with boredom.

Even the white noise of some random show that played on TV began to become silencing…just an echo of how lonely and dim it was when he wasn’t around.

You sighed, finally surrendering and putting the book down on the coffee table.

Why did Jervis have to be in Arkham?

You knew why, because if one of you was to get caught by Batman… Jervis ensured it was only going to be him every time. Jervis always made sure you had an escape, even if you didn’t know he had one for you.

“Arkham is no place for lovely people, my dear.” He explained once in a moment of lucidity. “I take it as a chance to reconvene my thoughts and even get to visit old friends.” He chuckled before he continued. “So don’t worry about me, dear…Although don’t forget about me either…please.”

Your heart panged the same way it did the day he told you that. He didn’t have to worry about you ever forgetting him.

You could never forget about the man you have loved and continue to love feverishly since day one.

If he only knew, sometimes you wished he would just miraculously figure it out. Then maybe, just maybe, he would be compelled to reveal his feelings…if he had any for you that is.

It felt like he did anyhow, the way he’d protect you from Batman, how he always somehow made time to see you or include you in everything.

You two have been companions for quite awhile. Jervis has always been charming, kind, and fun. He always made you smile, even on days when you didn’t feel like rolling out of bed.

You tried your best to always be there for him.

During his highs and lows, his madness and his lucidity, for everything. In turn, Jervis is always there for you when you need him in any capacity (except when he was locked up, which he always felt guilty for leaving you.)

You two were inseparable.

The Mad Hatter and The March Hare at the Mad Tea Party–only missing a sleepy Dormouse.

Yes, a strong, loyal relationship was formed, but if only it could transition from platonic to romantic…

Of course, it didn’t help that he is exquisitely handsome in the most unconventional way that was endearing to you.

Jervis’ wide bright eyes, cute elongated buck teeth, raggedy hair, and his obtuse nose that you desperately wanted to kiss.

You sighed as you sunk yourself deeper into the couch, no doubt creating a uniquely shaped dent in the cushions from lounging there all day.

You really did miss him. All of this reminiscing probably doesn’t help either. You just couldn’t help it, just forming his image in your mind made you happier.

Perhaps…this imagining could help in another area and maybe you can salvage the boring day and turn it into a fun night.

For a moment, you were grateful that Jervis wasn’t around…

The cushions of the couch sunk against your weight as you laid back and made yourself comfortable.

You took a deep breath as your head nestled into the plush arm rest. You slowly rolled up the long graphic tee you wore, exposing your lower body.

It had been a minute since you ventured into the realms of self love in the most physical sense, but you were certain the awkwardness of the start would be well worth the pleasure in the aftermath.

Your breath hitched as your fingers fell into a decent rhythm stimulating your sex. Every nerve ending on every pore of your skin was ignited.

You decide to finally take it up a notch.

You reluctantly removed your hand to reach for the toy on the side table behind your head. You snatched up the dark blue bullet vibrator and turned it on to a low setting.

Your body jerked slightly at the vibrating sensations as you glided the toy over your chest and down your abdomen. The smooth material made you wish it was something else.

Instead of the cool smooth mechanical texture…it was rough, soft, and warm.

Instead of your hand controlling a toy, it was someone else’s hand, better yet, Jervis’ gloved fingers.

Desperately, you wished it was Jervis that stimulated your body.

It was his warm diligent hands roaming across your skin causing goosebumps to form. His hands that created delicious friction that you craved.

As the vibrator made its way closer to your sex, the setting was turned up higher and your moans became louder and more drawn out.

The vibrations added with the continued pace of your other hand on your genitals. You were a withering mess on the couch.

Your eyes tightly closed, trying like crazy to suspend reality and envision it was Jervis doing this to you.

Your moans soon turned into pants and cries. “J-Jervis…Jervis!”

As you were chasing that sweet release, as if your imaginations manifested him…

Jervis Tetch was actually a free man and was making his way to your apartment.

Jervis was absolutely beaming with excitement. Adrenaline was still pumping in his veins from his narrow escape from Arkham.

The moment he was out, he knew he had to come see you and let you know he was free! The only person that would actually be waiting for him on the other side…

He just couldn’t wait to surprise you.

Jervis missed you terribly. No one else understood him, appreciated him…genuinely liked him like you do. To say you made his heart race would be an understatement. However, he was extremely cautious and uncertain.

As much as he wanted to sweep you off your feet, hold you, kiss you…he didn’t want to risk the chance of losing you–as he has lost others.

Jervis wasn’t sure he could handle losing you in any capacity.

Hence why he always did his best to protect you when things got dodgy. Despite your stubbornness to stay by his side…something he juxtapositionally adored and lamented about you.

His gloved knuckles barely racked along your door when he heard–

“J-Jervis! Jervis!”

Jervis’ heart fell to his stomach. The adrenaline from his escape rose back up out of sheer panic for you. He quickly grabbed the doorknob and was stantly met with resistance from the locked handle.

Seeing no other option, he began backing away and braced himself with his side as he ran shoulder first into your door–

You were so lost in your motions and the fantasy in your mind that you didn’t register the reality of your doorknob being rattled.

You were none the wiser to another presence until he made himself known by busting down your door.

The loud bang of the door hitting your wall woke you up from your pleasurable reverie.

Quickly, you sat up, hastily lowering your shirt back down and threw a blanket over your lower half for good measure.

You were petrified and frustrated.

“J-Jervis?” You let out in a small almost mousy voice, as you finally took in who the intruder was.

Jervis was looking around wildly, expecting some type of altercation to be happening, but quickly came to the realization nothing was awry.

In fact, you were alone, on your couch…nothing entirely out of place.

“Um…well..this is quite a predicament.” He chuckled sheepishly, as he lifted his hat to scratch at the side of his head.

You gulped down a mouthful of air as you tried to regulate your heartbeat. You began silently praying to whoever could hear that he wouldn’t put two and two together of what you were doing.

“Jervis,” you began, still trying to calm your nerves that were currently in a tailspin at the moment. “I-W-What are you–how…why did you break in?”

Your mind struggled to think of just one question, but that one seemed the most pressing. Usually, when Jervis came over he always knocked or he somehow let you know ahead of time that he was coming over.

“I-I heard you screaming my name…” He stretched his arms out exasperatedly. “I-I thought something was happening to you! It sounded all the same”

Whatever redness coalesced from your earlier activities quickly drained from your face.

“Ah…well…something was happening but nothing–bad…” You slowly began covering yourself up more with the blanket. Secretly wishing it would make you disappear.

“Yes, that much is obvious…so tell me, my dear. What was all the ruckus?”

“Um, well…I was..uh…”

“And what is that?” He interjected. Jervis pointed to a small rounded device on the ground that was still buzzing on the floor.

Jervis walked over towards where the object laid. He almost grabbed it until you grabbed his wrist.

“It’s nothing! I’ll get it! Oh sh-”

“Hare! Langua-oh…”

In your panicked leap for the toy, Jervis saw your state of dress or more like the lack thereof.

You couldn’t help but take note of how cute he looked when his face began blushing at the cheeks.

Even though yours was most likely as red as his is.

You instantly turned the toy off once it was in your grip.

As if seeing the vibrator in your hands was the final piece to the puzzle, Jervis was able to slowly put the puzzle of events together.

You were alone, on your couch, in nothing but a shirt, your skin was tinted red…you screamed his name…but not in danger or pain…

Jervis may be whimsical and mad most of the time, but he wasn’t ignorant.

You sighed as you saw him come to the conclusion of what happened. Somewhere deep down you were grateful you didn’t have to spell it out.

“I’m sorry.”

“I apologize-”

You both looked up at each other after apologizing at the same time.

“I-I didn’t mean to make you panic.” You continued, rubbing your arm.

