#he just wants to look presentable damnit

[nightsnacker99]

the jasad heir: a tale of a man and his vest

[taeyongdoyoung]

wolf and bunny

summary: you ask your best friend to fuck you in your sleep but your bottled up feelings come out to the surface... pairing: chan x reader genre: smut, best friends to lovers warnings: cnc/somnophilia, discussion of boundaries, eating out, touching, groping, unprotected sex, spanking, stranger+wolf/bunny roleplay, little red riding hood references, face-slapping (once), size kink, cockwarming, multiple rounds, feelings (ew), pet names, discussion of future scenario 👀 (i know i said this is the end but...we'll see) author's note: hii everyone, this is the third and final part of my wolf and bunny series, thank you so much for going on this nasty journey with me 🤍 part one & part two word count: 2k

You and Chan are having a bit of a disagreement in connection with the circumstances surrounding your next game.

“But I want to know exactly which night you’ll do it.”

“If you know, you won’t be able to fall asleep,” Chan reasons with you. “Kinda like Santa Claus. Kids stay up all night waiting for him and then he never comes.”

“Please, even if the kids were asleep, he’d still never come ‘cause the parents are putting the presents under the tree!”

“It was just a metaphor.”

“A bad one. You’re gonna have to work harder to convince me.”

“Hey, wasn’t this your idea in the first place?” Chan reminds you teasingly. “You’re the one who wants me to fuck her in her sleep.”

“Ey, don’t pretend you won’t be into it,” you shake your head.

You are both so stubborn you don’t see this ending unless one of you retreats. Then, after a brief consideration, you speak again.

“Fine. You can keep the secret of the exact night you’ll do this. On one condition.”

“Sure, bunny, let’s hear it,” Chan listens eagerly.

“If I wake up, you won’t stop. I’ll just pretend I’m still sleepy and we keep going.”

“Is that even possible? I mean, for you to not wake up?”

“It is if you drug me or something,” you shrug.

“Ugh, don’t give me such evil ideas. You never know when I might take advantage of you.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it, wolfie.”

“But are you sure the sleep thing is a great idea? I mean, you wouldn't be able to say a safeword...” Chan can't help but worry, always putting your needs first and planning every scenario in great detail to make sure you're alright. Damnit, could he get any more perfect? He's so sweet and considerate you wish you could just tell him how you feel. But what if that scares him away? What if you lose not only your wicked game buddy but your best friend in the entire world? You wouldn't be able to live with yourself.

“Yes, I'm positive, Chris,” you place your hand on top of his. “I trust you 100% and know that you'll look after me. The question is, do you trust my judgement?”

“I mean, I do trust you. It's just that last time you didn't communicate your discomfort clearly and I wouldn't want to risk messing up to the point of accidentally hurting you,” Chan verbalizes his anxieties.

“I get what you're saying but it's not like I'm open to doing this with a stranger. It's you we're talking about. You've always been great at taking care of people so I know you wouldn't go too far. But at the same time, I wouldn't mind if you went loose. If anyone can take it and accept you fully, it would be me.”

“Yeah, I know. You're right. But just in case, I want you to know beforehand that I care about you and respect you like a lot. So, even if I get carried away, I still want you to feel safe.”

“Aww, Chris, ya old softie! I always feel safe with you, it goes without saying!” you insist.

“Well, I like hearing you say it.”

You gulp nervously. His voice is so commanding and yet so reassuring that your words have never rung truer. He's more to you than a safety net and you hope he knows it. He's incredibly thoughtful and infinitely kinder than the first expression. He's a riddle in the way he keeps surprising you and yet you wanna keep learning more about him. He's hundreds of the loveliest words in the dictionary multiplied. He's more comforting than your favourite blanket. He's warmth personified and you would be an idiot to let him go.

“I'll try to say it more often, then,” you promise. “When I'm with you, I know no harm will come my way. But here's the thing...you're the only one I'd willingly let hurt me.”

“I don't want to hurt you, though.”

“You don't?” you pout, suddenly feeling guilty. Then, what have you been doing? Was he forcing himself to act out these fantasies for your sake alone? You genuinely thought he was enjoying them as much as you were.

“Sorry, that came out wrong,” Chan is quick to explain. “I like our games. I meant that I don't want to hurt you emotionally. Ever.”

“Ah, yeah, that makes sense,” you chuckle, feeling a little stupid. “Well, you don't need to worry about that. Glad we had this talk.”

“Me too,” Chan gazes at you fondly.

“So, which night are you fucking me while I'm asleep?” you attempt to find out while he has this dazed look in his eye.

“Next- Hey, nice try! I'm not telling you, you impatient devil.”

“Aw, man, I was so close,” you bemoan the uncertainty of your future.

“You wish.”

The long-awaited night finally arrives. Chan has a key to your place so entering it is too easy. He makes sure he picks a night when you’ve complained about being exhausted and sleepy all day long. And he is certain that you’re passed out in your room, not suspecting a thing. Well, a part of you is always anticipating what could happen, but still.

He’s beyond glad to find you sound asleep. You’re wearing nothing but a t-shirt and some flimsy panties. Chan admires your sleeping form for a couple of brief moments before he gets down to business.

He wonders where to start. Should he tear them up? Or maybe push them to the side? Should he grope your boobs through your shirt? Or perhaps slide his hands beneath it, stroking your nipples directly? So many opportunities. He wants to do everything, he decides.

Chan starts by moving your panties to the side and licking your tiny pussy. He touches you with his fingers, gently prodding your entrance but not exactly sticking them inside yet. Then, he sneaks his hand underneath your shirt, teasing your nipples. Fuck, you’re so soft.

He marvels at the knowledge that you’d trust him with something like that. Though the previous scenarios were hot and intense as fuck, this one hits different for him. Maybe because last time you were awake, you were still in control because you could say the safeword whenever. Maybe because you want him at your most vulnerable even in your sleep. Or maybe because he’s slowly falling for you, but he doesn’t know how to say it.

It’s okay. Chan’ll show you, instead. He pinches your nipples lightly and continues to make out with your pussy. You are so wet already it’s adorable. He wonders if you’re dreaming of him, as you shift slightly in your sleep. He wants to drag this out. But how?

He uses his nails to trace circles on your skin, which causes goosebumps to appear. Are you cold? He wants to keep you warm and full at all times. Chan can’t take it any longer and takes his cock out, sliding in so perfectly. As if you were made for him. Made to take his cock and let him do crazy things to you. His sweet little bunny…

You moan desperately and the spell is broken. You’re awake. He wanders if you’ll speak or he’ll have to make you. Both options sound quite appealing. But he wants to hear your voice more than anything.

“Shhh, go back to sleep, sweetheart,” Chan whispers gently.

“W-who are you?” you cry out.

Aw, you’re gonna pretend not to know him? That hurts. But it can be fun, he thinks.

“Just the big bad wolf,” he chuckles at the irony of it.

“Please, don't do this,” you fake not wanting it, even though you've never wanted anything so badly in your life.

“Oh, bunny, but I already am,” Chan replies, spanking your ass a couple of times in the meantime.

“G-gonna split me in h-half,” you mumble, voice muffled against your pillow.

“Yeah? G'na ruin my sweet girl?” he speaks to you so softly you want to melt right there and then.

“Feel so full 'n so s'eepy,” you slur helplessly.

“Aw, tiny, go back to sleep, then,” Chan pats your head soothingly.

“Can't. What a deep voice you have!” you play along too well.

“All the better to degrade you with, my slutty bun,” Chan laughs, while still continuing to fuck you.

“What big hands you have!” you keep saying.

“All the better to grab your tits with,” Chan chuckles and makes good on his promise by playing with your boobs.

“And slap me with!” you remind him playfully.

“As you wish, princess,” Chan growls and slaps you across the face harshly but not harsh enough to actually leave a mark.

“What big eyes you have,” you sigh wistfully.

“All the better to stare at you fall apart,” Chan responds cleverly.

“And what big cock you have!” you scream, barely resisting the urge to laugh. Are you a silly little bunny or Little Red Riding Hood? At this point, you don't care, but it feels too good regardless.

“All the better to fuck you with,” he grunts loudly, spilling inside of you.

You follow rightaway and urge him to stay like this for a while. Maybe round two is in order?

“You know what else is big?” Chan teases you.

“Oh, shut up, Bigfoot!” you reply and are no longer able to hold it in, breaking into laughter. Chan also finds the interaction hilarious and buries his head in the nook of your shoulder. You stroke his hair without realizing. Shit, he's so adorable you almost say the three words. Is it too risky? Too soon? You need a distraction. You need... “Fuck me again.”

“Already? Aren't you tired?” Chan wants to make sure.

“Fuck me till I fall asleep again,” you ask him.

“Um, okay, sure,” Chan looks a bit confused but does as you ask.

This time there is less talking and more fucking but no matter how many rounds you go, sleep doesn't come again. You both orgasm more times than you could count, but somehow, it isn't nearly enough to distract you from the inevitable. You love him. Your heart knows it, your pussy knows it, even your brain knows it but is stubborny telling you not to confess for fear of somehow ruining things.

Once Chan decides he's completely spent for the night, he pulls out of you and rips off the bandaid.

“Are you alright? Something suddenly shifted but I can't quite place it,” he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and nudges you softly with his shoulder.

“Do you want the truth that might mess up everything or do you want me to lie to you and say I'm fine?” you ask, even though you're already on the verge to tell the truth.

“With you? Always the truth, please,” Chan clearly states his preference.

You sigh deeply and tilt to the side so you're facing him properly.

“I think...no, I know I love you.”

“I love you, too, babybun,” Chan responds fondly and kisses you on the nose.

“In a non-friendly way. And I don't mean just sexually, either. I mean, the friendly way and the sexual way haven't diminished, of course. But I also love you in a...I want to be yours, your girlfriend, your lover, your romantic partner, your everything.”

Chan is taken aback by your words. You...feel the same?

“You already are,” he confesses genuinely.

“Huh?” you blink in shock.

“I mean...you are already my everything. But, if you'd like me to officially ask you, then...will you be my girlfriend, angel?”

“You...you'll have me?” you are still in disbelief.

“I thought I already had ya,” Chan pinches your cheeks lightly.

“Damn right you do, Mr. Wolf,” you giggle and pull him into a kiss.

He smells like autumn, his embrace exudes warmth and his lips taste like home.

“You have no idea how badly I've wanted to tell you about my feelings,” Chan confesses. “When I found that story of yours in your drafts, I just couldn't resist the opportunity. I hoped that if I turned your fantasies into reality that you'd eventually fall for me.”

“Oh, Channie...I've been falling for you for longer than you realize,” you admit shyly. “How could I not? You're everything I've ever wanted.”

So, this is what it feels like to have the world in your hands. Huh. You could get used to it.

Bonus:

“No, I'm not kidnapping you!” Chan is adamant as you two sit in a nice restaurant.

“But Chriiiis,” you whine. “You said you'd do anything for my birthday.”

“Anything but that!” Chan shakes his head in amusement.

“Why not? It can be fun!”

“Fun? What if something goes wrong, what if someone sees us and thinks I'm actually kidnapping you, what if...hear me out, here, I go to prison for it?”

“Well, duh, then I'd bail you out!”

“As if you could afford it,” Chan rolls his eyes.

“Hey! But seriously, I'll just tell the cops that I asked you to kidnap me.”

“What if they don't believe you and think you have a Stockholm syndrome?”

“I'll...think of something. Come on, we're going too far with the what-ifs.”

“You gotta be prepared for any situation. You'd know that if you carried the heavy burden of being a dom,” Chan tsks at you.

“I'd know that if you let me,” you give him a wink.

“That will only happen the day I agree to fake-kidnap you.”

“So, tomorrow? It's a date!” you grin excitedly.

“Keep dreaming, darling.”

“Oh, I will.”