“I didn’t mean to…ahem…ruin your fun?” He nervously chuckled as he played with his hat brim.

“It’s okay.” You reassured him softly. “I appreciate your concern.”

Jervis nodded. Of course he was concerned, he was always concerned for your safety.

“Yet…the question remains…why did you cry my name?”

Jervis had an idea why. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t guilty of the same act, but he just needed you to confirm it.

You looked away coyishly, biting your lip to keep from just dumping your emotions mixed with your explanations on him.

Jervis gulped. He really wished you didn’t do that. Although it did complete this exquisite vision of you just now.

Your hair a ruffled mess, your body gorgeously silhouetted by your shirt that only came to be just about your mid-thigh…all complimented with a cute lip bite.

You sighed. “I…I was…uh…thinking of you…while I had fun.”

Jervis took a small but sharp intake of breath. You were actually going to say it.

“Really?”

You nodded before looking away, not being able to look at him. Assuming he wanted a further explanation after a beat of silence, you continued.

“I-I’ve cared…I mean. I’ve always…” You groaned in frustration.

After taking another deep breath to reset your thoughts. You tried once more, “yes really…I’ve had feelings for you for a while and I…when you’re in Arkham…I, for a lack of better words…really miss you.”

Jervis hung onto every word like it was the last life line connecting him to the ship out in the middle of the ocean.

It was happening…it was really truly happening. Someone he loved…actually loved him back!

Jervis slowly walked over closer to where he was right in front of you. He gently curled his index finger around your chin and directed your head down to look at him.

His eyes stared softly into yours. “I missed you too, my dear.”

The sincere look he gave you, lidded eyes and a soft smile made your heart swell.

“I suppose it comes as no surprise that I, too, have had feelings for you arise.” His eyes shifted slightly, still unsure if he reciprocated correctly.

Your eyes widened, heart thumped against your chest.

All embarrassment was dissolved into surprise.

You reached to touch his hand that still propped your chin and your smile widened when you felt his fingers laced together between your own.

“If you’re saying what I think you’re saying…I’m very surprised but super happy all the same.” You giggled as your hand tightened around his.

Jervis chuckled warmly as he turned his hand so the back of your hand faced him. He gently pressed his chapped lips against your hand before smiling up at you.

"My dear, Hare, you know my way, I always mean what I say."

You were ecstatic, your body unable to keep still. To finally have everything laid out in the open. To know the one you've cherished for so long returns the sentiment.

"You do! You always do! Oh, Jervis!" You quickly slid your hand out from his grip but only to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into an excited embrace.

Jervis became nervous again. He wanted to return the hug desperately, but he wasn't sure how to keep himself composed when he actually got to feel what little you wore.

Hesitantly, to not upset you, he wrapped his arms around your waist tightly. You were so soft and warm, he tried to refrain his fingers from tugging away at the flimsy obnoxious cotton that still covered you.

You slowly brought your head back and looked back down at him. Your eyes coyly darting between his eyes and his lips. You were stuck in limbo once more, should you ask first or just go for it?

Thankfully, despite Jervis' own dilemma, he was able to catch onto yours. As if silently asking if it's what you want, he slowly brought his face closer to yours.

You gasped softly, not missing the crucial hint. You closed your eyes, slowly leaned forward, and your lips gently pressed against Jervis’.

The kiss was so soft, sweet, and even innocent in that hesitant uncertain first kiss kind of way, but it felt so right and it capsulated all your emotions in one simple gesture.

You’ve dreamt of this moment for so long. Always thought if it were to happen it would be this way or that way. However, now that it happened, every made-up scenario and sensation paled in comparison to the real thing.

Jervis was the first to slowly pull back. You couldn’t help the tiny snickers you made at the sight of him softly panting for air and his pink dusted cheeks.

Jervis perked an eyebrow at you curiously.

You shook your head, not wanting him to think he did something wrong. “Sorry, you’re just…so cute.” Your hands came up from behind his back to frame his face.

Jervis practically melted at your touch. Your touch heated his face up even more, but he didn’t mind one bit. To be touched so tenderly, and lovingly by the only person he cared about…nothing could possibly come close to the sensation.

He craved more of your touch and kiss. He yearned for your affection as the Knave of Hearts (allegedly) yearned the tarts.

Jervis couldn’t even think of a response to your compliment as he swiftly crashed his lips back into yours.

You were shocked but not displeased as you quickly kissed him back with just as much fervor.

Jervis’ breath hitched when he felt you slightly poke your tongue along the edge of his protruding tooth and his lips. He didn’t hesitate to grant you entrance to his mouth.

Your kiss became more heated as your tongues explored each other’s mouths. Jervis began exploring more of your body, slowly building confidence to feed his desire to touch more of your skin and hopefully please you.

His hands raked and grasped around your waist and hips. As well as up and down your back.

So close to that same feeling you were trying to mimic earlier in your mind.

Your kiss was broken once more, albeit simultaneously as you both fell onto the couch when your knees bent against the cushion at the sudden impact. Jervis’ own hat fell off his head but safely landed on the coffee table in front of you.

The cheesy silly predicament caused you to snicker.

Jervis hummed warmly before he slowly rose himself off of you by his hands that were on both sides of your head.

“Still enjoying yourself, I see.” He chuckled lowly.

The deep drop in his voice caused a shiver to go down your spine.

It was then you took in the truly compromising position you were in…your fantasy from earlier was slowly playing out right before your eyes.

You’ll be damned if you let it slip away.

“Yep, much more so now with you actually here.” You smiled sweetly.

“Whatever you sought in your fantasy.” He began.

Jervis leaned up to kiss your forehead. “I’d be more than happy to make a reality.”

A kiss on your cheek before looking into your eyes in earnest. “If you’ll let me.”

Any confirmation you think you could say didn’t feel strong enough, so you just leaned in to kiss him once more.

It was all the confirmation Jervis needed as he leaned into your kiss. It was all the motivation he needed as he brought his body back down to try and get closer to you.

Your back arched slightly when you felt his hands slowly crawl up your body and under your shirt.

Jervis slowly retracted his lips from yours. Only a small trail of saliva kept you two connected.

He grabbed the hem of your shirt before looking up at you, silently asking if he could remove it.

You nodded so quickly your head almost rolled off.

The moment you were free from the flimsy cotton shirt, Jervis was quick to appreciate the exposure to your body as he began kneading the skin of your chest and abdomen.

He tucked his head in between your neck and shoulder as he began leaving hot wet kisses along your jaw and neck.

“J-Jervis…” you sighed breathlessly.

Jervis’ body tensed at your voice. He brought his head back up to face you.

He gulped. “P-Please…do that again, just the same…want you to call out my name.”

You nodded, your hand reaching up to cup the side of his face. “I will, just as long as you don’t stop.”

To that Jervis grinned a grin that would put the Cheshire Cat to shame. He gave your forehead another peck. “My darling, March Hare, I wouldn’t dream of such a thing…I wouldn’t dare.”

Jervis briefly sat up and rested on his haunches as he began shucking away his suit jacket.

Already missing his close proximity, you quickly sat up and wrapped your arms around his neck while he tried to unbutton his dress shirt, but quickly gave up in exchange for holding you.

He chuckled at your enthusiasm, still deliriously delighted to have someone love him like this. As you began returning the favor with your own kisses to his neck and chest, he continued to make quick work of his trousers.

To have Jervis here with you almost as bare as you were, overwhelmed you in the best of ways.

No longer did you have to ponder what he looked like under his clothes or how he would feel against you.

He was there in reality. All there and all yours.

Jervis’ cock was hard and occasionally hit his stomach. He breathed a sigh of relief once it was free from its confines.

He gasped shortly when you lightly traced your fingers up his dick. You turned your head to look at him to make sure this was okay.