The End

[appleblueberry-pie]

YOU ARE EVERYTHING.

Where: You were Satoru's young caretaker when he was a child being raised by the clan. You became everything he ever wanted, and when he needed you most, you were taken away by the people that made him who he is. He takes it to heart and sought out for you when he becomes an independent adult. (7 year age gap)

With you, he was nothing. With you, he wasn't a weapon. A gun with its only purpose being to fire its trigger when it was pulled. With you, he wasn't a clan member, riches covering every inch of his floors and face. He wasn't the fear forced into those he faced, whether he liked it or not. He wasn't the balance of the planet he lived on. With you, he wasn't secretly scared. He wasn't silent. He wasn't silenced. He wasn't numb. He wasn't a thing. He wasn't an it. He was simply nothing. And being nothing with you made him become everything he could've ever hoped for.

He was a child, but he wasn't treated like one. And being his caretaker in such an....intimidating "home" made you sad for him. He was a blank canvas. He could've been rude to you. He could've spoken your ear off, threw things at you, berated you, cried, hid, smiled, anything. But he seemed so empty, alone, even though he was everything nature could've made him.

He was tired. You knew he was. A child shouldn't look at you the way he did when he first met you. So, in return, you gave him everything he deserved in hopes he'd realize that the way things are for him isn't how it is for everyone. And that he deserves a chance as well. At life, at living, loving, knowing and learning. So you cared.

I mean, it was your job to do it. It's in the name damnit. But that's not what they wanted you to do. You were just his baby sitter. Watch him for 5 hours a day, and they'll train him for 11 and then he sleeps for the rest. But with those 5 hours, you knew it could be more than just sitting around in his room or garden all day. So you attempted to incorporate some fun in every once and a while to try and get him to warm up to you.

You believe he was too used to people being there just to check on his well being; if he was living and breathing. So you gave some conversation crumbs. "Are you alright?", "Do you feel okay?" and the most difficult one, "How do you feel?" He would be a little taken aback by this last question(his face was still, but he would hesitate to answer). But he would answer, nonetheless. It felt like great progress knowing that he wouldn't flat-out ignore you. This was a great first step, in your opinion. And from there, you would continue talking to him.

Asking him how his day was during his lunch time. Offering to walk him around his place of living if he was bored of staying in his room. Asking if he wanted to wear something more comfortable if his traditional clothes bothered him too much. Making(one-sided) conversation while you cleaned his room. You would talk, but eventually, you would see him watching you talk as you cleaned.

About a few weeks later, he would finally warm up to talk back to you. Asking you questions about your little stories you'd tell him about your personal life. What would be provided during lunch that day, what he'd do once his break was over, asking how the weather would be. He'd also make requests that weren't the usual. Which includes the business his family would deal with that he's not usually provided with, if he could go with you while you did laundry across the hall, if he could stay with you during your break time, and....if you could help him with his assigned homework. He began to ask you to stick around while he did mundane tasks, and you realized how much of an impact you've made on his life just by being around and asking him to be present while you were there.

It took a month for him to become attached to you. You warned him multiple times that he shouldn't be so close to the women that are supposed to help around the house, and only help around the house. He didn't care and just wanted to stay by your side 24/7 when he realized how sweet affection could be, especially from someone as pretty and kind as you. You often snuck him little sweets from the kitchen, helped him read his favorite books, and you let him clean his room with you so that you two could spend more time together. You could tell he would always look forward to spending time with you and would nearly complain to his family when he had to go. Those 5 hours became less of a mindless bore and more of a mental exploration of what love and care truly is.

You were promoted to one of the head-maids in the house when his family realized how much easier it was to manage him when you were there to do it instead of the other women. He would comply so much more easier and obviously had a brighter look on his face when you came around to solve things that he was making hard for everyone else to deal with. Now, you were there when he woke up and went to sleep. You helped with his clothes and helped serve his lunch and his dinner. You made things easier for him to bare in the house. Which was your goal. You wanted him to be happy. And happy is what he finally was.

Days flew by with you there. Nights were softer and more beautiful when you were there towards the end of his day. Food tasted better, his training was easier to do and he felt something.

Something in his chest when you were around. It felt weird, but good at the same time. You often caught him rubbing his chest when you laughed at his sassy attitude and would see his ears turn pink. You'd tease him about him being shy and would pinch his cheek, which made his ears and neck turn red, which would make you laugh harder. It was nice having a friend for once, he would think.

But maybe he shouldn't have gave in to his desires. Maybe he should've pushed you away like he did when you first started interacting with him. Maybe he should've ignored his chest when it increased its beat when you came around. Because maybe then, his family wouldn't notice how much of an impact you've had on his life. Maybe they wouldn't separate you two since you guys loved being around each other so much. Maybe he should've ignored you when you told him with a sad face that you would only be around until tomorrow to pack your things.

If only he saw the way his own face dropped when those words slipped out of your mouth. The way his face when to horror, to sadness, to that stone cold look he's had for the longest time. You wanted to caress his face to soften the hard tension that resided in his forehead and cheeks. You wanted to hug him like he let you do when he wanted to cry so badly, but wanted to be a man. Well, a man is what they made him the moment they took away the one person that mattered to him.

When you left the clan house, you took his heart with him. But his devotion always stuck deep, deep in his stomach. And it wouldn't leave. He had never felt as angry as he did when you finally were escorted by car away from the home and his father had the nerve to tell him it was "for the best". He never clenched his fists so hard. Never wanted to wipe the tears off of his face so bad. But he didn't, in case you came back and wiped them off for him. Like you always did. But they dried on his face and remained until he washed his face in his bathroom alone. Too big for an 8 year old like him, but another person's presence would've been enough for him to ignore the empty, unneeded space.

And he remained that way. Alone. For years and years to come. And his yearning for you and your special care and love has been on the back of his mind as he continue to learn and grow, and he eventually became the weapon he was meant to be. He promised himself that he would never forget you. And he never forgot. He always remembered the warmth of your hands. The aura of your cursed energy, and how it felt when it lightly tickled his skin when he sat close to your side. How calm it made him feel. He never let himself forget, in hopes that he'd find you again one day. Little did he know that his efforts to remain in touch with the memories he had left wouldn't be done for nothing.

He couldn't believe his eyes. It was too dark. Too dark to see, but it was clear as day. That hair. That skin. That nostalgic scent and that energy. He ripped his blindfold off and felt his heart ache as it beats faster. "Whatthefuck." He muttered under his breath. It was cold and it certainly couldn't be comfortable like this. How long have you been here? Why were you here? Who did this to you? Was it really you? Was he dreaming?

He was informed of a missing sorcerer that hasn't been found in the past few weeks. Someone had hid you well with high security surrounding the area. No one could get in, so they obviously brought in their best weapon, him. He got through the "security" in a matter of seconds and reached you without so much as a blink of his eye. But you?? Why you? Is this what's been going on when he's been gone? You haven't gotten the strength to protect yourself so you go missing and let some nothings kidnap you and ruin your life?

He feels anger bubble in his stomach. Surprise and happiness surge his heart. The horror and confusion makes the rest of his emotions unbearable to handle. He doesn't know what to do or say. You're blindfolded, gagged, tied up and in thin clothing. From what he can see, they haven't done much but roughed you up and neglected you of things like food and water. Everything else seemed taken care of. Were they waiting for someone to bargain you back? The thought makes him grit his teeth and he'd rather not think about it. When he begins to undo your restrictions on your wrists and ankles, you let out noises of resistance and he tries to soothe you to tell you he's there to help you.

He removes your binds, your gag, and blindfold. You couldn't even hold yourself up, so he impatiently just teleports you back to his hotel room that was provided to him by the higher-ups for this mission. You immediately grow weak in the knees from the random moment of time-splitting transportation and drop to the floor, but he catches you. "I got you, I've got you. Let's get you on the bed, okay?" You're shaking in his arms and it takes everything in him to just not bombard you with questions and throwing past information on you to get you to remember him.

All you knew was that this random man that is intimidating the shit out of you with his cursed energy transported you to a hotel room after being tied up in a dark room all fucking week. A group of religious sorcerers out of nowhere asked you to join them one day when you were minding your own business at a flower shop. You declined and the leader stepped forward and dealt with you accordingly. You put up a great fight and his little family was going to step in, but you just couldn't get to him. So, he finished you first and kept you in a random dark room for 'safe keeping'.

But who was this? What was next after being kidnapped? Was he going to hurt you? Hurt you in ways the others hadn't? You hoped that for once in all of the time you had been held captive, that you'd finally catch a break and be given the necessities you needed to survive and be happy.

You blinked your eyes open, which was hard because the light from the ceiling-to-floor windows were nearly blinding you. The man had a tight grip on your arms and he continued to ask you questions about your well being that you couldn't understand at the moment. You scramble onto the bed and finally gain the sight and courage to look up at him. When your vision finally cleared, you were immediately flooded with memories of the past when you look into those familiar, tongue-numbing eyes.

You stared up at Satoru Gojo quietly for the first time in about 19 years.

.......That's right. It had been about 19 years since you last spoke. Years since you last gave up that life of following those dumb rules and took it upon yourself to teach yourself about the things they wouldn't tell you. To be better than they claimed you were. The byproduct of the people who nearly ruined your life was standing in front of you. No wonder you didn't like his energy. He had so much cursed energy oozing out of him that it made your muscles tense in a way it hadn't before. But that look in his eyes said something else entirely.

".....?" He wanted to say something to you badly, but you looked so scared. You averted your gaze before clenching your teeth. "Where...where am I?" You pathetically croaked out the words. You hadn't had a drink of water in so long. Satoru immediately rushed to the one on his night stand and opened it for you, giving it to you. You eyed the bottle, hand hesitantly reaching out. But you took it anyways, your drive for a drink overtaking your paranoia.

Most stress in your body faded when you drank the delicious mineral water and drained it in one go. Once you finished, you heaved a sigh in relief, the empty bottle hitting the ground. "You're in my hotel room. It wasn't safe where you once were. So, I just took you here."

You don't know if the man in front of you is still the boy you grew to love. But what you did know is that for the time being, you'd have to put your trust in him. You aren't healed, and you don't want any sorcerer government of any kind to know about your possible return. You'd have to ask him for help.

Satoru was more than happy to help you in any way he could. For so long, he was searching for you. His heart nearly broke into pieces when he kept searching, kept searching, and you just wouldn't be there. Not outside his door when he woke up. Not there when he would cry himself to sleep some nights with pounding headaches. And not there when he plainly lifted his head to the sky for forgiveness. He needed you. And here you are, needing him. And that look on your face was all he needed to know that this was his chance at redemption. To rebuild what once was broken. And to eventually gather warmth from being in your arms once again.

[my-castles-crumbling]

curl - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - word count: 217

"Damnit," James murmured, desperately smacking the top of his head with his hand, trying to flatten the last curl of his hair into submission.

He'd been fighting with his hair all morning. First in front of the mirror in his dorm, now in the bathroom by the Great Hall, he was angry, because why couldn't it just behave for one damn day? Regulus always teased him for his messy hair, and now that he'd finally agreed to accompany James to Hogsmeade, all he wanted was to look presentable. Worthy.

But as he nearly-growled, pressing the stubborn curl to his scalp, Regulus himself stepped into the bathroom, fixing James with a shocked expression. "Potter? What are you doing?"

"I...I'm.." James tried to think of an excuse but found none. "I wanted to look nice for you," he explained lamely.

But Regulus just blinked, stepping forward slowly and running his fingers though James's hair, purposely messing up is almost perfect tresses.

"Reg, what?" James began to protest, but Regulus smiled shyly.

"Ask me and I'll deny it, but...I like it how it usually is, James. You don't have to change for me," he shrugged, running his hand through the dark curls once more. "I'll meet you outside in a moment?"

And, nodding silently, James watched as Regulus disappeared again.

[the-fiction-witch]

I Am Your Wife

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Aegon Targaryen Couple - Aegon X Reader + (Mentioned) Jacaerys X Reader Reader - Y/n Targaryen (Aegons Wife) Rating - Sad + Sweet Word Count - 6875

Y/n marched inside the royal chambers, she soon saw Aegon lying in the bed half drunk still from last night, she stood at the foot of their bed in her emerald gown, her arms crossed as she waited for him to speak,

Aegon recognised that look on her face immediately as it was a look she had very often,

He rubs his eyes with a hand, then tries to comb his fingers through his messy hair to look somewhat presentable, rather than the unkempt bird’s nest it had become after last night’s activities. “What is it?” He mumbles, voice still thick with sleep.

"where were you?"

Aegon sighs deeply, knowing exactly what this is about. He runs a hand along his jaw, scratching over the skin. He had hoped to wake up earlier than her to avoid this whole dance, “Do you really want me to answer that?” He deadpans.

"Aegon you were supposed to be back to tuck Marcus into bed"

Damnit. Aegon grits his fangs together at the reminder, having hoped at least one of those responsibilities had been forgotten about. “I lost track of time, alright?” He mutters, avoiding her gaze and staring at the bedsheets instead.

"you could have at least apologized to your son at breakfast for not putting him to bed like you’d promised"

Guilt flares in his chest at that; he knew this was just as much about Marcus as it was about him. “I’m sorry.” He manages to get out, voice still hoarse from sleep. Aegon glances up at her, meeting her eyes and searching her face to gauge her reaction.

"well sorry doesn't make him sleep, he was up all night waiting for daddy to come and tuck him in and he's been crying since sunrise"

Damnit. Aegon groans, frustration and guilt battling in his chest. He knew that was what she’d say, that she’d use it against him. He should have come home last night, he should have tucked Marcus in and stayed the night in his own damn bed. He rubs his hand across his face, sighing again. “I’ll go and apologise now, how’s that?” He mutters.

"no. You won't disturb him. He’s gone for a hot bath and the maids are taking him to the dragon pit so he can spend time with his dragon"

Aegon deflates completely at that, guilt and disappointment coursing through him, his head hanging slightly as he lets his chin rest on his hand. “Right.” He mutters quietly in response. He knows a reprimand is coming from her, and he knows it’s fully warranted. It doesn’t stop the pang of irritation though, and the words are out of his mouth before he can stop them. “I have one damn night off, and that makes me a horrible father?”

"one night off? You do this constantly and have been for months"

Aegon tries to keep his expression stoic as her berates him, doing his best to not look like a wounded and scolded puppy.“It’s not-” He began to say, then stopped himself with a shake of his head. No, there was no point in making excuses or attempting to justify himself. “It’s just been a busy month.” He sighed instead. “We have a lot going on and I-” He cuts himself off again with a frustrated groan. Damnit, he wanted a fight, but he knew her were completely, utterly right with his one.

she sighed and turned to leave

Aegon sits and watches her go, feeling like an idiot. “Wait!” He calls out, wincing at how pleading he sounded. He swings his legs over the side of the bed, and stands up and goes after her, catching her wrist before she can stride out of the bedroom doors. A hint of vulnerability crosses his features as he gently pulls her to a stop, forcing her to face him. “Wait.” He repeats in a low murmur, his hand still holding firmly to her wrist. He takes a step closer, closing the distance between her. “Don’t go.”

"There's no point arguing with her Aegon. It doesn't fix anything. If you want to spend your nights drinking and whoring, then don't make promises to your children" she said pointedly but it was clear she was exhausted by arguing with him "or me." She adds before leaving

Aegon watches her leave, feeling utterly defeated. It was true, he’d broken more promises than he could count, but it hurt seeing the disappointment on herr face, and the resignation in herr voice when her gave up arguing with him. But more than that, it hurt that Marcus had been crying the entire morning, waiting for him, his father, to come home and tuck him in. He was a shitty father, he knew that, but it hurt knowing that everyone else realised it too. Damnit. Aegon lets out a frustrated huff, resisting the childish urge to kick the bed frame. He glances between the door her left through, and the bed he had been so comfortable in just moments ago. He knows he could just go back to sleep. It would be so much easier than having to deal with the aftermath of the night before. But he can still feel her wrist in his fingers, and hear the resignation in her voice when she spoke of him breaking promises. With a resigned huff, Aegon grabs his clothes from the floor and shrugs them on.

It doesn’t take long for him to reach the dragon pit, walking through his usual route without pausing to greet the guards or nod to the courtiers he passes by. The guilt still gnaws at his chest with every step he takes, but he tries his best to ignore it. He just wants to apologise to Marcus, and hopefully stop him crying. He finds his son in the dragon pits, as she said he would be. He smiles slightly seeing Marcus, now dressed in riding leathers, standing by Sunfyre looking up at his golden scales.

Marcus was always fascinated with Sunfyre, Marcus loved Sunfyre perhaps even more than he loved his own little dragon Silvercloud. Marcus let tears slip looking at Sunfyre.

Aegon couldn’t help but let out a deep sigh of disappointment at the sight of the tears on his son’s face. It hurt more than anything seeing his son so upset, and knowing it was his fault. He hated the fact that there was no one to blame but himself. His smile fell at the realisation of how his young son looked at his dragon. It stung, knowing that Sunfyre had a better relationship with Marcus, than Aegon had with his own son. Aegon forced himself to walk closer. He stopped a few feet away from Marcus, not wanting to come any closer and startle him. His gaze flicked over the boy, checking for any signs of injury, although something told him he wasn’t crying because of anything physical. With a deep breath Aegon called out, his voice quiet but firm. “Marcus?”

"good day" he sighed moving to pet his own small dragon SilverCloud still too young for him to ride after the dragon had hatched him Marcus's cradle

Aegon flinched at the words, and at the complete indifference in Marcus’s voice. When the boy failed to turn to look at him, Aegon felt a pang of guilt stab through his chest. His shoulders slumped slightly, trying desperately to ignore the hurt he felt from his son’s cold response, especially after the entire morning he had. Aegon cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking closer to Marcus. “Can I talk to you?”

the boy shrugged Petting his small dragon

Aegon took a deep breath. This was all so goddamn uncomfortable. It was rare that he got this nervous talking to anyone, let alone his own son. He cleared his throat awkwardly again, trying to figure out what exactly he should say. “I just- uh- I-” Goddamn it. Why was this so hard? Aegon forced the words out through his teeth. “I just wanted to uh… apologise. For not being there last night.”

"your never here."

The words stabbed through Aegon, more painful than any physical wound. Because it was true. He’d broken another promise to his son, yet again. Damnit. He knew this would be hard, that it would be difficult to have to admit his fault. But actually hearing the words from his son hurt more than expected. Aegon swallowed, trying desperately to keep his expression passive. “I know.” He managed to mutter out. “I’ve messed up a lot, and I keep messing up. I’m… I’m sorry.”

"you always say that! And then you never do what you say you're gonna do! It's not fair! Not fair to me. Or on Marybelle. Or mother." The boy shouted, "... Words don't mean anything, actions do." The boy said before taking his dragon back into its cave "I hope things are better... For baby" Marcus said which froze Aegon to the core as he heard no word about babies

Aegon was stunned into silence, his throat tightening so badly that he thought it might snap. Aegon couldn’t hear anything else over the rushing of blood in his ears. Baby. No. Please gods no. With unsteady, shaking hands, Aegon took a step forward, eyes wide in panic. “What… what baby?”

"Mother is having another baby..." Marcus answered

Seven hells no. Please no. Aegon almost stopped breathing altogether in that moment. Another baby? He took another shaky step forward, trying to quell the panic rising within him. “But- how do you know- you’re sure?” He managed to croak out.

"she told me and Marybelle were getting another brother or sister"

Aegon’s insides twisted themselves into a knot, his eyes wide and breathing shallow. Not again. The thought of another child, another baby. It wasn’t even the child itself he was afraid of. It was everything else. Aegon stared at his son, eyes boring into him, desperately hoping that it was some elaborate prank. “you’re sure?” He repeated. Tell me this is a lie.

"she told us both, and she's having a new crib made." Marcus nodded before he took his dragon away

It took everything in Aegon’s power not to collapse at those words. He stared at the cave that Marcus had just retreated into, trying desperately to keep his breathing steady and his mind straight. He’d just discovered that she was having another child. Another child that he’d probably fail to be a good father to. Aegon stumbled slightly out of the cave and towards a nearby wall, leaning against it for support as he forced his mind to focus. He stood against the wall, hands clenched into fists and breathing deep. Aegon could feel the panic and dread flooding through his mind, drowning out any logical thought. No. No. This time would be different. He’d promised himself so many times before that things would be different with Marcus. But it hadn’t worked before. He couldn’t even keep a goddamn promise with Marcus, and now there was a new one on the way. A new little baby that he’d likely fail to provide for. A wave of nausea crashed over Aegon, making him clutch at his stomach in an attempt to keep it down. He couldn’t go through this again. This time he’d have three children to look after, he didn’t have the energy or time to keep failing as a father. Aegon took another shaky breath, pushing away from the wall and attempting to remain upright.

He needed to talk to her.

He needed to know everything. He needed her to tell him every word she had said to the kids, every detail about this new baby.

Aegon headed back to the red keep, As he entered the library and found Y/n and Marybelle working on the embroideries, a fresh wave of panic and nausea coursed through his body. He swallowed, hoping that neither of her could see the turmoil that was raging within him. He cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice steady. “Can we… can we talk?”

"go on?" Y/n shrugged as she helped Marybelle work

Aegon hesitated, he felt oddly like a child about to confess to breaking something. With a sharp breath in he forced himself to speak. “It’s about the baby.” He said, the words feeling like lead in his mouth.

Y/n looks up at him and sighed, she did a final stitch placing the work on the table and lifting little Marybelle off the seat in her pale green dress "Run along now sweetling, go find your brother and go play in the garden Alright" she told Marybelle who happily ran off with her maids shutting the door behind them, Y/n sighed and ran a hand over her stomach "Go on Aegon."

Aegon watched as Marybelle left the room, leaving the two of them in silence. He forced his eyes back on her, staring at the hand she had placed on her stomach. His mind was racing, his heart was racing, his stomach was in knots. He wanted desperately to look away, so that he didn’t have to confront the baby that was inside her. “How… how far along are you?”

"four months"

Aegon felt his stomach twist once more at her answer, this time so violently that he was worried he might actually throw up. He took another deep shaking breath, trying desperately to calm his mind enough to figure out what to say. There were too many thoughts racing through him; anger, fear, dread, guilt. “Why?” He whispered, the word coming out more like a gasp than a question. “After everything… after the other two… why?”

"what I do with my children is my business"

Aegon bristled at her response, he didn’t like hearing those words. her children. Like he had no claim to them. He took a step closer, his hand clenching into a tight fist at his side. His eyes bore into hers, and the fear was evident in his gaze. “They’re my children too.” He muttered lowly. “I have every right to know.”

"well you know now don't you,'

Aegon felt his blood boil at her nonchalant attitude and sharp words, his fear slowly being overtaken with irritation and frustration as the two of her stared each other down. “Yes I know now! Because Marcus told me!” Aegon snapped, gesturing back at the door. “Why was I the last to know?!”

"Because your never here! You never ask! You never ask how I am, or talk to your children, or talk to me."

Aegon hated when she was right, although he would never admit that aloud. Her words stung, hitting him in a way that he wasn’t expecting. He’d only just begun to feel the weight of his absence, and now her were shoving it in his face. “I- I-“ he sputtered, trying to force the right words out. “That’s not the point. You should have told me.”