Jervis nodded before leaning in to kiss you again. A kiss that said “I love you” and “I trust you.”

You felt the sharp intake of air through Jervis’ nose as you slowly wrapped your hand around his cock and began slowly stroking it. His gloved hands dug into the folds of your body, as if trying to keep himself grounded.

Soon you felt his hand travel further down your body. Not wanting to leave his precious March Hare out, he began trying to copy the same rhythm you were going at to your own sex.

This caused you to pull back from his lips, as you began panting into the crook of his neck.

Fantasizing be damned, this was so much better than anything you could imagine or what that toy could replicate.

Yet, you wanted–needed so much more. After years of pining for Jervis, to finally have him here with you in the most passionate way imaginable. How could you not want everything? Every little bit of him he has to offer?

“Jervis–mmh…Jervis..” You moaned. Trying to form a sentence but got caught off guard by his sped up pace.

“N-Need you…please…now.” You managed to pant out.

Jervis gulped, slowing down his movements which you did too. “Are you sure?”

“Yes!” You almost whined. “Please…Jervis..”

Another shudder overtook Jervis’ body. His heart beating relentlessly against his ribcage. Jervis knows madness, but has never known a madness as passionate and pleasurable as this.

Jervis gently leaned his body against yours to slowly have you lay back down on your back with him hovering above you once again.

He brought one of his hands to his mouth and bit down on the tip of the finger sleeve of the glove, before peeling it off his hand.

As sad as you were to see the gloves go, seeing the way he bit down on the finger of the glove made you swoon.

Once his hand was free from the glove, he reached down to your core and gathered what wetness was there before proceeding to slowly push his finger into your entrance.

Despite the fun you had earlier, you were still fairly tight as you winced at his finger entering you fully.

Jervis stared at you intently, looking for any signs of discomfort and hopefully he could see signs of pleasure.

He slowly added another finger as he continued his steady pace inside you.

You appreciated the effort he went to make sure you wouldn't be uncomfortable. However, you think you were about to scream if you didn't actually have him.

You gently put your hand on his arm and squeezed. "I'm ready, Jervis…please…I need you."

Jervis doesn't think he will ever get over hearing you say that and hearing you pleading for him.

He slowly brought his fingers out and maneuvered himself to where he could line himself up to your hole.

Jervis leaned over you again with hooded eyelids before kissing you. As he kissed you, he gently pushed himself inside of you.

You both took a sharp breath between your lips at the intrusion. Jervis began peppering soft kisses all along your face, jaw, and neck. Anything to ease any sort of pain you were feeling.

You softly muttered to him you were okay and that he could start moving.

Jervis seemed unsure at the moment, but took it in stride as he slowly pulled himself out and equally as slowly pushed back in. Every time it got easier and more pleasing.

Your moans continued to egg him on, but not nearly as much as when you moaned his name.

"Jervis…mhh..Jervis!"

It made him thrust faster, kiss you harder, and squeeze your skin tighter. Soon you began crying out his name similarly to how you sounded earlier when he thought you were in danger.

He hoped that this was far better than whatever fantasy you had playing in your mind.

If he had asked you that, you would have reassured that he was far better than what you imagined.

Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck to keep his lips near yours. Your hands either clung to his hair or the thin dress shirt he still wore.

Your throat began to burn from your moans and hot pants but you didn't care. It was well worth the deep burning sensation in your gut that continued to get hotter and tighter.

"Jervis…Jerv-mmm-I-I'm close.." You managed to announce in between your sounds of continuous pleasure.

Jervis nodded, all words in the English language being lost on him at that moment. He was close too, his ball tightening every time you squeezed around him or cried out his name.

His focus was solely on you though as he began thrusting faster than before, pulling out just enough to keep the head of his dick in before thrusting back in.

It knocked the air out of you, but you didn't care. It made your legs tingle and had you see stars.

Soon the tingles in your legs soon overtook your whole body as your nerves became ignited from the delicious release from the burning tension finally boiling over inside you.

You cried out his name when you arched your hips up from your shaking legs. Your entrance tightened that much more around Jervis' cock causing him to finally come unwound inside you with an audible groan.

Jervis reluctantly pulled out of you before collapsing on top of your body. His head nestled in your chest as he tried to catch his breath.

You tried to do the same, completely at a loss for words at the moment. You brought your hand up to comb through his unruly hair, finally living out another fantasy of yours.

You lowered your head and kissed the top of his head before whispering. "That was amazing, better than any fantasy."

Jervis chuckled, but deep down he was ecstatic, he just didn't have the energy to entirely act on it.

It meant so much to know he could please you, because loving you pleased him.

He lifted his head up briefly to look at you with pure adoration in his eyes. "It was my pleasure, darling." He scooted a little forward so his lips could reach yours.

When you two broke apart your heart swelled up at the soft look he gave you. It almost felt silly to say it, the way he looked at you made it clear he felt it too, but your heart was so full you swore you were about to combust.

"I love you, Jervis." You said softly as if speaking it too loudly could break the tender moment.

Jervis' smile widened as his bright eyes softly glazed over and his eyelids got more heavy. "And I love you, my dear Hare."

You two slowly slipped into a tender slumber. Likely going to wake up sore from the nightly activities and sleeping on the couch, but it wouldn't matter.

All that mattered now was that you two had each other in a way you both desired for a long time.

All those wondrous daydreams, desires, and fantasies were finally part of your wonderful reality.

#ri writes #dc mad hatter x reader #jervis tetch x reader #general mad hatter x reader #general jervis tetch x reader #ri commissions

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inseasofgreen · 1 month

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FIND FOUR LINES TAG

I was tagged by @the-golden-comet! Thank you! You've given me a chance to share some scene's I've been excited to share! Namely tammer time lol

MY LINES: a line about love, a line about a friend, a line about an animal, and a happy line.

YOUR LINES: a line about hope, a line about the past, a line about the future, a line about food.

A LINE ABOUT LOVE

“They say the gods love tragedy, of lovers doomed from the start. What does that say about us?” A voice that was his, but words that hadn’t left his tongue. “Do you yield so quickly to fate? That you would cower in its embrace? You have come so far, and for what? To lay waste to yourself? To let a lesser man take your prize? I took you for your father’s son, and all I see is a coward. One who would rather run and hide from duty than bear its weight.” A voice so beautiful, it brought tears to his eyes. “You will never forgive me," Zemorri’s voice rang out. “I cannot forgive what I do not know, nor can I forgive what has yet to come to pass. Do or don’t, and you will never know the cost of one over the other.” Her voice grew softer. “I can’t undo the path I am on—" Zemorri was cut off. “Then you will never know what would be; the gods will delight.” Her voice was distant, like a faded memory soon to be forgotten. Zemorri shot awake in his bed, his breathing hitched. Uncontrollable sobs erupted from him, his body jerked. He loved her. He loved her without knowing the feel of her skin, the smell of her hair, the sound of her laugh; fucking hells did he love her—and that was his undoing.

A LINE ABOUT A FRIEND

The Mistress came back then, three pies in tow. Setting down the cherry pie for the youngest and the savory meat pies for the elders. “Put a little something extra in it, free of charge.” She gave them a wink before walking away to tend to the other patrons. Zemorri watched her walk away, the corners of his mouth fighting to twitch up. His nose crinkled as he let out a small snicker. “I’m scared to eat now,” Qhuriex said, his green eyes focusing on the food in front of him. “She’ll be offended," Zemorri hissed. With a sigh, the youngest took a fork and knife, cutting and rearranging. “Stop it, she’ll see." “She spit in it, or hells knows what else. If she intends to give us any luck she should’ve poisoned it.” Qhuriex pleaded with the older. “- Ugh." Ivemaar looked in dismay as Zemorri took a heaping bite of the spit-laced pie. “Really? No hesitation? No shame?” “Never. I told you I was hungry," Zemorri said, mouth full of food. Swallowing only to take in another big bite.