"Why would I? her have no interest in the children" she snapped "I am having another child because they make me happy. They are all I have in this world as you show me no attention or affection at all, they are all I have and without them, I would be sat alone waiting for you to wonder home drunk"

Aegon’s face fell at her words, his mind going blank as he heard her say that, It hurt worse than a punch to the gut, and made him feel a thousand times more guilty than he did before. He opened his mouth several times to say something, but each time his words got stuck in his throat and he shut his mouth with an audible click. Finally, he managed to croak out. “You… you have me.”

"do I?" She asked a tear slipping from her eyes "My husband prefers whores to his marriage bed, my husband drinks a barrel of wine a day, I never see him, we never speak, we only ever argue over his failed promises to our children”

Aegon fell speechless as he saw the tear slip from her eyes. He’d seen her cry before, of course, but never like this. This wasn’t over anger or frustration. This was pain, real pain. He wanted to go to her, to wrap his arms around her and pull her close in an attempt to fix everything. But he couldn’t bring himself to move, or even look her in the eye. Because everything she said was true. And he hated himself for it all. “I…” he muttered, trying once again to force words out of his throat. “I don’t know what to say.”

How could he defend himself against the truth? He did drink too much, he had spent more nights in brothels than he would care to count. He did fail to keep his promises to her and the children. Everything she said was completely true, and no amount of excuses could cover it up.

"you never do" she answered wiping her tears "you need not worry yourself over this baby, not like you'll care when it's born anyway"

Aegon flinched at the last part of her sentence. She was completely right. He had failed to be there for the birth of Marcus and of Marybelle, and he had failed to provide for them in the way that they deserved. And now there was another coming. Another child to make him feel even more guilty, and another child that he would fail to take care of. It was a vicious cycle that he didn’t know how to break. “That- that’s not true.” He protested weakly. “That’s not- I would care.” He muttered though he himself didn’t really believe it. There was something about seeing her there in front of him, a tear making a track down her face. Something about knowing that there was a baby inside of her, It made him feel sick to his stomach to think of how he was going to fail this baby too.

she shook her head "You need not worry over it."

“Stop saying that.” Aegon snapped, irritation bleeding into his voice. her kept telling him not to worry, telling him that everything was fine. “I can’t just not worry! There’s a baby… there’s our baby… and you keep telling me not to worry, like I don’t have to, and like everything is fine.”

"it's not your baby!"

“Excuse me?!” What did you just say? Aegon stared at her, shock and anger written all over his face. “Not my baby?” He repeated. “It’s a child that we created. It was my seed that started this child’s life. How is it, not my baby?!”

"It wasn't your seed. Aegon you haven't touched me since Marybelle was born, too busy with the whores to spend a night with your wife"

Aegon was silent after that. He couldn’t argue against it. her were once again completely right. He hadn’t touched her since before Marybelle’s birth, he could have sworn one or two nights he had made it to his marriage bed before unloading his seed and passing out but even of that he wasn’t sure, and he hadn’t given a second thought to her or how she felt about it. He’d been too focussed on the whores, the wine, his own needs. Shame and self-disgust washed over him, and he found that he couldn’t look at her for a moment. “That…” he began, trailing off as his voice grew hoarse. A wave of shame crashed over Aegon, making his stomach twist with guilt and nausea. He swallowed, his eyes dropping to the floor.

"Aegon. You are not the father of the child inside me. You haven't touched me. I know this child is not yours"

It was like a dagger through the heart. her said it so casually as if it was just a simple fact. But he heard the pain in her voice, the hurt that he’d caused by not being there for her. And he could see the truth in her eyes. He opened his mouth to argue, to defend himself and say that the child was still his. But a sick feeling of dread was already pooling in his gut as he realized the truth. He wasn’t the father of this baby. He’d made sure of that himself. Aegon’s throat felt like it was closing up again, leaving him staring at the ground, his chest heaving as he tried to keep his breathing steady. He felt weak. He felt sick. He felt guilty. “You… you slept with someone else?” He managed to force out the words, his voice low and shaking.

"you were gone. You never touched me. If you can take your nights sharing beds with a hundred common whores... I see no reason I cannot find a company of my own”

Aegon stiffened at her words, his heart twisting painfully in his chest. He was a hypocrite. How many whores had he slept with while he’d been away? More than he cared to count. And yet here he was, getting upset over her having found someone else. He didn’t know how to respond. He felt nauseous and his mouth had gone dry, but he tried to speak anyway. “Who… who was it?”

"... I ... I don't wish to tell,"

Aegon clenched his jaw at her response, irritation and anger bubbling up within him. “Why not?!” He snapped. “you just told me that the baby isn’t mine, that you’ve been with someone else. And now you’re refusing to tell me who it was?”

"what does it matter? Are you going to sit and tell me the names of every whore you've been with? Tell me each name of every bastard down silk row you've fathered? So why should I tell you"

“Because-” Aegon stopped short, his response dying on his tongue. He wanted to deny it, to insist that it did matter to him. But deep down he knew she were right. He had no right to ask her to tell him who she found comfort in. Not when he himself had bedded countless whores over the past years. His shoulders slumped in defeat, and he swallowed thickly as he tried to figure out what to say. “Because…” he began again, his voice low and shaky. “I don’t care about the whores. I would never care about them.” He took a deep breath, forcing the words out of his mouth. “Because… this is different. Because this one is different, because I… I…” He trailed off, his voice trembling as tears formed in his eyes. He’d never seen the situation from her perspective before. He’d failed her completely, and left her alone while he went off to whorehouses.

she sighed and stroked her stomach "... Jacaerys. Jacaerys Velaryon."

Aegon froze, his eyes going wide with shock. Jacaerys Velaryon.

Of all people, it had to be him. He felt his hands shaking, and his stomach threatened to upheave. He knew Jacaerys had been spending a lot of time with her, but he had just assumed it was his imagination. “Jacaerys?” He repeated, his voice a whisper. “you… you slept with… him?”

"... He was my betrothal once. Before you and I were married, Jacaerys and I were betrothed. You ignore me these days and his bride prefers the company of women... We find comfort in each other"

Aegon felt like he was going to be sick. He knew that she and Jacaerys had been betrothed. Everyone knew that. But he hadn’t considered the possibility that she would turn to him for comfort. The thought of the two of them together made his stomach churn. He couldn’t stand the thought of another man touching her, holding her, looking at her with desire in their eyes. “you’re… you’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

"how I feel about him is irrelevant. I am your wife. I am your bride. I will do my duty as long as I live. But I will find my comfort as you find yours.”

Aegon felt his heart shatter in his chest as she spoke. She was his bride, his wife, and the mother of his children. But she did not love him, not anymore. She loved Jacaerys. “Why him?” He rasped. “Why not anyone else?”

"We find comfort together, we each have a partner who doesn't care for our needs and desires. And he's always been so sweet to the children"

Aegon clenched his jaw at her words. He didn't want to hear about how Jacaerys was, how sweet and caring and loving he was. Jacaerys was everything that Aegon wasn't. He was thoughtful, he was sweet, he was kind. He didn't spend his days in brothels or drunk in taverns. Aegon wanted to say he would change, he wanted to try and make things better between the two of her. But would she even believe him anymore? Or would she run back into Jacaerys' arms the first chance she got? “Do you…” Aegon began, his voice a whisper. “Do you love him?”

He didn’t want to hear the answer. He hoped that she would say no. That she would say she didn’t love Jacaerys, and that she only found comfort in the idea of being with someone who actually cared about her. But deep down, he knew that wasn’t it. He knew she loved Jacaerys, more than she had ever loved Aegon. And the thought of that made him want to die.

"... I am your wife." She repeated,

Aegon hated that answer. It wasn’t a yes or a no. her weren’t denying it, but weren’t confirming it either. He had always prided himself on the fact that he could tell when people were lying to him, but right now she was unreadable. He gritted his teeth, his hands clenching into fists. “That’s not an answer.” He growled.

"I am your wife. And I'm here. If I didn't love you don't her think I'd have packed my things, taken the children and flown to Dragonstone to be with Jacaerys!" She shouted "But no. I am here. I am your wife. Mother to your children, your heirs. I stay. Because I love you. I have remained through the humiliation of your behaviour because I love you. I have sat here knowing there are bastards throughout this city any of which have a claim over my true-born children if you so much as legitimised them." She explained through gritted teeth "I am here because I love you. I have endured all of it because I love you."

Aegon’s face fell further as she spoke. She stayed by his side the entire way. Despite the whores, despite the bastards, her were still his wife and she’d stayed. He felt small and shamed under her gaze. her had done everything for him, she had loved him, and he hadn’t done the same for her. “Then… then why did you sleep with Jacaerys?” He mumbled, the words feeling like ash in his mouth. “If… if you love me…”

"as I said. We give each other comfort. No different from the comfort you find with your whores"

Aegon flinched at her words. He wanted to deny it, he wanted to say it wasn’t the same at all. But he knew He had no excuse, no justification for why it was different when he went to whores. His shoulders slumped and he looked at the floor, avoiding her gaze. “It’s not the same.” He mumbled weakly.

"how is it not the same? The only difference is that he doesn't throw me a gold coin when we're done"

Aegon winced. That was so much more different than he had expected. His jaw clenched and he clenched his fists, irritation sparking through him at her words. “It’s… it’s different because they’re whores.” He muttered. “They’re whores. Not… not…”

He trailed off, unable to find the words to defend himself. She was the mother of his children, his wife. His queen. Compared to them, the whores were nothing.

"not what?"

Aegon didn’t respond. He wanted to say that they meant nothing to him, that the whores were just a means to an end, just a way for him to forget his troubles for a few hours. But he knew that wasn’t true. The whores were his vices, his weakness and he’d let them take over his life. “They’re… they don’t mean anything to me.” He tried weakly. “They’re just whores, that’s it.”

"and jockeys mean nothing to me. I love you, I am your wife. We simply find comfort together when we cannot get it from our marriages"

Aegon took a deep breath and closed his eyes, her words washing over him. It was a bitter pill to swallow. He didn’t want to hear her talk about Jacaerys that way. He didn’t want to think about her spending her nights with him, finding comfort in his arms. Not when she should have been finding that comfort in his arms. “And… and is that all it is? Just… comfort?” He asked lowly, barely keeping a hint of anger from his voice.

"that is all it is. And if you had given me such comfort I would not need to see him at all"

Gods damn it. Aegon wanted to argue. He wanted to insist that he would have given her that comfort if she’d just asked him. But he knew that wasn’t true. He knew that they’d barely spoken to each other in over years, never mind sharing any sort of intimate moment. He swallowed nervously and looked down at the ground. “And if… if I started trying to give you that comfort?”

"then I would have no need to visit him"

Aegon felt a small flicker of hope at those words. If he tried, if he made an effort, then maybe she would see that she didn’t need Jacaerys in her life. That she didn’t need to cheat on him and break their marital vows. He took a shaky breath and swallowed thickly, looking up at her. “…and you would stop seeing him, then?”

"I would if you did provide the comfort you are promising... However, you have broken many promises before so... Don't assume I would trust you. And if you were to not seek comfort in your whores. Perhaps you'd have the time for your wife"

Aegon felt stung by the last part of her comment. He wanted to flinch at the thought that she didn’t trust him to give her what she needed. But why should she? He hadn’t exactly given her a reason to trust him in the past. He sighed and nodded. “I…” he began, his throat dry. “I won’t go to whores anymore. I promise.”

"words don't mean anything. Actions do" She said the same words Marcus had said to him, showing where the boy had gotten such a phrase

Aegon felt his jaw clenched at her response. He could promise and vow over and over that he would stop seeing whores, but it didn’t mean anything until he actually did it. He took a deep breath, the thought of going without a whore for that long made him shiver. But he was determined to prove to her that he meant what he said. He nodded again, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “you’re right.” He mumbled. “I… I’ll do it. No whores.”

"and so long as her see no whores I shall not see Jacaerys. At least not intimately, I may have to see him socially"

Aegon’s expression soured as she spoke. He didn’t want her seeing Jacaerys at all, no matter how “socially” it was. But he knew he didn’t have a choice in the matter. He had agreed to stop seeing whores, and she had agreed to stop being intimate with Jacaerys. He couldn’t afford to jeopardize that. He nodded again, forcing the words past his lips. “Fine. But I don’t… I don’t want her alone with him.”

"I promise I won't be alone with him, I shall only see him if social events call for it"

Aegon felt some of the tension leave his shoulders at her words. He still didn’t like the idea of her spending time with Jacaerys, social or otherwise. But as long as she promised her wouldn’t be alone with him, he could deal with it. “Fine. That’s… that’s good enough for me.”

He mumbled. “I won’t go to whores, and she won’t be alone with Jacaerys. That’s the deal.”

she nodded

Aegon clenched his fists, his knuckles going white as he tried to maintain his composure. He didn’t really want to have this conversation. The thought of discussing the child her were carrying, Jacaerys’ child, made him feel like he wanted to be sick. But he knew it was a conversation that needed to be had. “What… what do you want to do about it?” He asked, forcing the words past his dry mouth.

she shivered her hands stroking her bump "I would like to keep it, I understand if he must be treated differently, as a bastard, sent away when he's older. But I would like to keep him... unless you want me to.... rid... myself."

Aegon clenched his jaw, his eyes fixed firmly on the ground. He didn’t want the child. The thought of seeing this bastard every day, a reminder of her time with Jacaerys, was more than he could handle.

But he knew he couldn’t demand she rid herself of it. He couldn’t force her to terminate the pregnancy if she didn’t want to. He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. “Keep it, then.” He mumbled. “Raise it how you like, it’s yours.”

"Aegon, I don't want to keep it... if he will have a hellish life. if you will hate him."

Aegon shifted uncomfortably at her words. A part of him wanted to insist that he would try to love the boy. That it wasn’t the child’s fault they were a bastard, and he wouldn’t hold it against them. But another part of him knew that it wouldn’t matter. Every time he looked at the kid, he wouldn’t see anything except a reminder that she had cheated on him. He swallowed and shook his head. “I don’t think… I don’t think I’ll be able to love the child.” He mumbled quietly.

"Never?"

Aegon clenched his jaw and closed his eyes, not wanting to look at her as he spoke. “Never.” He mumbled. He hated himself for saying it. He knew the child was innocent, it wasn’t their fault they were a bastard. But he just couldn’t bring himself to love a child that would be the constant reminder of her infidelity.

"... I understand," she nodded sadly "Even if I was to have him? and send him away?"

Aegon’s heart twisted at the sadness in her tone. On one hand, at least if she sent the child away then he wouldn’t have to look at it every day. There would be no constant reminder of her infidelity, no need to try and love a child that was a product of love she gave to another.

But on the other hand, the thought of her giving up the child because he didn’t want it… it broke his heart, to think he would force her to send her child away. “Send it away when he’s born.” He mumbled.

Y/n nodded, trembling her hands on her belly as fears began to flood down her cheeks but she made no sound

Aegon felt a pang in his chest as he saw the tears begin to fall down her cheeks, his heart clenching at the sight. A part of him wanted to reach out to her, to pull her into his arms and comfort her. To tell her that he’d changed his mind, and that he’d come to love the child. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. The thought of lying to her, of saying that he could love the child just to see her smile, was too much to bear. He stood there, frozen and unable to move, as the tears continued to fall from her eyes. His chest felt tight with guilt and regret, his mind screaming at him to say something, to do something to make her smile. But he was frozen in place, forced to stand there and watch as she cried in front of him, knowing that he was the cause of it. “I… I’m…” he stammered, the words dying on his tongue. He took a step towards her, his arms itching to reach out and hold her. To pull her against him and tell her it would be alright. But he stopped himself, clenching his fists at his sides instead to stop himself from reaching out. He knew she would likely pull away if he tried to touch her. “I… I’m sorry.” He mumbled, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He didn’t know what else to say, how to comfort her.

Y/n hugged Aegon tight in her arms crying into his chest, taking comfort from him in a way she hadn't done before in their marriage, and it became clear to Aegon just how much she loved her baby, just how much comfort she needed and how little he had given her

Aegon froze as she hugged him, her arms wrapped tight around him. It was the first time in months, maybe even years that she had hugged him, He slowly wrapped his arms around her in return, his heart twisting at the way she trembled against him. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her so vulnerable before.

"Is there anything I could do... that you would let me keep him here with me?"

Aegon swallowed and closed his eyes, his arms tightening around her. she trembled in his arms he realised the truth… there was one thing she could do. He took a deep breath and leaned his head down, his cheek resting against the top of her head. His heart thumped loudly in his chest, guilt and excitement battling inside him. “There is something you could do.” He mumbled against her hair, his grip on her waist tightening slightly.

When she nodded to indicate that she was listening, Aegon took another deep breath and continued with a low voice.

“I… I would allow her to keep the child here with you…” he began, before pausing to gather his thoughts. “If… if her promise to never see Jacaerys again. Or… or anyone else.”

"I promise, I promise on the lives of all my children"

Aegon felt his breath catch in his throat as she made the promise.

A part of him was still fearful, still waiting for the moment she would go behind his back and continue her affair with Jacaerys. But another part of him, a deeper part, desperately hoped that she was telling the truth. That she would allow him a second chance. That she would stay faithful to him from now on. He nodded and exhaled shakily. “I… I believe you.” He mumbled.

"Thank you Aegon," She nodded giving his forehead a soft kiss, and hugging him tight

Aegon tensed slightly as she kissed his forehead, his heart thundering in his chest.

He couldn’t remember the last time she had kissed him, Even before the affair, she had never been the most affectionate partner. He hadn’t known how much he’d missed those little acts until they were gone. He held her tightly in his arms, revelling in the feeling of her in his embrace. He buried his face down into the crook of her neck, his arms tightening around her. He inhaled deeply, taking in the familiar scent of lavender and lemon that surrounded her. He hadn’t realised how much he’d missed her scent until now. After a moment of holding her in his arms, Aegon finally spoke. “We should eat,” he mumbled into her neck. “you and the baby need nourishment.”

she nodded and wiped away her tears "Would... would you carry me? like you used to when we first got married? When I was pregnant with Marcus?"

Aegon’s breath hitched as she asked him to carry her, his grip on her tightening slightly. The memories her request stirred up were almost painful to think about. The early days of their marriage where they had been happy and in love, before the years had dulled the feelings and led to the situation they were in now. He nodded without hesitation. “Of course.” He mumbled, crouching down and sliding his arms underneath her, lifting her up into his arms with ease He held her close, his arms wrapped around her body carefully. He was suddenly reminded of the times when he would carry her like this when she was pregnant earlier in the marriage, how his heart would ache with love and pride at knowing her were carrying his child. Now, holding her in his arms and feeling the now familiar, but unwanted, bump bump against his chest, Aegon felt none of that love or pride. Just anger, sorrow and bitterness.

Y/n smiled and cuddled up to Aegon as he carried her giving his cheek a kiss as he carried her though the castle, "I really do love you Aegon, truly,"

Aegon felt his breath catch in his throat as she spoke, her words taking him by surprise. He didn’t think he had the right to hear those words anymore. Not after how many times he had driven her to tears. He swallowed heavily and held her tighter, forcing his voice to work. “you… you do? Even… even after everything?”

she nodded

Aegon continued carrying her in his arms, still somewhat in disbelief that she could still say that she loved him. He exhaled shakily and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. “And… and I love you too.”

[johnpriceslamb]

I feel like having a hyper fem!reader would be really useful when it comes to cons and scams. Charm = Money

The image of going to any town and just absolutely leaving peoples pockets dry just by being a pretty doll they think they can play with when in truth you’re the one playing them. Arthur Morgan in the corner making sure nothing goes south yet getting a bit jealous of the men getting robbed.

caution !! mini babble , hyper-fem reader as usual -.- arthur being a bit jealous is a bit of an understatement ;3 , > 100 wordiez

⊹₊ ⋆ you were pretty .

too pretty, in fact— it makes Arthur’s blood boil .

How could Dutch ever think that this was a good idea to scheme money ? Sure, it was working — and sure, this was the most money they’ve gotten in a day, but … the way you looked at those bastards was similar to the way you look at him is making a vein pop in his head.

Long, dewy lashes tipped with puppy-like eyes — hot damn you were too pretty, it’s making his irritation very evident. He narrows his eyes at the way you presented yourself to those pigs, a soft click to the tongue which quietly drowns out immediately because of the constant chattering amongst the bar. He has to force himself to look away, otherwise he’ll end up dragging a man by the ear for even looking your way. Damnit he’s looking your way again and-

Ah. There she was. pixie-like hands ever so sneakily coming from behind and dragging that delicious looking wallet out of the man’s pockets and into hers. Though you looked innocent with all those laces ‘n bows, you were a bit too sneaky for his liking sometimes. Reason being is the amount of shirts borrowed (stolen) off of him and into your hand.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t that bad of an idea but still.

“— I really must be going.. ‘m afraid the bow in my hair is about to fall ! Give me a minute to adjust this silly thing now, will you ?” Feigning panic of a girl wanting to keep their appearance pristine and delicate, your attempts are futile as the man whom you’ve pickpocketed unconsciously grabs your hand from behind at a painful grip, “But sugar, your hair looks fine—”

You shoot Arthur the look.

You dont dare mention to the man in front of you the way Arthur is striding towards him at a quick pace with his hand curled into a tight fist.

[italiansteebie]

so the thing is.

steve really really wants this teddy bear.

he was never allowed stuffed animals as a child and had taken it upon himself to build that collection and nurture that part of him. and he's got quite a few now, most of them sit in his closet, save for a few under his bed for easy access, but he keeps them hidden.

because if anyone saw them, if the kids saw them, well. then he'd have to explain. and then it'd go from a funny "make fun of steve" moment to a "steve had a horrible childhood" moment.

so he hides them.

but not as well as he thought.

because eddie has seen the fuzzy little creatures in passing. seen their heads poking out from under his covers, caught glimpses of them tucked away in steve's closet.

and he thought it was cute.

he knew steve didn't have a great childhood, and hey. the guy deserved some soft things in life. eddie too, had some stuffed animals smooshed in with his bedding. so sue him, he likes to be cozy, and those little guys make him comfy.

and he too saw the teddy bear.

and saw the way steve looked at it.

it was pretty cute, eddie has to admit. it was a pretty big bear, soft pink, with a little white bow around its neck.

it was much more... childlike. than steve's others.

but.

the way steve looked at it. it was like he was watching a soldier come home from war. breifly eddie wonders if it looked like something from when steve was a kid, but he didn't delve deeper. he'd make himself too sad.

so he made a plan.

---

steve would never admit it, but he was heartbroken, having to leave that teddy bear like that.

but he was with the kids.

and robin.

and eddie.

and he couldn't exactly just go buy it. he couldn't give his usual excuse that it was a gift for the kids if the kids were with him, it just wouldn't work.

so he gave it up.

but it didn't stop him from thinking about it.

it just looked so soft. and maybe he was touched starved, and maybe this was his way of solving that. and maybe that wasn't "healthy." but it worked for him. and damnit. steve wanted that goddamn teddy bear.

it had been 2 days since steve saw the bear, and it was still knocking around in his mind. so he decided to go and get it. he had the plot in his head, it was a gift for holly wheeler if anyone saw him, and yes, he would like it gift wrapped please and thank you. and so he brushed his hair, and grabbed his keys.

and he swung open the door and came face to face with none other than eddie munson, bag in hand, fist raised, ready to knock.

"hey eds! i was just about to go get... uh. i. run some errands..." steve cringed at the awkward sentence, luckily for him, eddie paid it no mind.

"steve! can i come in? let's hang!" eddie left no room for an answer and pushed his way past steve into the large house.