A LINE ABOUT AN ANIMAL tammer time

“Cyn, please. I know you have something for me; you were gone far too long.” The princess sat on the floor, sweat beading on her forehead from her session with Aeris. The oldest of her beloved cousins loved pushing them all to the point of exhaustion; be it hand-to-hand combat or magic. She called the session to a close when she saw the dash of white enter the castle walls. She reached her hand out to the winged creature hoping to distract it with scratches behind its long ears. Cyn rested his chin on the velvet cousin, allowing the affection but securing the object in his pouch. With a twitch of his nose and the sound of teeth grinding against each other, the winged hare’s eyes closed. Slowly, so very slowly, Sciosa inched her free hand closer to his underbelly. She hummed a tune, one Gaelin often sang to her when she was still young, one she no doubt sang to Cyn on his visits. Feeling the warmth of the pouch caress her fingertips, she began singing, the tammer only getting more at ease. “Away at sea Far away from thee. I call upon the mountains Oh hey, oh hee- ow! You little!” With a whip of a tail and teeth in flesh, the princess lurched back. She watched as the creature took flight and found a new place to rest, away from bothersome hands.

A HAPPY LINE

“What wisdom would she have bestowed upon me today?” she asked, knowing her father would be glad to oblige. “The crown is heavy. Every choice one makes while bearing its weight must be thoroughly thought through. All the pros and cons splayed out and every detail and outcome calculated. All in a matter of seconds.” He said the corners of his lips quirked up for a moment. “And what of you? What wisdom do you have, Father?” Sciosa freed one of her hands, brushing some of the white wisps of hair behind his ear. He thought for a moment. “It is easy to let the power go to one's head. Wearing a crown does not mean you are any different from those who bow to you. It does not give any ability that was not already there to begin with. It did not make me strong or wise. Nor will it make you humble,” he said, giving her a knowing look. She chuckled in reply, “No ruler can do it all, for that he must build a council of trusted advisors. Listen to their counsel, then act. In the same vein, remember it is you who wears the crown, not your advisors, not your consort. Your word is law.” The carriage jerked to a stop, swaying the two royals inside. Sciosa pressed a kiss to her father’s cheek, his fuzz tickling her chin.

Gently tagging @phynewrites @winterandwords @bisexual-kelsier @frostedlemonwriter @drchenquill

POTO tag list (interact here if you want to be added!!):

@lord-fallen @inkingfireplace @rhikasa @leahnardo-da-veggie

#creative writing #my writing #writeblr #writing #writing community #writers on tumblr #writing tag #p: poto #oc: sciosa #oc: zemorri #oc: qhuirex #oc: ivemaar #oc: ilyos #oc: cyn

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seiya-starsniper · 1 year

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Spoils of War - Dreamling

Rating: Explicit | Status: Complete | Chapters 1/1 | Words: 3.1K

Tags: Warprize Dream, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Human, Dubious Consent, Aphrodisiacs, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Rimming, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Hob is a caring lover but he's not above taking advantage of Dream's compromised state, dubious consent becomes full consent, after the drugs wear off

Summary:

“I’m not mad at you," Hob says, gently. He loosens his hold on Dream's scalp ever so slightly. "I’m sorry for scaring you. It’s just someone’s gone and given you something they shouldn't have, and I don’t like that. Tell me who it is, my sweet?” Dream, beautiful thing that he is, shakes his head.

Hob finds out someone's given Dream some aphrodisiacs. Naturally, he wants to help.

Dedicated to the absolutely amazing horny queen @gabessquishytum for inpisiring me with their Warprize Dream AU. Special shoutout to the 🐺 anon for the idea as well.

Edit: I have once again forgotten to tag @dreamlingbingo in my fills LOL. This fic fill square E4: Feel Soulmate's Pain, replaced by High as a kite

Read on AO3 or Read More below:

Hob knows the influence of aphrodisiacs immediately.

When he enters his bedroom he’s immediately hit by the cloying smell of sex and sweat, and the sight that greets him is so arresting it stops him in his tracks.

Dream, his prized Dream, is naked and writhing in Hob’s bed, cock gripped tight in one hand, while the other clutches desperately for purchase on the silk sheets. The man’s body is damp with sweat and…is that…

Sure enough, Hob spots a small uncapped bottle of oil sitting on the table next to the bed. Hob can see the bottle is at least half empty, and the evidence of its use is smeared in small wet spots all over the sheets near Dream’s thighs.

Hob growls, and the noise alerts Dream to his presence. He gasps, immediately letting go of his cock, and makes a poor attempt to cover himself up with his arms.

“Oh don’t stop on my account,” Hob leers, moving towards the bed in the widest strides he can manage. When he climbs onto the mattress, Hob realizes the sheets are practically soaked with Dream’s bodily fluids, and he wonders how long the other man has been at this. Dream is still staring at him like a wild hare caught in a trap, eyes wide and breath uneven.

“Oh you poor pretty thing,” Hob says, carding his fingers through Dream’s sweat soaked hair. Dream's eyes flutter shut and he moans at the touch, before seemingly returning to his senses and trying to jerk away. Hob doesn't let him. He grabs a fistful of hair and forces the other man to look at him.

Dream, beautiful thing that he is, shakes his head.

“No?” Hob asks, surprised at the other man's altruism. “You don't need to protect them, you know. They've left you at my mercy, with no relief in sight.”

Hob releases his grip on Dream's hair and drops his hand to the man's cheek instead. He brushes away a stray tear track, and Dream leans into the touch.

“And while I'd like to say I'm a pious and good king,” Hob continues, dropping his voice to a lower register, letting his arousal at Dream's predicament show. “I'm really not.”

Hob's hand moves lower and Dream groans when fingers brush and pinch at his pebbled nipples.

“In fact,” Hob says, continuing his movements downward towards Dream's beautiful leaking cock.

“I rather like you like this. Helpless.” He brushes a thumb along the tip, still slick with oil, and Dream whines. “Needy.” He squeezes the organ with just enough pressure to make Dream buck into it. “Shall I make you beg for relief, my sweet Dream?”

“Please!” Dream cries out, and Hob's eyes widen in shock. It's the first word Dream's spoken to him since he's arrived.

“Fuck,” Hob grunts, before he starts pumping at Dream’s cock in earnest. “You're really bad off, aren't you?”

Dream wails as Hob continues to stroke him. He thrusts shamelessly in Hob's hand for a few moments before his body stills and come spills across his belly.

“Christ,” Hob mutters, taking in the view of Dream’s newly debauched body. “That's a really effective drug you've been given. You still won't tell me who gave it to you?” At this point, Hob’s ready to promote whoever it is to a fucking knighthood instead of punishing them.

Dream shakes his head again. “Not important,” he replies, clearly still aroused despite coming just moments earlier. “Just don't…don't leave me alone. Please.”

Hob growls and stands, pulling at his nightclothes and practically tearing them off his body.

Dream watches him, pupils blown wide with want and hunger. His eyes drop down lower as Hob shucks his pants, releasing his cock from its confines. Hob grins when he catches Dream’s gaze.

“Like what you see, pretty thing?” Hob asks, stroking himself to full hardness.

Dream makes a slightly distressed noise when he sees just how well endowed Hob really is.

“It's…too big,” Dream gasps. “It won't…”

“Oh, it'll fit inside that pretty little arse of yours,” Hob says. “I just need to make sure I prepare you properly. I'll have to stretch you out first.” Hob wiggles the digits on his right hand for effect, then dips them into the open bottle of oil.

“Now turn around for me, sweetling,” he commands. “Elbows and knees.”