"wh- eddie! i was about to leave," and he did not whine. he didn't.

"too bad, steve-o. i already ordered the pizza!"

"you pre ordered a pizza? to my house?"

"yeah. now come sit. put on a movie."

and well. steve relented, eddie wormed his way into his home and his heart and so what if he had a crush on the metal head. he was just a boy! he was allowed to have crushes, okay, robin?

so he sat.

and put on a movie.

and the pizza got there.

and they ate.

the sun was going down, and steve's eyes were slipping closed in the peace when eddie jumped up. "i almost forgot!"

steve jolted, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "what?"

"i got you a present," eddie sang, waving the bag steve had spotted when he first got to his house. steve eyed him suspiciously, "what is it?" he questioned, reaching towards the bag.

"just open it steve!" eddie said, flopping back down on the couch, kicking his feet as he watched steve.

steve pulled back the tissue paper, and caught just a glimpse of the soft pink fur, and he stopped. "eddie..." he whispered, tears welling up in his eyes. "open it up, stevie." eddie encouraged gently.

steve pulled the bear from the bag, "oh my god," he whispered, brushing a hand over the bears head, before squeezing it against his chest, eyes shut tightly, tears streaming down his cheeks.

eddie smiled, placing a gentle hand on steve's shoulder.

"thank you, how- how did you know?"

"i saw you looking at it. i couldn't just let you leave it."

"eddie..."

steve sighed gently, eyes shining, peering up at eddie through his eyelashes, "i can't tell you how much i appreciate this." and with that he threw his arms around the metal head, the teddy bear squished in between them. steve pulled away, eyes locking with eddie's.

"steve, can- i hope what i'm about to ask doesn't... ruin anything, i just. can i kiss you?"

"please," steve breathed, lips meeting and eyes fluttering closed. it was soft, and sweet, and it felt like... home. eddie pulled away, steve letting out a soft whine as he does. eddie cupped his face, letting his thumb run gently over the softness of steve's cheek.

"i have wanted to do that since you carried me out of hell."

"i'm happy you didn't wait any longer because i've been wanting to kiss you since you had that bottle pressed against my neck."

"stevie, so scandalous." eddie gasped, giggling in unison with steve.

the fluffy hair boy stood, grabbing eddie's hand and pulling him with him. "i wanna show you something."

steve led eddie through the house, quiet before coming to a door, "this was my nonna's room, when she would come to visit. it didn't happen that often. but i loved it when she was here. she taught me how to cook, how to speak italian. she was my best friend for a really long time." steve spoke softly, trailing around the now plain room. eddie followed him, hanging onto his every word. they stopped in front of an old photo.

there was a young woman, holding a bear that looked very similar to the one he had just bought steve. "this is my nona when she was young. and that... that was her friend. i always called him bobbie. i don't... know why, but that was his name. and she brought him every time she visited. but she always took it home... because she knew my dad would take it away," steve's voice cracked, and eddie wrapped his arms around him, showing his support.

"she was buried with him. and. i lost two friends that day."

eddie moved to hug steve from the front, letting him bury his head in his neck. "i'm sorry you lost them, stevie."

steve pulled away slightly, "you brought them back." he whispered. and it felt like a confession of something more serious. and eddie was all in.

they shared another soft kiss, sealing in the beginning of something beautiful.

that night they slept in the same bed, the soft pink bear wedged between them.

[heartlesscorpse]

Pyramid Head thoughts 2🩸🔪 △

MORE PYRAMID HEAD BRAINROT WOOHOOO— Hell yeah brother. Anyways OH MY GOD I was getting pissed off from this app bc I couldn’t edit this when I had it in my drafts for some strange reason BUT IT’S ALL WORKING FINE NOW. Yay. I’ve also been slowly chipping away at my Pyramid Head x reader recently for the past few weeks and it’s coming along smoothly (surprisingly), hopefully today or so it’ll all be finished and I can polish it for any mistakes or typos I accidentally made then it’ll be tossed onto AO3. :))))))

It’s difficult having to be roaming about Silent Hill knowing that he now has a companion of his own to keep company in this shit hole, it’s a nice thought but now there’s the hassle with keeping an eye on you at all times.

Man loves you but you gotta fuckin’ STOP disappearing from his sight whenever he looks away from you.

Stop getting into trouble damnit it’s a good thing he’d been stalking you the whole time but seriously you’re gonna give him a tiny heart attack if you keep doing this. >:(

This is why he ends up having to carry you around wherever he goes because you can’t slip out from his grasp and it’s easier this way to prevent you from running off.

Honestly, whenever Pyramid Head’s injured he’s not even gonna understand why you’re looking like you’re on the verge of bawling your eyes out.

‘Tis but a flesh wound’

But he’ll play along anyways if you were really worried and wanted to help him with injuries.

And he obviously enjoys the attention from you. :))

Cuddles 24/7, if you’re tired just take a break someplace safe and he’ll let you curl up in a ball in his hold, bc he absolutely adores having you in his arms.

Despite Pyramid Head not able to talk at all he does like hearing some of your rambles from time to time considering you’re the most talkative one between the both of you.

Pyramid Head likes giving you some small shiny little trinkets every now and then as small presents, bc you’re his and why the hell not shower you with some things every now and then?? He would’ve come back from patrolling around the town with some things like quarters, some pieces of jewelry, or weird little trinkets like teeth or small animal skulls, and those kinds of things if you’re into that.

He also likes receiving a few small gifts from you every now and then as well. Small things like little paper cranes or also some weird little trinkets you’ve been finding around Silent Hill, mainly bones, and you would craft into little charms. Gifts from either him or you would’ve all went into some ragged satchel you found so you could carry them with you at all times and you wouldn’t lose them.

🥩⋆♱✮♱⋆🔪 🩸

[bizarrelittlemew]

going down (with the ship)

[ explicit, s1e4 canon-divergent, Ed/Stede, ao3 ]

"It's September 1st, boss." "What's that, mate?" "It's September the 1st." "Dickfuck, no it's not."

Turns out it is. Dickfucking damnit.

And now Ed is lying spread out on the sofa in the captain's cabin, drinking brandy straight from the bottle and waiting for the sea to take him. At least it's some damn smooth brandy. All things considered, not the worst thing to be the last thing to taste on this Earth.

Unless—

Well. Ever since seeing him naked when they switched clothes earlier, Ed had kinda started to hope that he'd get a taste of Stede Bonnet at some point. Hadn't planned on bringing it up this early, though. He hasn't even had time to plan how he'd go about that. And he likes a good plan.

But plans have already betrayed him tonight, and if they're going down with the ship anyway, what's the harm in asking?

Now he just needs a smooth opener.

"Have you ever tried fellatio?"

Or, like, dive right in.

Stede looks up. Looks somewhere between surprised, bemused, and curious, but not horrified. That's something.

"You mean sucking dick?"

"Whuh—" Ed nearly chokes on that, like he'd like to choke on—anyway, he clears his throat. Did not expect that from this fancy man. Promising, though. "I mean, yeah. Yep. Or like, getting your dick sucked."

"Can't say I have, no. Unfortunately."

"Unfortunately?"

"Unfortunately."

They let that hang in the air for a bit, just looking at each other.

"Well... uhm. Do you wanna?" Real smooth, Teach.

Stede's lips curl into a slightly nervous but mostly excited smile.

"I guess there's no time like the present."

"Not much time at all, mate."

And the nervousness completely dissipates, replaced by sheer eagerness as Stede nearly trips over himself in his haste to get out of his arm chair, falls to the floor, walks on his knees to Ed's side, and starts unbuttoning the fall front on his breeches before Ed can catch up to what is happening.

"Wow, hey, I meant—you know what, never mind." Ed is not going to protest if Stede really wants to suck his dick, even if he imagined it the other way around, and damn, it seems that Stede really, really wants to suck his dick. He wonders if all fancy, rich lads are this hungry for cock. Maybe that's why they're like that.

Maybe not. Ed gets a feeling that Stede is different.

Different from anyone else who has ever touched Ed's dick before, too, and oh god, Stede is touching—licking his dick, sucking the head into his mouth and moaning, going at it as if Ed's cock contains the secret that might save them all if only Stede can suck it out.

Ed groans and buries his fingers into Stede's hair just as he starts bobbing his head, making up for any lack of finesse with pure enthusiasm, and okay, Ed is more than a bit bitter about this being his last night alive, because if this is Stede's baseline, Ed would've liked to be along for the ride while Stede developed his skill to its full potential.

Too bad that it will all be ending too soon—their lives, and the glorious experience of stuffing Stede's face full of his cock, because the way Stede closes his eyes and sucks around him is rapidly drawing Ed closer to the edge.

He only just manages to warn Stede before he comes, tries tugging at his hair to let him know he might want to pull off, but Stede just hums with encouragement and takes him deeper.

If this is to be his last orgasm, he might have found peace with his fate.

"Jesus fucking Christ." Ed slumps, staring up at the ceiling, then takes a swig of the bottle still in the hand he isn't using to pet Stede's head. He is just about ready for the sea to swallow him up like Stede just swallowed him down.

And yet.

Ed got a good look at Stede's equipment earlier, and he's still determined to get the close-up experience. Also, there is a sizeable bulge at the front of Stede's—Ed's—pants, and if Stede comes in his leathers, it will sort of suck to clean them up later. In case there is a 'later', if they somehow miraculously escape this.

"Alright, c'mere." Ed pats his chest.

"What?"

"Come up here, fuck my face."

"Are you—what?" Stede looks like one big question mark, but despite that, he is already climbing onto the sofa above Ed, knees on either side of his shoulders.

"C'mon, we don't have much time."

Stede opens the fall front, letting his cock spring free. Ed licks his lips.

"Maybe I can choke to death on cock before the Spanish get me."

"Let's try to avoid that, shall we?"

Ed is not sure he agrees, and shows it by grabbing Stede's hips and shoving him forward, taking in as much as he can of it in one go, which turns out to be half of it. Stede's yelp turns into a groan, and he quickly gets the picture, soon thrusting into Ed's mouth with rough abandon. He turns out to be even more of a natural at face-fucking than cock-sucking.

Yup, this is a much better last thing to taste (and fill his throat). Only surpassed by the last last thing, the taste of Stede as he coats his tongue with come. Ed doesn't even get emotional over the sweet things Stede babbles as he comes, all while stroking Ed's cheek with his thumb.

Okay, maybe he gets a little emotional. Mostly sad that he doesn't have time to do this, like, five hundred times more. At least.

As Stede sits heavily on Ed's chest, catching his breath, still mumbling something, Ed blinks and turns his head to the side. Catches sight of the thing Stede had been sitting with in the chair, the thing he dropped in his rush to get on his knees by Ed's side.

"What's that painting?"

[alittlebitofloveliness]

More Darry Curtis headcanons

-Goes to every single parent/teacher interview night or open house at Ponyboy’s school, even if he has to take off work. Part of it is because he’s determined to be a good guardian but part of it is because he just proud of Pony and likes hearing from teachers how great he is

-Speaking of how great Pony is, Darry brags about Pony SO much. Like his work crew and the gang never stop hearing about how great the kid is…except when the kid is present. Then you couldn’t get a compliment out of him if you pried his jaw open

-He and Sodapop both have a soft spot for soap operas and watch them together super late at night so no one else in the gang- Pony included- will find out. (Steve caught them once but he just sat down quietly, waving away their hasty attempts to explain themselves, muttering for them to shut up, and that he used to watch them with his mom when she was still around. The three of them finished the episode and went to bed without saying anything else.)

-Loves music of all kinds (I just know he’d be one of those guys that is SO into music history and makes it everyone else’s problem) “did you know this song was meant to be an apology to-“ “-to some random broad, we know Dar, now shut up would ya?”

-Is left handed

-He and Two-bit butt heads quite a bit but he’s also closer to Two than almost anyone else in the gang because they’re the closest in age. They have so many inside jokes that the rest of the gang gets confused because Two can sometimes get him to snicker from seemingly innocuous remarks that aren’t funny to anyone but Darry

-Has dragged Soda (and Steve by extension) away from Buck’s too many times to count and is pissed every time

-Worries the whole time when he goes on ski trips with his old buddies. He worries a lot anyway, but it’s always worse when he’s too far from home to get there immediately  if something happened. Both Soda and Pony know this so they’re actually better behaved when he’s gone than when he isn’t

-Speaking of the ski trips, he always comes back glowing, for once looking his age, so the gang encourages him to go as much as possible. They have to be subtle about it though, because he gets suspicious that they’re planning something if they make it too obvious they’re trying to get him to leave, and then there’s no way in hell he’ll go

-Loves rodeos but unlike Soda has never and never wanted to participate in one

-Mother's day and father's day are contentious days in the Curtis house ever since the accident, so Soda and Pony just designated a random day as 'Darry Day" and got him little gifts, and did all the housework because they really do appreciate everything he does for them. Darry was super touched and vehemently denies tearing up when he saw the card Pony made for him

-His bond with Tim Shepard is hard for the gang, Darry himself, and even Tim to figure out, but it’s very strong despite how little they actually interact

-Despite refusing to ever go to the hospital, he’s actually the absolute worst patient when he’s sick. It takes a lot for him to admit that he’s ill, but once he does he’s absolutely insufferable. Pony and Soda takes turns taking care of him because they’re both liable to lose their temper if they have to do it for too long without a break. (“Soda my head hurts” “I know Darry” “Soda I need a glass of water” “you have a glass of water” “but Soda it’s not cold” “I got you a new one five minutes ago” “but Soda it warmed up” “damnit! Pony tag in, you deal with him, I need a smoke” “Pony I’m dying” “you’re not dying Dar” “yes I am” "no you're not")

-He’s a super fast walker. Like, anyone shorter than him has to jog a lil to catch up

-He’s a cat person. Pony and Soda are both dog people, and it has caused more than one argument despite the fact they have no pets and couldn’t afford  one even if they could agree on what they wanted

-He and Soda definitely made a secret handshake when they were little, and he still remembers every single move of it even though they haven’t done it in years and he isn’t sure if Soda even remembers making it

[fantasyinallforms]

✨I did some practice writing angry consort Bilbo, and it didn't turn out half bad. Slightly cracked and a tad occ for Thranduil but it felt good enough to share. 1.1k words. ✨ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bilbo lunged at Thranduil. 

"What is this!" He shouted, clutching a wrinkled piece of parchment in his hands. Things had been so calm. Years of quiet interrupted only by minor disagreements that were always resolved peacefully, but what he held in his hand at present was slander. 

Thorin caught him around the waist before he could connect, and Bilbo fought him like a caged cat, tears of frustration and hurt in his eyes. 

"I had your back! I offered you, counsel! I defended you against others who looked to sow discord between our people! Was this what you thought of me the whole time?" Bilbo had never been this angry. Not at Lily Bottoms for stealing his tart recipe, not at the page who ruined an entire nearly finished book with a dropped bottle of ink, not even at Lobelia for stealing his mother's silver spoons. 

He kicked and demanded that Thorin release him, putting weight behind his attempts, but his husband never let go, only tucking his nose into his hair with a whisper of apology. 

"Was it because our friendship started with dishonesty? Something I needlessly apologized for and made right time and time again? LOOK AT ME, DAMNIT!" Bilbo screamed, and finally, the elven king looked at him with a hint of shame in his eyes. 

"I had not thought through my actions or my words," Thranduil replied, unusually cowed by the sight of his rage yet still his eyes were callous. 

"How very evident," Bilbo sneered. "You have always seen conspiracy where none existed. All I did was try to warn you. I tried to counsel you when I knew others wouldn't. You surround yourself with those who revere you and will not hold a mirror to your actions. Anyone who doesn't see you in that light, you outcast." 

"I never asked for your opinions. I simply sought to share the stresses of leading my people without unsolicited advice." Thranduil shot back 

"You never had to ask! Has the definition of friendship strayed in the last 8000 years? I saw your mind swaying dangerously. It was my duty to say something. You are a leader. There is always more than just yourself at stake. If that burden of responsibility has grown too much, then hand the crown to Legolas and be done with it!" 

"You say that there is no conspiracy, yet there you hold the evidence that there are plenty I can not trust." Thranduil spat.

Bilbo balled up the parchment still in his hand and threw it at Thranduil's feet. He was no longer fighting to get his hands on the elf king's person, but Thorin still stood by his side like a ridged statue, his hand on his arm in comfort. He knew Thorin only held him back for his own sake. He wouldn't let him react out of anger, knowing he would regret his action later as much as he might want to let Bilbo blacken an elven eye. 

"I hold this in my hand because I earned the loyalty of the people closest to me. You should have known Bard was honorable, that his conscience would not have let your words go unchallenged. That you would take my kindness and twist it into animosity tells me more than I cared to know. More than that, in the months since I sent you my letter of warning, you acted as though nothing was amiss, sending correspondence and even asking for my opinion as you always have. By spreading these lies, you would seek to shatter the very peace you helped build!" 

"What am I getting out of any of this other than responsibility? I watch from The Greenwood as Dale and Erebor grow in power. None of that prosperity comes my way. You, and those like you seek to take from me all I have built and make me an outcast in lands I have inhabited far longer. I know it in my heart." 

Many times over the years, he worried about Thranduil. Time and stress burdened people in different ways; it mattered not the race they came from. Thorin, Thranduil, and even Lord Elrond had faced hard lives and the same water that softened potatoes hardened eggs. It didn't make the bitter sting of betrayal taste any better. Thranduil should know better, and Bilbo wondered if he was saying that because, to some extent, he always put elves on a pedestal, and to see one act as such was a hard truth that could not be veiled once revealed. Age and intelligence were no measure of wisdom. How do you change someone's mind when they refuse to see past their own version of the truth? 

"You betrayed my trust. You spoke ill of me behind my back and tried to get my friends to think less of me. You would attempt to alienate me from a community that you know sustains me to sate your own vanity. For what? The crime of caring about you, caring about your future! I can tolerate hate and vitriol said to my face, but I can't abide words said behind my back. Trust, once broken, is hard to get back." Bilbo held in the chest-wrenching sobs that lingered underneath his anger. It was a hurt that would sit in his chest for some time after Thranduil returned to his home.

"Then what of this community you claim exists between the elves, men, and dwarves? Even if I made amends, is this to be the end of our friendship?" Thranduil's face was unreadable, and Bilbo wanted to slap him. The bastard couldn't even apologize, not that he had expected one. 

I will not disparage you to others or vilify you further than whatever damage your pettiness has done by itself. I have only ever wanted to build a time of peace where we can trade and practice our crafts. I will not let you steal that vision from me. Dissent would only lead to war, and I have no interest in tearing the lives of my people apart. As far as our friendship, that is to be determined by you and what actions will take from here. Any words you could share beyond that mean little.” 

Everyone in the room seemed to understand that the end of his sentence marked the end of the conversation. Bilbo turned and sank into Thorin's waiting arms, letting his husband do the work of keeping him upright. 

"And Thranduil," Bilbo called, still not looking at him. "Take the soured gift you brought with you. I'm beginning to find your generosity inconsistent." ~~~

(At several points Tumblr auto-correct tried to change Thranduil's name to tranquil and taquito. I find this hilarious)

[falling-star-cygnus]

somebody reblogged my appleradio post and tagged it as "not a ship" ...

anyway, budding qpr Lucifer and Alastor because i love them :D Duckie Deer pt.1 {pt.2}

{Lucifer is hunched over his new desk in Charlie's hotel, his grin bordering on maniacal as he puts the finishing touches on his newest rubber duck. In a flourish, he holds the little thing high- or as high as he can feasibly reach anyway- in the air}

"Now presenting..."

{The King of Hell pauses for dramatic effect, despite not actually having any audience except the judgmental stares of his scattered ducks}

"The Wendigo Peace-Offering Red Radio Rubber Duck! ...That switches hands!"

{Lucifer grins a bit more genuinely as the little thing teleports from one hand to the other, twisting into the shadows between his fingers and out to his palm. The more tolerable version of it's intended recipient, he thinks}

{For the sake of Charlie, he had begrudgingly decided to try and befriend the agitating Radio Demon. After all, if they were going to be sharing the space here for the foreseeable future it only made sense for them to get along, right? Or at the very least, try to tolerate each other}

{And what better way to do that then with a rubber duck?}

"Heh heh heh..."

{The king chucks the duck at the door}

"Who am I kidding, nobody wants a rubber duck look-a-like. That's weird, it's a weird gift!"

{As Lucifer rants, he fails to notice the rubber contraption nailing the object of his ire in the forehead. It bounces with a squeak into red tipped hands}

"I'd argue talking to yourself is weirder, your highness."

{That familiar mocking drawl and static covering, the sarcasm on his title, it causes the king to whirl around. Alastor is indeed standing in front of his door, pinching the horn of the duck between his claws with a raised eyebrow}

"Alastor! Just the annoy- uh- just the demon I wanted to see. At this exact moment. ...How much of that did you hear?"

{Smooth. Totally nailed that.}

{One of the hair tufts upon Alastor's head twitches in his direction, confirming Lucifer's suspicion that they were, in fact, ears. It's embarrassing how much effort it takes to stifle the coo that wants to erupt from him at the subconscious movement}

{He has a feeling the Radio Demon wouldn't take kindly to it}

"Hm... Is there any particular reason for this... look-a-like, as you called it? I can't imagine anyone in either of circles would appreciate a duck of my visage."

{Oh good. So just the last part, then. He could still salvage this}

"It's for you!"

{…Damnit.}

{Lucifer sounded too eager. Waaay too eager, actually, if Alastor's steadily raising eyebrow was anything to go by. The king clears his throat}

"Ahem. Uh- it's for you, actually. A peace offering! Since we're going to be around each a lot more often, I figured- well, we might as well try to get along- right? For Charlie's sake. Not- not because you're tolerable. Or because I like you. Heh. No."

{The deer demon blinks slowly, raising the rubber duck up to his eye by it's horn. His perpetual smile- seriously, is that thing stitched on or something? -looks painfully strained.}

"Is that so?"

{His voice is less staticky then usual, which encourages the King to keep going. Lucifer nearly lunges forward, grabbing Alastor's hands and adjusting the duck to rest in one of the Radio Demon's palms}

{He feels a little bad for the flinch and hitch if static that comes with it, but he ignores it for Alastor's sake. He'd like a comment about that even less then a comment about his adorable ears}

"What are you do-" "It switches hands!"

{Alastor quiets at that, his glare softening just slightly around the edges with a blink. Again, Lucifer takes the small allowance and runs with it. He uses his thumbs to push against the joint of Alastor's fingers, furthering flattening his palms; an awkward laugh spills from him}

"Hah- Give it a try! Just- think about it switching and-"

{The duck slinks into Alastor's other palm before the king can finish his sentence. It goes back and forth a few times, filling the deer's eyes with a sense of unguarded wonder that has Lucifer's breath hitching}

{It's gone as soon as Alastor remembers his company}

{The Radio Demon pulls his hands away from Lucifer's, keeping the duck tucked securely in his hand. The king tries not to mourn the loss, both of his surprisingly warm fingers and of the glimpse into his head Lucifer was so graciously privy to today}

{Baby steps, he reminds himself. Something dangerously hopeful stirs in his chest}

"I see..."

{Alastor looks, on some level, like he's lost his footing. He came in here expecting to trade insults like usual, no doubt, especially after getting bonked with a rubber duck of all things upon entering}

{And instead he's left cradling a gift made in his image}

"Well! It'd certainly be rude to refuse such a thoughtful gift from his majesty. Even if it's a silly one."