Dream moves quickly into position, and Hob bites back a groan as he’s greeted with the sight of his beautiful Dream with his arse in the air. Hob climbs back onto the bed and parts Dream’s cheeks with his hands, rubbing his thumb on the tight muscle of his arsehole. Hob wants to slide his tongue inside that pretty little hole. So he does.

“Ah, ah!” Dream moans as Hob presses his face into his arse, his mouth alternating between sucking and licking at his hole. “What are you-?”

“Isn't it obvious?” Hob chuckles, breath ghosting over Dream’s rim. “I'm tasting my prize.” Hob then spread’s Dream’s cheeks wider to give himself better access, before he plunges his tongue inside.

Dream is so very tight, and it is an effort for the king to fully push his tongue past the initial breach. Hob does not normally enjoy the sour flavor of another man’s arse, but he relishes in the taste of Dream, and he’s encouraged further by the lewd moans that escape from the other man’s mouth. Before long, Dream is pushing his hips back on Hob’s tongue, trying to get him to go deeper inside.

“Wait!” Dream cries suddenly, his whole body suddenly seizing. “I-I can’t I- Ahhhh!” Hob then feels the other man's entire body shudder as he comes for the second time that night. Hob groans and withdraws his tongue to admire his handiwork.

Dream is barely holding himself up on his elbows, and his hips are shaking as the orgasm washes over his body. Hob finds himself even more aroused, painfully so, at having been able to bring Dream to completion twice now, and he’s barely even touched him.

“Can't believe you came just from that,” Hob says appreciatively, running his hands along Dream’s hips, and pulling them to rest against his cock. “I didn't even touch your pleasure spot.”

“Pleasure…spot?” Dream mumbles, still dazed from his orgasm.

“Mmm,” Hob confirms. “There's one inside every man. Can easily be reached by fingers,” he adds, rubbing his thumb against Dream's hole. “But it feels much better when a cock hits it.”

“How…How do you-”

Hob laughs. “A King is never denied his pleasure,” he says, reaching for the oil again. “And I've had many. I've been wanting to teach them to you ever since you got here.”

“I - ohhhh,” Dream moans as Hob drips more oil onto his arse and rubs it along the entrance to his hole.

“Like that?” Hob asks, slipping his index finger inside.

“Yes, oh gods, yes,” Dream replies, pushing his hips back, driving Hob deeper inside him.

“Someone's greedy,” Hob growls. He already wants to add a second finger, wants so badly to stick his cock inside the tight wet heat of Dream. He’s almost certain the drug is keeping the other man’s body more relaxed than it otherwise would have been, but even so, Hob doesn’t want to tear the poor man apart on his first time. He wants this experience to be just as pleasurable for Dream as it will be for him. It may be the only opportunity he gets to bed this beautiful, stunning creature.

“Ah ah, please, more,” Dream groans when Hob crooks his finger just so. Hob responds by burying his finger as far as it will go, and he just barely feels the lump of Dream's pleasure spot under the pad of his finger. Dream jerks when Hob touches it, and screams.

“Found it,” Hob crows triumphantly.

Dream opens up beautifully for Hob on his fingers afterwards. Hob finds the other man’s pleasure spot much more easily once he adds a second finger, and Dream’s wanton cries nearly push Hob over the precipice of his own pleasure. It's been some time since Hob has been so affected by a lover. He's quite certain Dream's going to ruin him for any future ones.

When Hob pushes a third finger inside, Dream's body shudders through another orgasm, his cock only managing to release a few pitiful drops of come. Hob can tell the other man is wrung out, and he pauses with his fingers still in Dream's arse, waiting to see if the other man is too tired to continue. Hob may not be a good man, but he's not a beast. He won't fuck an unconscious body.

But Dream doesn't lose consciousness, much to Hob's surprise. His hips eventually push back against Hob's hand once more, and then his head slowly lifts to meet Hob's gaze. The look Dream levels at him is still fogged by the aphrodisiac, but the intention is clear as a summer day.

Don't stop.

Hob withdraws his fingers and reaches for the oil once more, the bottle nearly empty from the liberal amount he’d used to open Dream up. But there is just enough left to coat his cock and within seconds, he has himself positioned right where he's wanted to be all night.

“Ready for me, my sweet Dream?” Hob asks, breathless. “I’m going to fuck you now.”

Hob sinks himself slowly into that warm, tight heat and it takes all of his self control not to come immediately. Dream whines with each slow push of Hob’s hips, and Hob listens to make sure the man is still breathing through the intrusion.

Fuck you’re still so tight,” Hob moans. “Are you all right, my Dream?”

Dream’s only answer is a guttural cry and the wiggle of his hips as he tries to take more of Hob inside him. Hob takes that as permission to sink even faster into him, and before he knows it, his pelvis is flush with Dream’s arse. He takes a moment to breathe through the pressure they must both be feeling at the tight fit.

“I’ve got you,” Hob murmurs, rubbing his hands soothingly along Dream’s spine. “You’re doing so well for me, sweet thing, you’re so, so, good.”

Dream seems to keen under the praise, and he responds in tiny little whines and please please please, more more.

Hob pulls out ever so slightly, and when he pushes himself back inside Dream, they both moan at the contact. Hob then sets to the task of fucking the other man in earnest, keeping the pace moderate and gentle, so that Dream can still get used to to the size of him.

Dream sobs loudly when Hob manages to find that spot inside him, and it’s then that Hob realizes something is amiss, has been amiss all night, in fact.

“My little Dream,” Hob croons as his hands roam over Dream’s arse. “Have you forgotten my name?"

Dream’s head whips behind him suddenly, and Hob barely holds back a laugh at the shocked look on the other man’s face. So the little tart was withholding that on purpose then. He snaps his hips particularly hard, and it has the intended effect of making Dream howl in agonized pleasure.

“Dream,” Hob says again, thrusting back quickly, too quickly, into the other man. “What’s my name?”

“R-R-Robert, ah!”

“Tsk. Incorrect.” Hob spanks Dream’s left arsecheek, and the other man yelps in surprise. He tries to scoot forward and away, but Hob wraps an arm around his hips, and then uses his free hand to spank the other cheek.

“Not my Christian name, pretty thing,” Hob growls, rubbing at the reddened flesh before swatting at it again. “I gave you a name only you could call me when you arrived. Now what was it?”

“Hob!” Dream yells, thrashing wildly in his arms. “Hob, please, no more, I need-”

“Need what, my sweet Dream?” Hob asks with false sweetness. “What does my little pet need from his king?”

“Please,” Dream whines, practically sobbing as he pushes himself back onto Hob’s cock. “Fuck me, Hob.”

Hob hums, pleased. “Good boy.” He snaps his hips hard once more, and Dream howls.

Whatever thin veneer of patience remained in Hob’s body is shattered as he finally gives into the animalistic urge to fuck into this pretty little body as hard and as fast as possible.

Dream cries and whines through the whole ordeal, finally giving up the last of his pride and calling Hob by name when thrusts his hips at just the right angle inside.

"That's right," Hob pants, tightening his grip on Dream's hips and plunging back inside the tight clutch of his body. “See how good I can be for you, sweetling? I could give you this every night if you wanted.”

Dream's response, apparently, is to clench down hard on Hob's cock.

Ah fuck!" Hob shouts. He manages a few more hard thrusts, aiming as close to Dream's sensitive area as he can, before he roars his orgasm, spilling hot and fast into Dream's arse.

Hob collapses on top of Dream's back, breathing heavily and inhaling the smell of their mingled scents. Dream whines and tips over to his side when Hob pulls his cock out. The raven haired man is always beautiful, but he's especially beautiful now, breathless and naked and curled up in Hob's bed.

Hob gathers the smaller man into his arms and arranges their bodies so that Dream's back is pressed to Hob's chest. He runs his fingers idly along Dream's still hard nipples, and it's only when he looks down to admire them that Hob notices something is not quite right.

"Oh you poor thing, you didn’t come," Hob coos, dropping his hand from Dream's chest to his cock. Dream whines and thrashes when Hob squeezes it, clearly overstimulated despite still being aroused.

"Hob, no, I-I can't c-come again, it's too much I-" Dream tries to protest but Hob shushes him gently.

"You can, my pretty little Dream," Hob says, right as a wicked idea enters his mind.

Hob sits up from their cuddling position and presses Dream gently onto his back. Dream only protests a little before Hob positions himself and brings his head down to lick at the tip of Dream's cock.

Dream thrashes and tries to thrust his hips up, but Hob pins them down with his arms. Dream is a very sensitive lover, and Hob loves how reactive his body is, but he needs the other man to keep still for this particular activity. Hob would prefer not to accidentally choke to death on cock just because Dream was overenthusiastic.

"Stay still for me, my sweetling," Hob murmurs. "I'll make you come soon, I promise."

"Ho-o-ob," Dream sobs, shaking beneath him. "Please."

Hob doesn't think he'll ever get tired of hearing this beautiful man say please.

Without further fanfare, Hob takes Dream's cock into his mouth and sucks at the tip, gentle at first, then harder once he's certain he can hold Dream down when he reacts to the stimulation.

It doesn't take much effort before Dream is shuddering underneath his touch, and Hob happily accepts the miniscule drops of come he manages to wring from Dream's overworked cock. Sucking cock is yet another activity Hob prefers not to engage in himself, but he thinks he could get used to sucking on Dream's, if the other man lets him after tonight.

Hob realizes there are a lot of things he'd do for Dream if the other man asked. It's a dangerous thing, being so affected by another individual like this. Hob finds he doesn't quite care at the moment as he crawls back up Dream's body and arranges them in their previous position, Dream's back pressed to Hob's front. He doesn't remember when he falls asleep.

When Hob wakes the next morning, it is to a warm wetness at the base of his cock. He is also lying on his back and there is something weighted pressing down on his thighs.

Hob opens his eyes and lifts his head to look down at what exactly is happening beneath his hips.

Dream's eyes snap to his, and Hob moans out loud when he realizes the other man has Hob's cock in his mouth.

"Well good morning to you too," Hob says cheekily. "Don't let me stop what you're doing, I'm rather enjoying it."

Dream's eyes stay locked on Hob's for a few moments longer, and Hob notices right away that they are no longer hazy and unfocused, but clear.

Dream sinks his mouth further down onto Hob's cock, and Hob gasps when the other man takes him to the hilt. He only barely manages not to thrust into Dream's throat, but it's a near thing with the way Dream drools and gags with each bob of his head.

When he feels the familiar tightening in his loins, Hob places his hand in Dream's hair and gently tugs the man off his cock. Dream grumbles in displeasure as Hob sits up and pulls the other man into his lap.

"As much as I'd love to come down that pretty little throat of yours," Hob rumbles, biting at Dream's ear, and gripping one of his buttocks possessively. "I haven't gotten my fill of this arse yet."

Dream huffs. "Will you be able to make me come on your cock this time?" he asks, making Hob's jaw go slack. Hob can practically feel the man smirking against his shoulder.

"Oh, you're a brat when you're sober, are you?" Hob growls, now fully awake, before he flips their positions and pins Dream underneath him. From his new vantage point, Hob can see the clear challenge mixed with heat in Dream's eyes. Hob resolves to not come before he's given Dream at least three orgasms on his cock alone.

"I know just what to do with a little tart like you," Hob grins, cock already in hand.

Dream's returning grin is sharp and feral as he parts his legs, Hob's come still dripping out from his puffy hole.

"Then show me."

#dreamling #dream x hob #hob x morpheus #the sandman #nsft #sandman fanfic #dubcon #use of aphrodisiacs #drugging #seiya writes #seiya writes dreamling

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skyliv · 2 months

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skyliv master post! [the ship not my account lol]

although she wasn’t my introduction to selfshipping, and at first i was actually too nervous to even consider her, i am so corny when it comes to liv. in a good and bad way.

idk what to describe this post as, its a mix of tag descriptions and lore summary! hope that makes sense lol

@kayakoto-enterprises you wanted to be tagged helloo!!!

s/i info: Lucielle Ross! 25 year old mutant who’s recently graduated from Xavier’s with a masters in wildlife biology (Specifically marine life but Xavier’s didn’t have a separate course for that). Mutation caused her to be born with those seal features, her main power being that she can transform if she has her pelt and is at water. She’d followed Olivia’s work throughout university, and had briefly met her, but they finally properly met when Luce signs up as a mutant volunteer for Alchemax.

In this universe, the collider has barely reached its target funding, meaning construction hasn’t even started. Fisk still funds Alchemax (not for his family) but Liv is still finishing up other projects. One project in particular, what Lucielle volunteered to help with, is an addition to security systems that detects the X gene in people. It was supposed to just be one appointment, maybe some DNA samples and advice on the device, but since Luce was the first volunteer Liv figures there wouldnt be any harm in suggesting weekly meetings. For science of course!

She’s swearing she won’t get attached, after all Kingpin just offered a few billion dollars to start more research on multiverse theory. But. whoops. seals r cute and she thinks this woman is too

Their relationship is weird (/j i just like to poke fun at them) built off mutual fascination in each other and the reassuring sense that they can take this slow. Liv is still doctor octopus, so there’s some tension with her being in that line of work (there’s been at least one incident w that metal chair). One loving the other is like breathing to them, even from different ways of life they found themselves bound from the start, stuck together like suction cups

a seal and an octopus, a lamb and a cat, the ocean and the cliffs, magics and technology, they’re an odd mixture but they fit together just fine

main au list: sky-spider [spidersona x Doc Ock], fantasy [ocean princess x alchemist], march hare [villainsona nd doc ock!]

fun fact liv is eventually discouraged to ruin her life by devoting it to the collider in particular. she’s still a hard worker, maybe spot can be a villain hmm.. idk.

tags: #liv gifs [gifs, pretty obvious], #🪶🧪 [general- any art, writing, or rbs that make me think of her nd me], #fantasy au [self explanatory, a few drabbles on my most developed au], #sky spider [also self explanatory, anything with my spidersona], #phoca vitulina [anything with my selkie/mutant s/i], #tender buttons [my first fic! older posts, but it includes the full thing on a drive], #🐚 [any of my writing posts abt liv], #⚗️ [my newest lore fanfic! regarding my mutant s/i]

playlist: right here! on apple music. either going by vibes or specific to meanings, i just really like these songs, and i feel like they’d both like these tracks

#scheduling for when i’m asleep #selfship #self ship #oc x canon #account news #f/o #f/o community

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satancopilotsmytardis · 3 months

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I'm unable to comment on the fanfic so I came here to make my comment... and what the fuck was that??! I was momentarily holding my breath as if I were the one in trouble, when Dabi hid the scalpel under the rug I had to stare at the cell phone for a few minutes reflecting if it was worth sacrificing my peace of mind to continue, because I I was sure that Tomura would find him and end him in the worst way possible!! ...Anyway, I also noticed a lot of similarity with an older fanfic of yours which was Alpha X Alpha, Seeing changes in trajectory, of course our Shigaraki remains cold and distant, but here he is characterized as someone maintaining his name and reputation, and also someone hurt and oppressed!! which is a total context change compared to the other fics, but it makes a lot of sense since he's a bunny (I can't forgive you for not giving us a glimpse of Shiggy's furry bunny tail 😭), Dabi didn't break down easily in this one, instead He used his brain and allowed himself to wait for the right moment, I'm proud of him! But anyway, I spent the entire fic imagining how cute Shigaraki's look as a hare is and also how scary he can still be even with that, I loved the work!! as always breaking my heart.