{It's a feeble attempt at regaining control at best, they both know it. Lucifer sticks his hand out with a flat expression.}

"If you don't like it, give it back."

{Alastor's smile tightens, just like his grip on his rubber duck}

"Now, now, I just said it'd be rude to refuse. Surely your manner aren't lowering themselves to your height?"

{And just like that, normalcy is restored as Lucifer sputters at the jab. The king stomps forward, maybe childishly but no one who matters is around to judge him-}

"What did you even come up here for? If I recall, your 'radio tower' is on the other side of the other side of the-"

{The deer demon had stepped on a wild rubber duck in his subtle attempt to keep distance between them and with a burst of static, Alastor had begun to fall backwards}

{Lucifer acts on instinct and summons his cane,- he's pushed his luck with touch already today- bracing it behind the wendigo's back.}

{It leaves the two in an... awkward situation to say the least. Alastor's long legs pulled out from under him and his lanky torso held up purely by the thin rod of his staff.}

{It leaves Lucifer looking down for once to make eye contact}

"...who's the short one now?"

{Alastor melts into shadows, still holding the rubber duckie look-a-like in one hand as he reappears behind the king. He can feel the radio demon's hand on his collar preventing him from falling flat on his face.}

"Still you, my friend."

{...friend. Lucifer could get used to that.}

[roguelov]

Hello love I got some Morpheus ideas for you. What era form (Like 1389, 1489, 1589, 1689, 1789, 1889 or his current form) would Morpheus change into for a family reunion? Maybe to even tease the reader since they love all of his appearances. (My personal favorite is the 1689)

Like his S/o has a family reunion and Morpheus is in his clingy state (Maybe the Reader is pregnant) and doesn't want to leave the reader's side. The reader may not want to force Morpheus to go with them due to his past in the waking world. Though Morpheus the ever so sweet, clingy, protective, being he is wanted to go since this would be the first time he meets the reader's whole family and the reader's parents maybe a second or third time. Readers' parents love him.

Maybe have the reunion on a ranch and both Morpheus and Reader go horseback riding together and Reader's mom takes sneaky pictures of the two being cutes. Maybe the end Reader tells their whole family that they're expecting a bun in the oven.

My poor heart this is so cute

Dream can wear whatever he wants because like you said he always looks good. Maybe he does a combo to impress your parents of like the button up from the 1800s and the coat from the present (aka I want this man in a button up and rolled up sleeves looking like a snack at the reunion). The moment this man steps out of the bathroom and you’re just staring he smirks and strolls up to you whispering ‘you like what you see, my dear?’ (And maybe just maybe a lil fun time before the reunion 🤭 or at least a promise of fun when you get home)

ALSO all your cousins and aunts and uncle are so in shock and whispering about your boyfriend (and possibly soon to be fiancé) and they definitely are smiling and giggling to themselves as Morpheus hovers closely around you. They all are placing bets on when Morpheus will pop the question and your mom is so in on the bet. Maybe your extended family pull Morpheus into their conversations and start joking with him and he wears a smile small happy to be included

If it’s on the ranch and your mom takes pics of you and Morpheus on horseback those pics will be used in future wedding photos (Morpheus knows what your mom did and will secretly ask her for the pics which she happily gives him a copy)

And if there is a bun in the oven all your family are screaming with joy (with money being passed around in the background because damnit how did your cousin know you were expecting) then cue your family wanting to throw you a baby shower

[merchantarthurn]

Do you ever just think about how Qifrey isn't the typical "woe is me, im a piteous creature, don't look at me I'm a monster" but instead is like "I'm angry I'm so fucking angry I'm going to cling to my loved ones until my fingers stop working and I am blisteringly ANGRY that they took my whole life from me. They will regret it, I will make them"

What really drives the pain of that in is he found out what happened to him and probably realised what WOULD happen to him when he was a teenager but he chose to live the life he wanted to live for as long as he could because damnit he's got to at least have his present if they're taking the past and future

[scoobydoodean]

Looking at your recent posts/reblogs has reminded me of how much I hate the conversation between Dean and Bobby at the beginning of 4.22 when Dean is trying to deal with the fact that Sam has chosen to trust Ruby instead of him, when Dean can see that he’s obviously being manipulated, and, in response, Bobby just says

You stupid, stupid son of a bitch! Well, boo hoo, I am so sorry your feelings are hurt, princess! Are you under the impression that family's supposed to make you feel good?! Bake you an apple pie, maybe? They're supposed to make you miserable! That's why they're family!

and I feel like that line just summarizes how so many people view Dean both in the show & in discourse about it: that whenever he’s upset by something someone does, he’s being overdramatic, and the tension it creates is his fault for not just accepting that his loved ones will make him miserable.

(& the context of the quote is kind of the perfect example of this because Dean has spent the whole season trying to deal with his own trauma from hell & the fact that the angels won’t leave him alone while also continually giving Sam chances to be upfront about what’s going on with him and trying to warn him that Ruby is manipulating him into doing what she wants, and when that tension finally breaks because Sam refuses to believe—or even consider—any of Dean’s suspicions about Ruby, Dean is basically told by Bobby that he should just let it go)

I agree with you—and that speech is absolute trash.

To frame Bobby's reaction here a little, he and Dean have some conversations in 4.21 and 4.22 that I think leave Bobby pretty unsettled. I think his emotional reaction is driven by that.

In 4.21, Dean and Bobby don't see things the same way when it comes to Sam's demon blood detox and they also disagree on Dean intending to sacrifice himself by signing himself over to the angels to protect Sam. So I'd say leading into 4.22, Bobby is already apprehensive about Sam and Dean both being killed. We know he didn't weather Dean's death at the end of season 3 well.

In 4.22, right before Bobby blows up at him, Dean is also jumping to some conclusions about his relationship with Sam that are pretty extreme.

DEAN No, damnit! No. I gotta face the facts. Sam never wanted part of this family. He hated this life growing up. Ran away to Stanford first chance he got. Now it's like déjà vu all over again. Well, I am sick and tired of chasing him. Screw him, he can do what he wants. BOBBY You don't mean that. DEAN Yes I do, Bobby. Sam's gone. He's gone. I'm not even sure if he's still my brother anymore. If he ever was.

I think Dean having to work through thoughts like this is understandable given probably less than 24 hours ago, Sam was strangling him unconscious in absolutely seething rage, had spent the entirety of the season lying to Dean and then getting indignant when Dean caught on, and reiterated the incredibly damaging things he said about Dean's hell trauma from 4.14. At the same time, I don't think Dean's thinking straight. Sam's motivations in the demon blood arc are incredibly multi-faceted... but hating hunting or their family simply is not part of this situation. This is made most clear to us just a couple episodes before in 4.19 (where Sam tries to push Adam into hunting and praises their father for teaching them to protect themselves—and this certainly didn't go unnoticed by Dean who confronted him about it). The bit about not wanting to hunt hasn't been true in years and won't resurface again for several more. It seems like Dean is just swirling through a lot of unaddressed hurt and misunderstandings from the past as he processes through the last year.

I think Dean saying he is done trying and he has tried and tried and tried and he is not doing it anymore is completely reasonable (he also has no idea yet that Lilith is the last seal), but I think when presented with the harm Bobby knows Sam is doing to his body by proceeding, thinking about "his boys", Bobby sees Sam as being in more imminent danger and wants Dean to reach out one last time to try and get through to him. Dean's rare show of verbal processing sets Bobby on edge and because he's human too, he says some stupid things. And if we're being real, Bobby is like this sometimes. I love Bobby to death, and in a general sense, I think he's very caring and supportive toward the people he loves. But when he himself is scared or angry or otherwise agitated, his patience evaporates and other people's vulnerability makes him upset. "The Curious Case of Dean Winchester" is a more sympathetic example of this. Bobby is angry and raw and deeply depressed, and Dean's well-meaning love and support—no matter how casually offered—is received like poison because it reminds him that he is not okay. The same sort of language about Dean being a pansy and how they're both going to "grow lady parts" shows up from Bobby in this episode.

I go back and forth on what Kripke was thinking when he wrote that dialogue, because the man is absolutely obsessed with the exploration of "toxic masculinity", which I think he's done well at times and extremely poorly at others, and I think Bobby's speech clearly embodies that interest. At the same time, I actually do think that, leading into season 5, there are some aspects to the fallout of Sam and Dean's season 4 conflict that are ultimately just very lazily brushed over and so I do think he bought the shit he had Bobby shoveling to an extent. Setting the content and tone aside, in a vacuum, the idea that Dean has to be the one to reach out—while exhausting—plays into the idea of Dean as the hero character. And when I say this, I don't mean that Sam isn't a hero. Sam is VERY much trying to be the unconventional hero this season. But Dean is often made to embody the concept of the righteous hero as an ideal, and part of being the righteous hero in season 4 means ultimately being... right (in more ways than you even knew) but another part of it is having to be the bigger person. Your wrath has to be tempered by love. We could go further down this rabbithole as far as themes and meta narrative, but none of this, from a human perspective, makes me like this speech any more. It just sucks balls.

[randomsufff]

I’m back Michie girlies and this has been on the dome for a while but I’ve been seeing people mention it and at least one fic has executed this idea (“I once was his tutor” I salute you 🫡) but I need to just present this idea anyways because it has COOKED for a while-

I think it would be absolutely fucking hilarious if Max had started treating Richie the way he did Grace. Like the whole, dumb himbo act where he laughs real hard at non-jokes and tries to rizz Richie up as he’s going to class.

In my head- this is connected to the “Richie tutors Max” universe, so in my mind- Richies been helping him out and he’s been getting to know the guy, Max either: 1) eventually realizes how much of a capital P Prude Grace is OR (the funnier option I think) 2) Grace, in her want to get thoughts of Max Jäegerman out of her head, goes so far in the opposite direction that she somehow accidentally sleeps with a woman and is no longer “forbidden fruit” as Max puts it. (Insert side story of Grace battling internalized homophobia as she developed a friends-with-benefits turned maybe actual relationship with…. idk Deb or Alice or someone.) Cue Max looking at Richie and being like “I can totally seduce this nerd, my skills aren’t lacking just because I couldn’t get Grace.. this is 100% not me subconsciously really liking the dude and wanting to genuinely date him and knowing no other way to outwardly express this”

ANYWAYS- point is I need Max to try to flirt with Richie in that himbo way that he did with Grace-and I need Richie “This projects on thermodynamics… what the fuck are you talking about???” Lipshitz to just be constantly confused on what’s happening to him.

AND THEN when he finally realizes that Max is trying to get with him, I need Mr. Richie “has definitely never been with or slept with anyone and is just as unhinged and horny as Ruth (need I remind you she said Stephanie was the object of both their sexual fantasies)” Lipshitz to look at Max, really debate over it, before going “I may not have standards but I, unfortunately, have morals” and that he couldn’t do anything with Max since he was… well…his and his friends bully for years.

Boom, kick start the redemption arc that starts with Max just wanting to sleep with Richie but shifts to genuinely wanting to date him and trying to open up/clean up his act.

(Also- to add to that ‘“Dirty Girl Soup” Richie version’ concept that I’ve seen somewhere- I think it would be so fucking funny if Max’s equivalent to this, scandalous, forbidden, sexual fantasy was just Richie being the most supportive, understanding and healthiest boyfriend ever. Just accidentally fantasizing them in the most domestic situation ever (you know, because it goes against his Literal Monster persona). Like Richie’s, i don’t fucking know, holding his hand as they get coffee together and is just so understanding and calming when Max attempts to bully this fantasy Richie, and Max-who is just swimming in toxic masculinity (but is super ok in knowing he’s bi. As people say- he’s an actual asshole but he will bully you using your correct pronouns damnit)- is just like “NO, what are these feelings??? Why do I feel like this??? This is so wrong… but why does this feel… actually nice???” Yeah… funny shit)