Lol I can see why there would be some comparisons to Bitch Me (Violently), but yes, this one is a very different beast. And not mentioning his tail was on purpose for this one because it wasn't often that Shigaraki fully gave up his back and completely faced away from Dabi, because of his paranoia, hence why he kept his nest in his line of sight and his kennel in his periphery throughout the fic. I did specifically choose to make him a snow hare (which are classified as rabbits despite the name) because hares and rabbits have very different social behaviors which make them unsuitable for living in Shigaraki's current environment or being kept on a farm. I'm glad you enjoyed the piece, and thank you for commenting!

#tanco speaks #ask #asks

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un-local · 10 months

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Good luck with grad school!! How about flow, grin, silver, smirk and stare? :0)

Thank you! ... I was like, a B-average student at best in my undergrad... so uh, we'll see how this works out for me XD

Now! Onto the chaos!

Flow:

No hits for flow in my worknotes, but I do have "flowers," sooooo:

MANOR: Strange flowers near ranni? Near her tower, byproduct of cursemark fuckery? Inverse of db roots ⁃ thin, weak blueish flowers? Fuck if i know ⁃ or divine tower

Grin:

M huffs, uneasily: if you’re wrong— (catch in her voice, fist shakes/sways a little) ⁃ Swears theres a shit eating grin on his face, by his tone: mm, youll kill me?

Ah, this is a fun one. From a half-drafted scene where they realize the only way they're getting to the deeproot depths is by getting into a coffin. Magdalene, predictably, does not like this.

Silver:

No hits for silver in any of my drafts. Using the next closest hit, we have:

NAMELESS ETERNAL CITY: UGH! BASILISKS!

Presented without comment

Smirk:

I apologize Mags looks at him incredulously, then smirks Seriously? She says under her breath Nothing wrong with having manners, you know

Currently unplaced, but I hope I can fit in sometime.

Stare:

M stops abruptly ⁃ You did get the blade right Of course I did Both stare at it ⁃ observations here

Wow, Hare. Very writing. much words. So author XD

Thanks anon, this was a fun treat!

Send me words!

(I have wips from FO4, Starfield, and Skyrim being plotted as well—feel free to send asks about those if you want to peek under the hood for my future projects, lol)

#god help me... swrd plot is still a mess #but at least its funny!#ask game #hare posts #still waters #hare answers

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knightofhylia · 1 year

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Adamkvi: Peace and Joy on the Planet Earth

I am honouring Adamard 'Puka'. His tag is adamkvi.

History and Name:

He came to me as part of a Full metal Alchemist OC. Adamard is a combination of 'Adam' and 'Edward', since he started as an Edward export I wanted to keep the name. It is pronounced "ah-DAHM'-ard" His middle name, Llolineu is a mystery. I don't really know where it came from. It has been spelled also as Llolineau. I always pronounced it 'Lah-lahl-eh-new' but I think it is closer to "Tholl-eh-noh". Considering that Puka is from the UK, I wouldn't be surprised if the double L is supposed to be like the Welsh letter that we see often in Llewlleyn. It's pronounced more like a 'th' with the tongue behind the teeth as opposed to on the teeth with an L. Another interesting synchronicity with his name is that he is mostly known as Puka. I used to refer to Puka, his wife, and their partners as 'the goblins' because they were mostly all short fae creatures with a tendency for trouble. I learned later that púca is the old English word for goblin! interesting huh? His last name is Tracey, but I don't think that had any specific origin, I think I just picked that from a list.

Role:

in 2020,when I was working with my deities I asked them all what their 'role' was by pulling 3 Tarot cards (This is when my Zelda deck was all I had). His as follows:

The Hanged Man Surrender, release, waiting, sacrifice The World Change, luck, taking action, inevitable change King of Swords Intellect, objective, assertive

When I first pulled these cards I assumed everyone was 'a deity' but as I've gotten to know them all, Puka is more of a saint/prophet than a deity. He is godspoused to the spirit of the Life and is very close to a Yeshua/Jesus figure: an embodiment of a god on earth whose focus is to spread kindness, love, and justice.

Lore and Description:

Adamard has been both human and machine multiple times. He was drowned as a child by bullies and was made into an android. Later, he was changed back into a human .He is intersex and albino. He was a part of many experiments which lead to his clone, Cain, and his son, Beauramard. He was groomed by an Anglican offshoot cult to be their saviour, however, he was later disregarded after the birth of his child did not change the world as prophesized. He later married D'sukinz, the actual prophesized saviour, and raised their children together. His patron deity is Niseag and D'sukinz. He is the son in law of Hemy, and brother in law to Kaleitti and Junalahqi.

Appearance:

He is albino with pale skin, white hair, one blue and one pink eye. I never remember which is which tho. In his teenage years he was forced on hormones to 'fix him' so he presented more feminine. as he got older he presents more masculine/androgynous. His favourite colour is blue. He has scar on his neck and a scar/tattoo on his forehead.

UPG story:

Puka was actually a name given to him by a longtime friend of mine. I collect BJD dolls and have two of him. One day my friend commented saying he looked like a 'pukabear' and when I asked what the was they said 'I dunno but it's him!' I rarely use Adam or Adamard with him,I mostly call him Puka lol.

I mostly experience puka in my head so I don't have very many upg stories I guess. Sometimes when I get thrown into a laughing fit my husband calls it 'my puka laugh' lol. There is a still al to for me to learn about him! I also haven't worked directly with him in a long time.

Correspondences:

Animals - rabbits, hares, albino animals, Astrology - Virgo, Venus, Gemini, the Moon Beverage - Tea Color - Blue, Pink, White

Crystals: Rose Quartz, Pearl, Aura Quartz, Coral Emotions - Peace, Love, belonging

Epithets: The Auspistice, Peace Keeper, Flower - Rose, baby's breath, elfdock Fruit - Apples, Strawberries, Herbs - Damiana, Motherwort, Carrots Keywords - Love, Harmony, Rebirth Kvi - September Meme -

Metal - Iron, Aluminum Musical Expression - electro swing, indie folk, vapourwave

Number - 50, 38 Playlist - Lüzers Mythical Animal - Unicorn, Mermaid, Jackalope Physical Expression - Sex, Stimming, being flirty Sense - Touch Symbol -

#adamkvi #magick #magic #witchcraft #witchblr #witches of tumblr #pagan #paganism #spirituality #spiritual #diy deity #bokh dva'#deity worship #deity correspondences #hevalism #dva'dakh #spirit work

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chaewonplzbiteme · 1 year

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Three days...

First of all - thank you all a lot! To every reader, every reblogger, every liker, and last but not least, every follower! Thanks for the warm welcome.

Three days is a lot of time. Three revolutions of my home around the poles. My first proper work had a few cycles to traverse the globe and its time zones a few times, to gain impressions and arousing interest.

I'm giving you guys some of my thoughts and behind the scenes.

Publishing was not something I had in my mind when starting any of my two works so far. The 'Jessica x SinB' was rotting away in my drive, only recently have I dusted it off and posted it. 'Lazy Evaluation' was for shits and giggles - I could not stop after adding a joke and another joke. Well, gotta post somewhere at some point.

This blog was close to a start from zero. Two days before I posted 'Lazy Evaluation' - I was still writing the last paragraphs and did not even edit yet - I created the Tumblr and posted an old work of mine. Close to seven years old, I barely even remember how I wrote it. Just a horny night in front of MS Word. That's all I know. One like, one follower. Thank you, @cheezbot and @hasinum! You guys gave me a nice headstart~.

---

Potential spoilers for 'Lazy Evaluation' follow.

I have started Lazy Evaluation on March 11, and finished it on March 31. Twenty days, multiple hours every day (and a LAN party) - a lot longer than a single night for 'Jessica x SinB'. But the journey was a lot of fun, and I experienced a lot of tingly feelings for JiU 😊.

5k words, 30k characters, 145 paragraphs.

This sentence started it all:

Her low hums guided your mouth between her mounds, but your tongue dictated the rhythm of her mellow purrs.

It got me fixated. It set the theme. Bi-directional love making. And the rest of the paragraph followed. Fucking long sentence after this one, lol. I wanted to expand upon this. I knew I needed a mommy with big decent boobs deserving of worship. I thought of Karina or Eunbi first, but I'm afraid I don't know them that well. I don't follow any of their content except for MVs and some stages. JiU is a long lasting love, though, uninterrupted since 2014. I dig every single breath of her. Whopping body. Mine. What a good fit.

How would they start? Help with homework, a frustrating one would suit well. No one understands Monads, countless tutorials and even more memes about the myriads of tutorials. We have our computer science topic. Lazy-by-default evaluation is another concept common from the Haskell programming language, just like Monads. Perfect for procrastination. The fact that lazy-by-default is actually uncommon for programming languages and other technologies, but the de-facto modus operandi for a non-negligible number of humans has been brought to you by the academia gang.

Tortoise and hare is a fable about the hare losing the race due to its own arrogance. Also a heuristic for cycle detection in computer science. Good fit, but better about a race towards the peak, a vicious cycle of pleasure and edging.

A massage would initiate the intercourse. Maybe a hand job before the 69. A cream pie would be delicious. Target is three cum shots - no less. How to transition between positions. Joke about forgotten protection - I doubt Minji would be that careless, add her getting a pack of condoms from her bag (did anyone notice?).

I was already making a lot of jokes, some in mathematics and computer science. I tried to incorporate some classic jokes, too. Not all of them verbatim. The cloud is just someone else’s computer.

Pure functions are side-effect free. A consequence of this property is we can achieve idempotence. A healthy penis also satisfies this property, though, as your boner clearly shows.

I combined the following with a silly 1 + 1 = 3 joke:

A physicist, a biologist and a mathematician sit in a sidewalk cafe, looking at the building across the road. Two people go into the building, then three people come out. Physicist: "This must be a measuring error!" Biologist: "This is proof of procreation!" Mathematician: "If one more person goes into the building, it will be empty!"

Maybe I am the only one laughing. Who cares. You see the result at the cream pie. The sum of all its parts is greater than the whole. I combined with that, too.

About the never-before-solved formula: I consider this to be quite surprising, when we look at the fact that there are more than eight billion humans in the world. It is possible that there has not been sufficient time to process the empirical evidence, given the exponential increase of the population in the last two hundred years – going from one billion to eight billion. I imagine that observing and examining such vast amounts of data to be very time-consuming. Also, not all results of examining the data have been made available to science, most notably by the method of pornographic content consumption.

Some general science and academia jokes. The academic paper structure for the final big joke. An exercise left for the reader. I nearly did a n=1 joke. Given the importance of our research question, I think it would be valuable to increase our sample size to ensure that our findings are robust and reliable. Sequel, anyone?

So much about volcanoes and mountains and hills and mounds and caves. I should have studied geology instead of computer science ;_;. (plot twist: I failed university)

I added one thing and didn't want it to go to waste, like the chocolate, so I added it to another part. Same with some other little details, like Minji's composure. That way I had a common thread (several, actually) running through the story.

Some smaller pop culture references to Lord of the Rings (VERY hard to spot), Attack on Titans, and of course Harry Potter (it's more than the movie title ;) the cum we lose in the chamber of secrets has a way to come back to us in the end, if not always in the way we expect). I had given some thoughts about whether a potential reader should understand every reference I add, given that they also know the source media. My conclusion: No... I will giggle about my hidden jokes alone if I have to. Not everyone has to. Not everyone will. Even if they know the source media.

I also had some goals that I rarely see in male reader fics: "Minji needs to feel good, too." I had a big-ass note hovering over my draft all the time: "What's in it for Minji?" Add stuff about their antics. About what they love about each other.

They were obviously in an existing relationship. Some thoughts about how that came about (not really), how they lived, what their relationship was like before. I almost cried when I wrote the scene with the three words, some tears were already forming actually. It was not a conscious choice to place it that far back, but it did fit well.

A lot of things were a natural consequence, everything leads to the next thing. How do writers say? Have good characters, and the story will write itself. A good cause will lead to a good (and obvious) consequence. No idea if I have good characters, but it all worked out for me. It all feels natural. This is what counts. I'm happy with it.

Again, it was a lot of fun! The rush of adding things into the mixer and see it bloat into something beautiful is quite addicting. From the beginning I could not anticipate the end. It was quite a tremendous journey.

Sadly the following part did not make it - at least verbatim - I was unsatisfied of how much I was jumping from metaphor to metaphor, from one image to a completely different. Had to reduce.

Minji gulped down the snake all the way down, choking on it and feeling it throb at the back of her throat. The other end of the snake did not relent, however, and continued its attack, circling around her nub, unafraid of the secretions her cavern produced in defense, but now even more determined to continue.

I mean, where the fuck would a snake come from. So I changed it to the hare's tail. In hindsight, I maybe should have experimented with hare's paw / foot / whatever it is called in English. You know, the good luck charm.

So many messy thoughts.

Editing and revision makes everything perfect - or at the very least, better. Sometimes. Eventually. Maybe. Who knows? Perfectly fine.

---

Next up, the whopping numbers. These are far beyond the lowest expectations I would ever have for this work, especially given the niche nature of computer science and maths. I cannot say I had any doubts, since I did not expect anything in the first place. Until Tumblr started to summarize the followers for the day.

24h:

72h:

I cannot rationalize these numbers. I have no baseline to relate them to. I can only see: 'big' authors seem to have ~500-1000 notes on a work in days / weeks / months / years / decades. Very muddy numbers. No idea how Tumblr works, every author and every post has different numbers. And I have a fraction of that. In three rotations of the planet.

Thank.

You.

All.

Most of all.

Thank Minji.

Does it tell me it's any good? Who cares, I defined it as finished. I won't ever touch it again. A solution exists. I can go back to sleep.

Maybe it does tell me that some of you are nerds, though - and that I am not alone in being one. Uwu~.

Ok now I shall throw the stats into the bin. A surprise to be sure, a welcome one at that, too. But I intend to write for myself. More than incoherent dreams and thoughts. Ordered, sorted and well-thought out scenarios is a big step up for me. Not synthesized-up and randomized brainstorms. I have ChatGPT my brain for that.

Also rushing for stats make me sick, lol. I'm already engrossed enough with work and the sideways movement of the stock markets. I'm incapable of playing Rainbow Six due to the adrenaline.

---

I have started reading some fics again after those three weeks. And I notice. So. Many. Differences. To other people's work. It is actually a good thing. I don't have much moaning, no "I'm cumming". Way less dialogue, the only conscious difference I was aiming for. Lots of descriptions and images. Volcanoes and burning hot lava in mouths and vaginas, hahaha. Minji gets to be pleasured and cum. Heaven forbid no one think about her!

The world thrives on variety and diversity, so it is actually a good thing to show you guys another way to write smuts, albeit accidentally. Everyone brings something different to the table. We all love each other.

The world needs more breeding fics, especially of the fluffy and romantic variety.

---

Do I have something planned next? Maybe. No promises. How long it will take? Only heaven knows...

Peace, out! ✌️

#hello it's me #introduction #behind the scenes #an yujin coming soon?#only heaven knows #writing experiences #dreamcatcher smut #dreamcatcher fluff #writer thoughts #next smut teaser #kpop smut #kpop fluff

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